by E. V. Greig
Hugo frowned. “You mean that they are nomads – I’ve encountered such tribes before in my life.”
“Then you understand - about Uleno?” She gazed up at him then, her large blue eyes clouded with misery. The dim flicker of the lamp played across her tawny skin, casting weird shadows beneath her cheekbones and deepening the blackness of her hair into an inky pool.
“Not exactly; explain it to me.”
“I was bonded to him - he was my herdmate and I failed him! I let him be killed! I can never go to Ullensia now. I am an exile.” Kaiwan sobbed despite herself. “I should have protected him.”
“There now, girl - cease your sobbing. I saw that creature...I fought it! What could you have done against it - alone, unarmed? You distracted it from the boy at least. Take heart in that.”
Much to his chagrin, Kaiwan did not appear to be at all comforted by his words. Indeed, if anything, she looked offended. She pulled away from him. “You do not understand at all! I ought to have been able to stop the nhynquara - I am the Ca’Ryln!”
“You said that this morning too. What is the Ca’Ryln?”
“I am sorry, Hugo. I should never even have mentioned it. I am not supposed to tell anyone.”
“I asked you a question, girl: what is the Ca’Ryln? And why are you not supposed to tell?”
Kaiwan turned her face away. Her voice was soft when she answered him. “I am not supposed to tell in case the agents of the Vor’Barysk should learn where I am.”
An icy dread filled Hugo then. “Why would they seek you?” He grabbed her and pulled her close once more. “You are just a woman - scarcely even that! What possible threat could you pose to them? Damn them, why are they even here? This world was supposed to be safe from the Vor’Barysk!”
“But it is!” She squirmed slightly and he realised that he was hurting her. He loosened his grip a little and she continued, staring up at him once more. Her eyes were wide but not from fear. “This world is safe, Hugo. I am the Ca’Ryln - I am the one who will be sacrificed in order to close the gateway to the Vor’Barysk’s realm.”
They sat in silence for a long moment then, as Hugo took in just what it was that she had told him. At length, he placed a rough, calloused hand on her slender shoulder and pushed her gently away from him. “I’ve wronged you greatly, Kaiwan. You have more courage than most to have accepted such a task. Perhaps I will be able to serve your cause, when the time comes.”
Kaiwan stared at him. Her lips parted slightly as though she were about to protest his words. Hugo kissed her before she could speak. Then, suddenly all too aware of the impropriety of all this, he pulled back. Getting to his feet, he stumbled back downstairs to sleep by the stove instead. To his horror, she followed him. “Damn it girl, let me be!”
Her hands cupped his face and she traced the scars there with her fingertips. “You saved me. You saved me in the Vale, and you saved me here. You keep on saving me. You are clearly the hero I wished that I could meet.”
“Then you should make better wishes!” He turned his back, only for her to dart in front of him once more. “Have you no wit, girl? I told you to be gone!”
“I will not leave you.”
Hugo snorted. “You must have been dropped on your head repeatedly as an infant! Keep away from me: I have a terrible rage in my heart. I’ll harm you if you stay.”
“There is no law on this world to stop you from doing so. Beat me, break my limbs, lock me up and starve me if that is your wish. It is your household, after all.”
The smith sat down abruptly, buried his face in his hands and sighed. “What sort of world is this, that you’d call such things my right?”
Kaiwan had no answer for that. She knelt beside him and rested her head on his shoulder. “Please. Let me stay with you.”
Hugo groaned and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close in a gentle hug. “Just stop trying to kill me with sylth, alright?”
“Alright, Hugo.”
He stroked her hair. “Men such as I, Kaiwan, men such as I cannot have kin. We only know how to hurt and kill.”
“I do not believe that of you. You make things - you work with metal and fire! That is a great skill.” She huddled a little closer to him. “You do not have to be a monster, Hugo.”
“I never called myself a monster!”
“Are you going to be angry with me again now?”
He chuckled then despite the rising dark tide and kissed her forehead. “I swear that you shall be the ending of me!”
