White Star

by Elizabeth Vaughan

  Reader jumped up, leaving his book on his chair. The small man wiped his palms on his pants as he darted to the door and jerked it open.

  Blackhart stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the day. His eyes pierced the room. He looked at the other door, watching Timothy’s back end disappear, then focused on Archer. “Where is she?”

  Archer jerked his head toward the main stairs.

  Blackhart headed across the room and up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

  “I’m finding someplace else to be,” Reader said, gathering up his book. “You?”

  Archer looked up from his tools, and grinned. “Nah. Not gonna miss this.”

  ORRIN threw open the door, striding into the room. “Evelyn, we need—”

  She wasn’t there. There was a lad kneeling before the fire—short, dark hair, dark clothes—tossing a long braid of white hair into the fire.

  Furious, Orrin pulled his sword, crossing the room to grab the lad by the shoulder. He threw him to the ground, sword tip at his throat. “Didn’t I say she was under my protection? What have you—”

  Silver blue eyes flashed up at him with a grin. “Didn’t recognize me, did you?”

  He froze, standing there stupid. “Evie? What—?” He raised his sword away from her neck.

  “I cut my hair,” she said, smiling as she stood and brushed herself off. “I guess it worked, eh?”

  Orrin’s breath caught in his throat. “You cut it?”

  “Of course. It was a danger.” Evelyn bent over, tucking the braid deeper into the coals. “Sidian let me borrow his knife.”

  Orrin glanced at the hearth where Sidian’s knife, with its bone handle and odd stone blade, lay.

  “I’ve seen one like it before, but I can’t remember where.” Evelyn looked up at him. “Orrin? Are you all right?”

  Orrin just stared at her.

  Her short hair framed her face, lying like a silky fringe on her soft skin. It gave her a soft sweetness that he hadn’t seen in her before, in her formal attire. The dark clothing was form-fitting in ways that made his entire body pay close attention. Freed from her heavy white robes, she was lithe and lovely, her breasts straining against her tunic, her legs . . .

  Orrin could only hope his tongue was still in his mouth. He sheathed his sword, to gain a moment to pull himself together. “Your hair”—he swallowed hard—“how did you darken . . .”

  “I used soot, with a bit of oil. Timothy and Sidian suggested it.”

  Sidian, again. Orrin was going to kill the man.

  Evelyn grimaced. “It feels dirty, but it’s safer this way.” She tilted her head. “You can put your sword away, you know.”

  He flushed, and sheathed the blade, still stunned out of reckoning. “Oh, Evie . . .”

  Evelyn laughed, her eyes made brighter by the darkened hair. She cupped his cheek with her palm. “Oh, Orrin, it’s just hair. It grows back, foolish man.”

  She lifted herself on tiptoe, and kissed his open mouth.

  Blackhart groaned, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her in return.

  HE felt like summer.

  Like a warm summer day, hazy with heat and life. His hands moved over her, stroking her back as he claimed her mouth. Evelyn shivered under his touch, melting into him, feeling more through the thinner cloth of her dark clothing. She hungered for this, for his touch, for more.

  His lips were warm and soft, and she opened hers under his assault, feeling his tongue touch hers. Her hands moved too, exploring the hard muscles of his back, moving lower to press him closer, feeling such a wave of desire flood over—

  The door opened. Orrin broke the kiss, and stepped back.

  “Oops,” Archer said, “sorry.”

  The door closed. A muffled voice came through. “Just checking to see if anyone was dead.”

  Orrin’s glare at the door was murderous. “One last chance, woman. Leave now. The odium tried to get you once, and now you are talking about walking in there like a lamb to the slaughter, licking the farmer’s hand as he leads you to—”

  Archer’s muffled voice came through the door. “She ain’t going; I ain’t going. We got about a nothing chance of—”

  With a snarl, Orrin took two steps, and wrenched the door open.

  Archer’s eyes widened a bit, and he took a step back from the door.

  “Get your ass away from this door, and get the others down in the main room,” Orrin said. “Spread out the gear, start making decisions. We need a plan.” He slammed the door shut.

