A Blink of an Eye

by Troy A Hill

  “She is alive,” Enid said. “She is a Lady of Penllyn, and of Britain.”

  “They call her undead.”

  Enid shook her head. “Mair is real, and a Lady of Penllyn. I won’t leave here without her. And now that we know something more of these Witch Hunters, perhaps we can form a plan. I just need to think…”

  Enid pulled her knees up, chains clinking in the damp air, and rested her chin on her knee. She stared at nothing. Talian was wise enough to leave her be. He leaned back against the wall.

  As for me, I couldn’t have interrupted her if I’d wanted to. My body just stood there as it waited for orders. Tears formed in my eyes. I was unable to wipe them away. Trapped in my body. A body controlled by the guild now. Only my thoughts were my own. Worse than when I had been captured before, forced to wear an oat sack over my head so I could see nothing. Greyback had been my eyes for me.

  Enid and Talian remained quiet. The lone tear drifted down my cheek and dripped from my chin. The oil lamp sputtered its last and darkness settled in our crypt.

  In the absolute silence and darkness, a thought wormed its way into my mind. Perhaps there was something I could do. I sent my mind out to search above me. I couldn’t use The Lady’s power. That was cut off from me by the damned silver torc. But I could use something else. Blood. Blood I had once licked from the palm of my hand, hours before during the fight with Fadog. And blood I had licked when I help an old wolf caught in a trap. Blood that had opened a link between my mind and…

  The sensation was weak when I found it, but I detected life above the catacombs. If we were at the abbey by Caer Penllyn, then there should be forest close by. I let my mind roam the forest above.

  Finally, I found what I needed. The mind of a wolf. It wasn’t Rocky or Mother, my old lupine friends, but it was a wolf, all the same. I smiled in my heart. Greyback’s blood was still a blessing to me still. I easily opened a link with the wolf’s mind and built an image of me when I helped Greyback. I pictured Rocky and Mother, and their new pack leader.

  “They are pack?” the wolf’s thought came back. Weak. Distant. The sensation filled me with relief and hope.

  “Yes, we ran together,” I sent.

  “We know that pack.”

  “Find them,” I begged him. “Take that pack to this place,” I sent an image of Caer Penllyn.

  “No,” I corrected myself. “First find this two leg, or this one.” I pictured Gwen, then Seren. “They will be at that place. Tell them I am trapped by two-legs. I wish to run again.”

  “We run now…”

  “Maria, follow me.”

  Lecerf’s whiney voice startled me. My mind twitched with surprise but my body just turned and walked down the corridor after him.

  The wolf’s mind had one more thought for me I left the chamber.

  “We shall run together.”

  36

  Another Trial

  Lecerf led me back into the large central chamber. On the floor lay a body I didn’t want to see.

  Osbert’s.

  His corpse lay on a dirt-encrusted blanket, probably the one he had been wrapped in for burial.

  “Kneel at its side and place your hand on its forehead.” My body did what was ordered. My mind recoiled, and not just at touching the corpse of a man I’d hated. I realised what was coming, and I wanted no part of it. My mind went cold. I wished then that a chill could run up my spine. But even that was denied me. Nor was refusal of the order a choice I could make.

  Lecerf pinched some soil off the blanket and sprinkled the grave dirt across both my hand and the swordmaster’s corpse. The dead man’s throat gaped open with the wound that had ended his life. The Witch Hunter murmured the words of the spell. Sickly green light spilled from my hand again then spread throughout the dead fighter’s body.

  Osbert’s eyes opened and stared straight ahead. They stared at nothing. Waiting.

  “Maria, stand up.” My body stood. “Go to the far end of the table, arm yourself with the sword there.” My body shifted and my hand reached out. Crap! Could I handle this if I didn’t have conscious control of my body? Both swords on the table were the shorter, heavier blades of the area, not the longer, thinner ones Emlyn and I preferred. My hand closed around the nearest one.

  Lecerf, holding his staff with the iron and silver guild symbol attached to its top, stepped to the corpse of the fighter I had killed once already. He tapped Osbert’s chest with the end of his staff.

