Sevenfold Sword: Sorceress

by Jonathan Moeller

  “Yes,” said Cathala, giving Selene a curious look. Likely she was trying to figure out just who and what Selene was. “The memory-twisting powers of the Sword of Shadows are one of the reasons you insisted Rhodruthain split you into seven shards. The Masked One has been orchestrating the War of the Seven Swords from behind the scenes, and with the Sword of Shadows, he can hide in plain sight, and no one will ever suspect him.”

  “So we’ve noticed,” said Ridmark.

  She gave him a patronizing smile. “Such things are beyond the understanding of a simple knight, but not the wisdom of a Sister of the Order of the Arcanii.”

  “No doubt,” said Ridmark.

  “Tell me what I have missed these last fourteen years,” said Cathala, “and I shall tell you everything you want to know.”

  ###

  Ridmark listened in silence as Tamlin and Calliande told Cathala what had happened over the last decade and a half.

  Well, he listened with half an ear, anyway. He knew it already, and much of his attention went to keeping an eye out for threats.

  One of which, he had to admit, might have been Cathala of the Arcanii.

  She was a strikingly beautiful woman, almost to the point of distraction. With her clear skin, brilliant green eyes, flame-colored hair, and trim figure, she would have had no difficulty commanding the attention of men. And there was intellect, eloquence, and force of will to match the beauty. The combined effect gave her an almost superhuman charisma.

  Yet Ridmark was wary.

  He remembered a conversation several months ago in Aenesium, the day he had met Tamlin’s seneschal and master-at-arms Michael. The old man had escaped from Urd Maelwyn with Tamlin and Sir Aegeus, but before he had been an enslaved gladiator, he had been a hoplite in the armies of Aenesium. He had known Cathala in passing, and he had described her as an arrogant bitch. Michael had the rough tongue of a former soldier, but he also had an easy courtesy. Ridmark had never heard him speak ill of any other woman, whether noble or commoner, not even the tavern keeper’s wife who had overcharged Tamlin’s household for wine and then had threatened a lawsuit when Michael complained about it.

  Cathala had been the only woman Michael had ever so insulted…and he had believed Cathala dead. And Michael had also never spoken ill of the dead, even the Necromancer of Trojas himself.

  After listening to Cathala talk, Ridmark was beginning to see how Michael had come to that conclusion.

  During that conversation, Michael had also said that great beauty could mask a black heart, and Ridmark wondered if that was true about Cathala.

  Ridmark glanced at Tamlin as Calliande gave a quick summary of the battle at Cathair Caedyn. The young knight kept his face calm, but Ridmark knew him well enough to see how upset he was. Youth and the subsequent torment of his years as a slave must have colored his memories of Cathala in the best possible light. Ridmark understood. His own mother had died of illness when he had been a small child, and he had been devastated. If after fourteen years, Ridmark had seen Tomia Arban return to life only for her to belittle and dismiss him…

  “Then Justin Cyros truly kept his throne for twenty-five years?” said Cathala.

  “He did,” said Tamlin.

  “Well, perhaps I shouldn’t be surprised,” said Cathala. “He was always a strong man.” She smiled. “Certainly, I would not have allowed myself to be seduced by a weak one. Though I am surprised that he didn’t overcome Hektor Pendragon. The stodgy fool had no imagination.”

  Kalussa bristled, the crystal at the end of the Staff of Blades shifting. “My father is a great and wise king. He has kept Owyllain from slavery and tyranny and received little thanks for it.”

  “Hektor Pendragon is a caretaker,” said Cathala with a dismissive wave of her hand. “His brother Kothlaric is the true High King of Owyllain, and Hektor knows it. And once we destroy the Seven Swords and free Kothlaric, he will take his place as High King again, and Talitha and I will guide the High King as he leads Owyllain to a golden age.”

  Kalussa scowled. She was making no effort to hide her dislike of Cathala, probably because of her friendship with Tamlin. Both Third and Selene stared at Cathala in silence, and something in their stance reminded Ridmark of wolves watching a squirrel.

  “But it is more remarkable to hear that Justin Cyros and the Necromancer were both slain in the space of a month,” said Cathala. “And the Sword of Air recovered. Rhodruthain was wise to bring you both here.”

