Intimations of Evil (Warriors of Vhast Book 1)

by Cary J Lenehan

  Still they didn’t appear unfriendly. The small children stared as she drew near, but no one drew them back and some even smiled at her. She nodded her head back at them. To her left she could see a river. It had to be the Rhastaputra, which flowed down from the mountains and the lake to Haven and the sea. Ahead of her was more forest. As she kept walking the forest proved to be only a narrow belt of a hand of six hundreds of her small paces of trees. Beyond it were grasslands and then fields and then Erave Town standing on its peninsula where the green-surfaced lake flowed into the river. Boats were clustered in the river in the lee of the town.

  Ayesha walked in through the fields where men and women worked together. Their skins were mainly brownish, but whether this was natural or from the sun was hard to tell, although the pale hair on some gave an indication. She went past a low wall and then a caravan campsite, which had a large assemblage of wagons and a few horse lines in it. Then she went over a deep dry moat that looked, from the thick wooden gates at its ends, as if it could be quickly flooded if need be.

  The town walls were solid stone and mounted ballistae and the entry was through a stone arch with metal clad doors. Armed guards were at the gate. They looked curiously at her, but on stopping her only asked, in Hindi, if she knew where she was going. They did not seem very concerned that a single small woman could be a threat to their town, despite her arms. She replied that she didn’t know and they sent her down a street, past an unbeliever’s temple, and turning left towards the docks to find the Fisherman’s Arms. She remembered that it was often said, mainly by fishermen, that Allah does not deduct from a man’s span the time that is spent fishing and she thinking about this and the speculation that the people in the town were perhaps long lived brought a smile to her lips. The first floor of the inn was good solid stone, but the next two above it were timber, and it looked as if there were even rooms in the roof.

  Ayesha took this in and, with an appearance of timidity, entered the inn and asked to see the owner. A large smiling man with a thick black beard and black hair with brownish skin, this time with a descent that was at least part Havenite, appeared wiping his hands on his apron as he approached. He introduced himself as Anani Roy.

  “Oh Venerable Sir, I ask blessings upon your house,” said Ayesha. “I need a place to stay the night and have little money.”

  His smile tightened.

  She hastened on. “I can pay for a night if needed, but I am a skilled entertainer. I can sing, tell tales, juggle and dance the dances of my people.”

  His smile broadened again.

  “I was hoping, oh munificent one, that I might trade with you a night’s entertainment in this most noble establishment for a bed and some food?”

  The innkeeper thought for a moment. He looked Ayesha up and down, trying to gauge how shapely she might be under her robe.

  “Do not worry,” she said, “I have been told that I am most comely and I dance well and men will pay attention to me.”

  The innkeeper made up his mind and nodded. “Very well,” he said. “If you draw in enough business from the caravans and the boats then I will find you a bed and food. If you do not, then you must pay. Is that fair?”

  “It is, oh Patron of the Poor. I thank you profusely. However, I dance best if there is music and something to give a beat. Is there anyone in this most magnificent town that could do this small service for me?”

  “Actually, there is. Hamid is our cobbler here and he comes from your land. He plays a stringed instrument and his son plays a sort of drum. I will send a boy to see if they will come here for this. They don’t drink, so that they rarely are seen in my establishment, but they usually do not mind playing there if they are asked by someone.”

  “Thank you, oh Most Magnificent Solver of Problems. I cannot dance in these clothes. Is there somewhere that I can change and safely leave my things?” Ayesha indicated the weapons on her belt.

  A girl was called over and she led Ayesha up two sets of stairs before lighting a lamp and pulling a concealed rope that revealed a ladder that rose into the roof. She was led to a small room, obviously one that was meant for a servant. The bed was small, but it looked clean and the air smelt like clean straw. There was no smell of mould or of unwanted animals. A huge feather quilt covered the bed. This spoke much on the temperature in the roof in winter. There was also a small table with a jug of water on it and under the bed a pot.

