The Bard's Blade

by Brian D. Anderson

  * * *

  They traveled for several hours, turning from the main road around midday onto a rough trail where the forest thickened. The uneven, pitted ground caused the wagon to jostle and bounce, battering poor Shemi relentlessly, who would wince and suck his teeth from the impact. Upon seeing Mariyah’s concern, he forced a smile and winked. But the façade was unconvincing.

  Just before sunset, they came to a wooden bridge that spanned a narrow river. On the far side, four more guards clad in the same uniforms awaited. After a brief exchange, two men reached in and dragged Tadrius out.

  “You’re a lucky man,” said one guard, removing the shackles. “Your wife negotiated a settlement and made restitution.”

  “Restitution?” Tadrius repeated, rubbing his wrists. “With what?”

  “Ten years of service,” he replied. “You’ll have yourself some lonely nights, I suppose. But you keep your land.”

  Tadrius was dumbstruck for several seconds before lowering his head and nodding in defeated acceptance. “Where are you taking me?”

  The guard laughed. “It’s not you who is serving. Your wife is. We just received the notice an hour ago. She must really love you. She would’ve had to ride hard to get to the bishop so quickly. I guess she didn’t want you brought before the Hedran.”

  “What of my children? Where are they?”

  “How should I know? At your farm, I would guess. So you should hurry back. Your wife is already gone.” When Tadrius did not move, the guard grabbed his arm and pushed him toward the bridge. “Go on. Before I forget I received the notice.”

  Shoulders slumped, looking both stunned and utterly beaten, he glanced back a silent apology to Mariyah and Shemi before trudging away. Mariyah could not imagine what must be going through his mind. Betrayed by the same woman who had sacrificed herself to save him. It did not salve Mariyah’s loathing or make up for what Nora had done, but in a small way Mariyah was glad for Tadrius. He had done nothing wrong—merely extended kindness to strangers. The idea of him losing his farm, not to mention his children, was heartbreaking. And while she was sad that the children would have to grow up stripped of their mother, perhaps it was best. Better no parent than one who would teach them to be disloyal to their own family.

  A second later, the wagon moved onward. As they rounded a sharp curve, she caught the scent of a campfire and the sound of voices. Off to their right a few hundred feet from the trail was a small wooden building. Both windows were covered with boards, and two men stood near to the door clad in red robes and each carrying a long silver rod with a fist-sized onyx eye affixed to the end. In a clearing opposite, about two dozen men and women, some in similar robes, others in common attire, were standing around several small fires, talking and laughing casually. A few glanced over in their direction, looking as if disgusted by what they saw.

  They pulled up in front of the building, and Mariyah and Shemi were ordered out. The two men by the door approached and silently bowed to the guards, and then grabbed Mariyah and Shemi by the arm and led them inside.

  The interior was an open room with a row of three benches to their right and a short platform in the center. To the left were five six-foot-tall cages, barely broad enough to fit a single person. A great red eye, like those atop the rods, had been sloppily painted on the rear wall.

  They were locked inside two of the cages, and the men then took position on either side of the dais, facing the door.

  This must be the Hedran, thought Mariyah. She could only assume those outside were to be their judges.

  “What happens to us now?” she called out to the guards. But they did not so much as turn their heads.

  Shemi slid down in the cage and tucked his knees to his chest. “Not very hospitable, are they?” he remarked, with a wince.

  “We’re going to be all right,” she said, trying to convince herself of this as much as Shemi.

  “Of course we are. You have the mighty Shemi to protect you.”

  The sheer ridiculousness of the statement had them both laughing. And for a few moments, it managed to dull her fear. She tried to tell herself that whatever happened, it wouldn’t be that bad. How could it be? They hadn’t stolen anything or hurt anyone. But no matter how many times she repeated it in her mind, she knew better. Tadrius hadn’t hurt anyone either. And now his wife, vile creature that she was, had been pressed into service for ten years. Admittedly, Mariyah had no understanding what service meant. But if the brutality they had endured thus far was an indication, it wasn’t something pleasant.

