Wildling

by Curtis, Greg

  They had started fires across the city, trying to burn the demons out of their minds. They had attacked people and had had to be restrained by the city guards. Many had been embarrassed by the priests, not least because most of them were wearing nothing more than whatever they slept him. And some apparently didn’t wear any clothes to bed. The city's markets had had to be closed as the Dicans rushed around knocking over stalls and tents and attacking people at random. Court had had to be stopped for much the same reason. And much of the city had fallen into panic as people saw them and didn't know what to do.

  There had been injuries and some deaths. Some because the crazed priests had jumped off buildings. Some because they had started fires that had burnt out of control. Some because the priests had attacked them and though most were unarmed they were still savage. Fear had leant them surprising strength.

  The city guard had spent the entire day running around Lampton Heights chasing them down and locking them up. And in all the confusion someone had burnt their huge pyramid temple down. The smoke from that fire had spread like a blanket across the entire city.

  By the time the speaker and his family had left the city that evening most of the crazed priests were locked away. A few were still causing havoc. Some were on the rooftops still screaming. Most were calming down slowly, though their screams could still be heard across the city.

  What would come of this the priest didn't know. But he knew that with the temple burnt to the ground and maybe as many as two hundred and fifty priests driven out of their minds with fear, the church had had its nose well and truly bloodied.

  He also thought that few if any of those priests would be returning to their faith. Why would they? Their service was based on fear. The one thing, the only thing that Dica promised them, was that they would never have to be frightened again. Just so long as they killed and tortured Dica's enemies, burned the temples of the other gods and brought fear to everyone else that was. Now that promise had been broken. Dica had failed them. The priests' faith would be shattered.

  Recruitment would be hurt as well, and the Dicans were always looking for more believers; cowards to join them and do anything they wanted in order to feel safe. But they had been publicly shown to be weak. To be unable to protect their own.

  And then there was the position of the church within the realm. Undoubtedly its position had been shaken. The balance of power would shift back a little to the courts and the nobility.

  This had been a very bad day for them.

  The hope was that that would end the war with the dusky elves. That the Dicans would be forced to retreat as they regrouped and tried to find out what had happened. That they would fear that they had enemies closer to home and couldn't afford to have their forces too far away. And when exactly the same thing was hopefully happening in the Kingdom of Yed, that was Sena's hope too.

  But those who carried out the attacks had to be taken to safety. The Dicans might not have the services of hounds and other wildlings, but they could still find witnesses and torture information from anyone who might know anything. And they would. The Temple of Justice needed to make sure that the Dicans never suspected their hand had been involved. It wasn't that they feared the reaction. The Dicans were going to try to kill them all anyway. It was that an unknown enemy was always more frightening than a known one, and they wanted the Dicans to be frightened. Never knowing who had attacked them, or where to look for the next threat. That more than anything else would weaken them.

  And strangely Sena realised, Dorn had started that fear in them. Teaching them that the wastes were frightening places. Sending their priests home one after another in complete terror, many of them grievously injured. Bearing the marks on their faces that had shocked their brethren. Those marks had stood testament to the fact that the Dicans weren't safe from attack.

  Now, once the priests recovered from the days’ activities, she thought it likely that the church would assume that something from the wastes had followed them home. Something so terrible that they couldn't face it. The same thing that had torn their brothers apart.

  Maybe the speaker had been right she decided. Maybe, despite his childish fits of temper and his unseemly violence, Dorn had actually been guided by something of the divine. In the wake of the return of the ancient high priests anything was possible. She knew that her brother and the Lady Sylfene suspected it.

  But even if they were right surely it couldn’t be that Xeria was the one guiding him? The Lady and her brother had to be wrong on that matter. The Mother was no war goddess.

  Chapter Twenty Eight.

  Lissa worked her way around the great hall as she went about her cleaning, scrubbing the marble tiled floor with a brush, a pail of hot water and a bar of lye soap. It wasn't her favourite duty. The soap was harsh on her hands and her knees always ached after a few hours of kneeling on the cold stone floor. But it had to be done and as the most junior maid it was usually the task given to her.

  This day however, it was a duty she was actually grateful for. The Lord was in his meeting chamber just off to the side of the great hall, speaking with his visitor and she was eager to hear what was being said. She always enjoyed listening to him when he had someone to yell at. And he was going to yell. Though it was probably wrong, he made her laugh. Lord Indiri was old and temperamental. He had an irascible nature and was quick to snap. But sometimes he could be kind, almost fatherly and he was never unfair. He also had a wicked tongue.

  It wasn't hard to hear him. Lord Indiri was in one of his tempers, screaming and yelling at his visitor like a petulant child. The Lord had to be eighty yet he acted like a small boy whenever things went wrong.

  Of course in the last few days everything had gone wrong. For him, for the city and for the realm. The attack on the Dican temple had turned the world upside down. People were confused and frightened. They didn't know what to expect. No one liked the Dicans of course. They were always creating trouble and threatening people with terrible punishments for the most minor of crimes. Often for no crime at all save that of being born. But still they brought a form of order to the land. Stability. People knew what to expect of them. But no longer.

