by Bill Fawcett
Strangers were not normally welcomed into Karnuan towns, but Shadamehr, with his glib tongue and his charming manner, was never a stranger anywhere long. The guard who had begun by brusquely refusing them admittance ended by embracing Shadamehr with tears in his eyes. He gave them directions to the Revered Brother's dwelling and added an invitation to come drinking in the tavern when the guard was off-duty.
"What did you tell that man?" Alise demanded. She did not speak Karna. "I thought he was going to throw us out on our ears. What was all that hugging and kissing?"
"A Karnuan tradition when family members meet," Shadamehr said solemnly. "He is my second cousin once removed on my mother's side."
Alise stared at him. "I don't believe you!"
"Ah, but it's true, nonetheless. Someday I will explain. Let us make haste, before Revered Brother Ulien retires."
They secured rooms in the only inn in Cunac and stabled their horses. This done, they left in search of Shadamehr's childhood friend.
Brother Ulien's dwelling was a small house attached to the local temple. The brother was awake and very glad to see them.
"I would have known you anywhere, my lord," said Ulien, regarding his friend with pleasure.
"And I you," said Shadamehr with such heartiness that Alise knew he was lying.
"I could have walked past him in the street and never known it," he confided to her when Ulien had left to bring them food and water. "He used to be a tall, good-looking youth with curly black hair. Now he is gaunt and haggard and gone completely gray."
"He's probably saying the same thing about you," Alise said teasingly. "Especially the part about the gray."
"I am not!" Shadamehr protested. He drew forth the long black tail of hair that fell down his back and studied it by candlelight. "Am I?" His search for gray hairs was interrupted by the return of their host, who told them of his concerns over dinner.
"About a week ago, I first noticed the presence of Void magic." Ulien spoke in hushed tones, his red-rimmed eyes glancing furtively at the window as if he feared they might be overheard. "The feeling was overwhelming. I've known nothing like it. It was as if a black and noxious cloud had settled over the town. I cannot draw breath. I feel as if I am being smothered."
In truth, he gasped for breath constantly. His thin body jerked and twitched nervously at every sound.
"And you say that two strangers arrived in town at the same time?" Shadamehr asked.
"One of them a dwarf, my lord. A Fire Mage," said Ulien.
Shadamehr frowned. "I have never known a dwarf to have dealings with the Void."
Ulien gave him a sad glance, as if pitying such naïveté. "He is one of the Unhorsed, almost certainly, most likely cast out of his clan for some terrible crime. He might well be a follower of the Void."
"Possibly," said Shadamehr, but he appeared unconvinced. "And the other?"
"A newly appointed commander of the fortress. Since Karnu is a military state," he added for Alise's benefit, "the military commander is also the leading government agent in Cunac. He is an ordinary enough fellow, not especially bright, but he carries a most remarkable sword. The hilt is set with black and red jewels, as is the scabbard. Such a valuable sword might be worn by the Emperor of Vinnengael. What is a captain in the Karnuan army doing with it?"
"Is it tainted with Void magic?" Alise asked with interest.
"I do not know for certain, Revered Sister," Ulien answered with a shiver. "I have not been able to get close enough to find out."
"If so—and I must say that it sounds very much like a Void artifact—this would explain the sensation you are feeling," Alise said.
Ulien shook his head. "I am sorry to have to disagree with you, Sister, but I have been around powerful Void artifacts before and I experienced nothing like this. I have been physically ill over it. I am frightened all the time. I cannot eat. I cannot sleep." He held out his hands. The long fingers trembled and shook. "You see how it is?"
"Then what do you think is causing this, Ulien?" Shadamehr demanded.
"I think . . ." Ulien paused, then said in a whisper, "I think we are dealing with a . . . with a vrykyl."
Ulien waited tensely for their reaction. Alise looked at Shadamehr, who hid his smile by smoothing his mustache. Ulien gave a great sigh and closed his eyes.
"I feared you would laugh at me, my lord!" he said, almost weeping.
"No, no," Shadamehr said, soothingly.
