Bones of the Empire
Page 9
“I…wait, what?” asked Rishad, the smile vanishing as he started to get up off the floor. “Do not dare to…”
With a speed that belied the woman’s age, the priestess came over and backhanded Rishad, knocking him onto his side on the smooth floor. “I told you to kneel. Travelers are to be welcomed, and these do not feel you are being welcoming enough.”
Clenching his jaw, Rishad rolled over and slowly got onto his knees. Locking eyes with Estin, he bowed.
“The high priest is not excused from the rules of the faithful,” Arella explained, getting a furious glance from Rishad that she either did not see or chose to ignore. “This reeducation has been part of our agreement after you left. That aside, it is time that you were allowed your freedom. Ropes and chains are hardly something Kerrelin endorses. Kerrelin’s teachings clearly say ‘the wild that is bound or trapped will one day bite the hunter.’ Free the wildlings.”
Almost immediately, the archers behind Estin ran over and untied the rope from his hands. He thought briefly about attacking them, but with his left shoulder throbbing and Feanne on her back, he dismissed that idea quickly. Instead, he moved closer to Feanne and helped her sit up, as she watched Rishad suspiciously. To his surprise, Feanne put her head on his shoulder, seemingly unable to keep herself upright without his help. As soon as he put his arm around her, he felt Feanne’s muscles tense as she prepared to fight. A ruse.
“Now, how may we help you both?” asked Arella, smiling warmly. “Jnodin is open to the two of you without reservation. It is the least we can do after the poor greeting last time.”
Estin could not take his eyes off Rishad’s tattoos. Reformed or not, the man was a part of the enemy forces and a pawn their leader, Dorralt, could control at will. “You can start by killing that thing. He’ll turn on us the moment his master commands it.”
His jaw muscles trembling with anger, Rishad clenched his hands and visibly tried to calm himself.
Arella shook her head without looking in Rishad’s direction. “Rishad is instrumental in holding Jnodin against his former family, Estin. I will neither banish him, nor kill him, unless he disregards our treaty or loses his fight with his old master. I have my doubts that he would consider doing that.”
“He’s one of them. Doubt all you want, but he’s not our ally.”
Nodding, Arella opened her mouth to reply but hesitated when Feanne flinched when she moved. Feanne tried to hide the hint of weakness quickly, but Arella’s eyes lingered on her stomach wound.
“Rishad,” Arella said, without looking away from Feanne. “Heal our guests.”
“No!” snapped Feanne, sliding away from Rishad and hiding behind Estin as she panted weakly. “I will not allow him to touch me.”
Losing control of his temper, Rishad finally burst out, “Might I remind you, you filthy fleabag, that I saved your life once already? If I wanted to kill you two miserable—”
“Rishad, that is enough,” Arella warned, her tone brooking no argument.
“—fine people,” Rishad corrected, his tone calming instantly, “I could do so. I chose this agreement and I will adhere to it. The terms the priests and priestesses have set for allowing me to continue to worship with them require me to protect your carcasses. A few hundred years of killing your people will not be forgotten overnight, I am afraid. My faith will allow me to work toward that with time.”
Estin met Rishad’s eyes. “And when Dorralt makes you kill us?”
Shaking his head, Rishad pulled a necklace from under his robe. “A gift from Arella. Dorralt cannot force his mind into mine unless he comes here in person, which he likely thinks is beneath him. For now, my decisions are entirely my own for the first time in hundreds of years.”
“Why should I believe anything you’re saying?”
Arella patted Rishad’s hand tenderly, instantly softening his expression. “He knows what our people are now. His faith opened the door, but his fear of what we can do to him will keep him loyal. The silly man revealed a few of his secrets to me. We will not use it against him, so long as he remains obedient.”
Estin looked over at Feanne, and she met his eyes. They had been fighting together for so long they could easily read one another’s subtle expressions, and in that look, he saw reluctant acceptance. She saw no way around it, and he did not either. For the moment, they would go along with whatever was offered.
