Assassin of the Heart: Book Two: The Temple Islands Series

by Richard Parker

  “One step at a time,” she said softly, almost to herself. “To create a bridge you must join the two halves of your consciousness without returning. It’s the only way I can explain it…watch.”

  He watched closely, not so much with his eyes as with his mind. The projected Jess went very still, and Gwaynn’s attention went from her to her body and back. In the distance he noticed that Laynee had again projected and now stood next to her body watching them. There was a smudge of fog next to her that Gwaynn found curious but before he could ask about it a small disturbance appeared at about the half way between the two na Gall’s. The air was swirling, picking up leaves and dead grass as it slowly grew stronger, and then suddenly a horizontal vortex appeared, linking the two separate conscious states of the Traveler. The wind grew to a roar, louder and louder, and then na Gall’s body stepped into her end of the vortex and as if by magic the two were one. Jess na Gall turned to face Gwaynn, though now whole she could no longer see his projection.

  “Concentrate on joining your halves,” she encouraged, and Gwaynn tried to do so, but after several moments with no progress, Jess projected next to him once again.

  “You’ve achieved the most difficult element of Traveling,” she explained quietly to him. “Your two conscious selves will naturally come together in a short time. Without effort they will flow together like water, without resistance or assistance. It takes effort and energy to keep them apart. One is the natural state. You must allow them to come together from a distance, then you can Travel.”

  Gwaynn tried again to join his halves. He felt the unconscious pull, the desire to rejoin, but the desire just continued to grow stronger without a vortex, without results.

  “What do I do?” he asked without frustration.

  Jess smiled. “I cannot say more other than how I’ve explained it…wait and continue trying and it will become clear. Once you know how it feels you will be able to replicate the action much more readily.”

  Gwaynn waited, and tried to join. The desire to merge his body grew and grew inside him until he felt he could resist it no longer. He fought with the desire, growing tired and hungry. He wanted to rush back to his body, but struggled hard to resist and then with no warning at all a screaming vortex appeared before him, nearly knocking his insubstantial projected self on its back. The wind shrieked in his ears, pulling at his clothes and hair. The power of it was amazing. In front of his solid body, however, no wind, no shrieking, just a perfectly round bubble popped into existence. Gwaynn’s physical face smiled, and he glanced momentarily at Samantha in the distance, then he could resist the urge no longer and stepped into the bubble. His two halves joined instantly, flowing together smoothly. Gwaynn sighed as he felt a rush of pleasure course through his body.

  “Beware of that,” Jess said watching the ecstasy of joining flash across his face. “Like any pleasure, it can become addictive.”

  Gwaynn wobbled as the euphoric feeling quickly dissipating to be replaced by hunger and fatigue. Jess moved quickly forward and embraced him in a tight hug, then gently helped him to the ground. She pulled a cube of sugar from a pouch at his waist and handed it to him.

  “Well done! Very well done!” she added, still grinning broadly. Gwaynn smiled weakly back at her.

  “I didn’t think it would be so hard…Nev said…” he stopped, suddenly aware of the strange look na Gall was giving him.

  They looked at each other for an instance, and then a cheer erupted from the far side of the field. Gwaynn turned to see both Laynee and Daniel running quickly their way, smiling and yelling at the top of their lungs.

  Gwaynn and na Gall waited in silence as the two young students rushed across the grass.

  “You did it! You did it!” Laynee yelled excitedly. “And on your first try…you did it!”

  Gwaynn smiled at the young girl, who plopped in the grass beside him. She reached out and touched his hand. “You did it,” she repeated one more time. “You’re a Traveler!”

  Gwaynn jerked in surprise and then looked up to Jess, who nodded. “You are,” she confirmed. “It is a very rare thing, even rarer for a male. I congratulate you,” she added, but then without warning, her face went dark and her eyes glinted with anger.

  “What did Nev do Gwaynn?” She asked hotly and leaned forward aggressively

  Gwaynn leaned away from her, confused. He had no idea what she was talking about.

