Scion’s Sacrifice

by R. Michael Card

  He still had some energy for he grunted and said, “I’ll find some game. I’ll be back in a bit.”

  She felt him go more than saw it. They weren’t connected now like they’d been in the past. Their intense link, which they’d experienced those first few days after the teleportation, had dwindled. Physical contact was necessary for the soul cleansing, but after a few days the connection had almost completely dissipated. Some element remained. Perhaps it was a side effect of all of the work she’d been doing in his soul, or perhaps the teleportation link was something that never fully went away. Yet she could still sense him when he was near. Without looking, she’d know exactly where he was. There were also times of truly intense emotion or thought, which might still travel between them.

  As she lay there on the warm earth, gazing up at a pure sky, she spoke to Ehlani, her Goddess.

  “Did you mean for this to happen, Lady of Peace? Is this your plan for me? To be connected to this man?”

  She let out a long sigh.

  Would it be the worst thing, staying so intimately connected with one so dark and broken? Perhaps not. It was the way of her Goddess to love and tend to all beings and truly Cassine was one who followed that doctrine. She loved Davar… in the way her Goddess bid her to love and feel compassion for all things. It wasn’t easy and she wondered if she’d be able to maintain that empathy for days or weeks, even months of delving into such a black soul.

  She had to have faith in her Goddess that this was for some greater purpose, but… faith didn’t always come easy. Doubts were beginning to cloud the edges of her being. Perhaps it was all the work she was doing in such a dark place which caused her to lose faith. It certainly wasn’t easy to get the oily feeling of his soul off of her when she finished. She constantly felt dirty, stained, even if she bathed. She honestly couldn’t imagine how he must feel.

  And yet he’d offered to get her food just now. Was that a sign of him changing?

  Perhaps.

  She was somewhat recovered from her exhaustion and melancholy when he returned with several small animals in his bare hands.

  He skinned and cleaned them wordlessly, but as he was spitting the first to place it over their fire, he looked at her.

  “It makes little difference to me,” he said, “but if you’d like to be doing this somewhere else, we could.” There was something in his gaze, a certain hunger in his eyes. Perhaps he sensed it, for a moment later he turned away. “We could find a town or something. Stay there for a while.”

  He placed the rabbit he’d spitted over the fire.

  Light was fading from the day, but this high up Cassine could still see for some distance. She wondered how her sisters were doing back at St. Antin Abbey. Again, she wondered if this was where she was most needed. There would be legions of wounded back at the abbey.

  But Davar had asked her something and she should respond. Did she want a town, a bed? It would be lovely, but she didn’t need it. Though eventually summer would fade and the chill of the nights up in these mountains would grow colder still. Perhaps it would be best to go some place where they could spend the winter. If they weren’t going to return to the abbey, then any town would do.

  She caught his eye. “Yes, I think a town would be nice, thank you for offering.”

  He gave a fleeting smile, then shook his head and turned away.

  After they’d eaten, they did another healing session, then collapsed into an exhausted sleep.

  The next day they headed east. Travel was hampered by her healing sessions, which required both of them to be strong and calm and ready. So he carried her, running and bounding over the countryside for part of the day, then they would do a session of healing, then rest.

  Even carrying her, Davar could move with incredible speed. One leap from his earth talent-strengthened legs, and using his wind-talent to carry them along through the air, took them over miles of land. They were down out of the mountains and foothills after two days. After that, they moved through thick woodlands for another couple of days.

  Cassine reveled in the scent of the pines and cedars around them. Davar said they were passing the western border of Vehndora, a kingdom far to the south and west of Hallania. The end of their second day traveling through the forest brought them close to a small village.

  Cassine watched the smoke curling up from a large building near the center of town, most likely a common house. Yes, this had been a good idea. She turned to Davar. “Let me down please, I can walk from here.” He did so. She laid a hand on his arm, feeling the great round muscle beneath the sleeve of his shirt. “Thank you,” she said with a soft smile. “A hot bath and warm bed will do us both good.”

