To Darkness Fled (6 page)
Authors: Jill Williamson
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Christian
"Didn't mean to. They floated into my head."
"Well, stop it. You do not belong in my head."
"But you were talking to your mother. Your
dead
mother?"
Sparrow scratched his ear. "S-Sometimes I still t-talk to her, even though she passed on. Especially when, um...when I am scared."
"Touching, Sparrow. My heart weeps for your tragic loss. Yet I can't help but wonder how a dead woman can
answer.
For I heard her myself, and I know I've heard her before. She's very much alive. And a woman so gifted in bloodvoicing must be known to someone. Save me the trouble of asking around and tell me the truth."
Sparrow said nothing.
Achan pushed back a stiff branch until it snapped. He wanted to turn and pounce on Sparrow, wrestle the truth from him. He'd been deceived for so long, he wasn't about to allow anyone to deceive him again. Besides, the boy avoided conflict like Achan avoided a bath. It wouldn't take much to scare the truth from him.
No. Achan would wait and consult Sir Gavin. If Sparrow was up to trouble, Sir Gavin would know what to do.
They hiked a brisk pace for hours. The torches helped. But it was maddening to travel so far without seeing the sun or moon. Achan's feet screamed as much as his mind. What time of day might it be in Sitna? What might Gren be doing?
His chest tightened. Gren, his childhood friend back in Sitna, had suffered an arranged married to Riga Hoff, the lazy son of a merchant. A month had not yet passed since their wedding. Not much could have changed, unless... Achan squeezed his hands into fists. If Riga harmed Gren in any way, he'd forever regret it.
Another pretty face drifted into his mind: Lady Tara Livna of Tsaftown. Unless something went wrong, he'd see Lady Tara soon enough. How much Tara looked like the goddess Cetheria. A crown of ivory braids. Eyes bluer than forget-me-nots. Achan smiled, recalling her beauty and spunk.
He looked into her eyes as if she stood before him. The gemlike sparkle of her gaze drenched him in awe. Her skin was gold leaf. She held a spear, which she drew back and lobbed at his chest. It pierced his flesh, jolting his heart. He stared at it, gasping, dumfounded to find himself still standing. He grabbed the shaft with two hands and pulled. It wouldn't budge.
Lady Tara giggled, her voice like a musical brook. She sauntered toward him and ran her fingertips along the spear.
"Shall I free you?"
Pain shot through Achan's shoulder. He blinked. Darkness surrounded him, lit by the faint orange glow of firelight. Where was he? Had that been a dream?
The rope at Achan's waist tugged, pulling him tighter against a hard surface. He reached out and found a fat, sticky tree. He was in Darkness with the knights, running from Esek.
Sir Gavin called out from the circle of torchlight, "All right back there?"
"Are you hurt, Achan?" Sparrow's voice. Behind him.
"Uh..." Achan stepped around the protruding tree. "There's a tree here, Sparrow. Watch yourself."
"Just a tree, Sir Gavin," Sparrow yelled and the rope tugged Achan along again.
Sir Gavin Whitewolf.
Achan perked up. Sir Gavin was knocking, wanting to bloodvoice. Achan concentrated on opening the door like he'd done last night, allowing only Sir Gavin inside.
Would he know if he succeeded? He wanted to tell Sir Gavin about Cetheria--no, that had been Lady Tara, hadn't it?
Achan
, Sir Gavin said.
Don't answer, simply listen. 'Tis vital you learn to bloodvoice straight away. I've no doubt you'll succeed. Our connection now is perfect. You've opened your mind only to me. I can sense your shields. Now you must learn to speak without dropping your shields. Duplicate yourself, like Caleb's guard explanation, leaving a man to guard your mind. Let the other speak. Cough if you understand.
Cough? Why the secrecy? Did Sir Gavin suspect someone? Sparrow perhaps? Achan considered the little fox on his heels and coughed.
Good. Now do as I described.
Achan took a deep breath. He imagined himself standing sentry before the door to his mind, Eagan's Elk raised, ready to defend. He pictured himself stepping to the side. Instead of the guard Achan moving, another Achan stepped out of the first. The two stood side by side in his mind, looking at one another.
Go on, then
, the first Achan said to the second.
I've got this.
Achan smiled. He always had been a quick learner.
