THE SHADOWLORD

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  The Prelate of Justice sat astride his mount as Sekhem Neter headed toward him. "Everything under control Sekhem?"

  The Chief Temple Guard looked to where Jaelan lay. "I made sure Ben-Ashaman would not escape."

  "Did he put up much resistance?"

  "He knew he was outnumbered," Sekhem bragged.

  "Liar! You shot him in the back, you sniveling coward!" Aluino shouted, his accusation echoed by the remaining Death Lords.

  "We were never given a chance to fight!" one Death Lord said.

  Gehenna laughed. "He'll have plenty of time to fight in Ghurn." He bent over in the saddle. "Have your second-in-command take the Shadowlord's men to Abbadon. On the way, make sure they closely inspect the cliffs at Kharonis."

  Sekhem smiled brutally. "As you wish, Milord." He nodded toward the villagers. "What of them?"

  "Put them to the sword. Every man, woman, and child." He searched the crowd. "I do not see the one called Samiel. Where is he?"

  Fear passed over Sekhem's face. "We've not been able to find him. I'm told he was not in the village when we arrived."

  "Find him!" Gehenna barked. "I want nothing left alive in this place when we take Ben-Ashaman to Ghurn Colony. I want it put about that he and his men slew the villagers and I ordered the Death Lords executed for daring such evil."

  "We're not going to live to insult one another again," Aluino said out of the side of his mouth.

  "You reckon?" Tarsis pulled at the iron manacles that clamped his elbows together and refused to wince at the pain.

  "Though I have no love for the people of this village, I hate to see them butchered." Aluino looked toward the cache of weapons, taken from him and the Death Lords. "Especially with my own sword!"

  A groan from Jaelan drew Gehenna's attention. The Prelate of Justice climbed down from his horse, tugging the expensive leather gloves from his hands. He nudged the Shadowlord with his boot. "Are you awake?" he inquired in a pleasant voice.

  Jaelan's amber eyes opened, closed, then opened again as he struggled to swim his way up through whatever undulating waves of fever had him in steel talons.

  Gehenna swept aside his robe and hunkered down. "Do you know where you are?"

  Jaelan tried to get up, but the effort nearly pushed him over the edge into darkness. His shoulder throbbed unmercifully. Though the arrow had been removed, the iron head had broken off and the wound seeped blood.

  "I imagine that hurts." Gehenna wiggled what was left of the wooden bolt. The gasp that issued from the Shadowlord's throat seemed to please the Prelate. "Aye, I can see it does."

  "Another rider," Tarsis said.

  "Samiel," Aluino sighed. "I had hoped he would not return."

  Tarsis looked at the younger man. "Is he the rebel contact here?"

  Aluino shrugged. "You might as well know, since none of us are going to live to tell of it."

  "By the Prophet's beard," Tarsis said after a low whistle. "I thought the old man hated Jael as much as the rest of the village."

  "The old man loves his son. It was best the villagers thought he didn't."

  "And Jaelan is Asim?"

  "For what good that knowledge will do you, old man."

  Tarsis sniffed. "The bantling could have told me. I can keep a secret."

  "He wanted you safe."

  "Didn't care about you, though, did he?" Tarsis chuckled.

  "That may be the Shadowlord's sire," Sekhem said, pointing at the billowing dust moving toward them from the East.

  "Wait until we have him, too, before you set my orders in motion," Gehenna said. "I want Jaelan to witness the deaths of the three he cares for the most, outside the female."

  A shudder ran through Jaelan. He opened his eyes wide, digging his hands into the hot sand to try to stay awake. In his heart, he knew none of them would survive unless he could fight the poison or bargain with Gehenna. He opened his mouth to speak, but Sekhem Neter's next words shocked him so badly, he nearly pitched into unconsciousness.

  "That's not the old man," Sekhem gasped. "It's Ben-Ashaman's Amazeen!"

  * * * *

  Aradia rode as fast as the sleek Rysalian stallion could gallop. The animal's powerful muscles, its heavy hoofs and long stride, ate up the distance between her and the village. The closer she got to Uadjit, the deeper the fear grew in her belly. Her hands clenched the reins as she bent forward over the neck of the sleek mount. For the first time in her life, with knees pressing firmly, heels drumming against the sweating flanks, she found herself locked in a battle with destiny and fate.

