Sword of Shadows

by Karin Rita Gastreich

  “He has a strange way of showing his favor.” The sympathy in Rishona’s voice was tempered by an unsettling tone of curiosity.

  “This was no favor. Prince Mechnes thought I knew where Eolyn was.”

  “Do you?”

  “No.” Adiana pulled away. “He claims you want her dead.”

  “War is a time of difficult decisions. The maga poses a significant threat to our ambitions in Moisehén. Even so, for my part, I have long desired another destiny for her. You must remember that I loved her once, as did my brother. We treated her as one of our own, even offered her refuge among the Syrnte after Ernan failed. But she chose her path alongside the Mage King, and now all our visions coincide: Eolyn will not be swayed from her loyalty to him. So while I would prefer the maga to live, I have come to accept there is no other way.”

  “No other way?” Adiana responded in disbelief. “Is this the destiny of all those you once called friend, to die because there is no other way?”

  Rishona’s conciliatory smile cooled. She studied Adiana then regarded the girls with expressionless eyes. “I did not summon you here to question my judgment. Any other subject would have been whipped for less than what you just said. But you are my friend, Adiana. I understand what you have suffered, and I can imagine the heartbreak and indignation you must feel.

  “So I will tell you this: I have come to claim what is mine by right of birth. That is all. I would have seen this done through other means. Indeed, for years I fought to achieve it in way that would have kept all of you by my side, but this is the only path the Gods have left to me, and I must assume its burden.”

  “I pity you for your great burden,” Adiana said. “I can see how it makes you suffer.”

  Rishona set her jaw and looked away. She signaled one of her servants, who brought a cloak and set it about her shoulders. “These days have been long and terrible for you. You need rest and proper food before you can understand.”

  The San’iloman gave each of the girls an affectionate touch on the cheek, and then turned her attention back to Adiana. “My people have their orders. You are under my protection now. Stay here with the children, eat and drink as you please, rest in my bed until a proper place is prepared for you. No one will disturb you. If there is anything you want, you need only ask for it.”

  “Then I ask for our freedom.”

  A smile touched Rishona’s full lips. “Freedom is not always desirable. Protection is better. Tonight we will celebrate our victory in Moehn. A suitable gown will be found for you. I would have you sit at my table and drink from my cup, as we did in the happier days of Corey’s Circle. Afterwards, we will talk.”

  Rishona departed, surrounded by guards. In her wake she left a hum of activity: servants assembling furniture, airing linens, and setting out food. None of them paid any notice to Adiana or the girls. Adiana had the dismaying sensation that her situation had not improved in the least.

  “Shall we play a game?” Catarina clapped her hands. “The San’iloman has been teaching us the most wonderful game, on a board of ebony with little figures of men and monsters. She says it is played by all the nobility in Ech’Nalahm.”

  But Tasha pulled Adiana close and whispered in her ear, “I don’t like this place. Everyone pretends to be kind when in truth, they are selfish and cruel. Please, Mistress Adiana, you must take us home. I want to be with Maga Eolyn again. Please.”

  Adiana drew a breath intending to promise that she would, but then she held her tongue, though it broke her heart to do so. There would be no greater cruelty, she told herself as she wrapped her arms around Tasha, than to make a promise she might not be able to keep.

  * * *

  It was late when the guards woke Adiana.

  She had fallen asleep with Tasha at her side, having succumbed to the spell of soft cushions in a low-slung divan. Tasha was groggy and her hair unkempt. Even now she clung to Adiana as if resolved never to let go. Adiana rose quickly, pulling the girl up with her, self-conscious as always beneath the invasive gaze of Prince Mechnes’s men.

  “Catarina,” she called.

  The girl looked up from happy contemplation of the eight-sided cards Rishona had left in her possession, each painted with strange and colorful symbols. “You and Tasha must remain here and look after each other, do you understand? I will return as soon as I can.”

  “The San’iloman has summoned all three,” one of the guards said.

  “The children, as well?” Adiana frowned and looked past the men’s shoulders. Outside torches were lit, and the night was black. “But it is so late.”

