Daughter of Moth (The Moth Saga, Book 4) (28 page)

Chains clamped around her
wrists, binding her arms behind her back. More chains hobbled her
ankles. The guards dragged her toward the wagon.

"Look at me, Timandra!"
Madori shouted as the guards lifted her. "Look at me and behold
your shame! I curse you in the name of darkness."

Smirking, the soldiers shoved
her into the cage. She thudded against the other Elorians, and the
cage door swung shut. The lock was bolted, sealing her within. Blood
dripped down her forehead, and she tugged at the door and bars, but
they wouldn't budge. The cage was so crowded she had no room to sit;
the Elorians pressed against one another like matches in a box.

The driver cracked his whip, and
the horses began to move, tugging the wagon out of the cloister. The
Radian students began to cheer, tossing mud and refuse onto the
wagon. An egg flew through the bars and cracked against Madori's
face. A rotten potato followed, spilling its liquid onto her. Every
student they passed shouted in mockery, and one tossed a stone; it
slammed into Madori's shoulder.

"Goodbye nightcrawlers!"
the students chanted. "Radian rises!"

As the wagon trundled across the
courtyard, Madori—covered in trash and blood—stared between the
bars, and all her rage drained away. Chained, beaten, broken, she
could only stare in stunned silence. Her eyes fell upon Tam and
Neekeya; her friends were standing among the crowd of Timandrians,
hugging each other, their faces pale and their eyes wide. Neekeya was
weeping and Tam was shouting something toward Madori, but she
couldn't make out his words.

She raised her eyes. Upon the
stage, rising from the crowd, stood Lari Serin. The princess pouted
mockingly at Madori, drew a fake tear down her cheek, and waved.

The wagon passed under the
archway, and the doors of Teel University slammed shut behind Madori,
forever sealing its secrets, knowledge, and magic.

 
 
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO:
GLASS AND STRAW

Cam stood in the rocky field,
military tents surrounding him, and stared dubiously at the
contraption.

"Are you sure this will
work?" he asked, hearing the doubt in his voice. "It looks
a little . . . wilted."

The camp bustled around him:
troops marching between tents, smoke rising from a hundred cooking
fires, swordsmen drilling in the dust, archers shooting at straw
targets, and squires polishing the armor of knights. They had been
camped here at Hornsford for several turns now, guarding the bridge
from Mageria. Even from here, a couple miles away, Cam could see the
tip of Sunmotte Citadel upon the western horizon.

You
muster there, Serin,
he thought, grimacing.
Twenty
thousand of your troops drill for war. Soon you will try to cross
Hornsford Bridge . . . and I'll be waiting.

He returned his eyes to the
contraption that swayed in the fields before him. The two
dojai—assassins and spies from the darkness of Eloria—called it a
hot air balloon. To Cam it looked more like a giant, half-inflated
sack of wine.

He turned toward the two dojai
who stood beside him. One was small, no larger than a child, clad in
tight black silk. Many daggers hung on belts across her chest,
throwing stars were strapped to her legs, and her large Elorian eyes
gleamed in the sunlight. The second stood seven feet tall, his chest
broad as a barrel, his long white hair flowing in the wind. His eyes,
though also large, were narrowed to mere slits, mimicking the line of
his mouth. A massive katana, large as a spear, hung across his back.

"Oh, you silly king!"
said Nitomi, the smaller of the pair. "Of course it's looking a
little wilted. It's not inflated yet! Once inflated it'll be the size
of ten elephants! If you skinned them, that is, and sewed their skin
together into a balloon." She tapped her chin. "Do you
think it would float though? You know, because elephant skin is
really thick and wrinkly, and besides, I like elephants and wouldn't
want to skin them. Do you have elephants in this army of yours? I
want to ride one! I rode a panther here—you know, we have lots of
those in Eloria—but an elephant! With the trunk and all. Do you
think their trunks can hold a sword? I can try to train one, maybe a
whole army of swordsman elephants—I mean, swordselephant elephants.
I mean—"

Beside her, the giant dojai
groaned and covered his ears. "Qato hurts."

