The Sworn

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by Gail Z. Martin


  The crypt smelled of dust and decay. A damp, loamy smell spoke of disuse. It was obvious from the leaves that had piled inside the entranceway that the crypt was long unused. Judging by the pathway, it had been decades, perhaps longer, since anyone mortal had come this way. Elsbet moved surely, although once inside the crypt, there was no light. Even hidden away in the furthest corner of her mind, Aidane fought back panic as Elsbet began to descend the carved, stone steps into the deepest reaches of the crypt.

  In the darkness, there was a rush of air. Strong hands seized Aidane’s arms roughly. The darkness was complete, suffocating. “Why have you come?” It was a strange voice, rough and angry. But before Aidane could fight her way back to consciousness, Elsbet’s assured voice answered their assailant.

  “I’m here to see Kolin. Tell him that Elsbet has come.”

  The grip on Aidane’s shoulders did not loosen. She was pushed more than led down the pitch-black corridor. In the distance, Aidane could hear stirrings, as if many beings moved in the darkness. The deeper they went, the colder it became. Suddenly, the man pinning Aidane’s shoulders turned her sharply. She expected to slam into a wall, but instead she stepped through a doorway into a large, darkened room.

  “Kolin. We have a visitor. A mortal. Says her name is Elsbet.”

  Aidane saw a spark strike, and a candle flared into light. Kolin held the candle, and the shadows made the angles of his face more severe. He was staring at her intently, with an angry gaze. “What kind of trick is this?” Kolin’s voice was a cold growl.

  Elsbet’s spirit swelled within Aidane’s consciousness. “I’ve waited over two hundred years, my love,” Elsbet said, words pouring from Aidane’s lips in fluent Dhassonian. Aidane had enough consciousness left to recognize that the voice, though it spoke from her mouth, was not her own. The gestures as her body took a tentative step toward Kolin were unfamiliar, though her body moved gracefully. “I’ve seen you come to the crypt, come to my body. I’ve seen the gifts you’ve brought to me. I wept, but you couldn’t hear me. But tonight, we can be together again.”

  Kolin’s eyes widened. His face was a mixture of curiosity and horror. “Leave us,” he said to Zhan and the others. They hesitated, looking at Aidane, and then slipped into the dark corridor, leaving Kolin and Aidane alone. In the candlelight, Aidane could see that the room had been furnished like a comfortable parlor. A wide couch and upholstered chairs sat at either end of a Noorish carpet. There were other candles and lamps on a small table, but they were dusty with disuse. Vayash moru had little use for light and reason to fear the fire.

  “How can I believe you?” Kolin’s voice was uncertain, wavering between disbelief and anger.

  Elsbet’s spirit moved Aidane’s body another step closer, and Kolin backed up a step, wary. “The night I died, I wore a blue velvet dress,” Elsbet said, her Dhassonian accent growing thicker. “I wore the onyx necklace you bought for me. Father tore the necklace off my throat. It left a gash. He struck me with the candlestick from my room. The blow laid open my scalp, and when I fell, my forehead hit the hearth. I think I died then, but Father struck my body several more times before he seemed to come to his senses.

  “You broke through the window. I’d never seen such a look in your eyes. You saw my body, and you struck Father with your open palm. It hurled him across the room. He was drunk, and sobbing, saying that he didn’t mean to go so far, but you were a wild thing.” Her voice became hushed, choked with tears. “You tore him apart. And when he was dead and you were covered in his blood, you found the necklace and you put it in your pocket. You carried me out of the room and up to the crypt, and you made a place for me to lie. You put the necklace back on my throat, and you held my body, rocking me like a child.” Tears were running down Aidane’s face. Elsbet’s voice was just a whisper. “No one was there but the two of us, my love. I was dead. If you didn’t tell the tale to anyone, then who but you and I would know?”

  Kolin had not moved. Aidane had meant to lock herself away in the place within her mind where she went to hide. Don’t go yet, Elsbet pleaded. If I know Kolin, he’ll want to know that you’ve given me permission to use this body, that you haven’t been forced to it. Please, don’t go yet. Now, Aidane saw the scene as if she were detached, as if the images she saw with her eyes weren’t quite her own. Kolin stood completely still, and if it were possible for a vayash moru to be ashen, then Kolin was pale with shock. Denied tears by the Dark Gift, his expression was agonized. His grief looked as fresh as it had been on that night more than two hundred years ago. With a cry, Kolin fell to his knees and pressed Aidane’s hand against his cool cheek.

