Chapter 16: Qilani II (Part 2).

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  Along the Sotria river, Month: 94, Year: 226.

  They were finally ushered into a chamber where a richly dressed Haksari reclined on a throne. Like Ottelio, he was slender and not much taller than herself, but with hair that grew strangely in front of his ears.

  A taller guard stepped three paces forward and spoke in the tongue of Solenya. Qilani caught none of it, but Onahi stepped into the role of translator without hesitation.

  “Lord Achello Calesso of Lamor extends his hospitality and welcomes you into this faithful city.”

  The man on the throne rose and approached. Earlier today, Onahi had explained that this man who was now standing in front of them was Lord Achello, Lord Ottelio's uncle and ruler of this city. After explaining what the words uncle and nephew meant, she had to explain what the word father meant. Then, she had to explain what those lord and lady titles meant. Qilani had only grown more confused about Haksari family ties and titles after the explanation as she was before it. Nonetheless, there was no point in trying to recall the lecture now.

  Lord Achello finally broke the silence when he finally shook Ottelio's hand and pulled him closer for a half-hug. “Dear nephew,” he said, “to what do we owe the pleasure of your visit?”

  Lord Ottelio reciprocated the gesture and spoke. “Dear uncle, thank you for receiving us. We are on a mission to… ”

  “I know, I know,” Achello cut in. “The Drakvari from Kalista are marching on Ca?rovof, conspiracies against the Queen and first Princess of Kalista. I've received the messages.” He smiled thinly. “Ferano’s loyal sons and daughters are always welcome in Lamor.”

  “Tsk.” Lord Ottelio clicked his tongue. “Thank you, dear uncle. But we also hoped you might extend that hospitality to the Drakvari traveling with us.”

  Silence pooled in the room before Achello turned to Onahi. “I guess you did mention something like that in your letter.” He paused, then addressed Ottelio. “Tell me, Lord Ottelio. Are there Drakvari warriors among your guests?”

  “There are,” Ottelio admitted with heavy words. “Allow me to introduce Princess Su… ”

  The man didn't let him finish. “I'm afraid we can't extend the same welcome to your Drakvari companions.” Lord Achello said, now pacing “Our citizens are quite weary of Drakvari in general. Their towering warriors and most of all, the flying ones would be most alarming to have around. It's not something I can force on them.”

  “I’m sure you understand,” Achello said, attempting, and failing to hide a smile as he glanced toward Onahi.

  Lord Ottelio bowed. “I know we ask much of your hospitality, uncle, but I beg you to reconsider. I … ”

  Achello burst into laughter. Ottelio lifted his head, only to find his uncle’s attention fixed on Onahi.

  “I see, I see,” Achello said once he caught his breath. Onahi hesitated before translating, visibly uneasy. “So this is the one, isn’t it? The Drakvari from the rumors?”

  Onahi bowed and seemed to have attempted to introduce herself in the language of Solenya, but lord Achello acted dismissively, as if she was just furniture in the room.

  “Worker Onahi of Kalista and I are just friends,” Ottelio snapped, brows frowning. “There is nothing improper about it.”

  “Of course, of course,” Achello replied, hands lifted in mock surrender. “I would never credit such scandalous and outrageous gossip, dear nephew.”

  “But I must warn you, Lord Ottelio” Achello went on. Qilani and Princess Sulaye drifted nearer as Onahi stepped back and lowered her voice as she continued to translate. “Going this far to please your friend, might just feed those nasty rumors even further. I'm certain your mother Lady Corinna would not be pleased with that.”

  Ottelio rose to his full height. “You forget your place, uncle. My mother is governor of this region. Lamor and yourself have sworn allegiance to Ferano, the vote of the people and by extension… ”

  “You forget your place, boy!” Achello thundered. “You come to my castle, empty handed and making ridiculous demands. Did the Lord and Lady of Ferano even agree to this… excursion of yours?”

  Lord Ottelio placed his hand on his chest. “I was ordered to warn lord Creese of the impending Drakvari attack on ….”

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  “Spare me,” Achello interrupted. “Did they also order you to get in the middle of this Drakvari conflict? Did they order you to support one Drakvari princess while antagonizing the other?”

  He let his eyes drift to Sulaye, a child princess who hadn't even grown wings large enough to fly, as was hiding behind Qilani. “If you insisted on choosing sides in this nonsense, you should have at least chosen the winning one.”

  He exhaled, trying to calm himself. “And now you would drag Lamor into your folly, offering them shelter through the long night and inheriting their enemies.”

  Ottelio stared down at the marble floor, jaw tight with frustration. Silence pooled through the chamber until Achello finally broke it.

  “My offer still stands, dear nephew,” he said, mockery dripping from the words. “You and the people of Ferano are welcome to stay.” He smirked. “I will even allow your three friends to remain, though it already stretches the limits of my hospitality.”

  “Thank you, uncle,” Ottelio replied at last, reluctant and refusing to meet his gaze.

  The meeting was over and the Haksari guards led Qilani, Sulaye, Onahi and Ottelio out of the hall and into the dark. Their task now was to bring the news to those still waiting on the ships, news no one had wished to carry. Less than an hour had passed since they’d crossed the city gates, yet the return felt more silent and colder than the trip towards the castle had been.

