Sevenfold Sword: Sorceress

by Jonathan Moeller

  “But you and Justin had a falling out,” said Ridmark.

  “Yes,” said Cathala. “He…proved rather more difficult to control than I thought. Justin wasn’t a fool. He realized that the Seven Swords were the instrument by which the New God would arrive in the world. Justin decided to keep the Sword of Earth, lock away the other six Swords, and rule all of Owyllain himself. He murdered his father, seized the throne of Cytheria, and forced the kings of Cadeira and Talyrium to follow him. He accepted the help of the Maledictus of Earth and the High Warlock of Vhalorast and started making war on King Hektor. He also realized that he could father Swordborn children, children who would be immune to the Seven Swords and born with a measure of the Swords’ power.” She turned a disdainful glance towards Krastikon. Cathala had been ignoring Tamlin, but she had made no effort to hide her obvious contempt for Krastikon. “He had the idea of breeding his own army of private thugs, and started rutting with every fertile woman he could find in hopes of siring a guard of Swordborn children.”

  “He did,” said Krastikon. “He called us the Ironcoats.”

  “They were deadly enemies on the battlefield,” said Tamlin.

  Cathala let out a long breath. “Worst of all, Justin realized what Tysia really was. I don’t know how. Maybe Urzhalar told him. Or maybe he worked it out for himself. He was clever enough to have done so. I don’t know if he really believed that Talitha was a traitor, or if he saw her as a threat to his plan to remake Owyllain. Either way, I had to flee for my life, and I took Tysia with me. I knew several of the monks of the Monastery of St. James, and I took refuge there. By then I was several months pregnant with Tamlin, and I needed a quiet place where I could give birth. After Tamlin was born, I realized that the monastery would be a perfect place to raise both children. It was quiet, far from the borders of Owyllain, and the bearers of the Seven Swords didn’t know that it existed. Once Tysia was old enough, I could take her to Urd Maelwyn. Together we would free Irizidur from the Durance, discover his secrets, and destroy the Seven Swords and free Kothlaric.” Her eyes all but shone with conviction as she spoke her plan. She had genuinely believed that she was going to save Owyllain.

  “What went wrong?” said Ridmark.

  Cathala’s breath hissed through her teeth. “I don’t know. Wandering merchants sometimes came to the monastery. Maybe one of them saw me, and Justin found out somehow. Or perhaps the Maledicti told them.” She turned a baleful look in Selene’s direction. “Or perhaps your pet former urdhracos found us.”

  Selene grinned at her. “No. Until today, I have never been here before. I fear I cannot take credit for discovering the blatantly obvious flaws in your plans.”

  Cathala ignored that. “Justin himself attacked the monastery with a force of dvargir mercenaries. The monks were good fighters. They had to be, living alone in the wilds as they did, but Justin had the Sword of Earth. He tore through the outer walls and the gate and slaughtered the monks where they stood. I decided to confront Justin myself and told Tysia to run into the hills. I planned to wound Justin badly enough that he would have to use the Sword to heal himself. While he did that, I would find Tysia and then flee.”

  She hadn’t mentioned Tamlin at all. Ridmark found himself wondering if Cathala had given any thought to her son during the attack.

  “Instead,” said Tamlin, his voice hardening, “you were turned to stone, and both Tysia and I were taken as slaves to Urd Maelwyn.”

  “Yes,” said Cathala, indifferent to the hard edge in her son’s voice. “I suppose my plan wasn’t a complete failure, after all.” Tamlin’s eyes climbed halfway up his forehead. “Justin had come here to take revenge on me for abandoning him, but his main goal was to kill Tysia. I foiled him in that.”

  “No, you didn’t,” said Tamlin. “Justin might not have killed Tysia himself, but she died nonetheless.”

  “And how did she die, pray?” said Cathala.

  “The Maledictus of Fire murdered her,” said Tamlin. “Stabbed her from behind.”

  “That was hardly my fault,” said Cathala. “You had chosen to marry her for whatever reason. Perhaps you should have done a better job of protecting her.”

