Read Princess Electra Book 2 Out of Barburee Page 7


  "I doubt a woman, even a sorceress, could deter the Great Khan," King Geoffrey said.

  "She has continued her study of the black arts to this day," Electra continued. "I believe she might put on a demonstration that would deter one prone to superstition."

  Prince Avor quenched a shudder with a defiant face.

  "I do not want you asking favors of Serafina," Delphinia said.

  "Nor do I," Avor said.

  "It is hardly a favor if it is in Henge's best interest," Electra insisted.

  A page stepped into the room to announce the Captain of the Guard.

  "Your Majesty," the Captain said, bowing.

  "What is it?" Geoffrey demanded.

  "The Barburee contingent is leaving, Your Highness. They wish to express their thanks for your hospitality and their wishes for your good health."

  The king turned to Delphinia, shaking his head. "I have little hope for this plan's success. It is dangerous and it involves Serafina. Something I would normally avoid at all costs. Yet if it results in delaying the arrival of the Great Khan's army..."

  Delphinia stared at her family, twisting a handkerchief in her hands. "So be it," she said, softly.

  "Go quickly, Electra," Geoffrey looked down at the departing caravan. "Say anything you think will delay the army coming, but try not to promise more than is necessary to accomplish that. We will fill in the remainder of the plan later."

  Electra rushed to the door.

  "And Electra," the king called out.

  Electra paused and looked back.

  King Geoffrey looked as though he wanted to go with her, then slumped back on the bed. "Just..., be careful."

  Chapter 18

  Kingdom of Fernland

  When Electra reached Bataar, he was handing a message to Twenty Quivers. Twenty Quivers folded the message without reading it and and placed it in a pouch on his horse's saddle.

  "Father good?" Bataar asked.

  "Yes, he is fine now. I would like to speak to you." Electra turned to Twenty Quivers and said, "Could you delay one more minute before you begin your long journey? I need to have a word with Bataar."

  Twenty Quivers bowed graciously.

  Electra took Bataar's hand and walked a few steps away with him. "Father has told me of your proposal. I am very surprised and honored. Your present wife must be a kind and generous woman."

  Bataar seemed interested in her comments. "Wife good girl. You like."

  "I'm sure I will. Since we are now to be married, I feel I should tell you of a threat we seldom acknowledge here in Fernland."

  "Threat? What mean word?"

  "Threat? It means a danger, something to fear," Electra said.

  Bataar nodded. "Tell threat."

  "A powerful sorceress is now Queen of Henge. She is said to be in control of the army. I believe we should go to Henge to find out the strength of her sorcery before bringing your army here."

  "Great Khan's army," Bataar clarified. "You want go Henge? See sorceress?"

  "I think you should not call for the army until we do."

  Bataar thought about what Electra had said for a moment. "Tell Twenty Quivers."

  They turned back to where Twenty Quivers waited by his horse.

  Electra explained the same threat to Twenty Quivers and decided to add a few more details.

  "I have seen her bend men's minds to do her bidding. I saw her escape restraints. She brought Henge's army to Helsop's aid against Prince Blackwell's wishes. She is much feared by those who know her."

  Twenty Quivers spoke to Bataar in the Barburee language for several minutes. Bataar shrugged his shoulders and Twenty Quivers pulled out a quill and ink from his saddle pouch. He sat down on a fallen tree to write a message. He read the message to Bataar who nodded and said a few more words. Electra had no idea what they were saying to one another. Twenty Quivers pulled out the first message from his saddle pouch and tore it up, letting the pieces fall to the ground. He replaced it with the new message. He then mounted his horse and yelled a command to the other Barburee men.

  Bataar waved as the caravan headed for Barburee.

  "You go see sorceress?" Bataar asked.

  "Yes, I will go with you," Electra said.

  "She try kill you?"

  "No, she is an ally to Helsop. She helped defeat Fernland's army," Electra decided this put her too firmly in Serafina's camp. "Of course this was before the alliance between Helsop and Fernland," she added.

  "Ally to Dagon," Bataar said.

