Ishtar's Blade

by Blackwood, Lisa

  Ashayna maintained her gelding’s pace for over two candlemarks, until a wooden palisade became visible in the distance. Even sensing there were no lupwyns following, she still couldn’t relax. She fidgeted while she waited for the guards to open the encampment’s gate. Those few moments of inactivity allowed her worry and guilt to creep in. When the gate swung open, Ashayna spurred her mount through. They trotted by a half-built barracks and a newly-finished healer’s compound, then angled towards camp’s center, where the largest cluster of tents stood.

  Outside her father’s command tent, Ashayna dismounted and hailed a nearby guard to walk her horse. In almost the same motion, she waved over the first messenger she spotted and ordered him to follow. Inside, Ashayna found several senior officers gathered around a map strewn table. Captain Nurrowford stood with his back to her, his head bent over a map while an officer briefed him on events.

  “Captain.” She addressed Nurrowford in a somber tone. “I have your orders from General Stonemantle.”

  When he turned, his haggard expression was serious, more so than she’d ever seen it. Nurrowford was a few years younger than her father, but time and battles had been less kind to him. Time had left his cheeks gaunt, almost wasted, and war had given him a mass of scar tissue, which knotted the skin along his jaw, drawing one side of his lip down. Most days she never noticed his scars, but today his countenance reminded her of a skull. Perhaps it was just her imagination.

  “What do you have to report, scout?” Nurrowford held out his hand for the general’s letter.

  She handed him her message satchel. “It’s too late to send help. The general is captured…or dead.” Her voice sounded hollow to her own ears. The younger officers murmured in shock and grief. The oldest ones remained silent—they’d already known what the general’s delay could mean.

  “How?” Captain Nurrowford asked as he broke the seal on the letter.

  Thankful for the years of training she’d received in a military family, she recited all she knew. “A small group of lupwyns was chasing me. While fleeing I spotted a much larger mass flowing out of the woods northwest of the city, six hundred strong, in full plate armor. I wouldn’t have believed the wolf-beasts possessed such weaponry if I hadn’t seen it myself.”

  Nurrowford digested the contents of the general’s letter with a grunt. “How fast do they travel?”

  “I can’t say. It depends on how much of a distraction General Stonemantle and his men created. Even with full body armor, the lupwyns were traveling fast. If my father hadn’t slowed them, they would already be swarming this camp.”

  He swore. “We march for River’s Divide. We must get to the port city before the lupwyn beasts do. Ready the men.” In an abrupt motion, he rolled the map and shoved it in a travel satchel, then handed it to the messenger. “Take the fastest horse, get this to River’s Divide. Tell the garrison Ashayna’s news.”

  The messenger nodded, then left at a run.

  “Captain Nurrowford, my father wanted me to give you these.” Ashayna handed him her father’s pendant and ring of office. “He wants the prisoners on a boat and sailing out to sea within a candlemark’s time. Perhaps, with their queen out of reach and still in danger, they will hesitate to attack.”

  “Doubtful. They’ll try to force our hand.” After scooping up his sheathed sword from where it hung on a folding wooden camp chair, he slung it around his waist. He was still belting it in place as he made his way from the tent, calling out orders. He glanced sideways at her. “If they take Stonemantle alive, they’ll want to trade him and his men for their queen.”

  “The general strictly forbade that.”

  “Well, he left me in charge. Poor judgment on his part. I will not allow my commander to be consumed by the enemy.” Nurrowford’s lips twisted into a lopsided grin.

  Ashayna could have hugged him. Instead, she gave a half-hearted reminder about her father’s command. “He gave a direct order.”

  “Never could read his hen scratch.” He held up his hand, palm out, to stop any retort. “While we make ready to ride for River’s Divide, I want you to meet the prisoners. They told us their names and titles before claiming they’d only talk to a woman—some religious custom. Find out what they want.”

  “Yes, sir.” Ashayna wished she was as confident as she sounded.

