They were past the shrines and nearly to the wooded area that bordered the river. Sh’hale was taking her back to the royal encampment where a day ago her father had killed their king. She hoped he was no longer there. Yet he must be somewhere for the scythe of death had retreated. She wondered who he had sacrificed to correct The Balance. Sh’hale had been right. It would not be The Dark himself, despite that he was the greatest evil in their land. More likely he had captured some poor innocent and taken their life where his own should be forfeit. Still, at the back of her mind nagged the idea Khatrene had put there, that the scythe of death was a simple movement of the moons and that The Dark had no power over it.
Kert led her through sparse trees and into the river which was icy cold but thankfully only waist deep. She struggled behind him as they crossed and came out the other side, starting straight into the leafy glade that bordered the Elder Stand, the oldest forest on Ennae. Wide-girthed giantwoods towered above them but Lae took no pleasure in their stature. Today they made her feel small and afraid. The nearer they came to where she had last seen her father, the faster her anxious heart beat.
‘Be most silent now,’ Sh’hale warned and Lae raised her head. They were nearing the royal encampment. Would they enter the royal tent where the not-brown blood of the royal family, so different from their own, had stained the carpets? ‘Where would she be?’ Sh’hale muttered to himself as he led Lae into the centre of the camp, which appeared just as Lae had left it the day before; Sh’hale Guardsmen and members of the royal guard slaughtered across the compound. They had been helpless in the grip of a sleeping spell The Catalyst had sent forth while still within Khatrene’s womb, a spell that had saved them from The Dark who was intent on cutting his child from Khatrene’s belly and leaving her to die beside her brother. The Plainswoman Noorinya had come upon the camp searching for the children of her tribe, and seeing her enemies vulnerable before her she had slain them where they’d dropped before helping Lae and Khatrene carry the lifeless Mihale to the Royal Shrine. They had at least succeeded in that mission, delivered Khatrene’s child and seen all the royals safely off their world.
Though her situation was grim, Lae could take pride in her accomplishments. Her resourcefulness in the past could give her courage in the present, courage she needed in the eerie silence, heightened by the thick mist which enveloped the clearing, deadened their footfalls.
‘You have a mistress here?’ Lae asked tartly, remembering how Sh’hale had petitioned her father for her hand, the sweet way he’d spoken to her. Now she saw his true nature and would find no surprise to discover he had many hidden lovers.
‘Ghett of Be’uccdha, you fool. The king’s mistress who carries his child.’ He tied Lae to a post in the centre of the camp and went looking. Lae remembered then that Kert had told her he would find Ghett and take her to the royal Volcastle, to protect and Champion the king’s son who grew within her. Though she remembered Ghett only slightly as The Light’s maid, Lae would have helped in this duty, to care for the son of their dead king and protect him from the ambitions of her father. Yet little could she do as a prisoner.
She must find a way to convince Sh’hale that she could be trusted. That she was more valuable to him free. Yet as she watched him stalk from tent to tent, sword drawn, she realised he trusted no one. Why then would he trust her? Daughter of his enemy. The enemy Lae hoped they would not encounter.
He moved out of her line of sight into the forest beyond the encampment and she tried to be patient. It might take him an hour to search the whole area. She should keep her eyes open as well, in case —
‘Pretty, pretty …’ At the same time as the words were spoken behind her, Lae felt one hand come over her mouth and the other settle possessively over the bodice of her grimy gown, squeezing a small breast.
She reacted instinctively, biting the hand over her mouth and screaming as loudly as she could, ‘Sh’hale!’ before a rag was stuffed into her mouth and her assailant stepped in front of her to tie a gag over it, a filthy young Raider not much older than herself but clearly intent on proving his manhood. Rarely seen in the daylight, Raiders usually kept to their caves on the other side of the river near the shrines precinct, tolerating Plainsmen and even the hated Northmen. It was those loyal to the throne they attacked — the society which had cast them out as impure generations before. Their subsequent inbreeding had multiplied their deformities. Lae could only guess that the strong scent of blood from the compound had attracted him.
She struggled against the ropes on her wrists and cursed Kert for leaving her alone and unprotected. She kicked and connected with a shin, then was slapped for her trouble, a cracking blow that rattled her brains and rocked her head back against the pole.
