Lioness of Kell

by Paul E. Horsman

  His face broke free of the water, and he gulped the air into his lungs. A mighty splash not far away, and a deluge of seawater that half drowned him, marked the wyrm’s fate. Coughing violently, Jurgis tried to keep his nose above the surface. Then, he nearly fainted as a large dolphin showed his head close by and grinned. Its incomprehensible voice sounded like a hoarse flute. More of the big shades joined the first, and they pushed him. Not to the ship, but past it. They went fast. Jurgis felt the sea rush past his body as they hurtled along with a speed no ship could match. He couldn’t see where they went; waves and spray blocked his vision. Finally, the dolphins slowed, and he saw a green line of palm trees not far away. Now a single dolphin nudged him on, till his feet touched the bottom and he staggered toward a yellow beach. Ten, fifteen steps he managed, before tumbling forward in the hot sand.

  Maud cursed at the sailors wrestling with the ship’s boat. ‘Jurgis,’ she cried, staring at the bobbing head of her love in the water. ‘He’ll drown!’

  ‘Look!’ A sailor pointed to the water. ‘Sea people.’

  ‘They’re attacking him!’ Maud cried, raising her pistol.

  ‘No!’ With great daring, the sailor gripped her arm. ‘They’re helping him.’

  Maud saw how the dolphins were pushing Jurgis, keeping his head up. ‘This way!’ she cried. ‘Push him this way!’

  The dolphins didn’t heed her shouts. With great speed, they carried Jurgis away, toward the islands in the distance.

  ‘Damn you, stupid beasts! Bring him here! Bring him here!’ Maud lowered her fists as the dolphins disappeared with Jurgis, and for the first time in many years, she cried.

  ‘Belay that boat,’ Yarwan called. Exuding calm, he said to Maud, ‘We won’t catch them. The dolphins will beach him on the nearest island. We’re following and we’ll pick him up there.’

  ‘I can’t see him,’ Maud said. She’d never felt as helpless before.

  ‘The sailor at the masthead will know,’ Yarwan said. He put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘You’re not going up. The lookout is capable enough; you’d only be in the way.’

  When Jurgis came to, he lay in cool darkness. The sand beneath his body had turned into stone and his whole body smarted from his antics with the wyrm. As he tried to move, he became aware of the rope binding his hands together behind his back and for a moment, his breathing faltered. He was a prisoner.

  He fought down a wave of panic. Keep calm! Focus on the situation. They were the Old Ghost’s words and never had they been truer.

  With an effort, he managed a sitting position and looked around. He was in a bare room, a rough stone cell not utterly dark because of a tiny hole in the outer wall. Facing him was a stout-looking wooden door. Spiders had found a welcome home here and a furtive patter in the silence nearby made him shudder. Rats! He hated rats. Don’t think of them. Concentrate.

  He leaned back against the stone wall and listened. For a moment, the scurrying rats were all he heard, but after a while the thought of them receded and he noticed other sounds. The dripping of water somewhere. A regular banging sound he couldn’t place. The sound of footsteps. Footsteps! Fully alert now, he came to his knees and waited.

  A key rattled in the lock and the heavy door opened inward wide enough for a small figure in a brown robe to slip past, the deep hood hiding his face.

  Jurgis stared in surprise. ‘Saul!’

  The other started.

  ‘So you know my name?’ His voice sounded familiar, unlike the artificial tones in which he’d spoken before. ‘No matter. I know who you are; brother to the Spellwarden, may the gods shrivel his pisser.’

  ‘Why am I here?’ Jurgis said aggressively. The sight of the hooded boy had allayed his fear and a mighty anger filled its space.

  ‘You’re in a safe place,’ Saul said. ‘Don’t be afraid, I want to talk to you.’

  ‘I’m not afraid, you lousewit. Untie my hands!’

  ‘Watch what you’re saying,’ the young mage said. He kicked Jurgis’ knee and a sharp pain made the thief’s blood boil. In a reflex, he threw himself at Saul and bowled him over. The boy fell on his back and Jurgis rolled on top of him. He banged his head into Saul’s stomach and the other screamed. Wriggling furiously, Saul managed to free an arm, and a knife flashed in his hand. ‘Lay off!’ he snarled. ‘Away from me, or I’ll slice you!’

  Jurgis looked at him and his mouth fell open. Saul’s hood had fallen back and now his head was bare. ‘Gods,’ the thief said, stupefied. ‘We’re triplets.’

