From Darkness Won

by Jill Williamson

  Arman! She had forgotten her Creator.

  Forgive me, Arman. I am lost, separated from my body, and, I fear, my memories. Is this man and his bird the only way back? Why can Master Cham not hear my words? What should I do? Help me, please.

  A musical scream came from outside. “Kee-eeeee-arr.” The majestic sound lasted several seconds. Averella turned to see a great speckled hawk light on the windowsill. It screamed again. “Kee-eeeee-arr.”

  Heat filled Averella from the inside. She could not keep from smiling.

  The old man lifted a gnarled hand. “No, my lady! Do not trust it.”

  But Averella already trusted it with all her heart. She threw her arms around the hawk’s neck, and it took off out the window and into the dark land.

  Either the hawk flew faster or Averella was too filled with joy to notice the passing time. For moments later the hawk soared through the roof of a round pavilion, setting Averella’s transparent feet onto a woven straw mat.

  With one last, “Kee-eeeee-arr,” the hawk flew away, leaving Averella inside the warm tent.

  15

  Achan lay on the bed in his tent. He’d been awake for hours, burrowing under his blankets like a mole, not wanting to get up yet. Today would hold much that he would rather not live through. A battle? A negotiation? Peace? Death?

  He doubted peace would be the conclusion.

  Sparrow would have said something sarcastic. She was able to make light of the heaviest circumstance. He hated the hole she’d left in his life. He wanted to bloodvoice her again, to spend the day searching, but the idea of failing… It was too much. Still, like a man who couldn’t stop drinking, Achan reached for her, clutching the cord around his neck.

  Sparrow? Please answer me.

  Why do you call me Sparrow, Master Cham? Do I look like a bird to you?

  Achan sat up so quickly he started to choke. Sparrow!

  You can hear me now, Master Cham?

  Aye. Where are you? Describe your surroundings.

  I am in a tent. A hawk left me here moments ago.

  A hawk? Describe this tent. Do you see Esek?

  Who is this Esek everyone speaks of? And why have you ignored me these past days? I heard your calls and answered, but you never seem to hear me. How can this be?

  You closed your mind. You forgot how to bloodvoice.

  Me bloodvoice? I have no such skill. I only wish to go—

  You can bloodvoice, you’ve only forgotten. Part of bloodvoicing is placing shields around your mind. You likely did this to protect yourself. That’s good, but when you hear the voice of someone you want to speak to, you must lower your shields so that person can hear you.

  She sighed as if he were the most exasperating man in all Er’Rets. Can you tell me how to get back into my body?

  Aye. Are you with your body now? Can you see it?

  No. The black bird took me from it. Then the brown bird brought me here.

  Achan paused, frustrated, yet desperate to control his temper so he would not frighten Sparrow away. Tell me about this tent. Are there any people in it?

  Yes. There are two men.

  What do they look like?

  One looks to be a guardsman, asleep in a chair by the entrance. Drooling too, I believe, which is rather disturbing for a guardsman. The other man is shirtless, sitting up in a bed, looking around with the most puzzled expression.

  Achan jumped off the bed. What is he doing now?

  Oh, he just stood up. Praise Arman he is wearing pants.

  Indeed. “Sparrow, you’re here!” Achan said aloud. “You’re with me right now!”

  Sparrow gasped. You are Master Cham?

  You don’t recognize me?

  Should I?

  Aye, you should. Achan wheeled around and grabbed his Shield’s shoulder. “Shung! Wake up, man. Sparrow is here!”

  Shung moaned and glanced around the tent. “The little vixen has returned?”

  “Yes! Yes! In this very tent.”

  He squinted past Achan. “Shung sees no woman.”

  “She’s in the Veil. Watch my body. I’m going after her.”

  “Aye, Shung will watch.”

  “Good.” Sparrow, I’m coming. Stay where you are. Uh… where are you?

  I am by the center pole, over the straw mat.

  Achan stared into the empty air surrounding the pole and exhaled. Amazing. He fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes. Concentrating, he sat up, this time leaving his body where it lay. He looked directly toward the center pole.

  Sparrow hovered above the mat like a ghost. Almost before he thought to move, Achan was at her side.

