Shards of Time

by Lynn Flewelling

  “Nobody is going anywhere yet,” Thero told them with an obvious effort. “There are preparations we must make.”

  Micum stepped in through the tent flap, still tucking in his shirt. “I just met Doctor Kordira and she told me what happened. Tell me what you want me to do, Thero.”

  “As I was just telling them, there are preparations to be made. If we are dealing with a dyrmagnos, then we have to be ready, although I’m concerned about that, given what happened to Alec’s lightstone there.”

  “You mean your magic might not work there, either,” said Seregil.

  “Precisely. But we won’t know that unless I can find a way in with Alec’s help. That’s the first thing we must ascertain.”

  “And I’m just going to lie here and worry, apparently,” Seregil growled.

  “Can you ride?” asked Thero.

  “I can manage.”

  “Good. Go speak with Zella and learn all you can from her about the ambush. Also, I need that gold arm ring she showed us that first night. See if you can find out who the workmen were who went into that cave. I think one of them may have the Great Seal.”

  “If it’s there I’ll find it,” he replied, looking much happier now that he had something to do. “I better get cleaned up. Help me over to my tent, will you, Micum? And I think I’d like to speak with the good doctor, too.”

  Micum got him into his breeches and helped him to his tent.

  “Do you want to go to the bathing tent?” asked Micum as he eased Seregil down to sit on his own bed.

  “Later,” said Seregil. “Please send in the doctor and then go keep Thero company. He’s more brokenhearted than he’s letting on.”

  “What about you?”

  “I could ask you the same,” Seregil replied. “We’re going to find her and bring her back. That’s all I want to think about right now.”

  Micum clasped his hand, then went out.

  There was no question of going into Deep Harbor the way he looked, Seregil thought glumly, grimacing into the small mirror someone had left near the bed. The skin around the stitches in his scalp was a healthy-looking pink, but the hair he had left was a stiff, tangled mess. Between that and the bloodstained bandages swathing his chest, he was a sight to scare small children.

  Kordira stepped in and caught him shaking his head at his less-than-pleasing reflection. “May I examine you?”

  “I’d appreciate it.”

  She came and looked him over, touching his head here and there with gentle fingers. “I’m so sorry about Princess Klia.”

  “Thank you, but we don’t know yet if she’s dead or not.”

  “True.” She felt through his hair. “There’s no infection here. We’ll have to get those bandages off before I can tell you any more. Might I suggest a bath?”

  “You certainly may.” Leaving Kordira in the tent, he enlisted the help of a couple of soldiers to get him to the bathing tent. His back hurt a great deal from the wrenching it had taken, but he was able to walk, if slowly.

  It took three tubs of water to remove the crusted bandages and soak the blood from his hair. Swathed in flannels, with one wrapped around his head, he hobbled back to the tent without help. Kordira was waiting with fresh bandages and a fragrant honey salve.

  “Riding is a very bad idea, Baron,” she said, inspecting the wounds on his chest and neck. “You’ll open up these cuts again if you’re not careful.”

  “Please, call me Seregil. We don’t stand on ceremony here.” The truth was, riding a horse was looking less and less attractive. The bath had taken most of his energy, and his various wounds were burning like fire in spite of the salve. Even so, he let a young servant boy help him into fresh clothing while Kordira waited outside, then looked around for his sword belt. That, too, was covered in blood—his own, this time.

  “I’ll find you a new one, my lord,” the boy offered.

  “Thank you.” Seregil lowered himself carefully down on the edge of the cot. “Now where are my extra boots?”

  The boy found them and helped him into them. “Anything else, my lord?”

  “Please send the lady in.”

  “Well, you look a bit better,” Kordira observed with a wry look as she entered. “It’s a bit belated at this point, but it is good to finally meet you.”

  “Likewise, Doctor.” Seregil passed a hand ruefully across the two bare patches on his scalp. “I don’t usually look this piebald. You wouldn’t happen to have a comb?”

  Smiling, she produced a wooden comb from the purse at her belt. “May I?”