  After a little more than an hour, the door opened, and the men and women outside began filing in and taking seats on the benches. Hushed whispers filled the room as all eyes fell upon the prisoners. Mariyah’s heart raced madly. Though he looked calm, Shemi’s fear was betrayed by his white-knuckled grip on the bars.

  Last to enter was an older woman with shoulder-length dark brown hair. She was slightly hunched and wore the same robes as the others, only with gold borders around the sleeves and collar. She also held a similar rod, though longer so to be used as a walking stick. She mounted the dais and faced the assembly.

  Spreading her arms wide, she intoned: “May the blessings of Kylor be upon you.” Her voice was commanding and confident.

  In unison they replied, “And also with you.”

  “We have come here as brothers and sisters to form the Hedran, as is our sacred duty,” she continued. “If there is any among you who feels incapable of carrying out the will of Kylor, speak now.” After a brief silence, she said, “Then let us mete out justice upon those who would defy our Lord.”

  The two robed men approached the cages and unlocked the doors. Mariyah’s adrenaline coursed like fire through her veins. Their shackles were removed, and they were pointed to stand in front of the dais.

  Mariyah’s eyes darted over to Shemi, then to the unguarded exit. She thought he understood her intentions. If not, this would be a short and probably disastrous move. The men allowed them to pass, then returned to their positions.

  Mariyah was struggling not to look anxious, clasping her hands together to prevent them from shaking. Shemi looked notably relaxed, though he was favoring his right leg. Hopefully it was little more than a temporary lack of blood flow. They would need to run fast enough to get outside of the guards’ line of sight. If they managed that, shadow walk could keep them hidden until they were deep enough in the forest to shake any pursuit.

  “You of course know why you’re here?” said the woman.

  “I’m not sure I do,” Mariyah replied, sounding more defiant than she’d intended. Keep them at ease. Make them think you’re beaten.

  “Lying will only make matters worse,” she said. Her eyes fell on Shemi. “You are the elder. What have you to say?”

  Shemi folded his hands at his waist and bowed. “I am. But I’m afraid I’m not sure what you want to hear. We’ve done nothing wrong. A friend went missing, and we were merely trying to find him. We didn’t intend to break any laws.”

  The woman huffed. “You do not live by the laws of Kylor, true?” A look passed between Mariyah and Shemi, then Shemi gave a small nod in answer to the judge’s question. She then continued, “And yet you chose to trespass into his lands. That is more than enough to condemn you.”

  Mariyah could see that this was a formality, not a trial to ascertain guilt or innocence. She stole a glance at Shemi. He was still leaning slightly, but not as pronounced as a few seconds ago. It would have to do. From the look on the woman’s face, time was running out.

  She pictured the layout beyond the door. The surrounding area was heavily wooded. They would only need to make it about one hundred or so yards.

  “If you will allow us to leave,” said Shemi, “we promise never to return.”

  “You should have thought of that before coming here.” She turned to the others. “As you have heard, the heretics have offered no defense. Does anyone wish to speak on their behalf?” Her words were met by more s
ilence. “Then as lawful judge and anointed servant of Kylor, I find the two pitiful souls here before me to be guilty of heresy.”

  Mariyah’s arm shot out and grabbed Shemi. “Run!”

  Shemi did not hesitate, moving quickly to the door despite the pain in his leg. Mariyah expected at minimum for the two cloaked men to try to stop them. They were only a few feet away. But they did nothing. Nor did anyone else in the room.

  Outside stood two guards. They spun, reaching for their blades, but Mariyah had anticipated this and let her foot fly. It sank into the nearest man’s groin with a thump, and he doubled over. Shemi charged past and buried his shoulder into the second guard’s chest, sending him stumbling back. His slight frame wasn’t enough to topple the much heavier man, but a well-placed fist to the nose immobilized him.

