“Don’t like this,” muttered Jed behind us. “Fire shouldn’t be unattended.”
I wasn’t listening to him; I was thinking of my home. “Can she bring it back?”
She looked at me with her clear gray eyes. “You. You must bring it back.”
I stared at her, transfixed, like the poor rabbit Will had caught for breakfast. “Me?”
Just then, as if in answer, I heard a hissing. I ducked. An arrow passed my head so close the fletching brushed my hair.
“Ware!” I called.
“Knew we should have gone another way,” grumbled Jed.
He could move fast. I remembered that from my dream; the smooth way he pulled his sword from its sheath even as he kicked his mount into a sidestepping action. Dodging behind a tree, while beside us came the shouts of men. Will dropped low in his saddle, following Jed. N’tombe dashed into the underbrush.
I hastened to a tree, like Jed and Will, and pulled my bow from its holder on the saddle.
More arrows followed, and still more, until the air seemed alive with their whining. The mare neighed, but I was firm and kept her still behind the wide willow trunk. To dodge about would be certain death. I waited for the archers to make themselves known. A volley like that meant only one thing – there would be an attack to come.
A trampling in the underbrush. I turned, saw a small brown horse twisting behind a tree and heard the hum of the fletch. Behind me now. I shot at the movement, heard a scream, then more trampling.
Shot again. Nothing.
A trembling at my wrist, like an elbow jogging me in the ribs. A reminder. You can see, N’tombe had said last night. I tried to calm myself, my thoughts, thinking of the gray sky above my head, the dancing leaves and the sweet-smelling grass of summer. And there: a glimmer of gold, like a reminder of warmth on a cold winter’s day. And there, behind the tree, a column of gold, was the web of light that meant only one thing: a man. And the blackness at its core meant something else: death.
So I lifted my bow and shot, and dimly heard a cry and a thud. No time, no time. There was another, and another, and a third, hiding in the bracken.
Another scream, this time nearer, and I spun and saw a man toppling forward in his saddle, with Will’s knife in his eye. Will would have one knife left, Jed had a sword and I had my quiver of arrows. And my knives.
A trembling of the leaves and I shot again. What about N’tombe?
What weapons did she have?
How stupid I was. She needed no weapon. She was a weapon. Down she came out of the trees like a gale, a howling storm that spun and screamed and cut, a net of light or a spinning top, with sharp steel at its side. Like a whirlwind she pulled men to her and left them broken and bleeding as she passed.
But in the forest behind they were massing, trying to overwhelm us. I slipped into the hidden world of life and light. Reaching, I pulled threads of gold from the curving light of the forest, throwing it toward the men crouched behind the tree trunks, trying to hide.
They howled and ran toward the clearing, where N’tombe, still spinning, cut them to pieces, or away, down to the river. Where they would sink in the rising tide, their metal vests not equipped for swimming.
“Dana!” Will called, and I blinked. Above me, in the trees, more men were leaping. I blew, shaking the great trunks, and down they tumbled, screaming. But one of them struck my mare with his sword, and she reared. I lifted, falling like a rag doll to the ground.
“Dana!” called Will again. He leapt down toward me and, back to back, we faced the enemy, who laughed, thinking we were easy prey. Will killed the man with one stroke, splitting his smile in two. Still more came upon us and Jed was hard-pressed, his sword thwacking and trembling on the air. Will and I spun and kicked; heads and groins, throats and eyes. Any part that was unprotected, vulnerable.
Men screamed and fell.
“Hold!” called a voice.
TeSin. He stood in the center of the clearing, his knife pressed to N’tombe’s throat. How had he done that? How could anyone approach her? And then I saw: she was exhausted. She’d been replenishing herself from the forest energy last night, but now that had faded. He’d simply cut the thread that bound her to the trees.
But to have done that, he must be able to see them.
“You,” he called. “The Princess. Give her to me. Or ...” he pushed the tip of the knife closer to N’tombe’s throat and she flinched as blood welled, dark red on her dark skin.
She stared at me and I knew what she was thinking. No!
