by Derek Barton
Thoughts of escape had run briefly through her mind, but she knew Auste would find her anywhere she hid. The Wyvernguard had finally come and she had been revealed as a traitor. A relief washed over her. Bitter guilt and haunting shame had long tortured her mind, but at least her role was over in this insane war. She did not even hold anger or blame the young prince.
“Taliah! You—” Princess Letandra shouted from the doorway, but the horrific sight caught her words in her throat.
“It is alright,” the young maid moaned. “I had to do it. Now, he will never reach or use me again.”
Blood had dried on Taliah’s cherub cheeks, puddled around her neck and congealed in the twin pools of her empty eye sockets. In her left hand, she held the crushed, silver orbs. She realized that she still held a dagger in the other hand — it dropped to the floor and bounced under the bed.
No one moved into the room.
“Bring a Mender immediately!” The princess screamed.
***
Taihven ran behind the two Wyvernguard as they ran through the peasant shacks within Emmerich. They did not notice their fellow guard when he continued on straight when they turned a corner. His world was caving in, imploding from the threat of the war. He ran haphazardly, hoping to make his way to the abandoned barn he had discovered the prior night.
His heart pounded, thrummed in his earlobes and sweat coated his body like an icy blanket. When he tripped on a discarded crate and collapsed in one alley, he gave in to the urge and vomited all over himself.
The prince was physically ill, his head swam and his body shook with violent spasms. His body was wracked by the Malay, but it was the sight of Taliah and her mutilated face that haunted and sickened him.
He ripped off the closed helm and staggered to his feet.
The maid’s premonition repeated in his head like a fragment of a horrible dream: He will not stop and he is bringing the Viestrahl to Wyvernshield!
His mind raced with the mystery. Taliah was so desperate to escape him that she gouged her own eyes out! Who was this? What did he want?
Instinct seized the young prince and he twisted against it like a fox caught in the iron jaws of a trap. Frantic dread built up inside him. An episode was looming on the horizon like a thunderhead.
Taihven navigated through the village, using the back alley ways and deserted shackyards for a bit of cover. He had to get to the barn. Beyond a doubt, he had to get there before the episode struck.
On the outskirts of the village, a narrow rock path followed the forest tree line. He bolted down it as it descended the hill slope and crisscrossed with the familiar forest path he had taken with Taliah. Under the tree canopy, he stripped off the encumbering armor and buried it under a cluster of pine brambles. The prince was unsure if he would need it again.
After an eternity searching, Taihven found the barn in a sparse clearing at the northern end of the forest. With the last light of the day, he found a better alternative to the stairs: a weed-overgrown cellar trap door. It would not budge; rusted shut. His mind was still too muddled and clouded for magic by the Malay. He circled the building until he found a bent spike bar that laid underneath the stairs.
The spike bar fit perfectly inside the loop handle and he pried open a wide berth. Taihven scrambled inside but when he was halfway down the steps, a nauseating wave rippled over his entire body. It passed as quick as it came, but the prince knew it was only a forerunner. He yanked the door closed behind him and stumbled down the steps.
Taihven focused on a wooden post in the center of the dusty room. It had a chain attached by a hook and coiled at its base. The prince plopped down, wrapped his arms and legs around the pole and hoped that the chain would hold him as he wound it over his wrists.
“O Lady Haethraa, keep me tied here. Please, I do not want to hurt anyone else.” He prayed aloud in the shadows of the barn.
The reality in his mind grew more aggressive and dangerous it seemed with every visit. However, with his outbursts and his actions carried over into this world, he knew he could not trust himself.
Above all, he refused to bring any more pain to anyone else or his family.
#5
Letandra found herself at Captain Ruessard’s door once more. She was exhausted and distraught over the events of the day, but her work was not complete. Sighing aloud to herself, she knocked on the door. This time, she waited for him to open it.
“Come in.” His face was grim. “Were you able to find Taliah?” He inquired as he closed the door behind her.
Letandra did not answer and walked over to the office’s fireplace. She extended her hands and warmed her fingers.
“What is wrong? Did she get away?”
She shook her head and said, “I… I need to ask you to do something that, umm, well, something that I would never have thought I would ever ask you to do.”
“I am listening.” He poured them both a cup of Brulla, a hot mixture of milk, cider and honeywheat syrup. Then he added a touch of amber whiskey from a bottle in his desk.
She accepted the cup with a weary smile and continued, “I will have to censor some of my report to the Courts tomorrow. And the vision-gem that Sergeant Blackstaff brought us has to be destroyed.”
“Absolutely not!” He exclaimed. “We need that information, not to mention the evidence that can be used against Taliah.”
“There is not going to be a trial.”
