The SoulNecklace Stories

by R. L. Stedman

  “No one,” I whispered sadly. “No one at all.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Following the Trail

  “Where have you taken her?”

  Will pushed his knife so hard against TeSin’s neck that the skin blanched. But the Noyan smiled as though the steel against his throat meant little.

  “Will!” Jed shouted. “No!” He grabbed Will’s arm, tried to pull it down. “You kill him, we learn nothing. Nothing! Is that what you want?”

  Will kept the knife at the man’s throat, but he heard Jed, processed the thought, considered the argument. Jed was right, yes. But it was hard, so hard, to put the knife down. He settled for reducing the pressure on the man’s throat. The Noyan put his hand to his neck, sighed. Relief? Or sorrow?

  “You ask,” TeSin coughed, “where is the girl?” His speech was harshly accented, so it was hard to make out the words.

  Jed nodded. “The girl. Yes. And the Enchantress.”

  “Enchant-ress?”

  “Magic worker. The woman with the dark face.”

  “Dark face? Ah! Darkface. I know not.”

  “You lie. You took them!” Will pressed his knife to the man’s throat again. Again, there was no fear, but a certain wariness in the eyes, and irritation.

  “Please. You kill me, I cannot help you.” TeSin put his hand on Will’s and pushed his arm away. Will allowed this. The man was not so formidable; he could kill him later. “I too, am seeking.”

  A throat cleared softly. “Gentlemen,” said a voice. “If I might be of assistance?” A portly man stood behind the counter. Behind him hovered the shop clerk.

  “You are the owner?” said Jed

  The man bowed. He wore a white shirt, its cuffs rolled up, and a cravat at his throat. A thick mustache hid half his face. “Bryn Jones sir, at your service.”

  “Did you provision a ship say, a week ago?” asked Jed “We want to know the name of the vessel. Where she was from, where she was going. Who were her crew? What supplies they purchased from you.”

  “So many questions,” said the store man, rubbing his hand across his mustache. “Such interest in a vessel suggests this was no ordinary ship.” His eyes were acute.

  Will could feel anger welling. He wanted to kill something. Or someone. He banged the hilt of his knife hard, on the shop counter. “Just. Answer. The question.”

  Jones took a step backwards, staring at the knife as if hypnotized. “Davey,” he said, still looking at the knife, “Go get the account book, will you?”

  The shop clerk jumped. “Y-y-yes sir.”

  “I also seek ship,” said TeSin.

  “Why?” asked Will

  “Is … complicated,” said TeSin and sighed. “Please. I sit?” He held up a hand to show Will it was empty, to show Will he meant no harm. At least, Will hoped that was what he meant. But the man seemed tired and he held himself stiffly, as if favoring an old wound. Well, of course he would. He did have an old wound; Will had given it to him.

  “I thought I’d killed you.”

  TeSin lowered himself onto a wooden stool. “You did.” He sighed, rubbed his side. “Someone save me.”

  “Who?”

  “Girl. Not know her name. She live in stone castle.” He rubbed his head. “Bright hair.”

  “Dana? She saved you?” Why would she do that?

  The clerk returned, carrying a bound accounts book. He put it on the counter with a thud, then retreated, stepping closer to the door. Will realized he was still carrying his knife. When he sheathed it, the two shop men relaxed and Mr Jones opened the account book. He flicked through the pages quickly.

  “This week, you say?”

  Jed nodded, and Will described the ship. Square prowed, square sailed. Three masts. The sails were pleated and there was a windlass, kind of like a flat wheel, in the mid-deck, that was used for raising them. He was surprised at the detail he could remember.

  The chandler turned to his shop clerk. “Wasn’t this the Evans’s ship?”

  Davey nodded. “They needed supplies. Said they had a contract with some foreign folk. Rushed, they were. Thought it was mighty strange, the Evanses not being ones for provisioning ships, but you know what they’re like sir. Impatient, not given to discussion.”

  He coughed, looked at Will.

  Will tried to sound calm and not at all like the Evans brothers. “These men. Evans. They wouldn’t have blond hair and blue eyes, would they? Have they been seen recently?”

