[Shadowed Path 01] - A Woman Worth Ten Coppers

by Morgan Howell

  Honus’s lips betrayed a hint of a smile. “Why do you say that?”

  “I hear he gave you a purse to purchase clothing for a woman.”

  “And you deem me unworthy for such a task?”

  “Entirely,” said Cara, as she held out her palm. “Hand it over.”

  Honus grinned and brought Cara the purse. She took it and slipped it into the pocket of her short robe. “I’ll get Yim outfitted while you and brother waste the day gabbing. Are you hungry, Yim?”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  “For Karm’s sake, call me Cara. The last thing I need is more formality. Come on, let’s eat.”

  With Honus’s leave, Yim followed Cara down to the common room, where a waiter brought them porridge. “Zounds,” said Cara, “we’ve been here three weeks outfitting for the trip to Averen. Do you know what that’s like? Me being the general’s sister?”

  “I thought Cronin said he’s no longer a general,” said Yim.

  “Oh, that’s what he says, but it makes na difference. As soon as we’re back in Averen…” Cara stopped herself, realizing she was being indiscreet. “Anyway, I have na one to talk to who does na treat me like some…some…I do na know…like some glass flower. Everybody’s far too polite. Like, if they said something wrong, I’d break. Or more like it, Cronin would break them. He’s so protective. But you’ve been with Honus! Zounds, I had such a crush on him. Na that it made the slightest difference. I could have been his baby sister for all he noticed. So, what’s it like?”

  “He’s my master,” said Yim.

  “I still can na believe Honus has a slave! Does he…you know…”

  Yim blushed. “Does he what?”

  “All the masters in Bremven sleep with their slaves. I mean, if they’re young and pretty. Why, even if they’re plain and old! But maybe I should na ask…”

  “You shouldn’t. Honus is a private man.”

  Cara grinned excitedly. “I knew it! When I heard that he drew a sword for your honor, and you a slave…”

  “He didn’t draw a sword.”

  “Well, almost the same thing. Honus never loses his temper. Believe me, I know. But when he threatened Yuv because he insulted you…well…then it was clear to me and I knew.”

  Yim turned bright red. “Cara!” she whispered. “Knew what? Do you think we’re…we’re…”

  Cara beamed. “Lovers!” she said. “It’s so romantic!”

  “It’s not like that at all,” said Yim in shocked tones. “I carry his pack and cook for him, nothing more.”

  “That’s it?” said Cara, her face falling. “That does na sound like fun.”

  “It’s not.”

  Cronin and Honus strode along the empty bridge after breakfast, but each seemed loath to bring up what weighed most on his mind. They stopped midspan and quietly gazed at the river and distant mountains before Cronin said at last, “Tell me the manner of Theodus’s death.”

  Honus sighed. “It happened in the duchy of Lurwic a moon ago. The duchy lies northwest of Luvein, beyond the Turmgeist Forest.”

  “North of Luvein? That’s far afield.”

  “It is. We were there because Theodus met a mercenary named Alaric, whose troop had been hired by the duke. It seemed Lord Bahl was causing unrest.”

  “I thought Theodus had lost his interest in politics.”

  “He had. Yet, upon consulting my runes, he thought something was at work in Lurwic, something beyond the contentions of men. The madness of which you spoke last night was abroad there also.”

  “Men are quick to hate.”

  “Was it always thus? Theodus wasn’t sure.”

  “Strife and discord have ever been with us. Theodus was wise; he knew that.”

  “Have you ever traveled through Luvein?”

  “Never. What’s the point? The roads are bad, and there’s naught but ruins.”

  “Over the past few years, Theodus and I have toured it up and down. Men have always been greedy, but why would a greedy man destroy what he conquers? What profit lies in mindless slaughter? Theodus came to believe that something unnatural occurred in Luvein, something that haunts it to this day. He sought to understand it and its cause. That led him to Lord Bahl.”

  “Bahl?” said Cronin. “Theodus could have stayed in Vinden. Bahl was here before Theric died.”

  “At his brother’s hand, you suspect.”

