Winter had begun giving way to spring, and in Alasiri, that meant rain. The daily precipitation saturated the ground and turned the roads to mud, making even the shortest trip a tedious slog. The gravel-paved streets of Sendai did not fare much better. The unusually heavy rainfall soon overwhelmed the network of channels and gutters that normally kept the city from flooding.
Another soggy, gloomy day , Jelena thought as she made her way through mid-afternoon traffic enroute to Sateyuka’s house. She took special care to detour around the many pools of standing water, acutely aware that one misstep could send her crashing to the slick ground. Wrapped from head to toe in a gray wool cloak, scarf, slouchy hat, and gloves, she traveled in complete anonymity. If anyone happened to glance at her, she would look like just another pregnant hikui woman.
In Sateyuka’s peaceful home, Jelena could shed the persona of royal princess and just be herself. She treasured the quiet, private time she spent with her friend.
Sateyuka greeted Jelena at the door with an affectionate kiss on the cheek, then helped her guest to remove her heavy outerwear.
“Go on into the sitting room and thaw out! Your skin is like ice,” she exclaimed. “I’ll just take these wet things into the kitchen to dry.” Jelena did as instructed and with a heartfelt sigh, she lowered herself awkwardly onto the couch before the fireplace and stretched her feet toward the flames.
“Oh, here, let me help you get your boots off,” Sateyuka offered as she entered the room, a heavily laden tray in her hands.
“No, please, Sateyuka. You don’t have to do that!” Jelena protested as her friend went to her knees and grabbed a foot.
“Don’t be silly, girl. How else are you going to get these off, eh? Big as you are? When’s the last time you saw your own feet?”
Jelena giggled. “It has been awhile. I’ll be seeing them soon, though. My doctor says the baby can come any time now.”
“By the look of you, she’ll be a big baby. There, now… Doesn’t that feel better?” Sateyuka placed Jelena’s boots on the hearth. The smell of steaming leather filled the small room.
“Ahhhh,” Jelena sighed. “That does feel nice.”
“I have your favorite,” Sateyuka sang. She brought the tray over to where Jelena reclined and set it down on a small table. “How the confectioner was able to find lemons at this time of year… well, I just don’t know, but here they are.”
“Sateyuka, you are too good to me.” Jelena smiled and bit into the crisp little ball of pastry. The sweet-tart taste of lemon burst delightfully on her tongue.
“Nonsense! You’re like a daughter to me. You should know that by now.”
“I do,” Jelena replied. “That day I first saw you in the marketplace, I knew I had to follow you and find out who you were. It was as if the gods, or the Goddess, wanted us to meet.”
“She knew you’d need a special place-a haven-where you could escape the unique pressures of your life.”
“I know you’re my friend, Sateyuka, but sometimes, I feel guilty coming here. To Jokimichi, I mean. I’ve been living in my father’s house for almost a year now, and still, nothing has changed for the hikui people. They’re still denied equality under the law-a law my father can change, yet does not! I get so angry at times…with him, with my uncle…with all okui. Every day, I see how the hikui servants are treated at the castle, and I can’t help but wonder if, secretly, they resent me because I have all the rights and privileges of a full-blooded elf.”
Sateyuka set down her teacup and patted Jelena’s hand. “My dear, I can’t speak for all the hikui of Sendai, but I can tell you what many of my friends and neighbors are saying about Princess Jelena. They say the princess is kind, loving, and gracious… a young woman of exceptional character. Jelena, our people love you, and want only the best for you. They view you as a symbol of hope for all hikui.”
“I can’t help but feel I’ve let all hikui down.” Jelena stared morosely into the dark green depths of her tea. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be the symbol of hope for an entire group of people-the burden seemed too enormous.
“You’ve done no such thing, sweet girl. No reasonable person expects you to change, single-handedly, an unjust system that’s been in place since Alasiri has been a nation. You don’t realize the enormous value of you simply being who you are. In the short time you’ve been living in Sendai, the attitudes of the okui are starting to change. Oh, it’s subtle, but it’s real. I can feel it, and so can others.”
“How do you mean?” Jelena asked.
“I overheard two okui merchants talking in the market the other day. One actually wondered aloud whether it seemed fair to continue to deny hikui artisans membership in the guilds when so many of them were as skilled, or more so, than their okui counterparts. It may not sound like much, but it’s definitely a start.”
Jelena massaged her belly and closed her eyes, focusing her thoughts inward on her soon-to-be born daughter, Hatora. Most okui mothers could touch the minds of their children while they floated safe in the womb, but Jelena had yet to feel the consciousness of her own baby. Disappointed at first, she had soon become resigned to it, though she still tried from time to time.
“I pray that when my daughter is my age, she will live in a different world than we do, Sateyuka.”
“I pray for that also.”
Without warning, a sharp pain rippled across Jelena’s belly. She grunted in surprise.
“What is it?” Sateyuka came to the edge of her chair.
“I’m not sure,” Jelena said slowly. “I’ve never experienced labor before, so I don’t quite know what to expect. It felt like a labor pain…I think.” She screwed up her face in concentration, focusing on the sensations of her body.
Yes, something most definitely feels different!
“Jelena, if you’re starting your labor, you can’t walk back up the hill to the castle alone. I’ll come with you.” Sateyuka rose to her feet. “Let’s get your boots back on now.”
“Nothing’s going to happen for hours, Sateyuka. I’m sure I can get home on my own. Please don’t put yourself out.”
“Stop it right now. Of course I’m coming with you, and I’ll have no more arguments!”
Jelena shut up and allowed her friend to help her to her feet and into her still-damp boots. She waited by the front door while Sateyuka went to fetch their outerwear. As she waited, another ripple of pain coursed through her. She groaned through gritted teeth, clutching the door post for support.
No doubt about what’s happening now!
“You’re having another cramp,” Sateyuka stated as she emerged from the back of her house carrying Jelena’s things, a dusky purple cloak thrown over her own heavy dress. Jelena nodded, feeling a little light-headed from the pain. Sateyuka helped her don her cloak, then threw open the front door and grabbed Jelena’s arm. “Hold on tight and lean on me if you need to. Let’s get you home.”
Mercifully, the rain had stopped, though gray clouds still scudded overhead. A cold, wet breeze splattered droplets against their cloaks as they walked. No one paid any attention to them, for which Jelena was thankful. Once, an elderly well-dressed okui man-rushing along with an air of importance-collided with Sateyuka, knocking her backward.
“Watch where you’re going, clumsy hikui!” the man growled as he swept past.
Jelena stifled the urge to yell out a retort. “So much for changing attitudes!” she commented ruefully.
“I said the changes were subtle,” Sateyuka replied, smiling. “How are you doing?”
“Fine, so far. No more pains…yet.”
Jelena’s body spared her any further contractions until just before she and Sateyuka passed through the outer gates of the castle complex. Jelena leaned heavily on her friend until the spasm subsided. She gulped several deep breaths and managed a weak smile. “If it hurts like this now, I don’t know how I’m going to stand it when things really get going!” she said.
“You’ll do just fine, sweet girl. Let’s go, now.”
The guards standing to either side of the massive portals snapped to attention when the two women came into view. Recognizing the king’s daughter, they allowed her and Sateyuka to pass through unchallenged, as did the guards at the inner gates.
“I’d be honored if you would attend me, Sateyuka. I was planning to ask you before now, but I didn’t expect Hatora to come today!”
“I’m the one who’s honored, but are you sure? You must already have many women to attend you as well as your doctor. Perhaps I’d only get in the way.” Sateyuka gave Jelena’s hand a squeeze.
“I want you with me,” Jelena replied, “but if you can’t, I’ll understand. I know you have your own business and family to attend to, and they need you more than I do.”
“If you want me with you, then I’ll stay. I must send a message to my daughter, though, so she knows where I am.”
“Yes, of course.”
In truth, Jelena would have many attendants during the birth, but besides Eikko, none would be hikui. And though she considered Eikko a friend, Jelena wanted the presence of another hikui who was not also a servant.
The two friends walked through the main entrance of the castle, the crisp snap of the guards’ salute echoing off the stone as they passed. Jelena led the way through the quiet, elegant halls toward her apartments. As they walked, Sateyuka stared about her, wide eyed. Seeing her friend’s awe brought back Jelena’s own memories of her first days spent within these walls, before she knew for sure she belonged here.
Jelena paused just outside the doors to her private quarters.
“I’m surprised to see no guards here,” Sateyuka commented.
“My father tried posting some, but I kept sending them away. I finally convinced him there’s simply no need. I’m just not that important.”
“Jelena, that’s not true,” Sateyuka chided. “To your family, especially…”
Jelena smiled. “All I meant is that I’m not important politically. Welcome to my home, dear friend. I should have invited you here long ago. Please forgive me?”
“There’s nothing to forgive, sweet girl,” Sateyuka replied.
Jelena pushed open the doors, calling out a greeting as she did so. Eikko came scurrying from the back room, a little breathless, as usual.
“I didn’t expect you back so soon, Highness. I was just getting…Oh!” Eikko halted in mid-sentence upon catching sight of a stranger accompanying her mistress.
“Eikko, this is my friend Sateyuka the weaver, the one I visit down in Jokimichi,” Jelena explained. “Sateyuka, this is Eikko, my companion.” Jelena refused to call Eikko her servant.
“H…How do you do?” Eikko stammered, clearly a little flustered. “Highness, if I’d known you were bringing a guest, I’d have tidied up a little better and ordered some tea from the kitchen! I…”
“Don’t worry about that, child,” Sateyuka interjected soothingly. “We have much more important business to attend to right now. The princess has begun her labor.”
Eikko gulped, then let out a little squeak. Her eyes widened in so comic a fashion that both Jelena and Sateyuka burst out laughing. At that precise moment, Jelena realized, for the first time since she had learned of Ashinji’s death, she felt truly happy again.
“Summon a messenger, Eikko. Sateyuka must get word to her family that she’s staying with me and…Oh, yes! Send word to Sonoe and my mother-in-law.”
“Yes, Highness! Ohhhh, this is so exciting!” the young hikui girl squealed.
Jelena felt serene, strong, and unafraid of the ordeal to come .
Soon, I will hold you in my arms, Hatora. Any amount of pain will be worth enduring because I’m bringing you into the world.
Jelena had finally accepted Ashinji’s death, but despite what she knew to be true, she had yet to lose a sense of connectedness to him. Her soul still felt joined to the unique spiritual essence that had defined Ashinji as a person, so much so, that she could almost believe he still lived.
Jelena steadfastly clung to that connection-the only thing that had kept her sane during the long, terrible winter.
Another pain caught her by surprise, wringing a startled cry from her lips. A gush of warm liquid sluiced down her legs to puddle on the matting beneath her feet.
“I think my daughter’s coming very soon!” she gasped.
“Come with me now, my dear. Let’s get you undressed.” Sateyuka took her by the elbow and steered her toward the bedchamber. Jelena allowed Sateyuka to help her strip down to her shift, then sat on the edge of the bed while her friend massaged her back. The pain gradually subsided.
Jelena chuckled as she brushed a stray coil of sweat-dampened hair from her face. “Hatora wants to be born before anyone is ready for her. Do you think my daughter will always be so headstrong?”
“Your daughter will possess all of the best qualities of both her parents,” Sateyuka replied, smiling. “I never got to meet your Ashinji, but I feel as if I know him from all that you’ve told me. He would be proud of you.”
Yes, he would, Jelena thought.
“Now, Princess! Push hard!”
Gritting her teeth, Jelena bore down and delivered her daughter into the waiting hands of the doctor. Exhausted after hours of labor, she relaxed into the mound of pillows piled at her back and let her mind drift.
For a while, the world dissolved into a soft blur. The angry wail of her newborn daughter and the delighted cries of the women surrounding her floated through her consciousness like clouds across the summer sky. She saw Ashinji, standing before her, his head cocked as if listening for something. The sensation of his presence felt so strong, she cried out to him.
“Jelena, wake up… It’s time to meet your daughter.”
Jelena raised her head and found herself tucked into bed. “I must have fallen asleep,” she murmured. She struggled to sit up and Eikko came forward to adjust the pillows. Some time between the birth and now, she had been washed and dressed in a clean shift. A wad of absorbent padding had been tucked between her legs to catch the last of the birth fluids.
She felt weary to her bones, but the sight of the doctor, standing beside the bed, holding a blanket-wrapped bundle, caused all weariness to vanish in a flash. Eagerly, she held out her arms.
At the first sight of her child’s face, Jelena gave in to tears. She could already see Hatora had inherited all of her father’s beauty.
Oh, Ashi, I wish that you could see our daughter and hold her in your arms!
“It’s time to give your daughter her first feeding, Princess,” the doctor said. “Here, let me help you.” She pulled open the loose neck of Jelena’s shift. “Just lay her head against your breast…Very good…That’s it…let her take the nipple…”
Jelena marveled at the strength a healthy suckling newborn could exert on a breast. The sensation felt a little uncomfortable at first, but as she got used to it, a contented pleasure settled over her.
“Where is she? Where is my granddaughter!”
Sen’s booming voice preceded his arrival at the bedchamber door.
“Sen, she’s my granddaughter, too, you know!”
Jelena smiled at her father’s exasperated reply.
“Your Majesty, Lord Sakehera, please come in,” the doctor called out.
Keizo swept through the door, Sen hard on his heels. Eikko and Sateyuka immediately dropped into low bows. Sonoe remained sitting at Jelena’s side, one hand stroking the new mother’s hair. Amara stood and beckoned with a wave of her hand.
“Come and see your granddaughter, the two of you!” she said. As both men approached the bed, the blast of male energy rolling before them made Jelena dizzy. Keizo bent down and kissed his daughter’s forehead.
“Well done, my girl. Well done.” He gazed proudly at the nursing baby. “She’s an Onjara, no doubt about it. Just look her!”
“Hah!” Sen exclaimed. “She looks like a Sakehera, my old friend!”
“Both of you are arrogant fools; Hatora is barely out of her mother’s belly! She doesn’t look like much of anything, except a wrinkled little plum,” Amara scolded.
“The birth went well, your Majesty,” the doctor said.
“How are you feeling, Jelena my dear?” Sen asked, his face alight with joy.
“Tired, but happy,” Jelena answered. “I think Hatora’s going to look more like Ashi than me. At least I hope so.”
Sen blinked back tears. “Finding you was my son’s greatest fortune.”
“Two new grandchildren in the space of a month!” the king exclaimed. Misune had given birth to her son just four weeks previously. “You must be bursting with pride, eh, Sen?”
“Oh, yes,” Sen replied. “‘Course, my son Sadaiyo has been preening like a damn peacock! He has every right, though, ‘cause my grandson is perfect!”
“Enough, you men. Jelena needs her rest!” Amara chided. “You can come back later.”
Keizo laid a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Come along, old friend. I believe we’ve been dismissed. We’ll go back to my apartments and drink a toast.”
With much congratulatory back-slapping, Sen and the king departed.
“Hmmph…You’d think they were the ones who’d birthed this baby!” Amara sniffed, but her eyes brimmed with affection.
“Well, that’s it for now. I’ll be on my way as well.” The doctor bustled around, collecting her things. “Lady Amara, please make sure the princess takes a draught from this bottle later tonight. It’s a combination tonic and cleanser. It will help her to eliminate any residue left over from the birth.” The doctor handed Amara a small glass vial. “Mix ten drops in a half-glass of sweet wine and a little water.” She turned to Eikko. “Change your mistress’ padding just before you go to bed, then again four hours later. I’ll be round first thing tomorrow morning to check on mother and child.”
“I’ll see to it,” Sonoe volunteered.
Amara nodded and handed her the vial. “You’ll stay the night with her, Sonoe?”
“Yes, of course,” Sonoe replied. “You go on to bed, if you wish.”
“It has been a long day,” Amara said. “I still have to see to my other daughters, though, before I can rest.” She bent over to kiss Jelena’s cheek. “Sleep well, dear. Come, Doctor. I will see you out.”
After Amara and the doctor had left, Jelena relaxed back into the pillows and allowed Sonoe to place the now satiated and sleeping baby in the intricately carved wooden cradle by the bedside. The cradle had been a gift from Prince Raidan, and had come as a complete surprise. Jelena never expected anything from her aloof uncle, and his gesture had raised her hopes that someday, she might have a warmer relationship with him.
“Jelena,” Sateyuka called out softly. Jelena opened her eyes with a start, realizing she must have dozed off again.
“Oh, Sateyuka! I’m sorry! I know it’s late. You’re welcome to stay the night, of course.”
“Thank you, my dear.”
“Everyone must be famished,” Jelena murmured. The sudden hunger pangs roiling her stomach surprised her.
“I’ll send down to the kitchen for some food,” Eikko said and bustled from the room.
“I’ll sleep in here with you and the baby tonight, Jelena,” Sonoe said. “The weaver can sleep in the sitting room.”
Jelena knew she should be annoyed at Sonoe’s high-handedness, but she was just too tired. “I want both my best friends with me tonight, Sonoe. Sateyuka can stay in my bedchamber.”
“Jelena, I don’t wish to cause any inconvenience…” Sateyuka protested, but Jelena cut her off.
“It’s already settled. Eikko can make you up a pallet by the window.” Sonoe’s eyes narrowed and her lips tightened, betraying her irritation, but Jelena chose to ignore it.
Sonoe will just have to deal with it!
“I think I’ll rest now. Wake me when the food arrives.”
“Of course,” Sonoe murmured, bending over to kiss her lightly on the cheek.
As Jelena drifted off to sleep, the image of Ashinji once again appeared before her mind’s eye. For an instant, he seemed so real, Jelena tried to touch him, but then he vanished, lost to her once again. She dreamt no more of him that night.
Sonoe waited until everyone else in the room had fallen asleep before she acted. Silently, she slipped from Jelena’s bed and moved to neutralize the two hikui. She gazed with contempt at the hikui weaver lying unconscious at her feet. The servant girl, Eikko lay sprawled by the door, also unconscious. Neither hikui knew what had hit them, nor would they remember anything when they awoke.
With a wave of her hand and a quick, whispered incantation, she warded the bedchamber door.
Now, I can work uninterrupted, she thought. Her hand crept up to touch the place where the stone-the power focus linking her consciousness to his-lay hidden beneath her robe. It felt warm, beyond what ordinary body heat would make it, a sure sign that one of his creatures lurked nearby.
I don’t have much time until one of his infernal birds shows up…I must get in and out before then.
She prodded the weaver in the ribs with her toe. The woman lay unmoving. Sonoe nodded in satisfaction.
She climbed back into the bed, carefully maneuvering Jelena so the girl’s shoulders rested in her lap. She then laid her hands on either side of Jelena’s forehead and closed her eyes. With great care, she extended her consciousness down through the layers of Jelena’s mind.
Fresh memories of Hatora’s birth lingered at the surface. Sonoe flashed by, ignoring them. Deeper in, a memory of Ashinji Sakehera-fresh, and recorded in the part of Jelena’s mind that registered visual images-caught her attention.
How very strange, Sonoe thought. Jelena’s husband is dead. She can’t have seen him-not recently, anyway. Interesting puzzle, but I’ve no time to solve it just now. She plunged deeper, pushing toward the pulsing blue light lodged at the core of Jelena’s being.
She stopped short of the cunningly wrought barrier that had so painfully stymied her during her last deep probe of Jelena’s mind. This was what she had come to examine.
Delicately, she extended sensory tendrils along the surface of the barrier. It rippled a little, yet appeared unbreakable.
Damn you, Taya!
Sonoe’s rival had effectively sealed off the Key from all access.
I must find a way to break through the barrier; otherwise, I can’t directly examine the energy signature of the Key itself.
Sonoe’s plan to capture the Key for her own use depended on her gaining knowledge of its unique energy pattern.
The Nameless One obviously knows-he crafted it himself, after all. I must learn the pattern as well, and soon. His impatience continues to grow. I won’t be able to stall him much longer.
Sonoe hovered above the cool blue star in frustrated rage .
There must be a weakness in the barrier somewhere!
She dared not flail against it for fear of killing Jelena prematurely and releasing the Key.
Think, Sonoe, think! If there is no weakness already, then you must make one yourself. Drill a hole, so to speak…Yes, of course! That’s how, but I’ll need another practitioner.
Swiftly, she withdrew, a little too fast, for Jelena jerked and stopped breathing for a few moments. Sonoe stabilized her with a touch and returned her consciousness to normal sleep.
She slipped out of the bed again, rearranged Jelena’s pillows, and stood a few moments gazing down at the sleeping girl. She then looked at the baby, asleep in her cradle, and for a few heartbeats, tears stung her eyes.
If Keizo could marry me and make me his queen, would it all be enough?
Sonoe took a deep breath and banished the emotion that threatened to weaken her resolve.
No.
The wooden shutters covering the room’s only window rattled softly in their frames, followed by a sharp rap. The stone at Sonoe’s breast radiated a sudden flash of heat. She moved to the window and threw open the shutters.
