Chapter Sixteen—Mar’a Thulian on the Urmia

The carriage stopped, shaking Debaku in his seat slightly. He waited for the coachman to open the door. “This is the place,” the man said. He was one of Shai’na’s, ordered to take Debaku to this spot upriver on the Urmia that cut a path through the whole of Darshuun.

Stepping over the wrapped weapons inside the carriage, he got out and glanced around. The moon was shining full and bright and the breeze on his skin was cool.

He turned and grabbed the wrapped up weapons and set them on the ground with a clank of metal sounds coming from within.

“I have done my part,” the coachman said. “Good luck, Mar’a Thulian.”

Debaku nodded up to the man in the driver’s seat. He lashed the reigns. The horses whinnied and moved forward, clopping along as the wagon trundling noisily on the rough ground.

As soon as the sounds receded, Debaku turned and breathed in deeply amidst the rustling of the turtlenut fronds in the breeze. Crickets chirped, and there were no other noises except perhaps the sound of a fish breaking the surface of the water.

Here on the bank of the river, the turtlenut trees formed a thick cops. Green slime and lily pads covered the water’s surface near the muddy embankment.

It must get these weapons to the palace.

Bending down, he picked up the wrap. The swords, along with a pair of daggers, and some other weapons, were heavy, but not encumbering. Debaku had wrapped them in cloth, tied it, and then wrapped the bundle in a net, tying that down as well. From the net he lashed a rope of fifteen paces or so.

On the end of the rope was a large wooden toggle that would float in the water, in case he had need to let go of the tether—then he would be able to find it again.

On the shore, there was a small boat with oars hidden in the reeds. Debaku approached it, glancing about for any signs of river lizards. Attacks by these large creatures were often fatal, though for Debaku, he could outmaneuver any attempt by the beasts.

He preferred not to give the lizards the shance. These creatures were not monsters, but further down the river in the southern jungles, the river lizards there were indeed monstrous in quality, worthy of an adventurer’s caution.

He set the weapons down in the boat.

Wearing black pantaloons and sandals, along with a black doublet with a low neckline, it would be difficult for any to see Debaku as he travelled across the river in a darkly stained and lacquered boat. Which was indeed ideal for his purposes.

He had never imagined killing the sultan. The very same sultan who had ordered the conquest of Mar’a Thul, making slaves of many of his people. It was an ironic justice that now he would take part in the evil leader’s end, though not for reasons of revenge. He had never been after revenge.

This… this is for Shiro and his Jinni.

Though in truth, Shiro and the Jinni were not bonded. Shiro had never told him so much, but he had deduced the fact, since Jessamine was indeed the rumored jinni to be bonded to the sultan.

He pushed the small vessel off the shore, his sandals sinking in the thick mud beneath the water. As he got into the boat, he shook his feet under the water to wash away the excess mud that had lodged underneath his sandals. With soft splashing, he paddled the boat forward with the oar.

The Mar’a Thulian top-tier adventurer moved swiftly—or what could be considered swiftly in this boat—and he was near silent. Once he got far enough down river, he could leave the boat behind and swim the narrow canal that cut into the outer gardens of the palace, dragging the weapons along as he went.

From there, he could sneak across the gardens and deliver the weapons to his friends, hopefully who were standing watch in chambers facing the extensive gardens where he would emerge, like some wild monster, to deliver the tools necessary to kill Darius al Hassarani.

So far Debaku had said not a word about his inclinations, or disinclinations concerning the matter. An old part of him, at one time, thought he wanted revenge, to personally smite the sultan and to watch the light leave his eyes, as his conquest of Mar’a Thul was what caused Debaku to lose his tribe and family and to later become a slave.

But had those events not happened, he would never have met his dear friend, Archaemenes. But it was because of his jinni companion that Debaku was able to cast off the chains of his oppressors and become an adventurer.

Had Archaemenes been able to tell him, he would suggest that Debaku never have met him in favor of living out his life with his family and tribe.

But that was not to be—could not be.

In truth, whatever animosity the Black Cobra of Mar’a Thul held for the sultan, it was a thing deep down—that came from a man he no longer recognized.

But for Shiro and Archaemenes’ jinni kin, Debaku would help in ending Darius.

Thinking such thoughts, he glanced about the night, at the pale reflection across the smooth river waters, and paddled harder upstream.