The Curse of Thir
Chapter 8

When she awoke she found herself lying next to a human slave in one of the two carts the Dreag owned. She sat up with a jolt as the wooden wheel hit a rock. They were moving at high noon along the Dreag Way. Something clinked and rattled, and as she looked down, underneath the grey shall they had covered her with, she become aware that her hands had been chained together and attached to a metal waist band she now wore. The human, also chained, was jostled about but did not wake. Looking about, she noticed that they were being escorted by a small party of Watchers, completely clad in their copper tinted armour despite the heat, no swords and brandishing their brutal emblem, of a flag stabbed through a wolf, proudly worn upon their chests, She wondered if the stories where true, that they never carried swords but wielded strange magic. Regardless of truth or stories these were the slayers of talking beasts, the last of the old regime and the most feared army from the war. Loyal only to their code; where beasts fall men shall walk. True elitists of the human race.

There were stories of how their scientist had discovered lights that burned without flame and created steam boats that where capable of floating on the air as if in water. But Xylee did not believe that these were true tales, for she had never seen any of these magical wonders nor, in fact, had she viewed any magic before in her life, of that she was certain, wasn’t she?

Riding down the dusty road etched itself long and uncomfortably in silence, the Dreag that drove the cart remained unseen but smelt familiar to her overly sensitive nasal passage way, and the demeanour of the Watchers stayed cold, giving no clue of how or why she was now between them.

Xylee stared out at the scenery as it past her by, it was somewhat recognisable even to her limited travelling experience. She recognised Duke Ruiters holding looming behind her in the distance, remembering it plainly from the time she’d been searching for new pants in the nearby village. She was confused. How had she wound up in this situation, the last thing she remembered clearly was following Rocca down the passage way.

The human beside her began to stir and as he rolled over she found his face both familiar and disconcerting, it was Anakal, the young man from her compound, the one who seemed to be in trouble with that angry girl.

He sat up slowly, his mop of barberry styled hair pasted to one side and his face, seemingly unable to grow stubble, gazed about until his eyes finally settling on Xylee. He opened his mouth to speak but Xylee shook her head, it was best not to speak in the presence of such company.

Her thoughts climbed carelessly through her mind in an attempt to sort through the mess that had evidently taken hold of her, she was aware that the past few hours of this day had not been kind to her as her body ached with stress, but the reason behind this massive unjustness remained elusive and messy. She understood what had happened in a sense, but she saw it as a separate part of someone else’s life or a dream, a vague imagining she couldn’t truly grip. Thoughts of ice, lavender and blood swam about, there were questions she wished answered but could not ask.

“Why are we here demon?” She heard this as a whisper, it took her a moment to realise the young man named Anakal had spoken to her. She raised her shackled hands to her lips and motioned for him to be silent. He shook his head.

“No, I want to know. I don’t remember how I got here nor why I am here. Answer me demon.” A Watcher kicked the cart.

“Do not speak!”

Xylee turned her face away from her travelling companion. Humans had such trouble with controlling their emotions and always seemed to fall victim to the stupidity of curiosity. Anakal ignored the command and turned his questioning to the soldiers surrounding them.

“Please sirs. What have I done to be here with it?” Xylee flinched. “Where am I being taken?” He pleaded to the men that surrounded him, Xylee could see why that girl he knew was upset with him. He didn’t know when or how to shut his mouth.

“Shut your mouth idiot! You’ll make them mad.” Xylee angrily whispered these words to him.

“Don’t tell me to shut up, you demonic whore. I saw what you did to that boy and I’ll make sure everybody knows.” as he raised his voice, Xylee knew it was pointless to argue with his panicked illusions, she had no idea what he spoke of?

“DO NOT SPEAK BOY!” A soldier, in the most beautifully decorated armour Xylee had ever seen, commanded everybody to halt and approached the wagon on the back of a black stallion. Two bags bounced on the side of his steed and the smell of blood, she had thought only in her mind, grew stronger.

“But sir... this demon creature... she... she...s...ack-” Anakal began coughing furiously.

“You cannot even structure a sentence together with your worthless words boy.” Anakals coughing had turned into dry heaving.

“You do not need to know your destination for it will become obvious, to even you, soon enough. Let us continue, but be sure to remain silent. I will have your tongue if you speak again.” The cart lurched forward and Anakal breathed heavily. He glared at Xylee with accusation but said nothing. Xylee ignored him and watched the decorated soldier trot forward.

