Heddas Sword.jpg

by Hedda's Sword (lit)

  She bit her lower lip. "Somehow I can't see you in a relationship without sex."

  "Do you think me so shallow, to place my own desires afore your needs?" He shook his head. "I trust you shall learn to think better of me in the days ahead. All I ask is that you let me in a little. Let me be a friend. Have you so many you could not use one more?"

  A male friend. Now there was a contradiction. Maleta stared at him hard, but saw no deception. She read sorrow and sincerity in his gaze, and admiration. She didn't know what to make of him, and turned away to continue walking, to hide her confusion. Cianan strode aside her through the snow, silent and alert, like that hunting owl. Strong and steady. Capable. Deadly when he had to be. He glowed as much with the Light within as the moonlight without, a true enemy of the darkness that dogged her every step. Was he strong enough to break those chains, or was she deluding herself? What if she could never be free? Was she strong enough to find the courage to live within that reality? Or would those visions of death even give her the option?

  She glanced sideways at him. He'd given them all hope. Things could change. If Shamar could change for the better, did she dare to hope for Jovan? For herself? "You're a dangerous friend," she commented. "You make me want to reach for the impossible."

  "Hope is the strongest weapon we have against the dark," he told her. "Its strength lies in the possibilities. Not what is, but what can be. What we can dream, we can make real. Not so impossible."

  They finished their patrol in silence. Sarge came out as the Bear disappeared over the far horizon. He bent over to fill the pot in his hand with snow. "Report."

  "All quiet," Maleta stated.

  "Go pack up. I'll make tea."

  Maleta led the way into the lodge. Gayle tied Maleta's bedding into a compact bundle. "You didn't have to do that," Maleta protested. "But thank you."

  "No trouble," Gayle replied. They ate winter bars while the water heated. Each of them grabbed a cup of the merc root tea. They left the lodge afore the sun rose, moving single-file, silent and swift down the trail.

  Maleta shouldered her pack and kept one eye on their back trail and the other on Jana. Raven had braided the girl's hair like Gayle's, and Maleta watched the two braids swing in tandem. At times Jana seemed so young, dancing in place, twirling in the sun, a child. Other times so old, a child with seer-sight who had seen too much. That she wanted more than anything – children to be children, to play with dolls and mud pies without worrying about dealers and slave markets and parents disappearing.

  Maleta thought about Namula's request, tried to picture Jana blended with Celtar and tied to that tree in the service of Orthia. She stood with Cianan on this. It did not seem a kindness to the girl. But once Namula had been a young girl, as well. Maleta wondered what Namula-the-girl had dreamed of becoming. Surely one didn't wake up one morning and decide, "Today I want to leave this world and become a tree."

  Any more than one woke up one morning and decided to become a sword. Sometimes life chose for you. She shook her head and scowled. Nay. The fact they marched on Soto, to depose Sunniva and free Shamar from years of oppression, said that wasn't how it had to be. There were always choices. One could choose a different path, if one proved strong enough. Brave enough. Why had it taken her so long to figure that out? Why now?

  Because Cianan had come, had shown them all a better way. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. What was in it for him? Her? "I am for you... You are for me." She snorted to herself. She was no bargain.

  They marched until the sun climbed high overhead and stopped to eat a quick cold meal. The wind picked up. They found limited shelter aside a rock cairn, a marker honoring one of the forgotten Old Ones, turning their backs to the wind, protecting Jana from the worst of the swirling snow.

  Sarge crouched down on the ground, drawing another rough map. "Here's us, 'bout four hours outta Soto. Here's Soto, here's th' west gate." He handed his stick to Jana. "Where's th' sewers' exit?"

  She frowned at the map and did a curious thing. She closed her eyes and held her hand over the sketch. Her lips moved in a silent incantation and her fingers dropped to a point north of the gate. "Here." She opened her eyes to look at Sarge. "There's a hole in the rocks here. It comes out on a side street here." She pointed to a spot within the square that represented Soto, not far from the west gate itself. "Or you can follow it due north to the palace itself."

  "Can we use th' sewers t' get in?" Dagonet asked.

  Sister Reva nodded. "Aye, an' t' get Sunniva's prisoners out."

