I wished the vendors selling food had remained on the pier and felt the coins in the purse at my waist. If I saw a boy on the pier who looked trustworthy, I’d call out to him and send him in search of the chunks of meat they sold that roasted on sticks over hot coals and emitted such wonderful scents.
The city caught my attention. Two-story tall buildings, most with dreary, but fresh paint in neutral colors as if none wished to stand out. The construction appeared solid, but there was little decoration and no flowers, although on the morning side of many were vegetable gardens. With the desert heat on my back, I knew the garden placement protected the plants from the scorching afternoon sun.
However, the sun was sinking fast, and already I felt the first touches of damp coolness from the ocean breeze. Almost everyone wore a protective hat, long sleeves, and had skin darkened from the sun to the color of aged wood. Unlike in Trager, which was only a day’s sail away under normal circumstances, there were people who were built husky and even some fat in sight. That told me a lot. It was a good test of the prosperity of a kingdom. Those cities like Trager had residents thin as kindling.
Trager had been a city of starving people looking more like stilts than those who’d had a meal yesterday and today. There was no joy on the faces. The people of Vin smiled. Vendors had products to sell.
But the Council of Nine ruled, and when I looked closer, there were small things that indicated cracks are forming. The lack of flowers and color bothered me. Where drab-colored paint chipped, reds, yellows, and whites peeked through. There had been color here, once. Not too long ago.
As the light dimmed more, and twilight turned to what we in Dire described as first-dark, a regular sound drifted to me and caught my attention. It echoed off the walls, and the few people on the streets faded away as candles were extinguished in the windows. The waterfront of Vin grew darker while the regular sound increased.
I recognized it. It was the marching of boots on stone streets. Army boots. Growing closer.
Around the corner of a building, a column of soldiers dressed in blue four across marched. Their arms swung as their boots pounded the ground in unison. They turned the corner and marched down the slope of the hill directly at the foot of the pier where the Gallant was tied. An officer, if the amount of gold braid on his shoulders and sleeves told anything of his rank, marched at the head. He called for a halt at the bottom of the gangplank.
I glanced away long enough to see that while there were plenty of lights in the rest of Vin, only the area near the ship was dark. Not a single light shown from a window. Local residents were scared and hid in the darkness. The damp coolness from the breeze turned cold.
The officer bounced up the gangplank and pulled to a stop in front of the sailor on duty. They exchanged a few words and the sailor turned and ran for the bridge where the captain’s quarters were located.
The captain rushed out while tucking his shirt into his waistband, barefoot, and red-faced. He charged the officer and shouted a series of questions. The officer shook his head, refusing to leave the ship.
The captain balled his fists and moved closer, ready to enforce his orders, but a short, thin sword appeared in the hand of the officer, the tip of the point touching the captain’s stomach. From my vantage, it was as if the officer dared him to move.
The officer waved his left arm, and four men trotted aboard. He asked the captain something. The captain’s head turned to face where I stood.
All four raced to me, two taking up positions on either side. None held weapons displayed. I briefly thought that if I could get my hands on a sword belonging to one, I could kill him and defeat the other three. Then I came to my senses. If I did, four more, or perhaps eight would rush me, maybe more. Sailors and passengers would rush to my rescue and die.
I stood tall.
One said, “You will come with us.”
The captain’s eyes smoldered as I passed by him. They looked directly at the officer still holding him at bay with the sword, and I wouldn’t wish to be him if the captain ever encountered him without a sword held to him. On a ship, all ships, the captains are kings. Always. To be boarded and have a passenger removed went against all he believed in and all maritime law.
It just scared the hell out of me. All my tough talk, my flouncing away from the Council in the passenger lounge, all my good intentions, and all my plans were gone. There was nothing else to do but attempt to be brave and not act the little girl I felt inside.
I was a political captive in a foreign land.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Damon
My sister said, “Damon, keep up. We must hurry to rescue Elizabeth.”
I glanced guiltily at Emma who was struggling to keep up at my side and back at Kendra. The small girl was slowing our pace. She had complained all morning. I turned to Kendra. “Are there any mages or sorceresses in Vin? And where is your dragon?”
Anna’s voice appeared in my head, strong and clear, *She’s going to get you in trouble with your sister. She’s going slow on purpose.*
*I think she is weary. It has been hard on her.*
*Don’t trust her.* Anna said in my head, like any jealous sister.
I had to laugh. Kendra thought I was laughing at her, and sure enough, I got one of those looks again. Anna had been right about me getting into trouble with Kendra—sort of.
Kendra said in a sour tone as we walked through the soft, beige sand, “Flier said the Waystone is just over the next hill in the edge of the trees. There is also a road we can follow. His farm is down the road where we can hopefully get local clothing and food. And maybe some useful information, too.”
“Why are you so interested in seeing another Waystone?”
She said, “Because I have an experiment for you to perform.”
“We’re in a hurry, I thought.”
“It won’t take long, in fact, we can start it as soon as we reach the road ahead.”
I respected her insights and knew that if she wanted to conduct some sort of experiment, there must be a valid reason, even I couldn’t see it yet. We reached the road, and she paused. She motioned for Flier to join us.
While holding a small branch for me to accept, she said, “Create a flame at the tip of it, the largest size you can.”
Willing to go along with her, I drew heat from our surroundings and made a flame at the tip of the branch. It was the size of a pea.
“Larger,” she said.
I tried, and the flame remained the same.
She said to Flier, “Blindfold Damon, please.”
Anna giggled, and Emma smirked as Flier used his scarf to wrap around my head and eyes. I held the branch in front of me as Kendra took one elbow and Flier the other. They walked me down the two-rut road, warning me of potholes, but otherwise, they were quiet.
“Bigger,” Kendra said. “Make the flame larger.”
Nobody else talked. We walked, and they made sure I didn’t trip in holes, or over rocks. They warned me before each, and Kendra repeated her instructions about the size now and then. Otherwise, nobody spoke. I grew irritated, my head grew sweaty under the scarf, and I was about to object and end the experiment.
Kendra said, “Stop here. Remove the blindfold. Damon, keep the flame as large as you can.”