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by Patricia Reding

  “Right you are,” he said, grinning.

  Once again, the dog growled.

  “No, dog.” He patted its head. “I’ll let you know if you need to teach these two a lesson. Seems things are well in hand.”

  The canine lurched forward, a growl deep in its chest.

  “Dog,” Jerrett said, holding him back with an outstretched hand, “down!”

  “It’s just like I said,” Sally sneered, “you’re no better than that beast at your side. You’re all alike.”

  The wagon’s back flap opened. Then a guard addressed the Oathtaker. “You’re to deliver these women to Zarek’s dinner this evening, at his orders.”

  “You heard him,” Jerrett said to them. “So, I guess I’ll see you later.”

  He left, then quickly made his way toward Cark’s office.

  Marshall! he shouted magically, as he neared it.

  Yes?

  Zarek added to the group that will attend his dinner this evening. I’m to escort Sally and Janine there.

  You can’t attend!

  No, of course not. I’m not supposed to attend. I’m just delivering them there.

  Still, with your powers for hearing . . . perhaps you can get more information.

  Yes.

  What did you learn of Broden?

  Jerrett filled Marshall in. So you see, Zarek’s men invaded the compound. I suppose it’s fortunate the twins weren’t there at the time—though it’s odd to know they’d left camp before that. In any case, I guess it was a blessing in disguise. But the men did find Broden there.

  Why would Zarek think that Broden is his son?

  He told him he was.

  Why would he do that?

  I think it’s obvious, Marshall. Somehow, he learned the truth. Once he arrived, Sally and Janine confirmed his identity, by a birthmark. But . . . there’s more.

  Oh?

  He has Carlie.

  Carlie!

  I’m sure of it. Zarek gave Broden some slave women. One of them, a young woman captured as a slave, he calls . . . ‘Mouse.’ You know, that’s been Broden’s special nickname for Carlie since she was just a little thing.

  Several long seconds passed in silence. Finally, Marshall spoke again. You’re going to have to keep an eye on everyone. I’ve agreed to go away for a time to meet up with a special delivery coming in from Cragston.

  Why?

  The farther away I am from Sally and Janine, the better. Now, until you know more about Broden, keep clear of him. What if he planned all of this?

  He wouldn’t. Do you think?

  There’s no way to know, Jerrett. If he came here of his own accord . . .

  I can’t believe that.

  We just don’t know, Jerrett.

  But what about Carlie? They’re holding her against her will and—honestly, it seems impossible that Broden would side with Zarek.

  I agree, and I’m willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. If both he and Carlie are here against their will, we should try to help them to escape. But if Broden’s a traitor . . . Well, for safety’s sake, we can’t let either of them see us until we know more. Marshall paused. Listen, I leave first thing in the morning. Meet me tonight after the dinner so that you can fill me in on all you learn.

  It’s a plan. Jerrett hesitated. Oh, what is this special delivery you’re leaving for?

  The women, Jerrett—the slave women who are to live at the new facility.

  The canine he’d found earlier never left Jerrett’s side. Bearing a mottled coat of grey and brown, with black flecks between its eyes, around its head and down its back, its searching yellow-green eyes fairly glowed when they caught the light. Witnessing its hackles rise whenever someone approached, the Oathtaker surmised the animal could prove useful. He dubbed him “Bane.”

  As dusk fell, Jerrett, with Bane at his side, set out for Sally and Janine’s wagon. Upon sight of Zarek, Pestifere, and Broden, coming his way, he ducked behind a nearby tent.

  Bane stood, watching, his eyes glaring. He let loose a low, throaty growl.

  “Shhhhh,” the Oathtaker warned as the trio neared his hiding place.

  Bane glanced Jerrett’s way, stepped back to his side, and then went silent.

  “I hear she’s recovering nicely,” Zarek said, the sound of a chuckle lacing his voice.

  “She is,” Broden said.

  The three men turned in unison. With the use of his attendant magic, Jerrett concentrated to catch more of their conversation before they passed out of his range of hearing.

