MySoultoKeep

by Dianna Hunter

  Laughing at the odd sound, Kayla exclaimed, “Ohh-hh, she’s so beautiful, Garth,” and proceeded to climb to the top rail of the corral.

  “Come, come to me, pretty thing,” she called as she stretched one hand confidently toward the strange-looking horse.

  Tossing her pretty mane, the mare loped toward her, her long, silky hair rippling with the motion. Coming to a smooth stop within easy reach of the extended hand, she turned green eyes the size of small saucers and stared into Kayla’s grinning face.

  “What are they called?” she asked.

  “These are the Sasqua. They’re known for their gentle natures and are the favored mount of the upper class in this region.” Smiling with satisfaction, Garth watched the young witch lure the horse to her and stroke its delicate head before turning his attention back to the small herd to locate his own mount.

  Garth was walking to the gate with a beautiful young stallion with a sleek coat of a deep mahogany color when the jangle of metal and leather announced the arrival of Lantrie and Troll loaded down with saddles and gear.

  “Don’t mean to be rushing ya’, but if y’r planning to make the city b’fore nightfall, ya’d best get movin’,” declared the farmer as he heaved the heavy saddle over the fence rail beside the one Troll had already deposited.

  Without asking, Lantrie caught the pretty, big-eyed mare and began saddling her.

  “Her name be Shining Mist or Misty for short,” he informed Kayla curtly.

  Kayla threw him an appraising look but did not deign to speak as she took the proffered reins from him and climbed into the saddle.

  Still putout with Garth for springing this on her, Kayla cantered the mare across the yard to the farmhouse and dismounted beside the long verandah. Tying Misty to the hitching post, she ran up the steps to the back door. Mrs. Lantrie was waiting for her in the open doorway with baby Starr held to one shoulder and a handful of young children bouncing around her or clinging to her skirts.

  “Hi, is the babe ready to go?” she asked, smiling at the bigger woman.

  “Just ‘bout. Why don’t ya’ come on in and set a spell while we finish,” she invited pleasantly.

  “Well, I guess, just for a minute,” Kayla mumbled as she followed the woman into the big kitchen. Trying to control her impatience and feelings of irritation, she took a seat at the long table filling the center of the room while Mrs. Lantrie sat at the end and returned to the task of spooning cereal into the hungry baby’s mouth.

  Settling back into the comfortable chair, Kayla took this chance to appreciate the warm hominess of the big kitchen and to really see the children that had followed them, and what she saw left her speechless, for clustered around the table, staring in wide-eyed curiosity at her were children plainly born of the witch-kind.

  One pretty, dark-haired little girl of about three years, smiled at her, displaying fangs that could only belong to a vampire, and a small boy with pale blue skin and long, pointed ears peeking though his mop of snow-white hair rolled on the floor with another child that displayed all the short, squatty features of a dwarf.

  The little girl so earnestly helping Mrs. Lantrie with the baby turned her head, tossing her mane of blonde ringlets to smile at Kayla and looked at her with one china-blue eye set in the center of her face.

  “Mrs. Lantrie…” Kayla began.

  “Oh please, call me Mama Rose like everybody else does,” she interjected.

  “Mama Rose, right, uhh, I don’t mean to be rude, but the children, where did they all come from?”

  “Oh, that’s alright, dear, I don’t mind tellin’ ya’, seein’ as you’re with M’lord an’ all,” she said pleasantly. “You see, he brings them to us sometimes, you know, when he finds the poor little things abandoned and such,” Mama Rose told her. “We were never blessed with young’uns of our own, so these sorta make up for it.” She wrapped an arm around the little Cyclops girl and hugged her lovingly.

  The men chose that moment to come banging through the kitchen door behind them.

  Kayla twisted in her seat to face Garth.

  “I see you’ve met the children,” he said as he bent down to gather the whole gang of bobbing children into his arms.

  “Yes, they’re really something,” Kayla said as she rose and held her arms out for Starr.

