Longing's Levant

by Charlotte Boyett-Compo

  Kaibyn’s leer was predatory. “Aye, I damned well do.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tamara lay upon her bed and stared up at the vault of the stone ceiling above her. The palm of her right hand stroked her belly where Evann-Sin’s child was growing. A gentle smile creased her lips for a moment before the first tear slid slowly down her pale cheek.

  There was no moonlight in Sheol—no light, no warmth of any kind. Evil magic made it possible to see in this hellish place. The tortured sound of the walls heaving hopeless breaths had ceased to distract her, but she was aware of the lost souls encased in that hard stone. Just as Lilit had told her she would be, Tamara often heard the tormented cries and pitiful screams of the Lost Ones. She said prayers for those nameless souls when she took to her bed for sleep.

  Lilit had been gone for two days now, and not even the bat-women—Amenirdis and Hekat—had shown themselves this waking period. Though one or the other brought cold, tasteless food for Tamara three times each period, the young woman’s belly was growling for she’d eaten nothing in quite some time.

  “Perhaps they have left me here to die, little one,” she said to her unborn child.

  Almost as though her words had conjured the food, it appeared on the table by the bed. For once, it was hot and smelled palatable.

  Swinging her feet to the floor, Tamara attacked the food and found it was as delicious as it smelled. She gobbled it like a starving animal, mindless of the grease that dripped down her chin. A faint movement in the darkest corner of her room made Tamara start and she paused with a leg of chicken at her lips.

  Amenirdis appeared from out of the darkness. Of the two fiends, she was the comelier—though no one would ever have labeled either pretty.

  “We are slaves here just as you are,” the bat-woman whispered. “Though Hekat doesn’t mind it as much as I.” She came closer to Tamara’s bed. “Perhaps you will remember me when you are free of this place, milady.”

  Tamara dropped the de-fleshed chicken bone to the chipped platter upon which she had found it. Running the back of her hand under her messy chin, she replied she doubted she would ever be free of Lilit.

  “But you will,” Amenirdis said. “He comes for you.”

  “Evann-Sin?” Tamara asked, standing so quickly her unappeased hunger made her lightheaded.

  Amenirdis came closer still and lowered her voice. “Aye, he will be with the other but it is he of whom I speak.”

  “Kaibyn?” Tamara prompted. “The demon?”

  “Nay, he would not dare show himself in the Abyss. It is the other.”

  “What other?” Tamara questioned. “I don’t know who you mean. It is Rabin?”

  “I do not know his name but he has spoken to me in my thoughts. He is a powerful One with the Blood.”

  Tamara shrank back. “He is a blood-drinker?” Her eyes went wide. “My warrior is with a blood-drinker?”

  Amenirdis nodded. “He, too, is one of us, now.”

  Grief drove through Tamara like a sharp quarrel and she staggered back. “No,” she whispered, covering her face with her hands. “Oh, Riel, no!”

  “You must not sorrow, milady. All will be well. They come to destroy Queen Lilit and take you from Sheol. Is that not what you want?”

  “Who did this to my love?” Tamara asked. “Who turned my warrior to a fiend?”

  Amenirdis flinched. She took a step back, hurt registering on her leathery face. “It was the only way he could save you.”

  Tamara stared at her companion. “He embraced the Blood for me?”

  “You are his heart’s desire and his life is yours.”

  Racked with misery, Tamara sat down on her bed and drew her knees up. “He will come to curse the day he ever laid eyes upon me,” she said. Listlessly, she looked at Amenirdis. “Where is Lilit, anyway?”

  “Gone to see if any Daughters remain alive. Neither Hekat nor I believe any do, but the queen would not listen. If none of her Daughters have survived, she intends to make new ones.”

  “I doubt King Numair will have stood idly by and not put protection out for his people. Lilit may find it harder than she imagines making new ones,” Tamara said through clenched teeth.

  “I think you may be right.” She looked pointedly at Tamara’s belly. “All the more reason you should be very careful of your son.”

  Tamara locked gazes with the bat-woman. “Why are you being so solicitous, Amenirdis? What do you have to gain?”

