The Jackal of Nar

by John Marco

  "But what did he say to you? If he's not dead, then where is he? Is he all right?"

  "I think so," said Richius thoughtfully. "He said he was. He wouldn't tell me very much, only that he needs to speak to me. I'm supposed to meet him at our plateau in the mountains in three days."

  "What?" erupted Patwin, losing all composure. "Are you serious? He asked you to meet him there?"

  Richius only nodded.

  "And just like that you're going? You really have lost your mind if you're truly considering this, Richius! Why would you agree to go into the mountains?"

  "I have to," said Richius simply, still unsure if he should explain why.

  "It isn't safe," said Patwin, lowering his voice. "There could be Drol scattered throughout those peaks, for all we know. I hate to say it, but did you ever consider that this could be some sort of trap? Even if it was Lucyler you saw, who knows what's happened to him since the valley? He could have turned Drol!"

  "Stop!" said Richius. "Don't ever say that. I trust Lucyler with my life, Patwin. You did, too, once. He's no traitor and you know it. If he says he has to speak to me then there's a damned good reason for it."

  "Really?" asked Patwin. "What is it then? If he's so keen on speaking to you, why doesn't he just come to the castle like anyone else? Why all this magic and rubbish?"

  "I don't know," admitted Richius. "He wasn't able to tell me why."

  "How convenient. But you're going anyway. God, Richius. What can I say to convince you? This is utter madness. Please listen and let me talk you out of it."

  "Patwin, you don't know everything yet," said Richius desperately. "I wouldn't go if I didn't have to, but I must." He leaned closer to his comrade, speaking in a whisper. "He knows where Dyana is."

  Patwin went ashen. "Oh, my God," he croaked. "He told you that?"

  "He did."

  "Where is she?"

  "He wouldn't tell me. He wants me to go to the plateau. Then he'll tell me where to find her. At least that's what he promised me."

  "And that doesn't sound like a trap to you? Richius, think for a minute. He could be using Dyana as bait to lure you into the mountains. I bet he doesn't even know where she is, but he knows you'll come after her."

  Richius shook his head. "I don't think so. Lucyler shouldn't even know who Dyana is. I never saw him again after I left for Ackle-Nye. By the time I met Dyana, he was probably already Voris' prisoner. Besides, I trust him. Lucyler would never try to hurt me."

  Patwin sighed heavily and stared down at the stable floor, kicking at the bits of hay with the toe of his boots. "Well then, I can't let you do this damn fool thing alone. If we leave in the morning we can make it to the plateau in three days. But we'll have to come up with something good to tell Jojustin. And Sabrina."

  Richius reached out and grasped his friend's shoulder. At any other time he would have welcomed the company, but he knew he was going off on a fool's errand, and that there was no way he could accept Patwin's offer. Patwin was right: there probably were Drol in the Iron Mountains, just waiting for a pink-skinned human to flay. This time he would have to face the dangers of Dring alone.

  "I might be gone a long time," he said. "And I don't know where Lucyler plans to take me. If Dyana is back in the Dring Valley I'm going to have to go in after her. I might not be coming back."

  "If you're trying to talk me out of going with you, forget it. You need me."

  "Yes," admitted Richius. "I probably do. But I can't let you risk your life for Dyana. I'm the only one who has to do this. I want you to stay behind and look after Sabrina for me. She's going to need you, too, maybe even more than I will. Especially if I don't make it back."

  "Richius..." Patwin began, but Richius put up his hands to silence him.

  "Don't argue with me about this, Patwin. I've already given it a lot of thought. This is the way it has to be. I'm leaving in the morning for the plateau--alone."

  "No," said Patwin vigorously. "You're the king. It's my duty to protect you."

  Richius tightened his grasp on Patwin's shoulder, trying to calm him. "It's also your duty to follow my orders. I don't give them very often, my friend. Will you follow this one for me?"

  "How can I?" asked Patwin sadly. "You don't know what you'll find in the mountains or where Lucyler plans to take you. You could be riding off into your doom."

  All the more reason for you to stay behind. No offense, but if the Drol are after me, having you with me won't help much. They'll just kill you, too."

  "Then I'll die defending my king," declared Patwin. "Like a Guardsman of Aramoor should."

