by H. A. Harvey
“Sure ya don’ have a confession, missy? Ya could join tha fun.” Karen felt she might vomit as Dawn whimpered pitifully. “Aw, I guess not.”
“That’ll be enough, Ceril.” The old man growled, “Grab tha blushin’ bride an’ stop handlin’ the merchandise.”
The guard laughed and kissed Dawn’s shoulder, evoking a shudder from the girl, before he turned and seized Adrienne’s chain. As Addy was hauled from the wagon and the cage banged shut, Karen met her gaze wordlessly. She silently willed any strength she had to her friend. Still crouched next to Dawn by the railing, Kelly quietly reached over and gave the girl’s hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Well,” Karen heard the old man’s voice a moment later, “Looks like ya healed well, but there are still marks. This belly’s had a guest before I’d wager. What about you sweetheart? Let’s see if your friend here was telling the truth.”
“Right, looks like we have two winners.” Ceril’s hateful voice answered.
“Tha jilted wife’s prolly a mite cleaner’n the whore. You lads ken take tha young’un.” Karen heard Adrienne yelp slightly, “As long as we don’ get tha impression either o’ ya didn’t have yer hearts in this . . . we’ll get ya a horse blanket or two.”
The sound of the girls being shoved into the straw on the stable floor came next. Kelly and Dawn retreated from the raised side of the wagon and huddled by Bridgette. All three girls stopped their ears. Karen wanted to as well, but she felt someone should listen, be with them at least in spirit.
“What do you think you are doing?” The pointed question was carried by a soft female voice, drifting from beyond the front of the wagon. Karen heard a brief rustle around the barn. She lifted herself to sit and peer over the edge of the wagon’s side, tapping Bridgette on the arm to get her attention.
The old slaver stood over Adrienne, his belt hanging unbuckled but thankfully little else disturbed. Over by Rita, the four guards were in various states of undress, Ceril being furthest along with his cloak and shirt cast aside. All of them had turned to confront the new voice, drawing Karen’s eye to the open entrance to the stable.
Standing in the doorway was a beautiful Falon girl. Though she was slightly taller than any of the men present, her features looked closer to Kelly’s age than anyone else. The girl wore a long, dark blue dress of fine satin that complimented the snowy white plumage on her wings and head perfectly. The girl’s left wing was bound tightly to her torso by a broad strip of linen wound around her several times. Guards wearing Baedite livery stood behind her on either side.
“I shall ask again,” She repeated in a soft, even voice that somehow still carried the force of command, “What do you think you are doing?”
“Whatever I please with my property.” The old man barked back, “Who in tha name o’ Ruin are you?”
“Yer problem now is who she is.” One of the soldiers answered, “Captain said to put her in yer care t’ deliver t’ Kadis. If there be a prollem wit’ that, we’re t’ seize yer wagon and drive it on ourselfs.”
The old man’s eyes went wide and his face twisted in anger, but he stifled himself and nodded. “Well, then miss important can watch with the rest of ‘em.”
“I shall watch you return those women to the wagon and fetch them some proper clothing.” The Falon replied in the same level tone.
The slaver growled and started towards the Falon girl, unhitching the lash from his belt as he did so, “I’ll teach that tongue to keep quiet!”
Karen saw the soldiers’ hands go to the hilts of their swords as the girl stepped defiantly forward, “I invite your worst if you dare.” Her calm voice was almost unbearable in the intensity of the situation. “I’m no common prisoner of war, but Lady Ourei of Deepwood, a hostage of Baron Urdan. The soldier who broke my wing was left to bleed out in the woods with his own commander’s dagger in his stomach.”
The slaver halted mid stride and his gaze shifted to the soldiers, who both nodded in confirmation. He sneered, “I can deal with your sort. You’re so worried about these slaves, I’ll trade their pain for yours.” He turned back to Adrienne and hauled back on his lash, but Ourei’s retort gave him pause again.
