Dream of Kings, page 5
We crested a hill, and spread out before us stretched a city whose grandeur made me gasp. Stone retaining walls held flowering shrubs and fruiting bushes. Fountains sprayed rainbow mists over garden areas. The arched gates framed the entrance to a tall palace of stone, while the rest of the city unfurled like a royal cape behind. And the color! I blinked. While Norgard’s short summer fostered beautiful blooms, it was a pale shadow compared to this. Plants were laden with so many peach and scarlet flowers that they bent their stems and drooped generously over their beds.
Beyond the city, the southern sea stretched into infinity, sparkling under the sun. The ocean shaped the texture of the air. Instead of cloying humidity, the warm breeze now felt like silk against my skin. Perfumed silk.
“Welcome to Sabor,” Dennu said without a hint of irony, as if he expected me to feel grateful.
I clenched my jaw. Until I could escape, this city would be my prison.
Guards blocked the arched entry, and our caravan stopped. Dennu and Amkhu dismounted and showed papers to the armed men. I scanned the walls for other entries, but the brick facing the road was solid in all directions. After we were approved entry, Dennu didn’t bother remounting. He led his horse through the arches and then to the left, skirting the palace. As we wound through crowded streets, curious stares made me feel on display in the saddle. Heat crawled up my neck.
Saboreen civilians strolled in and out of store fronts with pillared porches that allowed the air to circulate. Their multi-layered, gauzy tunics left their arms bare, making me long to tear the sleeves from my wool dress. An occasional soldier in horned helmet and gleaming breastplate strode purposefully along the street. Scents of spices and overripe fruit rose from baskets. Dennu grabbed an oblong fruit and took a bite without paying the girl standing nearby. Her eyes widened, but she stepped back with a slight bow. Ahead of us, a huge open area of pavilions and carts held bolts of fabric, dried fish, and gilded idols. There must have been more than a hundred people bustling from stall to stall, voices raised with haggling or laughter. Most wore the Saboreen garb, but I also saw people with mottled patterns covering the skin of their bare arms, and clothing from nations I had only read about in books. I scanned the scene for anyone from Norgard.
Amkhu drew his horse alongside Dennu. “Let’s take this lot to the pens and get them cleaned up before we bring them to market.”
Dennu tossed the pit of his stolen fruit to the street. “You go ahead. I’m skipping the slave market with this one.”
Amkhu frowned. “If I have to do all the work, you don’t get a cut.”
“I’m betting all my colith on a direct sale.” Dennu’s grin was bloated with larceny and careless evil. “Perhaps even King Siverlon Imperius the Ninth, Keeper of Souls”—he tapped his forehead three times—“will have an interest.”
“Your loss. You’d make more if you got a bidding war going.” The entire caravan of raiders and slaves rattled on into the market, and for the first time since my capture, I was alone with only one raider.
I shifted in the saddle and hid my excitement. If I broke free, I could find my way back to the city gates. This was the first realistic chance for an escape.
Dennu stepped closer to his horse’s head, gripping the reins in a meaty fist. “Don’t even think about it. You’re worth more without damage, but if you don’t cooperate, I’ll flog you myself and sell you at a discount.”
I met this threat with a glare, but inside my hope curdled. “Where are you taking me?”
He ignored my question and guided his horse down a sloping alley that led deeper into the city. Beyond the bustle of the market, another neighborhood sprawled toward a wide river that I glimpsed between tall buildings. We turned into a courtyard of mosaic tile, and I shuddered to think of the horse’s hooves damaging the extravagant art. We passed a fountain surrounded by butterflies of every hue. When I squinted, I realized these were carefully crafted sculptures mounted on near-invisible wire.
“Didn’t you hear me? I told you to dismount.” Dennu’s words lashed my attention back to him. He handed the horse’s reins to a waiting servant while I clambered down. My legs trembled, and not only from the long ride.
Dennu took a clean vest from the saddlebag and put it on over his tunic. He scanned me up and down and frowned. “Do something with your hair.”
