by Drew Wagar
Probably married off to one of the richer farmers now.
Or she might be dead. Many of them slit their wrists at the first opportunity.
She’d grown a lot in the last few years herself, she was only a few passes away from being eighteen. The hall was only for young folks and now she would be taken down to Serenia with the rest. It terrified her to think of Tarq being interested in buying her, she would slit her own wrists first.
She’d often toyed with the idea of escaping, making a run for it. The idea thrilled and terrified her in equal measures. She was sure she could manage to survive in the wild; she’d had to supplement her meagre diet by catching and gutting marsips on many occasions, cooking them on spits over open fires. They made for good eating if done properly. Hunting on the edges of the forest was easy.
But to escape you couldn’t stay on the fringes. The town guards would find you and more than likely, make an example of you. Zoella had seen one girl caught after trying to escape. She’d been tied to a post and whipped until she died. Her bloodied body had been left strung up on the edge of town, eaten by vermin until nothing was left but the bones. No one tried to escape for long stretches after that. You’d have to venture deep into the forest to avoid the guards.
Thinking about the forest chilled her enthusiasm still further. Nobody went deep into the forest; too many people never came back. Every so often someone, or even a group of people, would claim to be intent on exploring its depths. The few that returned were usually hurt, infected or ill from strange afflictions that sent them mad, conjuring up stories of creatures that snatched travellers in the gloom. One minute they were walking beside you, next they were gone. Exactly what lay in the darker tracks of the shades no one knew, but it wasn’t friendly, that was for sure. The forest edge might as well have been a prison wall.
But what is worse? Death by being eaten, death by whipping, or a living death in Tarq’s bed …?
Raga nosed her gently and she looked up. Her face tear-streaked. She pulled the old carn close, rubbing his ears in the way she knew he loved.
I have Raga …
‘You’d come with me, wouldn’t you?’ she asked, her eyes wide with fear and trepidation, her mind already half made up.
Raga barked and nosed at her again. She pulled him into a tight, clingy embrace, burying her face in the soft skin of his hide before looking up at the forbidding gloom of the forest.
CHAPTER FOUR
Daine, Capital of Drayden
Round 2306, First Pass
The next thing Kiri remembered was music. No, not music; it was chanting, voices working in harmony. She had never heard such a sweet and melodic sound before. For a moment she could remember nothing. The haunting melodies felt as if they were massaging her spirit. She let her mind drift with them for a spell.
Then the pain returned. She remembered. Tia’s abrupt and horrible death. Running from Choso; trying to escape across the roofs, falling, kicks and rocks.
There was a voice in my head …
She tried to open her eyes, but something was tied across her face. She tried to lift her arm but found it was restrained. She moaned, squirming. Her head throbbed painfully.
There was a creaking sound, a chair moving backwards across a wooden floor. Footsteps, a hand touching her cheek and that strange tingle …
Excellent. At last, I’ve found you … now much can be done …
A deep female voice inside her head; soft and musical; much like the chanting. It was different to the one she’d heard in the street. A sense of satisfaction and barely concealed glee accompanied the words.
Kiri moaned again and then smelt a strange aroma. It was sharp and acrid. She tried not to inhale, but a brief sniff was all it took.
Then there was nothing left to her mind but the slowly fading chant, easing her to unconsciousness.
Kiri woke again, her mind sharp and clear. Time had passed, but how much?
And who spoke to me? Another priestess?
She tried to open her eyes just a fraction, but could immediately tell that there was a bandage across her face. She wriggled her ears, trying to get a feel for it. It felt thick but soft.
She turned her attention to her hearing, concentrating hard. She could distinguish nothing at all after a long spell of listening intently. There was no one nearby.
She was lying down on something. A bed? Her muscles were aching. The pain was duller than she expected after …
They stoned me!
She cast her mind back, trying to remember. It was hard to recall what had happened after she’d been kicked in the head, everything was murky in her mind. A priestess had intervened.
