WINDBELIEVER
By
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
(c) Copyright April 2007, Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Cover art by Jenny Dixon, (c) Copyright April 2007
Smashwords Edition
Published by New Concepts Publishing
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
WindLegends Saga
Glossary
Abbadon: Fortress of Prince Jaleel Jaborn; a dark and forbidding place.
Abdul Hussein: Owner of the Kilnt quarry in the Inner Kingdom
Ageless Ones: Depraved demons who control the wickedness of man
Amber-Lea MacFadden: Red-haired beauty who first catches Conar’s then Brelan’s eye; was lover to both.
Abyss: Hell
Asoteks: Fierce war-like tribe who lived on the land before it became Chrystallus.
Alel: Supreme god of the Seven Kingdoms
Alel’s Force: Men and women who fought against the evil that sprang up after the Burning War. (see James Alel)
Alexi Romanovitch: Foreman of the stone quarry in the Outer Kingdom
Ali-Sajin Balizar, Prince: Emir of Rysalia
Anastasia Steffensberg: Tzarina of the Outer Kingdom
Andre Belvoir, Sir: Master-at-Arms of Norus Keep; sentinel for Queen Medea of Oceania.
Andre Talebov: Outer Kingdom Healer
Antoine du Mer, Duke: Father of Cul du Mer
Anton Steffensberg: Tzar of the Outer Kingdom
Andre Andreanova: Yuri’s brother and a quarry worker in the Outer Kingdom
Angelique Saur: Mother of Brelan, one-time mistress of King Gerren McGregor
Anya Elizabeth Wynth: Daughter of King Shaz and Queen Medea of Oceania; sister of Princes Grice and Chand
Anya Katrine: Clipper ship captained by Serge Nicholayevice Kutuzov of the Outer Kingdom.
Appolyon Kiel: Commandant of the Labyrinth Penal Colony on Tyber’s Isle
Asher Stone: Rachel’s and Sajin’s brother.; Lives at Huhurn Oasis.
Azalon Ben-Hasheed: Asaraban merchant.
Balt: Town west of Boreas
Barracoon: Prison transport ship running to Guilder’s Cay
Baybridge: An asylum for the criminally insane
Baybridge Harbor: Entrance to the capitol of Virago
Belial: Henchman of Jaleel Jaborn; Sentinel to Princess Sybelle
Belios A Tobin: Battle cry which means Prince of the Wind
Bennett Beriault: Another illegitimate son of King Gerren McGregor
Bent Armitage: Giant who was the Chief Executioner of Serenia
Black Ascendency, The: Raven of Immortality; merged with Conar in Chrystallus
Blasdin McGregor: Gerren’s father; husband of Hestia
Boreas: Northern zone of Serenia
Boreas Keep: Fortress of the McGregor clan and capitol of Serenia
Boreal Queen: Cargo ship captained by Holm Van de Lar
Boreas Wind: A clipper ship
Boris Micalovek: One of the Outer Kingdom warriors
Borstal: Prison transport ship running to Guilder’s Cay
Brelan Saur: Illegitimate son of King Gerren McGregor
Brell: Royal family of Chale
Brianna McGregor, Princess: daughter of Conar and Catherine
Briar’s Hold Inn: Owned by Harry and Meggie Ruck; where Conar and Liza first consummated their love
Brotherhood of the Domination: An ultra-secretive society of sorcerers dedicated to ruling mankind through black magic
Brothers of the Wind: Priests who take care of the temples in the Seven Kingdoms
Burning War, The: Last war in which mankind was all but eradicated.
Capstan Mountains: Borders Kensett and Rysalia; highest peak is Mount Ireni
Carbondale Gate: Archway between Virago and Serenia
Catherine Steffenovitch: Daughter of Tzar Anton of Outer Kingdom; wife to Conar and mother of Brianna
Cayne Summerton: Healer at Boreas Keep
Celene McDonough: One of the women at Abbadon
Century: Where the Temple of the Winds is located.
Chale: Small Principality ruled by the Brell family; capitol at Meiraman; keep is called Briarcliff Keep
Chand Wynth, Prince: Youngest son of King Shaz of Oceania
Ching-Ching: Master of the martial arts in Chrystallus
Chaseton Montyne, Prince: Regent of Ionary
Chrystallus: Ruled by the Shimota family; keep is called Binh Tae Palace, capitol at Nyotoka
Ciona: Seaside town that is the home of Brelan Saur
Clere: The lawgiver God of the Seven Kingdoms
Comium: Hemlock
Conar Aleksandro McGregor: Prince Regent of Serenia; son of Gerren and Moira
Codian McGregor, Prince: Son of Glaen and Liza; known as Cody; had a twin brother who died at birth.
Colsaurus: A town in Serenia
Corinth: Town near the Temple of the Winds
Coron McGregor, Prince: Son of King Gerren and third in line to the McGregor throne
Courts of the Seven Kingdoms:
Chrysanthemum -- Chrystallus
Green Isles -- Chale
Hills -- Ionary
Sands -- Diabolusia
Sea -- Oceania
Storms -- Virago
Veldt -- Necroman
Wind -- Serenia
Creel Point: Dunes in Oceania
Cyle Alla Jemann, Princess: Galen McGregor’s first wife who died from a fall from the balcony at Norus Keep
Colsaurus: Town near Norus Keep
Cul du Mer, Duke: Father of Roget and Teal; owner of Downsgate
Daniel: One of Conar’s illegitimate sons
Daniel Pauley: Guard at the Labyrinth loyal to McGregor family
Daughters of the Multitude, The: Secret society of high born ladies dedicated to bringing harmony and peace back to the world
Deathwielder: Sword given to Conar when he was invested with his powers in Chrystallus
Demonicus: An arch-prelate of the Domination
Djebel ed Kjinn: Sybelle’s keep near Helix
D’Lynn du Mer: Illegitimate daughter of Duke Antoine du Mer; grandmother of Gezelle
Diabolusia: Desert country; capitol at Deseo, near Heaj; keep is called Devil’s Nest; ruled by the Sabina family
Dorrie Burkhart: Tavern maid at the Briar’s Hold
Downsgate: Ancestral home of the du Mer family
Drew Llywelyn: Illegitimate son of King Gerren; monk in the WindKeeper Order in Diabolusia
Dulwitch: Capitol of Eurus Zone of Serenia
Duncan Connor: Another illegitimate son of King Gerren; Raja’s sentinel
Dundenon: Military training town near Rommitrich Point
Dunswitch: A town near Norus Keep where Conar and his men were attacked and Rayle was killed
Dyllon McGregor: Son of King Gerren of Serenia and fourth in line to throne; married to Grace Brell, sister of Tyne
Dyriel McGregor Shimota: Sister of King Gerren and wife of Chrustallusian Emperor Tran.