  Tamlin’s eyes narrowed. “And if you hadn’t fled here, if you…”

  “Do not presume to lecture me,” said Cathala. “I am your mother, and you will give me your obedience and respect, not your harsh words. If I wanted the advice of swaggering warriors, I would have stayed at Justin’s court. Be silent when your betters are…”

  “Do not talk to him that way,” said Tamara. She normally seemed so calm, but her expression had gotten harder and harder as Cathala spoke. “Tamlin has undertaken great risks to return here and free you. We all have.”

  “And I am not ungrateful,” said Cathala. “We all have our parts to play in the defeat of the New God, and freeing me was yours. And now it is time to play our final role.”

  “And what is that?” said Ridmark.

  “I must go to Urd Maelwyn at once, and I will take Tamara with me,” said Cathala. “There we shall free Irizidur from the Durance, and then we will at last have the secret of destroying the Seven Swords. We require no further help from you, Shield Knight, save that you give us some of your supplies before you depart. I suggest you return to Aenesium with your children. Once I have destroyed the Seven Swords, freed Kothlaric, and taken my rightful place as Master of the Arcanii, no doubt the High King will reward you.”

  Ridmark shook his head. “None of that is happening.”

  Cathala gave him a condescending smile. “Oh? And just why is that? You think to oppose me, Shield Knight?”

  “It is not me that stands in your way,” said Ridmark. “For one, you will have to pass through the Serpent Marshes to approach Urd Maelwyn, and the marshes are crawling with jastaani and swamp trolls. Two women alone, no matter how powerful their magic, are unlikely to survive the journey. Second, the Maledicti are actively hunting us. They know who Tamara really is, and they will go out of their way to kill her. You will need more than elemental magic to survive an attack from the Maledicti. And even if you survive all of that and reach Urd Maelwyn, the Confessor has fortified the city and withdrawn his armies into its walls. Maybe from fear of King Hektor, maybe of the jastaani, or for some stratagem of his own. But there will be tens of thousands of soldiers gathered around Urd Maelwyn, and you will have to sneak past them to get into the city.”

  The condescending smile did not waver. “I am well aware of the difficulties, Shield Knight. Better than you are, I imagine, since you are an outlander and not native to Owyllain. But those difficulties shall be overcome. Anything worth doing is difficult.”

  “That is true,” said Ridmark. He suddenly felt like he was arguing with a teenaged noblewoman, one with far more power and influence than good sense. “But if you do not consider the difficulties, they will overcome you.”

  “No matter,” said Cathala. “Unless you intend to restrain me by force, the discussion is over. Tamara, come with me. If we set out at once, we can still make a good six or seven miles by nightfall, and…”

  “I am not going anywhere with you,” said Tamara.

  Cathala turned that condescending smile in her direction. “Yes, you are. It is the purpose of your life, Talitha. The path you set yourself all those years ago in Urd Maelwyn. You…”

  “My name is Tamara,” said Tamara.

  “You can call yourself whatever you like, but it doesn’t change the truth that it is your destiny to destroy the Seven Swords and save Owyllain. That I shall be your guide and mentor on this path,” said Cathala.

  “I am not going to leave my husband,” said Tamara, and she grabbed Tamlin’s hand to emphasize the point.

  “Your husband?” said Cathala, contemptuous. “You have a higher destiny than to marry a clumsy oaf of a warrior, and…”

  “How dare you speak to him like that!” said Tamara, her temper dissolving at last. Ridmark had seen her frightened, but he had never seen her tru
ly angry before, and it was a formidable sight. “Your own son! A brave man who has endured much trial and pain, and who has come through great perils to rescue you! All this, and you have greeted him with indifference and contempt, and you have treated his friends with scorn.”

  “Do not presume to lecture me,” said Cathala. “I have dedicated my entire life to saving Owyllain, to preparing you for your destiny. I have sacrificed everything for that.”

  “Sacrificed?” said Tamara, incredulous. “Sacrificed? All you sacrificed was your position as the mistress of a cruel and brutal man. Did you spend years as a slave? Did they force you to fight as a gladiator? Did you stand against the Necromancer and King Justin?” Her lip thinned with a mixture of frustration and rage. “Did you spend years with nightmares of different deaths inside your head, wondering if you were finally going to go mad?”

  “You are going to…” started Cathala.

  “Be silent,” said Tamara. “If my first self made you into one of her favored apprentices, then I question her wisdom and judgment. This is my husband. These are my friends, who have stood with me in very dangerous places. And I am not leaving any of them to go with you.”