Twice before, Achan had passed through one mind and into another. Sparrow called it jumping. Achan had jumped through Sparrow to see Macoun Hadar speak with Lord Nathak. Then, when the Council of Seven had gone to deliberate as to who would be king, Achan jumped through Sir Gavin to watch the debate through Prince Oren's eyes.
Both times, Sparrow and Sir Gavin had been watching already. Achan had merely touched them, used their energy, cheated really, like peeking over their shoulder to use what they had already accomplished.
This time he'd need to use his own strength. He hoped he wouldn't faint as Sparrow often did. Concentrating on Sir Gavin, the second Achan ventured out.
Achan now walked at the front of the line, staring out through Sir Gavin's eyes into the black void beyond, arm holding a burning torch above his head, dodging the occasional slimy, black branch. Sir Gavin's pack and shield hung heavy over his aching shoulders. The rope at his waist jerked, forcing him to stop.
"Gavin!" Sir Caleb shouted from behind.
Wait. Hadn't Sir Caleb been ahead of him?
"Aye?" Sir Gavin wheeled around, looking back to Sir Caleb, who stood over a body.
Achan's body.
"Achan's fallen. Fainted or something."
Achan wheezed, the sour smell of the forest overwhelming. He lay on the wet soil. His elbow stung. His hip too. He rolled onto his knees. Sparrow, Inko, and Sir Caleb stood over him, faces shadowed in the flickering torchlight.
Sir Gavin cut between Inko and Sparrow, torch wavering in his hand. "What happened?"
Achan rubbed his elbow. "I reached out, but forgot I was walking."
Sir Gavin burst into deep laughter. "No, Achan. That's not how to message. You were watching. Never watch and walk at the same time. Forgive me. Save yourself more bruises and we'll try again once we've stopped."
No one asked any questions, thankfully. Achan had never fainted--not without the aid of a wound or tonic, anyway. It seemed weak. He hoped Sir Gavin could explain what he'd done wrong so it would never happen again.
Another thought shifted to the forefront of his mind. "Sir Gavin, I also saw Cetheria. She stabbed me, but I didn't die."
"Saw her where?" The knight reached out his hand.
Achan gripped his wrist and pulled himself up. His elbow throbbed. He must have scraped it when he fell. "Last time, when we stopped. Before I hit the tree. She stabbed me in the chest."
"Already it is happening, Gavin. I have been feeling my mind to be wandering also. We should be turning back, going to Light as fast as our legs can be carrying us."
"We are not going back, Inko. Achan, I want you to open your mind, like you did before, shields up, open to me. Then I want you to include everyone here. Do it now."
Achan repeated the process of duplicating himself to guard his mind. He looked from face to face and felt a connection tug in his mind.
Good,
Sir Gavin said.
Now, we keep moving. Caleb, give us a little talk about Lord Falkson and Barth, so we all know who we are dealing with. Ask questions to see that no one is drifting.
Well, the people of Barth worship Barthos, god of the earth...
With that, Sir Gavin turned and pulled them onward through the twisting black trees.
* * *
They made camp in a rocky area. Sir Gavin and Achan took first watch.
Achan settled onto a jagged boulder beside Sir Gavin. He looked up to the sky and noticed, for the first time, a variation in the blackness. A twisted stripe that was darker that the rest. A tree branch, perhaps? "How do you know the way?"
"I've always had a keen sense of smell." Sir Gavin put out the torch. Darkness sank over Achan like a shroud he couldn't lift. The knight chuckled softly. "Aw, that's not the full truth of it. I use my bloodvoice to share the senses of nearby beasts."
Achan recalled seeing through the bird's eyes. "You can do that?"
"I recall you did it once."
Achan tensed. "I did?" Had Sir Gavin known he'd been experimenting last night?
"When you killed your first deer."
"Ah." Achan shivered at the memory of sharing the doe's mind, tasting the bitterness of the tree bark it had been eating. It hadn't been a fair way to hunt. "Is that how you got your name?" Sir Gavin's stray surname was Lukos, after the big wolves that lived in the
"Sort of. I grew up in Tsaftown. We used sleds pulled by dogs to travel over snow. My lead dog was a wolf whose mother I'd killed when she attacked a friend. The pup hung around and I trained her. Chion. My white wolf. She was a good dog. Taught me much."