  “Nev can Travel!” She exclaimed and jabbed a finger at Gwaynn’s chest. She didn’t touch him but her meaning was clear. “What did he do? Why did the High King attack the Travelers?”

  “I…I don’t know,” Gwaynn stammered.

  na Gall scoffed. “Well he did something. No Traveler would give the High King cause for his actions. He killed, he killed them all…the students…the innocents…” she added but then stopped as her emotions threatened to bubble over.

  Gwaynn just sat there, waiting; his mind going over the implications of her questions. Had Nev done something to antagonize the High King? Gwaynn didn’t know but he thought it was a possibility. That Nev held King Mastoc in low regard was no secret…plus his old master didn’t look at the world in the way a normal person would.

  “Nev can Travel can’t he?” na Gall asked again, this time almost pleading.

  Gwaynn stood up shakily, saying nothing and something in his eyes must have hardened because the Travelers anger broke apart.

  “Please Gwaynn…please. Nothing makes sense anymore,” she implored him. “Please…can Tar Nev Travel?”

  Gwaynn paused for only a split second. “Yes,” he confirmed and moved off down the hill toward camp, looking for food.

  IX

  Emm watched as the woman from the second floor slinked, cat-like across the muddy street below. The woman moved in a way that pulled every male eye within a few hundred yards in her direction. The men in the street, Massi and Deutzani alike watched her very closely. Emm, who was well acquainted with the desires of men, knew exactly what they wanted. The woman…Cyndar, would have to be careful. It didn’t help that she dressed in a manner that showed off her considerable assets. Her clothes were fashionable, and while she didn’t dress anything like a whore, she appeared not to mind showing just enough skin to lighten any male eye that landed on her. No, she was no whore. Emm could tell. Something told her that Cyndar was a virgin or nearly so, and perhaps the men could also sense this. Nothing attracted men like a beautiful virgin asking to be laid.

  Emm lost sight of the woman as she passed beneath the porch roof of the hotel. A Deutzani soldier, who’d watched Cyndar pass from across the street, looked up and spotted Emm in the third floor window. He smiled lewdly at her.

  “You too sweetheart,” he said loudly and put his hand on his crotch. Emm ducked back out of sight without replying. The soldier and his friends laughed for a moment before huddling up to discuss the vision that’d just crossed their path.

  Emm decided then and there that she needed to warn Cyndar Huntley. Up to now she’d kept her distance. Taylor, the old man who owned the hotel, didn’t trust her or her brother Robert, and for Taylor not to trust a beautiful woman, or any woman for that matter, was something of a novelty. Trust or not, Cyndar was heading for trouble. It wouldn’t be long before she was pulled into some alley or barn to satisfy the driving needs of men, and whether she came out again would be far from certain.

  Emm moved out of the room she was cleaning and walked briskly to the stairs. She raced down a flight and waited for Cyndar to climb and meet her. She needn’t have hurried. She could hear Cyndar discussing the day with Maybel, Taylor’s wife down on the first floor. Apparently Taylor believed a storm was coming and Maybel disagreed.

  “Hips not hurting and my hip always hurts before a storm,” she claimed. They spoke about other mundane subjects long enough that Emm grew bored from waiting and sat down on the top step of the second floor landing. She was still sitting there when Cyndar rounded the corner of the stairs, slowly, silently, climbing up to
her room.

  Emm gave a little start. “Oh…I didn’t hear you coming,” she said softly.

  Cyndar smiled at her, but Emm felt no warmth from it.

  “I won’t be needing any more fresh water today,” Cyndar said a bit curtly as Emm jumped to her feet. The girl fidgeted nervously in front of her as she climbed the remaining stairs to her floor.

  “If you say so miss,” Emm answered.

  The woman barely nodded as she walked by. Emm was about to lose courage and began to climb back up to the third floor when she caught a slight whiff of cherry blossoms. Somehow the smell made Cyndar more vulnerable, more human. Emm turned back as the woman was just opening her door.

  “Miss…I was wondering if I could have a word?”

