Slave seemed not to even see Waarde. Myrrhini screamed as he crashed through her, iron bars scything, in his attack on Urryk. The small noblewoman stood no chance, unbalanced, unarmed, clad only in a dress, with nothing to protect her, nor any time to even raise an arm to ward off the unheeding charge. She fell, broken and bloodied, in a heartbeat.
Urryk fumbled at his belt for a strange, three-bladed weapon. He raised it and Slave skidded to a halt.
‘Hah!’ Urryk cried. ‘I knew there was some —’ His voice stopped mid-sentence as the weapon seemed to be ripped from his grasp by an invisible force leaving deep wounds slashed across Urryk’s hand. The Claw rose straight up into the air and spun before flying straight at Slave. He dropped his iron bars and caught it effortlessly. Urryk dropped to his knees, whimpering and nursing his damaged hand.
For a fleeting moment, silence fell on the scene. All around, the dead and dying lay quiet while Slave looked up at the three-spoked wheel in his hand. Briefly, his gaze flicked across to where Myrrhini crouched in the cage. His eerie silver eye glinted once, as if in recognition, before he looked back at Urryk and pounced.
The slave master died under a flurry of slashing blows so swift Myrrhini could not see Slave’s arm move.
After he fell, every guard left alive wrenched their horses around and fled but Slave did not spare them a single glance. His mad ferocity was neither spent nor sated. Myrrhini threw herself down onto the wooden floor of her cage, hiding her face so that she did not have to see Slave run howling throughout the blood-soaked scene, hacking, slicing everybody — living, dead, chained or free — until nothing could possibly survive. Only when silence reigned did she dare lift her head.
In horror, she stared into a glinting silver eye that regarded her from within a scarred face splashed with blood and flesh not its own. Myrrhini scrambled away from it, struggling across the wood until she slammed into the bars of her cage.
A voice, not human — deeper, harder, more malevolent than a human throat could sustain — spoke to her from Slave’s mouth.
‘Little Mertian,’ the voice said. ‘I shall spare you this time. I am satisfied for now. Your time will come, but not by my hand, nor my Beq’s. But your time will not be any better for that, when it does come.’
41
Maida and Iskopra were sitting at a large table when Keshik entered. Their empty plates were cleared away while others containing sweet cakes replaced them. The room was large and warm, with rugs on the floor and tapestries depicting pastoral scenes on the walls. The peaceful, almost whimsical nature of the scenes was incongruous and jarring. The heavy wooden table dominating the room was old and somewhat battered with scars of past meals. Attentive servants waited around the room.
Keshik pulled out a chair beside Maida and sat down. He crooked a finger at one of the men hovering nearby. He quickly came and stood, slightly stooped, at Keshik’s shoulder.
‘I am hungry,’ Keshik said.
The man gave a brief nod and moved away again.
‘What was that all about?’ Iskopra asked.
‘I want some food. I earned it.’
‘No. I knew what that was about — what did you talk about?’
‘I want some information about what happened in Vogel.’
‘Why? We’re away. It will die down. What happened there doesn’t concern us,’ Maida protested.
Keshik shook his head, troubled by the memory of the three blue lights appearing on Grada’s face. ‘Something like that won’t be contained.’
‘How can you know?’
‘You saw it — that thing that was leading them. The way they followed it. Vogel won’t be able to contain it. Something needs to stop it.’
‘It doesn’t have to be you.’
‘I might have let it out. It might be my fault.’
‘How?’
‘You remember what the Mertian woman said?’
‘I remember.’
‘The sacred prison lies asunder. I might have been a part of that.’
‘She also said the Dark rises twice.’
‘And that is why I also have to find the scarred man.’
Maida looked away at the mention of the scarred man. Keshik inwardly cursed himself, guessing at her pain.
‘I thought that was you,’ Iskopra said.
‘I don’t think so. There is another man with scars like mine. I think he is somehow the leader of … whatever it is that happened in Vogel.’