  Their only response was grim silence.

  Adiana wondered why she insisted on questioning every order given her, when it was perfectly clear that as long as this nightmare continued, she would never be given a choice.

  “But I want to go along, Mistress Adiana,” Catarina said. “The San’iloman promised me there would be music and dancing and much food.”

  “She’ll turn us into food, I bet,” Tasha retorted. “She’ll throw us into an oven and roast us to crisp.”

  “Tasha,” Adiana admonished. “You must not scare Catarina with such stories.”

  “I’m not scared,” Catarina said.

  “Well, you should be!” Tasha shot back.

  “Enough.” Adiana smoothed Tasha’s hair and kissed her on the forehead. “I will not have you two bickering like angry geese, not after all it has cost us to come together again. The San’iloman has summoned us, and we must go. That is the end of it.”

  She reached out to Catarina, and the girl took her hand.

  A litter waited for them, draped in sheer silks as pale as a moonlit mist. The transport was elegant and luxuriously appointed, yet the sight of it made Adiana’s breath stop short. Her heart pounded inside her chest, and her hands were suddenly cold with sweat.

  The greater the kindness shown by these people, the more intense my suspicion.

  One of the guards shoved her forward, and she climbed in with great reluctance.

  “Mistress Adiana,” Tasha murmured as she took a place next to her, “what’s wrong?”

  Adiana forced a laugh. “The chill of the night cuts deep when one has recently awakened. I should have had some wine before leaving the tent.”

  “There’s wine here.” Catarina took the stopper off a silver flask and sniffed.

  “I don’t think you should touch that,” Tasha said.

  With an exaggerated roll of her eyes, Catarina took a drink. She proffered the flask to Adiana, who shook her head, overcome by queasiness at the thought of imbibing.

  “What do you suppose these are?” Catarina fingered several small baskets in front of her. A stifling aroma emanated from them, heavy with strange spices that reminded Adiana of the markets of Selkynsen. It made her dizzy.

  “Leave that be,” she said. “Remember what Maga Eolyn told you about unfamiliar herbs.”

  Catarina pouted but folded her hands and at last sat still.

  Above them hung a small cage with a white owl that screeched and fluttered its wings as the litter was lifted and born forward. Fighting off a wave of nausea, Adiana studied the bird, certain she had seen this image before. In a dream perhaps, or a nightmare.

  “Mistress Adiana?” Tasha’s voice loomed, then wavered and faded.

  A low rhythmic thud sounded inside Adiana’s head. She shut her eyes and pressed her palms against her aching forehead.

  “Are you not well?”

  “It is nothing.” In truth she was succumbing to an inexplicable wave of panic. A shower of black spots exploded in front of her eyes. “Do you hear something, Tasha?”

  “What, Mistress Adiana?”

  “Babbling. Like the hisses of a thousand snakes. Words I can’t quite understand…”

  A wintry chill invaded the marrow of her bones. Then a savage howl tore through Adiana with an agonizing pitch. Ebony claws reached toward her. Behind them, she saw gaping holes in ghostly and distorted faces. />
  Adiana struggled to escape the phantoms, feeling like a fish caught in a net, except she was being dragged deeper into the darkest of all seas, rather than upwards, toward light and air.

  “Help me,” she whispered, but the current was too strong. Tasha’s alarmed cries faded as Adiana was swept away on a river of shadows and terror. Tendrils of fog reached toward her, snapping in her face like rabid dogs, wrapping around her limbs and throat, then slipping away and returning to grasp at her again. Moans of hunger droned in her ears. The discordant roar was driving her mad.

  “Renate, please!” she screamed.

  The old maga whispered in her ear.

  Music is your magic. Melody is your spell.

  But what music could be found in this darkness? What melody in this awful chaos? Adiana forced air through her throat in an attempt to scream again, but no sound fell from her lips. The tendrils caught upon her like thorny vines, cutting into her ankles and wrists, pulling her against the current.

  A powerful stench invaded her nostrils, like the rot of a man many days dead. Violently she jerked away and found herself once again inside the litter.

  The silk curtain came into focus.