  “I should never have let you go home that night,” Kolin whispered in a strangled voice. “Or I should have gone with you, to protect you. I knew your father hated me, but I never really thought he would hurt you. When you were delayed, I came to the window after I woke. And I saw you, lying there—” Kolin squeezed his eyes closed as if he were seeing the scene fresh in his memory. Elsbet moved Aidane’s hand to stroke Kolin’s hair.

  “I know, my love. I know. Everything you said to me that night, everything you’ve said to me all the nights that you visited me in the crypt, I heard every word. My spirit was with you, reaching for you, but I could never touch you, never comfort you. Until now.” Elsbet knelt, taking Kolin’s face between her hands. “For tonight, we can be together once more. It’s been too long. Let me warm you. Love me, and remember.”

  Kolin closed his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know how this is possible. I hear Elsbet, but I see Aidane. And yet, in every movement, every breath, you are Elsbet. How can that be?”

  “She is a true serroquette. We made a deal, Aidane and I. I bargained with her for one last night with you, before I went to my rest in the Lady. She wished to show her gratitude. She gives herself willingly to this arrangement.”

  Kolin’s eyes searched Aidane’s face. “Is this true?” Aidane knew that the question was addressed to her, and not to Elsbet’s spirit. “Aidane, if you can hear me, I must know. Is this done with your consent? I won’t force this on you.”

  Aidane felt Elsbet’s spirit pull back, and Aidane moved out of her hiding place. It was odd cohabitating her body with a spirit; Aidane couldn’t remember ever doing so. It took thought and effort to make her own voice speak. “Elsbet and I have an agreement,” Aidane said, in her own voice, speaking Common instead of Dhassonian, with a strong Nargi accent. “I consent. You and Elsbet have my blessing. Elsbet can inhabit my body for two candlemarks, but no longer. Don’t waste the time you’ve been given.”

  Aidane pulled back, giving Elsbet the forefront of her consciousness. Aidane’s shielding during her clients’ encounters was always imperfect. This night, it seemed especially difficult for Aidane to completely block out how the spirit used her body. She tried not to hear the long-delayed endearments, tried to ignore the urgency of Kolin’s touch. If there had been any doubt about whether the love Kolin and Elsbet shared had been genuine, the passion of their reunion left no room to question. Aidane could feel Elsbet’s grief begin to ease as tentative touches gave way to long overdue passion.

  Kolin was a gentle lover. The candle had gone out, and in the darkness, Aidane knew it would be easier for Kolin to imagine that the face and form of his lover was Elsbet’s, and not Aidane’s. Elsbet returned his caresses joyously, without reservation. Aidane wondered whether in life, Elsbet had been just as uninhibited and whether she had a similar zest for living. Perhaps it had been the life that burned so brightly within Elsbet that had attracted Kolin. In Nargi, the idea that a vayash moru might take a human lover was unthinkable, let alone that they might be free to marry. But over the weeks she had traveled with Jolie and Kolin, Aidane had watched Jolie and Astir together. Their affection looked as genuine as any couple’s, and more heartfelt than most.

  Now, as Kolin and Elsbet made love, Aidane could not shut out the intensity of their emotions. Elsbet was overjoyed at the reunion and the unexpe
cted possibility to reunite with her lover. Kolin’s joy was bittersweet, tempered by the knowledge that this night would be one brief homecoming. Elsbet’s spirit looked forward to a final rest. But for Kolin, Aidane knew, after this night, his grief would continue, made fresh and new by losing Elsbet all over again.

  Why do the vayash moru risk loving mortals, when we die so quickly?

  Aidane heard Elsbet’s murmur in reply. Because our life and our blood warms them. They remember what they’ve lost. Kolin meant to bring me across. We were to be together, always. Except things didn’t go as we had planned.