  "Yes," Electra said, wondering where this complex trail of events would lead in Bataar's thinking. "But she is also a friend to me."

  "Why friend to you?" Bataar asked.

  Electra felt she was walking into a maze. She could think of no reason why Serafina would be her friend other than the truth. And the truth was that Serafina had been her mother for sixteen years.

  "I don't know," she said.

  "We go Henge, see sorceress." Bataar whistled for his horse. "Leave now?"

  "I'll just go and tell Father." Electra ran off before Bataar could suggest they go together to see her father.

  Running up the stairs to her parent's bed chamber, Electra passed Muller on his way down.

  "Good luck. I believe I have managed to delay the army," she said, as Muller ran to catch up to the departing caravan.

  "Good work." He bounded down the stairs three at a time.

  She opened the door to the royal bed chamber and found her family huddled around the window, watching as the caravan began its long trek to the east.

  "I believe I was able to persuade him," Electra said to the leaning backs of her family.

  They all jumped at the sound of her voice and turned around quickly.

  "Bataar has called off the army?' Geoffrey asked.

  "He has agreed to go with me to Henge to see the sorceress. Twenty Quivers tore up the first message and wrote another after speaking to Bataar about Henge and its sorceress queen. That bodes well, I believe."

  "But he did not say words to that effect. Nothing about specifically calling off the army?" Geoffrey asked.

  "No. He is a man of few words. At least when it comes to speaking in our tongue."

  "And... what did you have to promise to secure this reprieve?" Gregory asked.

  "I told him I was honored by his proposal of marriage. I told him I would introduce him to the sorceress. I told him this would be safe as she was an ally of Helsop. I told him she was very powerful and hinted that it might be a mistake to go against her."

  "I don't like the idea of your going to Henge," Geoffrey said.

  "Surely he could go alone," Delphinia said. "Prince Blackwell would not be foolish enough to harm an ambassador from Barburee."

  "Were he to go without me, Serafina would likely treat him with respect, as an ambassador to Henge. I was rather hoping to convince her a display of her witchcraft might be more to Henge's advantage in the long term."

  "We could send a note to Serafina written by you," Geoffrey said to Electra. "If a messenger left now he could reach Henge before Bataar and his men."

  "I have told Bataar I would accompany him. Even now, he likely grows restless, awaiting my return to begin the journey." Electra spread her open palms in a gesture of inevitability. She could not change plans now. It would look suspicious.

  "Perhaps you have caught King Geoffrey's illness and are unable to go," Delphinia's handkerchief was twisted to tatters.

  "In the few minutes I've been gone?" Electra asked.

  "This is dreadful." Delphinia seemed near tears. "I see nothing to protect you from Prince Blackwell should he decide to take you prisoner."

  "I am only now bethroved to Bataar. It would be an affront to Barburee if Blackwell took me prisoner."

  "That is so" King Geoffrey said. "I had not considered that."

  "I must get a message to Dagon. A warning at the very least." Electra moved to the do
or. "And I must join Bataar. There is no other course."

  "While you write the message I will call for a messenger," Geoffrey said.

  "And I will ready the royal carriage," Delphinia said. "If you must go, you will travel as a princess of Fernland. But I assure you I will have no rest until you are safely back in Fernland."

  Electra decided this was not a good time to remind her mother that her home was now in Helsop. She rushed out to pack what she would need for the journey, composing her note to Dagon in her mind.

  Chapter 19

  Village of Helsop

  Dagon left the soldiers' mess tent at dusk and found himself walking toward the clinic. He stopped, realizing he had been on his way to visit Electra. It had become a habit over the winter for him to stop by the clinic to talk to her and share the day's events. Sometimes he would bring a plate of food from the mess tent to share with her. It startled him to realize how accustomed he had become to this evening ritual. And if he were to be completely honest, he would have to admit that he missed not only the evening ritual—he missed Electra.

