Raven's Hand

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Raven's Hand Page 7

by James Somers


  “You will hold on to the sword while it is being blessed,” she said.

  It was not a request, but her expectation. He couldn’t refuse. Otherwise, he might have risked her displeasure and the blessing upon the weapon his father had sent. However, this was highly unorthodox. Still, Killian decided he would trust the priestess. After all, he had absolutely no reason not to trust her.

  Her eyes grew fierce, as she began to recite a liturgy taken directly from the Scrolls of Eliam. The wind around them picked up, becoming a gale in seconds. A massive purple thunderhead generated above the temple courtyard.

  Esmeralda whinnied in agitation and backed away from Killian. He felt the fear rolling off the animal in waves. That same fear was steadily creeping up his spine. He would have liked very much to retreat with her. However, Killian was no coward. He remained fastened to the spot with the sword held tightly in his hands.

  Thunder rolled above them, answering a multitude of lightning flashes that illuminated the darkening sky. Killian had never seen a storm come up so fast. Yet, he knew this must be the work of Eliam and not simply some freak episode of weather.

  “Hold the sword aloft in your right hand!” Shalindra cried, breaking out of her recitation.

  Killian sucked in a deep breath, having no idea what would happen next but sensing that a climax of sorts was underway. He released the blade with his left hand and thrust the sword skyward with his right. The lightning flashed in response, as though it had been seeking a metal object to strike.

  “Do not be afraid!” Shalindra called over the din of wind and thunder. “Say these words and receive Eliam’s blessing!”

  Though he was trembling, buffeted by the wind, Killian nodded his ascent to the priestess.

  “Almighty Eliam, bless this weapon with the power to serve your purposes!” Shalindra intoned.

  Killian repeated the words exactly.

  “Give this your servant the boldness and courage to do your will in the world and defeat the ways of the Malkind and their followers!” Shalindra continued in a loud voice.

  Killian hesitated here. He was unsure what was happening. Somehow, this seemed very dangerous to him. In his mind, questions were popping up like warning signs. These were not the words used in times past for the other weapons sent by his father, or brought personally by Radden.

  “Do you believe in your Creator?” Shalindra asked when he did not immediately comply. “Do you seek his blessing this day? Then speak the words!”

  Killian pushed past his reservations. His faith being called into question, he courageously proceeded, crying out to Eliam in his strongest voice. “Give this your servant the boldness and courage to do your will in the world and defeat the ways of the Malkind and their followers!”

  Immediately, the entire temple courtyard exploded in white light, as several bolts of lightning struck the blade of the sword at once. Killian’s vision went white and his ears rang. Then, almost as suddenly, the scene changed.

  Killian found himself high above the storm that dominated the Brine Wood and the temple. Even the clouds, white from this vantage point where the sun shone down upon them, were far below. Not even the birds flew so high.

  A voice like thunder resounded from sky to sky, a masculine voice like the sound of a river rushing over a waterfall. The language, at first, was indecipherable. Then, as the strange words tumbled through his mind, they became coherent.

  “I bestow my blessing upon you, Killian Radden-son,” the voice said.

  Killian could see only the storm below and stars in a veil of night above, with Titan’s sun as the brightest among them. It did not blind him to look upon its tremendous light. He felt no pain and no fear. He knew without thinking that this could only be the voice of Eliam that spoke to him from the heavens.

  A thousand questions attempted to break into his thoughts, but they were barred from his conscious mind. Nothing was allowed to intrude upon Eliam’s voice and Killian’s contemplation of his words. He was everywhere and nowhere.

  “You are a chosen vessel unto me to thwart the plans of the Malkind.”

  Killian desired to speak, but he could not form words. Eliam’s voice and his will crashed upon him like the waves of a great sea. His strength fled away. His will was bent like a reed in the wind.

  Then his body began to fall toward the surface of the world. He passed into the storm and through the clouds. He realized suddenly that he was riding a bolt of lightning down toward the blade and his own body. He was drawn down impossibly fast, unable to scream as his spirit converged with his mortal form still standing deaf and blind in the same moment when the lightning had struck. Indeed, those bolts of energy had remained frozen in time, until he returned to his body.

