by D A Godwin
Birion rode close. “They aren’t taking the bait. We cannot remain so exposed for much longer.”
“Perhaps they cannot see us,” Shalindra replied. “I could…”
There were shouts of alarm, and Ceringion cavalry came charging in unexpectedly from the right. Birion ordered a quick response. A section of the lines pivoted, but they did not have enough men to reestablish control. The right of the Kingdom lines began to buckle, and suddenly there was fighting all around them as the Kingdom soldiers were forced into an ever-smaller circle.
Tormjere drew his sword and moved his horse in front of her as the fighting reached them.
A Kingdom soldier died beneath a Ceringion mace beside her. She dropped the reins and drew Shining Moon as his opponent turned towards her, but her arm was jerked backward as someone grabbed the hammer. As the Ceringion’s hand closed about the shaft, he screamed in pain and fell to his knees, clutching his arm that was now withered and blackened.
That’s interesting.
Shalindra brought the hammer down and ended his torment. It is horrid.
Those who saw are frightened of you. Do something else with it.
The hammer was already warm in her hands, as if responding to his words. It wanted her to do something. But what? Her eye caught on an engraving of two hands wrapped about the shaft.
She gripped Shining Moon in the same manner, unsure of what to ask Eluria for but certain in the need. There were so many Ceringions facing them. They needed a way forward through them, or fewer enemies in front of… Silver energy exploded from the hammer, spinning in an arc around her. Ceringion soldiers screamed as they were cut down like wheat before the scythe, while their Kingdom opponents froze in surprise.
Eluria, what have I done?
Her stomach churned at the sight of the severed bodies at her feet. Dozens lay dead, while those behind them stared at her in horror.
Do it again and they will break.
I will not.
At least threaten.
She raised the hammer, and the Ceringions that could see her broke and ran. Tormjere sounded more excited than she had ever heard him.
There! I see a wizard!
She tore her eyes away from the bodies at her feet and looked where he did. A small group of knights rode swiftly towards the conflict, accompanied by the dark-haired wizard.
Tormjere turned and signaled to Birion.
The wizard dismounted as he drew near and grasped a talisman in his hands, his lips moving as he incanted. A swirl of purple-black mist manifested before him and a tall, thin demon emerged. It could have almost passed for an overly-tall man were it not for the hairless, mottled green-grey skin and six orange eyes. The face that surrounded them was flat and lacking a nose, while its mouth was disproportionately large and filled with needle-like teeth.
I can hold it. Get the wizard and let us be done with this.
Birion’s command formed up around Tormjere.
“Straight through!” Birion shouted. It was not what they had planned, but it proved effective. The horsemen charged forward in a wedge, plowing their way through the Ceringions with brute force.
Tormjere kept low in his saddle as he rode with them. When a gap appeared ahead of him, he kicked the horse hard and shot through the opening. With nothing but open ground between him and the wizard, Tormjere slid from his horse and ran at the sorcerer.
The wizard saw him coming and began to gesture mightily, causing the dirt of the ground to rise like a snake. Thick enough to strangle a horse, it coiled about itself then struck at Tormjere.
Tormjere’s sword sliced through the serpent as if was made of air, hacking off the head. The severed section exploded in a cloud of dust, then reformed and snapped at him again, narrowly missing as he dove away. Its tail lashed around his leg, but he sliced into it and squirmed free.
It is retreating towards you, though we have not damaged it.
The dirt snake collapsed in a sudden shower of dust and dirt as the wizard grasped the talisman hanging from his neck and focused on the advancing demon.
I think he’s losing control.
Hurry then.
Tormjere closed the distance between them. The wizard’s free hand came up with fingers outstretched, and a shimmering, translucent barrier that reflected the sun snapped into place between them.
Tormjere drove his sword at it, expecting it to resist as Shalindra’s did. Instead, both he and the blade flew through the barrier as if it was no more than a spiderweb along a trail. Caught off guard and unable to stop, his momentum sent his blade plunging through the wizard’s stomach.
The wizard gripped Tormjere by the shoulders. “How?” was the only word that escaped his lips before he died.
Tormjere cursed as the body slid off his blade. He felt something change in the tempo of the battle raging at his back an instant before hearing Shalindra’s warning.
The demon is coming for you.
Tormjere yanked the talisman from the wizard’s fingers. The device was exquisitely crafted for something so small, resembling a cylindrical cage with rounded top and bottom. Barely contained swirls of purple and black energies twisted and strained against the tiny bars.
The slender demon came to a sudden stop not five paces away. Its greyish skin tightened around all of its orange eyes, conveying hatred in a way no human face ever could.
Something dark pressed against Tormjere’s mind, toying with his consciousness and measuring his strength. Memories of being commanded overlapped his vision, and he shook his head to clear them. Was what he held in his hand key to controlling them?
“Attack them!” Tormjere commanded, pointing at the Ceringions.
The demon’s mouth twisted into a sneer. The darkness in Tormjere’s mind hardened and pressed almost painfully against him.
Tormjere raised his sword. “Begone then, or suffer your master’s fate.”