Achan thought of Dilly and Peg, the goats he'd tended in Sitna. He missed their companionship. "Where is she now?"
"Died years ago. I never replaced her."
Achan sensed a heavy grief that matched Sir Gavin's tone. He shifted his weight on the unforgiving rock. "How does sharing the animals' senses help you?"
"They are my eyes, nose, and ears here. I'm able to peek from one mind to another, using what I need to guide us. We follow an old road that once stretched from the south shore of the second Reshon Gate all the way to Mirrorstone. There the road divides: north across the sandbars to Melas and Allown Duchy or west across the rocky plains into Barth."
"So we're in Barth Duchy now?"
"We're in Nahar Duchy, in part of
"What other cities are in Barth Duchy?" Achan asked.
"Only Barth. Barthians keep to themselves as much as Magos or Cherem, though they have a treaty with Jaelport."
Achan would never sign a treaty with the Hamartano family, for he didn't trust them to keep it. Not that he had accepted his role in this king business. But trust would have to be earned before he made a treaty with anyone.
Sparrow flitted to the front of his thoughts. "Sir Gavin." Achan lowered his voice to a whisper. "I don't trust Sparrow."
"Vrell? Why ever not?"
"Trivial things, really, that add up to something amiss. Last night as I bedded down I overheard him crying, saying he 'couldn't do this anymore' and wanted to go home. Then, when the giants attacked, I overheard him bloodvoice his mother--and she bloodvoiced back. When I confronted him, he lied. And I know that woman spoke to me when I first found my bloodvoice."
"Most strange. But if Vrell can bloodvoice, 'tis logical one of his parents can."
"But he's a
stray
. He swears his parents are dead."
Sir Gavin inhaled a long breath through his nose, perhaps joined to a wild animal's mind as it hunted. "I'll talk to him."
Part 2
Enemies
6
Vrell stumbled over rocky soil. "Sir Gavin? Achan?" Where had they gone? She stretched out her hands, afraid of walking into a sharp branch. The darkness pressed against her skin, her very eyes. "Hello?"
"Here, my lady."
The familiar hiss of Khai Mageia's voice chased a chill up Vrell's arms. How had he found her? She stopped, turned, scanning the darkness for any hint of light.
A heavy hand grabbed her shoulder, and Khai's voice growled in her ear, "Surprise!"
Vrell sucked in a breath that reached to her toes. Her eyes flashed opened to reveal Sir Caleb's shaggy head bent over her.
"
Wh
-What? Is it Khai?"
"No. It's time to rise, Vrell. We must get moving."
Joyful heart! It was only another dream. Heart still pounding, Vrell rolled up her bed and set it and her satchel on the edge of camp. Keeping the torchlight in view, she crept away to her own private privy as the knights packed up.
Darkness sickened her. How many more twisted visions would stress her heart? Everything was dead, useless for food or medicinal purposes. And how long could she keep her secret without being caught? Achan already suspected her of lying. If she was not careful, he would suspect her of treason, as well. His animosity burned into her mind like standing too near a blazing fire. She hoped he would let his suspicions go. Though he would not make a very wise king if he did.
But maybe Achan had already acted on his suspicions. Yesterday, when he fell, it was clear Sir Gavin had been training him in bloodvoicing. Excluding Vrell. Did Sir Gavin distrust her? Did he want to keep her from learning the technique he had been teaching Achan?
She could see the logic, no matter how vexing. Had she been in Sir Gavin's boots, she would do the same. Who was she to them? A stray healer who had recently left the service of their enemy. Not exactly a person to trust. The tops of her ears tickled. She pressed her hands over them as her mother's knock came again.
Lady Nitsa Amal.
A tear rolled down Vrell's cheek. She held the curtain in place around her mind, keeping Mother blocked out. Oh, how she wanted to tell Mother everything. But Achan had overheard them last night. Uncertain whether it had been Vrell's error or Achan's strength, she could not risk it again.
She relieved herself as quickly as possible, holding her breath and trembling, keeping her vision locked onto the torch glow back at camp. She finished and started back, squeezing between two pitchy branches.
Why not confess? Certainly they would understand. Achan respected Bran and would likely be honored to watch over his friend's betrothed. But so many had lied to Achan, tricked him, used him. She could not bear Achan thinking ill of her, even for a moment.
Yet he thought ill of her now. An explanation might clear everything up.
