The Shadow Gypsy (The Shadow Sisters)

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The Shadow Gypsy (The Shadow Sisters) Page 9

by C. R. Daems


  "You deserved to be punished for threatening a representative of the Goddess Amatera. She demanded it."

  "And what would you have done when you caught up with the wagons. Talk to me? No, you would have killed in the name of stopping violence. Come with me, Jelena. The drug will wear off in time. I will explain to the Sisters how they trapped you. They will understand."

  "I don't want their understanding. I'm committed to the Goddess Amatera." She shouted. I could see she was in a bad way. Her hands were shaking, probably because she hadn't had the God drink in several days.

  "Please, Jelena. I can't let you leave."

  "You can't let me leave. Even tired like I am, I can beat you. You were never very good with weapons. Would you kill me, gentle Ryana?" She laughed long and hard. A battle raged in my head. I was tired of killing, and now I faced a friend in what would be a duel to the death. Amatera was right—war and violence were ugly, a disease that justified evil in the name of good. Was that what I was doing? How easy it would be to let her kill me, so I could rest.

  Yes, death is easy. It's living that's hard. I could not solve this dilemma with logic. There was no time to use logic and besides, I was poor at it. Intuition told me a world on deadly Passion would be worse than it had ever been. I drew two knives. "I'm sorry, Jelena."

  "Have you ever killed anything?"

  "I'm scarred with many deaths. More than you have fingers and toes." I said. Jelena's eyes grew big and her mouth hung open. Then she smiled.

  "You? The Shadow of Death." She laughed. "I'm sorry too. You have to join us or die. You know I can kill you."

  "You've become a thug, Jelena."

  "I'm a trained Assassin. Hajna trained." She smiled.

  "Assassins do not engage in contests to determine who is the best."

  "That's what makes it exciting. Testing ourselves."

  "Sister Hajna did not train you or me to be an Assassin. She taught us to defend ourselves when all else failed. Sister Rong, taught us to be Assassins."

  "That fool, Rong taught us to lie and sneak around like thieves."

  "That fool taught you the real secrets of the Sisterhood."

  "Enough, Ryana. Drop your knives and come with me, or I'm going to kill... I can't believe you're the Shadow of Death. You couldn't master enough weapons to qualify. If you are, the legend is greatly exaggerated, as I'm about to prove," she said, raising her sword to fighting position and advancing on me. I let my Shadow-self put me in the moment between past and present where neither life nor death, winning or losing mattered. When she reached to within ten paces of me she charged. I threw the knife in my right hand. Normally, she would have twisted right or left, changing her profile, to avoid being hit, but running limited that action. She had turned slightly and the knife had entered her chest several finger-widths to the left but still in the area of the heart. She staggered two steps and dropped to her knee, mouth open, and eyes wide.

  "Assassins are killers, Jelena. They find the person and kill him or her. There is no contest, no the better man or woman wins. Assassins avoid contests. That is why Sister Rong is the true maker of Assassins." I threw the second knife into her heart, fell onto my knees, and cried.

  * * *

  "It is time to go, Ryana. Your clan will be worried," Sizwe said. The faint light of early morning cast shadows across the desert floor—the dead. "Killing a friend is difficult even when it's necessary."

  "She wasn't evil. The drug caught her when she was young and vulnerable. In a few years with an older mentor, she would have settled down."

  "She gave you no choice. The Passion flower is a powerful drug that makes the user a slave to the drug and anyone who controls access to it. A Sister under its control could cause great evil."

  "Would you do me a favor and bury her with honor. She was a dear friend."

  "Yes, the Zunji will do that."

  "Another favor. Would one of your priests make me a mug full of the Passion flower drug?"

  "You aren't going to use it, are you? It would destroy you. That would be a shame."

  "It would be tempting. To forget the Shadow of Death. To forget killing a dear friend. To return to that little girl who wouldn't kill a rabbit when she was starving. Very tempting. But no, I was under its influence once—never again. I'd like a sample so people will know what the drug tastes like."

