Daughter of the Flames

by Zoe Marriott

I nodded. The shrine was well hidden and could only be found by way of a handful of concealed entrances. Once inside it, the children and any nonfighters would be safe. There were too many people down there now; it would only take one or two Sedorne to get past the defenders and there would be a slaughter.

  We had to get the gate shut.

  I dropped the rake and reached for a cask of pitch. Before I could lift one, there was a scream of warning behind me. I turned to see a red-haired Sedorne break through the wall of defenders around North Gate. He headed straight for me – for the entrance to the House behind me – sword in hand. I sucked in a deep breath and quickly bent to pick up the rake, grasping the thick wood handle firmly. The Sedorne emitted a feral war cry as he lunged at me.

  I ducked under his blade and smashed the rake into his face as hard as I could, the strength of my swing limited by lack of space. He staggered and shook his head as I skipped backwards, then he recovered and went for me again. This time I came at him from my right, staying out of range of his sword arm, and swung the wooden shaft sideways, aiming for his temple. It hit true. The wood cracked sharply and broke in half.

  The Sedorne crumpled to the floor, where he groaned and rolled over, trying to get up. I bent, grabbed his shorn hair and smacked his face hard into the stone paving. I heard another crack. His nose. Blood spurted from his face and a spike of visceral satisfaction went through me. I smacked his head against the stones once more; he shuddered and was still.

  I wanted to hit him again – God, I wanted to – but I didn’t have time. Instead I dropped his head and quickly wiped my fingers on my breeches, then straightened, holding on to the splintered remains of the rake. I tucked a cask of pitch under one arm and ran to where the great taper jumped and rippled against the darkening sky. I reached up and thrust the broken piece of wood from the rake into the flame. The splintered end caught immediately.

  Holding the burning wood cautiously, I flew back up the stairs and along the inner wall to the lintel above North Gate, where Deo and the namoa behind the door were being forced back. The gap was wide enough for two men to pass through now, and it was only the spears and stakes that were keeping them at bay – in a moment there would be enough space for them to mount a charge and we would be overwhelmed.

  I crouched and put the cask at my feet, fumbling the cork out one-handed as I held the burning taper far away from my face. On my knees above their heads, I screamed down at Deo and the defenders, “Get back! Get away from the gate!”

  Faces tilted up in angered surprise. Then Deo saw me and let out a great whoop. “You heard her! Get back!” he bellowed at the defenders. He grabbed Mira and ran; the other temple people and namoa scattered.

  The Sedorne pushing against the gate let out a roar of triumph as it thudded open. I lifted the cask and doused the outlaws beneath me with the pitch. There were a few yells of surprise and disgust. Their charge stumbled to a stop as they looked up at the wall with belated caution. I shoved the taper into the opening of the cask, waited for the soft whoomph as the remaining fluid caught, and then hurled it down onto their heads.

  The wooden cask exploded as it hit the ground, splattering everyone in range with burning pitch. The flames spread rapidly, racing, blue white, from man to man, wherever the pitch had fallen. There was another whoomph as the fire took a great breath of new air and unfolded across the flagstones. Screaming broke out and the outlaws fell back, beating frantically at the fires on their faces, bodies and hair. Some rolled on the ground, shrieking with pain; others swore and cursed as they tried to put out the flames that engulfed their friends. For a second, the gateway was empty.

  “Close the gate!” I yelled.

  The namoa were already charging forward, leaping over the flaming patches on our side of the wall and shoving the gate closed with a resounding thud. Deo dropped the iron bolt, pausing only to swat out the small fires that smouldered on the wooden door. There was a ragged cheer from the Rua.

  “Barricade it!” I shouted. “Keep them out!”

  Deo shook a fist at me, already in action. “Get down off that wall before someone knocks you off it, girl!” he called up, pitching his voice over the screaming of the burning Sedorne outlaws.

  I realized I was shaking. I heaved myself to my feet, breathing through my mouth so that the smell of charred flesh that wafted up from below would not turn my stomach, and carefully made my way back along the wall. I feared my leaden feet might betray me and send me toppling off, even if no Sedorne had the presence of mind to pelt me with rocks.

