6
Adalginza was in the present now, kneeling beside three smears of dried blood.
Her fingers gently stroked the stained floor, as though touching the essence of those she once loved could somehow bring them back to life.
They were gone. Forever. And she never had the chance to say goodbye.
"My mother and Medosa both died here."
Adalginza said this after realizing that Kalos was standing quietly above her. He had not yet heard the conclusion of her story that omitted any reference to her true identity. Or to Bruna.
"Who killed them?" he asked gently.
"Benfaaro," she whispered.
Kalos reached down, took her arm, and helped her back to her feet.
"Did you see it happen?"
"No. I was — unconscious. Benfaaro attacked and wounded me first. He thought I was already dead."
Wordlessly, Adalginza reached down to untie the knot of her lower shirt before pulling it partially open. The jagged scar that was revealed traced a path from her upper right rib cage across her lower abdomen.
"Kalmasen!" Kalos spat out a profane curse, which equated her attacker with the dung-eating vermin that usually resided in sewage pits.
Adalginza retied her shirt, and lowered her eyes so that Kalos could not see her anguish.
Kalos briefly gripped the hilt of his sword, as though imagining he faced Benfaaro at that very moment.
"Were you three the only citizens of the Crescent Houses still living in the Place of the Circles at that time?"
"Yes." Adalginza took a deep, ragged breath. "The others had moved away long before that, out of fear of the savages. There was never a regiment of Crescent knights stationed here for protection. This frontier post was far too isolated."
Seeing that the evening was growing darker, Adalginza moved toward the palette of wood stacked near the fireplace.
She knelt and slowly began to place the sticks, one-by-one, into the blackened pit. Kalos stooped beside her, to help stack the wood for burning.
"Your mother's madness would explain why the two of you stayed on, despite the growing danger. But why did Medosa stay?"
"Medosa had lived among the savages for so long he thought they would never harm him. He delivered many of the babies in the Tribe of the Circles. He taught the children of at least two generations. He was like a father to many of them. Including me. And Benfaaro."
Adalginza gave Kalos a profoundly sad look. "We all once lived together in peace. Why is it we cannot do so now?"
"Because peace occurs only with the surrender of one of two opposing forces."
Kalos wore the fierce expression of a warrior as he took out his firestone from a leather pouch worn around his waist.
He struck the stone against the metal grate protecting the pit to spark a small flame amid a pile of wood shavings.
Then he gave Adalginza a meaningful look.
"We of the Crescent Moon Houses have the greater numbers by far. Never fear. We will vanquish the savages. Eventually. It simply takes resolve."
Adalginza reached out and gently placed a hand on the captain's shoulder. "But this is the homeland of the savages. Are we not the invaders?"
"There is room enough for all." Kalos violently stabbed an additional stick of wood into the flame, causing it to explode with sparks. "Besides. How can you speak on behalf of the savages, when you see your blood and the blood of your mother and Medosa still spilled on this floor?"
The impact of the loss she had endured silenced Adalginza completely. She could find no words in answer.
They both stood up together, and watched as the flame easily began to devour the wood that had become so thoroughly dried in the two seasons spent indoors.
Adalginza crossed her arms and hugged herself, feeling chilled even though it was not uncomfortably cool inside.
Her teeth began to chatter slightly, as the memories again began to crush her.
Kalos slipped his arm around her, and pulled her close.
"Do you not hate the man responsible for this?"
"No!" Adalginza's first response was instinctive. And unwise. She immediately corrected herself. "Yes. I hate what he did here."
Kalos nodded in grim satisfaction. "We will find Benfaaro. We will kill him. And by killing him, we will cut off the head of the snake."
"I have heard this saying before," Adalginza said dully. "It originates with the savages."
And Benfaaro has said the same about you.
"You will help me find him. Then we will both have our revenge."
"If you face him directly in battle, Captain Kalos, he will kill you easily."
"So you think he is the better man?" Kalos dropped his arm from around her shoulders, and regarded her strangely.
"Not the better man. No. But he is far more ruthless than you."
"So in order to prevail, I need only imitate Benfaaro's ways. Is that what you are saying?"
"Of course not. I have no desire to watch you lose your soul."
While Kalos frowned in answer, Adalginza blinked into the flames now snapping in the fireplace. Then she uneasily peered through the open doorway at the growing darkness.
She sent out a mind probe, relaxing when she sensed that that the creatures of the night were stirring without undue alarm. This meant all was well.
In fact, the familiar smell of wood smoke increased the sense of comfort that she had missed for so long. It had been almost three full seasons since she had felt anything akin to normal.
With the persistent nudging against her leg, she then stooped down to pet the fox, Herol. She momentarily buried her face in his fur.
"It is good to feel something alive and warm in this dwelling again," she said quietly.
"You will feel even better when you eat," Kalos answered. "Would you like some rations now?"
She nodded. Then she stood, holding the fox in her arms. She followed Kalos to a crudely hewn wooden table, where she and the captain seated themselves upon a bench.
