The Ring of Winter - James Lowder [81]
Artus bowed his head, for this could only be King Osaw. "Your Highness " he said. "I do know of the man who allied himself with the goblins. He commands a spirit with four arms and silver skin."
When Artus looked up, he saw that Negus Kwalu now stood at his father's side. He no longer wore his purple tobe, but a simple breechcloth. A small, square breastplate of dinosaur hide covered his chest, with the tails of six exotic hunting cats cascading down his back. Manes cut from other wild beasts made up the long, stringy cuffs that hung from his calves to his ankles. Black and white feathers jutted out from his helmet at all angles. The prince studied Artus with an unnervingly steady gaze, not a hint of expression on his rugged features.
"If this man allies with the Batiri, he is the same as the things that stalk the dark corners of Ubtao's jungle at night," King Osaw began softly. He studied Artus's face for a moment, then added, "Will you help us to rescue the bara?"
"Of course, Your Highness," Artus replied. "I will tell you anything I can about Kaverin and the silver spirit."
King Osaw nodded, then turned to Sanda and Kwalu, issuing orders in a low tone. When the king was done speaking, he left the circle of warriors and made his way back into the temple. The men who had been using the canvas to shield Lugg from the sun now made it a stretcher for the wounded wombat.
"Don't forget," Lugg said to Artus as he was hefted off the ground. "You promised to save 'im."
"I won't forget," Artus murmured, though he had his doubts there would be anything left of Byrt if they found the Batiri. Kaverin would keep Rayburton alive-at least until he learned what he could about Mezro and the Ring of Winter-but the little gray wombat could only offer cheerful, but inane comments. Kaverin's probably killed him already, Artus decided sadly.
Sanda gestured toward the Residential Quarter. "Kwalu went to get your bow and knife," she said.
"Wait," Artus said, "where are we going?"
"To talk to Ras T'fima," Sanda said. "The Batiri captured Kwalu a few weeks ago, when he was on a hunt far from the city. My father and I raided their camp. Anyway, T'fima was the one who provided the blizzard that gave us cover." She looked away, nervously plucking at one of her braids. "I hope he'll help us again."
"Wouldn't it be easier to go after the Batiri with an army?" Artus asked.
Sanda shook her head emphatically. "The goblins are spread out, but there are many more of them than there are Mezroan soldiers. Besides, we disbanded the army years ago. There was really no need for us to maintain one. People like Kwalu keep the military arts alive, of course, but mostly on a theoretical battlefield." She scanned the plaza, impatient for the negus's return. "That's why we're going to ask for T'fima's help," Sanda added absently. "His magic is worth more than a thousand soldiers."
Artus ran a hand through his hair, which was damp with sweat from walking to the plaza. "T'fima must be some sorcerer to whip up a blizzard in this type of heat," he said. "Wait. Let me guess. He's a bara, right? Two thousand years old?"
"Fifteen hundred years," Sanda said, smiling at Artus's exasperation. "The same as King Osaw, though T'fima was younger than the king when he was chosen by Ubtao."
A slight twinge of disappointment crept into Artus's thoughts; secretly he had hoped to find T'fima had used the Ring of Winter to make it snow, "Yes, well, King Osaw did look like he'd lived through a rainy season or two," Artus noted archly. "How old was Osaw when he became a bara?"
Sanda lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Eighty-five, but don't let that fool you. He's had a gaggle of children over the years-Kwalu