by Shannah Jay
Those two burned steadily, in defiance of nature.
'Here I am, Gervar,' she called, and now only he could hear the words for the wind tore them to shreds before they could carry to anyone else. 'Here I am. Can you kill me, do you think? Can you silence my voice?'
'I can and I will.' The serpent on his forehead continued to writhe as he struggled forward across the few paces that separated him from this old hag who dared to challenge the power of his dread lord.
As she stood there, Olleff tried to move to her side, ready with his knife to avenge his daughter and mother, but the wind was blowing so hard that he too was tossed aside. And yet, the frail old woman stood there steadily and her torch flared just as steadily above her head.
The wind's wailing reached a crescendo, then it began to gather into a whirling column. Dust and debris were sucked up into it, to be spat out at the top and cast away into the darkness. The column grew higher and higher, then it started moving across the square, twisting to and fro.
Gervar had nearly reached the old woman and she had stopped shrieking defiance at him. Now she was smiling, a dreadful smile that promised only death and pain.
'Come to me now,' she crooned softly. 'Come to me. Come to me.' Her voice was as young and soft as that of a girl calling to her lover. 'Oh, come to my embrace. Come if you dare.'
He heard every word clear above the howling of the wind and his hand trembled on his knife hilt. 'I dare,'
he snarled in a last surge of fury. 'And I bring your death with me.'
'Yes, yes. We both bring death with us,' she sang. 'Come now, serpent lover and see whose god shall prevail.'
'Mine shall prev- ' he began, but even as he spoke, the wind took him. It sucked Gervar up as if he were weightless, and the old woman with him, snatching them into its shivering spiral and tossing them high, high in the air like children's toys.
Bessa's shriek of joy as her fingers found his throat was lost in the howling of the wind. His gurgles as he fought for air dropped unheard to the ground like pebbles lost in a rushing stream. And in a flicker of time, it was done, so quickly, so easily that none could stop the deed.
The whirlwind burst apart in a final roar of wind and the two bodies fell to the ground. Bessa's hands were still around Gervar's neck and there was a look of triumph on her dead face, but the mark of the serpent had vanished from Gervar's forehead.
The Houran died down as suddenly as it had blown up. In the ensuing silence, no one moved for a moment or two, then the townsfolk and herders moved across the market square, catching the Servants of the Shrine out in the open and dealing to them the death those men of evil had given to so many. But unlike them, the herders had no time for torture, no taste for inflicting pain. They killed their foes as quickly and skilfully as they would slit a nerid's throat when its time came for the table. The women were as strong and active as the men, and as they broke into the shrine, they had their gutting knives at the ready.
Not one Servant escaped their vengeance. The men of the town who had followed the cult found their heads clearing as the last sticks of incense were doused inside the shrine and the black stone altar ground to dust. But men's horror when they realised what they had been doing was as painful to them as the knife thrusts were to the Servants of the Shrine. They wept as they threw away their daggers and took their womenfolk home, wept through the dark hours that followed and begged their women for forgiveness. Called at last upon their Brother to forgive them.
At the rear of the shrine, Olleff's wife and other children were discovered alive in a barred cellar, together with folk from other plains villages. They split immediately into their own groups, independent again now that the need to unite was over. Olleff gathered up his mother's body himself, cradling it in his arms with an expression of fierce pride on his face, and promising a finely carved monument and a poem to her bravery, the Lay of Bessa, it should be called, that all should know how she’d saved them. Then he and his companions left.
As they walked out of the town none of them turned heads to look at the thick column of black smoke that rose from the shrine. None of them bothered to stay and see the townsfolk start to knock down the walls around it. The wind blew gently at the herders' backs now, helping them along the road home.
In the days to come, they would build a new Meeting House, the townsfolk promised each other as they turned away from the rubble around the burning shrine. They would beg their Brother to watch over them again, beg his Sisters to come and heal their bodies and souls. As dawn lightened the skies, the final few made for their own homes and silence cloaked the town.