  As I reached the bottom of the stairs, there was a smattering of applause from the Rua defenders who could spare a hand from their work barricading the gate. I lifted a trembling hand in acknowledgement and tried to smile as I surveyed the inner courtyard.

  One or two temple people were occupied in dragging the bodies of fallen Sedorne away from the entrance. Others were with Deo, piling heavy boxes against the gate. Rashna, slumped on the floor with Mira tying a makeshift bandage around a long gash on her forearm, raised her eyebrows as she saw me.

  “You never could resist showing off,” she said, “but at least this time you managed to make yourself useful while you were at it.” Her voice held little resentment. She was grey with exhaustion.

  Mira looked worriedly at me as I passed. “Do you know where Surya is?”

  “She was in the House a few minutes ago, ordering people into the shrine,” I said.

  Mira sighed. “Thank God. I hadn’t seen her since… I didn’t know what to think.”

  Deo stepped back from his barricade and came towards me, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “It was well done. Well done.”

  Before I could answer, there was a noise that seemed to make the inner wall shake, and froze us all in our tracks. The noise sounded again – a hollow, crashing thud – from South Gate.

  “What in the name of the Mother…?” Mira said.

  “It’s a battering ram.” Surya’s voice echoed down from the wall behind us and everyone in the courtyard looked up.

  There was a moment of silence, then the crashing noise filled the air again, making everyone jump.

  Surya walked slowly down the stairs. “They’re battering the gate. Soon they will bring it down; there’s nothing we can do to stop them. North and South Gates were not built to withstand a siege. That was the Great Wall’s purpose, and they’ve already managed to penetrate that.”

  The noise of the battering ram reverberated through the courtyard again as she reached us.

  She continued, “There are two hundred armed Sedorne out there. The only reason we are still alive is that they weren’t prepared for us to put up a fight and we caught them off guard. Now that the surprise has worn off, there’s absolutely no hope of keeping them out of the House of God. If we try to defend the temple we’ll all die. We have very little time.”

  “Time to do what?” Rashna said disbelievingly. “According to you we might as well commit suicide!”

  “Quiet!” Deo barked. “Let the noirin speak.”

  Rashna subsided, cheeks burning with dark colour in her otherwise ashen face.

  “Thank you, Deo.” Surya looked around at the people stood in the courtyard. Her eyes lingered for a moment on me, but her expression didn’t change. “You have to hide. Luckily we have the perfect place to do so – the shrine of the Holy Mother. I don’t believe the Sedorne could ever find the entrances no matter how long they searched, or get through them no matter how long they tried. You’ll be safe inside. When they enter the temple and find it completely deserted, they’ll think you’ve escaped through some hidden passageway; and after they’ve finished looting, they’ll leave.”

  “There isn’t enough room,” Joachim protested. “Not room for half as many people.”

  Surya shook her head. “Our Mother is closer to us in the shrine than anywhere else in this world. She will make room for you all. I don’t know how long you’ll need to be in there – you must have provisions. Mira, I wa
nt you to take some people and go into the stockrooms. Gather as much food and drink as you can, and take it into the shrine. Deo, you and Rashna must organize search parties. Scour the temple and grounds and make sure no one is hiding anywhere, too frightened to come out. Check the nurseries and the infirmary for anyone who can’t move by themselves. I will go into the tower. As soon as I see the Sedorne breach the gate, I’ll ring the bell. When you hear it, you drop what you’re doing and run for the shrine, understand?”

  Surya looked around one last time. “You have trusted me all these years, my children. Trust me again now. You will survive this. Go!”

  There was a murmur of voices – almost drowned out by the rhythmic thudding from South Gate – and general nodding of heads as the groups broke up and went about their assigned tasks. The faces I could make out in the gathering darkness were composed into expressions of grim resolve.

  “Zira.” Surya’s voice was hardly above a whisper, but it caught me as I turned away, intending to follow Deo. I stopped, my back to her, and waited.