  Tasha’s voice sounded close by, calling her name in desperation.

  A woman leaned over Adiana, caressing her hair, murmuring strange words in a comforting cadence. Her face was drawn and aged, her gray eyes lined with kohl.

  “It has ended,” she said. “Come, you can get up now.”

  “What has ended?” Adiana pushed herself to a sitting position. “What happened?”

  The old woman watched her with a knowing smile. “Such beauty and power in your soul. They would take you without the San’iloman’s leave, if they could.”

  Tasha slipped her arm through Adiana’s. “No one is going to take her.”

  The old woman laughed. Her long hair was neatly braided and coiled. She wore a white robe with a jeweled belt, and a flowing cloak of many colors. Gold adorned her head and throat; earrings hung in a cascade of rubies over thin shoulders.

  “Who are you?” Adiana asked.

  “I am Donatya, priestess of Mikata and servant of the San’iloman. You will come with me.” She nodded to Tasha at her side and Catarina, who slept in the litter. “The children remain here.”

  “No!” Tasha cried. “You will not separate us again.”

  Donatya narrowed her eyes and nodded to the guards.

  One of the men pulled Tasha away from Adiana, another bound the musician’s hands. Tasha fought against her captor, kicking, clawing and screaming, until Donatya stepped forward and slapped her hard across the face.

  “Silence!” she said. “The Syrnte do not tolerate disobedient children. Any more fuss from you, and I will cut out your tongue.”

  Tasha whimpered and gave Adiana a pleading look.

  “Be a good girl, Tasha, will you?” Adiana said quietly. “Take care of your sister.”

  Tasha shook her head in denial, biting her lip to keep from speaking. Her legs were bound and she was put back into the litter, the curtain closed behind her, while they led Adiana away.

  There was music and song in Moehn that night, but not in this place. Donatya and the guards brought Adiana to small copse of trees well outside the ruined walls of the town.

  Adiana recognized the knoll. They had picnicked here on occasion with Lord Felton and his family, the adults sharing sweetmeats and bitter ale while the children tumbled in the grass. Ghemena had run wild with Markl and his motley street urchins, their laughter rising toward a bright summer sun.

  The happy memory ignited a sharp pain in Adiana’s gut. Those days felt like a distant dream now. Perhaps none of it had ever really happened.

  Torches illuminated their path. At the crest of the low rise was a large circle marked by a strange luminous wall. Inside the translucent blue flames, Adiana saw movement. As they drew close, lumbering beasts came into focus, pacing on all fours, ebony claws on their long glowing limbs. They lifted their formless faces in unearthly howls.

  Adiana cried out in terror, recognizing the monsters from her vision. In their midst, stood Rishona bright as the full moon, an obsidian blade lifted in one hand. At her feet, a girl heavy with child wept inconsolably, the tangled mass of her hair trapped in the unyielding grip of the San’iloman.

  Adiana cowered, resisting the forward momentum of her escorts. Rishona struck with such speed that Adiana did not understand what had happened until a river of blood flowed from the girl’s throat and she collapsed convulsing to the earth. The San’iloman stepped away from her victim, and the beasts fell upon their prey, ripping open her belly and consuming all they found within.

  Adiana’s knees buckled. She fell to the damp earth. Vomit spewed from her churning stomach. All power of movement abandoned her limbs. The guards took rough hold of her arms and dragged her to the edge of the circle, where Rishona stepped through the curtain of fire.

  “What is this?” Rishona cast a glance toward Adiana before assessing Donatya with a harsh gaze. “I did not ask for her. I sent for the children.”

  Donatya responded with a respectful bow, then drew close to Rishona and whispered in her ear, all the while keeping a hawk’s eye on Adiana. Rishona’s expression softened as the priestess spoke. A smile touched her lips. When Donatya finished, the San’iloman looked upon Adiana as if seeing her for the first time.

  “Sweet Adiana,” she said, “who would have foreseen that you would be the bearer of such a great gift?”

