Shrouded Sky (The Veils of Lore Book 1)

by A. Akers, Tracy

  Orryn felt Chandra move in his arms. She opened her eyes and drew a sharp breath.

  “That’s Syddia?” she asked, straightening.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  Chandra craned her neck, looking amongst the men.

  “He’s still with us, if that’s what you’re wondering,” Orryn said. “I assume you’re looking for Tygg.”

  “Well I wasn’t looking for Pey,” Chandra said. “So where are you planning to take me? You said I was staying with you until you got some kind of release.”

  “I’ll take you to my home.”

  “Don’t you live in barracks?”

  “No.”

  “Well it doesn’t matter anyway,” Chandra said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You’ll probably turn me over the first chance you get.”

  Orryn grunted. “Why don’t I just turn you over now?”

  “Fine,” Chandra said. She glanced around at the guards riding near. “How about to that guy? He looks good.”

  The soldier swiveled his eyes in her direction and grinned.

  “Have you lost your senses, girl?” Orryn hissed into her ear. “These men have not taken the same vows I have.”

  “At least I’d know what to expect from them.”

  “Do you hate me so much?” he asked.

  “You’ve asked me that question before. And right now the answer is yes.”

  Orryn felt frustration threaten to override his good sense. “Very well,” he said. “I shall have the men draw straws for you.”

  “Fine,” Chandra retorted.

  They reached the city after passing through the gates of two more protective walls. Chandra had slept through the first one, but the following two immediately grabbed her attention. It was strange, Orryn thought, how Imelas were always so fascinated by the walls. Typically their first comment upon seeing them was the massive size of the blocks. Never had they seen anything so big, they would say. Of course when they reached the city itself all thoughts in regard to the walls evaporated. The architectural structures that wound upward from the base of the mountain and through the city of Syddia were far grander.

  The city itself began to rise around them, its towers so tall they vanished into the sky. Here and there cressets glowed, casting light upon the cobbled streets but little else. Few lived in this part of the city, other than the rugged members of the Shield, with their barracks and liveries and weapons arsenals, and the smiths who tamed and molded the metals required to keep the men in their game. Orryn was grateful to not have been chosen for the Shield. As a Pedant, hand-picked by the Sovereign herself, he was able to wield brain as well as brawn, and though Pedants were well capable of holding their own in a fight, it was their intelligence and lack of base emotions that truly set them apart.

  Pey motioned the men down a dark narrow corridor. It led to the catacombs, a miserable place where no one, not even a Pedant, wanted to go. Here was where the ancients were buried, crumbling bodies tucked within the rocks attested to it, but living prisoners were kept here also, secured behind locked doors, their only source of light and nourishment that which was given to them at the whim of the guards.

  The horses entered a courtyard lit by torches and stopped. The men began to dismount.

  “Take the Taubastet inside,” Pey ordered.

  One of the men took out his knife and cut Tygg’s bindings from the saddle, then yanked him from the horse and threw him to the ground. Tygg staggered up and was shoved toward a wooden door set in a wall of dark stone. A second guard grabbed a nearby torch from its bracket. He dragged open the door. “In with you,” he growled.

  Tygg turned his head to Orryn. “The debt is paid,” he called, and was pushed inside.

  Chandra struggled to escape the horse, but Orryn grabbed her by the back of her tunic and jerked her toward him.

  “Let me go,” she cried. “Tygg!”

  “There’s nothing you can do for him,” Orryn said, tightening his hold.

  “No!” She slammed her elbow into his ribs as she swung her leg over the horse’s neck and leapt clumsily to the ground. She limped in the direction of the door that Tygg had disappeared through, but Orryn quickly dismounted and caught hold of her. He spun her around by the arm to face him. “Do you wish me to throttle you,” he said between his teeth.

  “Go ahead!” Chandra shot back. “I dare you.”

  The men, now gathering to watch, began to laugh. “A real wildcat, eh?” one of them said.

  “I’ve always wanted me a taste of cat,” another added.

