A Whisper of Darkness

by Troy A Hill

  Damn it! Don’t make me choose. Someone else might die if I didn’t stop that thing. But… I couldn’t piss off Penda.

  “Ludló,” Penda shouted, “get men after that creature. Pen it in, but don’t waste lives taking it down until I get there. Where’s my armour and sword? By Woden’s eye and beard, I want them now!”

  Chaos reigned in the feasting hall. The scene fast became organised chaos. Servants rushed in, pale and shaking. They spread out a mail shirt and draped it over Penda’s head.

  Others had gathered around Urthbert and the other guard the creature had attacked. Servants covered them with clothes. Dead.

  Guards were struggling to their feet and shaking their head or rubbing arms and grimacing with the pain of dislocations or other injuries. Talian was among them. He seemed whole and unscathed. Just dazed. I waved him to me.

  “Find yourself a real sword,” I yelled above the commotion. Ludló was shouting orders and shoving men towards their weapons on the wall. “Once you do, stay with Bleddyn.”

  “What was that…?” he asked, his face pale.

  I held his gaze until he nodded. We both knew. Undead. Evil.

  “Better question is,” I said, “who is behind it?”

  Servants held a cup to the lips of Father Adda. He was the one who had fainted at the sight of Undead Baldwin. He still looked pale and confused. Father Diuma was kneeling by the dead guards. He held his cross in his hand and moved it up and down, then side to side as he recited the prayers for the dead.

  “My shield,” Penda commanded. A servant held it out, and he slid his arm into the straps. They wrapped a leather belt with a scabbard around him. He already wore a helm. Hard steel with bands of brass around the edges. Flaps dropped to cover his ears and cheeks. Practical, but with some ornamentation. For a king, Penda seemed sensible and not ostentatious with his rank. Even the sword hilt was utilitarian. The only decoration was a pommel stone set with a triangular piece of red gemstone, overlaid with what looked like gold.

  I grabbed the arm of a servant. “Get a sword for my man, and for Lord Penllyn,” I said.

  “But, Your Ladyship…” the man said and shook his head.

  “Do it,” Penda commanded. By now, Lazlow was next to him, also wearing chain mail, helm, and shield. He looked at me. “Do you need armour or a shield?”

  I shook my head and took a step towards the main door.

  “No time for that, Your Grace,” I said and took another step, Soul in my hand, still aglow.

  “Let’s go find that creature and lay my man to the rest he deserves,” Penda said and jogged out the door.

  A few moments later, we were outside the main keep, trying to follow the commotion. Lazlow and two other guards accompanied us. One to either side, and one in front.

  I rotated my head to find the loudest commotion.

  “That way.” I pointed with Soul. Her goddess-induced fire flickered and went out. I had cut the connection so that I wouldn’t draw unnecessary attention. Penda and I rounded the corner between two buildings.

  Penda’s guards had ringed the creature in. A good score of men with sword and shield kept it centred in their midst. A few had helms or a boiled leather chest piece. None had mail. A few were down, not moving.

  “It dies… or whatever… tonight!” he said and charged into the melee.

  The creature that possessed Baldwin’s body still held two swords. But the metal had shifted. No longer bright steel. It was dark. Almost pitch black. The undead guard darted against the throng surrounding it, the blades glimmering in the night. No, glimmering wasn’t the right word. They wavered or pulsed with darkness. Another of Penda’s men fell, clutching his gut.

  “Where is that dark cloud you’ve been pursuing?” I sent to Gwen.

  “Still in the highlands,” she replied. “I can sense its passage above the land. The trail is at most a day old.”

  “Could it get down to Mercia within a day?”

  She paused for a moment. Gwen and Seren still shared my vision, so she could see what I saw.

  “I doubt it,” she sent. “I’ve seen no evidence it can move any faster than you saw that night in the cave.”

  By now, Penda was pushing his way through the circle. Two of the guards the creature had just engaged lay prone. Not moving. Damn it! He was heading right into that thing. Time to save Penda’s arse.

  I reawakened my connection to the goddess and let the magic relight Soul as I charged towards the fight. Penda raised his sword and bellowed, “Mercia!”

