Oathtaker

by Patricia Reding

  “I told you, Lilith, she is dead.”

  Her eyes narrowed. The smile on her face froze. It failed to meet her eyes. “Dixon, I want the truth.”

  “That is the truth. Why would I be false with you? Rowena died in childbirth.”

  Lilith glanced around the room, her eyes stopping for a moment on the men near the door. She seemed confused by what they tried to communicate to her.

  “Well, how very . . . unfortunate. The family will be . . . devastated, of course. You must come with me back to Shimeron and tell your story first hand. I expect the Council will want a full accounting as well.”

  “Really, Lilith, that isn’t necessary. I could hardly save Rowena from childbirth now, could I? What’s to investigate? I’ll just submit my report and then— Well actually, I’m thinking about taking some time to visit my family.”

  She studied him intently. “Really, I insist you come with me.”

  “Lilith—”

  “No, Dixon, I simply won’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  Her public insistence left him in a difficult spot. His refusal would only serve to offend her, and potentially to embarrass her.

  “Lilith,” he tried again.

  “Come, Dixon, I want to return home immediately.” She held his arm tightly.

  He couldn’t escape her clutches without making a scene. Moreover, he feared if he were to do so, that she might suspect there was more to his story. For now it was best to keep her close to himself, and as far as possible from Mara.

  Ted approached. “Pardon me, Dixon, I don’t mean to interrupt, but I wanted you to know that I sent Robert out to prepare your horse for you.” He tipped his head toward the front of the building.

  Dixon understood. Mara had left from the back, so Ted had asked Robert to bring his belongings to the front of the building.

  “I expected Lilith would want to get the news of Rowena home as quickly as possible, and I didn’t want anything to inconvenience or to delay you.”

  “Thank you so much, for everything.”

  “Certainly. You’re welcome any time.” Ted turned to Lilith. “It was a pleasure to meet you, ma’am.”

  “All mine, I’m sure.”

  “I’m sorry to see you leave so quickly,” Faith said. “Are you sure we can’t convince you to stay? After all, something must have brought you here to Polesk, to sanctuary?”

  “I . . . Well,” Lilith stammered. “I just planned a trip to visit a number of the sanctuaries in Oosa. I haven’t been to Polesk now for several years. I thought the people should see that we still work in their interests. Since this is one of the closest sanctuaries to Shimeron, naturally, it was my first stop.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  “Even so, with news like this, I couldn’t possibly continue on. It’s imperative I return home immediately. This is all so . . . shocking.”

  “But you will come back, won’t you?” Ted asked.

  Lilith smiled at him. As usual, the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes.

  “We’ll look forward to your next visit.”

  She took Dixon’s arm and made her way to the door. As they retreated, she placed a bracelet around his wrist.

  “Oh, no,” Ted whispered to Faith, “she’s taken him captive!”

  Within moments after they exited, the men who’d burst in behind Lilith, took up their weapons and made their way out.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Lilith rode at Dixon’s side. Her presence unnerved him. She’d always been insincere, but now he knew that she was also a traitor to her own kind. He pondered why she’d do such a thing.

  He knew the leader of the first family, upon reaching her full power, needed to solidify her standing with her siblings if things were to run smoothly. Unfortunately, once Rowena had accomplished that—or at least thought she had—she’d largely ignored the others. She’d been so involved with her plan for her daughters that she left the affairs of her larger family unattended. But when a leader did not function successfully as the head of the family, the other members could get out of line. Apparently Lilith had done just that.

  Dixon was surprised that he and Rowena had missed the signs, but then she never wanted to think badly of anyone. Still, Lilith was a typical sixth. Bent on having her way, she was driven by things of the flesh. She took the idea of freedom to its ultimate. To her, true freedom meant the liberty to do as she pleased. She epitomized selfishness. If one were to speak to her about the needs of others, her response would not be: “What others?” Rather, it would be: “There are others?” To Lilith, the only thing of importance—was Lilith.