  The chandler stared at them. “You’ve not heard of the Evanses then?”

  “No,” said Jed. “We ain’t from round here.”

  “Aye, well, that’s them all right.” The man sounded amazed at their ignorance. “They all have that hair, white as bone it is. Ma Evans, she’s been a-wailing all over town; they ain’t been home for four nights.”

  Will felt momentary pity for these angry Evans brothers. Probably they’d been lured to that field by a man waving gold. All so a magician could steal their faces, their bodies. And why would a magician want the body of an irritable townsman? Most likely so they could move around unremarked; with the faces of irascible locals, they would have been able to come and go with folk avoiding asking any questions.

  Then they’d taken Dana, N’tombe. Where? Why would they want the Princess?

  “Did these brothers say where they were going?” he said.

  The chandler shook his head. “I’m afraid not sir. But I have a record of their order, if that would help?”

  * * *

  After copying out the record sheet in neat copperplate, Mr Jones insisted they take tea with him. To celebrate, he said, their entrance to Abervale. Davey, the shop clerk, had long since disappeared.

  A rough road, little more than a trail, linked Towyn directly with Abervale. The chandler pointed it out to them; it was more direct, he said, and easier to follow than cutting across the fields to the castle ruins, for it lead directly around the cliff’s edge, past Evans Point. Provided they kept the sea to their left they were bound to reach the village.

  By unspoken agreement, Will and Jed allowed TeSin to travel with them. The horses seemed pleased to be together: swishing their tails, touching noses, but Will felt it was strange to travel with a man he’d tried to kill. Although the Noyan appeared different from his earlier encounters; gone was the arrogant warrior of the Crossing. Now, the man seemed quiet, thoughtful. And his wound seemed to be paining him, although Will had a suspicion that it wasn’t near as bad as TeSin pretended.

  Will sighed. What were they to do now? The list of ship’s provisions had been unremarkable enough, save for the quantity of rice required, which the chandler had said was not normal provender for vessels in these parts.

  They rounded the cliff top. Below, sea birds called loudly to their mates on their cliff-edge nests and the waves sucked at the rocks.

  “The girl,” said TeSin, “Bright hair.”

  “Dana,” Jed looked at Will.

  “Yes. She save me.”

  “What happened?”

  Haltingly, TeSin told them of his wound, how the surgeons had worked over it. “I close eyes. Try pass out of world. No shame in dying. Also, I in much pain.”

  “I’m sorry,” Will didn’t regret trying to kill the man, but he did feel some guilt at causing pain.

  “You good fighter. Very good. But my wife, Morque. She dead, many years. I want join her.”

  TeSin told of traveling on a stretcher, slung between two horses, as the army crossed the moors. The wound had gotten worse, and he’d began to bleed. Unslinging the stretcher, the magicians had laid him in the shade of a stone wall and left him to die.

  “They …” TeSin paused. “They evil.”

  Will thought of skulls, piled by a mountain path. Of the Emperor, ancient and powerful, of slaves and battles. “Your whole kingdom is evil.”

  The Noyan looked surprised. “No! I … honor parents. Honor king. Worship gods. Magicians? Phah!” He spat. “Always, they with m
e. Tell me what to do. Where to go. Have to do what they say; they strong work magic. But they have no honor. They leave me.”

  He spoke of waking, feeling great pain in his side. So much pain, he thought he had passed beyond death. But when he opened his eyes, he saw the girl, all bright.

  “Like fire, all around her. She pull fire from the trees. She make me well. Ah, but it hurt, it hurt. Then she disappear.”

  “What happened next?”

  “I sleep.”

  A gull, calling harsh and loud, arched overhead, and Will’s eyes followed it. Far to the east, a black crow flew fast toward them.

  The road passed behind a rock cairn, turning toward the watchtower that Will had first spied from the ruined fort that morning. As they drew closer the fortress appeared imposing, its iron-bound gates forbidding. Waves broke around its base, washed the air with spray. It seemed an inhospitable place for such a structure, although good for fortification.

  In the distance, the crow grew closer. Mighty large for a bird, it seemed strangely shaped. Will squinted into the sun, trying to see better.

