by Matt Gilbert
Most of the room’s occupants were in no condition to fight, but a few were at just the right level of intoxication to be foolhardy. While the others fled to cower against the walls, the bravos, a dozen in all, lunged for their discarded clothes and found their weapons.
It was a bloody, brutal fight. Most of the naked warriors were cut down before they could bring a weapon to bear, as the Southlanders took possession of the room. Four of the defenders managed a few, halfhearted swings before going down, one even being fortunate enough to put a huge gash on Sandilianus’s forehead.
And then it was done. The Southlanders still stood poised for battle, sweat trickling over their rippling muscles, eyes darting back and forth looking for more enemies. The corpses of the fallen twitched in death spasms. Some of cowering revelers whimpered and begged for mercy. Others stared about in confusion, absently wiping away blood that had been splashed on them during the battle. A few were struggling to clothe themselves, as if their nudity were the most pressing concern of all. Behind the great bed, Kariana’s lover still jerked at the bell cord in furious spasms, the ringing seeming much louder to Aiul now that the battle was over. Kariana herself was staring at him in shock, seemingly unable to believe what was happening.
Sandilianus wiped blood from his eyes, then turned to Aiul and pounded his fist against his chest. “By the grace of Ilaweh, we are victorious,” he announced. He gestured toward the bed. “Your prize, doctor.”
Aiul stood a moment, uncertain of what he should do. He had never really expected to succeed, and now that he was here, the doctor pleaded with him to preserve life, to have mercy. But the husband would not hear of it, and the jagged thing could not even understand what the doctor proposed, much less agree. Aiul hefted the mace and stepped forward. There could be only one conclusion, now, he knew.
Kariana seemed to suddenly understand as he approached. She drew a dagger from her robes and brandished it at him.“Don’t do this, Aiul!” she shouted, her voice high and full of fear, but defiant nonetheless.
“Lara might have begged similarly, had I not been there!”
“It wasn’t me!”
“Own your sins, bitch! You’ll be accounting for them soon!”
“There are things you don’t know! Things I can’t tell you! Damn you, Aiul, I love you!”
Aiul’s temples throbbed as if the jagged thing were bashing the inside of his skull with a hammer. Her arrogance was inconceivable! How could she lie to his face now, when she had told him exactly what she intended to do not a day before? How could she be such a monster as to claim to love him? She would do anything to save her miserable skin. “Save your lies for Elgar!”
Kariana’s ears perked up as the sound of approaching soldiers echoed through the room. “I offered you everything! And you bring enemies into my home to murder me! Elgar take you, monster!”
“’Ware reinforcements!” shouted one of the Southlanders, and the heavy double doors shuddered with a heavy impact. The Southlanders stood ready, waiting for the door to give way.
Aiul turned, distracted for only a moment, but that was all Kariana needed. She lunged at him with her knife, aiming for his throat. He managed to spin at the last moment, catching the blade in his shoulder instead, not a lethal blow, but enough to stagger him briefly.
Kariana ducked behind the bed and twisted a wall sconce. With a whoosh of inrushing air, a concealed section of wall slid back, and she vanished into the darkness beyond.
Aiul cursed silently, torn between giving chase and making a final stand with the Southlanders. He should have expected something like this. Tasinal would have taken care of his own just as Amrath had.
Sandilianus spared him the decision. “Go after her!” he shouted. “We will hold them as long as we can!”
The battering ram struck the doors again, and debris imploded inward. It would hold another blow or two, perhaps three, but no more.
Aiul nodded and leapt onto the bed to follow Kariana.
The passage was cramped, musty, and dark, and the ceiling was quite low, forcing him to stoop as he entered the passageway. Some fifty feet ahead, he could see Kariana, stumbling and cursing as she fled, and beyond her, a dim light source. It was impossible to judge how far away the light might be, but he was certain that it was an exit, one he could not allow her to reach.
It took him a moment and a few painful collisions of his head against the ceiling, but he quickly adopted a shambling, lurching stance that allowed him to make good time. Kariana was less adaptable. She cursed and stumbled along, keeping her left hand low and against the stone wall, as if she feared becoming lost.
