The whimpering sounds continued, and Dormael realized that they were sobs. Moving to the edge of the bed, Dormael tried to peer through the silk curtains. There appeared to be a small body lying on the bed, but it was hard to make out. Taking one last confused glance at his cousin, who gestured at him to go on, Dormael moved the drapes aside with a tentative hand.
A young girl lay crying on the bed, cowering from Dormael in fear. She was curled up into a fetal position, her arms hugging her knees to her chest. All Dormael could see of her head was a mass of tangled, matted hair. Her knees were dirty, and Dormael noticed that she was wearing only a sheer nightgown that covered her indecent parts, and not much else. With a start, Dormael saw that her hands were bloodied, and that the dirt on her knees was not dirt at all, but also blood. Blood decorated her arms, her feet, and her pale legs.
She didn’t look any older than eight springs.
The girl raised her head and regarded him with wide, tearful eyes. D'Jenn came over and looked over Dormael's shoulder, then hissed a surprised intake of breath. The girl started and began to tremble, fresh tears leaking down her cheeks. Realizing that he still had his face mask on, Dormael hastily lowered it. D'Jenn followed a bare moment after.
“Who…who are you?” the young girl asked between sobs. Her voice was light, but watery now with the sobs that wracked her body. Dormael was at a loss for words. This was not on the list of things he had expected, and he had no idea what to do. He looked to D’Jenn, who was gazing down at the young girl with concern. Dormael looked back at her, and realized that she had a large black eye, and that her nose had been broken. One entire side of her little face was red with dried blood, and swollen with the evidence of her beating. Dormael’s heart wrenched at the sight, and a nameless anger kindled to life in his chest.
“I—,” he started, but had to swallow the lump that suddenly came to this throat. “I'm Dormael, young one, and this is my cousin, D’Jenn. There’s no reason to cry, now. We're not here to hurt you.” Dormael tried to keep his tone pleasant, but the girl didn't soften at his words. He had no idea how to act around children.
“That’s what he says every time. Not here to hurt me…but he does,” she replied, and then broke into a fresh bout of sobbing. Dormael’s face grew stony with a sudden shock of understanding. A sudden rage built up in him, and when he looked at D’Jenn, he saw his cousin’s eyes burning with an inner fire.
“Listen, young one, what is your name?” Dormael asked.
“Bethany,” she replied, still crying.
“Well, Bethany,” Dormael said, trying his best not to sound threatening. “We have come to take you away from this place…away from him.”
Dormael felt D'Jenn's sharp gaze at the back of his head, but he ignored it.
“You…you have?” the sobbing girl asked, a small glimmer of hope in her voice.
“Yes,” D’Jenn replied. “We’ll take you with us when we go.” He favored Dormael with a significant look, and the two of them nodded in agreement.
“But he said he would kill me if I tried to leave,” Bethany sniffed, a fresh bout of sobbing welling up in her voice. Her shoulders threatened to start shaking again, but Dormael cut in before she could erupt.
“We won’t let anyone hurt you, little one,” Dormael said, trying to soothe her into silence. “He can’t hurt you if you’re with us. You can trust us.”
Bethany's face twisted in momentary confusion, but her sobs abated with her uncertainty. Dormael made to put a hand on the girl's shoulder, but thought better of it as he reminded himself of what had happened to her—or might have happened to her. He couldn't be sure, and didn't want to think about it.
The sound of footsteps rang in the hallway outside, bringing everyone’s attention to the door. D’Jenn was at the window in an instant. He opened it to the cold night wind, and gestured for Dormael to follow. There were two voices in the hall now, talking in loud tones that echoed through the corridor.
“Dormael!” D’Jenn hissed. Dormael looked quickly down at the young girl cowering on the mattress, and yanked his face mask up once again.
“Listen Bethany, we’ll be right outside waiting to come get you,” he said. The girl's face twisted in sorrow again, but Dormael waved his hands at her and tried to calm her down. “No, no—don’t cry now, it's going to be alright. You have to keep us a secret, understand? We'll be back!”