  “You should take better care of your property,” the priest said.

  If Broden responded, Jerrett didn’t make out what he said, as a soldier stepped before him.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked.

  Jerrett turned his way, even as Bane growled and lurched at the man.

  “Stay!” the Oathtaker ordered.

  The man held his hand at his throat. Once assured the canine had halted, he looked at Jerrett. Then, “Oh, it’s you,” he said. “Jabari, right?”

  “That’s right. I’m on my way there,” he said, pointing at Sally and Janine’s wagon. “I’m to deliver the women for Zarek’s dinner.”

  “He’s vicious,” the soldier said, nodding toward the Oathtaker’s companion.

  “He’s all right, I guess.”

  “He’s been hanging around here for weeks, but never approached anyone before.”

  “Hmmm. Well, he came to me earlier today and hasn’t left my side since.” Jerrett stepped away. “I’ll go get the women now.”

  When he arrived at Sally and Janine’s wagon, one of the posted guards announced his arrival. Seconds later, the women stepped down from their wagon.

  “Right this way,” Jerrett said.

  Sally harrumphed.

  As they neared the building where dinner was to be served, the Oathtaker kept an eye out for Broden. When he didn’t see the young man, he ordered Bane to stay, before entering with the women. Then, he pointed them in the direction they should go. Once done, he stepped into the kitchen. Having scouted out the building earlier, he’d discovered a place from whence he could listen in on the conversation with little risk of discovery.

  The staff didn’t notice him as they busily prepared a feast of roasted wild turkey, boar ragu, salmon cakes, vegetable tian, grilled roots, and various sweets. The scent of fresh herbs, onions and garlic, filled the air, along with the sweet smells of honey and cinnamon.

  The Oathtaker stepped to the back of the room, entered a larder, and then exited it from the rear. He made his way down a rickety staircase to a limestone cellar. There, he positioned himself in a cove cut into the stone. Just overhead, a natural air vent fed cool air into the room above where dinner would be served. He settled in, making himself as comfortable as possible.

  Moments later, voices sounded out. Jerrett lost himself in the conversations.

  “Broden,” he heard Sally greet the young man, “we’ve waited for you to stop by. Remember? We were to talk of your mother.”

  “Yes, of course. I’ve been quite busy.”

  “From all we hear, you’ve had enough time on your hands to cause trouble.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes,” Janine said, “about this slave girl of yours. Will she survive? That was quite a beating she took.” Her voice held a smile. “You should be more careful. Still, I remember Lilith exacting her dominion over her subjects. It seems you really are your mother’s son.”

  “And his father’s, don’t forget,” Sally added.

  Jerrett grimaced, saddened to hear that Broden seemed to be a ready participant in Zarek’s venture and responsible for Carlie’s apparent situation.

  “Beware though, Broden,” Sally cautioned, “Zarek is not likely to give you the same freedom with others as he has with this— What is it you call the young woman? Mouse?”

  “Excuse me,” Broden said.

  Jerrett surmised that he’d stepped away. He leaned in closer.


  “No, there’s no time to lose.” This time Zarek spoke. “I already ordered a contingent to head to Oosa. They set out when we headed here. Their mission is to identify the best places for my invasion.”

  “Is that likely to be soon?” someone, likely a soldier, asked.

  Zarek laughed. “Yes, very soon. But you know, this camp intrigues me. I know Cark intends to hold slave women here, but it’s given me ideas for bigger plans.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes. If it’s possible to incarcerate women for our . . . purposes, then why not others? We must, of course, eliminate the expense of it all. Still, I’ve decided: we’ll simply imprison our enemies—the Oosians we capture—then make use of them. We don’t need big buildings—just plenty of guards. And we have those here.”

  “Of course the Oosian women could join the other slave women here,” another man said, “but what use would we have for the men?”

  Once again, Zarek laughed. “Slave labor, of course. They’ll make our weapons.”

  “Keeping them all? Feeding them all?”

