Test The Awakened: Book Two, page 2
The man spoke again, quieter this time, and waved for Adair to come out of the chariot.
Adair rose to a crouching position, looking around the chariot. The other four men were standing at ease. They also had the strange looking weapons hanging from straps around their shoulders and necks. They were pointed at the ground and only being held casually.
Again, the man at the rear of the chariot waved for him to get out.
Adair stood up and made his way to the man, who backed up and waited.
When he reached the ground, the man said something to him, but Adair didn’t understand.
Then the man pointed over Adair’s shoulder at the other men who had started walking along the road. Adair understood and followed as the group leader walked behind him. After several minutes, a low thrumming sound could be heard. When they rounded a bend in the road, Adair stopped, frozen with fear.
The low thrumming sound was now like a hundred chariots, coming from a giant beast that hovered over the ground in a nearby clearing. It was like an enormous green locust, with buzzing wings that lifted it off the ground.
The group leader pointed at it and said something.
Adair shook his head in protest, but four of the other men were already starting to walk in that direction. Again, the leader pointed.
Against his better judgment, Adair obeyed. Perhaps it was because he knew that he really didn’t have a choice. Whoever these men were, they were able to kill quickly and efficiently, and that was something Adair could respect.
The men moved without hesitation, only the leader hung back with Adair. As they neared the beast, still exuding the deep pulsing sound, it became more difficult for Adair. Then, a door opened in the side of the locust, and another man in a helmet reached out his hand from the inside.
Adair realized that like the boat and the chariot, this was another method of transportation. He watched in fascination as the first four men climbed into it.
The fifth man now stood behind him, waiting.
Adair swallowed the lump in his throat and walked forward, taking the man’s hand and climbing into the belly of the beast.
The fifth man quickly followed.
Adair followed the example of the others and sat on the padded benches that lined the interior. Suddenly, the locust rose into the air and Adair felt his stomach began to twist. They were already thirty feet in the air before the man in the helmet shut the door.
Adair leaned his head back and closed his eyes, trying to fight the nausea in his gut.
Someone touched his leg.
Adair opened his eyes and the group leader was looking straight at him and shaking his head from side to side. The man pointed two fingers at his own eyes and then pointed out the window of the beast as he spoke in his foreign tongue.
Adair understood, and kept his eyes open, looking out the window. After only a few seconds, he felt better. Then he realized that the feeling was something like sea sickness. It was better to be above deck than below where you couldn’t see anything.
Adair watched the trees fly by below them.
We’re flying, he realized!
The group leader said something and Adair turned.
The man repeated the phrase and Adair thought he heard something recognizable. One of the four words sounded like a greeting in an ancient tongue, before the establishment of the Orud Empire. It was the word for welcome.
Again, the man repeated the phrase.
“Welcome Soth Am…” Adair attempted, mimicking the sounds.
The man smiled, then repeated the phrase.
Adair listened carefully, then imitated the words. “Welcome to South America.”
All the soldiers laughed. Adair had no idea where South America was, but he knew that it was nowhere near Bastul. Somehow, he knew he was in a different world altogether.
Chapter 2
The streets of the market district in Bastul were teeming with merchants and their customers. Hundreds of people clamored to find the best deal or offer the best service, screaming over one another’s voices. Maeryn and Aelia stood under a yellow silk shade, searching through piles of rich fabrics. Silk, satin, wool, and linen were all arranged neatly in stacks, organized by color. Aelia, now sixteen years of age, pulled a roll of ocean blue satin from the stack in front of her.
“What about this?” she asked her mother.
Maeryn looked up and examined the fabric, reaching out a hand to feel the quality. “That’s perfect,” she replied. “Even the pattern would go well with this,” she said, lifting her arm which was draped with pure white linen. “Hang on to that, but keep looking.”
“Alright,” Aelia replied, tucking the roll under her arm.