  She could make out familiar faces of some of the villagers, but their expressions denied recognition. Only the Temple Guards turned decisive eyes toward her, swords raised to block her entry.

  "Stand down!" a gruff voice shouted.

  Aradia realized the order had been given to allow her approach. Reluctantly, Temple Guards moved out of her way, though they glared as she galloped past.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sekhem Neter and knew the man standing beside him must be Gehenna Dakar. Their ill-disguised gloats reminded her of her cat, Bitsy, when it cornered a mouse.

  She saw Jaelan's men chained and frowned when she also noted Alunio and Tarsis manacled. Then she saw her husband, lying in blood, his wide amber eyes staring at the sky.

  "Jaelan!" she screamed.

  Acting without thought, she sawed brutally on the stallion's reins, bringing him to a rearing stop. His shrill whinny of protest cut through the air along with his flailing hooves. Like a skilled acrobat, Aradia flipped backward from the mount and landed on her feet, knees flexed, hands in front of her.

  A guard chuckled. "You're just in time to entertain us, wench! Come here and let me show you what a real man can do!"

  Ignoring the jibe and the coarse male laughter that accompanied it, Aradia ran to her husband's and knelt beside him. His fixed stare broke her heart. She threw herself over his chest, her wail of despair bringing a loud cry of anguish from the restrained Death Lords.

  The faint movement of breath against her neck broke the grief shattering her heart. Aradia straightened, staring into his pale face. His slow blink became the most precious thing she'd ever seen.

  "Praise Alluvia!" she whispered, tears flooding her eyes. "I thought you were dead."

  "He might as well be, you useless woman." Dakar smirked as he made a motion with his hand. "He's lost to you!"

  A rough hand on her arm yanked her to her feet. She knew an instant of savagery that would have made her ancestors proud. Even as the guard jerked her away from her husband, her free hand, her blade hand, went to the sheath at her hip and came away with gleaming steel. Pivoting on her left foot, she buried the dagger to the hilt in the gut of the man who dared touch her. She ripped her weapon upward in her attacker's belly, spilling the screaming man's innards as she pushed him away, pulling her blade free.

  Another guard rushed her, howling in agony as her dagger opened a deep gash across his chest. He dropped his sword and fell.

  A third guard stumbled away minus a hand after Aradia hooked a toe under the fallen guard's sword, kicked it into the air, grabbed the hilt, and made effective use of the bloody weapon with a backward swing.

  "Take her!" Dakar shouted. "I want her alive!"

  Five guards rushed forward, eyes blazing, intent on capturing her. Two met the sweeping slash of Aradia's sword, heads rolling beneath the stomping hooves of her mount as the stallion became frenzied by the smell of blood. Another man found himself impaled upon her sword's steel tip, his look of astonishment almost comical.

  "You're mine, bitch!" the fourth guard promised as he and his partner circled Aradia.

  Aradia barely noticed as the guard began to levitate. She noted his astonishment, and in her heart, realized someone just as vicious as she dealt with that enemy. Her narrowed gaze went to the fifth guard, nervously licking his lips.

  "You'd best make your Peace with the Wind, little man," she taunted her opponent, "for you are abo
ut to meet the Gatherer."

  The guard backed away, alternating his twitching gaze from the point of Aradia's dagger to the feet of his partner, disappearing upward and out of sight. He swallowed loudly, seemingly oblivious to the goading of his fellow guards encouraging him to rush Aradia. He made a half-hearted feint here and there, but jumped backward, well away from the negligent swath of the blade aimed at him.

  "Are you going to fight or run, towel head?" Aradia inquired.

  The shriek of the elevating man as he slammed earthward broke the fifth guard's courage. He threw down his sword and ran, hopping over his partner's broken body and sprinting into the desert.

  "Five hundred quilons to the man who brings her down!" Dakar bellowed to the remaining guards. "And her body to you for as long as she draws breath!"

  Without a second thought, Aradia flipped over her dagger so that the business end pointed toward her and lay expertly in her palm. She released the deadly missile with undeniable accuracy. It sailed through the air, landing with a wet thud in Gehenna Dakar's chest. The evil one dropped to his knees, his hands clawing at his torso.

