Traitor to the King: A Tale of the Benaga Sisters

by Clare SM Keating

  “Karayan don’t!” Damara squeaked and lunged forward, grasping the giant’s thick arm in her embrace only to watch his black robes ripple and shudder. The moment she noticed this rather sickening swarming motion she let go and stepped back fearfully, as if the shroud was doing the job of the bristled hair on an angry cat’s body. Jarl was not being choked by the Karayan, simply held and Damara swiftly tried to apologise for them both, but she could only see the rage within the Karayan’s form as the shroud seemed to jolt with spikes.

  “It may not be my duty to command you… but unless you want me to inform your sister of this event I suggest you collect Karani and go home right now. Anouk is already there waiting for you to come… you can say prayers to Nabuto for forgiveness and that I don’t change my mind.” He snarled, his black mask starting to pulsate with sharp edges as if it were trying to form the appropriately scary visage to make Damara react. She looked as if about to break into tears, but it was not for the fact she was doing wrong but that her friend was telling her off! With a soft snort of upset and anger, Damara nodded her head to him and turned on her heel to depart, pacing out of the narrow gap and straight into the throng in search of her companion. The Karayan maintained holding on to Jarl until he saw the two women meet up and depart, and then he settled the male down and swore at him. “What about your wife and child?”

  “How can some monster like you have any understanding of what is going on? You have no idea what that meant to us!” Jarl snarled angrily, facing the Karayan down as best he could despite the fact he was still being grasped. Jarl was fed up of everyone reminding him of his stupidity today; yes, he’d been an arrogant and brash young man in a big city who’d been lured in by a prostitute and learnt the hard way about responsibility. He’d been lucky the woman had been understanding and eager to follow him to this repressing society where she had even less rights than she had in the city. But worst of all, though Jarl had expected only those necessary to know about the pregnancy… everyone seemed to know. He was becoming the local joke amongst the nobles and he hated them for it, if only because he alone was willing to accept the punishment for his mistake.

  But even though he was being harsh towards the Karayan, he could not deny his own pain and sorrow in the acknowledgement of the beast’s words. The longer Jarl hooked onto the idea that he could be with Damara, the longer he fed her interest and the more pain he was bringing to them all. It would only take one slip up for Damara to be seen with him, as now and she could be thrown amongst the sacred women and used as a practice piece by any other male in the kingdom. She did not deserve that and Kirlia did not deserve his disdain and neglect.

  Humbled by the silence of the creature, Jarl slumped his head forward in a bow as the creature in the dark shroud removed his arm from the figure’s neck, but did not allow the being to slink away. Instead he eyed up the nobleman cautiously, judging how best to respond to him without invoking violence or any questions that the Karayan did not wish to answer. He could not find something to suit such specifications so simply stated what sat at the tip of his tongue, desperate to be heard by someone.

  “You can kill with the words you say and actions you take; love is precious and rare… if you forsake it for pride, envy or fear than you will create suffering.”

  With that said the great shadowy creature pulled himself away from Jarl and stepped back amongst the crowd. Now his citron eyes glanced about at the variety of life that existed below the surface with a grimace of frustration. It was less variety in species than in classes, he pondered how often a non-Deep elf was ever permitted within the main body of the kingdom and he grimaced as he thought over his own initiation. He had only been permitted here because the king had seen him for what he really was, even if the Karayan had not known it himself at the time. Shaking his head as he sought out some of the fresh water to drink and avoided the various plates of meat thrust under his nose by giggly vendors, the Karayan sought another high plaza to sit upon and watch the spectacle. He had found no higher platforms empty however and instead had found himself strolling towards the council platform and the bench that stared at the shimmering crystals.

  Here he settled himself to sit and think, to listen to the music and the laughter rather than allow himself to think of all the politics he despised within this landscape. He thought instead about his reason for being here and what he now knew himself to be. It was difficult to accept that one minute you were some cursed being whose memories had been taken in a fight with an Orc shaman protecting some weak little goblins from being slaughtered to then knowing you were… special. He had heard the stories about his kind and yet no one had ever dared to match him up to it, assumed him too ugly or vile looking perhaps to be considered so important or unique amongst the universe. Perhaps that was just the way Nabuto liked to play things… difficult!

