The Way of Pain

by Gregory Mattix

  Mira stepped out from cover, intending to stand beside Creel. The lead creature’s head abruptly swiveled toward her, pinning her with the power of her gaze. She froze in place, awed by the creatures and abruptly filled with a strong desire to please them.

  “Stand down, mortal,” the leader commanded when her hard stare turned to Creel. She obviously expected him to obey and seemed surprised when he took another step forward.

  “Not today, erinys,” he said.

  The second erinys, her hair a dark umber, raised a hand, apparently gesturing for the two yet airborne to loose their arrows. At that moment, Ferret suddenly rushed her. Startled like some great crows from their meal of carrion, the two erinys on the ground beat their wings and leaped, seeking to retreat back to the air.

  Fiery arrows sizzled down. Creel narrowly dodged the first. The second struck Ferret in the shoulder. She lurched a step sideways then shrugged it off and continued her charge, her clothing smoldering. She leaped up and grasped the ankle of the umber-haired erinys before she could gain enough altitude. Ferret’s weight dragged her from the sky. When her feet touched down, she whipped the erinys around and slammed the creature into the ground in a flurry of flying feathers and dried leaves.

  Creel leaped and swung Final Strike at the lead erinys as she gained altitude. The blade struck her in the knee, cleaving through her slender avian leg and sending it spinning to the ground in a fountain of ichor. The creature shrieked in pain and rage as she gained enough distance to draw her bow again.

  An arrow streaked over Mira’s head and struck the lead erinys in the breastplate. The shaft splintered and did no harm, but it drew her attention to Taren, who stood openly before a tree while reaching for another arrow.

  Mira came to her senses then, shamed by the knowledge she had been standing spellbound while Taren was exposed to danger. She quickly took stock of the situation but could see no way to take the offensive against their foes when they were out of range.

  Ferret and the erinys were battling in the brush, but the girl clearly had the advantage with the creature grounded, punching and stabbing the fiend until she lay still.

  Mira watched helplessly as the three remaining erinys nocked arrows. She moved toward Taren, thinking to shield him with her own body if it came to that, for she could not deflect a magical bolt.

  Yet another bolt of fire suddenly lanced down out of the sky and struck the lead erinys in the back, sending her spiraling downward with a pained shriek. Creel met her, impaling her on his sword as she fell and dashing her to the ground. He hacked her head from her body.

  The other two erinys wheeled around, searching for their ambusher, yet were momentarily blinded by the sun’s disc as a shadow passed across it. One of them took a flaming arrow to the face and tumbled from the sky. Mira was bewildered to note the attacker appeared to be another erinys, this one with black hair shorn short at her neck and left longer at the bangs. This new arrival dove from on high, loosing another arrow, but her target dropped below it. She was then forced to tuck into a tight roll to evade an incoming fiery arrow. The black-haired erinys twisted and spun, drawing closer, as her prey continued to fire upon her. She evaded a second and a third arrow before a fourth struck her wing. The fiery bolt glanced off harmlessly and streaked away over the woods. Then the attacker fell upon her prey.

  She drew something from her hip, what looked to be a hilt and crossguard of a sword. When drawn, it burst into flame, a fountain of hellfire issuing from the crossguard, black and red flames roiling and sparking. The two erinys collided in a flurry of wings and scrabbling claws. The defender tried to get one last shot off, but her arm fell away instead, cleaved off by the burning sword. The bow remained in the clenched fist, the flames extinguishing as it plummeted into the forest. Another stroke of the flaming sword plunged through the erinys’s breast, the hellfire boiling over her. When the sword-wielding erinys drew her blade free, her opponent fell lifelessly from the sky, trailing smoke. A loud crack sounded when her broken body struck the thick bough of a tree, and she lay there, folded backward over the branch like a child’s broken kite.

  The companions watched warily as the newly arrived erinys drifted down toward them with slow, graceful beats of her wings. She sheathed the hellfire blade, the flames extinguishing once she latched it to her hip. In her other hand, she held her bow unthreateningly.

  Mira moved up beside Creel and Ferret, poised to attack the creature, but she held out her hands placatingly.