  Qilani hadn’t followed every detail of the tense exchange, but she didn’t need to. The look on Ottelio’s face and the tightness in Onahi’s jaw told her everything: things had gone far worse than either of them had dared to expect.

  Soon they were back on the ship, climbing the narrow plank one after another.

  “How did it go?” Captain Tekira asked, voice hesitant, as though bracing for the answer.

  “Not great, Captain. I’m sorry,” Onahi said. “They’ll allow the princess, Qilani, and me to stay. But no one else.”

  “I see.” Tekira didn’t flinch, as though she’d already guessed it. “What do you recommend?”

  “That we remain on the ship,” Onahi said. “Even if the three of us were permitted inside the walls, I think we’d fare better out here with everyone else.”

  “He said you three would be allowed in,” Ottelio objected.

  “I know,” she signed. “But by his tone, they’d watch our every step, searching for any excuse to reprimand us; and by extension you. That if we’re lucky, Otto. I’d rather take my chances here.”

  Tekira exhaled in resignation. “Then we’ll find a way to stay warm.”

  “Captain,” Lord Ottelio said, raising his chin to meet her gaze. “You have lived through long nights on the surface before, have you not?”

  Onahi translated, and Tekira nodded once.

  “Then tell me,” Ottelio pressed, “can a long night truly be endured out here, with only these ships for shelter?”

  Tekira let her eyes drift over the crew: warriors and workers alike, huddled together on the deck, some of them bandaged or limping. “Most of us, yes,” she said quietly. “But I do fear for the wounded.”

  “Then there must be something we can still do,” Ottelio insisted. “If I return with an offer, perhaps he… ”

  Onahi stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. “We’re tough, Otto. We’ll try to figure something out. Go with the other Haksari, and I’ll be here to greet you when the sun rises again… probably.”

  Ottelio flinched at the last word. But lies, even kind ones, incurred Auron’s punishment. Onahi could not promise something she didn't fully believe.

  Qilani looked at the exchange, trying to think of a solution. They were still within the first twenty four hours of the long night, and she already felt colder than she had ever felt. According to everyone who had experienced the long night from the surface, it would only get much worse.

  “I have an idea,” Qilani said, cutting gently through the discussion. All eyes turned to her as she knelt before Princess Sulaye. “Princess, will you grant me permission to claim a relic of Auron?”

  During the retreat they had seized two relics from the attackers, heavy weapons that might, if they were lucky, respond to her and offer some use.

  Captain Tekira signed with a doubtful shrug. “Very well. We can try.”

  The relics they had secured were weapons: a heavy axe and a long spear, both far too large and heavy for Qilani to wield and clearly forged for the warrior caste. With Sulaye’s permission, Captain Tekira led the small group below. The group that gathered was small, because most had abandoned the idea as soon as they heard it.

  As they entered the chamber where the relics were kept, Qilani heard a faint buzzing near her left ear. She turned to see the tiny silver-winged insect from earlier landing once again on her shoulder; she took it as a sign and followed the captain inside.

  Tekira murmured a brief prayer, then lifted the relics from their box and laid them on the floor with quiet reverence.

  They watched Qilani expectantly. She whispered a brief prayer and stepped toward the axe. As her hand neared the weapon, the relic shuddered with a dark, warning glow, enough to halt her where she stood. A clear sign of rejection.

  “Don’t blame yourself,” Tekira said quietly. “You’re young. These relics choose warriors. Someday, another relic will choose you, one that is more suited to your destiny.”

  Zulanah had been younger when a relic accepted her, and everyone agreed she was an exception, one of those rare stories that happened every once in a while. Qilani had known her chances were slim, yet the refusal still burned, sharpened by the cold and by their circumstances.

  Sulaye squeezed her fingers. “It’s not your fault. And the captain said it won’t be so cold if we all snuggle close.”

  Qilani forced a smile. “You’re right, princess. I’ll look for blankets, and anything else that may keep us warm.”

  Qilani searched the shadowed rooms one by one for anything that might be useful. Until she found a bag stuffed with blankets and scraps of clothing, inside a supply closet. Exactly what they needed.

  But the bag was lashed to crates with thin ropes, knotted tight. Her fingers, stiff and numb with cold, fumbled uselessly at them; pulling would only tear something.

  She reached for the dagger at her thigh.

  And the world transformed in a heartbeat.

  Auron hung huge and brilliant overhead. A dangerous-looking Haksari woman Qilani had never met looked down at her with pity and something like regret. In one hand gleamed a dagger stained with blood; in the other, her knuckles were white around a clenched fist.

  It vanished in an instant. She was back in the cramped darkness of Lord Ottelio’s ship.

  What was that?

  The dagger fell from her grasp as fear burst through her chest.

  “Don’t listen to that fool Achello,” the voice murmured. “I can give you what you want. I can get your people behind those walls.”

  Qilani nearly fled the room, until that last promise rooted her in place.

  Is the dagger… speaking to me?

  “You wanted a blessing from Auron, didn’t you?” the voice coaxed. “Well, now I'm here. And I can get you what you seek.”

  Thank you very much for taking the time to read my story.

  I’m a medical doctor who writes as a hobby, hoping to one day create an immersive world like that of Tolkien, Herbert, or Rowing.

  I post a new chapter every two weeks, always trying to keep the quality high.

  Thank you very much for your feedback.