  Difficult was the apt word for Anouk too. Now the Karayan understood his attachment to her and knew that a piece of her was beating inside him just as a piece of him was with her, he tried to fit together the rest of it. His memories would only permit him so far, whatever spells some unkind figure had swallowed her body in, they affected him too and a true awakening on her part could answer the questions he still held. What he did know however was that she was only as immortal as he was, that she was bound to his life force and that whenever she was in pain or fear he was called for. That had been what had led him all this way, the sensation that he had business in Virenheim and that he owed the Benaga Household – he’d remembered the images of them in his mind after-all.

  “They say it is fitting for your kind to think of the great mysteries whilst the rest of the world dances through life. Are we disturbing you my lord?” The question, the reference and the humility within the voice slapped Karayan about the back of the head like a hammer. He leapt onto his feet and almost over the edge, his claws quickly snatching the stone bench for support as he looked to the speakers. His lips curled within his mask and he produced a low growl of anger as he looked at the figure of Lady Molwesa Ahygah-Benaga with her curious liquid brown eyes and pallid grey skin.

  The half-sister, adopted into the Benaga household by her step-father Barbanos, stood in a robe of pale white with golden suns and stars embellishing its form and a gentle look about her face. She had been leading the Sacred Women about the celebration as was her duty, for they were expected to perform theirs at such a time. She was not alone in coming to see the Karayan though and her usually smug expression was swapped with one of utter kindness and adoration, as if she were staring at her king. It frustrated the Karayan greatly, but his eyes were drawn to the other woman, obviously Molwesa’s second who was trembling beside her as if she were in the presence of a dangerous god.

  If memory served him correctly than her name was Saravona and her correct title was Junior to the Head Healer, but she was a full-grown woman. She was probably only fifteen years older than Anouk so five years older than himself, but age lay in lines beneath her eyes and her expression was sunken. She was said to be a great healer, perhaps equal to Molwesa in her abilities although like all the women of the order its use was highly restricted. Rumours had told of how Saravona had once been a favourite toy for one of the former noble’s now long dead, an ancient man apparently but that she had produced a child to him. No one was quite sure if it was the truth, but it had certainly put questions around the heritage of Lord Gahlvrod’s ‘son’ into question. But it was clear to the Karayan as he looked at her that the unfortunate thing had been used by countless males and probably regarded them with a secret hatred that made being in his presence even more repugnant.

  This fact was proven to him as she was grasped firmly by the arm when one of the younger males of a noble family strolled past and tried to encourage her to join him. Molwesa looked irritated by the action though Saravona gasped, neither woman seemed willing to stop the matter and so the Karayan stepped forward. He politely informed the gentleman he was interrupting their conversation and whatever the y
oung elf had intended to relieve himself of with Saravona’s aid, something else wished to depart his body and he ran. Saravona’s eyes, a blistering shade of pink that told the Karayan she was more from albino lines and probably was the cause of her abandonment into the Sacred Women, clapped on his with wavering tears of confusion. He gently took her hand and led her to the bench before offering his hand to take Molwesa to it as well, but the prideful figure merely strolled beside him and gently patted Saravona’s trembling form.

  “Forgive my junior’s weaknesses this evening; she has already serviced a few of the nobles and I pulled her aside because she is suitable for a different client this day.” Molwesa stated and the Karayan sneered beneath his mask. He could not understand the cruel way in which Molwesa permitted the women in her care to be passed around from one fool to the next and he knew she was trying to play something out. Whatever she had learnt about him the Karayan was not going to join her dangerous game and yet he pitied Saravona greatly and did not wish for her to be left in such an unpleasant situation. Molwesa continued with a vivid grin upon her face however and the Karayan remained unpleasant. “Of all the lords in the land yours is the health I have neglected greatly. I have done so out of disgust for viewing you as nothing more than a demon in the skin of some barbarian and yet I have been proven wrong for the first time in years. Therefore, I must maintain my duty and ensure your health check is commenced and this includes a specific duty all lords must perform to maintain their titles.”