The next moment her dress was torn down to her waist and Lae began to feel real fear. Cold air touched her budding breasts and she wanted to close her eyes, to block out what was about to happen. But to do so would eliminate any possibility of saving herself. She had to watch, to stay alert for an opportunity to escape.
Sh’hale had not come, had not heard her cry. She was alone with only her wits to save her. The young Raider fiddled with his trousers and Lae kicked out again. A knife materialised in his hand and he pressed it to her breast. Despite her father’s cosseting, Lae had heard about the ways of Raiders and suspected that he would take her whether she was dead or alive. Finally his pants were down but Lae kept her eyes on his face.
‘Virgin?’ he demanded, gazing curiously at her right-face tattoo.
Lae stared at him, unsure whether to nod or shake her head. Would he leave her if she told him she was unsullied?
‘Virgin?’ he asked again in his coarse voice. When she didn’t reply immediately he slapped her mouth and she tasted blood.
She nodded then and he smiled, a horrible toothless smile in his bald misshapen head. Lae though she might faint. She did close her eyes then, knowing there was no rescue, no hope. This Raider would use her body and kill her. If there were worse ways to die, Lae didn’t know of them.
A memory of Pagan surfaced. Not his dimpled smile, or his eyes dark with surprise in the moment after he’d kissed her and she’d kissed him back. This memory was of the look of desperation in his eyes in the seconds before he disappeared into the Sacred Pool with the child of The Light in his arms. He’d known he could not save her from the attacking Raiders then. Just as he could not save her now.
‘Virgin,’ the Raider said, not a question this time.
Lae gritted her teeth as the last of her dress was torn away. She felt his hand on her leg and had to turn her head away, pressing her lips together, hoping only that she could survive. Pagan would want that. Lae wanted that, to survive and see the man she loved again.
Yet just as she was girding herself for this invasion of her body, the Raider grunted and pressed against her. Lae couldn’t help the small sound of disgust that boiled in her throat. Then there was cold air on her skin. A thumping noise.
Tentatively, she opened her eyes. The Raider lay crumpled at her feet with a knife protruding from his back. Sh’hale?
Lae raised her head. Ghett of Be’uccdha stood before her, arm resting forward as though she had thrown the knife. At her side stood Kert Sh’hale with arms crossed.
A former maid of The Light, Ghett was The Dark’s agent in the Volcastle, and she had secretly administered a potent Be’uccdha aphrodisiac to the royal twins soon after Khatrene’s jubilant homecoming. This had ensured that Khatrene would desire The Dark and Mihale would fall in love with his own sister, thereby pushing Khatrene more firmly into The Dark’s arms.
Once Ghett’s task had been completed, however, and Khatrene was married and living in Castle Be’uccdha, Ghett remained at the Volcastle and used Mihale’s incestuous longing for his sister to her own advantage. She had disguised herself as Khatrene and stole into his bed, seducing him with forbidden love so that she might bear his child and elevate her station beyond that which was possible for her at
Be’uccdha.
Lae hated Ghett as a treacherous whore, but within her body was Mihale’s child, the only descendant of the Ancients remaining on Ennae.
‘She is worth more with her virginity intact,’ Ghett said stepping forward to retrieve her knife and wipe its bloodied blade on Lae’s torn skirts. ‘Thank me for your life,’ she demanded and tore the gag from Lae’s mouth.
Lae ignored her. ‘Release me,’ Lae said to Kert, and though her voice trembled, Lae was in control of herself. ‘I am a lady of Ennae and you a lord. Under the king’s own laws it is your duty is to protect me and yet you stand by and let a whore —’
‘This whore is the mother of our future king,’ Kert said, unmoving. ‘And you are but an enemy prisoner.’
‘She is of Be’uccdha also,’ Lae argued, ‘and worked with my father to ensure the demise of the royal family while I …’ Lae trailed off. What could she say in her own defence? She had done nothing to stop her father until it was too late. Until their king lay murdered at her feet.
Kert raised an eyebrow and into the silence that followed, Ghett laughed. ‘You, little lady,’ she said, ‘pretended not to see the evil in The Dark. I, at least, had the honesty to acknowledge it.’
