Oathtaker

by Patricia Reding

  “Something wrong?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe I’m just jumpy. Edmond saw me reappear here, and that took some explaining, and then that note arrived.”

  Dixon read silently. He looked up.

  “What do you suppose she means?”

  He refolded the missive. “You know, when I was at the palace, I thought at first that Edmond seemed mighty chummy with Lilith. But then he’d catch my eye and shrug his shoulders or roll his eyes. I realized he was just putting on an act. It was his way of humoring her and keeping the peace.”

  “So you don’t think there’s anything to this? You know, sometimes I worry about so many people who know about all of this—about us—about the girls. And so many who’ve not sworn to protect them. Like— Well, like Edmond, and Ezra’s men—”

  “Ted and Faith,” he added.

  “Right.” She exhaled slowly. “But you think there’s nothing to this?” She sought his reassurance.

  He shook his head. “Nah, Edmond is the quintessential politician. He knows that the best way to keep peace with Lilith is to make her the center of attention.” He chuckled. “And boy does he! For a time there, it bothered me. But like I said, he just knows how to stroke her.”

  “That’s certainly a relief.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  The camp had been in turmoil all day, indeed since late the evening before when a visitor arrived unexpectedly. Velia wondered what all the fuss had to do with her. She looked out the back of her wagon at the guard who summoned her.

  “In a minute,” she said. She shivered as she contemplated what Lilith might want. She wrapped her cape over her shoulders and lifted the tarp.

  In just the last week or ten days, winter had let up its hold. Icicles hanging from her wagon melted as it basked in the warm sun. Puddles and mud replaced most of the former snow cover. But with all that, the air remained quite cool.

  “Don’t keep her waiting,” the guard chided.

  She scowled, felt for her Oathtaker’s blade just to reassure herself it was in its sheath, then started down the steps. He reached out to help her, but she brushed his hand away. “What does she want?”

  “No idea.” He walked toward Lilith’s wagon, Velia in his wake. “Your guest!” he called upon their arrival.

  Lilith lifted the tarp at the back of her wagon. “That will be all, Freeman,” she said. “In,” she commanded with a wave of her hand.

  Velia climbed up and entered.

  A man sat in a chair next to Lilith’s rumpled bed. He was slim, dressed all in black.

  So, this must be the visitor that set the camp into such an uproar. She sat, then took down the hood of her cape. She found the wagon unexpectedly warm and that it smelled, sickeningly, of roses, lilies—and wine.

  “Ma’am?”

  Lilith, dressed only in a robe and looking disheveled, wore an expression like a beast that had cornered its prey. “I have someone I’d like you to meet,” she said, “and then I have a request to make of you.”

  “Certainly,” Velia replied. Inwardly, she cursed. She couldn’t wait to get away from this monster, but she needed more information.

  Lilith sat on the edge of her bed and leaned down on one arm. The front of her robe draped open toward the man in black. The Oathtaker looked his direction, then stifled a grin as she saw his eyes on the prize.

  “This is Edmond.”

  For the first time, the man glanced Velia’s way. His eyes slowly ran over her.

  She glanced at Lilith, wondering how the woman would react to his leering, but she appeared ignorant of what had transpired. “Edmond,” Velia said with a nod. She despised him already.

  Lilith grasped a curl of her golden locks and wrapped it around her fingers. “Edmond has just brought me the most wonderful news.”

  “And what news is that?”

  “You remember I told you about an imposter child?”

  “You mean the child someone is trying to pawn off as a seventh seventh?”

  “That’s the one,” Edmond said.

  Lilith frowned at him, then turned back to Velia. “That’s the one,” she said.

  “What of this child?”

  “Well, as I mentioned before, we cannot allow such a trick to be played out on the people.”

  “But surely the child is innocent.”

  The woman glared. “Well yes, of course the child is innocent, and no harm will come to her. But those responsible for this must be stopped.”

  Liar! You do mean her harm! “Of course. What can I do?”