Elite, The: Prince conar’s personal guard
Emmie Lou Tucker: Nanny to Conar’s children; wife of Ronnie
Epstein: Town where Ivor Keep is located
Eurus: Eastern Zone of Serenia; Capitol at Dulwitch is governed by Prince Coron McGregor
Fealst: Orphanage town in Oceania; capitol of Windswept Province
Galen Nicholai McGregor: Son of King Gerren and second in line to the Serenian throne; twin of Conar; regent at Norus
Galbrath Convent: Brutal nunnery run by the Brotherhood of the Domination
Gatherer, The: The Angel of Death
Gerren Yuri McGregor: King of Serenia and father of Conar; had numerous illegitimate offspring
Gezelle Castile: Servant girl at Norus taken in as Liza’s personal maid; half-sister of Roger and Teal du Mer
Ghurn: Penal colony town to west of Serenia
Gilbert Tarnes: First mate of the Boreal Queen
Great Abbey of the Domination: Temple of the Brothers of the Domination; located near Corinthian Pass. This is where the most secretive ceremonies are performed.
Great Lady, The: Leader of the Daughters of the Multitude aka Lady of the Waters; she is the Windmaster’s Mate and Keeper of the gate
Grice Wynth, Prince: son of King Shaz of Oceania
Grotto, the: Underground waterway where Prince Tristan was conceived, where Conar nearly died and Galen was murdered
Guil Ben-Shanar Gehdrin, Prince: Hasdu prince
Guilder’s Cay: Penal colony at Ghurn Colony
Hern Abra, Sir: Master-at-Arms of Boreas Keep and sentinel to Queen Moira
Holm Van de Lar: Captain of the Boreal Queen; husband of Mary and father of Jenny
Hujurn Oasis: Where Balizar Arbra’s camp was in Kensett
Habi Al-Kanoor: Slavekeeper
Haelstrom Point: Capitol of Virago
Haji El-Sabor: Stowaway eunuch
Harim Ahnaham: Assistant to Khan Subet and slave warden in Rysalia
Harry Ruck: Co-owner of the Briar’s Hold along with wife, Meggie
Hasdu: Tribe of desert nomads
Healers: Physicians
Hebra St. Martyne: Chielf Temple guard at Serenia and later Proconsul of Virago
Hesar: Royal family of Virago
Hestia McGregor: Gerren’s mother; wife of Blasdin
Holy Dale: Ancestral home of the Sorn family; near Wixenstead Harbor and not far from the Carbondale Gate.
Hound and Stag Tavern: Where Conar and Liza met
Hull: Town south of Boreas
Illuvia: One of the god Alel’s many wives; goddess of the seas (spelled Alluvia and Aluvia in some other countries)
Inner Kingdom: Country in the Ventura Province; Capitol is at Tasjorn and the royal family is Alla Lajeel.
Iomal: The city of Insults in the Southern Zone of Norus; once owned by Chale but now houses a contingent of the Southern Forces.
Ionary: Small principality ruled by the Montyne family; capitol at Derbenille and the keep there is called Ravenwood
Ipsmal: Town that is Zone capitol of Zephyrus ruled by Prince Dyllon
Ivor Keep: Estate owned by Legion A’Lex and given to him by his father, King Gerren; near Epstein in Boreas Zone; where Conar was conceived
Jabus Andoire: Cardinal of the Domination
Jabal: Inner Kingdom emirate just north of Rysalia. It has two princes, Raman and Nadar who were sent to the Labyrinth.
Jabol: One of the dual capitols of Kensett
Jabyl Jemann: Sheik of the Hasdu tribe; father of Princess Cyle
Jah-Ma-El: Illegitimate son of King Gerren; a priest in the Domination
Jaleel Jaborn: Hasdu Prince from Dahrenia who wished to marry Princess Cyle and took his revenge for her death out on Conar
James Alel: Commander of the North American Force fighting during the Burning War.
James Brigman: A Temple deacon
Janusk: Country in the Inner Kingdom
Jasmine Cay: Where Princess Nadia was born
Jasmine El-Gehdrin: Half-sister of Guil who is a dead ringer for Liza
Jemann Jaleem: Prince, son of Jabyl.
Jenny Van de Lar: Daughter of Holm
J’Nal: Viragonian greeting meaning ‘peace’
Joannie MacCorkingdale: Daughter of Boreas’ cook Sadie
Jobatik: First settler tribe of Chrystallusian lands
John Boggs: Stablemaster at Boreas
Jonas Crews: Illegitimate son of King Gerren
Jost: Town southwest of Breas Keep
Julian Faustine: Illegitimate son of King Gerren and twin of Morgan
Kaileel Tohre: Archbishop of the WindWarrior Society and Cardinal of Ordination for the Brotherhood of the Domination.
Kalli Jaborn, Prince: Jaleel’s brother
Kanan: Cousin of Chaim and servant to Princess Sybelle.
Katrina Balizar, Princess: sister of Rysalia Emir, Ali-Sajin
Kegl: Island off the coast of Virago
Keil Jabyur: High Priest who trained Jah-Ma-El at the Great Abbey of the Domination
Kensett: Country that is the emirate of King Soabe Ben-Alkazar, father of Sajin and Sybelle; dual capitols at Kharis and Jabol in the Capstanian Mountains
Khamsin: The name onar takes in the Inner Kingdom when he leads the Samiel (Wind Force) there.
Khan Subet: Slave trader
Kharis: One of the dual capitols of Kensett
Kharis El-Malich: Sabrina’s sentinel
Kilnt: Quarry where Storm Jale was worker
Kirk Newkern: One of King Gerren’s illegitimate sons and twin of Nathan.
Koussev: Mother language of the Outer Kingdom; high speech of the royalty.
Kym Taborn, Princess: Eldest daughter of Shalu
Lakeland: Town ten miles west of Century; where the Pigeon’s Roost tavern is
Lake Myria: Crescent shaped lake north of Boreas Keep
Legion A’Lex: Eldest of King Gerren’s sons and illegitimate. Commander of the Serenian Military and Vice Commander of the Serenian Forces.
Lucifus River: Border between Serenia and Diabolusia
Lydon Drake: Guard at the Labyrinth
Madalon: Great Circle of the Lost from whence came the sword called Deathwielder
Maelstrom: Mysterious bubbling waters that lead from one point in time to another
Mahmed Allajon: Slavetrader
Maiden’s Briar: Blow fish poison
Marsh Eden: One of Conar’s Elite and third in command behind Thom and Storm
Maxine Saur: Brelan’s mother
Medea Wynth: Wife of Shag and Queen of Oceania; mother of Grice, Helen Louise, Francis Jean, Martha Ann, Chand and Laura-Alana; surrogate mother of Anya Elizabeth
Meggie Ruck: Co-owner of the Briar’s Hold with husband Harry
Midworld: Where Inner and Outer Kingdoms are located
Miquel Espanoza: Diabolusian warrior who is an ally of Sybelle’s.