‘And profit by it,’ Lae shot back.
‘My lover is dead,’ Ghett replied flatly and Lae was startled to hear an edge of sadness in the words. ‘Your father took him from me, and will just as surely cut his child from my belly if he finds me.’ She turned to Kert. ‘We must away. I saw The Dark leave many hours ago, headed for the Shrines. He may come back.’
‘Mooraz?’ Lae asked. ‘Was he not with my father?’
Ghett shook her head. ‘Some hours later he left the camp alone. I know not where he went.’
‘He is dead by my hand,’ Kert said shortly, ‘and so would The Dark be had we met him.’
Lae pressed her eyelids tightly shut, knowing for certain now that Mooraz had not planned to return her to her father, but instead had meant to liberate her. How she wished she had trusted him. Instead she had run from him and was now a captive, and he likely dead.
‘Let us hope we do not meet The Dark,’ Ghett said, ‘for he has magic at his beck. A shadowy form …’
‘She is gone,’ Lae said, opening her eyes. ‘The Shadow Woman was a minion of Kraal who has left Ennae to return to her master.’
Kert took out his own dagger and walked towards Lae. ‘Do not think to save your father with tales of evil influencing him. He killed my king and he will die.’
Lae flinched but he merely cut her from the pole. Her torn dress fell around her and though she would cling to its shreds, it would not cover her.
‘Give her your cloak,’ Ghett said to Kert.
‘I am not your servant, whore,’ he replied. ‘I do but protect that which lives within you.’ He turned his gaze on Lae who covered herself as best she could. ‘Our Lady of Be’uccdha,’ he added, and mocked a bow to Lae, ‘has not the womanly curves of a whore such as yourself, yet her thin shanks are not uncomely. I would leave her uncovered.’
‘A temptation to every Raider and Plainsman who crosses our path,’ Ghett observed quietly.
‘Then how is it that you have survived?’ Kert asked.
‘I did not succumb to the sleeping spell, perhaps because of my royal burden,’ she said, touching her belly, ‘but quickly hid in a tree and was glad to have done so when a filthy Plainswoman came into the encampment stabbing the fallen guardsmen. Had she seen my Be’uccdha colouring,’ Ghett held out a brown arm, ‘I would have died along with them. Raiders came hours later, yet I waited in my cramped —’
‘Did you see me?’ Lae asked.
Ghett deigned to glance at her. ‘The Light’s magical aura caught my eye. I saw you come out of the royal tent with her, dragging the body of …’ She glanced away.
‘Mihale?’ Kert asked, his voice heavy with the burden of his guilt.
Ghett nodded slowly but Lae felt sure her grief was feigned. Lae herself was fearful and tired but she struggled to unfocus her eyes and use her powers of discernment to read Ghett’s aura. Her misty outline flickered and the focus slipped away, but in that moment Lae read truth from Ghett, and was surprised.
‘I remained here waiting,’ Ghett said, then glanced at Kert. ‘I knew you would come to recover your king’s seed.’
Kert’s eyes bored into her. ‘If I find you had a hand in his death,’ he said, and even Lae’s blood ran cold.
Yet this threat seemed to lift Ghett from her sadness and she raised her chin to look at Kert imperiously. ‘Cover your prisoner and let’s away. I grow tired of this discourse.’
Kert turned to Lae, eyeing her for long minutes as she clutched strips of fabric across her breasts and belly. She could not bear him to look at her with such speculation in his gaze and so she said, ‘I see you are indeed your father’s son,’ and was satisfied by the flare of anger that briefly lit his eyes. ‘Though even he would not stand by while a lady of Ennae was defiled.’
‘Were my father here,’ Kert said slowly, ‘he would “defile” you himself. And you are no longer a lady of Ennae. You would do well to remember that. You live by my leave. Trespass against that and you will die.’
Though there was a good three paces between them, Lae felt as though he had slapped her. She swallowed hard. ‘It will hide me from your displeasure should you cover me with a cloak,’ she said, careful to keep the hatred from her voice.
