Robert Hughes - The Prophet of Lamath

“Yes, my Lord.” Talith paced around the table. “You never have trusted Ligne, have you?” Joss thought a moment, not about his reply, for he knew exactly what he thought of Ligne. Rather, about its consequences. “No, my Lord,” he answered.

“You thought it was she who kidnapped Bronwynn, and now you think she is plotting my overthrow, don’t you?”

“I don’t think she’s plotting it any longer, my Lord,” Joss answered matter-of-factly. “I think she has accomplished it.”

Talith smiled cruelly. “Then you shall ride back to Chaomonous tonight and see if your suspicions are correct. You certainly won’t be missed, since we’re doing nothing but sitting here.”

“If that is my Lord’s will, certainly I will obey it,”

Joss replied.

“It is. General Joss. And my instructions to the troop that travels with you will be to conduct you to the dungeon once they are sure that all is well in the palace. How does that strike you?”

“As my Lord chooses…” Joss began.

“So I choose! Go pick your troop and get out of my camp.” Joss turned smartly and started out. “Joss,” the King called after him, “I’ll visit you in the dungeon when I arrive home.” The former Chief of Security turned at the door and bowed slightly to his King. “I will certainly be there, my Lord. Should you arrive home.”

“Get out!” Joss obeyed. He bumped into Tahli-Damen as he emerged into the moonlight, and the young merchant begged to be pardoned.

“Do you think he would see me?” the merchant went on.

“I’m certain he would.” Joss snorted. “Just leave your self-regard at the door as you enter,” the General muttered as he moved off into the night. Tahli-Damen thought about that, but it made no sense. He made his way through a series of veils and entered Talmin’s presence.

“What do you want, merchant?” the King demanded.

“I came to make a suggestion…”

“Then make it. There’s still plenty of room in my dungeon.” Tahli-Damen hesitated.

“Well go on, boy,” the King bellowed. “Say it or get out!”

“I suggest you approach the dragon again…”

“And get swallowed, I suppose. Guard!”

“No, sir, please listen!” Tahli-Damen dropped instinctively to his knees as two guards fought their way through the veils to enter the tent.

“Get out,” the King muttered, and the guards fought their way back outside again. “Go on.”

“I suggest you ask the dragon to let you pass, not to Lamath, but to Ngandib-Mar!”

“Why should I want to go there?” Talith mumbled, examining the wine that remained in his cup.

“The dragon would permit you to go there, for one thing. It is to Ngandib-Mar that the man Pelmen escaped, the day Pezi the merchant attempted to carry your daughter to Lamath.” Talith turned purple. Then he exploded.

“Ngandib-Mar!” He seized Tahli-Damen by the throat, and once again the merchant found himself crawling most humbly on his knees. “You told me Pelmen was in Lamath!”

“No, my Lord, please!” Tahli-Damen implored. “We did not know! We have only lately discovered this from other merchants!”

“How have you discovered it?” Talith demanded. “I have had you watched, merchant, ever since we left Chaomonous. You’ve received no messages that I do not know about!”

“My Lord,” Tahli-Damen pleaded, “I assure you we have ways of contact that no one knows… I just heard this from Jagd in the capital!”

“Jagd, hmm? And how go things in the capital, hmm? Answer, merchant!”

“All is well, my Lord!” Tahli-Damen yelped. “The country awaits news of your victory!”

“As I thought!” Talith growled, throwing the merchant from him and striding back to the table. Tahli-Damen lay on the canvas floor of the tent, watching the King’s face. “Joss was lying.”

“Joss, my Lord?”

“Get up, merchant, and tell me what you’ve learned about Pelmen and my daughter. Then I want to know everything Jagd’s told you since we left the palace.”

Tahli-Damen lied that night as be had never lied before, and when he finally made his way back to his tent he collapsed in exhaustion across his cot. Before he slipped into deep sleep, he thought he heard Jagd complimenting him. “Well done, my boy,” the dream Jagd told him. “You’ll make a merchant yet.” Rosha held the lamp in one hand and his sword in the other, while Bronwynn kept close behind him as they shuffled through the silent hallways of stone. She gripped the book in both hands and argued with herself about bears. At last she decided to bring Rosha into the conversation.

“What do cavern bears eat?” she whispered. “P-people,” the young warrior answered frankly. “Where do they find enough people to eat?”

“In Ngandib-Mar they d-dwell mostly in the c-ccaves near the mines. There they feed off of the Dimmers.”

“But there are no mines here. Why would bears want to live in this region?”

“How d-do you know there are n-no mines here?”

“I’ve never heard of any,” she answered. “I n-never heard of the ocean either.” They turned a blind comer very cautiously, then continued.

“Are there mines here?” she asked, her voice hushed to dampen the dreadful echo.

“I’ve n-never heard of any.” He shrugged, peering into the darkness ahead of him. Bronwynn frowned at his back.

“Then how do you know there are bears here?” she asked. “The s-smell.”

“I don’t smell anything.”

“That’s because you’ve b-been smelling bears too long.”

“Just because—” A sudden snarl came from the nightmare black. Then what seemed to be two eyes with teeth leapt at their throats. The only thing that saved either of them was the fact that Rosha dropped the lamp as the explosion of his fright blew him backward. The oil spilled across the stone and flared, and the beast stopped on the other side of it. The spreading oil burned out quickly, but by then Rosha was back on his feet, greatsword clasped in both hands and pointed at the memory of those burning eyes. Nothing happened for a moment, as the three of them stood silently in the darkness.

“Bronwynn—”

“Behind you.”

“Quiet—”

“I’m here…” Her voice quavered slightly, but she was getting good at controlling it, even when suffocating in horror. The beast made no sound. Rosha listened.

“Back up—” he whispered. “Slowly…” He listened some more. Sandals scraped sand on the stone floor behind him. He took a step back himself. Somewhere in front of him the beast growled low in its throat, and Rosha froze.

“Still backing?” he asked, his voice cracking as he choked the words out.

“Still backing,” she whispered, and he could tell she was twenty feet behind him now. He waited, stiff and ready, but the beast still did not charge. Rosha had only glimpsed the bear briefly in the lamp’s dying flare-up. It was surprisingly small. Rosha concentrated on how small the bear really was, for the darkness insisted that the animal was larger.

“Have you reached that last comer?” he asked, wondering if a loud noise could frighten the bear away. At least the tension seemed to have stopped his stammering for the moment.

“Not yet… not yet… not… yet,” Bronwynn chanted as she backed into the blackness with her hands held behind her, fearing that another set of teeth might chomp down on them any minute.

“Quiet!” he ordered, and she stopped her chant in time to hear the cavern bear snort. “Just tell me when you get there.” Rosha began to feel dizzy, standing motionless in the pitch black. His fear was changing to anger, anger at Pelmen for leaving them, anger at the bear for blocking their escape, and anger at Bronwynn for no reason at all. He entertained thoughts of springing savagely at the bear, hacking at it, biting if need be, crushing it in his grip. But he held onto his senses, and gripped his sword.