In one fluid motion, Jekaran twirled his sword so that the blade pointed down, swung his arm, and slammed the pommel into the big soldier’s nose. The man’s hands shot to his face and he fell to his knees, blood gushing down the front of his armor.
The soldier holding Maely abruptly released her, and drew his sword as he rushed forward. His two fellows, both of whom converged simultaneously, joined him.
Jek didn’t hesitate. With practiced timing, he dropped to the ground and shot a leg out to sweep the soldier charging him. He then somersaulted forward over the sprawled mercenary and sprung to his feet just in time to parry two swinging swords at once. He threw off the two mercenary’s blades and spin-kicked the soldier at his left in the face before landing and elbowing the soldier at his right across the nose. It was all incredibly heroic, save for the fact that Jekaran still wore a green velvet dress with white sequins fringing the hem.
The first soldier struck at Jek from behind, but ended up skewering one of his companions as Jek presciently sidestepped the attack. He didn’t even have time to register what he’d done to his own companion when Jek struck him in the back of the head with the sword’s jeweled pommel, the resounding crack so loud Maely had no doubt the man’s skull had been broken. The mercenary crumpled forward, landing on top of the man he had impaled. The last soldier without debilitating injuries—the one Jekaran had spin-kicked in the face—didn’t rise for another attack. Instead, he scrambled away like a crab, blubbering and begging that his life be spared.
Jek responded by slamming the toe of his boot hard into the fork of the man’s legs with a casual brutality that frightened Maely. He then turned to face the mercenary leader. The man was still on his knees, right hand cupping his gushing nose.
“Please Brother Ulan,” the soldier pled.”
Brother Ulan?
“Don’t kill me!”
A sudden fear rose in Maely’s heart. Would Jek kill this man? He hadn’t inflicted any overtly lethal injuries on the other mercenaries, but he had ruthlessly slaughtered the bandits that attacked him in Rasha. That had been awful, but justified self-defense. This was different. Killing this man now in his helpless state would be—murder.
He won’t do it, Maely told herself. That’s not him. The boy she had grown up with, the boy she loved, was not a murderer. He was mischievous, true, but his mischief never crossed into the realm of cruelty. But what if the ego talis had changed him somehow? What if he wasn’t able to control himself? What if the sword had turned him into a monster?
“I like you, Hort,” Maely heard Jek say just before he raised his sword to a decapitating trajectory.
The mercenary leader’s eyes widened.
No, Jek, Maely thought. Please don’t.
Jekaran’s face was completely devoid of emotion and for the first time in her life, Maely couldn’t read him. That frightened her. The mercenary leader began to cry and plead for his life, promising a hundred different things if he spared him. The moment stretched, and Maely began to panic. No, Jek, no, she silently pled. Then a thought occurred to her.
“Jekaran!” she shouted, working to keep her voice from trembling. “Jekaran!” She saw him flinch, and that gave her courage. She began walking toward him. “Jekaran, what would Ez say if he saw you like this?” she tried to sound accusing.
Jek’s expression started to flicker.
Golden womb of the goddess, was the talis controlling him? Like her ring controlled the shopkeeper?
“You know he’d disapprove. You know he’d be disappointed.”
She slowly sidled up to him, lightly placed her hand on his raised arm, and said in a gentler tone, “What would Mulladin think if he saw you murder this man? He looks up to you. I look up to you.”
That seemed to do it and Jek let her force his arm down. He then looked at her, his eyes focusing and his countenance warming with feeling. “Mae?” he asked, sounding confused.
What was that talis doing to him?
“Leave him,” she said. “We need to go.”
Jek cast a glance at the mercenary leader and nodded.
The large soldier’s shoulders dropped, and he fell to the ground weeping like a child.
Goddess, send that we don’t run across Gymal on our way out, Maely prayed. She wasn’t sure she could coax Jekaran out of a murderous rage if that bully tried to stop them. “Come on,” she said as she pulled on his arm.
