Land of Dragon

7

The Gorge



 

 

 

 

 

 

The last remnants of  winter clung  to  the  mountaintops  over  the

narrow river gorge, but down below, on either side of the path, daffodils and large buds sprouted that would soon open into irises and lilies. It was a narrow road that ran along the side of the river. Rime and Felicity were in good spirits again now that Aaron was awake and recovering. They dove and splashed in the shallow waters as the cart wound north between the mountains.

Aaron lay in the footwell of the cart between Treylen and Marziel. He elbowed Treylen then handed him a slate with marks on it. Treylen’s tongue was still swollen from the ritual, but he read the words as best he could. “Lucky, the job ith in Iverna.”

“Is that so?” Marziel glared at Aaron. “You think you're lucky?”

“Easy, Marziel.” The bard, still driving the cart, reached a hand back and clapped him on the shoulder. How he’d rolled into the queen’s stables without an inquisition was anyone's guess, but the stable hands were all singing “Rats of Oxbra’dal” by the time they rolled out again.

“You have certainly ingratiated yourself to the queen. Against all reason, I might add. And managed to offend her court in the process.”

Aaron took the slate from Treylen and scribbled on it with a hunk of chalk.

Treylen read it out as he wrote.

“If queen…was pleased…then…they…should…be…”

“Enough of that.” Marziel ripped the slate from Aaron's hands and stuffed it under his seat. “You know what this means, don't you? Even if it doesn't

become septic, you're still no good to me. What can I do with an assassin who can’t speak?”

“A…pohwa…spboh!” Aaron sat up.

“No, Treylen can speak because he did as I told him to do. You got your rod in the wringer for the Queen of Iverna. I hope you enjoyed the palace, because that's the only place you're fit to serve now.” He pounded his fist on the cart and snapped his head away. “Do you know how hard I had to work not to wind up as one of those lap dogs? Mark my words, when we are finished here your next assignment will be her court. Do you wonder how many crystals are on the ceiling of that chamber? You'll have the chance to count them now. I hope you like standing in place from dawn until dusk.”

“You were one of hith sthudenth?”

“The shadow?” Marziel spat on the road. “Unfortunately.”

“I didn't know…” Treylen said. “I thought only the abbeys had ath-ath… ath-ath-inths… I can’t talk.”

“Give it a rest then. No, If it were only the abbeys we would've lost this war long ago. Far more assassins are trained in the palace then you'll ever find at the abbeys.”

“Why?”

“The abbeys are a dying tradition, left over from the old days. Just like those shrines to the dragon. The queen never sanctioned them. And the shadow, he may be a remnant from the old days as well, but the abbeys lie too far outside of his control. The shadow prefers to keep his trainees in the depths of the palace, unseen…ill prepared, if you ask me, but they are well schooled in deception and in combat. He'd have shut them down long ago if the monks ever gave him reason to, but too many heroes have come out of the abbeys and the monks are nothing if not loyal to their queen.”

“How old ith he?”

“You saw him. The shadow has no human blood in his veins. The other elves of Iverna died off long ago, but not from age…I was told that he served the very first queen of Iverna. Only he would know the truth behind that, and he guards truth carefully.”

“I thought elves kept away.” Treylen watched a hawk wheel overhead. He pictured the quiet riders that he’d met in the forest with Apogee, so different from the dark, gaunt visage of the queen’s shadow.

“Elves are unconcerned with the world. They like to think that they're above it. Even when they were driven out of their homelands, they hardly

seemed to mind. They move about the forest unbothered. The shadow is like them, except he moves through the cities and courts of humans. There were many who took his path in the beginning. But the others have not fared as well as their forest counterparts. They say that he can hide in an empty room and squeeze himself inside a handbasket. And that is why he is the shadow. He can be anywhere at any time. Just like we aspire to be.”

“He didn't talk much about our goal here.” Treylen said, picking words that didn’t hurt his tongue as much.

At least the scenery lifted his spirits. The sun was warm, but the air coming down off the mountains was cool. Birds flitted along the walls of the gorge and tufts of butterflies burst from the tall grasses on the roadside when the dragons leaped into them from the river. Though the edges were overgrown, the path was gravel-lined, and rockslides had been recently pushed away. It had to be well-maintained; these shipments of ore and coal were essential to the war effort.

“Our goal here is simple—find the traitor. But our methods will be threefold…”

“Ours?”