Moira Nadia Hesar McGregor: daughter of Syn-Jorn Hesar; wife of first Xander Hesar then Gerren McGregor; mother of Conar
Montyne: Royal family of Ionary
Morgan Faustine: Illegitimate son of King Gerren and twin of Julian
Myra Luz: Wife of Elite Morgan Luz; mother of Conar’s son, Wyn
Nadia Steffensberg: Daughter of the Outer Kingdom Tzar; sister of Catherine
Nathan Newkern: Illegitimate son of King Gerren and twin of Kirk
Necroman: Jungle country whose capitol is at Jhakar; keep is called Lionheart and it is ruled by the Taborn family.
Nicholas Beriault: Illegitimate son of King Gerren; was raped by Kaileel Tohre
Nikabuto, Master: World’s greatest Healer; lives in Chrystallus
North Boreal Sea: Northern waters above Serenia
Northwind: A clipper ship
Norus Keep: Regent home of Prince Galen and capitol of the Southern Zone; is one of the Pathways to the Maelstrom
Nyles Ben-Jani: Hasdu commander of archers sent to siege at Norus
Obelisk, The: The three-sided temple within the Shadowlands where the Daughters of the Multitude go to consult with the Great Lady and the Oracle.
Occultus Noire: High Priest of the Brotherhood of the Domination; was in line to be Arch-Prelate
Oceania: Island country ruled by the Wynth royal family; capitol at Seadrift.
Outer Kingdom: Land ruled by the Steffensberg royal family.
Palace of the Tzars: Steffensberg family home
Palace of the Winds: McGregor family home at Boreas Keep
Paegan Hesar: Youngest prince of Virago
Pearl Allegra: Champion wrestler living in Chrystallus
Peter Steffensberg: Son of Tzar Anton of Outer Kingdom
Rachel Stone: Sister of Asher; she is Liza’s double; was mistress of Jaleel Jaborn; mother of Daniel with Conar;
Raine Chastayne: Bastard son of Raphaella and Conar
Raine Jael: A Hasdu from Ventura
Raja DeLyle: The woman who first seduced Conar; mother of his illegitimate son, Regan
Raphaella Chastayne: The Windweaver, Keeper of the Loom; sister of Shaz Wynth and mother of Liza and Raine. She is the guardian of World’s End.
Raphian: The Supreme Evil Entity of the Domination; Bringer of Storms; Destroyer of Men’s Souls
Rasheed Falker: Prince Guil’s henchman
Ravenwind: Black flag ship of the Raven’s Wind Force; was once the Vortex prison transport
Rayle Loure: Was captain of Cona’rs elite; twin of Thompson (Thom); killed by Hasdu near Dunswitch
Regan DeLyle: Illegitimate son of Conar and Raja
Rhinea: Town s, sw of Boreas Keep
Robbie MacCorkingdale: grandson of Boreas cook Sadie; priest of the Brotherhood of the Domination; Kaileel Tohre’s right hand man.
Roget Du Mer: Son of Duke Cul and brother to Teal and Gezelle
Rommitrich Point: Old stone abbey near the city of Dunswitch in Eurus zone.
Ronnie Tucker: Keeper of the Kennels at Boreas; husband of Emmie Lou
Rupert Von Schlesendorg: Suitor for the hand of Catherine Steffernsberg
Rupine: A Hasdu Healer
Rylan Hesar: Crown prince of Virago; brother of Paegan
Rysalia (Middle Sector): Capitol of this country is at Dahrenia and is ruled by Shiek Jabyl Jemann; Abbadon fortress in near there.
Rysalia (Northern Sector): Nomad Emirate ruled by Jaleem family, capitol at Asaraba
Rysalia (Southern Sector): Capitol at Basaraba is ruled by Gehdrin family, Sheik Sadaam Gehdrin.
Sabrina, Lady: Owner of a breeding farm in the Inner Kingdom
Sadie MacCorkingdale: Cook at Boreas; mother of Joannie and grandmother of Robbie
Sajin Ben-Alkazar, Prince: Son of King Syam; brother of Sybelle, Jahi, Hashir, Mahmed, Nadir, Zadir, Kahlel, Balkar, Sagar, Nadar, Khan and Rasheed. He is known as The Hawk.
Samiel: Inner Kingdom Wind Force led by Khamsin (Conar McGregor)
Scrubroot: An astringent
Seachance: Oceanian clipper ship
Seachange: Conar’s second black stallion
Seaflower: Wynth family summer retreat
Seayearner: Conar’s black stallion
Sager El-Balidar: Arch-Prelate with Conar was a boy; grandfather of Guil Gehdrin
Sasheon Ben-Alkazar: Son of Sybelle and Conar
Se Huan: Young woman who cares for Conar in Chrystallus
Sentian Heil: Farmer turned Elite; sentinel to Liza
Serenian Star: Carries prisoners to Haelstrom Point
Serge Nicholayevich Kutuzov: Captain of the Anya Katrina
Seven Kingdoms, The:
Chale
Chrystallus
Ionary
Necroman
Oceania
Serenia
Virago
Sentinels: Warriors trained by the Daughters of the Multitude as guardians and messengers for a Daughter
Serenia: Capitol at Boreas and home of the McGregor clan.
Shadowlands: The mystical land where the Obelisk of the Daughters of the Multitude can be found.
Shalu Taborn: King of Necroman and father of Kym
Shaz Wynth: King of Oceania; husband of Medea; father of Grice, Helen Louise, Anya Elizabeth, Francis Jean, Martha Ann, Chand, and Laura-Alana
Shanyon David Phelps: ex-Elite who killed a Boreas temple guard.
