Engaging Evil (Warriors of Vhast Book 2)

by Cary J Lenehan

  ~~~

  Thord

  As Thord walked and kept an eye around him his thoughts were simple and direct. This is an adventure from the legends. He knew that he was happy.

  ~~~

  Bianca

  As Bianca headed off to the horses her mind drifted back to what was happening. I can feel my mind losing focus and going back to the bandits. She kept her sling at hand, but didn’t expect to use it. Her eyes kept looking about, but what she was seeing was not really registering. A few short months ago I was an orphan trying to start a career as a trader’s apprentice. Now, what am I? Where I used to be a loner, I now have a group of people around me whom I care about at least a bit. Despite what I said yesterday, if I lost them, I would miss them. Hulagu I would miss a lot. Lord forgive me but I am sure that the Sisters would not approve of many of the things I am seeing each day, and what I am accepting, from these people. I have killed in battle…that is fine. However I have also deliberately inflicted pain on people under my control…admittedly it was only on people who deserved it, but that still probably doesn’t excuse me. What will I do next? Instead of the mild animal handler I once was, there is a be-weaponed what?…The only way I have been close to a man’s sex in my whole life was to hold it and then use a knife near it. I am still a virgin and even my apostate girl friend has a man…well, a part-man…but he seems to love her deeply and she certainly loves him. I really do need to talk to a priest and the Father is right. I need to confess. My soul must be in terrible shape by now. If I die unshriven at this moment…she shuddered…I would be lost and in hell for eternity. I have no choice about it. I must accept Father Christopher as my confessor now and, if I ever get home, square it with the nuns…somehow. I wonder if this was the sort of thing that the nuns used to do when they were out in the world…some of them were once warriors…St Ursula had a militant Order working for her. They never made their stories sound like this though. The blood and the pain and the hard choices were missing from their tales. It was all adventure and fun and travel. Even rain and mud were only mentioned if it made the story better. Had they really forgotten or had they actually been shielding the orphan on their knees from what life was in truth like?

  Bianca moved up the slope. The wind is behind me. I will now see how alert the horses are as the wind carries my scent up to the camping area. Sure enough as they came near to the crest her three horses, Sluggard between the two battle steeds, appeared as a welcoming committee on the top of the rise. She called them and they came down to her. After patting them and talking a bit she checked them over. They have not suffered from the time I was away and they show no marks of having driven off any predators.

  “Now,” she said to them, “let’s go and collect the others, shall we?” As they moved down the rear to the picket line the two walkers had three large followers.

  Thord went straight to Hillstrider, who put up more show of having been maltreated by being left alone than the horses had, but then he had been tied up.

  Bianca started checking the growing herd of horses, not that they needed it. While she did that Thord prepared and saddled Hillstrider. He looked at her and she got him to collect all of the gear that had been left behind and start placing them beside horses. Bianca saddled the horses, put the armour on Esther, and loaded the pack animals…after having moved some gear that Thord had incorrectly placed beside the wrong animals. With only two people working, and a growing herd of over six hands of horses, it took a while to get everything ready, but at last they set off back to the village. Thord only had one animal and could fight from it so she got him to take the lead on his sheep. Bianca followed behind on Firestar with most of the horses trailing lead ropes, each attached to the saddle in front, and her other two horses walking where they would.

  Thord went ahead on his own until he could see Astrid step into view on her platform. She signalled them on, but seemed to be indicating that they needed to hurry. They rode down to the main track, then over the bridge and up the ravine. Bianca had to tie the rope to the rest of the horses to Sluggard, allowing him to lead them on his own as her other two refused to move to the back and, in trying to crowd the path, almost pushed another horse into the water.

  When they had reached the track down from the lookout they discovered that Astrid had come down to talk to them. “I think that we will most likely have visitors…probably in about three hours…find out what Rani wants to do to greet them please,” she said. “I’ll stay here in case anything changes. If you don’t come back I will take them with my bow as they pass me. It’ll be good hunting.” She grinned. “Don’t forget how to open the gate…don’t force it.”

  “Get back up in your little nest where you ha’ been avoiding honest work and hard exercise. We’ll be back soon,” said Thord.

  They moved quickly up the path to the gate. Thord dismounted and touched the gate. Nothing seemed to happen, so he reached out again and shook it gently a bit. This time it gave a chirp back and he could push it open as it swung free. Thord stood aside to allow Bianca and the horses to go ahead while he closed the gate. Ahead near the village they could see activity and, by listening hard, could hear muffled screams from behind the wall.

  “It sounds like Dharmal is still alive, then,” said Bianca to the dwarf.

  Chapter IX

  Rani

  Once Astrid, Thord and Bianca had left the village, Rani wondered what she should do next. I am a battle mage and a warrior, not a village headman, but people are looking to me. My branches of the Kshatya caste are warriors, not rulers. I have no idea what I am doing, no training. What should I have done first? I have a village of people to take care of, a search to be made for magic and anything useful, bodies to dispose of, and a possible threat from these self-styled Masters. She was standing there…wondering…when Father Christopher came over to her. From his words, he seems to see my confusion.

