Guardians of Evil

by C. R. Daems

  The next several days were almost relaxing. She met with Zeph. Neither of them had given the priests much thought over the years. They were part of society like everyone else and each had a purpose—the poor did the work, the wealthy provided jobs, and the priests provided protection from the First Ones. They never had a reason to consider the lives of the wealthy and the priests. She was glad they had each other to discuss their recent discoveries.

  Work with Wilorm could be fun except when he was taking her to task over what she thought trivial mistakes. Well maybe not trivial, but small—like adding the wrong spice over the meat or into a sauce. As her attention to detail increased, Wilorm let her handle making the ordinary stews and soups, if not the ones for parties and special guests.

  The best part was working with decorations. She made swans and flowers, which even Wilorm considered adequate. As she improved, he encouraged her to experiment on her own. Butterflies had a special fascination for her, and she worked hard to produce something she thought great and Wilorm would consider adequate. One day she spilled a coloring into her sugar mix by accident. Rather than waste it, she decided to finish her partially completed butterfly with it. The result astonished her. She had discovered color, and her decorations took on a new life.

  Her discussions with Tali had changed from her previous interest in her travels, old songs, and people of other cultures. Now there was something more urgent to talk about: the activities of the priests over the years, the differences in the current cultures of the empires, their languages, and how they made their laws. Tali’s knowledge was extensive, because she’d lived a very long time and had watched humans for centuries. Her insights revealed a whole new perspective of humans.

  As they sat up late at night talking, Tali told her that long ago the empires didn’t exist, only regions controlled by wealthy landowners with armed soldiers to protect their property. Over the years, these regions changed hands as their populations grew along with their need for more land. At that time, the First Ones were accepted as a part of the land. Then the wars started and the First Ones joined in the fighting. This went on for years and many thousands of people died. Eventually the humans negotiated a peace, which created the current three empires. However, the First Ones continued fighting among themselves. Eventually the Sprites, Firebirds, and the Seadragons separated, each going to one of the three empires. By then, the humans blamed the First Ones for the war and created the Priests of Roganista. The sole reason for the priests was to hunt First Ones. If First Ones were no longer feared, the priests would have no place and no power.

  After the wars, the priests had been the power and they ruled with an iron hand. However, as the First Ones failed to appear their power and authority waned. For the past twenty years, opposition to their authority had been growing, particularly among the wealthy who were reluctant to be subjected to the priest’s authority. For the poor it didn’t seem to matter as they were subjected to everyone’s authority.

  Liada met with Zeph every other night. She donned dark brown pants and tunic, making sure to renew her hair and skin dyes regularly. Checking herself in a mirror, she set off down Eddy Street toward the forest. She was near the forest when a black coach rumbled up behind her.

  Two men jumped out. l’Engrist and his driver. Pulse hammering in her ears, she backed towards the trees.

  “Well, if it isn’t the girl, what was her name? Oh yes, Liada. The one who was too lofty and superior to accept my silvers. That was foolish,” l’Engrist said as both he and the driver put on glasses to cover their eyes. “I’m going to have to teach you your place in life. I’m quite looking forward to it.”

  Tali was right about l’Engrist finding me.

  Her mind raced. There was only two ways to go: back down Eddy Street, which he blocked, or into the forest. But if Zeph arrived, she would be putting him at risk. Her mind was in chaos as she tried to decide what to do.

  L’Engrist grabbed her arm and slapped her across the face. Her head snapped back. She jerked in his grip. L’Engrist still had a vise-like grip on her arm. The driver grabbed the other arm and wrenched her upright. L’Engrist slapped her again and again. Each blow shot pain through her. Her head jerked so hard she thought her neck might break. She could taste blood from her nose as it dripped over her lips. She swallowed coppery blood from cuts in her mouth. The beating seemed to go on forever.

  He’s going to kill me.

  Then the hand coming toward her hung in midair, and everything grew dark.