“I don’t trust him, and I might never change my opinion,” Estin said at last, returning his attention to Arella, who seemed to be in charge. “Your order helped us escape the last time. I will trust you, Arella.”
“Then you will allow Rishad to treat your wounds,” Arella replied calmly. “That is the first step toward our order helping your people this time around. Agreed?”
Estin wanted to tell the woman to do something unspeakable, but when he opened his mouth to answer, Feanne quickly cut in. “We will allow it, priestess. We accept the healing and nothing else at this time.”
Smiling in a way Estin could only call predatory, Arella answered, “I see your mate has figured out her place in such matters. Mine still attempts to speak up too often. A wise choice, Feanne, and I look forward to speaking directly with you in the future instead of through Estin.”
Estin and Feanne gave each other quizzical glances, but he chose not to say anything. That was a question for another time.
Getting up from the stone floor, Rishad came over to stand in front of Estin and Feanne. Patting Estin’s arm, Feanne stood and squared her shoulders, staring at Rishad as though daring him to try anything. Rishad smirked but bowed his head and raised one palm toward her stomach wound. With the wound covered, Estin could not see any immediate change, but Feanne’s tension eased almost instantly, letting him know the healing was well underway.
“Now yours, Estin,” Rishad said after a moment’s concentration.
Standing beside Feanne, Estin had to struggle to keep from flinching when Rishad put his hand on Estin’s shoulder near the crossbow wound. His mind raced with thoughts of Atall being torn apart by another Turessian, and he wanted to run, to keep this man from touching him. Thankfully, a second later the pain in his shoulder faded, and Rishad pulled his hand away. Weariness replaced the pain.
“Guards,” said Arella, once the healing was finished, shifting close to Feanne to study the remains of her wounds. “Arm them. They are not prisoners or foes. I would have them be comfortable.”
One of the hunters ran over to Estin and offered him a nicked old short sword, which Estin took from him gladly. Checking on Feanne, he saw her snarl at a man offering her a sword. She certainly did not need the weapon, but they did not need to know that. Instead, she took it and passed it immediately to Estin.
“You have my sincere apology for how you were brought in,” Rishad offered, as Estin brought his newly claimed weapon around to bear on him and held the second at the ready. “I doubted you would come willingly.”
Placing the tip of the weapon at the base of Rishad’s throat, Estin asked, “How did you find us?”
Rishad grabbed the weapon’s blade, tightening his grip until the weapon creaked dangerously. Not a drop of blood ran down the steel. “Careful, wildling. I had a great many years of hunting your kind before finding religion. Liris and I once hunted together. There are limits to my patience. Kerrelin does not forbid us from destroying those who try to kill us.”
Moving from Feanne’s side, Arella slapped Rishad on the back of the head hard enough that he nearly impaled himself on Estin’s weapon. “He found you because he listened to my advice for a second time,” she explained. “First, he drove out the invaders and surrendered to my forces. Later, he agreed to listen to the harbinger of the north when he fulfilled the terms of the prophecies sent to this city thousands of years ago.”
“Harbinger?” Estin asked. He lowered his weapon slightly when Rishad released it. Estin tried not to stare at the dents in the metal where the man’s fingers had been. “What prophecy? On’
esquin didn’t say anything about a harbinger or specific prophecies about Jnodin.”
“We tend not to believe in prophecy, regardless of the source,” Arella answered, grinning as she did so. “We certainly don’t believe in prophecy as an instrument of fate. However, even we cannot ignore a prophecy as clear as ‘when the alpha wolf takes the enemy of life as part of her pack, the man of black-and-white will return to guide them.’ It is a little more than we could ignore, and we had to track you down, given your involvement.”
“More of that black-and-white nonsense,” Estin sighed as Feanne tested her arm’s mobility. “Not sure who the alpha wolf is. Why do people keep lumping me into their prophecies?”
Arella laughed openly, covering her mouth as she did. Lowering her hand, she asked, “You thought it was you? Oh, you dear child, no. He is walking up behind you now.”
