Awakened Again
Waking with her cheek pressed against the stone floor, Jalcina thought for a moment she had fallen asleep beside her youngers bed again. Except the room was oppressively hot. The tunnels of Sartol rarely became hot. The altitude combined with their placement inside the mountain meant keeping heat was sometimes a struggle.
Opening her eyes, she expected the stove at the edge of the room to give off some light, but there was only a small square thrown from what she felt was a door. Her breath was the only true sound. Gazing around her shadowy domain, she considered calling out but fear closed her throat.
She was in a cell.
Vad'Alvarn would not have put her in a cell. Even when she fled from him, he had not jailed her or chained her. He had simply brought her back, or so she remembered. Her memories of their last moments together crowded hazy against her mind's eye. So much blood. With a hasty glance at her hands, Jalcina assured herself there was no blood then shook the feeling away. She dragged herself from the floor and staggered on unsteady feet to the door. Her cell was not the only one on the hall. Another, directly across, appeared to be occupied. If she strained, she could see a guard close enough to shout to.
"Come here," she said. The guard did not move, not even to look at her. "Please."
"They're not going to listen to you," came a man's voice from the other cell.
"Why not?"
"They've been told not to. You're an impostor."
The face which came to the far bars was lean, not quite gaunt, with a shadow of dark facial hair and strong eyes. He looked hungry, but she doubted a meal would be enough to satisfy him. He had a look she knew from the beggars and beasts that came to Sartol before winter settled in saying they would work for their keep, but who often ended up turned loose before the late blizzards. She didn't trust him.
"Impostor of what?"
A clatter at the end of the hall drew the guard away. The man in the far cell didn't answer her question. Instead, he focused on the commotion. Jalcina strained to see what he saw.
A tall woman led guards down the hall toward them and Jalcina stepped away from her door before they reached it. She watched the shadow of the woman fall into the light as she worked the lock in the metal door. It swung open. With the light haloing her body, Jalcina couldn't see who stood in the doorway, but from a quick scan she saw she wore weapons.
"Who are you?" Jalcina shielded her eyes to get a better look at the woman.
"You know my name, Impostor. Gather yourself. It is time."
When the woman came forward with two guards at her back, Jalcina retreated to the far wall.
"What's my crime?" she asked as the guards placed chains at her wrists.
"Pretending to be the dear Immortal Leviana, slaughtered Queen of the realm."
Leviana, Jalcina knew that name from only one person, Vad'Alvarn. Misty recollections reminded her of that name on his lips.
"Where is Vad'Alvarn?"
The guards exchanged looks, but said nothing. The woman froze.
"Who are you to utter the name of the Black King?"
"His chosen wife." Though Jalcina hated to say it, his name had brought them to a halt. She pressed. "I will see him. Now."
The guards stepped away as Versa stalked forward and struck Jalcina to the floor with a clatter of metal.
"You will not speak of him."
With a smarting head, Jalcina stood up and stared Versa down. "Take me to him."
"You go to your trial. There you will die." Versa grabbed the length of chain hanging from Jalcina's wrists and snatched her forward. Jalcina caught herself and hauled back, dragging an unsuspecting Versa off her feet. They went down in a grunting heap. The guards scurried to right the mess. Jalcina smirked as Versa sputtered to her feet.
"Come with me," Versa commanded. "The Voice will pronounce sentence."
They moved out of the cell in single file, a guard in front and a guard behind the two women. Jalcina looked around and even peered into the darkness of the other cell. Whoever had been there kept out of sight. She imagined he waved goodbye as they left.
They spiraled up into the palace where they passed a small window which brought Jalcina to a stop. Arathum sprawled below running down the mountainside like water. The boulevards moved in the half-concentrated way of rivers with people. So many people. Her time cooped up in the Women's Palace had not allowed her much room or time to see the people of the capital of the Burning Island.
A harsh tug on her chains brought her attention back.
"Come."
Jalcina cast another glance out the window before continuing forward. There would be time enough to see the sights, if she survived. All she had to do was survive. Her body prepared even as her mind whirled with stark blinding fear.
They entered the council chamber. Immediately Jalcina sought something to make sense of it all. The room churned with people who all turned to look at her. Some rose from their seats. A man brought his hand to his face to hide his mouth. Instead of watching them, Jalcina lifted her gaze and there she saw it in the corner of the room, the faded and tattered banner of Sartol, her home.
It hung in the gathering room of Sartol. Or it had. Jalcina drew back and shook herself out of her revelry as a man standing near the head of the table spoke to her.
"Are you prepared?"
She furrowed her brow. "Prepared for what?"
"Have you forgotten so quickly?" Kendrick asked. "It was only yesterday you demanded a trial by combat to prove your right to the throne. Perhaps your three hundred years are catching up with you."
"Three hundred years?" Jalcina blinked. Vad'Alvarn had been four hundred when they met. "Oh, of course." He saw something special in her. Perhaps this was it, her lack of aging. A chance for her to be like him.
"Versa, Trusted, are you prepared?"
Versa bowed to Kendrick. "I am prepared."
