Chapter 17
Varlet Minna lay in bed and listened to the caravaneers preparing for their trip back home. They had started at least a bell before dawn, and it was not until midmorning that their noise no longer littered the summer morning air. Her bed was her prison; getting up and walking around could signal the guard outside her door that she was awake. They might wonder why she did not rouse her servants, knowing as she did that they were to leave with the caravan.
“Damn!” The curse came from Cadlius’s room. “Damn!” The Guard could not help but hear that, but Cadlius added rumblings of furniture moving a clattering of armor and weapons that sounded like he was tearing his room apart. He opened his door into the hall. “Jeffers!” he shouted. Then, to the Guard, he said, “Get Jeffers out of bed. Damn, we should have been out of here two bells ago.”
Minna got up to make a too-long delayed use of her chamber pot. Hastily throwing on her Inn’s robe, she knocked softly on the door to Cadlius room. With heavy strides, Cadlius reached the door and threw it open. “How long have you been awake?” he snarled; the door from his room into the hall was still open a crack. Then he paused; “My pardons, m’lady.”
“Your shouting and throwing things about is what woke me up,” Minna answered, watching the doorway. She felt a twisting in her stomach that tempted her to close the door and return to her chamber pot. “Can I help?”
“If you would please, Terrence should have something she can throw in a sack for us to take along. We’ll be having our breakfast on the trail.”
“No doubt the caravaneers have taken everything worth eating,” Minna said, moving to her door.
With the caravan gone, Minna expected to find herself alone in the huge building once again. There were over a dozen people at the tables even at this late bell.”
“Looks like we’re not the only ones to miss the caravan,” she said to the boy standing guard over the kegs lined up behind the bar. The worker bowed deeply when Minna approached, said nothing, and kept his eyes on the floor until the Varlet told him that he may rise.
“They’re staying,” the boy said. “They’re here to see the execution; it isn’t often that we get one. People will be coming from miles; good business for merchants who have stayed to work the crowd.”
“Oh,” said the Varlet, her mood suddenly dampened. “Well. my escort is not staying for the execution. They weren’t supposed to stay past first bell, but they seem to have overslept. Would Lady Terrence have something they can take with them and eat on the trail?”
“That will be easily done. More stayed then we expected; we prepared more food for the travelers than we needed.”
“I guess Sif is smiling on us today,” said Minna. She tried to keep the sound of sarcasm out of her voice but doubted her success. The boy offered no smile in return. He retreated into the kitchen, and returned all too quickly with a lumpy sack. “There’s bread in here, m’lady, and some cheese. It’s the best of the pick.”
“Thank you,” she said, taking the bag and digging into her pocket for a coin. Her hand came out with three silver coins. Though one would have easily covered the cost of the food, she dropped all three on the bar and left.
Cadlius was helping Jeffers into chain mail when Minna returned. Their packs lay stuffed on the beds. Packing in haste left no room for their heavier cloaks; they still hung on hooks by the door. She sat it on the bed and stood back while Cadlius rushed Jeffers into making mistakes; they had to start over with the armor.
Once dressed, they did not pause for goodbyes. Jeffers grabbed the food, Cadlius grabbed the cloaks from the peg, and the two men headed out the door at a trot. From the railing just outside her third-floor room, next to the Guardsman assigned to her, Minna watched them leave.
When Cadlius and Jeffers were out the door, she could not help but take a short stare at the Guardsman. This was not the one she would have to get tied up in her room. She wished it was. He was young; a boy, really, and not that much taller then she — though definitely better armed. When her stare started making him uneasy, she smiled and returned to her room. “I don’t think I’m going to be much in the mood for company today. If you could see to it I’m not disturbed, I would appreciate it,” she said.
With the door closed, she took a deep breath. The day ahead would seem endless; more so because she would have to keep herself isolated to prevent unintentionally alerting her captors. On her desk she placed a stack of paper, a bottle of ink, and a quill. They would be her alibi if anybody wondered how she was spending her day.
On the top of the first page she had written, “An Encounter with the Cult of Justice and Will.”
Below it she had written,”I am willing to grant any person the freedom to pay homage to whatever beings and forces they please. If they should want to choose their mates by the way the wandering stars are aligned on their date of birth, then that they may do. And if they should use their “lucky number” as they gamble, then I wish them luck. They will need it. But when the cult practices human sacrifice; often in the form of great suffering, and occasionally in the ritualistic taking of human life, they pass beyond the limits of tolerance. Herein lies the story of the time my freedom was offered as a human sacrifice upon an alter built to these mythical godlings, Justice and Will.”