“Do what you will, but any mark on their flesh will be met by me stumbling into something hard.” Her even tone gave no indication of a bluff. “In fact, their bare flesh is so offensive, I feel I might faint at any moment into one of these farming tools.”
The man turned beet red and puffed up so much that Karen thought he might burst. Finally, he started breathing again and nodded with a growl. “Alright. Boys, cut open six of those grain sacks and toss them in the cage.”
“No,” Ourei interrupted again, reaching to her waist with the arm not bound under her wing to remove a fine silver chain and hold it out to one of the soldiers. “Get them proper clothes, wool. And a blanket as well.”
The soldier took the chain and gave a short bow before leaving out the door. The slaver’s guards stared at each other in befuddlement for several moments. Eventually, one walked over and lifted Adrienne to her feet by the arm, walking her to climb back into the cage. Another helped Rita up and walked her to the back of the cage while the last two guards busied themselves getting dressed.
“Wait!” Ceril called out, rushing over to the girls and grabbing Rita by the arm. “My brooch pin is missing from my cloak.”
The angry guard groped Rita cruelly despite Ourei’s protests. He pinched her cheeks together, forcing her mouth open and rummaged about with his fingers deep enough that she gagged. Ceril reached to grasp the back of her neck and recoiled briefly with a cry. He then ran his fingers in the back of Rita’s hair and yanked the pin from her locks. Ceril moved to strike the girl, but stopped as Ourei shuffled toward a pitchfork leaning against a stable door. The guard glowered at the Falon, but lowered his fist and shoved Rita into the cage. He frisked Adrienne in the same manner, removing a nail from under her tongue before pushing her in as well.
“Sorry.” Rita muttered miserably as the girls all helped her and Adrienne sit upright.
The girls sat in silence afterward, wallowing in the failure of their plan. Karen couldn’t help but be glad that it hadn’t gone further. Lady Ourei stood silently waiting until the soldier returned with a large bundle of clothes wrapped in a blanket. She followed him as though supervising as he placed the bundle in the cage, then nodded and climbed quietly in after it. The soldier cleared his throat softly. When Ourei turned to face him, he held a scrap of leather and a charcoal pencil through the bars.
“Lady Ourei,” The soldier said as respectfully as he could manage, looking back at his companion, “We hoped you might send word with us that you arrived safely . . . to assure our captain.”
“Of course, Mister Stonetower.” Ourei nodded with a soft smile. She took the scrap and scribbled a short, neatly lettered note before handing it back. “I wish you to know it was nothing personal. As you are the enemy, it is my duty to make things as difficult as possible for you. All things considered, you two have behaved like absolute gentlemen.”
The soldier gave a half-hearted smile, bowed, and joined his cohort at the door.
“The baron’s vizier will pay thirty pieces of gold if she is delivered unharmed to the castle.” He instructed the slaver, then both soldiers turned and walked out of the stable quickly.
“But what if anything should happen?” The old man called nervously after them.
The answer drifted back through the dark, “Don’t let it.”
Inside the wagon, Ourei unfolded the blanket and began passing each girl a woolen dress. She made her way to the front of the wagon and turned back to face them. As she unwound the cloth wrapped around her torso, she nodded to Kelly with a smile.
“Girl, you look to have gentle hands.” Ourei’s haunting voice kept the same level tone, but had a gracious note it had not contained when addressing the slaver. “W
ould you be so kind as to help me unfold my wing? I cannot sit like this, and will not be able to stand the whole way.”
Kelly looked at the other girls timidly before nodding and rising to help. She gently lifted the Falon’s feathered limb as it stretched and spread along the length of the wagon. Ourei winced and sucked sharp breaths in obvious pain, but nodded at Kelly to keep going. Karen watched in rapt attention, as did the other girls. However, her mind was less on her first encounter with nobility, and more upon the girl’s radiantly white plumage. It made her think back to when she first woke in the wagon and the strange white bird that had pestered her into leaving the trail of vines.