A huge, disheveled raven hopped through on a blast of cold, moist air. It croaked and cocked its head to the side, fixing a black eye on the sorceress.
No, not quite all black. A tiny red spark flickered deep within its center.
The bitch has whelped.
Obviously.
And the pup could turn out to be more trouble than its dam.
She’s just a baby! How can she possibly be any threat to you?
The raven flapped its wings, then hopped onto the edge of the cradle and bent down over the sleeping child, its razor-sharp beak poised just above the tiny throat.
Sonoe held her breath.
Perhaps I should kill it now.
“Don’t!” Sonoe whispered.
The bird fastened its gaze back on her and Sonoe moaned in pain. Even across the vast distance that separated them, even through the filter of another creature’s mind, the strength of the Nameless One was daunting. What must he have been like at his peak? She had no wish to find out.
You dare to instruct me?
No! No, of course not, it’s just…this child can’t harm you in any way.
Not now. But if she is allowed to come into her full Talent, she will make a formidable adversary. She is an Onjara, after all, and therefore my sworn enemy. She will come after me because she will have no choice. It is her destiny.
How can you know that?
The Nameless One’s stormwrack voice fell silent in Sonoe’s head. She sensed him pondering her words.
I won’t kill the child…not yet, anyway. We can use it to insure the compliance of the girl. She will readily sacrifice her life in exchange for its life when the time comes. You will bring both of them to me.
A thread of sound from the hall outside the chamber impinged on Sonoe’s consciousness. She jumped up and ran to the bedchamber door, pressing her ear to the smooth wood.
She could just make out the voices of Amara’s young daughters engaged in soft conversation. They had come, no doubt, to see the baby, though why the girls had not gone to bed hours ago, Sonoe did not know. She hissed in irritation and whirled to face the raven, still perched on the rim of Hatora’s cradle.
Amara’s daughters are right outside! You must leave before they make up their minds to come in here. They are certain to see the bird!
The torturous sound of metal scraping against metal bounced around in her head, causing her to wince. Oh, how she hated his laugh!
That would be a difficult one for you to explain, wouldn’t it?
Please go!
Why haven’t you found the transportation portal yet?
Sendai Castle is a very big place, as well you know!
The door opened a crack.
You must go now!
Find the portal soon, or I’ll kill you and choose another to put in your place.
Sonoe did not doubt the threat for an instant.
The raven spread its wings and flapped clumsily across the room and out through the open window. Sonoe followed and leaned out over the sill to make sure the bird had gone before she closed the shutters. She then crossed back over to the door and pulled it open.
Lani stood, fist raised as if to knock, mouth agape in surprise. Her twin sisters crowded at her back, peering around her like pups behind their mother.
“What is it?” Sonoe queried in a clipped tone.
“We…uh…We’ve come to see the baby,” Lani answered, hesitant in the face of Sonoe’s impatience. The two little girls nodded in unison.
“Well, Jelena and the baby are asleep, as should the three of you be! Does your mother know you’re out roaming the halls so late at night?” Sonoe scowled and waved her hand in dismissal. “I thought not. Now, go away and come back in the morning!”
Lani drew herself up in a display of indignation. “You have no right to speak to me like that!” she said coldly.
Sonoe laughed. Eyes sparkling with equal parts amusement and irritation, she flicked her fingers and all three girls stiffened, then relaxed, blank-eyed.
“Now go back to bed, all of you. When you wake in the morning , you’ll have no memory of what just happened.” Like automatons, the girls turned around and shuffled off. Sonoe watched them go, then shut the bedroom door behind her.
A quick touch to the temples of the weaver and the maid restored each of them to natural sleep. As Sonoe lay back down beside Jelena, she checked the girl’s mind to assure herself that all was well. Despite the lingering disgust and unease she always felt after one of The Nameless One’s visits, she still managed to fall asleep.
At sunrise, Sateyuka groaned and stirred. The sound woke Sonoe, who climbed out from beneath the covers and carefully tucked them back around the still-sleeping Jelena. Throwing a robe over her thin nightgown, Sonoe padded over to where the maid Eikko snored loudly on her pallet by the door.
Leaning over the slack-jawed hikui, the mage reached down and shook the girl’s shoulder. “Wake up, you silly cow!” she whispered. Eikko snorted and sat up, blinking. “It’s morning. Send down to the kitchen for tea,” she ordered.
“Umm, the princess usually has her tea at the eighth hour,” Eikko mumbled. She scrubbed at her round face with plump fingers.
“I don’t care, stupid girl! Get me some tea now! ” Sonoe demanded. She could feel the girl’s sullen anger, but the hikui dared not talk back or disobey. Instead, she climbed gracelessly to her feet and slipped out of the room.
“Where am I?” Sateyuka sat up and looked around her in confusion.
Magical mind control sometimes caused short-term memory loss.
“You’re in Sendai Castle, of course,” Sonoe replied with a touch of condescension in her voice. “In the bedchamber of the princess. You came for the birth, remember?”
The hikui weaver frowned, then a look of relief softened her features. She nodded. “Yes, of course. I remember now. How is Jelena? Did she sleep well last night?”
“She did. Childbirth takes a lot out of a woman, or so I’m told,” Sonoe replied. Sateyuka nodded in agreement. She stood and went over to where Jelena’s newborn lay in her cradle. From the soft noises emanating from the cradle, Sonoe could tell the baby was awake. Sateyuka bent over the cradle and a look of such tenderness suffused her features that, for a moment, it looked as though she would burst into tears.
“She is so beautiful!” the weaver exclaimed.
“Yes, she is, and despite her impure blood, she’ll be able to pass for okui. Very fortunate.”
Sonoe felt and saw the flash of anger, quickly veiled, that the weaver let slip by her mask of politeness. She smiled inwardly.
No doubt this hikui believes she and the rest of her kind should have equal status with okui under Alasiri law. Amusing, really. But if Jelena succeeds in influencing the king, he might seriously consider altering the law.
That is not so amusing.
“Sateyuka, I’m so glad you’re here.”
Jelena had awakened, and now sat up in bed, her eyes riveted on the cradle that held her daughter. Love for the baby flowed from her, sweet and pure, like spring water. Sonoe felt a brief pang of longing, but ruthlessly suppressed it.
Sateyuka smiled. “Your daughter is hungry,” she said, scooping up the infant and placing her into Jelena’s outstretched arms. Jelena kissed the silky cap of dark hair atop the baby’s head and snuggled back against the pillows. Pulling the neck of her shift open, she held Hatora’s head to her breast.
“Hatora must know who I am already,” Jelena said, her faced flushed with happiness. “Is that possible? She does have Talent, doesn’t she? Sonoe, you and my aunt Taya and Mother Amara have all said so, and I did talk to her every day while she was inside me.”
“Hatora’s Talent is very strong. Of course she knows you,” Sonoe replied.
A knock sounded at the door and it swung inward, admitting Eikko. She carried a tray laden with a teapot, cups, a small carafe of wine and a single glass.
“Umm, tea,” Jelena sighed. “Is there food yet, Eikko?”
“It will be here soon, Highness.” Eikko brushed by Sonoe and placed the tea tray down on a small side table. She wiped her hands on her skirt and, flicking a glance at Sonoe, turned to address Jelena. “Lady Amara sends a message to remind Lady Sonoe to give you your medicine. She’ll be here shortly.”
“She did not have to remind me!” Sonoe muttered, trying to keep the irritation out of her voice. She picked up the vial of medicine from the bedside table, removed the stopper and carefully counted out ten drops into the wine glass.
She then poured in a splash of wine and filled the rest with water. She handed the glass to Jelena, who took a sip and made a face.
“It’s bitter!” she exclaimed in disgust.
“Yes, well, if it tasted good, it wouldn’t work!” Sonoe said, laughing. “At least, that’s what my mother always said to me.”
“I never knew my mother,” Jelena sighed. The ghost of an old sadness crept across her humanish features and lingered in her hazel eyes. “I loved Claudia, the woman who raised me, like a mother, but I always felt that a part of me was missing because I never got a chance to know the woman who bore me.” She looked down at the suckling baby. “I never want my daughter to feel that pain, that emptiness, but I fear she will because she’ll never know her father.”
“But you’re wrong, Jelena,” Sateyuka said. “Hatora will know her father. You’ll make sure of it, as will her grandfather Sakehera.”
“The weaver is right, Jelena,” Sonoe agreed. “You know Lord Sen is already head over heels in love with this baby!”
Jelena smiled. “Yes, he is, isn’t he? It’s because he misses his son so much. Ashi and he shared a very special bond. It caused a lot of trouble between Ashi and his brother. I just hope…” Jelena’s words trailed off into silence.
“You hope what?” Sonoe prompted.
Jelena hesitated a moment, then continued. “I just hope Sadaiyo doesn’t view my child as a threat to his son. If my father-in-law shows any favoritism toward Hatora because she’s Ashinji’s daughter, Sadaiyo might make things very difficult for her.”
“How can he, Jelena? Hatora is of royal birth,” Sateyuka interjected. “She is totally protected-she’s the king’s granddaughter. You have no reason to fear your husband’s brother, or anyone else for that matter.” Sonoe noticed Sateyuka looking at her with a guarded expression. Bitter waves of resentment lapped at Sonoe’s mental shields, all directed at her.
Sonoe cared not a whit. “Again, the weaver…Sateyuka, is it?…is correct,” she said. “You should listen to your friend, Jelena. She is obviously a very wise woman.”
That should sweeten the cranky old cow’s mood a bit.
The weaver pulled up a chair and placed it beside the bed, positioned so she sat facing both mother and child. She threw a glance over her shoulder at Sonoe, sharp as a dagger.
So much for flattery , Sonoe thought.
The servant girl Eikko now passed around the tea. As she handed Sonoe her cup, the mage performed a quick surface scan of the girl’s mind and mentally nodded in satisfaction. She could find no trace of last night’s occurrences in the hikui’s memories.
“I think Hatora’s had enough,” Jelena announced. She covered herself back up and handed off the infant to Sateyuka, who lifted the child to her shoulder and began patting the tiny back. Jelena unsuccessfully tried to stifle a huge yawn. “I’m still so tired,” she mumbled. “I think I’ll rest my eyes for awhile. Wake me when breakfast comes.” Almost before the last word had passed her lips, she had fallen asleep.
The weaver rose from her chair to replace the baby in her cradle, then sat back down, ramrod straight, face impassive, all but openly daring Sonoe to try to make her leave Jelena’s side.
Sonoe sighed. “So, Sateyuka. Do you have a family?” she asked, attempting to make conversation.
“Yes,” the weaver replied, and snapped her mouth shut as if to prevent the escape of any more words than were strictly necessary. Her eyes refused to move from Jelena’s slumbering form.
“I’m not your enemy, weaver,” Sonoe said.
“Perhaps not,” Sateyuka replied. Her expression became thoughtful as she at last turned to look at Sonoe. “But if it weren’t for Jelena, you and I could never sit in the same room together. I stand against all that you believe in.”
“I believe okui must lead and hikui must follow,” Sonoe replied. “Our blood gives us that right.”
“And yet, you treat Jelena as okui.”
“That is different and you know it!”
“Oh, is it? Explain to me how this is so!” Sateyuka’s eyes flashed in challenge.
Sonoe shook her head. “This argument is pointless. Perhaps it would be wise for me to withdraw for a while. I’ll be in the sitting room if Jelena needs me.”
Outside the door, Sonoe came face to face with Amara. “I’ve left the weaver to watch Jelena,” Sonoe said. “She’s fed the baby already and is asleep again.”
Amara nodded, “Good.”
Sonoe glanced over her shoulder at the closed bedchamber door, then switched to mindspeech. I’m worried, Amara. Now that Jelena is a mother, I fear her concern for her child will interfere with our plans.
I, too, have considered this, but once Jelena knows the full truth, once she knows what’s at stake, I’m confident she’ll put aside all personal concerns and submit to her fate.
I wish I could be as sure as you are. The love she has for her daughter may be too strong. I fear she’ll be unable to willingly leave the baby behind.
We will assure my daughter-in-law that Hatora will be raised in the protective fold of strong families, both my own and the Onjaras… No. She will go bravely.
“I think I’ll return to the king’s quarters. Jelena won’t wake for awhile yet,” Sonoe said aloud. “The weaver watches over her like a she-wolf does her cub.” Sonoe’s expression made clear her distain.
“Something is happening,” Amara said softly. “Last night, I had a very disturbing dream.”
“Oh?” Sonoe responded carefully.
“I felt the presence of our enemy, as if he were very near. He is growing stronger each day, Sonoe. We must begin preparations for the Sundering. I had hoped to delay it a while longer, but circumstances are forcing our hand. War with the Soldarans will be upon us soon, and I think we must perform the Working before then.”
“I agree,” Sonoe answered. “Our entire attentions must remain focused on the defense of Alasiri once the Soldarans attack. But aren’t you forgetting one very important thing?”
“No, I’m well aware of our lack of a full complement. The only solution I can think of is to recruit practitioners from outside the Society to make up the difference.”
“Risky, but perhaps necessary,” Sonoe agreed. “I know of several who might serve.”
“I’ll leave it to you, then,” Amara said. She opened the bedroom door and disappeared inside, closing it softly behind her. Sonoe nodded in satisfaction.
Yes, leave everything to me, she thought.
Ashinji!
Jelena?
Ashinji looked around in confusion. He felt certain he had just heard Jelena call out to him .
How is that possible?
“You all right?” Seijon poked him in the ribs with the blunt tip of his practice sword.
Ashinji shook his head and refocused on the boy. “Yes, I thought…well, never mind. The combination I just taught you, show it to me again.”
He spent another hour with the boy, putting him through several more drills before he called an end to the session.
“You’re improving by leaps and bounds, Seijon. I think you’ll be ready to move on to live steel before long.”
The hikui boy beamed. “I think I’m ready now!” he exclaimed.
Ashinji shook his head. “Not yet! Don’t be so eager; it’s a big step. Once you start with a real sword, you’re going to get cut. That’s guaranteed. Think you’re ready for real pain?”
Seijon snorted. “I was knife fighting in the street long before I ended up here. I know what it’s like to get cut.”
Ashinji regarded the boy thoughtfully, remembering what Gran had told him of the young hikui’s brutal childhood.
“Go and get cleaned up. It’s almost dinnertime,” he directed. “Give me your sword.” Seijon nodded and handed him the practice blade, then scampered off toward the bath house.
Ashinji lifted his arm, sniffed, and grimaced. He gathered up the pile of assorted practice weapons and went to stow them away before heading for the bath house.
The Soldarans did not share the elves’ reverence for cleanliness, but they did wash sometimes, usually after strenuous exercise. The slaves’ bath house, a fairly simple affair, consisted of two water pumps set up on concrete pads at either end of a walled-off area of the yard, just behind the barracks. Stone-lined drains carried waste water away, and a canvas awning provided shade during the summer and protection from rain during the rest of the year.
Seijon had already stripped and hung his clothes on a peg driven into the wall. Ashinji noted with mild surprise how well-muscled the boy had become over the past few months.
No wonder his blows are so hard! Perhaps Gran is right, and I won’t need to worry over his safety when the time comes for us to try our escape.
Ashinji had yet to tell Seijon of his and Gran’s decision to leave. He didn’t want to get the boy’s hopes up in case they couldn’t figure a way out, and the less he knew, the better. It reduced the risk to all of them.
Ashinji pulled off his tunic, breeches and sandals, and hung them next to Seijon’s. A chilly breeze skirled around the interior of the bath house, lifting the awning and setting it to thrumming against the ropes holding it in place.
“I think it’s going to start raining again,” Ashinji commented. He glanced upward at the flapping canvas.
“Yeah,” Seijon responded. Water gurgled and splashed from the wide mouth of the pump.
Ashinji undid his braid and raked his fingers through his hair several times. It had grown so long, he had taken to looping his queue around his neck when he fought.
I’ll ask Gran to trim it when I see her this evening.
Seijon stepped back so Ashinji could douse himself. He leaned forward and let the cold water sluice over his head and shoulders. His mind skipped back, alighting on the memory of the first time he and Jelena had taken a bath together. The smell of her hair, wet and scented with herbs, the feel of her hot skin against his-he ached all over with longing and the grief of loss. The comforts of the bath house at Kerala Castle were a far cry from the cold water of the de Guera yard.
He stood up, gasping, and pushed his dripping hair away from his face.
“Hey, look who’s here! It’s the tink and his little doxie.”
Seijon reacted as if struck. Trembling, he shrank back and muttered, “Shut up, Leal.”
“What’s the matter, doxie? Truth hurts? The whole yard knows you let him give it to you in the ass.”
Leal strutted into the bath house, his tunic streaked with sweat. A fresh welt twisted like a petulant mouth across the top of his shaven head, testament to his last bout in the arena. He snorted and launched a gobbet of spit that just missed Seijon’s face.
“Leave him alone, Leal,” Ashinji said quietly, and moved to stand between the man and the boy.
“What are you going to do if I choose not to?”
The awning flapped and boomed overhead. The first patter of rain sprayed the canvas.
Leal closed in, stinking of sweat and violence.
Ashinji stood his ground, unflinching. Even naked, he had no fear of this man, for he knew all his weaknesses. He felt confident he could beat him in hand to hand combat, if it came down to that.
“I’ve no wish to fight you, Leal. Don’t we fight and risk our lives enough in the arena?” Ashinji kept his eyes locked onto the human’s, which glittered in the half-light like a feral dog’s.
Leal snarled, revealing a mouth full of crooked teeth. “You think you’re better’n us mere humans, don’t cha? Well, I c’n kill you any time I want, tink.”
Ashinji did a quick surface scan of Leal’s thoughts. The big human’s primitive rage roiled through his mind like molten rock, but a single image leapt out without warning.
At the same instant, Seijon cried in fear, “Ashi, he’s got a knife!”
Reflex, honed by years of combat training, saved his life. Ashinji threw himself down and to the left, narrowly avoiding the arc of Leal’s vicious thrust.
Quick as a cat, Ashinji sprang back, pushing Seijon roughly aside. The boy screamed something, but Ashinji ignored him, all of his attention focused on his opponent.
Leal rushed forward, bellowing like an enraged bull, knife raised. Ashinji met his charge and grabbed the arm holding the knife. As the human’s momentum carried him past, Ashinji ducked beneath Leal’s shoulder and threw his weight toward the ground.
Leal went down, an inarticulate cry bubbling from his lips as Ashinji, still holding the other man’s arm, twisted it hard up and back.
“Drop it!” Ashinji growled, planting his foot on Leal’s neck. When the human did not immediately comply, Ashinji forced his arm upward until the man shrieked in pain and the knife dropped from his twitching fingers.
“Let me up!” Leal gasped. “You’ll dislocate my shoulder!”
“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t do precisely that, you pathetic, cowardly ape!” Ashinji’s heart pounded his ribs like a sledgehammer.
Leal fell silent, lying passively on the muddy concrete.
“Ashi, if you hurt him, the mistress’ll punish you!” Seijon gasped through chattering teeth.
“I’m aware of that,” Ashinji shot back. He continued to maintain the pressure on Leal’s arm and shoulder. “When I let you up, you’d better leave, Leal.” The man nodded mutely. Ashinji released the pressure and sprang back, kicking the knife against the wall. Seijon scuttled over and scooped the blade into his hand.
Slowly, like a bear rousing itself from sleep, Leal climbed to his feet. He turned to face Ashinji and Seijon, who stood back, tensely watching him. For a few moments, time froze as the three of them regarded each other.
As Leal stared hard at him, Ashinji saw the promise of his death in the other man’s eyes.
A flash lit the sky and the rumble of thunder broke the spell.
Without another word, Leal turned and stalked out of the bath house into the rain. Ashinji relaxed and let out his breath in a whoosh. He turned to face Seijon, who stared after Leal with a look so full of hatred, it took Ashinji aback.
“I wish you could have killed him, Ashi. I’d kill him, if I was strong enough!” The bitterness in the boy’s voice caused suspicion to grow within Ashinji’s mind.
He has been strangely subdued these last few weeks…not like himself at all.
“Seijon, has Leal hurt you in the past?” Ashinji kept his voice soft and gentle.
Seijon reached for his clothes and began to dress. He refused to meet Ashinji’s gaze as he answered, “Yeah, when I first came to the yard.”
Ashinji donned his own clothing before turning to Seijon once again. “You can tell me about it. It might help. You should know I’m your friend and would never judge you.”
The boy swallowed hard. His face flushed and his eyes filled with tears.
“I’ve never told anyone. Not even Gran,” he whispered. Ashinji reached out and slipped his arm around Seijon’s shoulder.
“No one ever did anything like that to me before, even when I lived on the street. I was lucky, I guess.” The soft patter of spring rain filled the spaces between Seijon’s words. “My first night here, Leal caught me as I walked back to the barracks in the dark. He dragged me behind the weapons shed…and he…he…” The boy hiccupped and his shoulders began to shake.