After Gervar died, the deleff waited for a while, then snorted and walked into their harness. As they pulled the wagon out of the town, they simply trampled down any barricades in their way.
When a group of wild-eyed men lurking in one of the side streets tried to stop them, the two enormous deleff stepped out of their harness, trumpeted till folks' ears rang and allowed their wings to beat out the message that violence was repaid with pain. The livid blue light of the wings flickered harmlessly over those who bore no evil in their souls and left only a tingle, an awareness that people had been touched by something benign but alien. Those suffering from the worst discord madness died beneath those wings, the others rolled about in intense agony.
'I've never seen that happen before,' breathed Jonner as the deleff walked back into their harness and continued to draw the wagon out of town. 'Usually they leave a town the minute violence starts. These deleff -
well, they seemed to be joining in our fight.'
'They were,' said Cheral, with that echoing tone in her voice that signalled their Brother's presence. 'Our weakness is ended. And so is theirs. We must all learn to fight back against evil now, or be for ever lost.'
As the comforting darkness of the plains surrounded them, Jonner looked back once at the column of fire from the burning shrine that lit up the town, then put his arm round Narla and turned to look forward.
'Where are they taking us, do you think?'
'Across to Beldrian,' said Cheral, with that echoing tone in her voice. 'We have our own quest to fulfil.'
'Beldrian!' he gasped. 'But the Serpent is strong in Beldrian!'
'It was strong in Marrinak, too. But our Brother prevailed.'
'Why do we go to Beldrian?' Narla asked.
'We must find a child there, find her and take her to the High Alder. Remember that, Jonner, if we're separated. Make for a town called Danak. The others will be joining us there when they’ve fulfilled their own tasks.'
He sagged against Narla and sighed wearily. 'How can you be so sure of it all, Cheral?'
'How can I not, after what we saw today?'
CHAPTER 11 THE CLAIM OF TENEBRON
When Benjan saw the cleft open in the ground, and the first wagon disappear into it, he realised it was some sort of portal and sighed with relief. After his relatively short time as one of the Kindred of the God, he couldn’t help marvelling each time he and his companions received special help from the god they served.
'Brother, we thank you!' he murmured, chopping with his sword at a knife that was slashing towards his chest.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Carryn hurl a box in one attacker's face. He laughed aloud and with renewed vigour kicked away a pair of hands that were stretching round him to grab at the robes of the two women on the wagon.
They were nearly there, nearly at the cleft. Seeing a movement out of the corner of his eye, he knocked a man away from the tailboard with a jab of his left elbow. Then the darkness of the cleft fell around him like a thick winter cloak and he sank into it willingly, trusting in his Brother's power to save them all from danger.
It seemed only a moment before consciousness started returning, but it must have been longer. The part of Benjan's brain trained by the Hashite Guild came instantly alert as the darkness around him brightened, grey half-light turning into an opal mistiness in which objects loomed dimly. Carryn an
d Lerina were lying huddled against him. He could move only very slowly, but his eyes were raking the blurred images of the wagon around him even as his arms were tightening protectively around Carryn.
He sighed with relief. There was no sign of the dark clad men who’d attacked them so viciously. The portal must have deflected the last attackers from the back of the wagon.
The scene around him shifted into clearer focus. Beyond the canopy of the wagon sunlight was flickering through the leaves that veiled the distant blue of the sky. There was something soothing about the filtered light under the trees, something that spoke of peace and security. Had there been danger, he’d have known it.
He’d always had that knowledge. It’d saved his life on many occasions, enhancing his reputation as one of the top bodyguards in the whole Hashite Guild.
He relaxed his muscles, breathing deeply and using the Sisters' exercises to prepare his body for movement. 'We thank you for saving us, Brother!' He tried to say it aloud, but his throat was too dry to allow him to form any words and he could only think his gratitude. It was no less fervent. He swallowed several times and gradually his mouth filled with moisture. As he blinked soothing tears into his eyes, his vision cleared into its usual acuity. Another check around them confirmed that they were alone in the wagon, and it was no longer moving.
