Blades of Fate

by Alledria Hurt

  "Gather yourself, Vadian. I've come for you." Then she pressed a kiss to his forehead. When he turned, he opened his arms to her and she slid into them. They lay together on the bed. Leviana gave him a hard kiss. He kissed her back as he twined long fingers in her hair. They broke away with a gasp for breath. She caressed his face and the subtle stubble there before gripping his hair hard to control his head. Then she pressed him to her chest. He lipped the fabric before finding her skin.

  "Leviana," he breathed into the valley between her breasts.

  "Vadian."

  Warden awoke in a tangle of sheets with Leviana beside him. His head throbbed in time to his heartbeat. Looking at her nakedness, he felt some part of him yearning for her, but that was a small part in comparison to the section of his mind screaming for him to leave this situation immediately. Stumbling, he pulled himself from the bed and nearly landed on his face. He looked back to see if he had disturbed her, but she lay like the dead.

  "What happened?" he questioned as he sought his clothes. They were where he had left them on the floor beside the bed. He dressed hurriedly. Pulling his shirt over his head, he froze upon hearing her move. When she didn't rise and berate him, he finished dragging his shirt over his body and fastened his belt. Could he leave before she found out? He had never had any problem removing himself from a situation, but this seemed a bit more complicated than most.

  Her beauty drew him. The peace on her face made him smile. Yet he knew something was not right. She should not have been in the bed with him. He had fallen asleep alone. Rubbing his chest, he felt places beneath the clothe where her nails had bitten in. He rubbed a hand over his head and took a deep breath.

  "Leviana."

  He remembered whispering her name, but had it been him? The night dissolved in a haze of shadows and flesh. How had this happened? Who was she to him?

  Perhaps the most important question was who was he to her?

  Vadian. He remembered the name, but it seemed so far away from him. Yet she loved him. Without anything else to hold him, he could leave. He had the best chance of surviving on his own. Eventually, his employer would tire of hunting him and he would be free to resume his profession with the stain of his failure disappearing over time. With her...

  His eyes traced the line of her hip to her breast and then up to her face. She slept with her lips gently parted and her hair tousled over her shoulder. The darkness of it made her seem all the paler. He shook his head and went to his saddlebags. He would leave; it was for the best.

  Throwing the saddlebag over his shoulder, he made for the door. She didn't move. He paused at the portal to gaze on her once again. From this distance, he could only see her in shadow. Warden ran.

  In the halls, he passed a woman carrying another tray and snagged a piece of red fruit off it. She shot him a dirty look, but he paid it no attention. At first, he thought he would lose his way through the cathedral, but he found the front door after some searching. Beside the door on the inside, the vizier stood in an alcove with his eyes shut. Warden moved closer and waved his arm at the man. He didn't move.

  "What the--"

  A moment later, the vizier opened his eyes and looked at Warden with a displeased expression.

  "Why are you out of your room?"

  "I want to leave."

  "Silence in the halls."

  "I can't tell you why I left my room if I have to be silent."

  The vizier stepped out of the alcove and opened the door with one hand.

  "Be gone," he said with little emotion. Warden shook his head and then ran out of the cathedral into the square. The gallows swung with a fresh body and an exhalation of decay moved across the stones. Warden scanned the space for his horse. The two horses were not far from the stairs waiting for him. Running over to them, he whistled to his horse. They both perked up their ears. The horses had not been cared for and their attitude was not pleasant. They whinnied and stamped at him as he approached. When he tried to mount, the horse stepped away and circled around him.

  "Come on!"

  With both hands on the saddle, he hopped around the horse trying to get his other leg up. Finally, he got on top of the horse and grabbed the reins. Kicking the horse into a trot, the other began to follow.

  "Stay here," he told it, but it didn't listen. The two horses ran together toward the head of the gorge away from the city.

  At the top of the gorge, hours later, Warden considered his options. He needed to stay away from Arathum for now. Looking toward the north, he saw the mountains.

  Sartol would be a good place to hide out. Membalar perhaps. The horses cropped at the non-existent grass. Shaking his head, he considered what to do next. Without Leviana to order his steps, he felt a little out of touch with everything. So much of his life had been going from one commission to another. Now he needed to make a decision where he would go to possibly starve? North. As far away from Arathum as he could get. Sartol was not far enough north. He would have to go further. He kicked the horse into a trot. Utica. The far end of Utica where the ice stayed year round. It would mean going further than he had ever gone before.

  Karlan stood north and west of where he was. It was a big enough city that he could possibly pick up a commission or two among the nobility and not starve. Then he could go further north.

  He would be alright.

  The headache behind his eyes refused to go away. Sickness throbbed through his body. He held onto the saddle with everything he had. Death shadowed him.

  Leviana in Backaran

  Though she had no window to confirm, Leviana knew the sun would be high when she saw the sky. She sat up in the bed alone and cast about for Vadian. If it had worked, he would be nearby.

  What if it hadn't?

  She pushed the thought away and pulled her nightgown to her to cover herself.

  "Vadian."

