Intimations of Evil (Warriors of Vhast Book 1)

by Cary J Lenehan

  She was in the private women’s section of the palace as all the women that she could see had bare heads and uncovered faces. Ayesha reached up and dropped her veil and pushed back her headscarf. She was led onto a veranda looking out over the city of Dimashq. It had a filigreed wall so that the women could look out and the breezes could come in, but no one on the outside could see in. On the veranda were two low couches covered in silk and on one of these was a woman who must be the princess.

  The tales told of her did no justice. She was easily the most beautiful woman that Ayesha had ever seen. She had very pale blonde hair, almost white, and eyes of brightly burnished bronze. In the shade of the veranda they seemed to glow as if they were made of molten metal. Ayesha salaamed and the princess motioned her to sit on the other couch. She clapped her hands and a servant appeared bearing kaf and two cups, while another servant bearing two trays covered in rakis lacoum and baklava, each one with a finger bowl, followed her. In turn a faint increase in the general aroma of roses and oranges followed in her wake.

  Three other servants followed with small tables of wood. Each of these had designs inlaid in them done with metal, ivory and semi-precious stones. Two tables were placed in front of the princess and Ayesha and the third put between them where either could reach. They were served and the servants inclined their heads and left without a word. Ayesha waited. The princess was looking at her as most people would look at a horse before buying it, measuring it to see if it was capable of the tasks that you needed it for. This made Ayesha nervous. The princess kept on looking at her as she took a cup of kaf and sipped from it.

  “Eat and drink, these are not here for decoration. You are here as my guest,” said the princess, finally, in a musical voice. Ayesha took a cube of the lacoum, its pink jelly coated in fine sugar and starch dust and smelling of roses. She took a nibble. It was delicious. As expected, the cooks of the Caliph were so much better than those of her father. Next she sipped some kaf. There was the faint scent of cardamom and a hint of a peach aftertaste. It was far finer than even she was used to.

  The princess spoke again, “How was your training?” she asked.

  “Hard, O Illustrious One, but nothing that I could not learn. I was the best at many of my classes. My instructors found it hard as well but, like me, they learnt.” There was more than a trace of satisfaction in her voice.

  “How have your family taken your choice?”

  “They are torn, Most Illustrious. My mother and grandmother would like to see me with a husband, even as a third wife as I was previously destined, and raising children. They worry that I might never find a man to marry me now or that I might die or never have children. I point out that it will occur as Allah wills, even if I were to marry. My brothers are all dead and my father does not know whether to be ashamed that I have rejected tradition by being allowed to choose as I have and rejecting a woman’s role, or proud that he has raised a Holy Warrior. I think that perhaps pride is winning. He has no sons to take over from him as Sheik of Yãqũsa and his brother, my uncle, will succeed him. Like my sisters I would have just been a minor wife for someone. Instead I have managed to break away from that and now I think that he is starting to see me instead as the inheritor of his legacy although I am but a woman.”

  “And yourself?”

  Eyes downcast and voice demure Ayesha replied, “Before Allah the Wise, I am very humbled and thankful for this chance. I am happy and eager to perform my work and to do whatever the Caliph, the Voice of Allah on this world, requires of me.”

  “I am very glad to hear that.” The princess paused and changed her tone to a less conversational one. “I cannot say how, but it has come to my attention that my beloved cousin Theodora has left her home in Ardlark. I believe she will leave for the west to seek adventure. If she comes in this direction then I can look after her, but if she goes elsewhere, then I cannot. The Granther, whom you call Hrothnog, may decide to accept her leaving or he may decide that she can tell Darkreach’s enemies too much and decide to eliminate her.

  “I asked for your services, and the Caliph has graciously consented. I want you to find her and protect her from any harm, including from our joint ancestor, if need be.”

  Ayesha shuddered inside at the idea that she could be set in a personal battle against the infidel mage-king. Her training did not allow this to show. She had been taught to think of him as the immortal servant of the Seytanyi, and yet his grandchild sat before her and had accepted Allah, praise to his Name.

  “I think she will most likely leave Darkreach through the Gap and go to Evilhalt. You will go there as fast as I can get you there. I have decided that you should pose as an escaped slave and become her close servant. I think that she will accept a woman without question more easily than she will accept a man. This is a very dangerous course. You can tell no one you meet of your real nature and you will be in constant danger.” The princess sounded pleased with herself and her scheme.

  Of course she was pleased, thought Ayesha, she wouldn’t be the one in peril.

  “If any of our people hear of your cover tale they will, of course, most likely attempt to capture or kill you. However, I think that it is also the best way to gain Theodora’s trust. She will not be looking for an escaped servant, a slave, to be a guard set after her.” The princess paused. “If she does not reach Evilhalt within a month of you leaving here you are to return through Kharlsbane and the Darkreach Gap, seeking information of her and her fate.” She paused again. “Are you willing to do this?”

