Soulblade: An Epic Fantasy Adventure Romance (A Dance of Fire and Shadow Book 4)
Soulblade: Chapter 11

NEM AND BRAC ARRIVE with Lupine. Nem takes over prisoner guard duty. Deris has little success to report from his efforts at Elven-persuasion. It seems Dragar is determined to equate any form of cooperation with the enemy as being an act of treachery to his country.

Marin has calmed down enough to be able to advise patience more convincingly than he could have done half an hour ago.

“He may feel more open to ideas when he is back in his homeland. Meanwhile, we have to find a ship. Brac? Did you find the captain?”

“I found him all right. Well drunk. And being in command of t’ only ship in port means he can ask any price he likes. Which he did. As well as refusing to take our horses.”

“But you paid him?”

“No choice. He said that when the warning of the invasion came from Seasca, most of our fleet headed out to sea and sailed for Annubia. No one knows when they will be back here in Port Giltar.”

Marin does not seem surprised. “No doubt the ships will return carrying the Annubian grain promised by the Khalim. When I met with Tandarion at Blackthorn, he had only just received the confirmation message about the shipment. I expect your avaricious sea captain was the only one bold enough to set sail and bring the messenger here while there was still a risk that the Rapathians might yet remain in control of all our ports.”

Brac nods agreement. “Sounds about right. I thought he looked more pirate than captain. But even so, he never planned t’ risk sailing direct to Rapathia. He weighs anchor for the port of Al’harin in Annubia at first light tomorrow. No doubt hoping t’ pick up a shipment of grain for the return journey.”

“No matter. It will be easier for us to cross the mountains from Annubia without drawing as much attention to ourselves as if we disembarked at a Rapathian port.” Marin delegates our turns to keep watch on the prisoner overnight, although I suspect Dragar is unlikely to try to escape, not with heavy fetters on his limbs and a large wolf lying across the doorway.

Marin sits in a corner of the room for his promised conversation with Iryna, while I seek out a quiet space for a practice session with the scrying mirror.

Without Rian’s help the images are scattered and make no coherent sense but at least this time they are images. There was nothing but dark water showing when I tried this before. That has to mean I am making slow progress.

By the time Marin returns to help himself to his side of the wolfskin, my eyes are stinging from peering too hard at the tiny bowl. It is a relief to be able to close them while I ask some of the questions that have been collecting in my mind.

“Marin, what is this place?”

He eases himself closer and I sense in him the same need for comfort I had felt when I first met him and his friends. I slide my arms around him, resting my head on his shoulder and listening to his soft voice close to my ear.

“It is a house of the Eldrin. There are several in different parts of Samaran. When a warrior is too old or badly wounded to ever fight again, he might return to his family home. If he has none, he is posted to one of these houses. The people living here keep the peace, keep watch and report back to Maratic––or ask for backup if things get out of hand. Some of them become merchants and join the guilds, to check that they are not being taken over by crime lords or dishonest traders.”

“So why didn’t we come straight here?”

“Because I had no way of knowing if Jantian had revealed the truth about who I am and what I did. It seems he had only told Iryna and Saros a small part of it––and only because he had no choice. The Eldrin know me too well and the secret would not have been secure. Jantian must have guessed he would need backup if I defied his orders to return to Blackthorn after the battle. And then it seems he also chose Iryna to deliver Dragar to me.”

“But now you have told her everything?”

“Yes. She said that only knowing part of it was more difficult for her than the whole truth, however strange it seemed at first. But it did convince both of us that Jantian was right. The whole story is long and complicated and will only be understood when there is peace and the Eldrin have time to take it in. I just have to wait until that day comes.”

I still cannot understand how he manages to sound so calm when there is such a hollow sense of loss inside him. Eldrin training may be powerful, but the penalties for breaking their strict laws are severe.

THE ROOM IS DARK WHEN I hear Marin waking and moving off for his turn on watch. He looks at me in surprise when I follow him into the prisoner’s room.

“Ariel, you’re not due on for another two hours.”

“I’m not tired so I thought I would keep you company.”

Dragar is awake, glowering at us from under dark brows.

“I hope I don’t have to sit here listening to you two gossiping for the rest of the night.”

I’m in no mood for diplomacy.

“Actually, we were planning on having a long conversation about all the war crimes you committed on helpless villagers around the capital. But then we thought it was probably to sort of thing that cowardly people like you are actually proud of.”

Marin’s elbow digs sharply into my ribs. I suppose this is not quite the kind of dialogue likely to lead to greater cooperation. General Dragar doesn’t even seem to understand my comment.

“If the famous Eldrin cannot think about anything more important than the fate of a few nameless peasants, I am not surprised they were incapable of winning a battle without resorting to dragonfire.”

I roll my eyes and turn away from him to focus back on Marin.

“Marin? Why are you even trying to work with someone as ignorant as this? It would be so much easier to just leave his wretched country to the ruin his precious Emperor already inflicted on it.” I catch Marin’s almost imperceptible dip of the head, thanking me for setting up his response for him.

“Ariel, neither King nor Eldrin care at all about the fate of Rapathia. Our concern is that in its ruined state it will descend into famine, fighting and disease which will spread to our allies and eventually reach these shores.”

Out of the corner of my eye I catch a flicker of curiosity on Dragar’s face. Self-interest seems to be the one inducement the Emperor had trained his military to understand and respond to. Usually at the expense of the victims they had conquered.

After a pause, the captured general poses his own challenge.

“Your commander has sent only five of you on this mission. There is nothing five people can possibly do to rebuild an entire country. This is a spy mission, nothing more. If your offer of help were genuine, you would have released your prisoners of war to return home instead of keeping them to rebuild your own country.”

Marin makes an effort to keep his voice quiet and reasonable. “So you do not think it fair justice for our King to demand war reparations? Rapathia would not do the same if we had invaded your country?”

Dragar looks offended. “I did not say that. Of course we would enslave our prisoners and use them for profit. What else are slaves for? But we would not engage in the hypocrisy of pretending to help a defeated country under cover of a spy mission.”

It occurs to me that communication is suffering from too many unexamined assumptions that are radically different in our respective countries. It feels like an even greater gulf of understanding here than I experienced in my haphazard dealings with Elementals. Marin has noticed it too.

“General Dragar, you seem not to understand how the Samarian system works. There is no slavery in my country. Yes, your military will be indentured to towns and villages across the land to replace the people they have killed and help rebuild what they have destroyed. The term of servitude is five years, but those demonstrating exceptional service will be released early and allowed to return home to Rapathia. Our report from this mission will inform the King about the conditions they will find when they return.”

Dragar shakes his head. “This cannot be true. Why would you release your best and most cooperative workers?”

“As an incentive to the others to try to earn the same reward. Is that not obvious?”

Clearly not obvious to someone conditioned by the way Dragar has been trained. He makes no reply, but I catch Marin’s eye and I can tell he has seen the same small breakthrough that I have. The first fragment of communication with our belligerent captive.

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