  “Nothing save my freedom,” the fiend answered. “I would like nothing more than to have Sheol to myself and not be at the beckoning call of the queen. Solitude suits me. When he comes, he will help your lover rid the world of the last of the Daughters. By helping you, I hope to gain pardon. I have no desire to end up like Hekat and the queen. I want to go on.”

  “And turn others?” Tamara accused.

  Amenirdis shook her head. “Why would I want anyone else here? Everything I need is here at Sheol.”

  “What will you live on if there are no others?”

  “Live on?” Amenirdis questioned, and then she laughed. “Milady, I am not alive as you know life. I can exist for eternities if left alone!”

  “Without blood?” Tamara scoffed.

  Amenirdis smiled. “Milady, look around you. There is nourishment in the very walls!”

  A low keening came from the granite walls. Here and there a shriek sounded far, far off.

  Tamara shuddered. She did not trust the bat-woman and she wished there were some way to set the suffering souls imprisoned within the walls free. Perhaps Evann-Sin could think of a way if—and when—he came to rescue her.

  * * * * *

  Lilit was infuriated. No matter where she flew, no matter where she looked, none of her offspring had survived the battle. Ashes of those she had created floated about the war-torn lands and heaps of bones were still smoldering, left in the field to join the rest of the ash. Her temple at Bandor had been demolished and garlic planted in a circle around the ruins. Adding insult to injury, the peasants now wore silver images of the Slain One or had strung garlic bulbs to wear around their enticing necks. Not one unprotected neck could be found and the Queen of the Daughters of the Night raged with helpless fury.

  Back she flew to the Abyss, stopping only long enough to gather a net of moths as a treat for her remaining Daughters. Until the boy-child drew breath outside his mother’s womb, there would be no one to turn except…

  “Tamara,” Lilit whispered, and her fangs flashed.

  Thoughts of the blood of the young woman made Lilit’s mouth water. She circled her lips with her pointed tongue, already tasting the salty flavor of that innocence. There would be time to go after the warrior and to bring him to heel.

  “But your day will come, Evann-Sin,” Lilit cackled as she swiped a tasty moth from the net, crunching its musty body between her teeth. “And you will rue the day you ever tangled with me!”

  * * * * *

  They were only a few leagues from their destination when Cainer Cree attempted contact. The warrior had done as the Reaper had instructed and had tasted Tamara’s blood on the kerchief. Almost immediately, he sniffed the air and proclaimed he knew exactly where his lady was being kept.

  “It lies in that quadrant,” Evann-Sin said, reaching over Cainer’s shoulder to point at a place on the star map.

  The Reaper put his hand on the screen and closed his eyes. Within a matter of seconds, a slow smile stretched his expressive mouth. “It is called Sheol,” he said.

  “You have found her?” Evann-Sin asked anxiously.

  “Nay, but I have found someone to help us.”

  “Who?”

  “One of Lilit’s underlings,” the Reaper announced. “One who fancies the title of queen for herself.”

  “You trust her?”

  “Nay, I do not, and when we leave Sheol, she will leave, too, but there is no reason to let her know that now.”

  “Why am I hearing screams and moans of great pa
in, Reaper?” Evann-Sin asked.

  “Because the walls of Sheol are alive, Reaper,” Cainer replied, stressing the last word. He took his hand off the screen.

  “Don’t remind me,” the warrior mumbled.

  “The Lost Ones call to you to help them, and that is what you are hearing. I hear it, too.”

  “And we will help them,” Evann-Sin stated.

  “Aye, that we will. Now, think of your lady and try to garner her thoughts,” Cainer commanded.

  Evann-Sin placed his hand where the Reaper had put his and closed his eyes, trying to blot out the anguished sounds attempting to intrude on his thoughts.

  “I’m not getting anything.”

  “Speak her name and she will hear you,” Cainer suggested.

  “Tamara,” Evann-Sin whispered. He was silent for a moment then removed his hand. “I am not hearing her.”

  “Concentrate, boy!” the Reaper ordered. “If you want it bad enough, you’ll be able to contact her.”

