The Bastard’s Pearl

by Connie Bailey

  “I will.” Leksi bowed and left with his comrade.

  “You wish them luck on their raids?” Luks said as soon as the door was closed.

  “Was that the wrong terminology?”

  “You can’t start planting ideas in their heads.”

  “What ideas? I extended my thanks and good wishes. What could be wrong with that?”

  “You can’t be this simple.” Luks chewed his lip for a moment before he continued. “You said you wished them luck on their raids. Do you know if raids have been authorized?”

  “If they aren’t authorized, then what’s the harm?”

  “Because Pearl the Perfect just hinted that he admires raiders. You’ve given them incentive to disobey orders… if there are orders against raids.”

  “I think you’re making too much of this.”

  “Why won’t you accept that I know more about this than you?”

  “You worry too much. Nothing is—” Sheyn broke off as someone knocked at the door.

  Luks went to the door and returned with a tray. He set it down on the floor between the bed and the cushion and poured two cups of khai.

  “You left in the middle of my sentence,” Sheyn said.

  “I didn’t need to hear any more. Drink your khai while it’s hot.” Luks broke a loaf in half, spread soft, baked cheese on both pieces, and handed one to Sheyn.

  “Why aren’t there any female daaksim?” Sheyn asked before he took a bite.

  “I’m going to let you think about your question for a moment before I answer.” Luks chewed a piece of dried apple and watched Sheyn’s face.

  “Of course,” Sheyn said. “What a foolish question. Your culture would never allow a woman near a battlefield or a camp full of strange men.”

  “Or any number of other places.” Luks looked around as someone knocked. “Whoever could that be?” he wondered aloud.

  “I’ll answer it this time,” Sheyn said as he got to his feet.

  When Sheyn opened the door, there was no one there but the guard. “Did someone just knock?” Sheyn asked.

  “I’m not saying anyone did,” the soldier said. “But if someone did, they left this for you.” He handed Sheyn a stone jar.

  “Thank you.” Sheyn took the jar inside and gave it to Luks. “A gift,” he said.

  Luks opened the lid. “It’s honey!” he said. “The Goddess’s blessings on whoever brought this, but… I’m not sure we should accept it.”

  “You’re joking. It’s just a jar of honey. Pour some on your bread and give it back.”

  “You’re right. It’s a harmless gift.” Luks passed the jar to Sheyn and bit into his honeyed bread. “It’s surprising how much you can come to crave something sweet,” he said after he swallowed.

  “Very true.” Sheyn thought about Luks’s words as he ate his bread and honey.

  CANDLES AND incense burned once again in the Gate Chamber. Again, High Priest Chanesh sought to call one of Taankh’s Children into the Waking World. On the rough altar, a daaksi struggled against his chains and begged for mercy.

  “Reverend Lord,” Moksha said. “Please don’t do this. I beg you not to hurt me.”

  Chanesh took no notice of Moksha’s words. Though the acolyte had served him well for two years, the young man might have been a stone in the wall for all the attention the high priest paid to him. Chanesh was concentrating on the words of the chant. At the end of the third line of each stanza, his hand snaked out, and the ceremonial blade cut into Moksha’s flesh. Soon the sound of screams filled the air that was already heavy with musky incense. A puff of murky mist appeared above the altar and began to expand.

  Moksha saw the demon taking form above him, and his terror doubled. The waves of fear emitted by the sacrifice opened the door between the realms. Guided by the high priest’s chant, one of Taankh’s Children squeezed through the crack and manifested as a winged creature the size of a boar with a bat’s face and the yellow, knobby hide of a toad. Held captive in the altar’s aura, the creature writhed and gibbered, gnashing its four-inch tusks at the young man chained to the stone just out of reach.

  “A goblin,” Chanesh said in disgust. He glanced at Moksha, who’d bloodied his wrists trying to pull free of his manacles. It was clear this daaksi wasn’t powerful enough to attract anything larger. Chanesh needed the Gate, the moon-haired daaksi who’d escaped him. But the Gate was guarded by the Bastard of Savaan and the army of the Bastard’s traitorous brother. To defeat them, Chanesh needed more demons. To get more demons, he needed more daaksim. He spared another glance at Moksha. And if they were all as weak as this one, he was going to need a great number of them.