  At first Electra had seemed a child to him. When Deimos had suggested Dagon propose marriage, it appeared a far-fetched solution to Helsop's desperate situation. But he determined to give it a try—what did he have to lose? When Electra had accepted his proposal and followed that with a plan to secure an alliance with Fernland, he could hardly believe it. That the plan had actually worked was tantamount to a miracle. All of Helsop was ecstatic and just as Dagon had hoped, his village was finally beginning to prosper. They all owed Electra a great debt of gratitude.

  But these new feelings were of a more personal nature. He missed her, not just for Helsop's sake, but for his own sake. How did one court a young woman who prized independence above all else? He might very well drive her away if he pressed a case for marriage. She seemed content to stay engaged indefinitely. He kicked a rock aside with the toe of his boot. There must be a key to Electra's heart, and if he was patient, he would find it, he decided. As he turned down the row of huts to his own house, he noticed the candle still burning beside the blacksmith's forge.

  "Dorian," he called out as he walked past the forge into the shed beside it. "How goes the sword making?"

  "Come, sit." Dorian waved him into the shed. He sat cross-legged on the dirt floor, drinking a cup of tea. "It has been a long day. I can't keep up with my orders."

  Dagon sat down on the dirt across from him and Dorian called out to his son to bring another cup of tea. Tandor stepped out of the shadows into the candlelight with a steaming cup which he handed to Dagon.

  "What news have you from Fernland?" Dorian asked.

  "None, directly," Dagon said. "I have heard from traders that Electra arrived there safely, in time to help her mother greet the Barburee ambassadors. There was some talk of a magic show and a spectacular archery demonstration."

  Dorian grunted. "Nothing good comes out of Barburee."

  "Do you expect Electra back soon?" Tandor asked.

  Tandor had been assigned the job of keeping Electra safe during her many forays into the forest in search of medicinal herbs. He had not as yet succeeded in his attempts to follow her undetected, but had set it as a challenge he was anxious to master.

  "I don't know what to expect," Dagon replied. "This is the first time Queen Delphinia has been successful in luring her back for a visit."

  Dorian raised his eyebrows as he sipped his tea. "Do you think she might extend her stay?"

  Dagon knew all of Helsop feared an end to their new wave of prosperity should anything disrupt the trade alliance with King Geoffrey, who had agreed to it only for the sake of his captured son, Avor. Dagon answered carefully.

  "Electra is quite devoted to her work in the clinic. I believe she will return as soon as she is able."

  Dagon could see that Dorian was not convinced there was no cause for worry, and was grateful when Dorian chose not to pursue the matter.

  "What do you make of this visit to Fernland from Barburee?" Dorian asked.

  "If they follow their usual pattern, it means they are sizing up Fernland's defenses in preparation for an attack." Dagon stated what was obvious to all.

  "Fernland's a far piece from Barburee," Dorian mused.

  "There is that," Dagon agreed.

  "Does our alliance with Fernland say we'll fight with them if they are attacked?" Tandor asked.

  Both men looked at the youth, surprised he did not see what was obvious to them. Dagon answered the question.

  "No, but we might as well, as we'd be next in line."

  Dorian lit a new candle in the flickering flame of the burned out one before him and snugged it into the melted wax. "Perhaps I should refuse any more orders for swords until we have stockpiled a few for Helsop."

  "That may not be a bad idea."

  A moving shadow outside the shed drew their attention. Deimos, Dagon's friend and Helsop's second in command, stepped into the dim circle of candlelight and saluted.

  "Sorry to interrupt." He waved the men who followed him into the shed. Two of Helsop's militia pushed their bound captives in front of them to stand in the light. The captives looked foreign in their dress and their bearing. They wore dark tunics, cone-shaped hats and boots that curved at the toes.

  "These two were taken entering your house at dusk" Deimos reported. "They tell us nothing, but they speak to one another in a language foreign to us. We found these hidden in their waistbands." Deimos held up two long curved knives, each sharpened to a fine edge.

  Dagon and Dorian stood up to inspect the weapons. Dorian took a craftsman's interest in the well-made knives, turning them one way and another, testing the sharpness of the blade, the strength of the metal, the balance and weight.