As Aelia turned around to continue the search for the makings of her coming-of-age dress, Maeryn was struck by how beautiful her daughter was. Her wavy chocolate colored hair fell to the middle of her back. Aelia preferred not to braid it or wear it gathered on the top of her head, as was the current trend. She always kept it loose and the look was even starting to catch on with a few of her friends. She had brown eyes just like her father and some of his other facial features as well. And like Kael, Aelia had inherited her mother’s lean frame.
Kael.
As soon as the thought came, a pang of sadness gripped her heart. It seemed like so long ago, but she never failed to remember the pain.
“My lady,” someone behind her called. Maeryn ignored the voice, always having a difficult time keeping anonymous when she went into the city.
“My lady,” the voice repeated, from closer than before.
Maeryn turned around and searched the crowds. Just inside of the bustling street stood a woman that looked just as ordinary as everyone around her, but Maeryn’s heart jumped in her chest. She recognized the lady as a messenger for the Resistance movement, though Maeryn usually dealt with someone else to carry out her correspondence. She immediately spun around and called to Aelia. “I’ll be right back.”
Aelia waved without taking her eyes off the fabric in front of her.
Maeryn strode quickly over to the woman and nodded for her to follow. After fighting the swarms of people moving up and down the street, the pair made their way to an alley between a meat seller and a masonry building.
“What is the meaning of approaching me in public?” Maeryn barked at the woman, unable to contain the fear in her voice.
“I’m sorry, but it was necessary. Your main contact has been captured.”
“My…” Maeryn stopped, unable to formulate a question with all of the thoughts that suddenly collided in her head.
“He was bringing a message to you when he was taken into custody. Your husband has not been to see him yet, but the soldiers sent for him almost an hour ago.”
Maeryn swallowed hard, struggling against the panic that threatened her sanity. “What do they know?”
“Nothing yet, but the torture hasn’t begun. My lady, he will protect your identity with his very life,” she offered as a consolation.
“Yes, I know,” Maeryn replied. “But you don’t know my husband; he will find a way to make him talk.” Being cruel is one of the only things at which he is proficient.
The woman only nodded her head. “I must go now. I don’t want to put you in any more danger than necessary.”
“Thank you,” Maeryn said and watched as the woman walked down the alley and melded back into the crowds.
After paying for the fabric, Maeryn took Aelia back to the mansion and left her in Zula’s care. She had to call upon her acting skills, which had been honed by years of practice, in order to keep from drawing Aelia’s suspicion. But inwardly, fear and panic were building. If Lemus managed to get any information out of her contact, Maeryn’s life would come to a swift end. Of that, she was sure.
Just over an hour after the woman had approached her in the market district, Maeryn was seated in a carriage, making her way west along the foothills to the north of Bastul. The stone road separated the farms on her right from the ocean cliffs on her left. It was a slow journey, but it was the only way that the Governess could travel without drawing attention to herself, and privacy meant just as much as speed in this situation. Maeryn would much rather have raced out of the city on horseback, but that wasn’t practical.
After what seemed like an eternity, the carriage turned off the road to the north and onto a dirt path that divided two fields. Maeryn’s heart quickened with anticipation of the coming meeting. She had suspected long ago the identity of the Resistance leader of Bastul, but had never seen fit to confirm it. Now she had no choice. Her time of secrecy with Lemus was coming to an end and she had to act quickly. If this meeting went as she hoped it would, the Resistance would offer her and Aelia refuge and passage out of the city.
The carriage bumped and bounced its way to the northern end of the enormous estate. Finally, the main house came into view, and Maeryn smiled at the rustic beauty of the place. The main house was a stone structure that seemed to enjoy spreading out in the openness of its rural habitat. It had a tiled roof and branched off in many directions like roots of a tree, searching for water. Behind the house, several smaller buildings contained the stables and slave quarters. In the distance, row upon row of citrus trees marked the beginning of the orchard.