  The temple was burnt, the priests had gone mad. Many had died. Many more had run away. And the soldiers didn't seem to know who to obey or what to do. Should they obey the Dicans who seemed to want to hunt down and kill anyone and everyone they could think of on the off chance that they might possibly have been involved in the attack? Or the nobles who were ordering them to guard their houses and castles and keep order?

  For the first time in two decades there was a very clear schism between the church and the nobility. And she didn't have to look far to see it. It was there in the faces of the soldiers guarding the chamber as the lord screamed and yelled at his visitors. They were frightened. They didn't know what to do if things came to violence. Who they should protect.

  Should it be Lord Indiri or the High Priest? The former paid them their wages and gave them their orders. The latter was the most powerful member of the church that ruled their lives and who would butcher them and their families if they opposed him. If it came to a battle the soldiers would be torn. But in the end she suspected it would be the high priest that would win them over, much as she would have wanted them to defend the lord. They would let fear rule them.

  “No!”

  Lord Indiri screamed suddenly, his strident voice echoing through the entire great hall and probably most of the castle. It was followed by the sound of something breaking. Glass. No doubt he'd thrown something against a wall. He was prone to doing that. And soon she knew, it would be her job to clean up the mess.

  “You can't have a single soldier more! Not another gold piece! Not even a copper!”

  “Come now Lord Indiri. What I'm asking for is only right.”

  The high priest was smooth she thought. His voice always calm and controlled, his words considered. He sounded so reasonable. And yet every insidious word out of his mouth
sent shivers of fear and revulsion through her. It wasn't just the terrible things he had done – that he still did. It was what he was. There was something wrong with him. Corrupt. Every word he uttered was a lie. This was one day when she was glad that she was just a maid. Forever beneath his notice.

  “We are at war. These demons have attacked us. Struck at the heart of our people. And they will strike again if we do not stop them.”

  “You mean they struck at you! And you were found wanting!”

  Lord Indiri wasn't calming down. In fact Lissa thought he might be getting angrier. And that she thought as she scrubbed harder at a particularly tough boot smudge on the tiles, was not wise. She didn't know much about the high priest save that he scared her, but everyone knew he was dangerous.

  “They struck at us first!”

  The high priest put all his emphasis on the last word, trying to pretend that it was everyone who was endangered. But he should have known that would never work. Lord Indiri might act like a child from time to time, but he was not as easily lied to as one.

  “They struck at you only. Wildlings may not like us but in the end it's you who’s their enemy. It's you that they hate. And it's you that they will burn. Your church is finished High Priest. They are going to pay you back for your evil, and there won't be a single Dican left in a year. And I will not let a single man of mine die with you. You will all go to the underworld by yourselves!”

  “Lord Indiri -.”

  The high priest tried to sound conciliatory but he shouldn't have bothered. The Lord was in no mood for such things.

  “Out!” Lord Indiri screamed at the high priest, his voice even louder and shriller than before. “Get your cursed black robed arse out of my home and off my lands!”

  The meeting was over Lissa gathered, and she smiled a little at the thought. Finally someone was standing up to the Dicans even if it was an old man throwing a tantrum.

  “Really. There's no call for rudeness.”

  Something changed in the high priest's voice, and Lissa instantly knew it was bad. Very bad. She looked up from the floor to the arched doorway ahead leading to the Lord's chamber and knew something was very wrong. And then it got dark. It was day time and the windows were all open to let in some fresh air, the sunlight was streaming in as well. And yet up ahead at the doorway she could see a shadow, a globe of darkness, slowly growing out of it. The sight terrified her.

  “Guards!”

  Lord Indiri let out a scream and immediately the two guards standing outside the doorway rushed in. A heartbeat later there was a snapping sound and their broken bodies flew backwards out of the chamber as fast as an arrow. They crossed the great hall in front of her without ever touching the ground before hitting the far wall with a sickening thud and then falling lifeless to the floor.

  Lissa shrieked a little. She couldn't help herself. But then knowing she was in danger she somehow cut most of her cry off. Whatever was happening in the lord's chamber, she could do nothing about it. The only thing she could do was save herself. She could run.

  Lissa got to her feet and ran as fast as she could, frightened that at any moment whatever the high priest had done to the guards he would do to her, while behind her the sounds of whatever was happening in Lord Indiri's chamber grew louder. It was like thunder echoing through the entire castle.

  Then the lightning struck. She heard it crack and pop behind her. She heard the lord scream one last time, and knew in that instant that he was dead. No one let out a scream like that and lived. And she knew sorrow for his passing. But there was nothing she could do except run.

  She was lucky. As she ran out of the great hall an entire troop of guards came rushing in swords already drawn, and she knew they would keep the high priest away from her for a moment. Long enough she hoped, to get away.

  Or maybe not.

  Even as she made the stairs leading out to the courtyard she heard the thunder roar once more. The lightning flashed behind her, and she knew that those guards had likely fared no better than the two who had been guarding the door. And when she heard them screaming and the sound of their armour clad bodies smashing into walls Lissa knew there was no time.

  So she sprinted across the courtyard as fast as she could while behind her the sounds of battle raged. More soldiers were rushing into the hall while she ran for her life to the gate.