  Evelyn took a deep breath. “You said it yourself. We’ll never be rid of them if we don’t attack the source. I’d rather do that than hide and wait for them to come.”

  “Fool woman,” he whispered, his eyes grim.

  She stared at him, reached out, but he took another step back and then another, his face stark and full of pain. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said roughly.

  “Well, I do,” she growled, “and I was thinking the same thing. Orrin, I—”

  “No.” To her frustration, he shook his head, and took another step back toward the door. “I can’t—this isn’t right.”

  “Orrin”—Evelyn took a breath—“I’m no virgin. My order is not celibate—”

  “But you’re chaste,” Orrin pointed out. “You took a vow of chastity, right?”

  Evelyn blushed. “I . . . yes . . . but—”

  “No, no—you don’t see.” Orrin’s chest heaved. “I want you, by all the Gods I want you—”

  A flush of pleasure washed over her at his words.

  “But there is no future in it, between you and I.” Orrin raised his hands as if to ward her off. “I’ll not start something I can’t. . . .” He stopped, and swallowed hard. “I’ll not have that on my soul as well.”

  “Why don’t you let me worry about our souls?” Evelyn said. “I—”

  “What’s one more vow broken, eh?” Orrin asked, his face stark with pain.

  Stung, Evelyn stood silent.

  “I’ll take you with us,” Orrin said. “It’s what I have to do to have the best chance of winning through.” He walked toward the door, his face set. “Besides, I doubt I could stop you even if I tried.” He opened the door and gave her a haunted look. “After that, I’ll see you off, back to Edenrich. Back to your life, your Church, your friends. Far away from the likes of me.”

  She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. “Come down to the main room. We need to start to prepare.”

  With that, he was gone.

  TWENTY

  EVELYN walked down the stairs with some hesitation, but to her relief, Orrin wasn’t in the main room.

  It seemed that everyone else was.

  Men spilled into the room, their arms filled with weapons, gear, and supplies. Evelyn stayed on the bottom step for a moment, her hand on the railing, taking it all in.

  Orrin’s men were spread out, each at a table, emptying saddlebags and packs, spreading out all kinds of weapons and armor. They were asking questions, confirming orders, and explaining their needs. More men arrived, but some left, each with a purpose in his step and a gleam in his eye. There was a sense of anticipation in the air that surprised her, given that Orrin had just been in such a rage.

  Reader was closest, so she went to his side. He had a series of daggers spread out before him, a sharpening stone in his hand.

  “You all seem in good spirits for men headed into peril,” she commented. “Why so pleased?”

  They all looked at her when she spoke and, for a moment, quiet fell as they stared at her, stunned.

  Evelyn flushed a bit, putting her hand up to the back of her neck.

  “Well, see, ma’am, it’s like this.” Archer, at the next table, pulled a tangled rope out of a sack. “We’re going, that’s true enough. And you’re going with us.”

  “And you ain’t all white and glittering,” Reader said. “And Blackhart’s leading us.”

  “We know the Keep,” Sidian added
. “Know the land, so to say.”

  Archer nodded. “Gives us a bit of an edge. Not much, but some.”

  Timothy and Thomas nodded as they spread out their gear, shaking out bedrolls.

  “Odium are stupid,” Mage added. He had a cluster of papers in his hands, shuffling through them. “We can’t—”

  “Get cocky.” Orrin’s deep voice came from the door. He pushed past a man in the doorway, went to a clear table, and dumped his saddlebags. “You get cocky, and we die.”

  “Yes, sir.” Mage’s shoulders slumped a bit as he turned back to his task.

  “Besides,” Archer said, “we’ve been holding them off. It’s time to take the fight to them. Get this thing stopped. Finish it, one way or the other.”

  A chorus of “ayes” filled the room.

  “It’s a challenge,” Sidian added. “A task worthy of our skills, to test our mettle.”

  Evelyn walked over, and offered him his blade, handle first. “Thank you.”

  “It did its work well?” Sidian asked.

  “It did,” Evelyn confirmed. “Sheared right through the braid.”

  “Kind of you to offer it,” Orrin muttered.