  “If it is the Caliph’s will, the choice of the Voice of Allah on this world, then it is my will,” said Ayesha immediately. In her mind she was already thinking through what would come next and how she should adapt to such a role. She was skilled at disguise and trained as a medic and an alchemist dealing with killing and curing potions. The work with disguise should suit her for work as a lady’s servant as she knew well how to skilfully use makeup to effect. As well as what she had learnt at home, she had also been coached even further as an entertainer. Now she could sing, dance, tumble, juggle and tell stories as if she were a professional. It had always been thought that this is where she could best serve, concealed under a possible target’s eyes as a tavern slave, so that this part of the deception would be natural to her.

  “Good,” the princess said, in a settled tone. “Here are some instructions from the Caliph to give to the armoury,” she handed over a note to Ayesha. “Now then, let us enjoy this food and kaf and talk more of your training before you return home. Enjoy what little I can give in thanks to you. You must say farewell to your family, as you may never return. Tell your father that, if you do return and you choose to leave your service and marry and the man you want cannot raise a suitable mahr, then I will pay it, whatever it may be. Tell your mother and grandmother that they can make any arrangements they wish and I will support them and remember that, should you so choose, the Caliph has another son as yet unwed. He is young and could do with a strong wife and there are no suitable obvious ones. He is a lot younger than you but…” and she shrugged.

  It sounded like Ayesha could be away for some time. The two spent the rest of the afternoon talking and eating.

  ~~~

  For a short time, under the prompting of the princess, Ayesha became a young girl, something she had given up to enter her training. Her fingers were often sticky with the little rosettes of baklava, sweetened with imported sugar rather than the honey of the common people. She ate the rakis lacoum, flavoured with roses and oranges and discovered that the princess had encountered many of the same things she had; trapped within a traditional upbringing, not able to follow what she wanted until a chance had opened up and she had seized it. Ayesha kept it to herself, but she was saddened that, while she had been able to gain a vocation, the princess had only been able to escape her fate through marriage, even if it was one she welcomed. Ayesha was glad that at least the princess had used her background to bring change to her adopted land. F
eeling full of sugar energy, she was eventually left to prepare. Ayesha had until the next eve to select what she would take and to say farewell. She was lucky that her parents were currently in Dimashq, so at least she was able to see them to bid farewell.

  Once she had left the princess, Ayesha took her note straight to the armoury before going home. At the armoury she was deferred to in a manner she was not accustomed to. Her training naturally made her proficient with the weapons of stealth, so she selected an array of throwing knives, which she could also juggle, and several daggers, all different in shape and purpose. All of these had worn sheaths and were not new themselves, none were too good a quality, but all were enhanced for additional damage. Knives were an assassin’s weapon, but they were also those of a servant and they were the type of thing that a servant might steal before running away.

  She hoped that none would see the special blades that she had selected to go into the bottom of her pack until she needed them. She also selected a plain horse mace, its grip rough and not likely to slip within her hand, a recurve bow in a belt case and a belt quiver of fifty shafts. If she were fighting openly in more than self-defence, she would most likely be on a horse—the getting of which would have to wait until she arrived at her destination. She added two thumb rings and a few spare strings. None of these were magic but all were of competent workmanship. It was hard to turn down some of the items she was shown, but they would not fit with her story. For the same reason she took no armour.

  ~~~

  Going back to her parent’s house in Dimashq, she sought a meeting and told them that she was going away on a secret and important mission under the orders of the Caliph. Naturally they asked no questions, but she could see that pride had definitely won out in her father. The old man’s beard could not conceal his smile. She also conveyed the princess’ instructions about her marriage prospects. Her parents both reacted badly to the idea that a Sheik’s daughter might need help in finding a marriage, until she mentioned the Caliph’s as yet unwed youngest son. Her mother had not been thinking of anywhere near that good a connection and her eyes widened. She took her leave as her parents began an animated conversation as if she had already returned home as a victorious hero and decided to forsake her career. She did not disabuse them that she had no plans in this direction at all, but simply left them to their happy musing to go and pack. They scarce even noticed her leave.

  Packing was easy. She was an escaped slave travelling on foot. Just a worn set of travelling clothes to wear, a warm over-robe and her dancing and performing clothes completed her main packing. Throw in a small medical kit, a spoon, bowl and cup, her finger cymbals—zils, juggling balls, a supply of travel food, including dried fruits and nuts and cheese, and some water skins, and her backpack was nearly full.

