by Philip Blood
“I’ll be back in a bell or so,” Lasar said and turned the horse to go back down the hill. He left the guards and went to put Rasal’s horse with the other two.
The guards went back to their post snickering about the contents of the message. “I can’t believe she sent him her bloomers! I didn’t think the capt’in had it in him.”
Inside the keep, Rasal flitted from shadow to shadow like a fish leaping between dark pools of water. He found the worn stone steps that lead to the top of the rampart walls. Before ascending he carefully checked to make sure no one was watching, and then he scampered up the steps quickly. Luck and the fact that they planned their assault during the Keep’s dinnertime made it unlikely he would be seen.
There was one sentry strolling along the front wall above the gate, but he was deep in his thoughts on this quiet night, protected by the height of the walls and the knowledge that two other guards watched the only entrance. He paced on, oblivious to the silent Rasal passing through the shadows.
Rasal moved to the back wall of the keep. He crouched in the shadows while he unwound the rope concealed around his waist and under his jerkin. He quickly made it fast and cast it over the wall.
Moments later, he saw the rope quiver with the tension of a man climbing. Becaris came over the wall quietly. After another few moments, Lasar came over as well. The three knights pulled the rope back up and Rasal coiled it around his waist.
Becaris signaled for them to begin the second part of their plan by holding up two fingers.
They stayed in the shadows and waited for the front wall sentry to turn his back, then in single file, they crept down the stairs and entered the nearest of the four structures by a side door.
"This is going too easy, we’re almost to the passage leading to the dungeon," Becaris whispered to the twins.
Just as he finished whispering they heard voices ahead coming their way.
Becaris made a small hiss to get the brother’s attention and then pointed up a stairway on their right.
They quickly raced up the stairs going three steps at a time and made the turn above just before the approaching soldiers came into sight.
Luck was with them, the Knight Protectors found themselves in a wide and empty hallway. Oil paintings of past Tchulian commanders were interspersed between the numerous doors, most of which were closed.
The knights heard the soldiers behind them coming up the stairs, so they quickly moved down the hall to the nearest door. Becaris listened carefully, but heard nothing, so he took a chance and opened the door.
He found an empty bedroom, and from the size and various objects of worth, decided that this probably belonged to an officer.
Quickly the three Knight Protectors stepped inside and closed the door.
Becaris stayed at the door and motioned for Lasar to check out the other door that connected to this room on the right wall.
Lasar nodded and moved over quietly to the wooden door so that he could listen. Rasal stayed with Becaris, ready to draw his sword if the soldiers in the hall tried to enter.
Becaris heard the soldiers walk by and enter another door further down. When he turned to check on Lasar the knight gestured for him to come quickly.
Rasal stayed to listen at the door to the main hall while Becaris went and listened to Lasar’s door.
The conversation Lasar had discovered going on in the next door room was very interesting, and Becaris heard them say, “...but Captain, we’ve lost fifteen men since the search began.”
“I don’t care First Lieutenant, I want that prisoner found. If he’s dead, then I want that ring and you’re going to find it for me or I’ll feed you to that souldead creature myself. Is that clear?”
“Yes, captain. I’m sorry I trusted Sergeant Augher with the prisoner, but I don’t need to punish him, the good sergeant has already paid the price of failure. That souldead creature who haunts the caverns got him, sucked out his brain,” the first lieutenant said, with a little fear in his voice.
“Serves him right, and you’re lucky I don’t have you executed for your bad judgment in trusting the soldiers under you with a prisoner who should have had your personal care. I’ll give you words of advice First Lieutenant, never trust anyone. Have you met Major Von Dracek?”
From the sound of his voice, Becaris thought that this change in the conversation had puzzled the first lieutenant. “Yes, Sir,” the first lieutenant answered with a questioning tone.
“Then you know that you don’t want to anger the man. I have just received another message from the major out of Lindankar, it arrived earlier by stirglik. He wants that ring.”
The first lieutenant gulped. “I’ll find it, Sir.”
“Yes you will or both our heads could roll. If that ring is not in my hands soon it will upset me. Then I’ll have to find something to cheer me up, like sending you into the caverns below, alone,” the captain finished.
“Yes Captain, I’ll go and push the men harder, right away,” and Becaris heard the sounds of the first lieutenant leaving out the door into the hall.
As soon as the first lieutenant’s footsteps had faded away Becaris motioned for Lasar to stand back.
Becaris pulled out his belt dagger and opened the door with his free hand.
The Tchulian captain glanced up at the intrusion with a frown of annoyance that quickly turned to surprise at seeing Becaris instead of a Tchulian soldier.
The merc officer grabbed at a dagger that lay on the desk before him, but Becaris threw his own readied blade first.
The dagger pierced the Tchulian in the chest, a little more centered than Becaris had intended.
Becaris and Lasar rushed into the room as the Tchulian officer fell from his chair.
“Find that message he mentioned!” Becaris exclaimed.
They searched the papers on the desk and found the message; they knew it was the right one from the crinkles and folds from its recent trip. Unfortunately, it was written in the Tchulian’s code.
“Vorg’s breath!” Lasar cursed.
