by Raven Oak
“I can’t do that. We need to talk.” Ida braced her arms against the door frame’s sides.
She’s expecting a fight and rightfully so after this little incident. How could the Order send me into such a trap? She charged—not at the woman but the window, hoping to escape the building without harming anyone.
As she reached the window, something hit Adelei in the back of the head. Before she blacked out, Ida faintly mumbled, “Damn, didn’t mean to hit ya that hard.”
The dirt floor confused her, though the room itself reminded Adelei of her old room at the Order. Touching her head with shaking fingers left her muttering curses as her hand came away from the knot bloody. She winced and flexed her muscles slowly. Nothing else hurt, nothing else complained.
“Gonna kill whoever did this,” she muttered, and a chuckle reached her. She leapt to her feet, and the world tilted in a blend of color. Sharp pain in her skull sent her back to the bed.
“You’re not the first one to wish me dead, though I do wish you’d waited for me to finish what I’d been sayin’ before trying to bolt. I’m sorry I hit ya so hard, but ya left me little choice.”
Now I remember. The warrior woman. I’m in Brieghton. Adelei leaned her head gently against the pillow behind her, but the contact sent dizzying waves through her.
“You could’ve let me go. What gives you the right to hold me?” Adelei snarled. This job’s getting off to a great start.
Ida approached—she didn’t tiptoe or mince her steps, which would have raised suspicion. Her boots tromped along the dirt floor with a slight scuffle. Adelei opened a bleary eye to glare at the woman. Her vision swam, and she blinked several times in the dim light.
“Relax, child. If I’d wanted ya dead, I would’ve killed ya while ya were out.” The woman pulled up a chair and fumbled with several items on the table beside the bed. The “torture instruments” Ida held weren’t the expected but instead were crushed herbs floating in bowl of water and a rag.
The warrior’s hands weren’t gentle as she cleaned the knot on Adelei’s head; jagged fingernails occasionally scraped across her scalp, and the herbs stung. She sent a brief prayer to Sharmus, God of healing. Whether it was the herbs or Sharmus himself, the pain subsided from a rampaging bear to a dull throb in a few minutes.
“Now,” said Ida as she wrapped Adelei’s head in a worn cloth, “Before we had the hammer to the head, I was sayin’ that I’m here to escort ya to the King. My job’s to fill ya in on the details as we travel, provided ya don’t flee to the hills.”
Ida didn’t have to give the look, though she did, and a flush crept across Adelei’s face, warming her cheeks and neck. Not only had she allowed herself to be trapped, but she hadn’t gotten the lay of the land before tumbling into said trap. Master Bredych would have had her hide if he had known.
She composed a mask of neutrality and merely shrugged. “You could’ve said as much when you introduced yourself rather than baiting me and leaving me to think I was being cowed into a corner. Hard to break the habits of… mine. You’re lucky you survived the attempt.”
“If I’d have known you’d be so easily trapped, I wouldn’t’ve bothered. I was, after all, expectin’ an Amaskan, and not some green trainee.”
Ida rinsed the rag in the basin, her back to Adelei. She couldn’t tell if it was bravery, stupidity, or just the knowledge that she wasn’t a threat. Dammit. It was the crux of it. She was no threat to anyone. She wasn’t even Amaskan. The warrior left the room, and the sound of running water reached Adelei’s ears. She was like a female version of Master Bredych with a harsher bark.
Ida reappeared in the doorway with a pitcher of ale and two glasses, one of which she offered to Adelei.
“I’m not,” said Adelei.
“Not what?”
“Amaskan. Not anymore.”
“So ya said before.” Ida’s finger touched the healing scar at Adelei’s jaw. “Good, clean cut.”
The Captain nodded at the cup in Adelei’s hands, and Adelei swallowed the watered down liquid in several long draws. The second glass went down slower, and her taut muscles relaxed. “There, now that you’re more balanced, we can have a proper chat,” said the woman.
Adelei ground her teeth, and Ida’s barking laugh could have split her skull in two. Dammit, what’s wrong with me? It were as if every meditation she had ever learned had abandoned her, leaving a knot of tension and doubt in their place. She closed her eyes and pictured the blue sphere in her mind.
