Chained By Fear: 2 Page 15

  “I don’t understand.”

  Lucius sighed. He looked old again. “My queen, you must realize . . . I did things for you that I might not otherwise have considered.”

  “What are you talking about? Lucius, you’re frightening me.”

  “The boat dwellers are few in number. This sometimes creates . . . problems.”

  “What kind of problems? Speak plainly!”

  “Too much inbreeding becomes . . . unhealthy. Sometimes their children are born with deformities. Because of this, the boat dwellers desire—for lack of better words—new blood. But they’re not warriors and can’t take it by force . . . so they barter for it. Pearls are what they normally offer. But to me, they offered a place to hide.”

  “What did you give them in return?”

  Lucius rubbed his exhausted eyes. “Every day, slaves are brought to Avici—men, women and children. The boat dwellers prefer infants, and it was relatively easy for me to provide them. I was limited as to where I could go and what I could do. But Izumo was able to travel more freely. Over a period of several years, he gave the boat dwellers six infants—three boys and three girls. In return, they provided this kabang and their pledge of secrecy.”

  Laylah’s blue-gray eyes filled with tears. “Losing Bhacca was bad enough. But this is even worse. You used innocent babies to pay for my freedom? It’s too large a price. What joy can my life hold when burdened by such guilt?”

  Lucius grew stern. “Before you judge my actions too harshly, you must consider the ramifications. The boat dwellers may appear peculiar, but they’re not cruel. They’ll love these children and raise them as their own. Can the same be said of Invictus? When it comes to satisfying his pleasures, infants have special value. Don’t ask me to explain further. Suffice it to say that the babies Izumo delivered to the boat dwellers are far better off now than they would have been had I not made this arrangement.”

  Lucius’ words contained a desperate truth. The rise of Invictus was changing the rules of civilization.

  Laylah tried to stand, but the boat rocked so much she feared she might capsize it. Somewhere among the kabangs that floated nearby, a baby was crying.

  “I’ve seen things, terrible things,” Lucius said, still trying to justify his behavior. “However horribly Invictus treated you, he never forced you to witness what happened beneath Uccheda. But I was there, many times. If he catches us, I’m not sure what he’ll do to you, but I’m quite certain what he’ll do to me. We both needed a safe place to hide, and this was the best I could arrange. Forgive me if it does not suffice.”

  Then the firstborn eased himself onto one of the straw beds and instantly fell into a deep sleep. Laylah watched him for a while, the man who had sacrificed everything to save her.

  Lucius loved her. A woman knows these things. But she didn’t love him in return.

  Why? Was it because he was one of Invictus’ newborns?

  She didn’t believe that was the reason. In her eyes he was as much a man as any other. Why then could she not bring herself to love him? Had all her years of suffering and torture rendered her incapable?

  Still pondering the question, Laylah wrapped herself in her cloak and fell asleep. As the night wore on, she dreamed again of the man in the wagon with the long black hair and fierce blue eyes. When she woke, it still was dark, but she could sense the coming of dawn. The eastern horizon was a shade lighter than the rest of the sky.

  A pleasant breeze stroked her face. The surface of the water rippled. Lucius snored softly. Laylah rose to her knees, stretched out her stiff upper body, and studied her surroundings. She could see little in the darkness, but she heard splashing—accompanied, strangely, by tinkling laughter.

  The more she stared at the water, the more convinced she became she was seeing movement other than waves. Dark shapes broke the surface and quickly descended. She heard puffs of air, intermingled with ghostly whispers and giggles that were charming and unthreatening.

  Laylah lowered her right hand and dipped her fingers into the liquid darkness. It was icy cold.

  Something grasped her fingers and squeezed. She jerked her hand away with a gasp and found that she held a small, wiggly fish. Startled, she tossed it back. It pierced the surface of the lake like a spear. Lucius stirred but did not awaken.