She released Herol onto the floor as Kalos held out a leather pouch full of provisions. Adalginza took it wordlessly, retrieving what items she wanted from among the dried fruit and meats before handing the pouch back to Kalos.
He made his selection, and they both began to eat silently, washing down the food with swallows of water from a hollow gourd flask they both shared.
Adalginza then began to feed a few scraps from her meal to Herol, who gulped down each bite to follow up with an expectant, pleading look for more.
"Trail rations should not be squandered," Kalos said sternly.
"It is no waste to share a meal with an old friend."
"The animal has fended well for himself for the time you have been absent. He will not starve. We, on the other hand, just might starve if we find ourselves delayed on the trail for too long."
"I am resourceful. If we need fresh meat along the trail, I will find it for us."
Kalos suddenly reached out and grabbed her arm before she could give Herol another bite.
The captain forced the morsel from her hand and placed it back in the pouch. At the threatening move, Herol slunk away to the back of the room.
From the corner of her eye, Adalginza saw the fox assume a defensive, crouching position by the fire.
"You have no right to deny him!" Adalginza shouted. "Or to show such disrespect for me in my own home!"
"He is an animal," Kalos answered calmly. "I myself spent many hours preparing and drying the meat that makes up our rations for this journey. So why should I allow you to waste my efforts upon your pet, who very obviously does not need the food?"
"Because Herol is my friend, and should be treated as such."
"My instinct, dear lady, is only for our survival. Unlike your furred friend there, I do not have a keen nose, sharp teeth, or claws to subdue my prey."
"Then you clearly must doubt me when I say I can provide all the fresh meat we need on our journey."
"Do I doubt you,
a pampered lady of the Fifth House? Yes. Not even my most experienced trackers and hunters can make me such a promise."
"Then you are calling me a liar."
"Not really. Perhaps I think you are simply — confused."
Something in the captain's expression roused even more of Adalginza's anger.
"You imply again that I am touched with my mother's madness?"
Kalos placed his hands before him on the table. Then he held her eyes in a steady gaze.
"There are stories about you. I heard some of them, back in Sola Re."
She did not look away from his gaze.
"You have heard of how Lady Adalginza wanders alone at night, under the ten crescent moons. Lost in a trance. Oblivious to the dangers of both snakes and savages."
"Yes. Except that it is also said she rides her own sturmons as a man would. Better than any man, in fact."
"The stories are true," Adalginza replied wearily. "Think of me what you will. I no longer care."
Adalginza stood and moved back toward the fire. She held out her hands, warming them, even though the night air was not particularly cool.
When Kalos followed her, Herol slunk away through the front door and into the darkness to avoid the captain.
Kalos reached for a dusty blanket that had been draped over a nearby railing and shook it out.
Adalginza remembered she had placed it there long ago with the purpose of drying it from the soaking it had received from an unexpected desert rainstorm.
Kalos threw the blanket in front of the fire, then sat down cross-legged. He held a hand toward Adalginza, inviting her to join him.
When she hesitated, Kalos looked up at her with a sadness that almost equaled her own.
"I, too, once wandered alone at night," he said. "Right after my family members were murdered in Tremasto."
Adalginza regarded him cautiously. "Did you?"
"Yes. There is no sleep when what you see with the closing of your eyes is horror."
"That is true."
"I began to be free of the nightmares only when I revisited Tremasto, upon the recommendation of a gnostic who was a family friend. I brought Lady Redolo and Zartos with me."
His voice caught momentarily. Then he continued.
"We found the remains of our family, left there because of the superstitions of the savages. We buried them. And we said goodbye. You must understand this is one of the reasons I took the risk of bringing you here. So that you, too, could say goodbye."
Adalginza sank down beside the captain, allowing him to take her hand to assist her to the floor. She smoothed her leggings to cover her knees, and stared into the flames.
Kalos stretched out his legs, and leaned his head back on one elbow.
"It is a fine place, this home of yours." he said finally.
"I wish never to go back to Sola Re," Adalginza said in a low voice.
"The savages would murder you here."
"They could not touch me in a place where murder has already taken place."
"Even if you were spared, you would be very lonely."
"The savages are not all the same. I had friends among them. Good friends."
"So did I. It made no difference. Not one of them lifted a hand to help us at Tremasto. In fact, some of them I called my friends committed the worst of the atrocities. This is something I will never understand. Or forgive."
Adalginza gazed into the flickering flames, wondering just how much she should reveal to the enemy. She chose her words carefully.
"Actions are not always a matter of will among the savages. They must follow the orders of their leaders who are Of The Blood. They have no choice."
"I still do not understand what is so special about being Of The Blood."
Adalginza again hesitated to speak the truth. But it seemed important for the captain's sake to explain. Perhaps in this way he might even find it in his heart to forgive.
"There are a few in the Tribe of the Circles who are directly descended from certain revered ones among the Ancients. These holy ones had great power, but they existed so many generations ago that the seasons can no longer be counted. Just believe me when I say that, when one Of The Blood gives an order, it must be obeyed."
"Why?" Kalos sounded skeptical. "If their followers dare to think for themselves, will the ground then open up and swallow them?"
