Chapter 21: Future Impetuous T’vaar was on his feet, pale blue eyes scanning the room as he crouched, ready to strike. Several other members also stood, hands up and poised to cast a spell, or ready to draw weapons -- or both. “I heard nothing.” Yael said then pursed her lips. “But I did feel something, now that you mention it.” Kirin closed his eyes and did an active Presence search of the room. “There is no one else here… though I sense something…” He cast a Past Vision and a Perceive Power and detected residual magic. “I know I heard and felt something, a displacement of air.” Sri-chi-a-kaa insisted, his wings still shifting nervously. Ren Thraysk, meanwhile, took a hesitant step backwards. It was breathtaking to see the Council transform from quibbling bureaucrats to a group of deadly-powerful warriors and Essænce wielders. Kirin’s eyes opened. “Everyone please return to your seats. I believe we did have a visitor, but he is gone now. While there is reason for concern, I don’t think we need to be alarmed.” The rest of the Council settled into their chairs, though T’vaar’s gaze still darted about the room warily. “Was it Andraax?” The Changramai Master inquired softly. “I believe so.” Kirin nodded. “Curious that he would spy on us in this way and not reveal himself. Curious and disturbing.” “So he is alive.” Pukul-bo said breathlessly, his translucent inner eyelids reflexively coming down over his emerald-bright eyes. For a mortal such as him, Andraax was beyond legend. Of course he didn’t know how far back Andraax’s history really went. No one knew -- though Kirin had long suspected -- that Andraax was in fact a K’ta’viir. Only Tethior the Smith knew the Essænce Lord’s secret. “Rumors of Andraax’s eccentric behavior were well-known,” Enistor snorted. “You yourself Kirin just said that he was ‘erratic.’ That he would spy on us hardly seems surprising. Perhaps he thinks this is some kind of game.” “He is gone now, at any rate. I do not think that he is a danger to us, though it might be prudent to take additional security precautions.” Kirin nodded to T’vaar. “Let us proceed with the business at hand. Loremaster Thraysk, what of Randae Terisonen? I understand he has left you in charge of affairs in Rhakhaan while he pursues his personal quest in Sel-kai?” Ren cleared his throat. “He is indeed in Sel-kai City, investigating several leads, some related to the Crowns. Several Rhakhaan nobles have relocated in Sel-kai -- presumably to escape the war -- and he has detected some peculiarities he thought worth pursuing.” “Not chasing the Soulsword legends again, is he?” Megathstor rolled his eyes. Ren raised his eyebrows. “May I remind the esteemed Councilman that most people in Jaiman consider the Crowns and their powers to be mere legend.” “We, however, are not illiterate sheepherders, Loremaster Thraysk.” Megathstor snapped back. This condescending remark brought expressions of consternation from several other Council members. T’vaar stopped twirling his chain and looked annoyed. Enistor seemed to be struggling to maintain a neutral countenance. Kirin showed no expression. “To answer your question, Councilman,” Ren resumed, “Randae is keeping watch over the Rhakhaan nobles while simultaneously pursuing several other threads of interest, including rumors of the Soulsword and one of the Jaimani Artifacts.” “Which Jaimani artifact?” Enistor asked with a calculated evenness that Ren found almost laughable. “I’m not certain,” Ren hedged and sipped his coffee -- which was now almost too cold to drink -- to cover a smirk. “But I believe it is one of the pendants.” “Very well, Loremaster Thraysk, I believe that is all.” Kirin sat back in his chair. “Safe journey back to Haalkitaine. We will contact Randae Terisonen ourselves regarding his recent behavior.” I travel all this way just to tell them I don’t know anything, Ren seethed quietly to himself. At least the trip wasn’t a total waste of time; that phantom visit by Andraax and seeing them jump like a bunch of nervous Apprentices was worth the journey all by itself. ‘Scared Apprentices’ who could rule the world in they chose, Ren corrected himself. If Andraax got them that stirred up, then he must really be someone to fear. Journal of Kalen Avanir TE 6050, Orhan 5, Afternoon of Day 70 (Eve of the Winter Solstice/New Year) The Barge Inn, Canal of the Waiting Waters Sel-Kai City While I’ve all along been less than excited about joining in the New Years Eve revelries here in Sel-kai, Jad has gone from eager before we arrived, to hesitant, to downright against the whole idea. I know I can’t blame him too much: after our frightening encounter with the Red Dragons he has become concerned about my safety, his responsibility for which he takes very seriously. Even shopping has failed to lift his spirits, though the weather has hardly been cooperative. After the one relatively pleasant day that we arrived it has been an almost nonstop cold drizzle and heavy dark clouds. When we can see Eidolon it is like a faint glimmering light amongst the grey. I have been spending some time at the Library, and Jad dutifully accompanies me, but I can tell he is bored. While he is undeniably bright, my cousin lacks the patience to sit still for long periods of time and read. To make himself useful, he has been my runner, tracking down volumes of interest. Unfortunately, I have been unable to learn very much about this pendant from the resources of the Sel-kai Library. I have found a few Jaiman histories that mention it, but little more; of these artifacts by far the most attention has been lavished on the Crowns. The one tale that I have uncovered is the story of Queen Ajkara III, who took the pendant with her (apparently she was a spell-caster herself) when she abdicated in TEI 5121 rather than surrender most of her royal power to the ambitious clerics and mages who