by Ian Gregoire
The notion that Kayden had come to Ladurona for the purpose of buying fashionable new clothes left Fay perplexed. As an objective in itself it didn’t make sense. Kayden had never expressed any interest in fashion, and even if she had she wasn’t permitted to be out of uniform when in public so she’d have little opportunity for showing off her purchases. Like any other wielder of Zarantar residing in the Nine Kingdoms Kayden was required by law to be identifiable as such by the clothes she wore. Fay’s mind raced to put the pieces of the puzzle together. Worryingly, the only conclusion she could infer from Kayden’s purchase of new clothing was that she didn’t wish to be identified as an apprentice of the Order—which, of course, meant she was up to no good.
“Kayden didn’t happen to mention where she was going, did she?”
“I don’t remember,” replied Tavio, sounding almost irritable.
“Mr. Esterado, you have already admitted to aiding and abetting a runaway apprentice trying to flee the Order,” said Fay. “If you want to avoid the legal ramifications of your actions, you had better start remembering.”
Tavio stared wide-eyed at her, his panic-stricken face disbelieving. “B-b-but… I… I didn’t know,” he stammered. “Once I brought Kayden to the shop she barely said two words to me. She mostly spoke with my mother, and as far as I can remember she never mentioned anything about where she was going afterwards, only that she was on holiday and looking forward to broadening her horizons. Or something like that.”
Broadening her horizons? What does that mean? thought Fay. Where Kayden was concerned it could mean almost anything, she realised. A subtle sigh escaped her lungs. “You can calm down, Mr. Esterado,” she said, conscious of the state of agitation provoked by her less than truthful threat of legal consequences. “Now that you’ve assisted me with my inquiries, you are no longer in trouble.”
Relief swept over Tavio’s face. “Thank you, Master Sanatsai,” he all but gasped. “I’m happy I could be of help to you.” Slowly he moved away from Fay. “If there’s nothing else I can do for you, I really must get going.” Without waiting for a response, Tavio marched down the street.
On her own once more, Fay was free to resume her departure from Ladurona right away. She suspected there was little more she could learn about Kayden’s movements during her stay in town so she was eager to return to Antaris. If there were any clues to be found about the whereabouts of her missing apprentice, they would be on campus—specifically in Kayden’s dorm room. She continued on her way, determined to remain optimistic about the fate of her young charge. Of all the things she had learned about her apprentice over the past five years, the most significant was that Kayden’s ability to take care of herself was more than equal to her ability to get into trouble.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The Seventh Sister
Early morning sunlight diffused through the branches and leaves of the woods, and Kayden surveyed the encampment in contemplative silence. Sitting with her back against the trunk of a sycamore, she chewed on another stoned date, still amazed by the number of people who had joined her march on the provincial capital, Sevdanor. Two days ago she had set off from Azderan with just a few dozen townsfolk for company, hoping their number would swell to at least two hundred with the addition of more volunteers picked up along the way as they passed through other subjugated towns and villages. No one was more surprised than Kayden that there was now over a thousand people dotted through the woods. It was an impressive accomplishment, yet it was already proving to be a hindrance.
Sevdanor was less than two miles away, and Kayden had originally planned to launch her assault on the town during the night, taking advantage of the element of surprise after a brief rest in the woods. She was prevented from doing so by the numerous complaints of tiredness among the ranks of her volunteer militia, many of whom couldn’t understand why they didn’t set up camp for the night then march on the provincial capital at dawn, after getting some much-needed sleep. Against her better judgement, Kayden reluctantly agreed to the proposal when one of the Sisters from the Azderan seminary reminded her that she wasn’t leading a battalion of trained soldiers into battle. Sister Valeria was right, of course. The thousand-strong contingent marching to bring an end to the organised banditry plaguing the province was comprised principally of townsfolk and villagers armed with axes, pitchforks, and shovels—most of whom had no practical combat experience. Even the presence of several dozen men carrying real weapons didn’t alter the fact that when the fight to liberate the town commenced, it would be Kayden and the six Jaymidari volunteers from the Azderan seminary doing the heavy lifting. This was a battle that would ultimately be won by mastery of Zarantar, not with conventional weapons.