  Cyndar turned and gave another false smile. “Yes?” She answered a little impatiently. de Baard was anxious to get into her room where she could relax and not have to present this false face of friendliness.

  “Could…could I speak with you in private?”

  Emm caught just a hint of a frown before Cyndar was again smiling. “Of course. Come in,” she answered holding the door open a little wider for Emm to enter. She moved past the taller woman and into Cyndar’s room. It was immaculate, bed made; clothes and shoes all put away, which surprised Emm. When the two Huntley’s arrived, Cyndar informed Maybel point blank that neither she nor her brother would need maid services. She would see to their rooms. At first Emm thought they were just frugal since maid services cost extra. Many people declined such services, and nearly all of them were filthy by nature, but obviously Cyndar was not. Taylor believed the two just didn’t want people poking around, thinking these two might be hiding something.

  Emm didn’t know about that, but it was her experience that those whose chose to look after themselves rarely did so, at least when the place wasn’t their own. The fact that Cyndar obviously did keep a clean room impressed the girl and she was now certain that she was doing the right thing.

  “I…I don’t think you know this about me,” Emm stammered, not really knowing how to begin such a delicate conversation. de Baard struggled with her impatience but kept her face carefully neutral. “But before I worked as a maid for the Koch’s…I was a whore.”

  de Baard raised an eyebrow, surprised at the girl’s candor, and curious as to just where she was heading with this. “No!” she exclaimed as if she were slightly scandalized.

  Emm shook her head. “Yes, a bad man ran the operation and forced the Koch’s to cooperate. He bought me…and made me…” Emm paused for a moment. “Well, you know.”

  “Yes,” de Baard said with another smile, this one actually genuine. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Well…I’ve seen the way you walk,” Emm began but stopped when de Baard cocked her head and a strange glint came into her eyes. “Men…all the men watch you. They look at you the way some would look at me,” she hurried on trying to get to the point as quickly as possible now. She could see Cyndar was becoming angry. “You must be careful…all the men watch you. I’m afraid they might do something to hurt you.”

  “Hurt me?” de Baard asked, smiling broadly.

  Emm just nodded. “I know what some of them are like…if they want you, there’s not much that’ll stop them from having you. With me they just paid, but with you…they could force you. They could hurt, maybe kill you.”

  de Baard was silent for a moment. This was exactly the attention she wanted. If Emm noticed, perhaps others had as well. She nodded at the girl.

  “So I’m not to leave my room? I’m not to go anywhere?” she asked with a slight hint of indignation. “There are men everywhere. How can I possibly avoid men?”

  “No, no, you don’t have to stay in your room,” Emm said trying to be helpful. “Maybe just cover yourself a bit more. Wear your hair up, and don’t walk so…so…”

  de Baard laughed. “I see your point. My brother often scolds me, and I suppose you’re both right, especially with all the Deutzani soldiers about.”

  “I’m just afraid one of them will get you,” Emm added smiling, feeling relieved that Cyndar was not mad. It also helped that her brother, Robert warned her on this subject.

  “Thank you,” de Baard answered, and she actually smiled warmly at the younger woman. “I’ll try.”

  “I can help,” Emm added. “I know a few tricks…on how to make yourself look less attractive…there were times, you know if I didn’t feel well…and didn’t want any of the men to pick me. They do work…at least some of the time, though you are so beautiful.”

  “Please,” de Baard said, feigning modesty.

  “You are!” Emm insisted. “It’s your hair…and your eyes. We’ll just have to disguise them. Sit down.”

  de Baard sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. Emm moved quickly up next to her and then walked on her knees behind her, careful to keep her shoes off the mattress. She immediately began to pull up Cyndar’s long brown hair and pile it on the top of her head.

  “It could work,” Emm added, “if you’ll let me.”

  de Baard paused for a moment. “Very well,” she said with just a touch of reluctance.

  “Great!” Emm answered and leaped from the bed. “I’ll go and get my stuff.”

  “Emm,” de Baard asked just as the girl reached the door. “Where’s the bad man now? How did you get away from him?”

  Emm stopped, turned around and smiled radiantly. “You’ll not believe me,” she said.

