by C. K. Rieke
“Come,” Foro said. “Come now.” He beckoned her with his hand. He had an eager gaze in his eyes. She stood and followed him out of the tent.
She saw Fewn standing motionless, gazing in the dawn’s earliest light northwest. Lilaci saw it instantly— an encampment just barely visible. There were no fires, but there was a small collection of tents, and a few livestock and Ioxi on the outskirts.
“What do ya say?” Foro said. “Three miles out?”
Lilaci nodded.
“Whew!” Fewn yelled in excitement, her fists pumping in the air in front of her. “We found them!”
Foro slammed a hand onto Fewn’s back, and then he did the same onto Lilaci’s. “The hunts almost over!” he said. “The girl is surely down there. There can’t be too many caravans in this part of the desert. Our mission for the gods in within reach.”
“Fifty orecks!” Fewn yelled. “That’s so many coins, we’re going to be rich!”
Foro smiled widely. “I’ll even be able to cut some out for Dellanor and Garenond. They’d do the same for me.”
This is the greatest honor I could possibly do for the gods. I’ve been endowed with an ancient magic, possibly one of the only women to ever possess it, maybe the only. All we need to do is go down there and take what is willed of us. This is going to be so easy. This is what your whole life has come down to. This is everything you’ve been trained for, everything you’ve been brought up to be. It's your time to shine, it's your time to prove to him that you’re worthy. Today is the day that you show the gods your allegiance, and you show the Arr you’re worthy. Today’s the day you take the Dragon’s Breath.
Chapter Thirty-Three
The air hung still, the sands lay silent, and death was eager to show its wicked teeth yet again. Looking down upon the camp, Foro and Fewn were brimming with anticipation. This was what they were bred for— killing and taking these children back to where they belonged— in the servitude of the gods. Lilaci wasn’t as excited as the other two: she was much more strategic— analytical about the coming attack. There were only six people surrounding the small fire that night. Five adults, weak and dirty, and one child— most likely the child.
“That’s why the fire flickered that night,” Foro said. “They’ve surrounded themselves with a ring of sheets as they sit around the fire at night. They’ve been at this a long time I’d wager.”
“What a life,” Fewn said. “There’s the girl, you see her? Hmpf— she just looks like a normal girl. Probably eight or nine. This is going to be a breeze. We should just go down now, there isn’t any way they’re going to stop us from taking her.”
“No,” Foro said. “We only do this one way. We wait until they’re asleep. You know that.”
The three of them were lying on their stomachs on the sands, watching from just two-hundred feet away. The moon was but a small, curved slit in the sky, and thick clouds rolled past. Lilaci looked up at the sky as if it was the last time she’d be herself. Something inside of her was telling her that after this night, after taking this girl and killing the others, that she’d never be the same.
“I was hoping this was going to be more of a challenge,” Fewn said. “There’s no way it was necessary for Dellanor and Garenond to be here. And think of all the coins we’re going to get. This is going to be a cinch.”
“Now, remember girl,” Foro said. “That was just a guess about the reward. I really don’t know— do not go about putting your purse to work just yet. And I’ve been on enough of these raids to know that sometimes these caravans can surprise you, sometimes they have weapons or even traps. This one though— they seem pretty pathetic. Look how they sulk around as they walk from tent to tent. They’re tired. They’re hungry. I’d wager they don’t put up much of a fight.”
“Look at the girl,” Fewn said. “She just sits there, staring into the fire. She hasn’t moved in two hours, easy.”
“Probably bored,” Foro said. “What else would you have to do in this wasteland?”
“Lilaci,” Fewn said. “Aren’t you excited? You haven’t spoken a peep hardly. This is it, we’ve found her!”
“I’m fine. I suppose I’m just assessing the attack in my head.”
“You’re not nervous, are you?” Fewn asked in an inquisitive tone. Foro looked over at Lilaci as well.
“No,” Lilaci said. “I just want this to go perfectly. No surprises. No mistakes.”