  “You worry about this Ahmed and his carpet,” he said quietly, “and how to defend the village, and I will take care of the rest that needs doing. I will be sending people to do things, if you need one of them, please check with me first…I will make sure that someone is on watch at the wall—don’t worry.” He smiled. “I don’t want to be killed by a surprise attack either.”

  Rani felt a wave of relief wash though her, and sighed. “Thank you.”

  She watched Father Christopher take charge of the mundane…the mundane that I have no idea how to organise. Some of the villagers are moving away from Dharmal, who by now, despite his desperate struggles, has been moved from the ground to a whipping frame that is permanently set up beside the guard house. He struggled so hard that they thought he might escape…so he was hamstrung. Blood is still running down his legs. They had then drawn lots as to who had the right to do what to him, and when, and some of the women have now left him alone until their turn comes. Others still just sit and watch. It is surprising to see how quickly Father Christopher has been able to organise people to get breakfast for them all and find a work party to strip the corpses and dispose of the bodies.

  Is it just him, or do people expect a priest to tell them what to do?

  ~~~

  Ayesha

  Several people are leaving the strung up dwarf to the ministrations of others among them. One of those who left Dharmal is Verily. That is curious. She noticed the Christian priest moving towards the girl and went over to head him off. “I didn’t think you would have had enough so quickly,” she said.

  “I haven’t, but I was lucky,” Verily said. There is a tight look on her face that may have been meant to be a smile, but which fails completely to convey any sense of humour. “I get to remove his balls and that will be right near his end, so I have some free time now. I thought I would see what is around that I can find. I have nothing really.”

  “Good, then you can help me do just that. I will make sure that you get some knives. Bianca will not need any more.” Grabbing Verily’s hand she went over to Rani and Theodora. “This is V
erily. Verily, this is Shri Rani and, probably Princess Theodora.” She went silent as she allowed what she had said to sink in. It is taking a while. Eventually Theodora looked aghast. “They are both nobles and they do not like men either…well at least they prefer each other,” she explained to Verily. To the mages she said: “You will never believe what this girl can do. She has been kept here for ten years and they have never realised that she can smell magic and what type it is.”

  “Smell…” said Rani.

  “Magic?” asked Theodora.

  The look on your faces is worth it. “My most noble and illustrious ladies, you have only been together for a week and you already complete sentences for each other. My blessed parents took years to do that, I am told.” She saw the two mages look at each other and then Theodora blushed and stared downwards…with the coy smile of a very young bride. Ayesha explained what Verily had told her the night before.

  The eyes on both mages opened wide.

  “We will start with these here,” said Ayesha, pointing at the bodies laid out in the courtyard, “and then begin to work through the buildings. I will see if Father Christopher will spare me someone to carry things.” Father Christopher has his work cut out for him. At least the women seem glad to obey a priest. I can understand that, and it is possible that they will not actually listen much to anyone else among the men. The other males would remind them too much of their former owners.

  As she was waiting to get a man to help she heard the men introduce themselves—she had a Robin Fletcher with her while the others were Norbert Black, Giles Ploughman and Harald Pitt…a polite introduction from them all. As they went to work on the collection of items she heard the priest declare that they had to get a grave dug first.

  As they left she heard a chuckle. “It’ll be t’first hole I’ve dug since I got here t’at I enjoyed diggin’,” said Harald in an accent that was as thickly Dwarven as Thord’s.

  Ayesha explained what they wanted to Robin and they began to gather things from the bodies and place them on the veranda. With Dharmal and his cries as a disturbing background, the pile is beginning to grow. They added mail, daggers, Thorkil’s axe, swords, bows, arrows, and many other items as they began to go through the rooms—necklaces that smelt of fire to Verily, a lead amulet, a fire opal broach, a magnesium amulet, all of these from the mage’s rooms, and so it went on. They even gathered a carpet up from the floor.

  With what they were doing she and the priest crossed paths all of the time. I approve of what he wants done. It seems his training has led to a better appreciation of domesticity and its requirements than I have. He has started some of the women on cooking. A Havenite woman called Lãdi, one of the oldest here but still more than handsome, is the chief cook of the village. Despite protests she was soon dragging some of the younger ones away from Dharmal and setting them to work in the kitchen, making them wash thoroughly first…good.

  Ayesha and the priest arrived crossed paths again before a Caliphate woman called Sajãh who, it seemed, was the chief domestic. Even while the priest is speaking to her, she looks at me as if seeking permission. Someone must have told her something. The priest got Sajãh to start getting the mess tidied up in the mage’s house. Again she looks to me for confirmation. It all makes sense. She inclined her head in a gesture that could be seen as confirmation if she was waiting on orders. Even if we move out on our next leg tomorrow we will still need a place to sleep tonight and that is the most comfortable place here.