  ‘Damn you!’ Saul lunged forward and pressed his knife against Jurgis’ throat. ‘I should kill you! I should! I ...’

  ‘But you won’t,’ Jurgis said, his calm the biggest lie in his life. Inwardly, he shuddered. The emotions running across Saul’s face, his own face, were horrible to look at.

  The boy before him screamed. ‘I ... won’t ....!’ Then he slumped. ‘No,’ he said, and his voice was normal now; sounding like Basil, but deeper.

  Saul sighed. He ran his hands through his long auburn hair just as Basil did; so alike and yet so subtly different. ‘Sit down. I wanted to talk anyway. I’m glad it’s you and not that fool Basil.’

  Jurgis remained standing. ‘Basil ain’t no fool, never make that mistake. He’s very powerful behind those silly ways of his.’

  Saul spat. ‘The Spellwarden! That title should’ve been mine. I’m the eldest, you know. By a full ten minutes.’

  ‘You were? What happened?’

  The other clenched his hands. ‘I was stolen.’ Waving his arms, he started walking around. ‘He told me all. How the midwife was in his pay. Then, when I was born, the traitorous healer had me smuggled from the tower and delivered into his hands. After that, Basil and you were born. That cursed midwife must have played more sides than one, for she kept your birth a secret as well. How did you fare?’

  ‘Our father gave me to the birthmother. Then he paid her off, and she left to marry a merchant in Port Brisa. I was raised as their son.’ Jurgis leaned against the wall and eyed the pacing Saul. He’s like Basil in that; too nervous to stay still for long. ‘Who is this he?’

  Saul stopped in mid-step. ‘The most cursed warlock alive. Kelwarg!’

  ‘The Black Warlock?’

  ‘You’ve heard of him?’

  Jurgis grimaced. ‘Yes. What does he look like?’

  His brother stared at him. ‘I don’t know. You may think it strange, but I’ve never seen his face. We communicate–the few times we do–through a crystal in his castle.’ He started walking again.

  ‘So nobody tells you what to do?’

  ‘I have my instructions. But I’m free in how to execute them.’

  ‘You are? Then why did you try to kill us?’

  Again, Saul halted. ‘I didn’t!’

  ‘You did.’ Jurgis fixed the other with his eyes. ‘First over the Lornwood, when your wyrm killed the crew of the dirigible I was traveling in. Then when we left the Tower Aware, you sent a second wyrm. Basil killed it. Next that silly trick with the troll, and now a third wyrm. Do you hate us that much?’

  ‘Sorry about the last wyrm. I freed it, as I’m about to return to Vanhaar. I knew you people were on my trail, but not that you were that close or I would’ve given it orders to leave you alone.’ He glanced at Jurgis. ‘How did you know I was holed up here? Reconstructed my flight paths?’

  ‘Your ...? You mean the direction you fled in? Yes.’

  ‘Thought so. That was careless of me.’ He gave Jurgis a straight look. ‘I had no hand in the Lornwood attack; Kelwarg did that. Afterwards, he told me to go and find any survivors. He didn’t say it was you, though. I found that out when I saw you and the Kell girl on that river barge. It was a shock. Then you yelled at me and I fled.’

  ‘So you were that walker,’ Jurgis said. ‘I wondered about that.’

  ‘Yes. And I’m not at all fond of walking.’ He scowled. ‘I told Kelwarg I hadn’t seen anyone. The wyrm at the Tower Aware is news to me.’


  ‘Perhaps that guy Volaut arranged it. Though Basil thinks he’s not strong enough for such tricks.’

  Saul shrugged. ‘I don’t know the fellow.’ He hesitated. ‘I don’t hate you. Either of you. I dumped that troll in your lap to make you mad enough to go after me. Only I hadn’t counted on that sneaky bastard Basil’s trick. I just wanted an opportunity to speak with one of you. Apparently, Fate was with me, for once, as she dumped you right into my lap.’

  ‘And now you’re hiding here,’ Jurgis said with a faint sneer at the ruins around them. ‘All alone.’

  ‘I don’t like other people, brother,’ Saul said. ‘Besides, it’s temporary. I have a nice set of rooms in our tower in Vanhaar.’

  ‘Bitter’ights,’ Jurgis said casually. It was a hunch, something Basil had asked his father, that day in the Overhouse.