Shasamie: Nomad wench who was one of Sorn Jamar’s prostitutes
Sirenes: The protector goddesses of the Multitude
Sorn Jamar: Nomad chemist who gets Conar addicted
South Boreal Sea: Southern waters below Serenia
Spittin’ Cat Tavern: Worse tavern in Boreas
Storm Jale: Elite guard and secondi n command of Elite forces behind Thom
St. Steffensberg: Capitol of the Outer Kingdom
Suzerains: Hasdu kidnappers
Svetlana Steffensbert: Daughter of Tzar and sister of Catherine of Outer Kingdom
Sybelle Beth-Alkazar: Sister of Sajin; keep at Djebel ed Kjinn near Helix in Deimann province; is an Amazeen and will bear Conar a son she names Sasheon
Takahemmanon Khyrtuslish: One of the archers at the siege of Norus; called Taka by his friends; is a Hasdu guide
Tamara: Conar’s Eldest illegitimate daughter
Tataina Steffensberg: Daughter of the Tzar and sister of Catherine
Teal du Mer: Half-brother of Roget and Gezelle; a gypsy
Temple of Chrystaus: Where Conar was given his powers during a ceremony in Chrystallus
Temple of the Winds: A university for the advanced training of WindWarriors, at Century near Corinth
Tenerse: A very powerful drug that is highly addictive. When mixed with various other liquids can achieve diverse results…
(1. Milk: strong sexual arousal; aphrodisiac
(2. Ale: severe, irrational anger
(3. Water: potent sedative; hangover cure
(4. Wine: stupor, hallucinations, ear ringing
(5. Brandy: Uncontrollable anger
(6. Taro root: severe heightening of pain
(7. Vinegar: severe lessening of pain
(8. Fruit juice: poison
(9. Mead: madness, irrational behavior (depending on amount)
(10. Distilled Water: what Reapers take to control Transitions
Tia: One of Conar’s illegitimate daughters
Tjorn Faulker: Rasheed’s father
Tolkan Coure: Arch-Prelate of the Brotherhood of the Domination
Traer Saur: Brelan’s grandfather
Tran Shumota: Emperor of Chrystallus and husband of Dyreil McGregor
Treacle: A healing potion
Tristan McGregor: Son of Conar and Liza; adopted by Galen as his own
Tribunal: Governing body of the Seven Kingdoms
Tymothy Kullen: Guard at the Labyrinth; raped Holm Van de Lar’s daughter, Jenny
Tyne Brell, Prince: Regent of Chale; excellent swordsman; sister Grace is married to Dyllon McGregor
Vanion: Liza’s familiar
Vasdane: Male and female familiar of Conar’s
Veldon: A quarry in the Outer Kingdom
Ventura: Homeland of Princess Cyle Jameem
Virago: Capitol at Haelstrom Point; governed by the Hesar Family; keep is called Tempest Keep
Vortex: Carries prisoners to Tyber’s Isle
Windflower: Flagship of King GerrenMcGregor
Windkeeper: Liza’s gray mare
Windswept: Ship Holm Van de Lar used to take the royal sons on when there were small
WindWarrior Society: A mystical sect of men dedicated to the preservation and protection of their individual homelands.
Wixenstead: The outlaw Syn-Jern Sorn’s hideout
Wynland: Conar’s eldest illegitimate son by a woman named Myra whom he later marries to one of his Elite, Morgan Luz
Chapter One
The sea rolled like the gentle slopes of his homeland’s foothills. Its gray-green color was murky with the lowering sky that was bringing rain from the west. An occasional flash of lightning in the distance signaled a squall line off the coast of Serenia, moving inland at a slow and unhurried pace. The wind was freshening, the tang of salt and sea life bringing him fond memories of other sailing trips on the vast expanse of the South Boreal Sea. Crashing bravely through the whitecaps, her bow rising and falling with the sea passage, the Outer Kingdom ship sent salt spume spraying in its wake.
She was hugging the coastline as closely as the reefs and shoals would allow. At times the valiant ship was within shouting distance of the tall white cliffs that marked the passageway between Serenia and Oceania, and he would throw a hand up in greeting to the men who had stopped along the rugged cliff tops to admire the ship’s passing. His lips would twitch with what passed as amusement for him when the men would point, recognizing him, stunned to see him on board that strange-looking ship.
Named the Anya Katrine, the Outer Kingdom clipper was something to behold skimming along the cresting waves. Her teakwood decks gleamed, her polished brass glowed. The figurehead at her bow was an intricately-carved mermaid, which had been freshly painted in tones of green and red and was dusted with gilt. Her running lights, lit because of the darkening of the sky and the probability of inclement weather, twinkled on the water and cast a myriad of reflections across the high sheen of the teak. Overhead her sheeting strained with the brisk sea breeze sliding the clipper over the sea with little effort. Her standard snapped sharply in the wind, the coat of arms of the royal family of the Outer Kingdom announcing both ownership and destination of the stately vessel.
Her sailors wore clean and pressed uniforms of sold white tunic and breeches. Her officers were dressed in sharply creased navy serge coat and trousers with an inch wide stripe of fancy gold braid running down the side seams and around the cuffs of their coats. The Captain wore his medals upon his broad chest, as did his First and Second Mates, and the cocked hat which covered their thick manes of curly brown hair, sported white ostrich plumes held in place by the insignia of the Royal Navy of the Outer Kingdom. All in all, the ship and her crew presented a very impressive picture as she made her way steadily south.
“Once we gain the Sinisters, we’ll tack east,” the Captain informed his passenger in perfect, precise Chalean. “Three days on that course with find us near the Isle of Winds.” He grinned. “That’s half-way home.”
His passenger’s brows shot upward. “I thought that sea lane was un-navigable.”
The Captain smiled, showing perfectly straight and stark white teeth. He shook his head. “A myth our people started to keep away unwanted Outlanders and trespassers. I can assure you, there are no sea monsters lurking beyond the Sinisters, Your Grace.”
Conar Aleksandro McGregor frowned. He could picture the fog-hidden stretch of water off the southernmost tip of Oceania. “From what I could tell when I was there, there are some pretty dangerous coral reefs out there.” He turned his gaze to the sea. “Along with that hellish fog, how can you navigate?”
“I have sailed these waters many times, Prince Conar. There is no need to concern yourself.”
There hadn’t seemed to be any way he could explain to this tall, suntanned and elegant seaman that he was no longer a Prince, that his birthright had been denied him by his own father, his heritage discarded. From the moment he had set foot on the Anya Katrine, he had been treated like the royalty he had once been. He had tried to correct the Captain, whose name he found out was Serge Nikolayevich Kutusov, but the man had politely ignored him.
“You were born royalty, Your Grace. Your mother and father were King and Queen. Consequently, royalty you still are in the eyes of my people.”
Once more Conar had protested, telling the man how much he had always hated being called by his appropriate title even when he had deserved it and it was still his, but the man had smiled and shaken his head.
“To us, Your Grace, you are what you have always been. We would not dishonor you by calling you anything else but that which you are.”
“Even if I don’t like it?” Conar had inquired, one tawny brow lifted in challenge.
The Captain had grinned. “Even if you don’t like it, Your Grace.”
Now, leaning against the teak railing as the clipper sped ever faster toward the Sinisters, Conar looked out over the side of the ship and stared down into the rushing waters below.
For over an hour the ship had been doggedly pursued by a school of porpoises and he was watching them frolicking in the waves, arcing their silver-green bodies high. Now and again, their squeaky voices called out to him and he smiled.
“You like sea?”
Conar turned his head to look at Yuri. The Outer Kingdom warrior who had labeled himself Conar’s personal bodyguard, was slightly less green around the gills than he had been the day before, but his face was still strained, his lips pursed against the tug of nausea. Obviously the man didn’t like the sea as much as his four companions did for those men were forever climbing the rigging to relieve their boredom. For the most part, Yuri had kept to his cabin, a basin close at hand.
“But you don’t, my friend,” Conar answered. He reached out a hand to gently touch the warrior’s cheek. “Why don’t you stay below, Yuri. You don’t need to keep me company. I’m use to keeping my own self occupied.” He removed his hand.
The gentle, friendly touch had made Yuri’s heart ache and he had to jerk his head away before this man saw just how much it had affected him. “I hate sea,” he grumbled. “I, soldier.” His frown deepened. “Not squid!”
