Read Princess Electra Page 7

"You are quite sure no one suspects Electra’s identity?"

  "None of Dagon’s men suspect. Of that I am fairly certain. Some of our own men saw Electra and me brought in together as prisoners. They may have guessed. Soon after Dagon questioned us we were separated." Avor looked at the warm berry pie at the end of the table and rubbed his full stomach. "I am sure none of Dagon's men recognized me. It was fortunate we left the horses behind because they would have recognized their insignia. Without the connection to me they would never guess Electra's identity."

  "I am afraid it is too late to keep your homecoming a secret, but as long as we receive no demands for ransom, Electra is probably safe. Do you think Dagon’s men might harm her?" King Geoffrey asked in a low voice, glancing at the Queen.

  "We were treated better than the other captives because they weren't sure what to make of us. I doubt they believed Electra's soothsayer story, though."

  "What a clever girl she must be," Delphinia said. "Was she anxious to meet us?"

  Avor's face turned rosy red and he looked out the window. "Assuredly, though her attachment to Serafina was quite strong."

  "Serafina. How horrible to die as she did," Delphinia said. "But her story about keeping Electra safe all these years, waiting for us to come to take her home—it makes no sense. I believe she must have lost her sanity. Perhaps she was already ill when she took Electra."

  Geoffrey looked doubtful as he listened to Delphinia but seemed disinclined to comment. He patted Delphinia’s hand thoughtfully.

  Avor decided not to worry his parents further by telling them of Serafina’s attempts on his life. The woman was dead now and likely she had been insane as his mother believed. He decided to wait as well on telling them Electra’s real reason for coming to Fernland—to accuse the King and Queen of killing her mother. After all, Electra had kept Avor’s identity from Dagon. She must have felt some sort of family loyalty.

  Avor smiled at his parents as he basked in the warmth of his homecoming and considered how he might change his father’s mind about allowing him to join the army.

  Chapter 23

  Kingdom of Fernland

  Serafina was sleeping on the floor wrapped in her black cloak when Take arrived at nightfall. She awoke and sat up abruptly. Her eyes narrowed as she noticed the corner of a small canvass jutting out from a hole in his tunic.

  "What news have you?" she asked.

  "The talk is all of Prince Avor’s escape from a cave where he was imprisoned along with the soldiers sent to guard the bridge. Dagon and his militia burned the bridge early this morning. It looks as if King Geoffrey plans to draft an army to go and wipe Helsop from the map."

  "Any talk of Electra?"

  "Nothing specific, but there are rumors that Prince Avor’s absence these many weeks were spent trying to find her. And," he paused dramatically, "that there is some girl among Dagon’s prisoners."

  "Where is this cave Avor escaped from?" Serafina asked.

  "I don’t know, but they were able to stuff all of Geoffrey’s men and Avor as well into it. Oh, and here’s the best part." Take smiled as he continued. "There were bear cubs in the cave and it was the mother bear that dug them out."

  "I see you have brought a gift," Serafina said.

  Take’s hand jumped to cover the canvasses concealed in his tunic. His hasty action dislodged one of the little canvasses and it fell to the floor. His face turned red, then defiant.

  "You forgot people would ask for tickets when I told them about the play."

  "You could have told them admission would be paid at the gate," Serafina said.

  "They wanted tickets," Take said stubbornly.

  "And what was your plan for the money you collected?"

  "Why…to share it with you, of course," he said.

  "Of course," Serafina said. She stood up, gathered her belonging into a black bag, and looked outside.

  "Are you going out?" Take asked.

  Serafina didn’t answer. She pulled her dark cloak around her and left quickly. The cave Take described had been a favorite place for gathering mushrooms when she was a child. It was a long, narrow cave, often used as a den by the black bears that roamed the forest. It seemed a good place to begin her search for Electra.

  Serafina made her way quickly in the dark. After sixteen years little had changed in the forest she knew so well. As she neared the cave she changed direction to circle around it.

  Someone was speaking softly. She moved closer and listened.

  "It's silly, us freezin' our toes off in the dark. Dagon is long gone and ‘is stragglers with 'im."