"Then it is time," Kendrick said. "We will move to the Queen's practice ground so that this matter may be settled immediately."
The council moved from the room in ones and twos, some stopping to look her over before they moved out. Jalcina, in the company of Versa and Kendrick, was the last to leave. Even the guards went out before them, as if they had nothing to fear from the woman in chains. Truthfully, they didn't. Jalcina's mind ran with fear. Combat. She was not prepared.
Versa stayed close as they walked, though she didn't look at her. Out onto the sand garden of the palace, Jalcina found herself looking for landmarks. If three hundred years had passed, what was there she would remember? The question left her reeling like a festival drunk.
Where much of the land of the palace was rocks and sand, sometimes arranged in patterns, the practice field looked like graying leather complete with the minute cracks across its clay face of being broken in. The council stayed off the clay, but formed a waning moon shape at one end of the field. The guards undid Jalcina's chains and dragged them away as Versa stood a few feet off. Kendrick watched the proceedings with the air of someone without a care.
A girl, perhaps ten with her nose still smattered with freckles, came forward bearing two slender swords. She approached Jalcina first.
"You should not serve a criminal before your mistress," Versa said. The girl reversed course to bring the swords to Versa first.
"I thought—"
"She is not her. She only wears a close face."
"Oh."
"Now you may take her a blade."
When the girl came close, Jalcina knelt down to her level. She reminded her of Soren. All limbs and childishness. Yet while Soren would have been running loose with his puppy, this little girl was dragging around s
words. The girl offered Jalcina the remaining blade.
"What's your name?"
"Don't you remember?"
"I'm sorry that I forgot," Jalcina said. "Will you tell me again?"
"You called me Pepeta, after the flower of the Coralai."
"Thank you, Pepeta. You have done well."
The hilt felt fine in her hand as she stood up and watched the girl go. She shut her eyes on the memory. Whatever calm descended on her, she blessed the gods for it. Fear would do her no good. With an uneasy motion, she tested her strength. Perhaps another sword would have been heavy, but this one felt comfortable as she brought it up for an easy stroke.
Kendrick raised his hands at the edge of the makeshift arena.
"This is highly irregular. However, I ask that you bear witness to this, a trial by combat to determine the truth of an impostor's claim to the throne."
A cacophony erupted. Some assented. Others did not. Jalcina made no attempt to make sense of it. Instead, she closed her eyes and concentrated on getting through the next few minutes. Navar once told her fights rarely lasted long. One side developed a quick advantage.
She could only hope the advantage would be to her.
An ancient prayer for safety came to her lips, but it seemed inappropriate since she stood in combat not against a blizzard. Yet the words refused to disappear.
Above them, ominous clouds gathered as if the world passed judgment on the proceedings. If it rained, the ground would become treacherous and troublesome. Jalcina hoped against it.
Versa did not approach, but stood off with her face toward Kendrick standing at the edge of the battleground attended by the council. For several long moments, he hadn't moved, but kept his head down in contemplation.
There was no signal to begin.
Jalcina drew a circle around herself with the tip of the blade. Once upon a time, circles meant protection. The valley in which Sartol resided was a circle and it kept them safe from the worst of the blizzards. The copse of trees around the man-eater were a circle to keep the creature under the shade of the trees.
Yet it almost managed to take Soren.
Her eyes went to the little girl, withdrawn to almost hiding, but undoubtedly waiting to see th end of this spectacle. Would she cry if she watched Jalcina fall thinking she was the other woman who had been so kind to her? It was a harsh thought.
Kendrick's head came up and he raised his hands for silence.
The growing wind thrust away the hush falling over the crowd with a howl.
The world cried in despair.
Dropping his hands, Kendrick cried, "Begin!"
The word hung above them and neither woman moved. Then Versa sprang forward, her blade straight out as if she intended to end the battle with one stroke. Though it was clumsy, Jalcina brought her blade up and around enough to deflect the chosen blow. It forced her to one side of her circle, but not out.
Versa slid past, but as she did, she attempted another stroke. Again Jalcina managed to defend.
Vad'Alvarn had not insisted on her being educated in the sword. He had insisted on very little with her as long as she was content not to run away and make him chase her through another blizzard and across half a continent. It had been Navar who assisted her, who had taken an interest in knowing what she knew. Of course, part of it was pride, she had bested him with little effort. Even once he knew Jalcina had not been the one to do it, he still came to her with a weapon and made her use it.
Jalcina thanked his spirit for her life.
With Versa behind her, Jalcina did not try to keep her eye on her opponent. Instead, she set her feet and prepared for the next assault while keeping her ears open. A scuff gave her the direction of Versa's attack letting her defend, but more quickly this time.
At the edge, Kendrick paced a hungry lion's pace, long measured strides carrying him back and forth.
Versa glanced at him even as she tried once more to bring her sword flat down on Jalcina's face. Without stepping out of her circle, Jalcina evaded and attacked. Versa's guard came up instantly and she retreated a few steps. Jalcina's blade swirled air and a grumble crossed the smoke colored sky.
Heaven watched and it was not pleased.