Ourei finally had her wing opened as far as the wagon would allow, though it still looked like it could stand to unfurl farther. The girl looked almost incredibly slight with her wings unfurled, each great, feathered limb easily equaling the bulk of her body. She stretched her healthy wing along the other side of the wagon and sat down. The girls’ dreary prison was nearly transformed into a luxurious, feather-lined carriage.
“Have we met?” Karen asked tentatively.
“I do not believe so.” Ourei answered, but Karen’s attention was diverted as Adrienne tugged at the sleeve of her dress. Karen looked over at her friend who still sat on the floor. She bent her legs to sit cross-legged and started to dig at the inside of her foot and wince. At length, she held up a bloody horseshoe nail with a grin. The girls all stifled a gasp and Kelly snatched the small nail.
“This is gonna take a while.” Kelly whispered, then looked nervously at Ourei.
“Do not mind me,” Karen heard, or more accurately thought, words in her mind. It was close to when she debated something in her head, but she could somehow tell the words were not her own. She could tell from their expressions that the other girls had felt the voice too. “As I have already said, it is my duty to hinder the enemy. Hide that for now. The fat man will go enjoy a soft bed soon enough. Best you let whoever knows locks get some sleep now and work in the small hours of the night, or when the wagon is in motion.”
“W-who are you?” Karen asked. “And how do you do that?”
“My name is Ourei.” The girl answered, “But I am fairly certain you already heard that. I have some small measure of Talent. Though I barely qualify as a student, I have picked up a few basic staples from my mentor. Your accents are Tyrian. Might I have a name to call each of you ladies?”
The young women each introduced themselves by name. Most did some manner of awkward, seated curtsey or bow, eliciting a bemused, and courteously masked smile from Ourei. When the names finally made it around to Karen, Ourei’s expression lost its mirth. Karen thought at first it was because she didn’t make some sort of gesture.
“Karen?” Ourei blinked at her, “From Longmyst?”
Karen blinked, “Yes, why?”
“Your brother is coming for you.”
12
Eyes in the Dark
Rowan winced and shifted to sit higher against the trunk of the old elm tree. He gazed steadily into the night woods. His vision was getting blurry, so he couldn’t keep a good count any longer, but he was sure there were more pairs of eyes. The scores of eyes floated about in the dark woods, making it almost seem as though, at some point, the stars in the sky took on a reddish hue and the horizon flowed down to the ground around them. The effect was claustrophobic, as though all of Creation was reduced to the small circle of earth around their hill and beyond was nothing but the vast, empty sky. It was a sky filled with dim, red stars that burned with malevolent hatred at the few inhabitants of their small, domed world for some unknown offense.
“Ro?” David gently shook Rowan’s shoulder. A concerned expression shadowed his face and he felt the Desaid’s forehead. “By the Twelve, Ro! You’re burning up! We need to treat that leg.”
“No, you need me up. I see better at night than you,” Rowan lied. Normally, it’d be true, but his vision was so blurred it might as well be darkness alone fouling his sight, “and with so many out there, even the two of us might not be able to do much, but alone you’d have no chance. Our only medicine will put me out, and with them out there, we can’t gather anything else.”
“You’re not even speaking straight, Ro. Let me look at that leg.” David reached for Rowan’s dressing, but the he swatted the man’s hand away from it. David glowered at him. “Sszabve fromth dos, Ro, rut jou orunt devung re mach dice.”
Rowan shook his head in confusion. When he looked at David again, the man’s face was blurry, like it was under water. He didn’t even see the attack coming. Something cold and hard struck the side of his head, then the world spun for an instant before vanishing into shadow.
. . .
Kelly looked tired. She blinked to clear water from her eyes and returned to fidgeting with Bridgette’s right shackle. Karen watched the girl work in silence. Her dainty little fingers were raw and swollen, but she kept working the small nail diligently in the lock hole. She had been working tirelessly through the night and all morning. She would pause when Adrienne shifted positions, their signal that one of the guards was coming into view behind the wagon, and resume the moment he passed out of sight. Kelly gave a small squeal of delight as Karen heard the lock click open. Karen found herself grateful the girl had such a small voice.