  * * * *

  She awoke on the ground with a cold cloth over her face. Spots spun were before her eyes even though they were closed.

  Damn, I should have run. I should have fought. I should have done something besides just stand there like a stupid rag doll.

  She was afraid to remove the cloth for fear of what she’d see. She knew l’Engrist wasn’t interested in her cooperation. Just the opposite. He wanted her to beg and scream. He’d enjoy her fear and suffering. He was evil and she was at his mercy.

  “Liada, I’m sorry I couldn’t help. I almost interfered for all the chaos it would have caused. But you are safe now.” She could feel Tali sitting on her shoulder. Liada reached up and removed the rag to see Zeph staring at her, tears running down his cheeks.

  “Why didn’t you yell? I would have come. Your face. Your nose is broken. Your face is all cut and bruised.”

  “Did l’Engrist just leave me in the road?”

  “No, I don’t know what happened. I was waiting here when Emmund came, carrying you. He laid you down, and said he’d be back later. Then he said a funny thing. He said l’Engrist should never have gone down to Cain Alley. The place is filled with thieves and murderers.” Zeph wiped the tears away, leaving a dark smudge from the dirt on his face.

  She started to laugh but stopped quickly when her face and side stabbed with pain. Her stomach heaved and she struggled not to throw up. It was a minute before she could say anything. “I don’t think l’Engrist will bother anyone again.” She didn’t feel like talking any more. Her whole face throbbed.

  “You mean…” Zeph’s face turned even paler.

  “Yes.” They lapsed into silence, Liada resting her head on the soft leaves on the ground, and Zeph looking off into the distance.

  A long time later, Emmund slipped through the trees and squatted beside her. “Liada, you look terrible. L’Engrist wasn’t a nice man. Everyone knew but people of power tend to stick together.”

  Liada caught the subtle “was” and sighed. It was a relief to know he was dead. She would never have been free of his threat. Did not caring make her a bad person?

  “Thank you, Emmund.” She stared up at him.

  He made a little shrug of his shoulders and a corner of his mouth twitched. “Zeph, can you tell Emmund what we learned?” She closed her eyes. It hurt too much to talk. Zeph explained what had happened, about Imorla’s visits, congregating at the temple, and late discussions at Imorla’s house.

  “Did you manage to get names?” Emmund asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Of the people Imorla visited and the people on the list?”

  Her voice funny from her swelling mouth, Liada gave him the six names of Imorla’s friends. Emmund listened, nodding his head at some of the names.

  “I hurt too much to give you the names of the people on their list. I’ll write them down and give them to you tomorrow night.” Liada was tired. She just wanted Emmund to go away. He had saved her but... He was still scary.

  “I’ll help you back to the inn and get you a healer. It’s the least I can do.”

  “No, thank you. You’ve done enough for me tonight. Zeph will help me to a healer we know, and back to the inn. Go. We’ll be all right.” Liada couldn’t help a smile at the look on Zeph’s face, which caused Emmund to smile.

  “Are you sure? I’ll help you if you want me to.”

  She shook her head and with one last look at Liada, Emmund turned and left.

 
“Which healer do we know?” Zeph asked. “And how am I going to get you there and back to the inn?”

  “In time the healer will come,” she said and closed her eyes.

  She woke some time later when she heard Tali’s voice.

  “It is safe now. Can I begin?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “I will leave a little bruising or there will be too many questions.” Liada could feel the five sprites hovering around and Tali hovered above her face. Slowly, the air around her face began to glow. As it increased in intensity, Liada could feel her face become warm, then hot, and finally cool as the light faded.

  “What? How? The light. Your face…” Zeph was sputtering. Liada laughed this time and felt only a few twinges from the bruising.

  “I told you a healer would come. Zeph, the Sprites are healers.”

  “No healer I’ve seen can do that,” Zeph said.

  “They’re very good healers.” Liada giggled.

  “Liada, we must leave. The Quag will know we are here since we used our power. Please go. I’ll see you back at the inn.”