  Some of the men stepped closer, their expressions ominous in the shadowy light of the courtyard.

  “Enough!” Orryn barked at them. “She is not for you.”

  Pey shouldered his way between the men, then stopped in front of Orryn. “She’s not for you, either,” he said. “But then again, no woman is.” He laughed.

  “Let me go!” Chandra writhed from Orryn grip and spun to face Pey. “There is no reason for you to arrest Tygg.”

  Pey’s eyes narrowed. “Tell me, kittling,” he said. “How would a Taubastet know our laws?”

  “I’m not Taubastet,” Chandra said boldly.

  Pey swiveled his attention to Orryn. “Does she speak true?” he demanded.

  “You would believe the word of a Bast?” Orryn said in defense. “Has our Lady taught you nothing of their trickery?”

  “I don’t think it is I who have an issue with trickery, Orryn,” Pey said. “If anyone has been fooled, it is you.”

  Orryn squared his shoulders. “She’s cat. And if you think I, even in my current condition, would take pity on her—”

  “Then show none,” Pey said. He turned his eyes to the Imela. “If you’re not Taubastet,” he said to her, “why do you defend the one called Tygg?”

  “Because he hasn’t done anything wrong,” she answered.

  “Hasn’t he?” Pey looked at his men. “Do the Taubastets not ambush us in the night and slit our throats?”

  “Aye!” the men shouted.

  “Do they not rape our women and steal our children?”

  The men began to voice their agreement, but before their words could swell in unison, Chandra shouted, “That’s a lie!”

  Pey turned to her. “So you defend them,” he said. “I believe that answers the question of your lineage.”

  “As I said,” Orryn remarked.

  “But the question still remains,” Pey said smugly. “What will the Pedant do with you now that he has you?” He snorted with disgust. “Don’t worry, kittling. In his current condition, I doubt Orryn can keep you in his sights long enough to lay a hand on you, much less anything else.”

  Chandra wheeled toward the door, but Orryn grabbed her arm. He glared at Pey. “You think I’m incapable?” he said. He threw her over his shoulder and marched toward the catacombs. Chandra kicked and beat her fists against him, but it did no good. Orryn had her firmly in his grasp.

  The men laughed. “Don’t worry, girl,” one of them shouted. “It won’t last long.” The others roared.

  Orryn shoved aside a guard who was standing in front of the door and yanked it open. He stormed in, slamming the door behind them, and marched further into the corridor, looking for an unoccupied cell.

  Chandra wiggled from his hold and shoved him against a wall, then swung in the opposite direction. A guard posted inside the main door watched with amusement, but did not assist. Clearly he was curious as to what a Pedant breaking his vows would do with a Taubastet female. It would certainly be a first.

  Orryn snagged Chandra by the back of her tunic and threw her to the ground. “You want this,” he said.

  “I don’t!” she shouted.

  “All the better,” he said. He grabbed her by the hair and dragged her along the ground.

  “Let me go!” she screamed.

  “When I’m done with you,” he said. He snatched a torch from a nearby bracket and tossed her into a cell, where she rolled ac
ross the floor. Orryn slammed the door closed behind them.

  “Don’t touch me,” Chandra cried, scrabbling out of reach.

  Orryn stepped toward her. “Scream like I’m hurting you,” he said, but his tone was that of a man trying to help her, not harm her.

  Chandra clutched her aching ribs. “What?”

  Orryn glanced toward the door. “I’m assaulting you, girl. Act like it,” he said.

  “I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction!”

  Orryn sighed with exasperation. “Listen, I have no personal experience with these kinds of assaults, but if you’d continue to at least act like you’re fighting me, it would greatly help our situation.”

  Chandra pushed up along the wall at her back. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “What I’m talking about is I’m in no condition to make rational decisions, but I need to at least prove I can control you, no matter the means.”

  “So you don’t have any interest in actually doing it,” Chandra said, piecing it together, “but I’m supposed to act like you do.”

