The Traitor and the Chalice

by Jane Fletcher

  “Only if the ghouls don’t get us first.”

  “You don’t think—” Fear sharpened Tevi’s voice.

  “No. It was a bad joke. We must be outside their range.”

  “You said that last night.”

  “True. It was a fluke. The phase of the moon or something. We can ask Levannue when we catch her. That sort of thing is her speciality.” Jemeryl’s voice was a soft mumble.

  “Perhaps that’s why she didn’t kill us. She knew the ghouls would come again tonight and do her job for her.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about. Ghouls are quite predictable.”

  “They weren’t last night. Perhaps these are a different sort of ghoul.”

  “There’s only one sort, and they don’t travel. To get them here, Levannue would have to...” Jemeryl’s voice died. Suddenly, her eyes snapped open, all tiredness swept away. “Quick, check the bags.”

  “What for?”

  “A charm. Levannue’s speciality. She could call a ghoul halfway across the Protectorate if she wanted to.”

  “You said the collar would stop her working magic.”

  “No, it only handicaps her, like working blindfolded. She wouldn’t perceive the aura of the charm, but she wouldn’t need to. The exact combination is probably etched in her memory.” Jemeryl pulled a bag onto her lap and tugged open the drawstring.

  Tevi jumped down and pulled open the pack on the other horse. “What would the charm look like? How do I—” Tevi’s words stopped abruptly. Lying in her palm was a small bundle of leaves, bones and feathers. “Like this?”

  From Jemeryl’s expression, no other answer was needed. Tevi looked to the west. Framed at the end of a long valley, the sun was kissing the skyline. Barely half an hour remained before dark.

  “What do we do? Search the other bags?”

  “There isn’t time. And the stuff will be contaminated. We must leave the charm here as a decoy and get as far away as we can. And wash your hands, check your clothes, and...” Jemeryl pinched the bridge of her nose. “We passed a stand of rowan a couple of miles back. We need to sort ourselves out and go there. If we can make it before sunset.”

  “You hate rowan.”

  “So do ghouls, and it should disguise any residual traces of the charm.”

  They left everything except the clothes they wore, the saddles, and one blanket in a heap by the ford and then spurred the horses into a race against the failing light. Dusk had set in by the time they got level with the rowan grove. Between them and the trees was fifty yards of matted scrub. Tevi tore her eyes from the darkness flooding into the valley, dreading the sight of dancing florescent lights.

  Jemeryl’s endurance had gone. Her knees buckled as she dismounted. Tevi drew her sword and hacked her way through to the rowan, carrying Jemeryl. Desperation added strength, speeding her progress. The horses followed obligingly.

  Tevi deposited Jemeryl beneath the trees, unsaddled the horses, and then settled down to keep guard. Klara perched in the branches. Wrapped in the blanket, Jemeryl did no more than mumble “Gods, I hate rowan” before giving in to exhaustion. Tevi was determined to face whatever the darkness might bring, but she also had not slept the night before. Her face contorted as she tried to keep her eyelids open. Eventually, she gave up the struggle and curled under the blanket beside Jemeryl.

  After all, she thought, surrendering to fate, there’s nothing I can do anyway. If they come.

  *

  Tevi awoke at dawn. She lay on her back, looking up at wisps of blue sky through a swaying lacework of rowan branches, heavy with bright red berries, and soaked in the relief of greeting a new morning. It was a morning that Levannue had planned she should not see. No doubt existed about the traitor’s intentions. Tevi’s jaw clenched. The image of the ghouls arriving again was all too easy to conjure up. She breathed out hard and watched the cloud of her breath trail away white.

  Jemeryl’s arm lay flopped across her. Tevi studied her sleeping lover. The night’s rest had softened the dark bruises under Jemeryl’s eyes, and her face was peaceful and unguarded. The sunlight heightened the warm flush of her skin. Gently, Tevi disentangled herself from the encircling arm and stood up, brushing dead leaves from her clothes. The movement woke Jemeryl, though she did no more than pull the blanket up about her neck.

  “We’re still here, then?” Jemeryl asked without opening her eyes.