‘And you have seen this man?’
‘Yes,’ Maida said. ‘We’ve seen him.’
Keshik looked up sharply at Maida’s tone. It was flat, unemotional and devoid of life. Her eyes were dull as she absently rubbed at the spot between her eyebrows where the Claw had smashed into her. His own pain gripped him, remembering her lifeless face and the hideous gaping wound spilling her blood onto the cold ground. Overlying his pain was the image of a scarred face with a silver eye.
Who are you? What is your role in all this? Even though Maida lives, you are still a dead man.
The aroma of a plate of food placed in front of him set his stomach grumbling. He put his thoughts of vengeance aside and attacked the meal.
When he finished, he pushed the plate aside and looked up to see the others watching him.
Iskopra shook his head. ‘It was not wise to bargain with Cort, Keshik. He is not known for generosity.’
‘You knew him before bringing us here?’
‘Cort? Yes, he has a reputation.’
‘What sort of reputation?’
Iskopra tried to look casual and dismissive, but Keshik thought he could see nervousness.
‘You know the sort: a ruthless man in charge of a small ragtag band of thugs. Thinks he is more dangerous than he is, thinks he is threatening, but is little more than a bully.’
Keshik picked at some food stuck in his teeth as he pondered Iskopra’s words. It was true, he did know the type — had met too many of them in his life. And if he was honest, had killed more than his fair share of them. He had no regrets about those particular deaths. Would this Cort join their number eventually?
Probably.
When Keshik did not answer, Iskopra helped himself to some more food.
With sudden force the door swung open and Cort strode in with the swagger of the overconfident, the ease of the unchallenged rooster in a small pen. Keshik felt anger grow within him as he watched the display.
Enjoy your moments, little cock. Your time might be less than you believe.
‘I think we can come to an arrangement, visitor,’ Cort announced.
Keshik did not respond.
Clearly affronted, Cort stepped closer.
‘I want you to get something for me. In return I will give you a name.’
‘I already have a name,’ Keshik grumbled.
‘You are a funny man, visitor,’ Cort said without smiling. ‘I want you to get a small trinket from a man named Emilengel.’
‘What trinket and where can I find this man?’
Cort handed Keshik a roll of parchment. ‘All you need to know is in here, assuming you can read, of course.’
‘I can read.’
‘Good. Bring me what I want and you will get what you want.’
Keshik took the scroll and rose abruptly to his feet. The movement took Cort by surprise and he stepped back.
‘Nervous, Cort?’ Keshik asked.
Cort shook his head and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.
Keshik sat back down and gestured at one of the servants. ‘I want a drink.’
The servant gave a short bow and went to do as he was bid.
Maida reached over and took the scroll from Keshik. She broke the seal and unrolled it. Her eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed before settling into a satisfied confidence, telling Keshik all he needed to know. The job would be easy. She raised her eyes from the scroll to meet Keshik’s and nodded.
‘Easy,’ she said.
‘When?’
&
nbsp; ‘We need to have a look first, but we could do that tonight. Tomorrow night?’
Keshik nodded as a servant placed a large mug of ale in front of him. He raised it to his lips and drank deeply.
‘Done,’ he said.
The job was simple — break into a man’s home and take a silver box from his library. His home was in a quiet, well-to-do part of the city. Keshik and Iskopra crouched in the shadows opposite the house while Maida examined the house for a way in. She reached a window and Keshik’s heart nearly stopped when she simply pushed it open and climbed inside.
It was only Iskopra’s hand on his arm that stopped him sprinting straight across to join her.
‘Easy,’ Iskopra whispered. With an effort, Keshik stilled his anger before shaking off the Seagull’s hand and settling back to motionless waiting. Maida’s silhouette passed quickly across the window as she left the room in search of the library.
A flicker of light upstairs caught Keshik’s eye. Someone had lit a candle. He watched as the light bobbed, paused, then moved quickly. Whoever was holding it had heard something, or seen something, and was now moving with purpose. That was enough for Keshik. He sprinted across the street and leaped through the window.