  Richius couldn't help but smile. He would miss his fair-haired friend, maybe more than anyone else in the castle. But it helped his resolve to think of Patwin swinging from a Drol gallows, and he rose decidedly to his feet.

  "I wish I could say yes to you, Patwin. But I'd be a poor friend to ask you to risk your life for a woman you don't even know. Stay behind. Look after Sabrina for me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

  Patwin looked up at him gloomily. "What will you tell Sabrina?"

  "What I told you, mostly. Hell, she already thinks I've gone insane. I doubt she'll be too surprised that I'm going off to see Lucyler."

  "Are you going to tell her about Dyana?"

  Richius bit his lip. "Maybe. If she knows about Dyana already, I'll explain it to her. If not..." He let his voice trail off, leaving a little verbal shrug.

  "Jojustin's madder than a wolf in a bear trap," warned Patwin. "He's going to want to hear your story, too. Do you want me to come with you?"

  "No," said Richius, starting toward the doors. "There's no sense in you being more involved than you are already. I'll handle Jojustin. You get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

  Richius left the stables, making his way through the dreary courtyard. As he sighted the glowing candles in the castle windows his stomach twisted. Sabrina was behind one of those frosted panes, waiting for him to return. She was probably worried about him, too, and Richius cursed himself for taking so long. Why did he always make her worry? He crossed the courtyard quickly, eager to be out of the chilly night, and stepped as silently as he could into the foyer, hoping to reach Sabrina before Jojustin sighted him. But the old man was as keen as a hawk. He stepped out of the shadows just as Richius took off his cape.

  "Where have you been?" asked Jojustin icily. His thin face was twisted with fury.

  "Out," Richius said evasively, dropping his cape onto a wall peg. "Where's Sabrina?"

  "Don't ignore me," warned Jojustin. "I'm very angry, and I want to know where you were tonight!"

  "Jojustin, it's late. I'm tired and I want to talk to Sabrina Where is she?"

  "She's in the kitchen with Jenna. She's been in a state since coming home. Explain yourself, Richius."

  "Not now," said Richius, walking past his steward into the hall. "I'll talk to you in the morning." He heard Jojustin's offended grunt but kept going, ignoring the old man's ire. There was only one person he had to explain himself to, one person who truly deserved an explanation for what he'd done. Jojustin might stay angry with him for days, but that wasn't important. His responsibility was to his wife, and he knew he had shirked it. As he walked through the dim halls he hummed to himself, piecing together the fragments of his story and trying to arrange them in just the right way to spare Sabrina's feelings. A single question nagged at him--did Sabrina know about Dyana? It certainly seemed so to him, yet he couldn't reason how. Only Patwin and Dinadin knew about her, and neither of them had divulged the secret to Sabrina. Then it occurred to him in an ugly flash that there was only one real way she could have known. Everything that ever happened in Dring was in his journal. If she had dared even a peek at it...

  He moved with urgency into the dining room. Beyond, he could hear Sabrina's breaking voice, and Jenna's calm, sisterly replies. He froze, trying but failing to decipher the muffled sentences. Bracing himself, he stepped into the kitchen. Sabrina was seated on a work stool, a h
andkerchief dangling limply in her hand. Jenna stood beside her. A fire smoldered in the cooking hearth, filling the kitchen with the greasy smell of burned fat. They both stared up at him. Frustrated tears streaked Sabrina's reddened cheeks. She wiped at them quickly with the handkerchief.

  "Jenna," said Richius easily. "Would you leave us alone, please?"

  Jenna looked down at Sabrina, who nodded her assent. The older woman bent to kiss the younger's forehead. "I'll be upstairs if you need me," said Jenna, then stalked past Richius without a glance.

  Suddenly alone, Sabrina rose from the stool and went to the washbasin filled with dirty pots and gray, sudsy water. Her back was turned to him as she lifted a pot from the basin and began scrubbing. She seemed not to notice the water dripping onto her feet.

  "I'm glad you're home," she said thinly. "I was getting concerned."

  "I'm sorry," answered Richius. It was all he could manage. "I didn't mean to worry you. I was... thinking."

  The back of her blond head bobbed as she nodded.

  "Sabrina," continued Richius. "Please look at me."