  "I've seen enough of you to know that little girl is still there. Hiding, because her duty has required her to do things she hated. We all see that. Someday you will come to realize it," he said as he rose. He was kind to think that little girl lived, but I doubted I would live to see her again. The Shadow of Death had replaced her.

  "You suspected that Ryana was the Shadow of Death. That's why you sent Gero away."

  "Yes. Your story was a reasonable explanation, and you are a good actor. But you've lived among us for a while, and Ryana felt like the Shadow of Death. No, not death or evil. A feeling of duty, concern for others, love of clan, disregard for her own safety. The Shadow the Zunji love. Your secret is safe with me."

  "Thank you." What else could I say? I trusted Sizwe. The Zunji felt like clan to me. If it's hadn't been for the gypsies, I would have stayed with them. Sizwe helped me to my feet.

  "Get dressed. Have your clan give another performance tomorrow night before you cross over into Calion. I will have someone deliver the liquid to you."

  * * *

  Luka must have been sitting up all night because he was the first to see me and came running.

  "Are you alright? I was afraid you..." He held my shoulders, looked me over, and pulled me to him.

  "I'm fine, love. Jelena was killed along with most of the yellow-robes who chased us." I left out the details, not wanting to burden him with my guilt.

  "Ryana, what happened?" Alida said, between gasps for breath. She and several others had come running when they saw Luka leave the wagon and run towards me. I waited for the rest of the clan to arrive before answering.

  "Chief Sizwe took me to the site of the battle, so I could see my friend. He promised she would get a proper burial. It was a long way. He's asked for us to put on another performance tomorrow night, if you have no objections," I said looking at Santo. His frown changed to a grin.

  "Alida is right. Being with you is exciting. I had many doubts about entering the Zunji... Province but felt we had no other choice. You were right. The Zunji are a wonderful people. And your idea of letting them play the games and eat with us made a huge difference. We got to know them and them us. They said we are welcome to cross their land anytime and hoped we'd stop now and then to perform for them." He laughed. "They not only let us enter their land, but they stopped the yellow-robes chasing us. We couldn't have fought off thirty men with swords. I feel safer here than I do in the other provinces."

  "Would you prefer to enter near Bywick or on a path to Slicci?"

  "Bywick should be safe now that the Zunji has destroyed most of the yellow-robes, but Bywick is still in Tuska and I'd prefer not to take the risk. Slicci," he said after looking around the group and seeing their concern when he mentioned Bywick. Several warriors led us for three-quarters of a day to an area where the shrubs where more numerous and a few trees dotted the landscape. They said we were less than a half day from the Calion border and a day or two from Slicci. That evening, the talk was about the Zunji and what individual clan members had learned about them. I lay against Luka, his arm around me, trying not to think about Jelena, but it was impossible. My shadow-self had committed a new atrocity—killed a dear friend. Mercifully, Kata and Alida sat down next to us.

  "Ryana, I love being a gypsy. But I have to admit I get bored easily, and before you came, my life bored me. Since you've come, each day is new and exciting. Even my sex life has improved," Kata said, her cheeks turning a slight shade of pink.

  "Careful, Kata. Don't encourage her. My sex life is just fine, and things have been a bit too exciting lately," Alida said, shaking her head. "This is new to you. When y
ou've been around her as long as I have, boring is a good thing."

  "They loved the fireballs and Luka's fire rings," Kata said, excited as she changed subjects. "They even had some ideas for our acts."

  "Yes, one warrior told me it would be interesting if the fire ring had a circle of spears facing towards the middle where I dove through," Luka said with a snort. "I had to agree, that would be exciting... and dangerous. I may play around with the idea."

  * * *

  The next night, Kato, Sizwe's youngest son, brought part of his tribe. Again the evening was enjoyable, more so that a normal performance. It felt more like putting on a performance for another clan. During the gathering afterward, Kato sat down next to Luka and me.