  “I have no desire to fight you, mortals,” she said, her voice low and throaty, deeper than her fellow erinys, yet also sounding like a damaged musical instrument. She landed lightly upon avian feet and regarded them with striking eyes, like flecks of polished gold suspended in pitch. Scars and brands mottled the exposed flesh of her face, neck, and arms, like an attempt to mar what must have once been unearthly beauty. She folded her wings neatly behind her back.

  Taren and Sianna approached cautiously, clearly both entranced and unnerved by the creature.

  “Who are you, and why did you fall upon these others?” Creel asked. He lowered his sword but still looked wary.

  “You may call me Sirath.” She studied each of them a long moment with her piercing gaze.

  When Sirath locked eyes with her, Mira sensed the creature’s power but not the beguiling force of whatever charm the other had used against her.

  “I destroyed my sisters in order to thwart my foe, who dispatched them to capture your young queen.” Sirath nodded at Sianna.

  The queen cleared her throat and stepped forward, her bearing dignified with head high and shoulders back. “Thank you for your timely aid, Sirath. Might we repay you somehow?”

  “Careful, Your Majesty,” Creel warned. “She is a fiend of the Abyss, and you do not want to make a pact with such as her.”

  Clearly amused, Sirath swiveled her head to regard Creel a moment before returning her attention to Sianna. “He is wise to caution you, yet there is naught you can give that I want. That which I seek no mortal can provide.” Her gaze shifted to Taren, and her eyes narrowed as if puzzled. “You are of the same blood as one to whom I owe much.” After a moment, a smile came to her lips, like a glimpse of sunlight through the clouds, revealing her once ethereal beauty. “Ah. Now her plans become transpicuous. She will become enraged to know both of those she seeks have slipped through her grasp.”

  “Whom do you speak of?” Sianna asked. “Is it that fiend with silver eyes who attacked the castle, the one who calls herself Nesnys?”

  “Yes, that is so. She and I are old nemeses, and I would thwart her ambitions. Know that she has the favor of Lord Shaol himself and tremendous resources at her disposal. I do not yet know the scope of their plans, yet I shall attempt to ascertain what they are. I sense this warmongering is but a cover for something much greater.”

  “You said she seeks us. Why is that?” Taren asked.

  Sirath tilted her head, an avian mannerism. “The rightful queen, because she poses a danger if she can rally the kingdom behind her. And you, for the blood running through your veins. She seeks vengeance on her sister—your mother, I would guess. Neratiri.”

  “But I’ve never known her. How…” Taren trailed off as his eyes widened.

  “And she was wise to make it so, yet despite her precautions, here you are, on the run and caught up in schemes beyond your ken. The gods manipulate their pawns in a great game, and all we can do is accept the fate they deal us.”

  They were silent for a long moment, digesting her words.

  “Will you join with us?” Sianna asked. “You would prove a powerful ally.”

  Sirath didn’t reply right away, perhaps considering her offer. “No, I prefer what solitude I might find alone. There is much I must contemplate, but I shall not hinder you or yours. I know not where my own fate will lead, yet I sense in time our paths may cross again. Farewell, mortals, and be not always so trusting of whoever comes across your path acting as a friend.” She dipped
her head and leaped into the air, her broad wings beating powerfully until she soared off out of sight.

  Everyone exchanged confused glances, not quite sure what had transpired yet glad to have narrowly survived another attack.

  “Help! Over here!” Iris was waving to them from a short distance away, beneath the trees.

  “Rafe,” Sianna said and ran over to her friends.

  ***

  Sianna fell to her knees beside Rafe and Iris. The guard lay on his back, Iris clutching his right hand. His left hand was maimed, missing the last two fingers, the skin blackened and wounds cauterized from the fiery arrow that had struck him. His upper chest was bleeding from a shard of metal shrapnel that had pierced his mail shirt.

  Sianna squeezed his shoulder, again feeling useless at her ignorance of how best to treat his injuries. “Oh, gods, Rafe.” You can’t die on me.

  “Y-your Majesty,” he stammered, face pale and skin clammy. “I’m sorry I failed to defend you.”