  Ashayna’s heart raced and her fingers trembled. Hesitating outside a nondescript tent, like any other in the encampment, she rested a hand on the lump of the necklace beneath her vest. Somehow, the morning’s events and this meeting were connected. But would it be the doom of her people or the revelations she so desperately sought awaiting her within the tent? No matter how much she wanted to run away, she would find out why these strangers were here. Catching a lieutenant’s eye, she jerked her chin towards the entrance.

  At his barked order a set of guards entered the tent. Ashayna followed. Three steps in, her eyes adjusted to the flickering of oil lamps, but it was the burning metallic scent of magic, overwhelming in the tent’s confines, which hindered her concentration. Even breathing through her mouth didn’t help. Her magic awoke, flooding throughout her body. Not now, please not now.

  Perhaps taking pity, her magic remained, thankfully, below her skin.

  She turned her attention to the strangers where they stood around the tent’s lone table. Two oil lamps at either end of the long table offered dim illumination. The vision of the phoenix hadn’t given her perspective to gauge his height, and she was amazed at the sheer size of the two bronze-skinned, winged beings occupying the tent. Her head might come to the shorter one’s shoulders.

  Both females were dressed in short robes, ornate sword belts slung across their hips. Gold and jewels shone in their crests and circled their wrists. The lupwyn was similarly garbed.

  With a start, Ashayna realized the three strangers were free to roam with no signs of rope or shackles. She turned to one of the guards with a questioning look.

  “It’s their dark magic.” He made a quick sign to ward off the evil. “One moment they’re wearing shackles, the next their restraints vanished. Three sets gone without a trace, milady. Never seen the like in all my days. The captain says not to provoke them.”

  Eying the prisoners’ height and talons, Ashayna was inclined to agree. The lupwyn could walk upright like a human, but any other similarities ended there. Her thick coat of fur, and legs that bent at a strange angle, were markedly non-human, but her pointed muzzle and large mobile ears completed the wolf look.

  Stepping away from the table, the lupwyn approached. Both sets of guards stationed at Ashayna’s back circled around in front, swords drawn, and their legs braced apart in silent challenge.

  The lupwyn queen dropped to all fours, a growl rumbling up from in her chest. Both phoenixes flanked the lupwyn, their hands on their swords in obvious threat. Each emitted a rattling hiss, gazes fixing upon the guards with the sharp intensity of predatory birds.

  “Easy.” At Ashayna’s soothing tone, three sets of eyes narrowed on her again. When she eased between raised swords, the soldiers grudgingly stepped back and the prisoners relaxed.

  “I am Ashayna Stonemantle, scout for the River’s Divide garrison.” If these strangers hadn’t held her peoples’ survival in their hands, diplomacy could have waved in the wind for all she cared. Instead, she wrestled for a polite tone. “Why did you come?”

  Silence stretched by. Ashayna fought an urge to scream at them. She dragged in two deep breaths and prayed for calm. The churning of her own magic gave Ashayna an idea. It had to be good for something, after all.

  She reached inward, determined to harness her magic. It swirled up from the depths of her bones. “I like this no better than you, but we must talk.” Ashayna formed words in her mind while trying to impress upon the magic her wish the prisoners might hear. “If you can understand, show me in some way.”

  The shorter phoenix bobbed her head, her eyes sparkling with a hint of mirth. “How would you like to be sho
wn, Stonemantle? My name is Kandarra.”

  Rage, desperation, hatred—Ashayna had expected any of those emotions accompanying the silent voice. Humor was a surprise. “Very well, since you can understand me, why are you here?” Ashayna glanced at her father’s soldiers out of the corner of her eye. She noted the way they shifted, the fear evident in the pallor of their faces, in the tightening of their fingers on their weapons.

  “You command magic, unlike these others.” The new mind-voice sounded different, stronger, more disciplined. “I am Marsolwyn, Queen of the Lupwyns.”

  Straightening to an imposing height, Queen Marsolwyn gestured for Ashayna to take a seat. Her long, shiny claws tapped out a rhythm against her thigh.

  Ashayna swallowed. There would be no escaping their claws and talons at such a short distance. Refusing to be intimidated, she held her ground. Whatever their motives, they might be the only ones who could save her father. After deliberating for a moment, Ashayna bowed low, as she’d learned as a child.