  “Rhodruthain would have been wiser not to have put my children in danger,” said Calliande.

  Cathala made a dismissive gesture. “Perhaps that was thoughtless of him, but it is unimportant in the face of greater matters.” Ridmark felt a pulse of anger, but he kept it from his face. “Though I doubt Rhodruthain is thinking entirely rationally. The Masked One and the Maledictus of Shadows know that he is the only thing standing between them and Cathair Animus, so they have subjected him to a continual mental assault, trying to twist his mind and fill his thoughts with delusions. But he has not lost all his wisdom, not if he brought you here. The proof of it is the fall of Justin and Taerdyn so close together.” She laughed. “I would have quite liked to see their expressions.”

  “They’ve told you what happened while you were…sleeping,” said Tamara. “Now I would like you to answer my questions.”

  “Of course,” said Cathala. “We have a great deal of work to do, and the more knowledge you have, the better.”

  “How can I possibly be Talitha?” said Tamara. “I met the High Augur of the gray elves, and she knew Talitha. The elves of the Unity would have known Talitha, and they should have recognized me on sight.”

  “She is right,” said Selene. “I saw Master Talitha from a distance several times during the battle for Urd Maelwyn. Tamara Earthcaller looks nothing like her.”

  Cathala frowned. “Are you a gray elf?”

  Selene grinned. “I can answer most definitely that I am not.”

  “Mmm, yes. Anyway,” said Cathala, turning her attention to Tamara. “Your face changed, as did your body. The Sword of Life exacted a price for splitting your life into seven pieces, and that was part of it. You look quite a bit different than you did in your first life. For one thing, you are taller, which I imagine is useful. For another, the eyes, yes? Each one of the seven shards had a differently-colored left eye. That was another price the Sword of Life exacted. Talitha was a master of the magic of all four of the primal elements, and that power was divided among the seven shards. The shards might have received powers drawn from the Seven Swords, as well.” Some of Cathala’s hauteur faded into sadness. “Not that it did them any good, not if the Maledicti killed them.”

  “I was born knowing how to use the magic of elemental earth,” said Tamara. “But since I left Kalimnos with Tamlin and the others, I’ve remembered how to use elemental fire and air.”

  Cathala nodded. “That makes sense. You have begun to recover your memories of your first life. That includes the magical skill and power you once wielded. You were the greatest of the Arcanii, the most powerful Sister of the Order to ever live. You were High King Kothlaric’s strong right hand as he drove back the Sovereign’s armies. And now you have returned, and together we shall guide Owyllain to victory over the New God.”

  “Tell me why I did this to myself,” said Tamara. “Tell me why this happened. Please start from the beginning.”

  “Very well,” said Cathala. “Perhaps that would be best.”

  She glanced at the sky, collecting her thoughts, and nodded.

  “The Sovereign warred against the men of Owyllain ever since Connmar Pendragon escaped the ruin of Andomhaim and founded Aenesium,” said Cathala. She nodded to Calliande. “Or what he thought was the ruin of Andomhaim. Anyway, the men of Owyllain should have fallen swiftly to the Sovereign’s forces, but Rhodruthain founded the Order of the Arcanii and taught us to wield elemental magic as weapons. Just as it seems the archmage Ardrhythain of the high elves taught the men of
Andomhaim to wield the magic of the Well of Tarlion and gave them the soulblades.”

  “It is a pity we didn’t have soulblades here,” said Tamlin. “Much evil might have been averted.”

  Cathala ignored him and kept speaking. “With the powers of the Arcanii, we kept the hordes of the Sovereign at bay, but no more. Then Kothlaric became High King. He was…” Her voice trailed off, and she shook her head. “He was magnificent.”

  “What do you mean?” said Calliande.

  “Most people are disappointing,” said Cathala. “Or hypocrites, or failures, or leering oafs in armor. Kothlaric, though…in the chronicles, you read about men who changed the path of history. Like Alexander of Macedon, or Julius Caesar, or Constantine the Great. Or Malahan Pendragon and Connmar Pendragon. Kothlaric was a man like that, a man of vision and purpose. And he was not an evil man, as great men often are. A hard man, yes, but a just man, and a brave one. He rallied the Nine Cities, and he forged alliances with the gray elves, the xiatami, the jotunmiri, the orcish warlords, and others. A great host followed Kothlaric, and he won battle after battle against the Sovereign’s hosts.”