Then she remembered the terrified eyes, the clutching desperate hands, the blood. So much blood …
Tia …
Her friend and companion. Tia had saved her. Kiri wondered what Tia had tried to say as she choked on her own blood and the life went out of her. She would never know.
Kiri almost cried, but anger flamed around the grief, consuming it and burning brighter as a result. Her body shook for a moment before thoughts of vengeance, cold and calculating, chilled her. She lay still, remembering.
But Choso’s already dead. He fell and then …
The priestess, had she really been saved by one of them? She was sure she was going to die …
But why? And what happened just before that?
She remembered the strange sensation she had experienced and the cries of alarm from around her. It didn’t make sense. Why would a priestess intervene on behalf of a girl from the slums? She knew the disdain they typically had for the commoners. The priestesses and their servants were a caste apart, separate from the filth of others. So she’d been taught, so she’d seen.
She tried to raise her arms but found they were secured. The same was true for her legs and feet. She strained against the bonds, but she was too weak to loosen them. Perhaps with time …
Am I a prisoner? What do they want with me?
She heard low voices growing swiftly louder and instantly dropped back into the position she had awoken in, trying to hold her breathing in check. She heard the sound of a door opening, followed by footsteps. More than one set, she guessed it was two.
She felt fingers touch her neck and then that strange metallic tingle once more. It seemed to be accompanied by an urgent prompt that she must acquiesce to.
You are asleep.
It wasn’t a statement, but an order. In her mind Kiri frowned.
You are asleep!
The tone was forceful now, urgent and imperative. Kiri recoiled from it in surprise.
‘Well?’ a voice demanded. It was female, but sharp and incisive and to Kiri’s way of thinking, rather full of itself. She recognised it; it was the same voice that had called her ‘dirty and rank’ back in the street.
‘She’s asleep,’ another voice replied. It was far softer, sounding kind. It was the other priestess, the one with the magenta gown.
‘You are sure she’s the one you sensed?’ the sharp voice asked.
‘Merrin, I’ve told you. There can be no doubt …’
‘No doubt? Of course there’s doubt! Only high-born girls have the gift. How can this … she possess it? I don’t know how you’re going to explain this. She’ll need to be checked, examined and tested in the temple as …’
Merrin’s sharp voice tailed off abruptly and then, equally quickly, resumed.
‘What aren’t you telling me, Charis?’
The tone was even sharper, almost accusatory. Kiri heard a sigh.
‘They almost killed her,’ Charis said, softly. ‘In fact, by all rights she should be dead. They were stoning her. The first blows had already fallen. We were too late.’
‘What do you mean you were too late? She’s there! Battered, yes, but you rescued …’
‘I can only tell you what I saw,’ Charis continued. ‘As we approached she was surrounded by a crowd. They were hurling stones at her. She had already fallen; bl
oodied and bruised.’
‘And?’
Charis didn’t respond for a long moment. When she did her voice was hushed.
‘They clasped at their heads in pain, the whole crowd, it was as if …’
‘Don’t be absurd …’
Kiri wished she could see the women’s expressions.
‘That is what I saw.’
‘That’s impossible. You did this! You know the rules …’
Charis’ tone was soft and sure. ‘It wasn’t me.’
Now there was a longer pause. Kiri heard the pacing of footsteps tracing their way backwards and forwards across a wooden floor.
Finally the sharp voice spoke again.
‘You’re absolutely sure?’
‘I saw it with my own eyes.’
‘This is ridiculous, impossible! Charis, we spend years training to achieve influence and you’d have us believe this …’ the voice paused mid-splutter, ‘this guttersnipe managed it by herself, with no training, to an entire crowd, when she was half dead?’
‘I know it sounds unlikely, but the scriptures tell of those with such gifts. There have been others. Nerina for instance …’
‘Yes, we all know how marvellous Nerina is. Spare me the adulation once again …’
‘But the point is made, surely?’