  Power radiated off them, filling the tent’s narrow confines. She waited. Her magic hummed louder in her mind. Sweat beaded along her neck, lower back, and under her arms. Her pounding heart jumped up a notch and her breathing increased.

  “You abase yourself prettily. However, it’s not necessary.” The lupwyn’s voice was deep, full of rich tones, musical in quality. “Given the strength of your magic, you must be the one we seek.” She tilted her head to the side at Ashayna’s gasp. “Don’t fear. Your secret’s still safe. The guards are no longer aware.”

  Ashayna froze in disbelief. With a sickening clarity, she realized the silence was enough of a warning. She glanced behind. Her heart leapt into her throat.

  Of the six guards who had accompanied her, four still remained upright. They stared off into shadowed corners of the tent, their faces still as statues. Two other guards lay where they’d collapsed. A profound sense of dread settled in Ashayna’s stomach.

  “Hmm, they had a little more resistance to magic than the others.” Marsolwyn gestured to the two prone guards. “It was easier just to command them to sleep.”

  Ashayna released the breath she’d been holding. The guards’ chests still rose and fell.

  “Lady Ashayna, take a seat.” Queen Marsolwyn gestured again at a chair where it sat tucked up against a low table.

  Ashayna debated the command. She’d prefer to stand, but to refuse a queen would be a blunder she couldn’t afford. She bowed, retrieved the chair, and sat down.

  “We have come to speak with you about your magic.” Marsolwyn flicked her pointed ears forward, towards where other guards waited outside. Satisfied with what she’d learned, she continued, “What your Priests of the Revealing Light falsely name demons, we call Larnkins. They are creatures of spirit—an ancient race, not physical in nature, with no flesh, blood, or bones such as we have. We serve them as hosts. In return they grant us vast stores of power and knowledge.”

  “Spirit creatures? Only a fool would take you at your word. I would know if I was possessed by one of your Larnkins.” Ashayna felt a chill, as though someone with winter frosted hands caressed her. Do they know something of my secret, or is it pure speculation on their part?

  “One day, when your Larnkin awakens, she’ll convince you of your mistake.”

  ‘Awakens’ didn’t sound good. Ashayna narrowed her eyes. What the woman said sounded all too familiar, yet distrust and old bias threaded doubt through her mind. To believe the falsehoods could prove deadly. Though, who would deal the death blow was something she didn’t like to ponder.

  “These two are dear friends of mine. Kandarra and Vinarah are daughters of the phoenix queen.” Marsolwyn tipped her muzzle to the taller phoenix. “Vinarah shall speak of the rest.”

  Ashayna’s mind crowded with questions, yet she held her tongue. She would gather what she could before passing along the information to her father’s men.

  The taller phoenix stepped forward, her hand, with its long talon-tipped fingers, rested on the table directly in front of Ashayna. Trapped in her chair, Ashayna had nowhere to go as Vinarah leaned closer, tilting her head one way and then another. Under the intense scrutiny Ashayna dug her fingernails into the chair’s arms.

  Vinarah took a half step back, her expression settling into a pensive, unhappy look. “My mother named me Vinarah, which means ‘The Far Sighted,’ for my ability to see fragments of what is or what may be. One vision is more persistent than all others. In it I see a young human woman, taller than many of her race, with hair of night and bearing a Larnkin of unparalleled power. I have seen this meeting come to pass, in this tent.” Vinarah paused, perhaps studying Ashayna for reaction. “It was you I saw. You are one of us. A mage—host to a Larnkin. You belong with us, not these other humans.”

  “You came all this way because you think I am one of you?” Fear ripped through Ashayna’s chest. Her heart lurched into a steady pound, as sweat trickled down her back. She bolted upright, tipping her chair over when its back legs caught on a rug. “I’m not anything like you. I’ll never betray my people.”

  “We are not asking you to harm your own kind.” The shorter phoenix’s words were accompanied by a slight curving of her lips. “There can be peace between our races. We offer to train you, to help protect your people as well as ours. Why would we come all this way to lie to you?”