  “I need for you to accompany me.”

  The Oathtaker smiled inwardly. “When do we leave?”

  “Oh, you darling!” Lilith purred. “Didn’t I tell you, Edmond, that she is a darling?”

  “Yes,” he said, his eyes returning to take in another dose of Velia’s beauty.

  She shifted uncomfortably under his stare, then cringed when he licked his lips at her. “Well of course, Lilith, I’m happy to assist you. When do we leave?”

  “First thing tomorrow morning.”

  “But won’t it take longer than that for all of the—men—to break camp?”

  Lilith pointed to a bottle of wine and some glasses. “Edmond, do be a dear and do the honors.”

  “Certainly.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it would take the men longer than that to break camp,” she said, “but they’re not going.”

  Edmond poured the wine, then handed a glass to each of the women.

  Velia resisted cringing when her hand inadvertently touched his. “Not going?”

  “No. There will be the three of us and one additional guard.”

  “You think that’s safe?”

  “Safe? Why, that’s why you’re going to accompany me.” Lilith put her glass down.

  “But I’m not your Oathtaker. If anyone should recognize you as one of the Select—”

  “No, you’re not my Oathtaker, but as I told you earlier, that’s neither here nor there. The point is, your presence will keep anyone from trying to harm me if they do recognize me as one of the Select. What’s more, people aren’t accustomed to seeing an unattended Select, so it will help to keep questions at a minimum.” Lilith rolled her eyes. “I simply abhor questions.”

  Velia set her glass down. “I’ll be ready.”

  “Fortunately, you haven’t got much to take. We’ll need to keep it light. We won’t be taking a wagon.”

  “I’m a good rider.”

  “I knew you would be. You may see yourself out now.”

  The Oathtaker turned to go as Lilith whispered to Edmond. “Well now, where were we?”

  He chuckled meaningfully in response.

  Velia motioned to the guard to see her to her wagon. Once there, she found her backpack and put her few things inside it. She stopped to thank the Good One that she would accompany Lilith on the trip. Now all she had to do was find out who and where the child was. With that information, she could give the infant’s caretakers sufficient warning.

  On further reflection, that was rather a tall order.

  Morning arrived with a steady rain. At a shout from Freeman, Velia rolled out of bed. She stretched and changed into her day clothes, then pulled on her boots. Quickly she combed through her hair and ran a brush over her teeth. She unsnapped the leather strap holding an extra weapon inside her boot so she could retrieve it quickly if need be, grasped her cloak, wrapped it over her shoulders, and then made her way out of her wagon.

  The rain slapped down. She followed Freeman to Lilith’s wagon, doing her best to avoid puddles. Most of the camp still slept. Campfires sizzled and smoked in the rain.

  “Your guest!” Freeman called.

  Edmond stuck his head out. “Wait there.”

  “I see you’ve been replaced,” Velia whispered to her guard.

  “Not for long.”

  “Really,” she taunted.

  “I’m going to kill him,” he muttered through his teeth and under his breath.
>
  “You’ll have to get in line,” she quipped.

  Lilith emerged from the wagon, dressed in black. It was the first time Velia had seen her in anything other than red. She was surprised the woman could stay warm in such a light dress and one with such a plunging neckline. She didn’t know Lilith kept warm with the burning heat of Daeva.

  When Lilith’s feet touched the ground she turned toward Freeman, his arms around her, her face just inches from his. She hesitated for a moment as though lost in thought, then thrust her pelvis forward and tossed her head to the side, leaving a long expanse of décolletage and cleavage for his eyes. A long moment passed.

  “You can let go now,” she whispered.

  Edmond made his way to the ground, Pooch in one arm.

  “Don’t forget to keep an eye on Pooch when I’m gone,” Lilith said to Freeman as she took her pet.

  “I won’t forget.”

  “Are our horses ready?”

  “As you ordered.”

  “Lead the way then.” She grasped his arm.