Much to Kayden’s annoyance, that battle still hadn’t begun. She had risen before first light, but her attempts to rouse the camp were angrily rebuffed, and nothing she said or did could persuade her Anzarmenian hosts to give up their makeshift beds before sunrise. She was so incensed by their refusal she hurled insults at the ungrateful slobs, then decided that if these worthless people weren’t prepared to help themselves she would abandon them to the mercy of Baranzev Kazdaranian and his men, while she resumed her delayed journey to the city of Nagornorak. After all, her sole reason for being in Anzarmenia in the first place was to capture the infamous fugitive, Josario Sandolari, who inexplicably wanted her dead, not to end some tyranny that had nothing to do with her. Eventually, it was Sister Valeria who soothed her, and talked her out of leaving.
Now, seated in the shade of the tree, Kayden was hopeful that the march on the provincial capital would resume within the hour. She was uncertain of the time, but guessed that Ninth Hour was fast approaching—if it hadn’t arrived already. As she cast her gaze across the camp, she caught sight of Dashina sitting with her son, Tasarik. It had been a surprise to Kayden when the innkeeper’s wife volunteered to march with the militia, but she didn’t have the heart to tell the woman she had nothing to offer when it became clear that Dashina was hoping to find and rescue her abducted daughter. Kayden’s heart ached for the devoted mother. The march to Sevdanor was likely to end in disappointment for her, as there was little chance her daughter was still alive eight months after being taken by Kazdaranian’s bandits.
A quick glance at the six-strong group of Jaymidari sitting in a circle on the grass nearby reminded her of how fortunate and grateful she was for their presence. Aside from the fact that Valeria and the other Sisters had proved to be good company over the past couple of days, their willingness to participate in what was to come lifted a great weight off Kayden’s mind. Although their offensive abilities were extremely limited, due to the benign nature of the Sisterhood’s branch of Zarantar, what the six Sisters could bring to the table in terms of defensive capabilities would make them an invaluable resource in battle. Without them, Kayden knew she couldn’t guarantee no loss of life among the townsfolk and villagers who comprised her volunteer militia. And, though the presence of the six Sisters didn’t fully eliminate the risk, it did drastically reduce the potential losses they could suffer while taking the town of Sevdanor.
The sound of footsteps bounding across the grass grabbed Kayden’s attention. Rushing towards her was Sartis Halazarian, one of the first to volunteer for the expedition. In his early forties, Sartis was a tall, imposing man with a muscular physique, and dark hair tied back in a short ponytail. As a former soldier, he was one of the few men at her disposal with any military training—though that didn’t translate to actual battlefield experience. Nonetheless, she frequently made use of him to convey instructions to those Anzarmenian men who didn’t take kindly to being ordered around by a foreign woman.
“There’s something you need to see,” said Sartis, halting beneath the tree. “A quarter-hour ago the lookouts spotted someone approaching from Sevdanor.”
Kayden grabbed the canteen of water laying beside her. “Is it something we need to be concerned about? A scout, perhaps?” she queried as she poured
some water into the palm of her hand.
“Hard to say. It appears to be a lone man, travelling on foot.”
Setting the canteen back down on the ground, Kayden washed the sticky date residue from her fingers before rising to her feet. “I guess I should go take a look for myself,” she said. “Lead the way.”
At once, Sartis turned on his heels and marched away to retrace his steps. She picked up her siphon cloak and weapons then followed in his wake, leaving behind the rest of her things at the foot of the sycamore tree. A short while later they reached the edge of the woods where three men were crouching low beside tree trunks, staring out across rolling green fields leading to the provincial capital, Sevdanor, in the distance. Coming to a halt, Sartis pointed a finger to draw Kayden’s attention to the unknown interloper approaching the woods. Immediately she got the impression that the lone figure trudging across the grass was a woman, and everything about her appearance aroused Kayden’s suspicion. Whoever it was seemed to be wearing a dark, heavy overcoat—not in keeping with the warm, dry start to the day—and had a colourful scarf draped over her head.
