Death's Mistress

CHAPTER 26

After a full day of picking up the pieces, the grieving survivors of Renda Bay were exhausted. With Holden dead, a man named Thaddeus accepted the position of town leader. Thaddeus was a beefy, square-faced fisherman with a long, frizzy beard. He was well liked among the villagers, but he looked completely out of his element.

Nicci had been watching the people throughout the day. She had always hated slavery, and it was her mission to stop tyranny and oppression in the name of Lord Rahl, as well as for her own soul. In a way, this was how she could help save the world for Richard, but she doubted this was what the witch woman’s prophecy had meant.

Nathan and Bannon had washed the grime from their hands and faces, but their hair was still tangled, and their clothes were still covered with blood that had long since dried.

Together, the villagers made a solemn procession out to the hillside graveyard, with mules and shaggy oxen drawing a line of carts to carry the dead. The people, already weary, sore, and heartsick, spread out to mark burial sites for the thirty-nine villagers who had died in the battle. The townspeople carried spades and shovels but seemed daunted by the task of digging all those graves.

“We must also erect twenty-two wooden posts,” Thaddeus said in a wobbly voice, “to remember the good people taken by the raiders.”

“Carve the names into the stone and make your wooden markers,” Nicci said. “I can use my gift to assist with the other work.” She released a flow of magic to scoop aside the grasses and dirt on the hillside to fashion a perfect grave. It was easy enough once she went through the process. She made an identical grave adjacent to the first, and then a third. She had many more to go.

The villagers watched, too tired to be amazed, too frightened to express their gratitude. When she finished the thirty-ninth grave, Nicci stepped back, feeling weary. “I sincerely hope you will not need more anytime soon.”

With little ceremony and acknowledging that they would all grieve later, in their own time, the people of Renda Bay buried their dead. The men and women spoke the names aloud as they took each body from the cart and interred the victims, a mixed range of farmers, a carpenter, a jovial brewer, two young boys killed in a fire after the house in which they had taken refuge burned to the ground, and town leader Holden, who had given up his life on the sea to lead Renda Bay.

The seamstress Jann spoke her husband’s name and wept, bowing her head over the grave as Phillip’s body was laid to rest and covered with dirt. “He just wanted to build boats,” she said. “After the accident with the fishhook, he prefered to stay on land. He thought it would be safer.” Her shoulders shuddered. “Safer.”

Nathan stood next to the small woman, his gaze somber, his head lowered. Awkwardly, the seamstress held out a folded gray garment for him. “This is another of Phillip’s shirts, Nathan. You fought with us, you saved me, and—” Her voice broke with a quick choking sound. She sniffled, and her lips trembled. “And your first new shirt was ruined. Phillip would want you to have this.”

“I would be honored.” The wizard pressed the clean linen against his chest.

Although they had fought alongside the people of Renda Bay, Nicci did not feel she had finished her mission here. After they had filled in the graves and woodcarvers had cut names into the fresh-cut posts, Nicci addressed the villagers before they left the graveyard.

“This is why you need Lord Rahl,” she said. “His goal is to stop such violence and bloodshed, to crush slavers so that all people can live their lives in freedom. Yes, he is far away, but the D’Haran army will not tolerate such lawlessness and oppression. It may take time, but the world will change—the world has already changed. You must have noticed the stars.”

The villagers muttered, listening to her with a different attitude after their ordeal.

She continued in a stronger voice. “But you have to be responsible for yourselves as well. When you’ve picked up the pieces here, send an envoy on the long journey north to the People’s Palace. In D’Hara, swear your loyalty to Lord Rahl and tell him what happened here. Tell him about all the lands of the old empire that need him. He will not let you down.”

Nathan said, “Before you send envoys, we will write a message for him, as well as a summary of what we have seen. If someone could deliver that, we would be most grateful.”

Thaddeus swallowed hard. “Even though they were defeated last night, the Norukai will return. How soon can your Lord Rahl send his army?”

Nicci wasn’t finished. “You cannot simply wait for help. All people are responsible for their own lives, their own destinies. You must improve your own defenses, and you will need more than a bonfire and a lookout tower. The slavers believe you are weak, and that is why they prey on you. The best way to insure your peace is through strength. Maybe last night was a lesson for them. We were here to help this time, but you would not need to be rescued if you weren’t victims in the first place.”

“You can learn how to defend yourselves,” Bannon said, looking away. “I did.”

“But how?” Thaddeus said. “Erect walls along the shore? String a barrier chain across the harbor? How are we to raise an army? Where do we get weapons? We are just a fishing village.”

Nathan suggested, “In addition to your bonfire and lookout platform, build guard towers on either side of the harbor, and be ready to launch a rain of fire arrows down on any raiders who come. Keep several longboats at the ready to go out and sink them before they enter the harbor. The raider vessels will be flaming wrecks before they ever get to shore.”

Nicci said in a hard voice, “The Norukai are slavers, not conquerors. You have an advantage, because they want to capture you alive, otherwise you are no good to them. Other attackers may just slaughter you all.”

