[Lanen Kaelar 03] - Redeeming the Lost (5 page)

When she had mopped up the last of the gravy
with the last of the bread, and finished the jug of watered wine, she sat back
and gazed at me as if waiting for something. After a moment she said, “You
know, I find it hard to believe you’ve had a rush of fatherly feeling, Marik,”
she said. “Why are you here?”

“Why not?” I replied. “I’m bored, girl.” To my
own surprise, it appeared to be true. With Maikel gone, I had no one to talk to
apart from Berys, and he was as boring as last week’s soup when he wasn’t
indulging in his deep-laid schemes. I didn’t care to spend more time in his
company than was necessary. At the best of times Berys made my flesh crawl.
Still, he was useful. I would soon be rid of my pain at last! Yes, this girl
was going to be of use to me in many ways. I promised the soul of my firstborn
to demons before I knew she existed, long years since, when Berys and I created
the Farseer. I had been suffering for it ever since. Demons don’t like debtors.

“And so you come to me. Goddess help us all.”
She stared at me, shaking her head. “How did you manage to get your mind back?
Last time I saw you, you were drooling.”

‘Thanks to your scaly friends,” I snapped. “Berys
helped me out of that particular hell.”

“Not Maikel?”

“He left me,” I said shortly.

“Wise man,” she said. “I suspect everyone you
have ever known has left you. I’m just surprised he stuck around for so long.
He was a good man.” She looked straight into my eyes. “And he seemed to be
genuinely attached to you.” When I did not respond, she shrugged. “Ah, well.
There’s always one idiot in every crowd.”

I stared back at her and said angrily, “You
fool. Have you forgotten that I have been in constant pain since your mother
stole that Farseer? I promised my firstborn to the demons as the price of its
making, and in a few hours you will pay with your soul.” I felt a nasty grin
spread slowly across my face. ‘There’s a bit of doggerel verse Berys keeps
quoting: ‘Marik of Gundar’s blood and bone shall rule all four in one alone.’
You’re quite useful, really. Your soul to demons to ease my pain, your body to
wed Berys so the prophecy is fulfilled and he rules with you. So insult me all
you like. I win. You and your harlot mother lose.”

I should have known, I had been expecting
something of the sort, but I still didn’t see it coming. She stood all in a
moment and struck me across the face as hard as she could, which given her
height and her strength was impressive. I cried out but was too taken aback to
react instantly and she had time for another blow. I reeled, but somehow
managed to grab her wrists and stop her before she could land a third. We were
both furious, but before I could repay her in kind she arrested my gaze with
her own. Her eyes were blazing.

“Is that it, Father?” she asked, her voice a
low snarl. “Is that what you wanted? Penance for your evil? Punishment for the
blackness of your soul, that would murder an innocent babe without a second
thought and deliver the life of your only child to demons? And all as payment
for a thing of no use in the world save to make you richer!” She fought to free
herself, but I had been battered enough and held her still. “How dare you call
my mother harlot, you bastard!” She kicked my shin. The pain made me yell, and
the guard opened the door.

“Sir?” he said.

“Will you leave off?” I asked her.

“I won’t touch you more,” she said, and
wrenched free of my loosened grasp. She went as far away from me as possible,
to the far side of the little cell, and leaned against the stone wall, her arms
wrapped around herself. “You can send your tame bear away.”

I nodded to the guard. He backed out of the
room and pulled the door nearly closed.

‘They told me you never even knew your mother,”
I said. Even as I spoke I wondered why in all the Hells I didn’t leave. What was
I doing there? What possible reason could I have to speak to this woman?

Curiosity, I thought. Pure and simple. She’s
your daughter, until they take her soul away in a few hours. This is your last
chance to find out what she’s like, before you rejoice that she’s gone.

What in the name of sense was he doing? I
couldn’t fathom it. Even now, years later, I have no idea what in all the world
he was after that morning. Perhaps he didn’t know either. Perhaps there is a
connection of blood and bone that cannot be entirely denied even by the most
soul-dead.