  She rambled on about something. Dixon, lost in thought, didn’t want to listen to her, but neither could he be rude. He needed to get along with her for the time being, though he really wanted to squeeze the life out of the woman. The only good thing for now was the only thing that mattered: Mara had escaped.

  “I’m sorry, what did you say? I can’t seem to concentrate with this ridiculous band you put on me.” He held his arm up, showing the bracelet of magic she’d placed there—a bracelet that could only be removed by Lilith herself, since she’d placed it there, or by her Oathtaker, or by an Oathtaker who ranked higher than Dixon—which left only Mara since her charge included a seventh seventh, or by the Council if its members unanimously agreed to its removal.

  He fussed with the band, but of course, it was as one with his skin. A stranger would take it for a permanent body painting. “You know this is not necessary.”

  “Dixon, you really need to pay better attention,” she pouted. “I said Pompom is going to have puppies! Won’t that be so much fun? Can’t you just see all the little Pompoms running and playing?” She tittered and giggled.

  She looked ridiculous behaving as she did. He recognized it as her way of keeping people off balance. She might be despicable, but Ehyeh knew she was no fool.

  He’d have to be careful with her. But how long did she intend for him to stay at Shimeron? How long would she keep him banded? He wanted to get back to Mara and the twins as quickly as possible, but in the meantime, he’d glean what information he could from the palace staff. Blast! How could Rowena and I have missed this?

  “. . . and so I told her that— Dixon. Dixon! Are you listening to me?”

  “I’m sorry, I seem to be lost in thought today.”

  “Well I must say, you generally pay better attention to me. Something on your mind?”

  “This band, for one.”

  “Oh, never mind. It’s nothing.” She waved her hand in dismissal.

  “It is not nothing, Lilith. It means you don’t trust me. How could you do this?”

  “You know you must answer to the Council. I’m just making sure I can deliver you to them, as is necessary. When you’re cleared of any wrongdoing, the band will come off, of course.”

  “I’ve done nothing wrong.”

  She looked at him, still sulking. “Nothing wrong! But you’re not even paying attention to me!”

  He sighed. He couldn’t stand this for long. “Just missing Rowena, I suppose.”

  “Terribly sad, yes.” Lilith didn’t sound in the least like someone who’d suffered a loss. Portraying grief went beyond her acting skills.

  “Really, it’s not important that I go to Shimeron. I want to see my family. I haven’t been home for a long time. I could check in with the Council on my way.”

  “I insist you accompany me. I want to be there when the Council meets to hear the whole story, and to congratulate you when they find you without fault. Besides, I want you to help to keep me safe now that you don’t have to watch out for Rowena.”

  “That’s not my job. Marshall is your Oathtaker. He takes good care of you. What’s more, as you well know, I can’t use any of my attendant magic so long as I’m banded.”

  “Well Marshall is just . . . boring, that’s what! He’s not at all like you. I want you to be my Oathtaker, Dixon.”

  “I can’t, Lilith. You know that.
”

  “Well that’s what I want.”

  He turned to face her. He took hold of her reins and brought her mount to a halt.

  “That is horrible of you to say. Marshall puts his life on the line for you every day, and you don’t make things easy for him. He answered the Good One’s call and accepted you as his charge. You should have more respect for him.”

  Dropping her reins with a flick of his wrist, he urged Sherman forward. He might have to accompany her until he could get the accursed band off, but he didn’t have to be near her or to listen to her every word.

  She rode back up to his side. “Of course you’re right, Dixon. It’s just that,” she fluttered her eyelashes, “I so enjoy your company. I—”

  “Stop it.” He set his jaw tight. Refusing to listen to any more, he rode ahead to accompany the most forward members of her escort.

  Fields of long grasses spread out as far as the eye could see. A hawk flew overhead, its wings caught in a warm air current. Meadowlarks sang from unseen perches, accelerating their melodies, dropping into jumbling whistles, then moving back again into new songs. A marsh to the side of the roadway boasted cattails reaching up, their seeds just beginning to break free, looking as though they were begging for someone to pet them.