  Chanesh spoke the words of command to the goblin and sent it on its way. He had no confidence that it would succeed in its mission, but it would have an affect on the morale of the rogue Savaanim. Leaving Moksha on the altar, Chanesh went to his office and sent for Yozif. They had plans to make.

  AT LAST the long day was over, and the Horde of the Hawk was settled in and around the fortress. The men and horses had been fed and were bedding down. The commander took a few minutes to breathe and walk the parapet with his best warrior.

  “Now we wait,” Kholya said and Kashyan nodded. “I don’t think Kezlath will pursue this. He knows his fellow kings would take my side as soon as they hear his high priest stole a daaksi.”

  “Some might say the daaksi was already stolen goods that I had no right to.”

  Kholya shook his head. “The Council of Kings would recognize the bond and honor it.”

  “I hope you’re right. Those Red Monks worry me. They need Pearl for one of their filthy rituals, so I don’t think they’ll give up so easily.”

  “If it comes to a siege, we can hold them off. We have a well, a large store of grain, and a tunnel to the hunting grounds. And we know our noncombatants will be safely in Savaan soon.”

  “What if the king decides not to give them sanctuary?”

  “He has no authority over my lands, and since you’re not anywhere near his kingdom, he’ll pretend not to notice.”

  “I’ve always wondered, why did he keep me around?”

  “To torment you,” Kholya said bluntly. “He couldn’t bear the sight of you, and yet, he wanted his eye on you. You remember how he looked for the slightest fault and pounced on it. But even when you were small, and one of his slaps would send you flying, you never cried.”

  “I shed plenty of tears.”

  “Never in front of him.”

  “Let’s speak of something else.”

  “As you wish,” Kholya said. “Your daaksi is a proper hellion.”

  “Something else.”

  Kholya chuckled. “I must be tired. I can’t think of a single thing to talk about.”

  “Then take some rest.”

  “A wise suggestion. You should come with me.”

  “I want to think for a while.”

  “All right. I think it’s good that you’re taking up a new pastime.”

  Kashyan aimed a punch at Kholya’s shoulder. Kholya dodged and continued on to the ladder. His grin was the last thing Kashyan saw as he climbed down out of sight. Kashyan took a moment to thank Raas for giving him such a fine brother, and then his thoughts turned to Sheyn.

  “I CAN’T breathe,” Sheyn said.

  “I know. You’ve told me at least a dozen times.” Luks opened his eyes. “I can’t make a window.”

  “Go to sleep, then. You’re of no use to me.”

  Luks curled back up and fell asleep. Sheyn went to the door and opened it.

  “Do you need something?” the guard asked.

  “Do you know where Prince Kashyan is?”

  “Not at this moment. But I could send a message for you.”

  “I’ll take that message,” Djenya said as he approached. “Good evening, blossom,” he said to Sheyn. “Kasha sent me to see if you have everything you need. Why don’t we go into the chamber?”

  “Luks is asleep.”

&nb
sp; “You should get some sleep too.”

  “I can’t. I feel trapped in all this stone. I need to feel the wind.”

  “I could walk with you as far as the nearest window,” Djenya said.

  “Thank you!” Sheyn pulled the fur cloak around his shoulders and shut the door behind him.

  “This way,” Djenya said, giving the guard a salute before he led Sheyn down the hall.

  “Couldn’t we go outside?” Sheyn asked.

  “You’re really feeling caged, aren’t you?” Djenya chuckled. “I understand that feeling all too well. I’m not happy unless I’m on horseback under the sky.” He paused. “Come on. I’ll take you to the donjon tower.”

  After climbing a set of winding steps, Djenya opened a hatch and he and Sheyn emerged on the platform of a large, squat tower. There were no pennants for the wind to play with, so it made do with Sheyn’s hair, turning it into a banner of white silk. Djenya lounged against a merlon and watched the daaksi’s long hair dance on the air currents as Sheyn leaned out of the crenellated wall to look into the courtyard. The sun had set, and the light was grainy, but Sheyn could see men still moving about, preparing for a siege.

  “Do you think the Temple will try again?” Sheyn asked as he turned to look at Djenya.