The two broke into a quick jog down the mountainous path, through the natural sandstone arch, and back into camp. Kairah was still shaking the ground, albeit not as violently as before. That surprised Maely, for the Allosian woman had claimed to have very little power left, and that she would only be able to manage a few moments of—
Then Maely saw a glowing amethyst light shining out through open patches on a rock wall.
“They found the well,” she said to herself.
“Actually, I found it,” Jek said sounding disgusted for some reason.
Still staring at the soft glow—it was quite beautiful—Maely said, “That’s how she had the strength to keep this up.”
“Who?”
Maely shot a glance at him. “No one.” She wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell Jek about Kairah. He would meet the Allosian soon enough. Maybe she was worried that her beauty would smite Jek. Hell, who wouldn’t be taken aback by how thin and perfect the woman looked. And skin free of blemishes? Would Jek fall in love with her?
That’s stupid, Maely chided herself.
“Jekaran!”
Jek skidded to a stop.
Oh no, Maely thought with a stab of panic. Gymal.
“Halt!” The short lord pointed from a hundred paces away, and the two mercenaries flanking him began to charge.
Jekaran smiled wickedly so Maely gripped his hand tighter. When had she taken a hold of his hand? “No!” she snapped. “We need to get out of here!”
Jek stared at her for a long moment, face starting to go blank again.
Divine Mother! Was he losing control again?
The sound of thundering footfalls drew Maely’s attention to her left, where two Gherns galloped toward them. Irvis was riding the one in front and holding onto the reins of the second beast. He reined in before them and glowered down at Jek.
“By Rasheera’s breasts!” he swore. “What do you think you are doing, child?”
Why did that man remind her of Ez?
Jekaran opened his mouth to speak, but Irvis cut him off.
“We don’t have time for that now!” he snapped. “We have to go!” He proffered the reins of the second Ghern to Jek.
Jek shot an uncertain glance at the bipedal beast and said, “I’ve never ridden one of these.”
“Stop them!” Gymal’s nasally scream was closer now.
Jek shot a glance at the short lord and his mercenary entourage, now only thirty paces away. He looked at the ghern, nodded, and then put his right foot in the stirrup while grasping the pommel of the saddle with his free hand. The beast stamped and snorted and Jek pulled his foot out of the stirrup.
“Give that to me!” Irvis motioned to the sword.
Maely’s anxiety increased as she saw Jek’s face go blank again. It lasted only a moment before he nodded and reluctantly handed the sword to Irvis. With both hands free, he was able to climb into the saddle and then lean down to help her climb up behind him. She hugged him around the waist, probably a little too tightly.
“Stop them!” Gymal shouted from just ten paces away.
Irvis thrust the handle of the sword at Jek who took the weapon back greedily. The chubby man then snapped the reins of his beast and shouted “Ya!”
Jek copied the motion and sound, and their ghern leapt into a gallop behind Irvis’ mount.
Panicked well-finders crisscrossed their path, some not even noticing them coming until the last moment when they were forced to leap out of the way.
Maely cast a look behind them and saw Gymal shouting at his mercenaries and pointing after them. Th
ey were in for a surprise when they found out that Irvis had scattered their mounts. She smiled to herself and tightened her grip around Jek’s waist.
They left the camp behind, galloping along a sandstone wall bending north. Something moved at the corner of her vision, and she turned to see a rippling in the air like that of heat lines on a summer horizon. A beat later the lizard man appeared, running as fast as their ghern was galloping. It was so sudden that she yelped, which drew Jek’s attention to the Vorakk keeping pace with them.
“Alka stupid human boy!” the Vorakk hissed loudly.
Jek actually laughed at that and shouted, “It’s good to see you too, Karak!”
Karak? Did all Vorakk names end in k? She rolled her eyes. Before this one, she hadn’t actually met any of the reptilian humanoids, but she had heard plenty of tales and always they had names like: Iark, or Septok, or Naltuk. Ridiculous.
“Where’s your mount?” Jek shouted.