“It’s all right, you don’t have to say any more, Seijon. I understand,” Ashinji murmured.
“No, you don’t!” Seijon cried as he broke away to face Ashinji. “It happened more than once! It’s still happening!”
“Goddess’ tits,” Ashinji whispered, horrified. It all made sense now.
Seijon nodded. “Leal makes me…He says if I don’t, he’ll kill you and Gran! I couldn’t let him do that, Ashi!”
Ashinji took the boy in his arms and cradled him until the torrent of tears had subsided. He then held Seijon out at arm’s length and stared directly into the boy’s golden eyes.
“Seijon, you must never, ever believe that by your suffering, you are protecting me, or Gran. We can protect ourselves, far better than you know. This outrage stops now!”
“What are you going to do, Ashi?” Seijon asked, his voice trembling.
Ashinji considered finding Leal and killing him on the spot, but he rejected that idea.
No, I’ll do this the right way.
“The two of us are going to Aruk-cho and you’re going to tell him exactly what you told me. He will deal with Leal, of that you can be sure.”
Seijon bit his lower lip, looking so child-like, it reminded Ashinji of just how young the boy really was.
“Come on, then. Let’s go and find Aruk-cho.”
With his arm still around Seijon’s shoulder, Ashinji guided the boy out into the rain.
A day after Seijon had related his story of abuse to Aruk-cho, the yardmaster had Leal thrown into the small, windowless cell located beneath the storerooms known as “the hole.” There he stayed for an entire week, fed only on thin gruel and water. When he emerged, sullen and withdrawn, he made a conspicuous effort to avoid all contact with both Seijon and Ashinji. The rumor flying around the yard had him stripped of all his points accumulated so far that year.
Seijon’s personality changed almost immediately. The cheerful boy Ashinji had met on his first day at the yard had re-emerged. By removing the terrible burden of his abuse, Ashinji had freed his soul.
Two weeks after the incident in the bath house, Gran came to Ashinji with exciting news.
“He’s coming back! Tilo’s coming back to the yard, maybe as soon as tomorrow!”
Ashinji, who had been diligently applying needle and thread to a rip in his tunic, paused to look up at Gran’s flushed face.
“The Eskleipan brothers just left awhile ago. They said Tilo’s been overseeing their temple clinic. Anyhow, he’s back on rotation for the yards. When he comes, he’ll want to see me. We’ll both meet with him then.”
“How risky is this going to be, Gran?” Ashinji asked. He held up the shirt to inspect his repair.
“Everyone in the yard knows Tilo and I are friends. It won’t be risky at all, least not at first. Later on, when we need to discuss an actual plan, well…”
Ashinji sighed. “We have no choice, really. Don’t forget the dream I had about my wife and Sonoe.”
Gran nodded. “Time is wasting,” she said.
“Not to mention, as soon as the rains let up, the Imperial Army will march north and Alasiri will be under attack,” Ashinji added. He stared out across the yard at several of the female slaves engaged in a group sparring match. The clang of steel ringing against steel floated on the damp air.
I wonder if Jelena has given birth to our child yet… I might have a son now… or a daughter.
“What’s your schedule tomorrow?” Gran asked.
“I’m fighting two points matches during the afternoon session.”
“Good. Tilo should arrive after midday. When he finishes his rounds, we’ll have plenty of time to talk.”
“I hope you’re right about this Tilo, Gran.”
“I know I’m right.”
Ashinji trudged from the Arena, the cheers of the crowd roaring in his ears. He unbuckled his helmet and pulled it off, teeth gritted in pain. Gingerly, he examined a long cut on his left forearm. It oozed blood, messy but not too deep.
His injury would make a good excuse to meet with Gran’s human friend Tilo.
After his return to the yard, he washed the sweat, dirt, and blood from his body and sought out Gran. He found her in the infirmary. She stood next to a cot occupied by a slave who’d taken an injury during practice, talking to a tall, dark-haired human dressed in the brown robe of the Eskleipan Brothers. The man stood with his back to the door, so Ashinji could not see his face as he entered, but something about him seemed familiar.
Gran spotted him and beckoned with her hand. “Come in, come in. Tilo, here is the young man I want you to meet,” she said in Soldaran.
So, this is Tilo.
Ashinji approached, raising his injured arm. “Perhaps you can give me something for my cut,” he said.
The healer turned, mouth open as if to speak, but instead, he simply stared.
Ashinji stopped in his tracks, astonishment striking him mute as well.
“What’s wrong?” Gran asked quizzically.
Ashinji had never expected to see this man again, especially not here, in this place.
He found his voice at last.
“Ai, Goddess…Magnes Preseren…it’s you!”
"Gods! Ashinji! I…I can’t believe it!”
Magnes stepped forward and grabbed Ashinji by the shoulders, then pulled him into a warm embrace.
“You two know each other?” Gran exclaimed.
“Ashinji and I are family,” Magnes answered.
“Magnes is my wife Jelena’s cousin,” Ashinji explained.
“Did I hear you right? Ashinji…you and Jelena are married?”
“Yes, you heard right, Magnes my friend. We are kinsmen in more ways than one now.”
Magnes whooped and swept Ashinji into another bear hug. “When I left Kerala, I figured you two were heading in that direction.” He paused, holding Ashinji at arm’s length, then added, “Did my cousin ever find her father?”
“She did, my friend, and neither of us ever could have imagined who he turned out to be. Jelena is the daughter of Keizo Onjara.”
“The…the elf king?” Magnes’ eyes grew wide with astonishment. “My little cousin… a princess! Gods!”
Ashinji nodded, smiling.
The two young men embraced again, then turned to face Gran, their arms draped over each other’s shoulder.
“So…Tilo is not your real name, then…Magnes?” Gran, who had been silently watching their reunion, now frowned in confusion.
Magnes nodded. “Yes, that’s right, Gran. I left my old name behind for reasons…well, let’s just say I need to remain Tilo for now.” His face grew serious. “What in the world are you doing here, Ashinji?”
“I could ask the same of you. My story is a long, painful one, and I’m guessing yours is, too.”
Magnes nodded. “How long have you been in the de Guera yard? Surely you’re not a…” He let the word die on his lips.
“Yes, I’m afraid it’s true. I am a slave. I was captured in a skirmish on the Kerala-Amsara border last fall, and I’ve been here ever since.”
The man on the cot moaned softly and Gran cleared her throat. “Perhaps we should speak outside,” she suggested.
Magnes checked the injured man one more time, then the three of them left the infirmary and made their way to the women’s barracks, deserted at this time of day. Gran fetched three stools for them to sit on.
“Your sister Thessalina commanded the Soldaran force,” Ashinji continued after they’d settled themselves in the shade of the barracks porch. “I learned from her that you had gone missing.”
“Gods, Ashinji… I can’t believe my sister had a hand in sending you here!” Magnes shook his head in dismay.
“There’s much more to the story, my friend. To be fair to your sister, she could have ordered me killed, but she didn’t. Instead, she had my wounds treated and made sure her troops didn’t abuse me…physically, at least.” The memory of Magnes’ dark-eyed sister, and her strange reaction to him flashed across his mind’s eye. “I think she believed she was doing the only thing she could to help me survive.”
Magnes snorted. “By selling you into slavery?”
“I’ve been a gladiator for half a year now, and I am still alive.”
“That’s because you’re a damn good fighter, and you have your Talent, even though you refuse to use most of what you have,” Gran interjected. “I wish you’d show more interest in your magical abilities!”
“You said there was more to the story, Ashinji. How much more?” Magnes inquired.
Ashinji pondered a moment, then decided he had no good reason not to tell Magnes the entire truth.
When he had finished, Magnes reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder.
“I am so very sorry, my friend. To be betrayed like that by your own brother… My sister and I have never been especially close, but I would trust her with my life.”
“You are the first person I’ve told about my brother’s part in this, Magnes,” Ashinji said. “In truth, it’s just been too painful to talk about… even to you, Gran.”
Gran sighed and patted Ashinji’s hand. “I’ve known all along, my son. I saw the memory when I first scanned you,” she admitted. “I kept the knowledge to myself, knowing how much it hurt you to think of it. I knew when you were ready, you’d tell me.”
Ashinji rubbed his smarting eyes. “The hardest part for me is knowing what the news of my death must have done to Jelena.”
A stray wisp of cloud drifted over the sun’s face, plunging the yard into cool shadow, perfectly mirroring Ashinji’s darkened mood.
“I can only imagine what kind of story my brother concocted,” he continued. “No doubt a tale full of his own brave attempts to rescue me.” Ashinji’s throat tightened in the old, familiar rage. “Though, how he can hide the truth from my mother…”
Magnes leaned forward, his brown eyes soft with sympathy. “Aren’t we a fine pair?” he said. “The God of Misfortune must have seen us together and decided we were both worthy of his gentle ministrations.”
“I’ve told you my sad tale, now it’s your turn,” Ashinji prompted.
The story of how Magnes’ father cruelly separated him from the girl he loved caused Ashinji’s heart to ache for his friend. Both he and Gran listened intently as Magnes spoke in a voice barely above a whisper.
“When my father told me how he’d arranged for Livie to marry another man, I just…I just lost all reason,” he said. “I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but when I came back to myself, I saw my father lying on the floor…dead. He had fallen and had hit his head on the edge of the fireplace mantle.” Magnes swallowed hard and fell silent.
No one spoke for several heartbeats. Finally, Ashinji asked, “Are you certain your father is dead, Magnes? Maybe he had just fallen senseless from his head injury.”
“I’m quite certain. No one, not even a man as strong as my father, could have survived such a wound.”
“It was an accident. No one would have doubted you.”
“I was afraid, Ashinji. I lost all sense, and when that happens, a man is liable to do anything. I chose to run. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret my impulsive decision, but it’s too late now. Accident or no, I’m still responsible for my father’s death.”
Gran patted Magnes on the knee. “You’re a good, kind man, Tilo. I’ve watched you, seen how well you handle the sick and injured. I say you’ve done enough penance. You should think about going home.”
“I can’t, Gran. There’s nothing left for me there. Besides,” he paused for a moment, then said, “I quite like my life here. I’ve managed to find some peace… a little contentment. It suits me more than the life I was born to assume.”
“I agree with Gran, Magnes. When I told your sister we knew each other, she reacted to your name not with hostility, but rather with sadness and confusion. I didn’t understand at the time, but now I do. She only wants to know what became of you.”
“No. I appreciate what you’re saying, but no. Thessalina will be able to petition the empress to grant her the title of Duchess in another year. She will make a far better leader than I ever would. She has already proven that. I want her to have control of Amsara.”
“You could always step aside. Why not release your sister from her grief?” Gran said.
Magnes shook his head, mouth set in a hard line. Ashinji sensed that he felt in no mood to be pushed any further.
Instead, Ashinji changed the subject. “Well, you may not want to go home, but I do.” He pointed to Gran and then to himself. “In fact, we both must return to Alasiri, and soon.”
“Of course. You have a wife and child waiting for you,” Magnes replied. “But how will you do it? You’re slaves in enemy hands. You’re elves in a country of humans, which makes it impossible for you to fade into the general population should you manage to get out of this yard. And if you’re caught, it might well mean your deaths.”
“We know that,” Gran said. “That’s why we need all the help we can get. An accomplice on the inside, and one on the outside.”
“We understand the risk you’d be taking, and neither of us would blame you for refusing, but you are the only human in all of Darguinia we can trust.” Ashinji studied his friend’s face and saw no hesitation.
“I’ll do whatever it takes,” Magnes said. “You saved my dear cousin’s life. You gave her love and happiness, two things she desperately needed, and for that I will be forever grateful.”
“Thank you, my friend,” Ashinji said. The two young men clasped hands.
The brassy voice of a gong signaling the turn of the hour shattered the late afternoon stillness. Combatants who had participated in the day’s final matches would return from the arena soon, be they alive and unhurt, wounded, or dead. The wounded would require Magnes’ services, and if he had many injuries to tend, he would stay into the night, taking his evening meal in the barracks.
The three of them stood up, Gran massaging the small of her back as if it pained her.
“We’ll discuss this further when I come back in a few days. In the meantime, I’ll try to come up with some ideas on how we might do this,” Magnes promised. “You mentioned needing an inside accomplice. Do you have someone in mind?”
A gust of wind, full of the scent of rain, blew across the yard and ruffled Magnes’ dark curls. Overhead, gray clouds piled up, further dimming the light of the dying sun.
A large black shape moved toward them from the end of the yard where Mistress de Guera’s home stood.
“We do,” Ashinji replied. “And here he comes.”
“Good evening, Aruk-cho,” Magnes called out.
The akuta swung to a stop, tail swishing. He folded his heavily muscled arms across his chest and inclined his head in greeting. “I am glad you are still here, Brother Tilo,” he said. “The mistress is having one of her sick headaches and needs more of your special remedy. She has run out.”
“I’ll bring it to her straightaway,” Magnes replied. He turned to Ashinji and Gran. “I’ll see you both later.” He hurried after Aruk-cho, who had already started back toward the house.
“You never did have Tilo tend to your arm,” Gran commented.
“Huh, so I didn’t,” Ashinji acknowledged. “Truthfully, I was so astonished to see him that I forgot all about it.” He looked down at the long cut on his forearm, which began to throb with pain, despite having been totally quiescent for the past hour.
Ashinji sucked in his breath. “Ai, Goddess, that hurts.”
“I have some salve in my kit. Wait here.” Gran disappeared inside the women’s barracks.
A few of the female slaves drifted past, on their way to the bath house. One of them, a tall redhead, flashed a brief, come hither smile as she sashayed by. Ashinji acknowledged her with a small wave. Her name was Leeta, and ever since she had arrived some three months back, she had been conducting a relentless campaign to seduce him.
It had been a very long winter in many ways. Ashinji had never been the sexual adventurer that Sadaiyo had been, but he always had access to willing partners when he wanted one. He and Jelena had been blessed with compatibility in the marriage bed, as well as out of it. This was, by far, the longest time in his life that he had gone without-made especially difficult when a female, even a human one, made it abundantly clear she desired him.
Leeta abruptly changed course and strolled to where Ashinji stood waiting for Gran to return. He steeled himself for the inevitable pass.
“Ashi,” Leeta purred as she stepped in close and draped her arms around his neck. She smelled of sweat, leather, and the unique scent of human female.
“Leeta,” he groaned, attempting to avoid her questing mouth and only partly succeeding. He wrapped his fingers around her forearms and tried to pry them loose.
Goddess, she’s strong…and attractive…and I’m not made of stone!
He sighed and gave up.
Leeta’s smile flashed full of mischief and lust. “Come help me get all my parts clean,” she murmured. “I know how much you like clean.” She pressed her pelvis hard against his.
If Leeta shared the common prejudices against his people with the majority of Soldarans, she never let on.
“As inviting as that sounds, you know I can’t,” Ashinji replied. Against his will, his body began to respond to hers.
Leeta rolled her blue eyes skyward. “Ashi, that little wife of yours is never going to know!”
“I’ll know.”
Leeta glared at him for a few heartbeats, then dropped her arms and stepped back. A few fat raindrops speckled the sand at their feet and splashed the tops of their heads.
“Better get to the bath house before it starts,” Ashinji advised, pointing at the lowering sky.
Leeta sniffed and tossed her head. “You may not be human, but you’re still a man, and no other woman in this yard has the guts to approach you, ‘cept me. You know it’s only a matter of time.” She turned on her heel and strode off just as Gran returned.
“That one is determined to have you,” she commented dryly.
“Well, she won’t succeed,” Ashinji grumbled as he tried to hide the evidence of Leeta’s effect on him, but by Gran’s wry expression, he could tell she was well aware of his…discomfort.
“Don’t be embarrassed, Son,” Gran reassured him. “You’ve been apart from the woman you love for many months now. The pressure inside you must be almost unbearable. It’s a wonder you haven’t exploded!” She chuckled. “It’s so much harder for men.”
“It is hard…Goddess, you have no idea!” Ashinji sighed.
“Let’s go inside out of the rain and I’ll fix your arm.”
It took only a few moments for Gran to salve and wrap Ashinji’s wound.
“I need to go and get a few of the practice swords out of the weapons shed so I can repair them after dinner,” Ashinji said. He flexed his arm muscle to test the tightness of the bandage and found it to be comfortable enough.
“Tilo…I mean Magnes, should be just about done with the mistress,” Gran replied as she tidied and replaced her supplies. “I’ll go meet him at the house and we’ll catch up with you at the dining hall.”
Ashinji stepped outside and lowered his head against the downpour. He sprinted across the yard and slid to a stop beneath the shelter of the overhang that jutted out from the weapons shed roof. He pushed the door open and entered.
The shed held practice weapons only. The live steel always remained securely locked up when not in use, and only Mistress de Guera and Aruk-cho had direct access. Ashinji crossed to the far side of the small room where a number of blunted swords hung in racks against the wall. He removed one with a chipped blade and two with loose quillions and hoisted them all up on his shoulder.
His Talent saved him from immediate death…
…or perhaps it was his keen hearing, so much better than any human’s.
The sound of an exhalation, light as a feather, touched his ear.
A shiver of dread rippled down his spine. He knew he needed to dodge now!
The first blow caught him just below the right armpit, slicing across his ribcage and laying open skin and muscle in a long, gory tear.
Ashinji threw himself backward and to the side in a desperate attempt to avoid the killing stroke he knew would follow. His attacker’s face remained hidden in shadow, but the malignant energy that emanated from the man like a poisonous fog proclaimed his identity.
No longer a matter of insults and petty harassment, Ashinji knew only one of them would walk away from this battle alive.
Ashinji aimed a swift kick at Leal’s midsection. With a sharp grunt of surprise, the human doubled over, clutching his abdomen. Ashinji scrambled to his feet, teeth gritted against the pain, and made a dash for the door, but Leal recovered too quickly and blocked his escape.
In the open, where quickness and agility gave him the edge, Ashinji could beat Leal in hand to hand combat, despite the human’s superior size and strength. In the cramped space of the weapons shed, he lost all advantage.
With a roar, Leal hurled himself forward, bearing Ashinji down to the ground in a fierce crash of falling weaponry. Ashinji struggled hard to twist free, but Leal held him fast, face down.
“I’ve got you now, tink! ” the big man snarled, his breath hot and foul across the side of Ashinji’s face. “Did you think I’d let it go, you gettin’ me busted? Damn you! I lost a whole year’s standing ‘cuz of you! You an’ that punk kid!”
Ashinji felt light-headed from pain and Leal’s crushing weight atop his back, restricting his breathing.
“Let me up now, and I won’t kill you later, human,” he gasped. He knew his words would do no good, but anger and fear made him reckless.
“Fuck…you!” Leal muttered and plunged his knife deep into Ashinji’s lower back.
A shockwave of agony rolled through Ashinji’s body, convulsing him and cutting the lines mooring his consciousness to his flesh.
His spirit floated free and drifted upward until it came to rest on the ceiling of the weapons shed. From his new vantage point, Ashinji watched with calm interest what happened next.
Voices, raised in alarm, drifted through the open shed door. Leal heaved himself off Ashinji’s limp form and spun around, knife dripping blood, clearly searching for a place to hide. He flung the blade from him and it skittered into a corner, sliding beneath a pile of broken harness. He glanced down at Ashinji’s body, as if satisfying himself he’d made the kill, then bolted from the shed.
Ashinji knew he hovered near death, as close as he had ever come. Even when he had lain sick with fever from the arrow wound in his shoulder back in Thessalina’s war camp-an entire lifetime ago, it seemed-his spirit had never left his body the way it had now.
This is a peculiar feeling , he thought, as he watched his blood pool around his sprawled body. He heard a voice screaming his name.
Seijon reached him first. The boy fell to his knees, crying hysterically. Next came Magnes. The look of horror on his friend’s face shook him. The drumbeat of hooves upon the sand heralded the arrival of Aruk-cho. The akuta pushed his way in, forcing both Magnes and Seijon to scramble back to avoid getting trampled. Without a word, the yardmaster leaned down and scooped Ashinji’s body into his arms and backed out of the confines of the shed.
“Take him to the infirmary!” Magnes shouted.
“Wait!” Gran cried out, rushing up and laying a hand on his forehead. She closed her eyes.
He felt like a giant hand had reached out to seize him, and now yanked him back toward the cold, bloodstained bag of flesh his body had become. He resisted at first, not wishing to be thrust back where there would be so much pain, but the memory of Jelena’s gentle kisses persuaded him.
He slammed back into his body and awoke, screaming.
Ashinji wailed, then lapsed into semi-consciousness. Gran staggered back, her face the color of milk.
“Quickly now, Aruk-cho! We’ve got no time to waste!” Magnes shouted. “Seijon, run and fetch Mistress de Guera!”