  Djenya didn’t answer. He was staring at something above Sheyn’s head. As Sheyn spun to look, he heard Djenya’s sword leave its sheath. When he spotted the thing that had made Djenya gape in horror, he froze.

  “Get down,” Djenya yelled as he shoved Sheyn aside.

  Sheyn hit the planks of the platform with bruising impact, and his paralysis broke. He scrambled to the hatch and lifted it and then looked back for Djenya.

  Djenya leaped away from a swiping blow of the demon’s talons. The demon flapped its leathery wings and rose a few feet before swooping down again. Djenya raised his sword and cut at the monster as it slashed at him. He fended off the daggerlike claws and cut at the beast as it flashed by. The goblin’s head seemed to split in half as it opened its fanged maw and bellowed in pain. Down in the courtyard, men looked up as the demon flew a circuit around the tower. Its warty, yellow hide glistened like sulfur in the torchlight as it dove on Djenya again.

  “No,” Sheyn whispered as he realized the demon intended to smash into Djenya like a living battering ram. The hatch banged down as he threw himself at Djenya, grabbing him around the waist. Sheyn and Djenya tumbled to a stop against the notched wall as the demon passed over them. Sheyn coughed in the stench the monster left in its wake.

  “What are you doing?” Djenya shouted. “Get out of here!” He pushed Sheyn toward the hatch as the demon swooped again.

  As Sheyn rose to his hands and knees, he was yanked violently backward.

  “Get down,” Kashyan barked as he shoved Sheyn toward the open hatchway. Without waiting to see if Sheyn obeyed, he ran to help Djenya.

  As Sheyn watched in horror, the demon caught Djenya’s blade in one of four claws and clutched his head with another. Djenya grasped the giant talons that squeezed his skull and tried to pry them loose. The demon used its other pair of claws to tear at Djenya’s arms as it beat its wings rapidly to hover in place. It was so intent on its prey that it didn’t see Kashyan until Kashyan’s sword clove through one of its limbs. As the arm fell to the ground, the monster clenched its talons and crushed Djenya’s skull. It dropped Djenya’s body as it flew up, keening in agony. Kashyan shook off his horror and raised his sword above his head. He would have to grieve later.

  The demon dropped below the level of the platform and flew halfway around it. With three powerful surges of its ribbed wings, it rose up and spotted the target. Tucking its wings close, the monster swooped, grabbed Sheyn around the waist, and rocketed upward again.

  Kashyan threw himself across the platform and caught hold of Sheyn’s ankle. He pulled backward and succeeded in keeping the goblin from flying away, but he was afraid Sheyn’s hip would be dislocated if he continued. Raising his sword to the limit of his reach, he slashed at the demon, trying to cut a tendon that would make it release its grip.

  Though it squealed like a teakettle on the boil, the monster would not let go. It twisted in midair and lashed out with two of the three remaining sets of talons. Kashyan parried the strikes, shearing through another claw but suffering two long slashes down his arm. As Kashyan swung his sword and kept his grip on Sheyn, the goblin raked his chest, opening deep wounds.

  “Let go,” Sheyn shouted.

  Kashyan tightened his grip on Sheyn’s ankle and raised his sword again. He was growing weaker with each drop of blood that fled his body, but he would fight until his strength was gone. He would not let the demon have Sheyn.

  Sheyn looked down into Kashyan’s face, and something turned over in his heart like the tumbler of a lock. “No,” he said. Abruptly, he couldn’t bear it if this brave man died, and he wished for the power to save him, to slay the demon, and punish those who sent it. His fear became a white-hot rage so large he couldn’t contain it. It seeped out of him, and where it touched the demon, it burned like molten metal.

  Kashyan was surprised when the demon let go of Sheyn, but he didn’t hesitate to take advantage. As Sheyn fell the short distance to the platform, Kashyan gripped his sword with both hands and leaped. At the top of his arc, he brought the sword down, severing one of the wings from the monster’s body. Kashyan landed badly, stumbled, and went to one knee beside Sheyn. For a moment, their eyes met, and then the thrashing demon raked a claw across Kashyan’s back. Kashyan reversed his grip on the hilt and thrust backward into the creature’s guts. As several Savaani soldiers emerged from the hatch, Kashyan shielded Sheyn with his body and let them finish the thing off.

