“Fires of the Nine Hells!” The man with the thick mustache spat. “Brother Asp really was a snake. I’m starting to wonder if those rumors about his involvement in the capture of Haraxius weren’t true.”
“Now is not the time for such speculation, especially when there is nothing we can do to exact vengeance.” Something smoldered in Brother Hawk’s eyes. Ythnel guessed it might be the fires of revenge. “For now, we need to decide where to go. I suggest Mordulkin. As many of you may have guessed, our potential ally is from that city.”
“Need I remind you that Mordulkin lies on the other side of the bay?” Another of the mages, his face lean and head shaved bald, spoke up. “That would require trekking around Luthcheq. I’m sure the Karanoks will have patrols swarming the countryside. Simply expelling us from the city will not be enough for them.”
“Why not Cimbar?” the mustached mage suggested. “They are across the Adder River and are no friends of Luthcheq.”
“That also means crossing Adder Swamp, Brother Fox,” Brother Hawk said grimly. “I do not think we are prepared for that. I still say Mordulkin is our best hope. If we are careful, we can avoid patrols.”
“Decide quickly,” the fourth mage hissed. “I see riders.” Everyone turned toward the direction he was pointing to see a plume of dust rising from back toward the city.
“Fires of the Nine Hells, indeed. Into the swamp! We’ll ride for Cimbar.” Brother Hawk spurred his horse into motion once more, galloping toward the borders of the Adder Swamp.
The grouped raced westward, but their pace eventually slowed to a canter to avoid exhausting the horses. There was a palpable shift in the mood of the group that accompanied the change from a frantic gallop to a more steady, even flight. Panic drained away and was replaced by silent reflection. Ythnel noticed it within herself. Where before her mind had been clear, focused only on escape, thoughts now began to filter in. An image of Prisus and Iuna, bound and being led into the audience chamber at the palace, floated to the front of her mind. It faded and was replaced by Prisus chained to a stake, wailing in despair as Ythnel walked away. She wondered where Iuna was and how Kaestra was treating her.
It was strange that she should be so concerned with the fate of the girl who had caused the whole mess. Iuna had been Ythnel’s first responsibility upon leaving the temple, and she had failed miserably. But it was something more than guilt. There was a connection between them that Ythnel could not explain. She had sensed it that first night in the Saelis house, as she prayed to Loviatar. The girl needed Ythnel, needed the guidance she could provide.
“You look like you lost your best friend. Or lover, perhaps?”
Ythnel came out of her reverie and noticed the mustached mage had fallen back to ride even with her. She hadn’t caught what he had said and gave him a confused look.
“The man next to you on the platform back in the execution yard, was he your lover?”
“No,” Ythnel shook her head. The man looked at her expectantly, but she didn’t elaborate.
“Well, anyway, Brother Hawk asked me to come back here and check on you. He was worried you might be distracted; you’re starting to fall behind.”
Ythnel looked up. The next horse was easily a hundred yards away. She cast a glance back over her shoulder. The patrol from Luthcheq was getting closer. She could actually make out darker spots within the cloud of dust that was following them.
“Sorry. Thanks for the warning.” She nudged her horse a bit faster. The mage nodded and matched her pace.
They rode in silence for a while, closing the gap with the rest of the group. When they finally caught back up, Ythnel decided to ask a question that had been nagging her.
“Why the animal names?”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you call each other by animal names?” she repeated.
“Oh, that. It was a way to protect our identities. We were a secret society, after all.” A broad grin accompanied the mirth in his voice.
“I suppose there’s really no point in it anymore; just hard to let go of some things.” He brought his horse in close to Ythnel and extended his hand. “My name is Viulvos, formerly Brother Fox.”
“I’m Ythnel.” She accepted his hand with a brief smile. “Who are the others?”
“Well, the portly fellow in front of us is Brother Tortoise, who goes by the given name of Muctos. Our fearless leader, Brother Hawk, who you’ve already met, is known outside the society as Kestus. Riding behind him is Brother Crocodile. I don’t know his real name, unfortunately. One of the safety precautions we took was to share our true identity with only two or three other members. That way, if one of us was captured, we couldn’t reveal who everyone was.”