A soft, sad chuckle escaped Conar’s tightly pressed together lips and he turned his head away from Yuri’s scowling profile. “I feel as though the sea has always been a part of me,” he tried to explain. “And me, a part of it.”
Yuri swallowed, trying to calm his seasickness. “There is old saying in my country, ‘The man who love sea, is loved by sea, and she always protect him’. Sea love you.”
There was a slight dimming in Conar’s eyes, but he blinked, shoving it away. “I feel at peace out here.”
“I feel ....” Yuri searched for the correct Serenian word. He swallowed hard with strained effort and then turned a sickly green color. “Sick!!” he gasped, slamming his hand over his mouth. He turned abruptly and ran away, his retching sounds concealed behind the constriction of his fingers.
“Stay in your cabin!” Conar yelled after him. “I’ll send the healer!”
“Won’t do good,” one of Yuri’s fellow warriors remarked from his place in the rigging.
Conar glanced up. “Why not, Petr?”
The man shrugged. “He no good at sea. Sea make him this way, every time. Potion no good for him. Make him sicker.”
“Like Teal,” Conar mumbled, nodding. What he wouldn’t give for some of Liza’s lavender brew for Yuri, he thought. He knew that would have lessened the symptoms if not eradicated them.
“Your Grace?”
Gritting his teeth at the title, Conar turned, saw the Captain advancing on him with a cheerful smile. He tried to answer the greeting, but his jaw was still clenched.
Serge Nickolayevich Kutusov rolled easily with the pitch of the deck. His straight-backed, shoulders-squared walk was very imposing as he came to stand beside Conar. His smile was filled with adventure.
“It just came to me how you might pass this journey and not become bored,” he said, rubbing his hands together, his Chalean almost perfect. “How would you like to learn Koussev?”
Conar’s brows drew together. “Kou ....?”
“Koussev!” Serge exclaimed. “It is our mother language.” He waved his hand from side to side, fanning the air. “There are many dialects, but only one root. Koussev is the High Speech used by the royal house.” He puffed out his wide chest, straining the fabric of his uniform coat. “I, myself, speak twelve languages.” His face sagged just a bit. “As of yet, I have not mastered Serenian enough to feel competent to converse with you in your own tongue, but since you are fluent in Chalean, yourself, I can teach you enough of our mother tongue for you to be able to converse quiet properly with our Tzar and Tzarina.”
The idea intrigued Conar and he nodded. It was always best to be able to speak with a stranger in his own language rather than stumble through half-phrases and incorrect words that might prove embarrassing.
“If you’re willing to teach me, I’m willing to learn,” he answered. “I speak eight languages, myself.”
“Excellent!” Serge proclaimed. “Then you should have no problem assimilating Koussev. It is not a difficult language, at all.”
“When would you like to start?”
“Now?” Serge asked, eager to relieve his own boredom.
Conar swept his hand out. “Lead the way.”
Chapter Two
Passing the Sinisters in the daylight hours was one thing.
Passing the rock-strewn waters under the skipping ride of a pale crescent moon was another.
The fog was thicker than Conar had remembered from his year on the island where his daughter Nadia had been conceived and born. He had glanced at the black hump of the island as they sailed past, but he refused to name it or give it thought, for the painful jog of his memories had filled him with a despair so great he thought he would drown in it. Jasmine Cay had been the beginning of his worst nightmare.
“We call this place Cay Mist,” Serge had told him. “What do your people call it?”
“I don’t remember,” Conar had mumbled. He kept his attention on the banks of phosphorescence as the milky vapor loomed at them from out of the dark. The memories hurt.
Serge had sensed the reticence in his passenger and had ended the conversation, moving slightly away from the man whose jaw was clenched and whose hands were tight on the railing as he refused to look toward the distant island.
There was stillness to the air, a preternatural quiet that set Conar’s teeth on edge and made the hair along his neck and arms tingle. There was also a smell, one he could not quite identify, that wafted to him on the damp breeze that ruffled his thick mane of golden hair. When the clipper entered the first wisps of the ghostly fog, he tensed, his dark sapphire eyes narrowing with dread, his body going rigid as though it expected to be hit by some unseen hand coming at him from the depths of the vapor.
As the fog closed around the ship, sealing them inside its phantom arms, he found his heart thudding in his chest and sweat breaking out on his brow. There was a slight tremor in his fingers as he reached up to plow them through his damp, shoulder-length hair. The chill of the night and the mist of the salt water had turned the silken mane to a sticky mass. He grimaced, running his hands down his cold breeches leg to rid his fingers of the feel.
“This mess is as thick as pea soup,” he commented.
“On the average, it will take us two hours to cut through the fog,” Serge said quietly. “It’s slow going, but these waters are treacherous at best.”
Beneath the copper hull of the clipper, Conar could hear the faint scrape of something as the ship slipped through the night. He prayed with all his heart there were no reefs to gouge a hole in the hull for to be stranded in this murky, iridescent mist would have been a hell unto itself. His nerves were already tense enough as it was without thinking of the sea creatures, both real and imagined, which lurked beneath the smoky surface of the black waters. To have heard the shattering wrench of tearing wood and plating would have sent him into a screaming fit.
“There is nothing to worry about, Your Grace,” Sergei said. “I have navigated these waters many, many times without mishap.”
“It only takes one accident to sink a ship,” Conar grumbled.
Without warning, something loomed at him from out of the fog and he gasped, pulling back from the railing as a black mass of shimmering rock passed close enough to the leeward rail for him to have reached out and touched it. He jerked, looking fearfully to Serge, and saw a fleeting smile of reassurance on the craggy, handsome features.
“Sometimes the passageway gets a bit cramped,” Serge explained, “but we are in no danger of scraping those cliffs, Your Grace. Relax! Enjoy the quiet.”
“Relax?” Conar groused under his breath. “How the hell can I relax when we’re that close to the damned rocks?”
“Try,” Serge told him.
He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms and cautiously turned back to the rail. More jagged, deadly-looking rocks, cliffs as Serge had called them, jutted up from the water and glistened in the shimmer of ghostly fog. They looked as sinister as their name.
“Sweet, Merciful Alel,” Conar breathed. There was less than an inch at times between the rock and the side of the ship.
“Have no worry, Your Grace,” Serge said in a quiet, reassuring voice. “Our pilot is a skilled navigator. He has made journeys through tighter places than this.”
Conar thought, at best, that was a damned exaggeration and at worse, a boldfaced lie, but he didn’t say so. At that moment, he didn’t think he could have said much of anything intelligible.
For what seemed to him to be an eternity, the ship glided slowly and cautiously through the fog-shrouded waters. The stillness, not a sailor speaking, not even a single clank of metal or wood as the men moved about to do their assigned tasks. The ship creaked, of course, as all ships creak, and the water rushed gently and quietly beneath the keel, split apart in a quiet hiss as the bow slipped through it, but other than those natural nautical sounds, there was utter silence on board the Anya Katrine.
