The Lilith Trilogy Box Set

by Kim ten Tusscher

  The ship bumped into the quay. The hawsers were thrown over the rail.

  “Come on, let’s go,” Seraph said to Nander.

  They disembarked before the ship was secured. Seraph turned around and peered at the people leaving the ship. He couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had been spying on him during the journey.

  “What is it?” Nander asked.

  Right at that moment, a man appeared at the rail. He glimpsed at Seraph. An icy gust of wind knocked his hood back, but before Seraph could take a good look at him, the man had pulled it back over his head and jumped over the rail. He purposefully walked across the quay to a tavern. Seraph shook his head. “I’m seeing ghosts…” He hung his bag over his shoulder and started walking. “I hope that we’ll find Lilith quickly, so that we can go back. Why didn’t Kasimirh send Ghideon?” It started to rain again. “Great, just what we need.”

  “Maybe they can help us.”

  Nander was pointing at a group of Inuuk who were trying to sell their catch of the day. Seraph nodded and approached the men.

  “This is the best fish you’ve ever tasted, guys. Straight from the sea onto your plate,” one of the Inuuk recommended when Seraph walked up to them.

  “No, thanks. Fish is for… is not my cup of tea.”

  He had wanted to say the servi, but that wouldn’t be smart in this company. ”We’re looking for the village where this harpoon point was made. Maybe you can help us?”

  Seraph produced the point from his pocket and showed it to the man, who gave it a quick once over and showed it to the oldest man in the group. He nodded.

  “Niul’s village.”

  “And where can we find Niul’s village?”

  “Even with fast horses it is at least a week’s travel from here. The village lies at the beginning of the mountain pass.”

  Seraph stole a glance at the fat nags tied up a bit further away. They would have to find horses somewhere else. He turned around.

  “I don’t know what it is that you’re looking for in that village,” the man called after him, “but you’d better hurry. They still lead a traditional life, so they’ll soon be leaving for the hunt.”

  Seraph raised his hand as he walked away.

  “In that case, we need to find the fastest horses in town,” Seraph said. He pulled his cloak tighter around him. Fortunately, it would take a while before the rain seeped through the thick wool. Judging by the clouds, however, this shower wasn’t going to stop anytime soon, and the town was situated quite a way beyond the harbour. “Why does Lilith always lead us into bad weather? First the hail and snow storms in Merzia, and now this.”

  “There’s a good chance the weather will become a lot worse before we find her. The hunt those men were talking about is the whale hunt. Which means we need to follow her further into the pole region if we don’t reach the village in time.”

  Nander pointed at the mountains in the distance. They were white with snow. Behind the mountains lay vast forests that turned into expanses of snow.

  “We really need to find fast horses,” Seraph grumbled.

  “Once we have Lilith back, exterminating the Naftalians will be much easier,” Nander said to make him feel better.

  “That’s about the only positive thing.”

  They reached a busy street. A cart rode by. “Can we ride with you,” Seraph yelled.

  “Just jump in the back!” the man answered.

  Seraph threw his backpack onto the cart and jumped in. He wasn’t sheltered from the rain, but at least he didn’t have to walk any more. He kept a watchful eye on his surroundings.

  “What are you looking for?” Nander asked.

  Seraph shrugged. “I’m not sure yet.”

  They passed houses and shops. At first, small houses belonging to the dockworkers, but gradually the houses became bigger and their occupants presumably richer. They wouldn’t stand much chance of finding shelter in one of those homes, Seraph knew.

  A bit further down the road they passed a tavern. There were two men guarding the door. The window frames were neatly painted, and the building breathed an air of cleanliness. An inviting glow came from behind the thin curtains. It looked like a very nice place to stay.

  “Is that a good tavern?” Seraph asked.

  The man on the box turned around and held back his hood to look at them. He smiled. “You’ll have to bring a huge amount of money to stay there.”

  Seraph jumped off the cart, followed by Nander. At the entrance of the tavern they were stopped by the two guards. Seraph showed him a piece of gold. “If you don’t mind, we would like to dry ourselves by the fire.”