“He must be in charge of this small troop.” The bags he carried where heavily stained at the bottom and smelt strongly of a familiar blood. She gazed with questioning eyes at the amour wearing individuals, this truly was very confusing. Time crept by exceedingly slowly but all to soon Xylee noticed that they were no longer passing by familiar forested areas, the trees seemed too heavily harvested to be part of any Dreag claimed territory. The smells had become less wild and more human. Xylee had never been this far south before, but she knew that one of the regional kings had a stronghold nearby as Bonifacio had regular meetings with him. Just as she realised where they were headed, large grey walls peered out from in between the trees and shrubs. They were headed for King Tyres’ strong hold. The very thought made Xylee gawk.

Anakals’ curiosity got the better of his accusing glare and upon discovering the grey walls with his own eyes resumed his coughing purely from surprise and his inability to speak out of fear.

The cart rolled on, with its armed guards, into the largest most built up village Xylee had ever seen. No not a village, there was a word for it, a city? Gravel roads had been replaced by level cobbles and walk ways that ran along the sides. A few trade and home owners were busily mulling about minding their own business when they noticed the Watchers. A few of the braver folks attempted to discover who they were escorting, but none could get a good glimpse as the soldiers had formed a tight square about the wagon. The houses and buildings ranged from small, big to huge, some were lovingly cared for and decorated by statues and tiny gardens. Some stood out purely because of the bright colours their owners had chosen to paint them.

One or two humans poked their heads out of the top most windows to see what the fuss about in the streets, but saw nothing but two lone figures sitting in chains, one a young male and the other hidden by a grey cloak, escorted by the Watchers.

They slowly passed by the largest of the buildings, the banner of the Watchers flew high. Freshly cut flowers were placed carefully about the grand entrance, a small number of candles stood about burning in the day. An old woman, wearing a bright orange shawl and a bronze skull cap, threw flowers and kisses towards the passing troop.

“Praise to our protectors! Praise to the true King!” She cried out behind them.

’These cold men are... praised?’ Xylee could not fathom why anybody would choose to praise these intimidating humans, but then again maybe they didn’t have a choice. The buildings now seemed to get larger and unbelievably more expensive looking. Luxury was not a familiar sight and Xylee found the decorations pointless and in poor taste, one had a large statue of a dying doe with wide frightened eyes. It did seem, however, that all the buildings, houses and businesses, had one thing in common. A small glass cylinder, caged in black iron, was attached to the outside of each of them. She thought perhaps they were charms to ward off evil. Scoffing at this idea Xylee pathetic that these tiny things could ward off the Dreag, it was sheer ridiculousness. Humans were stupid and blind. She then wondered if any of them had ever seen a Dreag.

They had entered a flat area of land and the wagon slowed down to a crawl as they approached the gates of King Tyre’s stronghold.

The pure height of the wall cramped Xylees neck as she strained to look up. A hand stopped her head from tilting all the way back.

“Not very bright are you girl?” Bonifacios’ hand pushed her head forward, preventing the hood from falling off. She shivered in recognition, feeling something cold left from where he had placed his hand. He had been driving the cart.

“Per’aps you’re still feeling a bit muddled up?” The cart had stopped, and Bonifacio was commanded off by the guards of the gate, they wore almost no armour and were far less spectacular than the Watchers but, the swords at their sides still managed to glint menacingly in the sun. Only a fool would believe them unable.

As Bonifacio was being searched, a few of the Watchers left their party to patrol the roads around the castle. These men seemed to have far more jurisdiction than seemed healthy.

“Duke Ruiter sir, would you please be as kind as to remove your helmet and command your men to the same?” One of the guards’ men had approached the decorated armoured man and bowed in respect. This Duke lifted his hand in command, the etched almost floral pattern flashed momentarily.

The helmets of all of soldiers’ slid off with ease, revealing a mixture of men and woman, all with the same steely cold look.

Anakal gapped at the women sitting high upon these magnificent horses, maddeningly beautiful but equally as menacing.

“Women?”

“We do not care if you are man or woman.” Duke Ruiter road up to the cart again and looked fiercely at Anakal then at Xylee, “As long as you are human.” His stern face was shaped with a neatly trimmed black beard, his regal nose scrunched up in disgust at Xylee and Bonifacio.

“Prisoner! Take your hood off!” The guard was now approaching Xylee.

“Halt soldier!” The Duke blocked the guards’ path.

“But sir, we must know all who enter here as commanded by the King. It is for His safety that such things must be done.”

“This prisoner is not to be revealed to anyone apart from the King.”

“But Duke Ruiter sir, we cannot by law, disobey our King.”

Xylee shifted uncomfortably. Why couldn’t she just remove the hood? She was already known in most parts of the land as the demon child.