  “You, arise and take the sword from the table.” The corpse rose. The wound in its neck made the body’s head unstable, but most of the muscles that held the head on were still intact. Dead Osbert laid its hand on the hilt of the other sword.

  “You,” Lecerf pointed at Osbert, “Attack and kill that woman.” His finger pointed to me.

  Osbert's corpse stepped towards me. I was still frozen. Another step. My body had no orders to move. Was Lecerf just playing with his prizes now? Entertaining himself with the death of the undead? Osbert’s arm raised the sword to a ready position. Another step. The corpse swung the sword towards my neck.

  “Maria, defend yourself.”

  My arm lifted my blade. I could control my movement! I parried a blow from Dead Osbert, then twisted toward Lecerf with the intention of sliding the blade into his chest.

  That was what I wanted to do. Instead I twisted a hair past Osbert’s sword and froze. The corpse that had been the Witcher’s sword master slid his blade in and pricked my shoulder. Not silver, but it hurt enough I shifted back to defending against him.

  Lecerf chuckled.

  “You cannot harm me,” he wheezed. “You can only follow my commands. I said defend yourself. I did not command you to attack. Soon, my pet. Soon, you will get that chance. But not against me.”

  I was back to a strong desire to scream. But all I could manage was to defend myself against Dead Osbert. He had said defend. Every time I tried to follow through with an attack on Osbert’s corpse, my body froze and I had to pull undead speed to catch Dead Osbert next attack.

  Our dance was slower than what Emlyn and I performed on the field. But Dead Osbert and I were evenly matched at this speed. I could sense that the sun was high overhead. I really wanted to slide my blade into someone. If not Lecerf, then Dead Osbert.

  Killing Osbert a second time seemed like a really good idea. But even that was denied me.

  Lecerf watched us move around the room. I stepped back, again and again, since I could only fight a defensive battle. Osbert’s corpse seemed to have normal human speed, but was using more advanced techniques than he had when he was alive. I recognized many of the meditations Emlyn and I had learned from Aemi. The Witch Hunter had been correct. Lecerf’s magic passed my skills and knowledge through to Dead-Osbert. The thought made my heart sink. Most of Penllyn’s fighters would be no match.

  “Enough. Both of you stop.” Our blades stopped a finger’s width apart from each other and we each lowered our weapons.

  “Maria, place the blade on the table, then return to where the girl is. Kill anyone other than myself who tries to free her.”

  I sensed the sun set a few hours later. I felt my undead abilities return to full strength. Little good that did me. The only way I could take action was with a direct order. Enid stirred when footsteps approached. She stifled a gasp as Pedr walked in with another lamp and two bowls of what smelled like porridge.

  “You… Pedr…”

  “Eat up, milady,” he said with a mock bow. “Consorting with witches will get you killed. This is your last meal.”

  “Witches? Do you not consort with witches? What do you call those who cast spells to make fighters invisible? So they can sneak into a caer during a celebration and kill their people?” Her voice was firm and commanding. “Why do you protect those who use spells to entrap others?” She nodded at me and the torc around my neck, “and threaten the lives of the innocent?”

  “You’re not innocent, milady. Neither is the blood-witch,” Pedr rep
lied. “All the lords and ladies on that hill know what she is.” Pedr rested a hand over his heart and raised his head. “And spells? I cast a spell to make you sleep. That’s why you’re here now. Our guild uses the power of our faith to make the world a better place. We protect the people from the likes of her. It is good that Disciple Lecerf struck down her witch consort at Nant Bywyd before we grabbed you and set the trap for this witch.”

  Enid gasped at that. I wasn’t able to share the information about Gwen, so she hadn’t known.

  “Disciple Lecerf says his control of this witch,” the traitor continued his lecture, “will allow him to perform even greater miracles.”

  “An army of the dead? Seriously, Pedr.” She struggled to her feet and looked him in the eye, though the chains still bolted her to the wall.

  “Control and Power,” Pedr went on, the muscles in his neck and jaw tightening. “That is what all men want.” He clenched his fists. “I wasn’t fortunate enough to have been born with lordly blood like you. But with the miracles of faith, your father and your husband shall bow before us.” His arms vibrated with a struggle not to strike her.

