Enchantress (The Evermen Saga, Book One)

by James Maxwell

  A great bright flash came out of the trees. Stars sparkled across Ella’s vision. There was a sound of crashing through the trees.

  Then there was silence.

  They both stood, panting, faces pale in the light of the nightlamp. Finally Killian spoke.

  "Are you all right?"

  "Yes. Yes, I’m fine. But if it’s ok with you, I don’t want to sleep with my arms bound anymore.

  Killian chuckled. Ella laughed too; it had a slightly hysterical edge to it.

  "Here," Killian said. "I’ll come and sit next to you. You catch some sleep."

  "We’ll take turns keeping watch."

  Killian nodded, "We’ll take turns."

  ~

  ELLA watched his chest rising and falling as he slept. He tossed fitfully, his skin was clammy. Perhaps his wounds were infected. She decided to have a look at them when morning came.

  She caught herself. What was she doing? She should be smashing his head in with a rock and running off in the morning with the Lexicon.

  There seemed to be some kind of change coming over him though. She didn’t know what it was, but she could hope. And it was no time for her to be in the wilds alone.

  There was a small amulet on a chain around his neck. Ella had seen it before, when he had been half-drowned in the Sarsen and the High Enchantress had removed his shirt.

  She leaned forward, carefully watching his eyes and listening closely for a change in his breathing. The front of the amulet was plain, simply decorated with a pretty design. She could just make out the back. There were runes there.

  She leaned her arm over him and, as carefully as she could, lifted the hanging pendant. She turned it over, her arm precarious over his body. There were runes inscribed on the back. She read the matrix; it wasn’t a common sequence, but it wasn’t uncommon either.

  She frowned in puzzlement. When activated, the sequence would cause the amulet to disappear. It was a novelty trick, used for lovers to mysteriously cause their gift to appear out of thin air.

  To add even more to her perplexity, the runes were dead. The essence had drained long ago. The amulet wasn’t even functional.

  Killian breathed deeply. Ella froze. Her arm was still across his body. She let go of the amulet just as he pulled it away from her touch. He moved his body, nestling in to her. Her arm now lay across his chest.

  Ella stayed motionless for a long time, then relaxed. She could feel his heartbeat under her arm. Her head was nestled in the crook of his arm. His breath came softly on her cheek.

  She would wait until he was deep in sleep again, and then she would move. She would wait just a moment…

  43

  Reputation is the shell a man discards when he leaves life for immortality. His character he takes with him.

  — Sermons of Primate Melovar Aspen, 540 Y.E.

  ELLA and Killian both woke at the same instant. It was sometime before dawn. He looked about in confusion, noticing her cuddled up to his body. She could not read the expression he gave her.

  "I… I don’t know what happened. I guess I fell asleep."

  "Shh!"

  At the edge of hearing, Ella heard a man’s scream. It was suddenly followed by a roar, a wild cry of triumph. The wailing sound rose and fell, as if a man was in deathly pain. "Do you hear that?" she said to Killian.

  "It sounds like the beast found other prey tonight," Killian said.

  The screaming continued for hours, until it was suddenly cut short. Ella trembled.

  She felt a warm presence as Killian moved closer to her. She felt his arm go around her. It gave her a wonderful feeling of protection.

  The first vestiges of grey tinged the black sky as the sun rose to another dismal day. When it was light enough to see, they gathered the camp together and began the day’s journey, neither mentioning the fact of Ella’s unbound hands.

  The sky above rumbled softly as if perpetually on the edge of a mighty storm. Ella stayed close to Killian, the memory of the man’s scream still fresh in her mind. Killian set a brisk pace.

  "We’ll need to make a great deal of distance today," he said. "We need to get to a town. I fear we may not survive another night with whatever it is that’s stalking us. The nearest town is Torlac, most of the way to Tlaxor, the burning city. Torlac is a common way-stop for the merchants bold enough to trade with the Petryans. It’s on the edge of the great volcano, Halapusa."

