Louisa Shorney

Unsure of the proper attire for ambush and abduction, Jainus has dressed and redressed several times, finally opting for a sand coloured cotton suit he sits on the edge of the bed in eager anticipation, imaging the lavish attentions laid upon him by Lamia when he returns as her hero, the captor of Ashima and saviour of the day. His daydreams are interrupted by a quiet knocking at his door, spot on seven before noon as Quercus had promised. Giving himself one last look of admiration as he passes his reflection in the mirror, Jainus opens the door.

‘Paiman I presume. Lead on man, no time to dally.’

Quercus had warned of the snake’s rude arrogance, so Paiman misses neither a skip of his beat, nor has a flutter of ire, as Jainus slithers past him. He is a tall, slender and swarthy looking man, with shoulder length, thick dark hair that is partially tied back with a strap of leather. His deep set dark eyes, accentuated with kohl as is the tradition of his people, stare down upon Jainus with less contempt than he deserves. Compassion is an Assassini’s sword and their shield. Jainus slithers into the lobby lounge and comes to an abrupt halt, darting his head from side to side, as he realises that he hasn’t got a clue where he is going nor what he is doing. Paiman gracefully glides past Jainus, with his arm held as sign post and his head respectfully inclined, he offers direction.

‘This way Sir. The tour cruiser awaits around the side Sir, towards the old stables.’

‘I’m not your S…..’

Raising his eyebrows in warning and holding his gaze with those shadowed eyes, Paiman does not let Jainus continue.

‘I will be your Tour Guide for the day Sir. Have you visited Arboria before, Sir?’

Slowly gleaning the guise and his own ineptitude Jainus drops his hauteur. Shaking his head in response to Paiman’s question, he follows his direction and leaves the building with all the poise of a berated school boy. They take the side path that leads to the back of the main building and to the courtyard of old stables. Rounding the corner Jainus sees a multi occupancy, rough terrain, vehicle waiting with engine running, he can make out the silhouettes of four other passengers through the viewing windows. Paiman opens the rear passenger door for Jainus to take his place with three of the four and then climbs up into the front seat by the driver. Turning to address the company, Paiman speaks in his native tongue.

‘This is the snake that the Oak warned us about, Sir Jainus. His tongue may be forked by it is not bilingual.’

A murmur of mirth travels through the vehicle and with all eyes upon Jainus a creeping feeling shivers up his spine, but before he can make any protestations Paiman once again takes command of his speech.

‘Jainus please let me introduce our companions. Opposite yourself sits Rahim, behind him is Shahizad and sat behind yourself is Azar, our driver here is Jahan.’

The four men nod their heads in greeting and Jainus can not help himself but to follow suit.

‘These men are from our hand picked elite fighting forces and they are honoured to be aiding the cause. It is time that our country was free from these Belarian fools, we are glad to be taking their Queen from them.’

The Assassini raise their fists with a shout of camaraderie and defiance. Jainus tries to reclaim some command.

‘Yes, yes. I have a letter here with instructions for your leader, Cas is it?’

Paiman leans a long arm over the back of his seat, with the palm of his hand facing up he gestures with his fingers.

‘Here I will take this to him.’

‘Oh, no, no, no. Brian….er….Quercus said that I was to hand it to him myself.’

Rahim speaks in their native tongue.

‘This one does not know his arse from his hole, let him take it. We can mask his eyes, he will not know where he is.’

‘The Oak tells us not to be drawn by his folly, he has great skill with the mind speak and can draw out your thoughts if they are not guarded well.’

‘Arash’s sister, Omid, has his skill does she not? She lives in the city, I’m sure that she can be persuaded to join with us.’

Paiman looks to the remaining company for feedback, each nods their agreement in turn.

‘It is settled then. Jahan, drive on brother.’