  Ayesha thought hard about how to dress tonight. If she were to dance in public at home she would wear something on her head and a small bodice over a light gauze shirt. However, she suspected that this audience would not be used to the subtleties of movement that people would watch for at home. She decided to be daring and to leave off the shirt. This left her in a low pair of loose trousers and a bodice with a lot of bare skin and, while she had sometimes danced in this way before women, she was nervous about doing so before men.

  Would they think that she was a fallen woman? She had to be prepared to reject any unwanted advances. She also discarded her headscarf, but kept her veil. She was not going to doff that yet. Her brown hair she gathered loosely in a clip at the rear of her neck. After washing and prayer she outlined her eyes in kohl. She then put on her belt of silver bells and picked up her pack, now with only her zils, knives and juggling balls in it. With a swish of the hips and a faint jingle as she walked, she returned downstairs.

  Anani Roy introduced her to Hamid and his son. Hamid’s eyes widened at her appearance, but his son showed no reaction, beyond appreciation. He must have been born outside the Caliphate and did not understand how a decent woman should dress. Her face colouring, she profusely apologised to Hamid and explained her clothes. He looked around and nodded and introduced her to his son, Ibrahim. Ayesha explained that she was a favoured freed slave who had been given leave to see the world and bring back some new entertainment. Hamid looked dubious, but was soon involved in preparing to show their combined skills to the unbelievers. Hamid played an oud, its long bent neck rising from a timber base with a rounded back. Ibrahim had a riq; a small hand drum with cymbals built into it that could provide a more varied range of sounds than just a simple drum.

  Ayesha opened on the tiny stage with a dance. By the time she had finished it, caravaners were scurrying back to their campsites to return with others. As the evening wore on Ayesha displayed all of her skills, even bending backwards to stand on her hands and walk about on them. Money clattered as it started to appear on the small stage in a corner of the main room. Soon there were ‘chinking’ noises as coin was hitting coin instead of just timber. The three Muslims were the only ones that seemed to be imbibing water in the whole room and Anani, presiding over a rowdy chaos, which went quiet only when Ayesha sang or spoke, had a grin that grew broader as the evening wore on. That she would have a free place to sleep tonight was sure.

  Discovering that one caravan was from the Swamp, she sang a bawdy song in Faen and they responded roundly (and to the tinkling applause of much more money hitting the stage). Seeing that a couple of guards were obviously Khitan with topknots, long moustaches and shaved heads, she sang a song of the plains and the tents in their language. They nearly cried. Most of the songs and stories she sang or told in Hindi as everyone there seemed to understand it to some extent, and it was the tongue of the town. She juggled balls and knives and all of these activities went well, but the best response was to her dancing. She received several offers for ‘private’ dances, but these she declined so politely that the makers did not object.

  By the time the caravan masters had driven their animal tenders and guards back to their campsite and the boat owners had removed their sailors and rowers, the three entertainers had collected a sizeable amount of money and Anani had brought them all large platters of food without asking for any money. She was sure that what was before her wasn’t halal, that was going to be impossible out here, but at least it did not seem to contain any forbidden meats—at least that she could see. Hamid and Ibrahim were e
ating heartily. They divided the money and Hamid was so dazed by the amount that he had received that he started discussing with Ibrahim and Anani whether they should entertain more often at the inn and indeed whether Hamid’s wife could teach his daughters how to dance. That night they had made more money for the family than Hamid usually made in several days making shoes. After thanking both father and son Ayesha left them to their discussion and retired to bed. That night she slept soundly.

  Ayesha was woken by a knock on the door as a serving girl told her that breakfast was ready. After prayers she dressed and packed her few belongings before finding a large breakfast and, wonder of wonders, kaf, waiting for her. Anani was there and tried to convince her to stay in Erave Town and to work for him, but Ayesha declined, without closing the door completely, saying that she may be back some day, ‘Inshallah’.

