"I would think that progress toward such a truce would be difficult at best," Yvka said, "given how strong the enmity between your two cities is, and how long it's lasted."
Hinto nodded. "Every salt on the Lhazaar knows that the Gulf of Ingjald is rough sailing-and not because of the waters."
Asenka sighed. "Progress has been minimal, to say the least. I'm afraid that while Mahir has good intentions, a truce simply isn't possible until something can be done about the curse."
"Curse?" Diran asked.
"A hundred years or more ago, a trio of sea raiders sailed into the gulf. There were only a few fishing villages here at the time, and the three newcomers-impressed with the quality of fishing in the gulf-decided this would be an excellent location to settle and begin building their own empire. The three were family, two brothers and a sister, and their surname was Ingjald. As you might guess, they named the gulf after themselves. They selected a suitable village, one that wasn't too small but which also wasn't large enough to put up much resistance. They took over the village and renamed it after the oldest brother: Perhata. Perhata grew swiftly under the guiding hands of its new rulers, and the people, who had been unhappy at first to have their village usurped by the three raiders, became content."
"The younger brother, Kolbyr, had never really gotten along with Perhata, and he wanted a city of his own, so after convincing his sister to join him, he sailed across the gulf with her. They found a village to conquer and set up their own domain. The newly named city of Kolbyr also grew swiftly, and its people also eventually accepted their new rulers. The two cities competed for control of the gulf, but their forces were equally matched, so a balance of power was struck, and aside from the occasional raid by one side or the other, things were peaceful enough for the next several decades.
"As Kolbyr grew older it became clear that, despite a succession of wives, he was unable to produce an heir. His sister, however, had married and had a son, and she tried to convince Kolbyr to make him the next baron, for the boy was, after all, of his bloodline. Kolbyr had accumulated a great deal of power over the years, and he was determined not to share it with anyone other than his true heir. To make certain his sister's offspring could never succeed him, he had her son killed, as well as her husband. He tried to have her killed as well, but she managed to escape and fled to Perhata where she sought refuge from her other brother. Perhata was a more forgiving man than Kolbyr, and he gladly took his sister in.
"The deaths of her husband and son had driven the sister mad with desire for revenge. She began studying dark magic and eventually sought the help of infernal powers to gain her vengeance. Those powers listened. Kolbyr became fertile, and his latest wife had a child, but the child was born a misbegotten monstrosity, one that could not be slain by any known means, whether mundane or mystical. Kolbyr commanded that the creature be imprisoned, locked away to never more see the light of the sun. His wife became pregnant with another child, and though they feared the worst, this baby was born normal, as were her others. Only the firstborn was cursed. Though nothing could kill the creature, it eventually died of old age, and everyone thought that was the end of the curse, until Kolbyr's heir took over as the new baron of the city and had a child.
"For the last century, the firstborn child of each one of Kolbyr's descendents who've ascended to the barony has been born just like the first: a horrible, indestructible monster. Because the sister was living in Perhata as she learned the dark arts-and because she made no secret of who had laid the curse on her brother's house and why-the barons of Kolbyr knew exactly who was to blame for their misfortune. Over the years, the citizens of Kolbyr came to transfer the blame for the curse from the sister to the barons of Perhata, until now the cities simply hate each other on general principles. The curse of Kolbyr continues to this day, and the current baroness will not even consider peace as long as her firstborn remains a monster." Asenka smiled sadly. "So you see why peace is just a dream in the Gulf of Ingjald."
Diran considered the tale that Asenka had told him. After a time, he asked, "What became of the sister?"
Asenka shrugged. "No one knows for certain. The legend is that she just disappeared one night from her quarters in the baron's palace, never to return."
"What was the sister's name?" Hinto asked.
Asenka frowned. "Didn't I tell you? It's Nathifa."
A burst of laughter broke into their conversation. The companions turned their heads, curious who made the sound, but everyone around them was busy talking or drinking and seemed to be paying them no attention whatsoever. The only even remotely suspicious person they saw was a small cloaked figure sitting at a table alone, nursing a mug of ale, and he appeared lost in his own thoughts, though it was difficult to tell since his features were obscured by his hood.
Asenka bid them farewell soon after that, urging them to stay out of trouble during the remainder of their stay in Perhata-an admonition which elicited a snort of laughter from Ghaji. Asenka gave Diran a last lingering look, said, "See you around, Priest," and then left the inn.
Diran watched her go, then turned to see his friends grinning at him. He scowled. "Whatever you're thinking, I wish you all would stop."
"We're not thinking anything," Ghaji said, "are we?"
Yvka and Hinto shook their heads in mock innocence, still grinning. Tresslar, however, said, "Well, I'm thinking that it's getting near the dinner hour and that we should eat soon."
Diran, glad for the opportunity to change the subject, said, "I agree." He raised his hand and motioned to attract the attention of one of the inn's servers. A young man came over to take their orders, which, considering that all the inn had to offer this night was fish stew and hard-crust bread, didn't take long. As the server headed away from their table, Diran turned to Ykva.
"You were saying something before the Coldhearts barged in." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing. "Something about Aldarik Cathmore."
CHAPTER SIX
Diran stood shivering on the raised wooden platform. He was dressed only in his breechcloth, and though the dank air raised goosebumps on his bare skin, it wasn't the cold that made him shiver. It was fear.
Standing next to him was a brown-haired man who also wore nothing but a breechcloth. Unlike Diran, the man's wrists and ankles weren't bound together by leather thongs.
"Take a good look at him, folks!" the man said. "He may be young, but he comes to us from the Lhazaar Principalities. Life's rough up there, so you know he comes from hardy stock!"
"He's too skinny!" someone shouted from the crowd.
Diran tried to see who it was, but while the platform he stood on had light-stones embedded along the edges, their radiance was somehow directed inward, illuminating only the platform itself. The area beyond was shrouded in shadow, and though Diran could tell that the chamber was crowded with people, they were only silhouettes in the darkness to him. He could hear some of them whispering to one another, and he could smell the tang of human sweat and nonhuman musk.
"True, but then he's only a child." The man turned to face the crowd and chuckled. "Which, of course, is why you've all come here tonight."
There was a scattering of dark laughter throughout the crowd. Before being brought here, Diran had spent several days in another chamber, bound in darkness within a large cage. He hadn't been alone. Inside the cage with him had been a number of boys and girls, some older than him, many younger, all similarly bound, all wearing only undergarments. They sat and talked in the darkness, with no food or water, and they saw no sign of their captors until tonight when an everbright lantern lit the chamber, carried by a grim-faced half-elf. He unlocked the cage door, entered, chose a child seemingly at random, and carried her off through a tunnel entrance, taking the light with him. The half-elf returned three more times, taking a different child every time. The fourth time he'd picked up Diran and carried him out of the cage, through the tunnel, and into this chamber where he was placed on this wooden platform next to the brown-haired man.