by Samuel Fort
Chapter 1: Lady Persipia
January 5th, Year 2 of the Second Era
There were few “Ardoon” visitors to Steepleguard in the months immediately following the cataclysm that had ended human civilization. While many of the survivors in the city below sought refuge in the countryside, few thought it wise to ascend the mountains, especially given that the climb would have to be done on foot. Winter had arrived, and while the ivory mountains promised respite from the gangs and anarchists that had overtaken the urban areas, the formidable peaks and snow choked valleys could not promise food, shelter, or medicine, the things the survivors longed for most.
Steepleguard was, at any rate, so high in the mountains and so far removed from civilization that it was practically unreachable to even those who knew of its existence, of whom there were very few. Consequently, Disparthian, Peth Lord of the restored Fifth Kingdom, was surprised when his spies told him that two Nisirtu had left the ruined city below, traveling on the same horse, with hopes of reaching the isolated fortress. The spies conveyed that the individuals’ names were Vedeus, a wandering Peth from the east, and Persipia, the daughter of a Nisirtu lady who had died at the hands of an Ardoon mob.
Because the king, the former Ardoon known as Ben Mitchell, did not pretend to understand Nisirtu sensibilities or politics, his only directive to Disparthian was that the scouts and perimeter guards should ensure that the two travelers arrived at Steepleguard safely. Later, however, the senior queen, Lilian, known also as Lilitu, advised Disparthian that the two wanderers should be monitored secretly and that assistance should only be provided if either seemed to be in danger, or near death. In other words, Disparthian was to heed the king’s order that the travelers arrive safely, and the queen’s order that the two suffer as much as possible en route.
No, thought the Peth Lord. That was not wholly accurate. The queen knew nothing of the man named Vedeus and had no quarrel with him. It was Persipia whom Lilian truly wanted to suffer, though the queen was in agreement with her husband that the cowardly daughter of Lady Del must arrive safely at Steepleguard.
The queen wished to deal with her, personally.
Fiela, former Nocte Sicarius and now junior queen, intercepted Disparthian as he carried the unconscious Persipia toward the main building. “Is this the woman my sister has asked for?”
“Yes, Annasa.”
“Give her to me,” she said, holding out her arms.
The man frowned. “I am happy to carry her to the infirmary, Annasa.”
The girl shook her head. “My sister does not want her taken to the infirmary yet. The woman must first beg the queen’s forgiveness for her treason.”
“But she is unconscious and near death.”
“It is my sister’s command.”
The lord did a poor job of hiding his distaste as he handed the woman’s body to the red-headed girl. “She is afraid for her life,” he said in a low tone. “She begged me to tell the king that she was here so that he might protect her.”
Taking the woman, Fiela was surprised at how light she was. She might float away in the wind, the girl marveled. The woman’s flesh was stretched tight across her wind-burned and peeling face and her lips were mere blisters. This is the creature with whom Lilitu is so infatuated? Fiela didn’t understand why. Surely her sister didn’t want to torture the new arrival. Why? It would be more difficult to crush an autumn leaf underfoot.
“You obey the queen, not traitors,” Fiela said. “You are a Lord of the Peth.”
Disparthian was not moved by the girl’s words. He knew as well as the serretu that Lilian would not be in power had he always done what was commanded of him. “Will you tell the king she is here?”
Fiela did not answer the man. She merely turned on one heel and carried the wraith away.
Persipia woke alone and bundled in a blanket outside the doors to the Great Hall. She had not seen the towering doors since the villain called Sillum had commanded her and the other traitors to exit through them on the night of Lord Moros’s attack on the stronghold.
Who had brought her here, she wondered as the frigid air pinched her face? The courtyard was a blanket of white dissected by a network of footprints, but she saw no living person. She sensed warmth and look down to find a paper cup of a brownish liquid in her hands. Licking her cracked lips, she tasted sweetness. Tea. Someone had given her tea. With trembling hands, she brought the cup to her mouth and downed the contents in one gulp, choking as her constricted throat refused the deluge. The sugar and the small dose of caffeine did wonders. She could feel a low amperage buzz shooting through her veins.
You’re not dead yet, Persy.
A girl? Yes, a girl had brought her the tea – and the blanket. A young woman she didn’t recognize, who had told her...what? Persipia waited for the tea’s stimulants to reach her brain and when they did, she remembered. She had been told to go inside. She had been told to open the giant doors and to go inside and beg the queen’s forgiveness.
The woman shivered both from the cold and a resurgent fear of death. Had the Peth Lord done what she had asked? Had anyone told the Ardoon king she was here? She had never met the king yet he was the only person in the world who could protect her from Lilitu’s anger. But why should he care? Perhaps he viewed Persipia as much a traitor as did his wife.
She laid the drained cup to one side and somehow managed to stand before collapsing against the massive doors. Using what little power she could muster, she pushed, and to her amazement and relief, the doors swung easily open. A man in black combat armor stood inside. He stared at her but was apparently not surprised by her appearance. He made no move to obstruct her, or to help her. He merely nodded toward the Great Hall, his face impassive. He held a carbine that he did not point at her. Dropping the blanket to the floor, Persipia stumbled past him.
