Wasn’t that the truth.
We camped at the side of the road that night. The way was broad and straight, one the ancients’ greater roadways, but now overgrown and little used. We were passing too close to the Ice Fields for anyone to want to live here. I pulled my cloak tighter. Even in early spring it was cold, especially once the sun was down.
“You going to teach your friend how to fight?” Erev asked Grigg. “Or is he just going to watch when we kill Yashuath?” He looked me up and down. “He’s got nice, long legs - I guess he could run away.”
Grigg looked just the slightest bit irritated, but merely said, “He stepped between Yoshana and Prophetess in Stephensburg. I don’t think he’s afraid of a fight.”
“Not the wisest thing he ever did,” said the white-haired Overlord mildly. Her eyes locked on mine from the other side of the fire, flames dancing in them.
“Eh, so not a coward. I just heard stupid, though. And nobody’s said he can fight. I don’t see him carrying a weapon. So I’m still thinking useless.”
Grigg pulled two sticks from the edge of the fire, each an inch thick and around three feet long. “Close enough.” He tossed one to me. “Swords.”
The tip of my “blade” was smoldering, and I beat it out on the grass before I stood. I winced, stretching to work the stiffness out of my legs. Grigg waited until I took my stance, then lunged at me with a wild overhand blow.
I stepped in and brought up my stick in a Flowing Water cut that would take his hand off if I were using a real blade. He pivoted, allowed his strike to pass harmlessly outside my counter, and kicked me between the legs.
While I was doubled over gasping and trying not to throw up he smacked the back of my neck with his stick. Erev laughed.
“Let’s try that again,” I wheezed.
Grigg waited patiently until I caught my breath. But the instant I began to step forward he launched a ferocious backhand. I parried. The force of the blow almost tore the piece of wood from my hand. With my blade deflected out of line, he jabbed me in the side of the face with his left fist. I staggered under the force of the blow. He swept a forehand slash at me, and I just barely interposed my stick, but this time I did lose my grip on it and it flew wide. His third stroke caught me just under the ribs.
“Ow,” I said.
“Took three blows that time, Grigg,” Erev said. “He’s getting better.” He laughed again.
The Select doctrine of the sword said that most fights should be decided in three strikes. It didn’t make me feel any better. I had expected Grigg to be stronger and more skilled than I was. I hadn’t expected it to be by that much. He wasn’t even breathing hard.
“That wasn’t bad,” Yoshana said. “Grigg, give him some real instruction tomorrow night. Don’t just abuse him. We know he can take a beating.”
I sat back down. Grigg threw both sticks on the fire and clapped me on the shoulder, then easily folded his legs and lowered himself to the ground next to me. If my eyes stung, it must have been from the smoke and the lingering effects of the punch to the head.
Roshel, who had been close to Yoshana, got up and moved to sit at my left.
Had I said her effect on me was weaker? It wasn’t just the fire heating my face.
“Going to nurse him back to health?” Erev asked.
The dark-haired Overlord snapped, “You and me, then, Erev? You can have a sword. I’ll go barehanded.”
“Not exactly fair bringing the Darkness into it,” he protested.
“What’s fair got to do with fighting? That didn’t look like a fair fight between Grigg and Minos. Yoshana never fights fair if she can help it. All that time following her around and you haven’t learned much from it.” Her tone was mockingly sweet.
Erev threw up his hands. “I yield.”
Roshel put her arm around my shoulders. “I’d like to tell you his bark is worse than his bite, but it isn’t. He’ll stick a knife in your guts if you give him half a chance. He’s a total bastard.”
The scarred man laughed. “True, every word of it.”
Even Yoshana grinned.
With that laughter, it felt like I had been accepted, if just a bit, into that deadly little group. Somewhat to my surprise, it felt good.
The days wore on. We set the fastest pace the horses could sustain, but the pass through the Sorrows wasn’t close. It was just as well. In the nights, once our camp was set, Grigg would help me practice with the sword. He’d found two sticks he liked, and we kept those “blades” with us.