Turning, Estin saw Turess coming into the temple, straightening his black overcoat and white robe as he walked. He smiled nervously at Estin, giving cautious side glances at the priests and hunters around the temple as he moved to stand near Feanne, who eyed him dangerously. Once he reached them, he tucked his hands into his sleeves as he crossed his arms.
“If you’re going to help us, get us supplies and we’ll leave here before dawn,” Estin said, trying not to look at Turess. He was still too much of a mystery, and Estin wanted to be gone from Jnodin. No more surprises, no more war. If Turess was with these crazies, they could have each other. “We won’t stand in the way of whatever you’re doing.”
Rishad snorted and bowed his head to Turess. “Don’t be daft, wildling. Turess is alive. That changes everything. I swore an oath to Dorralt when he changed me into this…this creature. The first words were ‘I pledge my eternity to the true lord of Turessi.’ When we found Turess, I took a knee and repeated my oath to Turess. He has asked for the two of you by name, and I could not refuse him, no matter how much I wish to smash your smug face in. I am a weapon at his disposal, and I have provided everything I have control over to him.”
“More than that,” Arella said. “Turess forced him to give up his knowledge of how to kill Turessians, though only to me as a concession.”
Estin felt his heart accelerate. “How? How do we kill them?”
Shaking his head and smirking, Rishad replied, “Why would I tell you? Do you think I want you using it against me out of some twisted sense of revenge? Arella knows, and when she is ready, she will tell you. That has to be enough.”
“Will you march against your old master?” Feanne asked Rishad. “On’esquin marched hundreds of miles to find his army, and this is the only city in the region that might be able to provide one.”
“My sister killed that army,” Rishad replied, smiling until Arella punched his arm, making him scowl and move out of reach. “No, we will not march on Turessi. Neither the regular believers of Jnodin, nor the priesthood will leave these walls until they find a true leader. The priesthood believes that the wild god Kerrelin will take physical form and lead them against Turessi. It’s an old story, but one they’re using as reason to stay here and wait.”
Arella nodded. “Kerrelin’s oral tradition speaks of destruction for us if we go north before it is time. We will follow his avatar into the wastelands and crush the enemies of the wild when the time is right. Going before then will gain us nothing.”
“Who or what is this avatar of the god?” asked Feanne.
Rishad rolled his eyes, which did not escape Arella’s notice. She glared at him as she answered Feanne. “We do not know. Kerrelin’s legends are more of guides to watch the wilderness for signs and portents that seem valid. Aside from what I have already told you, we have no specifics.”
Estin could not resist asking, “You’re waiting for a sign you couldn’t identify if it came up and hit you upside the head?”
Grinning, Rishad nodded and made a point of staying out of Arella’s reach.
“His faith is not as strong as he wishes to think it is,” Arella said, her eyes narrowing as she watched Rishad. “He’s a good man who struggles with evil within himself that wishes to kill. It is something all of us in the priesthood cope with every day and can be overlooked, but his struggle is not the same as ours.”
Before Estin could ask anything further, Feanne put a hand on his arm, bringing his thoughts to a crashing halt. “We have not rested in days, priestess. Can we sleep somewhere? Safely?”
“Of course,” Arella said, bowing deeply. “That is a reasonable request. The temple’s servants will show you to an inn. You may make your choice of where you will go once you have recovered fully.”
From the side of the group of people, Turess said something that Estin did not understand.
“You will also be given a map, which will help your planning,” Rishad added, bowing to Turess in acknowledgement. “I think my lord is getting a better idea of what I’m saying in this language. I may need to watch what I say.”
Touching his chest, Turess bowed to Rishad, then motioned for Estin and Feanne to follow him. He went toward the entry steps of the temple, where a man and woman in red silky clothing waited. The two stood out against the brown-robed priests and the fur-clad hunters. They waited until Estin and Feanne reached them before they made their way down the steps. Taking Feanne’s hand in his, Estin started after them.