He raced off, the akuta trotting along at his side, Gran trailing a few steps behind. When they reached the infirmary, Aruk-cho gently laid Ashinji face down on a padded table at the back of the room. Wielding a small, sharp knife, Magnes carefully cut away Ashinji’s tunic to reveal two stab wounds-one a long, shallow cut across his ribcage, and another wound in his lower back. The second injury was by far the more serious-a deep, ragged hole that oozed blood in sluggish gouts.
“I need something…a cloth or rag, to put pressure on this!” Magnes called out.
“Take this, healer.” Aruk-cho thrust a wadded piece of linen into his outstretched hand, which he then pressed over the wound. Ashinji flinched and groaned. His eyes fluttered open and, for a few heartbeats, he gazed directly at Magnes, as if begging for release. Then, with a sigh, his lids drooped and he fell into a swoon.
Gods…Ashi!
A rush of powerful emotion-confusing, unsettling feelings he’d thought conquered and safely buried-surged through Magnes then, taking him completely by surprise. The sight of his friend’s beautiful green eyes awash in tears of suffering filled him with agony of an entirely different kind.
Ashi! You can’t die… I don’t know what I’d do!
“He’s in here, Mistress!”
Magnes looked up to see Seijon rushing into the infirmary, followed closely by Mistress de Guera. She pushed past Aruk-cho to gaze down at Ashinji lying on the table. “How bad is he?” she asked, her voice clipped and business-like, but her eyes betrayed her genuine feelings.
“Very bad, Mistress,” Magnes replied. Wrestling his own fear into temporary submission, he added, “He’s sustained a deep stab wound. I’m trying to slow the bleeding so I can assess what needs to be done to repair it.”
“Gods,” Mistress de Guera whispered. She turned to Aruk-cho. “I want the man who did this. Find him!” she snapped.
“I know who hurt Ashi,” Seijon spoke up, his face puffy and red from crying.
“Who did this, boy?” Aruk-cho rumbled.
“That asshole Leal! I saw him attack Ashi. I ran to get help, but I was too late!” His face crumpled and he began sobbing once more.
Magnes caught the look that passed between Aruk-cho and his mistress.
“I’ll return as soon as I can,” the akuta promised, then he and Mistress de Guera departed. Magnes turned his attention back to the problem at hand.
How will I save the life of my friend?
“Gran, I know you have abilities…Talent, as your people call it…that are especially powerful,” Magnes said. “You used it just now to bring Ashinji back from the dead, didn’t you?”
Gran had never looked truly old to him until now. “No. I didn’t bring Ashi back from the dead,” she replied. “Not even I am that powerful!” She shook her head. “His spirit had floated free of his body, yes, but the cord that binds the spirit to flesh had not yet broken. All I did was pull his spirit back into his body.”
Gran held out another wad of linen to replace the blood-soaked one Magnes had pressed to Ashinji’s wound. He applied the fresh compress and tossed the used one to the floor.
Thank the gods the bleeding seems to be slowing!
After maintaining the pressure for a while longer, Magnes peeled back the compress and closely examined the two wounds. A plan formulated itself in his mind.
I’ll stitch up the shallow cut completely, but the deep wound will need to drain. I’ll close only the top part and leave a small opening at the bottom for fluids to escape.
“I need Fadili, my assistant,” Magnes said, looking across the room at Seijon, who sat by the door, sniffling and wiping his eyes. The boy scrambled to his feet, nodded, and darted from the room.
Gran laid her hand on Ashinji’s forehead, inhaled sharply, and shot Magnes a grim look. “He is very close to death, Tilo. Almost too close to pull back. I can hold him in his body, but I don’t know for how long.”
Magnes gazed into the face of his friend. Pale and still, it looked more like a death mask than the face of a living man, yet it had lost none of its beauty. A bright smear of blood stained Ashinji’s cheek, standing out in sharp contrast like a rose on marble. Magnes’ heart twisted painfully in his chest as he once again fought to master his strange and unruly emotions. He leaned over and whispered in Ashinji’s ear.
“Ashi, if you can hear me, listen carefully. I won’t let you die. I’m going to sew you up and then you will live. Jelena and your child need you. Focus on them!”
“He can hear you,” Gran said. “Your words are helping!”
“I am here, Brother!” Fadili rushed into the infirmary, carrying the satchel Magnes used to transport all his equipment and medicines.
Seijon flew in a heartbeat later, hard on Fadili’s heels. “Aruk-cho found Leal hiding in the latrines! ” the boy gasped, breathless from running. “He tried to lie… said he didn’t do anything, but there was blood all over his clothes. Aruk-cho threw him in the hole.” He looked at Magnes, eyes pleading.
Magnes didn’t have the heart to tell the boy, who so obviously loved Ashinji, that death could still claim their friend, despite all of Magnes’ skills as a healer. Magnes himself didn’t want to face that grim reality, but he had no choice.
Fadili and Magnes had worked together for many months now, and the young Eskleipan apprentice knew exactly what Magnes would need for any given task. Quickly, they fell into the rhythm of experienced partners.
While Magnes laid out all of the tools he would need, Fadili filled a copper basin with water and set it in the fireplace to heat. Next, he and Magnes stripped the remnants of their patient’s blood-soaked tunic away. Gran remained at Ashinji’s head, perched on a stool, her hands resting on his hair. She sat with eyes shut, unmoving, as if in a trance.
Fadili went to the hearth and fetched the basin of warmed water. Using clean strips of linen, he washed away most of the sticky gore clinging to Ashinji’s skin. Magnes then studied the ragged margins of both wounds. The deep gash still oozed fresh blood, but far more slowly than before.
Got to close the big one first , he thought. Fadili had rinsed the basin and refilled it, then returned it to the fire to heat up once more. He now stood at Magnes’ elbow, a small stoneware jar in one hand and another water-filled copper basin in the other.
The Eskleipans were considered medical eccentrics by the major Soldaran healing orders, snickered at by some, scorned outright as dangerous rogues by others. During his time with them, Magnes had discovered that they practiced medicine more like what he had seen in Kerala among the elves. They revered cleanliness in all things; Magnes had learned that lesson very quickly under the demanding tutelage of Brother Wambo.
He held out his hands and Fadili poured a dollop of sharp-smelling liquid soap into his palms. The Eskleipans always washed with this special soap before performing any procedure. Leke Ndomo himself had formulated it many years ago; lately, Magnes had further refined the recipe. The simple act of hand washing saved many a life that would have otherwise been lost to wound rot. Why this was so, no one had yet figured out, but it worked.
After a thorough rubbing, Magnes rinsed the soap from his hands and dried them on a clean towel. Next, Fadili did a second washing around Ashinji’s wounds with the medicinal soap, then rinsed the entire area clean with fresh water.
“Now, we’re ready to begin,” Magnes said. Fadili nodded in silent reply.
Magnes hadn’t started out performing surgery. His interest lay in medicinal herbology, but spending a day observing the order’s chirurgeon, Brother Jouma, at work, had sparked an interest in broadening his studies. Now, he and Fadili performed all of the surgeries at the yards where the order held contracts.
Magnes had seen and treated many wounds during his time at the yards, both minor and horrific, but his stomach had yet to rebel and his hands had always remained steady. This time, though, proved different.
This man is my friend…my kinsman…
And…I…
No. I can’t feel that. Mustn’t let that out.
He drew in a deep breath to steady himself, and swallowed the bile burning the back of his throat.
Concentrate on the task. Only the wound matters .
Throughout the initial prep, Ashinji had remained motionless, but as Magnes probed the major wound, he began to stir.
“Gran, keep him still if you can,” Magnes said as he inserted his index finger into the gash to ascertain its depth. Ashinji moaned and Gran muttered under her breath, as if in prayer.
“Look’s pretty deep, Tilo,” Fadili commented. “You’ll want to do a two layer closure, I expect?”
“Very good, Fadili. Yes, both the inner layer of muscle and the outer must be sutured in order to minimize the risk of the wound opening up later… I’ll need to put in a strip of linen to serve as a drain. I’m very worried, though. The blade passed through into the body cavity. It may have nicked an organ.” Magnes withdrew his finger.
“This elf is your friend.” Fadili made it a statement, not a question.
“Yes…” Magnes’ voice caught for a moment. He cleared his throat. “It seems like an entire lifetime ago that we met. He is married to my cousin.”
“I am very sorry, Brother.”
Fadili’s simple declaration of sympathy deeply touched Magnes. He nodded in acknowledgement. “I’m ready to start,” he replied.
Magnes lost all sense of time as he immersed himself in the task of repairing Ashinji’s torn body. His mind remained intensely focused and only peripherally aware of the other people in the room besides Fadili. Someone held a lamp aloft over the table to provide illumination. Voices buzzed softly over his shoulder.
From far away, a man screamed in rage and defiance.
With a deft twist of his fingers, Magnes tied off the last stitch and laid his needle aside. He exhaled noisily.
It’s done.
He raised his arms above his head to stretch out his aching back, then slowly looked around.
The boy Seijon stood on a stool to his left, lantern in hand. Gran sat rigid as a stone effigy, both hands clutching Ashinji’s head as if she alone prevented it from flying off his shoulders. Her eyes stared straight ahead, fixed and glassy. The scrape of a hoof upon stone alerted Magnes to the presence of Aruk-cho, just inside the doorway.
“Gran!” Magnes whispered. “Wake up!” He clicked his bloody fingers before her eyes. She sighed and, like a diver surfacing from deep water, emerged from her trance.
A shudder racked her thin frame. “Ai, Goddess!” she murmured. Her fingers relaxed and began stroking Ashinji’s hair.
“Does he still live?” Aruk-cho called out from the doorway.
“Yes, he lives, but it was a very close thing,” Gran rasped in reply. “I’ve never fought so hard to keep a soul from crossing over… He’s still very much in danger; the cord that binds him to his body is almost completely severed. It could snap at any time.”
Without warning, she slumped sideways and would have fallen to the floor had not Fadili lunged to catch her. Gently, the young Eskleipan lifted her up and held onto her until she could sit unaided.
Magnes understood how she felt. He, too, was weary to the point of collapse. “Let’s get him cleaned up and bandaged, Fadili. Seijon, stay where you are awhile longer. I still need the light. Yardmaster, I’m sure the mistress is impatient for news, if you don’t mind.”
“The mistress is…occupied at the moment,” Aruk-cho replied cryptically. “When she is finished with her task, I am certain she will come to the infirmary herself.”
Magnes recalled hearing a man scream. He shuddered, then banished the thought from his mind.
He and Fadili worked quickly to wash, pad, and then bind the freshly sutured wounds. Finally, they laid Ashinji on his uninjured side atop a clean, moss-stuffed mattress and covered him up to his chin with several layers of blankets.
“I’ve done what I can. The rest is up to you and your One Goddess,” Magnes said. His eyes met Gran’s. “I’ll stay the night, of course. Fadili can return to the temple… let them know where I am.”
“I’m staying too,” Seijon piped up.
“As will I,” Gran added.
“Are you certain, Gran?” Magnes asked. “You look completely exhausted.”
“No more than do you, young man! I will stay, and there’ll be no arguments.”
Aruk-cho cleared his throat. “I will take my leave, then. I shall return in the morning. Many thanks to you, Brother.”
“Aruk-cho, wait. I need to speak to you,” Gran called out. “It’s vital that you listen now to what I’m about to say.” She stood up, and some of her weariness seemed to fall away.
The akuta carefully maneuvered his bulk further into the room until he stood before Gran, dwarfing her slender frame beside his massive one.
“I am listening, Grandmother,” he rumbled.
“You and I have been here a long time, have we not?” she began. The akuta inclined his head in reply. “We both made a conscious decision to stay, though we are free to leave whenever we wish. I have always kept my reasons for remaining to myself. I can remain no longer. I must return to my homeland.”
She wavered on her feet and Magnes jumped to catch her as she sagged.
“Gran, please sit down! You’re about to collapse!” he scolded.
Seijon brought a stool over, and Magnes helped the old woman to sit. After taking a moment to catch her breath, she continued. “Something terrible is happening in the north, and I don’t mean the coming war between my people and the Empire. I felt it stirring several years ago… an ancient and terrible evil that has for centuries been kept imprisoned by members of my order. That evil has grown stronger with each passing year.”
“Before, I chose to ignore it. After all, I was no longer a part of the world of high magic. I gave up the practice of sorcery when I went into exile. But when Ashinji arrived, and I learned who he was-no, when I learned who his wife was, I realized that I could no longer remain out of the fight. My skills and strength will be needed by my colleagues, for only by combining all of our power will we have any hope of defeating what is coming.”
“Gran, you told me long ago that you had been a sorceress and that you had given up your powers. The mistress will not stop you from returning home to take them up again if you must, but what part in all of this does Ashinji play?”
“Ashinji’s wife is the key to everything…quite literally. She is an innocent, chosen before her birth by members of my order to be the bearer of a powerful magic. She has no idea what she harbors…no idea at all. But she must be protected at all costs from that which is coming. If the Key inside her is freed prematurely and falls into the wrong hands, it will mean the end of the material world as we know it… for humans, elves, for every living thing.”
“I still do not understand, Grandmother.”
“Ashinji must return with me to Alasiri; that is, if he lives. He has a vital role to play in the securing of the Key. It is his wife, after all, who harbors the magic. Aruk-cho, I am asking for your help. Your people and mine have been allies in the past. If… when Ashinji is well enough, help us to leave this place.”
“You are asking me to abet an escape. Ashinji is legally a slave. I am the yardmaster here. The mistress trusts and relies on me.” Aruk-cho’s liquid black eyes slid from Gran’s face to stare at Ashinji lying in his bed, silent and still. The atmosphere grew tense and heavy. Magnes studied the craggy lines of Aruk-cho’s face, searching in vain for some clue as to what the akuta’s thoughts were, but as usual, he had no luck. Aruk-cho remained a master of inscrutability.
“Aruk-cho,” Gran continued, “I’m not asking you to aid us directly. You are an honorable man. I know where your first loyalty must lie. But Ashinji has to return home with me.” She paused, then added, “I have some money saved. It’s not enough to purchase Ashi’s freedom, but I will gladly give it all to Mistress de Guera as partial compensation when we leave.”
“I have some money also,” Magnes interjected. “If it’ll help buy my friend’s way out of here, then I’ll happily give it up.”
Aruk-cho stood like a black granite mountain, large and motionless, except for the back and forth swing of his tail. At last, he spoke. “The mistress values Ashinji highly, and not just because of his skills as a fighter. She would not wish to lose him. And yet… Gran, I have always known you are a woman of great power and knowledge, power that you keep carefully hidden. If you say there is an evil force that threatens our world, and Ashinji is needed to help defeat it, then I believe you. I will aid you however I can and hope the mistress will forgive me.”
“I swear to you, Aruk-cho. When the time comes, I will protect you,” Gran promised. “Thank you.”
“I shall offer prayers for his life tonight, before I retire,” Aruk-cho said, then as carefully as he had entered, he departed the infirmary.
Magnes waited until the yardmaster had moved out of earshot before he spoke. “You didn’t tell Aruk-cho that you’re taking the boy with you. Why not?” he asked.
Seijon, who had remained silent up til now, responded with a “Yeah, why not?” of his own.
“Because Aruk-cho has already been compromised enough!” Gran snapped. “He has agreed, at the very least, to look the other way while I steal one of his employer’s most valuable pieces of property! If he knew I’m planning to steal the boy as well…The money I will leave behind won’t come near to covering the mistress’s losses for both Ashinji and you, imp!” She wagged her finger at Seijon for added effect. “No, it’s much better that he not be privy to everything.”
“Sensible,” Magnes agreed. “I also think it wise not to let him know I’ll be in on the breakout. Fadili can be trusted to keep quiet.” Fadili nodded for emphasis.
Gran sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Ai, Goddess I’m so tired,” she whispered. She eased her thin body off the stool and down into the chair that Fadili had placed by Ashinji’s bed. Tenderly, she caressed Ashinji’s pale cheek and began fussing with the blankets.
Seijon and Mistress de Guera aren’t the only ones who’ve fallen in love with Jelena’s husband, Magnes thought. “Ashinji reminds you of someone who’s close to you, doesn’t he?” Magnes asked. A flash of insight had made clear the old woman’s behavior toward his friend.
“Yes,” Gran replied. “I had a son once, very much like Ashi.” She said no more and Magnes didn’t press, sensing the terrible weight of grief behind her words.
Fadili came up behind him and touched his shoulder. “Everything is clean and packed up, Tilo,” he reported. “I’ll return to the temple now, if you have no further need of me.”
“Thank you, Brother,” Magnes replied. “Tell Brother Wambo that I’ll be back sometime tomorrow afternoon.”
After Fadili had departed, Magnes pulled up another chair beside the bed and sat. Seijon had made himself a pallet on the floor at the bed’s foot, and now lay curled up under a blanket with only the top of his head showing. Gran gazed at Ashinji’s face.
“You miss him, don’t you? Your son, I mean,” Magnes said.
“I miss all my family,” Gran replied. She reached out and laid a hand on Ashinji’s forehead, closing her eyes. Magnes didn’t realize he had been holding his breath until Gran’s lids fluttered open. “Ashi is adrift… lost in the gray lands between life and death. All I can do is to continue to call to him, in the hope that he hears and heeds my voice.”
“If he dies, what then?” Magnes asked. “Will you be able to do what you need to do without him?”
“I don’t know. I’m not even certain that we can prevail, even with every weapon at our disposal, and Ashinji’s death would make things that much more difficult.”
“Then he has to live.”
The night passed slowly. While Gran dozed and Seijon snored, Magnes remained awake, keeping watch. When the first light of dawn leaked in through the slats of the shutters, he rose, stretched the kinks from his back and reached over to press his hand to Ashinji’s throat. A pulse-weak, but steady-beat against the sensitive tips of his fingers. He breathed a sigh of relief.
His friend still lived.
He bent over to whisper in Gran’s ear. “Gran, wake up.”
“Hmmmm, yes, yes, I’m awake,” she muttered.
Her eyes flew open and before she could speak again, Magnes reassured her. “Yes, he’s still alive.”
“I know,” she answered.
The infirmary door rattled in its frame, then swung open to admit Mistress de Guera. “How is he?” she demanded without preamble.
“Still alive, Mistress, but just barely,” Magnes answered. Mistress de Guera advanced upon the bed and Magnes had to dodge in order to avoid a collision. She stood for many heartbeats, looking down at Ashinji, her face a mask of conflicting emotions.
At last, her eyes turned first to Gran and then to Magnes. “Leal admitted to stabbing Ashinji only after much…persuasion.”
“What’ll happen to Leal, Mistress?” Seijon asked, awake now, and sitting up on his pallet, hair tousled from sleep.
The mistress’s full lips compressed and a tiny vertical crease appeared between her eyes. She reached beneath the blankets and withdrew Ashinji’s hand clasped in hers.
She stood thus, unmoving, until Gran broke the silence. “Leal is dead, is that not so, Mistress?” the old elven woman asked. Mistress de Guera laid Ashinji’s hand down on top of the coverlet.
“Yes, that is so.”
Abruptly, the mistress spun on her heel and paced toward the door. Before she stepped through, she paused.
“My thanks, Brother Tilo, for your good efforts to save my slave. I am…appreciative.” With that, she departed.
Gran shook her head. “The mistress has made a terrible mistake,” she declared.
“What do you mean?” Magnes asked, though he already knew the answer.
“She has allowed herself to love a slave,” Gran replied.
A month had passed since Jelena gave birth, and to celebrate the newest Onjara’s first four weeks of life, the king commanded that a feast be given in the little princess’s honor. At the same time, he would officially present his granddaughter to the people of Alasiri.
The day of the festivities dawned wet and blustery. The spring rains had been much heavier this year, a gift and aid from the One, many folk said. The longer the rains lasted, the longer they would delay the Soldarans’ northward march.
Hatora remained calm and quiet throughout the entire presentation ceremony and the feast that followed. Even as her two proud grandfathers passed her back and forth between them like a game ball, she maintained an air of total contentment. Everyone present could see how much both the king and his oldest friend adored the granddaughter they shared.
The day after the feast, word arrived from the south. The Soldaran legions were on the move.
“Keep your eyes on your opponent’s face, Princess! The eyes! Watch his eyes! Yes! Excellent!”
Jelena parried a blow aimed at her midsection, feinted left, then whipped her blade up and to the right, clocking her sparring partner on the side of his helmet, rattling him hard. He stepped back and lowered his own blade. With unsteady fingers, he fumbled at the strap that held his helm in place.
“Are you all right, Mai?” Jelena called out.
“He’s fine, aren’t you, boy?” Kurume Nohe, swordmaster and Jelena’s teacher, answered. “My son has a very hard head.”
Mai Nohe nodded in agreement as he pulled his helmet from his head and let it dangle from his hand by the strap. “Just a little dizzy is all, Princess. Don’t worry yourself.”