  After eating she was on her way. She even had some extra food for the track. Even though she could easily afford to take a boat, Ayesha decided to walk. Despite the danger of travelling alone in an area she did not know, it fitted her cover story better to walk and she could more easily pretend to be poor that way.

  ~~~

  Two days of travel followed in the still woods filled with dappled light, many of the leaves turning orange around her. She stopped only to attend to nature, pray, eat and sleep. She did the last in a tree of course, one that was near a watercourse. She overtook a trader with packhorses and slowed to walk with him for a while and they passed three groups of carts going the other way as they went. It seemed that this road was well travelled and so should present few problems.

  The second night on the track, at some time after midnight, her senses woke her. Ayesha realised that something was moving below her, moving quietly and trying to be stealthy, but not trained in how to do it correctly. Most people would not have heard, but she was trained to be alert. She looked down to see two figures moving around. Both were Human shaped, but they were black, hard to see, despite the moon. They were not black as in the dark skin of the people from the southern isle were supposed to be, they were black—the colour of night. They were sniffing the air, searching and when one said something to the other she could see moonlight reflected from a mouthful of teeth. In her mind she realised what they were—not real people but Deodanth—eaters of men—children of some ancient evil.

  In the light of the fullness of Terror, the larger moon, Ayesha could see the two shapes casting around. She ran through what she remembered from her lessons. Deodanth were solitary, used weapons when they could get them, never wore clothes, had very tough and completely hairless skin and ate their victims raw—often while they were still alive, removing choice bits to snack on from a pinioned captive. At least they died as easily as men, if you could hit them—but they were fast moving and good with weapons. Each had a sword and shield and both were naked. It was just very bad luck to find one, let alone two of them together.

  Ayesha thought on her situation. It seemed impossible to just stay still. The Deodanth were searching around and it was simply a matter of time before they included the branches of the trees. Trying to string her bow would make far too much noise and they would be up the trees to get her before it was done and she could fire. Circumstances let Ayesha make a decision. The male was moving underneath her perch, while the female was ten paces distant and facing away. Quickly she drew two throwing knives and threw them at the female’s sword arm as a distraction. Without waiting to see the effect, although a bestial scream told her that she had hit something, Ayesha drew two more daggers and, as silently as she could, dropped behind the male. A thought crossed her mind hoping that his kidneys were in the same place as they were for Humans as she struck home with her blades. He had sensed her landing and was just beginning his turn as she struck. Both daggers drove home, plunging their full length in his vitals as Ayesha twisted them around before pulling them out. The Deodanth spun around, his legs already wobbling as Ayesha raised her left dagger to parry his blade. It struck weakly and as she tried to bind it with her left-hand dagger, she closed and thrust up under his chin with her right hand blade. His scream ceased as the point grated on the bone inside his skull and hot blood gushed over her hand. He collapsed at her feet, almost carrying her blade with him as he did. A metallic smell filled her nostrils.

  She had just pulled her blade clear when she saw the female approaching. She had thrown aside her shield and now grasped her sword in her left hand. Her right arm hung limp at her side, with Ayesha’s blades still in it. She must have severed something in the limb with her cast. The woman’s jaws gaped as she approached. Inside were the white pointed triangles of her teeth, strong and ready to rend. She was making a noise that may have been a language, or may have been a scream.

  Ayesha stepped around slightly, reversing her blades to lie along her arms. The male’s body was now a minor impediment to the female’s attack. As the female closed Ayesha feinted forward and then moved back, hoping to upset the female’s timing. It worked and she tripped slightly on her mate’s body. That was enough for Ayesha. She leapt forward, trapping her opponent’s blade with her own two and driving her knee upwards hard into the woman’s groin before carrying the sword away from her to her right. The creature howled and winced. This move freed Ayesha’s right dagger to slash across the female’s throat before reversing her movement and bringing the blade back to plunge deep into the muscles at the junction of neck and shoulder.

  The scream stopped, turning into a gurgle as blood gushed from the wound. It was obvious that she was dead. It was not obvious either that she knew this, or that she wanted to accept it. She was trying to make her damaged shoulder work, to free her larger blade and to strike at the same time. Ayesha withdrew her blade from the shoulder, changing her grip again to a blade forward style and plunging it towards the Deodanth’s heart beside her breast. Her efforts grew weak and her eyes glazed and she slumped to the ground, almost on top of her mate.

  It was the first time that Ayesha had actually had to fight seriously outside of training and her knees felt weak, but now she knew that at least her training had worked. Once she had made the decision to throw and drop to the ground everything had happened so quickly that she had not had time to think. Everything had been done on reflex and now two opponents, each one of them more powerful in a fair fight than she was, lay dead at her feet. The smell of blood was strong in her nose. As the reaction of combat wore off Ayesha could sense her pounding heart. She realised that she had been liberally coated in blood and it was already starting to go sticky on her skin.

  Recovering her throwing knives, Ayesha headed down to the nearby stream and, removing her blades, sheaths and belt, found a pool and immersed herself in it and began scrubbing. The water was cool, but not as chilly as the mountain streams that she was used to. She kept her eyes moving around in the dark—there could be more.

  Feeling cleaner, but very wet and with no means to dry herself, she regained the rest of her gear and began to clean her blades, drying them on her robe before oiling and donning them. She thought about going to sleep again, but doing it while wet was a good way to catch a chill, so Ayesha strapped the swords from the dead pair to her pack, strung her bow, and set out into the night. Hoping to dry off and to warm up at the same time Ayesha walked a little faster than she normally would. Her senses were alert to anything that might approach her. Apart from the normal noises of a forest at night, it was a quiet night and it did not have long to run. She decided to keep going during the day.