  “I’m sure of it,” said Cronin. “After Bahl’s visit, Morvus was a changed man. Resentful. Ill-tempered. Theric died soon afterward of an illness that reminded me of a poisoned wound. Emperor Morvus is as tyrannical and reckless as his brother was just and prudent.”

  “I’m not surprised,” said Honus. “All those who took the name of Bahl were able to bring out the worst in men. In the present Lord Bahl, that power is particularly strong.”

  “I’ve seen it in action,” said Cronin. “When Bahl visited Bremven, most men fawned over him. Too few felt like me and detested him.”

  “You’ve met him?”

  “Aye, and I’ll admit he has a presence. You always knew when he entered a room. I swear, it grew colder.”

  “I’ve heard that tale.”

  “’Tis true.”

  “The Empire’s still strong in Vinden. You saw Bahl with his powers veiled. In Lurwic, he was not so subtle. He turned it into another Luvein.”

  “Do you mean he destroyed it?”

  “It’s a wasteland now. I saw it happen.”

  “You fought with Bahl?” said Cronin, looking intently at Honus. “This is of particular interest to me.”

  “So you’re not leaving Bremven because you’re tired of court.”

  “The real reason is I fear for Averen.”

  “To whom have you spoken of this?”

  “Na one at court except some trusted fellow clansmen,” replied Cronin. “I’ve spoken to the chieftains in the past, but they remained unconcerned. They claimed the might of the Iron Palace has always waxed and waned. Yet to me, it’s like a vine on a ruin. Its leaves may wither each winter, but the vine remains, and season by season, it tears the stones asunder.”

  “And the vine is in the fullness of its growth,” said Honus.

  “The chieftains now see wisdom in my warnings,” said Cronin. “They’ve withdrawn the highland regiments to Averen.”

  “Didn’t the emperor object?”

  Cronin laughed. “Aye, but if he had the men to stop us, he would na need us in the first place.”

  “I think the move was wise. It’s pointless to look toward Bremven for aid.”

  “I just hope ’tis na too late. So, how does one fight Bahl?”

  “I don’t have an answer,” replied Honus. “I was one of two survivors after the siege of Lurwic. The other was a coward who hid. Don’t ask me how to win such a fight.”

  “Still, you must have learned something.”

  “It wasn’t like when the horse raiders invaded the Eastern Reach. There was no opposing force until the very end. Mostly, the invasion was like a pestilence.”

  “I do na understand.”

  “Folk who lived in peace for generations would suddenly be at one another’s throat over some long-forgotten grievance. Men committed atrocities with hoes, pitchforks, and bare hands. And it spread, each crime spurring fresh ones. People fled their homes. Some starved. Others turned brigand and increased the violence.”

  “How do you know Bahl was behind that?”

  “Theodus saw his hand in the growth of the Devourer’s following. The two are always linked. Those black-robed priests precede Bahl like crows before a wolf. When the folk of Lurwic began to praise the Devourer, we searched for Bahl. We tramped the countryside, and I tranced to roam the Dark Path. Although we never encountered him, we found the mark of his influence. Everywhere, men’s hearts were turning toward hate.”

  “You speak as though he’s more than a man.”

  “Perhaps he is. How can different men behave the same and possess the same power for generat
ion after generation? Sons seldom mirror the father, except in this line. Theodus wanted to learn why. That quest led to his death.”

  “How did it happen?”

  Honus’s face tightened. He was silent for a moment before he took a deep breath and continued his story. “When Lord Bahl finally invaded Lurwic, he used a force that was more like a mob than an army. Most were the duke’s own people, turned against him. They came like ants and fought like them also. They were ill armed and unskilled, but they overcame every obstacle with their numbers and recklessness. It’s hard to fight men who don’t fear death, who’ll let you cleave their heads if they can wound you first.”

  “They sound like monsters.”

  “They were. Yet they were also ordinary men. Men who kissed their wives and children before they went to slay their neighbors and throw weeping babes into fires. It was madness beyond belief, and it reached its height at the duke’s castle. The army approached with Lord Bahl at the rear to drive it on. A traitor opened the castle gates, and the invaders poured in. We slaughtered them until our arms ached, and still they pressed on. They slew the duke. Then they came for Theodus.”