Adalginza struggled with her own discomfort at being in the presence of an unbeliever. And yet, Medosa had taught her as a child that it was important to question beliefs that did not seem verifiable.
She herself was conflicted about the ways of the savages.
"I tell you only what is believed," she said. "And it is believed that the disobedient are cursed, along with their ancestors, their children, their children's children and all who follow. Even in death, their souls will wander without peace. All the tribes will shun them here and in the afterlife. Their bloodline will be forever damned."
"That's quite a curse." Again, Kalos sounded skeptical.
"There is no greater fear among the savages than to be damned by one Of the Blood. It is why peace has prevailed for so long among the tribes. Those Of The Blood command absolute loyalty from their people."
The hard look upon the captain's face did not soften, but he did seem lost in thought.
"This means only that the savages are slaves to superstition and ignorance. They are still accountable for their actions. But what you just told me means there is a way to defeat them, utterly and completely."
Adalginza felt a chill, despite the warmth of the flames. "I do not understand what you mean."
"Benfaaro is Of The Blood, and he commands absolutely?"
"Yes."
"Then when Benfaaro is dead, the tribes will fall into chaos without his leadership. They might even begin to war among themselves."
"No," Adalginza said hastily, desperately trying to undo any damage she might have caused with her loose tongue. "That is not so. There are others Of The Blood who can take his place."
"How many others?"
Calasta. And Adalginza. That was all.
A widespread epidemic of plague afflicting the previous generation had devastated the direct bloodline. Even worse, that plague had been deliberately introduced by an early explorer of the Crescent Houses, Captain Heinste the Cruel.
But Captain Kalos must not be told there were only three Of The Blood left alive.
"Many others. Beyond counting."
"This makes no sense to me. There cannot be great numbers. Otherwise, in the tribal structure you just described, they would fight among themselves for power."
"There are many," Adalginza insisted. "At least, this is what I was told."
"Well. No matter how many, I will find them. And I will kill them all, these people Of The Blood. It is the only way to cut off the head of the snake..."
Suddenly, Kalos interrupted himself.
"By the saints! I cannot believe what my eyes are showing me! Is this some curse of the savages?"
Adalginza saw Kalos stiffen. Then his eyes widened with horror as he looked beyond her and into the darkness of the room.
He sat up suddenly and reached for the dagger that he kept in the sheath under his shoulder.
Quickly, with her heart pounding in terror, she twisted her body around to see what he was seeing. Two glowing, golden orbs moved eerily in the darkness, seemingly unattached to anybody, appearing as an apparition.
She had seen it many times before in this household. Desperately, she grabbed for Kalos' arm.
"Stop! Stop! It is only the little fox. It is only little Herol. His eyes have caught the light of the fire, and they are glowing with the reflection!"
But she was too late.
She saw the dagger fly, glistening in the firelight, straight and true.
She heard the yelp, and then felt the death of her beloved pet, thrashing in her mind.
The pain was so keen that she actually grabbed for her own heart, clutching it. She ga
sped for breath as she shuddered visibly with the final death throes.
Then she staggered to her feet, ran into the darkness, and half fell beside the limp body of the fox.
There was blood pouring onto the floor. Of course. What else would there be? She would always see blood, everywhere in this place.
She grasped his tiny body, and held it to her, oblivious to the red stains that now covered her bodice and leggings.
"He was playing. He was chasing the embers," Adalginza sobbed. "Herol always loved the fire. It made him dance with joy."
She felt the hand of Kalos on her shoulder, felt it digging in with abject apology.
"I am so sorry, Lady Adalginza. How could I have known?"
"By taking the time to learn the truth! Why must men always kill first? Why can they see no other way?"
"Let me take him..." Kalos began.
"No! I will bury Herol. I know where to take him."
"I will help."
"You will stay here, out of my sight."
She pushed by Kalos, knowing that all her rage that had been building for her entire life was being vented in his direction now. It was unfair, but she did not care. He made a convenient outlet for emotions now gushing out of control.
"Will you ever forgive me, lady?"
"Never!" She turned back to him for one furious moment. "Will anything I love ever be allowed to live?"
She burst out into the darkness, in the opposite direction of the barracks where the knights had bedded down.
She cradled Herol to her bosom and, her path lit by eight of the moons, picked her way up the difficult path to the burial ground. She could not help but dwell on the night when she had somehow found the strength to drag two bloody bodies up this same trail.
As she was deluged with those memories and the feeling of loss, her tortuous thoughts warred between the irrational and coldly logical.
Could it be that an ancestor of her savage bloodline, many generations ago, angered one Of The Blood? Did she now have a curse upon her, too?
Impossible, answered her rational self. She was Of The Blood. No one Of The Blood could be cursed, or they would not be given such an exalted role among all the tribes.
Yet, she was not fully Of The Blood. She had indigo eyes. Pretty, hated indigo eyes. She was a lady of great status in the Crescent Houses. And a woman with great power in the Tribe of the Circles, if only she would claim it.
Ten Crescent Moons (Moonquest) Page 11
