Enchantress (The Evermen Saga, Book One)

by James Maxwell

  The young enchantress was learning.

  One of the men said he could pass for a Petryan. He’d scouted the town across the pass, learning that there had been a struggle between some officials and a young girl with pale blonde hair who had asked about a priest.

  Then the trackers had come back and reported that Ella had been captured. Evora only hoped the girl came out alive, untouched by the hands of the thief.

  Their entire journey had been plagued by cliffs, rivers and treacherous passes. Now there was some evil creature out there.

  Evora could tell when she was being hunted.

  Her guards couldn’t keep up a fast pace, and still be fully prepared for whatever was out there. Something was toying with them, slowing them.

  High Enchantress Evora Guinestor had a fury now, a pent up rage that needed releasing. The trackers now told her they were only a day behind the thief and his captive. She would see him pay.

  Joram waited until they were a short distance from the men. He crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Those wounds — they weren’t made by any beast. It was a man."

  "A man?" Evora raised an eyebrow.

  "Yes, a man."

  "It’s true," one of the bladesingers said. Captain Joram frowned at him. The bladesinger looked away, unperturbed.

  "How do you know?"

  Joram continued, "It was a sword, or some kind of knife. The slashes were made by an edged weapon, not claws or teeth."

  "But the sounds — the snarls, the roars?"

  "I don’t know, High Enchantress."

  Evora nodded. "You did well by telling me this away from the men. How are they holding up?"

  "Fearful, but determined."

  She decided she was beginning to like Captain Joram. He may have been thorough and rigorous, but he was also truthful.

  "Good. Speed is our ally in this chase, but we mustn’t neglect our defences."

  "High Enchantress, let me find this creature," one of the bladesingers said.

  "No."

  "I could wait..."

  "I said no!" she turned the full weight of her glare on the man. He backed down.

  Silently, they rejoined the company. Their faces were grim — they knew they were far from home. It was unlikely in this barren land, but if a party of Petryans caught them out here, it would be impossible to explain their presence. They would be considered a war party, and treated as such.

  Captain Joram spoke, "Remember men, Raj Petrya are thus far neutral in this conflict, but our presence here is far from welcome. Stay alert. Scouts, I want you to stay in sight at all times. Trackers, always stay between the scouts and the main body. Move out."

  The bladesingers stayed close to the High Enchantress as they moved. Every rock was a potential enemy. Every tree could contain a foe. It was tough going, and it wore on everyone’s nerves. The men had been up since before dawn and continued long past the sunset. It was the only way they could keep pace with their light-travelling quarry while still maintaining an effective defensive formation.

  All the while, there wasn’t a man who didn’t know the High Enchantress was burning up inside. Calling always for more speed. Longer marches. Her countenance was so fearsome that the men relied on Captain Joram to communicate with her on their behalf.

  They ate on the march. The sky was so darkened with clouds that Evora’s glowing timepiece was the only way to know it was midday. The men felt the presence of some unseen evil. The darkening of the sky only echoed the feeling.

  Suddenly they stopped. One of the scouts was sprinting down the hillside, yelling as he ran.

  "Pull yourself together, man!" Captain Joram said.

  The scout came up to them, speaking between gasps. "Sir! I saw it. Gayal, he was on the ridge, some way back from me. One moment he was there, the next he was gone. It was so quick I couldn’t believe my eyes. The blood, it gushed out of his body."

  Evora could see the men exchange fearful glances. She wished the scout would be quiet, hold his tongue and give his message elsewhere.

  Joram pressed him for more information. "Yes, yes, man. What did you see?"

  "It was a shape in white robes of some kind. It walked on two legs — it must have been a man. I thought I saw steel."

  They all heard it then, a great snarling sound reverberating from the hills. Even Evora jumped when it was followed a heartbeat later by a piercing shriek.

  The bladesinger looked at the High Enchantress, one eyebrow raised. Sighing, she nodded. He loosened the zenblade at his side, a wicked grin on his face.