I never listened to my governesses. I walked into the clearing. “I am here.”
He couldn’t understand me, but I, who had once been him in a dream, could read his thoughts. He would kill me and take the beads back to his king. Then he would be honored.
“Let her go,” I tipped my head to one side, nodding at him. He did nothing, but motioned for me to come nearer.
I did so, feeling my blades: one at my back, one between my shoulder blades, two in my boots.
N’tombe moaned and her hand moved. I watched the golden light reach toward her. TeSin brought his knife down, cut through it. She seemed to tremble, and sagged in his arms.
He had to catch her. It was all the opening I needed. I pulled the blade from my back and threw it hard. It seemed to turn in slow motion, arcing through the air, sunlight flickering on its shiny surface, and with a grunt, he brought his shield about and knocked it from the air.
I was on him, my blade shimmering, blurring as I moved, my foot kicking up toward his face. He blocked it with a grunt of surprise and called. Five guards rushed to his defense, and suddenly I found myself in a true combat space.
I was dimly aware of Will rushing to N’tombe, clearing his own death arena about him, and Jed, circling the clearing, looking for an opening. But now here was I, in this moment.
Alden and Owein had called me formidable. Truly, they knew nothing. I had always held myself back before, scared of hurting someone I loved or creating an unwomanly fuss, or Mother forbidding me to fight again. But here, now, were these men who wanted to kill me and my friends and I was fully armed and infinitely dangerous. I spun and dodged, kicked the first man in the face, followed it with a blow to his neck. He fell. I threw a knife into one man’s eye and he reeled backwards. The third tried to rush me from behind, while the fourth feinted in front of me. I spun, kicked the man behind me in the groin, stabbed the fourth in his armpit.
I didn’t stop to watch, but turned to the man who lay curled over his groin and stabbed him in the throat. The fifth waited, watching cautiously, then danced about me, weaving and twisting until, tiring of this game, I pulled a knife from my boot and threw it at him, catching him in the gut. He had mail on, and the knife bounced off him, so I moved in closer, jabbing left and right with open hands, the edges firm, like a blade, and he winced away from the strikes. I followed with a thumb strike to the eye.
TeSin stumbled backwards, his face suddenly fearful. He pulled his curved sword from its scabbard and whistled. Like a dog, his horse trotted to him. As a lion stalks its prey, I circled. He crouched, facing me with the tip of his sword. Who would make the first move? N’tombe, resting on the ground behind Will, grunted, a sigh in my mind. Light.
Light. I pulled a tendril of gold from the trees and, holding it like a net, rushed at TeSin, wrapping it about him so he stumbled. Will’s hand snaked out so fast I could barely see the movement. There was a thud and silently the warrior toppled backwards, Will’s knife piercing up under the mail, driving into his chest.
For a moment I was furious that Will had stolen this man from me. But a death is a death, and the hand wielding the knife is not important, as long as you are still standing at the end of the fight.
There was a brief flurry, a crashing in the bushes, as the two remaining men turned their horses and ran. And then there was silence. I knew we were safe when the thrush resumed its song.
Jed called to the horses, calming them with kind wor
ds and gentle strokes. Poor beasts, pulled from a warm stable to open warfare. With horrible sucking sounds, Will retrieved the knives, cleaning them on the clothes of the dead men.
I knelt beside N’tombe. “Are you all right?”
She grinned. “What do you think?”
I narrowed my eyes. In the daylight she looked tired and unharmed, but when I gazed at her properly, seeing her as she really was – a golden pillar of light – I could see there was something wrong.
“You’re exhausted,” I said abruptly. “You need to rest.”
She coughed, struggled onto her elbow, reaching toward my face.
“Little Dana,” she said fondly. “Always surprising me.”
I pulled spun golden energy from the trees and wrapped it about her as a man wraps a shivering child. “Hush,” I said and called to Jed. “We need somewhere dry and warm.”
He picked up N’tombe, much to her annoyance. “The ruins.”
“Yes. They’ll do.”