  "Orders is orders, 'Enry."

  "You don't 'ave to tell me. It's me life, ain't it? What 'bout that other lot, down at the river next ta their gear? Are they still layin' in wait as well?"

  "Far as I know. Orders is they’re ta’ stay put."

  "Orders. Right. Don't make it any less silly though."

  Serafina backed away silently and headed for the river. When she was close she began to follow a course parallel to the water, watching carefully for any of the King's Guard. She walked gently, testing each step for noise before setting down her foot.

  She almost laughed when she heard the sound of snoring up ahead. Approaching cautiously she saw a soldier stretched out under a tree next to the abandoned tents and supplies left by Dagon’s militia. Something in the sound of the snoring aroused her curiosity. She listened for a minute. Something in the rhythm. Then it struck her. The soldier was feigning sleep. She crouched down and waited. An hour went by. Finally the soldier sat up and whispered to the tree above.

  "Yer turn, Smitty. It's too cold layin' here."

  "It's no picnic up here neither. Just wait another couple a’ hours. As soon as the sun comes up we can leave."

  "What about all their gear?"

  "We get ta’ split it up among ourselves, 'cepting the crystal ball. That goes to the King."

  "Well that's somethin' then. At least we're the closest, we'll get first pick. Don't want no spooky crystal ball noways."

  "Bart's got that t'other side a' the clearin' so don't worry about it. Now get back to sleepin'."

  "Fat chance in this 'ere bed."

  Serafina slipped away quietly to the other side of the clearing. She passed two more sleeping decoys along the way. You would think they would know more than one trick, she mused as she settled to watch and wait.

  The sleeping soldier sat up with a jerk. He rubbed his eyes and looked about anxiously. He quickly rolled over and felt under an exposed root. He lifted out the crystal ball, checked it over, then placed it back under the root and lay back down.

  Fell into a real sleep, did you? Serafina smiled as she inched her way around to the tree, keeping out of view from above. It took only a second to reach under the root and scoop up the round object. She placed the crystal ball in her bag and turned north. It was a four day journey to Helsop.

  Chapter 24

  Road to Helsop

  Dagon’s group kept on toward Helsop the first night, moving quickly over well-worn trails and the morning of the second day staying away from trails where Geoffrey’s men might overtake them. It was slow and difficult traveling through the thick foliage. By mid-day they were exhausted. Dagon called a halt and sent Deimos ahead to find a sheltered place to camp. He sent Otto back along the route they had traveled to find out if they were being pursued by Geoffrey’s soldiers.

  Dagon checked his own wounded soldiers first. Two had sword cuts that appeared to be infected. One of the prisoners had a broken arm. Electra walked toward Dagon with her arms full of herbs.

  "If I had water and a small fire I could treat the infections. I will need help to set the broken arm."

  Dagon looked surprised. "You are a healer?" he asked.

  "I know something of herbs and their uses," she said.

  "Where did you learn this?" he asked. "No, forget I asked. I’ll take you at your word. I do not want to hear more about the mythical land of Amorate. I wo
uld be in your debt for whatever help you can give."

  Dagon heard rustling in the foliage ahead of them and drew his sword. Deimos came through, smiling, with a deer carcass slung over his shoulders.

  "I’ve found a place by a spring up ahead," he said, "and I’ve found lunch as well."

  The tired soldiers perked up a bit at the sight of the deer. They got to their feet and walked the last mile to an idyllic spot in the forest. A spring bubbled out of a rocky crevice and spilled into a little pool of clear water. Circling the spring was a flat grassy area perfect for sleeping. Deimos quickly had a small fire going and other soldiers hastened to make a spit from branches to cook the venison.

  Electra found a small vessel among their meager stores and was soon brewing herbs for a poultice to fight infection. She and Dagon worked together to straighten and set the broken arm of the frightened prisoner. The meat was cooked and ready to eat when Otto caught up to them.

  "I could find no trace of soldiers pursuing us," he said. I circled back to the highway and there were no signs any riders had been through."

  "Likely they chose to stay with their plan of setting traps instead," Dagon said. He seemed disappointed that Geoffrey’s soldiers were not in pursuit.