  "No man save the Shadowlord takes me!" Aradia rushed forward and jerked a new blade from the sheath of a dead Temple Guard.

  "Kill her, Neter!" Dakar mumbled, bloody froth forming on his lips before he pitched face-down into the sand.

  His eyes wide with fear, Sekhem Neter raised his war maul. But the whisper of a second blade that seemed to materialize out of nowhere made swift passage into his spine. The coward collapsed like a felled bird and shrieked like a young girl.

  Aradia realized her husband's supernatural power had hurled the blade into Neter's back. She glanced his way as swords and daggers, mauls and caltrops, pikes and crossbows flew through the air like flimsy paper and turned in a whirlwind. Swirling above their heads, the weapons posed a lethal threat to the Temple Guards, now weaponless. Scrambling away from the deadly twister, they pushed one another aside to flee the impending doom.

  Laughing, Aradia hunkered down beside her husband. She put her trembling hands on his cheeks. "Best cast those weapons far from here, warrior."

  With the last of his strength, Jaelan flung the weapons miles away into the desert, and with the effort, nearly succumbed to the darkness creeping up on him.

  "Protect them, aziza..."

  "The guards?" Aradia asked. "I'd just as soon--"

  "My people. Neter's men have been ordered to put them to death. If even one guard remains alive, others will come back and slay every villager."

  "Be quiet, warrior. You're--"

  "They're mine to protect, Aradia...thus they are your duty, as well. See to them, Milady...I've done all I can..."

  Seeing the worry on his face overrode the fury pulsing through Aradia's heart. Left to her own devices, she would've allowed Dakar's men to slay the villagers. But Jaelan's concern, his fear for those who had shunned him, tugged at her conscience. She looked at the guards slipping steadily toward the villagers.

  "Stop those guards!" Aradia shouted at the people of Uadjit, who stared with glazed eyes. "Are you not Asim's men? Are you not rebels? Fight for your freedom! Fight for your lives!"

  "They're under my control!" Healer Hajib Kielos said with a gloating note. He spoke, half-crouching, from the safety of a doorway. "They will not--"

  Aradia stood to face him, her eyes wide with the fever of battle. Her hands clenched and unclenched at her sides as she took a warning step toward him. Her lips drew back over gnashing teeth, bared like those of a weretigress ready to pounce.

  "Release your hold on them, or you'll die a thousand deaths before I'm finished with you!" Aradia said.

  "I'll do nothing of the kind." The Healer crossed his arms over his chest and grinned hatefully.

  "Then die, you piece of offal!"

  With the flick of her hand, Aradia hurled her borrowed dagger through the air. With an admonishing pout on his face, the Healer looked down at the blade's handle protruding from his chest, then slid to his ass in the doorway. His large head soon fell to a chest that had ceased to draw breath.

  "Awake, people of Uadjit!" Aradia shouted. "Save yourselves!"

  Jaelan tried to gain his wife's attention, but she didn't hear his feeble words over the Temple Guards' war cry as they turned to attack the hapless villagers with their bare hands. He felt consciousness slowing leaving him, and knew if he allowed himself to sink into the black void, the people of Uadjit would be doomed, and perhaps his wife and friends as well.

  A dark shape shot past Tarsis' line of vision, stunning him. He blinked, flinching, then saw the huge raven land atop the wall beside him. He stared into the bird's beady eyes and found he could not look away. In the space of a heartbeat, something passed between the bird and the old warrior. Tarsis shuddered, then looked at Aradia.

  "Milady!" he yelled. "Jaelan's trying to tell you something!"

  Aradia bent over her husband so she could hear his words.

  "Command them in the name of the Prophet," he whispered. "Bid them awake in the name of Aleli." His eyelids fluttered and he passed out, blood oozing from the side of his mouth.

  "No!" Aradia shrieked, fearing she had lost him.

  Coming to her feet like an avenging angel, she pointed a lethal finger toward the villagers. "Awake, you whoring sons of bitches and worthless dams of dogs! In the name of the Prophet Aleli! Wake and defend yourselves, for I care not if you live or die!"

  As though coming up from the depths of a bad dream, the villagers appeared to shake off the spell. They stumbled against one another, righted themselves, then seemed to recognize the danger coming at them.