  Kholya arrived as a soldier wearing a Black Hawk badge hacked through the demon’s neck. The monster flopped a few times and went still. An oily dew formed on the lumpy hide, and in moments, the carcass melted into a viscous puddle that evaporated like spit on hot iron. When Kholya could tear his gaze from the bizarre sight, he saw Kashyan.

  “I need men to carry him to a surgeon,” Kholya shouted as he knelt beside Kashyan. He glanced at Sheyn. “Are you hurt?”

  “Not as bad as he is,” Sheyn said. “Will he live?”

  “I don’t know,” Kholya said as he and three other men lifted Kashyan. “We need to get him to the surgeons.”

  “And Djenya,” Sheyn said.

  Kholya shot a look at Djenya’s headless body. “I’ll take care of him,” he said. “Come with me.”

  Sheyn followed Kholya through the fortress, accompanying the men who carried Kashyan.

  “Are you all right?” Kholya asked.

  “I’m a little shaky, but my wounds are almost healed.”

  “Do you need anything?”

  “Could you send for Velvet?”

  Kholya nodded and dispatched a man. When they reached the surgery, the physicians barred everyone but Kholya from entering. Sheyn was left to wait outside the door and was relieved when Luks arrived with his escort.

  “What happened?” Luks asked, staring at the rents in Sheyn’s blood-soaked tunic. “I heard people shouting about a demon.”

  “It would have taken me if Djenya hadn’t fought it off and—” Sheyn’s voice choked off for a moment. “He’s dead.”

  Before Luks could answer, Kholya came into the hall. “Why are you still here?” he asked. “You’d be more comfortable in your quarters.”

  “I want to see him,” Sheyn said.

  “It’s not a pretty sight,” Kholya said.

  Sheyn met Kholya’s gaze. “Please.”

  Kholya was startled by the raw emotion in Sheyn’s voice and eyes. Without a word, he held the door open so Luks and Sheyn could enter. In the quiet room, Kashyan lay unmoving on a narrow bed.

  Sheyn stared at the horrible wounds on Kashyan’s body, shocked that anyone could endure such damage and still breathe. “I did this,” he whispered.

  “What?” Luks leaned closer.

  �
��This is my fault. It happened because of me.”

  “You’re bonded. Of course he defended you.”

  “It isn’t fair. Those awful priests in that disgusting Temple are the ones who should suffer and die.” Sheyn clenched his hands into fists as a great bubble of rage rose in him. On fire with righteous anger, he trembled and his voice shook. “This man shouldn’t die.” Sheyn bowed his head. “I want him to live.” His fists thumped down on Kashyan’s chest and shoulder. “Bastard,” he said. “It’s not fair for you to leave just when you became interesting.”

  Luks stared in awe as Kashyan’s visible wounds began to close. He put a hand on Kholya’s arm when Kholya started forward and urged him to stay where he was. Silently, he took one of Sheyn’s hands and placed it over Kashyan’s heart.

  Sheyn felt the faint heartbeat and willed it to be stronger with every fiber of his being. He closed his eyes and let whatever was happening continue to happen.

  “What’s he doing?” Kholya whispered to Luks.

  “Healing Prince Kashyan.”

  “He can do that?”

  “Once all daaksim had this power, but it faded away. It seems it has returned in Pearl.”

  “If Kashyan lives, I’ll give him his weight in pearls.”

  Luks looked over at Sheyn. He was joyful that the lost gift of healing had returned, but part of him wondered at the Goddess’s choice. Why had She given Her Blessing to a foreigner who had no appreciation for what it meant to be a daaksi?

  When Sheyn collapsed from the energy drain, Kholya caught him. The commander put Sheyn on a bench while he fetched a surgeon. When he returned, he lifted Sheyn in his arms.

  “Lead me to your chamber,” Kholya said to Luks.

  “Yes, my lord.”

  Kholya carried Sheyn to the bed Luks pointed out and set him carefully down. “Sleep as long as you like,” he murmured. “You’ve earned a rest.”

  “I’ll see that he isn’t disturbed,” Luks said softly.

  “And I’ll put guards at each corner of the hallway as well as at the door.” Kholya smiled fondly at Sheyn. “My brother will live and so will this flower. Any who wish him harm will find an enemy in me.”