Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress XXIII

by Waters, Elisabeth

  Running in a doll body was difficult. Namali glanced back—handy to have a head that could turn all the way around—and saw that the men were gaining on her.

  Then she felt herself being lifted, heard her fancy dress tear as it caught on a shrub as the girl she'd been forced to share the litter with grabbed her and took off running.

  Namali had to give her credit. For a pampered thing, she could run like the wind. And in fragile house sandals, no less.

  Namali turned her head, fighting her way through the girl's long brown hair, and her voluminous veils and layers until she could see behind them. "It's okay. We're clear. Slow down before you fall down."

  The girl slowed slightly.

  "I said—"

  "Shut up"—the girl sounded less winded than Namali expected—"or I'll drop you."

  Namali decided to shut up. She let the girl run, occasionally closing her eyes when it seemed a crash was imminent, but fear kept the girl on her feet. Fear was an excellent motivator for some; for others, it just made them freeze.

  The girl finally stopped, and she dropped Namali to the ground rather than setting her down carefully as she expected. "Okay, what are you?"

  "I'm a doll." Namali was not supposed to divulge the secrets of Settet. The fact that she changed bodies over and over was known to very few: the priests of Settet, the rival sect, and the few outsiders deemed critical and who had proven themselves trustworthy. This girl fell into none of those groups.

  "A talking doll?"

  "I am... unique." In her lilting voice, Namali sounded nothing like a scary warrior. She tried to hide the sword she'd held onto throughout the chase behind her back.

  "A talking doll with a sharp weapon."

  "A novelty. And magical."

  "Or evil." The girl backed away. "Are you evil?"

  "I saved your life, you ninny."

  "Quit talking to me that way. No one talks to me that way."

  It was obviously high time someone did. But Namali could see this was getting her nowhere, so she decided not to be the one to start the trend. "I need your help." The girl had said she'd wanted an adventure. Here was the biggest one of her life.

  "My help?" The girl looked around the grove of trees they'd stopped in. "I saved your life, too. So I think that my assistance to you has come to an end." She looked around. "I'll just be going."

  "Good luck, then. I'm sure you know exactly where you're headed." Namali sort of fell down instead of sitting down; her knees weren't hinged and her legs stuck out in front of her. "Don't walk right into the arms of the killers while you're on your way home."

  Home: a place it didn't sound like the girl was particularly wanted.

  "You could tell me which way to go."

  Namali tried to shrug; it didn't work. "I could. But I'm an evil doll, remember?"

  The girl strode back, kicking dust—on purpose, Namali suspected—up around her. It would have been annoying if dolls had to breathe.

  "What do you need help with? Not that I'm saying I'm going to help you. But go ahead and tell me your situation."

  "My situation is that I need to get to Dahlinia. It is urgent. I cannot tell you why. I need you to get me there and drop me off at a certain place and then leave."

  "That's it?"

  "Well, you will have to hoof it, not ride in the lap of luxury."

  "Very funny." The girl looked up. "I've never had an adventure."

  "Yes. You were saying that."

  "Oh, so you were listening?"

  "I talk, ergo I listen."

  The girl laughed, and it was a sweet sound, almost self-deprecating. "It's not been my experience that the one necessarily follows the other."

  Namali wanted to grin, but when she tried, the doll's face stayed in the same insipid little "O" it was always in. "I, too, have noticed that."

  "Okay. An adventure will be fun." The girl picked her up, not gently, and held her upside down. "Does that bother you?"

  "No."

  "You could be lying. I bet it does bother you. I hope it does." She tightened her grip. "Which way, evil doll-thing?"

  "That way," Namali tried to point to the side, but her arm only went on an up-down track. "Toward the tree with the bark stripped off by deer."

  "They all look the same to me."

  Namali sighed. The sound came out languid rather than exasperated. "Turn right and then go straight. And hurry. They haven't given up, you know."

  "Let's talk about them."

  "Walk now. Talk later."