  “Hello, I’m Dixon,” he said to the head guard as he reached the man’s side.

  “Dixon,” the man repeated with a nod, “Miles.” He was dressed, as were all of the members of the palace guard, in dark gray pants and jacket, with black polished boots.

  “I don’t remember meeting you at the palace before.”

  “No. Just moved up in rank recently.”

  “How long have you been on the road, Miles?”

  “We left long before dawn.”

  “What prompted the trip?”

  “A rider arrived at the palace in the wee hours, demanding to see Lilith. He carried a message for her eyes only. She was awakened and met with him. Minutes later, she ordered us to get her things ready to leave immediately.”

  Dixon mulled this over. Likely, the men at sanctuary were the same ones who’d questioned Drake and Maggie. Had those men sent word ahead? Had his old friends told the men about Polesk? If so, he couldn’t fault them. He just felt terrible for having put them in danger in the first place. So, what might they have found out? If they were decent trackers, or depending upon what Drake and Maggie had told them, Lilith might know, or might soon discover, that he’d not been traveling alone.

  “And you rode straight to Polesk?”

  “That’s right. Lilith insisted we move quickly. We didn’t stop at all on the way.”

  The horses’ gait kept a steady rhythm. Their earthy, sweaty smell filled the air. Ears alert, tails swishing, they raised dust that now covered the entire retinue.

  Dixon rode side by side with Miles in silence, pondering what Lilith might be planning. He might not be safe with her. Then again, if she thought he had any information, she wouldn’t want him harmed. Still, he’d best be on guard. The woman wasn’t to be trusted.

  Well into the evening hours, the travelers neared Shimeron. Miles halted the group, then turned to Dixon. “It’s time to take your place in the carriage.”

  “What? Why?”

  “You’ll see.”

  Dixon dismounted, handed over Sherman’s reins, then made his way to the carriage and stepped inside. As he settled in, the entourage proceeded.

  Soon, from outside, came shouting. He couldn’t make out the words. He turned to Lilith and broke his silence. “What’s going on?”

  “Oh, you’ll see soon enough,” she replied, her lips pursed.

  From out of the darkness, the shouting became clearer. He looked out the window. A few dozen people stood near the gates to the palace grounds. Some marched. Their voices grew louder as the carriage approached. “Death to the Select!” they called out. Then, “Kill the Select!”

  His mouth dropped open. He turned back to Lilith, who sat stone-faced. “What is going on here?”

  “Well, Dixon,” she responded, condescension dripping, “if you and Rowena had stayed here where you were needed, perhaps this wouldn’t be happening.”

  “I don’t understand. What is happening?”

  Some of the protesters carried torches. Others carried signs hastily scrawled upon in letters of red, as though in blood, bearing slogans: “Down with the Select!” “The Select are Trouble!” “We didn’t Select them!” They pressed in toward the travelers. “Death to the Select!” they shouted.

  Something hit the carriage door, then came a thud overhead. Dixon flinched, even as the guardsmen closed in tightly around the carriage. Steel rang in the night air as they drew their swords. They pushed the crowd back with their threats of steel.

  A scream rent the air.

  “Back! Back, or you’ll be next!” a guard ordered.

  Dixon feared the carriage wouldn’t make it to the gates before the guards harmed more members of the crowd.

  After more scuffling and shouting, the carriage halted. Lilith sat, braced in her seat, Marshall at her side, his face expressionless. He held a sword in one hand, his Oathtaker’s blade in the other.

  “What has been going on here since we’ve been away?” Dixon asked of no one in particular.

  Lilith held Pompom close to her heaving breast. “It’s just the local rebels. Nothing to concern yourself about,” she spat. “The Good One knows you haven’t concerned yourself until now.”

  “That’s ridiculous. Rowena was not responsible for this, nor am I. I don’t know what’s going on here, Lilith, but I won’t allow you to press the blame that belongs to others, on me.”