I knew all the basic elements he used, but he taught me to refine and combine them. I couldn’t match his strength and probably never would, so he helped me learn to turn and deflect his strokes rather than blocking them. He was a good instructor, but as ruthless as Yoshana herself. No opportunity was lost to trip me, ram me with his shoulder, or knee me in the crotch. Between the daily pounding of the saddle and the nightly beating at Grigg’s hands, my whole body was a solid, throbbing ache.
Roshel was another kind of ache. I felt flushed and nervous when she was with me, but had no desire to be away from her. She frequently rode with Grigg and me, sometimes chatting easily and sometimes in a comfortable silence. Comfortable for her, anyway.
I felt disloyal to Prophetess. To the person and to the cause. There had been nothing physical between Tess and me, though I certainly wouldn’t have objected if there had been. Not that there was anything between Roshel and me either, yet - but there the attraction burned. Prophetess was someone I respected, admired, and cared for. I didn’t want to examine my feelings toward Roshel too closely, because I was afraid of what I might find.
About a week after leaving Our Lady, we saw the castle in the distance. There was really nothing else to call it - a massive stone fortress, looking like it was torn from the pages of some medieval history book.
Grigg rode up to the front of the column. “Think that’s it?” he asked Yoshana.
“What else could it be?”
“Want to just pass by? We’re in a hurry.”
She gave a little laugh. “Really? I wouldn’t mind a roof over my head tonight.”
The Select shrugged and rode back to me. “Guess we’ll sample the local hospitality.”
The castle stood half a mile from the road down a dirt lane. Tilled fields spread around it, and low outbuildings hugged the massive stone walls. The lane led straight to the fortress’ open gate, a huge affair of iron and wood. We could have ridden the horses in two or three abreast.
One of the pair of guards leaning indolently on spears waved to a low hitching rail. “You can tie up here if you’ve come to see our lord.” He jerked his thumb at a little shed next to it. “Weapons in there.”
Yoshana’s hood was up, hiding her features. “We are travelers from Stephensburg. It’s a long road and we’d ask your lord for food and shelter.”
It seemed like a good enough idea to me. At this point I would take a bed full of fleas over the ground, and I was already tired of pemmican and hard bread.
“Sure. Horses there, weapons there, in you go. I’m sure my lord will take care of you.”
The guard seemed utterly unconcerned. Even without being able to see Yoshana’s face, I would have found a company including two Select and four hard-eyed veterans a little intimidating. My eyes went to the arrow slits piercing the stone wall above the gate. Maybe the guard was so unconcerned because the odds were more favorable to him than they appeared.
I thought Yoshana - or at least Erev - might protest giving up their swords and guns, but they stacked them in the shed meekly enough. I had nothing much to give up, but set my staff in with the weaponry.
“Go on in, then,” the guard said.
The hallway within was more like a tunnel. Torches were set in sconces, but none were lit. Some light leaked in from behind us, and I could see more ahead, but the corridor itself was nearly pitch black.
Yoshana marched along it readily enough. Maybe she figured there couldn’t be an
ything in there worse than her. The rest of us followed.
The passage opened out into a large, vaulted hall, lit by leaded glass windows set high in the walls. Images of angels and saints were worked into them. The light filtered down through airborne dust motes onto three wooden tables, two lengthwise to us and the third at the far end of the hall, crosswise. At this last, three men lounged, hands casually on the hilts of weapons.
“Welcome,” boomed the man on the far side of that farthest table. He was short, stocky and bald, with a wild beard. “Welcome to my hall. I’m Lord Brom of Icefall, and you’ll find the price of lodging fair and reasonable. I’ll take no more than you have.”
The other two snickered, slouching relaxed on stools on the nearer side of the table. Their hands didn’t leave their swords.
“We are emissaries from Stephensburg, on Stephen’s business,” Yoshana replied. She continued to walk toward them, in no hurry. “We regret to impose, but we brought little coin.”
