[Bayern 02] - Enna Burning

by Shannon Hale

  "Indeed," said a guard.

  Enna's skin tingled with an icy chill. Isi was trying to tell her something—Sileph had the gift of people-speaking. A dangerous gift, Isi had said once. When one with this gift speaks, it's not easy to resist the power of their persuasion. It's difficult not to adore them.

  Alone in her tent, Enna scowled. Honey-tongued goat bastard.

  "Do you know some tales, then?" said a soldier out of Enna's sight. "Go on. It has been a long night since we have had entertainment."

  There was a rumble of agreement.

  "All right, but just one, as I am to ride back to Folcmar tonight."

  "Slave drivers," someone said sympathetically.

  Isi closed her eyes as though visualizing the story. "In a mountain kingdom, a landslide awoke a long-defeated dragon. She stretched her neck, sharpened her claws, and tore her way out of the cave. In the rush to freedom, the dragon burned the nearest village, gorged herself on cattle, and returned to her cave to sleep on her bulging belly."

  "Oo-hoo, I would like to try my hand at one of those beasts," said a young soldier.

  "They are not real, you fool," said the guard.

  "Oh," he said, and hiccuped from the wine.

  Isi cleared her throat. "So. A brave prince rode to the cave on his fastest horse. He entered, quietly stepped over burnt cattle bones and charred bits of armor, and got close enough to spear the beast through the eye. But it had been long since one of his kingdom had faced such an enemy, and he did not know that the great old wyrms slept with eyes half-closed and nostrils wide open. When he neared, the dragon woke and raked her mighty tail against the cave wall. The prince stumbled away from the falling rock and was trapped against the cave wall by a barrier of unmovable rubble."

  Occasionally Isi batted the air around her face or paused a moment, gazing at nothing, but for the most part she seemed as much in control as she could be. Enna thought of that tea Isi took to help deaden the wind's touch, and she guessed that Isi had taken some recently. It might keep her mind focused, but Enna also knew it lessened her skill with wind and made her more vulnerable. The thought made her proud and sad, like watching a bird battle a cat to save her chicks.

  Isi looked right through the crack in the flap as though she could see Enna watching, could meet her eyes. "The prince's many friends wanted to rescue him, but it was useless to try to get past the sleeping dragon. So they waited near the cave for an opportunity. For a great while, none came." She looked back at the soldiers. "When at last the dragon stirred, she took flight directly toward another village. The prince's companions knew they had a choice—free the prince or protect the land. With heavy hearts, they turned their mounts to the flying dragon and sped toward battle."

  Isi stopped. There was a silence in which all Enna could hear was the fervent crackling of the fire as it feasted on a green pine bough.

  "So, then what happened?" said a soldier.

  "That is all I know of the story," said Isi. "What do you think happened?"

  "I guess the companions caught up to the dragon and slew it, and then went back to rescue the trapped prince."

  Isi smiled. "That would be a very good ending."

  "Or," said another, grumbling that the tale had no ending, "they all got toasted, no one knew the prince was trapped, and he died, too."

  "Yes," Isi said softly, "that could be an ending, too. Or perhaps while the dragon was gone, the prince found a way to free himself, though digging himself out of a collapsed cave could not be easy."

  "Hmph," said one of the guards, his voice slurring slightly. "If you do not mind my saying, lady, you are fine at telling tales but lousy at ending them."

  "But you bring good wine," said another cheerfully.

  Isi wished them well and stood to leave, glancing once again at the tent flap, her eyes sad. Enna watched her depart and felt as though Isi had tied a string to her heart and pulled it as she walked away. Enna remembered Isi once bemoaning the fact that she did not have the gift of people-speaking. To Enna's mind, Isi did not need it.

  Isi had come all that way just to tell Enna in a story that they could not rescue her. The thought made her chest burn. She thought of Sileph's assessment of the queen—a mousy woman with covered hair and lowered face. He never could have foreseen Isi entering the camp disguised as a Tiran woman, risking her life just to comfort her friend.

