She stumbled halfway there. The vision was startlingly clear. It struck her like a blow. Five coffins lined in a row. Too small to be adult caskets, so very, very saddening.
Children! Ugoth’s!
“Oh! Oh, no!” She wheeled toward the door, fled the room and stumbled down the stairwell. “Vik!” she cried. “Vik! Come back! I saw something! It was terrible!”
Her butler issued from a side door and peered at her in surprise. “The young gentleman has left, Mistress,” he said politely.
“Go! Go get him! Get him back! Hurry!”
He hesitated.
“Go!” she screamed.
He rushed out the front door. Nicky thudded onto a middle step and sat there, panting with the fright of her vision. Vik returned several minutes afterward.
“What is it now?” he demanded angrily in Winfellan. He knew the servants didn’t speak the language.
“Get Kehfrey. I had a vision. He needs to hear it.”
“Tell it to me,” Vik said.
She shook her head. “This is for a monk,” she said. “Only a monk can heal them.”
“Heal who?” Vik insisted.
“Ugoth’s children.”
He stared down at her. His face slowly lost its angry colour and became very pale. “Is this vision something that will happen soon?”
“No. I don’t think so, but he needs to know. Something bad happens, something that even the monks might not prevent. You must ask Kehfrey to see me. I didn’t see Ugoth in the vision. I saw the queen. I saw his brother. I didn’t see Ugoth.” Looking at his apprehensive face, she begged him. “Please! Please! It isn’t for me this time, or for Kehfrey! It’s for his king!”
Vik nodded. “I will tell him. But don’t expect him today. They won’t let me see him. I only managed to force my presence on him at supper. If you’re sure this isn’t right now, I will let him know by breakfast tomorrow.”
She nodded assent. “Go, then. Just don’t doubt me, Vik. I’m not lying about this. I wouldn’t lie something so terrible.”
“I don’t doubt you, Nicky,” he said and withdrew from the house a second time.
Nicky shut her eyes in momentary relief, but they snapped open again in horror. Telling Kehfrey wouldn’t change this future. She stared blindly down the stairwell, but envisioned the five coffins and the church they lay within. In the apparition, there were no monks of the monastery in the old church of Durgven. Only priests of Heavenly Light stood attendance to the small caskets.
And Prince Ufrid, he stared down on the five biers with gloating, triumphant eyes.
The butler shouted in surprise. His mistress had slumped upon the stairs, her nose bleeding profusely. The house was in an uproar for minutes until they had her settled in her bed. Then it was off after the young gentleman again. He was well known as the foreigner who stayed in the monastery, the natural sibling of the famous Brother Herfod. Nicky’s servants were certain Vik would get help for their mistress. He had an entourage of monks with him at all times.
Vik was accosted this time as he reached the city gate. He listened with an irritated frown. The expression rapidly transformed to one of concern. “We’ll meet back at the house,” he instructed.
The servant nodded and dashed off into the narrow side alleys pedestrians used for shortcuts. Vik turned his mount about, his guard of monks matching this manoeuvre. They were silent around him, uncertain as to what was up with their charge. Certainly they knew the identity of the woman he had visited, and they surmised that she must have something to do with Brother Herfod, because Vik never bothered with women. This visit, therefore, had to be because of Herfod. Their best guess, while they had been waiting outside, had been that Vik intended to pass a message from Herfod to Ugoth through the king’s mistress. They hadn’t come close to the truth at all.
Vik hadn’t explained his reason for the visit or the reason for the second quick visit after. He was just glad his guardians were with him. One of them would heal Nicky, because he didn’t dare go to Kehfrey about this. His brother’s feelings for Nicky would come into the open for certain then. Herfod would do anything, even run from the monastery or fight to free himself.
But as Vik worked his way back up the street, a familiar voice hailed him.
“Vik?”
He turned his head, startled. “Brother Samel? What are you doing here?”
“I followed you,” the monk said in Winfellan. He walked through the mounted guard toward Kehfrey’s beautiful brother, a glint of triumph in his eyes. “Is it her? The one you visited?”