As he landed and rolled back up onto his feet, both swords were in his hands. He burst through the door to be confronted by a nightmarish scene.
Maida was pinned to the wall, eyes wide and mouth open in a silent scream as a massive black beast slavered over her. It was feline in structure, but unlike anything Keshik had ever seen or heard of. It was standing up on its hind legs with its forelimbs pressed against Maida’s shoulders.
A ridge of stiff yellow hair ran down its back and a short mane the same colour circled its large head. Huge red eyes turned to look at the interruption. A deep rumble emanated from within the massive body. The beast extended its claws, driving them into Maida’s shoulders before it released its grip to let her slide down the wall, bloody trails appearing on the wall behind her. Maida collapsed, gasps of agony escaping despite her best efforts.
Keshik gave the huge beast a salute with his blades and advanced. The eerie glow from the enchanted weapon seemed to make the monster hesitate, which was all Keshik needed. He drove forwards and slashed with both swords, leaving deep wounds across its head. It yowled in pain and anger and sprang. Keshik was expecting the counterattack and threw himself to the ground, rolling onto his back. He thrust the enchanted sword upwards and ripped the monster’s belly open as it leaped over him.
Hot viscera splashed from the wound. He gagged at the stench and taste while the big feline creature’s yowl shifted up into a screech of agony that shattered the night. Keshik had never heard a sound like it. It rose and swirled like a living thing, tearing at his ears. Despite the danger, he dropped both swords and clamped his hands to his head, trying to shut out the assault, but to no avail. The sound seemed to pass straight through his hands and continue to batter at him unabated. Pain built inside his head, leaving him gasping and writhing on the floor. His body curled in an involuntary spasm before the sound abruptly stopped.
In the silence, Keshik’s ears kept ringing while his muscles ached from the spasm. Gingerly, he straightened and tried to stand, but a heavy paw rested on his chest, forcing him back down.
‘I don’t know you,’ the monster said.
Keshik’s eyes widened in shock at the voice. It was feminine and gentle, at odds with the fearsome, ravaged appearance. As he stared, the wounds started to close of their own accord, stopping the flow.
‘Why are you here?’ it went on.
‘What are you?’ Keshik gasped.
The monster shook its now healed head. ‘You are in no position to ask questions, little man,’ she scolded. As if to make her point, her claws unsheathed partially, digging into his chest. He cried out in pain, but bit the sound off.
‘You are strong. I like that in a man,’ she said. ‘And that sword, the enchanted one. I recognise it. Where did you get it?’
The insanity of carrying on a conversation with this creature suddenly struck Keshik. He lay on his back unarmed in an unknown building, Maida wounded by his side and this… this thing wanted to talk. A smile, unwanted, involuntary, played about his lips. The creature narrowed her glowing red eyes.
‘You are a strange one,’ she purred. ‘I could eat your head with one bite and you find it funny.’
Emboldened by the fact that she had not done so, Keshik returned her stare. Her eyes were not feline. They were totally red with neither iris nor white, while the pupils were blue and oval shaped, rather than the normal vertical slits of cats, and as he held her gaze, they dilated slightly.
‘What are you?’ he repeated.
‘A girl doesn’t need too many questions, strange man,’ she said. ‘I am a lot bigger than you, with these lovely claws and teeth — that should be enough.’ Her mouth moved as she spoke, but the movements did not match the sounds as closely as they would in a human. Her claws moved out slightly again, drawing more blood. Keshik grunted in pain.
‘Did you like that, human?’ she asked.
‘No.’
‘Shame.’ She leaned forwards, resting more of her weight on his chest. Her hot breath washed over his face. She licked him, wiping his face clean of her own blood. Her tongue was raspy and harsh, just like a cat’s. ‘I liked it.’
A door opened and the monster looked up.
‘Tatya!’ a voice snapped. ‘Off!’