Smooth. No flaws. Like an empty vessel, it fills me. Instead of silence and calm, Ida’s continued laughter echoed in her ears, and Adelei shook her head.
A mistake. Pain from the wound lanced her slow breathing, and she gave up. “How do you know so much about the Order? You’re reading me too well, which points to good training. Better training than I like.”
Ida settled down in her chair and poured herself another glass. “It’s a long story, young one. Starts back durin’ the Little War of Three, when I’d just been promoted to captain of the royal guard. Back when I was much younger and a lot less wise.”
The word popped into Adelei’s head, and she blurted out, “What’s a sepier?”
“To put it bluntly, I’m a spy. I do odd tasks for the royal family—whatever’s needed of me.”
“Is the word Alexandrian?”
“No.”
Adelei bit the inside of her cheek. A spy, huh? Makes sense that my escort is in service to the King. She’s certainly old enough to have battled in the Little War of Three. But that doesn’t explain her knowledge of the Order. She could be a threat.
“Seein’s how your head’s probably throbbin’, I’ll give ya the condensed version if ya don’t mind.” When Adelei nodded, the warrior continued. “The King and his late wife had no male heir—just two twin girls. His Majesty sent them away to protect them, but it wasn’t enough. We were losin’ the war when news came of the Queen’s death. Assassins from Shad. Probably Tribor.”
The warrior brought two fingers to the top of her brow and closed her eyes for a minute. That’s a sign to ward off evil, to keep Itova at bay. Lots of people know it—but only those in Sadai who follow Anur’s chosen path. Ida’s hand caressed the hilt of her sword as an afterthought. Still, she was a warrior. Amaskans weren’t the only ones to follow that particular path. It warranted watching.
Despite the drink, Adelei’s parched tongue sat in too dry a mouth, and she swallowed hard as the woman continued. “The poor princess under her own mother’s body for three days, trapped under a rottin’ corpse.”
Ida shuddered and refilled both their glasses. “Even worse was the news that the other princess died tryin’ to reach safety. The king had no choice but to agree to the terms of the peace treaty if he wanted his survivin’ daughter to live.”
Adelei lifted her chin and said, “He sold her for a peace treaty.”
“Ya don’t understand. He’d only the one choice: his child’s hand in marriage or the death of the entire royal family. The death of them all. Right down to the serving staff. Our country would’ve died, leaving an empty shell full of corpses. What would ya have done?”
“I would have fought, and if I’d gone down fighting, at least I would have known it was a good death.”
“There’s no such thing as a good death.” Ida cast haunted eyes about the room.
With three years’ service, Adelei’s own ghosts haunted her. Ghosts she tried to ignore. At least she was serving justice, saving lives. The sharp bitterness spilled across her tongue, and the words tumbled out before she could capture them. “How convenient that his other daughter died. Left Princess Margaret quite the nice package—marriage to a prince, treaties with their sworn enemies. What more could one ask for?”
Ida’s mouth hung open. “Convenient? Is that what those bastards at the Order told ya? He mourned her. He mourns her still.” The warrior slammed her fist on the table beside the bed. The bowl and pitcher clattered together. “One could hard
ly call marriage to a sworn enemy a ‘nice package.’ Use your brain, child.”
“Fine, fine.” Adelei waved a hand in the captain’s direction. “We’ll save the philosophical debates for another day. Could you at least tell me where in the Thirteen Hells I am? I assume we’re still in Brieghton?”
“We’re in my guest quarters. I thought it best to bring ya here.”
Adelei’s head throbbed. What a job. She got to play bodyguard to a spoiled princess, probably without one thought between her ears. And her escort was convinced dear old “dad” had done the best he could. Like hell he did.
If she focused hard enough, she could almost remember him. The fuzzy face that appeared in odd dreams. But thinking on it brought the rest of the visions: herself on horseback, thrown over the saddle at times as the rain poured overhead; crashing thunder and the endless shivering in the cold; and several figures in black, one of which glared at her from beneath his hood. The faces faded over time, and their voices ran together like wine.