“That’s it.” Kelly whispered, opening the shackles just broad enough that Bridgette could flatten her hands and slip out before clicking the clock closed again. “Just the door left, and we’ll have to do that when we go. Only problem is, I think the lock’s too heavy to use this.”
“I can get you something bigger,” Ourei’s thoughts drifted to them. “But it will have to wait until it’s closer to time.”
Karen and the others shared glances and nodded. Karen took Kelly’s head and shoulders into her lap and stroked her hair gently. The girl was too exhausted to object if she had wanted to, and was quickly breathing softly in a gentle slumber. Karen looked at Ourei and thought of asking her to come with them.
“I cannot, but thank you for thinking of me.” Ourei’s thoughts conveyed a genuine sense of gratitude, “But for several reasons, I must stay.”
It was still taking some getting used to Ourei’s little trick. It seemed she could not only speak to others through her mind, but pick up surface thoughts. She claimed not to be able to go deeper, and Karen chose to believe her. Ourei also said it was more difficult. People had to be close, and unless the thoughts were directed at her, they were often jumbled and incomplete. She also could easily miss part of a thought, so Adrienne had suggested they meet her gaze before trying to form a direct thought, and that seemed to work.
Still, between her piecemeal information from stolen surface thoughts, and uncannily keen senses of sight and hearing, there was little that she didn’t seem to know. Ourei had slept through the night, but had been ‘chatty’ since dawn. She’d instructed them that, after their escape, they should head Spireward, instead of trying to traverse several days’ travel back across Baeden. She said they were only hours from the trees of Noorwood, where they would find mutual enemies of the Baedites. Ourei had also told them to relay information to the people there. She claimed to have overheard the captain of her former captors, who had the habit of softly reading out loud. A messenger kyte had brought word of Tyrian raiders reinforced by rebel slaves was moving their direction.
Karen had thought the idea of kytes used as messengers was ridiculous. However, apparently, if the tiny drakes could be hatched in seclusion from their flights, they could be trained to carry missives faster, more securely, and with greater intelligence than any bird. Ourei claimed some could even be taught to parrot mortal speech, repeating memorized phrases in response to the right command.
Hardest to accept had been Ourei’s news of Nian. The idea of her timid brother charging across the countryside at the head of a mercenary band was utterly ridiculous. More so tha
t Ourei claimed he was somehow chosen to come after her by the Incarnates. Karen looked at Ourei and wondered why rescuing her was so important.
“I think it is important to Nian.” Ourei’s response came softly, “I believe Lady Kadia is trading Hope for you as payment for Nian’s services. So that makes it important to her.”
“It still doesn’t make any sense,” Karen muttered aloud, more out of habit than conscious decision. “What would you recruit a quiet tavern boy for?”
“The Incarnates are tied more closely to Creation than anyone in existence. They can often sense changes coming long before even the most magical of wild beasts. I believe they can tell things about people that they don’t even know themselves. Kadia’s power is greatest where her influence is least expected. It is no small surprise that She chose an Emissary from whom nothing was expected, but in whom she saw something greater. When I met your brother, something was already stirring in him. He had a presence about him.” Ourei smiled to herself and her thoughts took on a warmth as she continued. “It was almost impossible not to like him. His passion was contagious, like his goals became your own.”
Karen sat back against the soft feathers of Ourei’s healthy wing. She wished that she had been more interested in stories of the Incarnates. Kadia was the Maiden of Hope. She knew that much, so tried to think of what possible purpose a being of such power would want with Nian; her baby brother whose only real interest seemed to be collecting stories. He had no sense of adventure, nor any particular drive to do anything or even leave his sleepy home town. His sole noteworthy skill was the ability to turn the surliest of strangers into an amicable friend in the time it took to drain a flagon of mead. Suddenly, Karen paused and looked at Ourei, hoping she was wrong.