  Men approached from the direction of the palace to open the gates. Shortly afterward, the procession advanced. Once inside, the guards escorted the carriage to the front of the white marble palace. It glistened in the moonlight. Wide steps rose up to the front doors. The flags topping the turrets flapped in the evening breeze.

  Marshall rose as the carriage door opened. He stepped out, then turned to assist Lilith. She made her way to the ground and then with a nod, dismissed her escort.

  Stable boys helped the guards with their mounts.

  The carriage, of light pearl gray, with a variety of intricate painted designs depicting leaves and vines set forth in greens and yellows, was festooned with the remains of what the crowd had thrown: eggs, tomatoes, and other rotting goods unidentifiable by sight or by their nausea inducing intermingled odors. Assistants arrived to clean and inspect it.

  Dixon hadn’t missed anything about the palace. He dreaded its endless protocol. Walking just behind Lilith and Marshall, he felt like a prisoner. I am a prisoner, banded like this.

  Up the long staircase they climbed as a staff member lit torches along the way. Flowerpots cast in designs of birds and animals flanked the edges of the steps. In the middle of the landing at the top, sat a fountain. Around it was room to lounge, provided one did not mind getting damp from the mist in the air. When they reached it, Dixon called out, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Dixon, do come in. It’s late, and that crowd can’t be trusted,” Lilith said. “You’re a guest here and you’ll soon discover that those discontents out there don’t hold to finding any differences between the Select and other palace visitors—including Oathtakers.”

  He held up his banded forearm and glared. “A guest, you say? Banded? More like a prisoner. Or what, Lilith, a criminal?”

  She frowned. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s for your own protection.”

  “Let me get this straight. You band me, and in doing so shut me from the very powers I would use to protect myself or others. Then with a straight face, you tell me it’s for my own good.” He shook his head. “Really, if you can’t be honest with yourself, you could at least be honest with me.”

  “Like I said, you’re being ridiculous. There are plenty of people who might not think too kindly of you, what with Rowena’s death and all.”

  “Judging
by the welcome of the crowd out there,” he said, pointing toward the gate, “you’ve managed to please the locals so well that I’d be considered a hero if they believed me responsible for her death.”

  Lilith huffed. “Come in now.”

  “I’ll be in shortly.”

  She didn’t want to leave him unattended. She tried to convince Marshall to stay behind, but he refused with a curt shake of his head; his duty was to her. In a flurry, she proceeded to the front door as someone opened it from within. So perfect was the timing of the palace staff that she didn’t miss a beat with her steps.

  Dixon looked down at the band he wore. Either Lilith had concluded that he was in little danger from the mob, or she intended to leave him at a disadvantage if trouble came. Still, it would likely be only moments before she assigned someone to keep an eye on him. Not prepared to go inside as yet, he paced around the fountain.

  “Hello there, Dixon.”

  “I see Lilith wasted no time in sending someone to watch over me.”

  He wondered what she was telling the palace staff. The truth? That I am here against my will and at her demand? That she banded me as she would a common criminal or a traitor?

  He turned around. The burning torches gave off a smell of pitch that tickled his nose. They flickered in the breeze and made popping, crackling noises. “Oh, Bernard, hello.”

  Bernard, a doorman, had served at the palace for many years. He knew everyone, and nearly everything about them. A small man, slightly stooped at the shoulder, he was well into the fall of his life. As with the earthly seasons, his autumn was accompanied with the loss of things: hair, a bit of hearing, his formerly acute eyesight, energy, patience, and time. People tended to overlook him, but Dixon knew better.

  Bernard held a wealth of information about the comings and goings of everyone at the palace. Although his perspective seemed somewhat naïve at times, in that he always looked for the best in everyone, when you needed information, he was often of assistance. Dixon was certain the man was not losing, with advancing age, his ability to observe, his memory, or his unfailing pursuit to do the right and proper thing.