The War Queen

by Jane Merkley

  The hair pin in her hand still had life so she went to the second set of guards to work with it until – if – Jasper returned with the nail. It took her four tries and the cuff barely loosened enough for both men to slide their hands painfully through.

  “Jasper!” She looked at the fifth man who had the courtesy to shrug, relaying that he would understand if he was left behind. But Jasper appeared and took the hammer from her and went to work with the nail.

  The fifth guard and the stranger with him were freed and they all ran to the exit. The stranger remained, moving about the chamber as if looking for someone.

  “Please!” called a desperate voice as Altarn passed.

  Altarn skated to a halt. She had forgotten in her urgency to leave. “Jasper! Bring me the hammer!”

  Ahead, down the corridor, Jasper stopped. “Lady, we have to go!”

  “Bring me the hammer!”

  Jasper made disagreeing noises but brought the hammer and nail. They were absent their weapons so he thought to use the hammer as one if the need aroused.

  She hurried to the female and broke her and her male partner free. She took the hammer, cringing as cries followed her down the hallway for those who wanted to be free. She felt bad for all of them, sure they were there just as irrationally as her, but she couldn’t know for sure.

  They emptied into a small courtyard just inside the castle’s first curtain wall to find Lord Byrone and his three guards locked in combat with three Athenya soldiers. Taking advantage of the distraction, Jasper made a hard left toward the drawbridge, their feet pounding furiously and loudly on the wood.

  Footsteps echoed behind them and panic shot into her throat. She chanced to look behind to find Byrone and his men catching up; the Athenya soldiers unconscious on the ground beyond. To kill was not their goal, just escape. Athenya would need all their soldiers and guards in the ensuing war, and Byrone had had the good sense to see that too.

  But more soldiers fell in behind the escaping party, at least fifteen of them but Altarn didn’t have time to count, concentrating on catching up to Jasper who was much faster and gaining speed in his urgency to get away.

  They made it to the other side of the bridge, Jasper punching a sudden right with the intent to get lost between the closest buildings there. There was no guessing where their horses or weapons were.

  Byrone’s lead man darted left. Byrone threw a glance Altarn’s direction as she turned right and a bold idea entered his head.

  Sliding to a stop so he slipped and caught himself on his hands in the gravel, he switched direction and charged toward Altarn. Altarn heard footsteps behind her and turned just in time for Byrone to slam into her.

  “What are you doing?” She tried to get her arms between them, but Byrone spun her around so her back was to him. He covered her mouth with a hand toughed from the twisting hilt of a sword, and she felt something on her tongue.

  In an instant she knew what was happening. She screamed through his hand and threw her limbs in every direction to break free, watching the last of her guards vanish in a swirl of cloak down an alley.

  The small pill dissolved quickly on her tongue. Panic blurred her vision and blackness pulled at the edges. She tried to continue to struggle, but her movements quickly became sluggish, as if trying to move through water. Even without the disadvantage, Byrone was much stronger than her and one large arm was already dragging her backward.

  Her limbs finally yielded to the drug and they lost all strength just before she lost consciousness.

  Byrone lifted her over his shoulder and sprinted toward his guards who had a horse ready for him, having already mounted their own.

  Byrone swung on, pulling an unconscious Altarn in front of him to hold her steady. Kicking his horse into a sprint, they out ran the Athenya soldiers on foot.

  Gildeon’s Question

  A chunk of light fell down the stairs.

  “Priest Herten?” the voice was female and obviously brimming with relief, wonder, and excitement.

  “I am here, Miraha.” The old priest dismounted and moved toward the voice, keeping his hands in front of him to carry himself around the obstacles.

  “There are eleven stairs, Good Priest.”

  Herten shuffled forward until the toes of his sandals bumped against the bottom step. Then he ascended.

  “Priestess,” Jaryd called out to her. “What of us?”

  The priest had made it to a top, and the female priestess came down the steps just far enough to look at Jaryd.

  “Not yet,” she said, and ascended.

  “I’m not a baby sitter!” he hollered, but there was a thump and the light disappeared. He kicked the floor and growled, for once regretting that he was a single man with no children because now he was at everyone’s desperate disposal since he had no better reason not to be.

  “Jaryd?” Lorn’s head popped out of the blankets, one covering her head like a hood. “Are you still there?”

  “Yes,” he remarked flatly, taking a seat on his sacks of flour and rubbing his eyes.

  “Oh good,” she said quietly. “I feel warmer and see a little more clearly when you are close.”

  He grumbled. He shouldn’t have let her sleep against him, but he needed her to stop crying for his sanity. Then he frowned, feeling bad all over again about being the one that made her cry. “You are welcome.”

  She smiled at him. He knew in the dark because her white teeth stood out. She nestled back into her ocean of blankets.

  Miraha embraced the priest, frail beneath his heavy wool robes.

  “I was so worried…” she began, but he stopped her.

  “I think the important thing is who this army is and why they attacked Niesh.”

  “I think they want the girl in the undertemple,” she said, stepping reluctantly away from Herten. “She came in moments before the army charged, saying she had a piece of Huilian’s soul in her… just like in my insight!”