Aiul gradually closed the distance, until at last he could hear her panting almost as loud as his own. She spared a look backward at him as he neared, her eyes wide and fearful, but defiant. She did her best to quicken her pace as he approached, but she was hampered by her stance, still keeping her hand against the wall.
He was almost upon her. He reached toward her, as he struggled to close the last few feet between them, and suddenly, Kariana lurched to a stop, her body straining forward and tacking to the left with her momentum. Her hand remained anchored in place, clutched about a small, innocuous lever that protruded from the cold, wet stone. It moved slightly, turning as she hauled on it with all her weight, and a sharp click echoed through the passageway.
There was no time to react, though it seemed to Aiul that what followed was painfully slow. He felt the wispy, ethereal surge of powerful sorcery wash over him, almost a sound, not quite a breeze, and the tunnel before him melted and twisted in the current. The stone gathered and massed like a wave of liquid rock, its base rising and pushing him backward as it crested and curled over, threatening to crash down upon him and crush him as easy a real wave might shatter a sandcastle.
Aiul fell to the ground and gritted his teeth, steeling himself against an impact that never came. The flow of sorcery trickled off into the ether, leaving in its wake an impassable barrier of stone.
Behind him, he heard the muffled sound of a pitched battle, steel ringing against steel, and men crying out in rage and pain. He looked back to see that another barrier, like the one before him, had erected itself to block his retreat.
He sat there in his newly formed prison, silent but for panting. He could hear Kariana gasping on the other side as well.
“Idiot,” she said in a dull, emotionless voice. ”Didn’t you think I would have an escape plan?”
“”Don’t strain your arm patting yourself on the back. Tasinal had an escape plan. Your possession of it is just an accident of birth.”
Kariana snorted. “Touche’. I’m a stupid whore, a fool ruining Nihlos, a murderess, a child. But I beat you.”
Aiul sighed in the darkness. So close. So very close. He listened to the distant sounds of battle, wondering how long the Southlanders would hold out. At least, he imagined, they would make a nice reckoning of themselves before they fell, and that was all they had asked for.
“It’s not over,” he told her, his words mechanical, his muscles feeling leaden as numbness began to creep over him.
“No,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “It never even started, did it?” To Aiul’s surprise, she began sobbing softly in the darkness.
Aiul closed his eyes, awaiting the inevitable.
Kariana sat alone in her room, trying to find a way to live with what had passed and what had to be done about it. She considered sending for Sadrik, but decided against it. She had been through quite enough abuse for one day.
The guards had taken Aiul away in chains. Only one of the Southlanders had survived. There was blood and gore all over the ballroom. She had to admit, it would have been a fine show had she not been the target. Perhaps instead of orgies, she would prefer gladiators, at least on occasion. We might even be able to combine the two.
There was no question about how this must be resolved. She could not allow an assassin to strike at her and live. Both Aiul and the surviving Southlander wo
uld have to die in a very public manner. There was no way around it. It was what Nihlos would demand.
And did it even matter? He felt nothing for her. He wanted her dead. The thought of it was like a sharp piece of rusty metal being shoved into her gut and twisted. She could almost taste it, a mouthful of copper and sand. She loved him. She hated him.
And none of it mattered, because she had no choices left for her, and no tears left to cry.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and a familiar voice called out. “Kariana? Are you okay?”
Kariana sat bolt upright in her bed. It was Marissa! That treacherous bitch! Mei, she will hear the screaming inside my head. Can I lie that well?
She decided that, while she could lie just fine, she had no desire to do so. She pulled her pillow over her head and refused to answer, but Marissa was persistent, and opened the door. Kariana cursed herself for being so stupid. Mei, you just survived an assassination attempt! What does it take to make you lock your door, fool?
Marissa cracked the door just far enough to fit her head, and peeked around it. “Kariana?”