“I’ll be staying as well. Although I wasn't asked to look into it, my experience at your Abbey has got me wondering what sad state the others have been allowed to fall into. While the two of you are in Wetherdin, I will be further up the gorge at Coal Abbey.”

“Whath our plan, then? Walk into town with our darks on?”

“Never that.” Marziel chuckled. Pulling a sack from under his seat, he tugged it open to reveal bright silk garments. There were deep greens, brilliant yellows, and burnt oranges. He plunged his hand inside and came out with what looked more like a deflated pumpkin than a hat anyone would wear.

“Stone Kingdom clothing?”

“We’re bringing back Cren’pin Eelbucket.”

“Cwembom!” Aaron made a pained choking sound that turned into a laugh and rolled on the floor of the cart until tears were in his eyes.

“I’m glad it hurts.” Treylen kicked him. “It’s your fault entirely.”

“We’re keeping the name.” Marziel tossed a shirt at him. “You know it and you respond to it. It’s easier to recycle an alias than devise a new one. You’re still Cren’pin and I’m your uncle Mauridin.”

“Won’t we stand out more than ever?”

“I should hope so. We may be the first Stone Kingdom folks ever seen in Wetherdin. The more the news spreads the less explaining we have to do.”

“That’s because the queen wouldn’t allow them in. Don’t you think it makes no sense?” Marziel ignored him and kept digging in the bag. More and more silks came out. It was clear that he expected this mission to last a long while.

“The queen would allow it if the Stone Kingdom nobles were in her service. I’ve already arranged for a letter to the head families of Wetherdin to notify them that a foreign consultant is being sent up from Queenseat.”

“Consultant on what?”

“Mining, of course. The Stone Kingdom had the best miners in Pentearth. We are fortunate that the Queen in her great wisdom saw fit to take us in as refugees after the kingdom fell to Jaul. And what better way to express our gratitude than share our knowledge of mines and mountains.”

“So Mauridin’s a mine owner now in addition to a merchant?”

“He dabbles in many things. The backstory is the same. Simpler that way. You came up to see your uncle in Tabron. But when the opportunity came to flee to Iverna, we ran for the Harvest Pass and begged for refuge.”

That didn't make much sense to Treylen.

“Why would Mauridin do that? What was wrong with life in Jaul?”

Marziel's face drew grim. “That is the sort of truth that the queen’s shadow would protect. I won't have you saying such things, even as Cren’pin. Understand?”

Treylen nodded, though he didn't agree with it.

“It is my hope that they're incredulity at having to take advice from eccentric foreigners will make it easier for them to forget the possibility that we are her agents. Of course, there is going to be some suspicion that we’re Jaul agents, but better if they suspect that than the truth. It may even work to our advantage in rooting out the traitors.”

“That could work. But I don’t know anything about mining.”

“You’re my apprentice, you aren’t supposed to. And we’re to inspect first. Only after will I give my assessment. They are obligated to take us in and give us unfettered access to the mines and the operations that surround them. Keep your mouth shut, ears open, and enjoy the hospitality.”

“You think I’ll find the answers down in the mine?”

“No, I think that you will find the answers in the nobility.”

“That’s onefold. You thaid it was a threefold approach,” Treylen said,

grabbing a different hat from the sack—green and saucer shaped—and placing it on his head before digging in search of a shirt to match. “What are the other two approaches?”

“The monks are not above suspicion. While Cren’pin is touring the iron mines of Wetherdin, his uncle will go on to Coal Abbey to inspect the mines there.”

“And the third tactic?”

“You’ll go out at night and stalk the shadows. Search the alleys. Listen to the dinnertime chatter, as her agents have always done. Slip into a pub under an alias if you can.”

“I can do that easily.”

“You’ll need to hide your ears,” the bard said, leaning back in the seat. “He’s right,” Marziel added. “When you aren’t playing Cren’pin, they’ll

be a liability.” As they’d been talking, the first signs of the city had come into view—trails of cooking smoke, bridges and banners along the edge of the far mountains.

“Do you think we’re in danger here?”

“Not particularly. We are still in Iverna, though just on the edge of it. Fear of the queen extends even farther than loyalty. But always be on guard. There’s no telling how much influence the traitors have amassed here.”

They rounded a final bend and the city appeared before them. He had been here once before with his father, to inspect a tower that his grandfather had designed. Though he’d known what to expect, it was no less amazing to see it again.