  Cianan agreed. "With all the commotion of the fighting above ground, the sisters should be able to get them out, and they can protect them in case any of Sunniva's cronies have a similar escape plan."

  Raven's eyes narrowed. "Jana and Dagonet come with us, to reassure them we're here to help."

  "Let's go," Sarge said, standing up. "Be dark in four hours. We can enter th' sewers under cover o' darkness."

  The march resumed. Anticipation tingled along Maleta's nerves. A sense of excitement and dread she'd have to channel or risk tiring herself out afore they even reached the city. Every step brought her closer to Jovan. Soon he'd be free, free of Sunniva, free to go home. She wondered what he looked like, this long-lost brother of hers. Would she even recognize him? Would he look like their mother, tall and willowy, or their father, big and blond with red in his beard? The thought of her scrawny twelve-year-old brother with a beard made her smile. Would he even recognize her ?

  Her steps faltered. She stopped smiling.

  Cianan reached out to squeeze her hand. He caught her eye and nodded. "These are his last days as a captive, this I swear to you, vertenya. Tell me about him, this brother of yours."

  Maleta hesitated. Where to begin? "He's younger by four years. He loves music and philosophy, hates history and mathematics. He was afraid of bees and horses. He used to run away from our weapons master and hide in the music room. He was particular about his appearance and paranoid about his hands."

  "What about you?"

  "Once upon a time, you mean?" She frowned in thought, trying to remember the time afore. "I used to love to stand on the parapet and watch my father ride off, and come back home. He had a big roan stallion I snuck apples to. I broke my right arm trying to ride him when I was seven. It still aches on cold, damp days."

  Cianan winced.

  "I climbed up into the trees in the orchard to read. I tramped through the woods, finding mushrooms and picking berries. I sat at the window watching thunderstorms roll in. I loved watching my mother brush her hair afore the fire. I hated brushing my own." She smiled. "My father used to bring my mother flowers. She loved orange cerias the best of all."

  "They must have loved each other very much."

  Her eyes burned. "They did."

  "How did you get along with your brother?"

  "I didn't. We bickered all the time." Her lips thinned. "Children never appreciate things until it's too late."

  "True, but it is not too late. You two shall have a lot of catching up to do."

  Maleta sighed. What would it be like, to go home? To stand once more on the parapets? Would she remember her father coming over the hill, or Sunniva's soldiers? Would she ever be able to stand the smell of apples? To walk through the orchard without seeing the blood?

  "Homes are filled with good memories too," Cianan told her. "They help balance out the bad."

  Thoughtful hours passed. Daylight faded. Lights appeared ahead in the deepening twilight – the lights of a city. Soto. They'd arrived at last.

  It was too late to turn back now.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Maleta grimaced as Sarge and Dagonet hauled the grate aside to open the sewer. The smell was beyond foul. There were no words. "They don't have to see us coming – they'll be able to smell us at a hundred paces."

  "It's dry if ye stay in th' middle," Sarge replied. "There're gutters on either side channel th' worst of it." He turned to Cianan. "Sewer gases make flames
dangerous. We can't carry candles or torches."

  Maleta saw Raven and Sister Reva also stare at Cianan.

  He nodded. "I can make the path visible."

  They'd also be visible, but Maleta doubted anyone would be standing guard down there.

  "How hard's it going to be for our people to get out?" Jana asked. The girl danced in place with barely leashed anxiety. Maleta felt her vibrating.

  "There are steps, not ladders," Sister Reva assured the girl. "If we have to, we'll carry every last one of them out, I promise ye. No one gets left behind." She went down first.

  Cianan's sword lit the way, enough for them all to see by. Jana indicated the location of the grate inside the west gate. They took turns rotating up to the top of the stairs for a breath of fresh air.

  Gayle glared as Sarge. "We deserve double hazard pay for this."

  Dagonet nodded. "I'll speak t' Tzigana. If we succeed, ye can prob'ly name yer price." His face was grim. He was too hardened a veteran to squirm like Jana, yet every muscle clenched with restraint. Maleta could see it, so close were they to their ultimate goal.

