The Third Scroll (7 page)

My stomach growled at the sights and smells of the feast being prepared. He pointed to a small wicker basket of fresh-baked biscuits. I thanked him for his kindness and snatched one, still warm from the oven, but did not bite into it.

I looked around to make sure no one lingered close enough to overhear us. “Tahar is back. I cannot escape now. It is too late.”

“They will go again soon. War is coming, worse than before. It is coming here.”

I barely heard his words, so deafened I was by my own misery. “Here?” I asked at last when his words reached my awareness.

There had been no war in our corner of the world for a hundred years and for another hundred before that. Not since the Kadar had settled the lands to the north. The Island of Dahru stood well-protected.

“The Kerghi hordes have a new Khan. He allied himself with Emperor Drakhar.”

I bit into the flaky biscuit at last and sighed with pleasure as the rich flavor melted on my tongue.

“The Emperor who seeks to rule the world.” I took a few more greedy bites, not worried in the least. Drakhar’s armies had been invading since I remembered, and his father’s armies before him.

But the Shahala and Kadar lands—mostly mountains and desert with narrow strips of arable land along the coastline—lacked the things that wars were fought over. Any invader would realize that as soon as they set foot here, and leave us alone. “What do the warriors say?”

Talmir winced as he shrugged. “They are ready for the fight as always. They do not realize whom they face.”

The Kadar always stood ready to fight. A nation that lived from war would welcome it.

“How soon will the Kerghi come?” The upheaval might bring an opportunity to escape.

“Bad always comes too soon.” Talmir used a fist-sized stone to pound herbs into the meat and make it tender. “Remember the Tezgin mercenaries I told you about? They captured me to heal some of their men wounded in a fight against the Kerghi.” His voice grew somber. “Such wounds I have never seen.”

“Maybe they will never reach the Middle Islands.” Dahru was one of the largest of the Middle Islands, in the middle of Mirror Sea. Vast lands surrounded the sea, holding great kingdoms. Beyond them lay the ocean, raked by hardstorms, its treacherous waves impassable by ship. The lands that spread beyond the ocean could be reached only through the gate.

“The Kerghi are already here,” Talmir said. “As close as Morlangee. That is why Tahar returned sooner than expected.”

He slid the meat into the brick oven, and I caught a smattering of dark stains on the back of his tunic. And when he turned, I saw the pain on his face for the first time, although it must have been there all along, invisible only to me through my veil of small troubles.

“What happened?” My sharp cry drew glances from the other servants, so I lowered my voice. “Are you hurt?”

“Worry not about me, little sister.”

“Let me help you.”

He started to say no but then sat on a low stool in front of me and pulled up his tunic. His back had been beaten raw, the bloodied skin mangled to expose his muscles.

“Tahar wastes no time, does he?” My fingers trembled with rage as I reached for the phial that hung on the cord around my neck, hidden under my tattered tunic. “He had only just arrived home. What could you have possibly done?”

“Not Tahar, Kumra. For sending her daughter food that made her sick.”

I bit my lip as I cleaned his back with water, then dabbed the worst of his wounds with moonflower tears. They were no use against poison, so I could not help Keela with them. But the drops worked well on wounds, fighting off both the yellow pus that brought with it fever and the deadly blackening.

I used all I had to help Talmir, then, when no one watched, I unraveled from my body the fine fabric I had taken from Kumra and wrapped the cloth around Talmir’s wounds and pulled his long tunic over it.

“Keep that from the eyes of others,” I said, knowing I did not have to. “I will come back for it later.”

“Thank you, little sister.” He drew me to him and kissed me on the forehead as a father would his daughter. “You better hurry before they miss you.” He handed me a tray of cold sweetmeats to take to Tahar’s Hall, but I barely reached the kitchen door when I bumped into Igril.

“I shall take that.” She set an empty jar at my feet and snatched the tray from me. “You fetch some water. And be quick with it.”

I did not mind. She probably wanted to hurry back to Maiden Hall to ready herself for the feast. I preferred the walk to the creek even in the biting cold. After being cooped up in Keela’s chamber for so long, I needed some fresh air.

