Far-Seer

Kaden rose to her feet. “You are Dybo?” she said to Afsan’s friend.

“I am.”

No change in his muzzle color, either. One of the other hunters nodded and whispered to a companion, “I had heard the prince was of a mighty girth.”

“And you’ve been away on a water voyage, you say? Aboard the Dasheter?”

“That’s right,” both Afsan and Dybo said in unison. “A pilgrimage.”

“Then you don’t know, do you?” said Kaden.

“Know what?” asked Dybo.

“It pains me to have to tell you, good sir,” said the hunt leader, “but we were visited by a newsrider only last even-night. Her Luminance, Empress Len-Lends, died a short time ago.”

“My mother?” said Dybo. “Dead?”

“Yes,” said Kaden. “A landquake in Capital City, apparently. Part of a roof collapsed. I understand it was a swift death.”

Dybo’s tail twitched. Afsan, too, felt pangs of sadness. He’d been too much in awe of his friend’s mother to really say that he had liked her, but he had certainly admired all she had done for the people.

“It also means,” said Kaden, bowing low, her tail lifting from the ground as she did so, “that you, good Dybo, are now Emperor of the Land, ruler of all eight provinces and of the Fifty Packs.”

Even gorged as they were, other members of the hunting party managed to make it to their feet, bowing their respect. “Long live Emperor Dybo!” shouted one, and soon, the same cry went up from every throat. “Long live Emperor Dybo!”

*23*

Lub-Kaden and a couple of her hunters returned with Afsan and Dybo to the beach near where the Dasheter was anchored. Afsan could see two shore boats, one heading out to the mighty sailing ship, the other coming from it back to the beach. It seemed that the Dasheter was not yet ready to depart.

On the beach were several passengers and crewmembers from the Dasheter, including Captain Var-Keenir. Keenir was obviously deep in thought. He’d been pacing back and forth along the beach, but with his regenerated tail swishing in such a wide arc behind him that it erased his footprints from the black basaltic sands.

Also present was a party of riders: a semi-ten of Quintaglios and their green bipedal running beasts. It quickly developed that Keenir and some of the others had run into this group out on the open lava plains that ran between the three forests that led away from this beach.

The running beasts had round bodies, lengthy necks, horizontally held tails, and legs that had elongated final segments to increase their strides. Their eyes were huge and round, and, rather than the solid black of Quintaglio orbs, they were a rippling gold with vertical oval pupils. The heads were tiny, making the eyes seem even bigger, and ended in drawn-out toothless beaks.

Hunter Kaden repeated her news about the Empress, and Dybo’s ascendancy. It was quickly agreed that he should return to Capital City as soon as possible.

“The Dasheter won’t be ready for another three or four days,” said Keenir, whose pacing had stopped but whose tail, the regenerated part almost a chartreuse in the brilliant afternoon sun, still swished in the sand. “Katood has found a couple of leaks. I have a party collecting gaolok sap now so that we can seal the offending portions of the hull. And we’ll need provisions. Plus, of course, the crew is fatigued after our long voyage. They need some more time to run and hunt before we set sail again.” Keenir turned his head in a way that made it clear that his dark eyes couldn’t possibly be looking at Afsan. “We’ve already had one mate go berserk. I won’t risk losing another.”

One of the hunters who had come with Kaden spoke up. “There’s another ship, the Nasfedeter, moored not far from here, at Halporn, a port just over the border in Fra’toolar province. It’s a cargo vessel, carrying a shipment of new fishing equipment, ordered by someone at the palace.” Few Quintaglios were partial to fish, but they were often fed to domesticated animals. “It sets sail for the Capital next even-day.”

“I’ll go with it, then,” said Dybo, already adopting a decisive nature. “Afsan, you’ll come with me.”

“With the Emperor’s indulgence,” said Afsan, bowing deeply, “there are some errands I wish to run here on the western shore. Would you give me leave to do so?”

Dybo wrinkled his muzzle. “Of course, friend. I’ll see you in the Capital… when?”

“Two or three hundred days. I’ll probably take a land caravan back, perhaps meet up with my old Pack, Carno, for a visit.” He paused. “I’m sure you’ll have plenty to keep you busy at court.”

“Very well,” said Dybo, and he bowed the bow of friendship at Afsan.

“It’ll be tight getting to Halporn before the Nasfedeter sails,” said Kaden, looking up at the sun to gauge the time of day. “You had best leave now, Emperor Dybo.”

“My things—”

“I’ll see to it that they get packed up, Dybo,” said Keenir, “and returned to you when the Dasheter arrives back at Capital City.”