“Then we shall be each other's ending, and none else shall ever be able to harm us!” Her pupils gleamed and there was a sudden high pitched whine through the rafters of the cottage.
Hugo grimaced. “Was that a spell?”
“Yes - a protective spell.”
“How about from now on, you don't cast any more spells on me without my permission, eh?”
“Alright.” She nuzzled against his chest. “So what did it mean? When you placed your mouth on mine?”
“Just go to sleep, damn you.”
Chapter Nine
Kalios gasped as the dark place beyond the mirror spat him out. The outside world overwhelmed him: the light was too bright, the air too sweet! How could he live in this? Such perfection! Such wonder! What was this that he lay amongst? Tall grass - grass! And there - a tree! And above him - oh, above him! The sky! Freedom! He was free, at last! He rolled over onto his back and lay there laughing.
He was still laughing when the Ullensian riders found him there almost a day later. Their leader, Naikran, stared at the spectacle before him for a long moment before signalling his warriors to bring the idiot boy along with them back to their camp. “Let the shamans look at him. Perhaps he is mad forever, perhaps not. Either way, he is clearly one of us and we do not abandon our own.”
∞∞∞
They stared up at the unexpected interruption to the landscape with a mixture of wonder and fear. Ruiryk found his voice first. “How is this possible? How could a stone keep have simply appeared out of nowhere?”
Banor spat and hefted his axe, as he had so often done before. The familiar gesture was oddly comforting to them both. “Don't know lad - must be some kind of sylth at work. Those damn sylvanthir, maybe.”
Ruiryk nodded slowly. Some of the architecture did look anthiri, particularly the inner towers. “What do you think, Luath?”
“Haph is angry.” It was all that the bard would say. The three had followed the tracks out of the vale and up into the pass. It had not been an easy journey - between the restless dead and the sylvanthi raiding party, there had been plenty to hide from and to fight. They had lost the trail in the dark and had waited until dawn before pursuing it further. Luath had neither eaten nor slept for two nights now and Ruiryk was beginning to worry about him. When the first rays of light touched their camp, Banor had led off once more.
The old varyn was grim faced - fearful for Corinne, Kaiwan and Althanor. “Tha’ never should have left those three alone.”
“The Vale was supposed to be safe!” Ruiryk flushed angrily. “How the hell were we to know about all of this? A wyrm, sylvanthir, ihldhyr, and now a sylthal keep - can you please explain how anyone could have expected this to happen?”
Banor stepped forward and ran one calloused hand over the stone of the wall. “This wall was crafted by varynthir, a long time ago. It remembers. Not the varynthi tribes from our world, mind: it came here from another place. Cold mountains, snow, war drums beating. A dying land – they fled here.” He stepped back, shaking his head to clear it of the fog of stone whispered memories. “This keep is from another world - somewhere called Kaseden.”
“How do you know?” Ruiryk was sceptical.
“All varynthir can speak with stone.” The voice came from behind the nearby gate. Looking, they saw a small woman dressed in a blue woollen gown. She had pale skin, long black hair in a thick plait and blue eyes. There were two dozen men in full-plate formed up around her. “Welcome to Brie
rsburge - you must be Ruiryk, Banor and Luath. We were just about to come and look for you. You have saved us a journey. Kaiwan and Althanor will be pleased to see you.” She spoke Anthiri as if born to that race.
“They’re here?” Banor stepped forward.
She nodded. “Yes - one of my smiths was out looking for survivors of the wyrm attack. He found them and brought them back. They’re safe I assure you.”
“They’d better be!” Ruiryk squared his shoulders and glowered at the strangers.
Banor elbowed him hard in the stomach. “Shut tha’ face, Ruiryk! We’re outnumbered either way. Now then wench – where be Kaiwan and the wee lad?”
The woman smiled broadly at them and signalled for her guards to unlock the gate. “Come in and see them for yourselves.”
Banor led the way into the keep, still mumbling softly about the stonework. Ruiryk followed him, half-carrying Luath. “Our friend is ill. He refuses to eat or sleep.”
“We have an infirmary here. The healers may be able to help him.” She led the way across a bustling courtyard.