  ~

  THEY posted half the already-exhausted men as sentries and the other half caught what little sleep they could. The bladesinger had left at dusk, and there wasn’t a man or woman among them who didn’t follow his departure with their eyes, a prayer to the Skylord on their lips.

  They lit up every nightlamp and everyone checked their weapons, and then checked them again. These weren’t common Alturan soldiers, these were elite infantry, with enchanted metal armour of overlapping scales and the best single-activation swords the enchanters knew how to make.

  Yet whatever was out there had scared battle-hardened men, soldiers who had faced the imperial legion during the Rebellion without a qualm.

  Far away they heard a snarling.

  "Look!" a man said.

  A piercing bright light flared somewhere in the night. Even through trees and other obstructions it still lit half the night sky.

  "That’s one of ours," said the High Enchantress. The men looked at her. "It must be the girl. We’re close."

  There was silence for a time. Every man was on edge.

  A man’s scream sounded in the night, somewhere not far away, the note one of extreme pain. Evora held her breath. The scream was suddenly cut off.

  The roar was ear-splitting, so loud Evora gritted her teeth in pain. It was a cry of triumph.

  Silence again.

  Then the screaming began. It was the bladesinger’s voice. A sound of utter pain and torment. It rose and fell.

  ~

  IT continued throughout the rest of the night. At times it would stop, only to start again.

  One of the bladesingers stood. His face was white. "I’m going to help him."

  "You’ll do no such thing," Evora snapped. "Remember your duty. There is nothing you can do for him."

  Not a man had any sleep that night. They stayed silent, rigid with tension, until the dawn saw the cries ended. Until the clouded sky signalled the start of a new day.

  ~

  SHE had wondered when it would be coming. Evora looked down at Captain Joram, an impenetrable look on her face.

  "We need to turn back," he said.

  "I will be giving the orders around here, Captain. And I’ll remind you of that, this once, before I have you removed from service and find a replacement."

  He nodded. He wasn’t a fool. He knew he was speaking out of turn.

  She softened a little. "Listen, Captain. A hard day’s march will see us in Torlac. You saw the display from the girl last night — the thief is facing the same problem we are. He will want to be in Torlac this night. One more day, Captain. One more day and we will have him."

  He nodded, turning away.

  Evora sighed. It wouldn’t be long before she faced open mutiny. She was so close, she could feel it. Let them be unhappy, let them continue for one day more and she would reward them when they arrived back in Altura.

  Torlac lay ahead. And with it, the Lexicon.

  45

  There are people living in the icy north. I’ve seen them. It is cold there, so cold that your breath freezes in the air. But something told me to leave, without exploring any further, and it wasn’t the cold.

  — Toro Marossa, ‘Explorations’, Page 299, 423 Y.E.

  KILLIAN collapsed into the bed, groaning with exhaustion.

  Ella headed directly for the tub. Steaming buckets of water lay outside of it. She looked at Killian, he seemed fast asleep but she
wasn’t about to disrobe just because she thought he was sleeping.

  She strode briskly to the bed. "Roll over," she said.

  "What?" he said, his eyes bleary.

  "Roll over. I want to use that blanket to shield the bath."

  He rolled over. Ella took the blanket away from him. She looked at his body. He’d removed his shirt. All thoughts of a bath fled. The red scar down his back was puffed and angry, it crossed from between his shoulder blades down to below his waist.

  "Your back! How can you keep going, it must hurt terribly!"

  "It does," he admitted.

  She turned to the door to their room and opened it, looking out into the hallway. A maid stood holding some towels, a surprised look on her face.

  "Blessings," said Ella, putting on the accent in the way Killian had shown her. "Do you have honey and wine?" The girl nodded. "And some clean linen we could purchase? Here," Ella handed her a coin. "Please bring them up immediately."

  The girl nodded.

  "I think you need a bath better than me," Ella said, entering the room again.