Becaris did not waste time; he dropped to a knee beside the dying officer on the floor and held the message in front of the man’s eyes. “What does this message say?’ he demanded of the wounded Merc.
“Eat crap,” the officer advised and blood spewed from his mouth.
Lasar reached forward and grasped the hilt of the dagger that protruded from the officer’s chest as he asked, “Who was behind the plot against Lord Ardellen?”
The Captain looked into the steel gray eyes of the knight and then to his hand clasping the dagger; even the light touch when Lasar had taken hold was excruciatingly painful.
“You’ll never believe... ” the Merc gasped, “it was lord Jatar’s foster brother.”
“Which one?” Becaris demanded.
But the officer started choking and his body arched up in one last spasm. “Darkness take you!” he cursed and his body suddenly went limp as he died.
Becaris sighed heavily.
Lasar pulled out the dagger and returned it to Becaris.
“Bring the note Lasar; perhaps we can decipher it later.”
Lasar stuffed it within his leather armor and followed Becaris back into the room where Rasal guarded the door.
A moment later the three knights slipped into the main hall and crept back down the stairs to the first level.
Elizabeth and Poison sat around their new camp. They were in a small valley between two gently rolling hills of tall yellow grass. A rock outcropping circled the top of each hill like a jeweled crown on a monarch’s head.
Hetark was busy grooming the horses, he had not allowed the women to help, particularly Poison. “No thank you, Ma’am, I lost the bet, so it’s my job,” he had told her when she started to help with the horse picket.
Poison sat down angrily at the fire. Elizabeth was actually amused by their friction because she could see something that Hetark missed. She decided to take Poison’s mind off her anger.
&nb
sp; “Now is a good time for me to take a look at that eye,” Elizabeth said cheerily.
Poison’s good eye stared at Elizabeth; now that it came down to it she was a little concerned about the prospect of magic being used on her body. Poison had no experience with aura powers.
“What are ye gonna do?” she asked Elizabeth.
“It won’t hurt, I assure you. First, just let me take a look at it, and stop worrying, this won’t be difficult at all.”
“I ain’t scared,” Poison told her defiantly and pulled off the patch.
There was a short scar from a deep cut in her brow that went through the socket where her eye had been, it had not healed well.
Elizabeth placed her hand on the side of Poison’s face near the old wound. “Close your other eye for a moment while I check this out,” she advised.
Poison was scared, Elizabeth could see that in her aura, but the tough girl wasn’t about to admit it to anyone, so she closed her good eye and waited for the worst.
Elizabeth smiled to herself and extended her aura power into the wounded area and started healing the destroyed tissues by restoring the aura to the original shapes and hues.
“Did you get this scar along your jaw at the same time?” Elizabeth asked Poison, whose eyes were still tightly held shut.
“Yes, I had a bad day,” she said lightly.
Elizabeth shifted her power to the scar and removed that mark as well.
“How bad is it? Is there any chance you can fix the eye?” Poison finally asked, ready for the bad news.
“No, Poison, I can’t fix it... ”
“It’s all right,” Poison said with an attempt to hide her utter disappointment.
“...because there’s nothing wrong with it anymore,” Elizabeth finished. “Open your eyes, Poison.”
Poison’s identical steel gray eyes snapped open and she reached up as if to touch her new eye to see if it was real.
Elizabeth took out a small mirror and let Poison look at her face, there was no sign of the old wounds and her face was back to its original beauty.
“You healed my scar too, how can I ever repay you?” the girl asked, her voice choking up from contained emotion.
“You don’t have to pay me anything; it is payment enough just to witness your happiness, but as we discussed earlier if you feel an obligation let this healing be in exchange for the instruction you have given me; we’re even,” Elizabeth explained.
Tears welled up in Poison’s eyes and she quickly wiped them away with the backs of her hands. “I never thought... ” she muttered, trailing off.
“When you’re ready I’d like to get working on another speech lesson,” Elizabeth mentioned.
“Of course, we kin start right now!” Poison exclaimed.
Hetark looked over and did a double take when he saw Poison’s unmarred and beautiful face, with the patch gone Hetark finally saw what Elizabeth had noticed from the beginning, Poison’s face had an amazing resemblance to Elizabeth’s.
“What do you think, Hetark?” Elizabeth asked with a smile.
“You never cease to amaze me, milady,” he answered with a shake of his head.
Hetark went back to work and the two women started the lesson. Elizabeth continued to learn from Poison by watching her mind, even when it was Poison being taught.
“What would you do if a man asked to see you?” Elizabeth asked Poison.
“I’d smile and poke out his eyes! I don’t strip fer pay,” she responded, indignantly.
“No Poison, he wouldn’t be asking you to take off your clothes, he would be asking permission to take you out on a regular basis,” Elizabeth corrected.
“Then why didn’t he say that? If e’s ask’in me then he can already see me, right?” the confused girl responded.
“It’s just a term used for courting. If the man asking is someone you like then you could say, “I would enjoy that very much. What would you say if he was a man you were not interested in seeing?”
Poison thought hard about the kind of answer Elizabeth had been teaching her to say and answered, “I’d say, `It’s kind ‘o you te ask, but I’m busy right now.’... ”
“Good!” Elizabeth exclaimed before Poison was quite finished.