No. She wiped the tear away. Achan suspected Vrell Sparrow, the nearly fifteen-year-old stray boy who did not exist. He knew nothing of Lady Averella Amal, the seventeen-year-old woman in hiding, and it would stay that way. If Lady Averella ever met Achan, it would be under vastly different circumstances.
Her ears tickled again.
Lady Nitsa Amal.
A twig snapped behind Vrell. She whirled around. How she hated this horrible place! The idea of creatures she could not see lurking...
Crack.
Vrell froze, straining to hear further noise. Something
was
out there.
Not caring what branches scratched her, she ran back to the rocky clearing. Sir Gavin hoisted Inko's pack up over the Barthian's shoulders. Achan stood gaping at Sir Caleb, who was showing off with his sword and shield.
Vrell considered mentioning the sound, but a sudden green spark flew over her head and stopped above the clearing, swelling into a glowing orb.
Achan drew his sword and held it before his face.
"Circle up!" Sir Gavin backed into the clearing, eyes fixed on the trees.
The urgency in the old knight's voice trilled Vrell's heart. More
ebens
? Or could this be another illusion Darkness conjured to snare her?
Sir Caleb pulled Achan between him and Sir Gavin and lifted his blade toward the forest. Inko shrugged off his pack and bow. A second and third orb shot out from the trees. The three knights turned their backs to Achan, blocking him in.
"Boy!" Inko waved Vrell forward as two more sparks flew above her head. She scurried toward the men. Inko pulled her inside with Achan.
The orbs formed a wide circle overhead, hovering and lighting the rocky clearing with a green glow.
"What is it?" Achan asked.
Inko drew his sword. "Sakin Magos."
But Sir Gavin's translation meant more to Vrell. "Black knights."
She sucked in a sharp breath. Her father had spoken of such mages when she was little. In fact, it was rumored at court that Sir Nongo--
A knight clad in black armor stalked out from the forest and stopped under one of the eerie orbs. Another knight advanced, identical to the first. Vrell clutched Achan's arm and twisted around to see five knights circling them, each standing under an orb.
Achan squeezed between Inko and Sir Caleb and raised
Vrell's hand flitted around her waist until it landed on the hilt of her sword. She had owned the weapon for only two days and had no idea how to use it. Still, the pointed piece of metal was better than nothing.
"Be wary of their appearance." Sir Gavin rocked from foot to foot. "They can be both illusion and solid."
Impressive illusion. The green light cast a sinister glow over the black armor. It had the dreamlike quality of some of Vrell's nightmares, but none of those had lasted this long before switching streams. This had to be a real attack.
"We are coming only for the marked one," one of the knights said in a thick accent. Barthian? "We are having no quarrel with any other."
"If you take our prince, you start a quarrel," Sir Caleb said. "So we might as well save ourselves time in chasing you down and fight now."
The black knight drew his sword. "Then be letting us fight."
An oily voice from Vrell's left yelled, "Phaino
takmak
!"
A gowzal's cry split the night. A green speck flew from one of the orbs and swelled, taking the shape of the flying rat bird and soaring toward Sir Gavin.
"Ignore it!" Sir Gavin shouted.
The black knights advanced. Five against three, they were evenly matched only if she and Achan fought. Achan had already made his choice--he could certainly hold his own. But Vrell did not know what to do.
The glowing gowzal soared into the cluster of Old Kingsguards, through Sir Gavin and through Vrell's torso. She yelled but felt nothing. An illusion?
Swords clashed around her. Sir Caleb screamed a battle cry. Inko grunted. The black knights drew back slowly, pulling the Old Kingsguardsmen away, exposing Vrell. Before her, Inko fought a black knight whose helmet covered half his face, allowing his short, coiled, black beard to hang free. To her right, Sir Gavin fought a man with a similar beard. Sir Caleb, sword in one hand, shield in the other, fought two more bearded black knights. Her eyes widened as Sir Caleb swung his shield and stabbed his blade. He pushed his opponents back, but his movement left a wide gap in Vrell's sanctuary.
The fifth knight stalked between Sir Gavin's opponent and one of Sir Caleb's, as if invisible to all but Vrell. Dressed differently from the others, he wore black plate armor and a full helmet. The flat-topped, black cylinder had a scalloped crown and ribbed metal wings over each ear. Dark eyes glared through a slotted visor. A gowzal's head was stain-engraved in silver onto his breastplate.