  “I different, now,” announced TeSin.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I speak your tongue, now. A little. I see … like fire. Sometime.”

  “You see fires?”

  The man shook his head. “No. Is like light. I see light, sometime.”

  Will and Jed looked at each other. Will felt sudden fatigue; bone-wearying, crushing exhaustion. So much had happened today, but he was no closer to finding Dana than he’d been in the morn.

  Waves dashed against the fortress, white against black stone and foam blew in the wind. This must be Evans Point. How had it been built?

  With a harsh sound of clanking chains, the gate of the fortress opened. Riders flooded from the doorway, passing across the causeway. They called to the travelers, but their shouts were lost in the sea’s roar.

  “Look out!” said Jed sharply.

  The riders, a group of about twenty men, all bearded and helmed, had reached the cliff tops. They wore long cloaks that flapped in the wind and some stood tall in their stirrups, crying out. They all had swords at their belts. As one, they turned their horses and galloped along the cliff edge toward Will and Jed. They did not look friendly.

  In this lonesome place there was nowhere to go, no cover.

  “Twenty against three,” Jed grunted. “Not sure I like those odds.”

  “Do we have a choice?” Will shouted

  “When,” asked Jed, “have we ever had a choice?” He loosened his sword.

  Effortlessly, TeSin drew his bow and set an arrow to its string. Seeing this, the riders slowed their gallop, stopping their mounts just outside bowshot. A warrior stepped his horse forward, his arms raised. Standing upright in his stirrups, he called to them. His voice was high and faint against the boom of the surf.

  Jed put a hand to his ear. “What?” he called.

  The black speck in the sky was growing closer, becoming larger as it flew toward them.

  The leader waved his hands. Empty. Watching TeSin and his bow, he walked his horse toward them. Will felt a sudden shock – not a man, but a woman! Old, judging by the white hair, although she seemed more comfortable on horseback than any old woman had a right to be. Her hair was the color of snow. Hadn’t the dead men in the meadow had hair that color?

  “Who are you?” shouted the woman. “And why were you asking of my sons?”

  Behind her, the men muttered angrily. “Why talk, Ma?” called one. “Let’s just kill them and be done with it.”

  Will set an arrow to the bowstring, drew the bowstring back. Not all the way, but far enough to act as a warning. Beside him, TeSin lifted his bow high, ready to shoot for distance. Just a few hours ago, Will had been like to put a knife through this man’s throat. Now, he was preparing to fight alongside him. Attacking his own kind, with an enemy as an ally? Another strange moment in a strange day.

  This must be the men’s mother. She seemed mighty militant – what must her sons have been like? For a moment, he felt almost grateful they were dead.

  Behind her, a man snarled impatiently, kicked his horse to a canter and ran full at them, his sword in hand. Its blade was long; not elegant, but functional.

  Hzzt!

  The man toppled from his saddle, an arrow in his eye. Seeing their companion fall, the other men roared into life, shouting in the sunlight, waving their swords. TeSin put another arrow to his bowstring.

  A horse screamed and reared, its rider falling heavily to the ground. Beside Will, TeSin, calm as a midsummer sea, drew and loosed, drew and loosed. Two more fell.

  Shouting, the men spurred their horses toward Will and TeSin, shortening the distance between them fast. Too close for arrows. Will pulled a knife from its wrist sheath. Index finger along the knife edge, palm loosely cupped. Arm back, hand back. He threw the knife hard, as hard as a man could throw a ball. A movement so practiced it was like turning in his sleep.

  The rider fell, Will’s knife in his eye.

  Jed swung his sword; a man screamed, a horrible, gurgling scream. Jed never watched him fall, but turned his horse toward the next one. Will pulled a boot-knife from its scabbard – you could never have too many knives – cupped his hand, felt his finger stroke along the knife handle as he threw it, hard, at another man. Faster!

  TeSin’s curved sword was in his hand; sharp and bright and deadly. The warrior’s face seemed calm, almost bored, as he thrust. His adversary dodged, spinning his horse sideways, but slow, too slow; the sword caught him in his side as he passed. The man screamed, put a hand to his ribs and held his side as if trying to press his bones together.