  Honus halted as his stoicism crumbled under the weight of his memories. When he spoke again, his voice was raw with pain. “I tried to protect him, but it was like fighting a river. They overflowed me.”

  Honus paused to summon the strength to continue. “They tore him apart! There was no more left of him than what a pack of wolves might leave. Then, his assassins simply stood there—everyday men released from a spell. Yet, when I saw Theodus’s blood dripping from their hands, their madness visited me. Karm forgive me, but I murdered them all. They didn’t resist. Only when none were standing did I grasp the iniquity of my deed.”

  Honus’s frame wrenched as if racked by sobs, and Cronin put his arm around him. “Do na condemn yourself for avenging Theodus. You were his Sarf. How could you do otherwise?”

  “You don’t understand,” said Honus. “Theodus would’ve never wanted such revenge. I shamed his memory.”

  Cronin watched his friend repress his grief and hide it away. After a spell of silence, Honus continued his tale. “Bahl departed right after the battle, leaving a ruined land filled with enmity. I roamed the castle and the town, finding naught but corpses. It wasn’t until the next day that I found a drunken squire hiding in a cellar. Before then, I washed the blood from my clothes as best I could. I meditated and purged myself of hate. When my mind was clear, I tranced, seeking Theodus.”

  “You tranced after a battle?” said Cronin, his voice awed.

  “All was chaos. The Dark Path thronged with confused and anguished spirits. Such memories! Such regrets! It tears at you, Cronin. It was a hard thing to do. Yet, even worse, I couldn’t find Theodus’s spirit. It was as if it had been consumed.”

  Cronin shivered as though the warm day had turned chill. “Could the tales of the Devourer be true? Can a man’s spirit be destroyed?”

  “I don’t know,” said Honus. “All I know is that darkness is spreading over the world. What good is a sword against the advance of night?”

  “I had na expected so dire a tale,” said Cronin. “Yet, I fear I shall soon see such things firsthand. Bahl’s gaze is on Averen. Already, black-robed ones travel its roads.”

  “That bodes ill.”

  “Come with me, Honus. Together, we may defeat Bahl yet.”

  “I cannot,” replied Honus. “I must go to the temple and find a Bearer to guide me. Only then will Karm direct my path again. Perhaps it will take me to Averen.”

  “I pray that it does.”

  Honus and Cronin remained on the bridge, engaged in cheerless talk. No traveler overheard them, and the ruins of Luvein lacked living ears. Only when the sun set did they return to the unblighted side of the river. If Cronin brooded that evening, he hid it during dinner. Honus imitated his friend. As the ale flowed and the room grew boisterous, Cronin and Honus acted as if they had idled the day discussing fishing.

  Cara entered the dining hall with Yim. “Brother,” she announced, “if Yim can eat with the officers, then I should, too. With all these men, she’ll need some intelligent conversation.” Then, without her brother’s leave, she guided Yim to an empty spot at the head table and joined her.

  Cronin didn’t speak to Cara, but smiled and turned to Honus. “It seems your slave has provided my sister a long-sought opportunity.”

  Honus didn’t reply, for he was struck dumb by Yim’s new attire. It was a practical traveling outfit—sturdy sandals, baggy pants resembling a skirt that ended just below the knee, a sleeveless shirt and a long-sleeved overblouse. It wasn’t the style of Yim’s new clothes that silenced him—it was their color. They were dark blue.

  Cara seemed to expect his reaction. “Na a peep about the color, Honus. I paid, so I picked out everything. If Yim’s going to travel with you, she ought to blend in. Anyway, it’s about time she had something decent. I saw that bloodstained cloak you bought her. Zounds! I’m having it dyed to hide the stain. And yes, it’ll be blue also. Dark blue.”

  Cronin attempted to glare sternly at his audacious sister, but amusement overwhelmed his frown. “By Karm!” he whispered to Honus. “Your slave looks like a Bearer.”

  Yim grew nervous under Honus’s silent gaze. “Master…”

  “The color suits you.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  CARA KNOCKED on Honus’s door early the next morning. When he opened it, she smiled brightly. “Good morning, Honus, I’m here to rescue Yim.”

