“What do they do with necromancers?” said Tamara.
Selene grinned. “They eat necromancers.”
Krastikon snorted. “I suppose that’s one way to deal with them.”
“Anyway, the Maledictus of Life has them all convinced that he’s the Janaab Kal, the incarnation of one of their warrior-gods,” said Selene. “The idiots think those abominations he raised from the dead are some sort of holy miracle, and they’re fanatically devoted to him. The Maledictus of Life has gathered a vast horde of jastaani, and they’re waiting on the other side of the Tower Mountains to invade Owyllain. I don’t know what the Masked One intends for them. Maybe he’ll use them against King Hektor, now that Hektor has nearly reconquered the Nine Cities. Or maybe he’ll use the jastaani against Urd Maelwyn and rid himself of the Confessor.”
“That explains why the Confessor hasn’t marched out to fight King Hektor,” said Tamlin. Selene nodded. “He’s more concerned about the Immortal One and the jastaani.”
“Does the Confessor know that the Maledicti are plotting against him?” said Calliande.
“Oh, yes,” said Selene. “My father is many things, most of them bad, but he is definitely not a fool.”
Ridmark grunted. “But isn’t the Maledictus of Water…”
“Terzhalkar,” said Selene.
“Isn’t this Terzhalkar one of the Confessor’s advisors?” said Ridmark. “In the Nine Cities, most believe that the Maledicti are the Confessor’s allies.”
Selene grinned. “Yes, again, Shield Knight. The Confessor and the Maledicti know they’re going to betray each other someday. But for now, they work together and plot against each other. But the Confessor knows they will turn on him one day. Just as Urzhalar abandoned Justin Cyros to die at the Battle of the Plains.”
“The Maledictus of Earth was forced to withdraw,” said Ridmark, remembering that terrible battle. “Third cut off his…which arm was it?”
“Left arm,” said Third.
Selene blinked and then burst out laughing. “You did that?”
“I did,” said Third.
“So that was what happened to his arm,” said Selene. “I wondered about that. He grafted a new one, of course, but he was annoyed at the necessity.”
“I suspect we may have lingered here long enough,” said Tamlin. “Perhaps Lady Selene could answer further questions as we travel.”
“Hmm?” said Selene. “Yes, that is a good idea. The Maledictus of Life will have a trap waiting for us at the monastery, but if we dither too long, he will come out to find us.”
“Well, we wouldn’t want to disappoint the Immortal One, would we?” said Ridmark. “We’ll head for the monastery, and we should reach it…Tamlin?”
“Tomorrow,” said Tamlin, his voice distant as he looked to the north. “If we stop and rest for the usual amount of time, we’ll reach the monastery’s ruins tomorrow.”
“Very well,” said Ridmark. He tapped the end of his staff against the stony ground. “We’ll stay together for the rest of the way. No scouting. When the Maledictus of Life hits us, we’ll have better odds if we’re all together.”
“I’m really looking forward to that,” said Selene. She grinned, but her eyes glittered like silver knives. “I want to see the expression on his ugly pompous face when he realizes what happened to me. Well, I won’t be able to see his expression because of that stupid jade mask, but his reaction will nonetheless be entertaining.”
“Then we’ll endeavor not to disappoint,” said Ridmark, glancing around the barren hills. “Let’s…”
“Shield Knight, Keeper,” said Selene.
They looked back at her.
“What is it?” said Calliande.
“There are two more things I must say before we set out,” said Selene.
“Go ahead,” said Ridmark.
Selene took a deep breath. “Thank you for my life. You and the Keeper and Lady Third. You would have been within your rights to kill me. In your position, I would have killed me, but you did not. Thank you for that. I…I owe you a debt, and I will repay it.”
“You owe us nothing,” said Ridmark. “Third thought you could be liberated, and I trust her.”
“And I understand,” said Third, her voice soft. “What it is like to be an urdhracos, to be enslaved to the will of another.”