  "Blades out of Barburee, I'd venture."

  Dagon took a quick look at the knives and turned his attention to the captives. His countenance took on a dangerous expression. "Entering at dusk with hidden knives? This appears to be something other than a social visit."

  Chapter 20

  Village of Helsop

  Dagon walked closer to the captives. They were short but muscular with square faces and high, prominent cheek bones. Their hair and eyes were dark. Both were dressed in thick dark robes, trimmed with fur. The robes were belted with wide strips of red silk around the waist. Their hats were woven in tight fitting yarns that came to a high point and dipped forward at the top. Their boots were lined with fur. Both men spoke easily to one another in their own language as Dagon studied them.

  "Who are you?" Dagon asked.

  Neither man looked at him.

  Dagon looked away from them and stood a little to one side.

  "Barburee?" he said, turning.

  He caught the fleeting recognition of the word in their eyes before they looked away.

  Dagon, his hand cupping his chin, turned to Deimos. "They were going into my living quarters?"

  "Yes. A child playing at hiding from his friend saw them earlier standing in reeds near the river and told his father. By the time we arrived at the spot it was dark and they were gone. We caught them by chance as we passed your house. They were crawling through a back window. We have men searching for their horses. They must have ridden in on horseback."

  "Put them in the stockade and keep a close watch. Increase our patrols. Find out if any of the traders passing through have even a slight knowledge of the Barburee language. Then report back to me. I will be at my living quarters. Dagon turned to Dorian and Tandor shaking his head.

  "Could they be spies?" Dorian asked.

  "I don't think spies would take such a risk. They would more likely stay outside the village, noting the positions of our sentries and armaments."

  "Assassins then?"

  "More likely."

  "I suppose it makes sense to take out the headman of our militia," Dorian said.

  "Something about this business is odd," Dagon said.
"I have no reputation as a great general, nor does Helsop have a reputation as a military powerhouse. Quite the opposite, I fear. Indeed, it would make more sense for them to kidnap you. At least you have a reputation as a master sword maker."

  Dorian looked surprised and a bit worried by Dagon's words. He managed a smile.

  "Perhaps if I concentrate on swords for Helsop, my reputation will fade in the minds of would-be abductors."

  Dagon returned his smile. "No chance of that. Your swords have long since spread your worth."

  Tandor stepped forward. "Shall I report for duty?"

  Dagon considered for a moment. "Yes. Follow Deimos and request an assignment."

  The two men left Dorian stirring the embers in the forge as they left in opposite directions.

  Dagon circled his small house before going inside. They had forced the shutter open, probably with one of their knives. It was too dark to make out their footprints. As he entered the house by the front door he could see nothing out of place. He pulled back the curtain and found his cot as he had left it. There was nothing of value in the house. Even the trunk full of clothes had accompanied Electra when she left for Fernland.

  The only conclusion that fit the facts was that the men were there to capture or kill him. They no doubt planned to wait inside and overpower him as he walked through the door. But how had they known which house was his? They may have had his description. No, they did not even need that. They would know he was the headman since he was the one who manned the militia command post. They could have watched at midday as he walked from the command post to his house to drop off the seedlings his sister, Isa, had brought to him. Somehow they knew they had the right house. Even in Barburee, he was certain no one entered through a back window just to talk, especially when they did not speak the language.

  Dagon sat on a chair next to the small table where he, Electra and Queen Delphinia had eaten a cozy supper only days before. They had been sitting here when news of the Barburee ambassadors reached them. And now, assassins from Barburee appeared in Helsop. He should have received some word from Electra by now. It seemed the answers to his questions all lay in Fernland.

  His thoughts were disrupted by the sounds of galloping horses. Horses coming from two directions. Was Helsop under attack? He grabbed his sword and flung open the door. A cloud of dust and shouting men swirled around him. When the dust cloud settled he could make out the red and gold uniform of King Geoffrey's royal guard atop a heaving, mud-spattered black stallion. The soldier wearing Fernland's uniform reined in his horse and held his hands away from his sword.