“I would be happy to kill them,” Jann growled.

Nicci approved. “Let nothing hold you back. Arm your people so they can fight better.”

“Keep boat hooks and pikes ready on the docks,” Bannon said. “Even if the slavers get through, your people could fight them off as they try to disembark.”

“Make them think twice before they come back here again,” Nicci said. As she watched determination grow like a slow-burning fire among them, she felt gratified. “When your wounds become scars and you’ve rebuilt your homes, do not forget what happened here, or it will happen again.”

* * *

The next day, Nicci, Nathan, and Bannon went to the small building that served as Renda Bay’s town hall. The interior smelled of smoke. Three of the glass windows were shattered, and the roof was partially charred, but teams of villagers had extinguished the fire before it caused severe damage.

The beefy town leader’s posture seemed hunched with duty. “I’ll need workers to help rebuild this hall, but it may take time. Our first priority is to strengthen our defenses, as you said.” Thaddeus looked at them with a hopeful expression. “Would you stay with us, defend us? We’ve seen how powerful your magic is, Sorceress. And the wizard could try to use his magic, too.”

Nathan looked as if he might be sick. “No … that could be dangerous.”

Nicci bit her lower lip. “I have a larger purpose to serve for Lord Rahl, and now we must move on. The storm blew the Wavewalker far off course, and we need to look at maps and determine where we are.”

“We need to find a place called Kol Adair,” Nathan said. He patted the life book in his leather pouch. “We were told that something important awaits us there.”

“We do have some maps,” said Thaddeus, distracted and troubled. “They’re in here somewhere.” He rummaged in Holden’s cabinets, shifting aside old documents that listed the names of registered fishing boats, a ledger for taxes, charts of land ownership. Finally, he found an old and sketchy map that showed the Phantom Coast, the southern part of the Old World marked with a spiderweb of clear, straight lines that joined the open lands.

“These are imperial roads that Emperor Jagang constructed to move his armies, but he spent little time this far south. All I know is that the port cities of Serrimundi and Kherimus are up here somewhere.” He gestured vaguely off the top of the map. “And Tanimura is farther north. I’ve heard rumors of the New World, but I know nothing about it.”

While Nicci studied the map, Nathan took out his life book and quickly sketched in some details on his own map, correcting some of his crude estimates of the terrain they had seen.

“Kol Adair…” Thaddeus sat heavily in the chair behind Holden’s old desk. His brow furrowed as he looked at the charts, but they seemed unfamiliar to him. He scratched his frizzy beard. “I’ve barely been beyond Renda Bay, myself. Even in my fishing boat, I never sailed out of sight of the coast.

“I’ve heard stories of distant lands, though. I believe Kol Adair is well inland, beyond the foothills and over a mountain range, across a vast fertile valley, and then more mountains. The place you seek lies somewhere in those mountains … according to the stories.”

He ran his hand along the easternmost part of the map as if he could draw topography on the scarred desk. “No distant travelers have come through here in such a long time.” He pointed to the middle of the map. “But we know of other settlements upriver, ports, mining towns, farming villages.” He shuddered visibly. “And in the other direction there are islands out at sea, rugged windswept rocks where the Norukai live.” He bit off his words, then said with hollow calmness, “I would not suggest you go there.”

“We won’t,” Nathan said. “We are looking for Kol Adair.”

Nicci asked, “Can you supply us with provisions, packs, garments, tools for our journey? We lost almost everything in the shipwreck.”

“Renda Bay owes you far more than we can ever repay,” said Thaddeus.

“If you send your emissaries up to D’Hara bearing our message to Lord Rahl, that will be all the payment I require.”

* * *

After resting one more day and helping the villagers collect the ragged debris of their lives, the three set out again. They all wore clean clothes. Bannon’s sword, now sharpened and oiled, hung at his side in its plain scabbard. Nathan’s ornate sword had also been cleaned, polished, and sharpened.

Bannon seemed troubled as they set off on the road. “Can we make a slight detour to the graveyard? There’s something I want to do.”

“We already paid our respects to the fallen, my boy,” Nathan said.

“It’s more than that,” Bannon said.

Nicci saw how the young man had changed after his experience here. He no longer seemed so cheerful and naive … or maybe his cheeriness had always been an act. She said, “I do not wish to delay for long.”

“Thank you,” the young man said.

They followed the curve of the hill until they reached the line of new graves, the fresh-packed earth that held thirty-nine resting bodies. Bannon went straight to the part of the burial ground crowded with wooden posts. Twenty-two new ones had been pounded into the ground, each etched with the name of a villager taken by the slavers.

Bannon clenched his fists as he walked among the posts until he chose one—a clean, bright post of freshly sanded wood. On one side, a villager had carved the name MERRIAM.

Bannon dropped to his knees on the opposite side of the post. He pulled out his sword and held it awkwardly, using the point to gouge three letters into the fresh wood. Tears sparkled in his eyes as he looked at the name.

IAN.

Nathan gave him a solemn nod.

Bannon stood again, and placed the sword back in its sheath. “Now I’m ready to go.”