“You do,” said Selene. “Are we sisters? No, that isn’t right. We had different fathers. Though the dark elven nobles were all inbred to a ridiculous degree and indulged in adultery as often as treachery. I suppose that means we are…” Her face brightened. “Cousins! We are cousins. Well, cousin, I shall follow you and the Shield Knight against the Maledicti to victory or death, though preferably the former.”
“Selene,” said Calliande, before Selene could take off on yet another tangent. “What was the second thing you had to tell us?”
“What? Oh, yes,” said Selene, and her expression hardened. “The Maledicti are certain of victory.”
“That isn’t surprising,” said Ridmark. “They always seem confident.”
“It’s more than that,” said Selene. “I don’t know all their secrets, but I’ve been listening to them for years. But they are certain, utterly certain, that the New God is going to arrive and enslave the world within the next two years. Maybe before the end of this year.”
Silence answered her.
“Well,” said Ridmark. “We’ll just have to make sure they’re disappointed, won’t we?”
Chapter 13: Regeneration
They spent the rest of the day traveling north, following the road laid down by the ancient gray elves. The sight of every hill and mountain brought back bad memories for Tamlin. He remembered stumbling along this road in chains, the dvargir slavers moving up and down the line with whips to keep their captives moving. He remembered weeping for his mother, remembered wishing for death.
Death hadn’t come. There had been years of torment instead.
Tamlin regretted ever coming back to these damned hills.
But there hadn’t been much choice, had there? He was a Companion of King Hektor and an Arcanius Knight. He had his duty to his King and his Order, and that duty had brought him here, far from the borders of Owyllain, to the foothills of the Tower Mountains.
Where, as it happened, his mother had brought Tamlin and Tysia to grow up.
He wondered why.
And if all went well, he might get to ask her in person tomorrow.
Tamlin tried to keep the fear and the bad memories from his mind with limited success. It helped that they were in a dangerous place, that he had to remain vigilant and watch for foes. It also helped that Tamara was with him, and her presence helped keep the shadows from festering inside his mind. He needed to keep his mind clear to defend her if the need arose.
And, if he was honest with himself, the stark bafflement over their new traveling companion helped.
Tamlin wasn’t sure what to make of Selene.
Third was taciturn, grim, almost dour at times, and generally only spoke when necessary. Tamlin attributed that to her time as an urdhracos, though she seemed somewhat more relaxed since the victory at Cathair Caedyn. Selene, on the other hand, was downright loquacious. Tamlin supposed that Selene’s close knowledge of the Masked One and the Maledicti would make her an invaluable ally, but the woman liked to talk, sometimes about nothing at all.
For that matter, she didn’t seem quite sane, but then she had been an urdhracos for a quarter of a century.
“No, Lord Ridmark’s done this before,” murmured Tamara when Tamlin mentioned it to him. Ahead, Selene burst out laughing at one of Magatai’s tales. “In Cathair Selenias, I asked him how many of his friends tried to kill him on the day they met him.”
Tamlin blinked. “Does that happen to him often?”
“He had to stop to think about it, so…apparently it does,” said Tamara.
“Well,” said Tamlin, “there was Calem. He tried to kill us twice. And Krastikon at the Battle of
the Plains. Third tried to kill him when she was still an urdhracos. I think some of his friends in Andomhaim tried to kill him as well. Odd way to meet people."
Tamara raised an eyebrow and smiled. “Compared to how we met? I had never seen you before, but I knew you as well as I know myself.”
“You may have a point,” conceded Tamlin.
“I think we can trust Selene,” said Tamara. “She clearly hates the Maledicti and wants to repay them for her suffering.”
“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” said Tamlin.
“Something like that,” said Tamara. “And you get along well with Krastikon now, and he tried to kill you a couple of times.”
“You’re probably right,” said Tamlin, taking another look around the hills. Nothing moved on the barren slopes. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”
“Are you?” said Tamara.
