Chapter 8

Sybelien had given him the bundle and stood next to the warlord’s table as he lay out the items. The same as she had done, he carefully examined every one of them. Finished with his scrutiny he looked up to her face.

“Are you certain these are the strange items I ordered you to find?” He asked. “It looks like junk to me. Although the sapphire could be valuable if it’s real.”

Sybelien looked him in the eyes. “I am certain, Jorsha,” she answered. “These items aren’t just strange, they are dangerous. It’s dangerous to get involved in this at all. I fear you’ve bitten more off than you can chew when you accepted this task. I know I did.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Explain,” he ordered. “Why are you so certain these are the right items? And why is it dangerous?”

Sybelien wearily sighed. “I’d rather not explain anything of it but I will because you asked me to. I know you don’t trust me enough to accept my word instead of an explanation. But I warn you, don’t get any deeper involved in it,” she pleaded.

His facial expression turned sour. “I am your Warlord and I decide for myself whether or not to get involved in something,” he countered.

“The items on your table belong to a young man and Evanis Danjala decided the young man belongs to her,” Sybelien told him, expressively calm. “She may decide since the boy belongs to her, these items are hers as well. You know Evanis Danjala; she was dangerous when she was a little girl but she is no little girl anymore. Today she is known as the most lethal mercenary of all the lands along the Ewu. I’m also certain Inandrey Danjala won’t be too pleased to know I stole the items while the young man was a guest of the Banyan Dream. I am certain you’ll agree, the Queen of Whores is dangerous, too. Now I’ll tell you about a different angle of danger. A young woman accompanies the young man. To say she is very fond of him would be a huge understatement. The young woman is the Princess of Danuba. The Alorian priesthood had chosen her to become a priestess and the next Alorian Empress. For King Mandorak of Isostres, that’s the reason he wants her dead. But Princess Rhaseris chose a third option. She became the priestess of the young man instead of the Alorian gods. Do you really want to get involved in this insanity? All you have to do is use the information I just gave you. Have you heard enough?”

Jorsha looked at her, hard. “I noticed you didn’t tell me much about this mysterious young man. Is he dangerous, too?” He asked.

The small woman angrily glared at her warlord. “I told you all I know about him. Evanis wants to own him, the Princess worships him and he carried the items the royal family of Ibanee tasked you to obtain for them. To ask me if he is dangerous is the height of stupidity,” Sybelien hissed in response. “Of course he is!” She screamed in his face.

Jorsha quickly raised his hands, palms outward, placating the irate woman. “Easy, Sybil, it was a simple question. No reason to rip my head off.” He laughed. “Yes, you told me enough. And you also don’t need to tell me what else you are hiding from me because I do trust you. You’re the only one I trust.”

Sybelien deeply exhaled. “Sorry, Jorsha, but It wasn’t easy for me to steal these things. It felt like I betrayed my friends to get them for you – maybe I did. And for what; a bag of gold?”

A gentle smile played about his lips as he answered her. “I want you to come with me to the meeting with the Ibanees. I’m certain they will have questions I cannot answer but you can. So let’s go and you’ll see what our reward will be.”

Sybelien nodded and together they set off, accompanied by a horde of happy and excitedly babbling children. All of them armed.

Jabbit awoke and as he picked up his clothes he noticed his bundle was missing. He washed in a small adjacent chamber, equipped with several towels, a large bowl and a bucket full of water. Returning to the bedroom, he cast a look at the still sleeping Princess before he left the Banyan Dream, slipping through the slightly open window.

An hour later Rhaseris was rudely roused by a loudly shouted question.

“Where is Jabbit?”

She tried to focus her bleary-eyed gaze to look at the vociferous person standing by the open door. The person left and the door to her room slammed shut before Rhaseris succeeded in identifying the intruder. She sighed and fell asleep again.

Sometime later the Princess woke up again and looked around the room. The door to her room opened and Anseyla Danjala walked in.

Now it was Rhaseris who asked, “Where is Jabbit?”

Their child escort stayed behind at the border of the war harbor as the Warlord and Sybelien approached the war galley. Two Ibanee guards led them up a plank to the deck and then into a cabin at the stern of the ship. Inside the cabin, the var Dosha family members sat behind a large table waiting for them.

Luwani regarded Jorsha and Sybelien with a single glance then turned to her son. “These are the people you appointed to search for the relics; a ragman and a little girl?” She asked.

“Yes, mother,” Agon replied, rolling his eyes. “The Ragman, as you called him, is Jorsha Sammon, known in Katerra as the ‘Moppet’s Warlord’. He is a member of the Midnight Council. He told me he would choose the best for this job, so I guess the little girl is the best.”

Her daughter rose from the seat to the left of Luwani.