  Try to drag her, even a hair’s width, you creep, you traitor, I thought. I’d welcome the opportunity to fulfil the order to kill, if he struck her.

  “Tonight,” he sneered as he spat the words out, “you will meet your fate, and the first step for new lordship of three cantrefi will begin. I’ve already struck down one heir to a cantref. Tonight another will fall.” A sick, evil grin slid onto his face. He laughed as she pressed back into the wall.

  Crap! No luck. He didn’t touch her, nor her chains. And now I knew. He had killed Dewi. Probably stabbed him in the back during the initial undead attack at Nant Bywyd. Little good that knowledge did me now.

  Pedr chuckled, then spun and left. Enid stamped her foot, making her leg chains rattle.

  “Ooo! He makes me mad.” She sat back down and put her head between her hands. After a moment, she looked up at me.

  “Mair, I’m sorry,” she said. “If only I hadn’t let him kidnap me. But I didn’t know! He told me one of our people was injured, and I needed to help. If I’d thought for two seconds, I would have realized there was no way for him to be at Caer Penllyn without magic. When we got to where he was taking me, there was nothing but a bedroll made to look like a person slumped on the ground.” She shrugged and bit her lower lip. “I awoke here.”

  She stared at me for a moment. I couldn’t do anything for her, no matter how much I wanted to.

  Enid pushed the porridge away, towards Talian. “I’m not hungry,” she said as she pulled her legs to her chest and hugged her knees. Poor girl. I wished I was able to reach out and hold her as she cried. I wanted to tell her I would protect her and get us out of this mess. I wanted to let her know I had successfully contacted the wolves. But my body stood locked in place, waiting for orders from that damned Witch Hunter.

  Her sobbing quieted. Tears streaked her cheeks, and I knew a few rolled down my own face. I stood helpless, unable to do more than blink.

  Eventually Pedr and Lecerf returned with manacles.

  “Maria, bind the girl’s hands with one pair of irons.” I hated that voice, but I couldn’t stop my body. My hands reached out and took a pair of the irons from him. My body moved towards Enid. I hoped she’d cooperate so my body wouldn’t hurt her.

  With sorrow in her eyes, she raised her hands, and let my arms lock the device around her wrists. Unlike the leg irons, these were cuffs attached to each other with no length of chain in between. Her hands were now locked before her at the wrist. I tried to pour my concern and sorrow into my gaze, but the wizard directed me to step back.

  Pedr locked Talian’s wrists as well.

  “Maria, carry the girl and follow me.” My body again bent and my arms scooped her up, one arm under her knees and the other behind her back. She buried her face in my neck. Her warm breath rolled across my cold skin. I tried to be as gentle as I could. I didn’t want to harm her, or the babies she carried.

  “Oh, Mair, I am so sorry,” she whispered.

  How I wished I could do more than blink.

  37

  Manacles

  Lecerf led us on another corpse walk. I carried Enid while Pedr tugged Talian along behind me. Bechard and Bjørulf the lycanthrope were behind them. Instead of a vertical slit between the worlds, like the slit in Gwen’s trees, Lecerf’s grave walk brought us to an eerie staircase of solidified spirits leading out of the realm of souls.

  We exited the ghostly passage into the abbey’s graveyard. Starlight was our only light. The moon hadn’t risen yet. I recognised the spot where we had buried Rhys a few paces away. Only a few weeks ago, he had been killed by the very shifter now walking behind me.

  We passed through a side gate in the palisade and into a short valley. We walked perhaps half a mile to a hilltop. Suddenly, Lecerf disappeared from sight right before my eyes. My legs kept walking, and I passed through a magical veil. As suddenly as Lecerf had disappeared, he reappeared, along with four stout logs sunk into the earth in a shallow arc. The other Witch Hunter, Seeker Bechard, must have cast another of his enchantments to hide this portion of the hill and make it seem empty.