  “Please do. After all, we’ve only just met.”

  She chuckled as she sat next to him on the bed and draped a dry flannel over his shoulders to catch the water still dripping from his wet hair. With incredible gentleness, she worked through the tangles until the long locks were smooth. “Come out and sit in the sun to dry.”

  Seregil took her advice, settling on a stool in front of the tent. Her horse was tethered nearby, and Seregil saw that there were large leather panniers behind the saddle. “You came prepared.”

  “Always. I never know when I’ll have to deliver a baby or stitch up a gut. I have a few things that might help you, as well, if you’re willing to let a Plenimaran physician minister to you.”

  “Well, you did comb my hair, after all.”

  She went to the panniers and pulled out a few parcels and jars, then disappeared in the direction of the kitchens.

  As he waited for her to return, Seregil considered his situation. Find artifacts and bring the arm ring, Thero had said. Surely he could do a bit more than that.

  Kordira returned with a man carrying a tray.

  “Just set it here on the grass, please,” she told the man. He put it down at Seregil’s feet and she knelt beside it, heedless of her gown. It was of fine cloth but simply cut, as was the silk scarf around her shoulders, and she wore no jewelry. Her nails were short and stained from her work. And, he had to admit, she was very lovely. There had been a time, under better circumstances, when he’d already have been making plans to seduce such a beauty. He touched his scalp again; he wasn’t at his most attractive.

  She noticed. “It won’t do, you getting your head sunburned.” She untied her scarf and fashioned a headdress for him, then took a small silver mirror from her purse and let him look.

  The way she’d wrapped it resembled an Aurënfaie sen’gai, covering his head and twisted about the brow, with tails hanging over his left shoulder. “You know how to tie a sen’gai?”

  “I’ve seen ’faie wearing them.”

  “Slaves?”

  “Slaves aren’t allowed to wear them, as you no doubt know. No, free people, traders and the like. I traveled awhile before settling here.”

  “What brought you to Kouros?”

  “I came to see the oracle’s site and fell in love with the island and the people. And yes, there was slavery, but as I told your friends I hate it as much as any Skalan.”

  “Or Aurënfaie?”

  “I doubt I can match any ’faie’s hatred of slavery. I would never claim it.”

  Seregil gave her a crooked smile. “It’s very kind of you to say so.”

  “I know you don’t trust me,” she replied, busying herself with the bowls and cups on the tray. “Your friends don’t, either. It’s quite understandable. I just prefer to have it out in the open.”

  “Thank you.”

  She lifted a steaming mug from the tray and handed it to him. “This is marrow broth, with brandy, ironwort for strength, and a dash of sticky rush for the pain.” She took a clean cloth from a dish, showing him a helping of cold venison pie and two apples cut in quarters. “Drink the broth and eat as much as you’re able. Can you send someone to commandeer us a small cart? I don’t think you’re in any shape to ride.”

  Seregil sipped at the rich broth, then nodded. “I’m sure we can find something. How did you get here?”

  “I rode.”

  “Alone?”

&
nbsp; She looked amused. “I can take care of myself.”

  “With your charm to protect you?”

  “Oh, yes—and this.” She pulled her skirt up to her knee and showed him a shapely leg and the poniard in her boot.

  Seregil chuckled, showing her the poniard he carried in the same manner. “They do come in handy, don’t they?”

  “Since I’ve been on the island, I’ve never had to use it.”

  “But before?”

  “As I said, I traveled. You don’t always get a hospitable welcome, especially if you’re a woman.”

  That had certainly been his experience when he traveled or worked dressed as a woman, but he couldn’t really tell her that.

  She cocked her head slightly, which made her look that much more fetching. “I suppose it would be rude of me to wonder why a rich Skalan baron is getting himself into scrapes with ghosts and acting as a wizard’s scent hound.”

  “Some might say so,” Seregil replied and left it at that. Was it her charm and beauty, or blood loss that was making him feel so reckless?