had been gaining influence. (Her nephew Badar succeeded her, but was little more than a puppet.) Ajkara, meanwhile, vanished from history, and the pendant was (apparently) lost. I also found a reference to the Phoenix Sword, which was supposedly kept in a vault beneath Haalkitaine, somewhere in the catacombs. Hopefully this person who Hiiri is arranging for us to meet will be able to shed some light on the true nature of the item. Tad brought us a message today instructing us to return to T’revor’s Tankard on the morning of the fourth. I wonder why he is making us wait so long? It’s all very mysterious, and the delay is, frankly, vexing. I have also learned from Bryon and his friends that -- to my dismay -- this barge trip could be more like a shifting pit of Urgul-snappers than a moving garden party: Sel-kai is at least as rife with political turmoil as Haalkitaine, and events like this are sometimes disrupted by flare-ups between the merchant houses, especially among the younger family members. Apparently the freely-flowing spirits and the frequent shuttling between barges during the evening’s festivities often leads to passionate outbursts. Interestingly, the invitation cards said specifically ‘no weapons of any kind -- including ceremonial daggers -- will be allowed on the barges.’ I think that we will remain on the Prince’s Barge and try to avoid any such inter-house entanglements. Surely there we will be buffered from such outbursts. It had rained most of the morning of New Year’s Eve, but by afternoon the cold drizzle had stopped, and the clouds were breaking up before a brisk wind. Kalen, Jad, Taluk and Bertram made their way to the Great Circle (the quay that ringed a large artificial lagoon in the center of the city), which was where they were to board the barges. The invitations said the boats would cast off soon after the sound of the Evening Quintar bell, so they arrived nearly an hour before, while the sun was still just above the horizon. But as they approached the Circle, it became apparent that the party had started long ago. Not only was the Circle crowded with revelers, but it looked like many guests had been on board the docked boats for some time already. Music and voices melded together into a cacophony of sound echoing across the marble. The rows of little peddler stalls and tents that usually clogged the Circle around the 700-foot diameter harbor had been cleared away, and the newly revealed paved open space was lined with scores of banners. A number of small food-carts (which were normally scattered all over the city) were concentrated here, and these were well attended by common-folk who had apparently come just to see the spectacle of the Merchant-barons, their yachts, and their families. There were at least several hundred people milling about the Circle, talking, eating, drinking, and enjoying performances by wandering troubadours and jugglers. Waxed-paper lamps on poles were also being set up and lit as the sky darkened with evening. Pennants along the waters’ edge identified the various barges moored there: house symbols on them matched those on their invitations. The barges were docked at fairly regular intervals around the Circle, interspersed with dozens of smaller craft, some of which were moving amongst the barges like bees servicing their queens. The barges themselves were something to see. The Rhakhaanians had spotted a few larger boats cruising along the Great Canal since they had arrived, but these watercraft were of another order. All -- there were about a dozen -- were at least seventy or eighty feet long and a few looked to be twice that; it occurred to Kalen that the latter probably could not even maneuver in any but the largest canals. They all appeared to have flat bottoms and most had blunt prows, some even had more than one deck. All were at least partly covered by brightly colored canopies, and they were lined with festive lanterns. Every craft seemed already filled to overflowing with revelers, and more were trickling on board all the time. “We better get going before all the good wine is gone!” Jad exclaimed, apparently getting caught up in the celebratory atmosphere. “There’s our boat, Vorhese, over to the left.” Taluk pointed to one of the larger -- if not as gaudily decorated as some -- barges. “I’m betting that one is the Prince’s” Jad nodded towards what was easily the biggest ship in the harbor; it also sported the most lamps and countless bright pennants. “Have a good time, gentlemen, but not too good of one.” Kalen admonished the two young men. “And we’ll see you tomorrow morning at the Inn.” “We’ll try not to do anything to embarrass House Prevan.” Bertram winked. “I’m betting Jad will be able to handle that himself.” The Squire shot Bertram a withering glare. “I hope to you don’t get seasick.” He retorted with a little curl of his lip. Bertram winced. “You had to bring that up, didn’t you?” “That wasn’t very nice to taunt Bertram about his sickness.” Kalen admonished Jad once they were away from the other two young men. “You know how embarrassed about it he is.” “I know; it just sort of slipped out.” Jad banged his new clog against the flagstone with unnecessary force. “But it’s disrespectful of him to imply that I would do something to embarrass our -- your -- house. You know I’d never do that.” “I recall a few times we have both had too much to drink…” Kalen smiled ruefully, “But no, I don’t remember you ever doing anything outrageous. I think Bertram is a little envious of your position in Leathes House -- not that he has any right to be!” Kalen added quickly when his cousin shot him an angry look. “But you know we are not as formal as most similar relationships, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m just asking that you forgive him for being insecure. He and Taluk are here to help protect both of us after