  “I didn’t know she was in peril.”

  “She’s like to die of boredom. I know brother intends to chatter with you all day.”

  “It’s true that we’ll hold counsel.”

  “And while you chatter, I’ll hold counsel with Yim.”

  “And what grave matters will you discuss?”

  “Things beyond your understanding. Come, Yim, I’m starving.”

  “You talk as if she’s your slave, not mine.”

  “Zounds, Honus, you’re na silly enough to believe a man can truly own a woman?” Without waiting for a response, Cara headed down the hallway.

  Yim looked at Honus hesitantly. “Master?”

  “Go with her,” said Honus, smiling good-naturedly. “Just don’t believe everything she says.”

  Yim hurried to join Cara in the dining room. She found her sitting alone at a table, eager to talk. “Did he say anything about your blue clothes?” asked Cara in a conspiratorial tone. “I mean…Zounds! The way he stared at you when you came to dinner, that was something! I expected…well, I do na know what I expected. So tell me—did he say anything to you later, after dinner?”

  “He didn’t mention it.”

  “Well, that’s Honus, through and through. It’s so hard to tell what he’s thinking.”

  “He didn’t seem angry,” said Yim.

  “How could he be angry? I bought them, so he could na blame you. You’re a slave. You don’t have a say in anything.”

  “Am I supposed to take comfort in that? Suppose I don’t like blue?”

  “But you do! Do you na?”

  “It’s a little late to ask.”

  For a moment, Cara was silenced.

  “It’s fine,” said Yim. “The clothes suit me.”

  “Of course they suit you. But you’re right, I did na ask, did I? I was just doing it to help you.”

  “Help me? How?”

  “Oh, you’ll find out, and—of course—it was a great trick on Honus. I really could na resist.”

  “How do you dare tease him?” asked Yim. “He has a temper, even if he doesn’t show it.”

  “Oh, Honus is like family. After Mother died, I came to Bremven. I was only nine and grew up around Honus. He was always at our villa. When I was older, I thought he was my dream man for the longest time. It broke my heart when he got married.”

  “Married!” exclaimed Yim. “I didn’t know he’s married.”

  “He’s na anymo
re. Cynetha died of the water fever. She was a Seer, so I guess she knew she was going to die all along. I do na think I could stand that. I mean, how could she get married, knowing she was going to die a moon later?”

  “She didn’t know she was going to die,” said Yim.

  “Oh, do na be silly! You had na even heard of her until just now, so how could you possibly know? I mean, zounds, she was a Seer!”

  “The goddess reveals only what she wants you to see,” said Yim. “Visions suit her purposes, not ours. Cynetha wouldn’t have known her fate.”

  “Come on now, Yim, how can you say that? You talk like you’ve had visions yourself and that’s…oh holy Karm!” Cara lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you have visions?”

  Yim nodded.

  “Zounds! So what’s it like? I mean, does the goddess just pop up from nawhere for a little chat? Boy, the most important person I ever get to talk to is Cronin, and that’s only because he’s my brother. But you get to speak with Karm! How exciting! So, what does she say?”

  “I can’t talk about it.”

  Cara let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re just like my brother! Nabody tells me anything!”

  “Cara…”

  “Nay, nay, it’s all right, I’m used to it.” For an awkward spell, both women were silent. Then Cara’s mood lifted and she changed the subject. “So, your cloak should be ready this morning and the extra shirt and the pants, too. After we pick them up, I’ll take you to my favorite place. Nabody knows about it but me, so do na ask where it is. I can have secrets, too.” As an afterthought, Cara asked, “Can you swim?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. Now, that’s the only hint you’ll get. You’ll just have to suffer from suspense until we finish our business in the village.”

  After breakfast, Cara and Yim walked to the nearby settlement where the principal trade was outfitting travelers. They were escorted by a bodyguard assigned to them by Cronin. The man said nothing, but his presence dampened Cara’s exuberance. They went to the tailor, picked up the remaining items of Yim’s wardrobe, and returned to the Bridge Inn. There, Cara took Yim to her room and dismissed the bodyguard, saying she and Yim would spend the day there.