  “Precisely. Pey and his men will be disappointed if I don’t. And right now I’m not in a position to disappoint them.” He reached down and scooped up a handful of dirt. It was damp and smelled foul, traces of the cell’s previous occupants. “I must dirty your face,” he said, stepping toward her.

  Chandra looked at the dirt in his hand and frowned. “Wouldn’t you rather just hit me?”

  “Yes.”

  Orryn lifted his hand to smear it, but Chandra grabbed his arm and stopped him. “How do you plan to help Tygg?”

  “I don’t know, but we don’t have time to discuss it. That guard’s curiosity may get the better of him, and believe me, in matters such as this it very likely will.”

  Chandra nodded and let go her hold. He smeared the dirt along her cheek and down her throat.

  “Get off me, you bastard!” she cried, and smacked him across the face.

  CHAPTER 16

  The cell Tygg had been thrown into was as dark as death, and he could not help but feel the inevitability of its cruel hand upon his shoulder. Although he’d worked to prepare himself for what was to come, the fear that currently had him by the throat was something he had not expected. He’d known fear before, had known it many times, but never had he felt as vulnerable as he did now. In the blistered, dark womb of Syddia, there was little hope for him, and even less for his Qwa t’sei.

  He crawled to his feet and felt his way to the nearest wall. His hands were bound in front of him, something in his favor at least. He turned toward the center of the room and blinked to focus his eyes. There was no hint of shadow or shape in the place, nothing to identify who else, or what else, might be in the cell. Only the solitary laboring of his lungs told him he was probably alone.

  The stench that surrounded him was a mixture of blood and urine and decay. Tygg leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes, knowing it signaled what awaited him. The guards would soon enter the cell, and with them would come fire and blades and torture tools. Would he plead for mercy? Would he scream? He’d heard tales of what Shield men were capable of, and he did not know if courage would be within his power or out of it.

  He forced it from his thoughts, determined to think of something other than the pain he knew was coming. The sky, the mountains, his daughter . . . anything but suffering and death. But he pushed Panya from his mind. He refused to bring the memory of her into this foul place. Nauney, then. She was the reason he was here, the reason he deserved to be here.

  Nauney’s face swam into view, her visage so real Tygg was certain he must be dreaming it. Surely she was in the light of the After, he reasoned, not the inky darkness of the catacombs. But then she looked into his eyes, or so it seemed to him, and her lips began to move as if speaking to him.

  Tygg heard nothing beyond his own thundering heart and wished more than anything he could hear her voice, the words she spoke. Perhaps the gods had sent her with a message of hope. If only he could hear it! He stepped toward her and reached out his hands, to see if he could touch her, to see if she were real. But as his fingertip brushed her cheek she disappeared into a wisp of vapor.

  Tygg’s eyes searched the darkness. “Please, Nauney,” he whispered. “Stay with me, until this is done.” But she did not return.

  Despair obliterated what little hope he had left. What chance did he have locked in this cell? He would die a painful death here and he knew it. His hands gravitated to the leaf tucked in the waistband of his leathers. Was it not better to die a quick death than a slow one?

  Suddenly he heard a scream from down the corridor. A scream of terror. A scream of pain.

  Chandra!

  He rushed to the door and threw himself against it. Why was she here? What were they doing to her? Tygg pounded against the wood and clawed for the handle, but it was no use. It was as if he had been buried alive.

  He heard her cry out again.

  “Chandra!” he shouted. By the gods, where was Orryn? Why wasn’t he protecting her?

  Fear spread through Tygg like wildfire, and in that instant he wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms, to protect her from harm, to protect her from the world.

  “Syddian filth!” he spat. “I shall have your heads on pikes!”

  Laughter wafted from down the corridor. A man’s laughter, followed by Chandra weeping, begging.

  Tygg threw himself against the door over and over. How could the gods allow this to happen? Surely they could not be so cruel! He stopped and pressed his ear to the wood, listening for any sign of Chandra’s voice, but there was nothing.