Vik scowled. “Well, if you followed me, you must have a horse. Hurry and get it. There’s someone you must heal.”
“I walked to the city,” Samel said. “I’ve been waiting near the main gate most of the day. The abbot and I suspected you might get involved.”
“Seriously?” Vik gave him a disgusted grimace. He switched to Winfellan as well. “You’re that desperate to keep his cock in his pants? You’re going to stalk him like a jealous lover?”
“Vik! It’s not like that at—!”
“Shut up. Fine. Get on back with me. She’s seen a vision and she’s collapsed.”
“Is it her?” Samel insisted.
Vik bent down closer. “Yes! And if she dies because you refuse to help her, he’ll never forgive you,” he hissed. “She’s carrying Ugoth’s child. Ugoth won’t forgive you either.”
Samel stared, startled beyond words. Vik put his hand out. The monk placed his in it and mounted behind him. Vik set his horse back in motion.
“You can’t be sure it’s not your brother’s child,” Samel said.
“He’s sure. So is she.”
“That belief may be wishful,” Samel rejected.
Vik snorted. “Wishful. She would give this one up to have Kehfrey’s if she could. The child is Ugoth’s.”
“What did you mean by a vision and collapsing?”
“She gets visions. Real ones, Samel. Trust me on that. It was she who came to me and told me I must make Kehfrey heed your summons. She said he would not abandon Marun unless he saw your face. She was correct. You can thank her for having him in the monastery. She knows she’s been a distraction. She’s agreed to leave him alone.”
“And the collapse?”
“If she looks too hard at the visions, if she questions them, she injures herself. I suspect she looked very hard just now.”
“What sort of vision would make her take such a risk?”
“She saw Ugoth’s children dead,” Vik answered. Samel’s arms tightened around his waist. “She asked me to tell Kehfrey,” Vik went on. “I will do so. Don’t get ideas about hiding this from him.”
“I wouldn’t think to do so,” Samel said. “But Vik! She is Ugoth’s mistress. The danger?”
“They know,” Vik answered. “They have both agreed it must end.”
Samel shut his eyes in momentary relief, but the ominous foretelling took up his thoughts and burdened him with dread. Vik rushed the horse through the heavy traffic of Durgven’s streets as fast as he could safely guide the beast. Samel wished he would go faster.
***
Nicky awakened slowly. One glow stick lit the room. She opened her eyes to discern a thinnish mature monk hovering over her. She blinked at him uncertainly.
“I have healed the injury,” the monk told her. “You must be more careful.”
A movement attracted her attention. Vik approached from out of the shadows. “This is Brother Samel,” he said. “He’s Kehfrey’s confessor. He knows about it.”
She peered at the monk anxiously. “Tell Kehfrey to come at once,” she said weakly. “He needs to hear this.”
“I would hear it as well. Ugoth was in my charge before he was in Herfod’s,” Samel said firmly.
“I saw them dead! All five! Ugoth wasn’t in the church, only his brother and the queen. There were no monks present, only priests of the new sect. Telling Kehfrey won’t make a difference.” Her voice grew panick
y as she continued. “I don’t know what to do! I have to do something, but I don’t know what! I can’t see what will change it! I can’t see why Ugoth is absent!”
Her eyes rolled up into her head, and her nose began to bleed. Samel cried out softly and began the prayer of healing all over again. After he had finished, he stood back and gazed at Vik worriedly.
“She must not look again,” he whispered. “She will hurt herself. She will hurt this child. Her mind is more injured than I can heal.”
“Samel, no one must know she is with child!” Vik whispered. “Do you understand? If Ugoth’s legitimate children die, the one she carries will be all that remains. No one must know of it.”
Samel nodded agreement. “This is so. Oh! But it is terrible! What if she tries again?”
“I will stay with her tonight,” Vik offered. “You go back. Tell Kehfrey this. Tell him to come up with a way to keep her calm.”
“Tell Kehfrey? But he must dance tonight!”
“Dance?” Vik said suspiciously.
“He was almost free! He danced in the small woods in the dell below the wall last night. He almost slipped free of him!” Samel grabbed Vik’s arm, his excitement strong. “He must not be distracted! He must do this again!”