  “So it would seem.”

  “Then is breakfast a possibility?”

  “I don’t know. We left everything at the ford. It depends on what the ghouls have left.” Tevi hoisted a saddle onto the nearest horse.

  “They won’t have eaten much. As ethereal spirits, they have remarkably light appetites, although it still doesn’t pay to invite them to dinner.”

  “Their table manners are pretty poor,” Klara elaborated.

  Jemeryl looked up at the waving rowan branches and winced. “I realise I should regard these particular trees with gratitude, but I’d rather do it from a distance.”

  “Get up, then.” Tevi yanked the blanket away, unmoved by Jemeryl’s yelp of complaint.

  It did not take long to ready the horses and start back. Strands of mist drifted around the horses’ legs. In low-lying spots, treetops floated above a sea of cloud, though the rising sun was burning through.

  “How long do you think Levannue was planning this?” Tevi asked as they rode.

  “Probably ever since we left Uzhenek. She couldn’t have collected all the bits she needed for the charm on the spur of the moment, certainly not with us watching her.”

  “Would she have known the road led by Graka?”

  “Yes. The town is notorious. And once she’d called the ghouls, we had no option but to remove her collar. I couldn’t have held them all off on my own. “

  “I wonder what she’d have done if I hadn’t spotted the ghouls when I did.”

  “No doubt she had something planned. She’d been very careful up to then.” Jemeryl shook her head at her own folly. “I shouldn’t have let myself feel sympathy for her.”

  “It wouldn’t have made any difference.”

  “Oh, it would. Towards morning, I felt her end of the net weaken. I thought, ‘She’s old,’ so I let her push more of the burden onto me. Of course, she was just gathering her strength, ready to cast the aural bolt. I should have made her carry her share. It might have stopped her escape.”

  “And her plans didn’t end there.”

  “I know. I wish I could believe she left the charm by oversight.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t like to think I’m so gullible. The version of events that she gave by the campfire—I felt sorry for her. I thought she was just an old woman who was frightened of dying and hadn’t meant any harm. I was taken in by a lying, murderous traitor.”

  “If it makes you feel happier, I’d guess the truth lies somewhere in the middle, with a strong pinch of self-delusion on her part thrown in.”

  “She meant to kill us.”

  “True. It wasn’t as sure as stabbing us while we were unconscious, but it’s definitely her style—like leaving poison to be taken when she’s absent. Perhaps if she doesn’t witness her victim’s fate, she can tell herself it wasn’t her fault.”

  The ford appeared around the next bend. Everything looked unchanged. The bags were piled where they had been left. Jemeryl stared at the scene with her lips tightly compressed.

  “They were here last night?” Tevi asked.

  “Oh, yes.”

  While Tevi prepared breakfast, Jemeryl went through their belongings, removing all traces of the charm.

  “You know, it must have added impetus to Levannue’s flight—the fear that we’d overtake her before nightfall,” Tevi said after a while.

  “Undoubtedly.”

  “Maybe she’ll slow down now if she feels safe.”

  Jemeryl paused in her work. “Maybe. But I don’t think Levannue will rely on the ghouls. She’s too cautious
. We must be on the lookout for further traps.”

  “We can’t go too slowly. I reckon Levannue will have nearly half a day’s lead on us.”

  “At least now that I’ve slept, I can help track her. It shouldn’t be too hard. There hasn’t been anyone else along this path for months, so there are no distracting auras.”

  “Apart from this bit reeking of ghouls,” Klara added.

  “You still can’t tell who made this path?”

  “No.”

  “Call me a pessimist, but I can’t see it being the work of a sweet little old man who’s going to welcome us into his home like long-lost relatives.”

  “You’re a pessimist,” Jemeryl said. “And almost certainly right.”

  *

  It soon became obvious that Levannue wasn’t relying on the ghouls. She pressed ahead at a rate that was savage on the horses. In mid-afternoon, Tevi and Jemeryl stopped for a pitifully inadequate break. Lush grass lined the banks of a stream, yet the horses were too tired to eat. Tevi rubbed their drenched coats with fistfuls of leaves, more to ease her conscience than for any aid it might give. She could feel the animals trembling.