But Minna was too nervous for the type of thought required in continuing her writing. She removed a short hardwood stick and a dagger from her drawer and began practicing the dances that Cadlius had taught her.
If she wanted anything, she asked the Guardsman for it, and asked that he bring it into her room, and smiled thankfully when he set the requested goods down and returned to his post outside the door. At seventh bell, she had her evening meal delivered. At eighth bell she grabbed her desk and dragged it from the wall. Noisily, she pushed and pulled it next to the doorway leading to the balcony. The work was hard; she opened her door a crack to allow the cool mountain breeze to drift through. “If I’m going to be here a while, I might as well make the room more to my liking,” she said to the Guardsman. It was her first look at the man who had drawn the night shift.
He was taller than the boy who was there that morning, and a little broader around the shoulders, but he was no older. He had a smile and a sparkle to his eyes when he managed the courage of looking at her that made Minna regret necessity’s cruel ways. He offered his help as she started struggling with the wardrobe; her tugging and pushing had sent it rocking dangerously. It was too early; the Varlet refused, saying, “Not yet, maybe when I wear myself down a bit.” She asked him his name; he was Corporal Akella.
Outside, the darkness grew. Needing a break, Minna spent a moment on the balcony. Above the mountain tops to the Northeast she found a box made up of four bright stars with two lines of stars contained within. Her people knew the constellation as The Huntress. Jeffers had identified it as Orion, the hunter; a strange coincidence Jeffers did not like. Minna drove off thoughts of Jeffers and returned to her work.
In the silence of a town settling down to sleep, none could miss the Church Bell except natives who had become too accustomed to its presence. It echoed off of the distant walls, signaling the time to people outside the walls as well as within. When the bell tolled ten times, gates fell closed, blocking the flow of power to mill and giving the lake an evening’s rest. Below, the wheels of the mill slowed and stopped, ending the hiss of saws and drumming of hammers. The streets filled with workers.
She closed the door to her room for as long as it took to slip her dagger into a loop she had sewn inside her cloak. Then she took hold of a corner of the bed and, with loud grunts, began to drag it across the floor. It was the only piece of furniture she had not yet moved, and a place waited for it between a pair of night stands on the opposite wall. Mattress, headboard, canopy, and frame combined to make a heavy piece of furniture. Part way across the floor, Minna gave up and collapsed, panting. “Guardsman Arkella, I’ve decided to accept your offer, could you come in here a moment?” she cried.
Nobody entered. Minna went to the door to invite him more politely. The man standing at the railing was not Arkella. He was taller, his hair was darker and showed a thin gray streaks at the temples couple of light-colored streaks that spoke of an older and more mature soldier. The soldier turned quickly and offered a deep, reverent bow.
“Cadlius!” Minna shouted, then caught herself. Whispering, she added, “What are you doing here?” She looked from his face to the garb of a Church Guardsman that he wore. It was too small for him; but since Guardsmen wore it as decoration over a rather plain chain armor, it’s misfit was not easily noticed.
Cadlius reached up to silence her, then pushed her into the room and closed the door. “You would not have made it out of here,m’Lady. Not that I doubt your abilities to take out the guard, but people would be suspicious if you left without a Guardsman three or four paces behind you. Jeffers requested that Sif grant him the power control another’s mind; it lasts only for a few seconds, but that was enough for me to pin him and toss him into Jeffers’ old room. He’s in there now, nursing a sore head and wrapped inside the mattress and every scrap of bedding we could find.”
“You were supposed to be gone! The Guards were supposed to watch you leave.”
“They did,” said Cadlius. “They don’t look as closely at those who came into town — particularly when those who enter look like commoners. Jeffers has already started back to the horses. We should hurry. I’ll be right behind you, making sure you’re not going to try to escape.”
A rumble entered the room through the open window; a sharp crack that echoed off of the cliffs that nearly surrounded the city.
Cadlius smiled. “Good, a storm. Even the weather is on our side.”
“Don’t start speaking of omens, Cadlius,” said Minna. She looked around at favored possessions she could not take with her, grabbed a light shawl fitting for a brief stroll about town, and left as a leisurely walk.
Descending the last step, Minna locked her vision directly in front of her feet. She wanted to meet nobody’s gaze, to see no call to visit or catch a questioning glance from a stranger.
Up the steps; one, two, three, four, five, then across the upper platform — five more paces — and she was out the door. A lantern illuminated the street around the exit. She drove herself forward until she entered the darkness on the other side of the street, where she collapsed against the building’s wall, her legs no longer wanting to hold her up, let alone carry her further.