“Don’t worry so much,” Fewn said. “We’ve been trained for a decade on battle scenarios. We were even trained how to take out fortresses. This is us against six frail people who can barely stand, they’ve probably been walking so long.”
“The girl,” Lilaci said. “Like you said, she hasn’t moved.”
“So?” Fewn said, her tone condescending.
“The gods are afraid of that one little girl,” Lilaci said, “and she hasn’t moved an inch. She’s just staring at the fire.”
“What’s your point?” Fewn asked anxiously.
“You’re right about the girl,” Foro said. “There’s something different about her. She has a presence. I can sense it from here.”
Fewn looked away from Lilaci and Foro, and looked back down to the girl, sitting at the center of the circle of tents and hanging clothes, motionless with no wind. The girl’s hair was black and shoulder length, it wasn’t pulled back but framed her pale face, and Lilaci saw the distinct widow’s peak on her young forehead. The mark of the Lu-Polini. “She’s still just a girl,” Fewn said, spitefully.
“We’ll wait until they’re sound asleep,” Foro said. “Then we’ll each attack from separate angles. Three tents, three of us. I’ll take the one with the girl.”
“No,” Fewn interjected. “I’ll get her.”
Lilaci turned to the both of them, and in the sternest voice she could muster, she said, “No. I’m in command. I’ll get the girl.”
The light of the fire had dimmed as a small trickle of smoke floated up into the heavens. A slight breeze had arrived, bringing with it a subtle whistling and howling.
Lilaci felt the sand under her feet as she strode forward, towards the caravan. She crept low and silently, her sword firmly in her hand, and the dagger tucked into the back of the red sash at her waist. She slunk up to the front flap of the tent in which the girl and her family slept. Reaching her hand up slowly she let her fingers caress the tough canvas flap, and she delicately pulled it to the side.
She took another soft step forward and peered into the tent, dimly lit in the light of a single candle. Looking around she saw a man in the corner, snoring slightly, sound asleep. Next to him was a woman, frail and bundled up beneath a thick blanket. Then— there in the other corner, the body of a small girl, curled up into a ball underneath a brown, linen blanket. Her black hair was covering her face, as her pale skin was lit by the dying light of the candle.
Then— a faint thought drifted into Lilaci’s mind then. Something here doesn’t feel right. I feel like I’ve been here before. Not here though, I feel like I’ve been in this tent, only it wasn’t this tent— The pain shot back into her head, and she dropped to her knees, clutching both sides of her head in her palms. Again, she saw the writhing worms, slick with slime as they wrapped around each other— squeezing. What is it I can’t see in my own mind. Was I in this tent before? Another shot of pain. What is my own memory hiding from me? Was it a dream?
Then, while kneeling in the middle of the tent, Lilaci looked up to see the young girl, standing before her. Her eyes were piercing. Those same pale gray eyes she’d heard about before were staring into her, they seemed to be looking into Lilaci’s soul. Then like a strong gust of wind on the sands, the pain was completely wiped from her mind. The worms disappeared and the red glow of Veranor’s amulet faded. A memory began to form as she looked up at the young girl, standing silently before her.
“Lilaci,” she heard a man’s voice say in her memory. “What are you doing up still?”
“Father, I couldn’t sleep
,” a young girl said.
Lilaci felt like a rock just formed in her stomach. She couldn’t breathe, she was completely taken by the memory. She lifted her hands up to her chest, still staring into the beautiful eyes of the girl. Then, she heard the man’s voice again, and before her in the tent, she saw him. “Come,” he said. Lilaci watched as a little girl went over and laid next to her father. “Why are you awake my daughter?” The girl snuggled into her father, as he wrapped his arms around her. “There’s plenty of time to be awake under the hot sun in the sands, and we begin our walking tomorrow again—”
Lilaci lifted her hands to the sides of her neck, and she felt as if she was about to faint from the feeling welling up inside her. “Father?” she whispered in disbelief. She covered her mouth and tears began to stroll down her cheeks.