  “Ludló, sword!” I yelled as I charged in. I needed another blade, and he was across the melee, near the downed fighters. He took one glance at me, grabbed a downed guard’s weapon, and tossed it towards me, hilt first.

  Penda’s blade descended towards Undead Baldwin’s head. The corpse’s black, soulless eyes stared at the Mercian king. One of the ebony blades intercepted the strike. The other black sword darted in towards Penda’s knees. The king slammed his shield down to catch the blow.

  That creature was fast. Damn fast. Faster than Emlyn. His first blade twisted away from Penda’s blade. It, too, arced towards the king’s knees. Penda parried. I had to give him credit. The king had skills. But he didn’t have the speed. Baldwin’s blow was a feint.

  The creature slid out of line of a shield punch right as I caught the pommel of the sword Ludló tossed me. I shoved the power of the goddess into the second blade and darted into the fight.

  The second ebony blade sliced towards Penda’s head. His shield rose to meet it. Penda didn’t see the second blade about to slice into his back.

  My new blade slid into the gap between Penda and Baldwin’s second blade. Merda! That was a powerful blow. I had to pull strength from my demon to drive it out of line. The black blade screeched down my glowing blade. There was a charged tension where the light of the goddess met the soulless black of the blade. I expected sparks, like steel across flint, but instead waves and swirls of light and dark danced along where the blade edges contacted.

  I slashed Soul in towards the creature’s thighs. It stepped back. Fast. Too fast. This wasn’t like the undead I had faced at the abbey.

  The guards behind the creature pushed with their shields and kept him close to us. It flipped its second dark sword and stabbed backward, into the small gap where the rounded edge of the shields didn’t overlap. A blind stab that was right on target through that gap. One guard gasped and crumpled.

  Damn. Whatever had animated Baldwin’s body was a skilled fighter. And Baldwin’s black eyes never left me and Penda. With the eyes dark, I had a difficult time reading its gaze.

  Undead Baldwin stepped forward and launched another attack at Penda. I twisted my demon to pull undead speed and got in front of the blows. There was no time to worry about who was watching me. I prayed to The Lady that the men here tonight would worry more about why their dead compatriot was trying to kill them instead of how I could move so fast.

  Penda took advantage of the situation and thrust in with his blade. He caught Undead Baldwin right in the belly and twisted his blade. Baldwin’s corpse smiled and stepped towards the Mercian king, walking up the blade to get closer. Penda snarled and jerked his sword out. But he wasn’t quick enough to dodge the blow at him.

  I was fast enough to intervene, though. More energy from my demon, and I caught the blow meant for Penda’s head. I let Soul slide down the dark blade and link the hilts. The creature’s second sword flipped again and angled in towards my side. My other blade, still aglow, caught the ebony sword. I pushed Baldwin back, hard. That earned me a smile from the undead creature. It dropped into a guard position, similar to my own favoured one. Off-hand blade in front, main blade high and overhead, pointed at the opponent.

  Penda sidestepped behind Baldwin’s body. Smart. He would work as the distraction. Baldwin twisted and dropped an overhead at Penda. The Mercian king caught the blow with his blade and locked the ebony sword to the outside. That gave me an opening. I darted in wi
th Soul. Baldwin caught that blow with his second sword, light and darkness colliding in the night. My second sword was already slashing at his neck. He disengaged from Soul to catch that blow. That was what I needed. Soul slid into his side, just under the arm. I pushed more of the magic from the goddess into Baldwin.

  He seemed to glow then, Baldwin’s eyes flickering back into colour, just for a second. Then the corpse pivoted and flashed out in a kick to my belly. Damn! There was inhuman power in that blow. I flew back several paces. I had to use my hands, blades flat, to steady my landing.

  Baldwin kicked out again with a roundhouse sweep that caught Penda under his shield and toppled the king. The corpse looked at me, blinked once, then leapt.

  Holy Merda!

  The corpse of Baldwin sailed high, at least as high as the two-story keep at Caer Penllyn. Out, away from the circle of Penda’s guards. It landed and leapt again. This time across the palisade walls.

  Deodamnatus! I let several more curses pass my lips.