  With a belated grunt of protest, they met the Temple Guards head-on, attacking them with whatever lay near at hand--hoes and scythes, hammers and axes, loose building stones and chords of wood. They bludgeoned their would-be killers, struck them down, caved in their heads, letting blood flow in horrid fountains. They broke limbs, severed throats, punctured chests in a frenzy of butchery that would likely make them question their sanity later.

  At that moment, Samiel Ben-Ashaman appeared, gasping for breath, sweat glistening on his face. He rushed to Alunio, struck the shackles from the Diabolusian's arms, and told him to see to Sir Tarsis.

  "Where were you, old man?" Alunio grumbled, chaffing the bruised flesh of his wrists.

  "Be glad I arrived at all, warthog." Samiel moved on to the Death Lords, set the first one free, then joined his people in their savage war.

  "Milady..." Jaelan whispered, his grating voice cacthing Aradia's ear over the din of destruction.

  "I thought you were dead," she sobbed, touching her lips to his.

  "I think...I was..." he said hoarsely. The fever had climbed so high, he felt on fire. The poison raced through his veins, his body hovering on the brink of convulsions. He hurt so badly, he clamped his jaws to keep from crying out. "I need...need help, aziza..."

  "We've got to get him back to Abbadon," Tarsis said, rushing forward with Alunio.

  "But they'll still send him to prison," Alunio protested.

  "What choice do we have?" Tarsis asked. "Would you rather he dies?"

  "You can not take him back to that vile place," Aradia said.

  "Lady," Tarsis said, kneeling beside her. "Medicine there will help combat a second poisoning of Maiden's Briar. If he's not given the antidote within the next hour or two, you might be a widow come morning."

  Aradia looked at Tarsis, then turned her tearful gaze to Alunio. "Can you not ride back for the brew?"

  "And risk losing time?" Tarsis said. "No, sweeting. We must return him to the fortress if he's to survive."

  "See that column?" Samiel asked, joining them and pointing toward riders heading their way. "Do you want to wait to see if they're friend or foe?"

  Aradia, Tarsis, and Alunio looked at the wavering cloud of dust.

  "We'll take him to Abbadon," Tarsis declared, hefting the unconscious Shadowlord into his arms. "That's the only solution."
<
br />   Aradia sensed the riders advancing were friendly, but couldn't chance her husband's life. With the Temple Guards slain, Dakar, his henchmen Neter, and the Healer standing before the Seat of Judgment, no tales would be taken back to Abbadon. Jaelan would be as safe as she could make him until they could settle the question of his imprisonment at Ghurn.

  "Lady, quickly!" Samiel had corralled a mount for her, but she shook her head.

  "I have a horse." She lifted her fingers to her lips, whistling shrilly for the stallion upon which she had entered the godforsaken village. When the feisty animal trotted obediently to her, she vaulted into the saddle.

  Samiel mounted the horse he had reserved for her, while Alunio settled on his own stallion, then accepted an unconscious Jaelan from Tarsis.

  "Don't let him fall," Tarsis ordered.

  "Look after yourself, old man," Alunio grumbled, cradling Jaelan against him.

  * * * *

  As the four horses galloped out of Uadjit, Sekhem Neter laboriously pulled himself along in the sand. His elbows dug deep with each straining movement. From the waist down, his body lay as dead as a hunk of petrified wood, his useless legs leaving twin furrows on the desert floor.

  After escaping the wrath of the infuriated villagers as he hid behind a water trough, he struggled to put as much distance between himself and the carnage as his paralyzed body would grant.

  And with every agonized inch he crawled, he plotted the agonies he would visit upon Aradia Ben-Ashaman when next they met.

  Epilogue

  * * *

  As taken from the Scrolls of Miraman:

  "The Shadowlord's woman, Princess Aradia Lykopis of Amazeen, First daughter of the Defense Queen, came to the aid of her husband with all the might of her warrioress ancestry pulsing within her stalwart heart.

  "Though the might of the Brotherhood of the Domination was allied against the lovers, the Prophet and His Lady wove a web of concern around them. Such would be the cast of the troubles that kingdoms would tremble and the Kings upon their thrones shudder with fear.