The young girl was no older than six years as she held her father tightly. Her face was pale, and she looked as peaceful as any girl she’d ever seen. “I don’t know father, my mind won’t slow tonight. Sometimes I have trouble shutting away my thoughts,” the young girl said to her father.
Through her streaming tears, Lilaci was overcome with grief. She lifted her shaking hand slowly from her mouth and said to the girl in her memory. “Don’t let go of him, don’t you ever let go.”
“Hmmm,” he said. “What are you thinking of this time of night?”
“Tell him you love him,” Lilaci said through her anguish. Then she looked over on the floor of the tent next to the father— two small children. “Oh no . . . Darig, Elka. I’ve forgotten you. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. My brother and sister . . . I had a brother and sister . . . Please don’t let this happen. Please god, don’t let this happen . . .”
Then, the young girl with the pale skin asked her father, “I was wondering how long we have to walk the sands. Will it have to go on forever?”
The tears flowed down Lilaci’s cheeks in streams. “Oh god . . . Please, someone stop this. Father, they’re going to take me away. You have to run. You have to fight them off. They’re going to do things to mother . . .” Then she choked up. “My mother . . .”
“What’re you two going on about?” her mother asked as she sat up in the bed next to her, reaching out and running her fingers through the young girl’s hair.
Lilaci’s lips quivered as she reached out, her fingers outstretched and shaking. “M—Mother . . . I’ve forgotten your face.” A smile appeared across Lilaci’s face, yet her lips continued to quiver as she cried. “You are so beautiful. More beautiful than I could’ve ever imagined. I forgot your face, I’m sorry. I— I don’t want to forget you again. I don’t want to forget anymore. I love you. Mother, don’t leave me again. Please, don’t go.”
The little girl said to her mother, “I’m sorry. It's my fault we have to walk. I wish my brother and sister could live in one of the great cities, full of fresh water and food. It’s my fault.”
“Don’t you say things like that,” the mother said to the young girl. “You know we are out here with the others, because we are a family, and we need to stick together. The rest of the Arr doesn’t understand that you’re just a girl— just a normal girl. Just because you were born— different— from the other children.”
“Your mother is right,” the father said. “You’re our daughter, that’s it, so we’ll stick together. And you wait, you’ll see, that someday we’ll find a place to call home. The Arr is a big place.”
“No,” Lilaci cried. “No, you won’t . . . Tell them you love them, Lilaci. Hold on to them as long as you can . . .”
“You mean it?” the young girl said. “You think we’ll find a home that my little brother and sister can rest?”
Lilaci covered her face with her hands and let her head fall to the sand. Crying uncontrollably. My family. I had a family. I miss you so much. I’d give anything to be able to hold you now mother. I left them . . . Darig and Elka. They were left alone out in the desert. They must have been so scared. So alone. And I did nothing . . . Nothing! Oh father, you were so wrong. We were never going to be together, we were never going to be safe . . . because of me. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault. It’s my fault you’re all dead.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Lilaci then heard a muffling sweep next to her, then the distinct sound of sharp metal slicing through soft skin and muscle. The blood-curdling cries then rang out in the tent. Lilaci was suddenly swept back into the present, and she looked up in horror.
“Lilaci?” Foro said. “What are you doing?”
Lilaci watched as Foro tore the woman’s clothes from her body, as the father lay dying in the bed next to them. As the woman screamed in terror, he tore her skirt from her waist, revealing her dirt-covered thigh and leg.
Lilaci was stricken with panic. She looked into the terrified woman’s eyes as she stared at the young girl standing in the middle of the room, crying as she watched her father slipping into death’s grasp.
“Get away from her,” Lilaci said. The panic had vanished, and a distinct clarity flowed through her mind. “Get away from my mother.”
“What in the gods are you going on about?” Foro said. “This is my claim as a Scaether. You know that. This is mine to take. Now leave this tent at once.”
“You touch my mother, and you’re a dead man.” Tears rolled down her cheeks again, and an intense fire burned inside her. “I swear upon the lives of the gods themselves if you touch my mother or me, I’ll cut you down with a fury you’ve never seen.”
