by E J Pay
Spiro is engaged in mortal combat with an enemy guard. Spiro is old and the guard is young. Spiro has all but ruined his body with drink, the younger guard is virulent and adroit. He moves deftly about Spiro, striking at his aging body over and over again. Spiro is skilled in combat, but he is slow. I turn my thoughts to the enemy guard and urge slowness into his bones. The slowing creeps over him until his movements are almost halted. He looks like a man fighting underwater. His face is confusion and frustration. It looks like he is having a bad dream. A dream where he wants to run but all he can do is crawl. I’ve had those dreams and recognize the fear as it enters his eyes. Fear that I did not even have to send. He knows he is somehow overcome and he knows he cannot survive. Spiro brings his sword down to bear again on the man. His aim is sure and true and the enemy falls to the ground in an instant. His face is blank. His death was instant.
Spiro sinks to his knees, his robes are covered in blood. I run to him, dodging in and out of guards battling their opponents. When I reach him, his hands are holding his abdomen and they are red as the fire of the setting sun. He looks to my face and I kneel beside him. Spiro grasps for me and holds my hand. His hand slips in his blood so he grabs at my shoulder. He stares into my eyes, fear etched in their surface. I send him comfort. I know his time is near.
“I…I…I am sorry,” he says to me.
I cannot speak, I am too focused on helping him. I reach into his mind to see the memory he holds there. It is a memory of a conversation. I see him speaking to Nadir. I cannot hear their words, but Nadir is shaking his head violently no. Spiro reaches up to Nadir’s throat, squeezing and crushing. Nadir grasps at Spiro’s hands, scratching them in an attempt to get free. But it is no use. Spiro is large and strong. Nadir is small and weak. In a moment, Nadir lays on the ground, motionless.
In his memory, Spiro looks at his hands. They are shaking. He looks around and sees no one. He jumps to his feet and runs to wake his guards and driver. They are groggy, but quickly snap awake as they listen to their master. They ready themselves and their wagon with haste. They follow Spiro around to the back of the inn. He points to my shed. My shed. How did he know where I was? Did he kill Nadir because Nadir refused to sell me to him? The guards run to the shed with a rag and a sackcloth.
The memory ends.
I stare into Spiro’s eyes. They are wide and unblinking. The hand that holds my shoulder slips down my arm and falls to his side. His lifeless body hovers for a moment before falling to the ground in a silent heap.
My breath catches in my throat. I want to vomit and cry at the same time. Spiro killed Nadir. He killed the innkeeper because he would not give me to him. Spiro killed Nadir and then he kidnapped me. I could not stop him. Why?! Why?!
“Why?!” I scream at his frozen features. I hit his body with my fists. The anger and fear that made me a prisoner come out through my fists. Yes, he treated me well while I was here. But he had no right to me. No right to take me. No right to kill a man who didn’t give him what he wanted.
I punch his body until my arms are tired. When I finally slow down, a pair of hands reaches toward me. I cannot see who it is until they have me by the shoulders and are staring me in the face. It is one of the enemy guards. His face is covered in a beard. Food is caught in the whiskers on his face. He smells of wine and vomit. He snarls and I reach into his mind for an image of a woman, his Mother. He thinks he is attacking his Mother. He sets me down, screams an apology then runs away from me.
I am exhausted from the mental struggle and effort I’ve used today. But I cannot rest. I must find Gileaus.
“Athena!” I hear him yelling my name. “Athena! Help!”
I scan the courtyard like mad, trying to find his face, but he is not here.
“Athena!” I snap my head in the direction of his voice and see his face for just a moment.
He is in the arms of the enemy guards. Three of them are carrying him at once to a wagon that waits outside. I look for the estate guards to help, but they are all wounded or still fighting. I run to the man I love. I grasp the hamsa medallion around my neck.