  "Father tells me you can speak for the Shadow of Death."

  "On some matters. I spent a few years at Ahasha, and we became friends," I lied easily.

  "Father said this was for her." He handed me a large mug-sized gourde with a stopper.

  "Thank you, Kato. I will see that she gets it." It was well past everyone's normal bed time when the Zunji left, but I asked everyone to gather around the dying fire.

  "I've put a liquid in this plate. I'd like everyone, except the children, to put your finger in the liquid and taste it. Just a small drop on the finger to taste." I got some strange looks, but everyone stepped up, dipped his or her finger in the liquid, and touched it to their tongue.

  "Yummy," Roza said to general nods.

  "It has a fruity taste, but like no fruit I've ever tasted," Feko said.

  "It's refreshing. Is it something the Zunji grow?" Santo asked.

  "No. It's made from a wild flower that appears exclusive to the Zunji's desert. It's a poison." I held up my hand before anyone could respond. "Not one that will kill you. One that will make you a slave. You will do anything to get it. I mean anything. My friend fell victim to it. It is how the yellow-robes are recruiting their members. It is how they kidnapped me. If you ever taste anything like that, spit it out and come see me immediately."

  "They gave it to you?" Arkady asked.

  "Yes, several doses. It was only by luck I escaped. If I hadn't, I would have done anything they asked, and like my friend, I'd have done it willingly. Remember that taste. That is the most dangerous poison on Hesland."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CALION: Slicci - More robed ones and more questions.

  We crossed over into Calion Province the next day around noon and by nightfall we were within one day of Slicci. That night Luka began constructing the stage apparatus that would be his new finale. He enlarged his current ring with the groove for the rags that were used to create the fire and added eight spears—their sharp and deadly tips pointing into the center. The opening was not much wider than his shoulders.

  "You're going to dive through that?" I shouted. "That's insane. If you want to live dangerously, you can replace Yoan as Adami." Now that I thought about it, Yoan was crazy to have agreed to that skit. One throw slightly off and he could have been seriously injured. Of course, that was what had made the act exciting.

  "You have to admit it would be exciting if I can perfect it."

  "And if you can't?" The thought of him diving through that ring had me sweating. Those blades would not only cut him, they would continue to tear through skin and muscle as his body continued through the ring.

  "Don't worry, hon. I'm just getting a feel for what it would look like. I'll practice with paint brushes for spear heads. That way I'll know where I would have been cut and how to adjust my moves. And of course, how big the opening will have to be. As you know, a good act looks more dangerous than it really is. So the opening must be large enough that I don't have to be perfect, yet small enough to look impossible."

  "Come, Ryana. Luka isn't as dumb as he looks. We have our own new tricks to work on," Kata said, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me towards our Magic Ball group. I blew him a kiss and reluctantly allowed Kata to drag me along.

  "I hope our new act doesn't include spears."

  "Of course not; we're just going to increase the number of fireballs." Kata smiled. I shook my head. They were all crazy—me included.

  * * *

  We arrived in Slicci too late for a performance. Santo planned to stay for five nights, but put on only two performances as the town was small. As usual, early the next day several others and I posted notices at public places where people congregated. Each clan's notice listed only a few acts, usually ones that were new or had added something new. In our case, the Magic Balls was highlighted. Our reception in town had improved a great deal since the king had declared us under his protection. We still weren't considered real Heslanders, but we were no longer lumped in with vagrants and beggars. There were now potential consequences for assaulting the gypsies.

  "Hey, sweet thing. Two silvers for a quick one," an older man said as I walked towards my next site. He looked like a merchant, judging by his well-made clothes and the quality of the dagger on his belt.

  "Five tora," I responded, turning in a full circle. "I'm good."

  "Three silvers," he said, after he recovered his voice. That was one of several responses to my standard quip. About a third thought I was negotiating for more money and raised the offer like this man. A third took it as a good natured joke. And a third got nasty. I wondered what I'd say if someone decided he'd pay the five tora--maybe they would if I were Ilka or Alida.