  “Your Grace,” an annoying voice said, “this is why you need our guild in your kingdom. With blades of silver to defeat such monsters.”

  I closed my eyes and swallowed hard. I prayed to The Lady to give me the ability to squelch my desire to slice the head from that guilder here and now.

  29

  The Queen's Word

  “Bleddyn is with him,” I sent. I added several curses. Seren gasped at the last one. Gwen chuckled.

  “Sorry,” I sent. “I forget you haven’t been around as many sailors as I have in the last six centuries.”

  “Father won’t agree to letting the guild into Penllyn,” Seren added. “But can he convince Penda to keep them out of Mercia?”

  “Paeda, that little kinglet son of Penda’s, is trying to get them in here,” I sent. “I understand that the newly converted can be zealous in their faith, but he is beyond that.”

  “You did well to not run Father Adda through,” Gwen sent, still with a hint of mirth in her mental tone.

  Our conversation was cut short by someone clearing their throat.

  “Ah, Lady Mair,” the familiar voice of Lord Chamberlain cut through the night.

  “Sorry,” I said and turned towards him. I was leaning on the wall of the parapet around the fort.

  Lords Chamberlain and Ludló stood on the wooden walkway above the palisade. Waiting for me.

  “Her Grace, Queen Cynewise, would appreciate a visit once they do not need you for the defence of Tamworth.” Lord Chamberlain gave a slight bow.

  “I will attend as soon as I am able,” I said, glancing at Ludló. “Any news?”

  “None,” he said. “For the second night in a row, we’ve searched the town and found nothing.” He looked over at Penda’s spymaster. “Anything on your end?”

  “Nothing, I’m afraid,” Lord Chamberlain added with a slight sigh. “My ears are better for gossip. We’ll learn more in the morning, once the town rouses and busybodies begin their twittering. By the afternoon, we’ll have learned if anyone saw our deceased guard bounding through the town or heard any of the commotion.”

  Ludló held a scabbard out towards me.

  “Can your belt handle two?” he asked. “Our men wear baldrics, but we can find you another belt if needed.”

  “Do you need this blade for your man’s funeral?”

  “Osmund, son of Tata, would be proud that his weapon was used to protect Penda, Overking of the Midlands,” Ludló said. “Please carry the blade until our current crisis is laid to rest.” He held the sword until I had the new scabbard on my belt. Once I sheathed the sword, I made several adjustments to its position, ensuring it was comfortable on my hip.

  “Please send a second belt to my quarters,” I said. “Do you need me here any longer?”

  “No,” the guard captain said. “Since we’ve no word of Baldwin in the town or fort, I have nothing for you to fight. The dead shouldn’t be walking.” He repressed a shiver. “You can get your rest.”

  “If you need me, once I’ve taken leave of Her Grace, I’ll be in the weapons hall. I doubt I’ll sleep tonight,” I added.

  Seren chuckled in my mind. “You never sleep,” she sent.

  “Quiet, or I’ll get conversations confused,” I sent.

  “Please don’t do so in front of Lord Chamberlain,” Gwen sent. “He suspects too much about our nature as it is.”

  “Lady Mair?” Lord Chamberlain said, his eyebrow cocked.

  “My apologies,” I said. “I keep thinking back to the last time I saw the dead walk. That wasn’t a pleasant night.”

  “So I have heard,” Lord Chamberlain said with a hint of a smile. Enough of one to make me wonder just what he knew. “Her Grace awaits you. This way, please.”

  “Be careful, dearest,” Gwen sent. “Cynewise lives up to her name. She is both wise and perceptive. She and Penda make a powerful couple.”

  “Thank you again for protecting our people,” Cynewise said.

  Interesting that she first mentioned the people instead of her husband. I nodded a quick bow in response.

  “Please be seated, dear,” the queen said. She sat back into a cushioned lounge chair next to the hearth and pulled a woollen blanket across her lap and feet, then waved to another near me. It lay folded on a pillow-topped stool in front of my chair.

  “I heard that you prefer warm feet,” she said. Her mouth twitched up into a smile. “Oh, don’t look shocked. Who do you think found our Lord Chamberlain and brought him to my husband’s attention?”

