Darkness Falling: Soldiers and Slaves (16 page)

Surrounded by the quiet she let out of a scream of rage, pounding her fist on the steering wheel.

How could they have been so careless?

Brosen and Impyra walked the streets with impunity. Not once had they met with an Enforcer patrol or anyone acting hostile or suspicious toward them. She tried to think back on when the card might have been flagged. It could have been at any of the stops they made. She didn’t understand why the Empire was tracking them instead of acting on the information.

Worse than her regret for their previous actions was the fact that Brosen and Impyra could be sailing directly into a trap and she had no way to warn them.

Feeling disappointed and helpless, Sheyra started the car. A knock sounded at the passenger window and she jumped. Lorsen was standing in the snow, a forlorn look on his face. She motioned for him to open the door and he climbed in beside her.

“You can’t go,” he said. “I still need your help.”

“Jairon's right,” she sighed. “I’m putting everyone in danger by staying here. The Empire isn’t going to ignore my involvement with Brosen and Impyra forever.” She realized it was the first time she was admitting the truth, but she no longer cared. “And you’re involved with the Resistance. They will come and arrested you, Lineya, and Jairon and drag everyone back to Empire Tower.”

“I'm not with the Resistance,” Lorsen said, eyes wide. “I was trying to get help from Jairon and he can help you, too,” he added.

She laughed in disbelief. “Jairon won’t help me. He hates me.”

“No,” Lorsen said, “he’s just angry right now because you put everything he’s been working toward in jeopardy. He’ll calm down.”

“Right,” Sheyra sighed. “If I leave now you can tell the Enforcer’s I stopped in a for a drink and left.”

“They’ll question why we didn’t report you,” he said.

“Then report me when I leave,” she shrugged. “Tell them I threatened you.”

Lorsen shook his head. “I can't do that, not after everything you've done. Come back inside,” he pleaded.

She desperately wanted to believe him, which was enough to convince her to turn off the engine. If he was wrong she could still leave. She hoped he was right.

Sheyra followed Lorsen back into The Seafarer's Lodge. The sailors stared at her through drunken eyes. If they weren't suspicious before then they would be now, she was sure. Jairon remained in his seat and didn't turn to look at her.

“Now listen,” Lorsen pointed his finger at the younger man, his hand trembling. “You promised to help us in the summer, and still we sit here waiting. Sheyra appears one day and the next she's already kept more than her promise of helping out Lineya. I'm starting to think you're a fraud, you here me.”

Jairon's eyebrows lifted in surprise; Lorsen must never have spoken his mind before. “Hey, I'm doing the best I can with what I have.”

“Then it's got to be better. It's got to be today.” The barman crossed his arms over his chest.

Sheyra bit her bottom lip, eyes wide. She hadn't expected this reaction. Showing a little compassion to a single child went a long way.

“Fine,” Jairon growled. “Not like we have much choice now, thanks to you.”

“Don't blame me,” Sheyra said. “Blame the real enemy.”

He glared at her but didn't respond. Instead he glanced at the patrons. “Find a way to get rid of them and meet me at the designated place.”

Sheyra's heart raced. This was it. It wasn't as she'd expected but it was even better. Instead of weeks of waiting she had found the Resistance in a single day. Part of her wondered if Impyra had used her power to grant her luck.

* * *

Xander rode the elevator to his father's office, both surprised and annoyed at the announcement that Garinsith had completed his preparations. He had hoped that the Master Keeper would fail, Ka Harn would lose his patience, and they would all be thrown out into the streets. Once again, Xander was denied his wish.

Everyone was assembled when he arrived. The intense eyes of the Mutilators followed him as he strode across the room to stand beside his father's desk. Garinsith was seated. He smiled at the prince mockingly.

“Very good,” he said, rising to his feet. “The guest of honor has arrived.”

Xander frowned. “When are we leaving?” He wasn't interested in playing games.

“Before first light, Your Highness,” the old man said.

He motioned to Tyn. The Mutilator bent to lift a previously unnoticed cloth from an item on the floor. It was an old sword. Xander's eyes locked on the thing. There was something oddly familiar about it, but he could not remember where he may have seen it before. Tyn lifted it from the floor and handed it to the prince.

Taking the hilt in hand Xander felt the room darken. The hunger he carried in his heart for Impyra's blood immediately intensified. A clear image of her kneeling before him filled his vision.

“Xander, please, I'm sorry. Please! I beg you! Stop! No!”

Her blood was his blood.

“The sword will negate her ability to use her power against us. At the same time, it will act as a beacon to lead us toward her. Xander must be the wielder of the blade as he was the most intimately connected with her.” Garinsith's explanation was far away.

“Isn't that a sword from the Gallery?” Ka Harn's voice was lifeless.

