Chapter 8
It was noon the next day when the strangers arrived at the palace and were brought before Ul.
Not in the main hall where everyone in attendance could watch, but in his private chambers where he held more sensitive meetings.
Which meant the room was quite crowded with two strangers, three guards, himself, and his secretary.
The two strangers sat on the other side of the large wooden desk, facing him with wide, worried eyes.
They looked much like the humans who lived on the island.
Although the man’s hair was dark instead of fair, and his eyes were brown, not blue.
He was a curiosity and, according to the guards, had talked and tried to communicate the entire way to the palace.
The woman had the blonde hair and blue eyes he was used to seeing on humans.
And while they sat stiffly perched on the edge of their chairs, they appeared to be unharmed, as well as unarmed.
They also didn’t speak a word of Fellish.
Or any other language Ul was familiar with, including Tarikian, which was spoken by most of their trading partners.
All he, or anyone, knew were the humans’ names.
Their clothing was also strange, an ugly bright yellow shirt with silvery bands and blue pants also with silvery bands.
Dawson and Katrina both wore the same type of clothing. Was it a military uniform?
He wanted to ask about the box structure, but it was pointless as they didn’t understand him.
So there he sat in his crown and fancy cloak with the fur trim and thulite clasp, which had the benefit of both hiding his injured arm and keeping him warm, ready to deal with the strangers, and there was nothing to be done.
Dawson frowned. He had bowed as if recognizing that Ul was the king, and had talked, introducing himself and Katrina, but like everyone else in the room, he was now silent. He glanced at the guards behind him as if worried about being in trouble, then pointed at the paper on the desk.
Ul nodded, and Ifer passed Dawson a square of paper and a stick of charcoal, which had been wrapped in cloth to keep his fingers clean. Dawson ran his fingertips over the paper and made a comment to Katrina, who also touched it and passed comment.
It irked him that he didn’t understand what they were saying.
Dawson drew a couple of boxes on legs, which Ul recognized, and then he drew a blob around the boxes. He glanced at Ul and pointed at the blob.
After a couple of heartbeats, Dawson drew some wiggles around the blob and tapped the blob.
“Do you think he is asking what the name of the island is?” Ul asked Ifer.
“If that’s not what he wants to know, I am not sure what he is trying to say. Shall I point to the map?”
“Please.”
Ifer walked over to the wall where a map of Felloi hung. He even pointed to the palace. Dawson nodded and tapped his blob.
“Felloi,” Ul said, pointing at the map on the wall.
“Felloi?” Dawson repeated. He tapped the wiggles around the blob. “North Sea.”
“That must be the name of the ocean in his language. We cannot spend the rest of the day drawing pictures and pointing at them. I think it best we end this here until we have learned their language,” Ul said.
“How would you like to proceed, Sire?” Ifer returned to standing a step behind him and to the side.
It was a job he should pass to others, but he didn’t want secondhand information. He wanted to be able to speak with the new humans and learn who they were and why their boxes had arrived on his island. “I will have Dawson follow me around.”
The man’s eyebrows pinched together at the mention of his name.
Ul gave him a gentle smile to convey that he meant no harm.
“And the other one?” Ifer asked without using her name.
There was no point in assigning her to Ifer, as Ifer spent most of his time following him around.
If he could find out what jobs they did, it would be easier to decide.
He pointed at his crown, remembering to use his good arm.
“King.” Then Ifer, who held a slate tablet to write instructions on, as the words could be erased and the slate reused many times.
The rough bark paper could only be brushed clean so many times, and it was inconvenient to carry around.
“Secretary.” He pointed at the guard. “Guard.” Finally, he pointed at Dawson.
Dawson’s expression remained pinched for several heartbeats. He spoke to Katrina, and she shrugged and responded, her expression just as confused.
“Painter,” Dawson waved his hand up and down.
“Medic,” Katrina said as she mimed winding something around her arm, before pointing at him.
Ul sucked in a breath. “Did she mime winding a bandage around her arm?”
“Given that she is now pointing at you, I believe so, sire,” Ifer murmured.
Ul had taken pains to hide his arm from the strangers, clearly not well enough.
“I do not think she means harm…perhaps she is a healer?”
“I had already considered that,” Ul said dryly. “And…the other one?”
“No idea. I will send her to follow the healer and have him follow you? I will ensure they are both guarded at all times.”
“Very good. Show them to the tower. Ensure they are fed, and bathed, and given something warm to wear.” He didn’t want the human to give a negative report.
The guards urged Dawson and Katrina up and to follow. Dawson glanced back at him, his dark eyes holding the same confusion as he asked questions no one could answer.
Not yet anyway, but he wanted to understand his words and smooth the worry from between his brows. It had been years since he’d run his tentacles through someone’s hair and felt their skin beneath his suckers and their moans in his ear.
He blinked and turned away from the departing humans. Dawson was a curiosity and a temptation, and he had time for neither.