Nitomi looked at her companion,
then slapped her palm over her mouth. She spoke between her fingers.
"I've gone and done it again, speaking too much. My mother
always told me: Nitomi, your mouth will fall right off. I've never
seen a mouth fall off before, but once I think I saw a lizard's tail
fall off, and—"

"Nitomi!" Cam said,
interrupting her. The only way to have a conversation with the little
dojai was to interrupt a lot. "Focus. The hot air balloon. Are
you sure you know how to fly it?"

Her face brightened. "Of
course I do! I've seen loads of hot air balloons! I—"

"
Seen
?"
Cam asked, grimacing.

She nodded, grinning, and hopped
around. "Oh yes, I've seen many paintings of them!"

Cam groaned. "Paintings?"

Nitomi nodded again. "Oh,
they're so beautiful. I used to look at them all the time as a little
girl. I can't wait to be in one myself! Hey, Cam, do you know how to
fly hot air balloons?"

He gripped his head. "Nitomi!
Idar's beard! You're the dojai here. You're the Elorian. You're the
one who brought the hot air balloon here all the way from Eloria. How
would I know how to fly it?"

She
placed her hands on her hips, raised her chin, and glared at him.
"Well, you're a king. You should really know these
spying
things, Camlin, especially since you intend to use this
spy
balloon to
spy
on the enemy. I mean, who do you think I am?"

"A spy!" he shouted.
"Isn't that what dojai are? Spies and assassins?"

She
looked down at her black silks, many daggers, throwing stars, and
grapple, then back up at him. Her eyes widened. "A
spy
!
That's what I am! Oh my, I did wonder why you brought me here. You
know, I always thought dojai were just sort of sneaky and quick, but
spying! That explains a lot." She turned toward Qato. "We're
spies, Qato!"

The giant Elorian groaned. "Qato
knows."

During the conversation, the hot
air balloon had continued to inflate. The fire burned inside the
basket, filling the balloon with more and more hot air. Soon the
basket began to float, ropes tethering it to the ground.

Quick as a gazelle, Nitomi
bounded into the basket and grinned. Qato followed, silent and grim;
the basket dipped several inches, brushing the ground.

"Come on, silly!"
Nitomi said, gesturing for Cam. "Step inside. We can't do all
the spying for you."

Cam groaned. "That's the
whole idea of me hiring spies."

Nitomi nodded vigorously. "And
see? We brought you a hot air balloon. We've earned our keep. And I'm
not flying without you! My mother always told me: Nitomi, if you ever
meet a king, you can't fly off in a hot air balloon without him!
Well, at least, I think she said that. She might have been talking
about how I'm full of hot air, and how I'm not supposed to talk so
much around a king, but I reckon I've already done a lot of that
around you, so it's too late, and now you have to fly with me."

Cam couldn't argue with that
logic. Sighing and rolling his eyes, he stepped into the basket and
untethered the ropes.

The hot air balloon began to
rise.

Cam leaned over the edge of the
basket. Every foot ascended revealed more of their camp. The tents
stretched out in rows. Between them, troops were drilling, sharpening
swords, cooking meals, standing guard, and all awaiting the
bloodshed. The balloon rose higher, revealing the edges of the camp:
horses in corrals, palisades of sharpened logs, women washing clothes
and pots in the river, engineers arguing over the construction of
trebuchets, and dozens of supply wagons traveling along the road
through the plains of Arden, bringing in supplies. Beyond the men
rolled the vastness of the world: fields of swaying grass, hills
speckled with boulders, copses of elms and birches, and the Red River
flowing across the land.

The
warriors of Arden, the bravest and strongest of their realm, are only
ants from up here,
Cam thought, the realization spinning his mind.
That's
all we are, insects bustling across the world. Viewed from far enough
above, the wars of men are no more significant than those of ants.

"We're
flying!" Nitomi's eyes widened. "Everything looks like toys
from up here, as if I can just reach down and pick them up."

The little dojai leaned over the
basket, reaching into the air, then yelped as she tilted over. Cam
had to grab the seat of her pants and tug her back into the basket.

Qato groaned and clutched his
belly. "Qato queasy."

Nitomi bustled about the basket,
tugging ropes and pulleys. Vents opened in the balloon, releasing
streams of hot air, propelling the vessel westward toward the
riverbank. Cam himself felt queasy as the basket tilted, the balloon
dragging it through the air, and he clutched the rim. Qato turned
green.