“No,” said Tamlin. “I spent all those years thinking my mother was dead…and now I don’t know what I’ll say to her. But it must be harder for you.”
“She’s not my mother,” said Tamara.
“But I know who I am,” said Tamlin. “I know who she is.” At least, he thought he knew who his mother had been. Given that he had yet to meet anyone who had warm memories of Cathala, Tamlin had started to wonder. “But she’s going to tell you who you really are…”
“I know who I really am,” said Tamara. “I’m Tamara Earthcaller of Kalimnos, the wife of Sir Tamlin Thunderbolt. Nothing she can tell me will change that. She can only tell me who I was.”
Tamlin reached over and squeezed her hand. “That seems wise.”
She squeezed back. “I’m scared, too.”
Tamlin opened his mouth, closed it, smiled at her. “I’m an Arcanius Knight. We fear nothing. But…we’ll face it together.”
“Yes,” said Tamara, and she smiled back. “Together.”
That night they stopped atop another broad foothill. Dark memories went through Tamlin at the sight of it. The dvargir slavers had stopped here the first night after the Monastery of St. James had burned, and Tamlin had cried himself to sleep, at least until the dvargir guards had beaten him and told him to shut his mouth. He didn’t want to remember that, but remember it he did.
“How much farther, do you think?” said Ridmark.
Tamlin shook off the dark memories. “No more than six or seven miles.”
“Perhaps we should press on and reach the monastery,” said Third.
Ridmark hesitated and then shook his head. “No, if we do, we’ll get there in the dark. We might blunder right into whatever trap the Maledicti have prepared for us. Or we might miss the monastery entirely.” He sighed and rolled his shoulders beneath his armor, and Tamlin saw the fatigue on the older man’s face. Ridmark seemed indomitable, but they had just walked from Aenesium to Cathair Caedyn to the Tower Mountains, and they had fought several major battles. The exertion had to be telling on him.
God knew it was telling on Tamlin.
“And better to face whatever awaits us with a good night’s sleep,” said Tamlin.
Calliande yawned and covered her mouth. “I quite agree.”
Calem took the first watch, and Tamlin lay down atop his cloak, gazing up at the sky. Only one of the thirteen moons were out tonight, which meant he had no trouble seeing countless stars scattered overhead. Tamara lay next to him, one arm resting on his chest.
“I’m here,” she whispered. “If you need me,”
Tamlin smiled. “The others are a dozen paces away. They’d hear everything.”
He caught the flash of her smile in the gloom. “We’d make poor Kalussa blush again.” She hesitated. “But if you have nightmares…”
“Or you,” said Tamlin. “I’m here if you need me.”
They fell asleep in each other’s arms.
And in his sleep, Tamlin dreamed.
It was a strange, disjointed dream, full of images and scenes that made no sense. In one he saw barren mountains, the sky burning overhead with strange bands of blue flame. In another he walked through a barren forest, mist swirling past the dark trunks, red eyes glaring at him through the gloom.
Then he saw the Dark Lady.
Tamlin could just make her out. She stood in a ring that seemed to be made of chained blue fire or perhaps dark menhirs. The Dark Lady looked as she always did, black-haired and black-eyed, clad in wool and leather, a tattered cloak of green and gray and brown strips hanging from her shoulders. In her left hand she held a dark staff carved with sigils, and sometimes both her black eyes and the sigils of her staff flashed with white light. Usually, her expression was calm and aloof, but now it was tight with strain as if she was lifting a heavy weight.
And her lips were moving like she was speaking. No, she was shouting at the top of her lungs. Despite that, Tamlin could not hear her, but as he stared at her, he could just make out one word upon her lips.
“…collar…”
Then someone shook his shoulders, and Tamlin awoke with a gasp.
It was still dark out, and he was lying on his cloak. Tamara knelt next to him, concern on her face, her hands grasping his shoulders. Calliande stood on his other side, frowning at him.