  “Kayla,” Garth began and cut his eyes away, “I-I’ve already discussed it with Lantrie, and well, he said they can handle caring for the babe here at the farm. Just until we can make arrangements in the city for a nanny,” he added when he saw the look of disappointment clouding her face. “Rosie will take better care of her than anyone else I know of, and she’ll be safe here,” he added as simply as he could.

  Kayla looked around the room at the healthy, happy youngsters and thought about the village where they had found Starr and reluctantly, understood what he’d meant by safe.

  Nodding her head in reluctant agreement, Kayla hugged the cooing babe tight and kissed her soft head before returning her to Mama Rose. Turning abruptly, she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Garth to finalize the arrangements with the Lantries.

  Kayla was leaning against a post, wiping her eyes, when she was startled by a soft cough.

  “Lady, I’m sorry to disturb you, but I wanted a word with you before you left,” said Troll.

  “Aren’t you coming with us?” she asked in surprise. She wiped her eyes with her shirtsleeve and tried to regain control of her torn emotions.

  “I’ve decided to stay here and help on the farm for a while. Don’t worry, Lady, the Lantries are good people, and I’ll keep an eye on the little one for you and on the Ral’i, too,” he added reassuringly.

  “I’m going to miss having you with us, but I’ll be seeing you real soon when I come back for Hawk and the babe,” she said as much for her own piece of mind as for his.

  Troll tilted his head and studied her speculatively before saying, “Lady, I feel I must warn you. Please remember that, well, many times things and people are not what they may appear to be.” Taking her hand in his, he met the sad eyes of the confused-looking young woman. “You’re young yet, but still you have a strong inner sense. Listen to it. I want you to know that if there is ever any way that I can be of service to you, well, you need only ask and I’ll be there.”

  “Th-thank you, Troll, you don’t know how much that means to me.” Kayla threw her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.

  The road to the city had grown more and more congested, steadily filling with peasant families and their carts drawn by oxen, mule, and by hand and loaded with every manner of farm produce and wares, all hurrying to make it to the relative safety of the city walls before nightfall.

  Kayla had been openly staring at the packs of noisy children and dogs that ran and played beside the carts and finally asked, “Why are there so many of these people traveling to the city so late in the day?”

  Garth carefully reined the shaggy, red stallion he called Firefly around a pack of dirty urchins, before telling her. “Tomorrow is the one day of the month that the vendors are allowed to sell their produce in the city without paying a tax on whatever is sold so they all try to come in the night before to get the best spots to setup in the marketplace.”

  Kayla nodded and rode on in silence as she tried to sort through the things she’d learned about this world since her arrival. So many of them just weren’t adding up to match the rosy picture Garth had painted of his Emperor’s regime. The farms and villages they’d recently passed through had displayed none of the contentment and prosperity he’d led her to expect. Now, as they continued to ride past the small groups of peasants, she realized that she was seeing more and more children with serious birth defects, as if there had been some great ecological disaster that had left residue behind to affect new generations.

  Kayla noticed too, that while the children all seemed friendly enough, often smiling and waving at them, the adults did not, and though they all bowed deeply when they passed, none smiled
and they never ever made eye contact with their Lord High Warlock.

  As they drew closer to the city, the thick walls of trees gave way to mounds of underbrush and vine-covered ruins. Kayla silently stared at the ribs of broken timbers thrusting up from the waves of vines like the fingers of a drowning man. She did not like the ambience of death and hopelessness emanating from these places at all.

  It was nearly sunset when they passed between the last of these grim sentinels and into a region of barren soil where nothing living dared take root. Only the naked bones of a deserted village remained, clinging to the grey stonewalls surrounding the city like a rotting shroud to a corpse. Beyond a moat of green slime, the great wooden gates, like the jaws of some great beast, were thrown wide to swallow the steady stream of people and wagons.