The sun had set while I had been in the kitchen, the courtyard teeming with warriors now. I hurried along the crowded path that led to the end of the fields, impatient with the slow pace of the water carriers and the warriors heading to the creek to wash the grime of battle off their bodies.

Something wet touched my face, and I looked up as a sparkling speck of white dust floated by me. I stopped and watched in wonder as more and more snowflakes came floating out of the sky.

I had seen snow before, on the top of distant mountains. I knew it was cold and wet. Some Shahala—very few indeed—had gone that far and brought back strange tales. But the snow on the mountains looked like a solid white blanket the peaks drew over their shoulders. Here the snowflakes floated around me as fragile tiny stars, the gifts of the sky. I tried to catch them on my fingertip, but they melted too fast and would not allow any length of examination.

I dared not linger as I knew Kumra must be waiting for the water, so I strode forth in the snowfall, smiling with pleasure as a few stray flakes clung to my eyelashes. For the first time, I saw the beauty in the country of the Kadar, the buildings and fields that were slowly sprinkled with diamond dust, sparkling in the moonlight.

I kept out of the way of the men and walked up-creek for fresh water. The wind, blowing from the sea and carrying its salty tang, gained strength. I turned my face from its icy fingers as I thought about my escape and wondered how long I would have to wait for it.

In every direction I looked, I saw Tahar’s sentries in the moonlight, more than he had ever posted before. Perhaps Talmir had heard right and the enemy
was
coming.

A bush rustled to my left. I glanced that way but saw nothing. Probably the wind. I filled the jar and stepped onto the bank to turn toward the house when rough fingers closed around my ankle.

A warrior had been behind the bush, I realized too late, as he yanked my feet from under me, and I fell onto the withered grass, the jar slipping from my hands, the water spilling.

“No!”

My shout of alarm brought three more warriors from farther down the creek.

Instead of helping me, they stood around laughing.

“A fine one you caught,” one said and whistled.

Another added, “Hurry on or the food will be cold by the time we all get a turn.”

The one that had me flashed a terrible grin. I ignored the pain of his hands biting into my flesh, screamed as I struggled, but could not match the man’s strength. He ripped my clothes off in no time, baring me to the cold night and his friends’ hungry gazes.

He untied the strip of leather that held together his leggings, which were made of much finer cloth than Tahar’s warriors wore. The other men were dressed just like him, very strangely, I noticed as I tried to scramble away.

Their swords hung from wide leather belts decorated richly with gold rather than left plain and dyed dark green as was the custom of Tahar’s men. They wore taller boots, better made. I could see well enough the fur lining—as the men stood close to me.

I screamed again, but the brute above me paid no heed, his fetid breath choking me as he pressed his mouth to mine and bruised my lips. I shoved him with all the strength I possessed, ignoring the small stones that dug into my back and the man’s weight that crushed my lungs.

Dread filled me, for I could see only one outcome, and its inevitability slowly crept into my limbs to paralyze them. I forced myself to fight on, but I could do little damage. He held me tightly.

“What is this about?” The commanding voice that cut through the night had the power to still the man.

The warrior’s weight lifted from me as he stood to attention with the others.

I gulped air as I grabbed the tattered remains of my clothes and held them together while I scrambled backward, falling into the creek. The frigid water burned my skin and stole my breath. I tried to climb out on the other side but slipped and fell back in. My gaze fluttered in panic to the men.

The one who rescued me stood tall, the moonlight gliding off his light hair. Not as thickly built as the other warriors, he wore magnificent garments studded with gemstones the likes of which I had never seen before. He seemed young, only a few years older than I. But young or not, he was in charge, the warriors’ attention on him as they waited for his command.

He had arrived just in time, and I thanked the spirits for him.

He looked me over as I finally managed to scramble out of the creek on the other side, dripping, shivering from the freezing water. I lifted my long braid that clearly marked me as a maiden. And I knew he understood, but from his annoyed shrug, I also knew he considered it beneath him to be involved in my plight.