  Maleta empathized with that sentiment. Somewhere, above and forward, Jovan waited. Knowing it to be his last day of captivity almost proved worse than discovering him alive and a captive in the first place. She wanted him now .

  "I'm going t' bathe for three days straight," Gayle muttered.

  Maleta grinned, then sobered. "How long do we wait?"

  Cianan tested the grate, loosening it enough to move when the time came.

  "Gayle an' me go first," Sarge decreed. "Whoever's on patrol is familiar with th' guild. They won't expect an attack from us. Once we take out th' first patrol, we'll let th' rest of ye out. We hide in th' back ways till th' rest get here. Then we take an' hold th' west gate. Once they're through, it's back down th' hole t' th' palace." He turned to Jana. "Do ye remember th' way back t' th' kitchens?"

  "Easy." She nodded.

  He turned to Cianan. "An' th' dungeons?"

  "Only from the corridor."

  "Can you feel them if you get close?" Sister Reva asked.

  "Aye."

  "Jana should be able t' lead ye straight through the tunnels t' the dungeons. Hedda's Servants'll follow with Dagonet an' get them out," she decreed. "The ruckus of the main force topside should distract the palace guards."

  Maleta caught Cianan staring at her. "You help get Jana's people out. They'll need your sword to light the way. They can't use flames in the sewers. Tzigana's coming for Sunniva. I can use the confusion to look for Jovan. I'm pretty sure he'll be low on the list of priorities."

  He shook his head. "I stay with you."

  "Nay." Maleta fisted her hands on her hips. "One person or many? We need you to help find the prisoners. They've been here long enough." She smiled. "No one will even notice me."

  The horror of the vision lurked in his eyes. She didn't care. The thought of the children trapped under the palace, starving to death, made his concerns for her a distant second. She had to find Jovan and had a better chance of searching and not getting caught if she searched alone. She shoved the image of herself falling under the skeletons' blades to the back of her mind where it would have plenty of company with the rest of the nightmares. She'd lived with so many for so long, what was one more?

  The first patrol marched by. Cianan moved the grate to stick his head out above ground.

  "How many lines on th' candle?" Sarge asked.

  "Nine," Cianan reported. He came back down.

  "Next patrol should be in another mark," Gayle said. "This is disgusting, Sarge. I'd rather wait topside, in the shadows. We can spread out."

  Sarge considered it, nodded agreement. "One at a time."

  Cianan being closest, he went first, followed by Gayle. Maleta stayed by Jana. After the rest of the fighters had secured the area, she allowed the girl to go out. It was safer below the street, but Maleta didn't have the heart to keep the girl there. As soon as Jana exited, Dagonet and Raven pulled her into the shadows across the street. Maleta joined Cianan behind the street lamp.

  Fresh air had never smelled so good. The next night watch patrol came by right on schedule. One man wrinkled his nose. "Pgah! Th' sewers're goin' from bad t' worse."

  His partner scoffed. "Be glad we're here. Sunniva's sewers make Soto th' most advanced city in Shamar. I hear even in Marcou they toss chamber pot contents right out th' windows into th' streets."

  "We're lucky t' have her. She's a true visionary."

  They continued on their route. Sister Reva caught Maleta's eye from across the way. Maleta watched her jerk her head toward the eastbound street. Unexpected boot steps approached. Sarge rose in his position, drawing his sword. Cianan strung his bow. Gayle broke into a sudden grin and motioned everyone to put their weapons away as Cary and several guild members who hadn't gone to Nerthus' Abbey appeared through the gloom. Sarge stepped into the light to intercept them.

  Cary clasped Sarge's forearm. "Few less dealers t' worry about," he reported. "Ev'ry man here dispatched his current contract an' came here." He eyed Sister Reva and Maleta. "We answered Hedda's call."

  Sister Reva nodded. "She shall remember."

  They slipped back into the shadows again, their number doubled. The long wait felt interminable, but eventually there remained but one mark on the candle. When the boot steps of the patrol approached, Sarge nodded to Cary and Gayle. They staggered out into the light with boisterous laughter as if in drunken revelry.

  "An' then she said – " Gayle gasped.

  "What's this?" the watchman with the rust-colored beard demanded. "Ye're not s'posed t' be out here."