In a flash before my eyes, I see myself. I am angry and afraid. The hamsa is off my neck and I am focusing everything on one person. My head screams with pain. The vision turns red then goes dark. I have seen the last memory of the guard I killed. I saw myself killing him and I felt his pain.
I shake the violence of the vision from my mind and keep running. I have to get to Gileaus. I run outside the gate to him. When I reach the guards, I breathlessly sing out the tune I sang to the dead olive tree. I feel the fire burning within me. It works itself free from my body and shoots into the eyes of the guards who are holding my love. At once all three of them scream, dropping Gileaus to the ground as they cover their ears. My singing has turned to screaming and all of my anger and fear find a new focus - saving Gileaus.
All of my muscles tense and I hold my arms near my face, my fingers spread toward the guards. I scream and send my burning hatred into them. They scream and twist on the ground. I feel the energy draining from my body. It is more than I can handle. I am getting lightheaded. As I fall to the ground, I see Gileaus running to me. It is the last thing I see.
Chapter 25
My wrists are burning. My ankles are burning. I am sick to my stomach and I turn my head to the side to let it out, but nothing comes. I am sitting in a chair, bound. My wrists are tied behind me. My ankles are tied to the legs of the chair. My eyes are covered.
“She’s awake now,” I hear someone mumble nearby. Who is it? Where am I? Why am I tied to a chair?
I hear footsteps coming closer to me. They stop.
“What is your name?” This is a man’s voice. Not the same one from a moment ago. This is someone else.
I say nothing.
“You don’t seem to understand the question.” His voice is laced with sarcasm and bitterness. “I said, what is your name, girl?”
Again, I sit silent. I will not tell them who I am. I hear muffled sounds as the man steps away from me. More footsteps come closer to me. There is a whistling sound in the air and I hear a crack as a searing stinging opens on my cheek. My head whips to the side with the force of the blow. I feel the warmth of my blood dripping down the side of my face. I let out a low, pained moan and I cry.
“Let her be for a moment, Demetrius,” I hear the first voice again. “It has to sink in a little.”
My entire face is wet with blood, sweat, and tears. I smell the dirt on my clothes from the courtyard, but I smell more than that. This room is bathed in mildew. I feel the damp from the walls seeping through my clothing and chilling me to the bone. Each footstep my captors make echoes around me, the crunch of dirt and straw beneath their shoes letting me know where they are at all times. I calm my crying and focus my ears. I know there are at least two of them with me. Are there more? The stinging in my cheek turns to throbbing as I raise my head and square my shoulders.
“There now,” Demetrius says in my ear. “Are you ready to tell me your name?”
I refuse to give them my name, but I also don’t want to be hit again. I decide if they are going to inflict evil on me, I will give them evil in return.
“My name is Ceto,” I say with my tired voice. The name coming through my lips with no thought at all.
“Ceto?” the other voice asks. “What kind of a name is that?”
“It’s a made-up name,” Demetrius says, “and the wrong answer.”
Again I hear the whistle. Again the cracking sound. Again the stinging.
“Demetrius!” the other man growls. “That’s enough! We are to question her, not whip her to death.”
Demetrius moves away, “I’m not whipping her to death, just motivating her.” I hear the rush of his footsteps toward me again. I duck this time and the strike misses my face. I hear Demetrius stumble as he misses his mark. “Why you little…”
“Demetrius! Out! Now!”
There is silence for a moment then I hear
Demetrius mumble something to himself.
“Fine,” he finally says out loud, “I’ll go. But when you’re really ready to get answers out of her, you’ll know where to find me.”
I hear Demetrius stalk away from me and out of the room. From the sound of his footsteps, I know that I am facing the door. If only this blindfold would come off. I could get a real feel for where I am. I hear footsteps coming toward me again. I brace myself. The person pauses, sighs, and gently pulls the blindfold from my bleeding face.