  Laylah put her fingers back in the water. Something hard and round was placed in her hand, and she lifted a large white shell from the lake. This made her giggle, which was greeted by high-pitched laughter all around her. This time Lucius did wake up, and he banged his head on a rib of wood that supported the thatched roof. The laughter intensified. Finally even Lucius started to chuckle.

  “Our hosts have come for a visit,” the general said in a raspy voice. “But I’m not sure why we call them boat dwellers. They spend more time in the water than on it. Izumo says they can swim as well as ocean porpoises. And he says they can stay under water far longer than ordinary people. No one knows how deep Ti-ratana is, but the boat dwellers are able to swim all the way to the bottom in search of food. I’m sure that’s where the clam you’re holding came from.”

  Lucius took it from her and separated the shell with the tip of a dagger. Then he scooped out the flesh and dropped it into the palm of her hand.

  “The boat dwellers call them quahogs. They are a delicacy and are best eaten raw. Try it. They’re watching to see if you’ll accept their gift.”

  Laylah dropped the quahog into her mouth. It was excellent. She put her hand back in the water and felt another one placed there. More laughter followed.

  “They like you. But why shouldn’t they? You’re the most amazing woman to ever live.”

  Laylah blushed.

  “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you,” Lucius said. “It’s just that I’ve never been able to express how I feel about you, without the fear of being overheard.”

  Laylah’s heartbeat quickened. She had dreaded this moment for years. Lucius deserved more than she could give. “You didn’t embarrass me. It’s just that . . . I need time. So much has happened to me. To us. I’m still frightened by what might yet happen.”

  To her relief, her response seemed to satisfy Lucius. “Of course, my queen. We must focus on safety and survival. Our future need not be rushed. For now, just being in your presence is enough.”

  “Thank you, General. I feel the same.”

  Lucius smiled. “Speaking of how we feel, how do you feel? You seem so much better than yesterday.”

  “I am better, for now. The true test will come when the sun rises.”

  “I predict you’ll be fantastic, even then. And when Izumo returns at midnight, he’ll be pleased to find that you’re fully healed.”

  The firstborn reached into the water and splashed his face. Just then, a pair of small brown hands grasped the bow, and in one fluid motion a tiny man—about the height of a five-year-old boy—lifted himself into the boat. He stood in front of them, dripping wet but apparently not the slightest bit cold. Now there was just enough light in the east to provide visibility. The man was dark-skinned, muscular and not embarrassed by his nakedness.

  “Hello,” was all Laylah could think to say.

  The little man was delighted. Without rocking the boat he ran to her, wrapped his stubby arms around her neck, and hugged her tight. Then he turned, leaped high into the air, and dove into the water, splashing her cloak.

  Laylah laughed again. “Can they speak?” she asked Lucius.

  “A few of them know words in the common tongue and can converse well enough, though their voices sound like children’s to our ears. But only their own people are able to understand their true dialect. It baffled even Izumo, who is fluent in many languages, including the ancient tongue, where magic was born.”

  “But they’re so small. What of the babies you provided? They’ll become giants, in comparison.”

  “Izumo says the babies raised by boat dwellers do not grow to what we consider normal size. I don’t know why. Is it because of som
ething they eat or drink? Perhaps the dracool will be able to tell us when he returns. He is wise in the ways of the world.”

  As Lucius spoke, Laylah felt a flare of discomfort in her right temple. She turned to the east and saw the first sliver of the sun creeping above the horizon.

  “My queen, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

  Laylah leaned over the side of the boat and vomited.

  As Lucius knelt beside her, the little man pulled himself back onboard.

  “She sick?” he said, in a high-pitched voice.

  “I don’t know. Laylah, what’s wrong?”

  As the sun climbed, her pain intensified. Waves of dizziness and nausea wracked her, causing her to shiver.

  “The sun is . . . ill.”

  And then despite the coming of a clear, bright day, darkness overcame Laylah, and she knew little more.

