The Slave-Master had noticed my actions from the beginning and forced his eyes to look elsewhere so he didn’t give away my action by laughing or smiling, but always near enough that he could see it from the corner of his eyes. The blob wavered, dipped, and when I couldn’t hold it in place anymore. It fell.
“What?” Elizabeth leaped to her feet, wiping water from her forehead and hair.
I tried not to giggle and failed. She looked at me and scowled. I knew I was in trouble.
I confessed, “I did it. Just water.”
“You’ll pay for that,” she hissed as she dove at me, hands reaching for my throat to choke me into submission as she’d done a hundred times in our combat lessons at Crestfallen. I had expected her reaction and anticipated it, so I rolled to one side and attempted to climb to my feet as she hit the sand at my side where I’d been. She was too fast for me. She also rolled, throwing one leg ahead of herself in a sweep. I didn’t see it coming, and it took my feet from under me.
Before my butt hit the ground, she was on me, swinging, punching, and groping for a chokehold or headlock. I twisted and spun, blocking more of the blows, but not all. As I rolled in an attempted escape, I found every person in camp watching. Most were shocked, astounded, afraid, or so intimidated that none moved or interfered. Not only was the girl giving me a fight, but she was a princess.
She leaped at me from behind, straddling my leg by sitting on the back of my calf and pinning me down as she lifted my foot in a painful wrestling hold. She flicked off my boot and reached for my sensitive toes. As she bent them backward, her other hand tickled the bottom of my foot.
I let out a yell of protest and tried to free myself while screaming that she was cheating. I shouted for help—and got none. She tickled me again. Then she twisted a toe.
“Apologize,” she demanded.
“I’m sorry.”
She growled and pulled another toe, “I can’t hear you.”
I raised my voice, so it rang across the desert floor, “I’m sorry!”
She let me go with a satisfied toss of my foot away from her.
The Slave-Master was chuckling and said to her loud enough for all to hear, “You royalty in Dire certainly handle your subjects different than we do. I think I prefer your way. After you catch your breath, you’re invited to take me on.”
I managed to get to my feet, pulled my boot back on, and tried to recover a little dignity—not an easy task with every person in sight laughing at me.
CHAPTER THREE
The wrestling episode with Princess Elizabeth was exactly what all in the camp required to relax. Amidst the wrestling, tugging, punching, and shouting, then the pervading tensions evaporated like the morning mist as watchers took sides—most hers. A few offered suggestions I might try during the next bout. The idea that a loyal subject would spill water on his princess was inconceivable to them. Her response in attacking me was beyond belief, and more than a few coins exchanged hands.
Her unexpected response was because they didn’t know her, or the hundreds of wrestling matches we’d had while practicing with the King’s Weapon-Master at Crestfallen for almost ten years. She was smaller than me but quicker—and she fought dirty. I was not allowed to use my magic in any form by mutual agreement. Besides, we had agreed to keep my limited magic secret from all but the three of us, therefore, it was more powerful when it was used.
This late in the afternoon, our playful romp provided a relief we all needed. Afterward, we ate an early meal of hard strips of meat that had been soaked in brine to soften them and dried beans that had been boiled. The beans contained green flakes of at least two plants I recognized and one I didn’t. Overall, combined with warm, stale water, it was one of the better and more memorable meals I’d ever eaten.
The topic of conversation at first centered on Elizabeth and me. Then it changed to ideas and possible plans. Everyone provided suggestions.
We all agreed that Dagger had to be our primary target until we found a way to defeat Kaon. We also agreed that we couldn’t capture Dagger and thus all of Kondor, or any of the Council of Nine, without outside help.
Avery said with a sneer, “We need an army, maybe two. A few rogue mages would also help, and a dozen sorceresses would too, especially with our sagging morale. Any other ideas?”
Kendra said, “Prince Angle has already raised a small army. It will grow and he’ll fight with us.”
Avery had told us the prince had started a rebellion and taken Vin in a surprise attack. Now he was marching to Trager to restore order and seat someone on the throne as he attempted to save the city from destruction and increase the size of his army with fresh recruits. Kendra’s dragon had burned much of the city, and the people there had already been starving for a year. I didn’t see a lot of hope from that direction and said so.
To my surprise, Avery disagreed. “While I was traveling under the guise of a Wandering Priest in Trager, I found there are more people in the city than you’d believe. They are hungry, but they are the survivors in a city where half the population has died, and they kept out of sight but managed to go on. They are tough. Many were in their King’s Army before all this began. Others learned to fight in the street. Their families are dead. I suspect a good number of them will leap at the chance to fight back at their oppressors—especially if we offer food and pay.”
“We?” I asked. “How did this become something we are going to do?”
Avery replied with the sly smile I hated when he directed it my way, “With a couple of warriors loaned to me by the Slave-Master, the three of us could ride over the mountain pass between Vin and Trager and meet up with Prince Angle’s army there and help. Remember, I am not without influence in Trager. I can be of most help there.”
From experience, I knew Avery never did anything without a benefit to himself. I searched back in time and found it. The murdered king of Trager had been his personal friend for years and years, although it was difficult to think of anyone actually liking Avery. He felt an obligation to help the people of his slain friend. That was easy to understand.
I said, “You could help them find the rightful heir to the throne as well as use your influence to recruit soldiers. I like it. Prince Angle will appreciate it too.”
The Slave-Master said, “One of the few things I am good at is the organization of large groups of people and supplies. If a ragtag army from Trager and Vin is going to help us, it will need food, clothing, weapons, and training. My warriors and I can best be of service that way. I know how and what to procure.”
“You’ll go with me?” Avery asked in an astonished tone that displayed more disbelief than acceptance.
The fat man brushed the last of the crumbs from his meal off his tunic as he said, “It is where I can best be of service.”
Flier said, “I know the way. As a messenger, I traveled that pass a dozen times. I’ll go too.”
People were already packing their belongings in preparation for an early start. Only five of us remained and we watched silently. Elizabeth, Kendra, Anna, me, and Will, the protector the king assigned to Elizabeth would soon be alone. I looked at them in anticipation.
Elizabeth said coldly, “Avery suggested we need two armies.”
“Vin and Trager are not two?” I said, knowing they were not.
“Fairbanks and Landor lie south of Kondor across the sea. Fairbanks has no army, but Landor does,” Elizabeth said. “Suppose we travel there and recruit them?”