  Taking hold of the musician by a fistful of hair, Rishona pulled Adiana toward the circle. Her hands bound and useless, Adiana kicked and screamed, digging her heels into the earth and refusing to be ready quarry. A mailed hand came down hard on the side of her head, sending stars through her vision and renewing the taste of blood on her lips. She lost her footing and was dragged inexorably forward.

  Darkness spun around her. Thunder ran through the earth. She heard shouts of men and the clatter of metal. Violent hands, familiar in their cruelty, tore Adiana away from the San’iloman and threw her to the ground, well outside the wall of flame.

  “You do not have leave to make use of this woman!”

  Adiana spat blood out of her mouth, gasping for each precious breath. An unsettling scent filled the air, of spices and death and burning fields.

  Mechnes. That voice belongs to Prince Mechnes.

  “I do not require your leave, uncle,” Rishona said. “The creatures have called for this woman. They hunger for her like no other. She is the key to our prize.”

  “Prisoners and slaves do not choose their meals,” Mechnes growled.

  “The more magic we give them, the better they will serve us. And she,” Adiana felt Rishona’s predatory focus, “is a vessel of Primitive Magic.”

  A tense silence followed, broken by Mechnes’s audacious laugh. Adiana heard the approach of his heavy gait and winced as he lifted her face to the torch light.

  “A vessel of Primitive Magic.” There was amusement in his eyes, a sardonic grin on his face. Adiana thought the Gods especially cruel in that moment, that they would give this evil man such a handsome countenance. He released her as suddenly as he had taken hold of her. “I do not require a demon to tell me that. You, Rishona, have the young magas, and any other woman or child of this province that you desire. Those creatures will be satisfied with what we offer, or they will remain forever in their cold prison.”

  “Uncle—”

  “Take this woman to my quarters.” Mechnes told one of his men. “She is to be bathed and bound in the usual fashion, and left undisturbed until I return.”

  “I am your Queen!”

  Rishona’s angry declaration brought all movement to a halt.

  Looking up from her miserable state, Adiana saw Prince Mechnes and the San’iloman, eyes locked on each other and jaws set, their rage hot and foul like sulfur put to flame.

  Without shifting his gaze from his niece, Prince Mechnes said in deliberate ton
es, “You have your orders, man. Do as I say.”

  Adiana was pulled up from the ground and thrown over a broad shoulder. As they carried her away, she caught Rishona’s expression wavering in uncertainty.

  The San’iloman straightened her shoulders and said to Donatya, “Bring me the girls, then. And make haste. We cannot leave this portal open much longer.”

  Moments passed before the meaning of these words hit Adiana.

  “No,” she said as if coming out of a trance. Then louder, “No! Not them. Not Catarina and Tasha. Take me instead!”

  No one paid her any heed. The soldier who carried her continued his steady pace away from the circle of fire.

  Frantic, Adiana looked around as best she could, trying to remember where they had left the litter, hoping to catch a glimpse of the children.

  “Tasha!” she cried. “Catarina!”

  Their voices came to her as if from a great distance, anxious and garbled.

  “Stop!” Adiana wailed, all her fear and fury channeled into this one desperate entreaty. “Oh, for the love of the Gods, stop! You cannot permit this. Take me! Spare the girls, I beg you.”

  “Silence that woman!” Mechnes roared.

  A soiled rag was stuffed into Adiana’s mouth.

  Tears burned in her eyes. Every muscle cramped. Her entrails revolted as if about to be torn from her body. With bound hands she beat against her captor’s back, but each blow fell impotent. Exhausted by the horror of her helplessness, she paused and listened again for the girls.

  So few sounds came to her now. The steady thump of her captor’s gait. The hiss of torches. The distant music and laugher that floated toward them from the town.

  The labored rhythm of her own breath.

  Sweat soaked her bodice and formed rivulets that ran down her strained neck. She tried to look back toward the circle of fire, but already they were unbearably far away, moving at an angle that did not permit her to see.

  Please, she begged, hoping the Gods would hear this one silent prayer, spare them this. Let me go in their place. Please…

  Catarina’s and Tasha’s screams ripped open the night, shrill with terror, cut short by the bitter silence of death.