Scarred Man

by Bevan McGuiness

  ‘Please go in, Lady.’

  Myrrhini went in. She stopped when she heard the door close and lock behind her, but then continued to the end of the corridor. On opening that door, she found the bathroom. A smile formed as she breathed in the rich aromas of oils and soaps. The water was already hot, presumably drawn by the other ‘guest’ of the Agents of the Blindfolded Queen. She made her way back along the corridor to the other door and pushed it open.

  ‘Get out of here!’ a voice shrieked at her the moment the door swung open.

  Myrrhini stood for a moment, shocked and unsure. The flame-haired woman standing half naked in front of the closet stared at her, her cries of protestation dying on her lips.

  ‘What are you staring at, princess?’ the woman snapped.

  Myrrhini gaped, still unsure what to say.

  ‘I guess you are the other “guest” of the Blindfolded Queen, then,’ she went on.

  ‘I am, I guess.’

  ‘Come in, then.’

  Myrrhini stepped into the room and closed the door behind her. Still the other woman made no attempt to dress or cover herself. Her skin was pale, but darker than Myrrhini’s own, and the white lines of numerous old scars criss-crossed her chest. There was an unhealed wound, high on her chest, that was recent. Myrrhini felt a twinge of sympathetic pain at the sight of the angry red injury that marred her shoulder. The woman saw the direction of Myrrhini’s gaze and raised her hand to the wound.

  ‘They don’t like me much,’ she said by way of explanation.

  ‘How did that happen?’

  ‘They shot me when I tried to run away.’

  Myrrhini remembered her own escape from the Place of the Acolytes, and wondered how far she would have come had she been shot like that.

  ‘Have you been here long?’ Myrrhini asked.

  The red-headed woman shrugged. ‘A while. Waiting for you, I think.’

  ‘For me?’

  ‘So Mixcoatl tells me.’

  Myrrhini shook her head. ‘They said you were dangerous.’ She narrowed her eyes before adding, ‘And prettier than me.’

  ‘I am.’ She smiled. ‘Well, the dangerous part, at least. What’s your name?’

  Myrrhini hesitated a moment before answering. ‘Onaven.’

  ‘I’m Maida. Welcome to captivity.’

  The way she said it, so simple, so unaffected, made Myrrhini laugh.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  ‘I guess you want a bath.’

  ‘Is it that obvious?’ Myrrhini said.

  ‘Onaven, you stink.’

  Myrrhini could not keep the expression of shocked hurt off her face, and Maida went on, ‘But not as badly as I did when I got here. One of the Agents came into my room to tell me how much I stank.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘It’s one of the benefits of travelling rough. And by the looks of you, you’ve been doing it very rough for quite a while. The bath’s at the end of the corridor. I drew one for me, but you need it more than I do.’

  ‘Oh.’ Myrrhini thought about this and another thought occurred to her. ‘But if the Agents can come into our room, why were you …’

  ‘Standing around like this?’

  Myrrhini nodded.

  ‘When I have no weapons left, I always have this one.’ Maida indicated her barely clad body. ‘And I can use this one well when I have to.’

  Myrrhini looked at the pale-skinned woman. She was wearing only flimsy underwear that left her mostly uncovered. The way the garments revealed more than they hid, enhancing rather than obscuring, showed that Maida was skilled in the use of her natural weapons. Her mind went back to Hinrik. ‘You mean you …?’ She could not finish the sentence.

  ‘If I have to, yes.’

  ‘I think I’ll have my bath.’

  Myrrhini left the room quickly and made her way towards the bathroom. Once there, she undressed, taking care to hide the dagger she still carried beneath the pile of clothes. She took the little bag containing the dried daven and carried it with her to the bath. With a happy smile, she selected some fragrant herbs and soaps and slipped into the warm water, placing the daven pouch on the floor beside the bath. The woman Maida already confused her. To start with, she was beautiful, with a body that would entice men easily. And one that she would use. Myrrhini shuddered as she contemplated doing … that, for some manipulative purpose. She considered her own body with its bony knees, knobbly elbows, narrow hips, small breasts and pasty skin. Would any man desire her? Could she do that, even if she had to? Could she use this body as the sort of weapon Maida did? What could she ever want badly enough to do … that? There was also something oddly familiar about Maida, but surely she could never have seen her before.