  His brother stared at him. ‘Now I wonder how you happen to know that. Yes, Bitter’ights Tower.’

  ‘Among our enemies.’

  Saul shrugged. ‘They think I’m one of them, an orphaned Unwaari. Our peoples are very similar, you know. If it weren’t for those idiotic masks, they would never have attacked us. They won, but the war decimated them.’ He grimaced. ‘The Magonaut was their flagship. I’m still looking for a way to tell them I lost it. They won’t like that at all.’

  ‘Will you be punished for it?’

  Saul frowned. ‘I don’t know. Probably not.’

  ‘Why were you preying on those villages? Are your people pirates?’ Jurgis watched his brother, curious how much he was willing to say.

  Saul was silent for a moment. ‘You know about the Faces of Aera?’

  ‘They caused the Unwaari War.’

  ‘Some time ago, there was a rumor of a Chorwaynie ship having found them. Just a rumor, mind you.’ He shrugged. ‘The Magonaut was searching for this ship.’ He started his walking again. ‘Ever since the four Faces disappeared, things went wrong in Unwaar. They started those idiotic wars in which they lost too many people, and all for nothing. They killed their trade partners; their goddess doesn’t answer their prayers, their nation is going to pot, and they no longer know what to do. Only that they must have those masks back.’

  Jurgis burst out laughing. ‘You look very like Basil with all that pacing and arm-waving.’

  Saul stopped in midstride and pointed a finger at Jurgis. ‘Basil should beware. Kelwarg is after him. The Black One is a monster. A terrifying monster. You’d all do well to be afraid of him.’

  Histrionics didn’t impress Jurgis, and it showed in his face. ‘Why did he steal baby you?’

  In a calmer voice, his brother said, ‘He was unable to beget children, and he wanted a gifted child he could train to do his will. That I was a son of Argyr of Winsproke, the man he hated most in the world, was a bonus.’

  ‘So he wanted a trained dog.’ Try as he would, Jurgis couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

  Saul stilled. His face grew taut and his eyes large as he whispered, ‘Yes, but I didn’t train as well as he hoped. I hate him, but I have to obey him.’

  ‘Why?’ Jurgis said. ‘Why don’t you just run away?’

  ‘I can’t.’ Saul slumped. ‘He cursed me. If I ran, I would wither and die.’

  ‘A curse,’ Jurgis said. ‘I’m no expert, but doesn’t every curse have a counterspell?’

  ‘Not really a curse, it’s a spell of binding. And yes, there is a counterspell.’ Saul’s face was miserable. ‘I even know where it is, for he told me. He wrote it on a slip of paper and put it into a great book he has. His Tome of Old Ways. He keeps it in the tower, although it’s useless to him.’

  ‘Why useless?’ Jurgis thought he knew the answer, but he didn’t trust this new brother of his far enough to tell.

  ‘He can’t read it anymore. It seems he had made some special key to open the book, and lost it when he had to flee after his fall.’

  ‘Could you get at the tome?’ Jurgis asked.

  Saul looked at him. ‘Yes, but what good would that do? He slipped the counterspell inside—you can do that, you know. Now he can’t get it back out. I’m bound to him for ever and ever.’ He straightened and his face drained of all emotion. With his hand to the door he turned. ‘I must go. Don’t waste your time looking through the ruins. I did, but robbers plundered everything ages ago. I’m going home. It was nice meeting you, my brother. Try to sleep, you’re looking somewhat peaky.’ He smiled, but his eyes were dead as he took out a small glass ball from his pocket and threw it down. Bluish smoke curled up from the shards and the boy chuckled.

  ‘Why you ...!’ Jurgis launched himself at Saul, but his brother slipped out and closed the door behind him. As the blue-tinted gas reached Jurgis, all became blurred. He knew he fell and after that, nothing.

  The first island they saw had a wide beach of golden-white sand. Behind it, the jungle waited, vibrantly alive and impenetrable. To the left was a cluster of low stone buildings, squat and bleached brown, with gaping holes where once doors and windows had been. The flat roofs still bore fragments of colorful sunshades, forever flapping in the sea breeze.

  Maud didn’t care for the mystery of the abandoned settlement. She cursed the crew for being slow in lowering the boat and for rowing like old whores and ...

  ‘As a cusser, you ain’t no inspiration,’ Basil said after a while. He sat wedged in between the six Jentakan of the search team, but he had long gotten used to the discomfort.