Against his chest Carryn stirred and sighed. Her eyelids fluttered open and she stared up at him for a moment. 'Benjan.' Her mouth formed the word and her face lit up at the sight of him. He knew that with him she felt safe, and had done ever since he’d helped rescue her from the shrine. Her eyelids closed again, but she snuggled closer, showing she was no longer unconscious.
Beyond Carryn another figure lay tumbled, one slim hand clutching Carryn's robe, long dark hair fanned softly across her shoulders. Lerina. He nodded in satisfaction. The child was safe as well. 'Thank you, Brother!'
This time he did manage to whisper the words aloud.
He still thought of Lerina as a child, although, like Erlic and Alaran, she had grown up physically overnight in the Tanglewoods. She was nearly a woman in appearance, with the promise of beauty in her delicate features, but she was still a child in so many ways, a dear child whom he loved - as he had loved Delly, the little sister who’d died at the hands of Those of the Serpent. And whatever Herra said, one day he would have his revenge for that, if only by helping to defeat the serpent lovers, especially those vicious perverts at the main shrine in Tenebrak.
He loved Lerina even more because she was Carryn's daughter. He shook his head. Was ever a man caught in such a cleft stick? He loved Quinna as a comrade, a partner in the joyous unashamed love that men and women can share with each other. And yet he loved Carryn, too, loved her with all his being, in a more serious and reverent way than he loved Quinna. In fact, he loved Carryn as a man loves the woman with whom he wishes to spend his life, with whom he hopes to beget the children through whom he can pass on his Gifts.
But Carryn had been ravished by Those of the Serpent in the shrine at Tenebrak and ever since then, she flinched from the touch of a man, from every man except Benjan. Even him she treated merely as a brother.
In the face of the love and trust she showed towards him, he dared only treat her as a child in return, and in many ways she was still a child, only sixteen even now, with a slight body and a girl's soft bloom on her skin.
Herra and Cheral knew of his feelings, but had told him to wait. They hadn’t said he was unworthy, which gave him hope for the future, but they’d insisted that only time could heal Carryn.
And in the meantime there was Quinna, to whom he also owed loyalty, who was the best fighting comrade he’d ever had. Where was she now?
He patted Carryn's shoulder, then began flexing and stretching his larger muscles, one after the other.
Blood coursed round his body, alertness washed through his brain cells. He smiled, pleased with the body-controlling skills taught him by Those of the Sisterhood. He was learning these skills as quickly as he could, for this huge strong body was his main treasure, first his only way of making a good living in a harsh world, now used to serve their Brother's Quest.
Even before he joined the Kindred, he’d known his body's capacities as few people knew themselves.
Benjan, the scavenger's son, born of the poorfolk, bred in the shambles in Tenebrak City. He’d been so proud to be invited to join the Hashite Guild and to be given the secret name Starborn. Not wanting to kill those against whom he bore no malice, he’d stayed in the Third Rank of the Guild, a bodyguard by trade, instead of joining the elite corps of Guild Assassins. He gave a snort of bitter laughter. He acknowledged it, if no one else did: a common bodyguard wasn’t exactly a fit husband for Carryn, daughter of Aharri Bel-Ashkaron, trading master of Tenebrak.
When he was ready to sit up, Benjan pressed a quick kiss on Carryn's forehead and rolled her gently aside, taking care not to break Lerina's grasp on her mother's robe. Lerina's eyes were open now, and she was beginning to realise what was happening around her, but she still instinctively clung to her mother, as any child would. Benjan jumped down from the wagon and stood with his back to it, scanning the area around them, ready to reach for his sword. He still had no sense of danger, but you could never be too careful.
He was relieved to see that they’d emerged from the portal near a rocky outcropping in the wildwoods.