  “She was willing to make a sacrifice for us. It was right she use this blade.” Sidian bowed his head to Evelyn, took the knife, and sheathed it.

  “Pack enough food for three days,” Orrin said. “Dried meat and hardtack. Waterskins, because the wells may have been fouled. No bedrolls, we’ll take cloaks. Plan for tight quarters, fighting in hallways. Pack light.”

  “Horses?” Timothy asked.

  “We aren’t taking horses,” Orrin said. “Figure a day to get in, deal with what we find, and get out. But we’ll plan for three.”

  “We’re walking?” Thomas frowned.

  Orrin shook his head. “Evelyn will open a portal.”

  “Wish I could,” Mage said with envy.

  “It’s not an easy spell to cast. There’s very few who can do it,” Evelyn said. “I’d be willing to teach you, once this is over.”

  Mage’s face lit up, and he gave her a shy nod.

  “Where’s she gonna open up a portal?” Archer asked.

  A horn sounded. All heads turned, and men could be heard headed for the wall, taking up their weapons.

  Orrin returned to his task. “The faster we leave, the faster that ends.”

  The others returned to their work.

  Dorne came into the room, carrying a sack and a handful of empty waterskins. “I’ve dried meat and fruit and hard biscuits. There’s plenty. If you’re leaving in the morning, I can make honey bars tonight, and have them ready for you.”

  Archer grinned. “I’ll take all you can make.”

  Dorne snorted as he left.

  “Dorne, we need bandages,” Evelyn called out. “And something to clean wounds with, if you have anything like that.”

  He raised his hand to show he’d heard, and bustled out.

  “Here, Lady,” Timothy said to Evelyn, as he handed her a pack. “This is spare.”

  Evelyn thanked him, and started to sort the food into equal portions. “Where do you want to go?” She repeated Archer’s question.

  Orrin stopped, and stared down at the table. “It has to be a shrine?”

  “That works best.” Evelyn nodded. “It’s easier to hold the image in mind.”

  “There’s a shrine to the Lady in the Keep,” Orrin said slowly. “It was on the first floor. If we could go there . . .”

  Evelyn gave him a doubtful look. “I’ve never been there. I might be able to open a portal, based on a description, but it’s tricky. And there’s no way of knowing—”

  “It can’t have changed much since I saw it last,” Orrin said. “No one used it. It might be a bit dusty—”

  Reader cleared his throat. “Might not be a good idea, sir.”

  The others nodded.

  “And why not?” Orrin asked.

  Reader darted a guilty look at the kitchen door and lowered his voice. “Might could be that things have changed in the room.”

  Archer nodded. “Might could be a bit desiccated.”

  Evelyn exchanged a confused look with Orrin. “Desicca—”

  Sidian snorted. “Desecrated?”

  “That’s it.” Archer looked satisfied.

  Reader nodded. “Might could be that, sir.”

  Evelyn looked at them in horror. “What did you do?”

  Reader gave her a sheepish look. “Not much to do, being in the Keep and all, begging your pardon.”

  Orrin covered his face with his hand. It took Evelyn a moment to realize that he was trying very hard not to laugh. “What about that shrine in the village?”

  “The one where you captured me?” Evelyn asked.

  “Yes,” Orrin said, lowering his hand. His face was serious, but his eyes were bright. “That’s less than an hour from the Keep, and—”

  “I don’t know,” Evelyn said. “I only caught a glimpse before someone threw a bag over my head.”

  “Er . . .” Orrin looked away.

  “It was a clean bag,” Reader said. “Made a point of that.”

  “And hit me over the head,” Evelyn added.

  “Just a tap,” Timothy offered.

  “We was careful,” Thomas said. “Gentle, even.”

  “And clapped me in spell chains,” Evelyn pointed out.

  “They were new ones,” Mage observed quietly. “Made ’em myself.”

  “And slung me over a horse on my stomach and hauled me to the Keep and put me in the dungeon,” Evelyn finished.

  There was no response to that.

  Evelyn raised her gaze to the ceiling. “I might be able to do it.” She lowered her eyes and gave them all a look. “Or did you boys entertain yourselves there as well?”