“Think those soldiers will be back?”
I thought for a moment, reaching into the golden light of the trees, searching for disturbances in their untrammeled energy. “No,” I said. “There were only two survivors. And they’re heading away from here as fast as they can.”
“Survivors,” grumbled Jed. “Don’t like that.”
“This is more important,” I said. “Without N’tombe, we’re lost.”
He grunted. “Can you sit on a horse, Lady?”
She murmured and he helped her up onto the back of her mare. I thought of last night’s exhaustion. Will and Jed seemed fated to carry and feed us and wrap us in warmth when we were cold.
“Thank you,” I said to Will and he put his arms about me. “I’ve never seen you ...” he said, and stopped.
“What?”
“Never seen you fight like that.”
“You’ve watched me fight lots of times. You taught me, remember?”
“Not like that,” he said, his voice fearful. “Dana. I thought I was going to lose you.”
I kissed him. Soon he relaxed and his lips moved on mine.
“Ah hum,” said Jed. “When you’re quite ready.” He held N’tombe’s reins. “We’ll rest up for a day or so, get our strength back.” He looked over at my tutor, who sat quietly, clinging to her pommel with hands that suddenly seemed small. “Then we’ll be on our way. Is that right, boss?”
Jed clucked to his horse and, with stumbling hooves, they left the grassy space that smelt of death. Behind us, hidden in the long grass, still men gazed with open, unmoving eyes at the summer sky. Will kissed me again and as we clung together the sun came out from behind the clouds. Then he took my hand and led me to my horse. We rode from the clearing. Above, crows circled in the open air, searching for a place to roost.
Chapter Forty-One
Homecoming
Late in the afternoon, Will lay quiet under the trees, inhaling the sweet smell of summer grass. The pursuit had broken off, for a time anyway, and here the ground was dry and solid. He no longer had to look at moving waves, and he no longer felt ill with seasickness. There was enough food in the panniers for a week or more, and the weather was fine. Finally, here was a brief moment of peace.
He barely felt he’d drawn breath since washing onto the beach. Aside from those few hours in the silence of the cave, the arrival at the Kingdom hadn’t meant an opportunity for rest. Just a blur of riding, fighting and gut-wrenching panic.
When Dana had arrived with N’tombe, bringing fresh horses, fresh food – well, he’d not felt so happy since he’d first arrived at the Castle. The food and horses were welcome, of course, but to see Dana, running and smiling – it was as though, for a moment, all the hardships of the travel had disappeared. And then she leapt into his arms, and kissed him ...
Without thinking, he’d kissed her back.
Will closed his eyes. Such fear he’d felt for her, since then. Those creatures on the cliffs – what were they? And the lights shining over the Kingdom, the waves roaring, and Dana’s own wrist blazing against the night.
The Guardian had taken the Kingdom, N’tombe had said, but how was that possible? How could you just uproot a country, move it somewhere else? No one had that power. And then N’tombe had called Dana the Guardian. But everyone knew the Guardian was an old woman with a necklace. Dana didn’t have a necklace. Still, she’d been so tired, he hadn’t liked to ask her.
The worst moment had been that morning when the commander stepped into the clearing, his knife against the Enchantress’s throat, and challenged the Princess to fight. He’d felt such horror when she’d stepped forward. “No!” he thought. “You can’t ...”
No matter how gifted she was with her daggers, how could she even dream she could match a Noyan? But it was a good thing he had kept his thoughts to himself. How had she learnt to fight like that? She seemed to flow through space; appearing, disappearing at will. He’d blinked, awe-struck; she reminded him of N’tombe – the sense of power, the immense control.
And then there was an opening, and without thinking, he leapt toward the enemy. He had to protect her.
* * *
“What are you thinking?”
Leaning on her elbows, Dana smiled at him. Tendrils of her hair had escaped her braids, framing her face like a disordered halo.
Will smiled and twisted a curl around a finger. He pulled her head down, kissed her. Her lips were soft and moved gently on his.
“Don’t stop,” she said hazily, when he took his mouth away.