I shot him a glare. I hadn’t had amenities to work with on the trail—or my skilled apprentice to assist me. I removed my hairpins and finger-combed through tangles, then twisted a section into a tight knot, allowing the rest to fall down my back.
When I finished, Dennu handed me a sleeveless dress of the pale, gauzy fabric common among the Saboreen. “Change.”
The servant continued to hold the horse’s bridle, and outside the courtyard, people strolled past regularly. Did he really expect me to shed my garments out here?
A slap across my face jarred me into action. What was the use of modesty when I was about to be bartered into slavery? Grateful for my linen chemise, I tore off the stained wool gown, glad to be rid of the long sleeves and heavy fabric. The new garment was simple but comfortable.
Satisfied, Dennu led me to the mansion facing the courtyard. Massive front doors swung silently, as if by magic. Once we entered, I saw the servants on either side. What a tedious life, standing watch to open and close doors all day. At least the servants looked healthy and not like the thin, battered slaves from our caravan.
Several pedestals held sculptures: the swirling path of our three moons just before forming their midnight ring, an ocean wave stretching and curling, a stark mountain peppered with openings into its depths. Candles burned before each, and offerings lay scattered. Though Dennu didn’t have much use for them, he’d mentioned the Saboreen gods of sky, sea, and land. The idols, despite their beauty, made me sad. I was truly far from home and all I knew.
Paintings in pastel colors decorated the walls, and a fountain—much smaller than the one outside—gurgled near the entrance, inviting visitors to refresh themselves.
“Go on. Wash your face. Hurry.”
Again, I obeyed because I couldn’t think of another choice. But as I scrubbed my skin and shook droplets from my hands, I vowed that I would find a way to freedom and home. I wouldn’t allow myself to be ordered around forever.
A portly woman clattered toward us, her shoes creating staccato taps against the marble floor. She paused before the sculpture of an ocean wave and murmured a brief incantation, then tucked a flower into a curl of the wave. Jewels bedecked her hair, necklace, and bracelets.
“I expected you a week ago.” Despite her rounded features, all soft rolling hills, her voice was as jagged as a mountain peak.
Dennu bowed with a hand over his heart. “My utmost apologizes, Duchess Ket. It took time to learn which of the Norgard dream tellers was the most skilled.”
The duchess lifted a lorgnette from the chain around her neck and peered at me.
I squirmed like an insect pinned to a board. Overwhelmed by this new city, I had set aside my worry about what would happen when my lack of giftedness was revealed. But now it resurfaced.
“Go on, then. What did I dream last night?” she asked.
Provider, help me! What should I do? Closing my eyes, I filled my lungs and slowly exhaled. As I feared, no images appeared. At least it saved me from needing to decide about whether to use my gift for these enemies.
I braced my shoulders and opened my eyes. “I don’t see anything.”
Dennu tensed, and I flinched, expecting a blow. But Duchess Ket beamed. “Indeed. I woke this morning with no sense of a dream last night. I interviewed four prior seers from our provinces, and every one of them lied.” She signaled to a servant, who brought her a bulging valise. After she handed it off to Dennu, he sketched another bow and left quickly.
“Go on with you.” The duchess waved a languid hand. “I’m sure the journey was tiring. Perry will show you to your room. Where is your luggage?”
My jaw sagged. “Luggage? I was kidnapped and dragged—”
“Fine.” Duchess Ket yawned. “Perry will find you whatever you need. Be ready to meet with me each morning.” She strolled away, a self-satisfied sack of obliviousness, which in a strange way made me feel at home. It seemed the Norgard court wasn’t the only greedy and corrupt place on earth.
A young man emerged from the shadows near an inner archway, tufts of yellow-green hair reminding me of a moss-coated hillock. His skin was a patchwork of curving shapes in shades of pink, deep brown, and tan. “This way, Miss . . .”
“Jolan.” I gave a slight bow. “Perry, I assume?”
His lopsided grin bent the pattern of colorations on his face. “None other.”
“You aren’t from Sabor, are you?”
“Am now. And you?” His nose turned pink as if second-guessing the boldness of his question. After all, he couldn’t know my status in this household. I didn’t even know that.
“I was brought here from Norgard.”