While the valley curved off to the right leading deeper into the mountains, the road turned left and crossed a delicate stone bridge that arched over the pristine river before winding up a progression of sharp bends high up the mountain cliff until it reached the city. There, perched at an impossible angle just below the summit, were scores of buildings, storehouses and silos, each structure blending into the others as if clinging to the mountain were one desperate collective effort.

The cart rolled up and over the bridge. There was no rail to keep them on and Treylen thought that he could see the shapes of river fish as he peered over the edge. Then Rime crashed into the surface and he lost sight of them.

On the other side, the road split in two, one road heading up the mountain and a smaller path continuing eastward toward the Abbey. They began up the first sharp bend and the ox grunted as the road grew steeper. Rime and

Felicity burst out of the water, snapping and tackling one another into the dust of the roadside before shaking off and racing up after them. Rime landed on the back of the ox and stretched his wings out from either side of it to dry, shifting his color to black to warm in the sun. Felicity pressed up against Marziel and lay her head on his lap, looking down at her bondmate who had dozed off again. He was still feverish and had been in and out the whole trip.

“What about Aaron?”

“Bah.” Marziel looked away and watched the water roll under the bridge. “I ought to send him back to run the Abbey and bring Volanti here to work with you.”

“But you won’t.” Treylen didn’t care to let Aaron out of his sight like this.

“I had intended to pass him off as your brother. But he can’t very well question the nobility if he can’t speak.” Marziel reached the bottom of the sack and drew out an armful of brightly colored rags. He balled them up and tossed them onto Aaron. “You’re a peasant refugee from Stone Kingdom, come to help us in the mines.”

“Wha?” Aaron pawed the ratty clothes from his face and sat up, then muttered something unintelligible.

“I’d rather the two of us stick together.” Treylen plucked one of the clothes offAaron and held it up. It was just as brightly dyed as his own but made from a coarser material and full of holes. “He can be a noble; we’ll say he can’t speak because he was struck in the head.”

“They’ll be suspicious enough already. Besides, this way you can cover more ground. While you’re watching your hosts, Aaron will lodge down in the city with the workers and listen for murmurings of discontent.”

“Won’t the workers have just as many questions for him? If anything, they’ll be more brazen about their suspicions. They may even ask to see his tongue.”

“Nonsense. Our people aren’t hunting for assassins. Iverans are trained to look the other way when they suspect the queen’s servants are at work. Besides, we’ll say that he was raised by Lowsater and doesn’t speak common.”

“Lowsater?” Treylen asked incredulously.

“Aaron,” Marziel clapped, “give us your best deep-tongue.” “I don't knowww ow to speak wowsardar.”

“Perfect.”

“He said he doesn’t speak it,” Treylen said.

“Nobody will know the difference.” Marziel waved him off. “It’s a small town. By supper everyone will know you’re Stone Kingdom. And if anyone questions you, moo at them. Can you handle that?”

“Moo.”

“Excellent.” Marziel grinned. “I should’ve cut you boys’ tongues out months ago.”

Aaron grunted out a laugh but Treylen couldn’t see the humor in it. He met Marziel’s eyes. “It won’t get better? Have you looked at it?”

“Of course I’ve looked at it. Aaron, open up.” Aaron opened his mouth and Marziel leaned to peer inside. “It isn’t great. You may learn to speak again, but you’ll never be a master of disguise. Unless you only ever disguise yourself as drunkards.”

“I can do dhad.”

“Thee,” Treylen said. “He’ths getting better already.”

“The both of you should give it a rest. We’ll work on it once you’ve healed. Now get dressed before we arrive. I'm sure they've spotted us already.”

The wagon groaned as they crept higher up the series of sharp bends that ascended the cliff. The bard whistled a working tune to the sound of the ox’s plodding and Marziel talked them through some of the duller points of their plan.

It was a modest town, but so crowded onto the hillside that it functioned more like a small city with districts that became clearer to see as they approached. The ore pits were at the bottom, just below the mine entrance where a steady stream of carts rolled back and forth. Carts carrying ore dumped it here, while those carrying unwanted stone dumped that down the cliffside along with the town’s chamber pots, creating a small avalanche of dross and debris.

Beyond that, the cliff was too steep for the road to continue. It ended at a row of stone stables carved into the mountainside. Beside them, a wide staircase zig-zagged up through the village. Treylen observed its winding path, noting the separations between districts in the city. The first district was all shacks and rubble. These were scrap and work yards. Dust covered everything, and judging from the grimy washing hung from window ledges, there were people who made their home amongst the junk.

This was where Aaron would stay.