Blades of Fate

by Alledria Hurt

  A sore bum from sitting so long brought Leviana to wakefulness. The combination of tingling and numbness was unappealing at best. What passed for a sunny day in the half-buried city washed overhead, but she saw little of it through the gloom. At her feet lay coins, small bits of silver and cooper. She had slept through them being thrown there by passers by. That did not keep her from picking them up and pocketing them. She had only what was in her saddlebag, which wasn't much. Every little bit could help.

  Throwing the bag over her shoulder, she looked around hastily. No one stood close, but at the intersection of the street two men stood talking. They had their heads together as if they didn't want anyone else to hear their conversation. At first, Leviana was content to let them be, but when one tried to covertly point at her, she took more interest in what they may be up to. The first man sidled up to her with a smile.

  "May we help you, ma'am?"

  "I do not require assistance," she said splitting her attention between the two men. The closest one was shorter but looked as if he might be the stronger of the two. The second was more built like a willow tree, all long limbs and torso. "What can you offer me?" she asked.

  "A way out of this godforsaken city," the second said. He did not draw any closer but seemed content to discuss his business from a distance. "That's all we offer, a chance to escape from here."

  "I wish to leave, but I do not see where I will need your assistance to do so."

  "If the Queen doesn't want you to leave, then you will never leave," the first said. "Has the Queen given you permission to leave?"

  "I don't know," Leviana said turning her back on the pair while simultaneously listening for any sounds that might say pursuit. "She gave me her hospitality for one night and I have used that up. Now I wish to leave this town with only what I have."

  "Then you haven't been given leave to leave as the saying goes."

  "Why would she wish to keep me here?"

  "Who knows why the Queen does anything? We only know that there is one way out she has not accounted for and we know what it is. We sell that information to the enterprising like yourself."

  "And what is to say I cannot find this out for myself?" Leviana asked the willow man who had gone silent. "Certainly it cannot be some grave secret."

  "Ah, but it is. The Queen would slaughter all who know it. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to keep everyone here as her play toys."

  "I think you misunderstand your Queen." Leviana took several steps away and waited for them to come after her. If they were like those she had encountered before, her refusal would only bring on greater promises of what she could have.

  "Perhaps you'd like a horse as well," the shorter man said. "We know where you can get one of those for cheap."

  "If it is a cheap horse, it is likely a nag and nags die quickly."

  "The lady speaks the truth," the willow man said. "However, we know it is no nag. It's just the small matter of liberating it from its owner who knows nothing of keeping horses. That shouldn't be too hard for you."

  "I have no need of stealing from someone to make my way. If that is your game, then play it somewhere else. I have no need of it or you."

  Thoroughly rebuffed, they gaped for a moment before the one with the long limbs said,

  "You think you're better than us?"

  "I know I am better than you," Leviana said without turning around. She skipped to one side as a blade flashed at her back. The short man missed his first stab but came around for a slash. With her own blade broken, Leviana had nothing right at hand to defend herself with. She needed to bend down to reach the blade in her boot. The short man slashed at her again and she skipped backward before ducking the attempt to grab her from the other man.

  "Is this truly your game?" she said. "Luring the unsuspecting in to traps?"

  Neither of the men answered, but they kept up their attempts to corral her. Using her saddlebag to block and then swinging it as a bludgeon, she cleared some space around herself to breathe and think. Two opponents were hardly worth a great effort when she was armed. Unarmed, fatigued, and famished she might well find herself in a situation she couldn't handle.

  The willow man's hands lit up with green and blue fire which he attempted to press into Leviana's skin. She whirled away from it and ducked to the side. The two men barely missed one another. With her breath whistling through her teeth, Leviana realized it was simply time to run. Staying here any longer would be folly and she had not lived so long by being a fool.

  "I will find my own way out of this city," she said before taking to her heels.

  They chased her down one street then another but were unable to gain any distance on her. They gave up a few minutes later. She came to a slow stop at the end of the street and found herself facing the square. The cathedral reared up from its center like a behemoth.

  "I need to have a word with the Queen," Leviana said. "If she has me trapped here, I would like to know." She marched up to the cathedral door and knocked.

  No one answered. She waited.

  Several minutes later, the vizier appeared. His face soured as he looked at her.

  "I thought you had left us," he said.

  "I wish to speak with the Queen."

  "She has nothing any longer to say to you. You are welcome to leave."

  "Will she see me or no?" Leviana ignored his tone and pushed past him.

  "Please get out. She will not see you."

  "Why?"

  Standing in the foyer, he looked smaller than he had before. Leviana looked down on him and cocked her head.

  "You don't know why she won't see me. Only that you have been told to refuse visitors."

  The vizier straightened his robes and looked about self-importantly as if her words were beneath his notice. He shoved one hand at her and indicated she should make haste out the door.

  "I will not leave until you give me a satisfactory answer."

  "Leave, Leviana of the Burning Island," came a voice from beyond her. Further down the hall, the shadows had formed into the figure of the city. "You are not held here. Be gone."