Ythnel nodded. It sounded like a wise move.
“Hmm, it appears our pursuit is gaining on us.” Viulvos’s comment caused Ythnel to turn and look back. Sure enough, she could now make out several small shapes that resembled horses. “Perhaps we should increase the pace a little.” Viulvos excused himself and rode back up to Kestus. After a brief council, Kestus spurred his horse faster and shouted for the others to do likewise.
At the edge of the swamp, Kestus brought them to a halt.
“We’ll go single file, slow and cautious. Do not stray. The ground is just as dangerous as anything else.” With that, he led them in.
Twisted, black-barked trees crowded together, competing for what little solid terrain there was. Even in winter, without their leaves, the branches of the trees were so intertwined that only small patches of sky were visible through the canopy. A perpetual haze floated up from the swamp floor, gases escaping in crude belches to warm the air, creating tepid, oily moisture that clung to everything. The wet bogs sucked at the horses’ hooves, reluctant to let go.
Ythnel found herself once again at the rear of the line. She looked back quite often, though more from wariness of the sounds she heard than fear of seeing their pursuers suddenly appear. The noises of the swamp were strange to her. A rustle, the snap of a twig, a bird caw, or the hoarse cough of some beast echoed in such a way that she couldn’t tell if it was a mile away or right behind her. She shivered at the eerie silences that hung between. It was nothing at all like the continuous bustle of the city.
Their path weaved through the trees, reminding Ythnel of the flight of a dazed housefly after it had been smacked with a roll of parchment. The terrain made it impossible to move in a straight line. Pockets of quicksand or deep pools of water were encountered every few yards, forcing the group to backtrack or alter their course many times. Tension within the group was palpable. As Kestus turned them around yet again to avoid a large expanse of water, it became too much. With a frustrated cry, the mage who Viulvos had named Muctos urged his horse into the stagnant mire.
“No, Brother Tortoise, don’t!” Kestus shouted.
“I’m tired of all these detours! We’re not making any progress. If we just cut across—” Muctos hollered back as his horse waded in up to its rider’s calves.
“You don’t know how deep it could get, Muctos. Now turn back before we have to come in there and pull you out.”
Movement beyond Muctos caught Ythnel’s eye. A shape as thick as her leg and longer than the horse dropped from a distant tree into the still water with barely a ripple. Unsure of what she was seeing, Ythnel moved her horse closer to the water and squinted. For several moments, the surface of the water was unbroken, save for the splashing made by Muctos’s progress. Then Ythnel spotted what appeared to be a half-submerged log floating across the top of the water. Ythnel blinked and realized the log was not floating; it was slithering, slowly closing in on an unaware Muctos.
“Look out!” Ythnel warned, pointing at what she could now clearly see was a huge snake. Muctos’s horse panicked and reared, dumping the mage into the swamp. The snake quickly switched targets, veering toward the floundering man. Three bolts of green light streaked across the swamp and slammed into the snake. It sank from view.
Mucto
s’s horse had made it back to shore, but the mage was hindered by his cloak and was barely keeping his head above water.
“I should leave you to drown,” Kestus spat as he started to walk his horse out to Muctos. He was still ten feet from the mage, when the snake reared up out of the water right behind Muctos with a demonic hiss. The floundering mage swiveled around to come face-to-face with the monstrous serpent and screamed.
Another barrage of green-colored arcane darts smote the snake in the face, almost tearing its head clear off. It hovered half out of the water for an instant before sliding back below the surface, a growing cloud of red under the water marking its location.
Kestus pulled a panicked Muctos onto the back of his horse and waded back ashore. Muctos slid of the horse and flopped onto his back, breathing hard, his soaked clothing clinging to him. “Thank you, Brother Hawk.”
“Fool,” Kestus rebuked. “Adder Swamp is so named because of the deadly snakes that infest it. Legend has it that their venom is so poisonous, the god-king Gilgeam nearly died when he was bitten by one while crossing the Adder River.