“Estin, before you go,” Rishad called out, bringing him to a stop. Estin tightened his grip on Feanne’s hand, waiting for everything to abruptly turn deadly. “Come back here for a moment.”
Squeezing Feanne’s hand briefly, Estin pulled away from her and went back toward Rishad and Arella, keeping one hand on the sword he had tucked into the right side of his belt. He walked up to the odd pair, half-expecting Rishad to kill Arella and then attack him. Instead, the man laid his hand on Estin’s shoulder in a manner of polite greeting, rather than attack.
“I apologize for my rudeness,” he said, though his jaw remained clenched as he spoke. “My people have hunted yours far too long without good reason. By my oaths to the wild god, I will not harm you, unless it becomes a matter of survival for one or both of us. That is the way of Kerrelin’s believers, and I will adhere to it, no matter how difficult it may be for me. Know that my hostility is not how I was raised to be, and every harsh thing I say to you shames my ancestors and my faith.”
Estin opened his mouth to reply, but could not find anything to say. Instead, he looked over at Arella, whose bemused expression gave him very little. Something about the way she watched both Rishad and Estin gave him the sensation of being stalked, which was something he rarely saw in a human. Shivering slightly at memories of the wolves at Feanne’s old pack and how they had looked at him, he mumbled his thanks to Rishad and went with Feanne and Turess.
Almost immediately upon leaving the temple, six of the hunters fell in around Estin and the others, closing in both the two wildlings and the elegantly dressed humans leading the way. Feanne shied away from the nearest of the armed men, taking on a nervous and almost shy demeanor. She pulled Estin’s arm around her, surprising him at her willingness to cling in public when enemies were about. As soon as she was close, she made a show of hugging him and whispered, “Ten seconds and we are out of his sight. Turn toward the city’s gate and test his willingness to let us travel freely. If they attack, the three closest to me will die first…they think I am weak.”
Estin hugged Feanne back and gave her a curt nod when the city’s gate came into sight a little north of the street they were on. Between them and the wall, hundreds of humans went about their lives as though the war had not yet touched the place. Aside from a few buildings that appeared to have been burned down after he and Feanne had been there last, the battle for control of the city had been hidden from sight. He had expected vast destruction and undead everywhere, not a smoothly running city.
“Now,” he whispered, turning himself and Feanne as they walked, curving toward the gate. The man and woman guiding them—as well as Turess—continu
ed on for a few more steps, but he and Feanne did not make it more than three feet off the intended route before two hunters rushed in front of them, cutting off their path and putting hands to knives and swords.
“Free to come and go?” Feanne said, her tone low, her whiskers twitching angrily. None of the hunters budged. “I think we understand. Keep your weapons sheathed.”
The hunters remained silent and met Feanne’s glares calmly, almost daring her to try anything with them. Estin could feel her tension and desire to attack, but she kept one hand to her side. She was not strong enough to fight yet, let alone through part of a city, especially with the lingering exhaustion from being healed, which he felt acutely himself. After several seconds, she relaxed and lowered her eyes, surrendering to the hunters. There would be another time for battle.
Putting his arm around Feanne to ensure she did not change her mind and to help keep them both standing—his body begged him to collapse in the middle of the street, and he had to assume she was no better off—Estin followed the group as they made their way to a small inn near the gates. The hunters stopped at the door, and the man and woman leading the way proceeded inside, beckoning the three of them in.
“Are they going to stand over us while we sleep or tuck us into bed?” Estin asked the two humans, narrowing his eyes threateningly when one of the hunters looked his way.
“No,” the elegant woman said, laughing lightly. She motioned dismissively at the hunters, and they walked away. “There is a certain arrangement we came to when the city stood against Rishad’s kin. He has no say over the people, and Arella never had any say over houses of ill repute. We are our own little kingdom within the city walls. By letting you stay with us, they are giving you as much freedom as they can without letting you leave. The hunters understand not to cross us, lest we make their lives miserable during their visits.”
“House of…?” Feanne began, looking at Estin with a touch of horror, her tail freezing midwag. “I’m unfamiliar with the term.”