Cadlius caught up to her. “Come, now, we had better hurry. This way.”
Minna hesitated. She stared towards the horizon, where the Huntress still watched over her. Almost straight above her, a half moon drowned out the light of nearby stars.
“I don’t think this is a good time for star gazing.” said Cadlius.
“We heard thunder. Where’s the storm?”
Another sound reached her, one much like thunder rolling in the distance, but getting closer. She glanced up the street; moonlight glittered off of the armor of two mounted Guardsmen coming at a gallop.
“Something’s wrong,” said Minna.
“Go!” Cadlius commanded in a whispered shout, pushing Minna further into the shadows. “Straight down this street, and don’t stop for anything.”
Within a block, Cadlius took the lead, directing Minna through alleys that kept them in shadows. When they had to enter streets, they walked. In the alleys, they ran. The darkness made it difficult to avoid the refuse piled between buildings; they bumped against barrels and slipped on rats that got underfoot.
The sound of the Temple Bell gave Minna a start.
“That’s enough playing casual,” Cadlius said. He took her hand and, nearly dragging her, started down the street at a run.
She saw nobody, and she could only hope that nobody had seen them. Cadlius dragged her into an alley between two large warehouses. A couple dozen feet from the far end of the alley stood K’non’s city wall. Cadlius reached behind a line of barrels and pulled out a plank. Boards fastened across the plank made it suitable for climbing. From a barrel he removed a mattress and a rope.
Minna took a look out of the alley and found two guards coming up at a walk. One had a crossbow cocked and loaded and peered closely into every shadow. The held his sword.
“We can’t wait,” Cadlius said.
“We surrender?” Minna asked.
“No,” Cadlius answered, “When you get to the top of the wall, drop the loop in the rope over one of the spikes and then lay the mattress over the top.” He drew his sword, and with a grin charged the two soldiers.
“Wait!” Minna shouted; knowing as she did that it was too late.
Cadlius kept to the shadows as long as possible, then stepped out with his sword drawn. He charged the Guards.
One Guard fired his crossbow. Cadlius easily dodged the shot. The Guard with the sword let out a whistle, while his partner dropped the crossbow and drew a sword. Together, they met Cadlius.
The plank, mattress, and rope were an awkward set to carry. She glanced over her shoulder as she got the plank up against the wall; Cadlius was struggling to keep himself between the two Guardsmen and her. With the mattress over one shoulder and the rope over the other, she climbed. She dropped the loop of rope over a spike and tossed the rest down the far side of the wall, then laid down her mattress. Reaching for the rope, she pulled herself over the top. As she started down she could not help but see Cadlius. He had openings to attack the lesser trained Guardsmen, but he held back. He cared only to keep them from getting around him, and he could not break off the fight and escape. When she was safe, he would probably surrender.
She was starting down the rope when she heard the hiss of a crossbow bolt. It came from a tower where another Guardsman was cranking up a ballistae. She took one last glance at Cadlius; that look showed Cadlius kneeling, his sword in the ground. One of the Guardsmen pulled his blade out of the middle of Cadlius’s back.
The Varlet lost her grip of the rope. She hit the spikes set below the wall, but they had been set up to thwart attackers from outside and collapsed, unwillingly, under her. When she hit the ground her legs buckled; she fell backwards down the slope and stopped at the base, face down on dirt and dislodged spikes.
“Cadlius,” she whispered in a heavy moan.
The clack of a ballistae drove her to her feet. She aimed for the dark curtain made by the forest wall and hoped that Jeffers was there, but she did not spend the breath to shout for him. The moon glittered from the shaft of the spear shot three paces ahead of her. She stumbled on the loose, freshly plowed earth; behind her the two Guardsmen who had fought Cadlius came over the wall.
“Hit the dirt!” Jeffers shouted from the forest. “Duck! Get down!” he commanded. She threw herself flat on the plowed land. Thunder and a flash of light erupted from the trees. Minna looked back to the Guardsmen chasing her. The closest rolled on the ground holding his leg; the other planted his shield and hid behind it.
“Jeffers! Nobody’s supposed to get hurt!” Minna screamed as she finished her sprint to the trees.
Jeffers knelt behind a fallen tree; a flash of light came from his outstretched fists and thunder ricocheted from the city wall.
“Jeffers, no!” She turned and saw the second Guard fall behind his shield.
“I can heal them,” Jeffers said, sheathing his pistol.
“If you haven’t killed them.”