"What are vrykyl, after all, but tales made up by old women? That's what they said in the Temple in Vinnengael. That's what any sane person would say."
"Old women are wise," said Alise with a reproving glance for Shadamehr. "And the truths they keep burning bright through the years are oftentimes the only light we have to guide our footsteps when the darkness comes upon us."
"I say this to you, Ulien, for your ears alone," Shadamehr added, "but we have come to Karnu because I received information relating to the return of the vrykyl to this world."
Ulien gazed at Shadamehr in awe. "Then certainly the gods have brought us together!"
"Perhaps. Perhaps not," Shadamehr said dryly. "What is it you expect me to do?"
"Why, rid the town of this evil, of course," Ulien said.
Shadamehr shook his head. "If this is truly a vrykyl, that is a foe beyond my ability to fight. According to the old wives tales, that is."
"It is said that perhaps a Dominion Lord could slay them," Alise remarked. "That has not been proven, however."
"But, sir, you are a Dominion Lord!" Ulien protested. "You served under a different name, but—"
Shadamehr smiled and again shook his head. "You are mistaken. I am not a Dominion Lord. I never underwent the Transfiguration."
Ulien regarded him with narrowed eyes. "The counsel voted to approve you. It was unanimous. The Emperor himself—"
"It is a long story," Shadamehr said, abruptly ending the topic of conversation. "As to the vrykyl, if they do walk this world"—he quirked an eyebrow—"they walk it safe from me. I came to gather information on them. Nothing more."
"Then we are lost," Ulien said in despair.
Shadamehr placed a kindly hand on the trembling hand of his friend. "You are weary. You have not slept in days. Alise will give you a potion to help you find rest."
Alise was already removing a small potion bottle from a belt she wore around her waist. She handed the potion to Ulien, explained the directions for its use.
"We will return in the morning," Shadamehr said, rising to his feet. "I would like to meet this dwarf and the commander, at least. You will point them out to me. Good-night, Ulien. Rest well."
"I will try, my lord," Ulien said unhappily. He held tightly to the potion.
* * *
"Vrykyl!" Alise repeated the word accusingly, as soon as they were well away from Ulien's house. "So this is why you brought me!"
"And you thought it was for your red hair," said Shadamehr.
Alise gave a little sigh, which he did not hear, for he was humming a dance tune to himself. The town's streets were empty. Windows in the houses were dark and shuttered. All the inhabitants were decently abed. Or perhaps not all.
"After all, you are the acknowledged expert— What was that?" Shadamehr asked suddenly, stopping and turning his head.
"What was what?" Alise said. She had been walking the street abstracted, absorbed in her own thoughts.
"Someone passed us," said Shadamehr. "He was keeping to the shadows, but I caught a glimpse of him in the moonlight."
"A vrykyl?" Alise asked with a slight curl of her lip.
"No," said Shadamehr, continuing to stare behind him. "A dwarf. And he was headed in the direction of Ulien's house."
"Which is the same direction as the city gate," said Alise in exasperation. "And the barracks. And the six ale houses we passed on our way. You know how restless dwarves are. He might be out for a nightly stroll."
"That's true," said Shadamehr, but he did not move.
"
If you want to traipse after him, do so," Alise said in exasperation. "But I am bone-tired. I mean to sleep until noon."
"He's gone. I don't see him." Shadamehr turned back and fell into step beside her. "You are probably right. Now, tell me all you know about vrykyl."
"I gave you my report in writing, my lord," Alise returned.
"Ah, but you know that I am no great reader," Shadamehr said with a laugh. "I glanced at it. I read enough to know that I want nothing to do with these fiends—or the old wives who made them up, for that matter. Tell me again. Just the main points."
