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“Fresh kraken meat is a delicacy for many in Tanimura,” Jared said. “When salted or pickled, it can be sold all the way up into the Midlands. There’s a specialty shop in Aydindril that buys barrels of the stuff.”
Oliver swallowed hard. “It must be an acquired taste.”
After they had killed the first of the tentacled behemoths, the sailors had feasted on fresh kraken meat, boiling it in a huge iron pot on the mid decks. Oliver thought the meat tasted foul—rubbery, stringy, fishy, and oily all at once. They had dumped blobs of offal from the discarded head sack in the wake of their ship, and moments later sharks swarmed in to feast on the remains. Oliver realized that what he had believed to be a fine, shiny varnish on the deck boards was actually layers and layers of hardened slime from previous hunts.
Though the passage had been free, thanks to Harborlord Otto, the kraken-hunter ship had not sailed a direct course, but wandered the oceans for two weeks in search of prey. Captain Jared stood next to his two passengers. He was a tall man with thick muscles and disproportionately wide-set legs that gave him better balance in stormy seas.
Now as the ship headed toward the docks and all the men worked together like a well-oiled machine—or perhaps well-greased, thanks to the residue from the slaughtered krakens—the captain watched the approach. “So, which will it be for you, then?” he said to Oliver, humor in the back of his voice. “A brothel, a meal, or too much to drink?”
“A bath sounds best to me,” Oliver said shyly. He didn’t know that he could ever get the fishy stink off of him. He knew he would need to find fresh clothes. “I might suggest most of your crew do the same.”
“For me, it’ll be a soft bed,” Peretta said.
Oliver remembered the nauseating sway and lurch as he had tried to doze off on a rope hammock belowdecks. “And me as well.”
“Ah, a soft bed, a warm bed, a large bed.” Captain Jared nudged Oliver and Peretta. “If you two are together, there’s no need for a brothel, is there? Ha, ha!”
Peretta sniffed, while Oliver blushed bright. “We are fellow scholars and travelers on an important mission.”
“Of course you are, but one doesn’t preclude the other, does it?” Then the captain strolled off before they could reply, shouting orders to his men as the low-riding ship drifted to the pier. Harbor workers rushed out to catch the thrown ropes and tie up the creaking, patched vessel.
Merchants were already gathering by the time the sailors threw down the rickety gangplank. Oliver and Peretta could not get off the ship quickly enough. It wasn’t until they were on solid ground again, and searching for representatives of the D’Haran Empire, that Oliver realized they had instinctively taken each other’s hands while disembarking.
* * *
“No records have survived in the Palace of the Prophets,” Verna said, looking at the concerned expressions on her fellow Sisters who had gathered around her and Amber. “Nothing whatsoever, not so much as a spell to cure a persistent cough, or an accounting ledger of the palace’s last order of cheese.” She shook her head, but removed the glazed clay toad figurine. “We found only this dear little thing, and it was just an accident.”
Sister Rhoda grinned. “I think that belonged to Sister Armina, a keepsake from her hometown.”
The other Sisters stirred. “Is it tainted? Armina was one of the Sisters of the Dark.”
Verna held it in her palm, looked at the comical eyes of the toad staring back up at her. “I sense no magic here, nothing special.”
“I believe she just found it humorous,” said Sister Rhoda. “A little trinket.”
Verna could not imagine the grim and businesslike Armina finding anything humorous. She returned the figurine to a pocket of her dress.
“We could go back and excavate the ruins for years, if we wish, but there will be little purpose in it. Even the catacombs below were vaporized.”
“The protection web must have been woven all the way down to bedrock,” said young novice Amber. “Lord Rahl’s anger must have been quite thorough when he destroyed it.” Her voice sounded so musical, so bright. She seemed just a little girl.
Verna nodded. “Yes, Richard’s anger is often quite thorough … and it has saved the world.”
“So we should celebrate,” said Sister Eldine, a woman centuries old, but who looked no more than forty because of the preservation spell that had permeated the Palace of the Prophets.