“Yes,” Vik answered. “Tell him tomorrow. Quick! Do something to keep her unconscious until the morning.”
Brother Samel nodded and began an altered healing chant that would press her awareness down. He nodded to Vik afterward. “She will sleep until I return. What will you do if Ugoth comes?”
“I’ll tell him I was visiting, but that she became ill. We knew each other back in Winfel. I’ll tell him you were here to see after her.”
“Oh, he won’t like me knowing about her,” Samel said.
Vik laughed at that. “Everyone in Durgven knows about her.”
Samel smiled in response, but his humour dropped and resolve hardened his expression. “He must take care of her. He must see her married.”
“Married? Nicky?” Vik blurted. “Not her. She would hate it. It’s like slavery.”
“Slavery? It is protection for a woman with child!” Samel asserted. “I will have Herfod suggest it. It will be his penance.”
Vik shook his head in frustration. “He will never agree to that. He knows her better than me. He’s the one who set her free.”
“Set her free? What do you mean?”
“She was Marun’s slave,” Vik said. “Marun used her visions to aide him in his plans for conquest. Kehfrey freed her before we fled.”
“Were they lovers?” Samel demanded.
“No! He never touched her. He wouldn’t. He didn’t want her to feel used by him. He was her closest friend.”
Though this answer merited some approval, Samel grimaced. The boy was so very noble. Until recently. “I will bring him in the morning,” he reaffirmed.
He tapped Vik a farewell on the shoulder and departed. Vik settled in a chair and prepared to wait for the morning or for Ugoth’s arrival, whichever came first. On this occasion, it was the morning.
Chapter Three
“It’s not going to work! I tell you, he will be ready for it this time.”
“Brother Herfod,” Abbot Anselm reproved. “You will at least try.”
Herfod averted his gaze in frustration, but Anselm would not let him surrender without an attempt. The old man had dragged the reluctant junior back to the dell and set him in the woods personally. Anselm could hardly see the wayward monk. Herfod was dressed once more in his black assassin’s costume. But for his pale skin, he was just another shadow amongst shadows. The lack of visibility irritated the abbot very much.
“Is there enough moonlight for this?” Anselm asked. “I wish you’d said it had been at dawn before now.”
“The lack of sunlight won’t make a difference!” Herfod said crossly, for which the abbot gave him a reproachful look, and since Anselm wasn’t in shadows, Herfod had a clear view of the old man’s disapprobation. “Yes! There’s enough moonlight!” He stomped a few feet away, withdrawing two daggers as he moved. Pausing, he examined the pale illumination that played over the blades.
“I shall go to the edge of the trees now,” Anselm said.
Herfod nodded curtly. Once the abbot was safely out of the way, Herfod began the Pek manoeuvres. He did his best to clear his mind, but he just couldn’t. They were all staring, the abbot, Brother Samel, the gang of protectors. After bare a minute, he stomped toward them.
“That’s it! Turn about so I can relax. You’re all making me feel like a bug under a bird’s eye.”
“Sorry,” Keth said, flushing in the darkness. He faced about. He compatriots did the same. None of Herfod’s protectors understood why he had to dance. They’d been sworn to secrecy over the matter and told to button their lips on questions. Now, disappointingly, they weren’t to be permitted the pleasure of observing him execute the deadly and wonderful performance a second time.
The abbot grumbled over Herfod’s request—he’d been anticipating the event all day—but when Herfod looked ready to begin bellowing, the old man grudgingly turned. Samel understood his senior’s irritation, but rotated as well. “It doesn’t do to watch him, really,” he murmured into Anselm’s ear. “One can get caught up in it. I’ve seen some go off in a trance after a few minutes.”
“Yes, I know,” the abbot said. “Odd that.”
“It’s a gift.”
“It’s a nuisance!” Herfod snapped, having heard them despite their hushed voices. He glared resentfully at their backs. “It’s gotten so that I can’t do the Pek manoeuvres with my gang any longer. It’s gotten so they need to be blessed to be restored to alertness.”
