Darkness Falling: Soldiers and Slaves

by R. R. Willica

  Wading through the snowdrifts she allowed the energy to guide her where her other senses would be of no use. The village appeared abandoned. The snow remained undisturbed on the road and the walkways. Vehicles were completely buried. No animals disturbed the quiet.

  Wini approached the first house. Peering through the dark window she could see a kitchen table sitting alone in the shadows. Despite the empty appearance, she could feel life within; a thin line of breath barely holding on to the edge of existence.

  Trying the front door, it swung open with ease. She stepped inside. Standing still she watched her breath plume in the air. Even in the cold the heavy stink of uncontrolled illness clung to her, turning her stomach. Moving quietly, she surrounded herself with soothing calm to prevent the occupants from being alarmed at her presence.

  She followed the energy to a room near the end of a narrow corridor and paused in the doorway. Two forms huddled beneath heavy blankets on a rickety bed. They did not react as she entered the room.

  “Do not be afraid,” Wini said calmly. “I’m here to help you.”

  There was no response.

  She carefully pulled back the blankets and caught her breath. Her eyes began to water as the odor of decay wafted up to embrace her. A woman weakly raised her head, hissing at the intrusion. Her skin was ashen and her eyes glowed red. Her limp, greasy hair stuck to the pillow. A large clump detached itself from her head as she moved.

  Beside her, a man lay dead and rotting. The woman clung to him desperately. Both of their bodies were covered in bite marks, and his arms were missing flesh in multiple places. They must have been attempting to consume their own meat for survival.

  Winifred blinked away tears. The woman’s face contorted into a snarl. Wini could see where her natural teeth and fallen away and new fangs were growing. There was more to the condition of the villagers than the ravages of the Senna plague.

  Raising her hand, palm out and fingers spread, Wini knew what must be done.

  “Mercy,” she commanded, her voice booming through the small house.

  The woman’s eyes grew wide before the life left them completely. Her head collapsed onto the pillow. Wini covered the corpses and backed out of the room. She leaned against the corridor wall, holding back the urge to sob uncontrollably.

  The plagued shall rise, her mother’s voice whispered to her from across the chasm of time.

  Turning her head, Wini examined the closed door of the next room. She dreaded the thought of opening it, but knew she must. The village must be cleansed.

  Pushing the door open she saw a small body on a small bed. The child’s life had long since left, but she must cast the protective spells to prevent further evil from taking root. Raising her hand, she called for mercy for the small boy. The house shook to the foundation from the force of her emotion.

  Unable to do more, Winifred went back out the way she had come, sealing the structure with a protective spell. Tears streamed down her cheeks, freezing on her skin as she walked. It would take too long to investigate each house individually. She must protect the living. It was time to throw off her guise as a simple old woman and take her true place in the world.

  When Petor had turned against his people, dragging her brother along on his wild crusade of domination, she feared the day would come when she alone would stand in defense of the meek. In the darkness she would be the only light. Throughout the years she watched for the signs, cultivating her hospital and knowing it was not enough. To see her fears realized was heartbreaking.

  Resolved to remain steady to her charges, she would not lose hope. Impyra may be the Balance. If that were true Syerset would call to her, initiating change. Winifred must prepare the support systems put in place by her people centuries ago.

  Wading through the snow to the center of town, she stopped in the middle of the road. Breathing deeply, Winifred raised her arms to shoulder height. Lifting her face to the clouded sky she pulled energy toward her from the air, the earth, and the falling snow. It had been many years since she’d last used her full strength. There was not a doubt in her mind of her own ability.

  The wind began to blow, swirling around her feet to form a cyclone. Her hair caught free from the long braid hanging down her back. Faster and farther the wind churned, shaking the houses as it engulfed the buildings. From outside the tempest she felt dark energy pressing against the edges of her mind. Wini was strong, however; and bathed in the tranquil power of serenity.