  The girl didn't seem to like that, so Namali refused to answer her questions, and eventually she stopped talking and just walked.

  * * * *

  Leanna got tired of looking at the doll's feet and flipped her around so she could see her face. The pretty blonde hair was all over the place, her dress was torn, and one of her silver sandals had fallen off during their flight. "You ready to talk?"

  The doll made a spasmodic gesture that Leanna guessed was a nod.

  "So, what's your name?"

  "That's not for you to know."

  They were just getting close to a gently moving stream. Gently moving if you were human sized. Not so soothing if you were the size of the doll. Leanna held the doll over it by one arm. "I'm sorry but I didn't quite catch your name the first time."

  The doll looked as placid as ever, and her voice was her normal sweet tone as she said, "Namali," but Leanna had the distinct impression the little thing was angry.

  She pulled her back up to her original position. "Pleasure to meet you, Namali. I'm—although I know you don't care—Leanna. Of the house of Frador."

  The doll didn't disappoint her by saying anything nice in return.

  "What I can't figure out," she said, pretending that Namali and she had been deep in conversation rather than on a forced march, "is why anyone would have attacked us."

  "They were robbers. You're obviously rich."

  "This road is very safe or my father would have rented guards. I'm worth a lot to him, being so pretty and marriageable." The last part came out bitter.

  "Perhaps they were desperate." But the doll's voice lacked conviction

  "Why would desperate robbers pick on a litter with six men? Aren't they usually opportunistic types? You know, prey on the weak or something?"

  "Maybe the litter-bearers looked very tired. The litter was, after all, heavy."

  "I know you're not implying I'm fat. I'm pleasingly curved. And tall. Men look at me all the time." When she was allowed to leave the house, anyway.

  "I meant with all your clothes. And the doll chest."

  All her pretty things. Lost now. "But... " She pulled the doll around so she could see her face. "Why would they be chasing us, then? All my stuff is back there." She'd heard of women being attacked, of course. But not on that road. And not by robbers confronted with all the luxuries she'd had with her.

  "Perhaps they are assassins?"

  "My father's not political. He has no enemies—I've heard him tell people that a good businessman keeps friends on all sides and enemies on none. And I'm... nobody." It hurt to say it, but it was the truth. She was nobody, but not nothing. She was worth something to her father for what she could bring him, not for who she was.

  "I believe they were robbers."

  It still didn't make sense. She'd traveled that road often and never had a bit of trouble. Not until now. "Wait a minute. You're the new thing here. I think they were after you." She dropped the doll and backed away. "Did you kill someone? Are they hunting you?"

  The doll pushed herself up. She'd fallen with her head turned nearly all the way around: it was not a comforting pose. "And they said you were empty headed."

  Leanna stomped closer, hands on hips. "Well, they were wrong, weren't they? And, who's 'they'?"

  "I am sworn to secrecy."

  Leanna laughed at her. "Well, let me know how you like Dahlinia. You should be there in, oh, a month or so with those little legs. Hope you don't melt in the desert.
"

  "It appears I must trust you." The doll looked this way and that—another very creepy thing to watch—and then leaned in. "I am... not a doll."

  "No? Really?" Leanna glared at her.

  "I am the Warrior of Settet. Have you heard of me?"

  "Can't say I have." She knew who Settet was, of course, but he wasn't a god her father worshipped, so by default he wasn't one she worshipped.

  "My spirit moves across the centuries, from body to body. This doll is a temporary vessel. I can only stay in it for a short time before the lack of life energy begins to deplete my spirit." The doll sighed. "I am on my way to the temple to meet my new vessel. But Settet's enemies block my way at every turn. As you saw back there."

  "So you want me to get you to the temple so you can take over your vessel. The vessel's alive, I take it?"

  Again the jerky nod thing.

  "So, what will you become? A great cat? Maybe a wolf? A hunter, right? So not a deer or a—"

  "I am human. Just as you are. Or I will be as soon as I get to the vessel."