  Once more Evann-Sin put his hand upon the screen. The concentration showed on his handsome face for his forehead was puckered, his eyes squeezed tightly shut, his lips pressed firmly together. His head was tilted to one side as he listened then all of a sudden his eyes snapped open—he had heard her!

  Riel!

  “I heard her!” he yelled. “Reaper, I heard her!”

  “Tell her we are coming and to be brave. Warn her not to allow Lilit near her.”

  As the warrior silently communicated with his lady, the Reaper put the ship on autopilot and got up from the console chair. They were very close to Sheol and the end of their journey together, but there was a more pressing item on the agenda for Cainer Cree.

  Aisling’s E.S.U. readout had slowly fallen until there was only one click left on the monitoring screen. Her breathing—though very widely spaced when he had first brought her on board—was now even and smooth, natural. She was waking slowly from her enforced slumber and already her flawless complexion was returning to its natural shade of ivory instead of the stark white of cryogenic sleep. There was color to her fingertips once more and now and again her eyelids fluttered as she came up out of the REM sleep that had claimed her for so long. Soon, those beautiful eyes would open and look into his.

  “Are we stationary?” Evann-Sin asked, coming over to the unit.

  “Until Aisling wakes, aye,” the Reaper replied.

  Impatient to be reunited with his own lady, the warrior could well understand Cainer’s feelings. Though he chomped at being made to wait even a second longer than necessary to rescue Tamara, he held his frustration in check.

  “I’ll not allow you to lose your lady, Riel,” the Reaper said quietly. “Give me a moment to kiss her good morn, and you will have my sword hand at your side.”

  There was a pleasant ping as the last click on the monitoring screen disappeared. Closely following the sound was a light hiss of air as the seal broke on the E.S.U.

  With his hands shaking, Cainer pushed the glass lid up and clicked it in place. He lowered his hands, hooked his fingers over the rim of the unit and stared unblinkingly at his lady’s face, waiting for her to wake.

  * * * * *

  Lilit barely noticed the strange-looking bird she flew swiftly past. She had only a sense of its sleek blackness but was so enraged, even the sight of a mysterious bird in her kingdom barely registered. Her thoughts were dark, seared with a burning desire to punish Tamara for all that had been lost. Not a one of the helpless moths had survived the journey to the Abyss for the queen had reveled in crunching the little creatures and listening to their screams of agony.

  Neither Amenirdis nor Hekat was waiting for her return and this slight further angered Lilit. She cursed her offspring, and shouted for them though still they were absent from her homecoming.

  Her midnight steed landed with a jolt upon the ground, adding to the fury that had claimed the queen. Throwing her leg over its head, she slid to the ground then kicked the hell-steed.

  Neighing its own anger, the horse leapt into the air, its wide wingspan fanning the dull, rancid air as it vanished around the side of the mountain.

  “Amenirdis! Hekat!” Lilit screamed, but received no answer.

  Digging her long fingernails into her palms, the queen strode heavily into her fortress. So furious was she, her shoulders were hunched, her backbone was rigid and her eyes were narrowed into thin, lethal slits.

  “Amenirdis! Hekat!” she yelled once more, and became livid that no one rushed to meet her.

  Tamara jumped as the door to her room was thrown open and she looked around to see Lilit framed in the doorway.

  “Where are those two ungrateful cunts?” Lilit demanded, looking around Tamara’s room as though expecting to find her missing servants hiding there.

  “How would I know?” Tamara replied. Her hands were behind her back as she sat on her bed.

  Lilit advanced into the room. “Do not dare speak to me with such disrespect, Traitor!”

  There was a wild bloodlust in the queen’s eyes, and as she spoke, her fangs were elongating, dripping with reddish-green saliva that sizzled as it hit the stone floor. Hands curled into claws with vermillion-tipped nails that were wickedly sharp, she came at Tamara. The rush of the queen’s black silk clothing rustled like dry bones as she moved, and all around them the walls cried out in distress.