  The man examined the money and took a step aside. “Have a pleasant stay, gentlemen.”

  “What are you up to?” Nander asked, after they had found themselves a spot in the corner of the room.

  “The guests of this tavern are wealthy. If we can find good horses anywhere, it’s here.”

  “I’m sure they’re well guarded.”

  “And there’s a good reason for that. I’ll think of something.”

  Seraph leaned back to create some distance from the little light in the middle of the table. When they had entered, all eyes in the tavern had scrutinized them. His scars had been regarded closely. He hadn’t only seen it, he had felt it as well. The stories about the Purifications were known in this area, but not many Purified people came here. Sometimes the idea of wearing a veil didn’t seem so bad, after all.

  A girl came up to them, swaying her hips. She swept a cloth over the already clean table. “What can I get you, gentlemen?” Still bent over, she waited for their answer. She winked at Nander and gave Seraph a long look.

  “Oh God, is this that kind of joint,” Seraph sighed almost inaudibly. Only now did he notice that the patrons were all male. Some of them disappeared upstairs with one of the waitresses.

  “Two beers,” Nander said with a smile. The woman walked away, still swaying her hips. “You were right, Seraph, these men are rich. And the women working here aren’t ugly.”

  The girl came back with two beers. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” She caressed Seraph’s cheek.

  He grabbed her wrist. “Don’t touch that! We’re only here to shelter from the rain and have a drink. Or isn’t that allowed?”

  Anger flashed behind the woman’s eyes. She straightened her shoulders, smoothed down her skirt, and resolutely turned around and stalked off.

  From that moment on they were shunned, and it cost them a great deal of effort to keep their glasses filled. As soon as Seraph or Nander raised his hand to order something, the girls started bickering among themselves who had to help them. After a while, Seraph threw some coins on the table and got up. “It’s time to move on.”

  “Do you have a plan?”

  “Of course.” He threw on his cloak and left the tavern through the backdoor.

  It was still raining. Seraph walked with big strides towards the stables. As Nander had predicted, there were guards here.

  Seraph pulled his hood further over his head. “We’re just checking to see if the horses are properly taken care of.”

  The two men looked at each other. Underneath his cape, Seraph was holding a long, slender dagger.

  “Of course the horses are properly taken care of.”

  “We trust that they are, but you know what our masters can be like: distrustful as hell.” Seraph shrugged.

  “And extremely demanding,” Nander added. “Considering the weather, we’d much rather be warming ourselves on a few women, but no, they send us outside.”

  The guards chuckled. “Go on then. Make it quick, and you’ll be back inside in no time.”

  Seraph inspected the horses. They all looked well-fed and muscular. In the back, there were two brown stallions occupying the largest stalls. The saddles rested on stands, and the halters and reins were hanging on the wall.

  “These two look fine to me.”

  Seraph put his hand on the ne
ck of one of the horses. The stallion snorted softly. They saddled the horses quietly. The rain thrummed on the roof. Seraph looked up and smiled.

  They led the horses to the doors. Then they tied the reins loosely to a beam and walked outside.

  “Everything looks perfectly fine. My master will be pleased,” Seraph said, patting the guard on the shoulder.

  “Now you can return to the women and beer.”

  “To be honest, we have different plans.”

  Seraph’s hand was still resting on the guard’s shoulder. He stabbed his dagger between the man’s ribs. The guard gave him a surprised look before he collapsed to the ground, coughing. Seraph retrieved his dagger and wiped the blade clean on the man’s clothes. Behind him he heard the thud of a body slamming into a wall. Seraph trusted that Nander had eliminated the other guard, but he nevertheless spun around abruptly when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

  “Easy,” Nander whispered. “We need to get moving.”

  They were surrounded by a wall of water. The rain drowned out all other sounds and obstructed their view. The light of the lanterns at the gate was hardly visible from the stables. Seraph and Nander collected the horses and walked calmly to the gate. Only at the last moment did the two gatekeepers notice them. They showed no intention of leaving the small space in the wall.