Xander turned his eyes toward his father, who was nothing more than a corpse standing at his desk. The prince felt his heart quicken.

Yes.
 Was that his own thought or something else?

He shook his head. Around him the light brightened and he winced at the sudden change.

“I know I should have asked your permission, but we are short on time.” Garinsith's lies were thinly veiled. He did not ask because he did not believe it necessary. “If you don’t mind I find it more appropriate we rename the blade to the Seeker.”

Yes. We are the Seeker. 
Xander felt the sword’s delight and desire to be rejuvenated. How was that possible?

“If it puts an end to this mess I’ll forgive it,” Ka Harn said, wanting to avoid confrontation as usual.

He’s Weak.

“First you must investigate the reports of possible activity in Ro'Awnor-Clee.”

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Garinsith bowed.

No. We must have blood.

Xander felt as if he were moving through a dream. “They are not there,” he said, his voice sounding far away from his mind. “Send local Enforcers to deal with that situation, we must follow her to Renenook.”

Ka Harn was surprised by his son’s reasoning. “What if they separated?” he asked.

“With the blizzard we will be unable to fly,” Xander continued. “We will need to travel by ship. Have the navy prepare the fastest vessel. We will also need ground transport suitable for the weather when we arrive.”

Xander could feel Garinsith smile. There was pride in his grin, as well as arrogance. The prince’s new awareness of the Master Keeper’s emotions was somewhat disturbing. The sword did not care. He knew she was not in Ro'Awnor-Clee. He could feel her energy stretching out to him, connecting to his body as if by a thread. This single silver line was traveling north and west across the Darna Waters.

Xander was forced to concede that the Master Keeper was correct in his statement that she would not be able to hide.

* * *

An EOV drove slowly up the street, stopping in front of the battered old tavern. For years the place had been notorious for the usual problems; bar fights, noise, and accidental death by alcohol poisoning. After the plague things calmed down a little, attributed to the new employees and the loss of some of the more aggressive drunks to illness. In retrospect, housing traitors would be a good reason to lower a business's dealings with the law.

Two Enforcers stepped out in full armor, White Energy guns ready. The windows were dark for a midafternoon and the door was locked. One of them kicked it in while his partner offered cover.

“Come out with your hands up!” the first Enforcer bellowed into the seemingly empty tavern.

There was no response.

Sweeping the room, they found nothing amiss. There was no barman, no customers sat at the tables. Moving together they checked the kitchen. Empty. They relaxed a little.

“What do you think?”

“They must have run.”

“Hostages?”

The Enforcer shrugged, “Possible, but doubtful.”

They stared at each other in agreement.

Lifting his radio, the first Enforcer called in to the alternate unit which was checking the general store. “Seafarer's Lodge is negative. We've got nothing here, do you read?”

“
Copy that,”
 radio crackled in response. “
General store is also negative.”

The Enforcers looked at each other. They were going to have to search the town, send out patrols beyond the town. The traitors could be anywhere.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The snow crunched beneath Winifred’s feet, the cold biting through the thin fabric of her clothing. Winter was never so frigid in Sa’Toret-Ekar; not since the time of her ancestors. That in itself was troublesome, speaking of something far more sinister than bad weather.

With a thought, she filled her body with internal warmth. Magic may protect her from the elements, her charges, however; would not survive. Supplies were needed.

They stopped in the last village before Na’Effilan Forest. It was little more than a collection of houses around a lumber mill. There was a small general store. The hope of purchasing warmer clothes, blankets, and food was quickly dashed upon exiting the vehicle.

An eerie silence was broken only by the sound of snowflakes touching the ground. Bitterness in the energy made her grimace. The air was heavy with sickness and death. Just within her perception was another sensation as well; a similar darkness to the shadow they witnessed running across the road.

“Wait here,” she said to Mikal, who was watching her from the driver’s seat. “Everyone wait in the van.” She closed the door, resting her palm on the icy metal. “Let no malice enter here,” she whispered, sending a quick pulse of energy through the machine.

Wading through the snowdrifts she allowed the energy to guide her where her other senses would be of no use. The village appeared abandoned. The snow remained undisturbed on the road and the walkways. Vehicles were completely buried. No animals disturbed the quiet.

Wini approached the first house. Peering through the dark window she could see a kitchen table sitting alone in the shadows. Despite the empty appearance, she could feel life within; a thin line of breath barely holding on to the edge of existence.

Trying the front door, it swung open with ease. She stepped inside. Standing still she watched her breath plume in the air. Even in the cold the heavy stink of uncontrolled illness clung to her, turning her stomach. Moving quietly, she surrounded herself with soothing calm to prevent the occupants from being alarmed at her presence.