  Sabrina lowered her hands into the basin full of dishes. Her head slumped. "I cannot." Her sagging shoulders began to shake. He went to her and put his hands on her arms, turning her to face him.

  "Please," he implored. "Let me explain...."

  "Explain what?" she flared, jerking from his embrace. "I really don't want to hear any more of your lies, Richius. Spare me tonight, I beg you."

  Richius held firm. "I want you to listen to me. You should know the truth."

  "Should I?" said Sabrina with a laugh. "Good. Then go ahead and tell me. Tell me about how you saw a Triin that wasn't there and how you left me to find my own way home in the dark. Tell me more lies about your friend Dinadin and why you never mentioned him." She stepped closer and glowered at him, her face the semblance of a demon. "And why don't you tell me about your precious Triin whore!"

  Richius gritted his teeth. He took the time to calm himself before speaking again. "Patwin didn't tell you about her, did he?"

  "No," admitted Sabrina fearlessly. "I read about her in your damn diary. Now I know why you never told me about Dinadin. You were afraid I'd find out about her." She laughed bitterly. "Don't leave your things lying around, Richius, not if you're going to be as moody as you've been."

  "You had no right to read my journal," said Richius. He was less angry than disappointed, but he could almost understand her actions. "There was no reason for you to know any of it."

  "I disagree. I wanted to know what was wrong with my husband, and you certainly weren't telling me. No one was."

  "And you think you can know what I've been through by reading my journal? Sabrina, I tried to spare you all that misery." He looked away, shaking his head. "You can never understand."

  "I think I can," said Sabrina. "You love this woman. That's why you're so unhappy. You're stuck with me when you want someone else. What's so difficult about that? I love you but I can't have you. It's the same thing."

  "But you do have me," argued Richius. "I'm your husband."

  Sabrina gave another short laugh. "I don't want the ring, Richius. I want the man. But I can't have him, can I?"

  Richius didn't answer. He walked over to the tiny stool she had vacated and sat down, gazing blindly at the kitchen floor. He was almost relieved she knew about Dyana. It would make the rest of his news easier.

  "I have to tell you something," he said weakly. "About Lucyler."

  "Ah, Lucyler," said Sabrina. "That's the name. Did you find him?"

  "Yes, I did. I spoke to him."

  "Oh? And what did he tell you? Is he coming for dinner soon?"

  Richius looked at Sabrina mournfully, unable to raise even the smallest smile. The malice on her face melted under his gaze, until she appeared as placid and beautiful as the day he had met her, stranded on the muddy road to Nar. That was months ago now, and he realized abruptly that he hardly even knew her.

  "What is it?" Sabrina asked.

  "I'm going away for a while, I'm not sure how long." He watched as her eyes grew wide. "I've made plans to meet Lucyler in the Iron Mountains three days from now. He has something important to tell me, something he couldn't tell me today."

  Sabrina seemed stricken.

  "I hope I won't be gone very long," Richius went on, "but it's hard to say. There's some danger, too. There may be Drol waiting for me when I get to the mountains. I trust Lucyler, but I don't know--"

  "Oh, God," groaned Sabrina, rushing to him and falling to her knees before the stool. She took his hand, putting it to her cheek. "Don't tell me any more," she begged. "Don't go. Don't leave me."

  Unable to pull back his hand, Richius let her have it, sitting in agony as she smothered it with imploring kisses. He had expected her to rage, perhaps even to strike him, but this affection was shattering. He put his head back and groaned, hating himself. At last Sabrina looked up at him. In that moment she was like a dutiful puppy, eager to please the master who had beaten her. He pulled on her hand and lifted her to her feet again, drawing her tightly to him. Her body yielded to his grasp.

  "I'm leaving in the morning," he told her gently. "This is something I must do. I want you to try very hard to understand why. Will you listen to me?"

  She nodded, obviously unable to speak, and dropped her head in anticipation of his story. Richius screwed up his courage. His hands trembled as they drew her onto his lap.

  "You see," he began warily. "This fellow Lucyler was like a brother to me in Dring. He wasn't just another soldier. He was like Patwin and Dinadin. A friend. We trusted each other with our lives, and I still would trust any one of them to the end. Now I really can't say how he appeared to me. The Triin have magic to do some strange things, and maybe he was using some to contact me. But it was him, I know it was, and he needs me to go to him."