  “Yes, we’ll keep them,” the emperor said, “but that’s it. They’ll all be expendable. We’ll work them to their end. It’s simple, really. All we’ll need is a way to . . . dispose of them afterward.”

  “Have you discussed this with Cark at all? I’m sure he’ll be of great help.”

  “No, but I intend to—and soon. I’ll need this camp ready to accept the new slaves. It seems the logical place, being so close to the Oosian border.”

  “And if the prisoners refuse to work?”

  “That’s easy,” Zarek said. “Then they die.”

  The soldiers speaking with the emperor, laughed.

  “I’m also thinking that we ought to recruit directly for support from the Oosians. Who knows what terror they could instill there on our behalf? I’ll give that some further thought . . . By the way, where is Cark?” Zarek asked.

  “He should be here any minute, sir,” someone said. “I stopped by his office just a short time ago to confirm that he’d be on his way soon. He assured me that he’d be here shortly.”

  “I am not accustomed to waiting.”

  “Yes, sir. I could check on him, sir.”

  “Never mind. We’ll give him a few more minutes.”

  From his place of concealment, a sudden violent earth shaking surprised Jerrett. Sandstone pellets dropped down upon him. From the commotion above, he knew the event surprised Zarek and his dinner guests as well, though within scant seconds, they all returned to their prior conversations.

  Jerrett brushed the sand from his hair, then settled back in to learn more.

  Cark had informed Marshall that he was to watch Chaya during Zarek’s dinner. Then, when the commander returned, Marshall would prepare to depart with the group headed to Cragston for the slave women.

  The Oathtaker entered the Cark abode. A deep, nearly palpable silence, greeted him.

  Suddenly, a crash, followed by a bloodcurdling scream, sounded out.

  A shiver ran down Marshall’s spine. His heart raced and the hair on his arms rose. He ran toward the sound, to the kitchen, then burst through the door.

  Cark grabbed him and shoved him against the wall. He held a channel below his chin. “It was you,” he sneered.

  The Oathtaker’s eyes quickly scanned the room. He noted Chaya’s presence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The man’s eyes followed his gaze. His brow rose as he grinned, wickedly. “Of course you do. She told me everything.”

  Chaya, in a heap on the floor, shook her head, crying. “No. No, it’s not true, Marshall. I—”

  “Marshall?” Cark said. “I thought your name was Mansur.”

  “I am Mansur.”

  “Huh. Well, Mansur, or Marshall, or whatever you call yourself, your secret is up. I know you’ve been in my things.”

  “Wh— What are you talking about?”

  “You were in my things,” Cark repeated, through gritted teeth. “What were you doing there? What are you doing here at Camp Cark?”

  The Oathtaker’s thoughts spun. The man’s weapon almost grazed his chin, but he couldn’t move with Cark’s full weight upon him. Moreover, he couldn’t reach his blade. At best, he might get to his own channel.

  “You might as well admit it.”

  Shaking his head, Marshall inched his fingers toward the sheath holding his weapon. He looked back at Chaya, heartsick that she’d betrayed him.

  “She even told me about this,” Cark said, bringing the point of his device within a hair of his prisoner’s chin.

  Marshall’s eyes narrowed. “Your channel? I don’t understand. What about it?”

  “Not my channel, you fool. The one you gave her. The one she tried to kill me with.”

  The Oathtaker blinked rapidly, trying to collect his thoughts. If Cark held the channel he’d given to Chaya, then he held his own without knowing it. Had she killed him with it, everyone would have believed that he’d killed himself.

  “I don’t understand. What did she tell you about it?”

  “She told me that you gave her your channel,” he said. “You know, sooner or later, you’d have failed to pass inspection without it.”

  “I see.” Marshall’s mind raced. So the man thought he’d given his weapon to Chaya. Then Cark wouldn’t know that Marshall still carried his own. But what all did she tell him?

  “She tried to kill you? I . . . I swear I didn’t give her my channel.” That much was true, anyway.

  “What were you doing in my fort?”

