Shadow Helm of Glory

by Elizabeth Klein

  Robbie digested what he said. It suddenly occurred to him that he’d never spoken to one of Morgran’s soldiers before. Carrying their weapons and wearing those emerald cloaks gave them an aura of unapproachable remoteness. They were instruments of Morgran’s harsh tyranny and could deal out punishments on a whim. No one wanted to get to know them!

  Ethan was a little older than Robbie, deceived with Morgran’s empty promises no doubt. A puppet whose strings could be cut at the tyrant’s pleasure, a pawn he could control and move about on the board of life and death.

  A whisper brushed Robbie’s ears. I hear the sighing and groaning of the prisoner and those appointed to death.

  The Morning Star chose that unlikely moment to converse with him—in cryptic verse. He looked at Ethan, a prisoner in many ways.

  He held out his hand. ‘My name’s Robbie.’

  Ethan grasped it with eagerness. ‘There’s something you must know, Robbie. Men do not speak in front of the Dwellins. Remember that if you want to live.’

  Frowning, he nodded and released his grip. ‘I will. Why?’

  ‘It’s because of the queen. She outlaws men in her kingdom and they are treated like slaves. I don’t know why that is. The Dwellins are all women—all of them. There are no men in her army.’ He paused. ‘They also say the queen’s mad.’

  Robbie stared at him.

  A mad queen!

  ‘What’s going to happen to us, then?’

  Ethan shrugged. ‘We were spared for a reason, probably to be slaves, or servants. Who knows.’

  Robbie sat up. ‘Then we must escape!’

  Ethan gave a bitter laugh. ‘You are jesting! No one ever escapes the Dwellins! Here, sadly, our short days will end.’

  I hear the sighing and groaning of the prisoner...

  A deep, cold pit opened up inside Robbie. With a struggle, he contained his despair. It’s not true! I’ll find a way to escape! He clenched his fists.

  ‘My brother did not get captured. He will come looking for me. He’ll find a way to rescue us.’

  ‘Why would you want to rescue me, one of the king’s soldiers?’ His top lip rose in a sneer. ‘I know what people say about us, behind our backs. You and your kind hate us! You’re all the same; don’t care about anyone except yourselves!’

  Robbie couldn’t believe his ears. Did he have that the right way around? It was the soldiers who cared only about fattening their own pockets through illegal gain, pilfering from the common people. But he didn’t feel like arguing. The throbbing in his head felt terrible.

  ‘When I get out, I won’t forget you!’

  Ethan shook his head, his face twisting in self-pity. ‘You won’t be getting out.’ He took a deep breath and gave Robbie a dull look.

  Sighing and groaning...

  ‘Anyway,’ Ethan went on, ‘they usually bring food twice a day. Just slop, but it fills the emptiness inside, so eat it up. You’ll need all your strength for what’s coming.’

  Robbie glanced around. A small window with iron bars allowed the moonlight to create the rectangle of light on the far wall. ‘Can you see anything out there?’

  ‘Not much.’

  Ethan helped him up and kept a firm hand on his arm. Robbie was grateful for his support. He took unsteady steps and slow, measured breaths which hurt his chest. Ethan stood beside him as he peered out of the window, but there wasn’t enough room for both of them to look out.

  The first thing Robbie noticed was that they were on the ground floor and a back street ran beside their prison flanked by several whitewashed houses. Yellow lamplight glowed in windows, but he couldn’t see any occupants moving about inside. His gaze lifted to the dark sky that canopied Dwellinfrey, where stars winked.

  Then he jumped as keys rattled in the lock. He looked up with apprehension as a stunning, raven-haired woman with cold, sharp features glided into the room. She held a lamp in her hand that she thrust towards them as if to see their features. Gleaming like silk in its light was her long black dress as it rustled across the hay. The woman’s black eyes glared at them from a paper-white face.

  Chapter 23

  The Bath House

  His throat tightened and he couldn’t breathe as darkness pressed against him. Remembering Ethan’s warning, he stood motionless. His shoulders tensed as she stopped and peered at him and then at Ethan. He tried not to look at her, but it was difficult not noticing things, like her long, black fingernails and blue veins beneath the white, transparent skin on the backs of her hands.