  “We need to leave, unfortunately. Would you be so kind to open the gate?” Seraph called out.

  “We weren’t notified about anyone leaving the tavern.”

  “Would you be in a hurry to deliver a message outside in this weather? We’re pressed for time!”

  One of the gatekeepers stepped outside. He raised his lantern and looked at Seraph and Nander. Then his gaze fell on the horses. He frowned.

  “Those horses belong…”

  There was a yell. The rain made it hard to determine where the sound had come from, but most likely the bodies of the guards had been discovered in the stables. Without a moment’s thought, Seraph killed the guard. Now the other one came outside as well. He attacked Nander, who pushed him aside and ran into the guard shelter from which he could open the gate.

  Seraph was fighting the guard that Nander had pushed away. Someone grabbed him from behind. Seraph cursed, where had that person come from so quickly? He struggled to break free. A fist hit him in the jaw. Seraph was stunned for a second. He felt a blow in his ribs. The dagger slipped out of his hand. The cold rain dripped into his neck, and the water ran down his back. It helped to clear his mind.

  He shoved the man who was holding him, and kicked the gatekeeper in the chest. The gatekeeper staggered backwards. Nander caught him.

  Seraph managed to break free of the other attacker and hit him. Water poured into his eyes, making it even harder to see. To the left of him he heard someone moaning, and then a shadow came at him. Seraph grabbed the man and threw him on the ground. He wiped the water from his eyes. He saw the glitter of his dagger that was lying amidst puddles of water. He jumped at his weapon. Before the man had crawled back up, Seraph killed him.

  He peered around. The gate was open, but there still wasn’t enough light to see everything around him. He recognized Nander by his silhouette and walked up to him. He almost tripped over the gatekeeper that Nander had fought with. The man moaned softly.

  “We need to find the horses and get out of here as fast as we can,” Nander said.

  Seraph nodded, dragged the gatekeeper up by his hair, and slit his throat.

  The horses had run away in their panic, and the rain made it impossible to spot them. “You go left,” Seraph commanded.

  The door of the tavern opened, and somebody shouted something. Seraph suddenly saw a horse walk past the illuminated rectangle. The second one had to be nearby. There was another shout. Seraph grabbed hold of the reins and called out for Nander. Pursued by shouting, they jumped on their horses and took off at great speed. They guided heir horses through narrow alleys until they reached a wide street that travelled up the hill and out of the town.

  Seraph started to laugh. “Well, that was easy.”

  Nander was less happy. “There was no need to kill that last man.”

  Seraph looked to the side. He always grew suspicious when someone questioned his actions. But this was Nander, he could trust him. He shrugged. “What does it matter? It’s for the higher cause,” he mocked. “Jakob will forgive us.”

  “You weren’t always like this…”

  That was true. Seraph had, however, long since passed the stage where it was hard to kill a human being.

  “So you didn’t kill the guard at the stables?”

  “It wasn’t necessary.”

  Seraph shook his head. “Are you afraid that some God will punish you or something?”

  “Just like you, I don’t believe in any God.”

  They rode on in silence. Seraph didn’t feel happy any more. Nander’s opinion was the only thing that really mattered to him. He hadn’t realized that his friend felt that way. As far as the Naftalians were concerned, Nander had never given a sign that he was bothered about killing them. Seraph opened his mouth to apologize, but instead he shook his head. He didn’t want to lie to Nander.

  With the adrenaline wearing off, the cold set in. He was soaked through. They were going to have to stop somewhere to dry their clothes, but Seraph discarded that thought. They were in a hurry.

  13

  The wind pulled at Ghalatea’s veil and sand chafed her cheeks. She turned around and opened her eyes. A sandstorm blocked everything from sight, but she was sure that there was a village in front of her. As she walked over there, she wondered to herself what she was doing in the desert.