He let out a low whistle. “Long trip.” He led me deeper into the mansion. One immaculate hallway with lofty windows led to another. A breeze brushed my skin as I hurried to keep up with his youthful strides. One more turn, and he flung open a door.
When I walked across the threshold, a riot of colors confronted me. Vases of scarlet flowers clashed with wall hangings of purple, while rattan furniture held cushions of yellow and green. “Wow.”
“Only the best for our new dream teller. They didn’t provide worship icons. Let me know if you need one.” Although he kept his voice bland, a hint of disapproval colored his words.
“Like the ones in the foyer? No, thank you.” I had no wish to add to the chaos of the room with foreign gods.
Perry scuffed a foot, still hovering by the threshold. “I think I had a dream last night,” he said in a cautious undertone.
Reflexively, I probed for the images.
Ocean waves surged and roared. Under a blazing sun, a small boat capsized. A young voice screamed in terror.
I shuddered and pushed the picture away, but a wave of relief followed. At least I knew now that my gift hadn’t permanently deserted me. Still, the glaring nightmare horrified me.
Perry leaned forward. “Well?”
He seemed so young and good-natured. He wasn’t an enemy. Was it all right for me to help him? “Do you remember the boat?”
He wrung his hands together. “Now that you mention it. There was something about falling into the sea. What does it mean?”
Weariness pressed against me. “As you suspected. Danger.”
“But I can just avoid the ocean, right?”
I frowned. “Dreams are rarely that literal. There is a mighty force stirring that threatens to swallow you.”
I shouldn’t have been so blunt. The poor young man was already far from his home, probably a captive like me. Sharing this interpretation was cruel.
But instead of wide eyes and paler patches of skin, the boy shrugged. “I could have told you that. Peril is the constant state among the Saboreen. I’ll fetch you in the morning.”
“Wait. Are there ways out of the city other than the front gates?”
His pale-yellow eyebrows pulled together. “Why?”
Unsure of how much to say, I wished I could see into his soul. An ally? A spy who would report back to Ket? “Eventually,” I said slowly, “I’ll want to visit my people in the north.”
He gave a good-natured chuckle. “There’s no way out of the city. Few caravans travel north, and Duchess Ket wouldn’t let one of her slaves leave anyway.” He dipped a bow and slipped away.
He’d said the word. Slave. No doubt about my status now. I sank onto one of the rattan chairs.
Perry poked his head back in the door. “Not sure of your intentions, but since you’re new, you deserve a warning. The dungeons of Sabor are not a place you want to visit.” He scurried away again.
A breeze moved the gauzy curtains and swirled into the room, as if to offer sympathy with fragrant scents and a comforting touch. Yet it brought no consolation. The wind was free. The birds that sang out in the courtyard were free. The water tumbling from the fountains was free. But I was trapped, expected to serve Duchess Ket, tell her dreams. But would that be using my gift for evil? The Archives of Gifts stressed that no one should use their gift for selfish gain. Was avoiding the dungeons or saving my life a selfish gain? On the other hand, the Archives also emphasized the value of truth.
I pulled out my hair pins and set them on a low table. As I massaged a blooming ache in my temples, I thought of Beja, who had fixed my hair each day and had made herself useful in any way she could. If she had missed her family, she’d never complained to me. If she’d resented the gift that had sent her to the dream teller guild, she’d never revealed those thoughts.
I didn’t know how to be Jolan the Dream Teller far from my home and serving a foreign royal. But I could use Beja as my model of quiet service. I would look out for the interests of Duchess Ket and her household. I would tell her dreams truly. And after earning her trust, I would find a way to escape.
Of course, my plans depended on whether the Provider allowed me to see and interpret Ket’s dreams. And whether the danger I’d glimpsed in Perry’s nightmare held off until I could flee.
“Truth has value. Even when a dreamer prefers that a dire warning remain in the shadows, the light will loosen the power of lurking fears.”