  “With Talitha at his side,” said Ridmark.

  “Yes,” said Cathala. “Talitha was born in a mining village in the mountains near Xenorium. She manifested great magical power, and she entered the Order at a young age. Soon she grew in skill and strength, and when the old Master was slain battling the High Warlock of Vhalorast, Talitha was unanimously elected the Master of the Order.” Cathala smiled, the first genuine smile Ridmark had seen on her face. “She was…she was truly a remarkable woman. I had never met anyone like her. I was the youngest daughter of one of the concubines of the King of Echion, and neither my mother or father had much use for me. But then my magic manifested, and Talitha made me one of her personal apprentices, along with three others.”

  “Nicion, Cavilius, and Taerdyn,” said Ridmark.

  “You’ve met them, I see,” said Cathala.

  “All but Cavilius,” said Ridmark. Though given the Sword of Shadows’ power to warp memories, Ridmark supposed it was possible that the Masked One had been standing in the room with them and he had never noticed.

  It was an uneasy thought.

  “They were fools,” said Cathala. “All three of them.” She sniffed with disdain. “I was the only one who was worthy of being Talitha’s apprentice, but the Master had a kind heart. Frankly, I suspect that the three of them were in love with both Talitha and me, and secretly lusted over us.”

  That…seemed unlikely. Cathala was a beautiful woman, but a man would have to be truly besotted with her to put up with her harsh tongue or possess enough force of personality to seduce her as Justin Cyros had. And Ridmark had met Nicion, who was a harsh and dour man. Sometimes age embittered a man, but everyone who knew Nicion Amphilus agreed that he had always been a harsh and dour man. No doubt he had never liked Cathala.

  “Then you and the other apprentices helped Talitha?” said Calliande.

  “Yes, though I was the most capable of them,” said Cathala. “Kothlaric also convinced Rhodruthain to help our campaign against the Sovereign.”

  “How did he do that?” said Ridmark.

  “Rhodruthain is the Guardian of Cathair Animus,” said Cathala, “but only because Cathair Animus is built around the Well of Storms. That was why the gray elves came to this land long ago. Apparently, there are several such wells of power scattered around this world, but the ancient high elves locked most of them to prevent their misuse. The Well of Storms, however, was not locked. The gray elves came here to tap its power, and the Sovereign followed them, not to destroy the gray elves, but to seize the Well of Storms for himself. Kothlaric convinced Rhodruthain that by overthrowing the Sovereign, they could remove the threat to the Well of Storms forever.”

  “And you did overthrow the Sovereign,” said Ridmark.

  “It was a glorious victory,” said Cathala, her eyes growing distant. “The men of Owyllain and gray elves and orcs and xiatami and Takai halflings and jotunmiri warriors marching in unison against their ancient foe. I doubt you can imagine such a league of kindreds joined in common purpose, Shield Knight.”

  “Yes, it’s utterly unimaginable,” said Ridmark, catching Calliande’s eye.

  She almost stopped herself from smiling. Almost.

  “We made the armies of the Sovereign as dust upon the threshing floor,” said Cathala. “And I saw Kothlaric, Rhodruthain, and Talitha duel the Sovereign below the shattered gates of Urd Maelwyn. The Sovereign carried the Staff of Blades in that battle. Yes, Lady Kalussa, the very staff that you now carry. I never saw such a duel. Magic and blades and fire and lightning…the entire vale of Urd Maelwyn seemed to echo with it. But in the end, the High King, the Master, and the Guardian slew the Sovereign and his armies shattered. We took Urd Maelwyn, and entered the Sovereign’s own tower.” Her face grew somber beneath its arrogance. “And there we found the Seven Swords. Much evil would have been averted if the tower had been destroyed and the Swords buried so they would never have been found.”

  “What happened when you found the Swords?” said Tamara.

  “Kothlaric had the Sight and Rhodruthain ancient knowledge, and together they realized what the Swords were,” said Cathala. “The dwarven smith Irizidur had helped the Sovereign forge them as instruments to summon the New God. The Swords were created as tools to channel the power of the Well of Storms…”

  “Wait,” said Calliande, her eyes narrowing. “All we’ve heard is that the Seven Swords were forged to summon the New God. They were also designed to channel magical power from the Well of Storms?”