  Sheltered by the earthen huts, she took in her surroundings. She felt a shock of recognition. This was where she had grown up. A bit further down stood her parents’ hut. She quickened her pace until she was running. Then she saw her husband.

  “Rogan? What are you doing here?”

  Sword raised, he came towards her and pushed her to the ground. A jolt of pain shot through her shoulder. Fighting back the tears, she sat back up. Rogan had thrown himself onto a servus. Ghalatea noticed that there were more soldiers, but also enemies. After the servus was beaten, Rogan walked up to her.

  “You must leave, it isn’t safe here,” he said. Ghalatea rose to her feet. She laid her hand on his shoulder, but he pulled free. “You have to wake up, Ghalatea. You’re only dreaming.”

  Ghalatea shook her head. “This isn’t just a dream. It feels the same as when I dreamed that my mother was killed. You need to be careful.”

  “Aren’t I always?” Rogan tried to smile, but she knew that he was worried, too. His soldiers had gathered around him. His unit had been halved.

  Ghalatea noticed the pained expression on his face. When they had first been together, his eyes had always smiled, but with the passing of time that smile had slowly disappeared. Now his eyes looked dull. The wrinkles in his forehead seemed even deeper. Fear came over her, because she knew that Rogan would give his life to protect his men.

  Suddenly, the fighting flared up again. The huts had changed into houses like the ones in Merzia. Ghalatea felt she was leaning against a stone wall.

  Afraid, she watched. Her husband brandished his sword with fervour. At times he ducked away only just in time to avoid the creatures that attacked their enemies with bare hands. She bit her fist in order not to scream.

  “Rogan, duck!”

  One of the soldiers appeared out of nowhere in front of Ghalatea’s husband and saved his life by killing a servus who had wanted to attack Rogan from behind.

  A burning piece of wood landed next to Ghalatea. She jumped. The house was almost entirely consumed by the flames. As she was running, she was joined by women and children. Servi appeared left and right. A woman was killed. Her child stopped running and cried. Ghalatea walked back to take the boy with her, but by the time she reached him, he was dead as well.

  She started running again, but no matter how hard she
ran, she couldn’t leave the square. She stopped. A soldier was attacked by a servus. His glassy eyes looked at her as he dropped down dead. His throat was a bloody mess that she didn’t want to look at. The glimpse she had caught had been more than enough. She retched. Another soldier was killed from behind. A bit further away a soldier beat a servus, but the creature was immediately replaced by another one. The servi made fast movements with their long arms. They fought without weapons; ten razor-sharp nails were enough to eliminate their enemies. There were so many servi and Rogan’s unit was greatly outnumbered. If it wasn’t for the men from the village joining the fight, the Merzians wouldn’t have stood a chance. In the distance, one of those men was doggedly fighting side by side with a soldier. Their battle was illuminated by the orange flames of the burning houses.

  Ghalatea’s eyes had already swept past the scene when she stopped to take another good look at the man. It was Pavel, the man that had brought Lilith to Nadesh. She realized that this was an important clue.

  Rogan was engaged with three servi. They circled around him and attacked in turns. Rogan tried to keep them at a distance with his sword. He chopped off a Muircadh’s arm. One of the others dived at Rogan and knocked him over. None of the other soldiers managed to reach him in time.

  Ghalatea ran towards him. The two servi threw themselves on her husband. Rogan managed to kick one off. Then he screamed. Ghalatea shuddered. This wasn’t good.

  One of the servi was dragged away by a soldier, the other one was killed. Ghalatea knelt beside Rogan. His side was slit open and his guts were coming out. She carefully held him in her arms. There was still fighting all around them.

  Ghalatea woke up.

  Tears were streaming down her face. Shaking, she searched for the light switch over her bed. Rogan had still been alive at the end of her dream, but… She discarded the thought and got up. He was still alive.

  She knelt down in front of her little altar. There were twelve figurines on it – one for each God – placed in a semicircle. The same number of candles stood on the altar. She lighted the candle for Wigg, the God of War. She noted that she would soon need a new one. Again.