  "Oh, relax," Gayle drawled, raking a nail down Cary's chest. "We were jus' havin' a bit of fun."

  "I'm thinkin' ye could be havin' a bit of fun with us," the watchman said.

  Gayle stumbled into him. "I couldn't agree more," she said, driving a knife into his chest. As Cary took out the other watchman, she watched the first one fall at her feet. "Pig!" she spat, kicking him in the ribs.

  They dragged the bodies into the shadows.

  They formed up. Raven and Dagonet kept Jana where she was. Sarge led the rest of them toward the gate. Half a dozen watchmen sat around the polling table, passing a dice cup around a pile of coins.

  Maleta inspected the surroundings. Wide open and well-lit. Their approach would be seen. Cianan was the only one with a bow. "How fast are you?" she whispered to him.

  "Not fast enough for silence, even with double shots," he whispered back, notching two arrows on the string. "It only takes one to raise the alarm."

  Maleta eyed his hands, impressed. Two at once? She didn't know anyone who could do that with any reasonable certainty of being accurate. She'd seen it work firing into a crowd, but not with specific targets in mind, let alone killing shots.

  He let loose, striking the two guards facing them betwixt helmet and breastplate and bringing them down. Sarge already led the charge as Cianan loosed two more arrows. One of the last two watchmen managed to reach the alarm bell. He got in three tolls afore Sister Reva stopped him.

  Shouts and many boot steps sounded in the distance. "Here we go," Cary called.

  The guild gripped their shields and drew their swords. Maleta, Sister Reva and Cianan also drew swords. They were rushed by a mob of night watchmen, armed with axes, maces and swords. A blond giant of a man plowed betwixt Sarge and Cary right through to Maleta. When he approached close enough for her to see his green eyes in the torchlight, he raised his axe. Hedda's breastplate didn't seem to faze him. Maleta blocked the strike, but his strength forced her to her knees.

  "Where a woman belongs," he sneered.

  She swung for his belly. He jumped back and aimed for her neck. She dropped to the ground, beneath his blow, rolled free and leapt to her feet. "I'm no woman," she retorted. "I'm Hedda's Own, and She can't wait to meet you."

  "Your Goddess is as dead as you're about to be."

  Hedda's Sword weighed heav
ily, not meant for one hand, but Maleta managed long enough to draw a long knife and bury it in his groin, slicing deep to cut the big vein in his leg. She sheathed the knife, regripped Hedda's Sword as She meant It to be carried, two-handed, and watched the shock fade from his eyes as he paled and fell.

  Two more watchmen replaced him. The battle was pitched and desperate. Outnumbered three to one, they were pressed on all sides. Time slowed to a crawl, marked by the clash of weapons and the occasional scream or curse as blade cut flesh.

  Maleta found herself back-to-back with Cianan. The fleeting thought of his promise, "so long as you fight for the Light, I shall fight with you, at your back and by your side," flashed through her mind. Burning sweat trickled into her eyes. When she wiped it away, her hand came away bloody. Praise Hedda, not her own.

  A light flashed high in the sky – a flaming arrow from the other side of the wall. Maleta wanted to cheer. She had no breath to spare. Mother Kitta and the rest of the Shamaru-Shamari force had arrived. Cianan had no time to reply. They had to secure the gate first. She launched herself at her opponent with renewed energy, beheading him. The night watch was good, but the guild proved themselves better. Even as their numbers dwindled, the guild soon enough had even odds. One by one, the watchmen fell. Eventually, there were none left to replace them. Whoever commanded them from afar probably fell back to defend the palace.

  The west gate was theirs. Sarge had delivered on his promise. Maleta and Gayle threw open the gate as Cianan launched a burning arrow of his own into the night sky. Maleta watched the guild captain lead their army toward Soto, but Cianan tugged at her sleeve.

  "Cary will greet them," he said. "It is out of our hands now. We go back to the tunnels."

  Maleta grimaced but nodded. Gayle looked grim. With Sister Reva and Sarge, they ran back to where Dagonet and Raven waited with Jana. Sarge dragged the grill aside, and down into the dark and stench they returned. Cianan closed the cover behind them and called the Light back to his sword. He led the way with Jana a half-step behind him.