The carriage came to a stop fifty feet from the main house on a graveled path that circled a small stand of trees before heading back out to the main road. Maeryn, eager to be rid of the uncomfortable transportation, immediately opened the door and descended the steps before the driver or guards were able to help her down. She took a few steps to stretch her legs before looking back to the soldiers who were now scrambling to join her.
“It’s alright,” she waved at the men. “I’m fine.”
Almost immediately, a slave came out of the main entrance and walked toward Maeryn. As soon as she was close enough to recognize the Governess, she bowed her head.
“I’m here to speak with the Commissioner,” Maeryn called out, not wanting to waste any time.
“Yes, my lady,” the woman replied and turned around, walking quickly toward the house.
For a moment, there was complete silence, or as close to it as Maeryn had heard in a long time. Occasionally, a gust of wind would blow through the nearby trees or a bird would chirp, but mostly silence.
“Please stay with the carriage. I won’t be long,” Maeryn told her guards, before heading toward the house.
Before she reached the entrance, a man came out of the house with his arms stretched wide. He wasn’t an old man, though his hair had turned completely white. He was wearing a white linen tunic draped with a white cloak over one shoulder. It was a formal outfit, usually saved for appearances at public meetings. “Governess…why…you must be exhausted. Won’t you please come in out of the sun? Can I get you something to drink perhaps?”
“No thank you,” she replied. “I’m not thirsty. Besides, I’ve been sitting for the last hour. I would however welcome a stroll in your orchard.”
“Certainly,” he said with a smile. “May I join you?”
“Well, I should hope so,” Maeryn said, laughing. “I came to speak with you.”
“Of course. Please come, it is lovely this time of day.”
The two walked in silence until they reached the start of the orchard, a small but elaborate iron gate with vines woven through the decorative bars. The Commissioner led Maeryn through the gate and along the right side of the orchard where the ground was shaded by a row of tall eucalyptus trees. The air smelled sweet and fresh and somewhat eased Maeryn’s anxiety. Still, her growing concern caused her to break the silence.
“I’m sorry to disturb you.”
“Oh, it’s no bother. Your visit could never be a disturbance.”
An awkward silence passed as Maeryn tried to compose her thoughts, but to no avail. She couldn’t seem to start the conversation.
The Commissioner looked at the ground, recognizing Maeryn’s struggle. “Well, I assume you have something important to say, otherwise, your words would not be so carefully chosen?”
“Yes,” Maeryn replied. “I just don’t know how to say it other than to be completely direct. So I guess that is what I will do.”
The Commissioner nodded his head and waited.
“Thaddius, I know who you are.”
“Of course you do,” he said with a smile.
“No. I mean that I know you are the Resistance leader here in Bastul.”
Thaddius stopped walking and turned to look Maeryn straight in the eye. “My lady, I beg your pardon,” he said, the jovial nature now gone from his voice.
Maeryn realized that she had called him out without exposing herself. Suddenly, she knew what she had to say, but it felt awkward to speak it out loud. “I’m your contact on the inside. I’m the one who has been helping the cause.” There, she said it, and there was no way to take it back.
A silent moment passed as Thaddius stared into Maeryn’s eyes. Then, his features softened into a smile. “I’m shocked that it is you…or any woman for that matter. Apparently your instincts are better than mine.”
Maeryn felt instant relief. With Thaddius’ confirmation she suddenly realized why Adair had so little conflict with the Resistance during his rule. Thaddius had been Adair’s social Commissioner, handling the non-military responsibilities of governing Bastul. “How have you been?” she asked. “I haven’t seen you since Adair’s disappearance.”
“Yes, I know. My…responsibilities have been steadily declining since then. It seems that your new husband considers himself an expert in all things. And that includes the social needs of the citizens of Bastul. So, I am no longer needed.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Maeryn replied. “But it makes sense when you consider the increase of Resistance activity since Adair ruled.”
“Do you think it’s obvious?” he asked suddenly.