  Zeph helped Liada up and they walked back to the inn together. Liada kept wondering if she were evil not to feel bad about what had happened to l’Engrist, but she couldn’t help feeling relieved. It was nice to feel—well, not safe. But not quite so scared.

  One thing was sure. She was right about Emmund. He was a very dangerous man.

  * * * *

  With Tali’s help, Liada made the list for Emmund. The next day when she entered the kitchen, Wilorm jumped up and came over to her. He gently took her chin in his hand and examined her face.

  “What happened to you? Were you in a fight?” He frowned as he tilted her head to the side, inspecting her bruises.

  You should have seen them yesterday. She almost laughed at the thought.

  “I went for a walk last night like I do sometimes and turned down Haro Street. I was looking at the houses when two boys jumped me. I think they were after my money. They were smaller than me but strong. We fought. I would have lost except a man and a woman came along, and the boys disappeared down a side street.” Lying was safer for him than the truth. Especially when the men who really jumped her turned up dead.

  “Haro Street is usually safe. But sometimes thieves do drift into the better neighborhoods. Generally, it’s better to let them have the money.” Wilorm patted her on the shoulder and returned to the meal he was working on. “Come, I’m roasting ten partridges. The difference is in how they are stuffed.”

  Liada helped chop up onions, celery, and pork strips, which she fried in a pan. Later that was mixed with bread and seasoned with herbs, salt and pepper. The mixture was stuffed in the partridge and the bird was then roasted over an open fire with special wood chips from Pinedge. The smell made her mouth water. She was allowed a small taste of the stuffing, which she thought would have made a meal in itself. All in all, a good day. While the birds roasted, she carved ten apples in the shape of swans and Wilorm dripped melted chocolate on the plates. A feast fit for his special party of wealthy merchants.

  She left right after she’d finished cleaning up the kitchen. She tried to work out her mixed emotions about last night as she sauntered towards the end of Eddy Street. She was afraid of Emmund even though he’d helped her. He was a dangerous man willing to do anything to accomplish his mission. She thought he’d killed l’Engrist to protect her—his informant. His friend? What would he have done if she weren’t helping him? Maybe he would just as easily have killed her if she’d refused to go on helping him. She knew too much about him.

  She wondered how he felt when he killed l’Engrist. Excited? Sorry? Nothing? And how did she feel about l’Engrist’s death? Definitely relieved, for herself and her parents. She couldn’t bring herself to feel sorry for l’Engrist. She didn’t know what to feel. By the time she arrived at the end of the street, she had a pounding headache.

  “You look remarkably well, Liada,” Emmund said as she entered the trees. “In fact, I’d like the name of your healer. Your nose was broken. When I left, your face was already swelling and a dark red. A day later, your whole face should be black and blue. A good healer could have reduced the swelling, taken some of the pain away, and reduced the bruising.”

  Liada didn’t know what to say. At the time, she couldn’t have walked more than a few steps without fainting, and the pain had made her want to throw up. Tali had tried to leave enough bruises to fool Emmund. Obviously, he wasn’t fooled.

  “My healer is very old and very knowledgeable.” That was true.

  “Very skilled.” Emmund paused, studying her as though he was studying a new bug he’d just discovered. “Do you have the list?”

  “Yes,” she said, relieved at the change of topic. “Here.”

  Emmund took the paper and read it. He scowled as he looked up.

  “These are very wealthy and important people, either in the House of Laws, or have influence with them. Deaths of these people would certainly shift power in favor of the priests.”

  “Deaths?”

  “That isn’t an invitation list for a party. This makes the situation far worse than even I’d expected. This is not only a death list, it’s an indication of things to come.”

  Emmund frowned, his eyes paralyzing her. She could feel her body beginning to sweat although it was barely warm out. “My agents are the best, yet you make them look like amateurs. What are you, Liada?”

  What could she say? Lucky? “Does it matter?”