“I have to apologize for my mother and brother,” she said and smiled as she approached Jorsha Sammon. “My mother tends to evaluate clothes instead of the person who wears them; and my brother errs, believing it’s more important to placate my mother than it is to greet our guests. I am Anjatta var Dosha, the daughter, and sister, respectively, of those two ill-mannered embarrassments.”

Anjatta offered her hand in greeting and the Warlord took it, bowed and kissed the back of her hand. “It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Princess Anjatta,” he said. “Please let me introduce my companion, Sybil Ghyssa, my most trusted friend and adviser.”

Anjatta turned to Sybelien and looked her in the eye before she deeply bowed. “It’s an honor to meet you, Princess Sybil.”

“That’s enough of your foolishness!” Her mother upbraided. “We are here to conclude a business deal. Let’s get to it. I want to see the relics. If they are what he promised it would be, then the mighty warlord and his trusted adviser will get their payment and can leave us - the faster the better.”

Jorsha nodded, stepped to the table and set the cloth-bundle in front of Luwani var Dosha. Anjatta returned to her chair and all three Ibanee Royals expectantly watched the small bundle. Luwani carefully loosened the knot in the cloth and spread it out. Each of the var Doshas immediately picked one of the three items laid out to them. Agon chuckled as he turned the shiny-white seashell between his fingers. His mother stared at the rag doll she held in her hands, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Anjatta lifted the little sapphire with her fingertips to her eyes and looked through the clear blue crystal at Sybelien’s face.

Luwani glared at the Warlord. “Is this a stupid joke?” She asked, clearly enraged. “This garbage is no relics! The rag doll is no more than a couple of years old, a decade at most.”

Agon interrupted his chuckling. “This entire endeavor was a joke from the very start of it,” he said sneering at his mother. “You got exactly what you deserved, some very costly junk.”

Anjatta lay down the sapphire and looked at Sybelien without it. “One item is missing, do you know what it is?” She asked.

“Yes,” Sybelien calmly answered. “It’s a copper coin, and someone I know took it before I could.”

Anjatta nodded, accepting her statement. “I assume you stole this from someone. Who is he?”

Sybelien lowered her gaze to the ground. “A young man; an Alorian. But I think he’s from the west ... the far west.”

Luwani and her brother gaped at Anjatta. “Do you seriously believe these are the genuine relics we are searching for?” Her mother asked.

Anjatta shook her head and sighed. “I don’t believe, I see two of the items you are searching for - the seashell and the rag doll,” she answered. “She knows who took the first item and I know who took the fourth.”

“We have to find the missing two!” Luwani announced, her anger replaced by excitement.

“There is no need to search for them,” Anjatta replied. “They will find us - all of them will.”

She went to the row of stained glass windows at the back of the cabin. Anjatta opened one and looked outside. The others could hear some angry shouting outside as she opened the window.

Evanis rushed out of the Banyan Dream as soon as she had found out that Jabbit was missing. She dragged a sleepy and annoyed grumbling Kuwasi with her.

“How do you know the boy went into the town,” Kuwasi asked. “Maybe he visited one of your mother’s strumpets last night and is still sleeping in her room. Not a one of them looked like they would send him away if he knocked on their door in the night,” he added grinning at Evanis.

“I know it because I know it,” Evanis hissed in response. “And now shut your trap. It’s a very bad idea trying to goad me this morning.”

“It’s always a bad idea to kindle your temper but it’s fun nonetheless,” Kuwasi replied grinning even brighter, sleepiness and annoyance all forgotten. “How do you suggest we’ll find him among the hundreds of thousands of people in Katerra?”

Evanis abruptly stopped and rubbed her face with the palm of her hand; then took the coin pouch off her belt and peered inside. She picked a certain copper coin, clasped it tightly in her fist and closed her eyes.

“He’s eastwards from us, probably somewhere at the harbor,” she said when she opened her eyes again.

“The ‘Storm’s Bride’ is at the harbor,” Kuwasi reminded her.

“I know,” Evanis said. “Go back to the Banyan Dream and watch out for my mother and sister until I return.”

“Promise me you’ll let the boy live when you find him,” Kuwasi demanded with a toothy grin.

Evanis deeply inhaled, held her breath a moment and then slowly exhaled before she answered.

“Kuwasi, you are my friend, maybe the only friend I have who isn’t family. So I will tell you the truth. I cannot kill the boy; if I could kill him, I would have done it already. You probably believe I have a crush on him; my sister believes it’s lust. Maybe you are both right and maybe it’s even more. There is only one thing I know for sure; I’m cheaper than the cheapest of my mother’s whores. I became the boy’s sellsword for the lofty price of a copper coin. Not only can’t I kill him, but I will kill for him.”