As Jeffers started to the Guardsmen, spears fired from the ballistae drove to the shelter of deeper forest, where two horses stood, tethered to a tree branch. Cadlius’s mare seemed to stare at her angrily, as if she knew what had happened and blamed her.
Minna thought that the rumbling she heard was an echo from Jeffers’ pistol, but it was too far and too steady. And it was getting louder. Jeffers wasn’t even half way to the nearest Guardsman when he stopped and listened. Sheathing his pistol, he came back to the trees at a run. “Get mounted, we’re out of time,” he shouted as he jumped for his own horse.
Minna still stared at the wall, as if she could see Cadlius’s body through it, and climbed into the saddle.
“What happened to Cadlius?” Jeffers shouted as he reigned his horse around.
“He’s hurt, maybe dead,” Minna announced.
Jeffers stopped his horse and stared.
“He’s not coming, Jeffers, and there are two Guards laying in the field, possibly dead too.”
“Not likely,” said Jeffers, “I’m a better shot than that.”
“This was not supposed to happen!” Minna shouted.
“It happened,” Jeffers snarled. Turning to face the hill, he kicked his horse to a gallop.
“Where are you going?”
“Trust me,” he shouted. He was already too far away for her to argue.
Jeffers rode a common horse; fit for the everyday needs of a rider. Cadlius’s horse was built and trained for combat; and, being nobility, Minna was trained to ride. She caught up easily.
“Climbing is stupid, Jeffers. We’re tiring the horses.”
“Trust me,” he answered.
“Trust you, how?”
“We’re almost to the top. Hurry, and be careful.”
Minna could see the cliffs they had climbed down less than two weeks earlier. Cadlius’s horse found the gap in the rocks and climbed to the plateau above.
Three bloated horse-like forms glowed a ghostly-white on the crest line. Minna brought her horse to a quick stop. Jeffers came up behind her and passed, heading for the horse shapes without slowing. “Come on, Minna, they’re right behind us.”
Minna approached the ghosts at a fast trot.
Already, Jeffers was off his horse and standing among the ghosts. Up close, Minna could see that their bloated bodies was an illusion caused by wings folded up at their sides.
“Pegasi,” Minna gasped.
“I told you that I had friends in high places. Get on,” Jeffers commanded. “Riding a pegasus isn’t as easy as they make it seem in children’s stories.”
She approached the pegasus timidly, but Jeffers made no allowances for her fears. He lifted her and set her on its back. “No. You can’t sit with your legs hanging over the sides like you can on a horse. The pegasus needs to maneuver its wings. Kneel. Kneel!”
Minna tucked her legs underneath her. Jeffers fastened broad leather straps over her calves, then gave her two straps to hold. “That will have to do. we don’t have time to tie you down properly. Hold on to these. Lean forward and keep low or you are going to die.”
Jeffers jumped onto another pegasus and grabbed two of the two-dozen straps hanging on its saddle. A third pegasus, also saddled, carried no passenger.
Patting his mount on the side of his neck, Jeffers said, “Okay, Cirrus, get us out of here,” The mounts headed for the cliff.
As her own pegasus approached the edge of the cliff, he opened his wings and prepared to jump.
“Wait! I’m not ready!” Minna tightened her grip on the straps and watched as the cliff gave way to the moonlight-bathed mountain slope below. A dozen riders on the hillside looked up at her. Some of the sharper soldiers fired bows. She saw an arrow stick through Cirrus’s wing, but he held a smooth, level guide.
The pegasi quickly glided beyond the range of bows, then banked west, flying directly over the town of K’non. The town sat as an array of torches and lanterns on the dark gray background. Torches lit the field near the wall, where two wounded guards received attention from their comrades. Inside the wall, a crowd was starting to gather around a lone form laying still where Cladius had fallen. The alarm bell still rang, and in a bright magical light near the temple more cavalry prepared to search
The pegasi glided away from the city faster than a horse could gallop, and in the air they did not have the worries about rocks or gopher holes that would surely slow riders on the ground. A couple of times, Minna felt her heart take an extra beat as her pegasus dropped; only to catch itself an instant later. The straps around her legs offered no slack; Jeffers had seen to that. He rode without straps, but seemed unconcerned by the air’s bumps and dips.
Beyond the city, stars filled the sky and the wind flowing passed ruffled her gown and cloak. She looked back and struggled to see Cadlius again, but the distance made it impossible to recognize anything so small. “That wasn’t supposed to happen,” she whispered. Cirrus looked back at her and seemed to understand.
In a couple of minutes they had left the city a mile behind. Cirrus banked and headed for a field; a light, clear spot on the forest floor below. Even if their pursuers saw where they touched ground, it would take them a good quarter bell to reach it. That would be more than enough time to get fastened in properly and take off again. They were safe.