Shuffling her feet, Jalcina moved around the edge of her circle toward Versa who seemed locked in indecision. Whatever she had expected had not come to pass and now she had to decide what to do next.
As Versa looked to Kendrick for either solace or instruction, Jalcina struck. A touch of pleasure ran through her at the sight of Versa taking a hit to her off arm that caused the woman to retreat even further back.
One look spoke volumes.
Versa's eyes detailed how she would murder Jalcina. She sprang forward with a flurry of blows intending to throw Jalcina off her guard and make her have to retreat or take an injury. Jalcina's defense, though imperfect, was adequate to keep from stepping out of the circle. When Versa separated from her again, the woman dragged her off arm as if it had taken a stronger hit than she realized.
Blood dripped onto the gray ground from the woman's fingers.
Kendrick's look grew dark and he stopped stone still with his hands clasped before him. Around him, the council reduced to robes with faceless heads in Jalcina's eyes. Their indistinct features made them more frightening than even the air of menace growing around Kendrick.
The wind screamed, threatening to throw everyone to the ground. Bracing against it, Jalcina almost missed Versa's attack coming at her across the wind. It opened her sword arm above the elbow. The soft trickle of blood said it wasn't deep. However, Versa's pleased look made Jalcina uneasy.
Their blades rang off each other in the next round, a melodic sound belying the rising violence.
Jalcina's hair, untied as it was, strayed in and out of her vision throwing shadows over her eyes.
The fight wore on her, every motion slowing in response.
Versa, even dragging her left arm, moved with fresh crispness.
The advantage, in spite of injury, went to her.
Jalcina refused despair and fear. Once she stood against Navar with Vad'Alvarn's sword. Though she had been uncertain, she stood her ground.
In the face of a warlord king, she chose to stand in strength.
There was no way she was going to let some stranger frighten her.
The vocal wind brought with its next blast a chill so strong it thrust itself into the bones of the assembled and brought an unexpected thickness of snow.
It never snowed in Arathum.
Gasps of shock and cries of surprise rose from everyone as Jalcina put her free hand out to catch a gobbet. It wasn't the light powdery snow of the lower elevations, this was the prelude to a blizzard snow of home.
Surprise and delight covered her face as she watched the others seeking cover where there was none. Though she was not dressed for this weather, it was her weather. In it, she was fearless.
Snow In Arathum
As he sought cover, Kendrick's mind raced.
Snow in Arathum.
Impossible.
Yet there it was, dropping from the sky and swirling with malicious delight to cover the sullen ground. Worse, in it, he felt something unexpected.
Magic.
The unnatural storm had been summoned, but raged without control. The wind screamed and tore at the clothing of those who tried to hide. In the middle of it, Jalcina stood as it yanked at her hair and the paltry shift she wore. Around her feet, the snow thickened. Kendrick silenced his desire to simply destroy her by his own power.
He would lose the influence it took him years to cultivate. And perhaps cost him Versa. In spite of her choices, she still believed in the idea this could be done without killing anyone.
Naive, but laudable.
At his elbow, the Xasan, his guard captain, appeared. Kendrick replaced the one Leviana kept for years. After all, he didn't want to have to deal with too many of those divided loyalties. The man shifted uneasily as his eyes tracked the still
growing blizzard. He couldn't be blamed for his dis-ease. Snow did not happen this far south.
"Corral her."
Kendrick couldn't tie the happening to Jalcina without proof. Some of the council had seen Leviana do amazing things over the course of their lives, but they had never seen her summon weather before. Kendrick hadn't even known she was capable of it.
To his credit, Xasan immediately gestured for several others to accompany him and marched out into the driving wind and near blinding snow to re-capture the woman who refused to hide from the weather.
Jalcina shivered some, but not nearly as much as she should have given the driving wind and constant snow. Instead, she welcomed the feeling of it caressing her face and landing in her eyelashes.
It spoke of home.
The gray caves of Sartol cut into the mountain. The cliffs over the chasm. The lover's rocks where she often met her dearest Lecern. Even the way the snow clung to the branches in the copse of trees where the evil resided. Lord Mordaen, her father, told her many times of the way the wind cried out both in warning for those who would listen and in mourning of those who would or could not. Such was the sound surrounding her even as she watched the men approach.
Their interest in her capture was clear.
The question was did she intend to stand her ground and be captured? Or should she attempt her escape?
Pushing her hair out of her eyes, she took quick stock of where she was.
There was no escape.
Even if she made it to the wall she could just see some distance away, she would have to scale it in this rising blizzard and then she had little idea what was beyond it.
Jalcina dropped her sword to the ground where it puffed snow with a wumpf.
Though she did not offer her hands when the Captain approached, she did not step away. Instead, she stood there until he put his hand on her shoulder.
"This way," he said.
They walked past Versa who remained stock still throughout it all, her shoulders and head becoming covered in thick white as scarlet blood dripped to the covered ground.
When she did not attempt to escape, but was led away, Kendrick turned back to the battle ground. Versa had not moved.
Ruins of Fate (Fate Circle Saga Book 3) Page 1