Alise sighed, this time loudly, so that he would hear. "Very well, my lord. The vrykyl are creatures of the Void. Perhaps they date back to ancient times. We do not know for certain. All we do know is that when Prince Dagnarus turned to evil and became Lord of the Void, he received a most powerful artifact of Void magic known as the Dagger of the Vrykyl. With this dagger, he killed a living man and brought him back to life, granting him a horrible immortality. The vrykyl must continue to kill to maintain his life, feeding upon the souls of mortal beings. Lord Dagnarus created many vrykyl, who were constrained to serve him alone. Vrykyl wear magical armor that gives them strength and prowess in battle and immense power in Void magic."
"If the Lord of the Void had the ability to create beings of such power, I am surprised the world is not overrun with vrykyl," Shadamehr observed.
"Ah, but there is a catch," Alise replied, ignoring his bantering tone. "The man or woman who becomes a vrykyl must give free consent. He must be willing to choose death over life. And he dies with the knowledge that the magic may not work."
"All this happened two hundred years ago, you say, when Dagnarus was alive. And no reports of anyone seeing vrykyl since?"
"But there have been reports of mysterious deaths during those two hundred years, my lord," Alise said. "Entire families slain, their faces frozen in terror as if the last sight they saw was a horrible one. And every death the same—a single, small puncture wound to the heart. The mark of the soul-stealer dagger. Thus the vrykyl have remained alive, waiting—some believe—for their lord to return."
"Which, according to what we hear from the Dunkargans, he has. Well, well, this is all very interesting." He yawned widely. "Poor Brother Ulien. He was always a bit moonstruck. I think it must have whalloped him a good one this time."
The inn was dark. The landlord had gone to bed but had left them a candle to light their way to the not overly clean rooms.
"Good-night, Alise," said Shadamehr, handing her the candle. "My room is next door to yours. You know the code. Knock three times if you need me."
He entered his room and shut the door.
Alise spread out her bedroll on the floor, not trusting the bed, which was already occupied by at least one cockroach, who came out to glare at the light.
She put her hand to the wall, tempted to knock three times. But she withdrew her hand, after a moment. She closed her eyes and resolutely tried to banish the touch of his sensual lips, the glittering blue eyes and that ridiculous mustache.
A thunderous knock on her door woke Alise from a sound sleep. She could hear the sounds of crashing furniture and cries coming from the room next door. Roused and alert, she was on her feet, the words of a magical spell on her lips, when the door burst open and three armed guards entered her room. They were prepared to face an earth mage, for one immediately knocked the requisite spell component—a bit of earth—from her hand, while another clapped his hand over her mouth.
Once she was pinned, the guards removed the belt which contained her potions and vials of holy earth. They even had the temerity to pat their hands all over her body, searching for hidden objects, a task they enjoyed, by the leering grins. This done, they dragged her out into the hallway.
Shadamehr was neatly trussed and bleeding from a cut over one eyebrow. Two guards had tight hold of him. One of the guards was rubbing a swollen jaw and another nursing a cut lip. Looking past him, into his room, Alise saw another guard stretched out unconscious on the floor.
"Good morning, my dear," said Shadamehr. "Sorry about the early cock-crow. I told these banty-legged louts you wanted to sleep late but they wouldn't listen."
"I was having a bad dream anyway," Alise said. "What is all this about?"
Shadamehr shrugged and shook his head. There was no more time for talk. The two guards dragged them down the stairs, where the innkeeper stood pleading with a man in uniform, frantically disavowing all knowledge of them. A glance outside showed the sky just starting to grow pinkish gold with the dawn.
The uniformed man was tall and brawny, with the black curly hair and swarthy complexion of the people of Karnu. He wore trappings of a commander in the Karnuan military and he carried at his side a most uncommon sword.
Alise looked intently at the weapon. The hilt and the scabbard were encrusted with rubies and jet, set in a fanciful design. Since she could not touch it with her hands, she stretched forth her other senses to try to touch the magic. The taint of Void was palpable. She almost gagged with the corrupt odor. She shifted her gaze from the sword to its owner.
The dark eyes were flat and cold, small and mean. He had the sort of mouth that rarely smiled and then only at the sight of someone being hurt. But was he a vrykyl? Could she tell by sight? From what little she had read, she could not. Not unless he was wearing his magical black armor. For the vrykyl could take on the appearance of any mortal they chose and their victims would never know until the soul-stealing blade pierced the heart.