  Kayla knew that she should feel relieved to have finally reached their destination, but she did not. The vibrations of death and doom that radiated from this place filled her with an almost-insurmountable fear, and it took every ounce of her willpower to keep from turning her horse around and racing from this place as fast as her shaggy mount could take her.

  When she glanced nervously at the small clusters of peasants making their way around the Sasqua, Kayla noticed that she was not the only one who seemed to sense the inherent evil emanating from those cold grey walls for even the boisterous peasant children had grown silent as they neared the city gates.

  As they reached the moat, Kayla braced herself and kneed Misty, encouraging her to mount the short bridge spanning the murky channel of sludge. Reluctantly, Misty strode out onto the bridge, but she shied and danced nervously at the strange sound of the hollow thud her iron-shod hooves made against the heavy wooden planks and the symphony of jangling, squeaking saddles echoing dully from the stonewalls.

  “Easy, girl, it won’t hurt you,” Kayla crooned softly. It took patience and a gentle hand on the reins, but she finally managed to guide Misty across the moat bridge without incident. Drawing her mount to ride beside Garth, she stared at the towering gates and the two hulking guards slumped against them.

  Garbed in grey uniforms long in need of washing, the guards were lazily watching the steady stream of peasants. Their drooping eyes surveyed the travelers, expecting nothing more than the norm until they caught the flash of the black-clad warrior and the swishing hair of the elegant Sasqua.

  Snapping to attention in recognition of the authority of the warlock, the guards exchanged nervous glances, but Garth merely threw them a withering glare and rode on past.

  Curious about the reaction of the guards to Garth and distracted by all the people moving through the gates, Kayla wasn’t paying much attention to the shouting and whip-cracking being employed by the driver of a nearby wagon. Overloaded with tin cooking ware, he was trying to get his team of tired, slow-witted oxen to pull hard enough to jerk the wooden cartwheels over the rough abutment of road and bridge, but Misty was taking notice.

  Nervous and afraid of the odd creatures snorting and coughing and the sharp banging of the metal utensils hanging from the cart, the sharp crack of the whip was the last straw for the mare.

  Rearing, she spun about and tried to bolt.

  Startled by Misty’s sudden explosion, Kayla’s foot slipped from the stirrup, and she slid sideways in her saddle.

  “Whoa, easy, girl,” she whispered gently in spite of her own thoughts of panic. Patting the mare’s sweaty neck with one hand, she righted herself in the saddle and urged her past the guards into the wide boulevard on the other side. With every step they took past those gates Kayla was wishing that she was brave enough not to succumb to her own unreasoning fear and let the mare take them away from this place. Only her own fierce determination not to reveal her fear kept her moving forward.

  Determinedly getting a grip on her fear, Kayla decided to make the most of her first visit to a true medieval city.

  From her vantage point on top of the tall Sasqua, Kayla could see a maze of smaller streets and alleys branching off of this main boulevard. To her inexperienced eyes, the city did indeed look like a huge medieval carnival, and her earlier fears were replaced with excitement as she bounced around in her saddle, trying to take in all of the strange sights at once.

  It didn’t take long for the excited and expectant chatter of the throngs of people surrounding them to rub off on her, driving away her dreary mood. Everywhere she turned, there were people dressed in garish outfits pushing and shouting in their attempts to move along the main avenue that was already lined with pavilions, tents, and carts from which vendors were hawking wares of all kinds.

  She slowed before one stall where she could see bolts of brightly colored silk, their ends fluttering in the wind. The wind swirled round Misty’s legs, ruffling through the long manes of both rider and mount and carrying with it the spicy aroma of roasting meat from the smoking grills of a food vendor’s cart.

  Distracted by the hungry rumble of a stomach that hadn’t been fed since morning, Kayla didn’t notice the motley group of beggars forming around her until she heard the raised voice of one crying out, “M’lady! Please, gold for food to feed our starving babes!” in coarse entreaty.

  Surprised by this sudden assault, Kayla turned in her seat, seeking a face to go with the voice.

  Rough hands clawed at her legs, grabbing at the hair and tack of a skittish, sidestepping Misty as she tried to avoid the rabble closing in on them.