all, and any suggestion that he is failing in his duty is an unkind cut.” “I’m just a distaff relation, Kalen. They are not here to help protect me. They are here because your father does not believe that that I alone can protect you.” Jad’s voice was tight with wounded pride, and maybe something else. They were both diverted from that uncomfortable moment by a strange thwop-thwop-thwop sound coming from somewhere above. The cousins turned, noticing as they did that everyone around them was also looking for the source of the sound, some of them pointing. There in the sky was a dark ovoid, moving slowly towards them. They had seen skyships before; such even came to Haalkitaine a few times a month carrying wealthy passengers and precious cargo. While the airborne craft were not that common at the Sel-kai piers, they buzzed around Eidolon City like bees about their nest. (Apparently it was far easier for them to dock at the airborne port than in the water.) However, the skyships were still of a somewhat familiar sailing-ship configuration, even though it was bizarre to see them drift through the air like huge birds. The airbarges of Námar-Tol were another thing entirely. Their bodies like huge fat metallic sausages, they hung in the air looking quite heavy and unnatural. Almost as strange were the scaffoldings around them supporting the spinning fans that apparently helped the thing maneuver. The main body of the thing, for all its size, was just a rigid, reinforced bag filled with some kind of gas that held it in the air. The passengers and cargo of the airbarge were in a box slung under the ovoid bag. The airbarges could carry much more cargo than a skyship, and it was immune to the vagaries of the wind (though a Navigator aboard a skyship would take care of the latter for you, if you were willing to pay). As this thing grew larger in the sky, Kalen found disturbing in two ways: one visceral and one intellectual. The visceral was that it just seemed wrong for something that seemed so massive to hang in the air like it did. The intellectual was harder to pinpoint. The thing was powered by some sort of machines… engines. The whole idea of ‘technology’ was a little foreign to the Marquess, who found a mechanical clock to be amazingly complex. It was intriguing, but intimidating that something like this could even be built. He still didn’t fully understand how such things worked, though he had studied some books on it here in Sel-kai. Airbarges had a furnace in them with a boiler that made steam that in turn somehow made the big fans spin. In a way it seemed like magic, but this required no spells. The Loari of Námar-Tol were masters of this technology, and it made a lot of people nervous. Some even said that the Lords of Orhan would not approve of such machines, because it meant that the Elves were aspiring to be like the ancient Essænce Lords. And every educated man knows that the Essænce Lords destroyed themselves with their technology. But the Loari laugh at what they call ‘superstition’ and insist that this is nothing like what the Lords had, and that progress is inevitable and desirable. The Loari even hint that the Lords are no more than legend. As the monstrous thing drew closer and louder and impossibly huge, Kalen just found it frightening. He jumped when he suddenly felt Jad’s hand close tightly on his arm. Smoke and steam came belching out from it, and the noise from the monstrous fans was deafening. The fans created a great wind that made the torches gutter and the banners flutter frantically. Papers and other debris scattered across the clearing. Finally the airbarge hovered almost above them, this massive bloated shape casting a shadow over the pavement. A number of men in livery spread out to clear an area of the Circle, and some of them jumped to grasp lines that were dangling from the barge. “It all seems kind of clumsy compared to a skyship. Don’t you think?” Jad had to shout in Kalen’s ear over the noise. The Marquess of Endar nodded his agreement. It was loud and dirty and inelegant, all things he would not normally associate with the Elves. The huge vehicle settled to the ground, the fans slowing their rotation. The men holding the ropes affixed them to stanchions then approached the long, windowed cabin under the looming shadow of the air-filled ovoid above. They formed an honor-guard as the cabin door opened and a procession of elaborately garbed men and women emerged. All were Loari Elves by their clothes alone, but Kalen could also just make out their faces -- and ears -- from where they stood. “Quite a way to make an entrance.” Jad commented, a little sarcastically. Kalen noted that many in the crowd observing this arrival were also muttering in less than complimentary tones. He reflexively touched his ear-tip. It seemed that the Loari of Námar-Tol were not well-loved in Sel-kai, and he wondered if this extended to all Elves, or even those of mixed blood. The entourage from the air ship was escorted to a barge near the front of the line. The vast flying machine’s ropes were released and it surged up again into the sky. Kalen had to admit that it was an awe-inspiring sight. What resources, what powers of engineering and science it must have taken to build such a thing. Magic was arcane, but once known, it happened on command; one never fully understood how it worked. Xenium-metal lifted a skyship in the air. To create things like an airbarge, one had to engineer them from the parts up. Such an effort seemed impossibly daunting to Kalen. They stood and watched for a long time as the thing moved away to the west. The cousins made their way through the throng to the largest river barge: it was indeed the Prince’s Boat. Pages at the foot of the gangplank greeted them and examined their invitations before waving them onto the ship. At the top of the ramp were two more