The sword, though. That was definitely of the Void. When Shadamehr looked at her with a question in his eyes, Alise nodded her answer.
"Take them to the prison," ordered the commander, the first words he had spoken.
"Excuse me, sir, but I wouldn't mind knowing why we are being arrested," Shadamehr said, his tone mild, as if this little misunderstanding could be easily rectified.
"You are under arrest for murder," said the commander.
"Murder?" Shadamehr was understandably confused. "We have murdered no one. We are newly arrived in town. We are friends of Brother Ulien. We were with him last night. You can ask him—"
Shadamehr's voice faltered and faded. For the first time in the months she had known him, Alise saw Shadamehr shaken.
The commander was eyeing him grimly. "So you admit it. You were with him last night. The last to be with him last night, it seems. He was found dead in his bed this morning. An empty vial, a vial that matches those vials"—he pointed to Alise's belt, now in the hands of a guard—"was by his bed. Proof enough that an earth mage was there."
"He did not die of what was in the vial, though, did he?" Alise asked.
The commander sneered. "You know well enough how he died, witch."
"Yes, I think I do. He died of a single, small stab wound to the heart," Alise said. "If you will look at the weapons we carry, you will find none that could have caused such a wound."
Shadamehr was silent, probably berating himself for having left his friend to die.
"Such a weapon is easily discarded," the commander replied scornfully. "And I have a witness."
"Of course, you do," Shadamehr murmured.
The commander rested his hand on the hilt of his jeweled sword. "A dwarf. We found him with the body, so at first we figured he was the killer. But then he told us he saw you two leaving the house and heard you speaking of the murder you had just committed."
"And so we were," said Shadamehr. "My companion and I were shouting it to the rooftops. We wanted everyone in town to know that we had murdered a man. I take that back. In fact, we were singing. My companion has a lovely soprano voice and I—"
"Shut him up," the commander growled. "It doesn't much matter who killed the brother. Maybe you and the dwarf are in it together. We have him in jail, as well. I'll have the truth eventually. I enjoy questioning people."
Grinning, the commander made a jerking motion with his thumb. The guard holding Shadamehr gave him a clout on
the head that reopened the wound over his eyebrow, started the blood flowing.
"And so, my lord," Alise said in an undertone, as the guards marched them off, "we have just been arrested for murder by the murderer. How are we going to get out of this one?"
"I got us out of the last one, my dear," Shadamehr said, grinning through a mask of blood. "Now it's your turn."
* * *
The prison cellblock was located beneath the military command post, a massive stone structure surrounded by high walls, containing a barracks, stables, a headquarters building, and a parade grounds. Lit by torches that sputtered in iron sconces, the underground jail also housed the "interrogation rooms" replete with various instruments of torture and, next door, the morgue.
"How convenient," said Shadamehr.
The body of Brother Ulien lay on a stone slab inside the small, cold room. The corpse had not been attended yet. He was still wearing the brown robes in which he had died. There was little blood, Alise noted with professional interest. A wound such as the one Shadamehr had described—small, penetrating straight to the heart—might not bleed much. The skin of Ulien's face was grayish white, the lips and nails of the hands starting to turn blue. The eyes were open wide. The face was hideously twisted into an expression of extreme terror.
"Stop!" Shadamehr ordered, as he was being marched past the morgue.
Such was Shadamehr's presence that the guards halted at his command. He shook off the guards and stood looking intently at the body of his friend.
"I am sorry, Ulien," Shadamehr said quietly. "This is my fault. Forgive me. Very well, gentlemen," he added magnanimously, "you may proceed."
Realizing that they had just obeyed an order given to them by their prisoner, the guards looked guiltily to see whether the commander had noticed, then quickly seized hold of Shadamehr and hustled him off.
The cells were located along opposite sides of a long, dark and narrow corridor. Large iron keys hung from hooks on the wall. The commander lifted a set of keys in passing and took down a torch to light their way.