  “Oofff!” A man hit the ground, hard, propelled there by a solid kick from Garth’s booted foot.

  Kayla jerked on Misty’s reins, causing her to rear and hiccup in protest and miss the man’s head by mere inches as he rolled into the gutter to avoid being trampled under the mare’s hooves.

  “You dare lay hands on the Lord High Warlock’s party? You place little value on your miserable lives!” Garth’s voice vibrated with barely controlled outrage and the snick of a blade against leather echoed ominously in the sudden silence. “Now, get back before I decide to put you all out of your misery!” Before his sword had cleared the scabbard, the cringing band of beggars had disappeared into the crowd.

  Spinning Firefly around to face Kayla, he rumbled, “Are you all right?”

  “I-I think so. Where did they all come from so suddenly?” She searched the blank faces of the people on the street for some hint of a motive, but everyone had returned to their activities with only an occasional sly, backward glance at the warlock’s party to indicate any interest.

  “It would seem that the army needs to clean out this part of town again and rid it of some of these gutter rats!” Garth fumed loud enough for those around them to hear and take heed.

  Reaching for Misty’s bridle, he jerked the wide-eyed, frightened creature’s head around and took them down a side street and away from the crowd.

  The street Garth had chosen was narrow and lined on both sides with rows of tall, thin buildings built so close together that their sloping, clay-tiled roofs often touched. A woman perched on the sagging wooden steps of one house shouted at a group of young children playing in the street, sending them nimbly dodging out of the horses’ paths, trying to drag a large, flop-eared puppy with them.

  Kayla laughed when the puppy rebelled at the rough handling and rolled over on his back, refusing to move until the larger child hefted the pup over his shoulder and hobbled toward home on his three scrawny legs.

  Looking back at the rest of the children gathered on the side of the alley staring wide-eyed at them, she saw that they all bore some kind of physical deformity.

  They did not encounter any more foot traffic until the side street they were traveling intersected with the main thoroughfare and dumped them back in the midst of the throngs of people.

  They were working their way through and between the scattered groups of peasants and making fair progress when they were halted by a procession of soldiers entering the area from a completely different direction than the one Garth had brought her.

  The grimy grey of the City Gu
ard uniforms was easily recognized even at a distance, but as they drew closer, Kayla saw that this group was of a different metal than the slovenly excuse for soldiers that had been left to guard the gates. For one thing, these men were better armed, wearing black leather helmets and armor and the attitude of soldiers returning victorious from recent battle.

  Curious, Kayla shouted to be heard over the noise of the suddenly larger crowd, “How did they get inside?”

  “There’s another gate on this side of the city that’s reserved for military use,” Garth shouted back. “They must be returning from a mission into the countryside.”

  As the soldiers approached, the crowd became more excited, shouting and jostling each other as they pressed in on the procession.

  Determined to see what all the excitement was about, Kayla urged Misty forward, nudging and sometimes pushing against a person or two with a booted foot until they made way for the tall, shaggy horse and her rider.

  One large, boorish looking man took exception to being shoved and turned in anger only to jump back into the crowd fearfully, ordering others in a loud, hoarse voice to “Make way! Make way for the Lord High Warlock and his Lady!”

  When she realized that she was no longer encountering resistance, Kayla turned her head and saw that Garth was following in her wake. He grinned and winked one eye at her as her glance fell on his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

  She shook her head in resignation and turned her attention to the soldiers now tramping into full view before her.

  Most of the soldiers were on foot with only a few officers riding in scattered positions throughout the procession. In spite of their ragged condition, for some bore minor wounds and most sported torn and dirty uniforms, they seemed pleased with themselves and proud of whatever spoil the battle had brought them as they jealously guarded a large, covered cage mounted on a flatbed wagon that was being hauled by a team of shaggy red oxen.

  Unable to see the nature of the prize, the crowd got rowdier, shouting at the soldiers in frustration.