She followed the energy to a room near the end of a narrow corridor and paused in the doorway. Two forms huddled beneath heavy blankets on a rickety bed. They did not react as she entered the room.

“Do not be afraid,” Wini said calmly. “I’m here to help you.”

There was no response.

She carefully pulled back the blankets and caught her breath. Her eyes began to water as the odor of decay wafted up to embrace her. A woman weakly raised her head, hissing at the intrusion. Her skin was ashen and her eyes glowed red. Her limp, greasy hair stuck to the pillow. A large clump detached itself from her head as she moved.

Beside her, a man lay dead and rotting. The woman clung to him desperately. Both of their bodies were covered in bite marks, and his arms were missing flesh in multiple places. They must have been attempting to consume their own meat for survival.

Winifred blinked away tears. The woman’s face contorted into a snarl. Wini could see where her natural teeth and fallen away and new fangs were growing. There was more to the condition of the villagers than the ravages of the Senna plague.

Raising her hand, palm out and fingers spread, Wini knew what must be done.

“
Mercy
,” she commanded, her voice booming through the small house.

The woman’s eyes grew wide before the life left them completely. Her head collapsed onto the pillow. Wini covered the corpses and backed out of the room. She leaned against the corridor wall, holding back the urge to sob uncontrollably.

The plagued shall rise, 
her mother’s voice whispered to her from across the chasm of time.

Turning her head, Wini examined the closed door of the next room. She dreaded the thought of opening it, but knew she must. The village must be cleansed.

Pushing the door open she saw a small body on a small bed. The child’s life had long since left, but she must cast the protective spells to prevent further evil from taking root. Raising her hand, she called for mercy for the small boy. The house shook to the foundation from the force of her emotion.

Unable to do more, Winifred went back out the way she had come, sealing the structure with a protective spell. Tears streamed down her cheeks, freezing on her skin as she walked. It would take too long to investigate each house individually. She must protect the living. It was time to throw off her guise as a simple old woman and take her true place in the world.

When Petor had turned against his people, dragging her brother along on his wild crusade of domination, she feared the day would come when she alone would stand in defense of the meek. In the darkness she would be the only light. Throughout the years she watched for the signs, cultivating her hospital and knowing it was not enough. To see her fears realized was heartbreaking.

Resolved to remain steady to her charges, she would not lose hope. Impyra may be the Balance. If that were true Syerset would call to her, initiating change. Winifred must prepare the support systems put in place by her people centuries ago.

Wading through the snow to the center of town, she stopped in the middle of the road. Breathing deeply, Winifred raised her arms to shoulder height. Lifting her face to the clouded sky she pulled energy toward her from the air, the earth, and the falling snow. It had been many years since she’d last used her full strength. There was not a doubt in her mind of her own ability.

The wind began to blow, swirling around her feet to form a cyclone. Her hair caught free from the long braid hanging down her back. Faster and farther the wind churned, shaking the houses as it engulfed the buildings. From outside the tempest she felt dark energy pressing against the edges of her mind. Wini was strong, however; and bathed in the tranquil power of serenity.

“By the grace of the Light; 
Deller-Brenth
, I plead for your aid!” The ground trembled at the force of her words. “Grant mercy to the souls entombed here; I sanctify this ground in your Holy Name!”

Abruptly, the wind stopped. Snow hung in the hair, crystalline and pure. Light pierced the clouds above, bathing the village in pure white brilliance. A shadow lurked beyond the circle of power. The hulking figure lacked substance. It was not yet powerful enough to contend with one such as Winifred. Her heart quickened, but her courage remained. She would not be intimidated by minions of evil.

“
Y’em en kelar’if Selaise’Akar, ye’eln nekt iletrea keath!” 
She commanded in the language of her birth.

Intensified by the Light, Winifred's words were both sword and shield as they drove the darkness away. All of the windows along the street were shattered, the ring glass raining onto the ground echoed within the cyclone. Fleeing from the Light, the shadow faded. Wini felt it withdraw, releasing its hold on the village. With the seal complete, she lowered her arms. The levitating snow fell in heaps to the ground with a hushed thud.

Cold air rushed in to gnaw at her bones. Wini staggered forward as the world tilted. She was not a young woman any more, she remembered.

Steadying herself, the dizziness subsided. She returned to the van, climbing wearily back into the seat. Inside, her charges were pressed against the windows, eyes wide and faces frozen in awe. Wini blushed.

“It’s safe now,” she said casually.

“What?” Mikal asked, confused.

“Everyone died of the plague,” she spoke quietly. “We will take what we can from the store. Warmer clothes, blankets, food, medicine, anything you can grab. Drive up close so that you’re not walking in the cold. I must rest.”

Wini closed her eyes, resting her head on the seat. Everyone continued to stare, motionless. Opening one eye she glanced at Mikal. He jumped in his seat and started the engine.