“Not much longer,” the captain said quietly, but even as quiet as it had been, Conar jumped, his body quivering as a tingle of surprise flowed down it. He didn’t look at Serge, his attention was glued to the lethal rocks slowly slipping past him, now further away, thank the gods, from the ship.
He began to relax.
And that had been a mistake.
From out of the fog came a sound that made the breath stop in Conar’s throat and his hair stand on end. It was a bellow of sorts--hissing in, rushing out, washing over him with a terror that set him to trembling violently.
He was a brave man, braver than most, but his nerves were already stretched thin and this shriek in the fog-laden waters, this unknown growl of whatever creature had issued it, brought Conar McGregor’s eyes wide in his pale face. He had to bite his lower lip to keep from crying out in alarm as the bellow came again--sharp hiss, rush of bellowing, prolonged and nerve-shattering echo.
And then came the deep clang of some unseen bell far off to the starboard--once, twice, three times. It stretched Conar’s bravery as fine as a gossamer thread. He could feel his knees clicking together through the fabric of his cords and when the bellow sounded again, closer still, he jerked his head toward Serge.
“What the hell is it?” he shouted, feeling himself ready to be pitched headlong into madness by the sound.
Serge’s face creased with surprise. “A fog horn, Your Grace.”
Even though he felt as though he were being chastised, the other sailors looking at him with both mild reproach and curiosity, he couldn’t stop the stutter of fear that made him ask just what the hell was a foghorn. If the sea creature wasn’t dangerous, he wanted to know.
“Will it attack the ship?”
Understanding lit Serge’s face and he looked about him, said something to his men in his native tongue. There were smiles, shakes of the head, and a few chuckles as the men realized Conar had no idea what it was he was hearing.
“I forget sometimes that you Outlanders are not as advanced as we are,” Serge said in a tone too close to condescension to be dismissed. “It is simply a warning device, Your Grace. A horn which blows to warn us to be on the watch. The lighthouse at the Isle of Winds is close by. You should be able to see the light in just a moment or two.”
Feeling like a fool, and not liking the feeling one bit, Conar looked back into the darkness. He strained his vision to be able to pick out the lighthouse glow, but he could see nothing through the fog. There were lighthouses all along the Serenian coast. He was accustomed to seeing those tall, cylindrical towers jutting from craggy spars of land at the water’s edge, but the fog horn was an entirely different matter. Perhaps if he could see the thing, he wouldn’t be as concerned about it as he was. But when the hiss and bellow and echo of the thing called the fog horn came once more, it didn’t unnerve him quite as much as before. However, the deep clang of the distant bell made him grind his teeth.
“I don’t like that sound,” he mumbled to no one in particular.
“It won’t be long now before we are in Outer Kingdom waters, Your Grace,” Serge called. “You’ll be able to see the coastline of our homeland when the fog begins to lift.”
Conar nodded, still miffed. He scanned the fog, still couldn’t catch sight of the elusive fog light sweeping across the waters toward them. Somehow that made his anxiety even more pronounced.
“Our people are eagerly awaiting you, Your Grace,” Serge told him, trying to take his passenger’s mind from the clang of the bell off to their left. He came to stand beside Conar at the railing, leaning his arms on the polished teak. “You’ll be able to meet our people, see our beautiful lands. We have as much diversity in our geography as does Serenia. There are tall, snow-capped mountains, deserts, ocean-side villages, farm lands. The royal family will wish to show you the historical ruins of our country, have you sit with them at court.”
Conar moaned beneath his breath. Those were the last things he wanted to do. He moaned again, just contemplating what was being planned for him.
Serge didn’t hear. “The Tzarevitch, the royal Prince Mikel, will want you to accompany him to the musicales, the ballets. He loves to dance, does our Prince.”
Another moan was stifled. A sour bile rose up in the young Serenian’s throat.
“Of course, he will have to share your company with Tzarevitch Peter, the eldest son of our Tzar. His Highness will wish to take you to the museums in Musco.”
Conar bit his lip, striving not to show his disappointment.
“You will love our land, Your Grace,” Serge sighed. “Just as you will love the Tzarevna.”
Conar looked around. He had become accustomed to the Koussev language, even though he had learned only a smattering of the guttural dialect. He found he rather liked the harsh, slurred words that made up the High Speech of the Outer Kingdom, but it was proving to be more difficult than Serge had predicted.
“The Tzarevna?” he inquired.
Serge smiled. “Ah, yes. Our Tzarevna! She is the daughter of our Tzar. The lady we are taking you to wed.”
Chapter Three
“Turn the ship around!” Conar shouted, drawing the attention of every man on board the ship. His voice was a solid block of ice, his face livid with sudden fury.
“Did you hear me, Serge? Turn the damned ship around. Now!”
Serge looked at his passenger with a calm, innocent gaze. “Have I said something wrong?”
Conar’s eyes narrowed into thin, dangerous slits. He clenched his jaw and spat out his command in perfect Koussev. “Turn .... the .... damned .... ship ... around.”
“Stop teasing, Serge Nickolayevich,” Yuri snarled as he weaved his way toward the two men standing beside the rail. “He not used to such foolishness.”
Conar looked around at the Outer Kingdom warrior, almost smiled at the pea-green condition of the fellow’s complexion and the way he was pursing his thick lips to keep from vomiting, but the situation was too upsetting to be joking about it. He glared at the newcomer with a snarl on his handsome face.
“You’d better hope this son-of-a-bitch was joking!” Conar growled.
Yuri eyed Serge with a disdainful promise of future retaliation. “He was, Highness. Serge Nickolayevich think silliness entertaining.”
Serge’s face turned chalk-white. “Yes,” he muttered, then reached out to put a pleading hand on Conar’s forearm. “Yes! Indeed! I was teasing, Your Grace! Only teasing!” He swallowed and then a nervous, twitching smile pulled the Outer Kingdom sea captain’s lips into a sick facsimile of an ingratiating grin. “Just one of my silly little pranks.”
Conar looked from one man to another, searching faces that were nervous, just a little bit afraid, and that were carefully, too carefully, blank and accommodating.
“Let me put it in a way the two of you can understand. If it is your Tzar’s intention that I be forced to wed one of his old-maid daughters ....”
Yuri’s mouth opened wide, astonishment on his wide face. “Her Highness consider be loveliest woman this side of Uralap Mountains! She have many suitors for her hand, Highness!” He drew his shoulders back and for just an instant, all seasickness was wiped from his face as pride, and what could only have been deep love and admiration, filled his face. “Men fight duel of honor over privilege of sitting with her at supper.”
The nervous tick that was beginning to develop in Conar’s left cheek not only annoyed him, he hoped it gave ample warning to the two men watching him that he was on the verge of lashing out with the doubled fists pressed tightly against his thighs. His face had turned hard, unreadable, but his eyes were two gleaming embers from the deepest pit of hell.