  Aidane tried to draw back, giving the lovers as much privacy as she could. But always in these couplings, her consciousness was not as far removed as she gave her clients to believe. Aidane had sensed many motives from both the living and the dead lovers she had served. Few reunited with pure intentions. Some returned to cause guilt, and others came to complete old fights. Some came for revenge and others for emotional sadism. But there had been a few over the years who had lost themselves in the sheer joy of reunion. Because a serroquette was unlikely to ever win real love of her own, then Aidane accepted that these few reunions were as close as she would ever experience of anything akin to true love.

  Too soon, Aidane could feel the possession waning. Elsbet felt it, too, and fear and sadness thrilled through Aidane as Elsbet knew her hold was slipping.

  “So soon?” Kolin’s voice was achingly plaintive.

  Elsbet reached up in the darkness to run her fingers along his cheek, down his shoulder and arm, letting her palm slide along his chest. His skin was warm, letting Aidane know that earlier this evening, Kolin had fed well. “It was chance alone that let us have this evening.” Elsbet smiled, and leaned up to kiss Kolin gently. “I’ve missed you.”

  Kolin wrapped his arms fiercely around her, burying his face in her hair. “Don’t leave me again.” But even as he spoke, Elsbet’s consciousness was slipping away.

  “Good-bye, my love. Let me go now, and go on. You’ve been faithful long enough.”

  Elsbet’s voice grew soft, finishing in a whisper. This time, the ending of the possession was gentle. Aidane had an instant’s image in her mind of a beautiful, amber-eyed woman in the Aspect of the Lover holding out her hand to Elsbet’s spirit before the two of them walked off along the edge of a gray sea. Then Aidane was fully back in her own body, still wrapped in Kolin’s arms.

  It took a moment for Kolin to realize the shift, and he pulled away awkwardly. “Aidane?” he asked, his voice shaky.

  Aidane took a deep breath. In any transaction, this was the most awkward moment. Beginning the tryst was fueled by anticipation, both the client’s and the possessing spirit’s. That eliminated any awkwardness about disrobing or intimacy. But ending the tryst was inevitably awkward, as Aidane usually found herself naked in a stranger’s bed, and the living lover was forced to deal with the reality that their endearments, anger, or passion had all been aimed at the spirit of their loved one in the body of a whore.

  “If you wouldn’t mind lighting that candle again, I’ll gather my clothes and go.” Aidane had found that a detached professionalism got her and the client through this phase the easiest. She made it a practice to collect her money up front, which had served her well on the nights when the lovers’ reunion was unhappy. Now, she just wanted to minimize her own discomfort and reduce Kolin’s embarrassment.

  “Aidane?” Kolin’s voice was a little stronger. He released her from his embrace and moved back so that their bare skin no longer touched. “I don’t know how to thank you.” In his voice, Aidane heard loss and sorrow, but also a sense of wonder and completion.

  “It was the only way I had to repay you,” Aidane murmured. She felt around for her clothing. Behind her, Kolin moved and then a candle lit, casting its glow over the small room. Kolin was still naked, and only belatedly did it seem to occur to him that Aidane was no longer Elsbet, and then he moved quickly to turn away. Aidane blushed. No matter how long she had been a serroquette and how intimate she and her client had been while the spirit was upon her, the aftermath was always uncomfortable.

  Aidane coped by keeping her eyes averted and turning her back, dressing quickly. Her working outfits were designed not only for their seductive appeal but for the practicality of being easy to take off and quick to put back on. The borrowed clothes from Cefra were more conventional, made of stiffer fabric and more elaborate fastenings. Aidane strained to reach a button and was surprised when Kolin stepped up behind her to fasten it.

  She turned and looked up at him. His face still held a look of pain and confusion, as if he had not yet worked through the abrupt appearance and equally abrupt disappearance of his long-lost lover. “Is it always like this for you?”

  Aidane looked down, and she felt her cheeks flame. When the ghosts possessed her, no discussion or intimacy was off limits. But few clients ever inquired about the private life of their serroquette, and Aidane was sure it was because it made it easier for them to think of her merely as a vessel for the spirits to inhabit. “No, not always,” she said, embarrassed. “Not everyone is happy to see each other again. It’s nice when I can help people who really missed one another.”

  “How much are you aware of?” Kolin’s eyes searched hers.