  A big man with a long beard and dark helm rammed his horse at Will. He carried a blade of bright steel. Will slashed at him with his long knife; he couldn’t throw it, not again, he would need it. The rider sneered at him, then stopped, his face frozen in surprise as Will leaned under his swing and thrust the jagged knife into his armpit.

  Ma Evans screamed like a witch. “What have you done to my sons?”

  The men drew close, crowding them. Will’s horse began to back away, toward the cliff edge. Caught between the enemy and the sea, what chance did they have? And worse, who would help Dana, if they were all dead?

  Desperately, Will turned in his saddle, looking for help. But there was no aid, not here on this lonely track, save the black bird, growing closer. Not like to have help from a bird. He wiped sweat from his eyes; he had to fight, had to win. He pulled his last knife and threw with his left hand, into the eye of the enemy.

  There was a pause in the mêlée; the bearded men looked at each other, uncertain. TeSin held his sword pressed against the throat of the old woman. Much as Will had done earlier against the Noyan’s own neck.

  “She die!” called TeSin.

  This woman wasn’t one to let her guard down easily for she kicked out at the Noyan’s horse – Dana’s horse. Startled, the mare stepped sideways. The woman ducked and her men rushed at the Noyan.

  Then the ground about them erupted. A great roar, as though from the mouth of a dragon. A line of fire danced across the world. The earth trembled, and the cliff top shook.

  He’d seen it in the sky, thought it was a crow. But this was no bird. This was a magic worker in full power, trailing storm clouds behind her. Only once before had he seen her like this; all in black, with one arm pressed forwards, as though pointing at a target, as though steadying a lance. She seemed half-human, half-fire.

  A ring of flames crackled around Will and Jed, surrounded them in a dancing haze of heat and the crackling, blackening smell of smoke. The enemy’s horses neighed and reared, retreating backwards from the fire about their feet.

  They backed too quickly, with no mind for the ground about them. And with a roar, the cliff-edge crumbled. Screaming, their riders hurtled onto the rocks far below.

  But Jed’s and Will’s horses stayed calm, as though someone had placed a blanket over their
heads and whispered sweet words into their ears.

  The remaining attackers looked at each other and the fire, stared in sheer terror at the darkening sky. As one, they turned their mounts and fled.

  “Where are you going?” screamed the crone. “Cowards! Fight! Fight on, I say!”

  The flames about Jed and Will died.

  “Aha!” shouted Jed. “I knew it! I knew you would be all right!”

  Like water on a hot rock, the clouds lifted and disappeared. Will closed his eyes, lifting his face to the sudden sunlight and welcoming its touch. Surely, the world was a wonderful place.

  N’tombe put back her hood. “Where is the Princess?” she said. She glanced over at TeSin, staring back at her with fearful eyes. “And what is he doing here?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Puppets and Power

  Retrieving the nail, I scratched a mark on my calendar board. By now it held nearly twenty scratches, marking close to three weeks of imprisonment. It felt much longer. Days and nights had become confused, with too many people wandering through my head, talking, singing or telling me troubling stories.

  The weather grew warmer. On hot days every breath felt like an effort. I was sick of being dirty, sick of matted, straw-encrusted hair. I wanted a bath. I wanted clothes, proper clothes, not these horrible filthy rags. And food! I fantasized over food: fruit, vegetables, meat. I craved apples and custard tarts and bread, fresh from the ovens.

  With the thought of bread came thoughts of Will. Doubtless he and Jed had found an inn, and were being fed all manner of treats. Sometimes I was so jealous of this imagined lifestyle that I became angry with him, resenting him for going down that cliff and leaving me to be imprisoned.

  “Come, child,” whispered Adianna. “Be brave.”

  Sighing, I struggled to my feet. Time to do my exercises. I adopted a fight position. At first I moved slowly, stretching my legs. Kicked up with my left heel toward an imaginary opponent. One, two, three. Now my right side. I kicked forwards, leading with my heel. My body warmed, my pulse quickened.