Foro’s eyes focused with a keen intensity onto Lilaci, and he slowly stood away from the woman, crying and appearing to be in shock. He held out his hands to his sides, with his palms facing Lilaci. He still held the bloody dagger in his hand.
“You know that threatening me is against the code,” he said. “You could be hanged. In fact, I could even kill you— right here, right now— for such an act.”
“Step away from her if you want to keep your life,” she said. “I’m not going to ask again.”
He looked at Lilaci with an entertained expression, then he looked down to the woman, attempting to cover herself. “You want me to spare her life? Is that what you want?” He looked back up at Lilaci. “You want me to let your mother leave this place?” In an instant, without remorse, and with the same emotionless precision as threading a needle, he lodged his dagger into the side of the woman’s head. She attempted to scream, but it faded to silence, and she fell on her back, on top of her murdered husband. “Well, that’s not going to happen now, is it?”
“No!” Lilaci’s screamed in the tent, her voice cracking and breaking. That fire that burned inside of her had erupted into a roaring inferno. She was dripping with rage. “Mother . . .” Lilaci burst forth, letting out a roar out that echoed for miles in the dark desert.
Foro drew his sword from his side quickly. Lilaci’s sword cut through the air, and their swords collided with a sharp clang, and sparks flew when the two swords met. She pulled back and slashed at him again. Their swords flickering in the candlelight as they collided again.
“I told you not to do that,” Lilaci said. “You soulless bastard. I’m going to kill you for that.” She laid blow after blow with him, both of them appearing to be equally fast, although Lilaci could tell he had the slight advantage in strength. As her blade slid through the air like the breeze on the dunes, each time he defended wisely, and he quickly began to counter with his own blows, driving her back.
“I should’ve known not to trust you, you crazy bitch,” Foro said, his eyes grew wild with rage. “This is why women aren’t Scaethers. You’re soft. You’re frail. I should take you instead of her. Now that you’ve thrown our code out, you’re just one of them again.”
“You’re right about one thing,” she said, pushing him back with cunning blows onto him. “I’m one of them. I’ve never been one of you!”
He let out a loud yell and lunged at her with all his strength. She could sense he was going in for the killing shot, and with her senses heighte
ned to the brink of exhilaration, she saw the move coming, and as it did, time had slowed. She inched her torso just out of the way of his blade’s path and shifted her weight to her front foot and began to spin. She spun around the back of his sword as his momentum carried him forward. A surprised expression lit his eyes as she hefted her sword from her spinning arc and stuck it into his back. She felt the blade’s sharp tip as it cut through his muscles and stuck through his heart. He was paralyzed at that moment. His eyes were fraught with pain and confusion as he looked back at her.
“You . . . traitor,” he muttered, blood flowing into his mouth. She twisted the sword in him, enjoying his anguish.
“You won’t take me,” she said. “You won’t take anything from anybody ever again.” She raised her foot up to his back and shoved him from her sword, to the ground. He clutched his chest and coughed up blood to the sand. Lilaci turned to leave the tent but stopped suddenly as she saw Fewn standing at its front flaps. Her mouth agape as she looked down at Foro dying in the faint candlelight, her eyes rose up from him to Lilaci’s sword, covered in fresh blood. Her gaze continued up to meet Lilaci’s eyes.
“Lilaci— What have you done?”
Chapter Thirty-Five
“Where’s the girl?”
“Lilaci . . . What have you done?”
“Fewn, get out of my way.” Lilaci looked around the tent frantically for the young girl. Where is she? I have to save her. I can’t let her be taken, not like I was. She has no idea what lies ahead for her if they take her.
“You can’t do this. What were you thinking. Foro’s dead. You killed Foro!”
“Fewn— tell me. Where’s the girl?”
Fewn slowly slid her sword from its scabbard, the blood from the others in the caravan was beginning to dry onto it. She held out the sword, her eyes darting around the room, she seemed unsure of what to do.