by Jason Malone
“Thank you for what you have told me, and for the wine,” I said. “We will speak more tomorrow, and I will see if I can cure you.”
“My wife and I thank you, Edward. I hope that even if we do not banish this spirit, I will at least gain a new friend. Goodnight.” William smiled, and I gave him a short bow. Philip and I left him alone with his wife and made our way back to where we were camped.
What William had told me was troubling, and all desire I had to sneak away from the camp and escape my bondage with Odo had gone. I had dealt with mara before, but William’s case was unique and, frankly, much more severe than most others. I did not wish to tell William, but in most cases the mara only takes the form of the ugly dwarf or some unknown woman.
The fact that William spoke to his mara and that it would take the form of Eleni or his sister told me it was likely Hefenstea, goddess of vengeance, was inflicting some cruel punishment upon him.
But for what?
The next day was very much the same as the day before, except our column was larger. William and the vanguard rode with us, and the Earl of Hariton joined the army, adding an extra hundred or so soldiers. I estimated the entire army numbered at least one thousand strong, with the vanguard making up a quarter of that. This was by no means a large army, nor was it small. Besides, it was only needed to defeat a small group of rebels.
A housecarl I spoke to reckoned the entire force would triple in size once it had joined with the king at the Capital. “The king can raise around four thousand troops from his own lands,” the warrior told me. “He will not bring them all, of course.”
“Are other noblemen joining the army?” I asked.
“Some lesser nobles will bring their oathmen and a few hundred peasants. Together I’m guessing they’ll make up one thousand. But the bulk of the force will comprise of Lord Odo and King Stephan’s army.”
Odo’s men should not have been telling me details about his army. I was no spy, but to tell a stranger about a force’s numbers was dangerous.
At around noon the army stopped marching so the soldiers could rest. There was light rainfall — the first I had seen this year. My companions and I found shelter under a large tree so we could stay relatively dry while we ate, but not long after we sat down we were approached by two warriors escorting Eleni. “Hello, Edward,” she said.
I stood and bowed, but she gave me a wave of her hand to brush away the formalities. She was dressed very modestly in a thick, hooded leather coat that she had wrapped around her entire body to keep her dry. One would never have guessed she was a noblewoman.
“Lady Eleni,” I said with a smile. “I hope you and your husband slept well last night.”
She nodded but had a grim look about her. “William saw the thing last night.”
“I thought he would.”
Eleni shook her head. “No matter. That is why you are here, no? To help my husband? William wishes to speak with you. Will you walk with me?” She held out her arm for me, and I took her hand in mine and linked our arms together. We walked away from the tree and out into the rain, and I pulled my hood up to keep the cold drizzle out of my hair. Eleni’s bodyguards followed several yards behind us.
“I can tell you are not from here, My Lady,” I said as we walked.
Eleni sighed. “It seems that is the first thing all men notice in your country,” she said. She smiled. “I am from the place your people call the ‘Almond Isles,’ across the sea. My father is very wealthy and owns many ships.”
I nodded, remembering that the man I had met in Tidegate was from the same place. The native name for the Almond Isles is Maricar, and the people there are the greatest seafarers and traders in the world. I have never been to Maricar, but I have wanted to go. I hear that their islands are the closest thing one can come to paradise in this world. Our name for it comes from the vast amounts of almonds the islanders grow and export.
“When I first saw you in William’s tent, I sensed in you a great power. I can tell you are touched by your gods,” said Eleni.
“That is one way of putting it. I have heard your people only have one god,” I said. I wondered if Eleni often got the chance to speak about her homeland.
“We venerate many beings that could be called gods, but they are only the servants and children of the Highest,” she told me. “My people believe that the Highest is absolute. The Highest sees all and hears all, and He is a part of all things. The rain, the grass, you and I, and even the gods. They are all a part of the Highest, and He is a part of them.”
“I don’t understand, My Lady.”
Eleni laughed. “I sometimes have trouble understanding your religion. You believe the world is two-natured?”
I nodded. “That is correct. Our world is mirrored by the Otherworld, and we have mortal and immortal, body and soul, light and dark, and so forth.”
“But you have what your priests call the Divine, which is the source of all things? Perhaps what we call the Highest, you call the Divine.”
“Perhaps, but although the Divine is the source of all things, it is not a part of all things, and we do not worship it.”
Eleni frowned. “How can there be two natures when all things come from the one Divine?”
“I suppose the Divine is also two-natured.”
“Then there is no difference between our beliefs, and the Divine and the Highest are the same. Or perhaps we are both wrong, and there is only what we can see and feel.” Eleni lifted her hand to feel the rain fall against her palm. “Ah, but that would be ridiculous.”
We passed a group of soldiers sitting around a tray of cheeses, and they all raised their drinks to Eleni as we passed. She nodded to them.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you come to marry an Ardish nobleman?”
Eleni grinned and leant in closer to me. “I suspect William’s father wanted to make use of my father’s fleet. Odo has the best army in this land, I have heard, and now he is allied with the man with one of the best navies.”