  A cart was found. Seregil tied Windrunner on behind, with Kordira’s bay gelding, and struggled to pull himself up to the seat beside her as every cut and stitch on his body cried out with the effort. Kordira caught his elbow as he began to fall back. Gritting his teeth, he made it and sat very still, trying to get his breath back.

  “You really should stay in bed for another day or two,” she noted.

  “You’re absolutely right, Doctor, but I’m not going to.” He gripped the edge of the wooden seat. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

  She shook the reins over the cart horse’s back and they rattled off down the road toward Mirror Moon. They hadn’t gone more than half a mile when she reined the horse in. “You’re in too much pain, aren’t you?”

  It would have taken strength Seregil was using to stay upright to argue the matter.

  She produced a clay jar from under the seat and handed it to him. “This will help.”

  He shook his head. Out here alone, she could easily poison him.

  “Suit yourself,” she said. “Let’s see if we can get to Mirror Moon without you screaming.”

  “Thanks for the thought. Tell me about Lady Zella.”

  “As I told Thero, she was in and out of consciousness when I left her. Physically she wasn’t seriously harmed, but something of the madness you saw in Captain Sedge is in her. It might just be fear and shock. I’ll be able to tell better when I see her today, now that she’s safe and has had a chance to rest.”

  “Indeed?” As far as he knew, Kordira knew nothing of Sedge being cleansed of a demon. If Zella was possessed, they were going to need Thero’s help to get much out of her. “So someone from Mirror Moon came to fetch you?”

  “Yes, one of the young men who tends your horses. I attended to her, spent the night, and rode out to inform you and your friends this morning. I thought it would be better, hearing the news from me, since I’m better able to convey her condition.”

  “I see.” Pain was not improving his manners. “What exactly did Zella say?”

  “Most of it made little sense. She talked about a shadow, and a madness coming over the horses.”

  “But she didn’t say why she alone was spared?”

  “I asked her about that but she wasn’t lucid enough to understand the question.”

  “Hopefully she’ll be of sounder mind today.”

  “I wouldn’t count on it.”

  “Who found her?”

  “A young man in your employ, I believe. He was on his way to the city for something and noticed her lying under the bridge.

  “The bridge? That’s on the far side of the estate.”

  “Does that matter?”

  “I thought Klia might stop in at the house on her way by, that’s all.”

  Vhadä was the first to meet them at Mirror Moon as they came up the lane by the pool. Jumping up from his frog catching, he trotted along beside the cart. “Welcome back, Baron. Are you hurt, too?”

  “I did get into a bit of a scrape,” Seregil replied. “Run ahead and let the housekeeper know we’ve returned.”

  Vhadä nodded and ran ahead.

  “I made a much more impressive entrance last time I was here,” Seregil managed grimly as they came to a halt in the courtyard.

  Dorin and an Aurënfaie man who looked familiar helped him into the house and upstairs to the chamber where Lady Zella lay, the one Sedge had occupied. Kordira came up with them and helped them settle Seregil into an armchair by the bed, then sent them out.

  Zella lay motionless under the coverlet, hair loose over the pillow, her plain face pinched and pale. There were several livid bruises on her face.

  Seregil watched as Kordira felt the woman’s brow and pulse and smelled her breath. “How is she?”

  “A bit better, I think. I left the same decoction that I made for Sedge here, to be given to her by your housekeeper. Mistress Khiria is very kind.” She stroked Zella’s cheek. “Wake up, my dear.”

  Zella’s eyes fluttered open, and she looked up at the doctor with recognition and relief. “There you are! Oh, Doctor, I’ve had the vilest dreams.”

  “It’s all right. You’re perfectly safe here.”

  Zella looked around in confusion. “Where am I?”

  “At Mirror Moon,” Seregil told her. “You don’t remember coming here?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Why am I here?”

  “Baron Seregil has come to see how you are and discuss what happened to you,” Kordira explained.

  “Happened?” Zella looked from her to Seregil. “Please, my lord, what do you mean?”