Leaving the luxurious oasis of the Palais De Belaris behind them, they do not have far to travel before the opulent facade drops its mantle. The once tree lined, slick, oil sand, esplanade turns to grit and holes as it traverses the bare rock, stump strewn, dust bowl, that has become of the verdantly flourishing flood plains. The valley road hugs the banks of the magnificent Pleione River, the main artery of the Eastern and Southern Quadrants. Flowing, pitifully, twenty feet below them, only a quarter of her original girth, her shrunken volume can no longer carry the grand ocean going vessels of her renown. For her shame the only cargo she carries now are the long thin trunks of the last remaining Arborian Forests, deep in the Eastern Hinterlands, which drift sluggishly down her weary current. Even Jainus’s shrivelled heart can not help but drop a tear at such a sight. Chess playing these pawns, within alabaster walls with Her Lordship, is one thing but the reality of it is far more shocking than he had thought to imagine it.

Having bumped through dust swell for thirty leagues or so, Jainus’s lips are dry and caked. The arid air catches in his throat as he tries to moisten them and he nearly chokes himself upon his own coughing. Azar leans over him waving a silken scarf.

‘Here this will help against the dust and it will catch the moisture in your breath. Do you have defusers?’

Jainus manages to nod a response.

‘Put them on, it will ease the dust sting in your eyes.’

Rahim hands him a stoppered gourd, shaking it as he does, so that its contents can be heard sloshing inside it.

‘Capra juice. Water is Arborian gem, rare and highly valuable. They whom own the water control the land. Drink. It will rehydrate you.’

Jainus takes the offering and before he realises, touches it to his forehead as a sign of gratitude and even a little humility, before popping the cork and taking a draft. The elixir is thin and lightly creamy with a delicate sweetness, leaving a slight protective glaze on his lips. Replacing the stopper he hands the gourd back to Rahim, who gestures for him to offer it to the others, he passes it to Paiman to hand to Jahan.

‘Thank you, that was very refreshing. How much further before we reach your camp?’

Shahizad slaps the side of the cruiser as he answers.

‘We can not reach the camp in this. The last leagues we must walk and you must be blind fold. But first we go to the old port of Taygete.’

He turns and looks out of the window, checking the lay of the land, before turning back to Jainus.

‘Which is another five or six leagues may be.’

Taygete is the first and last port on the Pleione, as such she has been closed the longest. Beyond her the river falls in a tall cascade down the shear face of Tantalus, the giant rock that marks the start of the Cleodician Mountains and the end of the glacial cut gorge that forms Pleione’s bed as she travels down from her birth place, high up in mountains. Taygete was a thriving city port in her hay day, famous for the ship building crafters that took advantage of the natural deep water harbour created by the vast volumes of a water that plummeted down Tantalus, carving a deep pool into the bedrock at his feet. Now the great fall is nothing more than a trickle in comparison and with the harbour no longer big enough to carry the hull of an ocean goer, the once illustrious docks are dead. The streets of the city clamber up into the tumbling feet of the Cleodicians like goat tracks. Many of the buildings are actually hewn into the very rocks from which they are built, fancy facades fronting hand carved caves. The place is rather more of a bustling hive of activity than Jainus had imagined a city with no industry could be. Brightly dyed awnings flapping in the breeze cover the streets, as protection from sun and sand, lined with stalls selling artisan’s wares: Capra juice cheeses; vine fruits, dried and fresh; spices; Silken fabrics; Leather goods; Tanned hides; Meats and fish, smoked and cured; Grain bins, milled and whole, baked and battered; A myriad of colours, smells and sounds crowd the narrow streets. Somewhere out of sight a drum bangs as a flute whistles to the plaintive pull of a bow across strings. Leaving Jahan to charm the snake in one of the cave cafes with a pot of steaming Arabica and an array of candied sweetmeats, the others go off in search of provisions and Omid.

*

Brian arrives at the same time as Benham rolls up with the room service trolley laden with a breakfast banquet.

‘I do hope you brought enough for the three of us Benham?’

‘I did take the liberty of presuming to know the Oak’s mind Sir, yes.’

‘Oh please Benham, call me Brian when there is no need otherwise. Here let me get the door.’

He briefly raps upon the door and opens it without waiting for Gwern to answer, knowing that he is already waiting for them on the terrace. He should be feeling a sense of illation now that he no longer has to bind his mind with fire and steel, but Gwern is not. Instead he sits on the edge of his seat with a pink rose, that he’s plucked from one of the surrounding bushes, pressed to his nose whilst tears silently pour down his face. He looks up as he hears the trolley trundling across the polished marble slabs.