‘Nerina, despite her many and obvious faults, has an impeccable bloodline and had every opportunity spoon fed to her from the cradle. Reason enough for the talents she possesses. Do you really think we can take an uneducated peasant from the sewer to the temple?’
‘If she has the gift …’
‘A slum girl? Seriously? Look at her, she can hardly be sixteen rounds old. You must have been mistaken.’
Kiri heard footsteps walking away from the bed.
‘I know what I saw,’ Charis said. ‘I think she’s older than that too, she’s half starved. She’s the right age.’
‘You had better be absolutely certain,’ Merrin replied. ‘Putting a slum girl up in front of the high priestess? You risk being cast aside for such arrogance. What if she’s a whore? How is that going to look?’
‘We need her,’ Charis said, her voice sounding plaintive. ‘The rebellions grow stronger, we may lose control. We’re overstretched on every side.’
‘We’re not that desperate we need to resort to recruiting her kind. Nerina’s got other ideas.’
‘What do you mean?’ Charis replied. ‘Nerina believes in keeping the peace, as we all do.’
Kiri heard Merrin’s tones drop.
‘As far as I can see, all Nerina believes in is Nerina. Whatever she does is aimed at improving her own standing and her powers.’
‘You do her a disservice. She understands our plight, she will accept this girl. A touch of jealousy, Merrin?’
Merrin’s voice betrayed an affected air of unconcern. ‘I’ll admit she has talents, but I won’t pin all my hopes upon her.’
‘We’ll see.’
‘We will. You know Nerina, she always gets her way.’
‘You’re being unfair.’
The exchange was followed by further footsteps and the sound of a door closing. Kiri listened again but could not hear anything. She let out the breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.
‘You can stop pretending you’re asleep now.’
It was Charis, the owner of the soft voice. Kiri gasped involuntarily.
‘It’s all right. You need not fear,’ Charis continued amiably. ‘Merrin’s ability to sense is rather limited, but you’ll have to try much harder to hide yourself from me.’
There was a note of amusement in Charis’ voice.
‘I don’t …’ Kiri tried to sit up, but the restraints and her own weakness forced her back. She felt a warm hand on her forehead. Her voice was a faint croak. She heard the bed squeak and move as Charis sat down alongside her.
‘You still need to rest. You were badly hurt. Touch and go for a while.’
‘I … where am I?’
‘You are in the temple infirmary, in one of the rooms of healing …’
‘I want to see … let me go!’ Kiri struggled against the bonds that were holding her down. ‘Let me scorchin’ go!’
‘Stop it, you mustn’t. Your injuries …’
Kiri shook her head and almost passed out from the pain, but she continued to strain against the restraints, her arm and legs flailing. She yelled out, summoning curses from the sewer in her frustration.
Kiri felt the hand tighten against her forehead. She struggled for a moment, but the grip was firm. The metallic tingle and …
Stop it! You’ll only hurt yourself. Calm down.
Kiri went limp in shock and surprise. The voice echoed around inside her head as if it were an empty cave. It felt as if she’d been shouted at, yet there had not been even the slightest sound. The voice had somehow conveyed genuine concern and worry. Kiri felt the warmth of it soothing her mind.
‘How do you do that?’ she managed to gasp.
‘It is called the seeing,’ Charis replied after a moment. ‘Some call it ‘the gift’. It is rare. It takes a long time to learn.’
‘How do …?’
‘There will be time enough for that. First …’
‘Who are you?’
‘My name …’
‘Charis,’ Kiri interrupted again. ‘It was you … in the street. It was, wasn’t it?’
Charis adjusted her position on the bed, releasing her grip.
‘Yes it was me. What is your name?’
‘Kiri. Why can’t I see?’ Kiri cried. ‘Am I blind?’
‘Your eyes are fine, Kiri.’ Charis spoke softly. ‘But your head is bandaged. You received a number of wounds. One was to the head. It was a nasty cut. We’ve been treating you. The wraps will be able to come off soon.’