“I’m sorry about Demetrius,” he says. “He is the most vicious of our guards. I don’t know why he is the one always sent to deal with people. I personally believe we can get much more from treating people well.” The man is tall and strong, bearded, and wearing the robes and medallions of a soldier. “I am Captain Juri. I help lead the soldiers here. Demetrius is an under guard who serves under me, though we both answer to a higher master. Unfortunately, that limits the control I have over him.”
Captain Juri walks to a table about ten feet from me. Two more guards stand by the door, both with swords by their sides and knives in hand. Captain Juri fills a cup with water and brings it to me. “Here,” he says, “I’ll help you drink.”
The water is clear and cool and refreshing. I am grateful to have it in my parched throat. I finish the drink Juri has given me.
“Thank you,” I say.
“You’re welcome.” Juri walks back to the table, refills the cup, and drinks it himself. The guards by the door stare forward, eyes unblinking. I wonder if they are thirsty.
Captain Juri picks up a chair near the wall and brings it to sit in front of me. The back of the chair is toward me, and Juri sits with a leg on either side, leaning his chest on the back while facing me. He scratches his beard then rests his head on his hands.
“Demetrius gets it all wrong,” he says. “He thinks the right answer to every question is brute force. I don’t think he’ll ever learn the difference between getting answers for answer’s sake and getting the truth. I honestly don’t think he cares.”
Juri sighs then straightens his back. “You may have guessed by now, but we already know your name. What we need to do here is hear it from you. That way we know that what you are telling us is the truth.” He sighs again and shakes his head. “I’m sorry that Demetrius was the first to interrogate you. Our master insisted on it. If you will be honest with me, our master won’t require Demetrius to come to you again.”
“Who is your master?” I ask through the throbbing pain.
Juri clicks his tongue several times. “I’m afraid that isn’t how this will work, Miss. I am under orders to not share the master’s name with you. Naturally, I would want to tell you. But I have my orders, you know. I will do what I can to keep you unharmed, but there are some orders I cannot disobey. Please. Tell me your name.”
I blink several times as I think of what I am being asked. A name cannot be a harmful thing to share. But which name do they have? Here, Gileaus is the only person who knows I am also Pearl.
Gileaus.
“Where is Gileaus?!” I yell as I realize he is not here with me. The throbbing in my face grows worse with the effort. I am dizzy and feel nauseous. How could I have forgotten him for even a moment? He is the reason I removed my hamsa medallion.
My hamsa.
I look down and see it hanging around my neck. Relief floods through me. As long as I am wearing it, I can maintain control over my powers. I close my eyes and whisper, “Thank you.”
“Gileaus was brought in with you,” Juri says in answer to my question. “The guards in the courtyard came running to where you both were when they heard the screams of the other men.”
Silence hangs in the air between us.
“What did happen to those other men, Athena?” Juri asks. Good, he knows me as Athena. Without even trying I got him to tell me something he already knew and it is something I needed to hear.
“What happened to Gileaus?” I ask in return. I am carefully sending a willingness to share into Juri’s heart. He is smart and I am afraid that if I push too hard, he will feel my interference.
Juri gives me a sideways look, eyebrows furrowed. I’ve pushed too hard so I pull back on my urging. Juri is quiet for another moment before answering.
“Gileaus is here, Athena,” he says. “He is unharmed. He will remain that way as long as you cooperate.” A threat. So, Juri is not as peaceful as he lets on. He is willing to push if he thinks it will get him what he wants.
“Can I see him?” I ask.
“Not yet,” Juri replies. “But soon. First, I want to know more about you.”
My stomach turns. What does he want to know? Why does he want to know it?
“When the guards reached Gileaus, it looked like he was trying to put that necklace on you,” Juri tells me. “Why would he do that?”
I want to answer Juri’s questions. The more I can answer honestly, the more he will believe me.
“We are engaged,” I say. “Gileaus knows the necklace is important to me.”
“So, he wanted to make sure you were wearing a special necklace while men were dying all around you?” Juri asks. “I find that hard to believe, Athena. Even for star crossed lovers. How about you tell me why he really wanted to get that necklace on you?”