“I do not ask you to disobey our King. I demand it. You are to leave this prisoner to be viewed by His Highness. I shall personally vouch that no harm is to come to Him or His family.”

The guard stared up at Duke Ruiter, then looking to his comrades for help. None was offered, as nobody dared cross the Duke.

“...Well... As you wish then sir...” he bowed and motioned for the gates to be opened.

“Bonifacio, get back on the cart. Delvessa!” He motioned at a young woman with sleek dark hair, much like his own, on top a tan horse.

“You and three of the men will accompany me to the Kings’ thrown room. Command the rest to wait here for our return. Bonifacio will not be staying the night and must be accompanied back when we are done.”

The woman turned her horse and gathered the three that were to join them. The gates had opened up completely and Xylee was surprised to see no guards turning the large gears as they went through into the grounds of the stronghold. Then the gears sparked lightly and began to close on itself.

“Magic!” Anakal exclaimed this too loudly for Duke Ruiters liking and reaching into a small satchel on his saddle he pulled out a not to clean looking handkerchief and stuffed it into his mouth.

“If you spit that out and attempt to speak again you will be done for. Do you understand?”

Anakal nodded fiercely his eyes big with shock at the magic he had seen, clearly not to bothered about the disgusting piece of cloth in his mouth. He was defiantly and idiot not that Xylee was not surprised by the presence of magic. She thought she knew what magic was meant to be like, but this, it felt less extraordinary than she expected. It seemed unnatural almost forced, like attempting to bottle lightening from a storm, in a sense. She sniffed at the air, it did smell a little bit like a lightning storm, but, as she looked up she could see no clouds for kilometres in any directions. “How would I know what to expect, I’ve never seen magic have I?” Her head was growing fuzzy as she tried to think back.

Anakal almost bounced around in wonderment, although she could tell he was terrified beyond any reason of a doubt, the excitement of magic had gotten to him. The Duke gave him a dirty disapproving look.

This strong hold was gigantic, far bigger than Bonifacios whole compound, and there in the distance stood a castle glistening in the ever setting sun. Around the small party were battlements filled with hundreds of soldiers’, all training, sleeping and being merry. The humans had a far greater army than the Dreag could ever have; it was no wonder that Bonifacio was so compliant.

A smooth road led all the way into the gardens surrounding the castle and straight up to their iron gates, passing the training men had brought little or no attention to their party which gave Xylee a sense of relief.

It looked as it did in a printing she had had seen, except far bigger and in all its’ magnificent colour. It stood higher than the rest of grounds and etched itself out of the now multicoloured sky. The sun had just begun to dip behind the grey walls, when they reached the entrance. It had taken a good twenty minutes to cover the ground.

Xylee was now more confused than ever, her life had been an uneventful tortures journey so far but nothing as strange as this had ever taken place, her reasoning behind her reallocation was a blank page of random guessing.

The iron gates where guarded in front by only one guardsman, as far as could be seen, but he seemed far more deadly than the entire army they had just passed by. He stood in an easy-going manner, his one arm hidden by a brilliant purple cloak clasped onto his breastplate and he had no sword. Yet Xylee could sense lethal intent behind the plain unadorned helmet. They drew closer to him and stopped.

“Long time no see Ruiter. I’ve missed you and your shiny tin men.” His voice spoke easily, with a hint of sarcasm.

“You will address me in the correct manner Gelnane.”

“My sincere apologies Duke Ruiter,” He was not sincere nor was his half hearted bow. “I did not mean to offend.” He walked slowly closer to the cart Xylee and her unwilling companion occupied. He glanced casually at them and then at Bonifacio.

“Not the kind of company I expect you to be keeping... Sir.” Looking directly at the Duke he carried on.

“We received your message and it was extremely unexpected for you, yourself, to be in an escort party for a Dreag. Not to mention the next scheduled meeting of the Dreag is in a month’s time.” Duke Ruiter snorted openly at Gelnane his horse shifted uncomfortably beneath him.

“It is, as mentioned in the message, of an urgent nature. You know as well as I that any breakage of the treaty is to be seen to immediately by both parties.”

Gelnane bobbed his head once as a sign of agreement at this knowledge.

“The Kings court has been prepared for your arrival, Duke Ruiter.” His hand waved in the air and the gate climbed up.

“I will escort you and your party to the stables and the court. Do you wish to freshen up, Sir?” He smiled at the word “freshen”, his mouth, the only visible part of his face, was wide with his toothy grin.

“Fool. Just take us to King Tyres.”