  She tied a length of old and strong rope to the outside. At the last moment she added a supply of powdered kaf and date sugar and a battered old ibrik. She had many useful skills, but cooking was not one of them and she would have to rely on bought food along her way but, at least she could have kaf. Thinking of the princess she placed some rakis lacoum in the ibrik where it would not get squashed and went to say a perhaps last goodbye to those of her sisters and half-sisters that were available.

  ~~~

  The next evening, upon again meeting the princess, Ayesha was given a purse. It was made of plain leather with a brass ring on a loop to hold it closed. Smooth and worn, dark green, once good, not too fat and with a good supply of old coins such as could have been saved or more likely stolen. She had been wondering all day how she was supposed to start her journey.

  She became sure when she was taken by the princess to the loft over the Caliph’s stables. She was to be delivered by carpet. Being the daughter of a sheik, admittedly near the last one and from his third wife, she had, of course ridden on one before, but only to make lazy circles in the sky around Yãqũsa. This time, from what she remembered of maps, she would be travelling for most of the night. She was introduced to the mages who would take her—one for the trip there and one for the trip back. The instructions she was given by them were simple: stay in the middle of the rug unless told otherwise; secure your baggage to yourself so that it would not blow off and to warn them if she felt ill. She quietly bade farewell to the princess and obediently mounted the carpet.

  The trip itself was…interesting. The mage in charge guided the carpet by a means she could not see as they went north over the Caliphate of the Believers. He was obviously following an agreed path, as the second mage would sometimes consult an object in his hand and lean forward to correct his colleague’s direction. Despite her beauty and the importance of how she was being sent, both had looked at her with some distaste and neither one talked. It seemed that either they did not like women, or at least did not like them taking the work that properly belonged to a man. She had meant many of both sorts before.

  Mountains slipped past, initially just on the left, but then on both sides, and Ayesha was soon wishing that she had brought warmer clothes or a thicker robe. The chill of the mountains was made worse by the wind created by their passage through the air. To her surprise the carpet, a large military one with upturned ends, which travelled much faster than the small one she had been on for her previous short trip, was very solid. With no give in its fabric it was like sitting on a mat on a stone floor. At least it was a feeling she was very familiar with from her training and she was quite relaxed sitting there.

  They travelled through the night and, after two hours what she presumed was the ridge south of the Darkreach Gap loomed in the distance far ahead. The second mage made a major correction to their direction and they took a long turn to the left and began slowly descending first through, and then from, the mountains. The landscape below them changed from mountains to hills to forest. To her left there was visible a twinkle of light where, in the middle of the night, a large fire burned. She thought for a while about where they might be and concluded that it must be from one of the hidden Bear-folk villages.

  A hand of hours passed and Ayesha could see the flat expanse of Lake Erave reflecting the moons ahead of her as the carpet moved down almost to the level of the treetops, its mages seeking the trail north from Haven and a spot to alight. A break in the trees appeared ahead, then a clearing below. They moved slowly forward to veer off when the light of a fire revealed that it was occupied. A meeting with traders while alighting from a carpet would destroy the secrecy of her mission. After circling around they continued up the road. The next clearing was seemingly unoccupied. The mages consulted something in their hands and she saw them nod to each other in confirmation.

  On reaching the ground Ayesha removed her gear and said goodbye to the mages and thanked them. They merely nodded brusquely at her words. Because of the role she had chosen she was used to this behaviour from many men, if they did not behave worse. She sighed, wondered if things would be different among the Kãfirũn, the Unbelievers, and moved to the side respectfully. The mages changed positions and, without a backward glance, word or gesture the carpet lifted and headed back towards the mountains.

  Suddenly Ayesha felt very alone. Around her the noises of the forest night, which she hoped were the normal ones, were to be heard. As she moved away from the clearing the fallen leaves were soft underfoot. Having discarded the idea of just curling up on the ground as food for any passing carnivore, Ayesha started to climb a tree. Her weapons and pack made this awkward, so she stopped and tied them to one end of her rope. The other went around her ankle. This time the climbing was easier. She had selected an old oak and, with the aid of her daggers she was soon up in its lowest and widest branches. She pulled her gear up with her and was soon snugly nestled into the junction of branch and trunk sound asleep. The cool night air of the lowland woodlands was positively balmy after her earlier passage through the chill mountain air.

  ~~~

  Ayesha awoke to the sound of birds singing and a pale autumn sunrise, which laid dappled patterns th
rough the turning leaves. She waited a while, just listening. Apart from the unknown birds there was nothing to be heard. She next peered down and around. Again nothing was to be seen and the ground was clear. She lowered her gear on the rope and, throwing the other end over the branch descended to the ground before reclaiming and coiling her rope. After praying, she donned her weapons, ate some food and headed north along the track, walking briskly along with bow in hand. Her senses were alert. They needed to be. She was a single person, moving alone in an unknown land.

  After a while she came upon a couple of men with a packhorse. From their dress and weapons they were probably hunters. They were similarly alert and a single armed Muslim woman on the track to their town was obviously not what they were accustomed to seeing. Although they had pale skin, they greeted her politely and well enough in Hindi and she answered in the same tongue. They were happy to tell her that Erave Town was only a three hours fast walk away and she would come on the first hamlet, where they lived, very soon. She was shocked in that, despite their surprise, the Kãfirũn men were more polite to her than the mages who had brought her here had been.

  The village proved to be very different to the places she was used to. For a start there was no wall around it. Next, the houses appeared to have timber frames with dirt packed into them and then painted, instead of solid stone. Lastly the roofs were covered in straw rather than slate. They were easy prey to any attackers here. Raiders or someone with The Burning running through their body could set fire to them so easily. There were also men and women visible. Most of the women wore dresses with no trousers underneath and had, at most, straw hats. Most were working bareheaded. They looked with curiosity on her hijab and veil as if she were the odd one.