With a sarcastic dip of its head, the demon disappeared into a swirl of purple-black mist that suddenly enveloped it.
The talisman grow hot in his hand, as would a rope when pulled through a tight grip.
A cheer went up from the Kingdom forces, but the fighting was far from over.
He was suddenly surrounded by Kingdom knights on horseback. Birion took one look at the wizard’s body and wheeled his mount around.
“We must get back before we are cut off!” he shouted.
Listen to him. Their army is on the move.
One of the knights rushed a free mount forward. As Tormjere took the reins in hand a sparkle of colored light caught his eye. He snatched a golden, multifaceted ball set with jewels from the ground.
Birion’s foot propelled him unceremoniously away from the wizard’s body, and he scrambled into the saddle. He spurred the horse to a gallop, racing away from the battle. Ahead of him he could see Shalindra already charging for the wall, surrounded by a dozen knights.
Behind them, the infantry began disengaging, falling back in stages towards Edward’s defensive line. The Ceringions followed only a short distance, then broke off pursuit before coming within bowshot of the city walls.
Tormjere caught up to Shalindra just inside the city gate. His horse reared, and he slid ungracefully from it, certain that the animal was as glad to be rid of him as he was of it.
“What happened?” Shalindra asked.
He shook his head, frustrated with himself. “I don’t know. He had a shield of some sort around him, and I expected—”
Birion came clattering to a stop beside them, clearly unhappy.
“You realize that people have difficulty divulging information when stabbed through the belly?”
Tormjere gave him a black look, but it didn’t help.
“Hobbes?” Birion called over his shoulder.
“Yes, sir,” the knight answered with a grin, obviously aware of what was coming.
“What parts of a sword are to be used to subdue an opponent?”
“The pommel or guard, sir.”<
br />
“And what should you absolutely not do if you wish your opponent to stay alive long enough to be interrogated?”
“Run him through with the pointy end, sir?”
Birion glared at Tormjere. “If you need help telling the sharp bits from the dull, just ask. I’m going to wash up.”
The knights on their horses cantered towards the stables in orderly rows, many snickering as they passed.
“You’re lucky,” said one, “I was cleaning stalls for a month last time I mucked it up that bad.”
Tormjere shared a glance with Shalindra, who just shrugged.
“Do you think it useful?” she asked, already knowing what he possessed.
He produced the talisman. “Most definitely. It almost feels like—”
“Sister Shalindra,” Enna called as she rushed to them. “Are you well?”
“I am.”
Enna’s shoulders relaxed. “I watched the battle from… What is that?”
“This was what he used to summon the demon,” Tormjere said, holding the cage-like talisman up for her to see. The dark swirls inside expressed their displeasure with the examination by pulsing angrily.
“It seems a foul sort of magic,” Enna said.
Shalindra shuddered. “That thing has only one purpose, and even without its master I do not trust it.”
“I don’t either,” he agreed. “Since we’ve no wizard to ask now, would Kayala know anything?”
“I can think of no one else who might.”
The thoroughfare running from the west gate to the castle bisected the western half of the city and passed directly in front of the temple. The road was as full of people as any other, but once on it the trio took little time in reaching the temple.
As soon as they stepped into the gardens Shalindra felt a chill work its way up her back, and her symbol burned against her skin.
They weren’t halfway to the temple before Kayala and a slightly older woman who could only be Sister Adira burst from the front doors and rushed towards them. So similar were their worried expressions that they could have been sisters in more than name alone.
“What have you brought!” Adira demanded.
Tormjere exchanged glances with Shalindra and held out the wizard’s talisman.
Kayala recoiled as if he had presented her with a deadly serpent.
“We took it from—”
“It reeks of death and torment,” Adira said. “Foul no more of Her temple with it. Take it from this place and destroy it!”
“Outside the wall would be best,” Kayala said with surprising firmness. “Now. I will assist you. Hide it from sight and speak to no one.”
We went through all of that and she wants to destroy it?
We know what the wizards use it for, and there is no one here who would attempt such a thing.
What if there was more to be gained by studying it?
How much more would be lost should it allow demons access to this place? We do not need it.
Tormjere fell into line reluctantly. They took the shortest path from the city, following Kayala in silence to the north gate and into the field between the wall and Edward’s encamped forces.
“Place it on the rock there,” Kayala said. “Enna, have you performed an ethereal warding?”
“No, Sister, though I have studied them.”
“An augmentation then?”
“Those I am proficient with.”
“Take note of what I do, and add your will to mine.” Kayala’s eyes found Shalindra’s. “Prepare Her weapon, and on my command, strike as hard as She will allow.”
They waited in tense silence as Kayala walked in a circle, speaking of the moon and the passing of seasons. Each circuit added another layer to the thin lines of silvery light encircling the talisman.
“Now,” Kayala said, coming to a stop.
“By your light, Mistress,” Shalindra whispered, then swung the hammer down. It accelerated, streaking into the talisman with a blinding flash of light. A shriek of pent-up hatred shattered the quiet of the evening. Tendrils of darkness whipped out, striking against the silvery circles of Kayala’s wards. The older cleric winced and clutched at her temples.