  Maud growled deep in her throat. She knew he was right. With her mouth clamped shut, she jumped into the surf and waded to the beach.

  ‘Spread out,’ she commanded. ‘Watch for signs, footprints, anything. And don’t trample all over them. Call me if you find something.’

  She didn’t have long to wait. A few boat-lengths inland, a trail of footsteps led from the water toward the ruins. ‘Found it!’ Maud followed the tracks, with Basil limping behind her. ‘He walked from the sea, and here,’ she pointed at a ruffled bit of sand, ‘he must have dropped down.’

  ‘Then someone came,’ Basil said, pointing at a second set of tracks, leading from the deserted buildings and back. ‘And dragged him away.’ In silence, they looked at each other.

  ‘Let’s see where this ends.’ Leaning on his staff, the Spellwarden trudged through the loose sand, with Maud following mutely. The trail led them to a door in a small building facing the sea.

  ‘It’s not a house,’ Maud said. ‘Too small, and no windows.’ She kicked open the door and jumped aside. Nothing happened.

  ‘It’s a stairwell,’ Basil said, peering into the gloom.

  ‘We’re going in.’ Maud entered the narrow building. ‘Damn, it’s dark.’

  ‘Wait.’ Basil mumbled something and the dragon on his staff started to glow with a coppery light.

  Maud grunted.

  ‘You’re welcome,’ he said, and they went down, with the six sailors close behind them.

  At the foot of the stairs, a small hallway opened in three directions. Maud stood and listened. Somewhere, a door slammed shut. ‘Damn, was it straight ahead, or to the right?’ she muttered.

  ‘Ahead, I’d say.’ Basil gestured with his staff and the light played wildly along the walls.

  ‘Why?’ Maud said.

  Basil gave an unexpectedly Jurgis-like grin. ‘Lazy housekeeping.’ He nodded to the floor of the corridor. ‘See the drag marks leading to the middle door.’

  ‘Damn,’ Maud said. ‘I ... I’m not thinking clearly.’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve never felt this way.’ Then, with a snort of disgust, she marched into the corridor.

  Basil limped after her. ‘If you want my light, slow down,’ he said after a while.

  What Maud wanted was to run like mad through those endless corridors. She knew it wouldn’t help; she should be calm and professional like a lioness ought. A growl escaped her, but she adjusted her speed.

  The trail changed at a heavy door. The drag marks in the dust disappeared inside, nearly obliterated by
other footsteps leading in and out of the room.

  ‘Alert!’ she said, and drew her sword. The six Jentakans had their weapons in hand and stood ready when Maud kicked the door open and rushed inside.

  The cell was empty.

  Something flashed in the light of the staff and Maud stooped to pick it up. ‘It’s his knife,’ she said, her voice hoarse. ‘I’ve seen it often enough. Jurgis was here.’ She wanted to scream with frustration.

  He didn’t kill me. That thought filled Jurgis with satisfaction. His arms still ached, and he felt stiff from his twisted position on the hard floor, but he was alive.

  Groaning, he struggled to a sitting position. He moved his bound hands, trying a trick the Old Ghost had taught him for reaching into narrow spaces like secret hiding places and such. The tendons of his hands relaxed, and that gave him some wriggling room. After a few minutes, he managed to free one hand and then the other. He came to his feet, clenching and unclenching his fingers to get the stiffness from them. Then he checked himself. His belt knife was gone, and he supposed Hala’s spear would be at the bottom of the ocean; he couldn’t remember dropping it.

  He moved to the door and on impulse, tried to open it. Then he froze; it was unlocked. A trick? His burglar’s mind was suspicious of easy things; they could well be traps. Without a sound, the door opened further, stiffly against the spring near the top. All remained quiet.

  He looked into the corridor. Small beams of light entering through little holes in the walls played over the dusty floors, and the sole pair of footsteps leading to the left. Jurgis smiled grimly. They must be Saul’s trail. He stepped from the cell. With a loud bang, the spring pulled the door closed. Jurgis froze, and he stood listening, but no one came. His confidence grew, and he followed the traces, sure they’d lead him somewhere near an exit.

  The tracks turned a corner, past several desolate rooms with ruined furniture and rotting carpets, to a rickety staircase. Every step up creaked like the breaking of a tree and every creak made Jurgis’ heart jump in his chest. Still no one came. No guard cried a warning, no running footsteps or the clatter of weapons. Nothing.