  Leanna frowned. "Human? So you possess a human the same way you possessed the doll?"

  "I do not possess. I take possession. It is a slightly different thing."

  "What happens to the person who was in the body to begin with?"

  "She will be no more. It is a choice she has made. She will have been trained to be a warrior from the time she could walk, but the choice is made once she is old enough to understand the consequences."

  "So... you kill her?"

  "She will give up her life so I might live."

  "Right. Like I said."

  The doll seemed to be fidgeting. "It is her choice. An honor."

  "Yeah, some honor." Leanna suddenly wanted to get rid of the doll as soon as possible. She scooped her up, trying not to hold her too close, and began to lope across the countryside.

  "You will tire yourself out."

  "Little late to start thinking of others, isn't it?"

  "Coming from you... ?"

  "Look, I may be selfish and pampered—and maybe a little vain. But at least I'm not a murderer."

  The doll turned her head away sharply. Leanna was glad not to have her dead blue eyes on her.

  * * * *

  "Put me down," Namali said, turning her head this way and that, scanning the countryside around them. "I thought I saw something just now."

  Leanna had stopped loping some time back. She was subdued, not meeting Namali's eyes anymore—also not doing anything to antagonize her. Namali had admired the spunk of the girl, was almost sad to see that she was now afraid of her.

  Leanna set her down carefully, and then looked around. "What is it?"

  Namali saw it then. The flash of the sun on metal on a hillside about three over from their position. "Get down."

  Leanna didn't question, just crumpled and stared at her in alarm.

  "They've found us."

  "Wonderful." Leanna swallowed hard. "And if I left you here, would they leave me alone?"

  "Probably."

  "But I'd be a murderer, then, wouldn't I?" Obviously the girl had been thinking about this option. "A murderer of a murderer, so does that make it all right?"

  "I cannot tell you that." Nor did Leanna look like she wanted her to. "You must do what you think is right."

  "Is there a safe way to run?"

  Namali felt a surge of disappointment. More in Leanna than in her imminent demise—she would comport herself well, might take a few of her killers with her. But this girl had seemed to hold, perhaps, some promise. "That way," she said, the direction one her useless doll arm could point to.

  "I want you to know that I really hate you," Leanna said as she scooped Namali up and ran, covering the ground as fleetly as a fox.

  "You are a very good runner."

  "When my father is gone I run through the house. It helps me work off excess energy. Also keeps my curves pleasant since we tend to eat a lot."

  Namali kept an eye on the flashes; they were gaining ground. "Leanna, I believe they are on horses."

  The girl slowed.

  "You tried. You must always remember that. You acted with honor." She struggled to get down. "Now, go."

  Leanna put her down, but she didn't go. "They know you're in the doll, right?"

  "Yes, they appear to know."

  "Can you—I can't believe I'm even asking this. Can you possess without taking possession?" She crouched down. "If I let you in, could you share this body for a while, until we got to your vessel?"

  "I don't know. I could try."

  "Try is the best you can come up with? As assurances go... "

  "I understand, Leanna. You don't have to do this. I have lived many lifetimes. Avoided death for centuries. Maybe... maybe it is my time to go?"

  "Maybe it is." The girl sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

  Namali touched her on the cheek. "You have a life of your own to lead. This was never supposed to happen. I was only seeking safe transport."

  Leanna stared at her for a long moment, her brown eyes boring into Namali's. "What are the odds that you'll win if I let you in?"

  "When I first met you, I would have said very slim. But you are agile and stronger than you look. And very stubborn. Also not stupid."

  "So pretty good odds?"

  Namali tried to nod. It was frustratingly difficult with a head meant to go around, but not up and down.

  "Then do it." Leanna sat down cross-legged. "What do I need to do?"

  "You need to be sure of this. I cannot guarantee that you will survive."