  She shrieked. How can you move so quickly?

  You just have to concentrate.

  Why call me Sparrow, Master Cham? Is that a code?

  It’s your surname, silly girl. Vrell Sparrow.

  Sparrow’s eyebrows puckered. Are we friends? For only my sisters and close friends call me Vrell.

  You have sisters?

  Four.

  Really. Sparrow once told him she had no one in all Er’Rets. Since then he’d learned she had a mother and now four sisters. Where do they live?

  Sparrow pursed her lips. If we are such close friends, you and I, how is it that you do not know I have sisters? Or where they live? Why should I trust you, Master Cham? You could be a scoundrel.

  He laughed at her formality. I am not a scoundrel.

  She lifted her chin so that her nose tilted upward. So you say. But how am I to know that for certain?

  He grinned, struck again by her regal behavior. Always the odd duck, Sparrow was. You just have to trust me.

  Little Cham. Shung’s voice roared in his head.

  Achan spun around. Sir Eagan, Sir Caleb, and Matthias stood inside the doorway to his tent.

  “Tell the prince to come back,” Sir Caleb said.

  Sir Caleb says come back, Shung said.

  I heard him. Achan turned back to Sparrow. She had drifted to the wall of the tent. Her eyes were wide like a deer when it hears a branch snap in the forest.

  Sparrow, what’s wrong?

  You are the prince? Prince Gidon? You look different.

  I’m not Esek, Sparrow, blazes. Let me explain what—

  Your Highness, please, Sir Caleb said. New Kingsguard soldiers approach carrying a white flag.

  Sir Caleb’s words captured Achan’s full attention. They surrender?

  Doubtful, Your Highness. They wish to parley, more likely. We must ride out to hear their terms.

  Terms? He looked back to Sparrow. Promise you won’t leave, Sparrow? I can help you get back to your body. Say you’ll wait.

  She gave a sharp nod of her head.

  Nothing Achan felt confident about, but what else could he do? I’ll return shortly. Much has happened that you have forgotten. I’ d like the opportunity to explain. Will you wait?

  Yes.

  Thank you. He bowed to her, a formal act for Sparrow, but it felt right somehow. Achan blinked and found himself back in his body. He sat up and stared at the place he last saw her. Sir Caleb gripped his arm to help him stand. Achan continued to stare into the empty space at the wall of his tent. Please keep your word, Sparrow, he bloodvoiced.

  She did not answer.

  Sir Caleb and Matthias began dressing Achan in layers of padding and armor. Achan could hardly speak he was so overcome with having found Sparrow and not being able to help her. He had to force himself to spare a thought for the coming meeting.

  Too soon he found himself atop Dove, riding out of camp, flanked by guardsmen carrying torches through the gloom. A hundred horsemen at his back were armed with bows.

  They crested a small hill, and hundreds of torchlights came into view. Five horsemen stood abreast in the middle of a field. The men on each end held a torch. Far behind them, a wall of soldiers stood like a parapet, their torches reflecting off shiny black armor. Black knights. Many of which appeared to hold bows, arrows knocked.

  Ach
an gripped Dove’s reins and straightened, coming back to his calling. Be with us, Arman. Give me Your strength. Your words.

  Terms. He didn’t even know who approached. The Hadad? Lord Nathak. Or perhaps Lord Falkson of Barth?

  As they narrowed the distance between them, Achan soon had his answer. Sir Kenton Garesh’s curtain of black hair was like no other, a sharp contrast to the white flag he held in one hand. And Esek Nathak, unless he was a ghost, sat alive and well on a black steed, both arms intact.

  How could that be?

  A chill rolled down Achan’s spine. He found it difficult to look anywhere but at Esek’s arms. He had cut one off, hadn’t he? The right arm. He had relived the moment again and again in his nightmares.

  Your Highness? Sir Caleb spoke to his mind. Keep your wits about you.

  But his arm.

  Is likely a wooden one.

  Achan’s posture relaxed. Of course. Esek would want to appear whole to his followers.

  “Heir of Axel Hadar, we meet again as equals.”