Or maybe he just wanted to taunt me one last
time.

And to be honest, I was less concerned with
his reasons than with my own anger. I had not pulled my punches when I hit him.
I should have been afraid of killing him, but to say truth I wanted to kill
him. There was a part of me that was annoyed that I hadn’t even managed to
knock him out this time. By fortune, by chance, by the fact that I’m terrible
with a sword, I had never killed anything on two legs that didn’t also have
wings, but the fire in my heart blazed at full fury and I would gladly have
murdered him then and there if I had the chance.

For the moment I did what I could to answer
his questions.

“Whoever ‘they’ are, they’re right. I don’t
remember her. She left when I was no more than a year old and never came back.”

Then why such a spirited defence?” he asked.

“Good question,” I replied. I stood up again
and started to pace, rubbing my sore knuckles, trying not to let Marik see that
I was shaking with anger, lest he take it for trembling in fear. “I’m not
certain myself. Perhaps I cannot imagine that anything she did twenty-four
years ago could be as dark an evil as that which you plan for me. Perhaps I’d
defend the Lord of the Seventh Hell himself if you cried out against him.”
Then, without thinking, I added, “Perhaps it’s because I’m—Hells take it—” I
forced myself to stare him straight in the eye. “You can’t wed me to Berys, I’m
married already. I was bloody well going to have children one day, you bastard,
and of their two grandparents I know which one I would have let them meet.”

Goddess help me, I’d almost let slip the one
piece of information I didn’t want Marik and Berys to know. I always say too
much when I’m really angry.

“Oh, that’s a small problem. Whoever your
husband is, he surely won’t be that hard to kill. Take heart, Daughter,” he
mocked, falsely cheerful. “You might yet bear children, though to be honest I’ve
never thought of Berys as one to indulge in so—normal an activity.” He smirked.
“In any case, whatever of you is left is unlikely to enjoy it much.”

“Curse you to all the Hells,” I snarled, “and
take Berys with you for good measure.”

‘Too late, in his case,” he said lightly, and
called for the guard to come get the tray. When the guard opened the door, the
instant he stepped in, I cried out in truespeech as loudly as I could. “Varien
beloved Berys holds me captive, I’m here I’m here to me my love swiftly, they
steal my soul this night come succour your childer swiftly to me to me!”

Marik slammed the door behind the guard and
whirled to face me, his eyes blazing. “You tricksy bitch! ‘What might have
been/ indeed—you are with child even now!” His grin had a certain mad edge to
it. “And Berys and I are neither of us such fools as to let you yell for help.
The guard and I are the only ones will have heard your shout, and the spell
against Farspeech encloses the room no matter if the door is open or shut.” He
laughed. “Berys will be delighted. Hells, I’ve never heard you before!”

I strode the two paces across the room to
strike him down, but he danced away from me and called out for the guard.
Nothing happened.

I felt a terrible grin distort my face, the
match of Marik’s. “He can’t hear you. You shut the door, idiot. And you can’t
get to the door save through me.”

He swore and tried to get around me, but I
never moved. “My soul to the Lady, you’re a dead man, Marik,” I said. My voice
surprised me. It was quite a lot higher than my normal speaking voice, very
strange indeed. But very clear. “Shrive yourself, for by all I hold sacred I
swear, I am going to kill you with my bare hands.”

At least he didn’t waste time saying something
stupid like “You wouldn’t dare.” I suspect it was quite clear that I bloody
well would dare, and then some. “The guard will be back any moment now, I was
right behind him,” he squeaked, dancing away from me as best he could in that
small space.

“Then I don’t have very long,” I said, and
lunged. I caught an edge of his tunic and hauled him towards me with all my strength.
He was no weakling himself, but somehow all the helplessness, the fury of being
a prisoner, and now my desperate fears for my unborn babes, combined to give me
a strength I had never known. I tripped him up so that he measured his length
on the floor and fell heavily on top of him, kneeling on his chest with my
hands about his throat. I squeezed with all my strength. He turned red, then
purple, awfully quickly. I never let up, not for an instant.