  “Zira, come with me. To the tower. Let’s wait together.”

  I turned back to see her holding out her hand. I hesitated. Then I reached out to her, and her calloused fingers closed tightly around mine.

  “Come,” she said, tugging gently on my arm.

  I followed her through the darkness to the House. The oil lamps had not been lit; shadows draped the corridors like the folds of a carelessly dropped cloak. Our footsteps echoed as if we walked in an empty place. We passed the octagon room and my little cell, and mounted the winding steps to the tower in the waiting silence, our hands linked. The warmth of Surya’s skin against mine seemed the only real thing, the only living thing, in the House.

  When we reached the top of the tower Surya released me and went to stand at one of the open, unglassed windows that circled the walls of the round tower room. I glanced up as I crossed the floor, but the shape of the giant bronze bell was hidden by the darkness in the domed roof. Only the rope that dangled down in the centre of the room revealed its presence.

  I joined Surya at the window and leaned out. Someone had set the great tapers against the inner wall burning, and they threw the emptiness of the inner courtyard into stark relief. Between the Great Wall and the inner wall, the Sedorne had lit their own fires. The deep, regular thudding noises from South Gate drifted up to us clearly, but all else was eerily quiet. A chill shot up my spine and I clenched my teeth.

  “Why are they doing this?” I whispered.

  I sensed Surya looking at me, but couldn’t make out her face in the gloom. “Abheron’s been waiting for a chance to get rid of us for years. I don’t know why now, instead of five years ago or five years hence. It’s just … fate, I suppose.”

  “But those men are outlaws…” My voice trailed off as I remembered the attack on Sorin.

  “I’d be surprised if any of them had their hair shorn more than a week ago.”

  The chill crept down my spine again. “If their king himself is behind this – what will happen when he realizes he didn’t succeed in destroying us?”

  She sighed, the sound small and weary. “I don’t know, Zira. I don’t know. Just concentrate on getting through tonight.”

  We said no more, and for long moments the ominous sound of the battering ram was the only noise in the little room. Finally I broke the silence.

  “Surya, what you said earlier, about my name—”

  “No, agni.” She cut me off so swiftly that I realized she had been waiting for me to ask. “I know now that I was wrong to tell you that.”

  “Surya—”

  “Please, Zira. Please. God took your memories for a reason. It’s not up to me to tell you what I know, but for Her to restore the knowledge to you.”

  I was silent again, struggling with equal parts anger, disappointment … and relief. Coward! I scolded myself. Have the bravery to demand an answer. You need to know who you are!

  Surya stepped closer to me, one of her hands grasping my shoulder. Her voice was pleading as she spoke. “Listen, agni. That night – the night you were given to me – it was as if you were born again, made new in God’s fire. From that moment you were mine, my own daughter: a daughter of the flames. Remember that, Zira. You have always been mine, in my heart.”

  There was a deafening crash from below. Our heads jerked round to see the barricade at South Gate disintegrate – the tip of the ram smashed through the wooden gate in an explosion of debris.

  “Surya! The bell!”

  She was already turning, seizing the long rope and hauling on it for all she was worth. The rich, laughing tone of the bell rang out, hideously out of place against the undulating war cries and crashing noises coming from below us.

  “Go!” she shouted as she released the rope.

  I clattered down the stairs with her on my heels, heading for the entrance to the shrine set at the base of the tower. We skidded to a halt before what looked like a solid wall; Surya stood on her tiptoes and pressed two plain stone blocks in the wall over her head, then another one near the floor. There was a sullen grating noise.

  The entrance did not open.

  The muffled crash of splintering wood echoed clearly up the stairs. The doors to the octagon room! They were in the House.

  “Why won’t it open?” I cried, staring at the stubbornly closed entrance.

  Surya stepped back. Her face had gone blank. “Fate strikes again,” she whispered. “You open it.”

  “What?” I gaped at her for an instant, but there was no time to argue, and I was already stepping forward as the cries of the Sedorne began to echo up the stairs behind us. I pressed the two stones above my head and then kicked the lower one with my foot.