  Achan stiffened. Esek’s voice was the same, yet different. A thick undertone drew out every word a breath longer than need be. Dove shifted beneath Achan, swished his tail. Achan stroked the horse’s neck. I know boy, I feel it too.

  Esek spoke again. “You have nothing to say?”

  Sir Kenton and Esek wore marks on their foreheads. Three bars like those on the foreheads of the Eben giants who had attacked Achan outside Mirrorstone months ago.

  “I say we are anything but equals, Esek,” Achan said, his words bolder than his courage. “When I left you last, you were not even whole. Now you bear the mark of madmen and carry a white flag. You surrender so soon?”

  Esek lifted both hands, stretched them out toward Achan.

  Sir Gavin drew his sword. “None of that, now.”

  Esek chuckled. “I wield no magic in these hands, Sir Gavin. I am not a black knight.” He wiggled his fingers. “I merely wish to show your prince that I am indeed whole.”

  Achan did not understand. “How?”

  “One does not share secrets with the enemy, Your Highness.”

  Why does he show me respect? Achan asked Sir Gavin. What’s his game?

  I know not, Your Highness. Remain on guard.

  “Your man carries the white flag, Esek. What do you want?” Achan asked.

  Sir Caleb glared in Achan’s direction. Apparently this was not the proper way to negotiate terms. Well, hang the proper way. Achan wanted to get back to Sparrow. Her face came to his mind now, lifting his mood considerably.

  “Why, I want peace, of course,” Esek said.

  Achan huffed. “You want peace?”

  “Who wants to rule a warring nation? Too much work.”

  “You still plan to rule?” Achan’s voice came out flat.

  “Of course.”

  “And how do you plan to do that peaceably?”

  “By giving you what you want. Have Lady Averella and her inheritance. Rule Carmine—rule all of Carm, if you wish. Call yourself a king. I no longer care. But leave Armonguard and the south to me.”

  Achan shook his head. “You think that’s what I want?”

  “What is it you want, then?”

  “I want a cottage in the woods. Vrell Sparrow as my wife. No throne under my control. Perhaps some goats.”

  Esek shifted on his horse. “Then you surrender?”

  Achan’s dry laugh sounded loud in the surrounding silence. “Aye, that I did, but not to you. Arman is my master now. And He wants me to rule all Er’Rets. Not just Carm. So, I thank you for your… gift, was it? But I do not accept. We ride for Armonguard. Prince Oren holds the castle for us. If you stand in our way, you will become part of the road.”

  Esek snorted. “Prince Oren may reside within Castle Armonguard, but he does not hold anything. We will take the fortress before you ever have a chance to see its splendor.”

  “Permission to speak, Your Majesty,” Sir Gavin said.

  “Granted,” Achan and Esek said together.

  Esek chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.

  Sir Gavin’s horse walked forward a few steps. “Esek Nathak, do not be a fool. I counseled you on the subject of dark magic. I sense you’ve already aligned yourself with its power. There is still time to rebuke it. I can help you.”

  “Why would I do that?” Esek said. “My master gave me a new arm, Sir Gavin. He is one hundred times more powerful than this One God you serve. If you and your princeling insist on war, then you will have it, and you will lose. For my master communes with all the gods of Er’Rets.”

  “There is no other God but Arman,” Sir Gavin said. “Your gods are a trick of Gâzar. Serving them will bring you nothing but death.”

  “This meeting has been a waste of time.” Esek straightened in his saddle. “Reconsider my offer before you reach Mahanaim, for you and your followers will not pass through the city alive.” Esek reined his horse around, and the horse took off at a gallop.

  Three of Esek’s men followed, leaving only Sir Kenton, Esek’s Shield, behind. “You would be wise to reconsider, Gavin,” Sir Kenton said. “Never have I seen such power.”

  “You speak of the Hadad,” Sir Gavin said.

  “Aye. The Hadad will rule this nation.”

  Sir Gavin answered, his voice soft but forceful. “For years I wondered if your master was truly Lord Nathak, but now I see the truth. Killing King Axel and Queen Dara was the Hadad’s plan. You both serve the same master.”

  “As will you, if you live through the next few days.”

  “Do not be a fool, Kenton,” Sir Eagan said. “We taught you better than this.”