  The crescent of four logs faced Caer Penllyn. A large pile of brush and timber stood before them, a blaze in waiting. It would be a signal fire visible for miles—certainly plain to see from the caer, if and when the magical veil was dropped. And I had no doubt it would be. Whatever happened here, it was clearly meant to be a show put on especially for Caer Penllyn.

  But the final detail that had drawn Enid’s gasp was the sight of Ruadh, hanging in shiny manacles from a hook on one of the poles. His clothing was torn and bloody. His legs, too, were shackled. Silver rope, similar to what The Hunchback had tied me with, further bound his arms and legs together. The silver in the rope wouldn’t harm him, unless he tried to break the bonds. Then the silver would cut into his flesh. Wounds caused by silver were painful, and extremely slow to heal for shifters and children of night like me.

  “You’re sure the Abbot and the monks are imprisoned securely?” Bechard asked Bjørulf in the Norse language. I had spent a few decades in the area a century or so ago, and I remembered enough of their tongue to piece together the conversation.

  “I locked them in the cellars under the kitchen,” Bjørulf answered.

  As my body passed by Ruadh, he raised his head.

  “Mair?” was all he said. I could hear the anguish in his voice.

  “She’s under their control,” Enid whispered. “The torc…”

  The other werebear growled a warning at her. His face shifted into a snout with sharp fangs. Enid’s head and shoulders slumped. Ruadh wore a torc similar to mine. We were both trapped. He seemed to have more movement, but he’d be free and not tied to a pole if that torc hadn’t limited him somehow.

  The old Witch Hunter, carrying his black staff, stopped in front of the third pole.

  “Maria, secure the girl to this pole. Hang her wrist manacles on the hook and lock her leg chain to the ring below.”

  How I hated his voice. I wanted to clamp my hands to my ears, or scream to drown out the sound. But my body wasn’t my own, and my arms set Enid down on her feet, then took her forearms and raised them. She didn’t fight me.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered.

  I blinked three times. She found a thin smile for me. I concentrated and got my body to move slowly. This allowed me to keep her manacles as loose as possible. I tried to find any loopholes that let me help her as much as I could. Unfortunately, Lecerf’s words “secure her” were sufficient for my body to lock her in place.

  Pedr had marched Talian beyond me to the final pole and repeated the process with him. Both Talian and Enid stood with their wrists pulled above their head, and the shackles hooked above them. Their legs were locked to a ring at the bottom of each log.

  The moon had begun to peek above the horizon behind Caer Penllyn. Battl
e raged there again. Skeletal warriors massed at the gates and humans on horseback grouped behind them. We were too far away to make out more than that. Tears pricked my eyes at the sight of my friends under attack, and me unable to help them.

  “I will go stage the next move,” Lecerf told Bjørulf. “Remain here and guard these three.”

  The lycanthrope growled a deep laugh. He let his features shift towards his bearish form. His fingers grew long, tipped with menacing claws. I hoped Lecerf’s control through that torc under the shifter’s skin was enough to stop him from harming anyone here.

  “Maria, follow me.” That damn voice cut into my thoughts and made my legs walk along with the Witch Hunter.

  38

  Judgement

  Lecerf and I slipped out of the magical veil. After a few hundred paces, to my surprise, we walked into another. Sitting below the crest of the hill on the far side from Caer Penllyn, it would not have been visible from the caer, even without the magical concealment. Hidden inside the enchantment were about a hundred men gathered around small campfires.

  Behind them stood a mob of silent warriors. Most were skeletal, ancient fighters. Some Roman, others Britons, but from the weapons and shields they carried, I figured they’d be from the time of Buddug, centuries ago. Evidently raising an army of ancient skeletons meant ancient, rusty weapons to match them. They were perhaps three or four hundred strong.

  Lecerf walked to the corpse of Osbert, which held the two swords we had duelled with earlier. Evidently the old wizard had been busy in the hours I spent with Enid and Talian. He had gotten Osbert out here on this hill, and assembled a few hundred animate corpses with with weapons.

  “You,” Lecerf touched the lifeless corpse’s head with his dark staff. I thought a spark jumped from the metal of the Witch Hunters Guild sigil to Osbert’s pale, dead forehead.