  “By the grace of the Light; Deller-Brenth, I plead for your aid!” The ground trembled at the force of her words. “Grant mercy to the souls entombed here; I sanctify this ground in your Holy Name!”

  Abruptly, the wind stopped. Snow hung in the hair, crystalline and pure. Light pierced the clouds above, bathing the village in pure white brilliance. A shadow lurked beyond the circle of power. The hulking figure lacked substance. It was not yet powerful enough to contend with one such as Winifred. Her heart quickened, but her courage remained. She would not be intimidated by minions of evil.

  “Y’em en kelar’if Selaise’Akar, ye’eln nekt iletrea keath!” She commanded in the language of her birth.

  Intensified by the Light, Winifred's words were both sword and shield as they drove the darkness away. All of the windows along the street were shattered, the ring glass raining onto the ground echoed within the cyclone. Fleeing from the Light, the shadow faded. Wini felt it withdraw, releasing its hold on the village. With the seal complete, she lowered her arms. The levitating snow fell in heaps to the ground with a hushed thud.

  Cold air rushed in to gnaw at her bones. Wini staggered forward as the world tilted. She was not a young woman any more, she remembered.

  Steadying herself, the dizziness subsided. She returned to the van, climbing wearily back into the seat. Inside, her charges were pressed against the windows, eyes wide and faces frozen in awe. Wini blushed.

  “It’s safe now,” she said casually.

  “What?” Mikal asked, confused.

  “Everyone died of the plague,” she spoke quietly. “We will take what we can from the store. Warmer clothes, blankets, food, medicine, anything you can grab. Drive up close so that you’re not walking in the cold. I must rest.”

  Wini closed her eyes, resting her head on the seat. Everyone continued to stare, motionless. Opening one eye she glanced at Mikal. He jumped in his seat and started the engine.

  “I will explain everything once we arrive in Rau’Tesche-Akar,” she promised.

  * * *

  Outside the Tower the blizzard showed no sign of stopping. With the celebration ended the nobility decided to remain in an attempt to wait out the storm. Ky Thella took the opportunity to continue playing the gracious hostess, offering entertainment to stave off boredom. As usual, clinging to tradition offered up a variety of options to amuse the entrenched lords and ladies.

  First among the planned activities was a luncheon to celebrate the engagement of Ky Gleyth and Fei Arentey. Not only did it draw the guests from the solitude of their apartments, it also offered the new couple a chance at becoming acquainted in an acceptable environment. The parlor was transformed into a small dining room with tables adorned in white linens, silver platters, and delicate white tea cups.

  Gleyth was seated beside Arentey. Joining them at the table was his father Fa Marden, her mother, sisters, and baby brother. The guests in attendance were primarily female, their husbands choosing alternate entertainment.

  Fa Marden, a barrel chested man with an impressive mustache adorning his face, was out of place sipping tea and nibbling on finger sandwiches. He endured the event without a hint of annoyance. Arentey's mother, Fy Eleyn, was lost many years prior to illness. Fa Marden never remarried, making his presence necessary at functions traditionally set aside for his wife.

  Gleyth felt an odd sense of kinship with the man as he awkwardly fumbled with his teacup. Although an outsider would have thought she belonged in the throng of chattering ladies, she truly felt a
s out of place as he appeared. She knew it was important to take the chance to get to know her betrothed but she found herself at a loss for topics of conversation. Her mind continued to wander back to the evening before.

  Memories of Kevie's fingers brushing against her hand filled her with excitement and confusion. His green eyes continued to invade her thoughts regardless of how firmly she pushed them away. Logic told her that she had only known him for two days. Her reaction to his attention was unreasonable. He was nothing more than a glorified Enforcer. She was being foolish to consider him as anything more than a guest.

  Gleyth’s inattention put the burden of conversation on her mother. The princess was not listening to the questions being asked of the young lord. She was roused from her reverie when Arentey turned to her with an anxious expression.

  “I must apologize, Ky Gleyth,” he said.

  “Apologize?” she was taken aback.