  “Hurry!” Mariyah shouted, forcing Shemi to the lead. His leg was clearly a hindrance, but he was able to run. They rounded the building just as the door opened.

  “Leave them,” called the voice of the woman.

  Did they intend to just let them go? It seemed unlikely. The forest was closer than she’d thought, and even slowed by Shemi, they were into the trees and brush in seconds. The tingle of shadow walk itched in her belly.

  “It only works if no one can see you,” said Shemi, slightly out of breath.

  At first she didn’t understand, but then it dawned on her. Shemi was looking right at her. Shadow walk only worked if no one was looking directly at you.

  “I don’t want to get separated,” Shemi said, his eyes still on hers.

  “Just keep moving,” she said. “It’s dark anyway; we don’t need to shadow walk.”

  And so far there was no sound of pursuit. Maybe they were going to let them escape.

  They continued running until they were a bit deeper into the woods before Shemi halted and dropped to one knee. “We can’t run aimlessly,” he said. He lowered his head and closed his eyes, catching his breath.

  Mariyah was not as skilled a hunter as Shemi, but still she drew up beside him and began to steady her breathing. It took almost a minute before she could hear anything over the thudding of her heartbeat. But gradually she was able to tune it out and listen to the rhythm of the forest. The earthy scent of dead leaves and rich soil filled her nostrils. Wind hissed through the high reaches of the pines, detaching weak limbs and pinecones that bounced off the lower branches and landed on the soft turf below. Small animals and insects chirped and squeaked, rustling about, feeding and avoiding predators, struggling for survival, unconcerned by the comings and goings of the human interlopers. Truly a world within a world.

  She reached out with her senses. No one was coming from behind. And no one was in their path for at least a few hundred yards. It was said that hunt masters like Shemi, who had spent years wandering the forests of Vylari, could detect a mouse in the dark from a quarter mile away. Though this was a bit of an exaggeration, their skill was amazing.

  As she opened her eyes, something caught her attention. Not a sound or a smell; something else. A … feeling. Shemi was already on his feet.

  “Did you hear something?” he asked.

  “No,” she replied, dismissing it as fear-induced paranoia. “I think we’re going to be all right.”

  “Strange they haven’t come after us,” Shemi remarked, rightly concerned.

  “I’ll take whatever luck comes along at this point.”

  “No argument from me,” he replied.

  They continued at a quick pace, but after another few yards, the strange feeling had markedly intensified. Something was out there, hidden in the dark. She stopped short and again listened, but heard nothing other than the natural sounds of the forest.

  “What is it?” asked Shemi.

  “I’m not sure.”

  They slowed their advance. In her heart she knew they were in danger. But it wasn’t a someone waiting for them. And she felt certain no animals capable of harming them were in the vicinity. Of course, there might be beasts in this world she had never encountered.

  Shemi kept close beside her, his experienced strides virtually silent on the leaf litter and underbrush. The feeling grew deep in her belly, waves of anxiety so strong it took all her willpower to not break into a panicked run.

  She was about to tell him that there was nothing wrong and quicken their pace when she felt a warm sensation rising through her boots. A loud sizzle and what sounded like the cracking of a whip startled them to a halt. Before they could react, a blue light rose beneath their feet in a twenty-foot-diameter circle.

  Both Mariyah and Shemi instinctively tried to leap back, but it was as if their feet were fastened to the ground.

  “What’s happening?” Mariyah cried. “What is this?”

  Shemi pulled at Mariyah’s arm, frantically attempting to free her. But his efforts were useless. Whatever had trapped them would not let go. There was a second sharp pop, and thin streams of white light shot upward, striking them both in the chest. Mariyah’s entire body seized, pain ripping through her head and neck. She could barely hear Shemi’s cries above her own. The acrid smell of burned hair and clothing assaulted her as the pain spread like a flame over dry grass, wrapping around every inch of her body.

  She could feel her legs lose strength, though the pain was so excruciating she could not tell if she had fallen to the ground or was still held upright by whatever sinister force had caught them. A shock to the back of her head, like someone had stabbed her with a long needle, ended her torment, allowing darkness to claim her.