  Light and heat and pressure returned. He was back in that moment when the lightning hit the sword. The ringing was gone from his ears. In its place was the terrible roar of thunder, overwhelming him.

  Killian fell to the ground, blinded by the light. He felt numb over his entire body. In fact, the only sensation was the sword in his hand. He found solace in that knowledge and in the voice, but not in the words. What was said disturbed him. What had Shalindra done, having him ask for that blessing? This lone query remained with him until unconsciousness swallowed him whole.

  A Fate Worse than Death

  Days passed, after which a rider from Evelyn’s caravan arrived to inform us of the terrible news. Of course, I already knew what ill tidings he bore. He had not brought her body back to the abbey. Having been sent from Evelyn, I was not surprised. She cared nothing for us.

  We were not Malkind worshippers, therefore we were not human. In her eyes, we were only pawns in a game. We served their purposes, living as slaves in a palace, but living as slaves nonetheless.

  The word from Evelyn was unsurprising news. She expected me to ready myself for the trip to Rainier. Apparently, an escort would be sent from the palace to convey me to Mistress Evelyn and her son. Her visual message yesterday, through the use of her Malkind wand, had confirmed both her safe arrival at the palace and her intention to receive me despite the inconvenient nature of the situation.

  I was still not her first choice. That much was clear. In fact, Evelyn had conveyed to Hannah how displeased she was to require my person at all. If there had been another girl near of age and ability, she would have called for them immediately. Unfortunately for her, the matter of the throne and the king’s health was dire, and I was her only option.

  The terrible irony of the situation was not lost on me. Had I gone in the first place, Celia would still be alive. Upon my death at the hands of the Cindermen, she would have been next in line. She would then have been the one to have Evelyn’s own bodyguard sent to escort her to Rainier. I would have been dead in a ditch, and she would have gone on to bond with Prince Nathan under the watch care of Mistress Evelyn. Strangely, it occurred to me to wonder which fate was worse. Perhaps, Celia had been spared a fate worse than death.

  My tears had long since dried up. I had spent my days, since that awful vision, crying almost non-stop. Hannah, at first, had chided my sorrow as girlish emotionalism. However, once I had explained my vision, she relented somewhat. She hadn’t been entirely sure such a premonition would prove accurate, but she had given me the benefit of the doubt. The rider from Evelyn had only confirmed the details of my story.

  I waited for the one who was coming. This Kane person was supposed to escort me safely to the palace in Rainier. I knew less than nothing about the man, but some of the other girls claimed to have heard stories associated with his name.

  Apparently, he was considered to be quite fierce; a deadly assassin turned royal protector. I did not bother to ask Hannah anything about Kane. She probably wouldn’t have told me anyway. Since the rider had arrived with news of the caravan and Celia’s fate, she had been distant. I got the feeling she blamed me for Celia’s death.

  I couldn’t help but agree with her sentiment. I was to blame. Celia had not been rea
dy for this duty to be thrust upon her so suddenly. Like leaves upon a gale wind, we had been able to do nothing to halt the advance of fate.

  It was one hour past our evening meal when the bell rang at the main abbey door. Sandra, a female servant, answered the door just as the little bell stopped ringing. A man in black clothing stood tall, like the shadow of a scarecrow on the other side of the threshold.

  Sandra gasped, bowing her head when she laid eyes upon him. I gasped also, but did not look away. Like a mouse hypnotized by the gaze of a python, I was transfixed by this person. Without any introduction, I knew already that this man must be Kane.

  I noticed for the first time that the sky was overcast outside, beyond the man. Deep purple clouds roiled over the hills in the distance. Lightning illuminated the doorway, framing Kane in otherworldly light, as though the sky had just issued a warning as to the nature of our visitor this evening.

  A dreadful feeling of foreboding crept over my skin, raising goose flesh on my arms. A cold tingling sensation ran along my spine. There was something very unnerving about this man; something I could not quite place. He was dangerous without doing a thing to warrant my fear, like an evil shadow knitted to an otherwise ordinary man.