  The door swung open.

  ‘I thought you might want some other clothes, too,’ Maida said. She was dressed and had her arms full of clothes that she dumped unceremoniously on the floor. She sniffed at the pile of Myrrhini’s old, travel-stained clothes. ‘I’ll burn these for you.’ At Myrrhini’s look, she paused. ‘I burned mine, too.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Didn’t I tell you, I stank.’

  ‘You did, yes.’

  ‘So did my clothes.’ Without another word, she picked up Myrrhini’s clothes and carried them towards the fire. As she walked, the dagger fell out, landing with a metallic clank on the floor. ‘Well, well,’ she said. ‘This is better.’

  Maida dropped Myrrhini’s clothes into the fire and then picked up the dagger. She tested its edge with a practised thumb and hefted it with a skilled hand.

  ‘Nice blade,’ she said. ‘Where did you get it?’

  ‘I took it off a dead man,’ Myrrhini said.

  ‘Did you kill him?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Good for you. How did you kill him?’

  ‘I stabbed him with an arrow.’

  Maida raised her eyebrows speculatively. ‘Never killed a man like that.’

  ‘Have you killed many men?’

  Maida nodded. ‘I have. You?’

  Myrrhini shook her head.

  ‘Just the one?’ When Myrrhini said nothing, she sighed. ‘Just the one, then.’ She looked at where Myrrhini lay still in the bath, covered with bubbles and with fragrant leaves floating on the surface, and sighed again. ‘I will leave you to your bath.’

  Myrrhini did not watch Maida leave. She could guess what she thought of her: a weakling; a soft woman who had only ever killed one man, even if it was with an arrow. All the more reason to keep her true identity a secret.

  She allowed herself to sink beneath the surface, soaking her filthy, tangled hair. When she drifted back to the top again, she started the long task of washing her hair.

  Myrrhini allowed her hair to hang loose while she sorted through the pile of clothes Maida had left her. She found some that fitted and put them on, hiding the dagger carefully close to her skin before regarding herself in the mirror. A woman who bore little outward resemblance to the Eye of Varuun stared back at her, but Myrrhini could not identify what was different. Her eyes were the same colour, her hair was the same — if less well groomed — the figure was the same, but she was different.

  ‘Still ugly, though,’ she muttered as she hid the pouch containing the dried leaves and berries once more beneath the demure neckline of the dress.

  The door to their shared room was closed when she returned. She pushed it open and went inside. To her surprise, the Agent Patecoatl was sitting on the bed beside Maida. He had his arm around her waist and was talking in low, earnest tones. When Myrrhini came in, he leapt to his feet.

  ‘Lady,’ he said. ‘I am …’

  ‘I know who you are,’ Myrrhini interrupted. ‘And I think I know what you are doing.’

  ‘I should leave,’ he said to Maida, who gave a wry smile and nodded. He bowed slightly to Myrrhini and left quickly.

  ‘Well done, Onaven,’ Maida said when they heard the outer door close.

  ‘What?’

 
; ‘Now he thinks he has been caught and will be nervous. All the better.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘If we are to escape, we will need his help. It will take a while, but I think we will get there.’

  ‘But I don’t want to escape.’

  Maida stared at Myrrhini with anger. ‘You what?’

  ‘You heard me.’

  ‘You like being a prisoner?’

  ‘Not really, but it is much better than what has happened to me recently.’

  Maida continued to stare, as if utterly disbelieving. ‘How is that possible? Being a captive can never be better than being free, no matter how harsh freedom might be.’

  Myrrhini dismissed Maida’s words as meaningless. The woman clearly did not know what she had been through or what she had to do. It also did not matter what she thought. Myrrhini had to go to the Blindfolded Queen. What Maida wanted to do was of no importance when compared to that.

  Maida stared at Myrrhini for a while before she sat back down on the edge of her bed and waved her hand at the table.