  No one answered. Putting her slipper-less feet on the floor, she padded through the room. The door stood thrown open and Warden's clothes, which had been on the floor, were gone. In the sitting room, the saddlebag he used was also gone. She went into her room as if she expected him to be there. Of course, he was not.

  "Vadian," she called again. Still no answer. The front door to their suite was open as well. She padded into the hallway past a tray sitting on the table. A mound of fruit watched her as she came back from the door. Where had he gone? The first touches of panic began in her breast.

  He had left.

  She went back into her room and gathered her things before dressing. If he had gone, she needed to go as well. Waiting here for him to come back was a fool's errand. Pulling her boots on, she considered what had happened. If Vadian worked his magic, why had he left? That meant Vadian certainly did not have control. Warden must be alive then. But why would he leave? She couldn't fathom it. They had been decent enough companions. Certainly he didn't think ill of her. They had protected one another.

  Walking out of her room with her saddlebag thrown over her shoulder, she trailed through the cathedral toward the front door. The vizier met her before she reached it.

  "Your companion has abandoned you," he said. "But keep the silence of the halls. I will help you leave." Leviana followed him to the front and then stepped out into the square. Their horses were gone.

  "Damn it, Warden, what did you do?"

  Her voice carried across the cobblestones and some birds turned to watch her. At a slow jog, she took off across the stones toward the city proper. Apparently she was going to have to find another horse. Where would she find one in this ill-fated place? Would she find one? Even so, she considered as she jogged, where would she go? She could go back to Arathum an attempt to reestablish her kingdom there or she could seek to hide. Hiding did not suit her; however, it may be the wiser course. With the entire empire arrayed against her, trying to fight them all would be folly. Yet she could not avoid the swelling in her breast that said she needed to fight for what was hers. Kendrick could not be allowed to get away with
what he had done.

  Entering the first of the streets, she stopped and looked around. Backaran did not have street signs as some places did, but that did not mean it was without directions. Instead it marked the area by color of the doors. She had entered a place where the doors were blue. Walking through, she looked around and then tapped on a nearby door.

  "Where would I find a horse?" she asked when the door was opened. The man at the door wore a pock-marked face and stood at a crooked angle. He did not hail her but rather looked on a simple slack stupidity she shook her head at. He could not help her. "Is there someone else here?"

  The idiot pointed into the street behind her and Leviana turned. The door shut with a snap and she heard the bolt being thrown.

  "Well that was useless."

  She tried another door. This one did not open for her. Wandering through the city, she tried to figure out her way around. Perhaps it would be better to return to the cathedral for a map. Yet she doubted the door there would be opened for her either. The city was done with her. It had only offered its hospitality for one night. Now she could hope for nothing. The Queen had what she wanted.

  Despair nibbled at the edge of her mind. Vadian was not with her. Warden had abandoned her. Her empire stood against her. A strange city reared up around her. All seemed dark. Closing her eyes, she said to herself,

  "As I am alive, I am free. As I am free, I am powerful. As I am powerful, I am alive."

  She opened her eyes and continued her search.

  The sun dipped below the edges of the gorge and she had not found a horse. Her legs were weary. The saddlebag on her shoulder felt heavy. Though she was not exhausted, she certainly was not fresh and night hurried forward. She needed to find a place to stay the night if she could not find a way out of town. Stopping at a green door, she tapped on it.

  "I require aid," she said.

  The man who answered the door cocked his head to one side and said,

  "And what do you have to offer in return?"

  "I have little, but what little I have is yours."

  "Then you may come in and share of what you have," he said. "I will not refuse someone who offers at least what they have."

  In his kitchen, a fire burned. Above it, perfuming the air, was a pot. White misshapen vegetables lay on the table beside a thin bladed knife. Beside the knife sat a loaf of bread.

  "I have some hard cheese," Leviana said. "I can offer that to your table."

  "It is welcome," he said. "I am called Packer. We are well-met."

  Rummaging through her bag, she came out with a piece of a wheel of cheese wrapped in cloth. She set it down on the table and looked at Packer.

  "You're not going to try anything?"

  "I rarely receive company. Least of all of the variety with a story to tell. My word I will not do anything to you if you will tell me the tale that brought you to this city." Packer moved around the table and picked up the knife. He twirled it on one finger before bringing it down on one of the vegetables, a carrot by its shape. His cuts were quick and precise, until he had a small pile. "A bit of thin soup, bread, and cheese. That should be filling enough."

  "Perhaps we could trade a tale for a tale," Leviana said. "You must have a tale or two to tell."

  "I have many, but few that would make for good company. Better to keep with the ghosts of my past," he said as he picked up another vegetable and began to dice it fine. "I will think on it and perhaps tell you something later."

  "Alright."

  Pulling out a chair, she sat down and waited for him to finish. He waved her away when she attempted to help with no words. He put the vegetables into the pot with some water and a pinch or three of spice.

  "It will come together quickly," he said. "Now to see about the bread and cheese."

  "I can cut that."

  "You don't need to. I will."