The captain stood facing her, his jaw dropped. Bardun crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you telling me? She escaped? We can hunt her down — she is just a maid.”
The princess shook her head. “I know that this is not acceptable. This is not what I want to do. But this whole thing could really blow back on us. We found the maid and she pretty much confessed.”
“So what is t—”
“—If Deliah’s use of disease becomes known, not only will her reputation and character be forever tarnished, this will ruin your career too, Bardun. The part that the high officers of your Wyvernguard have played in all of this...” She paused to let the ramifications sink in. “By revealing that we used these terror tactics, it would disgrace all of us. We have to bury this.”
He mused and wrestled with his thoughts. “And that means letting a known spy and traitor go free?”
“Taliah has been punished. She cut out her own eyes to escape their hold on her. I sent her to the Infirmary and once she has healed she can be banished from the country. I just cannot find any good in destroying the memory of one of my best friends, disgracing our reputations and the Throne, all in an attempt to punish an exposed spy that cannot hurt us any further.”
“It is your decision, Lady Magistrate. Your decision.” Bardun frowned. “But… you do not have the entire story.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
Ruessard walked away from the princess and sat at his desk. He held his face in his hands and said through his fingers, “Today just keeps getting better and better. You see, Sergeant Devin just got back from the docks.”
“We need to speak with him right n—”
“—Not possible. The sergeant is recovering in the Infirmary.”
The Lady Magistrate gasped and ran to him. “And the Envoy?”
He shook his head. “Hundreds of Viestrahl ambushed and butchered the entire docks, sunk every ship. The Envoys were on the Neo Dasia. Devin and a few of his men survived and only saved less than a dozen people.”
After a deliberate, long sip from his cup of Brulla, he stated in a flat monotone, “Your spy has a lot of blood to answer for, Your Majesty.”
PART VII — THE SIGHT:
Nightfall of Helmlaadar 11th~~
#1
The last of the twilight had gone which left the basement frigid and pitch black. A billowing snow storm developed after Taihven had imprisoned himself in the cellar and it continued to pelt the roof and the windows of the barn.
Taihven had streaked through the village and down the path to get in
to the barn before the episode hit him. He had been certain that an episode was looming. Now hours later he still waited, chained up and famished. His fever and cough had grown much worse.
The chains chafed and cut into his wrists and once he felt something crawl over one leg as he wrestled with indecision. Do I go up and rest in the hayloft or do I wait a bit more for the episode?
He tried to block out the image of poor Taliah’s face. Guilt had taunted him over and over about her. She had begged him to save her, but he abandoned her and he knew he had put her in jeopardy by ignoring her pleas.
Did I leave her no other choice, but to mutilate herself? Or had this Auste or someone else done this to punish her? Too many questions that he had no easy answers for.
Water dripped and wet his shoulder. Another pregnant drop hit. He stared up into the shadows and saw the next drop fall from one of the cellar’s beams — he was under a leak.
“Great!” He groaned. “That settles it!”
Taihven gripped the post and yanked himself to his feet.
A bolt of energy roared through him and the prince fell into the post as his vision blurred. His legs buckled from under him and his breath came out in hoarse gasps.
…The closer I get the worse you are going to feel…
The flat, hollow voice had been spoken over his shoulder.
Taihven scanned the cellar, but no one was there. His eyes searched the shadows and every dark inch of the corner behind him.
“Who is there? Who said that?”
Nothing. No answer.
Pain in his head erupted with renewed life. He doubled over and coiled into a fetal position at the base of the post.
…So close, but… not this time. Do not worry. I will find the way back. Nothing will stop that! Not even your…
***
The words faded out as Taihven sunk into the dusty floorboards, drifted deeper into the earth and felt sudden dampness all around him. His body felt numb and paralyzed; his mind stunned.
Am I dying, he thought. Was this how death felt?
Reflex kicked in and his body flailed and jerked. Gritty water filled his mouth as the sheer terror seized him. He pumped his arms and thrust his legs at the murky shadows. By animal instinct, he swam gagging on the filthy water.
Taihven broke the surface as his lungs were close to exploding from the effort. He coughed and choked on salty mud and paddled around in circles as he tried to get his bearings. A massive, flat marshland broken up by patches of gigantic ferns, red cat-tails and dwarf white trees surrounded him.
An episode had taken him after all.
But that voice…
He put that worry away for later, pitched his head side to side trying to clear his ears and proceeded to swim to the nearest shore bank.
A sharp pinch on his left calf startled him. The prince floated and tried to rub away the pain. Another pinch followed on his neck. A third attack caught him under the shoulder blade — something hunted in these waters. The bites while painful were not breaking his skin. Taihven dashed to escape the quagmire. Within the cloudy water, he spotted flickers of white and silver color. He was in the heart of a school of fish that swarmed around him.