  He gave a faint nod and a soft grunt of acknowledgment.

  Soon enough they were down on the muddy road of the small village and at the common house.

  Cassine opened the door to a waft of air thick with smoke and smelling of stew and sweat and dirt. It wasn’t a grand establishment, but the flushed and rotund matron who greeted them was friendly enough.

  “Greetings my lord and lady, shall I send someone to tend your horses?”

  Cassine smiled. “We have no horses.”

  “Oh, well then you must be tired from a long walk. Shall I ready a room?”

  “One with two beds please, and a bath and some food,” Cassine added.

  The matron bobbed a curtsey and hurried off as they sat at one end of a long trestle table close to a glowing brazier. There were three more long tables in the room, another on this side and two on the far side, one of which had a few men drinking and laughing loudly. A great hearth dominated the wall opposite the door. Over its flames and embers roasted a small pig. Several cauldrons and pots bubbled three as well. The matron bustled around the hearth tending the food aided by a young wisp of a woman, probably her daughter.

  Cassine let out a long sigh and with it slipped away tensions of which she’d not been aware. It was pleasant to be back indoors with the scent of food other than small game. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed this.

  She looked to Davar who took in everything in the room. Finally, he too seemed to settle, though he did keep an eye on the other men in the room. She could see something different in him now. She couldn’t identify the change exactly for a moment, but then she realized what it was and it shocked her. The way he sat, how he’d positioned his body… it was that of a protector. She couldn’t be sure what he was thinking, whether this was a friendly concern for her well-being, or a miser clutching at what he thought was his. Either way he was showing concern for someone other than himself. That seemed like progress.

  One of the men at the other table called out for more ale. The matron’s daughter drew a large pitcher from one of many kegs in the corner and deposited it on the table with the laughing men. A man grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. The girl let out a short yelp of surprise.

  “Common girlie, you’ll give Jato a good time, won’t ye?” The man clutched at one of her breasts.

  “Please, sir, I don’t want trouble.” The girl tried to get away from him, but he was a burly man and more than strong enough to keep her where she was.

  The matron of the house was already hurrying over to the men. “Now please good sirs, let my poor daughter go. She’s too young for your tastes, I’m sure.”

  “Oh she’s ripe enough,” the one holding her said, emphasizing his point by patting her breast. He then leaned in and pressed his face into her hair. “And she smells a darn sight better than any whore I’ve had in ages!”

  Cassine rose sharply. This had gone far enough. She felt a swell of her fire talent, but stopped uncertain. She wasn’t a warrior. She’d never used her magic to harm before and she didn’t know how. Yet she couldn’t let this continue. She glanced at Davar, but he stared at the conflict across the room unmoving, unmoved. Could she ask him to step in? Should she?

  Gods she had to do something but didn’t know what.

  “Better take her qu
ick, Jato,” one of the other men at that table called out, “before she turns to fat like her mum!”

  They all roared with laughter and downed more ale.

  “Now you see here…” the matron blustered but stopped as Jato drew out a long curved knife.

  “No you see, mum. Me and me boys here is gonna have ourselves some fun.” He pressed the knife to the girl’s throat, tilting her head back. Tears streamed down her cheeks. Jato took out a small purse with his free hand and plopped it on the table. “But we’ll pay handsomely for her and the ale so why don’t you run off while we go find a room.” The matron backed away slowly, then turned and hurried off, hopefully to get someone to help. The men at the table all rose. Jato kept a firm hold on the girl and the knife as they made their way toward the stairs at the back of the room.

  Cassine took two steps toward them but felt a strong hand on her shoulder.

  “Allow me,” Davar said passing her, his tone lethal.

  Gods, this wasn’t going to end well. “Don’t’ kill them, just stop them,” she said softly, not wanting to alert the men.

  But the others must have sensed trouble, which wasn’t that difficult. Davar was trouble — over six feet of thick muscle. However one of the men in the group was even larger than Davar, as rare as that might be. That man stepped out to meet Davar all puffed up with bravado.