  Sir Kenton tossed the white flag to the ground and turned his horse. “No one taught me better than the Hadad. We shall see who is stronger.” He rode away.

  Achan sat on Dove, watching the horses merge with the Darkness.

  “It’s war then.” Sir Gavin sighed. “Figured as much.”

  A chill coursed over Achan’s arms. “War.”

  “Sparrow?” Achan entered his room and pulled off his helm. Sir Caleb, Shung, and Sir Eagan followed him inside.

  Sir Caleb took Achan’s helm from his hands. “Your Highness, we must go to the meeting tent. Gavin is gathering the generals to share Esek’s demands.”

  “I must do something first.” Achan turned to the men. “Sparrow is here. In this tent.”

  Sir Eagan’s gaze roamed the tent. “Why did you not say something?”

  “Sir Caleb said we had to leave for the—”

  “Esek could have waited,” Sir Eagan said.

  “Really, Eagan?” Sir Caleb said. “Vrell and her problems are more important than all of Er’Rets?”

  “We trained to the same code, Caleb. Always rescue the lady first.” Sir Eagan fumbled at the points of Achan’s breastplate and quickly pulled it free.

  “Yes, but Vrell is always in some sort of mischief.” Sir Caleb took the breastplate and set it on the armoire. “Why is she our responsibility?”

  “Because I love her,” Achan said.

  “You love her.” Sir Caleb threw up his hands. “Well that’s just fine. What will Duchess Amal say to that?”

  Sir Eagan shoved Achan’s backplate into Sir Caleb’s arms. “Sit, sit, Your Highness. You must bring her back right away.”

  Achan sat onto the end of his bed.

  Shung sat beside him. “Shung will be watching.”

  Achan nodded. Feet on the floor, he fell onto his back and entered the Veil. Sparrow? He did not see her. He sought her mind and found it blocked.

  No! Why had she left? Arman, why?

  He sent a knock the proper way, but when she did not respond, he barged ahead with his message, knowing now that she could hear him. Sparrow, you’ve raised the shields around your mind again. I can’t help you this way. Let me in.

  He opened his eyes and stared at the brown ceiling of the tent. Why did you leave? You said you would wait.

  “Found her?” Sh
ung asked.

  “She’s gone.” Achan held his hands in front of his face. They were trembling. He sat up and looked from Sir Eagan, who sat on the end of his bed, to Sir Caleb, who stood by the armoire. “What can I do? Is there nothing I can do?”

  “Can you guess where she went?” Sir Eagan asked.

  “No. She doesn’t know me. I frighten her. She thinks I’m Esek or something.”

  “Esek?” Sir Caleb asked. “Why?”

  “You think I know? The whole thing is maddening!”

  Sir Eagan’s calm voice urged him along. “Keep messaging her. Do not give up.”

  “What’s the point? Even if I can reach her, how can I convince her of the truth? She doesn’t remember me.”

  Sir Eagan gripped Achan’s shoulder. Warmth and calm flooded through the connection. “When someone has forgotten, it helps to bring them to a familiar place. Familiar scents and sounds can also kindle memories.”

  “I thought I would be familiar.”

  “Pray harder. Ask Arman to help you,” Sir Eagan said.

  Of course. Why did Achan always forget to pray first? He slid off the bed to his knees, which were still draped in layers of chain and leather armor. He put his hands on the straw mat and lowered himself to his stomach. Arman? Please, show me where Sparrow is. Take me to her. Let her remember. Give me the words to convince her to return. Show me where—

  A breeze stroked Achan’s back. Talons scratched his shoulder blades. His body lifted off the floor. His mind, actually, for his body lay still as a dead man on the straw mat. Shung sat on Achan’s bed. Sir Eagan and Sir Caleb stood together in the doorway. None seemed to see Achan rising through the tent, legs flailing.

  He twisted around and saw a great speckled brown bird holding him, gripping the back of his surcoat with its claws. A brown wing flapped across his view. When it lifted for another stroke, the bird had carried him through the roof and into the black sky.

  Achan wanted to scream. He should at least message Shung and inform his Shield that a bird of prey had taken his soul. But a great calm washed away every concern.