  The foursome made their way through the main camp. It was the first time Velia had been through the area. She fought with herself to keep from showing her disgust. The tents were in shambles, the thoroughfare spotted with refuse, dog dung, and rotting food scraps that even the hounds would not eat.

  Outside one tent, a woman sat near what had been a campfire. Her long hair, wet from the rain, hung down over her shoulders and bruised face. Blood from a long jagged laceration across her cheek ran in the rainwater down her face and neck. Velia fought to tear her eyes from the woman’s gaze.

  Lilith marched on by as though nothing was out of the ordinary or worthy of note.

  The Oathtaker tried to keep her eyes forward so she wouldn’t see the misery around her, but some of the sights pulled her attention against her will. A young woman held her own clearly broken forearm in her other hand. In apparent shock, she swayed back and forth, lost in some other place. Though her mouth was open, no sound escaped her lips.

  Another victim, barely more than a child, kneeled in the mud. She keened as she pulled at her shift upon which was a large spot of blood. It screamed out in the gray morning surroundings. A dead woman was on the ground near her. Her limbs were twisted, her chest motionless, her eyes open, as though she’d watched her spirit set out on its journey into eternity.

  After several minutes of passing by more similar scenes, Velia let go of her tears, relieved that the rain hid them.

  Finally, they arrived at the stables. Two men stood holding the reins of four horses.

  Freeman assisted Lilith to mount. “’At’s Bob, ya got,” he said.

  When the guard tried to assist Velia, she held her hand out to stop him, then hung her backpack on the saddle and swung into place. The guard turned away.

  “Wait. What’s her name?”

  “Victory.”

  She patted the horse’s neck. “Good, Victory.” She hoped her mount’s name was an omen of good things to come.

  “Careful with that one,” the guard cautioned as Edmond approached his mount.

  “Why is that?”

  “His name is Donagh. He’s fast and he’s strong.”

  Edmond pulled on the reins. Donagh bucked and screamed.

  “Whoa! Whoa!” the guard scolded. He didn’t hide his disdain.

  Edmond scowled at the guard, but let up on the reins. Moments later, the animal quieted, though its eyes remained afire.

  Finally, the guard who’d cautioned Edmond and who it turned out would accompany the group, mounted his horse, a large gray gelding. Well over six foot tall, he wore little against the cold: light linen pants and a sleeveless vest that exaggerated his biceps and abdominal muscles. From his belt hung numerous knives, an axe, a weapon with a long curved blade, and one that consisted of a chain on each end of which hung metal balls with protruding spikes. At his side he carried a sword and from his knee-high boots hung more knives. Tattoos of serpents with their mouths open and fangs exposed, decorated his shaved head and body.

  Lilith introduced the guard as “Jabari.”

  He didn’t acknowledge her traveling companions. He simply awaited her orders.

  They started out. A flock of crows lifted into the air around them like an escort. Velia had noticed more of the vagrants around the camp in the past day or so. She cringed at the volume of their collective caw and settled in for a long day.

  The countryside passed by. A few patches of snow remained on the sides of rocks and hills that, throughout the long winter, had been shaded from direct sunlight.

  The escort of crows circled over the group. From time to time one dropped down to peck at some refuse or carrion along the way. They cawed and swore at one another to Velia’s utter frustration and Lilith’s apparent delight.

  After several hours, the sun made its way through the blanket of cloud cover and feebly began warming the air. Even so, as her clothing was damp from the cold rain, Velia shivered constantly. She wrapped her cloak more tightly around herself. Were it not for Victory’s body heat, she thought her teeth would chatter.

  Late in the day, the travelers stopped at a small country inn. The guard, who ate and slept in the stables, kept his distance at all times. Velia had hoped she might get more information about where they were headed from him, but it seemed that at least for now, her hope had been in vain.

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  The days wore on, their pattern never changing: riding, eating, waiting, sleeping, riding, eating, waiting, sleeping. Velia grew tired of the monotony and more and more concerned with the passing time, that Lilith and Edmond would never discuss what she wished to know.