  As soon as Sandra stepped out of his way, Kane came through the door. The movement was so unnaturally quick, I barely registered any steps taken. I caught a dying luminescence in his eyes—an amber glow that quickly dissipated—a spirit hiding away within the man.

  Instinctively, I quested out toward him with my power, searching to uncover what I had just witnessed. Kane’s gaze fixed upon me, as though I had physically touched him. In his eyes, I found a stern rebuke for the intrusion. Instantly, I felt my power rebuffed.

  Then something even more unexpected happened. Like the tentacles of an octopus crawling over my flesh, I felt power emanating from Kane. I was seized and held where I stood, put into subjection to whatever dwelt within Evelyn’s bodyguard. The sensation was not unlike times when, as a small child, my matron would grab me by the chin and force me to look into her eyes. I was meant to understand who had the real power here. I attempted to resist, but my effort was futile. As quickly as the lesson was taught, the power over me retreated.

  My surprise was no doubt evident upon my face. Not only did Kane sense my power, he had the ability to resist it. I had never met a man like this, and I had not yet formally met this one. Still, I knew enough to fear him.

  A black cape, more like a cloak of darkness, hung from his broad shoulders down to the floor almost completely obscuring his leather boots. As his cape shifted slightly, I noticed a dark scabbard beneath, holding a weapon that was likely as agile and quick as a darting adder in his hands. Despite the space between us—I stood near the stair beyond the large foyer—I shuddered when he finally spoke.

  “You are the girl I have come for,” he said, his voice deep but level. His tone was commanding. I knew already that this assassin had not been refused often and never more than once.

  I found myself nodding involuntarily, my eyes still locked with his. A slight grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, his face barely visible beneath the wide brim of his black hat. Sandra’s eyes fastened on me, her bottom lip quivering. She may have been as terrified right now as I was.

  “I will eat one meal here,” he said. “When I have finished, you will be ready to depart this place.”

  I continued nodding dumbly at him. His words registered on some level, but it was not with my conscious mind. “Yes, my lord,” I answered. However, my voice felt like that of another person; out of my control.

  I noticed Hannah standing just behind me. “Of course, my lord,” she said. “Cook will prepare you our finest. Sandra, escort our distinguished guest to a room at once where he may refresh himself after his journey.”

  Sandra snapped to attention instantly, shutting the door behind Kane. As she passed before him again, she addressed him in a trembling but respectful voice. “If you’ll follow me, sir?”

  He turned his gaze finally from mine and followed Sandra toward the dining room. As I exhaled heavily, I realized I had been holding my breath the entire time. Hannah was still behind me, drawing near as I turned to her.

  “Be sure you’re ready before Kane finishes his meal,” she said sternly.

  I began to protest, but Hannah’s hand came up to silence me. “We’ll have none of that,” she said. “I’ve already lost favor with Mistress Evelyn once, and we lost Celia—all because of your stubbornness.”

  My mouth closed tight. The matter with Celia still stung like an open wound. However, Hannah was not one to be trifled with. She knew all that had happened. I really was to blame.

  I lowered my eyes in shame and nodded my agreement. “I will be ready,” I managed in a submissive tone.

  I stalked away down the main hall, leaving my matron behind to ponder the quickest way to appease our guest without anyone in the abbey getting killed. The other girls appeared from their rooms, staring at me as I marched past them, heading toward my own room. They did not say what was on their minds.

  Everyone knew that Evelyn’s rider would come to escort me to Rainier. It had only been a matter of time. Only a week ago, Celia had left the abbey for the capital city, riding with an armored caravan and Mistress Evelyn herself. Now, she was dead. The girls I was leaving behind were no doubt wondering what fate would befall me upon the road to Rainier, escorted by only a single bodyguard.

  I opened the door to my room and walked inside. I was too paralyzed by fear to bother with thought transmission. Instead, I simply closed the door manually. That alone testified to my state of mind. If only my Killian had been real. If only he could have saved me from the terrible fate that awaited me in Rainier with Evelyn and her son, Prince Nathan.