  “Your fort, sir?” Marshall unlatched the cover of his weapon’s sheath. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, as he opened the clasp. His fingers lit upon his channel.

  Cark pushed his weight harder against the Oathtaker. “What did you come here for?”

  Slowly, Marshall extracted his weapon. He closed his eyes. “I’ve no idea what . . .” With that, he turned it on Cark with his right hand, as he pushed the man back with his left, all his force and energy behind the motion.

  Cark dropped to his knees. He sucked in a breath of air. “What?” He reached down to find the Oathtaker’s weapon protruding from his side. “What did you do?” He sucked in a breath. “You’d best run,” he then said, struggling to get each word out. “You . . . cannot . . . hide . . . now.” With that, he fell to the floor.

  Marshall took a step back. He glared at Chaya. “They’ll know it was me. How could you have betrayed me?”

  “Marshall, no, I swear I didn’t. I swear.”

  “You gave him that,” he said, pointing at the weapon still in Cark’s hands. “You gave him the channel you could have killed him with, and no one would have known. Now I’ve no choice but to get out of here.” He pivoted to go.

  “I swear, Marshall,” she sobbed, clutching his ankle. “I swear I didn’t. He must have gone down to that place that I showed you. I didn’t know he’d gone there, or I’d have waited above, to kill him when he tried to leave it—just as we’d discussed—so his body would be left down there and wouldn’t be discovered for some time. I could have made my escape. But I didn’t know! And then he— When he found me, he started beating me.” She put a hand over her swollen eye. “He demanded to know who’d been down there. I don’t know how he knew we’d been there. I swear it!”

  “But you gave him the weapon anyway.”

  “No! I took it out to use it on him, but he overpowered me. He asked where I got it, then started laughing. He said he knew it had to be you because you’re the only one who’d ever been here in his absence.” She cried. “Please Marshall, I swear I didn’t betray you.”

  His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I can believe you, that I can take that chance.”

  “Please, Marshall. I swear I didn’t betray you. Let me help you. Let me go away with you. Please, I beg you.” She struggled to her knees. “I swear I didn’t tell him anything. What can I do to convince you that I want to help yo
u with your cause?”

  He set his jaw. Then a thought came to mind. “My cause?”

  “Yes. What can I do?”

  “My cause is to serve Ehyeh through service to His Select.”

  “Yes! What can I do? Please, tell me. I’ll do anything!”

  He stretched his shoulders back. “I don’t know if it’ll work, but . . .”

  “Anything!”

  “All right, then. I have no charge of my own. You know that.”

  “Yes.”

  “But I have sworn to protect two special Select. Their names are Reigna and Eden.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You told me of them. I remember. What do you want me to do?”

  “If you want to help me, then swear your allegiance to them. Swear you’ll do anything to help them—that you’d die for them if need be.”

  She caught her breath. “I don’t even know them, Marshall, but if they mean that much to you, I’ll do it. I swear on my life I’ll do anything to protect Reigna and Eden.”

  At that very moment, the earth shook.

  “Push harder,” Marshall ordered.

  Chaya gasped for breath. “I’m pushing as hard as I can. He’s so heavy.”

  “There we go. That’s good. I’ll open the trapdoor.”

  Marshall pulled the rug back, then opened the door to Cark’s fort, as the man had called it.

  “There. Now, go!”

  Together they pushed with all their might. Seconds later, Cark’s body fell into the room below with a resounding crash.

  Marshall reached for the ladder, kept below, then set it near the trapdoor. “Quickly! Get down!”

  Chaya climbed down into the room below.

  “Give me a minute.”

  Marshall ran to the front door and unlocked it, then returned. After starting down the ladder, he reached for the rug to conceal the trapdoor as he closed it. Once done, he reached out with his magic.

  Jerrett!

  Yes?

  I’ve got trouble. I have to leave here right now.

  Leave?

  Yes. I’m taking Chaya with me.

  Chaya!

  Yes. Did you just feel the earth shake?

  I did. What was that?

  She swore to protect the twins.