“I don’t know, Mai. I hit you pretty hard.” Jelena dropped her own sword and removed her helmet. “You look pale.”
Mai laughed, his dark eyes gleaming. “Like my father says…I have a hard head.”
Kurume Nohe and his son had been working with Jelena now for several weeks, taking up her arms training where she and Ashinji had left off before he’d ridden east to his death.
“You are making tremendous progress, Highness. One would think that you were born to this.” Kurume nodded approvingly.
Jelena laughed in turn. “Hardly!” she exclaimed. “I was born into servitude in my uncle’s house. I never would have been allowed near weapons of any kind had it not been for my cousin insisting I receive at least a rudimentary education. I learned the basics from him.”
“You possess a natural ability, then. Frankly, I’m not surprised, considering your bloodline.”
“Yes, well… natural ability aside, will I be ready to ride to war at my father’s side?” Jelena caught Mai scrutinizing her from the corner of her eye. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t quite work up the nerve.
“I would wish for more time, but there’s nothing like the forge of battle to temper a young warrior. You’ll be ready.” Kurume picked up Jelena’s sword and held it out to her, hilt first. “I think you’ve had enough practice for today, Highness. We will resume tomorrow, same time.”
“Until tomorrow, Master Kurume,” Jelena replied, taking her sword and carefully sheathing it.
Kurume bowed, then turned and headed for the gate that led out of the king’s private sparring yard. “You coming, Son?” he called out over his shoulder, never breaking stride.
“I’ll be along shortly, Father. I want a word with Princess Jelena,” Mai replied. “That is, if it’s convenient, Princess.”
“Of course, Mai. What is it you wish to speak to me about?” Jelena started walking toward the gate, helmet tucked beneath her arm. Mai fell in beside her. She kept her eyes focused straight ahead, afraid to look directly into Mai’s face, afraid of seeing what she suspected might be there.
Please, Mai! Don’t say it! Don’t change things between us!
“I have a confession to make, Princess,” Mai began. He hesitated, then stopped in his tracks, head lowered. Jelena had no choice but to stop walking as well. She waited for him to continue, dreading his next words.
“I…I have tried to control my feelings. Tried and failed!” Now that he had committed himself, words tumbled from Mai’s lips like a river in flood. “It’s been nearly a year since your husband died. I’ve waited, as was decent, because you’ve been in mourning, but now… now I feel like time is wasting! Alasiri will be at war soon, and if I wait much longer, it may be too late!”
“Oh, Mai,” Jelena breathed.
Mai stood at about the same height as Ashinji, but where Ashinji had been fair, Mai was dark. His raven warrior’s queue fell to his waist and his eyes, the color of aged wood, blazed with emotion.
“I love you, Jelena,” he whispered.
Jelena squeezed her eyes shut to close out the sight of Mai’s vulnerability. The ground beneath her did a slow roll, and she abruptly found herself clinging to his arm.
“Oh, Mai,” she repeated in dismay as she pushed herself away from him. “I…I don’t know what to say!”
“You don’t have to say anything yet, just listen…Your husband was a good man. Many in the army admired Ashinji Sakehera, and not just those who served under him. I would never seek to take his place in your heart.” He paused, then continued, “I’m common-born. You are a princess. It seems like an insurmountable obstacle, but it can be overcome, if only you can return my feelings, Jelena.”
He stepped forward and swept her hand up in his. “Jelena, I promise that I’ll love and cherish you as you deserve, and I’ll love your daughter as if she were my own.”
Jelena trembled. The strength of Mai’s passion engulfed her- almost too much to bear, and yet…
Ashi is gone. I’ll never see him again in this life; why hold on to a ghost? Mai is honest, kind, and nice to look at…and he loves me. Perhaps, in time, I’ll come to love him, but if I don’t…can I accept anything less than what I had with Ashi?
A sudden rush of anger from some deep, hidden place within her soul surged forth, taking her by surprise.
Damn you, Ashi! Why did you leave me like this? Why didn’t you fight harder! Hatora and I need you!
“Jelena, are you all right?”
Jelena shook herself and nodded sharply. “Yes, yes, Mai. I’m all right. This is just a lot to take in. I mean, I suspected that you might…have feelings for me, but to hear you say it out loud…well, I need time to think.”
Mai raised her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. “I’ll give you time,” he said, “but remember…none of us has as much time as we think we do.” He released her hand and the two of them exited the yard. Jelena turned left toward the section of the castle where her apartments lay. Mai turned in the opposite direction.
“Mai, wait!” Jelena called out. He stopped and turned to face her, the hope on his face heartrending. “I promise I’ll think about what you said, and I’ll try not to keep you waiting too long. You deserve a quick answer.”
Mai’s eyes swiveled downward then back up to her face. “Thank you, Princess,” he replied, then bowed and walked away.
Jelena stood watching his retreating figure, and tried hard not to cry.
“Lady Odata, has there been any more news from the south concerning the plague?” the king asked. Everyone seated at the large, rectangular table looked at the Lady of Tono.
“Sporadic reports, yes,” Odata began. “It seems the disease went dormant over the winter, but with the coming of the spring rains, it has resurfaced. Most alarmingly, all of the new cases are occurring in okui.”
Jelena’s status entitled her to sit in on council meetings, though she had no right to speak without permission. Once she had shown an interest in matters of state, Keizo had encouraged her to do so, and for the last few weeks, she had never missed a session. She always tried to remain as unobtrusive as possible, dressing plainly and positioning her chair behind and to the left of her father’s. After the first couple of times she attended, the council members appeared to forget about her presence altogether.
The king and his advisors knew they had little time left. The rains had stopped and the ground grew dryer by the day. The Soldaran forces were on the move. The elven army had to be ready to meet them.
Life in Sendai went on as usual, but an undercurrent of nervous trepidation flowed through the air like smoke-no panic yet, just a heightened sense of unease. It showed in the faces of the people as they went about their business and made their preparations for the gathering storm. Sendai had never in its long history suffered a siege, but the city had been built with numerous defenses, and according to a committee of experts put together by the king, it could withstand a prolonged blockade-six months, maybe seven-provided all storehouses were full.
The elves’ biggest fear now, besides invasion, was the plague.
Keizo turned to his brother, who sat to his immediate right. “What do you propose we do?” he asked.
“I’ve decided to go down to Tono myself to personally investigate,” Prince Raidan announced. “Secondhand reports are no substitute for firsthand observation.”
“Do you think that’s wise?” Keizo asked. “We don’t know how the disease is spread, nor why it can now affect okui. What if you fall ill? I need you too much, Brother.”
Jelena sipped at a goblet of wine, watching with keen interest the dynamic between her father and uncle. She understood exactly why Raidan wanted to go to Tono himself. Her uncle firmly believed in the ability of science to solve all mysteries and problems, and as a scientist, he would want to apply what he referred to as the scientific method to the problem of the plague.
Keizo, by contrast, held a traditionalist’s view. He preferred to rely on Talent and its application through the use of magic.
“I’ve spoken to you of the theories of Nazarius, Brother,” Raidan replied impatiently. “As long as I take precautions to avoid all bodily excretions from the plague victims…”
“Yes, yes, I know!” Keizo interrupted. “However, I don’t put the same stock in those notions that you do.”
The prince’s eyes flashed with annoyance. “I’m a trained physician, Brother. I’m convinced my methods can uncover the cause of this plague, but I need to go to the source to apply them! I must examine victims, collect samples…”
“Majesty, I agree with his Highness,” Sen interjected.
Both the king and the prince turned to face the Lord of Kerala.
“It’s vitally important that we learn all we can about this illness and it seems to me the prince is the one best qualified to investigate.”
“Don’t fight me on this, Keizo,” Raidan said in a low voice. The rest of the council looked on, faces impassive. Jelena watched her father’s face slowly relax as he relented.
“Very well. Do what you must, but do it as quickly as you can.”
“I will leave at first light tomorrow. I shouldn’t be gone more than five days,” Raidan promised.
After the matter of Raidan’s investigation of the plague had been decided, the council spent the remainder of the session reviewing the battle plans. The complex logistics of gathering the combined forces of all Alasiri’s fiefdoms were finalized. A plan for provisioning was already in place and supply lines established. The forces themselves still needed balancing and separation into two divisions-one under the command of Sen, the other to be commanded by the prince. The Sendai Home Guard also needed augmentation with additions from the main army. Sen would see to these details later, as the time drew nearer for mustering.
The king and his generals had worked out the final plan over many weeks of intense research and discussion. They had options available to cover all possible scenarios-from the quick defeat and rout of the enemy to a full scale invasion and siege of Sendai itself.
Not a single man or woman on the council wanted to contemplate the possibility that the heart of Alasiri might be invaded, but contemplate it they must. Their duty compelled them to plan for the worst and come up with ways to safeguard the future of the elven people.
Jelena listened attentively at first as each lord gave an accounting of the size and composition of his or her force, but her mind soon wandered. The image of Mai’s face kept intruding on her thoughts, and with a painful start, she realized she now thought more about Mai these days than about Ashinji.
She knew she should look upon this as good and healthy-a sign that she at last felt ready to let go of the past and move on, perhaps to a new love. Still, she couldn’t help but feel a small twinge of guilt and sadness, even though she realized she in no way betrayed what she and Ashinji had shared.
I promised Mai a speedy answer. That was five days ago. It’s time to end his suffering.
Jelena rose from her chair and moved on silent feet to a small side door that exited into a secondary corridor. Before reaching for the handle, she glanced over her shoulder; no one seemed to have taken notice of her departure. She pulled on the handle and the door swung open on well-oiled hinges. She slipped through and hurried away.
"Tilo, there you are!” Brother Wambo scurried toward Magnes from across the sun-dappled courtyard, skinny arms waving. Magnes waited for the elderly healer to catch up before he continued on his way to his dispensary. “Fadili told me of what has befallen your slave friend. I am sorry,” Wambo offered in his thin, reedy voice.
Magnes nodded in thanks. “I was just on my way back to the de Guera yard to check on him.”
“You look terrible, Brother,” Wambo observed. “I daresay you could use a meal and a nap.”
Magnes grimaced as he pushed his fingers through his unkempt hair. “It’s been a rough night. When I left him this morning, my friend still lived, but that was several hours ago. I’m very worried. The worst of his wounds is quite deep. The knife pierced clear through the muscle layer and entered the body cavity.”
“Eeee…Not good!” Wambo shook his head in dismay. “Your friend will most likely die, I’m afraid. Such is the fate of most arena slaves.”
A momentary flash of irrational anger tightened Magnes’ chest.
Ashi will not die! I won’t let him! he wanted to scream, but instead, he reined in his emotions, then stopped in his tracks and regarded Wambo thoughtfully.
“Brother, do you remember discussing with me a plan to provide medical care to some of the outlying suburbs and villages around Darguinia?”
“Yes. You wanted to outfit a wagon as a traveling clinic. I thought it was a good idea; I still do. Anything we can do to combat the woeful levels of ignorance and superstition in the general populace is a good idea. Why do you ask?”
“I’ll talk to you about it later. Right now, I’ve got to get back to the de Guera yard.”
Wambo shrugged. “Eh, suit yourself, though I think you should eat something first. Good luck.” He shuffled off, sandals slapping against the hard-packed clay of the courtyard.
Magnes continued on his way to the dispensary, intending to pick up some supplies before heading out. The traveling clinic idea hadn’t been entirely his own. A suggestion by Fadili had planted the seed in his mind, and at first, the idea hadn’t involved anything nearly as elaborate as a specially outfitted wagon. But the more Magnes had mulled over the details, the more he had been convinced of the merits of a wagon, and he knew just the person to finance the venture: Mistress Armina de Guera.
For years, the mistress had suffered from headaches of such ferocious intensity, they had left her completely debilitated when they struck.
The first day Magnes had come to her yard, several months ago, Mistress de Guera had been in the throes of agony, laid low by her head pain. His honey-sweetened tea of skullcap, ginger, willow bark, and valerian root had eased the pain and gained him an extremely grateful patron. Magnes felt certain the lady’s ongoing gratitude would insure a swift affirmative to his request for money.
The irony of the whole plan lay in the fact that the very wagon the good lady financed would carry two of her slaves to freedom.
After packing a supply of fresh bandages and some packets of herbs he would need to treat Ashinji’s wounds, Magnes started out for the arena precincts. The late afternoon sun shone through shredded clouds, blown apart by stiff spring winds.
As Magnes walked, people called out to him.
“Ho there, Brother Tilo! My wife’s got another boil on her arse that needs lancing!”
“Brother, can ye come an’ look at m’ son’s sore tooth?”
“Brother Tilo, the rash is baaaack!!!”
Magnes waved and kept walking. So many residents of the neighborhood now came seeking their services that the local temple of Balnath-their archrival-had sent several of their bretheren to spy on the Eskleipans as they went about their work. To Magnes, the priests of Balnath were nothing but reprehensible charlatans. They traded on the superstition and fear of the common people, preferring to keep them ignorant of even the simplest things they could do to protect themselves from disease, such as hand washing.
When Magnes reached the gate of the de Guera yard, the guard waved him through without challenge. He went straight to the infirmary and found Gran still sitting in her chair by Ashinji’s bed.
“How is he?” he asked, advancing to the bed and dropping his satchel on the floor.
Gran heaved a weary sigh. “He’s still adrift. All I can do is continue to call to him.”
Magnes reached out and lifted one of Ashinji’s eyelids. He observed no response, not even the barest flicker of awareness. He picked up Ashinji’s wrist and felt for the pulse that beat there, slow, but steady.
That’s one good sign, at least.
“I need to check the wounds and change the dressings,” he said, replacing Ashinji’s hand on the blanket.
Gran nodded. “I’ll help you.”
“I’ll need a basin and some warm water.”
While Gran went to fetch the water, Magnes began his work. He peeled back the coverlets to expose Ashinji’s torso, swaddled in bandages. He pushed the unconscious man over onto his side in order to look at his back. A large brown stain discolored the linen, something he expected to see.
Doesn’t look too heavy, though, thank the gods.
He dug in his satchel, retrieved a small knife, then began to cut the bandages. Carefully, he peeled away the soiled linen and bloody padding until his handiwork lay revealed.
The long, shallow slash across Ashinji’s ribcage looked good. The neat black stitches stood out in stark contrast to the paleness of the patient’s skin. The deep stab wound in the back, however, appeared red and swollen. Magnes leaned in close and sniffed. He breathed a sigh of relief.
No odor of rot…another good sign.
Gran returned with the water. While she held Ashinji up on his side, Magnes removed the sticky drain and washed the wound with an infusion of mallow root-excellent for inflammation. Next, he packed in a fresh strip of linen, applied a poultice of honeysuckle and comfrey and, with Gran’s help, bound up Ashinji in a fresh wrapper of clean bandages. Together, they changed the covering on the mattress and resettled the patient under a pile of fresh blankets. Throughout the entire procedure, Ashinji remained completely unresponsive.
“Where is Seijon?” Magnes asked as he helped Gran clean up.
“I sent the boy to get a bite to eat. Poor little monkey. He’s sick with worry. Ashi means the world to him.”
“I think I’ve come up with a workable plan to smuggle Ashinji and Seijon out of the city.” Magnes kept his voice low, even though he and Gran were alone.
“Tell me,” Gran responded.
“It all hinges on Mistress de Guera. You know she looks kindly on me ever since I gave her a remedy for her sick headaches. I plan on asking her to fund a traveling clinic for the Eskleipans. The wagon will need to be custom made, of course. It’ll have two storage bins beneath the main bed, plus a secret compartment Ashinji and Seijon can hide inside. You and I will simply drive the wagon out of town.”
Gran’s lips tightened in a frown. “The authorities may search the wagon at the city limits,” she said. “Many transports get stopped and checked before they leave.”
“I hate to ask because I know it’s a touchy subject, but what about your Talent? Can’t you use your abilities to…to…I don’t know, somehow cloud the minds of anyone who might get suspicious?”
Gran sighed. “I swore many years ago never again to use my Talent to manipulate another intelligent being. My own terrible arrogance and belief that I had the right to control others led to…well, to the destruction of everything I held dear.”
“This is an entirely different situation,” Magnes pointed out. “You’d be using your Talent in the service of good. I don’t pretend to understand all of it-evil spirits, a key, the end of the world-it’s all very confusing, but you’ve said so yourself…Ashinji has a vital role to play in this. Seems to me that none of us has much of a choice anymore.”
“You are right, my friend,” Gran murmured. She squeezed her eyes shut as if afflicted with a sudden, intense pain. “Ai!” she moaned. “Even after so many years…the wounds are still fresh!” She buried her head in her hands, thin shoulders shaking with sobs. Magnes could only stand helplessly by, unsure if she would recoil at his touch or welcome it. Tentatively, he reached out and laid a hand on her arm. Her skin felt smooth and soft, like that of a much younger woman. She did not shrink away, but neither did she indicate she wished for any more contact. Magnes contented himself with trying to emote as much comfort and sympathy as he could.
At last, Gran wiped her eyes. “Most times, I can cope, but every so often… Thank you, Tilo-or is it Magnes now?”
“Best I remain Tilo for the time being…At least until we’re out of Darguinia.”
Gran nodded. “You must be ready for a little refreshment,” she said. “I know I am. I’ll go and see what I can find for us in the kitchen.”
Magnes murmured his thanks as Gran left the infirmary. He stood for a few heartbeats, stroking his chin, and wondered if he would ever know the dark secrets that Gran kept locked away in the hidden storerooms of her soul.
Perhaps it’s best I never find out. Gran and I are alike; both of us have painful secrets that weigh us down. I wonder…Is the blood of family on your hands, too, Chiana?
Magnes remained for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, offering his services to any of the yard’s residents, both slave and free, who needed them. Gran and Seijon kept a constant vigil at Ashinji’s bedside, leaving only to tend their own bodily needs. Fadili showed up at sunset, stating his intention to remain and help for as long as Magnes needed him.
Just after moonrise, Ashinji grew restless and began to thrash and mutter. The fires of fever could be useful in small doses, but if left to rage unchecked for too long, they would consume the patient from within. Magnes, well aware of this, knew what he must do. The next few hours would prove crucial.
At Magnes’ direction, a pair of slaves brought a tub into the infirmary and filled it with cold water. With Fadili’s help, he first removed the bandages, then transferred Ashinji-still in the grip of delirium-to the tub and held him down while he struggled and raved. Gran positioned herself at his head and laid her hands on his temples.
“Quiet… quiet now, dear one,” she whispered, and after a few moments, Ashinji’s struggles subsided into sporadic twitches of arms and legs, though his eyes continued to jerk restlessly beneath closed lids.
Magnes watched and waited, and when he judged the patient had soaked long enough, he and Fadili lifted Ashinji out of the tub and held him up while Gran carefully blotted him dry. Together, they carried him back to the bed.
As Magnes redressed his wounds, Ashinji startled them all by abruptly sitting up. His eyes, round and glassy, focused straight ahead at an image only he could see. “Jelena!” he cried out in a voice made hoarse by illness. He then whispered a few words in Siri-dar and fell silent. A single tear rolled down his cheek.
“Ashi, can you hear me?” Magnes asked, but he got no response. Ashinji’s consciousness clearly wandered in other realms. After a few more moments of wide-eyed silence, he slumped back on the bed.
“Jelena…That’s Ashi’s wife’s name, right?” Seijon asked. The boy looked at Gran.
“Yes, it is,” she replied, and Magnes immediately picked up on the troubled tone in her voice.
“Is there something wrong, Gran?” he asked.
“There is much that is wrong, but I’m in no position to do anything about it at the moment,” she answered. “Right now, I must concentrate all of my energies on helping you keep Ashi alive.”
By the time Magnes finished with the dressings, shivers wracked Ashinji’s body. Gran piled on more blankets and they all settled in to wait.
The night crawled toward dawn. The moon, just past full, had slipped below the horizon when Ashinji once again grew restless with fever. Magnes and Fadili returned him to the tub for another cold soak.
“If the fever doesn’t break soon, he won’t survive,” Fadili observed grimly. Magnes knew the truth of Fadili’s words, but he still couldn’t bring himself to voice his agreement.
Ashi is my friend…I’ll be damned if I give up now!
Shortly before sunrise, Magnes roused himself and went to check on the patient. He sighed with relief.
The fever’s broken, thank the gods.
He grabbed a cloth and wiped the sweat from Ashinji’s forehead, then laid his hand against the skin, now cool to the touch. He lifted an eyelid and nodded in satisfaction. Ashinji had drifted out of delirium and into normal sleep.
The crisis is past…Now, it’s just a matter of time.
“That was close,” Magnes muttered. “Too close.”
“Ai, that it was,” Gran replied. She stirred in her chair, waking Seijon, who had fallen asleep while sitting on the floor beside her, his head cradled in her lap.
“Ashi!” the boy cried, scrambling over to the side of the bed.