  They gathered round their small fire to cut strips of venison from the spit. Before long, with full stomachs and tired bodies, most were sound asleep.

  Dagon sat cross-legged, shielding his eyes from the sun and felt the afternoon warmth seeping into his body.

  "I had hoped that our taking of the bridge would provoke an action on Geoffrey’s part," he said to Deimos, who lay half-asleep beside him. "We must show Blackwell he needs Helsop’s aid to defend against Geoffrey. It is the only way Blackwell will loosen his tight fist enough to keep Helsop from starvation. It seems the burned bridge was not enough to spur Geoffrey to send his soldiers into battle against us."

  "We have eight of his men," Deimos said. "Maybe we’ll see some ransom money from that."

  "But he has six more of ours, and I daresay we will miss our six more than he will miss his eight."

  "Aye, it’s a bitter pill to return with nothing to show for it," Deimos agreed.

  "The fortunes of war," Dagon said. "It might have gone more in our favor. It is better to try something than just sit and starve. At least we’re alive to fight another day."

  Dagon saw Electra talking to one of the prisoners. He got up and walked toward her.

  "I do not want you conspiring with the enemy," he said.

  "Am I then no longer the enemy?" she asked.

  "I am not sure what you are," he said, "but a healer is always welcome. Get some sleep while you can. We’ll be traveling through the night again tonight."

  He handed her his blanket and waited until she chose a spot close to the spring to lie down. After checking the bonds of the prisoners to make sure they were secure, he sank down into a grassy spot and closed his eyes, instantly asleep.

  Chapter 25

  Kingdom of Fernland

  The thief sat on the floor of the shack surrounded by his little painted canvasses.

  "I should have been an artist," he said, smiling at his creation.

  He carefully painted a tiny harem dancer at the top of each ticket. He knew the tickets would sell easily. He would price them according to the clothes his customers wore. Higher prices would be for better seats if anyone questioned his pricing. He scheduled the date of the show for three weeks hence to be sure his getaway bridge would be finished in time for his escape. He hummed a tune as he worked.

  "There's a batch done," he said as he rose and donned his dervish costume.

  Everything was falling into place. The King had announced that the bridge to the South would be rebuilt within a fortnight. Serafina had left the day before without a word. Take dared to hope he had seen the last of her. The thief hurried along beside the castle wall to the marketplace. He spotted the meat vendor and the meat vendor spotted him.

  "Wha 'appened Mate? Ya never come back, did ya?" the vendor said.

  "Got run down by the King's Guard, didn't I? Had ta' give me leg a bit of a rest."

  "Got me tickets, have ya?"

  "That I have and I'm looking forward to that fine bit of beef we agreed to."

  The meat vendor sliced off a large chunk of beef as the thief laid two tickets down on the table. The vendor looked at the tickets as the thief bit hungrily into the meat.

  "Nice touch that, the 'arem dancer. It don't say where the show's ta' be on the ticket."

  The thief almost choked on his beef. What a thing to forget! When he finished coughing he said, "Why, at the castle grounds, of course. Right outside the gate. We'll have banners all over by then and a parade of harem dancers to lead you right to the spot. No worry about that, Mate.”

  The vendor appeared to be mollified by the thief's assurances. "Best go a bit easy on that beef, Mate. Don’t want ya’ chockin’ here at me stand."

  The thief sucked in his breath and waved as he fell back in with the market day crowd. He headed toward the toy stand as he finished off his beef. The toy vendor saw him in the crowd and called out loudly. The thief rushed to the toy stand.

  "Wha' 'appened,” the vendor cried, "Ya took me paints an' never came back. What're ya pulllin' here?"

  "Run down by the King's Guard, I was. I've been this long on the mend. But here I've come with your tickets, haven't I?" The thief plunked down two tickets with a flourish. "And now for the bit of drawing a crowd. Watch this!"

  The thief began to whirl, slowly at first, finding his balance. He turned faster, feeling the skirts of his costume flying out around him. People began to stop and watch. He sang out for all to hear.