  “I don’t know.” Ashayna choked. “But I can’t be who you seek.”

  Her magic stirred fitfully and Ashayna knew her own words were false. She had power. What they said explained the strange magic living within her. A shiver crawled down her spine. At the motion, the feather shifted underneath her vest. Its spicy scent wafted up, reminding her of alarming events from earlier. What lived within her seemed more sinister than the beings they described.

  Ashayna stared at the oil lamps, their flickering light dancing along tent walls and furniture alike. Soft breathing was the only sound for many moments, and it occurred to her the others communicated in a silent language beyond her hearing. Before she realized what she did, the magic obeyed her unformed wish and she heard the murmuring undertones of the prisoners. Fragments sharpened into true speech.

  “She is the one.”

  “You are certain?”

  “Yes, however I fear our brother will be less than pleased.”

  “On the contrary, I think he’ll be delighted. What male wouldn’t, seeing his bondmate wearing his—”

  “Kandarra, what have you done now?”

  “Made this sordid mess a little more interesting. It’ll be fun watching them struggle with their pride.”

  “This is no time for games.”

  “She is aware!”

  As a foreign power reached out to Ashayna’s mind, she instinctively slammed her shields back in place. From behind her dubious protection, she could feel where their power brushed up against her mental barrier. For one moment, their startled thoughts reached her.

  She’d surprised them. Should she feel elation or dread? Probably dread. Even though Ashayna hadn’t understood half of what they’d said, it sounded like they’d come a long way to find her.

  “So you say I’m to become a mage.” While Ashayna admitted to herself her magic problem might be linked to a Larnkin, she wasn’t ready to confide in total strangers. “Vinarah, you have seen it, but have you ever been wrong or perhaps mistaken the meaning?”

  Vinarah looked peevish. “The vision is clear. It is exceedingly rare for a human to possess enough natural magic to be host to a Larnkin. What part of my vision do you think I have misinterpreted?”

  None. Their words made sense. She did, without a doubt, possess some kind of magic, and it had a mind of its own. Yet, for all she knew, they had some hand in her emerging magic—a magic hazardous to her family if an acolyte of the Revealing Light found out. At the moment, she feared the priesthood more than the prisoners. “Can you take this Larnkin and place it in another host?”

  Kandarra snorted and shook her head
. “If it was such a simple thing, do you think we’d be here? No, a Larnkin’s choice of host is permanent. We cannot order around such beings on a whim. They choose us and we honor them with the use of our bodies.”

  “You want me to come willingly.” Ashayna’s cool statement gained no response, so instead a new tactic was in order. “What is it worth to you?” A thin shift of muscles along Kandarra’s jaw told Ashayna she’d hit upon the right trail.

  “Isn’t it clear?” Kandarra was quickly hushed by Queen Marsolwyn before she could reveal more.

  Marsolwyn tilted her head to one side, gaze fixed. She remained motionless for ten heartbeats, then her eyes snapped into focus. “Go tell your commanding officer a delegation will arrive shortly to negotiate for our release. Pray they get here before my mate does. I hear his warsong carried on the wind. It will not go well for your people if Ryanth gets here first.”

  “Your mate leads the army of lupwyns? The ones my father was trying to slow?”

  “Yes. Perhaps I should have discussed this with Ryanth, but time was short and I was visiting in Grey Spires, the phoenix city. While I was there, Vinarah had a vision of danger to you—from a priest. I didn’t have time to inform Ryanth. Unfortunately, he’s reacted faster than I anticipated.”

  “If your oversight leads to my father’s death, you’ll never have me or my magic at your command.” Ashayna couldn’t stand the tent’s confines any longer. Their magic threatened to steal her breath. She backed away, heading towards the entrance when she remembered the six guards. “Undo whatever you did to them and don’t use magic upon a human again. I might come with you peacefully, if my father still lives.”

  “Far be it of us to control you, Ashayna, but know this. Magic will never be denied—and your father will join you before this night is over.”

  After the guards awoke, Ashayna fled the tent to seek out Captain Nurrowford.

  *****