  Ah, that explained some dynamics. If the spymaster knew that—and he’d be a poor spymaster if he didn’t—then his allegiance would be first for the Queen, no matter who was King.

  I settled in, careful to keep my scabbards from banging as I sat. A serving girl brought me a wooden cup. The honeyed smell of mead drifted up.

  “Would you care for it mulled?” Cynewise asked. She waved towards the raised stone hearth where a small kettle hung above the coals. Iron rods protruded from the steam. The serving girl lingered nearby.

  “Not tonight, diolch,” I said.

  “You may leave us,” the Queen said to dismiss the girl. Once the door had closed behind her, Cynewise laid her hand on my wrist.

  “Formalities are done for the night, Mair,” she said. “I ask my friends to call me Cyn in private. Do you prefer Mair or Maria? Chamberlain said you are from the continent.”

  “I prefer Mair,” I said and raised the cup to my lips. Cyn’s hand stayed on my left wrist. She had given it a small squeeze.

  “You didn’t just request I visit to offer me a blanket for my feet and a cup of warm mead,” I said, giving her a smile across my cup. I mimed taking another sip.

  “You are also older than you appear,” the Queen said. “You wear your age well. What? Thirty winters?” She grinned, then apologised. “I know, we shouldn’t ask ages.”

  “More than thirty,” I volunteered. She wouldn’t tell the truth about her years any more than I would.

  “A widower and not married?” Her fingers were drifting along my arm now. Sometimes stroking my fingers. “Oh, yes, your connection to the church.”

  I raised an eyebrow, not sure where this was going. Better to play a waiting game.

  “I’m too thin for most men,” I said. “They prefer women of stouter stature to carry babies to term.”

  “Not all men require child-bearing services,” Cyn added. “My husband keeps the herb women busy administering their tonics to make his bed partners begin their cycles early.”

  “No royal bastards?” I asked, hoping the topic was safe, since she had raised it.

  “Not on either side,” the Queen added. Her fingers took hold of my hand and gave a gentle squeeze. I returned it carefully. Too much of a squeeze and I’d seem eager. Too little and I’d risk an insult.

  “Have you found your escort to your liking?” Her hand drifted along the bare flesh of my arm. “You’ve enjoyed her pleasures? I know you’re no stranger to the
pleasures of womanly flesh.”

  “She is most delightful,” I said.

  The Queen kept her gaze locked on mine. I held it, steady. Each of us trying to figure the other’s motivations.

  “I think I understand,” she said. “Another has your heart. A wise person might guess Lord Emlyn.”

  “More than a few suggested that,” I said. Her hand resumed its drifting caress along the skin of my arm.

  “Why not him?” She smiled. “Your skill matches his. Your men say you’ll both dance the night away. Is he as good in bed?”

  I raised my eyebrow again. A normal human woman might have blushed. I had enough of Thea’s blood in me that I could. Cynewise was playing another game. One of politics and sex. I wasn’t sure where she was going with it yet.

  “Oh, don’t answer, dear,” she added. “Penllyn’s swordmaster is not where your heart lies? You enjoy Thea’s flesh, and yet you rebuff my advances? Why is that?”

  I tilted my drink to my lips, then swirled the liquid inside it. As it slowed, I looked back to the Queen.

  “Ah, you are a difficult one to figure out, Lady Mair,” she said. After a beat, she smiled. “Titles and royal status don’t seem to impress you.” She pulled her hand back and raised her cup to her lips for a drink. “You play these games well, my dear.” She raised her cup to salute me, then took another sip. I gave her a smile, then mimed a sip.

  “I saw your eyes tonight when Father Adda approached. There is a story there, and one you don’t want to share.”

  “You are perceptive, Your Grace,” I said. “And you are correct—I don’t want to share it.”

  “Please, no formalities,” she said and squeezed my hand again. “Cyn tonight. I hope to earn your friendship.”

  “Are there friends in politics? Mercia will come first with you,” I said. “Just as Penllyn will be my priority.”

  “Yes, our first love is our own lands and people. But friendship can grow alongside those, just as our crops grow next to forests.” She reached back out, her fingers resuming their drift along my flesh.