Kiri relaxed back into the bed and let out a small sigh. Somehow she knew she could trust this woman, even though she couldn’t see her.
A first time for everything!
‘We’ve had to treat you for a broken leg, ribs, bruising and a number of bad cuts. No one seemed to know who you were. Where are you from?’
‘Here,’ Kiri replied, coughing slightly.
‘In the city? Where do you live?’
‘Anywhere,’ Kiri said with a shrug.
‘Who looks after you?’
‘I do.’ Kiri frowned beneath her bandage.
‘But you’re young, barely grown. Where are your parents?’
‘They died.’
Kiri felt the bed move again as Charis changed her position.
‘Don’t you live in the houses?’
Kiri laughed. ‘And be a slave to some mistress? No.’
‘You don’t live with anyone?’
‘I live with all the other onlies.’
‘Onlies?’
‘We call ourselves that. We live outside. We’re the onlies.’
‘And how many onlies are there?’
Fewer now!
Kiri refused to succumb to tears or grief and ignored the question, suspicious of where the questioning was going. ‘I’m no whore neither, kill anyone who says I am!’
‘I didn’t think …’
‘Are you going to kill me?’
Charis seemed taken aback. ‘Kill you?’ she asked in surprise. ‘Why would I do that?’
‘The boy, he fell,’ Kiri said. ‘Squish on the paving. Caved his skull. Glad he did, he was a murdering snut. But the crowd caught me and you caught me. Punishment. There’s always punishment. That’s the way of it. Everyone hates the onlies, priestesses, guards, no difference!’
‘You caused a stir,’ Charis admitted. ‘That’s for sure. But we don’t kill people without a trial and a sentence. Perhaps you can tell me what happened? How did you end up in the street like that?’
Kiri didn’t respond for a moment.
‘Who is Nerina?’ she asked ‘And what does she want?’
Charis chuckled. ‘You don’t miss much do you?’
‘I want to know,’ Kiri returned.
‘If I tell you about Nerina, will you tell me how you ended up in the street?’ Charis countered.
‘Maybe.’
‘You’ve got to promise. That’s how it works. It’s only fair.’ Charis’ voice was playful.
Kiri thought about it for a moment, but then relented.
‘I promise.’
Kiri felt her fingers held in warm and soft hands. She could tell that more bandages were wrapped around her palms and wrists. She felt Charis adjust her position on the bed.
‘Nerina is a priestess, like myself,’ Charis began. ‘You know about the priestesses I’m sure.’
‘Do you really rip the hearts out of men and eat them?’ Kiri asked, a touch too eagerly. ‘I hate men, it’s what they deserve. I’d do that if I could.’
‘You’ve heard tell of old tales.’ Charis laughed. ‘Perhaps it was done long ago. Men are given such tasks as they are capable of. They have no gift of course. They are not permitted in the temple.’
‘Good.’ Kiri shivered in revulsion. ‘Smelly, dirty, slow and rude …’
Charis laughed. ‘They do have their uses. How would the farming get done without them? Or repairs and the hauling of goods? We all have roles to play.’
‘They try to take the only girls sometimes. One tried to take me. He didn’t think I had a knife. I cut him good, won’t bother the girls again, that one!’
Charis paused. ‘Well. There is much about the slums you’ll have to teach me. But if you keep interrupting me with more questions, we’ll get nowhere, will we?’
Kiri reluctantly subsided.
‘As I was saying, Nerina is priestess elect. She is one of our most gifted …’
‘Elect? What does that mean?’
‘It means that Nerina will be high priestess when our current incumbent, Launa, passes into the after. Sadly, that will not be long. She is one of the youngest priestesses we’ve had in many a round; she has a remarkable gift.’
‘This “seeing”?’
‘Yes. We priestesses follow the scriptures vouchsafed from before the cold days, ordering society and people according to its dictates. For the most part this is quite ordinary and mundane. Folks need feeding, harvests brought in, taxes and tithes administered … those men need organising or they become restless.’