  Finally, on the fifth evening, after making their way through a particularly desolate area, the travelers came upon an inn, the first they’d seen for hours. Little more than a shack, it sported a weathered sign that read The Resting Place in flaking blue and orange paint along with a depiction of what might once have been a setting sun.

  Gray and dilapidated, the place boasted cracked windows with missing shutters. Crows alighted upon the building’s roof, weathervane, and chimney top, from whence they maintained a constant cawing conversation.

  Lilith and Edmond entered while Velia waited outside with Jabari, who paid her no attention. Minutes later Lilith emerged after arranging for their rooms.

  The wooden steps leading to the front door, weak with age, threatened to collapse at any moment under an unsuspecting visitor’s weight. The Oathtaker held her breath in anticipation of the worst when she stepped on the first tread, then cautiously made her way up.

  The moment she entered the rickety inn, the odor of decay assaulted her. A cat, rat, mouse, mole, or other creature, left the odor behind as its only lasting hold to the world of the living. Likely the varmint had died somewhere within the inn’s walls.

  As she stepped through the dust and old dead bugs littering the floor, a sudden urge to wash her hands overcame her. Fearing the infestation of lice or other unwanted visitors upon her person, Velia pulled her cloak tightly around herself. She imagined her skin crawling with vermin.

  The proprietor’s clothing was filthy, pestiferous. Velia cringed upon the sight of his bare feet with toenails, long and dirty, and his few remaining teeth, crooked and decayed. He showed the travelers to their rooms.

  Sick to her stomach, Velia passed on dinner, informing Lilith she’d be in her room.

  On each of the last evenings, Lilith had stayed in a room across or down the hall from the Oathtaker, but this time the only two rooms available were next to one another on the same side of the hallway.

  Velia entered the one appointed her. Inside she found a single cot, a small table upon which sat a lamp low on oil, and a wooden chair. An aged and threadbare quilt covered the bed. She pulled the blanket back. Sheets, clearly unwashed for some time, greeted her. She fought back a gag reflex. Grimacing, she stepped away.

  Better I should sleep in the stables with the horses. They’re cleaner
and smell better.

  Hoping the squalor surrounding her would at least present her with an opportunity to get information, she surveyed, inch by inch, the wall separating her room from Lilith’s. She looked for any weakness in it through which she might hear something.

  There!

  She ran her fingers over a knothole. She had to be sure that Lilith wouldn’t notice the opening, or she’d censure her speech.

  What would give away its presence? Light. Sound.

  Quickly, before the woman returned to her room, Velia placed a chair near the opening in the wall. Then she turned out her light, vowing she’d wait in that same exact place and position all night if she had to. She offered a quick prayer for strength, and then sat.

  Blast!

  The chair squeaked. She got back up and moved it out of the way. Then she placed a small blanket from her pack on the floor and sat back down. She groaned. The place reeked. She covered her face with her sleeve to shut out the worst of the smell and prepared for her vigil.

  Tired, she closed her eyes. Her head sprang up when someone knocked on her door.

  “Velia?” Lilith called.

  The Oathtaker didn’t answer, didn’t move.

  Another knock sounded out. “Velia?” This time it was Edmond.

  She sat quietly watching shadows at the crack beneath her door.

  “Must be sleeping,” Lilith said.

  The shadows retreated. Fully awake now, the Oathtaker leaned gently against the wall. She heard the door to the next room open.

  “You can go now, Edmond.”

  “But—”

  “Really, Edmond, I’m tired.”

  “Not tired of me, I hope.”

  There was no sound for a moment. “You?” The hesitation in Lilith’s response lent a lack of credibility to her words. “No, of course not. How could I be when you’ve nearly delivered them to me.”

  Them?

  “Just a short time now to go. A week or so,” he said.

  Lilith moaned. “Mmmmm, yes. I can almost feel the satisfaction already.”

  “What do you think will be the best part?” Edmond’s voice was muffled, lost in what Velia surmised was Lilith’s breast.