He turned to rush for the window, but the girl's voice brought him up short.
“Promise?”
Dormael turned and saw her large eyes boring into him.
“I promise.”
“Dormael!” D'Jenn hissed from the opened window.
The voices were right outside the door, and Dormael could wait no longer. He rushed for the window and jumped at the last moment, flinging himself out into the open air. He could only hope that D'Jenn would close the window after him.
He felt a moment of wild panic as the air yawned beneath him. His guts flew right up into his chest at the sight, and he forced down a scream of primal fear. The air rushed into his face, but he closed his eyes and summoned his Kai.
Dormael reached out without thinking and enacted D’Jenn’s climbing spell. His hand slid along the stone surface of the tower, ripping off bits of skin until he came to a jerky stop, wrenching his shoulder. Pain screamed through his arm, and he stifled yet another cry as he got his feet onto the wall. Jaw clenched, he started the climb back to where D’Jenn hung against the stone.
Dormael’s shoulder protested every movement, and he clutched his injured hand to his chest. The climb wasn’t far, but the skin on his hand was burning. He left hand-prints in blood, dark as rust against the stone. His whole body was shaking by the time he made it back to D’Jenn, and sweat was beading on his brow. D’Jenn clutched his shoulder in a relieved grasp. Dormael raised his eyebrows in acknowledgment, but kept his mouth clamped shut against his pain.
D’Jenn put his finger to his lips, and pointed up at the window. Dormael saw that D’Jenn had indeed fixed the drapes, but the window was still ajar, and only luck had kept the wind from banging it open against the stone—that, or D'Jenn had used magic. There was now a low, yellowish light coming from inside, and shadows passed back and forth in the flickering gloom. He settled in, stifling another pained gasp, and listened.
“…was seen entering the South Gate, sir. One of those City Guardsmen brought in the report an hour past. According to the guardsman, the girl was unconscious and accompanied by a Sevenlander.”
“A Sevenlander?” the second voice echoed. “How did a westerner get involved with her?”
“I don't know, sir, and the Guardsman had no explanation. It was the savage he talked to. He told some story about the girl being his sister, but it was definitely the Baroness Llewan. The man said the girl was half dead, and he noticed the two swords tied to her saddlebags.”
Dormael cursed inwardly.
The fucking swords.
“Why didn't the man stop the Sevenlander at the gate if the girl was half dead? And how did the savage hide the fact that one of those half-wits we crucified put an arrow through her?”
“I couldn't say, sir. The Guardsman was fed a story about drunkenness. Perhaps this westerner is just...particularly convincing.”
“Fuck the gods,” cursed the voice of what Dormael presumed to be Colonel Grant. “At least we have something to go on, now.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Send orders to Captain Millar. Have his men begin rounding up all the Sevenlanders in the city. We'll parade them past this Guardsman and track down the man who brought her into Ferolan. Start down on Whiskey Row, see if any have disembarked from ships in the harbor. If we find him, we'll have the girl's trail—if not the baroness herself.”
D'Jenn favored Dormael with a significant glance. Dormael gritted his teeth and stifled another curse.
“Yes, sir,” the subordinate replied.
“I want to talk to this City Guardsman myself. I’m goi
ng down to the South Gate to learn more about this little encounter. And wake that bloody fool in the hallway! Put him on the night patrol, and make sure he doesn’t take his cloak. A full night in the cold wind ought to teach him not to fall asleep at his post.”
“As you say, Colonel.”
As the colonel raised his voice to go on his tirade, Bethany's sobs lilted out of the window to Dormael's ears. There was a rustling sound and the unmistakable noise of someone being struck. Dormael heard her whine loudly in protest, and D'Jenn placed a cautionary hand on his shoulder. He had started to climb without realizing, but settled back into position, chest pounding with indignation.
“And you keep your little mouth shut. Havram, send for the detachment's officers. I want this city searched from gutters to rooftops, and...,” the colonel's voice faded away as they left the room. The door slammed, and only the sound of Bethany's quiet sobs came out of the window.