  ‘While you were in the bath, he brought some food.’

  Myrrhini smelt fresh bread and jam. She saw the steaming cups, the bowl of fruit.

  ‘They are looking after us, aren’t they?’

  Maida scowled as she crunched on a piece of fruit, the juice trickling down her chin. Myrrhini sat at the table and selected some food to put on her plate. She watched Maida eat. Even scowling, with fruit juice smeared on her mouth, the woman was quite lovely. Myrrhini had never seen hair that colour before and she was entranced by the way it caught the sunlight that streamed in through the window. Maida’s startling green eyes flashed with anger as she looked up and saw Myrrhini watching her.

  ‘What are you staring at, princess?’ she snarled.

  ‘You,’ Myrrhini said. ‘You are beautiful.’

  ‘Try not to be so surprised. We slags from the gutter can look good, you know.’

  ‘I never called you anything like that.’

  ‘You’re thinking it. They all do.’

  ‘I’m not, Maida,’ Myrrhini assured her.

  ‘Shut up and enjoy your captivity. I won’t bother you with my presence much longer.’

  Myrrhini could not think of anything to say, so she bowed her head and ate, as the sun sank towards the horizon, sending shafts of golden light in through the barred window. Already, she felt that Maida’s dismissal of her had shifted into active dislike, but she had lived with disdain and hatred all her life. She could cope with that.

  Maida ignored her for the rest of the evening until she started undressing for bed. When she was clad only in her flimsy underwear, she turned and faced Myrrhini.

  ‘I might get lucky tonight,’ she hissed. ‘That Agent thinks he has won my heart and will probably come to claim his prize. If you want to see the morning, pretend to sleep and pay no attention to what happens. Understand?’

  Myrrhini nodded.

  ‘If you change your mind and want to come with me, be ready. If it happens, it will happen quickly. I won’t wait, or slow down. If you come, you keep up and stay quiet.’

  Again, Myrrhini could not think of anything to say. Her heart pounded as images of what might happen this night flickered through her mind. Could she stay silent while Maida first seduced the Agent and then … what? Would Maida kill him? Could she watch it happen and do nothing?

  A guilty sense of excitement crept into her. Watch? Watch Maida couple with that handsome Agent? Could she watch that happen? She blushed, knowing she could lie in her bed, pretending sleep while watching that happen. Shame filled her. How could she be so perverse? The shame built as she slipped out of her own clothes and climbed into her bed. She was actually trembling.

  Maida extinguished the lanterns in the room, and just as the last one guttered and went out, she gave Myrrhini a hard look. ‘Of course, you can always join in if you get tired of just listening,’ she said. In the moment before the light vanished entirely, Maida must have seen the look on Myrrhini’s face. She chuckled, a low throaty sound. ‘I thought not, Onaven.’ In the dark Myrrhini heard Maida pad across the room and slide in between her own sheets. ‘And just as well, too,’ she muttered.

  Myrrhini lay awake as the moons slowly wound their way up the sky, so close now as they ushered in the new Crossing. She watched as their light spread across the room, softly illuminating her newest prison. Certainly it was one of the better ones, even if she was sharing it with Maida. Across the room, her fellow captive lay still, breathing steadily but probably not asleep. A movement at the window caught her eye. She looked across quickly enough to see a large rodent scamper inside and shuddered. It had most likely been attracted by the scent of the uneaten food. She was about to get up and chase it outside when she heard the sound of the outer door being opened.

  ‘Now just keep quiet,’ Maida hissed.

  Soft footsteps approached their door and it slowly opened. In the moons’ light, Patecoatl stood in the doorway.

  ‘Maida,’ he whispered.

  Maida gasped as if taken by surprise by his audacity.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ she said breathlessly.

  Lying silent and motionless in her own bed, Myrrhini almost laughed out loud in disbelief. How could anyone be fooled by that?

  Clearly Patecoatl was. He swept into the room to kneel beside Maida’s bed and took her hand in his.

  ‘I had to come,’ he all but sighed. ‘I couldn’t bear to think of you locked up in here.’