The lizard man grinned showing an unnerving mouth full of pointy teeth. “Karak only use ghern for food. Vorakk run fast aka.”
“I can see that,” Jek laughed.
Disgusting, Maely thought. Who ate ghern? They smelled bad and were too expensive besides.
Their flight carried them a mile from Gymal’s camp, where they slowed to a halt inside of a sandstone gorge. Maely looked around, searching for Kairah. She began to ask Irvis, but the question only formed on her lips before the Allosian woman came out from behind a large boulder.
An untethered ghern obediently followed her without the woman doing anything to coax it.
Does she talk to animals too?
Kairah glanced at Maely before looking at Jek, offering a deep, pink-lipped smile.
Maely growled under her breath.
Jekaran’s breath caught in his throat, and, for a brief moment, he felt as though he were suffocating. The woman standing before him was without a doubt the most incredibly beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. Even beneath her sable cloak, Jekaran could see the perfect proportion of her body highlighted by the right amount of curves. And she was tall, but not so tall as to be mannish. She reminded him of the sculpture of the goddess carved around Rasha’s Apeira well, perfect in a way only seen in works of art.
Who was she? He had seen her before, of that he was sure, but where? Then Jekaran remembered. “You were in Rasha,” he blurted out.
The woman dipped her head as she drew down the hood of her cloak, revealing her hair.
It wasn’t the beautiful dark color she wore when he rescued—tried to rescue, he corrected himself—her from the rape gang in Rasha. No, this was a color he had never seen on anyone. It was the same amethyst color of an Apeira well, and seemed to glow against her alabaster skin.
“She’s a beautiful creature, isn’t she,” Irvis whispered. “Probably the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and I’ve seen a lot of women. A lot of women.”
Jekaran ignored the monk’s lascivious implication. “Uh, my lady.” He bowed awkwardly in the saddle and was suddenly reminded that he was wearing a torn up, green velvet dress.
Ah, hell!
“My courageous protector,” the woman said as she dipped her head a second time.
Jekaran thought he heard Maely mutter something, but ignored it and said, “Don’t know about courageous. Foolish maybe.”
The woman laughed. It was a musical sound like a cord playing on a harp, a sound Jekaran was sure he could never get tired of hearing. “You are not a fool, Jekaran.”
“I look like one.” Jekaran chuckled nervously and motioned at the dress he was wearing. “Could I have my lady’s name?”
Maely scoffed again.
That nettled Jekaran, for he was trying to be a gentleman and polite, both things Maely often accused him of not being.
“I am Kairah of Allose.”
“You’re an Allosian?” Jekaran blurted out in a way that ended his awkward attempt at chivalrous formality.
“Yes.”
“Then I have you to thank for my rescue?”
“She only caused the quake,” Maely snapped.
“Only?” Jekaran scoffed as he shot her an amused glance. The girl glowered at him, and her new short hair made her look like her brother when he was pouting. Jekaran laughed. “Don’t be like that, Mae.”
“Something’s wrong with him,” Maely said to Kairah in a tone that reminded Jekaran of when she would tattle on him to Ez. “The sword was controlling him.”
She knew about his connection to the sword? Did they all know?
Jekaran felt the sword project some kind of emotion. Was that unease? Ridiculous, Jekaran thought. It’s just a weapon, a magical weapon, to be sure, but nothing more. The sword’s mental communication shifted again at the thought. That was odd. If Jekaran didn’t know better, he would have thought the sword was offended.
“He couldn’t control himself when fighting the soldiers. He almost executed one on the spot, when the man was helpless and beaten.” Maely said.
“Mae!” Jekaran snapped. “What’s wrong with you? I was in complete control.”
“Your face changed, Jek,” Maely said, and now she did sound worried. “And so did your eyes.”
“I—I—”
The Allosian woman strode toward him, face professional as though she were a magistrate and Jekaran at court. She reached up and touched his temple. This close he caught her scent. It made Jekaran think of spring trees and fresh water. If beautiful had a summary-smell, it would’ve been this.