  ‘Take them to the workhouse!’

  Four female servants hastened into the room. Two had grasped Robbie’s arms when another loud voice behind the woman set his already jangled nerves on edge.

  ‘No, not the workhouse, Elimas! How many times must I tell you that I want to look at them first?’

  Elimas’s eyes burned as she did obeisance to the newcomer, a woman who now filled the doorway in a dazzling red gown. An intricate circlet of silver and gold sat upon her head above fierce, grey eyes—a twisted snake with ruby eyes that glinted venom. Hair black as twilight rippled over bare, white shoulders.

  ‘Pardon my fault, Your Majesty.’ She glared at Robbie and Ethan. ‘On your knees before the queen!’

  The female servants thrust Robbie onto his knees and he fell forward in a daze. The rustle of the queen’s gown came closer and he risked a swift glance. It was speckled with fine silver thread that glinted in the lamplight like countless stars. A silver belt, hitched up at her hips, hung low at the front where a single diamond gleamed in tiny, silver claws. Around her bodice ran a chain of shimmering white pearls.

  Robbie took it all in and then quickly lowered his gaze again. He sensed her moving around him and Ethan, eyeing them as one might cattle or sheep at the markets. Then the queen sniffed.

  ‘They need a bath...and new clothes. Yes, new clothes! Their old ones are to be burned!’

  Elimas gave a low curtsy. ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’

  ‘Take them to the bathhouse and make sure they are scrubbed clean! I wish to see what is under all that filth.’

  ‘Yes, Your Majesty!’

  The queen’s dress rustled over the hay as she walked towards the door. ‘Mother—’ her voice sounded soft and plaintive like a child’s, ‘when they are properly washed, bring them to my court. I will decide what shall be done with them there!’

  Mother?

  Curious, Robbie glanced up as she disappeared. Did she mean Elimas? The woman in black glided forward; again, he felt vulnerable. Her presence made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle and stand up. Something dark lay beneath her, something secretive and veiled. Fear gripped his heart and squeezed it as she neared. Grasping his chest, he struggled to discern its true source and stumbled back. She grinned.

  One word intruded his thoughts.

  Magic!

  He subdued the rising panic as he glanced up at her. It was how Elder Robairt made him feel. Morgran’s untaming magic was at work here, blinding the queen to the evil that lurked concealed within her kingdom. Robbie understood now.

  Elimas was a Magic Woman!

  Her black eyes scrutinised him as they lingered with a stare so intense it seemed to strip him bare. He looked away, stifling a gasp. His heart raced.

  She knows that I know!

  Long fingers clamped about his cheeks, jerking his head up, forcing him to look into her eyes. Her fingernails dug into his flesh. Tears welled in his eyes.

  ‘So, you are not all that you seem.’ Then, with astonishing strength, she thrust him back against the servant, who grabbed his arms.

  ‘Take them to the wash house!’

  Mingled shadows and lamplight dappled the street as they marched. Held upright by the servants, Robbie was half dragged along. His head still throbbed with pain, his heart with anguish. Faolan’s charge on the eve of their departure from the farm prodded at the forefront of his thoughts. In his mind, he could see his grandfather’s solemn face as he handed him the Less
on Book.

  Don’t let anything happen to it! Guard it with your life, Robbie. Promise me?

  I promise!

  Now it was in danger of being burned along with the rest of his clothes. He sought the Morning Star.

  I need your help again. Please! The Lesson Book must not be destroyed.

  He hurt too much to take in anything, let alone where he was being taken. His cheeks also hurt from where the woman’s nails had dug in. Then he was stumbling through the doors of a two-storey building and hurrying along a murky corridor that smelled like disinfectant. Glass lamps burned on the walls but provided little light. Robbie was growing dizzier by the minute. One of the servants knocked on a heavy door that was promptly opened by an older woman wearing a white cap and a white apron. Two younger women behind her gawked at them.

  The older woman’s gentler eyes fastened on Robbie and Ethan. Her face crinkled with concern. ‘Bring them over to the fireplace. They need warmth and something to eat.’