  “We can’t push the horses this hard. It’s cruel.”

  Jemeryl lay on her back a few feet away with her arms crossed over her eyes. “I know, but we must catch Levannue.”

  “Is there nothing you can do?”

  “I can try.” Jemeryl sat and hugged her knees while flexing her neck. Tevi was concerned to see signs of exhaustion returning to her lover’s face.

  Jemeryl stood in front of one horse. Deftly, she placed her palms over its eyes. Her fingers splayed out towards its ears. The startled horse tried to back away, but almost immediately it calmed. Only its ears flicked, as if trying to dislodge a fly. Gradually, a change came over the animal. The trembling went. Vigour returned to the set of its legs and arch of its neck. When Jemeryl stepped away, the horse tossed back its head, fidgeting like a skittish colt, radiating strength.

  Tevi was impressed. “Could you do the same for me?”

  “Yes, but I wouldn’t want to. It’s not safe.” Jemeryl moved to the other horse.

  “Does it harm the horses?”

  “Not if it only lasts a day or two, but much longer, and it will kill them. It’s like burning a candle at both ends.”

  After the short rest, they continued until nightfall. They resumed the chase at first light. The trail no longer climbed so relentlessly, though the landscape was more rugged. Sheer cliffs of limestone broke from the bleak mountainsides. Snow covered the tops and glinted in the depths of crevasses. The streams were icy. Winter was close, and both women were glad of their hooded, fur-lined cloaks—presents from Bykoda. At the end of the morning, a squall of sleet pounded them for an hour and turned the ground to slush.

  The afternoon was well advanced when they descended into a wooded valley. A piercing wind hissed through the trees, carrying bursts of freezing rain that stung like needles. At the bottom of the slope, their trail met another, wider path. It was well worn and clearly well used. Jemeryl frowned as she looked both ways along the path. Her head leaned to one side as if listening.

  “Of course. The dwarves. Several clans live in these mountains.”

  “Dwarves? I saw some in Lyremouth. “

  “Those you meet in the Protectorate are a bit unusual. Most won’t have anything to do with humans, but they travel a lot among themselves. They’re very keen on keeping in touch with all their relatives.”

  “What you mean is, this lot won’t be friendly,” Tevi said bluntly.

  Jemeryl’s nose wrinkled. “It might depend what side of bed they got out of this morning, but they shouldn’t give us trouble. They’ve learned to treat human sorcerers with respect. They don’t have any of their own, although they all possess extra senses to humans. Their eyes can see in the dark, for example, and they’re immune to illusion.”

  “I thought they were just like us...except a bit shorter.”

  “That’s deceptive. They’re really quite strange. They have their own laws and culture, totally centred around family, wealth, and revenge.”

  “Doesn’t sound so different to some people I’ve met.”

  “The dwarves are an awful lot more excessive about it.” Jemeryl pursed her lips. “Do you have any idea which direction Levannue went? Up until now, there’s been nothing to distract from her aura, but the dwarves confuse things around here.”

  Tevi dropped to the ground and paced a few yards in either direction. Where the road led east, she crouched and brushed aside the wind-blown leaves. “This way.”

  The new trail kept to the valley floor, driving deep into a mountain range. The peaks rose on either side, while the walls of the valley became closer and steeper until they were passing along a flat-bottomed gorge. Bare faces of limestone gleamed ghostly white as the light faded. They camped in the shelter of a knot of stunted trees, enveloped in matted undergrowth.

  The cold wind blustered throughout the night, rustling the leaves. Towards dawn, it strengthened with a damp heaviness that carried the promise of rain. In the overcast light, Tevi and Jemeryl continued their pursuit. They had been travelling for less than an hour when they came across the doused remains of a campfire in a narrow clearing. Tevi poked the embers. Smoke wafted from the charred logs.

  “How long?” Jemeryl whispered.

  “Half an hour, maybe a little more.”

  Jemeryl was about to return to the path, but Tevi spotted a nearby opening in the bushes. A track wove through the tress. It was probably the work of deer, but something much larger, the size of a horse, had recently passed along.