“Now get on your horse. I trust we’ll have no more side trips from anyone else after this.”
Everyone rode in silence. It was unclear what time it was, as the swamp haze and tree branches obscured the sun overhead, but Ythnel guessed it must be close to highsun. Her belly was grumbling. She doubted there were any meals in the near future. There hadn’t been any meals in the recent past, either, she realized. In fact, the last thing she could remember eating was morningfeast that first morning at Master Saelis’s. Visions of grilled sausage and eggs danced unbidden in her head. Her stomach rumbled even louder.
“A bit hungry, are we?” Viulvos grinned over his shoulder at Ythnel. “Perhaps Muctos would be so kind as to catch us a big, fat, juicy snake we could roast over a fire.”
“Ha, ha, very funny, Brother Fox.” Muctos frowned from his new position at the end of the procession. Ythnel giggled.
“At least someone appreciates my humor,” Viulvos said. He turned in his saddle so he was facing Ythnel and slowed his horse a bit, closing the distance between them. They rode together for a while without speaking. Ythnel could feel Viulvos watching her from the corner of his eye. Several times he appeared about to speak, but he turned away when she looked at him.
Finally, Ythnel’s patience ran out. “What would you ask of me?”
“Heh, was I that obvious? Very well, I do admit to being curious about a few things. You said you weren’t a wizard, but you are a Thayan?”
Ythnel nodded. “You can be one without the other.”
“Right, right. I suppose you get that a lot.” Viulvos smiled apologetically. “Can I ask what brought you to Luthcheq? I wouldn’t think someone from a country known for its wizards would consider a city prejudiced against the Art as a destination.”
“I took a job as a governess.”
“And the man you were with up on the platform, he was your employer?”
Ythnel nodded, suddenly unable to speak as a wave of emotion washed over her. Why had it all gone so wrong? Anger and sadness fought for control within her.
The play of emotions must have been visible on Ythnel’s face because Viulvos said, “We don’t have to talk about it if it is too painful.”
“No, that’s not it. I barely knew Master Saelis or Iuna. I’m more angry than anything, I guess.”
“Iuna? She was the girl you were caring for?”
“Mm-hmm. And the one who started this whole mess.”
“Really? How so?” Viulvos was obviously intrigued; his eyebrow arched above his left eye.
“She accused me of witchcraft in front of Naeros Karanok.”
“Oh, my, that would certainly cause problems. Why would she do that?”
“She was a spoiled brat and didn’t like me.” Ythnel didn’t hold back the vitriol in her voice. “As I understand it, the family had gone through several governesses before me.”
“So, did she have any proof? As zealous as the Karanoks are, I can’t imagine them just sentencing you to death without something to support their claim.”
“I cast a spell when Naeros tried to capture me.”
“But I thought you said you weren’t a wizard.”
“I am not.” Ythnel hesitated but decided to continue. Ever since she had left the manor, she had been met with strange looks and outright hatred whenever she told someone who she was. It had made her leery of telling others about her faith, but the thought that she might be growing ashamed of her beliefs was something she could not tolerate.
“I am a handmaiden of Loviatar.” Ythnel tensed, waiting for the reaction.
“Interesting,” Viulvos replied, stroking his mustache. “I heard that Jaerios Karanok forbade his son from joining the Loviatan faith, the state religion being what it is and all that. I bet he wasn’t too pleased to learn about you.”
“No, he was not,” Ythnel said, a slight edge to her voice.
“My apologies, I did not mean to offend.”
Ythnel dismissed it with a wave of her hand.
Viulvos opened his mouth, but was interrupted as his horse started prancing around and neighing nervously.
“What’s going on?” Ythnel looked up to see all the horses acting skittishly. The riders eventually got them under control and came together. They were on a flat expanse of firm ground between a scattering of the twisted, rough-barked trees, with a small hillock covered in some unidentifiable vegetation sitting on the west side. Ythnel realized an eerie silence had settled over the swamp. All was quiet but for a slight breeze that rustled through the grasses and leaves on the hillock, creating a strange ripple effect across its face. The hairs on the back of Ythnel’s neck went stiff and straight, and a shiver ran down her spine. She glanced around, alert for the sudden appearance of the source of the sense of impending doom that was spreading through her, but the only things visible were the black-barked swamp trees that surrounded them like unmoving sentinels.