pages, older than the youths below. One held a tall, ornate staff with many ribbons dangling from the shining silver head. The other page bowed and took their invitations. The page with the staff rapped it three times on the deck and the other read out in a booming voice: “ Presenting Lord Kalen Kyrethan Irellion Avanir, Marquess of Endar,’ and Squire Jad Hurok, guests of the Prince from the Kingdom of Rhakhaan.” Several people turned to look appraisingly at the new arrivals as Jad and Kalen bowed, uncomfortable under this sudden scrutiny. Fortunately most smiled tightly and turned away to resume their conversations. Kalen scanned the crowd, feeling more awkward than ever in his recently purchased, Sel-kai fashion clothes. Party attire was more casual and yet flamboyant than the current style at Haalkitaine Court. They used more brightly colored silks and cottons here. Of course the climate had something to do with it: the average temperature here being quite a bit warmer than the Rhakhaan capital, there would be less use of heavy fabrics like wool or velvet. Most of the younger men wore lightweight silk shirts in a primary color, with a few ruffles at the cuffs and neck, with a snug-fitting vest and calf-length breeches of dark velvet or cotton. Most wore their hair short, but there seemed to be a fashion of painting a streak of it a bright color on one side, and many had apparently put something in their hair to make it spike up from the scalp. The hairstyle reminded Kalen a little of the strange Dúranaki of Tanara who he saw sometimes in Haalkitaine. Older gentlemen wore similar attire, though their breeches were longer, vests elaborately embroidered and less snug, and where the young men had their shirt open (sometimes almost halfway to the waist!) the older men kept it buttoned up, with a contrasting-colored scarf or cravat tied elaborately at the neck. Older men also seemed to be less inclined to the elaborate hairstyle; many wore small cylindrical hats. All the men wore some variation of what Kalen had recently learned was a ‘clog;’ a shoe with a leather top and elevated wooden bottom. Apparently this was functional because it kept their feet out of the inevitable puddles that scattered the Sel-kai streets -- and the bilge often found in the bottom of skiffs. Kalen was still getting used to his clogs, feeling like they would fly off with every step; Jad seemed to have adapted fairly well already to his. (‘You have to scrunch up your toes a little,’ was his cousin’s only advice.) His and Jad’s shirts were mostly buttoned up, and even as Kalen debated whether to undo one or two, he caught Jad trying to surreptitiously do just that. Women young and old wore ankle-length gowns, also of brightly colored silk. Most had some variation of a sort of corset worn on the outside, embroidered with metallic thread. The dress was low-cut in front, exposing the entire upper portion of the bosom. The result, in combination with the upward push of the corset, created quite an effect. (Older or more modest women wore a translucent scarf across the chest.) But still: it was the beginning of winter, and there was a damp, chilly breeze coming off the water. Some of the older women wore shawls, and the men short cloaks, and the Marquess did notice a few braziers set about the deck to warm things up, but he thought everyone was a bit underdressed… in more ways than one. There seemed to be a rather ostentatious show of jewelry as well, by both men and women: rings, earrings, necklaces and bracelets. Most bore gems of every color, which glittered in the flickering candle and torchlight. It occurred to Kalen that, as a more mercantile-based society, he shouldn’t be surprised at a more obvious display of wealth. In Haalkitaine Court, wealth was all about land and title and lineage. Here, gold could buy you just about anything deemed of value. A promenade ran the entire perimeter of the barge, with the central forward area enclosed by cabins, and much of the aft open deck. Unlike all but a couple of other barges, this one also had an upper deck, covering the entire front half of the barge, even overhanging the promenade. Twin stairways led up to this upper deck, while on the main deck doors were open, allowing a view down a paneled corridor and a grand salon at the front of the boat. This craft was as much a ship as a barge. Tonight, brightly dyed canvas awnings covered parts of the aft area. Chairs and small tables were scattered around the rear deck, most of them occupied. Several dozen other people stood in the center under the sky, and uniformed servants carrying trays of drinks and delicacies moved among them. The cousins were barely on board before they were offered a pale yellow beverage by a page carrying a tray of crystal flutes. “Gentlemen, would you care for a glass of Danarchis chardonnay? It is from the famed Yutani vineyards. Both accepted and Kalen took a sip. “Delicious, very dry.” “Tasty, but I’m starving!” Jad patted his flat stomach. “Let’s see what there is to eat.” “And I’d like to get out of the spotlight,” Kalen noticed that there were still quite a few people glancing at them and whispering to each other. They headed towards the perimeter of the ship, where narrow tables held trays of delicacies. They had barely gotten there and tasted the first herbed-cheese on a cracker when a conservatively dressed Loar Elf approached them. “Welcome to Sel-kai, Lord Endar, and Squire Hurok. I am Enik Foor, Minister of State.” He bowed slightly and extended his hand. “A pleasure to meet you, Minister, this is indeed an impressive city.” Kalen smiled, though the thought suddenly foremost in his mind was the encounter with the Red Dragons and how unsafe he felt in this city. “I hope you enjoy your stay, and that things work out for the best in Rhakhaan. This business with Frelik is… unfortunate. I know that