Kariana pulled the pillow over her eyes, not wanting to see Marissa’s face. It hurt too much. It was the same as if she were dead. All of her friends, anyone she trusted, anyone she actually gave a damn about, all dead or soon to be. “I don’t want to talk to anyone.”
“Oh, honey, you can talk to me,” Marissa cooed. Kariana heard footsteps approaching, and suppressed a shudder. What a monster Marissa was. What a cold, mechanical thing, to feign friendship like this for so long.
I will not look at her. Which would have been fine, except Marissa had always been a toucher. The bed sank slightly as Marissa sat next to Kariana and began stroking her hair.
It was such an ordinary thing. It had brought her great comfort before, yet now, it was as if Marissa were rubbing shit into her hair. Her touch was repulsive beyond anything Kariana had ever known. It was all she could do not to retch.
“It will be okay,” Marissa said. “Everything will be ok.”
Kariana was no longer listening to her. The two voices in her head were drowning out everything else with their dispute
Her old voice, the one she knew so well, was saying, It will be done soon enough. Just let it happen. It’s easy.
But now there was a new voice, an angry, shrill, cruel voice in her head as well. It’s unbearable! Do something! That voice was tired of the blame and the accusation, and was ready to deserve some of the hatred directed at her.
I can’t! Sadrik said not to!
Fuck Sadrik! He doesn’t tell me what to do! This is all Marissa’s fault! She can’t get away with it!
“I have something for you,” Marissa said. “Do you want some water with it?”
Kariana nodded. She could feel the cold, hardness of Sadrik’s dagger against her breast. My one friend.
Now! the new voice screamed. Now! Now! Now!
Kariana let the pillow fall to the floor, and reached beneath her robe to clutch her blade. She watched as Marissa returned, one of her small packages in one hand, a glass of water in the other.
Marissa smiled and sat beside her again. “There you go! Hiding behind that pillow is no good. This will make you feel lots better.”
Kariana leaned in as if to take the glass as she pulled the dagger from her robes. Marissa regarded her warmly as Kariana lunged forward and plunged her blade into Marissa’s sizable belly.
Marissa’s smile vanished as her lips formed a perfect circle of shock and pain. She blinked several times and moaned softly as her hands fluttered toward the blade. Kariana snatched the weapon back, and Marissa slid off the side of the bed, clutching at her wound.
Kariana stood over her, the hate so intense in her breast that she felt she would burst into flames. “Bitch! Did you really think I wouldn’t find out?”
Marissa stared up at her in misery, breathing in short gasps. “I’m sorry, Kariana! I had to! They made me!”
“Made you?” Kariana felt a wicked smile creep across her face as she giggled like a girl. “What would they have done to you if you refused, I wonder, that this is the better choice?” She flicked the blade with her fingertips, sending droplets of blood flying. Marissa winced as they fell on her face like rain, mixing with the tears welling in her eyes.
“I wanted to be special,” she sobbed. “Like you! Beautiful! Important!”
There were no words to communicate Kariana’s wrath, yet she could not contain it. It burst from her throat, a roar of bestial madness as she fell upon her enemy.
Marissa raised her arms and grappled with Kariana, struggling to defend herself. She was considerably bulkier, but Kariana's rage made her a tigress. They rolled across the floor, screaming, Marissa in terror, Kariana in unbridled fury, knocking over Kariana’s vanity. Perfume bottles rained down, exploding as they impacted the marble floor.
“Bitch!” Kariana shrieked. “You fat fucking cow!” She slashed at Marissa with mad abandon, at her face, her breasts, any exposed soft spot.
Marissa wailed in agony as the blade bit into her flesh, leaving deep gashes. She rose to her knees, desperate to escape, but Kariana knocked her flat on her back, mounted her like a horse, and bludgeoned her head repeatedly with the pommel of her blade.
Marissa could no longer defend herself at all. Her head cracked against the floor with each blow. She mumbled through shattered lips, “Stop. Please.”
Kariana, exhausted herself, paused her attack. For long moments she sat astride Marissa’s unresisting bulk, panting and gasping from her exertion. Marissa lay still, covered in blood, eyes closed. She might have been dead save for the occasional twitch or moan.