  “Do you remember leaving the encampment with Princess Klia to go to Deep Harbor?”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened on the road? Where are Princess Klia and her escort?”

  Zella looked at him with mute horror.

  “They’re gone,” Seregil told her. “It appears that only you were spared. Don’t you remember telling the doctor about demons? Shadows, with no faces?”

  She shook her head, clutching the edge of the coverlet with trembling fingers. “But that was just a dream.”

  “No, my lady. Something happened, something very bad, and I need you to remember. When you were brought here yesterday you told Kordira that you’d seen demons.”

  Zella looked up at him in horror. “No! That was a nightmare. Tell him, Doctor, please!”

  “Something bad happened on the road between here and Menosi,” Seregil pressed. “Only you can tell me what that was.”

  Zella burst into tears. “If it wasn’t a dream—By the Maker, how can such things be?”

  “Did you see the demons take the others?” asked Seregil.

  “No, my lord, in my dream—That is, what I saw—”

  Kordira took her hand and gave Seregil a warning look. “You’re doing very well, Zella. Can you tell the baron what you did see in your dream?”

  Zella shuddered and covered her eyes. “Black evil things with long arms and no faces. They appeared on the hill by the road.”

  That certainly sounded like dra’gorgos, but how had they taken Klia while she was wearing Thero’s amulet, thought Seregil. “Can you tell me anything else? There must be something.”

  “That’s all I remember, my lord. I swear by the Four!” Zella sobbed. “Please, that’s all I can tell you!”

  “That’s quite enough for now, Seregil,” Kordira said firmly. “Perhaps you should speak with the man who found her?”

  Seregil didn’t appreciate being ordered about in his own home, but it was clear that Zella was useless to him as she was now.

  “Very well.” He rose painfully from the chair and limped from the room.

  Dorin was in the corridor and offered his arm at once. “My lord, tell me what I can do for you!”

  “I think I need to lie down.”

  “Your things are in the purple suite.”

 
Seregil shook his head and crossed to the room where he and Alec had seen the ghost woman. “This will do.” It was closer to Zella.

  He made it inside. “Thank you. I’ll take it from here.”

  “Let me help you.”

  “No. Go fetch me some tea, please. I can manage. Oh, and send up whoever it was who found her.”

  As soon as the door was closed, he leaned against it with a hiss of pain. He wasn’t quite sure why he’d sent Dorin away like that except for the underlying dislike he had for the man. He took a deep breath, knowing that if he didn’t get to the bed now, he was going to be sleeping on the floor. He set a course and unbuckled his belts as he went, letting them fall behind him. Kicking off his boots was agony but he managed it, then lay back on the bed with a sigh of relief.

  “May I come in?” asked Kordira through the door.

  “Yes,” Seregil rasped.

  Vhadä opened the door for her, and she came in with two mugs of tea. “I thought you could use this,” she said, taking the chair by the bed and passing him a mug. “And no poison, I promise,” she added with a wry smile.

  “Isn’t that what a poisoner would say?” asked Seregil. The tea was just what he did need and he sipped it gratefully. “Do you think Zella is telling the truth?”

  “Why in the world would she lie?”

  “That’s what I’m wondering.”

  “I don’t think she’s clear enough in her mind to lie. May I check your dressings?”

  “Later, thank you.”

  A knock came at the door and a young ’faie man with dark, short-cropped hair stepped in. “You sent for me, my lord?”

  Seregil let the title pass. “I don’t think we’ve met.”

  “I arrived after you and Baron Alec left for Menosi, my lord. My name’s Syrel. You took in my brother, Anri the weaver.”

  “Ah yes. So, tell me about finding Zella.”

  “I was riding to Deep Harbor to fetch some friends of mine back to Mirror Moon. I was coming down off the bridge when I noticed her lying on the riverbank below.”

  “She was on the far side of the bridge?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “Go on.”

  “I went down to her and found she was alive. I got her up on my horse and brought her back, then Steward Dorin sent me for the doctor.”