the Prince would extend every hospitality possible during this difficult time. He considers himself a friend and ally to the Emperor.” “Thank you, that is reassuring to know.” Kalen answered blandly. There was something… odd… about Foor, but he could not put his finger on exactly what. “The weather seems to be cooperating, so we should have clear skies for the festivities tonight. I must take my leave, but if there is anything you need during your stay, please do not hesitate to contact my office on the Prince’s Isle.” “I appreciate that.” Kalen nodded. “Yes, thank you.” Jad said tersely. He apparently didn’t care for Enik Foor. A few others introduced themselves, mostly beaurocrats and middle-generations of smaller merchant families as far as Kalen could tell. It was beginning to look like a dreary evening ahead. “My dear friends Jad and Kalen!” A voice rose above the clutter of others, and Kalen turned to see none other than the Viscount Ridgeston. He had a glass of wine in one hand his other arm around young man about the same age, and they seemed to be partially supporting each other as they both half stumbled towards the cousins. “Damn clogs.” Lukas grumbled, trying to get his footing. Kalen noted with little surprise that the Viscount wore his shirt almost completely open, and that he had apparently already had a few glasses of wine. “Gentlemen!” Lukas raised his glass so suddenly that the expensive beverage threatened to slosh out. “Let me introduce you to Lord Caillin, the Prince of Sel-kai’s younger -- and if I may say so, much more friendly -- son.” Caillin smiled crookedly as he shook their hands. “The Duke send you down here to stay out of trouble, like Ridgeston here?” He asked bluntly. “Out of trouble and out of the way in my case.” Lukas interjected, then burped out of the corner of his mouth. “Pardon me.” He grinned. Damn him, he’s even charming when he’s drunk and crude. Kalen thought to himself. “Prevan is right on the northern front, and I suppose that as my father’s only heir, he thought it was important that I be far away from the action. I’m not much of a warrior, so I wouldn’t be much use anyway.” “And you, Jad? Are you Kalen’s personal guard?” “I’m his squire, his guard, and his cousin.” The Squire retorted. “Indeed.” Caillin looked them over appraisingly. “I do see a resemblance, now that you mention it, aside from the obvious shared Elven blood.” Though it seemed to Kalen that a funny little smirk worked at the corner of the young Lord’s mouth. “I envy you, to have Elven ancestors, not only will you keep your youth longer than me, I think the ears are quite attractive.” Lukas said with an almost comical pout. Kalen noticed then that Caillin as well had very slightly pointed ears. He had thought the Lord had a certain delicate handsomeness about him, and the ears confirmed that his masculine beauty came from Elven ancestry. He knew that the Prince of Sel-kai was part-elven, but not the extent of his immortal ancestry. “Being a mixed-breed isn’t all it’s cracked up to be,” Caillin scowled. “Especially in this city, where alliances often depend on what house you belong to. Lineage may not be as important here as it is up in Rhakhaan, but family matters here, and so does race. I’m afraid that relations between the Loari and the Laan houses have deteriorated over the last few years especially. There is a growing resentment of the Elven Houses. My father is very concerned about it.” Then his expression suddenly brightened. “Well, Kalen and Jad, enjoy the food and drink. When the sun goes down the real fun begins.” “What sort of fun?” Jad couldn’t resist asking. Kalen noticed Lukas watching a young woman walking by them, a kind of vacant smile on his face. “After we get underway, people start moving from barge to barge, usually via little skips or skiffs, but the more adventurous start ‘barge-hopping’ -- leaping directly from one to another when they pass close to each other. It’s strictly forbidden because it’s so dangerous. That only incites the younger men, I think. Some get a little too much alcohol in them…. Oh, and at midnight there are fireworks… for those who are still conscious.” Caillin smirked Lukas’ attention snapped back. “Fireworks of more than one kind, I’ve heard.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Kalen kept silent; he was interested to see if Caillin would reveal more details about the possibility of trouble Caillin shrugged. “There has been some rash behavior in the past. As I said there is a lot of friction between the Houses. With the elders it’s mostly kept civil on the surface at least, but the younger generations always seems to want to be more… direct. I’m sure that it won’t be more than the usual sniping and name-calling. I really doubt there will be a brawl like last year. That was messy.” “What do you mean, ‘messy’?” “Well, Andreas Baragon had a pretty nasty stab wound, because he foolishly tried to intervene in an altercation between Kyse Pharnese and the Alaxatan brothers -- that’s an old rivalry. A few others had some cuts and bruises in various other encounters, and Bren Elgata broke a couple of fingers when he punched Deg Tharal for insulting his aunt. Oh, and Kemalis Jurgon got a cut on the scalp in an ‘argument’ with the visiting daughter of House Xanaari, I think her name was Saren -- scary Elf girl, she was -- that bled a whole lot and several of the girls fainted, but it wasn’t really serious. Oh and Terrin Maledaar fell in the Great Canal and accidentally swallowed some water and got a bad intestinal infection -- though he’s lucky he missed the props from the Elgata yacht. Oh, I assume you were told not to even touch the canal water?” “I didn’t know it was that dangerous.” Jad said seriously, while Kalen silently wondered that ‘the props’ were. Some creature living in the canals? Caillin laughed. “Well touching