  9

  BATTERED BUT NOT BROKEN

  Justice is the only vengeance worth seeking. Alone, it is wrath; hollow and devoid of virtue.

  Book of Kylor, Chapter Two, Verse Five

  Wave after wave of throbbing pain afflicted his entire body, forcing Lem from the blessed refuge of unconsciousness. As the world returned to the fore, so his agony increased. He tried to open his eyes but quickly realized that both were swollen almost entirely shut. Only a thin line of blurred light was able to penetrate his battered flesh. Reaching up, he touched his face. His skin felt unreal: the outer layer numb, yet stinging spitefully just beneath the surface.

  “Don’t try to move.”

  Though he couldn’t see her, he recognized Zara’s voice. A cool rag was pressed gently against his forehead.

  “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Durst can get out of hand at times. Particularly when it comes to me.”

  Lem attempted to sit up, but the pain increased unbearably. He fell back, blindly waving his arms to swat away Zara’s touch.

  “I know you’re angry,” she said, her tone soft and caring as if she were genuinely concerned about his condition. “But don’t you worry. I’ll be punishing Durst. You can count on that. Truth be told, he’s very sorry about what he did.”

  “It’s over,” he managed to mumble through swollen lips. “I’m leaving.”

  Zara laughed. “Is that right? And just where do you think you’ll go?”

  He no longer cared what happened. Whatever fear he once had was overcome by rage. “I’m going with Farley.”

  “Farley? I’m sorry, Lem. I’m afraid Farley left town this morning. He was quite put out that he didn’t get to hear you play again.”

  Lem strained to open his eyes a little further. He could now make out Zara sitting on the edge of the bed, her head tilted to one side and a bowl of water on her lap. “I don’t care. I’m leaving anyway.”

  “And what will you do for coin?” she asked. “While you were unconscious, someone came in here and stole your instrument. They even took the coppers you had stashed away.” She clicked her tongue. “Poor boy. But don’t you worry. I’ll get it back for you in a day or two, once you’ve had some time to heal … and to think about what’s best for you.” She leaned in close, her voice just above a whisper. “Durst will be watching your room, just in case anyone thinks you have more to steal. I’m even hiring a guard to stay with you when I’m not around … for sa
fety’s sake, naturally. We can’t have this happening again, now can we?”

  Hatred the like of which he had never felt flooded into Lem’s heart as she exited the room. He was trapped. Without his balisari, he had no way to earn a living. And without the little coin he had brought with him, he could not even buy a lesser instrument. Even if he found a way to escape Harver’s Grove, what would he do then? Starve, most likely. But at that point, anything was better than remaining under Zara’s thumb. He swore that he would leave and never look back as soon as he was able, regardless of the outcome.

  The problem was, Zara would be watching his every move. If she really intended to hire a guard to stay with him, which seemed likely, he would need to find a way of slipping out unnoticed. He could try to shadow walk, but the timing would have to be perfect.

  Of course, before anything else, he had to heal sufficiently to travel. That would take at least a few days. Then maybe he could track Farley down. He allowed this hope to comfort him. Yes. That was the plan. Find a way to escape and then go after Farley. A troupe like his was sure to have a spare instrument he could use. In spite of this, the thought of leaving his precious balisari in the clutches of Zara rankled him to near madness. He could, he supposed, wait until it was returned; she would have to give it back at some point if she wanted him to continue playing. But if he waited too long, he might miss his chance of catching up with Farley.

  Zara checked in on him a few times throughout the day, though when she brought him food he refused to eat. This feeble show of defiance elicited little more than a half-hearted scolding. Zara was in control, and she knew it. She had him right where she wanted him. Each time the door closed, he experienced the same feeling of helplessness that plagued him upon leaving Vylari, gnawing at his spirit like an infestation of termites. But unlike before, it was not joined by despair. Instead a rage was building—a murderous fury for which there was no salve and no respite.