  "Can’t we just turn back?"

  He shook his head. "No, it’s behind us, whatever it is. Besides, we would never make it to another town before nightfall. It must be Torlac." He looked at her sharply. "You’ll have to be very careful. They bear no love for Alturans in these parts. That blonde hair is a dead giveaway."

  He smiled at her forlorn expression. "I like it though."

  She smiled wanly back.

  They managed to find a clear stream where they could refill their water bottles — they’d been running dangerously low. Killian teasingly asked Ella if she would like to take a bath, receiving a sharp blow and a heated blush in return. She still didn’t know how much he’d seen that day; even thinking about it was embarrassing.

  The sun came out for a moment, and it was with lighter hearts that they marched along the dusty road, the fears of the night temporarily banished.

  The road began to incline, rising steadily. They passed through gullies and ravines, the rust-coloured rock jagged and unyielding.

  "We’re already on it, you know."

  "On what?"

  "Mount Halapusa."

  "We’re on a mountain?"

  He grinned, "Yes. It’s immense, isn’t it? I can’t imagine how huge it must have been before it blew, to leave behind such an immense crater. It must have been the biggest mountain in the world."

  "Do you have big mountains in your land?"

  He smiled at her. "Not too subtle. We have one mountain. It isn’t very big but it’s very famous."

  "Stonewater! You’re from Aynar!"

  He smiled. "From Salvation, to be specific."

  She decided to keep the tone light. He was finally talking.

  "What’s it like there?"

  "You’ve never been on pilgrimage?"

  "No. Are you a priest?"

  "No, no. Nothing like that. I was a… an acrobat actually."

  "An acrobat!" Ella couldn’t believe it. Then, seeing how lean and strong his body was, how nimble he was on his feet, she suddenly could.

  "Well, I wasn’t always an acrobat," his eyes grew distant. "I lived in Salvation. I have no memories of my parents. The first thing I remember is the queue at the temple shelter. The boys used to hurt each other, badly, so that they would be first in line. The food always ran out, you see."

  Ella stayed quiet. She thought about her own childhood. At least she had some happy memories. She’d been loved by someone. At least she’d been clothed, fed and protected by Brandon and Miro.

  "I saw one boy, they burned his eyes out. He just screamed pitifully for food. The priests tried to help him, but there were so many to help. They tried hard to do good deeds, but Aynar is not a wealthy place. With no lore, cities like Salvation had nothing to trade with the houses. We saw the lords on pilgrimage sometimes, with their rich clothing and bright jewellery. The priests always said: these were the ones who should be paying to feed and clothe us."

  "They do," Ella said softly. "In lands like Altura and Halaran, at least. Were you educated? Were you taught skills?"

  Killian shook his head, "The priests did their best. Some were accepted into the Assembly, they were the lucky ones. Others became sick and died." He looked at her. "The rest became beggars, or thieves. I was one of the latter."

  Ella nodded, not willing to speak for fear he would stop.

  He smiled, "I was a good thief, the best. I was quicker than anyone, quieter than a falling feather. Then one day I met my match. I stole a jewelled timepiece from a tall, black-haired man; I think he was Halrana. He had a ferocious temper. I taunted him."
He chucked ruefully. "I suppose that would do it."

  Ella pictured the scene and chuckled herself. She supposed being stolen from and mocked would have that effect.

  "I ran across the rooftops, up the steep sides of one of the temples. He came right after me. I have never seen someone so agile. He leapt from building to building with no fear. This was my city, I knew it by heart, and here was a stranger, gaining on me! I ran faster and tripped on a rail. The next thing I knew I woke up with a knife to my throat.

  "‘You lost my timepiece,’ the man growled — he had this rolling voice. ‘It fell into the sewer when you tripped. Now you owe me a great deal of money.’

  "There was nothing I could do. He could kill me with no questions asked — I was a problem to the priests as it was. One of the templars stood nearby, nodding, waiting for him to stick me.