it won’t kill you if you wash your hands with soap right away, but the Healers say it’s full of tiny bugs that can cause infections that will make you very sick. Something about because we dump our garbage in the canals, I don’t know. Anyway, stay out of the soup, and absolutely don’t drink the canal-water -- it has been known to kill people who just took an accidental gulp after falling in. Stick to wine!” The son of the ruler of Sel-kai added with a laugh. “Sounds like good advice to me!” Jad grinned, and grabbed two glasses off a tray carried by a waiter who happened to be opportunely passing by. “We’ll be sure not to go swimming in the canals, though that would be difficult for my cousin, as he has never really learned to swim!” “Do they fight like that a lot?” Kalen wanted to change the subject. And he was still trying to sort out all the names, while his mind pictured these violent encounters all-too-graphically. “No, that many incidents is really unusual, but to be honest, hardly a major festival or games event passes without some kind of altercation -- usually between Houses Pharnese and Alaxatan. That feud goes back a long way. It’s all just hotheadedness, though; no one’s been killed in decades, and I don’t think there’s been an actual assassination in fifty years.” “That’s reassuring.” Lukas said sarcastically. “I guess things are a little wilder in the south. “We may have fights among the young members of the Merchant Houses, but we’re not in the middle of a civil war.” Caillin snapped defensively, then immediately became contrite. “I apologize; that was uncalled-for.” “We all have our problems.” Lukas muttered, looking distracted. It seemed to Kalen that he held on to the Prince’s son a little more tightly. Caillin seemed not to notice, but his expression brightened. “Well, no offense intended my Lords.” He nodded to Jad and Kalen. “None taken.” The Squire said gravely; he could read a dismissal as well as anyone. “It was a pleasure to meet you.” Caillin turned to the Viscount Ridgeston. “Come on, Lukas, I want you to meet the Baragon sisters. I’m sure they’ll find you quite entertaining.” “Indeed! I only wish I could live up to the high expectations you put on me…” After the other young men had wandered off, the cousins went back to the food tables. Kalen tried a tiny cracker with an orange and white shrimp tail on top of it. He had only had shrimp once before. It had a pleasant-enough taste; not fishy at least. Growing up on an inland estate in Rhakhaan, he was used to beef, poultry and sometimes mutton, but did not have fish all that often -- and that was freshwater fare from the nearby lake. Here it was fish, fish and more fish, and he was already tiring of it. Apparently Jad had a similar feeling. “Give me rare roast beef over these bits of sea-food on crackers any day!” He exclaimed, wrinkling his nose after swallowing a bit similar to Kalen’s. “Jad… what do you think of Ridgeston?” Kalen asked hesitantly. “How do you mean?” The squire answered around a mouthful of sandwich, his eyebrows raised. “Do you think… he has an excess of charm?” At that, Jad clamped his mouth shut as if to prevent himself from spitting his food out. He made a big show of swallowing before he finally answered; in the meantime Kalen had taken two nervous gulps of wine. “You slay me, cousin! I suppose that’s one way of putting it. His personality is a little overwhelming sometimes, though it really doesn’t seem like he’s doing it on purpose. It’s hard not to like him in spite of all that. And I suppose it doesn’t hurt that he’s so damnably good looking. I’m a little relieved that he seems to have found a new ‘friend,’ though” Jad winked conspiratorially. “So you noticed that too?” “Hard to miss. But maybe he doesn’t even know he’s doing it, just like everything else. But I was getting rather annoyed with the way he was flirting with you back on the ship.” “Me?!” Kalen gasped. I thought he was flirting with you!” Jad laughed loud enough to make a few people nearby turn and stare disapprovingly. “Well then I guess that proves it: he just acts that way with everyone. If he is that friendly with us, I’d like to see how he behaves around a pretty girl.” “Maybe we’ll get that opportunity. The night is young.” Kalen said quietly. “Say, do you feel that?” Jad’s eyes narrowed a bit. “You mean that trembling in the deck? I hear a low constant roaring sound as well.” “Yes, that vibration. The whole ship is shaking --“ then his eyes went wide as the barge lurched sideways. He grabbed a nearby railing for balance. “I guess we are casting off.” Jad stated the obvious as he spread his legs to better brace himself and clutched at his glass. No one else around them seemed as taken aback, though there were numerous titters and positive murmurs. “After a week on a sea-going ship, I’d think that this river barge wouldn’t bother me.” Kalen swallowed. “But for some reason this deck-motion makes me uneasy.” “You’re not wrong.” Jad affirmed, looking as uncomfortable as Kalen felt. He took a big swallow of wine. “Jad…” Kalen leaned over the side. They were near the stern of the barge, and Kalen could see the river water churning and opaque behind them. There were no rowers in sight, and only a couple of polemen easing the barge away from the quay. “What do you suppose the motive power of this thing is?” “Something like the airbarges maybe. Fans in the water like fans in the air.” Jad ventured. Kalen thought this deduction surprisingly insightful from someone as uninterested in anything remotely academic as Jad. He must be right: some sort of engine drove this boat, maybe powering spinning blades in the liquid water just as they did in the air. The idea sent his mind into a strange vision of the air being just like the water, a volume of fluid but lighter, having a thickness and consistency. He had seen smoke swirl in the