  “That was the means by which the New God would be summoned,” said Cathala. “I don’t know exactly what the New God is, save that it is a dark power of immense strength. But to bring the New God into this world would require an immense amount of magical power, and the Seven Swords were designed to channel and focus that power to a single point. The High King recognized the danger and asked Rhodruthain for counsel. The Guardian suggested we take the Seven Swords to Cathair Animus and destroy them in the Great Forge there. That was the only way to destroy them – they are impervious to any other force or power in this world.”

  “What went wrong at Cathair Animus?” said Calliande.

  Cathala let out a long breath and paced in a circle, ignoring Tamlin as she did. Ridmark wondered why she was ignoring him, why she seemed annoyed to see her son. Perhaps the fact that from her perspective Tamlin had aged fourteen years in the blink of an eye had unsettled her. Or maybe it was something else. Ridmark wondered more what had happened at Cathair Animus. They had heard so many different accounts, and all of them differed in some way from each other. Cathala had been there, had seen it firsthand.

  Though no doubt she would shade facts to make herself look better.

  “Everything,” said Cathala at last. “Everything went wrong.”

  “How so?” said Calliande.

  “We didn’t realize it at the time,” said Cathala, “but the Maledictus of Shadows had altered the High King’s memories. Rather than bringing the Seven Swords to the Great Forge, Kothlaric took them to the Chamber of the Well in Cathair Animus. If the Swords are taken there, they will summon the New God. At the last minute, Talitha and Rhodruthain realized what was happening, and they tried to stop him. Kothlaric believed they had betrayed him, and he fought back. His allies and vassals tried to defend him, and everything turned into chaos. In the end, Kothlaric was trapped within magical crystal in the Chamber of the Well, Talitha was mortally wounded, and the Seven Swords were scattered. Taerdyn took the Sword of Death, Cavilius the Sword of Shadows, and Justin Cyros the Sword of Earth. Hektor Pendragon took the Sword of Fire, and Nicion went with him. One of the Arcanii escaped with the Sword of Water, but the Confessor ambushed him, killed him, and claimed the Sword for his own. Based on what you have told me, Cavilius took the Sword of Air as well and turned your vassal knight into a magically-enslaved assassin. Rhod
ruthain managed to hold onto the Sword of Life, at least.”

  “Then why did I let Rhodruthain split me into seven lives?” said Tamara.

  “Because it was the only way,” said Cathala. “The only way to destroy the Swords.”

  “That doesn’t make sense. Explain,” said Tamara.

  “Rhodruthain used the Sight, and beheld a vision,” said Cathala. “Rhodruthain’s Sight revealed that Irizidur still lived, imprisoned in the Durance within Urd Maelwyn. The magic of the Durance kept Irizidur alive and in torment, and would keep him alive forever. The only way to destroy the Seven Swords would be to find Irizidur. He created them, and he knows how to destroy them.”

  “So why did I have to be split into seven lives for that?” said Tamara.

  “Because only the three of us knew the truth,” said Cathala. “You, myself, and Rhodruthain. But you were dying, Rhodruthain was discredited, and I was not strong enough to stand against the Maledicti by myself. So, you came up with a plan, my lady. Rhodruthain would strike you down with the Sword of Life, and that would splinter you into seven lives. The seven children would be scattered and hidden, and one of you would survive to reach Urd Maelwyn and free Irizidur.” Cathala rubbed her jaw. “We knew it was a risk. Rhodruthain said the Sword’s power would carry a heavy price. Of the seven lives, six of them would die, and only one would survive to reach Urd Maelwyn. But I knew the shard I raised would be the one who survived, the one who, with my guidance, would save the world from the New God.”

  “Then you took Tysia?” said Calliande.

  “Yes,” said Cathala. “When Rhodruthain struck down Talitha with the Sword of Life, she died, but her life was split into seven different infants in that chamber. A strange sight to see. But Rhodruthain took six of the seven and said he would hide them in suitable places throughout Owyllain, with parents who would love them. I took one for myself and went to Cytheria. I had thought that I would live at Justin’s court as his mistress and that I would claim Tysia was a foundling I stumbled across on the road. Many children were orphaned in those days, after all.”