  One of the servants gave Robbie a shove. He stumbled inside a large kitchen towards the huge hearth where a fire crackled. Warm stew aromas filled the room and his empty stomach rumbled. A long, wooden bench and several stools stood against the wall.

  The older woman frowned at the servants. ‘You can go! They will be safe here!’

  Hesitating, they glanced at each other. The woman raised her voice and pointed towards the door. ‘Go!’

  Her sharp tongue made them hasten from her presence and the door shut with a bang. Shaking her head, the woman eyed Robbie and Ethan.

  ‘Sit down.’

  She clapped her hands and ordered the two curious girls to bring food. They jumped and scurried to the hearth, where they scooped steaming stew into wooden bowls, then brought them over and placed them before Robbie and Ethan. Out of the corner of his eye, Robbie noticed another tall, athletic-looking woman with straw-coloured hair looking on. She hadn’t moved. She wore dark stockings and a short woollen coat that accentuated her long legs.

  ‘And what will they eat it with?’ the older woman growled at the girls. ‘Mother of Light! What dolts I have to work with!’

  The giggling girls hastened to produce wooden spoons. Robbie leaned over and placed his cold hands around the warm bowl. Hot steam warmed his face as he began to eat. The woman poured them a drink from an earthenware jug and placed it beside them. His teeth chattered on the rim as he drank. She turned and growled at the girls as they stood gawking at them.

  ‘For pity’s sake! Haven’t either of you seen a boy before? Go and prepare their baths! That’s what they’re here for. And make sure they’re hot—but not too hot!’

  At once, the girls scurried off down a corridor Robbie noticed for the first time. With a shake of her head and a heavy sigh, the older woman sat down and watched them eat in silence. Robbie didn’t take his eyes off her as he wolfed down his stew.

  ‘My name is Wilmah. What are your names?’

  Ethan’s spoon froze in mid-air and he threw Robbie a cautionary look. Wilmah rolled her eyes.

  ‘Oh, I’m not going to hurt you! You look in bad enough shape as it is! Now, what are your names? Tell me!’

  Robbie placed his spoon down. ‘Robbie.’ His voice was low and hoarse.

  Wilmah smiled at him and then looked at Ethan, expecting him to answer.

  ‘We’ve got nothing to lose.’ Robbie prompted him.

  Still looking uncertain, his companion said, ‘Ethan.’

  Wilmah smiled again. She leaned forward and lowered her voice. ‘You’ll find not all of us here in Dwellinfrey hate men.’ She sat back and clasped her hands over her protruding stomach. ‘On the contrary. I’ll leave it at that for now. Eat up and then we’d better get you bathed and ready for the queen. She’ll be at court within the hour.’

  ‘What will she do to us?’

  She gave Robbie a sheepish look. ‘Can’t deny the obvious, I’m afraid. You might be sent to the workhouse, or worse, to the quarry. If the queen likes how you scrub up, she might take you on as personal servants. So make sure you scrub yourselves clean and look presentable.’ She shook her head with irritation and glanced down the hall. ‘Where are those two layabout girls? I could have filled three bathtubs by now.’

  Robbie didn’t know why he did what he did next, but he reached inside his pocket, pulled out the button Navarre had given him and placed it on the table. Ethan’s reaction was instantaneous. He cried out with an angry expletive.

  ‘Why, you little traitor!’

  With a snarl, his fingers became talons that reached for Robbie’s throat. The next moment, Ethan was lying on his stomach on the floor with the tall woman on top, her knee in his shoulder blade and his arm twisted behind his back. She was so swift he had no chance to do any damage. Robbie stood rubbing his throat, staring in horror as Ethan was hauled to his feet and marched down the corridor.

  ‘Well,’ Wilmah said as she straightened her dress with a sigh, ‘that went down like a rock in a pond. His green cloak does show he is one of Morgran’s soldiers after all. How did you think he’d react to this?’ She reached out and picked up the button, turning it over in her hand. She peered at him. ‘You must be someone trustworthy if Pelias gave you this. How is that rogue anyway?’

  Robbie blinked at her in utter surprise.

  ‘He was good the last time I saw him,’ he said. ‘Wilmah, can you get me out of here? I must find my brother and my friend.’