  "I began to thrash around, if I was going to die, it wasn’t going to be quick and easy. The templar kicked me, but the man made him back away.

  "‘He is my problem now,’ the Halrana said.

  "He made me go with him to a great tent that had been erected on the outskirts of town, where they had set up a travelling show in hope of making money from the wealthy pilgrims. There was an acrobat, an animal trainer, a juggler, and an escape artist. The Halrana was an acrobat. He made me work there, to do everything he told me." Killian’s voice continued expressively, he gave the story richness with his voice. "I loved that man."

  "What was his name?" Ella asked.

  "Marney. His name was Marney Beldara. He was the best acrobat I have ever seen. He taught me every day; he fed me and clothed me. I soon became good, very good." Killian gestured with his hands.

  "Then I met a woman. Her name was Carla. She wasn’t beautiful, but she was clever, and she made me laugh. She joined the troupe as we travelled around Tingara."

  Killian took a deep breath. "I didn’t like Tingara. It was worse than Aynar, much worse. I could see the urchins lurking around the big tent, picking pockets in the crowd. The beggars there had it worse that I ever did. I heard that the streetclans in Seranthia taught the children sweet songs and then crippled them terribly, sending them out to beg."

  Ella put her hand to her mouth. "That’s awful."

  Killian nodded. "Carla and I became lovers. One night, we left the camp and stole into Seranthia to be alone together. To see the night shows. When we returned, the camp was gone. The big tent was no more."

  Ella held her breath.

  "It had all been burned to the ground. I asked everyone in the area what had happened, but no one would talk to me. Finally an old woman told me they’d been taken by the legion. Someone from the crowd had reported that the troupe was spreading sedition against the Emperor. All I could remember was Marney saying something about helping the street children."

  Killian’s voice began to shake with emotion. "We arrived in Seranthia just as they were lined up along the top of the Wall, along with a bunch of other ‘seditionists’. We could see the blood on their skin; they’d been cut to pieces by the whip. They were all there. They were my family. We watched as they were pushed off the Wall, their bodies broken beyond recognition when they hit the bottom. Carla left me then. I didn’t blame her. Marney was her father."

  Tears slid silently down Ella’s face, but Killian didn’t notice. He seemed to be living the events all over again.

  "I buried them all, as best as I could. I dug their graves in the forest with my hands, carrying their poor, destroyed bodies one by one. Then I went back to the ruins of the camp, where nothing but the corpses of the stage animals in their blackened cages remained. I don’t know how long I stayed there.

  "Eventually I made my way back to Salvation. I started to steal again, but this time I don’t think I cared whether I was caught or not. I got into trouble a few times, and I broke some bones. Then I stole from a templar but my body gave up on me." Killian shrugged. "They put me into a cell in Stonewater, and one day they gave me something to drink, some kind of black potion. The templars watched me carefully. It tasted strange but it didn’t affect me, and they were excited."

  "What do you think it was?" Ella asked.

  "I really don’t know. Then one day I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned, and there he was. He asked me my name, and I told him. He said, ‘Do not fear Killian, for all your troubles are now over.’

  "I asked him who he was, but I think I already knew. He took me in, cared for me. He gave me a small house in Salvation, with my own guards and everything. I call him my master."

  "Who was it?" Ella said.

  "Primate Melovar Aspen, Primate of the Assembly of Templars."

  Killian looked away, and they continued their long march.

  ~

  ELLA digested the information as if worrying at a piece of meat. Something strange was occurring. The templars had no lore, no knowledge about runes or matrices or activation sequences. However they possessed essence in abundance.

  The templars kept the secret formulas for producing essence. They had the relics of the Evermen that created the black liquid.

  Ella needed to think of how the Primate fit into everything that was happening. She had been so focussed on the Emperor. Was stealing the Lexicons simply a way of weakening the houses? Was it the Primate’s plan to drain the Lexicons and eradicate magic from the world? But without lore there would be no need for essence — how would he control the houses, those who would do anything to get their Lexicons back? The Primate could not expect to conquer all of Merralya, even with every templar warrior at his disposal.