“What?” said Tamlin at last, trying to focus his confused mind. Had he been dreaming? For an instant, he remembered something, a barren forest, a ring of black stones…
“You were having a nightmare,” said Tamara, stroking his forehead.
“And you were having a nightmare so forcefully that you were starting to cast a spell in your sleep,” said Calliande. “Again.”
Ridmark came to stand next to his wife, and Selene appeared behind him, peering curiously at Tamlin.
Tamlin grimaced. “God, was I shouting in my sleep again?”
“Loud enough to wake everyone,” said Selene with good cheer. “Except me. I was awake and appreciating the view of the stars. They’re so clear up in the hills, aren’t they?”
“Again?” said Tamara, alarmed. “This has happened to him before?”
Tamlin sighed and sat up. “Once, that I know about. It was right before we left Aenesium for Kalimnos. I think…I think the Dark Lady was trying to warn me about something, but I don’t know what. She hasn’t contacted me since before we fought Taerdyn.”
“Dark Lady?” said Selene.
“She seems to be a spirit that appears in Tamlin’s dreams and warns him of danger to come,” said Calliande. “At least, she used to.”
“Dark Lady,” murmured Selene. “Interesting. She communicates through your dreams, you say? That seems highly inefficient. Writing a letter would be easier.”
“Do you know who she is?” said Tamlin, a surge of curiosity going through him. The half-mad former urdhracos knew so many secrets. Would she know one more?
“No,” said Selene. “Well…maybe. No. But…perhaps.”
“I’m afraid that is less than clear,” said Calliande.
“Alas, regrettably so,” said Selene. “But there is something. Several months ago, five of the Maledicti and the Masked One himself gathered to deal with the Guardian.”
“I assume they were trying to kill Rhodruthain?” said Ridmark.
“They have tried several times,” said Selene. “Usually when all seven of them gather with the Masked One, they try to kill Rhodruthain or find a way through the wards around Cathair Animus. Rhodruthain’s a crazy old madman, but he’s clever, and he’s managed to stay ahead of them so far. But when five of the Maledicti gathered a few months ago, the Masked One said they would neutralize the Guardian, and Khurazalin said he looked forward to dealing with her.”
Tamlin felt himself frown. “Her?”
“That is what they said,” said Selene. “But they did not confide in me, save to give me instructions.”
“Then there is a second Guardian of Cathair Animus?” said Ridmark.
“Or perhaps a Guardian of another location,” said Selene.
“God save us,” said Calliande, her annoyance plain. “A
second one? One fool of a Guardian was enough. But two?”
That was harsher than Calliande usually spoke, but Tamlin knew she still hadn’t forgiven Rhodruthain for putting her children in danger. As calm as Calliande almost always was, that calm vanished like ice in a furnace when her children were threatened.
“This second Guardian must not be very effective,” said Selene, “if she can only communicate with one Arcanius Knight in his dreams.”
“Her warnings were always effective, though,” said Tamlin. “That nightmare I had in Aenesium…I wonder if she was trying to give us advance warning of the trap the Maledicti had set for us in Kalimnos.”
“Then if you were dreaming now,” said Ridmark, “was she trying to warn you of a trap at the Monastery of St. James?”
That was a disturbing thought.
“I don’t know,” said Tamlin.
“It changes little,” said Calliande. “We still know there is a trap waiting for us at the Monastery of St. James, and we still have to walk into it.”
“Yes,” said Tamlin. “We’ll just have to be careful.”
Yet he could not escape the feeling that he had just missed something important.
###
The next day they continued north.
Ridmark led the way, the wood of his staff smooth and warm against his fingers. His other hand hovered near Oathshield’s hilt, ready to draw the soulblade if any enemies presented themselves. The others followed him, weapons ready, their eyes scanning the countryside. No one talked, and even Selene remained silent. She moved with fluid grace, never making a sound. Despite her tendency to ramble, Ridmark suspected she focused with lethal haste when the situation required it.
Sevenfold Sword: Sorceress Page 19