  Cathala glared at Tamara, her eyes glittering like jade knives.

  “Well-spoken, Tamara Earthcaller,” said Magatai. “Like a true woman of the Takai.”

  “Be quiet, you halfling savage,” said Cathala. “What do the Takai know of anything save for raiding and plunder?”

  “The Takai excel at raiding and plunder,” said Magatai, unperturbed. “The Takai also excel at courtesy. Indeed, we are the most courteous of all nations. Magatai thinks you could learn from our example.”

  “After everything I have done for you,” said Cathala, glaring at Tamara, “after all my loyal service, you…”

  “That’s enough,” said Tamlin, his voice tired.

  “Do not presume to interrupt your mother when she is speaking,” said Cathala. “I…”

  “You can speak to me however you like,” said Tamlin. “But I will not let you, or anyone else, talk to Tamara that way.” He shook his head. “I had hoped…I remembered you differently. Maybe that was the eyes of a child. You may say whatever you want to me, Mother. But not to Tamara. She has suffered enough.”

  “You ungrateful child,” spat Cathala. “After everything I sacrificed for you, after I found you a comfortable home here…”

  “Enough,” said Ridmark. “It is clear there is no profit in further discussion.” Cathala’s furious stare turned in his direction, but she said nothing. “I suggest we camp here tonight and depart on the morrow. It seems clear that our best path forward is to find a way into the Durance of Urd Maelwyn and free Irizidur.” Weariness tugged at him at the thought, but he shoved it aside. “We can return to Aenesium, and then join King Hektor’s army as he marches against Urd Maelwyn.”

  “And what of me, Shield Knight?” said Cathala.

  Ridmark shrugged. “As you’ve said, you can do as you like. You can come with us if you wish. Or you can stay here or travel elsewhere.”

  “How very gracious of you,” said Cathala, voice cold as ice.

  Chapter 16: Children

  Since the northern quarter of the monastery’s courtyard was filled with dead urvaalgs, and the southern quarter was pockmarked with craters from where the Immortal One’s abominations had clawed their way free from the ground, Ridmark decided they would camp in the eastern part of the courtyard, beneath the shadow of the great keep. Calliande would have liked a night underneath a roof, perhaps with a proper bed, but the dvargir had burned both the roofs and the beds of the monastery long ago. At least it was cool so high in the foothills, and there was only one route to the Monastery of St. James.

  Of course, that meant it would be easy for an enemy to barricade them inside the ruined monastery. Then again, any foe that approached in such numbers would be easy to see from a distance. Though given the efforts the Maledicti had expended to keep them from ever reaching the Monastery of St. James, Calliande would not be surprised to see an army appear outside the ruined walls.

  Staying here was a risk, she knew, but it was a calculated risk. They could be attacked just as easily outside the monastery. And it had been a long and dangerous journey here. An extra half day of rest would not go amiss.

  Then again, another half day in the presence of Cathala might be too high a price for that rest.

  They camped at the foot of the empty stone shell of the great central keep. At once Cathala stalked away, saying that she would be on the southern curtain wall if anyone wished to speak with her. She still seemed furious that Tamara had refused to leave with her at once.

  Calliande suggested they take a midday meal, and they sat and ate and drank. Both Tamlin and Tamara sat in silence, Tamara frowning, Tamlin staring at the ground.

  “I am sorry,” said Tamlin at last.

  “For what?” said Tamara.

  “For my mother,” said Tamlin. “For…the way she spoke to you.” He looked up. “For the way she spoke to all of you.” He shook his head. “I dragged you all here to free her, and she didn’t have a courteous word for any of you.”

  “Well,” said Kalussa, and Calliande knew her apprentice well enough to tell that Kalussa was straining to think of something nice to say. “Having fourteen years pass in the blink of an eye must be a shock.”

  Krastikon snorted. “She was a statue for fourteen years, yes. Selene was an urdhracos for a quarter of a millennium, and she has a more pleasant tongue in her head.”

  “Why, Prince Krastikon,” said Selene. “What a kind thing to say. Your wife…what was her name again?”

  “Queen Zenobia,” said Krastikon.

  “The Queen is a very fortunate woman,” said Selene. “And, I imagine, quite unlike Lady Cathala.”