air just like tints in water. Were they the same somehow? It made his head hurt. Were these the kinds of secrets the Loari delved into? The Prince’s Barge trembled more noticeably with some unseen power as it moved away from the stone docks, the lagoon water roiling behind it. Kalen wondered how the Prince came by this technology, was it his Elven connections or did he simply purchase this massive vessel? The barge pulled into the open water of the Circle, followed by the other family barges in succession. Kalen noted that a few also moved under some hidden power (some bearing banners of Elven trade houses that he recognized) while others were motivated by rows of stalwart polemen. After a full circuit of the central Circle, they began their procession into the bay. Then they would work their way slowly up the Great Canal, and then finally back to the Circle again, continuing the circuit through the night. The sun was long set, the sky gone dark and the stars coming out, but those lights were dim compared to the gems glittering on the throats, wrists and ears of the guests, faceted jewels brought afire by the many lanterns scattered about the ship. A confusing procession of merchants, tradesmen and other random guests introduced themselves to the cousins, some hoping to ingratiate themselves with some possible contacts in the lucrative markets to the north. Others just seemed hungry for gossip about going-on at the Haalkitaine court. Kalen tried to be polite and noncommittal, all the while continuing to drink the wine Jad kept pressing into his hand, even though he knew he should probably be pacing himself more slowly… Sometime into the Night Quintar a tall, slender Elf slipped deftly through the crowd to reach the cousins. “So good to find you kinsmen at last; I did not know you would be on the Prince’s Barge. “Kourin Betaran, of the House Betaran.” He touched his palm to his heaving chest; he was breathing heavily as if from some effort, and his cheeks were flushed, possibly from consumption of wine (which the Elves always seemed to reveal in their complexion before mortals, though they suffered less from the hangovers of over-indulgence). “A pleasure.” Kalen nodded, wondering why Kourin called them ‘kinsmen;’ was it just because they shared Elven blood? Jad nodded, then was distracted by something off the side of the barge. Kourin noticed Jad’s interest. “Yes, the barge-hopping has started! I have just come from my family’s barge. Would you care to try it?” “I don’t know…” Kalen thought the whole thing sounded foolish and dangerous, even -- or especially -- after too many glasses of wine. Jad looked at him eagerly, obviously excited to try this new stunt. “Actual ‘hopping’ can be a bit tricky, but there are also skiffs aplenty if you prefer a safer mode of transit. In either case, I think you’ll have more fun if you get off the Prince’s Barge for awhile. It’s always where the most stuff and pretentious social climbers gather.” They had moved closer to the railing as Kourin spoke. A small crowd had gathered around two young men in expensive-looking clothes. Another, somewhat smaller barge was alongside the Prince’s, with several polemen on each using their long staves (some with dangerous-looking hooks on the end) to keep the boats a few feet apart. As the trio watched, the two youths solemnly shook hands, then climbed up on the railing. They chanted something together as they swung their arms, and at a prearranged count, leapt across the gap. One landed on his feet, the other stumbled until his companion steadied him. There was applause and shouts of approval from both barges. The polemen released the hooks and the barges moved away from each other. “All right, but let’s take a skiff.” Kalen said, shooting Jad a hard look. It took no time at all to attract the attention of a pole-boater, and in seconds they were down a ladder hanging off the side of the barge and into the skiff. “My family’s barge is just behind us; shall we start there?” Kourin suggested. “There is an open upper deck perfect for viewing the fireworks.” “As you wish.” Kalen shrugged, then he whispered to Jad, “To be honest, I’m beginning to feel a bit sleep. The though of that nice warm bed back at the Barge Inn is very appealing.” “It isn’t even midnight yet!” Jad protested. “Don’t you want to see the fireworks?” As if to answer, Kalen slumped onto the bench. “I don’t know; I guess.” The Squire sat next to his cousin and put his hand on his shoulder. “Are you feeling all right? We can go if you want of course.” “No.” Kalen sighed then managed a smile. “Let’s stay a while longer and see the fireworks. Kourin sat across from them. “I’ll have some coffee brought for you when we get to my barge. We import some exceptional beans from northern Khûm-kaan.” An hour later the fireworks were done, more wine (and some coffee) had been consumed, and Kalen was feeling a strange combination of jitteriness and intoxication. He and Jad were on the Tharal barge where they had met up again with Bertram and Taluk. While not as large as the grandest boats, this one was still impressive: obviously built with great care, using the finest materials. While his cousin was chatting with their fellow travelers, the young Marquess of Endar took a minute to lean at the railing and take a bracing breath of the sharp night air. He looked up and saw amongst the stars the dark disk that was the new moon Orhan. Something about that looming shadow made him feel small and insignificant. “Enjoying your stay in Sel-kai, Lord Endar?” Kalen, startled, spun around to see who had violated his moment of contemplation. A tall, slender man all in black stood close to him. He had skin the color of coffee with milk, and short, curly black hair. His only jewelry was what looked like a three-inch-long quartz crystal suspended from his neck by a silver chain. Kalen