  “I see you’ve met Gildeon, also.”

  Miraha nodded, until she remembered Herten could not see. “Yes.”

  “Has he explained much to you?”

  “Answered every question we could think of. Except who he thought this army might be.”

  “I think I know now,” Gildeon spoke up from Herten’s elbow. “The longer I hear them outside and get a feel of their souls, and you say they want into the temple because of the girl downstairs who claims to have a piece of Huilian’s soul in her… I conclude that this army was generated by Huilian himself. He must have reclaimed the other four pieces and has launched an army to claim the last.”

  “Why an entire army? Wouldn’t a few suffice?” asked Juquan.

  “I’m certain he’s tried just a few, but it appears this girl fights his pull to take herself to him, since she’s managed to avoid him for sixteen years. And if she does things like hide in fortified temples where Huilian cannot enter, then he’d need an army to make sure she was secured.”

  “What kind of people would follow the commands of a fallen angel demanding to be worshiped as a god?”

  “The same people who worship me. Only the opposite. Huilian has obviously whispered some promises to them if they do as he asks and it appeals more to them then waiting for their treasures in Velmashyn.”

  “So if his army is outside,” began Sashaia, “might Huilian be with them, and would you be able to stop Huilian today?”

  “I might, if I knew where he was. I don’t sense him close by. And even if I did stop him today, you still have an army who has effectively claimed Niesh, if not half of Blindvar by now. And where is the army to chase them out?”

  “Some town people sought refuge here some hours ago. We let them out a passage that empties at the river. They told us they were going to Ruidenthall to seek protection from Lord Byrone because Lady Altarn could not be found.”

  “So then we need to bait this army to Ruidenthall with the lure of Huilian’s soul downstairs, where Ruidenthall is likely mounting up
to fight this army. But why not take the girl to a place of Ruidenthall’s choosing to give them an even better advantage? On their land? We will wait some time before we go to Ruidenthall to give them time to prepare for war, unless we are chased out of here before then. The army has realized these walls cannot be penetrated, and so hope to starve us out. If I am correct, we can wait until the perfect time to lead this army and Huilian to their end. This girl is the last soul not claimed by Huilian, and she is the key to stopping his immortal conquest…”

  Finally, light appeared on the stairs. “It is safe,” a female voice called down.

  Jaryd looked at Lorn who was awake but seemed far away. It was still disturbing but much better than her dark mumblings outside the temple he was sure even she did not understand.

  “Can you walk?” he asked.

  The girl stared at him and did not respond.

  Grumbling again, he went to her and scooped her into his arms as if she were a large rag doll. She clutched at his uniform shirt again as he carried her up the stairs. She was so light. She trembled gently and her skin was so cold.

  Jaryd followed the priestess. He was led to a very small room with a single bed, nightstand and chair, and a trunk shoved into one corner. He laid Lorn on the bed when he was indicated to do so.

  Lorn began to writhe and claw weakly at imaginary visions above her. Jaryd felt badly for her. The room was only big enough for the priestess which it housed but all seven of them felt inclined to cram themselves inside, watching Lorn with renewed fascination.

  “How do you know this girl?” Gildeon asked.

  Jaryd looked at the boy who had entered the undertemple from a passageway and who had also guessed his name. Jaryd was still shivering from it. The boy was dressed as an acolyte. Jaryd supposed the boy could be trusted.

  “I don’t exactly know her. I had detained her yesterday for trespassing but she escaped and I chased her where we ended up on the shores of the sea. She’s obviously mentally ill and I was taking her to the infirmary when she escaped me again and came here. At that time, the army arrived and we both came into the temple to avoid the obvious. I’ve been stuck in the undertemple with her ever since. Does that satisfy your question?”

  “You say she is mentally ill. Could you also entertain the possibility that a piece of Huilian’s soul is inside her?” The acolyte asked.

  Lorn spoke of Huilian, had likewise claimed a piece of his soul – whoever he really was – was inside of her. He had been in the undertemple with her this whole time, so the group before him must have gained this knowledge about this Huilian from another source. Had the church kept something a secret?

  “She does act not herself,” Jaryd admitted, trying not to make contact with the revered sisters who were pressing close to him. “As far as Huilian’s soul… she does act mental enough that it would be more believable if she thinks whatever is wrong with her is caused by the sick thoughts that plague her. She needs help. I can agree on that.”

  The acolyte paused. “How strong is your faith?”

  The random question spiked irritation through him. “I don’t know what I believe, but I do believe that is none of your business.”

  A cool hand touched his tense arm and, unbidden, he relaxed instantly. The black haired priestess was smiling at him, contradicting the roiling storm of confusion and fear in his chest.

  “This… boy here,” Jaryd noted how she hesitated calling him boy, “is the most important piece in fixing whatever is wrong with this girl. He,” she indicated the boy, “needs to know your faith before he can reveal himself. No one here will think any more or less of you dependent on your answer.”

  The priestess’s voice invited calm and Jaryd felt soothed and he spit out a response before he could stop himself. “I don’t believe in anything I can’t see.”

  “And what if you could see it?” A testing question burned behind the boy’s eyes.