“Yes, we should rejoice,” Verna said, but the tone of her words said the opposite. She still felt adrift because of all the changes in the world.
The Imperial Order had been defeated, as had the bloodthirsty armies of the resurrected Sulachan, but Prelate Verna didn’t know what to do. She had hoped to discover a treasure trove of documents locked in secret chambers deep beneath the wreckage of the palace, but that hope had been dashed. She and these Sisters were here in Tanimura, housed in a large new garrison built by General Zimmer and his soldiers. All the women agreed that they should move out of the barracks so that the soldiers who arrived every day need not be so crowded. Zimmer had not encouraged them to leave, but Verna could feel the need. Other Sisters of the Light were scattered around the D’Haran Empire, many in Aydindril, and some had even ventured to Westland, the original home of Richard Rahl, where he had worked as a skilled woods guide.
These ten women were the core of the remaining Sisters, the ones who clung to their teachings and looked to the prelate for guidance. They were busy with morning chores when a sharp knock came on the front door of their barracks. Young Captain Norcross stood on the plank porch, grinning. “Travelers just arrived, Prelate! They come from far south in the Old World, bringing interesting news. You will definitely want to hear what they have to say.”
“Travelers?” Verna asked. “From one of the coastal cities?”
“Much farther than that,” Norcross said with a shy smile for his sister Amber. “They have word of the wizard Nathan and the sorceress Nicci.”
Verna hurried to the door, as the other Sisters joined her. “Has General Zimmer been informed?”
Norcross nodded with enough vigor to rattle his brain loose. “I can take you to his offices right away.”
“Wait here,” she told the other Sisters. “Let me talk with him first.” She could never be sure of anything where Nicci and Nathan were concerned.
In the general’s office, the fresh wood of the new construction smelled sweet and resinous, in stark contrast to the strong fishy odor that clung to the two young visitors.
When she entered the room, Zimmer rose to his feet behind his desk. “Prelate, I’m glad you’re here. These two have much to report.”
The visitors were both thin and dressed in frayed clothes as if they had been on a very long journey. Neither of the travelers looked older than Novice Amber.
“We’ve come a long way,” said the young man, squinting and blinking. His hair looked tousled, and he needed a shave, although the fine corn silk did little to cover his cheeks. “Nicci and Nathan charged us with a mission to deliver a full report to Lord Rahl … is he here in Tanimura?”
“I’m afraid not,” Zimmer said. “He is at least a two-week ride far to the north in the People’s Palace, but he leads a vast empire, so he could well be in the Midlands, or Westland, or down in Anderith.” The general shrugged. “It might take a very long time to find him.”
The two young messengers slumped in their chairs, overwhelmed by the task before them. “We have been traveling so long, and we just want to go home,” said the girl, whose hair was a mop of dark ringlets.
Zimmer brushed a fleck of sawdust from his sleeve. He looked to Verna. “Oliver and Peretta brought many documents describing the work that Nicci and Nathan have done since leaving Tanimura. They’ve created quite an epic story.”
“I’m not surprised,” Verna said. “I expect that Nicci intends to single-handedly bring freedom and peace to the Old World.”
“Yes!” Oliver said, blinking quickly. “I believe s
he does. She’s made great strides already.”
“And Nathan … one never knows what trouble he might cause, even though he means well.”
In a rush, taking turns, the two summarized what Nicci and Nathan had done out in the Scar, destroying first the Lifedrinker and then the wild and uncontrolled life force of Victoria.
“She saved Cliffwall,” said Peretta, “the whole archive of knowledge there and all the people.”
“She saved the entire world,” Oliver said. “Life’s Mistress would have overwhelmed the land from the sea to the mountains.”
Verna’s interest was piqued. “Great archive? What is Cliffwall?”
Fascinated, she listened as the two travelers explained about the ancient library hidden in the narrow canyons, preserved since the great wizard wars.
“Nicci warned us not to attempt any spells or dabble with magic. It is obviously dangerous,” Oliver said, sounding cowed. “So, our scholars are simply cataloging. They have a lot to do.”