  “Nah, ’tis all in one piece,” Archer said. “We started the looting at the tavern and never quite got around to it.”

  That brought a strangled cough from Orrin. “Well, thanks be for that mercy. So, we portal to the shrine, travel by foot, and go in through one of the hidden doors.”

  Dorne came back in. He brought Evelyn a basket of cloths, and some jars and bottles. “Take whatever you need.” Dorne headed back to the kitchen. “I’d best see to my pots.” He paused in the doorway. “And boys?”

  They all turned to look at him.

  “Anything you put wrong in the Lady’s shrine will be put right again, once this is over. And by your own hands and the sweat of your own brows.”

  The room was very quiet. Evelyn put her hand over her mouth.

  “I’ll be happy to supervise,” Dorne said.

  He ducked back into the kitchen, ignoring their groans.

  TWENTY-ONE

  LATER that evening, after the gear was packed and blades were sharpened, they sat and started to plan their route.

  Orrin had taken some charcoal from the smithy, and they’d drawn a rough map on the stone hearth of the fireplace. This was more for Evelyn’s benefit than anything else, since they all knew the place. They’d reviewed the path they’d take from the village to the walls of the Keep, and how they’d enter the Keep proper. It turned out that Reader had kept his set of keys. He shrugged. “Ya never know when things might be useful.”

  “So, we’ll assume that the odium are still standing watch in the places we put them,” Orrin said. “There’s a chance that they’ve moved, but our watch locations were good ones.”

  Archer nodded, reached out, and tapped a position by one of the towers on the inner wall. “I’ll take position here and wait.”

  Orrin shook his head. “I can’t leave you there.”

  Archer’s face grew very still. “Gotta cover the retreat.”

  “I need you down there,” Orrin said quietly.

  The silence between the two men grew. Evelyn gave Reader a questioning look.

  “He don’t like tight places,” Reader explained. “Make him sweat.”

  “Not that.” Archer hunched his
shoulders. “What good’s an archer in them corridors?”

  Orrin just looked at him.

  Archer sighed. “And I don’t like tight places much.”

  Orrin nodded. “But you throw a dagger better than any man here.”

  “No good hand to hand,” Timothy said.

  Evelyn’s eyes opened in surprise. She expected Archer to object, but the man just shrugged his shoulders. “Nah, he’s right. Not much good at fighting close. Never have been.”

  “We need to know each other’s strengths and weaknesses.” Orrin leaned back and took a mug of kav. “Even if the truth hurts.”

  Sidian laughed. “I’m good with my weapons in a fight, but I need room to swing.”

  “Decent with a bow,” Archer said.

  Sidian smiled, his teeth gleaming against his dark skin, and gave Archer a nod of thanks.

  “Timothy and Thomas are good with swords and shields, but better with pole arms.”

  Timothy nudged Thomas. “Long pointy sticks.” They both chuckled, as if at some private joke.

  Archer wrinkled his nose. “Can’t throw for shit.”

  “True, but the way they work together as a team is uncanny,” Orrin pointed out. “I still think you are twins.” He pointed at the map of the dungeon. “Where we can go two abreast, they are behind the front line. They attack, thrusting their spears between us, and do a good deal of damage.”

  “Who takes the front?” Evelyn asked.

  “Sidian and I.” Orrin turned his head to look at her. “You’ll walk with Mage, and Reader and Archer will bring up the rear.”

  Reader nodded. “I’m best with a dagger, and I’m fast. Can sometimes slide through and get behind them, sometimes. That lets me hamstring them, and take them down.”

  “He’s good with locks, too,” Sidian said. “Hands like a lady.”

  They all chuckled as Reader looked offended.

  “That leaves me, ma’am,” Mage offered. “I’m decent with spells. Not much with weapons, but I’ve been trying to practice.”

  Evelyn tilted her head. “You are an apprentice?”

  Mage’s face turned red. “I was . . . I—”

  Orrin interrupted. “He’s still an apprentice. His master mage was involved in the attack on Athelbryght, and died. That’s when I asked Mage to join my hearth-band.”