  “I do believe I offended you during our first dance. You rushed away from the celebration last night and did not return. I do not wish to begin our relationship with bad feelings.” He placed his hand on his chest, bowing his head respectfully.

  Gleyth blushed. The sincerity and kindness in his voice embarrassed her for her own behavior. Perhaps she did not choose the marriage being forced upon her, but it was not Arentey's fault. He was shackled by tradition as much as she, even if his chains were not nearly as tight.

  “There is nothing for you to apologize for, Fei Arentey. I was feeling ill, nothing more.”

  “I'm glad to hear it,” He appeared genuinely relieved.

  Gleyth took the opportunity to test the waters of his mind. “It has been a rather difficult time for us here in Empire Tower, with the plague and the decline in economy outside our walls.”

  “Yes,” Arentey agreed. “I understand. It must be difficult to sit in the heart of the problem with no clear means of solutions.”

  “Indeed,” Perhaps he understood.

  “It is a shame the escape of the slaves marred your celebration. I do have faith that your father and brother will bring a swift end to that particular dilemma, at least.”

  Gleyth pushed a little farther. “It is unfortunate that current precepts allowed the situation at all,” she said cautiously. “I do not wish to speak ill of my brother, but he was not kind to the girl.”

  Arentey did not respond.

  “I do imagine if he had been she would not have fled,” Gleyth continued.

  All eyes at the table were on her. She felt the heat rising to her cheeks.

  “Let us not speak of unpleasantness on such a lovely day, Gleyth,” Thella reminded her gently.

  “All I'm saying is that small changes in policy can often bring large improvements to the populace as a whole, including the slaves.” It was too late now; she'd fully revealed herself as more than an ornament to hang from a young man's arm.

  Fei Arentey cleared his throat uneasily. He stared into his plate. Fa Marden gave his future daughter-in-law an annoyed look. Thella continued to smile but it did not reach her eyes. She silently pleaded with Gleyth to change the subject. The princess felt her heart sink.

  Fei Arentey may be kinder than her brother but his politics were not any different. She wondered how many concubines he might have in Rau'Tesche-Enra.

  When Gleyth did not further the discussion, Thella attempted a rescue. “It must have been difficult all of these years without a woman in your Tower,” she said, engaging Fa Marden. “Raising a child on your own must have been a challenge.”

  The large man grunted, brushing crumbs from his mustache. “Yes, well, it was quite difficult at times. I had nannies, of course, and tutors. There was always someone capable of handling the boy when I was not available.”

  “Still, it must have been lonely without a wife. I'm surprised you never remarried,” the Queen mused.

  “I saw no need of a replacement. My heir was produced and the other womanly duties are easily fulfilled by the staff.” Fa Marden explained it as if taking a second wife was as easy as deciding whether or not to have a second cup of coffee.

  Ky Thella smiled at him, eyes wide. It was both vindicating and disheartening to watch her mother squirm. Did she regret choosing to marry Gleyth into a Tower where she would only be valued for the heirs she produced? Was it really any different than the Queen's life with Ka Harn?

  Gleyth wished she could run.

  Glancing wistfully at the doorway she was surprised to see Kevie enter and quietly seat himself at a table near the door. She smiled in spite of herself, comforted by the Mutilator's presence; her protector. It was foolish to dwell on her feelings. She would never know the reality he offered.

  “Ky Gleyth?” surprised that Arentey dared speak to her again, she turned and forced herself to smile. “Are you well?”

  “Yes, of course, I was thinking about something else.”

  Someone else, she chided herself.

  An Imperial guard appeared at the door. He scanned the room until he found her mother among the crowd. Gleyth watched him approach the table, bowing to Ky Thella before bending to speak softly in her ear. She paled slightly before nodding and dismissing him. The Queen stood.

  “Attention,” she said, her voice carrying over the din. A hush fell on the room. “I've just been informed of good news. Before dawn Kei Xander and the Master Keeper Petor Garinsith shall set out on the hunt to end the reign of terror in the community from the escaped traitors. Let us all join in wishing them a safe and victorious journey.”