“You misunderstand,” Brom said. “I’ll take what I will of what you have. Your clothes seem very fine, for example. As does your friend there.” He leered at Roshel. “And perhaps you too, under that hood.”
“There are more of us than there are of you,” Yoshana observed.
“But I have a bit of an advantage in position.” He waved stubby fingers.
I looked up and around. A balcony ringed half the hall behind us and to the sides. Four men in leather armor with nocked bows grinned down.
It was a neat trap. I might have admired it if I hadn’t been in it.
One of the bowmen screamed, “My eyes!”
Blood poured from his mouth and he fell, slamming with a dull thud to the floor behind us. The other three crumpled where they stood, writhing silently, red stains spreading around them. One of the men at the table staggered toward us, knocking over his stool, before he collapsed. The other simply slid to the ground, dead.
“There are more of us than there are of you,” Yoshana repeated.
She kept walking, not breaking her stride even when she stepped on the man who had tried to charge us. Lord Brom gave an inarticulate cry and leapt onto the table, swinging a spiked mace.
The weapon flew from his hand before he reached Yoshana, shedding sparks as it skidded across the stone floor. Brom’s arm kept moving without it and she caught his wrist. Despite his bulk and momentum, she gave no more ground than if she’d been forged from iron. Her other hand went around his throat.
That’s what I thought at first. My gorge rose when I realized her hand was in his throat.
“Stephen doesn’t appreciate you robbing his citizens,” she said. “I don’t especially care for it myself.”
I think the point was lost on him, considering the amount of blood that came out of his neck when she removed her hand. None of it stuck to her.
She turned and smiled at me. “It’s amazing how little force you have to apply when it’s targeted. It’s very easy for the Darkness to sever the optic nerves and the walls of the carotid artery, for example.” She nodded at the dead bowmen, then glanced back at Brom’s corpse. “I’ll admit that part was a little messier than it needed to be.”
Erev’s grin would have given a demon nightmares.
My legs trembled like leaves in the wind. I staggered to a bench at the nearest table and sat heavily.
“I like that,” said Erev. “Just sit right down like you own the place. And here I thought you wouldn’t have the guts for this.”
His men chuckled.
Grigg was heading back down the corridor the way we’d come. Roshel reported, “Only four household staff besides the dead and the two outside. Three women and one old man. They don’t know what’s happened yet.” She hadn’t moved since the brief battle - massacre, really. However she knew what she’d reported, it wasn’t something she’d learned with a normal human’s five senses.
Yoshana waved lazily. “Go round them up.”
She walked around the lord’s table and sat in his chair. High and carved, I suppose the word “throne” might have applied.
The Overlord put her booted feet up on the table. “More comfortable than a saddle, anyway.”
She pushed back her hood and looked me straight in the eyes. Hers were no softer than the sapphire they resembled. “The Darkness was a reconnaissance tool before it was a weapon. I knew what was waiting for us before we crossed the threshold. Like I said, it doesn’t take much to break apart cell walls. By the time we were in this room, there was enough of the Darkness in all of them that it was just a matter of willing them to die.”
She apparently didn’t need to blink. I wanted to look away, but didn’t want to see the dead men or Erev’s mocking smile.
“Are you frightened?” she asked.
I nodded. What point in lying?
“Good. This is what the Hellguard can do. The Darkness wraiths in the northern Sorrows - they’re almost gods. If you’re going to play this game, you need to understand the players.” The sweep of her arm encompassed the room full of death. “And the rules.”
Grigg came back, herding the two gate guards. They were both unarmed.
“God!” one burst out as he surveyed the carnage. The other clapped his hand to his mouth, then pivoted around the big Select, trying to bolt. Grigg caught him by the neck and held him in place. Whether it was his immense strength or the Darkness at work I didn’t know or want to know.
Yoshana stood and walked toward them, in no hurry. Halfway there the Darkness began to pour out of her like a cloud of black smoke. Their eyes bulged and they cringed back.