“I will explain everything once we arrive in Rau’Tesche-Akar,” she promised.

* * *

Outside the Tower the blizzard showed no sign of stopping. With the celebration ended the nobility decided to remain in an attempt to wait out the storm. Ky Thella took the opportunity to continue playing the gracious hostess, offering entertainment to stave off boredom. As usual, clinging to tradition offered up a variety of options to amuse the entrenched lords and ladies.

First among the planned activities was a luncheon to celebrate the engagement of Ky Gleyth and Fei Arentey. Not only did it draw the guests from the solitude of their apartments, it also offered the new couple a chance at becoming acquainted in an acceptable environment. The parlor was transformed into a small dining room with tables adorned in white linens, silver platters, and delicate white tea cups.

Gleyth was seated beside Arentey. Joining them at the table was his father Fa Marden, her mother, sisters, and baby brother. The guests in attendance were primarily female, their husbands choosing alternate entertainment.

Fa Marden, a barrel chested man with an impressive mustache adorning his face, was out of place sipping tea and nibbling on finger sandwiches. He endured the event without a hint of annoyance. Arentey's mother, Fy Eleyn, was lost many years prior to illness. Fa Marden never remarried, making his presence necessary at functions traditionally set aside for his wife.

Gleyth felt an odd sense of kinship with the man as he awkwardly fumbled with his teacup. Although an outsider would have thought she belonged in the throng of chattering ladies, she truly felt as out of place as he appeared. She knew it was important to take the chance to get to know her betrothed but she found herself at a loss for topics of conversation. Her mind continued to wander back to the evening before.

Memories of Kevie's fingers brushing against her hand filled her with excitement and confusion. His green eyes continued to invade her thoughts regardless of how firmly she pushed them away. Logic told her that she had only known him for two days. Her reaction to his attention was unreasonable. He was nothing more than a glorified Enforcer. She was being foolish to consider him as anything more than a guest.

Gleyth’s inattention put the burden of conversation on her mother. The princess was not listening to the questions being asked of the young lord. She was roused from her reverie when Arentey turned to her with an anxious expression.

“I must apologize, Ky Gleyth,” he said.

“Apologize?” she was taken aback.

“I do believe I offended you during our first dance. You rushed away from the celebration last night and did not return. I do not wish to begin our relationship with bad feelings.” He placed his hand on his chest, bowing his head respectfully.

Gleyth blushed. The sincerity and kindness in his voice embarrassed her for her own behavior. Perhaps she did not choose the marriage being forced upon her, but it was not Arentey's fault. He was shackled by tradition as much as she, even if his chains were not nearly as tight.

“There is nothing for you to apologize for, Fei Arentey. I was feeling ill, nothing more.”

“I'm glad to hear it,” He appeared genuinely relieved.

Gleyth took the opportunity to test the waters of his mind.  “It has been a rather difficult time for us here in Empire Tower, with the plague and the decline in economy outside our walls.”

“Yes,” Arentey agreed. “I understand. It must be difficult to sit in the heart of the problem with no clear means of solutions.”

“Indeed,” Perhaps he understood.

“It is a shame the escape of the slaves marred your celebration. I do have faith that your father and brother will bring a swift end to that particular dilemma, at least.”  

Gleyth pushed a little farther. “It is unfortunate that current precepts allowed the situation at all,” she said cautiously. “I do not wish to speak ill of my brother, but he was not kind to the girl.”

Arentey did not respond.

“I do imagine if he had been she would not have fled,” Gleyth continued.

All eyes at the table were on her. She felt the heat rising to her cheeks.

“Let us not speak of unpleasantness on such a lovely day, Gleyth,” Thella reminded her gently.

“All I'm saying is that small changes in policy can often bring large improvements to the populace as a whole, including the slaves.” It was too late now; she'd fully revealed herself as more than an ornament to hang from a young man's arm.  

Fei Arentey cleared his throat uneasily. He stared into his plate. Fa Marden gave his future daughter-in-law an annoyed look. Thella continued to smile but it did not reach her eyes. She silently pleaded with Gleyth to change the subject. The princess felt her heart sink.

Fei Arentey may be kinder than her brother but his politics were not any different. She wondered how many concubines he might have in Rau'Tesche-Enra.

When Gleyth did not further the discussion, Thella attempted a rescue. “It must have been difficult all of these years without a woman in your Tower,” she said, engaging Fa Marden. “Raising a child on your own must have been a challenge.”

The large man grunted, brushing crumbs from his mustache. “Yes, well, it was quite difficult at times. I had nannies, of course, and tutors. There was always someone capable of handling the boy when I was not available.”

“Still, it must have been lonely without a wife. I'm surprised you never remarried,” the Queen mused.