That made sense. Odo was an ambitious man, and forming a marital union with one of the Sealords of Maricar would only reinforce his power. I had guessed that the marriage between Eleni and William was one born of politics, not love, although they seemed fond of each other.
“How long have you and William been married?”
“Two months. But we were betrothed for one year before that. I have been trying to become pregnant, but because of the dreams, William has…”
“William has what?”
“He has not been in the mood!” Eleni laughed, and I chuckled with her.
“Well, My Lady, I hope I can banish this spirit so he is in the mood again.”
Eleni smirked, and we arrived at what I assumed was William’s carriage. It was very fancy — gilded, of course — and had four large wheels. It was pulled by four black horses and guarded by two warriors.
“My husband wants to talk in private, so I shall go and wait under that tree away from the rain. Will I ever get used to the cold and the wet? It seems to be a daily occurrence in your land,” said Eleni.
I laughed. “I doubt it, My Lady. Thank you for walking me here.” I bowed, and one of the men opened the carriage door for me.
William was sitting inside reading a book, or at least trying to. The carriage was surprisingly warm, a nice contrast to the cold outside. The seats were soft and had velvet covers, and a small table sat in the middle with a jug of wine and two cups.
“Good book?” I asked, taking a seat opposite William. The carriage door closed behind me.
“Sorry?” He looked up at me.
“The book you are reading. Is it good?”
“Oh, well, yes. Sorry. I forgot I was even reading it,” he said, blushing. “Oh, goodness. It is upside down.”
“You are tired, aren’t you?”
“Very.” He sighed. William filled the cups with wine, handed one to me, and then took a sip from his own.
“Do you drink often?” I asked
. The wine was a very rich, very strong red — one you would expect to drink with supper.
“Not until recently. I drink now to get me through the day.”
“Well, I would suggest you stop. It would just weaken your will and make you more susceptible to your mara.”
William frowned, looked at his cup, and put it down on the table. “Thank you for that piece of advice. I saw the mara again last night. It looked like Eleni this time.”
“So I heard. Listen, I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like to hear first?”
“Oh, Gods. Well, the bad news of course. That way the good news will make me feel better.” William gave a tired smile.
“I have never encountered a mara this strong before. It sounds very powerful, and the fact you talk to it is a bad sign. It is more connected to you than a typical mara would be.”
“And the good news?”
“Mara are some of the most common Otherworldly problems folk have, so I have dealt with many in my short time as a Godspeaker. Although yours is particularly strong, it will have the same weaknesses as all mara. I do know a ritual I can perform which should work, and I can give you some herbs to help. The problem is — well, never mind that.”
William frowned. “What is it?”
“Well, my master performed the ritual once, and the dreamer died in her sleep. Her heart just…stopped,” I explained. I looked out the carriage window, watching the rain fall hard. It was getting heavier, and the ground was starting to muddy.
“I do not care,” William said. “If you think you can help me, I will trust you. I think I would rather die than endure this for the rest of my life anyway.”
I nodded. William may have looked weak and feeble, but I could tell he had a strong heart and was courageous. Most men would have been driven mad by the dreams that William had suffered. I explained the details of the ritual, but he seemed to have no idea what I was talking about. He was just eager to get it done and destroy this spirit.
The ritual would allow me to speak to the mara, weaken it, and banish it to the Otherworld forever. I had performed it before, and each time I had succeeded, but those cases were when the mara had attached itself to the victim by its own free will. I had never dealt with a mara sent by the Gods before, and I had a suspicion William’s was. I admit I was a little nervous.
William and I had little time to chat, since the army was on the move again. It did not seem like the rain would stop soon, so Odo decided we would just march on and hope it cleared up before we got too cold. Rain could be deadly to an army marching in the colder months. Fortunately, the rain stopped shortly after we left, and the clouds parted to give us the last few hours of sunlight before dusk.
The army made camp in an empty meadow beside a ruined castle that used to watch over the Royal Way. Odo, William, and the other nobles all set up their camp in that castle, whereas the rest of us erected our tents outside. I went inside mine to meditate and rest. Later, once everyone was asleep, I would visit William and we would begin the ritual. I needed my strength for that.
I had a short nap and skipped supper, and once most of the camp had gone quiet, I was woken by one of William’s warriors. It was time to fight a tormentor sent by the Gods.
10
Mara
William sat up in his bed, awaiting instruction. With Eleni and Philip’s help, I had been preparing the ritual that would put William to sleep and allow me to banish the mara that possessed him. I brewed a potion of sorts out of a mixture of wine and a special type of mushroom found around animal droppings that I had Philip collect for me. “Tell me again about this ritual,” William said.
“Once Eleni has returned from the physician with the herbs I need, I will get you to drink this concoction I have made, we will burn the herbs, and then you will inhale the smoke,” I explained. “The smoke will induce the nightmares you are having and trap you within the dream state. The mara will need to expend a lot of energy to wake you up this time, and that will weaken it.”
“This sounds…safe.”