“Sartis, take a couple of men with you, and ride out to meet our unexpected guest,” Kayden instructed. “It appears to be a woman. If so, find out if she’s a harmless civilian or a potential problem. If the former, encourage her to make a detour around the woods; I don’t want our presence here discovered. If the latter, detain her and bring her back to camp.”
“Yes, Commander.”
As much as Kayden wanted to reprimand Sartis for his continued insistence on addressing her as commander, she had long since abandoned her half-hearted efforts to stop him doing so. In truth, a part of her secretly enjoyed having somebody treat her like a legitimate military leader—it was a boost to her ego. The only thing that could flatter her more was to be addressed as Master Sanatsai.
“In the meantime,” she said, “I’m going to make sure everyone is ready to march within the hour.” She turned on her heels, leaving Sartis behind to carry out her orders while she headed back to camp.
Upon her return to the encampment, Kayden immediately barked orders, instructing her militia to pack up as swiftly as possible and be ready to resume the march on Sevdanor. She also let it be known that she wouldn’t tolerate non-compliance this time. Once she was satisfied that everyone had understood, she retrieved her belongings from beneath the sycamore tree under which she had sheltered during the night. Carrying her packed burlap sacks, she strolled to where Onyx was tethered with several other horses nearby. He seemed pleased to see her, and was content to allow her to secure her load over his rump before she departed towards the gathering of Jaymidari. As she approached the six Sisters a drop of water splashed on her forehead, and reflexively she pulled the hood of her cloak over her head, though there were no obvious signs of impending rain in the air.
Joining the Sisters, Kayden insisted that they finish packing their belongings before she spoke with them. After a few minutes of patiently watching the women ready themselves, she finally had the full and undivided attention of her Jaymidari counterparts. She proceeded to discuss with them the changes to her plan to take the provincial capital, necessitated by the earlier refusal to march on the town before dawn. When she had finished explaining what she had in mind, she was pleased to learn that it was within the power of the Sisters to make her proposals viable.
“Well, that’s a relief,” she said. “Attempting to take Sevdanor during daylight hours is going to be problematic, to say the least, so any and every advantage we can manufacture for ourselves will go along way to minimising potential casualties, especially on our side.”
The discussion was intruded upon when Sartis approached Kayden from behind, halting by her side. “Forgive the interruption, Commander,” he said, “but we’ve brought the mystery interloper back to camp.”
Kayden frowned. “A hostile?” she queried, surprised by that possibility.
“I’m not sure. She claims to be from the Sisterhood, and is asking to speak with whomever is in charge.”
“What do you mean, ‘claims to be’?” said Kayden testily. “Either she is a Sister, or she’s not.”
“Well, unlike the Sisters here,” said Sartis, gesturing at the group of Jaymidari standing before Kayden, “she isn’t wearing the robes you would associate with the Sisterhood. Nonetheless, she did provide a demonstration that she does wield Zarantar.”
For a moment Kayden was silent. On the eve of the assault to liberate the provincial capital a lone wielder of Zarantar had arrived at the camp after being spotted coming from the town. No, there’s absolutely nothing suspicious about that, Kayden thought to herself sarcastically, though she realised she would still need to ascertain whether her suspicion was justified or not. On the face of it, the mystery woman was either a Jaymidari, as she claimed to be, or she was a Sanatsai; and as Kayden had already discovered during her overnight stay in Azderan, Baranzev Kazdaranian did have Sanatsai recruits among his bandit hordes. Maybe this was an attempt to infiltrate the ranks of the militia, and sabotage it from within.