“All this noise over a slave woman? Keep her quiet,” he said as he walked away.

~~~***~~~

CHAPTER FIVE

(The Palace Guard)

“Hear that?” The warrior who had grabbed me before waded through the water with large strides that gobbled up the distance between us.

The others stayed on the opposite bank, probably not wanting to ruin their boots, counting on their friend to bring me back.

“You be quiet now,” he murmured, as if trying to calm a skittish animal. “We will not harm you, girl. But a man is due some entertainment after a hard battle.”

In my head, I could hear my mother’s warning: if a Shahala healer lost her maidenhead before gaining her powers, those powers would never come to her but would be lost forever.

“I am a maiden. It is forbidden,” I pleaded as I leaped to run, stumbling on the uneven ground.

He reached me all too quickly.

“Nothing is forbidden to the Palace Guard.” He bent my arm back roughly as he pawed my breast and crushed my lips under his foul breath once again.

The Palace Guard.
The man who commanded them must have been the High Lord of the Kadar.

“A pretty one like you.” The one on me grunted into my mouth. “Time you learn to please a man.”

I tasted my own blood and fought hard as if for my life. I swore he would have to take my very breath before he could take the gift from me that I considered precious above everything.

He knocked me to the frozen ground and held me with one hand, pushing down his leggings with the other until I felt his naked skin against mine and his manly weapon poking hard into my thigh.

I went still with fear, which he must have taken as submission because he relaxed his hold and lifted his body to push my knees apart. But I jerked them up, and when he fell with a groan beside me, I broke away and ran toward Tahar’s men and the sentries. At least they respected the customs of their own land, and I knew they would not harm a maiden.

Over the rush of blood in my ears, I heard a man in the distance calling the Palace Guard to service, and I glanced back, my heart racing as fast as my feet, my lungs struggling for air.

The men cursed after me but responded to the call and lumbered off toward the buildings. Still, I feared they were not finished with me yet, and decided to take great care to avoid the Palace Guard in the future, avoid everything that had to do with the cruel High Lord of the Kadar who had denied me his mercy.

I hoped his visit with us would be short and the spirits would give me the cunning to successfully evade his men. I despised the Palace Guard for thinking themselves above the laws of their own land, but despised their High Lord more for allowing it to be so. Any of the Shahala Elders would have given their lives to protect the smallest of our people.

The leaders of a nation set the example for the rest. With a High Lord such as the Kadar’s, no wonder the rest of his people were brutal, thinking nothing of the pain of others. Behind the High Lord’s fair face hid a dark spirit. He had shown his true heart, and I knew I would never forget it.

I ran through the night without my jar, over the trampled snow, barely noticing the falling crystal flakes that had forever lost their magic for me.

I hoped to slip into Maiden Hall unnoticed and repair my clothes before anyone saw me, but when I reached the large room, Kumra waited in the middle, ready to lead the maidens to the feast.

She charged at me as soon as I entered. “What have you done?”

“The Palace Guard—” Holding my wet clothes together as best I could, I cast my gaze to the floor, unable to finish.

She hit me hard across the face, splitting my lip further. Not long before, a blow like that would have sent me sprawling on the floor, but I had grown stronger of late. I stood my ground before her.

“How dare you even speak to the Palace Guard?” She hit me again, backhanded this time, harder, angrier.

Blood trickled down my chin.

“You will stay here. I shall decide what to do with you in the morning.” She turned and led the girls from the hall, the set of her shoulders stiff and angry.

“She hates you because you are more beautiful than she is,” Lenya whispered as she passed by, flashing an encouraging smile.

I looked after her, stunned. Nobody outshone Kumra in beauty. But I understood that Lenya perhaps sought to comfort me, so I did not open my mouth to deny her kind words, for it would have been like throwing a gift back into the gift giver’s face.

I sat on my cot, not minding at all that I would miss the feast, only wishing I had something to eat. I rubbed my wrists where the warrior’s rough grip bruised the flesh, and thanked the spirits that I had been able to escape with such minor injuries.