Jon and Celenda by Michael E. Shea (novels to read .txt) 📖

>"Leigh now serves as the third advisor to the Danken. He is still in love with you."

"Why do I care if they wage war against the north?"

"Your father cared. He knew what would happen if Dan Trex's army marched against the north. Empires would crumble. Hundreds of thousands would die. The desert and the forests would bathe in blood. He plotted to stop this from happening."

"I don't care."

"Consider two other things. For one, you will be dead or selling your body on the streets in two months. Your coffers are dry. Your servants plot against you. Your cook keeps a small vile of powdered venom next to his spices to season your food the minute the mood fancies him. Your world is about to collapse and the only reason people still come here is to take what remains when you leave. If you do not come with me, you will die.

"Second, Severn betrayed your father and had him and your sister burned alive. Severn still walk, knowing what he did and not caring. I can help you expose him."

Celenda looked into this man's eyes. She remembered how strong and fast he had been the night before. She turned away.

"Leave me."

She heard the northerner turn and leave.

Celenda walked down the stone hall of her father's villa as frightened and off-balance as she had been arriving here eight days after she had watched her father and sister burn to death. Red sunlight shined through the tall open windows of the audience hall. No one had cleaned it since the feast the evening before and already she saw insects engaging in their own feast on the carcasses left behind.

Jon stood at one of these windows. He turned, his light blue eyes falling on her from within the shadow of the red sun. She lifted her chin but saw that her defiance meant nothing to him. He saw right through her.

"My father was innocent." It felt good to say the words. Men would kill her if they fell on the wrong ears.

"Yes," said Jon.

"Severn was responsible."

"He was involved in the plot that led to your father's execution. He was responsible."

"I will go with you," said Celenda. The words sent a chill through her when she spoke them. Jon's expression softened. He started to say something and then stopped.

"When do we leave?" asked Celenda.

Celenda was impressed. The carriage Jon had hired was luxurious, more than Celenda herself could have afforded. She reclined on a divan along one mahogany wall of the spacious cabin. Outside, two huge desert oxen pulled the carriage and supply carriage followed behind. Four small brown men, men born of the desert, drove the caravan speaking to each other and to Jon in a language Celenda did not understand. They prepared food and served Jon and Celenda throughout their travel but ate different food only once a day on their own.

The amount of money spent on this trip alone astonished Celenda. This was more than just one man's mission. As if reading her mind, Jon spoke.

"This is important, Celenda. You are important to us. The north will pay much to ensure you find out what we want to know."

Celenda looked at Jon, seeing the experience in the small lines around his eyes. He scared her. She turned and watched the dunes of the desert move slowly past. The huge red sun painted the sands crimson. Deep gorges cut into the ground like wounds from the steel edge of rivers now dried into dust. Mesas of red rock stood watch over the eternal desert like titans that walked the lands before men were a gleam in the eyes of the old Gods.

Celenda awoke one evening, the chilled wind of night blowing in the carriage windows. She peeked out and saw Jon sitting in his small camp on the top of a nearby dune, thin smoke rising from a rolled leaf he held in his hands. She heard the four carriage drivers singing in their strange tongue. One played a flute of thirty small barrels.

Celenda pulled on a silken shift over her bare skin and stepped out into the night on bare feet. Jon made no sign of hearing her approach but he did not stir when she spoke.

"What are they singing?" she asked.

"They sing to the titans under the earth. The Boda believe that great beasts once ruled over all of the world and we were but their servants. They warred with each other, turning forests to desert and mountains to sea. They grew tired and slept as the earth grew over them. Now the Boda sings to them to keep them asleep. They would be flayed apart in any city of the south for playing such a tune. The desert Daknen can stand no other gods but themselves."

"You fought in the war against the Voth?" asked Celenda.

"Yes."

"How did you find it so easy to kill them?" He looked back up at the red planet above.

"The Voth worshipped the beast-gods. They would sacrifice and perform rituals in their honor, hoping to call the beasts with virgin blood. Once, when the black moon set on top of the red world in the night, the Voth killed ten thousand men, women, and children on an alter in the south of their capital city. We found the bodies piled in mountains around the alter. After seeing that, killing the Voth was easy after that."

Celenda could only stare at Jon. He was unlike any other man she had met. He was mysterious and smart. He had seen things she would never dream of. She looked at his face and imagined him standing on a hill, cloak whipping in the wind, blue eyes piercing under the rim of his three-cornered leather hat, rain and mud running down his face, a bloody rapier in one hand, a smoking pistol in the other, and a thousand raging Voth barbarians below.

They sat in silence, each in their own thoughts of worlds moved on.