“I thought you were my friend,” Kariana whispered, her vision clouding with tears.
Marissa looked up at her with dazed, unfocused eyes. “I am, Kariana. But I had to be loyal to my family.”
“You were like a sister to me. You were my family.”
“I’m sorry. We can fix it, can’t we? Now that you know? They were just guards. You said you didn’t care about them lots of times.”
Kariana felt a cold hand squeeze her heart. She wanted so desperately not to be alone that she had almost been fooled again. Marissa was still trying to cover up her part in the attack on Lara.
Kariana looked down at Marissa. There was so much she wanted to say, so many words, all meaningless, all just more opportunities for a snake to slip inside her mind once again. “I never cared about the guards.” Marissa’s face lit with hope for a brief moment, then fell as she looked into Kariana’s eyes. “Aiul tried to kill me because of your stunt with his wife. And now I have to kill him.”
“No! It wasn’t—!”
Kariana plunged her dagger into Marissa’s throat. Blood poured over her hand in warm jets. Marissa’s eyes grew wide, and she clutched at her throat as her life poured out of her, turning her head back and forth in denial.
“Goodbye, sister.”
Marissa’s face softened from fear to sadness as she accepted the inevitable. She reached for Kariana’s hand and squeezed. Kariana snatched her hand away and spit in Marissa’s face. “You ruined my life. You go to Elgar alone, bitch.”
Kariana rolled off her victim and lay on the bloody floor. She breathed in the bizarre mix of scents: pungent sweat, acrid blood, cloyingly sweet perfume. Exhaustion bore down on her as the adrenaline slowly ebbed away, the pounding in her temples and roaring in her ears giving way to blissful silence. Sleep is like dying.
She woke to shouts and the clang of armored boots on stone. Caelwen was staring at her, patting her face with a mailed palm. For a brief moment, she thought he was here to arrest her for her foul deed.
“Two assassins in one night,” he noted. “I’m impressed you survived even one. You’re quite the mess, Empress.”
“You missed the first one,” she said in a husky, sleep-dulled voice. She shrugged aside his attempt to help her to her feet. Any assistance from him was an admission of weak
ness. She raised herself on her arms and stood, her muscles still aching. “It was quite a show. I guess you had better things to do.” She glared at him, a silent accusation.
“I had to attend a wake. Several, actually. I filed the appropriate paperwork. Perhaps you missed it, in the excitement of preparing your orgy?”
Kariana considered saying something more blatant, but she was seized by a mad impulse to laugh. The blood, the shattered glass, Marissa lying dead on the floor, it all struck her as a great, black joke. She threw back her head and cackled like a wicked witch.
Caelwen eyed her warily. To her surprise and pleasure, he looked a bit unsettled, frightened even.
Good, she thought. If I cannot be loved, then fear will do.
Over the coming days, Tasinalta would teach all Nihlos the true meaning of fear.
Chapter 8: Judgment
Kariana sat alone at her desk in her private ready room, fists ground against her temples, trying to take stock of her situation and form a plan to move forward. She had closed the heavy, purple curtains against both sunlight and any prying eyes, wanting no distractions.
She was to hold court in less than an hour, a closed session with the house elders. It was her plan to call for the unthinkable, Aiul’s execution, along with the one surviving foreigner. How had this happened? Murders, assassination attempts, convoluted plots, all madness! And somehow, here she was, right in the middle of it. Life was supposed to be simpler. It was supposed to be fun and carefree, not a nightmare of mistrust and intrigue. What had she done to deserve this?
Nothing, of course. Nothing but be born. And for that sin, there was no forgiveness, nothing but misery and constant ratcheting of pressure. She felt as if her head would implode from it. There was no one to trust, no one at all. Well, perhaps the stone-faced, stone-hearted Captain of her Guard. He could be trusted to do his duty, and to stare at her with loathing and disapproval. Even now, he stood watch over her outside, doubtless praying a bolt of lightening would make an end of her and free him, but until then, still loyal.