Ruiryk eyed their hostess as she walked. “So who is it that owns this keep?”
“That would be me. My name is Lady Naomi Du’Valle. And you, as dashing as you are, remain far too young for me to fall for, so please don’t bother trying to seduce me.”
Banor took pause to lean against a stone column and belch. “About time somebody left tha’ speechless!”
∞∞∞
Elharan was enjoying the prospect of a thick slice of freshly baked bread and perhaps a few tender moments alone with Madame Dolores – the head cook from the main kitchen – when he heard the screams. Turning on his heel, the aged guardsman loped to where the commotion was coming from. “This had better be important!”
He rounded the corner of the stables, and froze. Olef Vernsson was hanging against the stone wall of the granary; impaled through the chest by a length of roughly worked metal. The young guardsman had a ragged shirt clenched in his cold hand. There was a steady lapping sound coming from near the dead man’s feet. Peering behind some shattered barrels, Elharan spotted Lady Naomi’s pet cat. It was feasting on the blood that had pooled on the ground and growled when Elharan shooed it away.
A chamber maid was huddled in a nearby alcove; whimpering and retching into a basket of what had been clean bed linen. Elharan closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. It was going to be a long day, and he had best get on with it quickly.
∞∞∞
Ruiryk and Banor had been seated in the refectory with a large platter of smoked meats and cheeses whilst their hostess sent for Kaiwan and Althanor. Naomi herself had gone to the infirmary with Luath.
It was not long at all before the refectory doors opened and Althanor raced in. “Ruiryk! Uncle Banor! You're alive!” The young par’anth flung himself into their arms. Banor caught him in a fierce hug and kissed the top of his head.
Ruiryk hugged both of them, hoping fervently that Banor would not be offended and wondering where Kaiwan and Corinne were. “Althanor, where is Kaiwan? Where is Corinne - is she here too?”
“Mother isn't my mother anymore.” Althanor started to sob. “She turned into a nhynquara! I want my father! Where is he Ruiryk, where is he?”
The two mercenaries exchanged glances. How were they going to tell Althanor that his father had been taken by the same silver wyrm that they had robbed, nearly a decade hence, and that had sworn revenge, sworn to hunt them down. She, whose name was enough to empty a village in less than a heartbeat: Sherni!
Then Lady Naomi returned. She was no longer smiling. “I’m afraid to say that we have had an incident within the keep. It occurred fairly recently - possibly after your arrival here. Tell me please, have either of you left the refectory? As it’s possible that you may have witnessed something that could help us to uncover what happened.”
“What sort of incident?” Ruiryk was wary.
“A very serious one, I’m afraid.” She sat down opposite them. Her eyes looked suddenly different: impossibly old and sad. “A man is dead. One of my guards, a lad named Olef Vernsson.” She put her hands up over her face and sighed deeply. “He’d just turned nineteen. His mother is hysterical and his father is out for blood. It is a very bad business.”
“So what, you think that we did it?” Ruiryk scowled. “Well we didn’t! We haven’t set foot outside of this refectory since you left us here!”
Banor nodded grimly. “Reckon tha’ need to tell us where Kaiwan is now, and then she, we and Luath will just be on our way - unless tha’ want trouble?” He ran his calloused thumb along the edge of his axe.
Althanor blinked. “But what about Hugo: Kaiwan is part of his household now - Lady Naomi said so!”
Ruiryk drew his favourite knife at that. “Who gave you permission to give Kaiwan to anyone?”
Naomi blinked and rose to her feet. “You misunderstand: I put both Kaiwan and Althanor under Hugo’s protection since it was he that found them and brought them here.”
“Is that true Althanor?” Banor looked at the child.
The young par’anth frowned and shook his head. “I’m not sure. Hugo did rescue us, sort of. But Kaiwan had already used her sylth, so maybe he didn't really need to. He did carry us off afterwards though. He brought us here on his horse. And he shouted at Kaiwan. I heard him. I couldn’t wake up but I heard him shouting. And then he gave me to Lord Von Rosenhof to be a page because I wasn’t any use in the forge.”