There was a woman. She remembered that. The itch reached out, and then it was gone.
“Ya look far away,” Ida whispered.
“I was… remembering the past. Being here, it’s odd. I’m not myself, and the pictures in my head clash together. Makes my head hurt.” Adelei shot Ida a hard smile. “Old dreams can haunt a person.”
“Dreams are but visions of truth and place holders of what our mind calls justice.”
Adelei held her breath a moment. “How do you know the Book of Ja’ahr?”
“Is that what it’s from? I’ve wondered.” Ida stood and gathered up the empty pitcher and bowl from the table. When she left the room, Adelei tried to sit up. The room no longer spun in wild circles, but her headache increased. Just as Adelei swung her feet over the edge of the bed, Ida returned.
“Just where do ya think you’re goin’?”
“I need to empty my bladder if that’s all right with you.”
Ida retrieved a chamber pot from beneath the table. “Here.”
“I’ll wait.” The woman shrugged and returned to her seat next to Adelei. She had no intention of being there long enough to need it. Adelei lay back against the pillow and sighed. “I would appreciate help getting back to my own rooms.”
“It would be safer for you to remain here.”
“Safer? Am I in danger?”
“Ya have to ask?”
“Yes, I do. I—I thought I’d walked into a job I’ve been trained for, and yet here I am in a country whose army looks wholly unprepared for what everyone tells me is coming. I’m being escorted by someone who quotes from the Order and isn’t Amaskan. I’m not sure of anything at this point.” Adelei’s stomach chose that moment to growl audibly, reminding her that she had no clue what time it was. “How long was I out?”
“Approaching midday. I’ll admit, you’ve walked into a nasty situation, that’s for sure. I’d hoped to be on the road today, but it looks like we’ll have to wait for the morrow. In the meantime, I’ll grab us some lunch.”
The woman crossed the room again and ducked through the arch. The sounds of her talking with a guard drifted to Adelei. There was a guard there as well. Great. She’d have to leave through the window.
Ida returned quickly and smirked when Adelei remained in the bed. “Glad to see ya restin’. You’ve got quite the concussion there. Dangerous to go about with that. At least today. And since ya need to be awake for a while still, I’ll do my best to tell ya what I can.”
Adelei sat up in the bed. Information from a spy could be useful indeed.
“At the time of the war, His Majesty, King Leon, worried that the peace treaty was a trap. In the event the castle should fall and his family be taken prisoner or killed, he needed to know that at least one of the royal family would survive.”
At least he was smart enough to know a trap when he saw one. To the warrior, she said, “Makes sense. If a battle’s coming, family is in the way if you’re lucky and a casualty if you’re not.”
“That’s a fairly callous outlook,” Ida said, surprising Adelei. “Warrior and veteran I am, but blood is important. Family makes us who we are, would ya not agree?”
“Family does have a hand in shaping us, yes, but when it comes to the job, everyone is expendable.”
“Even family?”
“Especially family.”
Ida didn’t laugh. Instead she buried her nose in her mug as if communing with it. “I can see why you’re the best,” she whispered. “To be so hardened so young though.”
The quiet settled between them. Like the sea back home. Calm until a good squall whipped it into a fury of choppy waves and tides. Ida would never understand the necessity of Adelei’s words. Soldier and warrior Ida might be, but she was no Amaskan. She can never understand what it means to follow our code or to sacrifice everything for justice.
As if she heard Adelei’s thoughts, Ida spoke again, “Ya think I don’t understand the path ya walk, but I say ya don’t either. Ya don’t know what you’ve walked into, nor where it’ll take ya. The King believed he was doin' the best to protect his family. It was a tough decision and one ya could learn from.”
Adelei itched to add that the bastard then sold his daughters, each to their own prisons, but she held her tongue. Her jaw popped with a yawn that near split her head in half.
“Your horse’s being well-looked after, and your belongin’s have been moved here at my order. I think ya could safely get some rest now, if ya like.” Ida plopped a stool in front of her chair and stretched out with her feet propped up. The warrior pulled a book off the table. Whether she read it or not, Adelei couldn’t tell. The woman’s eyes didn’t move much, but she turned the pages at steady intervals.