  “Hush, Rafe. Just rest,” Sianna said.

  “I think he’s in shock.” Iris smoothed his sweaty hair from his forehead.

  Creel joined them, inspecting Rafe’s mangled hand and the piece of shrapnel in his chest. Despite Creel’s own chest wound, he seemed to be not only barely injured, yet somehow even regaining strength. Sianna winced at the sight of the blackened flesh gaping in his chest through a hole in his leather cuirass.

  “At least it wasn’t your sword hand, Rafe,” Creel said. “Good thing you were holding your helm, or you’d likely be dead right now.” He looked at Sianna. “If that piece of metal hasn’t gone too deep, I think he’ll survive, barring a pierced artery in there. The hand he’ll just have to live with.”

  Ferret picked up and examined a curved piece of metal, the remainder of Rafe’s helm. The steel had burst asunder, split into several protruding shards resembling the petals of a flower.

  They took some time to tend to Rafe. Creel plucked the shard of metal from the guard’s chest and directed Iris to hold a cloth to the wound. The puncture wasn’t as deep as Sianna had feared. Once the bleeding subsided somewhat, Creel readied his bone needle and gut string, but Iris insisted she could do a better job stitching up his wound than the crude work Creel had done earlier. The warrior happily relinquished the duty to Iris, looking amused.

  Sianna was proud of her friend—Iris was becoming a survivor, learning to do what needed to be done to aid the group. A week or two past, she’d likely have fainted or retched in disgust at the sight of such ugly wounds.

  Although she looked pale and flinched the first few times she jabbed Rafe, Iris did a competent job, sewing the injury up cleanly. Rafe gave her encouragement throughout the process, and when it was finished, she held the water skin to his lips so that he could drink deeply. Creel prepared a pungent salve on a flat stone with some herbs and reagents from a satchel. Iris gently rubbed the salve over Rafe’s stitched-up chest wound and also his burned hand before bandaging them. As Creel had said, there was little else that could be done for the guardsman’s injuries.

  “It’s good that Rafe will recover.” Taren had approached while Sianna was watching them treat the guard. “He seems like a good man.”

  She nodded, meeting his rust-colored eyes. “He is—I trust him with my life.”

  “I’m sorry for earlier. I shouldn’t have, um, manhandled you in such a manner.” He looked embarrassed. “I was afraid for your safety, especially with Rafe and Creel already down.”

  Sianna considered him anew, especially in light of what Sirath had revealed. She was curious as to what the erinys had referenced and how this young man might fit into Nesnys’s schemes. She was, however, impressed with his chivalry in shielding her from harm. “I forgive you… on one condition.” She pinned him with a stern look as her mother might have, folding her arms across her chest.

  “Anything—just speak it.” He looked down at his feet, as though afraid to garner her displeasure. She didn’t think him cowed, just a bit dejected by her tough act.

  “You must tell me of what that creature Sirath spoke of—about how Nesnys wishes to use you to get revenge on your mother.”

  Taren looked relieved. “Oh, of course, Your Majesty. Your kingdom is at stake, so it’s only right you know all the facts in order to make necessary decisions.”

  “Just Sianna, remember? What you say is true, but my thoughts were more curiosity than anything. It may seem a selfish wish, but I’d enjoy learning more about my traveling companions.” She couldn’t keep up her stern mask any longer, and a smile slipped free. “Tell me on the road—it looks as if the others are ready to continue onward. And a warm meal and soft bed tonight are worth a hard day’s travel.” She moved past him but not before she glimpsed his relieved grin.

  She caught Iris looking at her curiously, and her own smile slipped as she composed herself. But Iris didn’t seem to be in the mood to lecture her or pester her with questions. Instead, she simply looked frightened by their ordeal.

  Sianna wondered if something was wrong with her, for she hadn’t felt scared since meeting their new companions, even during the erinys attack. She considered how Taren and Mira often discussed the Weave. She was familiar with the concept and couldn’t help but think perhaps they were right, that they had been drawn together for a reason only the gods knew.