“Let’s stop talking, shall we?” Keth put in. He was guilty of requiring more blessings than most. He was prone to succumbing to Herfod’s peculiar ambience. But then, he had a secret, hadn’t he? He adored Herfod, but not in the typical manner. He knew Brother Samel was suspicious of him and for this reason kept his feelings tightly bound.
Keth had begged to become one of Herfod’s protectors. Nearly sixteen years old at the time, he’d forced his way into the training sessions when pleading hadn’t worked. The monastery seniors had thought older acolytes more appropriate as Herfod’s guardians, but Keth had been taller than most boys his age, and Herfod had respected Keth’s determination. He’d given Keth a chance.
Keth had worked hard to remain in Herfod’s train and would risk the position for nothing. Well, accept if Herfod were to indicate he returned Keth’s sentiments. But that was just mist and smoke. Herfod would never. He seemed perfectly immune to the baser urges.
“Yes. Let us be silent,” the abbot agreed with Keth.
Herfod glowered and stomped further into the glade. He began his task a second time, but broke off after another minute. “It’s not going to work,” he called, but in Winfellan so that only Anselm and Samel understood. “I can feel a change.”
“Try anyway!” the abbot insisted.
Herfod hissed in frustration. “Fine!” he said.
Anselm listened intently. Concern for Herfod had his ears twitching. He heard nocturnal sounds typical of a mountain summer—crickets chirping, leaves rustling in the branches over head, a sheep baaing far in the distance. He canted his head slightly, searching the sounds for evidence of Herfod, but caught innocuous woodland noises and faint movements of the men to his sides. He began to doubt that Herfod was in the copse. “Do you think he’s dancing?” he whispered to Samel.
“He’s very quiet when he practices the deadly arts, Abbot,” his junior answered. “He will do as you say.”
“Still, I am going to look after another few minutes, just to be sure,” Anselm said. Samel nodded agreement.
They counted the minutes down. Both Anselm and Samel were feeling nervous and afraid. Glancing sideways, the abbot noted that the young protectors were also jumpy. A strange sensation of wrongness had filtered into all of them. After a few more seconds, one of t
hem broke.
“I’m looking!” Keth announced abruptly. He moved only his head, but then his entire body whirled after it. “Herfod!” he shouted.
They all turned. Herfod moved within a field of twisting darkness, not a glint of moonlight combined with any of it. He danced nothing but shadows, horrible shadows that clung to his legs and arms. His face was a pale mask of rapture, the only part of him clearly visible, and the eyes were a blank and sightless glow of white. Keth darted forward, but tumbled to the ground when the unnatural mist froze his limbs.
“Don’t come in!” he shouted to the others. “It drags you down!” One of them dared to reach in and pull him out enough for the rest to haul him back to safety.
“Herfod! Stop!” Samel bellowed.
Herfod didn’t seem to hear. His mind no longer rested with them, but with the shadows of the dance, caught by whatever generated them.
“We must stop him!” Anselm cried.
“But how?” Keth said, shivering helplessly on the ground. “We can’t get in there!”
“Pray for auras!” the abbot directed. “Toss them at him!”
“At Brother Herfod?” one of the others protested. “But we’ll kill him!”
“No, we won’t! Do it!” Samel shouted.
He was the first to toss a bolt. It hit Herfod in the back and sent him tumbling, but he righted himself after a few seconds and the shadows returned, to stubbornly coil around him as he began the dance again. The abbot shot a powerful orb at him. This one lifted the target from his feet. Herfod flew in the air several yards, landing with a splash in the small stream.
“You’ll kill him!” Keth protested.
“No!” Samel denied. “Look! It is working! Help us!”
The young men stared inward. Incredibly, Brother Herfod rose. Water dripped from him. He frowned uncertainly at the monks at the edge of the black morass. The imprisoning shadows were motionless within the small clearing, whorled banks of darkness and strange arms of black fog that hovered with terrifying stillness. Blue snakes of energy darted all about Herfod’s limbs, but as his cohorts watched, the snakes flickered out and his eyes began to haze over. The shadows commenced to coil once more, and his arms rose in the dance again.
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