  There were two details that kept returning to Enna's mind and twisting her heart with a painful wonder. First was that in Isi's story, Enna had been the royalty and Isi the friend. And second, the possibility that just to disguise herself as a Tiran, just to tell her a story, Isi had cut off her hip-length hair.

  Enna sat by the slit in the tent, hugging her knees and thinking about her quickly shifting future. An hour before, she had been ready to give up on Bayern and run off to the enemy country with a smooth-speaking captain. She had thought her friendship lost, but Isi would not let her go. The rumor of the campfire's heat threaded through the tent flap and battered at her skin, but her chest filled with a different kind of warmth. She yearned to do something, right then, to show her loyalty to Isi and Bayern.

  Enna grimaced as she ripped open her Bayern skirt and pulled out the vellum. The leather was supple from sitting so close to her body heat. She ran a finger over the black writing, letting random phrases catch her eye: Heat remembers that it was once a part of something living, and it seeks to be so again. That small, hollow place. Burns best in what once lived.

  She could destroy it right now. Isi had not believed the power for creating fire was contained in the vellum, just the knowledge of how to do so. But what could happen to Enna's gift with fire if the vellum was not just hidden but reduced to ashes? It felt like a worthy risk. But she hesitated, read over it one last time, rubbed the vellum between her fingers. She sighed a surrendering sigh, pulled in the loose heat from the fire, and lit the vellum. A corner burst gold as flames crawled up its side. She held the far corner until the bite of the heat was blistering, then threw it on the ground, stomping out the ashes before the ground cloth lit.

  And then she closed her eyes and just felt. Cold air swirled around her; then a stab of heat came in from the fire through the flap. Wrapped around that heat thread was the paler heat from the guards and bare wisps from the nearest trees. The hollow place in her chest throbbed, ready to take it in at her will. The vellum was gone, and nothing had changed.

  She rubbed her forehead and thought of being angry or upset, or even relieved, but she could not pretend surprise. She had wanted to show herself that she was willing to give it up, just as Isi had been willing to cut her hair and risk her life. But she admitted to herself that she had not really believed burning the vellum could take away the knowledge that seemed to be branded into her mind and mingled with her skin, until she could not remember what life had been before fire.

  From what Enna could hear through the tent walls, there was no end to the wine Isi brought, or it was particularly strong, for the soldiers seemed to get drunker by the moment. Even Enna's tent guards were sitting on the ground now, laughing and hooting at some slurred joke. She heard someone say "Bayern" and leaned forward to listen better.

  "They won't know to run . . . to run or what."

  "Bayern don't know terror till they have met Captain S-SSileph."

  "It is Tiedan leading the army to the capital. Sileph's just going to Fedorthal."

  "I know, I know." The speaker began to giggle. "But isn't the plan mav . . . marvl . . . fine? To attack some out-of-the-way place like Fedorthal and draw their army there, only to send our biggest force to the capital when no one's looking."

  "Who would suspect us to march right on their capital? I wish I were going."

  "You would be, you cowherd, if you had not been on watch duty twice when her highness the fire-witch there had come a-burning."

  Enna stood, pacing again in the small space. Sileph harassing Fedorthal, Bayern responding and leaving the capital exposed, Tiedan on
the march to the capital. She had to act. Sileph had seduced her with his people-speaking lies, but maybe Bayern was not lost after all. Besides, what of the augury? It said that Bayern would win, but with Enna's help. For a time, she had forgotten.

  This was Enna's chance to set things right. Perhaps she could still catch Isi, warn her, and be back before they noticed and harmed Razo and Finn.

  The soldiers outside had grown quiet. She peered out the flap. The guard and three soldiers she could see were asleep, the others gone. Scarcely believing it could be so easy, Enna slipped out into the chilly night.

  The camp was quiet. Most of the soldiers stationed there must have marched with Sileph or Tiedan. If only she could catch up with Isi. There was little chance of finding Razo and Finn, freeing them, and getting to Isi in time, so she would have to get back to her tent before anyone noticed she had left. Trying to look casual and still not make noise, Enna picked her way through the sleeping bodies and toward the edge of camp.