  "Sorry, no discounts," I said, smiling at the thought as I continued walking. I saw several black-robed men that morning. Two approached me, each with a small wooden bowl.

  "If you can, a donation for the disciples of the prophet Virtor. He preaches the word of the God Xades, who wishes to promote a safe Hesland," a woman's voice said. The robes all seemed similar if not the same except for the color. They effectively hid or obscured everything except an approximation of height. I reached into my purse and took out two coppers and dropped them in the bowl.

  "A worthy goal. How do the disciples of Virtor hope to achieve it?" I asked. Religious cults seemed to have sprung up in each province, but they didn't seem related to each other by prophet or God or goal.

  "The God Xades believes the evil should be punished and made to atone for their evil ways. We are devoted to helping those injured and to find and punish those responsible." The woman's voice again.

  "But that is what the city guard and the magistrate does, isn't it?"

  "That is what the city guard and the magistrate are supposed to do. But many are corrupt and those responsible go free to continue in their evil ways."

  I had to agree that the city guard wasn’t the most efficient group. The Shadow Sisters were born because they had proved more effective in locating criminals. And there was plenty of corruption. If you had money, you were much less likely to be arrested or found guilty. But...

  "If you act for the city guard and the magistrates, won't that make you criminals?"

  "The city guard and the magistrate follow the words of man. We are acting in accordance with the words of the God Xades, as given to the prophet Virtor. We have no choice. We are sworn to the God Xades and to His wish that Hesland be safe from evil." She scared me. It was one of those things that sounded good—punish the evil ones—but who was going to determine what and who was evil. Would I be evil if I didn't believe in the God Xades? Would I be evil if I didn't want to contribute to their cause? Would there be a trial or was each disciple the sole judge? Did they have prisons? Did they believe they should run the city—province—kingdom?

  I returned to the wagons with a splitting headache. It just didn't make sense—a unique cult in each province, each with its own prophet, each committed to a unique God, each with different colored robes, and each with a different objective. I could understand cults developing after turbulent times. That was normal. But I would expect to see brown, orange, yellow, and black in each major city. Or at most, each city having a predominant cult. They didn't appear to be at war with each other or were they? It wasn'
t Shadow or clan business, so I stopped trying to make sense of it. Logic wasn't my strong point, so there was no point in me trying to work it out logically.

  Now that the yellow-robes weren't a problem, I settled into the day-to-day clan activities and life returned to normal. Kata now had us working with two fireballs, but I knew she would continue to push us until the number of fireballs equaled the number in the group. She was alive with energy. Luka also had a vision and spent every hour working on his new routine with the spears. When I wasn't working with the Magic Balls group, I sat watching Luka. The paint was a good idea. He'd dive through the ring and then check to see if he had touched one of the brushes, which would eventually be a blade. In the beginning, he came through the ring with several paint marks. The problem was the nightmare I had envisioned. The brush touched him in one place, and then continued down the rest of the body as he continued moving past it. Gradually, he adjusted the opening and his tumbling routine to where he only made contact with the brush now and then. That was a major improvement; however, when he did make contact, had it been a blade, the cut would have been two to three hands long and potentially a finger or two deep.

  "You're not ready yet, Luka," I said, putting as much steel in my voice as I could. The mere thought of his side, stomach, or thigh being ripped open made me heave.

  "I know, hon. If I'm seriously hurt, I won't be able to perform and the clan will suffer." He smiled. "And you won't talk to me. Right now I'm testing the limits. In the end, I hope to make it appear far more dangerous than it actually is."

  * * *

  We stayed six nights in Kadal and put on three performances. I saw several black-robed ones, but none attended the performances. I was nervous about going to Zeles because of Lady Roshan but anxious to talk to the Earth Wizards, since they may have news from Morag, although I wasn't looking forward to telling her I killed Jelena. She had said for me to investigate, not kill—my shadow-self's preferred solution to every situation.

 

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