The Wave Speaker: Prelude to the Powers of Amur by J.S. Bangs

Author:J.S. Bangs [Bangs, J.S.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2016-02-21T05:00:00+00:00

Patara woke before Ashturma stirred, and long before he expected Thikritu and Vaija to recover from the drunkenness of the night before. With the pale blue dawn washing away the night mist, he rinsed his face in cold water and set out into the empty city streets.

The streets sounded with the bleating of sheep, the muttering of housewives, and the chanting of dhorsha performing the dawn rites in the temples of Ashti and Jakhur. The citadel was visible from every point in the city, and Patara took whatever route through the streets led towards it.

The wide wooden doors of the citadel were closed when he reached them, but a pair of men stood outside them with spears in their hands. They wore simple white dhotis hanging low about their knees, but across their chests they had red sashes decorated with the spear of Am. So these were the Red Men that Patara had heard so much about. This was the first time he had actually seen one.

When approached one of them called out, “Halt. What’s your business?”

“I wish to speak to your captain,” Patara said humbly.

“At this hour of the morning?”

“At the first hour in which he is free. I’m sure that he is much sought after, and I wouldn’t disturb him during the brighter hours of the day.”

“You better give us a good reason, then.”

“I have information about a woman sought by the Red Men. With a bounty.”

A glance passed between the Red Men. One shrugged and said, “I’ll send a message in.”

The soldier knocked on the gate, and a brief conversation followed, which concluded with an escort leading Patara through the citadel into a small room with a table and an unlit oil lamp on a chain in the corner. Here he waited, growing impatient but trying desperately to hide it, until at last the captain entered.

Like the guards at the gates, he wore a plain white dhoti, but with a scarlet kurta that had the spears of Am stitched onto its sleeves. He nodded at Patara, and Patara bowed deeply.

“You’re know something about a woman?” the captain asked. “Say it quickly.”

“My Captain,” Patara said, “My name is Amabhu Patara of Davrakhanda, and I am the captain of a sailing vessel. We were returning from Kalignas when we were caught up in a storm. During the storm we pulled a woman out of the sea who claimed to have escaped from the colony of thikratta at Davrakhanda. I found out that she was pursued by the Red Men, and that there was a bounty offered for her. And so I’ve come to you.”

“Where is this woman?” the captain asked. “Here?”

“No, not here,” Patara said. “Alas, we went aground in Dasnaya—”

“I do not know where Dasnaya is,” the captain snapped. “We only marched into this city a few weeks ago.”

“Then, my Captain, we are in similar straits, since I normally sail into Davrakhanda, and would not have known of the village of Dasnaya if I had not been forced to row there with my men after our mast broke.

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