“I’ve told you the truth, Captain. Gileaus loves me. He knew I would want the necklace with me no matter what.”
Juri considers this for a moment then asks, “Why is the necklace so important to you, Athena? What about it is so important that your fiancé knew you’d rather be caught with it on than to escape without it?”
“My sister gave it to me,” I say, thinking of Dom and hiding him in a lie. “I lost her when I was young. I am never without the necklace.”
“Hmmm…” Juri says. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that. I lost a brother when I was young.” He is silent for another moment. “The piece of rope holding your medallion is worn and fraying. Certainly you would want a strong chain to hold something of such value. I would think you wouldn’t ever want to risk losing it.”
I don’t know what Juri is thinking of. His tone is unnerving. I am silent as he continues.
“Yes, Athena. I think I will do that for you. I will make sure you get a strong chain for your medallion. One that cannot be lost or broken so easily.”
“Thank you,” I say, unsure of what Juri wants, but not wanting to displease him.
“It is nothing,” he responds. “Think of it as payment. I’m sure you will help me. I would like to give you this good faith token on my part.”
I don’t know what Juri wants from me yet. He still thinks I’m Athena, a servant of the house of Spiro and fiancé to Gileaus. There can be nothing special that he is after. Yet.
He is quiet for another moment. Then he stands and puts his chair back against the wall. He walks closer to me, pauses, then says, “I think I will call for some food for you. I want you to be fresh and well.” He touches my hair and my spine shivers. “I would have you untied, but you haven’t proven yourself that far yet. Guard!” One of the men by the door steps forward, “Have some food brought up for two - some for me and some for our prisoner.” The guard bows and leaves the room.
Juri turns to leave. “I’ll be gone for only a short while, Athena. When I return, we shall eat together and have a little chat. I want to know more about what happened to the guards at the estate.” What do I tell him? I cannot reveal my powers. I am in trouble and I have no idea where Gileaus is being kept.
Chapter 26
Idon’t have much time to act. I turn my attention to the remaining guard in the room. I search his thoughts and find an image of a young girl, a sister. I cough and he looks up. But he doesn’t see me. He sees the girl from his memories. He sees his sister, tied to a chair and bleeding.
He gasps, jumps up and runs to my side.
“Isidira. How did you get here?” he asks. “What happened?!” he is untying my ropes and I send him both confidenc
e and fear. Confidence that he can set me free. Fear that if he doesn’t hurry, he’ll be caught. He unties my second ankle and I stand.
“You are free now, Isidira. You must go home,” he says. If only I could obey that command. “It isn’t safe here. You’ll be harmed if they find you here.”
“What is going on here?” I ask, breathless and eager for information.
“I cannot even say the words, Isi,” he says. I send him truth and honesty. A desire to share everything with his sister. “Political intrigue,” he says. “Sorcery. They are planning a coup in the government. They are killing their opponents and searching for those with powers to make their enemies crumble.”
So, that is why Spiro was killed. He was their enemy. Whoever they are. Whoever this master is.
“A man was brought here with me,” I tell him. “He is a nobleman’s son. His name is Gileaus. Have you seen him? Do you know where they are keeping him?”
I hear a creak and the guard and I both turn to the door. Captain Juri steps inside, Demetrius is right behind him.
“Well,” Juri says, “and what have we here? Consorting with the prisoners?”
The guard stands between me and Juri. “She is not a prisoner. She is my sister!”
“Your sister?” Juri asks. “What sister? Isidiri? But isn’t she dead?”
The blood drains from my face and the guard spins on his heels to look at me. He still sees his sister. I am about to let him see the truth when he returns to facing Juri.
“Isidiri is not dead,” he says in a whisper. “She is here and I will not let you harm her.”
Demetrius lets out a low chuckle. “Indeed,” he mumbles to himself.