  “You’re wrong about something? What a shock, I’m sure your niece would beam to hear that.” The Karayan snorted and to his immense pleasure the liquid brown eyes seemed to shimmer with a great darkness at the reference to Anouk. The Karayan could tell that there was still no love lost between the two of them and he had sensed from the beginning that Molwesa was the cause of Anouk’s lost memories, although the reasoning was not obvious to him. “What have you found then, Oh Great Healer?”

  “Your arrogance is infuriating… but surely you are here to test my patience as you are to test that of every elf within this kingdom. But that is probably part of your purpose here… you were sent by Nabuto to aid us in our time of direst need and already you have assisted in bringing a stone into our powers again and prevented the Benaga Household from being eliminated completely. You are to be honoured and I honour you.” With that she suddenly fell onto her knees and bowed in front of him as Saravona stood up and then paced around to prevent the show of submission being spotted by others. It would not have done for more questions to be produced regarding the relationship between the healer and this figure, especially when her previous regard for him held nothing but contempt. “I have seen the error of my ways… forgive me Lord, for believing you to be nothing more than a monster.”

  “How do you know I’m not what your culture would refer to as a monster?” The Karayan stated, his eyes glinting with a vibrant yellow light that made Molwesa cringe as she looked up to him. With a sigh of frustration, she stood herself upward and then wiped the dust from her clothing. For a time, she stared at the mask of the figure and seemed to be drawing images in her mind of what was being hidden away and what should have been there to see. She was pondering of the secrets she expected were hidden because the Karayan chose them to be or whether there really was a curse on him, but from beside her Saravona finally opened her mouth and bowed to the Karayan.

  “Forgive me lord; it was my duty and my instruction from Lady Molwesa and the King himself.” Saravona’s voice was not what the Karayan had been expecting at all and to his own surprise it quite excited him. He had assumed her to be softly spoken, a whisperer with sweet tones to match her nervous display, but he had not expected a deep voice with a gravelly edge that stroked at his body like the purr of a cat. He shook his head automatically at the reaction, ignorant in that moment to the possibly malicious flicker within Molwesa’s eyes as she turned toward Saravona and nodded her head, permitting her to speak more as the Karayan blinked and seemed normal again. “It was only for the kingdom’s safety, but I was instructed to take a sample of your blood from the sword of Higatso. This blood was then used in an unusual test involving a special creature that knows the truth in blood when compared to something. The sample was tainted with the blood of Higatso, but it could clearly sense something and under the king’s instruction we made a comparison to a sacred relic and it noted a similarity. It told us that you are of a race long thought departed – a sign perhaps of the danger that is to come.”

  “The creature you speak of, it is a demon, but you have used some magic or forbidden technique to dull it to a simple task. Is that not against your own teachings? Have you not committed heresy in such a test, let alone in daring to touch the blood of one like me?” The Karayan was not actually against the techniques they had used, it showed a great intelligence and indeed he had seen a lot of those methods used in the land beyond the Giroff Mountains. However, in knowing what he was now the action could have been very dangerous, especially if a demonic entity were to recognise the full scale of the Karayan’s power and ability. He had been lucky enough in fighting Ynvirius that the demon to have possessed him were unintelligent and that fighting the Hive Demon and Bulgas, they had all been under the sway of a young Archdemon that probably sought to make a name for itself in the world of Orcreich, rather than to deal with the dark gods.

  His words encouraged fear to show in the faces of both women and they were indeed quite taken aback by his sudden aggression. They could understand the danger, but they were concerned he was willing to lecture them on what was forbidden within their realm. They could not expect that the creature would understand the necessity of these techniques or indeed the king’s orders, after-all he was not ready to learn the truth of Virenheim’s ruler just yet.