  He fell to his knees, frustration overtaking his ability to think. The Cloud Walker had said the Imela was but a means to an end, a reason to get him into Syddia. But Tygg knew, in this last desperate hour, she was so much more than that. She was Chandra. And he had failed her as surely as he had failed Nauney. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

  But he knew he was not deserving of it.

  ~~~

  Orryn shoved Chandra through the door of the catacombs and back into the courtyard. Most of the men were still there, including Pey.

  “Now you all have something to talk about,” Orryn said, hoisting her under his arm.

  “The conversation will be as brief as your time with her,” Pey said. The men around him laughed.

  “Perhaps it will be longer when you speak of it to our Lady,” Orryn snapped. He moved toward his horse, Chandra trapped against him. He threw her onto the horse’s back, where she hid her face and sobbed into her hands.

  “You’ve broken your oath, yet you’re not concerned that the Sovereign will soon know of it?” Pey asked suspiciously.

  “Would it matter?” Orryn said, taking his place behind her.

  “Not to me,” Pey replied.

  “Then why concern yourself with it?” Orryn grabbed the reins and steered the horse toward the alley leading out. “Don’t forget the release,” he called back over his shoulder. “I’m very nearly done with her.”

  ~~~

  Gruff voices sounded in the corridor, drawing nearer to the cell. Tygg rose and stepped back just as the door opened and slammed against the wall.

  A group of guards silhouetted by torchlight entered the cell, followed by Pey.

  “What did you do to the Imela?” Tygg demanded. He stepped threateningly toward Pey, but the guards grabbed hold of him.

  “I don’t think you are in a position to ask questions, cat,” Pey said.

  “I swear, if you harmed her . . .”

  Pey laughed cruelly. “I didn’t touch the girl. It was Orryn who had his way with her in the cell.”

  “You lie,” Tygg said.

  “Do I?”

  “He is incapable of such an act!” Tygg insisted. “It goes against his oath.”

  “Oaths can be broken. And so can cats.” Pey jerked his head toward the guards holding Tygg in place.

  Tygg was dragged into the corrid
or and toward another cell. Beyond its door was a black cresset filled with glowing hot coals, and a rack lined with cruel-looking devices.

  Tygg was shoved inside and held in place as a hook was cranked down from the ceiling. A guard grabbed his wrists and forced the bindings over it, while Tygg’s tunic was slashed and ripped from his back.

  “Any last words?” Pey asked, stepping toward the rack. “A confession perhaps?” He selected a long metal brand and shoved it into the coals.

  The ropes at Tygg’s wrists tightened as he was hoisted from the ground. He closed his eyes. “May the gods have mercy on me,” he said.

  Pey pulled out the glowing iron and turned to face him. “I assure you, cat. There are no gods here.”

  CHAPTER 17

  Chandra sat stiff in the saddle, brushing back tears that had started as a performance but had quickly become real.

  “I’m sorry if I harmed you,” Orryn said.

  “An apology?” Chandra scoffed. “Don’t strain yourself.”

  “How does your leg fare, and your ribs?”

  “How do they fare? Bad. How’s that for an answer?”

  “I’ll see you are soon tended,” Orryn said.

  Chandra noticed the streets were beginning to brighten with torch light. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m taking you to my father’s estate, my home,” he replied, but there was an edge to his voice.

  Chandra surveyed the buildings on either side of the street where Orryn steered the horse. They looked nothing like those they had recently left. Here the buildings were not dark but rose-colored, their granite pillars formed from the same pastel stone. Leaded glass shimmered with the lamplight of the rooms behind them, while lanterns illuminated vast porticos. Here and there fountains gurgled with turquoise waters, some flanked by life-size statues, others by floral arrangements displayed in elaborate potteries. The air was cool and crisp and filled with the sweet scent of botanicals, such contrast to the stench of the corridor they had left behind.

  Chandra glanced around her. The wide, cobbled streets seemed strangely empty.

  “Where is everyone?” she asked.