  ***

  Following the attack, the rest of the day passed uneventfully. Creel kept one eye on the path, the other toward the skies. He was relieved when they made it until nightfall without any further attacks or signs of pursuit.

  With Rafe’s and Iris’s injuries, their progress was slower than he was hoping for, but nobody complained. Instead, everyone seemed to be at ease with the more relaxed pace. Taren and Sianna in particular seemed to be enjoying themselves, spending the greater part of the afternoon in easy conversation.

  You’d best lose any thoughts on that front, lad. She’s a queen and is destined to marry highborn. Very young and inexperienced though… and perhaps too soft-hearted to spurn you.

  Sianna had conducted herself well in dealing with the situation thus far, particularly in handling the captive Nebarans. Yet he knew in their current, perilous circumstances, she would doubtless need to leverage her blood and station in order to salvage her kingdom—and that likely meant marrying to consolidate her power in the weeks and months ahead.

  His mind turned to what lay ahead. He intended to take them to a safe place once they reached Llantry. Also, he was looking forward to seeing his old friend Brom and his wife again… and then there was Rada.

  Best not think on her right now.

  With some difficulty, he instead thought of the plans they’d made the prior night, to part ways. He was almost tempted to go with Taren and the others, both to try to aid Ferret and simply for curiosity’s sake as to the new stewardship in Nexus, but he decided against it. The fact that he was powerless to aid Ferret especially irked him, particularly after she’d spent much of her time looking after him during his confinement at Ammon Nor, but he trusted Taren to take care of her. And Nexus was as good a destination as any to seek a remedy for her condition. Creel’s duty now lay with his young queen—to protect her that she might see another dawn. What she chose to do with the next day and the one after were her concern. Ensuring she lived to rally a nation behind her seemed the best way to use his skills, which he hoped would save Ketania and the land he called home. That monumental task would take a healthy dollop of diplomacy, charisma, and grit. Grit was something he knew quite well, but the other two factors were beyond him. He was neither diplomatic nor inspirational—both crucial qualities of a leader. Sianna showed great promise, however, and he had no doubt she would make a fine leader someday. He just hoped she would live to see that day and it wouldn’t arrive too late.

  They pressed onward until well after dusk, knowing they were close to Llantry. The promise of a warm meal and comfortable bed was a potent motivator to their weary bodies. Several hours after sunse
t, they broke from the woods, and there, a mile past the fields of nearby farmsteads, stood the gates of the sprawling city. A multitude of lights lit up the night, ranging from streetlights to candles in windows, the low-hanging clouds reflecting the lambency with a soft glow. Castle Llantry was visible on its bluff above the city, the foreboding ramparts illuminated in places, as were windows in the keep.

  Ferret walked up to stand beside him. “So that’s why it’s called the City of Lights. I never imagined such a huge city. It must be thrice the size of Ammon Nor.”

  “Much larger than that, I reckon. Perhaps eight or ten times the size. You can’t even see the port from here and all that surrounds it.”

  Sianna approached and stood regarding Llantry for a silent moment. “Where shall we go, Master Creel? I fear spies and assassins yet lurk in the shadows.”

  “Aye, as do I. I know a safe place, an inn run by a trusted friend. We’ll be safe there for a night, provided you aren’t recognized. Be sure to keep your cowl drawn low—the same for Iris and Rafe, for they are known about the castle and could be identified as your associates.”

  They crossed a field and then followed a country lane that joined a broad road leading up to the gates. As they approached the city, nearly their entire group was cloaked and hooded. Fortunately, the night carried a chill wind blowing off the sea, thick with the smell of brine, so they didn’t look too out of place among the few other travelers and merchants approaching the gates. As this was the capital of Ketania, the gates traditionally remained open all night in Llantry although with circumstances being what they were, Creel feared a curfew might have been implemented.

  The guard presence was substantially increased, yet fortunately, the gates remained open. A cluster of guards stood around eyeing travelers as they passed. Creel moved to walk beside Sianna and her two friends while he motioned Taren and the others to fall back a few hundred paces to walk near a traveling merchant’s cart so they didn’t draw undue attention with such a large group.