Not much longer now, surely. My arms were
starring to shake. I thought of my children sacrificed on Berys’s obscene altar
and squeezed harder.

To my astonishment, he stopped fighting to get
my hands away—he was reaching for something—

With a snap as of breaking crockery and a hiss
like an angry snake, the room was suddenly full of Rikti and they were
attacking me.

I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep my hands
around Marik’s throat. The instinct to survive is too strong. I struck out at
them as best I could, but they were all around me, biting and clawing at my
back, my arms, my face. I got up off of Marik and ran to put my back against a
corner. I was bleeding in a dozen places. One dove directly at my eyes, its
claws extended. I turned my head away and threw up my arm to protect myself,
and though it clawed my arm, it didn’t get any further. I dared to look again.

Marik was gone, the door just closing behind
him. There didn’t seem to be nearly as many demons as there had been, and the
half dozen that remained didn’t seem to be in a hurry to attack me. What in the
world?

I waited. The nearest seemed to make up its
mind and flew at me swiftly with extended claws. I grabbed for its leg, meaning
to smash it against the wall, but I missed. It didn’t. I felt the claws bite
deep, cried out with the pain, saw the stream of red as my blood flowed from
the slash—

And then the damned thing burst into flame and
disappeared.

The others cried, “Kantrishakrim!” and winked
out of existence as swiftly as they had arrived.

I tried, with teeth and shaking hands, to tear
bits off the bottom edge of my tunic to use as bandages. It was the only time I
cursed at the quality of my clothing, because I couldn’t do it, the cloth was
too strong. At least it kept my mind off of things for the time it took to make
the attempt. The bleeding eventually stopped on its own, but my wounds burned
and stung as though I’d scrubbed them with nettles.

And I was left alone with my thoughts,
tumbling one after another like a torrent down a fall. It was to be tonight. It
was already past noon. Marik knew I was pregnant. I was exhausted, shaking from
the effort, and badly wounded by the demons. I crouched in a corner, full of
fury unspent, angry at myself for not finishing the job—and deep inside there
was a terrible quivering in my belly as I began truly to despair for the life
of my babes. I feared I had only hours left to five.

It wasn’t until much later that I realised
what the Rikti had said. Kantrishakrim. It was Old Speech for “the Wise People,”
the Greater Kindred.

Seems I had changed rather more thoroughly
than I had thought.

As Kedra left, Varien and Bella begged my
pardon and re-turned to the other two Gedri who waited still at the field’s
edge, near a small wood not far away. I took the chance to look about me.
Shikrar was well enough, despite a few injuries that plagued Mm yet. When all
had been resolved, he would surely fall into the Weh sleep for a few years and
all would be well when he woke. It would be difficult, for being new-come to
this place we had as yet no knowledge of where we might establish our Weh
chambers. We are desperately vulnerable during the Weh sleep: it comes upon us
whether we will or no when we are badly injured, and every fifty years or so in
any case, for we continue to grow throughout our lives. While in its thrall we
sleep and cannot be wakened, and our armour bums off to allow the new armour,
yet soft, to grow. We cannot even guard one another during the Weh, for the
guard will be taken by the Weh as well. Now that we were back among the Gedri,
it was vital that we find a safe haven.

Shikrar had explained it to me, but I still
could not comprehend the bizarre Gedri liking for khaadish, which was the root
of the trouble. Where we sleep, we turn the ground to khaadish after some
years—it is simply what happens. Khaadish is pretty to look at, shiny and
yellow and very soft for a metal, but there are only so many uses for it. The
Gedri covet it insanely. We of the Kantri do not forget, and the story is yet
told among us of one evil night long ages since, when a helpless child of the
Kantri was murdered by marauding Gedri during the Weh sleep for no more than
the khaadish she slept upon. From that time, we have sought out hidden Weh
chambers, both for our safety and that the Gedri might not be tempted.