  "But why?" asked Sabrina. "What does he want of you? Why can't he just come to the castle to speak with you?"

  "He wouldn't tell me. Perhaps he can't. There's certainly more to this than he's telling me." Richius swallowed hard. "And there's more to it than I'm telling you."

  "Tell me," Sabrina insisted.

  "I wouldn't go if I didn't have to," Richius continued. "Even Lucyler's friendship isn't enough to lure me back into Lucel-Lor. But he told me something, something he knew I couldn't ignore."

  "Something about her?"

  Richius nodded. "He knows where she is, Sabrina. She's alive. He wouldn't tell me where she is, not unless I came to meet him in the mountains. After that he promised he would tell me everything."

  Sabrina fell into a contemplative silence.

  "Don't you see, Sabrina?" Richius asked hopefully. "I can keep my promise to her now. I can save her."

  "I know about your promise. You don't need to explain it to me. It's all in your journal, after all."

  Richius shut his eyes. "I want to explain it to you. I want you to know why I'm going back for her."

  "I know why," said Sabrina. "Because you love her."

  Richius felt like a child. He nodded dumbly. "Yes," he choked. "I do. I don't want to love her, but I do. I have since I first saw her."

  The pain on Sabrina's face was wrenching. "Yes," she whispered. "That's what it's like."

  "I'm under a spell, Sabrina," Richius went on. "She's done something to me. Maybe it won't make sense to you, but I was so alone in the valley. Every day I thought I would die. And every day it seemed more of my friends did die. I was losing everything fast. But then suddenly she appeared. She let me take her and I've never been the same." He looked down at the floor. "Now I want no one else. You're so beautiful, Sabrina. So beautiful. But..."

  His voice trailed off with a sputter. Sabrina sighed then climbed gingerly off his lap. On her face was the most disquieting smile.

  "This woman must be something very special. I've been trying to get you to talk about Lucel-Lor for months, but I never realized what a horror it had been for you. If you would g
o back there for her..." She shrugged resignedly. "I can't compete."

  Richius stared at her, stupefied. "What are you saying?"

  "Go to her," she said simply. "I can't stop you. I won't even try. You obviously love her very much." A forlorn smile played across her lips. "Maybe even more than I love you."

  Richius hung his head. "God, I'm sorry," he said. There was no peace within him at her words, just a hollow, filthy feeling. Remarkably, he had gotten her consent for his wild, adulterous scheme. But he wanted more. He wanted absolution. "Forgive me," he begged. "This is something I must do. If I can save her, maybe I can be whole again."

  "There's nothing to forgive," replied Sabrina coolly. There were no tears now. "I think you're right, Richius. I think you'll die if you don't do this. Your guilt is destroying you. It's so plain when I look at you. And I love you. Maybe someday you'll love me, too, but if that day never comes I'll continue loving you anyway, and you'll never have to say you didn't try to save her." She went to him and, lifting his chin with a finger, placed a light kiss on his lips. "I want you to return safely. Promise me you'll try."

  "I promise," said Richius, almost choking on the words. "Will you be here waiting for me?"

  Sabrina turned slowly and headed for the door. "I'm your wife," she said. "I'll be here."

  "Don't go," Richius cried, jumping to his feet. "I don't want to say good-bye like this. There's so much more I want to tell you."

  "No," Sabrina cautioned. "There's nothing more to say. I've already read it in your journal. I understand better than you think. And don't say good-bye to me. Leave in the morning without looking back. I'll wait for your return."

  "Will you come to bed with me tonight?"

  Sabrina shook her head. "I've made arrangements to share Jenna's chambers. I don't want to see you until you return."

  "All right," agreed Richius reluctantly. "And I will return, Sabrina. Whether I save her or not. I'll be the husband you're worthy of, I swear it."

  Sabrina said nothing, only smiled at him again. Moments ago it was she who had been like a child, wailing for him to love her. Now he was performing for her approval. He tried vainly to return her smile, flashing her only a tired grimace instead, and watched her leave the gloomy kitchen, dropping her tear-stained handkerchief behind her.