Vrell clutched Achan's sleeve with a shaky hand. He pushed her behind him, eyes locked on the menacing knight, hilt gripped with both hands, rocking slightly from one foot to the other. Vrell squatted, holding her breath and cringing as blades clashed around her.
The black knight darted in at Achan with a small jab, which Achan deflected easily. The knight inched back. Achan stepped toward him.
The knight slowly drew Achan away. Bit by bit, the pair turned, until Achan faced Vrell. Only then did the black knight press forward.
"Don't let him drive you into the trees!" Sir Caleb yelled.
Achan swung his blade as if each stroke meant life or death, growling like a cougar. He stifled a cut from high guard with the flat of his blade, which brought him close to the knight, their weapons locked above their heads.
Achan yelled and kneed the knight in his engraved breastplate. The knight stumbled back a step. Achan seized that moment to ram his shoulder into his opponent.
They tumbled to the ground, rolling about as if wrestling. The black knight's armor grated against the rocks.
Achan came to the top and tore off one of the knight's gauntlets. The knight punched Achan's cheek with his other, still armored, hand. Achan screamed and bashed the empty gauntlet against the knight's helmet. The knight struck Achan in the face again and Achan fell back.
A sick thud and a grunt drew Vrell away from Achan. Inko staggered back, gripping his head in one hand, his sword arm drooping. Plum-sized rocks flew up and whacked him like raindrops from below. Inko's head lolled back and he slumped to the ground.
Inko's attacker turned to stare at Vrell, then raised his sword. She stifled a scream and crawled backward. Three stones hovered behind her attacker's head. The black knight's coiled beard shifted, revealing a set of grimy, sneering teeth.
Memories of her father training his guard flitted through her mind.
Never be caught on your knees
, he had told the young trainees time and again. Vrell stood and lifted her weapon in trembling hands.
The black knight advanced, laughing, and flicked one finger forward.
One of the stones soared toward Vrell as if thrown. She lifted her sword to block but missed. The rock struck her shoulder.
The other two rocks zinged forward. Vrell ducked, but the rocks changed course and pelted her ear and temple. Gritting her teeth at the pain, she squeezed her sword and charged. The black knight stepped aside, causing Vrell to stumble. She spun around only to be hit in the forearm by another rock.
The knight swung at Vrell's neck. Vrell lifted her sword to block. The weapons met with a clang, sparing her death but knocking her sword away. It clattered to the rocks and left her fingers throbbing.
Oh, she wished Jax mi Katt, her giant friend, had given her even one lesson.
The black knight pursed his lips and blew. A ribbon of green light spewed from his mouth and flowed toward Vrell. She backpedaled, looking for her sword. It had landed several paces away, behind Sir Gavin and his opponent.
The light curled around her waist as if to hook her. She froze, waiting to see if it had done anything, but the ribbon of light continued to snake round her like coiling twine. Another rock shot toward Vrell. She lifted her hands to block her face, and the stone clipped her knuckles. She cried out.
"The light is only being an illusion, boy. Don't be giving in to it." Inko struggled to a sitting position.
Vrell broke through the green strands and sprinted toward her sword, but the black knight cut off her path. Just as another rock rose between them, one clunked off the back of the knight's helmet.
"Hey!" Achan pitched a rock. "You only fight little boys or what?" His first attacker writhed on the ground behind him, the visor of his helmet dented into his eyes.
Blood and dirt covered one side of Achan's face and his tangled hair hung loose. He raised his sword like he wasn't the least bit winded.
Vrell released a shaky sigh as the knight approached Achan. She marveled at Achan's confidence. At sixteen--nearly two years her junior--Achan considered himself the man and Vrell the scrawny boy.
Sir Gavin and Sir Caleb were still fighting, but now Sir Gavin fought two opponents and Sir Caleb fought one. Sir Caleb plunged his sword into the torso of his attacker, and the black knight vanished in a puff of green smoke. Only an ebony gowzal remained once the smoke cleared. It squawked and flew over Sir Caleb's head. Sir Caleb crouched, watching the bird, waiting with his blade beside the edge of his shield. The black knight reappeared behind him, and Sir Caleb spun around in time to block the knight's blade with his shield.