I felt like I should say something, but what? Plead for the lives of these men who would have robbed and perhaps murdered us? And if I did, how long would I live?
And so I said nothing.
“Stephen is not pleased,” the Overlord said. “Robbing travelers in his lands is…” she looked around. “Well, it’s a capital offense, isn’t it?”
The Darkness surged around her, then swept forward, covering the two men. They both screamed.
“Go to Stephensburg and report to Commander Stannick,” she said. The black stain was disappearing - into them? “Tell him the Darkness Radiant is to take possession of this fortress and use it as an outpost. Take horses from your stable and go as fast as you can. If you don’t… the Darkness in you will know. It will tear you apart from the inside out. Slowly. If that happens, your bodies will still reach Commander Stannick to report - though no one will recognize them as human.”
She stepped a foot closer. “Go!”
The two stumbled over each other in their mad rush down the corridor.
“Didn’t think it could hold a command at that kind of distance from you,” Erev said as the sound of their running feet receded.
“It can’t.” Yoshana smiled. “They don’t know that. By the time they’re a hundred yards from here it will be out of their bodies. I can’t control it much past that range, and God knows what it would do to them.”
She turned back to me. “There are ways and ways.”
Roshel brought in three women and an old man, just as she had said. One of the younger women broke into loud sobs, but the others stood silently. The old man dabbed at his eyes.
“Clean up this mess,” Yoshana told them. “And then we’ll eat. After that you can show us where to rest.”
The Darkness still coiled around her. “Needless to say, if you try to poison us, or murder us in our sleep, we’ll know, and then… well, it would be convenient if there were staff in this place when my troops arrive, but not essential.”
Light still danced in the dust motes. Above us, angels and saints looked down from the leaded glass. Whatever they thought, they didn’t say.
4. Where Angels Fear to Tread
I was glad to be on the road again. Had I wanted a bed under a roof? I hadn’t counted on it being a dead man’s bed, his corpse still cooling outside. I had tossed and turned all night in that dark room. I couldn’t have said wh
ether it was my conscience or fear that one of those four silent servants would murder me in my sleep.
Grigg had laughed at me when I mentioned it.
“None of them could have killed us even if they’d worked up the nerve to try. We’re warded every night. You figured out that Yoshana doesn’t need her eyes on you to see you - she doesn’t need them open, either. Neither do I. That’s just the most basic use of the Darkness.”
So much for slipping away in the night.
Grigg had just confirmed it didn’t take a visible amount of the Darkness to set a perimeter. Yoshana had said there was enough of it in Brom’s guards to kill them by the time they drew their bows on us. “How much of that stuff is in me?” I asked.
“Weather’s getting better,” he replied.
That was true enough. We had begun to turn south, away from the Ice Fields. That, and the coming of spring, made the temperature far more pleasant. But icy fingers crawled up my spine. As terrifying as I’d thought this group before, I’d never truly seen them in action. Tolf had been right - I’d blundered into Grigg’s mission like a man stepping into a pond and discovering there was no bottom. The reality was worse than my nightmares.
Had I thought they’d accepted me? Maybe the way a bloody-handed band of robbers might adopt a puppy. Until they got tired of it, or it became inconvenient.
Sometimes Erev would look at me and chuckle.
That night Grigg jerked his thumb at me, calling me to practice. I unbuckled the dead man’s sword I now wore on my belt, a heavy, double-edged blade nothing like my old katana. But as I went to my pack for the practice sticks, Yoshana said to her lieutenant, “Give him a rest tonight. Let’s you and me go.”
What was the Overlord trying to prove? As deadly as she had showed herself to be, Grigg had half a foot of reach and a hundred pounds on her.
Out came Grigg’s sword - steel, not stick. The firelight ran strangely on it, reflecting from the blade as if it were some kind of liquid glass rather than metal. The Overlord’s weapon was just as odd, as dull as Grigg’s was bright.
Passing Through Darkness- The Complete Cycle Page 23