“...and I’d throw a dagger in the wall next te his ear te make sure he got the point,” the bodyguard finished haughtily.
“No dagger, Poison, he would understand that you didn’t want to go out with him,” Elizabeth corrected.
“Then why don’t I just say, ‘I don’t want te go out with the likes of you!’?” Poison asked.
“It isn’t polite. By not actually saying that you don’t want to go out with him you save his ego and he saves face. Now if he doesn’t take the hint and becomes impolite, then you can be more blunt and impolite yourself,” she explained.
“Then I can throw him out?” Poison asked.
“No, you don’t throw a gentleman out the door! If he didn’t take your hint you just tell him to leave and that you are not interested in ever going somewhere with him in the future.”
“What if he grabs me?” Poison asked.
“A gentleman won’t,” Elizabeth responded.
“What if he doesn’t act like a gentleman and grabs me? Do I have te let him?” Poison asked, ready to give up the whole idea of learning the ways of a lady if she had to accede to a man’s demands.
“Then you have my permission to rip his nose off and toss him out the door on his head,” Elizabeth answered.
“Good, I was get’in worried there fer a moment,” Poison said with relief.
“Poison, men of the upper classes don’t normally try to force women to do anything. Some expect their wealth and manners to impress a lady into doing what they want, and others are true gentlemen who only want a woman to give what she wants to give. I’m not saying that they are all as honorable as Hetark, but give them the benefit of the doubt. If they prove themselves a bore, then take appropriate action. And I do mean appropriate action, which means you don’t kill them if they get a little friendly, just push them away. If they bother you, respond according to the severity of the infraction. If he kisses you and you don’t want to be kissed, slap him, don’t stab him with a poison dagger. Unless he had bad breath, then it’s all right to stab... I’m just kidding Poison,” Elizabeth said suddenly, seeing the intent look on Poison’s face and the slight nod of agreement.
Poison grinned at Elizabeth’s reaction. “Had you go’in there, I knew you were just jok’in.”
Elizabeth smiled back, she had been watching in Poison’s mind, learning things from her the whole time they talked, so she had known Poison was trying to fool her, but Elizabeth pretended to believe Poison’s act, allowing her to play the joke was important in developing Poison’s confidence in her social skills.
“What am I te do about my talk’in? I want te speak handsomely like you,” Poison asked, becoming serious again.
Elizabeth considered the options silently for a moment. I could teach her, but it might take months for us to completely get rid of that accent, but if I could place some blocks and bridges, she’d learn it in a few days. I wonder if she trusts me enough to let me in her mind?
Elizabeth gauged Poison a moment before asking her a question, and then said, “You know how I quickly learned to throw knives?”
“I know you learned, but I don’t know ‘ow, exactly,” Poison answered.
“You know it has something to do with my Kirnath abilities, right?”
“Yes, I suppose I do,” Poison answered, a little puzzled by the turn in the conversation.
“Well, what would you say if I told you I could help you learn to change your speech very quickly using my abilities?” Elizabeth asked, watching Poison carefully for signs of fear.
“That would be great!” Poison responded. The healing of her eye had brought a level of trust that the street girl had seldom given to anyone.
“You would have to lie down, relax and let me put my hands on your
forehead, and then you’ll go to sleep for a short time. When you wake up you’ll find you can speak without your accent. Though remember about the types of memory, you’ll have to practice and concentrate for a few days or you’ll revert to the old accent,” Elizabeth told her, looking into her eyes to show she was being honest.
Poison looked a little apprehensive, trust only went so far.
“Ye’re go’in te go in my head?”
“I wouldn’t do anything else besides help you lose your accent, I promise,” Elizabeth reassured her.
Hetark walked by the two of them carrying a water skin toward the horses. He stopped by Elizabeth’s blankets, set down the buckets and fixed the lower corner of her bedroll. It was folded under, so he pulled it out straight and smoothed out the wrinkles. When he was finished he picked up the buckets and continued on his way. He had not noticed them watching.
“All right, if you promise I’ll be the same as I was before. You won’t make me have too many manners, will you?”
“No, you’ll have to decide that type of thing for yourself. Using manners or not is up to you. I wouldn’t ever take a person’s choice away. Being able to choose is your greatest gift in life, like choosing to fight for a just cause versus personal gain. What you choose to believe in, or ignore, are fences each person must cross on their own. Right now you sit on a fence, you are not a bandit or a thief, but you associate with those types. One day soon you’ll be forced to make up your mind; are you going to stand against the wrongs of this world or join them? If you don’t choose then one day you’ll be knocked off that fence anyway. I’ve chosen to fight an evil that must be stopped, and the only way that will happen is for people, like you and me, to stand up for what is right, no matter what the personal consequences.”
Poison looked troubled by Elizabeth's sudden sermon.
“I’m sorry, I got sidetracked,” Elizabeth said with a smile, “we were discussing your choice on manners. As far as this simple accent meld, don’t worry, I’ll just be giving you something, you won’t be losing anything. In fact, you’ll be able to switch back and forth between the accents once you have practiced the new one,” she explained.