  Leviana lifted her chin as she looked at the creature. It leveled its gaze at her. For a long moment, they locked eyes. Finally she looked away. Shoulders drooping, she turned back to the door. As she stepped out onto the stairs, she heard the vizier say,

  "Forgive me, Lord. She would not hear 'no'."

  She stood at the top of the stairs with the door closed behind her. Shaking her hair out, she ran her fingers over her scalp. The mild scraping brought her back to herself. This did nothing for her. She had to get out of the city before it made her as mad as the others there.

  Far Apart

  Warden reached Kerlan a week later with the constitution of a kitten. His flesh hung from his bones and his eyes dropped back in their sockets. Were it not for the fact that he rode a horse, he might well have been unable to move. His body, however, thrummed with suppressed motion until it seemed he would shake apart. Dismounting, he swayed and held hard to the horse's saddle. The stablehand came out to him and held his hand out for the reins.

  "Will you be staying?" he asked. "I can keep your horse ready if you're not."

  Warden looked him up and down and then spit into the dirt at the side of the road. The spittle on his lips was red.

  "I won't be staying. I'm heading into the city," Warden said. "I just need to rest a moment."

  "Then you may make use of the taproom, my wife keeps it clean and ready for any travelers." He tried to lead the horses away but Warden clung to one in hopes of staying upright. When he finally let go, he swayed on the balls of his feet and tried to turn his head in such a way that it didn't hurt. Could a mortal die of pain? He could only wonder and hope it wasn't true. With a stumbling step, he made his way into the building. The two patrons looked up when he entered and then went back to their conversation. Warden swayed over to the bar and sat down. Rubbing his mouth, he waited for the woman behind the bar to come to him.


  "What will it be?" she asked.

  "Water, please."

  "Water all you want."

  "Yes, just water."

  "As you wish." She sauntered away to fill a cup from a barrel at the end of the bar. "You might like the ale better," she said as she returned. "It's wetter."

  "Nothing is wetter than water," he said wiping his mouth on his sleeve. No matter how much he rubbed it he couldn't get the sensation of having just been kissed off his lips. He took the cup and brought it to his lips. "Where are we?"

  "You're on the outskirts of Kerlan in the village of Certan. There's a waystation here for those heading into the city or out into the country."

  He nodded.

  "How far is it to the city? I mean, you can see the walls from here."

  "A few hours ride on a good horse. In a wagon, a bit longer."

  Without responding, he turned to take in the room. The two patrons sitting at their own table looked up at him again but made no attempt to hail him or make conversation. Fine by him. He could use some peace and quiet. He needed to sleep, but his dreams were fitful and full of blood. Better to stay awake with dreams like those. He saw the faces of those he had killed, and he wasn't even sure he had killed them. Perhaps the other soul in his body was responsible for those deaths.

  Coughing, phlegm filled his mouth. He spit on the floor to the dismay of the woman behind the counter. She rushed out with a cloth to wipe it up. Warden didn't even attempt to mumble an apology. Instead he finished his cup of water and left a coin on the table. "I need to talk to your husband about something."

  "My husband's been dead for five years," the woman said. "If you need to talk to him about anything, you'll need a medium."

  Warden shot to his feet, swung like a dancer, and charged out the door. Sure enough, his horses were gone.

  "Damn it."

  That meant he had nothing but what he kept on his person. His weapons and a few coins plus the clothes he was wearing were all he had now. Perhaps it was payback for choosing to leave with both horses. Certainly he could have spared her one. Going back into the building, he stomped over to the bar and sat down.

  "Trader took your horse, I take it?" one of the patrons asked.

  "How did you know?"

  "You wouldn't have gone flying out of here when she said her husband was dead if he hadn't. He uses that trick fair frequent around here. She doesn't tack horses, too much man's work for her. So he just waits around until someone shows up and pretends to be the stablehand. Makes easy money selling those horses back to travelers as they come through."

  "If you know all this, why hasn't anyone stopped him?"

  "What does it matter to us?" the second patron asked. "He's not doing us any harm."

  "He's robbing people."

  "And makes a better living than most of us honest folk." They laughed. "He pays good money when he has it, so him pulling his little stunt comes back to the community. All we can ask for really."

  With his jaw clenched, Warden glowered at the pair. Then he said,

  "Where can I find him to get my horses back?"

  "Walk yourself across town to his stable," the first patron said. "He'll probably still have them if no one's come into town from the other way."

  "I can guarantee he won't just give them back."

  Wearing a grim countenance, Warden took his leave.

  He found the stables not quite all the way across town, but closer to the center. The thief stood boldly out in the street and waved him over.

  "Want to buy your horses back?" he asked with a bright grin.

  "No," Warden said. "You can however give them back to me."

  "Why would I do that?"

  "Because you enjoy living." With an unsteady gesture, Warden pulled out a knife on the man. The thief looked at him without fear.

  "Do you really think you're the first person to threaten me?" He chuckled. "Better than you have tried."

  "No, they haven't."

  Striking quickly, Warden drove the knife into the man's stomach. He screamed. The smell of the blood made Warden's world whirl. With steps far surer than they had been in days, Warden dragged him into the doorway of the stable and then further until they were among the stalls. Meanwhile, the thief screamed and screamed but no one came to his aid. Dropping him, Warden watched as he tried to crawl away, leaving a bloody trail in the dirt floor.