“Quiet, monkey!” Gran scolded. “You’ll wake him and Ashi needs his rest!” She softened the reprimand with a gentle pat on the boy’s head. Seijon scrubbed at his tear-streaked face, gazing at Ashinji with love and relief in his eyes.
Fadili tried to hide an enormous yawn behind his hand. Magnes felt a pang of guilt. The young Eskleipan apprentice had been of tremendous help, giving his time and energy freely and without complaint.
Magnes rested his hands on the younger man’s shoulders. “I can’t thank you enough, Fadili. I know you didn’t have to stay here all night, but I’m grateful you did. It made things so much easier.”
Fadili shrugged and his generous mouth stretched in a tired grin. “You don’t have to thank me, Tilo. We are brothers. This elf is also your brother, which makes him mine as well.”
One last thing needed to be done before Magnes could return to the temple for a few hours of sleep. From the supplies in his satchel, he made up a mixture of willow bark, feverfew, and goldenseal.
“Brew this up as a strong tea and make Ashi drink it as soon as he wakes. He’ll hate the taste, I’m sure, so put a lot of honey in it,” he instructed, handing the packet over to Gran, who tucked it away within the folds of her skirt.
She nodded. “When will you return?”
Magnes raked a hand through his curls and scratched the stubble of beard sprouting on his chin and cheeks.
“This evening.”
"Concentrate, Jelena. Feel the dormant energy within the wick, take control of it…That’s it. Now, kindle the flame.”
“I’m trying, Sonoe, but I don’t think it’s working! Wait… I… yes !”
The little beeswax taper flared to life. Jelena gasped with delight.
“You did it, Jelena! Excellent! You see? I told you that you could.” Sonoe laughed at Jelena’s bemused expression. “You always underestimate your Talent, Jelena. You should never do that. Remember who and what you are. You’re an Onjara, and believe me, you’ve got the Onjara ability. You mustn’t be afraid to use it.”
Jelena nodded in agreement. “I hear what you’re saying, Sonoe, and I know you’re right. It’s just, well…until I came to Alasiri, I was a nobody…no, even worse, I was a despised nobody. It’s been a long, hard struggle to let go of all that and to see myself as worthwhile. Ashinji helped me the most, but so has my father…and you, of course.”
The windows of Sonoe’s private sitting room were thrown open to admit the soft spring breezes that wafted up from the gardens below, bringing with them the sweet perfume of the season’s first blooms. Sonoe and Jelena sat side by side on a silk upholstered couch, their bodies touching in the easy way of close friends. From across the room, gleeful giggles bounced through the air. Eikko and Sonoe’s maid Chiba had charge of Hatora, and the two hikui girls happily passed the cooing baby from one pair of arms to the other. Sonoe’s little dog Jewel spun and leapt around the girls in a frenzy of excitement.
Such peace, Sonoe thought. Pity it all has to end.
Her hand strayed to her bodice and pressed the black stone pendant secreted between her breasts.
Tonight, everything would change.
Sonoe reached out and laid a hand on Jelena’s cheek. Despite all her efforts, she had failed to quash the genuine affection she felt for this girl.
It will make her death so much harder to witness. If only a way could be found to spare her…
Sonoe sighed.
Such thoughts are counterproductive . Jelena’s fate was sealed long ago, and there’s nothing anyone can do to change it.
“Kindling a candle flame seems like such a little thing, though,” Jelena said. She reached out and snuffed the candle between her thumb and forefinger. “It’s a far cry from the powerful magic you and the other Kirians wield. I feel like a mouse beside an oliphant sometimes.”
Sonoe laughed. “Have you even seen an oliphant?”
“I’ve seen pictures…in books about the faraway south, out beyond the deserts,” Jelena replied. “There are leagues and leagues of forests so dense, the sun never reaches the ground. The humans who live there, the Eenui, are small and very, very dark-skinned. They ride oliphants, or so the books say. Mai Nohe’s father, Master Kurume, traveled to the Eenui lands, when he was a young man. It took him nearly a year to get there.”
“Tell me about Mai,” Sonoe prompted.
Jelena’s eyes swiveled downward and a stain of color crept into her cheeks. “There’s nothing to tell, really,” she murmured.
“If that’s so, then why are you blushing, pet?” Sonoe pressed, grinning. “You can’t hide the truth from me, dear heart. You know better. I think the handsome young swordmaster has turned your head!”
“We are getting to know one another, yes. I promised I’d give him a chance to win me over, and he’s certainly doing his very best!” A brief smile played across Jelena’s mouth, to be replaced by a frown of anguish. “Oh, Sonoe! What am I to do? Mai is handsome, kind, steady…”
Sonoe pursed her lips thoughtfully. “I can hear a ‘but’ that you’re not saying. Let me finish your sentence…‘but he’s not Ashinji’.”
“Am I being hopelessly pathetic for hanging on to my dead husband for so long? Gods, Sonoe, what’s wrong with me?” Jelena’s voice rose with her inflamed emotions. “I’m lonely and my child needs a father! Any other woman in my position would gladly accept a man like Mai, but here I sit, pining after a ghost when a living, breathing, wonderful man wants to share his life with me!” Jelena huffed and flopped backward into the cushions.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Sonoe soothed. “The love you and Ashinji shared was a very rare and beautiful thing, and it can’t ever be duplicated. You’re afraid that nothing else can ever measure up, but Jelena, there’s your mistake. Don’t even try to find the exact same thing you had, because you’ll fail. Accept what comes along for what it is, and happiness will follow.”
Such sage advice , Sonoe thought. The ironic part is, I meant every word .
Jelena nibbled on a fingertip, her humanish face a tablet upon which Sonoe could easily read all of her conflicting emotions. Clearly, Keizo’s daughter felt a strong attraction to Mai Nohe, but her love for her deceased husband had not diminished one whit.
Poor Jelena! You so much want to be reunited with your beloved Ashi. Well, my sweet friend, your wish will be granted very soon.
“Jelena, I’m so sorry, but I’ve just remembered something that I need to do. I must go.”
Jelena looked confused. “Now?”
Sonoe realized the abruptness of her departure would seem strange to the girl, but it couldn’t be helped. She needed to get away from Jelena, and quickly. The closeness she felt for Keizo’s daughter threatened to overwhelm her resolve.
“Yes. There’s a very important errand I need to run. Society business. If I leave now, perhaps I won’t get into too much trouble.” Jelena nodded in understanding. “Stay here as long as you like,” Sonoe added. “I’ll have more tea sent up for you.” She grabbed a light cloak, for where she must go would be chilly. “I’ll see you at dinner.”
She left Jelena and the maids to fuss over the new little princess, blissfully unaware of the coming storm that would soon alter all of their lives forever.
Sonoe paused in the hallway outside her sitting room door and cast a quick spell of concealment upon herself-a simple glamour, nothing more. She had no time for a true invisibility spell. Still, anyone who happened to glance her way would not recall seeing her.
Quickly, she made her way along deserted back hallways to the castle library. The place normally stood empty at this time of day, and today proved no exception. The mellow smells of polished wood and leather permeated the air. The library consisted of three interconnected rooms, each with its own collection of chairs and tables. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, each one containing many hundreds of scrolls, folios, and bound books. Narrow windows, glazed with expensive glass, pierced the wall space between the shelves, allowing in abundant natural light. Dust motes danced in sunbeams slanting to the mat-covered floor.
Keizo, never much of a scholar, rarely came here. His father, Keizo the Elder, had assembled most of the fine collection which now graced the shelves of Sendai Castle’s library-a collection that included many of the most important texts ever written about the magical arts. Chief among them were copies of the writings of the greatest elven mage to have ever lived, Iku Azarasha, head of the Kirian Society during the reign of Queen Syukoe Onjara, over a thousand years ago.
In one of these books, Sonoe had found the last information she desperately needed.
To be precise, the information she had been diligently seeking had not actually been in any of the texts themselves. While pouring over yet another volume of Master Iku’s meticulous accounts of the Kirian Society’s business, Sonoe had discovered-scribbled in the margin beside a description of the proper activation spell for a teleportal-the words “see Commentaries of Akan.”
After a long stretch of frantic searching, she had located the Commentaries -a tiny, fragile volume bound in crumbling green leather. In it, an obscure scholar named Akan had recorded his opinions on the writings of Azarasha.
The bone-dry analyses of some long-dead academic held no interest for Sonoe, and she almost returned the little book to its dusty perch high up on a neglected shelf, but something caught her eye-what proved to be a fold-out drawing at the book’s midpoint. Her eyes beheld a rendering of Sendai Castle as it must have appeared approximately two hundred years ago, when Akan wrote his Commentaries.
Sonoe had crowed in triumph when she realized what she had found. Only her discovery, several weeks earlier, of Master Iku’s personal account of the defeat of the Nameless One, had been greater.
The drawing of the castle had been marked in two places with Xs within circles. Across the bottom of the page, Akan had written Location of Sendai Portals in his blunt, inelegant hand. One of the portals was located in a room just off the Great Hall, the other in the library itself. It made perfect sense to Sonoe that the Kirians would choose to place one of their portals in Sendai’s library. They were scholars, after all.
The hardest part had been finding the library portal. It had taken her three days; the Kirians had hidden it well. When she finally did break through all of the wards and masking spells, the energy she dissipated in the process felt too fresh. She realized someone had been maintaining the magic. Only one other person in Sendai had the skill to do this, and since Sonoe hadn’t known of the portal’s existence until three days ago…
Damn you, Taya! What other secrets are you keeping from me?
No matter. If all went according to plan, that twisted, malevolent spirit of a long-dead king would be hers to command, not the other way around. At the proper time, armed with the most precious of weapons, Sonoe would finally turn on her master. Once she had accomplished that task, then her real work would begin.
After a quick mental scan of the rooms to assure that no amateur scholar sat studying in a cubbyhole somewhere out of view, Sonoe traversed the first two rooms on silent feet to the rearmost chamber. There, she entered an alcove lined with dozens of scrolls and reached up to the top shelf. Her questing fingers found a scroll that felt heavier than the others. She pulled down on it and the back wall of the alcove swung smoothly inward on well-oiled hinges-more proof that someone…no, Taya!-maintained this portal.
Sonoe slipped through the opening, pushed the secret door closed and plunged herself into total darkness. A whispered incantation conjured a silvery globe of magelight. The shimmering orb rose from her palm and floated overhead to cast its light down a stone staircase spiraling away into the earth.
Sonoe shivered and pulled her light wrap close about her shoulders. The temperature in these subterranean vaults never climbed much above the chill of an early spring night, even in the heat of summer. With the magelight bobbing along in front of her to illuminate the way, Sonoe descended. After exactly fifty three steps, she reached a landing. Stretching before her, a rough-cut corridor curved away into the gloom.
The flame-haired sorceress paused and breathed in the musty air, tasting the residue of past magic.
You tried to erase your trail Taya, but I know your signature too well!
Taya Onjara had despised her ever since their days at the Kan Onji School, when Sonoe had been an impoverished student, obliged to spread her legs to all comers in order to earn enough for tuition, and Taya had reigned as the wife of the king’s brother.
They soon became rivals. Both possessed Talent to a very high degree and the arrogance to flaunt it-Taya, by virtue of her exalted rank, and Sonoe, because of her burning ambition. It was inevitable that they should one day vie against each other for supremacy.
That day came when the school’s regents announced a contest of magic, open to all the senior students, to be held on the first day of the new year. The winner would receive free tuition for the upcoming term-important to be sure-but Sonoe really craved the respect and prestige a victory would bring. She felt sick and tired of noble-borns like Taya skewering her with their snobbery.
Sonoe bested Taya, but just barely; nonetheless, her triumph had been sweet. She indulged in a smug little smile as she savored the memory.
Soon thereafter, she came to the attention of Keizo, newly installed on his throne and searching for a suitable woman with whom he could enter into a contract. Sonoe’s common-born status made her ineligible for a royal marriage, but if she accepted his proposal, she would have certain legal rights as his official Companion, including the expectation of lifelong support, even though the king must one day put her aside to marry. Keizo’s choice to take a Companion instead of a wife had confused many in the court, but Sonoe didn’t question his reasons. She had a chance to rise higher than she’d ever hoped, and she had accepted with no regrets.
Several months after her attainment of full membership in the Kan Onji, the head of the Kirian Society, Master Shen Shineza approached her and invited her to join. She didn’t learn until much later that Taya had tried to block her nomination. When Master Shen died and left the Society without a leader, Sonoe lobbied for the post, but as future queen of Alasiri, and by right of precedence, the helm of the Society fell into Taya’s hands.
That loss had been a bitter blow. Sonoe had raged for months. The office should have been hers by right of superior magical skill. For the sake of the Society, she did her best to keep her anger cloaked in a mantle of amiability and cooperation, but occasionally, it broke through. She and Taya had nearly come to violence a few times, but had always managed to step back from the brink.
Controlling her feelings had been easier when there had been more active members in the Society, but, in the space of only a few years, their numbers had dwindled due to retirement, death, and the lack of suitable recruits. Sonoe found this good in a perverse way, for it made her plan so much easier to execute.
Everything depended on the Key, that all-important piece of magic harbored within Keizo’s daughter.
If only she could somehow study the Key’s unique energy signature before the Sundering! She had thought to try breaching the shields put up around it by Taya, but without the help of another mage, she risked killing Jelena prematurely. She had decided to abandon that course because she didn’t want to bring in an outsider.
Now that I’ve found what I need…
Sonoe planned to seize the Key for herself once it was released from Jelena’s dying body. First, she would summon the Nameless One, calling upon him to claim his prize. When he appeared-and all depended on her quickness-she would use the one weapon against him for which he had no defense. After using his true name to bind the Nameless One to her will, she would then turn his power against her fellow Kirians, destroying them. Rid of the only ones capable of stopping her, she would put the rest of her plan into motion by using the Key to unlock the source of the limitless magical energy that would give her power enough to fulfill her destiny.
Despite the magelight, shadows crowded around her, and her own shadow-a crazy, elongated thing-stalked her along the rough-hewn walls of the corridor. She followed the passage to its end at a simple wooden door. She tested the iron handle and found that it turned easily. She pushed the door inward and sent the orb floating ahead to illuminate a small, round room.
Carved into the hard-packed earth, a magical symbol marked the exact center of the circular chamber. Sonoe breathed a sigh of relief as she recognized the glyph for travel.
As soon as she crossed the threshold, she could feel the thrum of powerful arcane energies coursing through her veins like strong wine, setting her teeth abuzz and her skin to tingling. She walked over to stand on the symbol.
Sonoe reached into the front of her tunic and withdrew the black stone that served as her link to the Nameless One. She closed her eyes and let her mind relax and open. She felt for the strand of energy that connected the stone to its source and sent her consciousness winging along it.
When she pierced the icy black curtain that shrouded the astral space where the Nameless One existed, she called out to him.
I have found the portal, Master!
The Nameless One’s anger surged along the link and smote Sonoe’s mind. Your incompetence has kept me waiting! Your screams of agony will be sweet when I punish you!
Flames erupted all around Sonoe, engulfing her in smoke and the stench of burning flesh. Horrified, she watched as her skin blackened and withered against her bones. She opened her mouth to scream, but never got the chance as she felt herself sucked into darkness.
She landed hard on her side, skin scraping against stone. The bone-chilling cold dealt her shrinking body yet another blow, and for a few precarious moments, she could do nothing but lie on the brutal stone and gasp for breath.
Total darkness engulfed her, but even though denied the use of her eyes, she had her other senses, and they all screamed warnings of eminent mortal danger.
Some thing waited, crouched in the dark-something ancient and unspeakably evil-and Sonoe knew without a doubt that it could see her perfectly well.
Slowly, she rolled over and levered herself onto her knees. A quick mental assessment of her body revealed no serious injuries.
So. The flames were an illusion.
Fighting the shivers that wracked her body, she conjured a magelight and looked around her.
Sonoe found herself on the floor of what appeared to be a natural cave. She sent the magelight shooting up to illuminate the many teeth of rock that hung from the high ceiling, then brought it swooping down in lazy circles to cast light into nooks and crannies too numerous to count. All the while, she remained acutely aware of the entity that lurked just beyond her sight, watching.
Climbing to her feet, Sonoe pushed her tangled mass of hair out of her face and waited, the magelight hovering at her right shoulder. The foul presence of the Nameless One seemed to exist everywhere at once, and yet Sonoe could sense a distinct vortex of particular intensity in the shadows to her left. She turned to face that direction and watched as the shadows coalesced into something more solid.
As a trained sorceress and Kirian Society member, Sonoe knew better than to relax her shields in the stronghold of her master. Though the attack that had brought her here had taken her by surprise, she would not make the same mistake again.
The Nameless One lashed out, his polluted energy pummeling her from all sides. She withstood its corrosive force, but just barely.
Will I have the strength to do this? He’s so much more powerful than I’d thought!
Breath harsh with strain, she cried out, “Master, please stop!”
Give me one good reason why I should not burn you to ash where you stand, whore!
“Because then I cannot deliver to you that which I promised!”
She could feel herself weakening.
I can’t take much more of this!
“The plan is set,” she gasped. “The Kirians will gather in three weeks time to perform the Sundering! I…I…” No longer able to talk and resist the Nameless One at the same time, Sonoe threw up her hands and frantically traced a sigil in the air before her in a last, desperate attempt to stop the onslaught.
Abruptly, the attack ceased. Sonoe stumbled backward, slipped on a loose stone and went down, turning her ankle as she fell. Pain, sharp and hot, surged up her leg, wringing a soft moan from deep within her chest. The sound of grinding metal filled the air around her. A bitter curse dropped from her lips.
“You enjoy my pain!” she hissed, breathing hard. A quick mental probe of her ankle confirmed that she had only sprained it.
Thank the Goddess!
The deeper darkness that was the material manifestation of the Nameless One floated closer until it hung over Sonoe like a storm cloud, the two baleful red stars that served as eyes staring down at her.
Of course I enjoy your pain, slut. I enjoy pain in all of its many forms, but yours is especially sweet. I shall have you writhing in a moment, but before my pleasure comes business. Tell me of the plan…
Sonoe told him everything…except the part about her counter-plan, which she kept hidden within the special vault of her mind that no one, not even the Nameless One, could penetrate. Gritting her teeth, she then steeled herself to endure the spirit’s vile assault on her body for the last time. When he had finished and had flung her, bruised and bloody, back through the portal, she lay for a long time on the cold dirt floor, unmoving.
The storm is coming!
She climbed to her feet and stood for a few heartbeats, staring at nothing, listening to the voice in her head whispering, whispering…
The storm is coming!
The voice of her inner self.
You must be ready!
“I will ride the whirlwind,” Sonoe murmured aloud, then threw back her head and laughed in triumph.
Jelena , Ashinji cried, or would have if he’d had a voice to cry with.
She did not, could not, hear him.
A man-young, dark-haired and dressed in the worn leathers of a veteran soldier-stood beside her. His lips moved but Ashinji couldn’t make out what he said. Jelena moved closer and he gathered her into an embrace that bespoke of emotions much stronger than friendship. She lifted her face and their lips touched in a brief kiss. The man smiled and, taking Jelena by the hand, led her away. A thick, gray curtain of fog coalesced around the two of them as they receded into the distance.
Jelena, I love you! Please…wait for me!
Despair, like a wild thing, tore through Ashinji, leaving in its wake the realization that his wife-his best friend and the love of his life-had moved on without him.
Ashiiiinjii!
Was that his name he heard, or simply the keening of the wind?
Ashinji, come baaaack!
The sound kindled a spark of recognition in his sluggish consciousness. He knew that voice and he knew he should heed its command, but along that way lay pain, terrible pain. So much easier just to drift…
Ashiiinjii! Pleeese, come baaack, nooow!
Ashinji shivered with annoyance, or would have if he’d had a body to shiver with.
Leave me alone…I don’t want to go back! Why should I? There’s nothing left for me now. Better to stay in this soothing grayness…
The fog dissolved and Jelena once again stood before him, dressed in a long gown of red silk, holding a baby in her arms. She lifted the child over her head, laughing.
The vision struck at Ashinji’s frozen emotions, releasing them in a dizzying rush.
This baby Jelena cradled in her arms must be the child he had to leave behind a lifetime ago. What terrible sorrow Jelena must have suffered, giving birth to their child, all the while believing him dead! Should not the child they had made together have both of its parents to raise it?
Ashiiinjii!
He turned and moved toward the sound of his name.
Awareness returned slowly, and the unintelligible noises buzzing in his ears resolved into muted voices, discussing his condition.
“Look at his eyes. They’re moving.”
“Yes…I believe you’re right. Gran! Come quickly! I think he’s waking up!”
Ashi, can you hear me?
Mindspeech.
He recognized the voice that had called to him, imploring him to return and not lose himself forever in the gray fog between the worlds.
With tremendous effort, he opened his eyes.