“You’re in good hands. The drink will make your dreams more vivid but will loosen the mara’s hold so you may speak to me while it torments you. I will not be able to see the mara, so I will need you to tell me when it appears.”
William sighed. I could tell he was fearful, but I was confident in my ability to banish this spirit. I had dealt with beings far worse in my time. William was about to speak, but Eleni entered and interrupted him. She wore her large, plain cloak again because the rain had returned. Eleni carried a small bag and smiled as she came in.
“I have the plants,” she said. She handed me the bag, and I poured the herbs out into an empty bowl.
“Thank you,” I said. “You kept them dry, yes?”
“Yes.”
I began crushing the herbs and mixing them together. I asked Eleni to fetch me a large match, which I would use to burn the herbs and create smoke.
“Is there anything I need to do, master?” Philip asked. He sat by the fire, keeping it burning.
“When I say so, put out the fire and wait outside with Lady Eleni,” I replied. I did not want Philip present once the mara appeared because he was still untrained in the using of his Gift, which could have been more an obstacle than a boon. He wanted to watch but understood why he could not.
Everything was now ready. William was comfortable and prepared to sleep, the mushroom concoction was made, and the herbs were ready to burn. I handed William the cup and instructed him to down it all. He grimaced but managed to swallow all of it.
“Out, everyone,” I said.
Philip emptied a jug of water over the fire. It hissed. I took a deep breath and put a rag over my mouth while the other two left the tent. I pressed the match against the mixed herbs, and they started to smoke and catch. I held them out to William and told him to breathe it all in. He took three long, deep breaths. One. Two. Three.
“It won’t take long, My Lord.”
Sure enough, William’s eyes fluttered and his breathing softened. He drifted off to sleep. I waited in silence, meditating, listening to the soft patter of rain on the roof of the tent and the last gasps of breath made by the fire’s embers, along with the occasional laugh or shout from somewhere in the camp. I made a few quiet prayers and let my mind focus as I sat in darkness. William would dream soon, and with those dreams would come his tormentor.
Before long he began to mumble.
“William,” I whispered, moving over to his side. “Can you hear me?”
He muttered something but aside from that made no response. I sat back and waited. William twitched and shivered while whispering and mumbling incoherently. He was dreaming now, and soon the mara would come. It would take a lot of strength for it to break into William’s mind and feed on his nightmares this time. I would have the upper hand.
Or so I thought.
“Ed—Edward,” William said. “Edward, I cannot move.”
“Calm yourself, I am here, my friend. Trust in the Gods,” I said. I put a hand on William’s arm and squeezed. His body was like ice. It was dark, but despite that I could see William trembling.
“She is here,” he said.
A cold chill crept up my spine. “What form does it take?”
“A girl. I do not know her.” His voice was a whisper, as though he feared the spirit would hear him.
“Describe her.”
“Her skin is pale. She is thin. Her eyes glow blue, and her hair is black as night. She has the wings of a moth—”
I shuddered. “That will do, William. Can you touch her?”
“She sits on my chest. I cannot move.”
“Ask her name.”
I heard William mumble something. I did not understand, but it seemed he spoke another language, some harsh and guttural tongue. Then he spoke to me. “She will not reply. She only stares.”
And at that, my blood ran cold. It was as I feared. William was ruled by a mara sent by the Avenger. L
esser mara — the Thorns in the service of Vylan — would never refuse to offer their names. They were proud spirits and wanted their victims to know exactly who haunted their sleep.
I had banished many mara both before and after my master’s death, and each time they had revealed their names. I needed a name so I could banish the mara. The charm required it. “Do not take your eyes off of her, William,” I said.
I reached into the pouch at my belt and pulled out a small iron trinket. It was little more than a bent rod, but it had hidden power. I placed it in William’s hand and closed his fist tight around it.
“She is watching you,” William warned. I felt the air turn cold. Very cold. The tent flapped and shook. I fell back, picked up my sword, and clambered to my feet. I held the hilt with both hands and pointed the blade in William’s direction.
I must admit, my spirits were shaken in that moment. I was afraid. What calmness I did have was now gone, and my heart was racing. I could hear the blood pumping in my ears, beating like the drums of death.
“Begone, monster,” I yelled. “Begone, foul spirit! Go back to the world in which you belong. You are henceforth banished from here, vile slave of Hefenstea. Return to your mistress. Begone!”
That was no proper incantation. I made it up as I went, since I was at a loss for what to say. I was hoping beyond all hope that this mara would be like those I had faced before, but I should have known better. The incantation was false, and of course, it did not work.
And then came the screaming. At first I thought it was in the tent, or near it, but as it grew louder, I knew it was in my head. Or was it? I dropped my sword and fell to my knees, my hands pressed against my ears in vain.
I knew those screams. I do not know how I knew, but I did. They were the cries of my mother in her final moments. She died in childbirth, bringing me into the world, and for that I had never been able to forgive myself. I never knew my mother or her voice, only her screams of anguish as she tore and bled and died. A second voice began to wail in my head, and it spoke to me.