  20

  From then on, Laylah lay on the kabang, her body wracked with fever. She vomited constantly, becoming dangerously dehydrated. Dozens of boat dwellers came to visit, popping in and out of the craft like flying fish. They brought her potions intended to rouse her from her torpor. But nothing had much effect. During the late afternoon, Lucius told her that he was worried she might not survive, and he allowed six of the tiny boat dwellers to lift her over the side of the kabang into the chilly water. They held her there, submerged to her chin, while she spluttered and shivered. When they returned her to the boat, her body temperature had lowered enough to permit sleep.

  Laylah woke soon after sunset, her fever broken. Lucius forced her to sip some water. The boat dwellers brought her raw fish eggs. Though they went down cold and slimy, her stomach welcomed their arrival. By midevening she was able to sit up.

  “What happened to me?” she asked, shakily.

  “As soon as the sun showed its face this morning, your fever returned,” Lucius said. “You muttered something about the sun being ‘ill.’ As the day grew brighter, your condition worsened, and it was all we could do to keep you alive. Whatever happened to Invictus at Avici also seems to have affected you. I’m hoping Izumo will be able to tell us something when he returns at midnight. He has lived as long as some dragons and knows many things mortals do not.”

  Laylah asked for more water. The later it became, the better she felt. Several of the boat dwellers peered at her over the side of the kabang. They smiled and giggled, pleased by her improved condition.

  “I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she said to Lucius. “The sun has always sickened me, but never to this extent. But when the sun rose this morning, I felt like I was being poisoned. Now that it’s dark, I feel a little better. In another day, the first crescent moon will appear in the western sky. Perhaps by then I’ll be healed.”

  Later that evening, Laylah ate a fish stew the boat dwellers had prepared. The man who appeared to be their leader, introduced as Moken, served her. He could speak the common tongue well enough to be understood.

  “Eat . . . pale lady,” Moken said, presenting her with a turtle shell of bubbling stew. A clam shell served as a spoon. “This make you strong.”

  “Thank you, Moken,” Laylah said. “It smells delicious. But my stomach is queasy.”

  “Eat!” he insisted. “You feel better.” He dove over the side and disappeared.

  Laylah took a few bites. “I’m sorry, Lucius. That’s all I can manage. Maybe you should eat the rest. It will do us no good if I recover, and you become ill.”

  Lucius reluctantly agreed but then devoured the remainder of the stew with ravenous delight. He offered her wine, but she declined. They sat together and waited for Izumo to arrive.

  Shortly after midnight the dracool appeared, landing roughly on the bow. His cumbrous weight—almost thirty stones—unbalanced the small craft, causing it to rock and shudder. Izumo was clearly uncomfortable. His wings, made of scale, flesh and sinew, did not respond well to saturation. Dracools, in general, stayed away from large bodies of water because they couldn’t swim. If they fell into deep water, they sank like boulders.

  “Good evening, Laylah,” Izumo said. “I’m pleased to see you are well.”

  Before Laylah could respond, Lucius interjected. “She appears well now, but she was horribly ill all through the day. So much so that I feared we might lose her. The sun sickens her far worse than usual. Do you have any idea why?”

  “I don’t understand any of this,” Izumo said. “But the event at Avici was not as unusual as you mortals might believe. The sun darkens many times each millennium, though it’s only visible in certain areas of the world. Still, I’ve never seen it harm anyone.”

  “I don’t expect you to solve my problems,” Laylah said to the dracool. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. There’s no way I’ll ever be able to repay you.”

  “Your appreciation isn’t necessary. I never would have aided you if I didn’t believe I was helping my flock. Your brother is a blight. If allowed to flourish, he will destroy the glories of the world. If helping you somehow thwarts his ambitions, then I have chosen properly, even if my brothers and sisters don’t agree.”

  “What news have you of Invictus?” Lucius said.

  “I dared not approach too near Avici. Instead, I flew west to the foothills and eventually hid in a cave. Most of the dracools in Invictus’ service—more than one hundred in all—followed Bhayatupa toward the mountains, but I know naught what happened afterward. Lord Bhayatupa is beyond any and all. Perhaps no creature, save Invictus himself, could stand against Mahaasupanna (mightiest of all dragons).”