  “I will.”

  “Well…it was Prince Gwaynn and Krys Logan, his Weapons Master. They stayed at this very place…on the third floor I believe. They killed Fakir and his men.”

  “Prince Gwaynn,” Cyndar said softly, eyes widening, “you’ve met Prince Gwaynn.”

  Emm nodded, somehow feeling important just to have met the Prince.

  “Tell me,” Cyndar asked leaning forward, suddenly very interested in everything the girl had to say. “What was he like?”

  Emm moved closer and sat back on the bed next to her new friend. She had to think a moment, going back over her memories, carefully deciding exactly what she was going to say. Truthfully she hadn’t thought of Gwaynn much since he’d gone. He was surly and frightening…almost as bad as Fakir. Most of her thoughts were for Krys…who though still deadly, still a killer, was much kinder to her.

  “He was tall…” Emm started but stopped as she saw a frown crease Cyndar’s face. “Hard,” she amended. “Fakir and his men were evil. No one in town would take them on. None of the girls had the courage to even run away. Fakir would catch you and kill you in the most horrible ways. I was always afraid when I was near him.”

  de Baard sat perfectly still, waiting. She was patient. She would learn. This girl may be the key. If she’d met the Prince, if he’d rescued her…

  “Gwaynn killed him easily…and the others, though Krys killed also,” Emm continued on, now lost in her memories. “Prince Gwaynn even had Dot killed. They found her in Maxville. Gwaynn was the one who cut the fingers from Taylor’s hand. He was hard and a little scary…like Fakir.”

  “Scary,” de Baard repeated unaware that she was smiling.

  ǂ

  General Pachout was leading a large column of cavalrymen southeast along the coast road. He was currently a little bit northwest of the main body of the army and maybe a half a day behind them. The battle of Sotto ended in defeat but not in complete disaster. Pachout managed to extricate most of the army away from the Palmerrio and retreat east before the bulk of the High King’s Temple Knights could engage them. He thanked fortune that the Traveler na Gall arrived in Eno just when she was most needed, allowing him to move from one end of the vast country to the other in a blink.

  The day was overcast and windy. The northwest wind held the promise of rain, but as yet none was falling. As they rode, Pachout occasionally caught sight of the endless waves rolling on the Inland Sea. They pounded the rocky beaches just to the north with a sound like thunder. The sea was dark gray
and very angry. That was good; heavy seas would keep the High King from using ships to move his Knights between Pachout’s army and the capital of Eno.

  Pachout was using his cavalry in a rear guard action. They were attempting to delay the Temple Knights long enough for his foot soldiers to cross the Mac River flats and into the wooded bluffs beyond. The General knew his army had to reach the protected high ground if they were to have any chance at all. The dense woodland would offer a good deal of protection against the mounted Knights and effectively nullify much of the advantage they had over the common soldier on the ground. The problem was reaching the Mac River in time. The river was still two days march away, less if they didn’t stop for the night. The Knights were pushing them…always pushing.

  As he rode, Pachout watched for a likely spot to ambush the forward units of the pursuing army. His cavalry had done well, and Pachout was proud of them. He would put any of them up against an equal number of Knights confidently. The only true problem was that the numbers were far from equal. The Toranado cavalry numbered just over four thousand at the beginning of the campaign whereas the Knight’s numbered closer to ten thousand. And Pachout’s best guess was that his number of cavalry had dwindled closer to three thousand. He could not speculate as to the amount of damage the Knights had taken, but it was far less. Captain Hothgaard was no fool and he was keeping his men in tight, for maximum safety and force. His forward units were strong and well trained. Pachout knew he’d little hope of serving up more than an annoying sting, but he was not trying to earn a victory on the northern plains…just time.

  The General spotted a gradual rise ahead where the distant horizon was hidden and perked up. ‘This may be the place,’ he thought and spurred his mount into a trot. Captain Pless spurred his own horse forward to keep pace.

  “How far are they behind us?” Pachout asked, though he’d asked the very same question at least three times in the last hour and a half.