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if she’s the most desirable woman in the universe!” he spat, each word falling into the silence like hot lava rock. “If your master thinks to put me in a position in which I ....”
Yuri held up his hand. “Highness, please! That not Tzar Thomas’ intent, at all! You go to our homeland as honored guest. We would not dare insult you by put stipulations on your visit. This cow ...,” he reached out and viciously shoved the Captain, “make stupid mistake. He apologize to you.”
“I don’t want a damned apology!” Conar hissed. He took a step closer to Yuri, staring up at the man with a fierce squint. “I’m not a stupid man, Yuri.”
“No! Of course not, Sire!” Yuri hastened to agree.
“Do you think I can’t read between the lines here?” He jerked his head toward Serge. “If that man was joking, he wasn’t aware that he was.”
Yuri sighed, a long, drawn-out blister of a sigh. “Yes, Highness. You right.”
Conar’s jaw hardened. “And that was your master’s intent, to have me shackled to his daughter?”
Yuri flinched. He slowly shook his head side to side. “Not intent, Highness, but hope.” His face turned soft. “It ALL our hope, Prince Conar, to see you and sweet Tzarevna united.”
Serge eagerly nodded. “That’s true, Your Grace! Yuri speaks to you truthfully! To unite the two households has been something our Tzar has long since wanted. It would be a great thing.”
A militant, stubborn look set on Conar’s face. “I won’t do it!” he growled.
Yuri’s broad shoulders slumped. “It your decision, Highness.”
“Damned right, it is!” Conar spat at him. “I won’t ever marry again!”
“We didn’t mean right away!” Serge said and then yelped as Yuri very effectively kicked him in the shin. “Ow, Yuri! That hurt!”
“You haven’t seen hurt until you’ve tried to make me do something I don’t want to do!” Conar warned. His soul was blazing beneath the lowered gold of his thick brows.
Yuri shrugged. “It only suggestion, Highness. Nothing more.” He looked down into the Prince’s angry face. “Forgive. We mean no harm.”
“Whether you meant it or not, it was done,” Conar replied ungraciously. He turned his face away from the two men. “Leave me.”
“Highness ...,” Yuri began, but those hot eyes jerked back to him and impaled him with utter contempt.
“Don’t make me give an order twice,” Conar barked.
There was something very dangerous about the way those words were spoken. And something lethal in the set of Conar McGregor’s face as he spoke them. Both men recognized it for what it was--the imperial command of a man not given to being denied. To ignore such an explicit warning would have been folly of the highest order.
“As you wish, Sire,” Serge mumbled, bowing. He backed away, still bowing, then curtly turned on his heel and strode briskly away, his shoulders hunched down into his uniform coat.
Yuri stood where he was for a fraction of a second, longer than he knew he should have. He opened his mouth to say something more, but Conar’s growl made him spin around and stumble his way back to the hatchway. He didn’t even look around as he left. He was afraid of what he would see on the young man’s face.
Turning back to the rail, gripping the wide teak with hands that itched to pummel someone, anyone, Conar stared out into the sea, scanning the wide waters from horizon to horizon. His fists pulsed with impotent fury, his face a livid shade of furious color, his blood rushing in his temples with enough force to blow the lid off a sealed jar.
“Just wait,” he whispered to the rolling waves in a tone anyone who knew him would not have recognized. “You just wait, you tzar-of-a-bitch! I’ll make you wish you’d never thought of me as a bedmate for your unmarriageable brat!”
In his anger, Conar had completely forgotten about his brooding. His self-pity had vanished. His melancholy, a part of him for so long now, had simply ceased to be. And his grief had been pushed aside for a more important emotion--revenge.
“Wait ‘til you get to know the real Conar McGregor,” he snarled, a grin of pure vengeance on his sulking lips. “Let’s see how you’d like him for a son-in-law!”
Chapter Four
St. Steffensburg, the capitol of the Outer Kingdom, was a rather gloomy seaside town nestled along the outer rim of the crescent-shaped harbor of the Bulgas River, that muddy estuary which wandered haphazardly from the Northern Sea inland to Lake Marie Theresa. Tall spires, bulbous-shaped domes, forbidding gray stone blocks of buildings, squat and ugly, huddled so closely together, there was precious little room for an enterprising Outer Kingdom entrepreneur to build his own emporium. The cobblestone streets, although pristine clean and well-maintained, were narrow and dark, somehow forbidding, and as uneven and steeply graded as any wilderness mountain foothill. Obviously poorly engineered, the streets meandered hither and yon, sometimes without seeming purpose or destination, dead ended without warning, and were very tiresome on feet and hoof. There was nothing within the limits of the city that was pretty or worth standing long to look upon. The shops were functional, their plain and nondescript fronts showing only a sign of what the wares sold in that particular shop might be. The abodes, inns and the like, which were scattered at random along the main thoroughfare, if it could possibly be called that, were likewise as lackluster and unwelcome.
“Don’t you have any other color paint but gray? It’s depressing as hell,” Conar grumbled as he twisted his head to look about him at the buildings they were passing. “My god but that’s an ugly place!”
He had mastered the Koussev language, finally, and he had memorized all the words which conveyed insult in the High Speech.
Yuri, highly offended at his companion’s waspish tone, spoke his words around a jaw that was rigid and beginning to ache.
“The buildings are made from stone which is taken from the quarry at Vealton. Our country experiences numerous earthquakes every year, Highness, and stone is far sturdier and safer than the wood of which many of Serenia’s buildings are constructed,” he explained in his native tongue. He glanced at his traveling companion and scowled, for Prince Conar’s nose was definitely lifted in disdain at what he was seeing and Yuri’s own rather broad proboscis was decidedly out of joint. “It would be rather stupid to paint stone, don’t you think?” Yuri added with a hint of pique.
Conar shrugged. “Such ugliness needs something to make it easier on the eye.”
A snarl lurked behind Yuri’s tightly compressed lips, almost escaped, but the warrior swallowed it, and his growing aggravation with the man riding beside him, and turned a carefully blank face to Conar.
“We like it the way it is,” Yuri ground out.
“You would,” Conar snorted.
For over an hour the party of twelve men, Yuri and Conar at the head of the staggered column, clip-clopped through the winding streets of St. Steffensburg, and then took the wide, dusty road north which led to the Palace of the Tzars.
Not once in that entire hour did they pass a single citizen standing outside his or her shop. There were no curious bystanders, shoppers out and about, children playing along the way. Not even a stray dog or cat. The shops appeared closed and shuttered, the town itself bare of habitation.
“Where the hell is everybody?” Conar had inquired.
“At the Palace, no doubt,” Yuri had answered. He had risked a sidelong glance at his companion. “Awaiting your arrival.”
“Why?” Conar’s tone was clipped and suspicious.