  "I understood that the first time you said it." She shook her arm, making the bangles tinkle prettily. "This, Namali, this is the extent of my life. Look beautiful. Smell good. Make pretty sounds when I walk." She met Namali's eyes, looked resolved.

  "Hold out your hands to me."

  They touched and Namali felt herself drawn into Leanna; she began to expand, began to take control even though she didn't want to this time.

  Hold it right there.

  Namali felt her expansion stop.

  My body. My life, too. We share.

  They would share. It was good, or at least preferable to dying in the doll. Leanna had a surprisingly strong energy to her. Namali drew it in and felt her old strength returning.

  If you want them to believe you're gone, then you should let me do the talking.

  "I need to be in control of this."

  I knew you'd say that.

  Namali heard the sound of pounding hooves, saw the men come over the hillside. She backed away from the doll, trying to look scared.

  The men dismounted, one of them coming up to her. "Why did you run?"

  "It's my favorite doll and I've lost everything else." She aimed for a vacuous smile, tried to bat her eyelashes at him.

  She knew she wasn't good at it, but Leanna was beautiful enough to convince him of anything.

  "Go home, miss. This never happened." He grabbed the doll and started to mount his horse.

  "Wait." From the back of the group of horsemen, another man got down. He wore a black traveling robe but underneath she could see glimpses of grass-green satin.

  A priest of the rival sect. He would know that—

  "The doll is empty."

  Now what?

  Namali reached down and snatched the sword that had fallen from the doll's grasp as soon as she'd vacated. She ignored the priest and went for the man who'd fallen for Leanna's wiles.

  Wait, he's kind of cute.

  Namali did not wait. She chucked the tiny weapon into his chest, and as he fell, grabbed his sword and twisted, swinging it and taking the priest's head with her.

  Okay, that's disgusting.

  Namali worried that she—they were going to throw up. "Try to control yourself."

  Sort of the problem, isn't it?

  But Leanna shut up and let Namali work with no interference. Only, it wasn't work. Not in this young, lithe body. She'd been o
ld for so long; to be this agile and strong again was delightful. She parried and struck, taking men from the ground or from their horses. The animals she spared—they were creatures with no choice on whose side they fought. But she slaughtered every one of the humans.

  When it was over she stood bent over with her hands on her knees, breathing hard, her skin stinging from many small wounds.

  If those scar, we are going to have words.

  Namali laughed and took the scabbards off two of the men, buckling them so the swords would hang on opposite hips. Grabbing another sword, she jammed it and the one she carried into the scabbards. Then she swung up on one of the horses.

  Now, there's a look that goes well with this gown. You haven't done much accessorizing, have you?

  It was going to be a long ride to Dahlinia.

  * * * *

  Leanna heaved a sigh of relief when they reached Dahlinia with no further incident. Feeling Namali take control had been nauseating—not as nauseating as the massacre that followed, but still high on the "not to be repeated" list.

  She'd let the horse go just outside of town. Namali had said someone might recognize it, ask too many questions. Which would no doubt lead to Namali hacking off their head, and Leanna could go the rest of her life without seeing that again.

  The temple is just ahead, on the right.

  "Doesn't look like much."

  It's very old.

  "And I stand by my original assessment. A little embellishment never goes wrong." As they got to the door, she saw blood smeared on the door. Not the embellishment she had in mind.

  Be careful.

  "Strangely, I knew that. The blood was a big clue." She felt Namali's desire to not go in through the front and headed back the way she'd come, to a side street where she could connect up with the small alley that ran behind the buildings. There was no blood on the back door.

  She eased the door open, waited a moment and listened hard.

  Go. Namali seemed to be feeding her a layout of the temple, so she darted inside and then took cover in an alcove.

  "Oh, no." She could smell it from where she was standing. Not just blood: death. Organs and waste and all the things that came out of bodies when you killed a whole bunch of people in a messy way. It was a smell she'd never experienced before today.

  Keep going.

  "I am. Just give me a moment." She forced her feet to move; the smell grew stronger and more horrible as she went.