Looks like she doesn’t trust me to stay put. Adelei stifled another yawn. Dammit, I got plenty of sleep last night. Damned head wounds.
She tried closing her eyes, but behind them her mind raced. The King was told Adelei was dead, but that was a lie. Maybe he had told people that. Guilty conscience and all. Besides, what would this Ida know? Sepier or not, she was hardly the King’s ear.
While the thoughts plagued her, the wound on her scalp pounded. Like hoof beats on that dark night.
CHAPTER SIX
Brieghton Border Garrison; 255 Cercian 3rd
No matter how tolerable sleep had made the concussion, there were some things sleep couldn’t fix. Her temper for one. Especially if Ida didn’t stop staring at her.
The warrior woman sat on a stool, her legs crossed and propped up as she waited for Adelei to finish breakfast. When Adelei had entered the small living area of the guest house, Ida’s plate had already been empty, as well as her ale mug—though she showed little sign of drinking to excess. Adelei’s own plate held a mix of bread, fruits, and a few dried pieces of meat.
She straddled the small bench and grabbed for the hunk of bread, which she wrapped around the dried meat. Even then, her mouth twisted in disgust at the taste. Ten days of tough, dried-out jerky had left her wishing for time to hunt a proper meal. As she chewed, Ida Warhammer stared.
Adelei chased down the old venison with a bite of a juicy pompaello fruit whose seeds she spit onto her plate. The fist-sized, green fruit didn’t last long, and she licked her fingers clean. Still Ida stared.
As she tore off another hunk of bread, she ignored Ida’s furrowed brow, but the fifth frown stopped her mid-bite. “Is there something about me that you find displeasing?”
A flush spread across Ida’s face. “You’re all Amaskan, all right.”
“I already told you—former Amaskan. Besides, what’s that got to do with anything?”
“I can’t help but wonder if you’re capable of playin’ body double to Her Highness. Your manners leave a lot to be desired.”
This time when Adelei grabbed a piece of fruit, she let the juice run down her fingers to her wrist as she squeezed it. “This is excellent fruit,” she said, and she slurped loudly as she cleaned up the juice by way o
f her tongue. Ida sighed but didn’t comment further.
“I’m trained well enough to know how to act when need calls for it. Right now, I need to eat breakfast so we can get on the road already, a task that would go much faster without you staring at me as if you’re waiting for me to wipe my arse on the table.”
The warrior’s chuckle was half growl, and she massaged her throat. “Point taken.”
When Adelei had woken up that morning, her jaw had still ached from the knowledge that she’d fallen asleep and missed her opportunity to flee her escort, but once she’d seen the abundance of food, she’d decided to stick around. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could get into Alesta on her own without being accosted.
“What did the Order tell ya about Her Highness?” asked Ida.
“Mostly idle gossip from the few towns I crossed through on the way here. She’s flighty and fanciful and possesses a cow’s brains. Pretty enough on the eyes but nothing betwixt them. Completely in love with life but never having experienced it.” Adelei aimed for a bored monotone but failed, the last of her words spoken with more bite than she’d anticipated.
“And I take it ya don’t approve?”
Adelei shrugged. “Who am I to tell a princess how to live? If she wishes to choose stupidity over intellect, so be it. It’s no skin off my back.”
“But it is,” said Ida, who leaned across the table. Her rancid breath tickled Adelei’s nose. “If you’re to guard her, how she lives is your concern and could mean ‘the skin off your back’ as ya put it.”
Her ears burned, but Adelei merely shrugged. Most people didn’t live long enough to intrude on the personal space of an Amaskan. Most people didn’t even try. Her gut told her to pin the warrior to the stone floor and find out her angle. Something was afoot. Patience would gain her better access, even if she did want to add another scar-line across Ida’s throat.
“If you’re to guard the Princess, to serve as a body double, you’ll need to act like a princess. So far, what I’ve seen is a youngling with too short a temper. Does Master Bredych no longer teach meditation?”