“Ashi, praise the One! You’re awake.”
Ashinji struggled to focus eyes that had seen no use in several days. Gran’s face floated above him, looking pale and haggard, but clearly relieved.
Confusion washed over him. “Wha…what…h…h…happened?” he croaked. He attempted to sit up, but a combination of pain and weakness thwarted him.
“You don’t remember, Ashi?” Gran stroked his cheek. “You’ve been hurt. Stabbed. You’ve been unconscious for days; you very nearly died.”
Stabbed! When?
The last thing he clearly remembered was walking into the weapons shed. After that, things got hazy.
“I…don’t…can’t…” It took a big effort to speak. His tongue felt clumsy and thick, like a chunk of wood in his mouth.
“What’s he saying, Gran?”
That voice belonged to Seijon.
“He’s speaking in Siri-dar, and you would understand if you’d ever made an effort to learn!” Gran’s voice was sharp. “I don’t think he remembers what has happened.”
Ashinji struggled to pull together the fragments of memory that spun like dark motes before his minds’ eye.
I went to the weapons shed to put away some practice equipment… Something…no, someone attacked me there!
Images of a violent confrontation flashed to the surface, then with the abruptness of a dam giving way, all the memories of those terrible few moments, all the rage, the fear, and most of all, the sensation of the knife as it bit deep into his flesh, returned in a rush.
“Ai, Goddess!” he groaned. “L…Leal…st…stabbed me!”
“You do remember,” Gran said. “Ashi, let the memory go for now. Put it out of your mind. There’ll be plenty of time to deal with it later. You need to rest. Sleep, now.”
Sleep…that sounds wonderful. I’ll sleep, yes.
He closed his eyes.
When next he woke, the golden light of late afternoon filled the infirmary. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision and saw Seijon, perched on the foot of the bed, arms wrapped around knees drawn up under his chin, eyes closed. He looked like he was asleep.
“Seijon,” Ashinji whispered. The boy’s eyes flew open and widened with excitement.
“Ashi!” he cried, scrambling to the head of the bed where he flung his arms around Ashinji in a joyful embrace. Ashinji grunted in pain but slowly raised his arms to draw the boy closer.
“I’ve been so scared you’d die and leave me, Ashi,” Seijon mumbled against his neck.
For a few heartbeats, Ashinji felt too overcome to speak. Not until this moment had he realized his depth of feeling for this boy. This was the love between brothers that he had been denied with his own treacherous sibling.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere without you,” he whispered.
“Get off, monkey! You’re hurting him!”
Gran materialized at Ashinji’s bedside, arms sweeping the air before her as if she were attempting to shoo off an especially persistent pest. She glared at Seijon, but Ashinji could see the veiled amusement in her pale eyes.
“No, Gran, he’s not hurting me,” Ashinji lied. Gran cocked her head, disbelief writ plain on her face, but she refrained from comment. Instead, she poked Seijon in the ribs and pointed to the foot of the bed. Reluctantly, the boy loosed his hold and retreated to his former position where he flopped down, cross-legged, chin in hand.
“How are you feeling, Ashi?” Gran inquired, speaking Siri-dar as she always did when there were no humans present.
“Tired…very tired, and sore. Leal obviously did a lot of damage.” Ashinji paused, reluctant to ask the question uppermost in his mind, but he needed to know. “Leal…is he…?”
“Leal is dead,” Gran stated flatly. “And no, you didn’t kill him.” Her lips pressed together in a thin line. “I don’t know the whole truth of the matter, but I believe the mistress had him executed.”
“Shit!” Ashinji muttered.
“In case you’re feeling some sort of misguided guilt, young man, remember that Leal was a sadistic killer who hated our kind and preyed on those too weak to defend themselves.” She glanced pointedly at Seijon.
“I’m not sorry he’s dead, Gran,” Ashinji countered. “I’m just sorry it happened the way it did.”
Gran spent a few moments fussing with his blankets. He lay back and let her, knowing she did it more for her comfort than his. He felt as weak and helpless as a newborn-a sensation he thoroughly disliked.
“Gran, when I was unconscious, I think I dreamed you were calling to me, pleading with me to return. I also dreamed I saw Jelena.”
“Those were not dreams, Ashi. I did call to you. As for you seeing your wife, I’m not surprised. It’s very common for those wandering the plane of spirit to seek out loved ones, especially if there has been a separation on the material plane.”
“I saw her twice. The first time, she was with another man. I could see they had feelings for each other.”
“I’m so sorry,” Gran murmured.
“No, I understand, Gran. Jelena has accepted my death and has moved on with her life. I would want her to do just that. She’s too young to spend the rest of her life alone. It hurt, though…”
He fell silent for a time, eyes closed, meditating on the perversity of his fortunes. “I saw her again,” he continued. “She held a baby-our baby-in her arms.” He smiled. “Seeing my child for the first time…that’s what made me want to come back, Gran.”
As Gran opened her mouth to reply, the infirmary door swung open to admit Magnes. Jelena’s cousin crossed the room in five long strides, a broad grin on his face.
“Ashi, you’re awake! When did this happen?”
“Just a short time ago,” Gran answered. “What brings you back to the yard so soon? It seems like you’ve only just left.”
“I came back to tend Mistress de Guera-she’s down with one of her headaches.” He pulled a chair around to the side of the bed and straddled it. “I’ve got some news,” he said, looking at Gran and lowering his voice. “I’ve set the plan into motion. Your mistress has agreed to finance the mobile clinic for the Eskleipans. Construction will begin within the week. I estimate it’ll take about two weeks total for the entire project, including provisioning.”
“This is very good,” Gran said, nodding enthusiastically, but her expression soon darkened. “Two weeks. Not a lot of time, yet too much, considering the stakes,”
“What are you two talking about?” Ashinji looked puzzled.
“Escape, Ashi,” Gran said. “We’ve been working on a plan while you’ve been sleeping.” Briefly, Magnes related the details.
“I’ll just have to be ready,” Ashinji declared. He paused. “What about Aruk-cho?” He rolled his head to the side, directing the question to Gran. He did not worry the yardmaster would betray them at the last moment; rather, he feared the akuta would extend his assistance to the point where his position at the yard would be jeopardized. The very last thing Ashinji wanted was to see Aruk-cho ruined.
“Aruk-cho will be ready. All he needs is a few hours’ warning,” Gran replied. “If you’re concerned about him getting into any trouble, don’t be. I promised to shield him and I can.”
“Are we really leaving here and going to Alasiri?” Tense with excitement, Seijon’s voice piped a little too loud in the afternoon stillness of the infirmary.
“Hush, child!” Gran scolded. “You can’t speak about any of this! All our lives depend on secrecy. If the mistress were to find out…”
“She won’t from me,” Seijon promised solemnly.
“Gran, I trust Seijon completely,” Ashinji said. He smiled at the hikui boy and received a grin in return.
“Two weeks, then,” Magnes repeated. “Now, let me check your wounds, Ashi.”
With Gran’s assistance, Ashinji rolled onto his side and lay as still as he could while Magnes unbound and examined his wounds. Even though Magnes probed as gently as he could, Ashinji found it impossible not to flinch. After Magnes had declared himself satisfied, he re-bound Ashinji’s torso with clean bandages.
“Are you hungry?” Gran asked. “I can send Seijon to the kitchen for some soup, that is, if you think you can handle it.”
Ashinji shook his head. The mere thought of food caused his stomach to roil in rebellion. “No, not just yet,” he whispered. “I think I need to sleep for awhile longer.”
“Have some tea, then, at least,” Gran insisted. “You need the moisture.” Ashinji nodded in assent and Seijon scampered off to fetch the tea.
The sounds of late afternoon drifted in through the open windows. Voices raised in animated conversation, the bleat of a goat, the dull clack, clack of wooden practice blades striking against each other-all served as a reminder to Ashinji that life in the de Guera yard went on essentially unchanged, and it mattered not a whit whether he lived or died.
He felt grateful to be alive.
Seijon returned shortly, carrying a tray laden with a teapot and four cups. Gran stood up, took the tray from his hands, and set it on a small table beside Ashinji’s bed.
“I’ll stay with you, Ashi, while you sleep. I’ll be right here the whole time,” Seijon declared, flopping down in the chair recently vacated by Gran.
“I feel much better, knowing that you’ll be watching over me, Little Brother.” Ashinji’s heart once again swelled with affection for the boy.
“The patient is in good hands, it seems,” Magnes said, winking at Gran, who tried her best to look disapproving, but failed dismally.
“Child, you’ve been sitting by Ashi’s bed for three days straight!” she exclaimed. “When was the last time you ate anything, eh? When was the last time I ate anything for that matter?” she muttered as she poured the tea.
“I’m not hungry,” Seijon responded, “an’ I’m not leaving.” His voice rang with youthful defiance.
“Huh! Suit yourself, monkey!” Gran’s eyes flashed, then softened. “I’ll go to the kitchen later and bring you a little something anyway. You can eat it or not; I don’t care.” Even in his bleary state, Ashinji could tell Gran cared very much.
With Gran’s assistance, Ashinji drank almost a full cup of the lightly sweetened herb tea, then lay his head back on the lumpy, moss-stuffed pillow. The room grew soft and fuzzy around its edges.
Just before he slipped into sleep, an image of Jelena appeared before his mind’s eye. She looked up sharply, as if startled, and her lips shaped his name.
He tried to answer, but he hadn’t the strength.
"Hee hee! It’s grand, Tilo, just grand!”
Brother Wambo made no attempt to contain his glee. He performed an impromptu jig, his skinny arms and legs flailing like a manic scarecrow come to sudden, comical life.
Laughing, Magnes exclaimed, “Brother Wambo, if I had known you could dance like that, I would have suggested the temple put on recitals as fund raisers!”
The new Eskleipan mobile infirmary had been delivered that morning from the wagon makers’ yard, and all the inhabitants of the temple had gathered in the rear courtyard to admire the order’s latest project for serving the poor.
“Brother Tilo, we have you to thank for this marvelous thing,” Father Ndoma wheezed, his rheumy eyes squinting against the midday sun. In the harsh light, the old man’s skin looked like ancient leather stretched taut over a frame of sticks. The head of the Eskleipan Order had been unwell for several months, and it had lately become obvious that he would not last out the summer.
“I appreciate your kind words, Father, but the person we ought to be thanking is Armina de Guera. It was her gold that paid for this wagon,” Magnes replied.
Father Ndoma nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. We shall send a formal letter to the good lady expressing our gratitude.” A fit of coughing wracked his frail body and sent him sagging into the arms of Jouma the chirugeon and Ayeesha the midwife. Wambo shot Magnes a worried look.
“Perhaps you’d better go inside out of the sun, Father,” Magnes suggested. The rainy season had not quite ended, but already the days waxed warmer as spring took firm hold of the land.
“Ayeesha and I will escort you, Father,” Jouma said, gently taking the old man’s elbow. Together, he and the midwife steered their leader back toward the cool interior of the temple.
After the three had disappeared inside, Magnes turned to Wambo and said, “He grows weaker by the day.”
“Ndoma and I came to Darguinia together,” Wambo replied, voice heavy with sorrow. “So many years have gone by since, so many people have passed through our doors… Some we could heal, others we could not. For those whom our skills were not enough, at the very least, we helped to ease their passage to the other side. Now, the time draws near when I will ease my old friend’s passage and take up his mantle of leadership.”
“Everyone here has complete faith in you, Brother,” Magnes responded with heartfelt sincerity. He recalled the day when he had first arrived at the temple of Eskleipas, his spirit withering beneath the crushing weight of depression born out of guilt. Wambo and his people had offered him a haven, a place where he could, in time, come to terms with what he’d done and perhaps find absolution through helping others. During his time as an Eskleipan Brother, Magnes had managed to ease his tormented soul, and if he did not feel entirely at peace, he felt as near to it as possible.
“I can have the infirmary stocked and ready to roll in two days, three at the most,” he said. “Fadili and I have had time to make plans, so we know exactly what we’ll need. I bought a map of the local area in a shop near the palace, so I think it’s fairly accurate…I’ve marked the outlying villages we’ll stop at. I estimate we’ll be able to stay out two to three weeks at a time.”
Wambo nodded as Magnes spoke, thoughtfully tapping his strong white teeth with the tip of a forefinger.
“Hmm, yes. Excellent. You and Fadili will both be missed, of course, but this is important work! Jouma will have to resume the contract work with the yards. Hmm, we’ll be spread a little thin… Perhaps it’s time for a recruitment drive!” He slapped Magnes on the shoulder and grinned.
Magnes sighed. He felt torn between his desire to admit to Wambo the other use to which he would put the infirmary and his instinct to protect everyone at the temple. He hated the fact that he had to deceive his friend, but in the end, it was far safer that no one else in the temple besides Fadili should know the truth.
He glanced up at the hazy sky. “Speaking of the yards, it’s time I was getting over to de Guera’s. They’ve got at least five matches today, so I’m expecting a lot of injuries.”
The rest of the temple folk had returned to their duties, leaving Magnes and Wambo alone in the sunny courtyard. Magnes started toward the temple pharmacy where he kept his supply bag. Wambo fell in beside him.
“How is your friend the elf doing?” the old man asked.
“He is much better,” Magnes replied. “The elves are a tough race. I don’t know if a human could’ve survived the kind of wound Ashinji did. He is healing remarkably fast.”
“That is good to hear.” Wambo paused for a moment before continuing. “Tilo, when you first came to us, I sensed you were a young man in trouble. I have never asked you to reveal anything about yourself or your past, nor am I asking now.” He halted, and fixed Magnes with a discerning eye. “Whatever the circumstances that brought you to us, I am glad. I am glad that you became our brother.”
Magnes’ breath caught in his throat.
It sounds like Wambo is saying goodbye, as if he somehow knows I intend to leave and won’t be back. But…how could he know?
Until this very moment, in fact, Magnes himself had no idea he wanted to leave Darguinia for good, but now he realized that it had been his intention all along. He shifted nervously from foot to foot. Overhead, doves cooed and rustled in the eaves. A cloud drifted over the face of the sun, plunging the world into cool shadow. The wind began to gust and the smell of rain infused the air.
“I’d better get going,” Magnes said. Wambo nodded and turned to head back the way they’d come. Magnes watched him go, a deceptively fragile old man with a core made of the strongest steel. He would miss Wambo, and all the others at the temple who had come to mean so much to him, but something had changed. It took Wambo’s uncanny perception to bring it to the fore so Magnes would acknowledge it.
The time had come for him to return home to Amsara and face what he’d done. Thessalina deserved to know what had really happened, and Duke Teodorus’ spirit deserved the peace that the telling of the true story of his death would provide.
“Tilo, there you are!” Fadili called out, hurrying over to the pharmacy door where Magnes stood, thinking. “It’s getting late. We should go over to the de Guera yard now. The first matches are nearly over.”
“I was just getting my things,” Magnes replied. Hinges squealed as he pushed open the weathered wood door and stepped inside to retrieve his bag. Re-emerging, he smiled at the younger man and said, “Let’s go.”
“Everything’s ready, my friend,” Magnes said in a low voice.
“I’m ready as well,” Ashinji replied. Fighters, not so injured that they couldn’t walk but requiring Magnes’ services anyway, were trickling into the infirmary. “Let’s go outside,” Ashinji suggested.
Magnes nodded and called to Fadili. The young Eskleipan, who squatted over a female slave’s leg examining a nasty gash, looked up, eyebrows raised. “I’m going outside for a bit. Can you handle things?” Fadili flipped his hand dismissively, as if to say the question need not have been asked.
Magnes chuckled. “Fadili is turning out to be a fine healer. He really doesn’t need my supervision anymore.”
“I can see that,” Ashinji replied.
The two men stepped out of the infirmary into the cool of the blustery afternoon. The wind ruffled Magnes’ brown curls and sent loose tendrils of Ashinji’s blond hair whipping about his angular face.
Ashinji grew stronger with each passing day, but he was still far from total recovery. He tired easily and his wounds continued to give him a great deal of pain. The flight from Darguinia would be very hard on him and Magnes worried the effort might prove too much. Still, what choice did they have?
“Let’s walk over to the women’s barracks. Gran’s waiting,” Ashinji said, his voice catching a little as he spoke. He grimaced and rubbed his side.
“Ashi, we can wait another week if you need to,” Magnes suggested, keenly aware of the pain his friend tried to conceal.
“No, we can’t,” Ashinji replied, shaking his head. “If we wait much longer, it will be too late. Gran tells me she can feel the power of the Nameless One growing swiftly, even this far south. No, we must go now.”
They reached the shelter of the women’s barracks just as the first fat raindrops speckled the sand beneath their feet. Ashinji called out in Siri-dar, and a few moments later, Gran emerged from the dim interior of the long, low building. A frown deepened the creases at the corners of her mouth.
“Something has happened,” she announced. “I felt an unusual surge of energy from the north. It feels as though the Nameless One has broken free somehow, and yet, I still feel the main core of his energy remains below the Black Tower. I don’t understand this and it frightens me.”
“The mobile infirmary will be ready to go in two days. We can leave then,” Magnes said. He looked first at Gran, then Ashinji.
“Would that it could be today…” Gran shook her head in dismay, then sighed. “Very well. Day after tomorrow, then. I’ll inform Aruk-cho.”
“I’ll tell Seijon,” Ashinji said.
“No. Best to keep the boy in the dark until the last possible moment,” Gran advised. “His self-control is not the best.”
“Fadili and I will come with the wagon late in the day to show it to Mistress de Guera,” Magnes said. “We’ll stretch things out until it’s time for the evening meal. Since we sometimes stay and eat, no one should get suspicious. The most dangerous part is getting you,” he looked at Ashinji, “and Seijon into the secret compartment below the storage bins. If anyone sees you…”
“No need to finish those words,” Ashinji replied grimly.
“Once you two are in, Fadili and I will simply drive out of the yard.”
“What will you do, Gran?” Ashinji asked.
“Don’t worry about me,” Gran answered. Her impassive face gave away none of the secrets Magnes knew lay behind her pale eyes. “I can come and go as I please. No one will challenge me.” The rain fell steadily now, though not in torrents like it had earlier in the season; even so, the yard soon became a watery expanse across which people and the occasional goat stoically sloshed.
Magnes studied the two elves. Both stared out into the rain, their angular faces pensive. He knew the two of them shared a terrible burden-a task they must perform once they made it back to Alasiri, something neither one wanted to do, but had to, just the same. Gran had only hinted at its nature; what little she had revealed, Magnes had not fully understood, but that did not really matter. He was determined to see them safely to the border so they could return in time to accomplish what they must.
Once that’s done, I’ll go home and face Thessalina.
“I’d better get back to work,” he said. “Day after tomorrow, then.”
“Day after tomorrow,” Gran repeated.
Ashinji held out his hand and Magnes clasped it.
“Thank you, my friend,” Ashinji said. “Thank you for everything.”
“You don’t need to thank me, Ashi. We are family, after all,” Magnes replied.
Ashinji smiled. “Yes…we are.”
Two days later, Magnes stood with Fadili beside the infirmary wagon while Mistress de Guera admired what her funds had made possible.
“Why, this is wonderful!” she exclaimed. “You’ll be able to do so much good work with this infirmary.” She made another circuit of the wagon, nodding in approval. Corvin and Aruk-cho stood close by, both with crossed arms and neutral faces. A crowd of curious yard dwellers had gathered around at a respectful distance, whispering and pointing.
“It is gratifying to know my money is being put to such good use. When you first came to me with your proposal, Brother Tilo, I’ll admit I was a little reluctant, but now that I see the infirmary…”
“You’ll agree to fund it for the foreseeable future, I hope,” Magnes interjected, his voice dripping with charm. From the corner of his eye, he could see Corvin frowning. Mistress de Guera opened her mouth to respond, but Magnes forged boldly ahead. “We’ve estimated that it will take a mere ten to fifteen imperials a month to keep it fully stocked. Surely, such a small sum will hardly be missed from your coffers, Mistress, and you will get the satisfaction of knowing that so many people will be helped by your generosity.”
“You missed your calling, Brother. You should have sought employment at the palace. You’d have made a fine courtier,” the mistress commented wryly, one carefully tweezed eyebrow raised high. “Very well. I’ll agree to fund your infirmary…for the foreseeable future.” Magnes bowed his head in thanks.
I hope she doesn’t withdraw her patronage when she learns I won’t be coming back, he thought. Well, I’ve done my best. The future of the project lies in Fadili’s hands now.
“I know you have much work to do, so I’ll let you get to it,” the mistress stated. She motioned to Corvin with a terse flick of her finger, and the two headed back in the direction of her residence. The onlookers began to disperse. Magnes stood watching until he felt Aruk-cho’s massive presence loom at his back. He turned to face the yardmaster.
“Gran has told me about tonight,” Aruk-cho rumbled softly. “I will be ready.” Magnes nodded, his eyes shying away from the akuta’s craggy face. He did not want Aruk-cho to see his fear.