  "Stop there, fire-witch." Two soldiers returned carrying a pot of stew. Their cheeks were a rough red. "Just where are you so set on going?"

  "To the privy," she said, nearly spitting at them with the words.

  The heat from the soldiers and their fire was crashing against her skin as though it sensed her anxiety and wanted to aid her. Suddenly, everything looked like fodder. For a time, Sileph had tricked her into forgetting that Tira was her enemy. But the fire needed fuel, and she needed an enemy, and the two had converged once again. The urge had not been so powerful since the night she burned the gallows.

  "Not without us, you don't. We will be glad to help you."

  One of the soldiers grabbed her arm with a sickly smile. She pushed him off. He stepped closer, gripping the neck of her dress and pulling her face close to his. His breath was thick with the sweet, rotten-fruit smell of drunkenness. His hands were hot.

  "Don't provoke me, my lady fire. All I need is one reason to kill you right now and call it an accident."

  "Get your hands off me, pig-boy," she said through her teeth.

  "That is a pretty good reason." He shoved her back and took up his sword.

  As he raised his sword for a neck swipe and the other drew his sword, Enna pulled in heat and sent it into both their hilts. With a painful gasp they dropped their swords. Enna sucked the heat out of the metal to cool them, sent it into the still blazing fire, and picked up both swords. She held one aloft, the blade pointed at the neck of the nearest guard, and said in a low voice, "Call out or dash away and I'll either run you through or burn you up, whichever's easier."

  Enna did not know how to use a sword and did not dare start a fire lest it spread and warn Razo and Finn's guards, but the drunken men believed her threat, nodding with frightened wide eyes. One took a step backward, slipped onto his rear, then looked at her as though she had made him do it. With a sword, Enna cut a length of rope off the nearest tent and told one to tie up the other. Then she cut more rope, letting the tent slump down, and tied up the second man. She hacked two pieces of fabric from the tent for gags and, smiling, turned to leave the camp.

  And smelled burning cloth. The tent had fallen into the fire pit and was blazing.

  Razo and Finn. Their guards had orders to kill them at the first sign of unusual fire. In panic, she sucked the heat out of the burning tent, enough to extinguish the flames, and with the heat raging in her chest looked around wildly for a place to send it. Nothing. She let it go on the bare ground, and the fire burst in a brief, bright explosion.

  "What's all this?" The inebriated soldiers around her tent stirred at the sudden pop of her blaze. She was tugging the fallen tent away from the campfire, but it had lit again. One of her guards stood and began to shout, "Fire, fire!"

  "Hush up. There's nothing. It's fine."

  But he continued to shout. Across the camp, Enna heard the answering calls from sentries: "Fire!" She cursed, abandoned the tent to its flames, and ran toward the center of camp. Two of the soldiers roused and called after her, "Stop there! Fire-witch escaped!" She heard swords ringing free of sheaths. She could not stop to deal with them now. With a backward glance she sent fire into their swords.

  The screams that followed stopped her cold. She looked back to see a soldier beating at the flames that clawed up his tunic. She rushed back, sucking the heat from that fire and setting the ground before him ablaze.

  "I didn't mean . . . " Her stomach turned to see she had broken that rule again, as she had with the sentry, as she had tried with Isi. Keeping her promise felt like her only safeguard against losing herself completely to the fire. She looked around—soldiers yelled across camp to one another, one tent was crushed to black remains fuming smoke, one beside it split with fresh flames. The soldier lay before her, his tunic still smoking, and he watched her with angry, fearful eyes.

  "I'm sorry," she said to him. "But Razo and Finn, and Bayern, they're more important." She fought a wave of nausea at her resolve as she turned and ran, but she knew now that to save them and stop the war, she would have to break all her rules, even the one that killed Leifer. Eventually she would have to surrender to the fire.

  She raced through the tented camp to the town. To add to the confusion, she scorched the tents in passing. Wherever sentries or soldiers tried to stop her, she sent fire, hopefully into their blades and bows, but she did not look back.