At her touch, Jekaran felt something brush his mind. It felt similar to when the sword communicated with him, except more potent, more real. Jekaran could sense Kairah looking at his very soul, and it was both exhilarating and unnerving at the same time. Like being naked on your wedding night.
She touched his link to the sword and strummed it like strumming the string of a lute. It was an entirely novel sensation, both fascinating and uncomfortable. He could feel the sword’s displeasure and had to agree with its sentiment, but, before he could protest, the experience was over.
“His link is out of balance,” Kairah said as she removed her hand from his temple.
“What?” Jekaran asked.
Kairah looked at him, and, for the first time, he noticed her eyes were the same color as her hair. “You have bonded an ego talis.”
“A what?”
“It’s like the sword is alive,” Maely added.
So it is alive! That confirmed Jekaran’s suspicions but did nothing to ease his fear. Though he denied it to Maely and Kairah, and to himself, he felt the sword taking over while he had been fighting Hort and the other mercenaries. And, at the end, he had lost control. Had it not been for Maely’s distant voice calling him back from the edge of madness, he would’ve killed Hort. Would’ve killed him and enjoyed it.
“How alive?” Jekaran said, his taut voice belying his bravado. “I mean, is it like an animal or a person?”
Kairah stared at him for a long moment before answering him. “It depends on the talis. Has it communicated to your mind in actual words or just feelings and impressions?”
Jekaran bit his lower lip.
“Jek?” he heard Maely press.
“It told me to attack the soldiers, okay!”
Kairah nodded gravely. “Only the most powerful ego talises could speak to one’s mind in words. They have personalities of their own, and a will.”
“A will?” Jekaran repeated. “Like, it has its own ideas and feelings?”
“Yes,” Kairah said. “And bonding such a talis requires constant mental vigilance to keep its will from dominating the host’s.”
“Then it’s evil?” Jekaran asked, sudden fear making him mentally retreat from his contact with the sword.
Kairah shook her head. “Talises are only tools, even ego talises. They will want to answer the ends of their creation. That is their driving directive. In this case, the sword’s purpose is to fight and kill. It will therefore influence you to do that
at every opportunity.”
Jekaran looked down at the sword lying across his lap, a sudden wariness making him shut the weapon talis completely out of his mind. It was a hard thing, like plugging a hole in a fishing boat while actually on the water.
“Can you fix him?” Maely asked. “Can you separate him from the sword?”
The suggestion caused Jekaran a sudden stab of panic. He shot his head up and snapped, “No!”
“Jek!” Mae scolded.
“I can control it.”
“Listen to her, child,” he heard Irvis say from behind him. “That sword caused your uncle to do some terrible things. Things I know he regrets to this day.”
Jekaran now understood his uncle better, understood how he might’ve turned into a killer. The power the sword offered was intoxicating, the drive to destroy almost overwhelming. I can control it, he told himself again. I won’t turn into a murderer!
Mae looked at Kairah with the same look she displayed when she was trying to persuade Ez to side with her on a contested issue.
Kairah’s expression faltered. “Such a thing is”—she hesitated—“difficult.”
“I don’t know much about magic, but can’t you just cut the link, like a cord?”
Kairah thoughtfully shook her head. “That question does not have a simple answer, Maely.”
Jekaran saw Maely’s cheeks redden, a look he knew all too well. The short girl was losing control of her fiery temper. “Maybe you could dumb it down and speak slowly so we stupid humans can understand.”
Kairah sighed wearily—apparently, she was already accustomed to Maely’s short fuse—and said, “That is not what I mean.”
“Then what do you mean?” she snapped.
“The more powerful an ego talis, the stronger and faster the bond forms. You must understand there is protocol for this kind of thing. Hosts usually undergo long periods of mental training before they bond their ego talis, and the process itself is best if undertaken gradually so the talis’ will does not overpower the will of the new host.”
The Lure of Fools Page 19