  "Come one and all. Gather round. Here's toys for the children and a stupendous show for your grown up selves. It's the spectacle of a lifetime. See the harem dancers. See the great sheiks. See the mystical rites of the fabled lands of Araby. Never 'afore seen outside the desert kingdoms. See the dances that have driven men insane. One performance only. Come one, come all."

  People clapped as he spun and reached into their pockets for coins when he stopped to catch his breath. Within a few minutes the thief had sold all his tickets and cursed himself for not making more.

  "Tomorrow," he called. More tickets go on sale tomorrow." He bought more canvasses from the toy vendor and headed back to the stockyards.

  As he neared the shack he heard horses approaching from behind. A member of the king's guard drew up beside him and dismounted. The long line of forlorn men behind him stopped as well.

  The palace guardsman looked suspiciously at Take’s costume. "What kind of get up is that you’re wearing?" he asked.

  The thief began to perspire, hoping he had not been recognized as an escaped prisoner. "An actor, only an actor," he said, trying to recapture some of his former bravado, "Here to do a show. Free tickets for any of the distinguished Royal Guard such as yourself."

  The guardsman smiled without warmth and said, "The show's been postponed. You have the honor of serving the King." Holding up his hand, the Guard continued, "You are hereby officially drafted into the army of King Geoffrey to serve in time of crises and imminent threat to his Majesty's kingdom. Fall in line, soldier."

  The thief looked past the horses of the King's Guard to the long line of draftees that waited with downcast faces. The guardsman gave him a shove in the direction of the line. "Don't get any ideas of deserting. The penalty for that is death."

  The thief stuffed his package of little canvasses into his tunic, and walked quickly to the end of the line.

  Chapter 26

  Village of Helsop

  Electra woke up to find herself in a bed for the first time in many nights. The whitewashed walls of the room were bare and bright. A cold wind blew in through the open window. She was in Dagon's country of Helsop now. They arrived in the night and she had been left with no explanations in this one room cottage. She knew Dagon appreciated her care of his wounded soldiers.
Perhaps the bed was his way of thanking her. The door to the cottage opened and a small dusty face peered in at her.

  "You a healer Lady?" the boy asked.

  Electra smiled at him. "Are you ill?"

  "Me? No." The boy rubbed the bottom of his bare foot against his leg. "Someone else. Will you come with me?"

  Electra looked for her clothes, then realized she was still wearing them. She pulled off her bed covers and hugged herself against the cold.

  "Who are you?" she asked.

  "Timor, son of Olaf."

  "Timor. I see. Well, Timor, I am in a strange situation here and I am not sure I can go with you."

  "Dagon says I can take you."

  "Ah, you know Dagon then."

  "Everybody knows Dagon. He's our Headman."

  Electra rubbed the sleep from her eyes and splashed a little cold water on her face from a bucket near the bed. She found her grass basket of herbs and potions under the bed.

  "Timor, son of Olaf," she said ruffling his hair, "I do not know if I'll be any help but let us go and see."

  They walked out into a bright, chilly morning. Electra saw that the little cottage she had been given was one of the best. Signs of poverty surrounded them—children dressed in rags, houses without doors or windows, thin listless old folks staring out from their porches with sad eyes. Starving dogs roamed the streets looking for bits of garbage.

  "Who are we going to see?" Electra asked.

  "My mother, Isa." Timor hesitated, "And my brother."

  Timor led her to a large building with peeling paint and a sign that said 'Clinic.' She followed him inside. Cots lined either side on the rectangular room. All were filled with patients.

  "Where's the village healer?" Electra asked.

  "He died," Timor said.

  Electra followed Timor to a cot where a woman lay next to a newborn baby. She opened her eyes and stared at Electra. "My mother," Timor said.

  Electra touched her forehead and felt her fever.

  "Timor, you can be my assistant," Electra said as she rummaged through her basket of herbs.

  By evening Electra was exhausted. She had done what she could for the patients at the clinic, helping herself to the meager medical supplies in the cupboards. A tired midwife called Inga had joined her mid-morning. She had slept late after helping Timor's mother deliver her baby the night before, but the extra sleep had done nothing to erase the heavy lines around her eyes.