  “I’m afraid it does. Before your information, we were worried about the priests faking some incidents and claiming the First Ones had returned to reestablish their power. Now I see that the priests are planning to become the supreme power again. The only question remaining is how and where do you fit?”

  “I’m helping you?” Now she was afraid. She was sure Emmund didn’t trust her. He probably didn’t trust anyone. She knew she was in over her head. Somehow, she was in the middle of a struggle for power between people who would kill.

  He stood, still studying her carefully. When he smiled, she thought she would faint. It wasn’t a friendly smile, more like an “I know” smile.

  “Did you know the priests and the Quag are hunting for some First Ones?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “That’s funny. You seem to know most things. I think this time the hunt’s real.” He nodded. “I think they’re searching for you, Liada.”

  She stood there in shock. She was standing between two crashing forces—the Priests of Roganista and Gorlack security. And like last night, she was paralyzed and helpless. All she wanted was to have Tali as a friend and have a little adventure. But she had been sucked into a storm.

  She had to choose. “Yes.”

  “You’ve baffled me since I met you. That explains it. Would you like to explain?”

  “I saved a wounded sprite, who bonded herself to me,” Liada whispered.

  “It used its power to heal you, and that alerted the Quag?” A question that sounded more like a statement.

  She frowned, even more uneasy. He knew Sprites healed and knew the Quag could sense when they used their power.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “You are no longer safe here in Ostono. The priests won’t give up their hunt until they find you. Finding a Sprite would prove their claim that the First Ones plan an attack,” Emmund said. His stance had relaxed, his frown was gone, and the ends of his lips curled in a smile.

  “Where can I go? My parents and friends are here.” Tears stung her eyes.

  “I could use you in Sporish. That seems to be the logical trail to follow.”

  “I can’t go to Sporish. My family—”

  “What do you think will happen to your family if you’re caught? Or your Sprite friend? If you and your Sprite are careful, you may have a few more days to decide. While you’re deciding, you can you keep an eye on Sechael, the man going to Osshaft and Breeze Point in Sporish,” Emmund said and slipped
away into the trees.

  Liada swallowed hard. He was right about the danger to her family and friends.

  She strolled back towards the Travelers Inn, trying hard to look as though she had no cares at all. A couple walked past her, arm in arm.

  “Tali, do you know where Sechael lives?” Liada whispered.

  “Yes, he is a member of the House of Laws and lives on Upper Terrace Place, east of Drumm Road.” Tali landed on Liada’s shoulder. Tali was so light, Liada would never have noticed if her wings hadn’t brushed her ear.

  Tali was precious to her. Liada gripped her hands into fists; how she hated the priests. Then she loosened her hands and made herself smile. “Be careful, Tali. Upper Terrace Place is very close to the Roganista Temple.” The thought made her shiver. “Your life is more important than the information.”

  “We Sprites have been watching the priests for tens of tens of years. I bonded to you because of what you did for me, but our bonding has benefited the First Ones. It has alerted us to the priest’s plans. If they were successful, it would result in our destruction. I will have one of my circle fly upcountry to where other Sprites have retreated and alert them. Several circles will join us to help. If we can help you stop it without a war, we will be in your debt for all of our lives.”

  Liada felt Tali’s wing brush her cheek as she left. The touch warmed her.

  * * * *

  The next morning Liada went to the kitchen as usual. She had tossed and thumped her pillow all night thinking about having to leave Ostono, her parents, and Zeph. However, she still couldn’t stop thinking while she worked. As a result, she kept making mistakes.

  “Liada, taste this soup,” Wilorm shouted. She wondered what she’d done now. This was the third or was it the fourth time this morning? She walked over to the pot and sipped from the wooden spoon Wilorm was holding. The soup was very salty.

  “I don’t know what’s wrong with you this morning, but you’ve just ruined a pot full of soup. I can’t afford any more of your mistakes today. Get rid of the soup and clean up the pot. You’ve done enough cooking for today. Do you think you could carve a few decorations?”