  “You saw nothing unusual?” Lucius said.

  “West of the lake, the skies were empty. No ravens, eagles, dracools, or dragons, though the latter is not a surprise. Besides Bhayatupa, there are only nine great dragons still active—of which the dracools are aware—and none can abide the Mahaasupanna. Once he was resurrected, we believe that all nine fled to the southern regions of Kolankold, including a golden female that at one time serviced Invictus.”

  “Even where you hid, there should have been winged spies in the sky,” Lucius said. “It surprises me how slowly Invictus seems to be reacting.”

  “Could it be that my brother remains disabled?’ Laylah said. “Does chaos reign over Avici?”

  “We dare not depend on it,” Lucius said.

  “Tonight I’ll fly to the east and see what I can see. But I’ll have to return to my hiding place before dawn. Expect me again at midnight tomorrow. By then I should know more.”

  “Take care,” Lucius said. “Laylah and I need you more than ever.”

  “Yes, take care,” Laylah said.

  “I’ll do my best. You should be safe here, as long as Laylah doesn’t become ill again. Guard her well, Lucius.”

  The dracool vanished into the dark sky. The rest of the night was uneventful. But when dawn arrived, Laylah’s sickness returned. Lucius could do nothing but cool her brow and force her to sip water. To make matters worse, a storm approached from the east at midday, blasting their boat with stinging rain, hail and strong winds. For a short while, it became almost as dark as during the eclipse two days before. The fleet of kabangs proved surprisingly seaworthy, riding the waves as well as much larger craft. But it was rough on Laylah, whose condition worsened. And Lucius—who had little experience with boats—also became sick.

  Just when it appeared it would never weaken, the storm passed. Soon after, Lucius appeared to feel better, but Laylah continued to struggle. For her the bright sun was worse than the storm. How ironic, she thought, during a rare moment of clarity, that I could die out here as a free woman while managing to stay alive for so long in Avici as a prisoner.

  Finally dusk came, prompting Laylah’s illness to dissipate. As the crescent moon set in the west she was able to drink water and eat fish stew, replenishing a portion of her strength. A long time later the dracool appeared again. He was exhausted, and when he landed on the kabang he nearly capsized it.

  “Avici is no longer in pa
ralysis,” Izumo was finally able to say. “I found a hiding place within a league of the city and was able to watch some of what occurred. Sixty of my flock flew in a continuous circle in the skies above Uccheda. That was not a good sign. It appears Bhayatupa killed more than three dozen of my brothers and sisters. And I wasn’t there to help prevent it.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Lucius said. “Invictus is to blame. He lured the dragon from his long sleep.”

  “My legacy will be that of traitor and coward,” Izumo said.

  “If Invictus is defeated, your name will be cleared,” Lucius said.

  “I won’t live to see that day. Already my flock conspires against me. The minds of all dracools are interwoven. They don’t have the ability to determine my exact whereabouts, but given enough time they can delve into my mind and end my life from afar. Still, I knew this and accepted the risk. Do not mourn.”

  “What good could come of your death?” Laylah said.

  “It is beyond the comprehension of mortals to understand the ways of the dracools,” Izumo said.

  Laylah sighed. “Regardless of what happens, Lucius and I will remain your dearest friends. We have nothing but respect for you. You are beyond our comprehension, as you say. But that doesn’t stop us from loving you.”

  “What’s done is done,” Izumo said. “I must depart. I’ll be back at the usual time tomorrow night.”

  As dawn approached, Laylah sensed the return of her fever. She wasn’t sure if she could survive another day. While Lucius slept in the stern of the kabang, the boat dwellers laughed and splashed in the dark water. But suddenly they grew silent. Something terrified them, and they fled. Laylah turned her head slowly—and gasped. A raven perched on the side of the hull, studying her with glowing eyes.

  “You’re not nearly as strong as your brother, and even he required Mala’s aid to recover from the effects of the eclipse,” the raven said. “There’s only one way for you to survive. You must find the healer.”