  “Thank God for that,” said Krastikon.

  “But Cathala troubles me,” said Selene.

  Calliande waited for her to say more, but Selene lapsed into silence. Evidently, she really was troubled.

  “You have nothing for which to apologize, Tamlin,” said Ridmark. “You came here because she was your mother. We came with because we thought she had the knowledge to help against the Maledicti and the New God. And she did. We know what we have to do now.”

  “Find Irizidur,” said Calliande. “Get him out of the Durance.”

  “That will not be easy, Lord Ridmark,” said Calem. It was the first time he had spoken in several hours. “The Masked One and his sorcery might have filled my memory with holes, but I remember Urd Maelwyn well enough. The walls are tall and strong, and the Confessor has rebuilt much of the damage from High King Kothlaric’s siege. The Confessor’s soldiers are also skilled and well-trained, and he has the Sword of Water.”

  “And King Hektor’s scouts reported that the Confessor has been preparing for a siege,” said Krastikon. “Fortifying the vale of Urd Maelwyn with extra castras and laying in supplies.”

  “Aye, I remember,” said Ridmark. “Sir Parmenio saw it. I wonder if the Confessor is more concerned about King Hektor or the Immortal One’s jastaani.”

  “Both,” said Selene, though she still looked distracted. “My father knows King Hektor is coming for him, but he doesn’t trust the Maledicti, and he definitely doesn’t trust the Masked One. Most probably my father and the Maledicti will cooperate long enough to destroy King Hektor, and then they’ll turn on each other.”

  “My father will never be overcome,” said Kalussa with her usual fierceness, though Calliande heard the fear in her voice.

  “We’ll worry about how to get into Urd Maelwyn when we get there,” said Ridmark. “Whether King Hektor takes the city by storm, or if we can find a way to enter it through stealth.”

  “I hope we find a way to enter the city by stealth and to open the gates while we’re at it,” said Krastikon. “Otherwise many thousands of the men of Owyllain will die storming the city.”

  Tamlin took a deep breath. “What are we going to do wi
th my mother?”

  “We’ll have to take her with us,” said Ridmark. “If we leave her here, she’ll strike out on her own, and there’s no way she’ll survive the journey through the Serpent Marshes without help.” He shrugged. “As unpleasant as she is, she’s a powerful sorceress, and the Order of the Arcanii will need every Knight and Sister it can find before the battle with the Confessor begins.”

  “She’ll try to tell us what to do,” said Kalussa.

  “Let her,” said Tamara with some heat. “I am not going to Urd Maelwyn alone with her. Even if she were the most polite and courteous woman in the world, the idea is still stark folly.” Anger flared in her mismatched eyes, and she looked at Tamlin. “How dare she talk that way to you.”

  Tamlin shrugged. “It’s clear I am a disappointment to her. It seems she truly wanted me to become a monk.”

  “I am sorry, though,” said Tamara. “I know you wanted to free her. I didn’t know that she would be so…”

  “I am fine,” said Tamlin, and Calliande knew him well enough to see the faint strain. “Truly. I heard the rumors about my mother for years. She was not well-loved, that was plain. At the time I thought that jealousy of her power, but now…” He gave a frustrated shake of her head. “It seems clear that she enjoys exercising power, but I wonder how much of that power came from her position as Talitha’s student.”

  “Like a kindly lord,” said Ridmark, “whose servants use his authority as an excuse to bully and extort the freeholders.”

  Tamlin’s mouth twisted, but he nodded. “Yes.”

  “I wonder what Talitha was thinking,” said Tamara. She hesitated. “What I was thinking.”

  Tamlin blinked. “And we shouldn’t worry about me. To learn that you were once Master Talitha of the Order…”

  “I…” said Tamara.

  She gazed at the sky for a while, then nodded, looked at Tamlin, and smiled.

  “You know, it’s really rather a relief,” said Tamara. “I know who I was. I know why I asked Rhodruthain to split my life into seven parts. I would have been horrified to know that I had been Talitha. Even in Kalimnos, she was hated as the woman who betrayed King Kothlaric to his death. But Kothlaric is still alive…and I have seen firsthand how the Maledictus of Shadows can twist the minds and memories of his enemies.”