“Why couldn’t you wake up?” Ruiryk had locked the door of the refectory.
“I don’t know.” Althanor shrugged. “My soup tasted horrid. Maybe it was off or something. Maybe that’s why I couldn’t wake up.”
Ruiryk laughed bitterly. “Now why it that I very much doubt that Kaiwan’s woeful cooking is to blame for that?” He stepped towards their hostess. “Lady Du’Valle, you’re very pretty. I’m sure you’d prefer to remain that way, so I suggest that you start talking before I start cutting.”
“And I would really recommend that you rapidly reconsider the ramifications of your rudeness towards the Lady!” A black clad man in a silver mask and a long cape was suddenly standing between them; a thin silver stiletto poised in each of his gloved hands. Behind him, a large red hound with strange pale eyes had padded into view from beneath a table. It stood next to Naomi and growled at Ruiryk, who suddenly felt far less confident.
Naomi sighed. “Oh for pity’s sake, we already know that it wasn’t you two that did it! Whoever was responsible would have been covered in blood, and you two are - well, actually you’re covered in blood. You came to us covered in blood. I suppose that it is feasible that you may have left the refectory, murdered Olef, and then returned. Did you?”
Banor snorted. “Dinnae be thick, tha’ wee jumped up hussy!”
“He means no, no of course not.” Ruiryk lowered his knife. “Let’s all just calm down.”
“What a delightful decision. Do you then declare that you do not desire to deliver damage to the Lady?” The black clad man was still on his guard.
“Misericord, that’s enough.” Naomi placed a hand on his shoulder. “There is no fresh blood on their clothing; it is all dried in. They’re not to blame. I ought not to have been so confrontational, I apologise.”
“Might I mention, my Lady, that it was these malevolent miscreants that made but a moment ago to manhandle and mayhap to murder you?”
“What in Moorgi’s name did he just say?” Ruiryk looked at Banor in confusion.
The old varyn shrugged. “He seems to like using extra words, that one!”
Misericord stepped forward towards them then. He spoke quietly this time. “You threatened the Lady. I spare you at her will alone - for now.” With that, he stepped back and disappeared behind a pillar.
Naomi sighed and walked past them to unlock the door. The hound followed closely at her heels. “You’d do well not to antagonise my retinue any further. They’re on edge as it is.”
&n
bsp; Ruiryk nodded. “Look, we just want to leave. Just let us get our friends and go: we won’t be any more trouble to you.”
“Are you quite mad? There are restless dead roaming the area and a wyrm on the rampage! Your friend Luath is in shock and frankly another journey in his present condition would end him. As to Kaiwan and Althanor, my uncle has employed the lad as part of his retinue. Kaiwan is under the care of Master Khuff - she is keeping house for him.”
“You can’t expect them to stay here!”
“Actually, I rather think that I can. By your own curious laws, the two of them required guardians. They have been provided with them. Therefore, they are legally part of their guardians’ households now. And as to you pair, well. I suggest that you look around you. Which of us has the army?” So saying, Lady Naomi stepped briskly out into the corridor, leading Althanor by the hand. A wall of guards immediately formed after them.
Banor spat. “So much for her hospitality!”
∞∞∞
Althanor tugged at Naomi's arm. “Are Ruiryk and Uncle Banor in trouble?”
“I think that it’s probably best for them to be under guard for now, Althanor. Just until I can be certain that they won’t try to do anything foolish. I promise they won’t be harmed.”
“Lord Von Rosenhof says that you should say all the words in a sentence. He says that it’s - I mean, that it is lazy to use contractions.”
Naomi smiled. “My uncle is very particular over grammar that much is true.”
“So why aren’t - I mean, why are not - no, that isn’t right either. I mean, is not right!” Althanor frowned. “Lady Naomi, why do you use contractions all the time?”
“Because I like to. And because it gives my uncle something to lecture me about and that makes him feel useful. Anyhow, I hate it when language is stilted! There’s a time and a place for such formality, Althanor.”
“Oh. So I can talk how I like to, then?”