  “The test was instructed and overseen by the king himself, the vessel of Nabuto’s will and the power of this land. We needed to know the truth… to know if you were a demon or just some damned unlucky fool with black blood. You have seen what demons can do and think how they can obtain forms and bodies to intercept the landscape and trick with promises. How could we know if you had not come to collect some debt Higatso had been linked to?” Molwesa snapped, her arrogance finally boiling onto her tongue so that she dared to insult the being she was trying to revere. Saravona looked at her with shock and concern but was soon crouching behind her mistress again as the Karayan’s great clawed finger was pressed to the woman’s thin nose to make her tremble in terror.

  “You are a hypocrite – you do things that you punish the rest of your community for doing. You condemn women to die because you think they are worthless, you sentence men to death or incarceration for daring to open their eyes and you torture the survivors of great tragedy by burning holes of guilt into their minds.” The Karayan could feel his fangs extending, he could feel his mouth frothing with rage and his breath becoming desperately hot, but he needed to let this out. He needed to bring Molwesa to her knees with his words because he knew no other being in the kingdom had the guts to. “No one can read the will of Nabuto; all we can do is make use of the gifts he gives us not repress them out of ignorance.”

  The Karayan turned as if he might walk away but Molwesa, though shaking with rage and upset, slapped her hand out to grasp his wrist tightly. Her nails practically bit into the scale-like skin that had begun to shimmer within the light of his rage and she held him despite his wish to move on. The figure cloaked in darkness remained motionless in the hopes that perhaps she might admit her guilt, that she might tell him what she had done to her niece. He could not doubt it now, he knew that Molwesa was responsible for everything that was breaking Anouk’s mind apart and for that he wished to break the healer into pieces!

  “I have not finished with you my Lord – forget what I have said or bury it down as deeply as the many regrets I have for what happens in my kingdom.” Molwesa spoke bitterly through her grinding teeth, not daring to turn and face his citron eyes that swirled in anger
but instead looking towards the crystals. As the glass-like structures seemed to dance with light and colour she looked to them for healing and for strength, she looked to them for clarity and for confidence. It pained her to think she was being so greatly humiliated and shamed despite the fact a Boodoo’s poison had been the cause of her own sterilisation and her part in this wretched career. “As head of the Sacred Women I may allocate my women to service any of the men I declare fit and some I will also service. All lords must be serviced as a gesture of devotion to the sacred role of women… the bachelors especially to prove they are not impotent… an impotent male cannot hold position.”

  “I do not need or want what you wish to give me… if you know what I am then you should know I am here to serve not to be served.” The Karayan sneered, knowing full well that he was probably not going to get out of this encounter without giving up something. Whether it was a secret or something truly personal, he could tell that Molwesa was not used to being denied and not willing to share anything with him but regret.

  “But your position means that no one can know what you are until the correct time or in ungodly practices… as we have done. So, if you wish to remain unknown, especially to your friends and my nieces… I insist you perform your duty.” Molwesa snapped as the grip on his wrist was knocked loose and he called over his shoulder to her as he chose to leave the plaza and try to return home to peace and quiet!

  “For a healer you aren’t afraid to use blackmail… I can only imagine what other crimes you would stoop to in order to ‘facilitate’ what you believe in.”

  For a time, the two women remained motionless beside one another, watching the creature’s wake as crowds slid aside for him. Rage bubbled within Molwesa’s form to be so cheated and insulted as she flexed her hands and tried to ignore the burning sensation they now held. In her mind she registered the pain as necessary for her prideful actions, a simple penance for the life time of crimes she had indeed facilitated for a greater purpose. She had felt that very pain before in touching the hands of the king, she could not explain it but the interest his majesty held in this being was clearly some deeper connection then he was permitting Molwesa to know just yet. Her hunger for knowledge and yet her fear of it had permitted her to lie to herself repeatedly regarding the foul treatment of Loteg and his family and indeed to turn a blind eye to the matters of her own twin brother and his darkened soul.