  The gathered ladies applauded. Without thinking, Gleyth turned to look at Kevie. He nodded to her solemnly. She folded her hands in her lap. A mix of emotions tumbled through her mind.

  Xander would be away from the Tower. That was always something to celebrate.

  Impyra may soon be dead; it was a cruel punishment to end her tortured existence.

  Kevie would leave and may never return. The idea hit her harder than she anticipated; a hollow pang of sorrow and regret. Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, she turned instead to look at her future; Fei Arentey was cheerfully congratulating Thella on the news.

  Trapped.

  There had to be a way to escape. Her appetite gone, Gleyth stared into her teacup, fully detaching herself from the conversation.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Easing onto the accelerator to push through a stubborn drift of snow, Sheyra felt the back tires begin to slip. She held her breath. Holding the wheel steady, she felt as the tires found purchase at last. The car lurched forward. She released her breath slowly, relieved. Soon it was going to be impossible to drive.

  “We're almost there,” Jairon said, his voice trembling.

  He was pale, clearly afraid they would slide off the road. Even if they survived a crash they could easily die from exposure in the cold. They were only a few kilometers south of Ro’Awnor-Clee. It would be frustrating to freeze to death when town was so nearby.

  “Turn here,” Jairon pointed at an opening in a stand of trees to their right. “It’s a road,” he explained without being asked.

  Beneath the trees the snow had been unable to accumulate as heavily as on the main road. The branches bowed under the extra weight, some of them scraped loudly against the top of the car. Sheyra imagined the trees leaning in closely to trap them in an icy embrace. She was glad when the road opened up to reveal a beautiful estate, it’s garden stretching down to the sea.

  “What is this place?” Sheyra asked, noting the windows were boarded shut.

  “It belonged to a wealthy merchant. He owned ten ships in the harbor. His family and all of his slaves died in the first few months of the plague, before the vaccine.” Jairon explained quietly.

  Sheyra frowned. Money was not always enough to save lives.

  “The contamination has been cleaned to be safe enough to use as a base?” Lorsen asked, leaning over the seat to get a better look at the house.

  Jairon shook his head. “This isn't the base. This is ju
st a meeting place. Follow the road around.” He pointed to the side of the house.

  Sheyra could only imagine how spectacular the home had once been. Snow drenched topiaries stood guard over long dead flowerbeds awaiting the return of spring. Tall lanterns lined the driveway, dark and unable to light the way. At the back side of the house the yard began to slope downward. Waiting at a private pier was what appeared to be an old fishing boat. A man bundled in a heavy coat with a tightly drawn hood stood on the dock.

  “There he is,” Jairon opened the door before Sheyra stopped. “Therin,” he said loudly, waving his arm.

  The man came forward, catching Jairon in a friendly embrace. Sheyra glanced back at Lorsen who observed his friend warily. Trusting Jairon was different than putting the life of his daughter into the hands of a stranger.

  Unafraid, Sheyra stepped out of the car. The man turned to take stock of her, his eyes barely visible over a heavy scarf. His skin was darker than any she’d ever seen. In that single moment all of the rumors proved true; the Ardnilians were part of the Resistance.

  “Your reckless behavior put everyone in danger,” Therin told her firmly. His voice was deep and his accent barely perceptible.

  Sheyra wasn’t in the mood for another lecture. “I realize that. It isn’t as if running from the law was something I had practice in.”

  “It is not fully your fault,” he said. “You're not a trained soldier. But one of your companions was.”

  She hadn't considered that; Brosen's mistakes were all of their mistakes. Then again, she hadn't known her card was being tracked. She didn't even know when the initial flagging had occurred. If they’d known that they never would have used the card to begin with.

  “What did the flag say?” It was the first time she’d thought to ask.

  Jairon grimaced. “It said not to engage you and report your location to the Enforcers. That’s what they reported on the screen as well; that you were armed and dangerous.”