Something tickled in the back of Ythnel’s mind. She swept back across the clearing, taking in the wind-tousled vegetation of the hillock and the still branches of the trees.
The trees weren’t moving. There was no wind.
The hillock reared up, supported by thick vines, and opened a maw filled with teeth-like rows of thorns and sharp branches. It lunged forward on the leg-like vines while leafy limbs whipped out from its side.
“Look out!” Ythnel screamed, but it was too late. One of the limbs knocked Viulvos from his saddle. Another wrapped around the startled horse, which barely got out a neigh of terror as it was lifted into the air. Time seemed transfixed, the scene frozen for a heartbeat before rushing back into chaotic and grisly motion.
“Brother Fox, get out of there!” Kestus bellowed. The fallen mage lay stunned on the ground, staring as his mount disappeared into the mouth of the plant monster. Muctos’s horse bolted, taking its startled rider with it. As it reached the edge of the clearing, it passed under a low branch of one of the swamp trees, which caught a helpless Muctos full in the chest, ripping him right off the horse’s back and slamming him to the ground. He lay there, motionless, while the horse ran off into the swamp.
“Brother Crocodile, get Brother Tortoise,” Kestus ordered as he struggled to get his mount back under control. “Ythnel, grab Brother Fox.”
Brother Crocodile rode over to where Muctos had fallen. He was forced to dismount but kept one hand wrapped in the horse’s mane. It was not enough. As soon as his feet touched the ground, the horse spun away, wrenching the hairs from Brother Crocodile’s grasp. The mage tried to chase after the animal but gave up as it faded from view. He turned back to bend over Muctos’s still form.
Ythnel dug her heels into her horse’s ribs, steering her reluctant mount closer to Viulvos, who was finally scrambling to his feet. She reached out a hand to pull him up, but he was jerked away by another leafy tentacle. He screamed as he was lifted up into the air, dangling by
his ankle.
Frantic neighing drew Ythnel’s attention to her right. Kestus’s mount was bucking, its eyes wide enough that the whites showed all the way around. The mage was thrown to the muddy dirt of the swamp, but the animal kept bucking, a lather starting to form around its lips. Its momentum carried it smashing into a tree. Ythnel heard the crunch of bone as its head bashed into a thick branch, and the horse collapsed to the ground.
Kestus had picked himself up by the time Ythnel looked back. He tossed something on the ground in front of himself then sprinkled a handful of dust over the object while chanting. A sphere of flame appeared before him, quickly growing to a diameter of five feet. Kestus pointed at the monster, and the sphere rolled toward its target, striking the side of ambulatory plant and bouncing away. The vegetation blackened and shriveled where the sphere touched, but the living greenery failed to catch fire, perhaps protected by the swamp muck that coated it. Ythnel heard Kestus curse.
A cry from Brother Crocodile pulled Ythnel around once more. The plant creature’s other tentacle was groping for the mages. Brother Crocodile had managed to pull Muctos back, putting the tree between them and the threatening limb. Ythnel could see his mouth moving and watched as Brother Crocodile pointed a finger at the tentacle. A thin ray of ice-blue shot out from his fingertip and struck the tentacle, frosting the vegetation. The monster jerked back its limb then lashed out. Brother Crocodile ducked as the tentacle swept across and slammed into the tree with enough force to shake loose several branches.
Desperation and panic threatened to overwhelm Ythnel. Nothing they did seemed to affect the plant creature. Their attacks were little more than distractions to its feeding. Kestus slammed the flaming sphere into the monster yet again, but it had the same lack of effect as before. In fact, the spot where he had first struck had turned green again, filling out with new growth. Ythnel helplessly watched Viulvos flail wildly as he was lowered into the monster’s waiting jaws. She turned away, but she could still hear the crunch of bone and the suddenly cut-off screams as the plant monster ingested the mage.
Maiden of Pain Page 12