They could have been anywhere in the Twelve Claims, for all he knew. He stood and listened carefully, with senses better tuned to the ways of nature after Katia's lessons, but he could hear no signs of other human beings. Wherever this place was, it seemed they could safely take the time to recover from their involuntary trip through the strange clinging darkness of the portal.
He walked slowly round to the front of the wagon, always alert for any sign of danger. But the birds were singing, a warm breeze was drifting around him and the rioting wildflowers were perfuming the air. No place had ever seemed more peaceful.
'Benjan!'
Carryn's voice was sharp with anxiety. He rushed round to the rear of the wagon. She was sitting upright, clutching Lerina and staring about her with eyes that betrayed how close she was to panicking.
'I'm here, Carryn.' He laid a hand on her arm, gentling her as you would a wild forest creature.
She sagged back against the side pole that held the awning. 'Sorry. I panicked for a moment when I couldn't see you. Where are we, Benjan?'
'In the wildwoods somewhere.'
'It's lovely,' said Lerina. 'Not thrusting and snatching at us, like the Tanglewoods.'
'Are the deleff all right?' Carryn asked.
'There's no sign of the deleff. No tracks, either. I don't think they can have come through the portal with us.'
Lerina leaned forward to stare around them. 'Herra called out to Quequere as the portal opened. I heard her voice clearly.'
Carryn frowned. 'Do you think Quequere made the portal, Benjan?'
'If Herra called his name, it's very likely.' Benjan held out his hands to lift her down, then did the same for Lerina. 'Come and move your bodies, you two. There's no sign of anyone else around here, and I doubt anyone is creeping through the woods, either, because the birds are still singing. Listen!'
The three of them stopped talking to listen to the joyous trilling chorus that ebbed and flowed among the trees.
'That high fluting note in the distance is a silverbird calling to its mate.' Carryn's face softened in wonderment. 'You don't often hear those. We must be a long way from any settlement.'
'Don't they sound beautiful?' Lerina beamed at them both. 'There weren't any birds like this in the Tanglewoods. I like it here.'
They stood there for a while, soaking up the tranquillity, then Carryn said thoughtfully, 'This is very like the wildwoods near Tenebrak. My mother and I used to go out of the city sometimes, gathering herbs or just relaxing for a while.' She stopped abruptly to control the pain at the thought of how her lovely mother had died, beheaded by Those
of the Serpent.
Benjan gave her a gentle push, as much to distract her thoughts as to hurry her up. 'Start doing some exercises, Carryn. We need to get our bodies functioning properly again.'
When they’d done as much as they could for the time being, they found some journey bread and cheese in the wagon, and ate a few dried fruits, washing them down with tepid water from the cask on the rear of the wagon.
Lerina grinned as she watched Benjan devour a whole loaf. 'I never saw anyone eat as much as you do.'
'There's a lot of me to maintain, little one.' He looked at Carryn. 'Do you really think we're back in Tenebron? I don't know much about the countryside or the other Claims. I've always worked in Tenebrak City or the towns along the river.' He stared around, eyes narrowed, then shrugged. 'To my eyes, one set of wildwoods looks much like another. Is there any way to tell where we are for sure?'
'No, but the plants and vegetation are definitely the s- '
'Shh!' He jerked round. 'I heard something. You two get behind those bushes! Quickly.'
But as the noise grew closer, it was clear that whoever was causing it was making no attempt to hide their presence, any more than Benjan could hide the great trader's wagon that sat squarely in the middle of the clearing. As he drew his sword and readied himself to face danger, the foliage rustled and a pair of deleff ambled into view. They came to a halt by the wagon, tossing their heads to and fro impatiently.
Benjan sheathed his sword. No need to fear deleff.
'They want to leave at once,' said Carryn, walking out of hiding.
Benjan barred her way. 'I didn't tell you to come out yet.'
Her mouth quivered for a moment in surprise and hurt at the sharpness of his tone, then her face set in obstinate lines. 'There can be no danger from deleff, Benjan. You should know that by now.'