  “She went this way.”

  For the sake of quietness, they left their own horses behind and crept along the track. Klara went ahead. Suddenly, the hefty snort of a horse broke the silence. The sound came from less than fifty yards away. Tevi froze. The dense undergrowth concealed whatever was ahead. She glanced over her shoulder. Jemeryl had her eyes closed. As the minutes passed, her expression became more confused.

  “Klara can’t find her,” Jemeryl whispered.

  Slowly, inching from bush to bush, the women advanced until they reached the end of the trees. Before them, broken rock lined the foot of a towering cliff face. Levannue’s horse wandered nearby, alone and packless. There was no sign of Levannue. Jemeryl edged into the open and looked at the weathered wall of limestone. Deep cracks gashed the surface, and caves punched black chasms into the rock.

  “She’s entered the dwarf mines.”

  “Do we wait for her to come out?”

  Jemeryl shook her head. “I don’t think she’s coming out. Otherwise, she’d have taken better care of her horse and not let it stray.”

  “I’m not sure if I fancy following her in there.”

  “Nor do I. It would be impossible to track her. We’d be more likely to run afoul of the dwarves first.”

  “Won’t they object to Levannue?”

  “They will if they find her. It might depend on what her plan is.”

  “Might she be in league with them?”

  “Unlikely, else she’d do the same thing we’re going to.”

  “Which is?”

  “Go in by the front door.”

  *

  They collected Levannue’s horse and returned to the main path. The threatened rain held off while they rode deeper into the mountains. On either side, the gorge closed in until the tops of the cliffs hung over them. The dull light was reduced still further. Trees were replaced first by straggling shrubs and ivy, and then by cushions of moss. In the barren landscape of rock, echoes were snatched away by the cold wind.

  The path climbed in high steps, with the rock hacked back where necessary to allow passage. A small river cascaded down the gorge in a series of waterfalls. Spray was whipped up by the wind. The gorge had narrowed to fifty feet when they rose over one final step and saw a fortified wall spanning the valley floor. The battlements stood three times Tevi’s hei
ght. Heavy wooden doors were firmly shut. The river poured out through a barred culvert at the side.

  Shouts and the sounds of activity erupted behind the wall. Heads moved behind the parapet and then were still. When they were within twenty yards of the gates, Jemeryl dismounted and gestured for Tevi to do the same. They walked a few steps clear of the horses. The only noises were the rush of water and hooves shuffling on bare rock, but the glint of helmets and arrowheads revealed the presence of the dwarves.

  “I don’t suppose you speak common dwarvish?” Jemeryl whispered to Tevi.

  “No. Don’t you?”

  “Only a few standard phrases. I’m not up to holding conversations. If I’d known we were coming here, I’d have brought a translating device.”

  “If I’d known we were coming here, I’d have slit Levannue’s throat back in Uzhenek.”

  Jemeryl raised her voice. “Llig duhli kurtorct. Tivil duhli Torgan ut.” She smiled wryly. “I’m hoping that was ‘We come in peace. Take us to your leader’.”

  A cry came back. “Zkath drogn ritu.”

  “What did that mean?”

  “I think it was a question.”

  “How about Why don’t you go away?” Klara suggested a translation.

  The shout was not repeated. For a long time, nothing happened; then the gate opened a crack, and a small bowlegged figure emerged, hefting a large axe and glaring belligerently. The dwarf was of stocky build. Although his head came no higher than a human’s waist, Tevi estimated that the fists clenched around the axe shaft were as broad as her own. His clothing was brilliant blue but was almost completely covered in chain mail and bands of armour. A long red beard spilled over his chest.

  The dwarf advanced slowly and walked around them. Once the circuit was complete, he stood in front of the two women, staring intensely. Seen close to, his eyes were dark, devoid of whites. Tevi smiled in what she hoped was considered a friendly fashion.

  “Trogn duh.” The dwarf spat out the words, but as he turned to go, he gestured for Jemeryl and Tevi to follow. Three other dwarves slipped out to claim the horses.