  ~~~

  Work is proceeding well, and by the sun’s position it is Dhurhr and time to pray. Taking her leave from Verily and Robin she took a place in the square. I am a ghazi, a Holy warrior, after all, and no man is present, so it is up to me.

  She gave the call to prayer and, startled, several former slaves appeared before her. “We have not been allowed to pray,” said Sajãh. “We have almost forgotten how and Allah has forsaken us.”

  “He has not forsaken you,” Ayesha replied crossly. “He sent me, a woman ghazi from Misr al-Mãr, here to free you. How much more a sign of His Love and Mercy can you ask for? You are no longer abd sacãlĩk, slaves of the bandits, you are free and I have helped do it—a woman from the Caliphate. It may be that no man will take you as a wife now, but it may be that they will; Inshallah. Anyway, you have your own Wadi al Qalca, Valley of the Castle, to keep you safe. You should give thanks for your freedom to Allah, the Merciful. It is time for prayer and I am going to do so. If you wish to join me, you may.”

  Ayesha washed at the fountain and went to a vacant part of the courtyard and began to pray. My rug is still with my horse, but Allah will understand. When she had finished she looked behind her and there were five women, including Sajãh, and two children eight or nine years old. Those two should be home playing with dolls or learning to make carpets, not sitting here with haunted eyes being coached through prayer by the older women—older…she snorted. Sajãh is the oldest, thirty at the most, three others are as young as I am and I am just setting out in life. They are all now looking to me. It is my duty to take the lead in matter of faith.

  After prayer she went and started to learn about them before kissing them and going back to her tasks and sending the women and girls to theirs.

  ~~~

  Hulagu

  Hulagu was embarrassed. Every time he turned around he had two shadows. Who are these girls? Their eyes and faces and voices tell me they are Khitan, although their clothes say no. He faced them. They introduced themselves as Anahita of the Axe-beaks and Kãhina of the Pack-hunters. Even when he explained that he was a Dire Wolf and so could not take either of them as a wife, they did not leave him alone. “We were on wanderjahr when we were taken,” said Kãhina, “now no-one of our septs knows where we are. It is long enough ago that our clans will have mourned us and moved on. We have no clans now unless we find a way to go back. We are impure, we need cleansing, and there is no shaman here to help us.”

  “I know your clan fondly,” said Hulagu. “We were helped on our way by Malik, Tzachaz and Uzun of that clan and I know the rituals you need. My family are also shamen in our clan.”

  “Malik!” exclaimed Kãhina, “he is my cousin. He will thank you for my release from being a thrall, a köle, to these animals, but it is not just the rituals. You have taken us from the brigands as köle so now we are your köle. You need not marry us, indeed we know that you cannot, but we are yours now and you are responsible for us. If you want either of us as your leman, then that is fine of course, but otherwise we will still look after you. You wouldn’t want one of these city men to have that task, would you?” She paused, thinking about what to say next. “You are lucky to find us. Girls of the tents do not last long here. We fill with hate for these men and women, and fight back and try to escape. Sometimes we kill one of them before we die. This is my second year here. I was going to die soon,” she said in a matter of fact tone. “I had started to think about which one to kill so that I might die and return to the spirits. Anahita had around half a year after me before she would have made her try to escape and died…one way or the other. They do not take many from the tribes, unless we are beautiful, as we do not last long and we are not worth the trouble.” She swayed towards Hulagu. “I am told that I am very beautiful…but I was the first here for several years.”

  Hulagu studied her. She is correct about her beauty, and she has obviously been learning things from the other women. I am shocked at her behaviour, but then…Kãhina is also right about the more important matter. She is not of my clan, and has not freed herself so; by killing those who had taken her prisoner and made her a slave, I am now responsible for her and she is now my köle unless I find her a husband who will take her…we all freed them, but I am the only one of the People of the Tents here, so I am the only one who counts. If I do not take responsibility for them, then they can never return to the tribes and may still kill themselves. How would I explain that to Malik when next we meet? How will I explain the alternative to th
e others? How will I explain Bianca to the girls? That should, at least, be the easiest…easier at least than the other way around. I do not want to lose Bianca’s respect on this, but I know now that these two will be coming with us when we leave.

  “I will not be marrying you. My destiny…I have a dire prophecy upon me.” They look impressed as they look at each other. I guess if you had to be a köle, then at least it should be as a köle to someone who the spirits have plans for. They stand a little straighter already. I wonder if such a fate for their master gave them prestige as well. “As a part of it, my fate lies not with a woman of The People. That is, if I get to marry. The rest…we will see how it plays out.” He thought for a bit. “If it must be, it must be. We can organise the fires later; in the meantime, see if you can find me a room from Father Christopher,” he pointed at the priest. “You can stay in your own rooms or with me, as you wish…and get yourselves some weapons. No köle of mine will go unarmed so that they cannot protect themselves or me and mine…and get some real clothes. You cannot fight or ride in those dresses of the walled towns. You are not tavern girls now. Horses will come later.”