  ‘Well, you know what you can do about that.’

  ‘I can’t just release you. You know that.’

  ‘It’s all I want, all I need.’

  ‘I thought …’ Patecoatl did not finish the sentence.

  Myrrhini had to clench her teeth together to prevent herself from bursting out in laughter. Was the man such an idiot? How could he not see what she was doing?

  What happened next made her reconsider her opinion of him. When Maida sat up in bed, allowing the blankets to fall away from her near-naked body, he rose slightly to embrace and kiss her. Maida returned his caresses with fervour. He stood up and allowed her to wrestle his clothes from his body before lifting the covers and climbing into bed with her.

  Perhaps he knows exactly what game she is playing, and is simply playing along.

  Myrrhini tried not to listen to the sounds of passion and the whispered words of endearment, but could not block them out. She did not dare move, unless she reminded Patecoatl that there was another person in the room with them, as he had so clearly forgotten. The sounds of their lovemaking grew in intensity until Maida cried out. Myrrhini blushed hot and red in her own bed and looked away.

  She had forgotten the rodent that had scurried in earlier and in the moons’ light she saw it again, sitting on the table with its head cocked to one side as if concentrating on the activities going on in the bed. When Maida cried out again, it moved swiftly, leaping from the table onto the floor.

  The moment its claws touched the ground, it changed. Myrrhini could not help but scream in terror as the rodent shifted before her eyes, becoming a huge black cat with a stiff yellow mane. It roared and sprang onto the bed. Patecoatl had barely time to roll off Maida to see his death land on his chest, its claws raking, its gaping jaws closing on his face. Blood splattered across the room, some landing hot and heavy on Myrrhini’s face. Both women screamed as Patecoatl’s lifeless body fell to the ground, slashed and ripped, bitten and torn by the massive black feline who now stood over the body, dripping blood, a savage growl rumbling in its chest.

  Maida stopped screaming and stared hard at the cat. Incredibly, she rose from her bed and approached it.

  ‘Tatya?’ she said. ‘Is that you?’

  25

  The City of the Wall loomed over Keshik as he ran towards it. He knew the base was dotted with caverns and fissures, but that all of the entrances were guarded from within, above and on every side. The one time he had sought entr
ance before, he had come with a small merchant caravan, seeking trade with the secretive Wall dwellers.

  They had entered what felt like a cave, but was in fact a carved entrance hall. At regular intervals along either side, in the floor and overhead, there were narrow slits, through which light shone fitfully. Keshik had not needed to hear the occasional scrape of metal against stone or the creak of bows being drawn to know that they were being tracked by alert guards. At the massive, ancient doors, their requests for entrance were refused once, and then their knocking was not again heeded. For two days the desperate merchant camped in the shadow of the massive structure before giving up and heading east to seek a ship across the Great River of Kings. It took another six days to reach the end of the canyon that lay before the Wall and a further three to negotiate passage. The delay did not ruin the merchant, but it came close.

  And now Keshik ran towards the same obdurate structure seeking entrance by stealth. Overhead, a wyvern screeched its characteristic cry and every member of the running troop dived instinctively to the ground as the beast swung low. They were notoriously dim-witted, but their eyesight was keen.

  It swooped fast, and the archers securely strapped on its back trained their weapons downwards, seeking what had alerted their mount, but like that of their wyvern, their eyesight was better at detecting movement than motionless dark shapes against a dark ground. After a few passes, the wyvern screeched again and rose high into the sky to continue its patrol.

  As soon as it lifted its head, the troop was on the move and they reached the base of the Wall without drawing the attention of any more wyverns.

  The night was darker, bleaker, crouched at the very foundations of the Wall. Where he rested his hands against the stone, Keshik could feel the cold that had seeped through from the eternally flowing river, so far below. He could also sense the low hum, the rumble of ancient magic that kept the gate functioning. As many stories were told about the origin of the magics as were told of the origin of the Wall itself, and the only thing he was sure of was that whatever had raised this Wall and kept it functioning was long gone from the world.