– The Archives of Gifts, Chapter 10, page 299
Soaking in the sunken tub in the attached bathroom, I relished the warm liquid brought directly into the room through pipes. Perfumed oil coated the surface of the water and filled the air with a floral scent I couldn’t identify. I scrubbed away the journey’s grime with a coarse sponge, most likely taken from the nearby ocean. Who knew that clean hair and skin could be such a pleasure or a towel a luxury? Still, I didn’t dare linger. If I grew too relaxed, I wouldn’t be alert to a threat that could present itself in any form in this strange land.
When I emerged from the bathroom, new undergarments and several dresses had been laid across the bed. I chose a blue linen garment with pintucks in the bodice and soft pleats in the skirt. It felt the most similar to the styles I had worn back home, but the lighter material kept me cool in the warmer climate.
Tall windows opened on a balcony, and I drifted outside. Slave I might be, betrayed by those I loved, alone in a strange land. Yet the Provider had led me to a place of relative comfort, and the clerics’ teachings demanded that I thank Him. Fingertips touching, I bowed my head and recited a morning prayer.
Bees hummed around a flowerpot mounted to the railing, the freshly watered blooms bobbing as happily as the bees. Yet when I touched one of the crimson petals, it burned my skin, reminding me that nothing was what it seemed. Good. This would be a lesson. I couldn’t let myself become seduced by the beauty and luxury in Sabor.
As a child, I’d read adventure stories. If a character was captured, they used cleverness and courage to escape. I needed those qualities now. The old man’s dream had predicted a crushing danger to Norgard—to the palace itself. Had Beja been able to get a warning to the high lord? And had she discerned an interpretation? An ice dragon didn’t mean a literal mythic creature would attack. If she told the court that, they would mock her. But the dream portended a clear warning to all Norgard. Had Cimeran hindered Beja from telling the high lord? I shuddered. Even thinking his name made my stomach curdle. I couldn’t depend on a novice to do my job. I had to escape. It was up to me to return and reveal Cimeran’s treachery. Beyond that, the entire dream teller guild had to be protected from Raka’s attempt to destroy it. And more importantly, someone had to share the dark portents of the old man’s dream. There must be a way to help my people.
What had seemed like blossom-scented air now felt rancidly sweet. I drew a map in my mind of the streets leading away from this mansion. Alleys, central market, palace, and main gate. I’d need a disguise to get past the walls. Surely those who manned the marketplace stalls had to journey in and out of the city. If I found even one ally and could pose as their assistant, perhaps I could get outside. As for the long journey north, I would just have to put one foot in front of the next.
A light tap sounded on the door of my quarters. I left the balcony, fighting to hide any glimmer of my plans from my face. “Enter.”
Perry pushed the door open, balancing a tray laden with colorful fruits, bread, cheese, and a pitcher. “Thought you might need refreshment. Tomorrow you can eat with the other staff. I’ll show you where. And I’ll fetch you when the duchess needs you in the morning.”
He set his burden on a wicker table and hurried away. Perhaps he was simply fulfilling one of his many duties, but I was grateful for his kindness. After so many days of harsh commands and disregard, even a crumb of normal human interaction was a gift. I steeled myself against attachment. The boy was a source of information, nothing more. My sole focus had to be on escape.
No matter whom you use? Whom you betray? my conscience whispered. Are you no better than Cimeran?
I tore a roll in half. This was different. The Saboreen could hide behind gardens and fountains and kind manners. But they were evil. The other slaves in our caravan weren’t likely being served a sumptuous meal. My stomach soured, and I threw down the piece of bread. I answered my own inner questions. Yes. No matter what it takes, no matter who is hurt along the way, I must return home. And I will.
The next morning, I woke before the sun and watched from the balcony the lingering colors of the three sky ribbons that had braided into a hoop during the night. I tried to draw comfort from the familiar sight, but it didn’t ease my fears. I recited two different morning prayers, but neither fit my circumstances or brought me comfort. Daring to approach the Provider more personally, the way Jesah often had, I begged Him to show me a way of escape and asked that He help me survive in the meantime. I pleaded for wisdom to face the day. What sorts of dreams had Duchess Ket experienced in the night? Would I see them? When a sharp knock echoed from the door of my quarters, I still had no answers. My stomach knotted and I couldn’t move.