Waiting a count of three, the two cousins slipped back inside.
There were now three candles burning on the writing desk, and the sword was gone. Bethany was sobbing, one hand cradling the side of her face. Moving quickly, D’Jenn went to listen at the door while Dormael reopened the colonel’s trunk and went through his belongings.
He found a large blue tunic, and put the rest of the items back in the trunk where he’d found them. Rushing over to the bedside, he held the garment out to Bethany, who blinked and got her sobbing under control. She took it from him and regarded him with nervous eyes.
“Go on,” he said. “It's cold out, and you can't...well, you you're not wearing that anymore.” He gestured at the nightclothes. “We'll find something better soon, I promise.”
“How did you…where…you jumped out the window!” the girl whispered.
“We’re wizards,” D’Jenn explained. “You’ll be safe with us. You have to hurry, though, little one.”
“You…you’re wizards? You mean you can use magic? Real magic?” she asked, pulling the overlarge tunic over her head. She climbed to her feet and worried at the sleeves—which hung well past the girl's tiny hands. Dormael reached out to help her, and she shied away. After a tentative exchange of nervous glances, though, she finally let him roll up her sleeves.
Bethany climbed down from the bed, wincing as she upset some unseen injury. Dormael regarded her for a moment, unable to answer the look of expectation on her face with anything intelligent. She was covered in dried and drying blood, and her hair was a tangled mess. He summoned his Kai, and let his magic whisper out around the child, causing the blood to lift from her body and flake away into the air. She gasped and reached up to touch the tangled mess that was previously matting her hair, then turned an awestruck gaze on Dormael. He smiled at her, and she returned it with a timid smile of her own.
“Alright Bethany, here’s what we’re going to do,” Dormael said. “You’re going to hold on to me as tight as you can, alright? Can you do that?” Bethany nodded back at him, still dazed about the magic. “There’s something else, little one. You can’t scream, or talk, or make any noise, alright? If anyone hears us leaving, they’ll try to bring you back here. If you want to leave, you have to be quiet.” She nodded once more, and Dormael looked back at D’Jenn.
D’Jenn gave him a quick nod, and moved to look out the window. He turned, signaled that everything was clear, then jumped from the window into the night. Bethany gasped at this, but Dormael sensed more wonder in the sound than horror.
“Alright Bethany,” Dormael said after D’Jenn had gone. “Climb up now, and hold on tight.” Bethany nodded, climbed up into Dormael’s arms and buried her face in his chest, shaking like a newborn kitten. The girl was light, but her added weight would make things that much more difficult. He removed his face mask and wrapped it around his injured hand, tying it in a quick knot. He would have to get higher in order to make the jump back to the inner wall.
Dormael shifted Bethany around to his back, and this time crawled out of the window onto the tower outside, performing D’Jenn’s spell with more care—a lesson his bloody hand had helped him learn. Bethany kept her face buried into his shoulders and shook as much as ever, but she didn't cry, or loosen her grip. Dormael was thankful for that.
He climbed up the tower, his shoulder protesting with every pull, his hand stinging anew at each touch. With a powerful effort he hauled himself over the ledge at the top of the tower, climbing up to stand on the sloped, pointed roof. For one sickening instant he became dizzy and almost fell, but regained his composure and secured his footing on the tiles.
The surrounded countryside spread out beneath him on all sides, and Dormael once again fought dizziness as he took it in. The wind buffeted him and caused his balance to waver, but he stilled his fear and forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. Bethany's arms tightened around his throat, and at a look, he saw that she was clenching her eyes shut. The wind whipped her hair and the tunic back and forth.
Thunder rumbled across the sky, and Dormael felt the first drops of rain on his head, heralding the coming storm. Clouds still kept the moon hidden behind a shadowy veil, and it was dark enough so that his form was not silhouetted against the top of the tower—or so he hoped. The main tower of the castle rose up to his left, light shining from different windows along its face. He prayed to the gods that no one was looking out at the moment. Taking a deep breath, Dormael judged the distance to the wall, and tried to silence his fear. He reached up to loosen Bethany’s arms, so he could switch her back to being carried against his chest.