It was not in the Outer Kingdom warrior’s nature to be haughty or rude. Despite his massive build and lowering brow, Yuri was a man of calm disposition, great intelligence, and who possessed a vast amount of compassion and patience. But over the past two weeks, he had lost a great deal of that patience, had forced that compassion into remission and had developed a bubbling temper that was about to boil over. His hands on the reins of his palfrey were beginning to cramp with the tight grip he was using to keep his fingers from Conar McGregor’s throat.
“Because,” came the reply, a reply much like one used when speaking to a slow-minded child, “they wish to honor you.”
“Why?” The suspicious question sounded deadly.
A twitch snagged the left side of Yuri’s cheek. “Because of who you are.”
“That being?”
Yuri’s head snapped to one side and his temper finally shot over the pot. “If you don’t know who you are, I sure as hell can’t help you!”
Conar’s left brow rose slowly, contemptuously, and his lips pursed. His wickedly dark eyes traveled slowly down Yuri and back again. “But you KNOW to whom you have just spoken?” The brow jerked and then lowered. “And in what tone you dared to use?”
“I’ve done it now,” Yuri’s inner voice hissed at him. He looked at Conar McGregor’s rigid features and saw retaliation. The Outer Kingdom warrior swallowed, his agile mind searching for something to say.
“Well?” The question was lethal in its pitch.
A deep breath, drawn in through distended nostrils, calmed Yuri to the point where he could slip a false smile of ingratiating meekness to his taut lips despite wanting to tear Conar McGregor’s head off. He lowered his voice, forced into it a mildness he certainly didn’t feel.
“My apologies, Highness,” he replied, putting more emphasis on the last word than he thought prudent or wise, but unable to keep himself from doing so. He cocked his head to one side in mock subservience. “I did, indeed, forget to whom I was speaking.”
Conar’s lip curled into a sneering grin. “Well, don’t forget again.”
Yuri had to bite his tongue to keep from shouting. If he had been just a tad calmer, a little less impatient, he would have seen the flash of hilarity in his companion’s eyes before the dark orbs shifted back to the roadway. And he would have heard the snicker of amusement that was hastily concealed behind a ragged cough.
The road began to narrow as it wound upward toward the Uralap Mountains. Ragged cliffs of dark rust shale jutted outward toward the roadway, closing in on the road. Sparse growth, mostly hardy evergreens and a stray seedling of some broadleaf tree, grew in the ridges of stone. The farther up the men road, the taller the cliffs became until nothing could be seen but dusty road and rugged umber cliff.
“The Palace of the Tzars sits in the Valley of the Saints,” Yuri remarked as he sensed his companion’s boredom. “It was built by our first Tzar, Alexandre.”
Despite his intention to be disagreeable, Conar was intrigued by the twisting, winding roadway upon which they trod. He glanced at Yuri. “It would be hard to get an invading army through this section of landscape. Is there an easier way to get to the Palace?”
Yuri shook his head. “The Palace of the Tzars is as difficult to assault as is your own keep, Highness. There is a wide fjord that circles the Palace and empties into a smaller tributary of the Saint Steffen River. There is only one way over to the Palace and that is by ferry. The walls are heavily defended and there are warriors garrisoned around the fjord to protect the access to the water. I have been told there are land mines between the garrisons and the fjord itself, but I don’t know that for a fact.”
“Land ....?”
“Land mines,” Yuri offered. “They are a type of bomb.”
At his companion’s confused expression, Yuri explained. “A type of explosive that will detonate if pressure is applied to it. You step on it, your horse steps on it, your carriage rolls over it and ....” He shrugged. “You explode.”
“Impressive,” Conar muttered to himself. He caught a glimpse of the pride on Yuri’s face. “But any keep can be taken.”
Yuri flinched, knew he was being baited and tried to ignore it. “Anything can be tried,” he said softly.
Conar smiled to himself and looked up at the towering cliff wall beside him. Atop the highest crag a vulture sat watching them. He flapped his wings at their intrusion and then flew off, his scrawny neck arched before him as though it had been put on as an afterthought at his creation.
“Is everything in this country ugly?” Conar remarked.
“No more so than everything in your country!” Yuri snapped. He could have groaned at the look Conar sent his way, holding his breath for the reprimand he saw looming on that handsome face, but what came he could not have anticipated.
“I grow weary of your company,” Conar said in a dry, bored voice.
Yuri’s hand tightened on his reins. “I am sorry you will have to put up with it for awhile longer, Highness.”
“Not if I don’t wish to,” Conar answered. “Go away.”
“What?” Yuri turned his head, his brows drawing together with confusion. “I don’t ....”
“Try this on for size,” Conar thought to himself as he dug his heels into his mount’s flanks and shot ahead of the fuming Outer Kingdom warrior.
“Highness!” Yuri called out. He looked behind him at one of his fellow warriors, saw the man hunch his shoulders in fatalistic acceptance, and then grimaced. “Damn it!” He tapped his own horse’s sides and bolted forward behind the glistening palomino Conar McGregor rode with such reckless abandon.
Conar could hear the palfrey lumbering behind him and knew the glorious thoroughbred he was astride could easily outdistance the clumsier, heavier mount upon which Yuri rode with even more clumsy, awkward, and heavy seat.
Not that that was Conar’s intent. After all, he had absolutely no idea where he was going, but aggravating the older man had become a game with him and retaliation was its name. He heard his name called out in disgust, smiled to himself and urged his steed on to a greater speed. There was a sharp turn in the road ahead and he thought to make it, halt his mount, and turn to face the charging palfrey. To be just sitting there, wrists calmly crossed over the pommel, waiting, would set Yuri’s teeth sharper on edge.
Yuri yelled, but the golden horse and its golden-mane rider disappeared around the turn in the road in a blur of tawny light. “Son-of-a-bitch!” Yuri spat, digging his heels into the palfrey’s side for more speed, something the wide-flanked animal neither appreciated nor was willing to provide.
Another sharp turn in the road, a switchback curve to the left, awaited Conar as he took the first turn and he pulled his reins to turn his mount’s head. He was laughing, his face alive and happy for the first time in a long time as the palomino entered the second turn.
Then the smile was wiped from Conar’s mouth.
The laughter stilled on his lips.
The happiness died on his face to be replaced by a stunned look of surprise.
Yuri galloped heavily into the first turn, heard a piercing shriek of an animal in distress, heard a shout of warning, a muffled scream, a loud crash, and drew in on his mount’s reins, further annoying and upsetting the charging palfrey who reared up on its hind legs in protest of such rude behavior on the part of its rider.
Not expecting the horse to react in such a manner, and not all that expert at riding to begin with, Yuri’s grip on his reins loosened, his backside began to slide off the mount’s rump, and he hit the ground amidst a cloud of dust and stomping hooves. He would later thank his god that he had at that moment enough presence of mind to roll away from the kick the palfrey aimed at his head before the flashing hooves could connect with his noggin. He flipped over in the dust, came to land up hard against a jutting stone that gouged a small hole in his back, and yelped in surprise and pain.