  But Tamara did not appear concerned that the Queen of the Hell Hags was descending on her. She waited until Lilit was but a few feet away then removed her hands from her back. She opened her palm.

  Lilit came up short, staring in horror at the object lying on the young woman’s palm. Throwing up an arm to shield her face, the queen stumbled back, making an “argh” sound as she did.

  Tamara got up from the bed and walked toward the queen. “Don’t you want to punish me for those you lost, Your Majesty?” she cooed softly, and plucked the object from her palm to hold it up.

  Another strangled cry choked from Lilit’s crimson mouth, and she hissed as she moved back, away from the threat that was coming slowly toward her.

  It was but a braid of her own hair, sheared away from her other tresses with a chunk of sharp rock. But it had been embedded with words that were anathema to the queen—indeed, to all evil ones—and Lilit was powerless against it.

  One long braid that had been looped over at the top one inch, at the bottom five inches, and the remaining length bent to form arms then wound crisscross around the middle section to form a silken cross—the Sign of the Slain One.

  “Get that thing away from me!” Lilit spat. She was backing away, hunched over like the ancient crone she was.

  * * * * *

  Evann-Sin knew he should not intrude upon the reunion of the Reaper and his ladylove so he quietly walked to the lone table and chair and sat down.

  “They will both age before our eyes, warrior,” Cainer said, gaining Evann-Sin’s gaze. “They will wither and die, and we will be left alone to mourn their loss still again.”

  The warrior frowned. “I had not thought of that.” He felt a lurch in the region of his heart and shook his head. “By the gods, I had not thought of that.”

  “I will ask her permission, of course,” Cainer said softly, and sucked in a breath as he watched Aisling’s chest rise higher than it had before and then sink slowly. “But I intend to make her One with Us.”

  “And if she doesn’t want that?”

  “I refuse to even entertain such a notion, warrior. I am a greedy man and in this, I will have my way whether she wants it or not.”

  “Even though you obsess about the lone woman you made a Reaperess?”

  “Even so,” Cainer agreed, and then was still as death as his lady opened her lovely sea-green eyes and her luscious lips smiled at him.

  “Aisling,” the Reaper sighed, and bent over to take her into his arms.

  “I think I’ll use that teleport thing we fixed and take a stroll down in Sheol,” Evann-Sin remarked as he plucked an ancie
nt weapon from the horde the Mage had left there for him. When the Reaper did not answer and seemed otherwise occupied, the warrior laughed and removed himself from The Levant.

  * * * * *

  “Get that thing away from me!” Lilit screeched again. She was almost out the door—hissing and clawing like a cat.

  Beyond the Queen of the Hell Hags, Tamara could see her lover standing at the doorway but she was careful not to give away that knowledge. Though she saw the blade in his hand, watched him silently lifting it over his left shoulder, not even with a blink of her eye did she let on. And when the blade whistled through the air—gaining Lilit’s attention too late—Tamara never flinched as the sharp blade bit through the queen’s neck and severed her head from the rest of her.

  The head rolled back into the room and came to rest against the toe of Tamara’s boot. Without a thought, the young woman kicked it into the corner and smiled as she heard the sigh of pleasure come from the wall.

  “Where are the others?” Evann-Sin asked. He made no move to come into the room, though his eyes betrayed his need to take her into his arms.

  “I don’t know but be careful, warrior. One proclaims to be our ally, but I have my doubts,” she answered.

  “Stay here,” he ordered. “I’ll be back for you.”

  “Oh, no!” she disagreed and ran after him. Already he was down the corridor, his sword pointed upward, both hands gripping the pommel.

  “Don’t you ever listen?” he asked as he felt her hand on his shoulder blade.

  “Do you have a dagger?” she countered. Even as she asked, she reached for the weapon strapped to his thigh.

  Hekat came at him before Evann-Sin could thrust his sword into her leathery body. Enfolding him in her wings, she snapped at his face and neck, straining to sink her long fangs into his flesh. Though Tamara struck out at the bat-woman—stabbing her repeatedly in the back—the blade seemed to make no impression and with one flick of a heavy wing, Hekat sent the young woman reeling against the wall.