Kert was right. She was the daughter of a traitor to the throne, and he, lord of one of the only two remaining great Houses that served Ennae. When they reached the Volcastle he would take control of its defences in the king’s name. It was built to withstand prolonged sieges and could not be easily penetrated. Ghett and her child would be safe there, but would Lae?
He stared at her a moment longer, then untied his cloak at the throat and threw it to her. She was forced to drop her shreds of clothing to catch it, then was a moment arranging it on her shoulders. Kert showed no chivalry by turning away, but continued to stare at her until she was covered, the soft cloak gliding over her bare flesh like an unwanted lover’s touch. Yet she clutched it around her, fighting distaste, hating the way it was warmed from her enemy’s body, wishing yet again that Pagan had stayed with her, yet loving him the more for accepting the duty which required him to travel into exile with the child of The Light.
‘Hold out your hands,’ Kert demanded, and to save herself grief Lae did as she was told, wincing as he deliberately tightened the knots to her bruised wrists. He looked down into her eyes and narrowed his own. ‘Follow and cause no trouble or I will tie you to a tree and leave you for the Raiders.’
Lae nodded. At least her hands were before her now and not behind her back. Her shoulders had ached from that and would no longer. She must simply concentrate on keeping her feet when he tugged the rope and ignore the cramping of her empty stomach.
The morning mist was thick around them and Lae could barely see the trees at the edge of the clearing. They were two days march from the Volcastle and she had no idea whether Kert would march them straight through or stop for rests.
‘Are we taking food with us?’ Ghett asked. ‘The king’s son must be well fed.’ She patted her small belly and Lae was sure from her posture that she was exaggerating its prominence.
‘I have dry rations,’ Kert said, and gestured for Ghett to walk beside him.
‘Tasteless ort, no doubt,’ Ghett said and stood her ground.
From behind them Lae watched this battle of wills, wondering if Kert would be provoked into ‘disciplining’ Ghett. Certainly her plump arms and glowing skin showed no lack of nourishment thus far. Two days on dry rations would do her no ill.
‘Hear this, whore,’ he said softly. ‘You are not royalty, nor even a lady. You are the barrel into which My Lord and King has spurted his seed. That his child grows within you is no credit to you, and I shall accord you not the slightest respect. My duty is but to keep you alive until the new kin
g is born. If you anger me, your sad funeral will quickly follow on that happy hour.’
Lae felt chilled to hear these words and yet Ghett continued to gaze at Kert as though he had praised her, not threatened her life. Indeed, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lush lips. ‘There will be many nights, before that happy hour, in which you will find yourself alone and wanting a woman to warm your bed, Sh’hale.’ She raised a lazy eyebrow. ‘A woman who knows how to please a man. A woman fit for a king.’
Kert looked her up and down. ‘Lonely nights are a warrior’s lot,’ he said coldly. ‘And I would rather find pleasure in my own hand, which I can trust, than with a woman whose life is to deceive.’
Lae blushed at this coarse speaking, yet felt satisfaction in Ghett’s rejection. The maid was too bloated with self-importance, and though Lae hated Kert for his cruelty to herself, she found no quarrel with his callous treatment of Ghett. Though formerly a servant of Lae’s own house, Ghett was, as Kert described her, a whore who deserved no benefits save that which would ensure her child’s health. Kert’s fanatical duty towards his unborn king would demand no less.
‘Are we straight to the Volcastle?’ Ghett asked, her conversational tone belying the argument they had just ended. ‘It will be detrimental to the child for me to remain in dirty clothes for many days.’
Kert pulled on Lae’s rope to keep her following. ‘We do not stop,’ he replied, not looking at either woman, his eyes searching out the mist-laden forest ahead. ‘If you tire, Be’uccdha,’ he said to Lae, ‘I will leave you unprotected where you fall. The whore I concede to carry.’
‘How gallant,’ Ghett said dryly.
‘Indeed,’ Lae muttered from behind. But soon there was little time to think or to speak. Lae’s body was consumed with the effort of following Kert without tripping. The hours stumbled into one another and by afternoon her legs ached, her stomach was cramped for want of food or water, and her mind had grown befuddled and dizzy.
Daughter of the Dark: Shadow Through Time 2 Page 5