  “Now don’t hurt our new friend, Brosto,” Jato said, his tone light. He was the obvious leader of the group and Cassine could see how easily the others deferred to him. “Maybe he just wants a piece of this girlie too.” Jato’s eyes flicked to Cassine then back to Davar. “Maybe he wants to bring along his own wench to join our group. Is that it, friend?”

  “Let the girl go,” Davar said. This voice was calm, almost cheery. Knowing him… that tone in and of itself was terrifying.

  Jato smiled. “I’m not thinking I will, and I’m not thinking you can beat the five of us to make me.”

  Davar nodded, flashing a grin. He put his hands up in defeat and turned around, taking a step away.

  There was a half-heartbeat of reduced tension in the room before Davar swung back around and hit Brosto with a solid backhand to the neck, followed by an even harder punch to the face. The large man crumpled, unconscious.

  The other four men froze for an instant in stunned shock, which was enough time for Davar to step in and hammer another man on the side of the head, sending him to the ground with Brosto.

  The others sprung into action.

  Cassine had been around fighting men most of her life. She could tell these men were used to a tussle, but more… they were used to fighting together.

  Jato turned himself and the girl to put her between him and Davar, his knife once again pressed to her throat. The other two spread out drawing weapons of their own, one a short sword, the other a long curved knife, similar to Jato’s.

  “If you care so much for this girlie, you’d better walk away now, friend, or I’ll open her throat.” As if to emphasize his point, he pressed the knife higher, drawing a bead of blood.

  Cassine suddenly realized what she could do. Her soul talent caught the emotions radiating off of these men. It was almost a palpable thing to her: the fear, anger, and exhilaration. So she sent a wave of calm and peace cascading out to them. Perhaps they might relent once emotions abated. She didn’t push as strongly toward Davar, though his emotions were intense as well. She’d wait a moment to see if his feelings escalated.

  Jato and his companions relaxed a little, letting down their guard. Jato’s blade fell away from the girl’s neck by an inch or two.

  Faster than anyone expected, Davar rushed in and grabbed Jato’s hand and pulled the knife away from the girl’s neck. Davar’s grip must have been crushing as Jato screamed like a child, face contorted in pain.

  One of other two was quick to react and, stepping up behind Davar, plunged his knife into Davar’s back, all the way to the hilt.

  Davar responded by half turning and elbowing the man in the jaw. That one collapsed as the other rushed in. Davar spun and, using Jato’s own hand and knife, blocked the other man’s sword, knocking it away. He then kicked the man solidly in the stomach, sending him flying back into one of the tables, breaking it as he went down, groaning.

  Davar turned back to Jato, still holding the man’s hand. He pried the other hand off of the girl and whispered a harsh, “Run.” She did.

  Now holding both of Jato’s hands, Davar kneed the man hard between his legs. Jato doubled over. Davar released him and brought his elbow down on the back of the man’s neck. Jato went limp, splayed on the floor.

  Davar plucked Jato up by his neck, holding him easily off the ground with one hand, his limp body dangling. With his free hand, Davar reached behind him and plucked out the knife in his lower back. The wound ran with blood, but only for a moment. He was a strong earth talent and could quickly heal himself. He brought the knife up to Jato’s throat and there he paused.

  “Davar don’t,” Cassine said. Killing would only add another stain on his soul and this time it wouldn’t have been while under the control of the Blacklord.

  Davar’s hand shook but didn’t move. His knuckles went white on the knife’s hand.

  Cassine rushed over to him.

  “Give me the knife,” she said softly. Looking into his face she saw the conflict in his eyes.

  Nearly everything in his being told him to kill this man, discard him. But there was something that warred against that impulse.

  She watched his face twitch, teeth gritted, hand trembling, as he pulled the knife back and placed in her hands. He was breathing hard.

  He tossed Jato’s body back to the floor and stalked away.