“Do you realize,” said Will, “this is the first breathing space I’ve had in many a day. I’ve been checking our provisions. We’ve flour. I can make flat bread for our supper.”
“Food?” she said. “Is that all you can think of?” Will laughed and kissed her. “Not all.”
He pulled her head onto his chest. Dana rested quietly against his heart. Together they listened to the wind in the trees.
It didn’t really matter what she was: Guardian or fighter or princess.
As long as he was with her, he was home.
Chapter Forty-Two
Dreaming
Stars peeped through the willow leaves overhead. I pulled my cloak over my shoulders, huddling into it for warmth. The others were used to sleeping outdoors, but I missed my bed, I missed my home. Were the people at the Castle even aware that they had moved?
Only Daddy really paid attention to the scenery; would he notice the change? Maybe they weren’t even awake – perhaps Rosa had set them all to sleeping.
N’tombe, a dark shape against the night, stood on the bank keeping watch. She’d slept so much yesterday, she said, that there was little point in her resting further. She shifted and a tendril of gold from the forest spun out toward her, wrapping her like a blanket.
Sometimes N’tombe seemed to merge with the light, so it was hard to see the woman against the brightness. Did I do that? Did Rosa? My eyes felt heavy but still I couldn’t sleep. This time last week I was a princess with nice clothes, a bed and a family. An annoying family sometimes, but still, they were mine. Now all were gone. I’m a vagabond, I thought, with a strange thrill. I’d fought hard today, slain men. Their blood was in my hair and on my clothes. Was I still me?
The beads about my wrist tightened and seemed to warm. “Hush,” they murmured.
My eyes closed. I dreamed. This was my dream.
Rosa stood at her window, a crow on her fist. She whispered and the bird tipped its head, staring at her from a bright eye. She lifted her hand and, like someone throwing a ball, tossed the bird from the window. Calling in a harsh voice, it spread its wings wide, circled the tower then turned away, flying toward the sea. Gradually it dwindled to a speck, disappearing into the blue.
“You’ve done well,” she said.
“I’m not sure what I’ve done. I think you did it all.”
She smiled. “We did it together, child. Did you not feel it?”
“Maybe.” There had been
something from me, but what it was, I couldn’t tell. “I’m not used to this business, after all.”
She wore the necklace. The ruby gleamed in the sunlight. Rainbows, tinged with red, reflected from its facets and danced across the chamber. Her hair was lank, her face pale and pinched with pain.
“Are you well?”
She shrugged. “As well as can be expected.”
“And my family?”
“Do not worry for them.”
“Are they awake? Or have you put everyone to sleep?”
“A little of both,” she said. “Watch.”
She brought the crystal globe over to the window. Inside the glass my family seemed to dance, like tiny dolls in a ball of snow. Mother smiled, Owein scowled, Alden glinted charmingly and my father ... Standing away from the others, Daddy stared out of the ball. He seemed to see me, and lifted a hand.
“They do not realize they are dreaming,” she said fondly, “save Leovane, I think; he has some of the power and can sense my workings. He is confused, a little, but he trusts me enough to let me do my job, as I leave him to do his.”
“They are safe then?”
“Safer than you or I,” she answered. “For we are awake, child, and we stand guard.” She turned to the window. “Look.”
Far away, the mountains were purple against the haze. As I looked, the haze seemed to thicken, growing like smoke from a distant fire. Claws of cloud stretched toward us, then a breeze sprang up and they drifted away. Rosa sighed, a harsh breath of pain.
“The enemy,” she said, “is seeking us. Yet we remain hidden; he cannot find us, not if he searches under every rock in every world. But I am weak, child, and old. I do not have the strength to destroy him. That task is yours.”
“Mine?”
What did I know of the world outside the Kingdom? I couldn’t even sleep on the ground properly – how could I, a girl barely sixteen, seek out an eternal king and kill him? He would have armies and sorcerers and probably terrible weapons. And he was old; experienced. I was still learning.
The SoulNecklace Stories Page 33