  “Almost nothing,” Aidane lied. “It’s best that way, for everyone.”

  Something in Kolin’s blue eyes flashed, giving Aidane to know that he understood the fabrication for what it was, and why she told it. He reached out to touch her arm. She looked up at him sharply. “I can’t do this for you again. Elsbet’s gone. I can’t channel anyone once they’ve gone to the Lady.”

  Kolin still looked shaken. He always seemed so self-assured, so completely self-possessed, that it unnerved Aidane to see the naked grief in Kolin’s eyes. I always thought how wonderful it would be to be immortal. To watch the years go by like a play on a stage, to enjoy the best things forever. I never realized there was a cost. Maybe some vayash moru don’t care. Maybe they didn’t care when they were alive. But immortality means outliving everyone you love, over and over again. No wonder they say that the very old ones go mad.

  “I know,” Kolin replied. “I wouldn’t ask that of you. I just want you to know that there isn’t a greater gift in the world than what you gave me, gave us, tonight. And when we get to Dark Haven, I’ll make sure there’s a safe place for you, with Jolie, or with Lady Riqua, or somewhere. I owe you that, at the very least.”

  Aidane managed a smile at his sincerity. She gathered the last of her things. “That’s kind of you. But what I’d really appreciate right now is someone to escort me back to the camp. Elsbet knew the way here, but I don’t think I’ll find my way back in the dark.”

  Kolin shook off enough of his mood to manage a smile. “I believe I can arrange that, m’lady.”

  The camp was quiet when they arrived. Kolin nodded to Aidane in farewell before heading back toward the crypt. It was still long before dawn. Ed the peddler lay wrapped in his cloak, near his pushcart wagon piled high with a jumble of wares and tools. The four minstrels lay not far away, always their own small grouping. Astir and Jolie sat near the fire, talking in quiet tones. Astir’s arm was around Jolie’s waist, and Jolie leaned on his shoulder. They both looked up as Aidane joined them, and Jolie looked questioningly from Aidane back to Kolin, but said nothing. True to her word, Cefra had saved a spot on the pine branches for Aidane. Cefra mumbled in her sleep as Aidane picked her way carefully among the sleeping women and stretched out in exhaustion, wrapping her cloak around her. The nights had grown cold, and the farther north they went toward Dark Haven, the more Aidane was glad for her borrowed cloak.

  Everything I have is borrowed, Aidane thought as she got as comfortable as possible. The pine branches smelled of balsam, as did the smoke from the fire. My clothing, my cloak, even my place with Jolie and her girls, it’s just borrowed. My lovers aren’t my own, and the things they whisper aren’t about me. She remembered the pas
sion Elsbet and Kolin had shared, and sighed. Among the whores she knew well, most doubted that such a thing as true love existed. But as a serroquette, Aidane knew better. Even in the trysts that went wrong, beneath the anger and even the hatred, there was some form of love, even if it was twisted and starved. And there had been enough of the trysts like the one tonight between Elsbet and Kolin to let Aidane know that some lucky few did, indeed, find the kind of love that the minstrels honored in their songs. She squeezed back tears. Usually, she was good at not crying. But tonight, alone among strangers, far from home and cold, Aidane wept silently until she fell asleep.

  Aidane was so tired, she almost did not hear the ghost’s call. Please, please, wake up. Wake up.

  Aidane woke groggily and sat up, drawing her cloak around her. It was late enough that Astir had gone and Jolie had taken her place near the fire, asleep. The ghost of a woman sat just beyond where the pine branches made a bed. The woman had long, straight hair that was as black as the night around her. Her skin was dark, and Aidane guessed that the ghost was Eastmark-born. She had dark eyes and features that would have been considered exotic in Dhasson or Margolan, high, angular cheekbones, a faintly almond shape to her eyes, and a narrow, thin nose. She was dressed in an expensive but provocative gown. Its fabric was rich brocade, and it glistened with pearls and gemstones sewn into the bodice. The neckline was scandalously low, revealing the curve of ample breasts, barely hiding the darker ring surrounding the nipples. Too daring for a noble woman. Too rich for a whore, Aidane thought. Then she noticed one more thing. Even for a ghost, the woman was ashen. Not just a spirit. The ghost of a vayash moru.

 

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