Two, then three of the fish leaped out of the waves and over his head. They hovered in the air and circled above him using tiny, webbed side-fins. They squawked angry chirping sounds. Taihven guessed that they must use sound to locate prey as he could not spot any eyes.
Before he received any more bites, he escaped the pool, crawled up onto a slick patch of oily mud and collapsed under a set of dwarf trees. The hummer fish did not stray far from the water’s edge and gave up their pursuit. On his back, the prince worked to gather his breath and his thoughts. All had happened so fast and confusing; he felt as if he were missing something.
High above in the sky, towering stacks of clouds rolled along in uniform lines. Twin suns glistened and poked through in random spots and their rays spotlighted the marshes. Heat came down like a cotton blanket and his clothes began to dry. He felt a tad refreshed — escaping the bitter air of the cellar had been a welcome blessing.
The prince closed his eyes.
The patch he had found was actually comfortable and the muck had conformed to his weight and shape to cradle him. He looked to the right and the left and determined that the muck must be some sort of trail as it stretched in both directions. A streak of black rock broke the path in two.
A minute quake vibrated the ground beneath him. Sighing with frustration, he raised his head and looked around. Nothing had moved or was disturbed by the quake so he lowered his head again.
A breeze picked up. Taihven turned his head once more to the right; in his mind trying to decide which direction of the path to take, when he spotted two sets of eyes studying him from behind a bushel of cat-tails and fern leaves. The emotionless eyes were large like the size of Kildara coins and were glowing violet-blue, illuminated from some internal source.
He stared back, but it was not a show of any heroic strength or wisdom, but from exhaustion. If the owners of those eyes wanted him, he had nothing left to resist or defend himself with.
The foliage parted and twin lizard-like creatures moved forward together, their taloned-feet bearing down the ferns with ease. They came out into the open and stopped upon the path. The heads of the creatures were nearly the length of four hands across. A mane of ebony-coiled hair trailed along their chins. Their bodies were marked with a silvery streak that flared along it like a heartbeat. Their bodies ended in long horned tails and matched the black stripe along the path. Taihven guessed it must have been a part of their natural camouflage.
“Fledgling has no path and has no malice.” A deep bass voice rang out as if from the trees or the ferns. The pair of lizards nodded together in agreement.
Taihven rolled into the ferns, scampered to his feet behind a tree trunk. The lizards did not attempt to chase.
“Stay back! Get!” He hoped his shouts would frighten them off.as he charged back out on the path with his arms flailing. “Eeeyaah!”
They remained, focused and alert.
“Why do you use air, Fledgling?”
“Show yourse—”
“—So you use sounds? Not your thoughts? Interesting.” An image splashed over his mind that was not his own thought. It was of a small bird creature screeching out from a nest.
“Tell whoever that is with you to come out and face me!” Taihven commanded and pointed at the lizards.
The ground quaked again and everything shook upon the tiny island patch.
“You already are standing upon me.”
#2
It had been an unusually warm dawn, but as the sun headed into the noon hour, the winter chill came back strong.
Tonight there would be frost and maybe more snow, Letandra thought to herself. She prayed Taihven had found safe shelter.
Two men stood huddled together at the end of an alley. She had hidden behind several crates to be close enough to overhear and peek at them through a crack.
One, a heavier set man, handed a bundle and a bottle to the other. “Force this down his throat. It will keep him quiet enough, Jaspe.”
They stopped talking and checked around them to make sure no one was near.
“I am going to get them dogs ready. You goes find her, you know?” Jaspe clapped the other man on the back. “We begin then, eh?” He smiled a malicious toothless grin.
The two men went in opposite directions, but Letandra had already decided she was following Jaspe. She had an idea that he was heading to the stables and she hoped to make her move there. Several times as she tailed him, she was forced to duck into merchant stands as he glanced over his shoulder. He was nervous, paranoid and rightly so.
Letandra pulled the hood lower and raised her scarf covering her face. Anyone recognizing her would call attention and thus, alert the man and he would escape to carry out their plans. She could not allow it. The princess took a gamble and let him get out of
sight as she raced down an alternate parallel street to the stables.
In moments, she arrived at the back of the building which was busy with several soldiers, merchants and visitors. She opened a side window and slipped inside into an empty horse stall.
Two Wyvernguard joked together about their antics the nightfall before at Neyyden’s Nest and were laughing loudly. After they passed her stall, Letandra opened the wooden gate. Someone was in a stall at the end. A horse whinnied and stomped about.
“Do not be like that! Here, eat.” It was Jaspe’s voice. Her hunch had been right.