  Packer made short work of the heel of bread and the small wedge of cheese Leviana had left. Most of the supplies had gone with the horses, something else which rankled her.

  After setting the spread out before her, he went to a nearby shelf for bowls. The soup had only begun to boil. The vegetables were quickly turning to mush in the water, an unhealthy looking white mush that squished in the bowl. Packer spooned the mush into the bowls and offered her one. "It is not the best, but it is far from the worst Backaran has to offer."

  "What brought you here?" Leviana asked. She spread her hands on the table and waited for Packer to sit down before she reached for the bowl.

  "Tales of fortune," he said. "But that is hardly my choice in conversation. What of you? How are you here? What brought you to the mad city?"

  "I sought the Queen's aid. She was of little help."

  "Few come here for any reason beyond power. Are you certain that is not why you came?"

  "Power I have. There is no need for me to seek more."

  "Oh," Packer said. He held the bowl to his lips and sipped from it. With pursed lips, he blew on it. "Still a trifle hot."

  "Of course, it only just came off the fire."

  "Even so."

  "What fortune brought you here?"

  "You know the tales of Backaran, don't you? The tales that say it is a city of treasure beyond imagining and power greater than the wildest imaginings."

  "Those are old tales, of little substance."

  "Perhaps so, but they captured me. I sought the old city in hopes of making a name for myself outside of its walls by becoming the greatest treasure hunter within it. And that is all that I will say."

  "But you have not left?"

  "Enough about me. I want to hear about this power you have. I must be great or you would not risk coming here."

  "I was once Queen of an empire."

  "And now you're begging door to door in a foreign land?"

  "Even so," Leviana said. The mush looked at best unappetizing, at worst sickening. Yet her host seemed to have little problem with devouring it. She helped herself to a spot of cheese and a piece of bread. Perhaps she would try it later, after it cooled enough to be edible, assuming it ever would appear so. "I stood at the head of a dozen kingdoms, each owing homage to me as sovereign. Now I have nothing," she said. "Not even my companion."

  "So it was great power that brought you here, a quest for restoration. Did the Queen offer you anything?"

  "No, nothing of value. And now I have to find a horse and make my way away from here. Or I shall go mad."

  "If there is one thing this city is good for, it is madness. The Queen is mad. Her consort mad and dark. Her adherents madder still. I should know, I chose to live here."

  "Can you go nowhere else?"

  "I have nothing left. Perhaps I could make my fortune elsewhere, but it has been such a long time since I traveled. I cannot say how long."

  "Certainly not longer than my reign."

  "How long have you reigned?" he asked. His bowl sat empty on the tabletop. Beside it, he crumbled up a piece of bread. "News is slow to travel here with so little commerce."

  "Three hundred years. Before that, the empire was of only nine kingdoms and ruled over by a warrior-king."

  "I remember the warrior-king and how so many places quivered when he came near. Do you know the one I mean?"

  "He has been dead for three hundred years, but I knew him once." If she felt any strangeness at his admission, she showed nothing. Yet her mind turned on it. Three hundred years and he had lived in the mad city that long. He remembered Vadian as he built his empire.

  "I would hear of the world outside of the city," he said. "What has gone on in the between time."

  "The world has changed," she said. "The empire rules much and what it does not rule, it waits to devour. Utica was the most recent addition to the fold. They were valiant fighters, but they could not stand against the might of the empire. I was glad to see them fall. Too many lives were lost in acquiring it."

  "You speak of these things as if you were there to witness them."

  "My choice b
rought the might of the empire to bear; of course, I speak of them as if I witnessed them."

  "But it was not your arm which laid waste to kingdoms, it was another's."

  "What do you mean?"

  "You have spilled not one drop of blood in conquest," he said. "I wager that you have taken no lives on the battlefield to maintain your reign either. These things are important."

  "Who are you to question me?" she asked. "You know nothing about me."

  "I see into the Morl Eye. I see your future. Just as I have seen my own. It is to die here in Backaran when my time is up. Yours carries you far from here, but it will not be easy."

  Leviana pushed back from the table and stood.

  "I don't think we have much else to discuss."

  "No, but you may take the bread and cheese and leave me the soup. It has been a change to have company."

  She found herself shut out once again on the street with her seething anger settled on her shoulders. What was that? He knew everything there was to know about her? How could he? He certainly had not been out of that house in ages, she gathered. A tad sheepish she considered that she could have stowed her ire at least long enough to get some rest, she had been moving about most of the day. Now it was dark and she still had nowhere to lay her head or an leads on a horse to help her escape from this wretched place.

  "Damn it all," she said. "I will simply have to hide somewhere for the night and find my way in the morning."

  In truth, she had grown accustomed to sleeping in beds, but her experience included sleeping on far less. This would be one of those nights. Finding a relatively quiet and secluded post at the end of a street, she wrapped her saddlebags around her waist and then her cloak around that before settling down. Perhaps she should have cared more for the indignities, but for now all she wanted was rest. In her final moments, her mind turned to Warden and how far away he must have gotten. They were linked. Could she feel that link stretching until it might well pop like an abused chain? Perhaps.