  "I just want to sleep," Killian said.

  "Get in. I said get in! Do you want to get bad blood, reaching from your back to your heart?"

  "Bad blood?"

  Ella hoped it sounded official. "Yes, bad blood. And lesions."

  "Lesions?"

  She didn’t really know what lesions were. "That’s right. Now, get in the bath."

  He slowly sat up on the bed. There was a knock on the door as the maid brought up the requested items.

  "Thank you," Ella said."

  "Blessings," the girl replied.

  Ella closed the door. Killian was already in the bath.

  "Trying to avoid making it even, are you?"

  "What? What are you talking about?"

  "You saw me. I know you did," she said.

  "Saw you?"

  "You know. In the lake. Bathing."

  "I did not."

  "It doesn’t bother me," she said airily. "I would often dance, naked, in Altura. For men."

  He snorted, "You would not."

  "Why wouldn’t I?"

  "Firstly, they don’t do that kind of thing in Altura. Secondly, you had hardly had a night out drinking before I met you, let alone dancing naked."

  "Don’t you think men would pay to see me? Is that it? I’ve heard it is quite common in Seranthia for women to dance naked, for money."

  "Trust me," Killian said. "It’s not a profession you would enjoy."

  "Don’t you think I’m beautiful enough?"

  He looked at her seriously. "I think you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen."

  Ella blushed and looked away. The atmosphere in the room became uncomfortable. She was suddenly incredibly conscious that there was only one bed, and that they would most likely be sharing it. Her heart started to race.

  Calming herself, she took a quiet breath, fixing her attention on Killian’s wounds. She took a rough piece of caustic soap and lathered it up in the water. Without a warning, she began to rub the lather against the wound in Killian’s back with a rough wet cloth.

  "Aaah!" Killian cried in pain.

  "Don’t be a baby," Ella said, smiling. She was starting to enjoy herself.

  Some yellow pus and small bits of dirt came from the wound. It started to bleed again, first the black blood of infection, followed by fresh red blood.

  "Good," Ella said. "I think I’ve cleaned it. Can I trust you to clean the wound on your thigh yourself?"

  "Yes, mother," he smiled.

  Ella prepared the bandages while he washed himself. She turned her back while he dried himself and covered his body in strategic areas, and then she dressed the wounds on his thigh and back.

  Ella refilled the bath and hung up the blanket while she bathed. No, she didn’t trust him, not one bit. The water turned from clear to dark brown as the grime of the hard march came away. Lord of the Sky, it felt good to be clean again. She spent a long time brushing her hair, running a comb through the tangled knots until it shone like spun gold. She dressed herself and removed her protective curtain.

  Killian lay on his stomach on the bed, wearing only leggings. His legs and arms were sprawled in all directions. He had locked the door and put the key in his pocket, but he was fast asleep.

  She looked down at him. The creases of care were smoothed from his face in sleep. He seemed younger. His fiery red hair shone in the soft shifting light of a candle.

  Ella walked to the corner of the room to replace her comb in her satchel. She stopped, pausing. Next to her bag was Killian’s.

  She looked up at him. He seemed fast asleep, his chest rising and falling evenly. Ever so gently she opened the bag, unfastening the buckle and withdrawing the tongue. It was right in front of her, the green cover reflecting the light. The Alturan Lexicon.

  She withdrew the book, it was strangely light. She opened the cover and began to read.

  ~

  THE light flickered and dimmed. Ella looked up. It was some time later, she had lost all track of time. The candle had burnt down to a stub.

  Killian lay on his side, his head propped up on his elbow. He regarded her seriously.

  "I… I just wanted to read it," Ella stammered.

  "I know," he said. "I was watching you. Your eyes were lit up. You seemed so intent. I didn’t want to disturb you."

  Ella stared into the distance. She had only just begun, but she knew the knowledge in this book was more than she could ever encompass in a lifetime. She was starting to believe that Killian must be right, that the Lexicon wasn’t an isolated text, it was meant to be part of a greater whole.