‘Oh Brian, I didn’t hear you knock. Thank you Benham, you can leave the trolley there, no need to wait.’

‘No Benham there is no need to wait, but if you would be so kind as to pour us all an arabica before you take a seat, I think that our brother here is in need.’

Brian sits down beside Gwern and puts his hand, kindly, upon his shoulder.

‘Brother let me ease your pain a little. The Master has sent word through the Dermus. He has made them safe.’

Gwern collapses his head into Brian’s chest as if all the strain of the worry and pain has been a scaffolding, the only thing keeping him up. He takes a long deep breath in through his nose, drawing it right down into his belly and holds it for a moment, before slowly and purposefully expelling it from his mouth. He does this several times whilst Brian gently rests his palm between his shoulder blades and lends him strength. Each breath slowly refilling the core that had been hollowed out. When he finally lifts his head from Brian’s chest, his eyes show a deep shining power that he has not been able to wield since he stepped foot inside Lamia’s gleaming alabaster edifice of cruelty and manipulative deceit. Brian locks eyes with him for a moment to ensure his wellbeing is stabilised.

‘I’m sorry that I can give you no more information than that brother, but rest assured that no harm can come to either of them now. Your family are safe.’

‘It is enough and all that is necessary for now. I can complete my mission with good heart, knowing that I will never have to fawn at the feet of that invidious serpent again. As to that I trust that you have some thing to share, else Brian would not have you sat with us. I must also offer you may thanks Benham for sending me Arash to take the wait of the snake.’

‘To have endured so much for so long would have shattered a lesser mind Lord Carpinus, so I am glad that we could be of assistance.’

‘Please there is no need to use title with me friend, my name is Gwern.’

‘Of all the Hounds the Hornbeam has the most renown, it is a great honour for you to call me friend.’

Benham bows his head with deference to Gwern.

‘Benham is one of the Queens most trusted intimates, Gwern, he guards her honour and her person. Although that job has become somewhat covert since Lamia moved her intimidation thugs into play. So what advantage have you managed to secure us Benham?’

‘The Queen is aware of the plot and knows to play along no matter who or what she sees. Our Lady is a champion bow master and a skilled horsewomen, so when the time comes she will carry her own. She is no pampered princess.’

‘She is one of The Seven, I would expect nothing less. So what of these stooges, friend? Do you have a plan for them?’

‘They will go down with the snake, as will myself and Arash.’

‘You will be joining us? Will you not be recognised?’

‘They can not tell Assini from Belarian, I will be just another Arborian to them, besides more attention is paid to my suit than my face in this job. We will be dressed in the uniform of the National Horse Guard as such that is all they will see.’

‘Ha! Yes! I do like the irony of using their own racism as armour against them.’

‘The guard are all loyal to the Queen, I picked them myself. Arash and myself will ensure that the ruse is not routed, Arash will be needed to keep a shield around the snake. Our Lady takes the falcons out to spread their wings, every quarter of the moon, to the Woods of Brackholm. It is a thousand league wood which is mostly still wild, therefore ideal for ambush and escape. As the Lord High Commissioner’s emissary, she will send you official invitation to join her in a turn around the woods this morning. Does this meet with the Hounds’ approval?’

‘It’s perfect, Benham, we couldn’t have come up with better ourselves.’

‘And the arrangements for the stronghold are they in place? I’m not sure how safe she will be there now that my wife is no longer in her grasp, Lamia knows too much.’

‘Do not worry my friend, a decoy has been prepared and a run around back to Taygete where you will be smuggled out by boat.’

‘You have indeed thought of everything Benham, we are most grateful to you.’

‘She is my Queen, it is I that am grateful to you for keeping her from harm.’

‘The Hounds serve to protect the Seven, it is our duty and our honour.’

A series of electronic beeps from Benham’s belt interrupt their conversation. He unclips the lexometor from his belt and presses the button to read the message that’s been sent.

‘Ah, it is your harmaxi Brian, the teramaton is ready.’