  I looked around the room, attempting to think of anything I must have on my journey, anything from my life at the abbey that I could not do without. Nothing came to mind. After all these years, I had nothing worth saving from my time here.

  My gaze wandered to the fire burning in the grate. In those flames I became lost, hypnotized by the dancing red and yellow colors. I saw Killian’s face there. I longed to walk into the heat of the fire and embrace him, find comfort in him; even escape with him. How could a dream seem so real?

  By the time I tore my gaze from the blaze heating my quarters, tears were rolling down my cheeks. This was the only home I had ever known. It hadn’t been much of a home, but I had had Celia for a time. With her gone, there was nothing precious to leave behind. I packed a few clothes in a satchel; something light and easy to carry on horseback.

  I spent what seemed like only minutes collecting myself and my meager belongings, escaping my fantasy with Killian. However, when I returned to the foyer, Kane was already waiting for me; his black hat still seated upon his head. He turned toward the main door of the abbey, while Hannah and the girls looked on. Sandra was not by the door to open it, but it opened anyway.

  Kane’s eyes fixed upon me, and I saw that same spectral light emerge once again. Something was inside this man’s mortal body, something that was far more powerful than anything I had experienced before. The same fear and foreboding as before came over me.

  Kane gestured toward the open door. Beyond, storm winds blew and the dark clouds had only grown more ominous in their appearance. There was no rain; at least not yet.

  “After you, my lady,” he said icily.

  He was toying with me, like a cat with a mouse that it’s not quite ready to devour. I swallowed hard and nodded, turning toward the door. I didn’t look back at Hannah or the girls. I preferred to remember each of them in other settings and situations. I would be terrified by my time with Kane. I didn’t need their terror-stricken faces added to the mixture of thoughts already swirling in my mind.

  I walked toward the storm brewing outside. Twilight awaited me at midday. The winds whipped my dark hair around my face. I passed over the threshold and felt Kane’s presence—or at least the p
resence of whatever indwelt him—very near behind me. My eyes closed as the door shut behind us.

  His black stallion waited upon the drive ahead. No one attended the animal. I sighed heavily. My life at the abbey had come to an end. Prince Nathan and a life enslaved to his wishes as his bond awaited me in Rainier; providing I actually made it to the palace alive. As I took steps toward the road and the midnight black animal before me, with Kane at my back, I almost wished for the likes of Judah and his Cindermen to find us in the way and put me out of my coming misery.

  Brewing Trouble

  When Killian finally revived, he was no longer at the temple within the Brine Wood. Shalindra was not present; only Esmeralda beneath him. Her gate was steady and plodding. She did not speak openly as she had at the temple. Yet, Killian could feel her emotional emanations like sweat from her skin.

  He raised his head, troubled by what he sensed from her equine mind. She seemed to be a blank slate at the moment. Other than her dogged determination to take them back into the capital city of Rainier, he could find no other thoughts.

  “Esmeralda?” he said.

  Almost instantly, she stopped upon the road. Thoughts, emotions, ideas and fears began to generate in her mind; almost as if a switch had been thrown. Her mind was returning to her quickly now. One of her first realizations was confusion. How did she get here? Was that Killian speaking to her? What had happened to the temple, the Brine Wood, and the priestess, Shalindra?

  “I’m here, Esmeralda. It’s me,” he said.

  How did we get here? was the question on her mind. She could no longer voice the questions in a human tongue—not outside the near vicinity of Eliam’s temple in the Brine Wood. She gave off some frustration over the loss of the ability. In her mind, it was only a moment ago that she was experiencing the freedom of communication that came with dwelling near the priestess.

  “I only woke a moment ago,” Killian explained. “I thought you might be able to tell me what happened, but I guess that isn’t the case.”

  Esmeralda shook her head.

  “I suppose Shalindra has set us upon the road again,” he surmised. “We must be meant to head back to the city then.”

 

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