“Don’t open your eyes, young one, just hold onto my hand,” he said, trying to calm her as her feet touched the sloped tiles. “Just climb up here, hold on tight, and whatever you do, don’t let go or open your eyes. Are you ready?” Bethany didn’t answer him as she climbed up to wrap her arms around his neck. She muffled a whimper into his chest, where she had once again buried her face, and he put his arms around her.
“Here we go,” he said, taking a deep breath.
Dormael took one springing step, pushing out with his right foot as hard as he could, and sailed into the empty air. The rain suddenly came down cold and hard, whispering like ghostly applause. Whipping out with his Kai, he cast his floating spell on the both of them, arresting their fall. They descended in an arc toward the battlements of the seaward wall. Bethany tightened her grip on him until he thought he would suffocate, but she made no sound as they floated toward their target. Dormael's guts tightened as the inner wall came into sight, but he and the girl sailed over it without coming too near the battlements. He had felt sure he would hit it, but it must have been a trick of his perspective.
Then his stomach did a backflip as the outer wall came out of the night, and he realized how fast they were hurtling toward it. For a brief moment Dormael thought he was going to miss the walkway on the battlements and tumble over the side, but then his feet touched down on the stone. He had to roll as the momentum pushed him from his feet, and he wrapped a bit of magic around his body to protect himself and the girl. His back slammed against the outer parapet, knocking the breath from him, and the two of them came to a stop. D’Jenn came creeping up to them along the walkway, materializing out of the rainy night.
I thought you'd been caught for a moment, D'Jenn's hands said. What took you so long?
I had to get higher in order to make the jump, Dormael replied, nodding down at Bethany as he extricated her arms from his neck.
She must be a brave little thing, D'Jenn signed.
Or just determined to get out of here—like me, Dormael’s fingers answered. Now, let's go. It's cold as Saarnok's heart out here.
“You there! Stop where you are!” a voice cut through the rain behind them.
Dormael turned and saw two guards running toward them through the pouring rain, swords drawn. He cursed and pushed Bethany behind him. He hadn't seen the guards as he'd made the jump, but maybe the rain had shielded them from his sight. The night was certainly dark enough under the st
orm.
“Eindor's bloody eye,” D'Jenn cursed. “You know what we have to do.”
“Aye, I know.”
The men were still running, getting closer.
“How do you want to do it?” D'Jenn asked.
Dormael turned a blank look on his cousin.
“It looks like these poor bastards just slipped and fell in the storm. Tumbled over the side. Tragedy, that.”
“Tragedy,” D'Jenn nodded.
Dormael took a deep breath, coaxing more power from his Kai. He could feel the magic spinning around him in a wild storm, touching each individual raindrop with a tiny musical note that registered only in his mind. His veins felt like they were full of lightning, his mind full of ringing music.
Dormael reached out and clenched his fist, wrapping one of the guards in his magical grip. The man let out a choked sound for a split second before Dormael's magic clenched down on his chest, stifling his ability to breath. Dormael raised his arm and the man rose from the stones with it, spread-eagle and silent, though his eyes were full of terror. Dormael regretted the necessity of killing these two, as they were only doing their duties, but they could not allow themselves to be seen.
With a flick of Dormael's wrist, the guardsman tumbled silently over the wall and into the dark. D'Jenn's man went only a bare moment after, and the two wizards were once again alone with the youngling. The rain filled the silence with its haunting whisper. Bethany gaped at the place where the men had just stood.
“Come, girl, we must leave now!” D’Jenn said, grasping Bethany’s hand and dragging the stunned girl along with him. Dormael followed close behind, looking around all the while for more roving castle guards. D’Jenn, reaching the spot where the cousins had climbed up the wall the first time, hoisted the girl up onto a parapet and climbed up beside her.
“Do you think we can reach the park from here with your floating spell?” D’Jenn asked while Dormael climbed up on Bethany's other side.
The Seven Signs: Three Book Collection Page 15