  Yet something was happening. They were at war. People were dying. Raj Halaran were fighting for their very existence, and soon it would be Altura’s turn. If the Primate had a plan, where did the Emperor stand in all of this?

  Killian seemed lost in thought too. He had obviously brought up memories he had thought long buried. Ella’s feelings towards him had changed somehow; she knew him better now. She understood his purpose. She’d shared herself with him, back in Altura, and he’d now shared himself. Yet he was still distant. Would he come to help her, rather than crippling her people in a single blow? Or would he leave her, trick her, as he had done last time?

  The sun burst again through a hole in the clouds. The horizon rose in an unbroken line, dropping off suddenly in the distance, as if they were walking towards a cliff.

  "We’re walking to the rim of the crater," said Killian. There is a small canyon just on the edge. That’s where Torlac is located."

  "When will we arrive?"

  Killian looked at the sky. "Before sundown, if we’re lucky. After sundown, if we’re not."

  "Killian?"

  "What?" he frowned at her.

  "Thank you for telling me. About your life I mean. It must have been hard."

  He shrugged. "There are people who’ve had it worse, I should know."

  "Still," Ella said, struggling to find the words. "I..."

  "Come with me," he said.

  He took her by the hand, his palm warm and dry. Ella ran with him to a crest in the rock — a random peak — tall and with a shallow enough slope to be easily ascended.

  He laughed as he half-led, half-dragged her up the hill. Soon she stood with him at the summit, panting.

  "Look!" he said.

  She followed his arm, and gasped.

  Ella looked over the rim of the cliff and into the bowl of the crater itself. It was immense. A road wound down from the rim, twisting first one way, then another, to eventually reach the shore of the sky-blue volcanic lake. An island occupied the centre of the lake, and a tiered city perched atop the landmass, rising level upon level to a turreted palace on the very summit. Flags and pennants fluttered in the wind, visible even from this distance, the raj hada of the elementalists a red-and-blue blur.

  "There’s something coming from the water, what’s that haze?"

  "It’s steam," Killian said. "The water is hot, almost boiling."

  "It’s true then. How do
they cross it?"

  "See that small square, half way across the lake? There’s another one, passing it."

  "Oh, I see it."

  "That’s the Halapusa Ferry."

  "Talk about a secure city."

  "That it is, Ella. Look over to the right now — see that cleft in the crater’s rim? That’s where we’re headed: the trade city of Torlac. We’d best be going if we’re going to get there before nightfall."

  44

  Choose your ground well. War is a game of geography.

  — Memoirs of Emperor Xenovere I, 318-7, 381 Y.E.

  HIGH Enchantress Evora Guinestor blanched when she saw the body. It had been torn to pieces, completely dismembered, viscera spread across several hundred paces. The man’s head was finally found by one of the trackers, an expression of horror still readable on what was left of his face.

  "There’s still one more scout missing," Captain Joram said soberly.

  Evora pulled herself together. "Thank you, Captain. How many does that make in total?"

  "Five. Two trackers and three scouts. Whatever it is, it’ll be onto the sentries next. High Enchantress, may I have a word alone?"

  "Of course, Captain."

  Evora walked away from the other men. The four ever-present bladesingers came along unbidden.

  They had left Alturan lands some time ago. Moving such a large group of soldiers — nearly forty encumbered men — through the Wondhip Pass had been a difficult task, but they had come through with only a few cuts and scrapes. Her trackers said the thief had come this way, as had Ella. They’d found the corpse of the eldritch. Reading the marks of the runes, the High Enchantress couldn’t believe someone would do such a thing to an animal. And her respect for Ella had increased.

  They’d also found evidence of two separate struggles in the pass. Apparently the thief had been accosted, but escaped. The second struggle was a different story — Evora could see the scorching marks left on the stone, burn marks that only powerful runes could make.