recognized the man’s race: he was an Itanian, from far southwestern Emer. And by his dress – and the jewel – he was a Truthsayer, one of a small group of trusted Seers often hired by powerful rulers to advise them. Kalen only knew all this because the Emperor of Rhakhaan also employed a Truthsayer, Jorun of Yarmuth. This man looked somewhat older, his hair graying at the temples and lines around his mouth. “I apologize, I didn’t mean to startle you,” the man added when Kalen did not immediately reply. “I am Koren Maas, Minister of Security and the Prince’s Truthsayer.” “Hello. I’m sorry, but I’m a bit tired. I didn’t hear you approach.” Kalen mumbled, looking over to where Jad, Kourin Betaran, Taluk and Bertram were gathered around Deg, the young heir to House Tharal. They were also at the railing, more towards the rear of the barge. He noticed that another barge was drawing close to theirs. “Understandable. It’s late and the noise of the fireworks can temporarily affect one’s hearing.” Maas smiled indulgently. He began to absently twist the silver chain of his necklace so that the crystal spun and flashed in the lamplight. “May I ask, how did you know who I was?” “Oh I could say something supercilious like ‘it is my business to know such things,’ but the truth is that I asked Kourin Betaran.” The Truthsayer grinned again. For some reason Kalen found this man’s frequent smiling to be irritating, and he was increasingly uncomfortable in the Truthsayer’s presence. He also was still feeling strange, a little dizzy…he looked over towards his companions again, and saw Deg Tharal standing on the railing as the other barge closed. He wanted to escape this man and join them, but for some reason he couldn’t say the words to excuse himself. Mass spoke again, but this time his voice was lower, and had taken on a strange timbre. “Would you tell me, Lord Endar, if you know anything about a certain magical item you might have in your possession?” “I don’t… know… what you’re talking about.” Kalen stammered. But even as he said it, he couldn’t help but picture the Phoenix pendant in his mind. Mass smiled, his white teeth a stark contrast to his dark full lips. “Indeed.” Kalen glanced to his friends. Deg and Bertram were on the other barge. Jad was looking at him, beckoning for him to join them, but Kourin grabbed his arm and urged him up onto the railing. Jad looked back, undecided. “Leave them to their games, Lord Endar.” Loren Maas twirled the crystal and it glittered with a cold light. “We have matters of import to discuss. Do you have this item on your person?” Kalen’s tongue felt thick and dry in his mouth. The lamps all around him seemed to blur, and the deck tilted under him. “I don’t…” Again Maas smiled. “You do not look well, my Lord; a bit too much wine?” He touched the crystal again. “Perhaps you would like to come with me to one of the cabins and lie down. I’m sure that Tharal would not mind.” A dozen paces away, Lord Agonar of Teusilya – in a rare public appearance -- was having an animated conversation with a skyship captain about the relative fairness of Sel-kai import taxes, when he stopped in mid-sentence and looked towards Maas and the Marquess. When the captain asked what was wrong, Agonar impatiently shushed him. His eyes narrowed. “Excuse me a moment.” He said, and moved away from the captain without waiting for a reply. Kalen did not really want to go with Mass, but for some reason his suggestion sounded reasonable. He could rest for a little while… “There you are!” Out of nowhere, Lukas slammed into Kalen, and threw his arm around the Marquess’ shoulders, spinning him halfway around so that he was no longer facing the Security Minister. The Viscount pulled Kalen away, at the same time looking over his shoulder at Maas. “Sorry, Minister, we have to go.” Maas, no longer smiling, clutched his crystal and reached out towards the two young men. He did not see Agonar behind him make a slight hand gesture and a glimmering blue light dance over his fingers as he muttered in Uscurac the spell for Unmentalism. Maas hesitated, frowning. His Master of Kind spell failed even as he attempted to cast it against the young Lord Endar. Suddenly his Essænce powers were gone! Agonar smirked, picked up two glasses of wine from a nearby table returned back to the captain, offering him the second glass. “So sorry, I was suddenly parched. Wine?” Meanwhile, Lukas half dragged Kalen to the railing. “I don’t know what that guy was doing to you, but it wasn’t good. I think he cast a spell on you!” “I did feel strange.” Kalen felt his head clearing now that he was away from Koren Maas and back at the side of the barge. “Thank you, Lukas, for rescuing me.” He smiled crookedly. At your service, Lord Endar.” Lukas bowed ceremoniously. “but let’s get some distance from him. Your entourage is over there --” he pointed to the other barge where Jad and the others were watching anxiously. “Shall we join them before the barges move too far apart?” Kalen looked nervously at the gap -- probably over six feet now – and the churning canal about a dozen feet below. The other barge was starting to angle away. “I don’t know, it’s kind of far.” “You can make it!” Lukas urged, looking over his shoulder. Maas was talking to two Elves, who were looking right at them. “Hurry!” Kalen scrambled up on the rail, cursing his ridiculous clogs. He crouched, prepared to leap across, when the whole barge lurched in a sudden turn. He lost his balance, and flailed his arms, trying to at least fall back onto the barge, but it was no use. He tumbled forward, into the gap between the barges and down towards the foaming, dangerous canal-water.
		PREVIOUS Chapter Table of Contents NEXT Chapter Return to the Haalkitane Library Foyer Copyright © 1997-2006 Terry K. Amthor Shadow World© is a trademark of Iron Crown Enterprises. All rights reserved