  “Well, obviously I’d believe it, then.”

  “And what do you see in front of you, right now?”

  Jaryd eyed him skeptically.

  The boy chuckled. “You may call me Miren for now.”

  “And I am Miraha,” said the tall priestess with a hand pressed on her heart.

  The remaining two introduced themselves.

  “Will you help us, Jaryd? We are taking this girl to Ruidenthall and we could use a larger escort to take her.”

  “Us, as in, everyone in this room?” Jaryd looked at each of them. The three priestesses which he had no doubt could fight if they had to, a sixteen year old boy, and the priest whose grave was growing tired of following him around.

  Miraha nodded.

  Jaryd’s fellow rangers had likely cleared themselves out by now, along with the rest of the town. He wouldn’t even know where to look for them.

  Jaryd watched the girl twist and sweat upon the bed. His heart truly went out to her, even if he had briefly called himself a babysitter. It wasn’t so much only for Lorn that needed ferrying to safety, it was the priest he noticed now was blind.

  “I’ll go,” he said, and felt remarkably calmed. He was rewarded with smiles from everyone but the boy, who nodded.

  “Do you doubt you were chased into the temple by an army?” asked Gildeon.

  “I do not doubt,” Jaryd responded.

  “Lorn believes a piece of Huilian’s soul is inside of her, according to what the priestesses heard her scream when she came into the temple. And there is an army outside that wants entry. Could you believe that this army is influenced by Huilian to claim the remaining piece of his soul?”

  Jaryd thought a moment. He had heard the story of Gildeon falling to earth as was preached by the church. As far as he cared, that said that the god had fallen. He didn’t count on his wishes coming true on falling stars, either.

  “Who exactly is Huilian?”

  “Oh,” began Miraha with a hand to her forehead. “It is easy to forget others may not know when you already do.” And she explained her vision, verified by two priests.”

  Jaryd looked intently at her to measure the truth of the seeming absurdness, looked at them all, and it was clear that he was the only one in the room that still reserved hesitation.

  “So if Gildeon followed instead of fell, where is he?”

  The room tensed for a moment. Finally, Miren responded. “I imagine he has been discovered already and is simply waiting for the rest of us to do the same.”

  Jaryd narrowed his eyes on the boy. “To answer your question, then, I could believe that Huilian is influencing this army,” he said, for lack of anything else that made sense in light of obvious facts. There was something conflicting with this boy. He was very young but the command and conviction in his voice belayed any age he appeared.

  “Then, for the sake of this girl and this army that wants her, we will all believe it,” said Gildeon. “What we need to do is prevent Huilian from getting her because he can only reclaim his soul if she dies, and if he reclaims his soul, then he can proceed with forcing mortals to worship him. So, we need to make it to Greatmar where she will be safe.”

  “Then how do we stop Huilian?”

  Gildeon smiled. “You leave that to me. For now, we will rest a while, nourish ourselves for the journey, and wait.”

  Lethargy

  By the end of the fourth day, she finally understood that she was under the influence of a lethargic drug. It took her that long to realize it because the drug never left her lucid long enough between doses for her to understand that her strange dreams were not reality.

  She flexed her fingers and she recognized movement. She flexed her toes and the response was slower, but she could finally realize they were moving too. Her eyes wouldn’t open. She was certain they had been sewn shut. A gentle breeze ruffled her clothes to her left. She shuffled her body and the surface on which she laid was soft.

  A thundering in her heart told her she was in a bad situation and the instinct to fight or escape overwhelmed her. She could
n’t let them drug her again, whoever they were. Maybe they had forgotten? She couldn’t recall right away where she was or what she had been doing before she was drugged, but that was not important right now.

  The breeze came again and her instincts urged her to follow it, for wherever there was air, there was escape. She threw her right shoulder up to roll her over. The movement exhausted her. She found that bouncing and wiggling her hips little by little yielded better results in getting her closer to the breeze. But wasn’t she already in the breeze? She stopped, a little confused, but she did understand that moving was better than not moving. Maybe she could move far enough they wouldn’t find her again.

  She scooted slowly to the left and felt an edge appear under her. An ocean splashed in her skull and spilled out of her mouth in a drool she could not remember how to contain. The edge worried her. How far down did it go?

  While she was debating chancing it, the edge gave way and she slipped off. She wasn’t aware of the change in direction until her shoulder caught a small table and it crashed to the floor with her. Breaking glass shrilled in her ears and a cold liquid splashed on her head.

  She was worried that they had heard and she tried to move faster, throwing her hips to move her along, but her joints were welded together and her bones were filled with lead. Dizziness suddenly overwhelmed her and she vomited.

  New sounds entered her head, of feet thundering across the landscape and she panicked, hiding her face on the wet floor so they could not drug her again.

  Hands grasped her and she felt her body leaving the floor and was temporarily suspended before they laid her back on the soft surface she had started from.

  “N… n… nnnnoo!” she managed past a thick tongue. “N… n…”

  Her right arm was repositioned above her head and something was tied to it. She couldn’t figure out how to break free; her left arm was a tree branch and too heavy to investigate.