Only Nitomi remained
high-spirited. "It's like flying on a dragon!" She grinned.
"Did you know that Koyee and Torin flew on a dragon once?
Really, I saw it! Do you think they have hidden dragons in Timandra?
Do you think we'll see one? Do you think they have elephants here?"
She hopped about, rocking the basket. "Maybe it'll let us ride
it—the dragon, that is, if they have one—though I hope it's not
scared of this balloon, because when I was a little one, I saw a
floating lantern once, and I thought it was a ghost, and then—"

"Nitomi!" Cam grabbed
her. "We're sinking. Fly this thing!"

She gulped and nodded, tugging
more ropes and twisting knobs. Vents closed and more heat blasted
upward. The balloon began to ascend again, then veered westward. They
left the riverbank behind, floated above the Red River, and were soon
flying over the plains of Mageria. Hornsford Bridge seemed smaller
than a toy from up here, its towers no larger than wooden
counter-squares pieces. Further west, however, Sunmotte Citadel still
seemed forbidding, even from this high above. Its mote, double walls,
and guard towers shielded its inner core of many towers and banners.
It seemed to Cam almost as large as Kingswall.

But
Kingswall is a city of tradesmen, artists, thinkers, families,
he
thought.
This
citadel houses nothing but soldiers dedicated to destruction.

Myriads
of those soldiers stood outside the citadel, drilling in the fields:
swordsmen clad in black armor, riders upon horses, and mages in black
robes. Lines and lines of the troops stretched across the fields,
Radian banners rising among them. Most of the troops remained still,
maintaining their orderly rows. Only a handful bustled about,
pointing up at the balloon.

"Nitomi, take us a little
higher," Cam said.

She nodded, tugging more ropes
to seal the vents, then twisting knobs to release more heat. The
balloon ascended higher, hovering over the army below. A few Magerian
archers tugged back bowstrings, and arrows flew into the air. Cam
winced and caught his breath, but they were high enough; the arrows
reached their zenith below the basket and fell back downward.

Cam leaned over the basket,
frowning. "Only a handful of archers are firing. Only a few
soldiers are moving—mostly the ones on the perimeters." He
tilted his head. "Something is wrong here. Nitomi, take us a
little further west—over those lines of troops."

She nodded and the balloon moved
across the sky. They hovered over the lines of horses and swordsmen.
And yet the troops below stood frozen.

Nitomi opened a cylindrical case
which hung from her belt and pulled out a long instrument. It looked
like a leather scroll, but glass lenses sealed each of its ends. The
little dojai brought one lens to her eye, leaned over the basket, and
stared down. She gasped.

"Oh dear! They . . . Cam,
they're just frozen. Frozen like freezing ice frozen by freezing
spells!" She gulped, straightened, and handed him her
instrument. "Look."

Cam frowned at the cylinder.
"What is this tool?"

"A
scope!" Nitomi grinned. "We build them in the Dojai School
in the mountains. Nobody else in all of Moth knows about them, only
us spies. Well, I guess you know about them now too. But don't tell
anyone!" She growled and raised her fist. "It's supposed to
be a secret, but I've gone and talked too much again, and now you
know too, so you
have
to
promise
to be quiet, because if you tell anyone about scopes, I'd probably
have to kill you—the Dojai School demands it!—but I don't really
want to kill you, because I like you, almost as much as I like
elephants, so—"

He patted her shoulder; the
little woman seemed so agitated her eyes were dampening and her
cheeks flushing. "I won't tell," he said. "I'll just
look and return the scope to you."

Gently, he took the scope from
her hands, placed the lens against his eye, and looked downward. His
breath caught. He lowered the scope, raised it to his eye again, and
shook his head in amazement. This piece of Elorian ingenuity amazed
him as much as the hot air balloon. Staring through the scope, the
soldiers below seemed several times larger, so large he could make
out the Radian sigils upon their breastplates.

He frowned. "Something's
wrong."

Nitomi nodded. "I'd say a
massive army mustering right on our border is something wrong. Almost
as wrong as skinning elephants. I—"

"Not that." Cam stared
through the scope again, looking at the rows of swordsmen, horses,
and archers. "They're . . . dummies. Straw dummies. Thousands of
them."