Cadlius was dead; the thought echoed through her.
Two Guardsmen were wounded. Jeffers had shot them.
Cirrus, the pegasus, was wounded.
They touched down more softly than she expected. Jeffers jumped off and went straight to Cirrus’s wing. “It’s most of the way through already. It’ll be best to pull it the rest of the way through.”
The pegasus whinnied and turned his head away.
“At the count of three,” Jeffers said, and pulled the arrow through before he even finished speaking. Cirrus gave a cry and reared, then galloped the circumference of the meadow while holding his wing out straight.
“Damned fool, get over here and I’ll cure it for you, unless you like the way it feels.”
Still shaking his wing, as if doing so could dislodge the pain, he trotted up to Jeffers.
Minna recognized the gestures as Jeffers prepared to cast his spell. The sight of someone about to call upon Sif’s powers to heal somebody who was not even humanoid made her cringe. Old habits, she told herself. They meant nothing.
Cadlius is dead. The thought kept coming to her as if it were newly discovered. It forced a shudder. She focused her eyes on Jeffers as he brought his hands over the wound. A streak of blood, showing black in the darkness stained a meandering line on the white feathers. The sparks that snapped from Jeffers’ palms nearly blinded her. When the sparks stopped; spots decorated her view of Cirrus whinnying his thanks. The pegasus gave his wings a test flap and nodded his approval.
Jeffers had shot two Guardsmen. The thought replaced the shock of Cadlius’ death with anger. “Jeffers! What in the hell were you thinking back there?”
“Where?”
“You shot two people. We agreed nobody was to get hurt.”
Jeffers sighed and stepped up to her. “You agreed. I didn’t want anybody to get hurt either, Minna. I had hoped it would be temporary; Sif had given me the power to heal them; I thought I would have time to use it.”
“You were wrong.”
“Damn, Minna, I know that!” His shout echoed through the forest. He took her straps; his hands trembled too much for him to manipulate the fastenings.
“That wasn’t supposed to happen,” Minna whispered.
“We are here, at this time, and this place,” Jeffers sighed. “I would like to introduce you to some friends of mine. This is Cirrus. The pegasus you were riding is Hurricane, and the other, who was supposed to carry Cadlius, is Nimbus. Cirrus, here, was my mount during Thane Tiempko’s War. Nimbus and Hurricane also served.”
“What are they doing here?” Minna asked.
“I’m still a soldier fighting a war,” Jeffers answered. “I don’t fight alone. I have friends and the means to contact them. “
“What war?”
“A war against certain ways of thinking that have proved themselves dangerous for so many people. Believing in Justice and Will are examples; the Malikiian’s view that drinking blood holds intrinsic evil is another.”
“Why didn’t you mention. . . .”
“That I was working with people working to bring down institutions and ways of thought central to the Malikiian way of life? I did not think it would go over too well. Right now, I’m tired of fighting.” He handed her a wide, heavy belt with a half-dozen metal clasps on it. While he fastened more of the straps around her legs and thighs, she strapped on the belt. “Hurricane will drop you off at the closest town. I trust you can pick up an escort and find your way back to Malikii”
“Where are you going?”
“To Laurella,” Jeffers answered with a sigh. “It’s not easy for me knowing that I am probably the most hated and feared person in Malikii Province. You would have thought I was caught capturing and torturing children from the treatment I got for defending vampires before the Earl’s Court in Malikii. And I am tired of people getting hurt. I’m tired of hurting people. I don’t want to do this any more.”
Minna looked back over her shoulder in the direction of K’non. “They say that Justice doesn’t care how a murderer dies, as long as he dies. Justice must be dancing on his throne tonight; the soul of Cadlius of Belt Ridge is finally his.”
Jeffers finished clipping the last of the straps. “Nimbus will escort you. Cirrus and I will be on our way.” He turned and walked back to Cirrus. His shoulders sagged, and his feet shuffled through the meadow grass. He showed effort as he lifted himself up into the saddle.
Hurricane turned and headed down the meadow at a gallop. Minna had no time for a farewell, and Jeffers never looked up to receive it.
Near the edge of the meadow, Hurricane made a flying leap that carried her out; after a few flaps for altitude she turned east, out of the mountains. She was heading home, but she felt no sense of relief. Home and work would offer no sanctuary from what she had been through. Over Hurricane’s wing, she saw the empty saddle that Nimbus carried. Closing her eyes, she leaned forward, and felt the first swelling of tears.