"If Severn finds out what I'm doing, will you let them kill me?"

Jon turned and looked at Celenda.

"No."

The carriage rolled on. Celenda watched as Jon slept. Once he tilted his three-cornered hat and peered out the window.

"What do you want me to do when we arrive?" asked Celenda. Jon turned and looked at her before answering.

"First we will introduce you back to Leigh. Then we want you to stay close to him and learn. Leigh is not a smart man. He is not known for his great strategy yet his advice to the Danken is remarkably sound. He knows things he should not and gives wise council when he has no wisdom of his own. Learn how he does this and learn of his plans."

"When I have learned what you want, what of me then?"

"Your world is your own. We can arrange for a noble seat in many cities in the south. We can re-introduce you to your cousin in Gazu Tevel. You can act as a southern ambassador and advisor to the north."

"And you?"

Jon shrugged. "I will continue to do what I have done."

Red clouds of dust rose from the slave pits of Gazu Kadem. They saw the clouds hours before they saw the city itself. Two deep pits, thousands of feet across and nearly a thousand feet deep lay outside the city itself. Half a million slaves carved into the rock seeking iron, coal, gold, and the treasures of the old city now buried underneath the sand and clay above.

The minerals and artifacts were only one profitable commodity. The slaves themselves were the other. Those strong enough to survive in the pits fetched the highest prices on the market. Those fierce enough to survive the brutality of the world below could serve in Dan Trex's slave army, the largest army on the planet.

Celenda looked east and saw Trex's citadel, Tog Saker, the Fortress of the Black Tree. Dan Trex had the largest arena in the south. Hundreds of thousands went to see his pit fighters battle. Celenda saw Trex himself once when she was a child. Her father had taken her to the pit fights that day. Dan Trex was huge. He wore a silver demon-skull helmet and black enameled armor with gold highlights. His sword, Hellsplitter, was nearly six feet long. He fought five large slave pit fighters, smashing open their skulls with his iron gauntlets and impaling them on his black and silver sword. He split the last one open from the top of his head halfway down his chest. Celenda had gotten sick.

She felt queasy now, seeing the citadel on the hazy horizon. Turning south she saw the tip of a pyramid that towered over the rest of the city of Gazu Kadem. She watched it grow as they got closer, the crimson sun shining off of its golden walls. It rose five hundred feet above the city. Her father had told her that it was over a thousand feet under the surface as well. Most of the twenty five hundred year old pyramid lay buried and forgotten.

They traveled through the noble's entrance on the northern wall of the city. Rich merchants sold the finest gems, jewelry, silks, exquisite spiced meats, and the strongest or most beautiful slaves for thousands of miles. Noble houses lined the streets guarded by stern house guards in bronze and steel.

The carriage pulled down a side road and stopped in front of a sandstone building. Jon dropped a small leather purse with the lead driver. The man smiled, bowed low, and left. Jon led Celenda inside.

The suite was quiet and elegant. Cotton and silk sheets covered the large feather bed. A servant boy brought bowls of fresh fruit and water. The lodge's proprietor seemed to know Jon. It was clear that Jon felt safe here and that made Celenda feel safe.

After seeing her to her rooms, Jon left.

"Your travel went well, I take it?"

"It did."

"Your Boda served you well, strong and reliable for so small a people."

"Indeed."

"Will she do what we need?"

"I don't know."

"You were quite confident before. What changed?"

"She is very young for this work. I don't think she has the proper skills."

"To lie to a man? To seduce him? Make him fall in love with her and spy upon him? She is a woman. What further skills would she need?"

"She doesn't know what is at stake."

"Perhaps it is better that she does not."

"Perhaps."

They spent three days at the suite before the invitation arrived. Jon disappeared for many hours each day, leaving her with a small purse of gold coins and a servant to escort her in the market. Celenda purchased dresses of whispering silk and jewels of violet. A gold clasp of a lion's head held back her thick hair. She spent one day in a spa, her skin softened and powdered, her hair washed, and her nails polished in deep lacquer.

THe invitation was penned on a sheet of virgin calf, thinned and hardened into a sheet. Jon broke the seal and inspected it briefly.

"Tomorrow we attend the Danken's Autumn Feast. Leigh will be there."

Jon's casual response to the invitation shocked Celenda. The Danken's Autumn feast was an event no lord, king, or noble would miss for fear of dishonor or death. The invitations were acknowledgments of nobility by the only one able to distinguish and recognize such nobility. Each invitation cost as much as ten lives in the slave pits but the cost of the words and the seal of the Danken were immeasurable.

Jon left Celenda the following afternoon with a hired body-servant to prepare