  Cassine turned to the Matron, who was clutching her sobbing daughter. “Is there any sort of lawman in this town?”

  The woman shook her head. “Only the local Lord and he’s two days east.”

  “These brutes from around here?” It was Davar who was asking, his voice thick with some restrained emotion.

  Another shake of the matron’s head. “First time they’ve been here.”

  Davar nodded with a grunt. “Allow me to clean this up, then.” He hefted two men from the ground, one in each hand, despite one of them being Brosto and larger than him.

  He made his way to the door, but Cassine stopped him on his way.

  “What are you going to do with them?”

  “Dump them someplace far away.”

  “That’s all?”

  His eyes met hers steadily. His breathing was easier now and she could see a lot of the tension of the fight had drained from him. “For you yes, that’s all.”

  For her? Perhaps she was making a difference.

  “Thank you.”

  He grunted. “I’ll be back for the others in a moment.” Then he was out the door.

  She thanked any God that would listen that he’d begun to change his ways… even if he had needed a little prompting. She’d seen the conflict within him where before there’d been none. Even how he’d fought the men was a testament to his restraint. If he’d wanted to, he could’ve easily killed these men instead of incapacitating them. From their time being connected, she knew his impressive strength, speed, and near invulnerability. He’d been pulling his punches… or they’d be dead. He still had a long way to go, but she was impressed. She could only hope things continued to go so well.

  Chapter 6

  Davar had never been one to show his emotions. He was quite adept at masking how he felt. Yet he was finding it harder and harder to keep himself in check around Cassine. Perhaps it was her healing, constantly reaching into his soul, or simply that he’d never met anyone so selfless and fascinating. Every emotion seemed amplified when he was near her.

  And right now… he didn’t want what he was feeling to be amplified any more than it was.

  Cassine was attempting one of her healings, touching his soul, filtering through the darkness that lurked there and then bringing it into the
light for him to deal with. Yet he couldn’t concentrate on the memories and emotions which were being drudged forth within him. He was still slightly agitated from the confrontation in the common room earlier. If that wasn’t enough Cassine was nearly naked next to him. They’d both bathed before retiring to their room and not wanting to climb back into dirty clothes they’d given their soiled garments over to the matron who was more than happy to wash them. But since they had no other clothes to wear he was wrapped only in a towel and she was wearing one of the matron’s daughter’s sleeping shifts. Since Cassine was a much taller and fuller-figured woman than the girl the shift came only to her mid thigh. That and the sheer fabric was so strained and stretched over all her wondrous curves as to be nearly see-through.

  Cassine seemed to have no idea of her effect on him.

  He was glad she no longer knew his every thought, as she had when they been so deeply connected after the teleportation. That connection dwindled to near nothing.

  Yet still she was deep in his emotions and had to be sensing something.

  For her, he tried not to think about her round hips and full breasts and instead concentrate on the task at hand.

  This time the emotions surging within him from her work in his soul were a mix of hatred, lust, jealousy, and anger. The memory came full force into his mind. The Blacklord’s army had just overrun a town in western Noveria, and the defenders were scattered and defeated. The Blacklord’s men were enjoying their usual past time of looting and pillaging. Davar burst through the door of a house to find a young man, scared yet determined, protecting his young wife. Davar saw an opportunity. It wasn’t that hard to dispatch the man. Shadowfang snaked out and sang with bloodlust as the man’s guts were opened and he fell away screaming, eyes wide. Davar then sheathed his sword and moved toward the woman. She was screaming too, but that didn’t bother him. He had his way with her, then opened her up like he’d done with her mate.

  He felt the hatred and lust turn to shame, pity, and sorrow. He felt their pain as they died. Felt the emotional torment of the woman, seeing her husband cut down then being ravaged. It brought bile to Davar’s throat. It was horrible, evil. Then he had to admit to himself that he’d done it. He didn’t think anyone could forgive such acts. Yet feeling how Cassine worked with the emotions and memories, she was in her way forgiving him.