  The first building she reached appeared to be an old barn. Only one young guard stood before its bolted door, staring at her with wide eyes, holding up his sword in defense. She heated his sword and he dropped it, his expression barely changing, as though he had been expecting that. She held up her two swords to his throat, but they were too heavy, so she dropped one and held the other with both hands.

  "Where're the two Bayern boys kept?"

  The soldier shook his head. Burn him, prompted the fire. The excitement of burning was simmering in her, heating her up for more action. She felt invincible and dangerous and at the edge of surrender, the means to burn more than she ever had before. But she resisted, for now.

  "I think you should run now," she said, and he did not delay.

  Inside, several taken Bayern women and some townsmen stood in the center of the barn, fear in their faces. Enna recognized the blue-eyed woman.

  "Where're my two friends?"

  "In the old merchant's house," said the woman.

  "Show me." Enna took her arm and hurried her out of the barn. Behind them, the Bayern prisoners fled, two picking up the swords Enna and the guard had dropped.

  Enna let the woman lead her through town while she scanned for soldiers. She continued to send flames into tents, wagons, anything that was Tiran made. She was not conscious of having to pull the heat from anywhere—it seemed to follow her now, hover around her like a swarm of wasps. The woman struggled to loose her arm from Enna's.

  "What're you doing?" Enna asked. "I need your help."

  "Yes, I'll help, girl," said the woman, rubbing one arm with the other, "but you're so hot."

  Enna glanced down at herself. Her clothes appeared to be steaming faintly in the cold air. She nodded. "Lead the way."

  They ran to the house and found it guarded by four soldiers. One held his sword to the throat of a bound, blindfolded Finn. Enna did not hesitate. While still advancing, she set fire to three soldiers' leggings. They screamed and dropped to the ground, trying at once to put out the fire and move farther away. The soldier holding Finn blinked.

  "Kill him and you're dead," said Enna. "Drop your sword and I'll let you run."

  He blinked again, let his sword fall, and scurried down the dark street.

  Enna ripped off the blindfold and sawed through the ropes around Finn's wrists and ankles. They fell, revealing raw, red welts. Enna hissed at the sight, and that place in her chest yawned, aching for heat. She met Finn's eyes. He would have a scar down his cheek when a cut there healed, and his eye was green with an old bruise, but he smiled.

  "Hello, Enna," he said, his
voice creaking from disuse.

  "Hello, Finn," she said softly. The heat around her dissolved for a moment. She felt her heart beat in that emptiness, and for the first time in weeks she felt something like good, clean hope. Shouts from down the street were getting closer.

  "Razo?"

  "Inside," he said.

  "More guards?"

  Finn shook his head. Enna pushed them both in the door and out of view of any archers, gave Finn her sword to loose Razo, and turned to the blue-eyed woman.

  "Have you heard anything?" she asked.

  "Sileph's army marched three days ago, Tiedan's yesterday. Don't know where Sileph went, but I heard Tiedan is headed for the capital. They're marching west of Ostekin."

  Enna smiled. "You've heard quite a bit. Thanks. Now we could use horses."

  The woman pointed to the near end of camp.

  "You should get out of here, and let others out if you can," said Enna.

  "All right," she said, but stopped to put her fingers on Enna's forehead. She frowned. "Be careful," she said, and ran out of the barn.

  Enna turned to see Razo and Finn, both armed with swords, both looking skinny, sickly, and anxious, but also a little pleased.

  "Oh," she said, "they've been so cruel."

  Razo shrugged, then winced in pain. "We're all right. You look pretty good, pretty well fed and all. That's a nice dress."

  "It's new," she said, despising herself. "I'm sorry, Razo, Finn. I'm just so sorry."

  Razo shrugged, then winced again. Something in his manner reminded her fiercely of Leifer. She nearly sighed in contentment just to be speaking with Finn and Razo again. She had thought she was alone, but she knew now that she had been wrong. Razo, Isi, and Finn felt like her last family, and one that she was determined to keep.

  "You've got to stop shrugging," she said, almost laughing. "What happened to your shoulder?"