“Oh no,” Maeryn replied. “Lemus doesn’t know your identity…yet!”
Her last word caused a visible change in Thaddius’ body language. He suddenly looked tense. “What do you mean yet?”
“Well. I guess this brings me to the point of my visit. My main contact was intercepted earlier today. When I left Bastul, they had…”
“Yes, I know,” he interrupted. “If that is what you mean about the threat to my identity, you have nothing to worry about.”
“Thaddius. Forgive me for my rudeness, but I’m not concerned about your identity. I’m worried about my own. Now, you may think that your messengers are well trained to keep things hidden, but you don’t know Lemus. He is the cruelest man I’ve ever known. And now that the key to all his frustrating dealings with the Resistance resides in his jail cell, he will find a way to get the information that he needs.”
“So what do you suggest I do? Have the messenger killed before he can talk?”
Maeryn was immediately repulsed by the idea. Although, she had to admit that it would solve the issue. “Can that really be done?”
“Not at this point. He is too heavily guarded,” Thaddius answered, without a trace of hesitation.
Maeryn thought for a second. “Can the Resistance offer safe passage out of Bastul for me and my daughter?”
Thaddius’ jaw dropped. “But that would undermine everything that we’ve worked for. You are the key to the whole plan.”
“Yes, but the plan can’t succeed if I’m dead, now can it?”
The two stared at each other for a few seconds before Thaddius turned away and continued walking. Maeryn hadn’t realized that they stopped until that moment. As she caught up with the Commissioner, he spoke in a sad tone.
“It won’t be immediate. I’ll need some time to make arrangements.”
“Of course,” Maeryn offered. “Anything you could do would be appreciated.”
“My lady, I’m not going to do this for you. I will do it for the cause. Maybe you can still be of use somewhere else. But understand this,” he said, turning to look her in the eye. “The Resistance will not succeed unless its members are just as willing to give their lives as any Orud soldier would for the Empire. Until we reach that point, we are condemned to struggle.”
Maeryn tried to look back into those fierce eyes, but the man’s conviction made her feel small.
“Go back to your home,” he said. “I’ll send an escort as soon as I can.”
“Thank you,” Maeryn replied, not knowing what else to say.
* * * *
The rain fell softly, but steadily, causing the leaves of the forest to twist and dip with the weight of each droplet. Through the patchy clouds, the rays of the afternoon sun appeared as solid as tree trunks, reaching down to touch the earth. Kael adjusted the hood of his cloak to keep the rain out of his eyes so he could watch the ground, anticipating where his horse would step. This particular terrain, a ridge of crumbling rock that ran down from higher inland areas and ended at the eastern coastline ninety miles north of Bastul, would have been treacherous during normal weather, but the rain complicated matters. It took nearly half an hour to safely descend the path that ended at a smooth shoreline. Once the horse’s hooves touched the wet sand, Kael nudged the animal and it sped to a gallop.
No longer concerned with the ground underfoot, Kael let his thoughts drift. The rain stopped and only the cool, damp air remained, blowing across his bearded face. He loosened the hood of his cloak and immediately the air caught the leather and pulled it away from his head. Without the restraint of a covering, Kael’s blonde hair—now reaching to the middle of his back—fluttered in the wind. He drew in a deep breath as his mind returned to a time past.
The long blades of grass were dancing in the wind, swaying in unison. The air smelled of a sweet fragrance and Kael wasn’t sure whether it was the woman sitting in the grass in front of him, or the purple blossoms on the trees behind her. She had a smile on her face, revealing her perfect white teeth and soft lips. Her skin was smooth and golden colored, in beautiful contrast to her straight black hair, which was also dancing in the wind. Long wisps blew across her face as she tried to tell Kael something funny, but there was no sound. She gracefully reached up and moved her hair out of the way, laughing at the hopelessness of the situation. Kael reached his hand toward her, beckoning her to continue, but she only tilted her head toward his hand.