Darkness lashed at Shalindra, drenching her in its fury like the wind before a storm, as terrifying as it was impotent. When her vision cleared she saw Tormjere with his sword in hand, still staring at the dissipating mist that swirled around the shattered talisman. Soldiers from the camp were running towards them, but she held up a hand to stop them.
The once shimmering wards that had contained the talisman’s fury were scorched and dim. Kayala waved her hand, and they flickered away. She teetered on her feet, then was caught by Enna as she collapsed to her knees.
* * *
Shalindra sought the sanctuary of the gardens that evening, needing to be alone with her thoughts. There was a secluded place that she had found on her first night here, a small alcove formed by tall bushes that hid the neighboring rooftops. Tucked away against the outer wall, it had a statue of Eluria holding aloft the moon while Her followers poured water from urns into a small pool at Her feet. It was more a sanctuary to her than the white marbled purity of the temple.
She set Shining Moon on the stones beside the pool and knelt before the statue. The crescent moon was still rising in a sky filled with stars, bathing the glade in a soft light.
Followers of Eluria were healers, yet she had prayed for something different today: the strength to kill. And, as with every other prayer she had offered, Eluria had answered. It was all so wrong.
A small intake of breath told her she was no longer alone.
“Forgive me, Sister,” Enna said, “I did not mean to disturb you. I’ll return later.”
“Please, stay. I hold no rights to this place, nor would I exclude anyone if I did.”
Enna came close and knelt beside her. Her hair, pure white in the sun, sparkled silver in the moonlight.
“I thought everyone was inside,” Enna said.
“I find the simplicity of this setting suits my nature. Do not tell Tormjere, but I miss the trees.”
Enna laughed, a soft sound that blended perfectly with the bubbling water. “I share that sentiment as well. Structures in our cities are spread apart and have less stone and more green.”
Her eyes drifted over the hammer, which lay on the ground in front of Shalindra. “It is beautiful.”
“And deadly. Today, I…”
“I saw. I was watching from the wall, in case you needed help again.”
Shalindra’s shoulders slumped. “I came here in hopes of finding answers, but I am afraid that I have discovered only more questions. When I was a child, a Sister of Eluria came to the castle to heal my older brother’s arm after he broke it during a tourney. I could scarcely believe that something so wonderful was possible. I never forgot it, and I promised that someday I would be able to do the same. I have done that now, many times over. I have mended bones, saved countless men from death, restored a shattered child.” She hung her head. “And today, I took enough lives to erase every bit of good I have done.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself,” Enna protested.
“Shining Moon frightens me. I fear what I might become by using it, as I fear what this war is doing to those I care for.”
“I have learned much about the Guardians and their abilities. I do not claim to be an authority, but Shining Moon was given to us by Eluria. The power that resides within it comes from the goddess Herself, and She would never allow its use for any purpose of which she did not approve.”
Shalindra looked at her. “Has She ever spoken to you?”
“Our Mistress speaks to all her Sisters.”
“But, has She asked you to do things?”
Enna’s pale face went somehow paler. “No.”
“I hesitate to speak of it again with Sister Kayala. She is already upset at the use to which I have employed Shining Moon, and this would further unsettle her.”
<
br /> “But, did she not present you with Her weapon?”
Shalindra closed her eyes. “Not by choice. We were speaking in her tent, and… we saw it. She did not mean for us to, but when I held it… There are so many things that have happened that I do not understand.”
She felt Enna’s hand cover her own.
“I understand your struggle. Elves have a different perspective on our Mistress, but I will help you seek Her aid, should you wish it.”
“I would welcome having someone to talk to.”
Enna looked puzzled. “What of Tormjere? You are so close.”
Shalindra wondered if he could hear her thoughts now. “I trust him completely. He has taught me so much, about so many things, but there are some questions even he cannot answer.”
She stifled a yawn. “I should sleep. Thank you for talking to me this evening,” she said as she stood.
Enna smiled up at her. “Thank you as well.”
Shalindra found Tormjere waiting patiently for her at the end of the path.
“Did She answer?” he asked.
Shalindra frowned at him. “You cannot speak directly to a goddess. You may only ask and wait for Her instruction.”
“You learned a new trick today.”
Her gaze dropped. “Tricks are what fools use to entertain children. I slaughtered dozens at one stroke, and I do not even know how I did it.”
“It needed to be done, and probably saved our lives. Would you rather watch them cut down your friends one by one?”
“No, but that does not make it any less frightful. How did you know it could be done?”
“I didn’t, it just seemed likely. Weapons such as the one you carry, they always have special powers, don’t they?”
“So it would seem, but it is one that I shall never use again.”
Of Prophecies and Portents
The room was cool and quiet, tucked away in the back of the temple. Every surface was as clean and white as befitted its purity and purpose. A small reflecting pool stretched out beneath a woman-sized statue of a youthful Eluria. Soft light shone from recessed wall sconces, pure in color and lacking the crude flicker of torchlight.