  The door grated again. Slowly, grudgingly, it began to open.

  “What’s the matter with it?” I squeezed my fingers into the narrow gap and pushed with all my might, trying to force it open.

  “I don’t know, Zira,” Surya said, her voice strangely even. “Keep trying.”

  I glanced back and saw that she had drawn a long knife from her belt, turning to face the stairs. Shadows were swarming up the steps towards us. They would reach us any moment. Oh God. Holy Mother – open the door!

  I strained against the door with all my might. It juddered; the mechanism let out a high-pitched squeal. Then whatever was blocking the runners gave way and it slid back with a loud crunch. I fell forward, steadied myself against the wall and swung round with a sob of relief – in time to see the first Sedorne warriors spill into the corridor. They let out wild howls of battle rage as they caught sight of us. Surya lifted her knife and eased into a fighting stance.

  “Come on!” I yelled, grabbing her knife arm.

  She tore her gaze from the Sedorne and looked behind her. She froze as she saw the open entrance, her expression disbelieving. “It opened,” she breathed.

  One of the outlaws leaped forward, his war cry echoing off the walls as he loomed over us, sword raised. Surya wrenched her arm away from me, but too late. Her dagger slid off his blade with a squeal of metal and a trail of glowing sparks. The sword slashed down.

  There was a heavy, wet thud.

  I heard the breath leave Surya in a hollow whistle. She staggered back against me, knocking me off balance; we both toppled through the entrance to the shrine. I landed against the wall with her on top of me. The Sedorne stepped into the opening, his sword raised again. Instinctively my foot lashed out. It hit the stone panel in the floor.

  The heavy door shot into place, trapping the outlaw’s hand against the wall with a horrendous crunching of bones. I heard his scream of pain. The sword clattered from his smashed fingers and his hand was wrenched back out of sight. The narrow gap disappeared and the entrance sealed with a final thud.

  I scrambled out from beneath Surya, easing her down onto the floor. She let out a broken, choked cry of pain as I moved. Horrified, I saw blood pulsing from her chest, black in the shadows, spilling over her h
abit like dark water. The horrible warmth soaked into my breeches as I kneeled beside her, spurted through my fingers as I tried to staunch the flow. She shuddered under my hands, her limbs twitching spasmodically.

  “Don’t move, Surya… Surya – please, please!” I begged.

  One of her hands came up and clutched at mine, nails digging painfully into my skin as she struggled to speak. “The price…”

  A bubble of blood broke on her lips, and the droplet of dark liquid ran along her cheek to pool under her eye like a tear. She made a little noise: half sob, half cough. It might have been my name. Her fingers lost their grip on my hand and I caught at them as they fell away.

  “Surya, no!”

  The breath slid from her in a long sigh and she went limp. Her head lolled sideways, eyes glinting in the dim light. There was nothing in them. I stared down at her, the blood warm under my fingers, my heart crashing in my ears.

  Then something seemed to burst inside me. A great howl of grief exploded from my lips and I lifted her, cradling her body. She weighed nothing. Her head rolled against my shoulder and her legs dangled over my arm as I staggered down the worn steps to the shrine, keening like a wounded animal.

  Before long, light and voices reached me. People rushed out of the shrine to see what the noise was – and then fell back, white-faced and stricken, as they saw Surya, lying in my arms. My voice died as I walked through the crowds of temple people and namoa into the golden light. Silence rippled ahead of me until the shrine was utterly still.

  Then Deo was there. He reached out and gently lifted Surya’s body from my clutching fingers. His dark, hard face was streaked with tears.

  “There, now … there…” he crooned softly, whether to me or to Surya I did not know.

  As her weight left my arms, my knees buckled. Someone caught me as I fell and eased me down to the ground. Blankets were draped around me. I heard Mira talking, but could not make out the words, or even her face. People came and went. They spoke softly to me, touched me. I couldn’t make myself respond. I had gone away.

  I lay, Surya’s blood crusting on my hands and clothes, unable to move, hardly breathing. Perhaps I was dying.