  ~~~

  By the end of it Ayesha was feeling very tired, so she decided to camp early. This time she selected a tree that was harder to climb, however the extra precaution was unnecessary as her sleep was uninterrupted. Except for traders on the road and, once, a pair of hunters, the next two days passed uneventfully as she passed through unfamiliar forest. Late on the second afternoon she began to come upon assarts and then came upon a hamlet with its fields. It was in an earthen ditch and had an encircling mound
. A wooden stockade was being built on top of the mound. The enclosure was old and had been meant for the much larger settlement that had stood there before The Burning and it was only now being reclaimed to use.

  As the sun was nearing the horizon she came upon the fields east of Evilhalt, the river that protected the town, and then the strong stone walls of the town itself. The whole image was softened by the red light of the setting sun behind it. She had forgotten that she had to ford the river and that she would be entering the town wet. Bundling her weapons so that she could carry them clear of the water, she crossed. The ford was wide and made of laid stone slabs so that the footing was good and even. Luckily the water only came up to the top of her thigh, and Ayesha was not tall. It was a wide crossing, almost a bow’s range across and the current was strong, but eventually she began to rise out of the water as the ford rose to meet the first gatehouse on a small island.

  Here Human guards speaking the language of the town, Dwarven, greeted her. She returned their greeting fluently, somewhat to their surprise, and asked directions to the inn. Rather than supply them they called over a small boy, explaining that he just brought their meal to them from the inn and would guide her there. In her embarrassment she had noticed their gaze lingering on her wet clinging trousers and outlined legs but, choosing to ignore this, just thanked them and followed the boy, first over a drawbridge and then through a smaller guarded gatehouse and into a long wide courtyard, walled on both sides and a death trap for invaders, before going through a third gate and into the town itself.

  It was a substantial town she entered, one built largely of stone but with timber and plaster upper floors. However the stone was left plain and the timber and plaster were painted in plain black and white. There was a lack of the decoration that she was used to. No gardens and no fountains were visible and she could not hear any water cascading behind walls. There were only the sounds of hammering and of people at work. She sniffed. The village could also do with a street sweeper working in it. Men and women walked around together and small children ran around and between them all dodging animal waste in the streets. The streets were sloped towards the centre where there was a stone ditch. It seemed that the streets here were only cleaned by rain. She would have to be careful where she trod.