Despite how carefully we’ve planned this, something might still go wrong!
He stared at the yardmaster’s draft-horse sized hooves and imagined how easily they could crush a man’s skull.
He felt very glad Aruk-cho could be counted as an ally.
He had never been especially devout, but on this night, Magnes found himself offering prayers to any god who would listen. His entreaties must have been heard, for the night sky clouded over and hid the face of the moon, shrouding the earth below in almost total darkness.
As planned, Magnes and Fadili took their supper with Gran, Ashinji, and Seijon in the fighters’ mess, along with many of the other slaves. A cheerful mood prevailed, for tomorrow the entire yard would enjoy a day of rest. Generous rations of beer and wine helped the humor to flow, ribald and lusty.
Magnes kept a watchful eye on Ashinji, aware that his friend’s wounds still hurt him much more than he would admit. Even so, Ashinji gamely joined in the banter, knowing the five of them must all be seen behaving normally tonight. When the female slave named Leeta sidled up and sat next to him, pressing close and whispering in his ear, Ashinji made no effort to evade her.
Gran appeared interested only in her dinner, but Magnes could tell she, too, kept a careful watch, mainly on Seijon. The boy struggled to remain calm, but anyone who took the time to look would see his agitation.
Magnes leaned close to Fadili. “I’m worried about the boy,” he said in a low voice.
Fadili glanced casually at Seijon, then back to Magnes. He nodded almost imperceptibly. “Shall I take him outside now?” he whispered.
“I think that’d be best.”
Fadili made a show of finishing his meal, then stood up and approached Seijon, who sat to Ashinji’s left.
“Come, boy. I’ll look at that rash of yours now,” he said, loud enough that several others sitting close by overheard. Leeta snickered and someone else guffawed.
Seijon looked up in surprise. “I don’t…” he began, but Ashinji quickly interrupted.
“It’s nothing to be ashamed of, Little Brother. Go with Fadili.” He flashed the boy a reassuring smile. Seijon opened his mouth again as if to protest, but Magnes could see comprehension dawning in his golden eyes. Fadili beckoned with a tilt of his head, and wordlessly, Seijon got up and followed him out of the mess hall, the hoots and catcalls of the others ushering him away.
Ashinji’s eyes briefly locked with Magnes’ before he returned to his dinner and the seductive attentions of the gorgeous, red-haired Leeta. Drink had made her bolder, and Ashinji had a tough time keeping her at bay. Brazenly, her hand advanced along Ashinji’s thigh until he seized it in his to halt its upward progress. Magnes sighed and shook his head. Leeta exuded sexual energy like an intoxicating perfume. Magnes marveled at Ashinji’s self-control, but his friend had far more important things on his mind this night.
Magnes finished the last of his food, then stood.
“It’s time I was getting back to the temple,” he announced. “Gran, Ashinji, I’ll not be back for awhile. Fadili and I are taking the infirmary wagon out of the city for a couple of weeks.”
“We’ll miss you, Tilo,” Gran said.
“If the One is merciful, I’ll be here when you get back,” Ashinji added.
“Take care of yourselves.” Magnes waved and exited the mess. Quickly, he strode to where the infirmary wagon stood parked near the weapons shed, all but invisible in the darkness. As he approached, a deeper patch of shadow detached itself from the gloom and glided toward him.
“Everything’s ready,” Fadili whispered. “The boy is already inside.”
“Gran and Ashinji should be along very soon,” Magnes replied, his lips close to Fadili’s ear. “Have you seen Aruk-cho?”
“No,” Fadili said, then added, “Are you sure we can trust him?”
“Gran and Ashinji do, and I trust their judgment.” The two men moved into position beside the wagon, Fadili crouching down by the front wheels, Magnes standing at the rear. Anxiously, Magnes peered into the darkness, straining to catch any movement. Snippets of sound drifted past his ears-discordant voices raised in song, the trill of a nightingale, the restless sigh of the wind. Magnes forced himself to take deep, slow breaths, but his heart insisted on pounding against his breastbone until he thought it might tear itself free.
Where’re Ashi and Gran? What’s keeping them?
The wind picked up, gusting through the yard, laden with the smell of rain.
This is good, Magnes thought. Rain would discourage lazy sentries from too much diligence and keep the drunks ensconced in the taverns, thus reducing traffic on the streets.
“Someone’s coming!” Fadili hissed. Magnes pressed against the smooth wood of the wagon and held himself still.
Gran materialized out of the darkness like a wraith, gripping Magnes’ arm with startling strength. He stifled a yelp, then whispered, “Where is Ashi?” in a voice edgy with apprehension.
“He’s coming. He had to take care of someone first,” Gran breathed in reply. Magnes didn’t need to be told the name of that someone. “I should have taken care of her myself, but Ashi wouldn’t let me!” The old elf woman made no attempt to hide her irritation.
“I’ll go get the horse,” Fadili whispered. He disappeared into the dark. Magnes let out a ragged sigh.
Gran squeezed his arm reassuringly. “Don’t fret, Ti…I mean, Magnes. Aruk-cho has taken care of his end of things, as have I. When the mistress sits at her desk tomorrow morning to go over the accounts, she will find a small pouch with two hundred gold imperials inside. She won’t understand at first where the money came from, but when she discovers that we are all gone, it will make sense to her. Aruk-cho has promised he will try to talk her out of sending the slave catchers after us…or rather, after Ashi, for it’s his loss that will sting the most.”
“Do you really believe Mistress de Guera is in love with Ashi?” Magnes asked.
“It isn’t as far-fetched as it seems,” Gran replied. “Ashi is beautiful, even by elven standards, but perhaps love is too strong a word. I know she desires him and is powerfully intrigued by him. Maybe she does love him…Ai, here he comes!”
A figure approached, slipping furtively through the shadows. Magnes breathed a sigh of relief.
“Ashi!” Gran hissed. “We must hurry. Aruk-cho is waiting by the gate!”
“I’m sorry,” Ashinji whispered. “I couldn’t get away from Leeta. I had to go with her to…to her bed.”
“Ashi you didn’t…?” Magnes began, then stopped himself.
He owes me no explanations. He did whatever he had to.
The soft thud of hooves on sand signaled the arrival of Fadili with the horse.
“Let’s go!” Magnes bent down to reach under the wagon bed, his fingers questing for a tiny knob protruding from the undercarriage. He found what he sought and pressed. A panel popped loose and swung down, revealing a square opening cut into the wagon bottom.
“Is that you, Ashi?” a small voice whispered from inside.
Before he could answer, Gran gasped. “Someone is coming!” she exclaimed.
A light, bobbing and swinging, approached the wagon.
“Quick, Ashi! Get in now!” Magnes hissed, but Ashinji had already hoisted himself into the secret space. He reached down and pulled the panel shut with a snap.
“Magnes, act as if nothing is amiss. You have a reason for being out here,” Gran reminded him, her voice almost inaudible. “I will meet you at the gate.” She melted into the darkness as completely as if she, herself, were made of shadows.
Magnes walked to the front of the wagon to help Fadili harness the horse. The two of them worked in silence, each knowing the next few moments would prove decisive.
“Stop what you’re doing, healer and step away from the wagon!”
Magnes recognized the voice snapping orders from the dark. He and Fadili turned around as five figures moved with quick, purposeful strides to surround them.
His heart sank in dismay as he faced Corvin, Armina de Guera’s majordomo, and four armed men.
Magnes stood his ground.
“Good evening, Corvin,” he said.
Corvin swung the lantern up and caught Magnes in its glow. “I thought you and your assistant had left already.”
Magnes could not see the other man’s face, but he heard something in the majordomo’s voice that set off alarm bells in his mind.
“We were about to.” Magnes raised his hand to block the glare of the lantern. “Do you mind?” Corvin lowered the lantern, but his face remained hidden. Fadili shifted nervously at Magnes’ side.
Two of the burly guards flanking Corvin inched forward.
“Have you seen anyone out here?” the majordomo asked.
“Just you,” Magnes replied. “Why do you ask?”
“Don’t lie to me, healer!” Corvin spat. “I saw the tink slave come out here, and I saw him run toward this wagon!” He jabbed his finger in Magnes’ face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Magnes replied coolly. “My assistant and I haven’t seen or spoken to Ashinji since we left the fighters’ mess.”
The guards surged forward, swords drawn. Fadili cried out in alarm.
“It’s all right, Fadili!” Magnes shouted. “What the hell are you doing?” he yelled at Corvin.
“Shut up!” Corvin growled. “Move a muscle and I’ll have you both gutted like fish.” He motioned to the remaining guards. “Search the wagon,” he ordered. One man scrambled aboard the infirmary through the front while another threw open the rear doors and climbed in the back.
“You won’t find anything,” Magnes said softly.
Corvin stepped in close enough for Magnes to smell the aroma of garlic and wine on his breath.
“Do you know the penalty for aiding an escaped slave, healer?” the majordomo asked. Magnes remained silent. “I’ll tell you, though I’m sure you know already. You lose both your hands. Now, what good’s a healer with no hands, eh?”
Magnes shrugged. “That’s not anything I need worry about,” he replied. He shot a sideways glance at Fadili. The younger man’s eyes shone white with fear in the light cast by Corvin’s lamp.
“If I find the tink hiding in your wagon, you’ll know for sure what it’s like, and so will your boy, here.” He tilted his head toward the terrified Fadili. Magnes took a step backward and fetched up against the side of the wagon. Through the wood, he could feel the vibrations made by the two guards as they tossed the inside of the infirmary, and abruptly, his fear turned into anger. It took all his will to hold his fury to a simmer, for to allow it to boil over now would only invite disaster.
Magnes and Corvin stared at each other across a chasm of suspicion and anger. Intellectually, Magnus understood-sympathized even-with the other man. Corvin was sworn to the service of his mistress, obligated to obey and protect her from all things detrimental to her, including the theft of her property. Magnes respected the majordomo for his loyalty, but he would not let that stop him from doing what he needed to do.
Several tense moments passed, and then one of the guards poked his head out of the back of the wagon and reported, “Naught in ‘ere, sir.”
The other guard emerged from the front and dropped to the ground with a grunt. “Empty,” he confirmed.
“You see?” Magnes said. “It’s as I’ve said. We’ve not seen your lady’s pet since we left him in the fighters’ mess. Why don’t you go and look in the bed of that tall redhead-Leeta, I think her name is? When we left, she was practically riding him there at the table.”
Corvin lowered his head and spat on the sand. “Tell me now where the tink is and I won’t report you to the authorities,” he said quietly. Magnes thought he heard a note of desperation in the majordomo’s voice, causing him to wonder if the man feared some reprisal should he let Armina de Guera’s most prized slave escape.
“How many times must I say it? We don’t know where he is. Now, let us leave in peace.” Magnes took a deep breath and waited. For a single heartbeat, everyone stood perfectly still.
“Get them,” Corvin muttered and the guards pounced.
Fadili screamed. Instinctively, Magnes tried to shield the younger man with his own body, but without a weapon, against armed men in close quarters, he was helpless. A guardsman rapidly overwhelmed him, then crushed him to the ground, holding him down with the brutal pressure of boots upon neck and back.
“Don’t hurt my assistant!” Magnes gasped, struggling for air.
“ Tell me right now where the tink is or the boy dies!” Corvin screamed. Fadili’s terrified sobbing filled Magnes with sick dread .
If he dies because of me…
“Enough, Corvin! I’m here!”
Ashi, no! Magnes cried, but only in his mind, for sand filled his mouth and he could not speak.
“Let the healers go, Corvin,” Magnes heard Ashinji say. “They’re telling the truth. They had no idea I was here.”
“You’re a liar, tink,” Corvin sneered. “I saw you talking to them just before you disappeared. You’ll pay for this little escapade, I assure you, and don’t think the mistress’ll go easy on you just because she fancies you. Oh, no… that’d set a very bad precedent!”
“Let the healers go,” Ashinji repeated. Corvin laughed harshly in reply.
What transpired next Magnes felt, rather than saw. An explosion detonated close enough to pop his ears, yet he heard nothing. The pressure on his body lifted, and he scrambled to his feet, staring in astonishment. Corvin and all four guards lay sprawled, unmoving, on the ground. Beside the rear of the wagon, arms upraised like an avenging angel, stood Gran. Blue flames sputtered from her fingertips, then flickered out. Slowly, as if emerging from a trance, she let her arms fall to her sides.
How is it that Fadili and I are not unconscious? Magnes wondered as he reached down to help the trembling apprentice to his feet.
“Are you hurt?” he whispered, but Fadili could only shake his head, still too overcome with fear to speak. Magnes glanced at the fallen men, then looked at Gran.
“Are they dead?” he asked uneasily.
“Shouldn’t be, but we don’t have time to worry about them!” Gran snapped. “Someone inside’s bound to have felt the explosion and will be out to investigate. We’ve got to leave now!”
Quickly, they all climbed aboard the wagon. Fadili and Magnes positioned themselves on the front seat while Gran wedged herself in among the shambles at the rear of the wagon’s interior. Magnes waited until he heard the secret panel in the wagon’s underside slam shut before he picked up the reins. He shook them, and the horse leaned into the harness. The infirmary rolled forward, and Magnes turned the animal’s head toward the gate. He tried not to think of Corvin and his men lying on the sand, or of the consequences they would suffer because of tonight’s escape.
“Aruk-cho has opened the gate,” Gran called out. “Drive straight through without stopping,” she ordered. The wagon’s wheels glided easily over the sand. The black maw of the gate loomed ahead, and from behind, Magnes could hear voices raised in alarm.
Despite Gran’s order and his own fear, Magnes had no intention of leaving without a final word to Aruk-cho. He reined in the horse just inside the gate.
“Go! Go!” hissed Gran, but Magnes ignored her.
“Aruk-cho!” he called out softly.
The akuta stepped from the shadows, his massive body a darker shape against the black of the night.
“You must leave now, healer, or else all will be lost.” The akuta’s voice, like gravel swathed in velvet, sounded calm.
“I couldn’t leave without saying farewell to you, Yardmaster. I hope that someday, we will have the good fortune to meet again.” Magnes looked down as he heard the soft snick of the secret panel opening beneath the wagon.
“As do I.” Ashinji’s voice floated out of the dark below and Magnes could just make out his form standing by the front driver’s side wheel. “I am in your debt, Brother,” he added, “and if the One decrees it, then I shall some day have the chance to repay you.”
“You owe me nothing, Little Brother,” Aruk-cho replied. “Na’a chitatle ko.”
“And to you, my friend,” Ashinji said.
“Ashi, get up here!” Gran ordered. “We’ve run out of time, now go, go!”
Magnes slapped the horse’s rump with the reins and the wagon lurched forward as Ashinji, with Fadili’s help, swung up to the front seat, then scrambled back into the interior of the wagon. The horse broke into a lumbering trot as the wagon bumped and lurched over the uneven paving stones of the alley.
Magnes could not look back to see if Aruk-cho had managed to close the gate in time to avoid discovery, but he had confidence in the yardmaster’s ability to take care of himself. Aruk-cho would give them the head start they needed.
Magnes concentrated on steering the wagon through the maze of alleys that laced the environs of the Grand Arena, heading for the main ring road that encircled the entire complex. Once he had gotten clear of the arena district, he planned to take the most direct route out of the city.
He halted the infirmary on a side street just south of the main entrance to the Grand Arena to allow Ashinji to rejoin Seijon in the secret compartment. The clouds above spat fat droplets of water onto the land below. The wagon rolled through the rain-slick streets, passing shuttered shops, houses with windows aglow, and taverns with half-opened doors through which raucous laughter and snatches of song spilled out into the night.
Occasionally, a person on foot would emerge from the darkness ahead and hurry past to vanish into the mist behind. Otherwise, the streets were deserted. Magnes strained his ears for sounds of pursuit, but he heard none, and Gran, with her superior hearing and magical senses, had warned of nothing so far.
As they approached the outermost districts of the city, Magnes had to fight the urge to whip the horse into a gallop, knowing a wagon barreling through the streets late at night would almost certainly attract the attention of the constabulary. So far, they had passed several guard posts, unchallenged. The wet weather kept the city guards indoors, as Magnes had hoped.
No one had spoken since leaving the de Guera yard. Each of them remained wrapped in a cocoon of darkness and quiet, alone with his or her own thoughts. Magnes’ heart ached at the memory of cheerful, gentle Fadili screaming in terror as a guard had pressed a sword to his throat. He felt saddened by the possibility that the young apprentice healer might be forever changed by the trauma he had suffered at the hands of Armina de Guera’s guardsmen.
The hours passed and gradually, the slums of the outer districts gave way to suburban estates and then to open countryside. The rain slacked off, and overhead, the pale face of a three-quarter moon appeared amid shredded, racing clouds.
Gran finally broke the silence.
“Pull over to the side,” she said. Magnes did as instructed, pulling steadily on the reins until the wagon slowed to a stop. He set the hand brake, then turned to face Gran. She pushed past him and before he could ask if she needed any help, she had swung down off the wagon to the road.
Not for the first time, Magnes found himself surprised by the old elf woman’s vigor. She moved a few paces down the road and stood perfectly still, staring toward the city. In the moon’s cold light, her hair shimmered like silver-washed bone. It had come loose during the altercation at the yard and now hung down her back past her waist. Her slim body and flowing hair transformed her figure into the semblance of a young girl, yet an aura of immense power crackled about her like a mantle of lightning.
She turned in a slow circle, as if scanning the four directions, then walked quickly back to the wagon.
“I sense no pursuit, but there’s a large group of people just ahead,” she said. “I can’t tell who or what they are. They could be soldiers or a caravan of traders.”
Fadili fidgeted beside Magnes and for the first time in many hours, he spoke. “Perhaps we should wait here until sunrise.”
“Perhaps we should,” Magnes agreed. He climbed down and ducked underneath the wagon to rap on the undercarriage. The secret panel slid open and Seijon’s head popped out.
“What’s happening?” he asked breathlessly.
“We’ve decided to wait here until morning,” Magnes explained. “There’s a big group of people on the road just ahead and we don’t want to risk an encounter.”
Seijon slithered out of the hole to the muddy road. Ashinji emerged a few moments later, moving slowly, his hand pressed to his lower back.
“If we’re careful, we should be able to stay behind them,” Gran said. She laid a hand on Ashinji’s arm and spoke a few soft words in Siri-dar. Ashinji nodded and allowed Gran to take his head between her hands. She closed her eyes and a few moments later, Ashinji’s eyes fluttered closed as well. They remained thus for the space of several heartbeats, then Gran’s eyes opened and her hands fell away.
Ashinji sighed deeply. “Shiha, ” he whispered, which Magnes recognized as the Siri-dar word for “thanks.” It seemed to him that his friend’s pain had been eased.
Ashinji turned to face Magnes. “We need to take the shortest route north-preferably northwest-but there’s the problem of the Soldaran Army blocking our way.”
“Yes, and traveling by the main roads is risky, even though it is faster,” Magnes replied. “I think our only choice is to head northeast, toward Amsara. I know a less traveled route and there is a small road-a path really-that veers off the main road just south of the Amsara border and heads west. It bypasses the castle by a few leagues and ends up at the southern edge of the Eanon Swamp. You’ll have to skirt the swamp, unless you know a way through…”
“There are those of our people who do know ways through what we call the Shihkat Fens, but I’m not one of them,” Ashinji said. “No, we’ll have to go around.” He sounded weary and resigned.
“Eventually, we must try to get horses,” Gran said. “Fadili will have to leave us soon, and then we’ll be on foot. Without horses, this journey will take too long. We wouldn’t make it to Sendai in time.”
“I still have some money which I’ll gladly give to you,” Magnes offered. “It’s not a lot, but we should be able to bargain with a farmer or two for some nags.” He looked up at the moon’s position. “We have a few hours before the sun comes up. You all try to get some sleep; I’ll keep watch.”
Magnes settled on the front bench of the wagon to await the sunrise, while the others found what space they could in the back. Soon, the chirp of crickets and the slow sounds of people sunk in slumber were all that disturbed the quiet of the night. Magnes felt tired, the kind of tired that comes from an emotional as well as a physical place. Tonight had been harrowing, and yet, they had managed to win free with the help of an ally and a huge amount of luck.
Just how much longer our luck will hold…that doesn’t bear thinking on right now.
His thoughts turned to Jelena.
My little cousin…a princess!
He tried to imagine her joy when she and Ashinji were reunited.
Gods, how I wish I could be there to see that…to see you, dear cousin, and hold you in my arms once again, but I know it’s not possible, at least not for a very long time. I swear on my life, though, I’ll do everything I can to see that your husband gets home safely to you and your child.
He turned his eyes heavenward.
“Please,” he begged to any gods who might be listening, “ let us all come through this and be together again some day! Is that too much to hope for?”
The gods, if they heard, did not answer.