“Very well, Sartis, bring our visitor here,” said Kayden. “If she wishes to speak to me, I guess I’d better hear what she has to say.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Peering back over her shoulder, Kayden watched him depart, weaving his way through throngs of volunteer fighters busily clearing up camp. Before he was out of sight, she turned her head back around to address her Jaymidari allies. “Sister Valeria,” she began. “I realise Anzarmenia, unlike the Nine Kingdoms, has no laws mandating that all wielders of Zarantar must be identifiable by their attire when in public, but I’ve never seen a Sister wearing anything other than Jaymidari garb—whether in public or in private. Is it possible our mystery guest is telling the truth about being from the Sisterhood.”
“Yes, it’s possible,” replied the Sister. “Once Kazdaranian established his rule in Sevdanor, one of his first decrees was to ban members of the Sisterhood from residing in, or even entering the town.”
“The seminary outside Sevdanor was forced to shut its doors also,” interjected the short-haired Sister Karla.
“Indeed,” affirmed Valeria. “As a result, when there is a pressing need for one of us to enter the town, it obviously becomes necessary to avoid wearing anything that will give away our affiliation with the Sisterhood.”
“Interesting,” muttered Kayden, casting her eyes downward in contemplation. Banning all Jaymidari from the provincial capital suggested concern, maybe even fear, of their presence. But why would a renegade soldier of the Royal Guard like Baranzev Kazdaranian fear the Sisterhood? The institution was just as adamant, if not more so than the Order in its unwillingness to interfere in the politics of the lands in which it resided.
A chorus of murmuring filled the air, prompting Kayden to look back over her shoulder to see what was causing the commotion. It was Sartis, returning with the Jaymidari detainee who’d requested to speak with her. The unidentified woman was sandwiched between two young men acting as escort, guiding her forward by her upper arms as they trailed behind Sartis. She was wrapped in a woollen, dark blue overcoat that hung down to her calves, and she walked uncertainly across the grass—which wasn’t surprising given that she had a brown sack over her head.
They put a sack over her head? thought Kayden, incredulous at the sight. “Sartis, is there some reason for the bag over her head?” she asked, as the newcomers halted in front of her. “Were you hoping she wouldn’t be able to work out that you had brought her into the woods?” She shook her head in derision, letting it be known how stupid she found that notion, though it would have been clear from her tone of voice and facial expression.
Kayden didn’t afford Sartis the time to respond. Her rhetorical question didn’t require an answer so she had no interest in him providing her with one. She thrust out a hand, invoking Yuksaydan to lift the sack from the detainee’s head, revealing a patterned headscarf worn by the young woman underne
ath. As the brown sack fell to the ground, discarded, the woman’s eyes fluttered rapidly while she adjusted to the light. The moment she was able to focus again, the sight of Kayden caused her to visibly flinch, and her countenance was marred with alarm. Quickly, Kayden remembered that the hood of her cloak was pulled over her head, partially concealing her features. She pulled it back to show her face without impediment, but the gesture did nothing to calm the woman. If anything, she now seemed genuinely fearful.
“What are you afraid of?” Kayden asked, surprised by the woman’s reaction. “Was it not you who asked to speak to me?” She glanced at the two young militiamen restraining the mysterious visitor. “You can let go of her,” she instructed. They duly released their hold on the woman, and slowly backed away, giving her some space.
“You’ll have to excuse me,” said the stranger, seemingly recovering some of her composure. “I wasn’t expecting to meet…” Her eyes drifted down Kayden’s frame, head to toe then back again. Something in her gaze was unnerving. “You’re a long way from home,” she concluded.
It wasn’t entirely clear if the comment was a statement or a query, but Kayden ignored it all the same. “My name is Kayden Jayta,” she said introducing herself. “What should I call you?”
“Zarina Lutrozian,” she replied. “Sister Zarina Lutrozian.” Her eyes wandered to the six Sisters gathered behind Kayden. “Good tidings, Sisters.” Her salutation was promptly returned in unison, and she turned her attention back to Kayden.
“Sister Zarina,” said Kayden, “you were seen approaching from the provincial capital, and in light of the fact that the Sisterhood is currently forbidden to enter Sevdanor—which may explain why you are out of uniform—I’m curious to know why you were there, and even more curious to know what brings you here to speak with me.”