  "I will be taking my horses back," Warden said. He followed the way back to a small room which had a bed, a desk, and a small cooking stove. On the desk sat a pile of coins. He took those and then turned to the tack on the walls. None of it looked familiar, but he didn't need it to be the same tack he had been using. He could adjust it to the horse and he really didn't need two horses. One would be enough.

  Back in the stable proper, the screaming had dropped in pitch until it was little better than loud moaning. Blinking rapidly to keep his head from spinning, Warden picked out a strong looking horse and opened the stall door. The beast started at the blood, whinnying its distress.

  "Easy, easy now." He reached out with his non-bloody hand to caress the creature's nose. "There now." It trembled under his hand but stood still enough for him to consider putting a saddle on it. Going back to the small room, he took a saddle from the floor and brought it into the stall. The horse suffered to be saddled. Then came getting the bit in his mouth and halter on its head. Warden stayed slow as he did both, he really didn't want to get trampled by an out of control horse.

  Once the tack was on, Warden led the horse out into the stable yard. Sparing a glance back at the man lying on the floor, he considered how long he had before someone decided to do something. He got the feeling the man he was leaving for dead was hardly universally liked in the village, but that didn't mean someone wouldn't possibly raise an alarm. He mounted up anyway and the horse trotted out onto the road. He was nearly to Kerlan, a touch richer and shy one horse he didn't need. Perhaps this hadn't been a total waste of time.

  He reached Kerlan in time to get into the city before the gates closed and breathed a sickly sigh of relief. With his horse under him, he considered where he would go. The most prosperous trade city of the plains would have plenty of inns and stables for him to choose from. What he needed however was something to make this sick feeling go away. Having traveled with it for many days, he was tired and out of sorts. The reason for his malady came to him easily. Whatever he was did not wish for him to stray from Leviana and he had done exactly that. For this, he paid a price with his aching head and disturbed guts. Yet the idea of going back for her rarely occurred to him. Whatever they were, he wanted nothing to do with it. Spirits and destiny were not his thing. He dealt in coin and death.

  Finding himself off the main boulevard, he stopped at a house advertising beds under a sign of the warrior-god Ancel, the patron of the Burning Island. Undoubtedly it existed to cater to those traveling from the center of the empire, which meant decent beds, food, and perhaps a little privacy. His newfound wealth would allow him to stay there at least one night. Then he could try to make contact with someone who could help him find caravan work. The market in town would be good for that. He dismounted from his horse and took it to a nearby stable where he was careful to check for the livery of the stable to match the livery the boy wore. A trick turned twice was the fault of the fool. Once he had paid for a night's lodging for the horse, he walked back to the inn with determination not to sway drunkenly through the streets. Sweat popped on his forehead though the weather didn't warrant it.

  At the inn door, he was greeted by the smell of cooking meat and wheat beer, a specialty of the plains cities. Breathing it in, he entered and went directly to the bar.

  "What's the price for a room?"

  "Shared or not?" the lady behind the counter asked. She had her hair pulled back in a braided style more common to those of the higher elevation, but it wasn't out of place with Kerlan standing at the foot of passes into the mountains.

  "Not."

&
nbsp; "Three silvers a night."

  He counted out the money and pushed it across the counter with a shaky hand.

  "You're not sick, are you?" the woman asked as she plucked up the coins. "The nearest sick house is several roads away and we don't want nothing passing among our patronage."

  "No, I'm not sick. Just travel weary. It's been a long few days and it will be good to sleep in a bed."

  "Most comfortable beds in Kerlan," the keeper said. When she came around the counter, she pointed to the stairs. "Right this way."

  Warden followed her up to flights of stairs to hall with three rooms. "I'll put you away from the street, that way you'll rest more comfortably."

  "No, I'd rather have a view of the street. Give me something to watch before I nod off."

  With a shrug, she changed directions and took him into a room with a window and a view of the street.

  "Will this suffice?" she asked.

  "This will do nicely."

  "Supper's being served now if you want to come down and eat. We've been blessed with some prize goat this week."

  "I think I may want some," Warden said. With furtive eyes, he checked the latch on the window while she let herself out. Easy enough to open. Going over, he looked down to see what was below him. Depending on how busy the street was at night he might be able to garner a little more money before he went looking for work. Security for a caravan would get him a long way from Arathum and perhaps even further away from Leviana.

  His stomach lurched as a vision of her clouded his sight. Not just a vision, a memory. It reached inside him and throttled his senses until he fell to his knees before the window. In his chest, his heart pounded. In his mind, a thin cord broke. In his soul, something screamed.

  "Leviana," he gasped trying to blink away the darkness at the edges of his vision. "What's happened?" He lay there awake a moment longer before the blackness swallowed him whole.

  The climb out of the gorge seemed endless and every time she looked back, Leviana felt as if the city clawed its way forward to follow her. Careening back from the walls, its screams disturbed her every thought. Then it was over. She stood at the head of the canyon surveying the all too flat landscape. A bare breeze trailed a touch of smoke giving a whiff of burning. No matter where she went from here, she knew hostility surrounded her.