  She made it somehow, and instantly disappeared into the safety of the city streets. There she knew the high priest would not catch her. He would not be able to find her among the crowds. Which was fortunate because she was out of breath. It was all she could do to walk on shaking legs into their midst when all she wanted to do was fall down panting. But if she did that the high priest would catch her. She knew that. So instead she walked. Down the cobbled streets, turning right and left as she tried desperately to put Castle Indiri far behind her. Soon she found herself on the other side of the city.

  Several hours later she was nearing the city gates when she heard the town criers start calling out the news. Lord Indiri was dead and he had been killed by a wildling. The church of Dica was now raising an army to battle the demons. It was then that she knew she had to leave. That she could never return. She was a witness to the crime and the Dicans would never let her live. There was no safety for her in Lampton Heights. There was no safety for anyone.

  In time she guessed, the Dicans would have their army. A few more attacks like this one and the nobles would all give the church everything they asked for. Either because they believed that the wildlings had started attacking them, or because they knew it was the Dicans who had done it but were too frightened to resist. The High Priest had won.

  For her though it was time to leave. To head for Alador where her sister worked as a shopkeeper's assistant. There she could find shelter and food and most important of all, safety. It was a long journey, and dangerous in parts. She had no coin, no transport, no food and only the clothes on her back. But it was still the best hope she had.

  But as she set off on her journey one thing did occur to her. A question. Actually a whole lot of questions. The Dicans hated the wildlings. They feared them and hunted them. They said they were demons. That their magic came from the underworld. Yet their High Priest was obviously a wildling himself. He had powerful magic of some sort.

  Was there no end to the lies they told? Were the wildlings really the demons the Dicans claimed they were? Had the black priests truly had nothing to do with the murders of the priests of Lue and the burnings of their temples? Who truly ran Lampton Heights? And why did they need an army?

  But she knew that no one would ever tell her the answers. If she was lucky she would live long enough that she didn't care. And maybe someone would eventually kill that black High Priest. He needed to die.

  Chapter Twenty Nine.

  “Wake up laggard!”

  Sena called to him from the forest as she and the others approached the fort and Dorn groaned quietly to himself. Why did it have to be her? Why always her? Couldn't these annoying wayfarers or sun elves or whatever they called themselves send someone else to annoy him? And why was she smiling as if they were old friends greeting one another? They weren't. Were they?

  Still he recognised Emmaline riding just behind her and that had to be a good thing. He liked the spellsword. He liked her directness and the fact that she understood that sometimes difficult things had to be done unlike the wayfarers. And he especially liked the fact that with her there it would be a foolish force that attacked the fort.

  He shifted into his human form to speak to them. “I wasn't asleep.”

  And he hadn't been. He'd seen them coming from the battlements, always alert for visitors ever since the war had come to the wastes. But he had been enjoying the sunshine, perhaps a little more than he should so he hadn't really paid them any attention. It was summer and a cat was supposed to be able to slumber a little in the warm sun. Besides, Sena had been right about one thing; the soldiers had gone. The Dicans and the elve
s both. Wherever they were, whoever they fought, they weren't anywhere near Little Rock.

  “Liar!” She laughed gently at him adding to the strange feeling he had that she thought they were friends for some reason. But he'd probably said enough mean things to her for a while, so he decided not to add to them by mentioning it. Instead he studied the group and wondered if there was something she wasn't telling him.

  Sena and her brother Eris were leading them, perhaps because they'd been there before and knew the way. Perhaps because they knew him. Emmaline and another man – some sort of fighter he thought, judging by his physical presence and the way his eyes suspiciously searched the fort hunting for enemies – rode to their sides and slightly behind them. Escorting them perhaps. Or more likely acting as their bodyguards.

  Behind them rode the four scholars. Or at least he assumed that that was what they were supposed to be. They weren't armed at least and they didn't have the wary look of those accustomed to danger. Yet they didn't look like scholars. They weren't dressed like them either.

  “These are your scholars?”

  Actually they looked like priests, though thankfully not the accursed Dicans. Their robes weren't black and they didn't wear their hoods up over their heads so as to bathe their faces in shadow. Also, one of the so called scholars was a wayfarer, though not dressed as one. Seeing that Dorn breathed a sigh of relief. He'd never heard of a wayfarer among the Dicans.

  “As promised.”

  Why wouldn't she stop smiling he wondered? It seemed wrong. Though she was, he had to admit, a pretty woman and it was a sunny afternoon. The sort of afternoon where a pretty woman should smile.

  There was another oddity with the party's arrival he belatedly realised. It had been only two and a half weeks since Sena had accosted him in the alehouse. And though at least she hadn't returned in the wayfarer's traditional slow moving cart but instead was riding, she had still somehow covered the journey to Balen Rale and back in what seemed too short a time. It should have taken two and a half weeks simply for her to get there even on horseback. In a wagon it should have taken a month. The land was simply too rough and the forests too thick to go any faster. But as the party reached the gate and dismounted he decided that that was something he could ask about later. As usual he was naked. It wasn't really the best way to greet guests.