  She thrust it back into his hand. ‘Put it away and don’t show another soul here in Dwellinfrey.’ Then she lapsed into silence and wrung her hands on top of the table.

  Robbie tried again. ‘Please Wilmah! I have to—’

  ‘The baths are poured!’ a giggly voice called.

  The two girls reappeared. Curious, they glanced about, no doubt wondering what had happened to Ethan. Wilmah stood up and grabbed Robbie’s wrist, hauling him to his feet. She led him down the corridor, followed by the two girls like lambs skipping after their mother. An occasional giggle came from one of them. Wilmah ignored it.

  They came to a room at the end of the corridor, its door thrown wide. Inside, two wooden tubs sat half filled with water, steam rising in gentle curls. A pile of folded clothes sat on a nearby chair. It was now that Robbie had to make another appeal.

  ‘Wilmah, I carry a book that I want to keep—’

  ‘Yes, yes! Keep it if you want. Just place all the things you want under the new clothes once you take yours off. Yours will go in the incinerator. Don’t leave anything you wish to keep in your pockets. And don’t be too long!’

  She and the girls hastened from the room. The door was shut behind him and giggles came from the other side. A key turning in the lock told Robbie there was no escape.

  Chapter 24

  Rory’s Spy

  Dougray opened his eyes and sat bolt upright on his bedding as a vision of the woman in the tower appeared before his startled eyes. He stared at her tear-streaked, lonely face pressed between two iron bars. She was sobbing uncontrollably. He wiped his sleeve across his own eyes as the topmost ramparts of the tower disappeared. A thrill of fear passed through him, but he sensed it was her fear, not his. The vision faded into the blackness. He folded his arms about himself as a coldness swept over him. He trembled all over.

  Arabella—his mother—was terrified of something! Morgran?

  No!

  Something else, something much worse. It resonated inside her—and now inside him. Someone precious to her was going to die. That knowing was all over him like a rash, but he didn’t know who the person was. He clenched his fists, unable to help her or Robbie. First, he had to sort out his own terrible mess.

  He looked at Belle and Mouse sleeping nearby. His gaze lingered on Belle. He could have mistaken her for a human girl. Her face was beautiful in the faint light. He was tempted to reach out and touch her forehead, to push back a stray lock of hair that had found its way across her face.

  He caught himself. No, he’d let her sleep
. Their gruelling journey and capture by the Whistlers had sapped all her energy. Exhausted, she had fallen asleep almost at once.

  He had no idea of time, but he guessed it was still night by the silent, sleeping figures around them and the dim lighting within the cave. His thoughts drifted to Robbie and where he might have ended up. By what he and Belle had managed to describe, Rory had surmised that the Dwellins—fierce, warlike women soldiers belonging to the queen—must have captured him. What did Dwellins do with their prisoners? Especially men?

  His gaze lowered to his sword lying beside him. Three gemstones glittered in the hilt; four remained dull as river stones. Rory had commented on their beauty and Dougray sensed his strong desire to keep the sword for himself. But his previous oath in front of his men had prevailed.

  What would happen when all the crystals were restored and all shone as brightly as the three? The sword had activated the latent power within him that not even he fully understood. Each time a crystal was discovered, more power had flowed through him, that much he had sensed. He was some sort of conduit. Combined with the sword’s magic, he had felt twice as powerful.

  One day there’d be a final battle and he would have to make a decision—to destroy Morgran, or be destroyed with all Bethloria! Only magic could destroy the tyrant. All the old tales had foretold of Rafem being imbued with the taming magic for that sole purpose. His true destiny had caught up with him. He’d run from it all his life, telling himself he would one day settle down and become a farmer. But he couldn’t outrun something that had been prophesied before his birth.

  He ran his fingers along the cold blade, over the twin dragons.

  Dragon Slayer.

  Why not Morgran Slayer? What was it about the sword that seemed so enigmatic?

  The black dragon had told Robbie its sole purpose had been to kill them both. But why Robbie? He was a pacifist who didn’t even like carrying a knife.

  Dougray grinned as he recalled him handing one back to Belle.