  And now she knew that Miro had been right, so long ago. A Lexicon could be destroyed. Essence had an opposite.

  Ella knew the knowledge was beyond her current level of understanding. But she had also built on feelings, small elements of intuition she had frequently experienced during her studies at the Academy. With time, she was sure she could develop her ability further than had ever been imaginable before. Her intuition — the things she understood without quite knowing why — was explained and expanded in the Lexicon. Here was the power to unlock her potential.

  Ella closed the book. Uncertain for a moment, she left it sitting on her knees. There were still so many questions in need of answers.

  "How did you do it?" she suddenly asked.

  "Do what?"

  "All of it. The essence, it didn’t harm you at all, did it? The Crystal Palace — you got through every defence the High Enchantress had made, and I know how good she is. You went through the palace holding our most important possession yet not one guard saw you."

  Killian sighed, "Do we have to talk about it?"

  "Yes. First, the essence, why didn’t it hurt you?"

  He shrugged, "The fact is, I don’t know. The templars discovered it when I was in Stonewater. My body works differently."

  "It’s amazing, do you know that?"

  "I guess."

  "The Crystal Palace, though. How could you walk right past so many people? I heard them say you were naked, that you were like a ghost. How is that possible?"

  "Stealth and invisibility are nothing new."

  Ella nodded. "We enchant our bladesingers’ armoursilk with something called shadow. When they activate the sequence, the armoursilk bends the light around their bodies. It’s not perfect though, you can still see the runes glowing slightly and you can see their faces and hands, anything that’s not covered by the armoursilk. I’ve never heard of perfect invisibility, and I know you weren’t wearing a suit of some kind. And I should know — we are the enchanters."

  He shrugged, "It’s my secret, isn’t it?"

  Ella could tell he was withdrawing again. She noticed his hand go to the amulet around his neck.

  "It’s not anything to do with that amulet, I know that much."

  His eyes widened. "You’ve been…"

  Ella was surprised. "Why are you upset? Th
e runes on that amulet simply give it an ability similar to shadow. A novelty — now you see it, now you don’t. Unlike armoursilk, which is a complex fabric, it’s simple to cloak a pendant. And it doesn’t even work, the runes drained a long time ago."

  "What? That’s not true."

  "How much do you know about lore?"

  Killian shrugged, "I don’t know. People draw runes with essence, that’s about it."

  "Where did you get it?"

  Ella held her breath. Killian took a long time to answer. "My master… The Primate. He gave it to me. He said it was magic, that if I copied the runes onto my skin and said the words it would turn me… well… invisible."

  "Killian," Ella said softly. "Lore doesn’t work like that. The runes on the amulet simply give you something to copy."

  "What do you mean? That I could copy any runes onto my skin, any at all?"

  "I think so. I don’t know what this power you have is, but it is completely new to me."

  "Why wouldn’t he tell me that?"

  Ella knew she was in dangerous territory now. "I don’t know. Perhaps he thought that was how it worked. The templars don’t have their own lore, after all."

  Killian shook his head. "No, he’s very smart. He knows."

  Ella could only see one answer. That the Primate didn’t want his prize thief to understand too much about the great power he possessed.

  "Does essence ever hurt you?" Ella asked.

  "No. It gives me a strange feeling, a tingling sensation, but that’s all."

  "What about when you activate the runes, when you say the words?"

  "I don’t feel anything. I simply look down at my skin, and I can see through it."

  Ella breathed in awe. "Amazing. Have you ever tried any other runes?"

  "No, I don’t know any runes."

  "Killian, why did you choose me? What does the Primate intend to do with our Lexicon?"

  Killian took a deep breath. "Are you sure you want to know?"

  "What do you mean? Is it because I’m an enchantress, and that you thought I was an easy target?"

  "No, Ella. There’s much more to it than that. The Primate knows who you are, Ella. He made me study you."