With a growl, she stepped off Keshik. The light of a candle cast a yellow glow over the room. Tatya blinked and looked away from the light with a rumble of protest.
The man walked across the room and crouched beside Keshik.
‘Let me guess,’ he said. ‘Cort sent you?’
‘He did.’
‘He wanted you to get that box?’ He pointed to where a silver box rested on a table. It was a plain rectangular box about the size of a hand. ‘Normally, I let Tatya eat Cort’s minions, but I don’t recognise you. Did he tell you what is in the box?’
‘No.’
‘Thought not. He never does.’ The light from the candle danced across his face, illuminating a face of angles and harsh lines. In the inconstant light, it was difficult to guess his age, but Keshik had the impression of youth. His hair was in the disarray of sleep and he wore nightclothes, but despite that, he radiated an air of menace. The man stood.
‘What to do with you?’ he mused. He tapped his teeth with a long, narrow forefinger. ‘Tatya, are you hungry?’
‘No,’ she replied, slightly petulantly.
‘Would you like a new playmate?’
If it were possible for an animal’s mouth to form a smile, Keshik felt sure it would have looked like the expression on Tatya’s face.
‘Really? I can have him?’ she purred.
‘Of course, my pet. Play nicely.’ He went to walk away, but stopped as he saw Maida, apparently for the first time. ‘What’s this?’ he asked. ‘Another one?’
‘I don’t want that one,’ Tatya said. ‘She’s soft.’
‘We come as a pair,’ Keshik said.
The man tapped his teeth again. ‘Fine. Tatya, you can play with them both.’ He blew out the candle and left, closing the door quietly behind him.
‘Now we can play,’ Tatya said. She moved forwards again and opened her huge jaws. Keshik tensed as she gripped his chest, but the agony did not come. She did not exert enough pressure to penetrate, just to hold, lifted him from the floor and padded towards the other door. She carried Keshik up a set of stairs and at the top pushed open a door and went inside.
Keshik was dropped onto the floor.
‘You stay there, human, while I go and get your little friend. And if you are not here when I get back, I will eat her.’ Tatya padded away, not waiting for an answer.
Keshik sat up and looked around. He was not in an animal cage: it was an elegant, if simple, bedroom. He rose to his feet.
‘Bed, wardrobe, table,’ he muttered. A
wareness dawned. Shapeshifter. He had heard of such things, but never met one.
Tatya re-entered with Maida hanging limply in her jaws. She dropped her and pushed the door closed. Maida lay motionless. Keshik made to move towards her, but Tatya stood over her and snarled.
‘She’s mine now, human. You don’t get to play with her any more.’
Keshik stopped.
‘Turn around,’ Tatya instructed. ‘You don’t get to watch this, not yet.’
Keshik obeyed. While his back was turned, a soft wash of silver light filled the room.
‘You can turn around now.’
Tatya stood naked beside Maida. She was obviously a woman, but there were subtle differences that spoke of her non-human nature. Her eyes were still red with blue pupils. Her hair was bright yellow and her fingers ended in nails that were slightly hooked, like claws. Keshik stared at her, trying to discern what else about her screamed inhuman. Certainly she was anatomically female and alluring, but he felt no physical attraction, so powerful was her animal nature.
She stretched luxuriously.
‘We should play,’ she said in a throaty, rich voice.
Keshik flicked his glance down towards Maida’s prone form. Her breathing was steady and even, but she was not unconscious. He guessed what she was planning and hoped she was strong enough.
Tatya saw the direction of his look and hissed. ‘I said she’s mine. If we play nicely, I might let you play with her later. But for now…’ She stepped over Maida’s body and walked across the room to Keshik, her hand reaching out towards him. He did not look down at Maida as he took the proffered hand and allowed himself to be led to the bed.
Maida lay motionless as the woman stepped over her. The pain from her wounds was intense, but she had managed not to cry out when she was dropped.
Slave of Sondelle: The Eleven Kingdoms Page 31