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there. Since learning of Ladonys and Laeoli's deaths, she had slept each
night, but woke still tired and unrested. She felt numb most of the time.
Tagalong and Laurelyanne were ever at her side each day, leaving her only when
they were certain that she had fallen asleep. She had scarcely spoken to
anyone in days now. She had her sorrow under control enough to present a
stolid face to everyone, but no one could police her dreams where she saw her
family laying dead before her. She had left them behind when she fled seven
years ago, thinking them safe, and now they were dead and she could not stop
blaming herself, running haunted what if's through her mind over and over
again.
She settled on her cot, pulled her pipe out and smoked for just a couple of
breaths before putting it aside because she found no comfort in it. Aejys
pulled a bottle of whiskey from her saddlebags, popped the cork, and began to
drink it straight. When her brain began to fog, she laid back and slept.
* * * *
Tamlestari sat before the fire in her room, her gloved hands carefully
fitting the death runed arrowheads to new shafts. She bound them with gut and
then hooded each arrow with a black silken cover. She knew why Aejys had
driven her off, rejected her that Aejys feared for her safety and their
children's' but her heart was heavy. Tears ran freely down her face. She
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pulled her gloves off, wiping her cheeks and eyes. The children rolled in her
womb, kicking her in tiny jerks. She slid the arrows into a new quiver she had
bought just for them. Then she folded her hands across her swelling belly,
feeling the kicks with her hands. New life. Feeling them comforted her amidst
all the death that had followed her on the road. "Aejys, Aejys, please come
back to me, to us."
If Margren harmed Aejys these arrows would surely kill her. Tamlestari could
more and more easily imagine shooting Margren with the death runed arrows.
Whatever Margren had become, she would die.
* * * *
Disaster came silently in the night while the camp slept. Force had failed
Margren, so at Mephistis' urging, they tried stealth instead. Mephistis had
been unable to discover whether the nightmare mage who had turned their
sending was in the company and had no wish to risk another engagement with him
without knowing what he was and where he had come from. Mephistis led three of
his most powerful sa'necari to the edge of the encampment. They knelt beside a
broad pine, its low hanging branches the perfect concealment, waiting for the
watch to pass them. A pair of Sharani knights paused in the moonlight silver
gilding the edges of their armor. Mephistis reached out with his power,
extending his hand in a brief arcane gesture to snare their minds. Had they
been ha'taren, the spell would never have worked, the paladins would have
sensed it and resisted. The knights stood, staring out into nothing while a
sign from Mephistis sent two sa'necari up behind them. The sa'necari quietly
dragged the unresisting knights into their place of concealment and began to
feed.
Mephistis nodded to his third and they moved deeper into the camp. The others
would feed several times that night; many who slept would not wake. Sooner or
later they would encounter ha'taren, of that Mephistis was certain. The other
pair had been instructed to avoid the ha'taren, to flee rather than fight.
Only Mephistis and his companion, Bodramet, had sufficient power to guarantee
victory over a ha'taren not taken by surprise. He would not needlessly risk
his sa'necari this early in the final game. Solstice was still a few weeks off
and he would need all of them then.
They reached the innermost circle of tents unopposed and unnoticed. Several
wynderjyns stirred uneasily as they passed behind them, sensing something but
as yet uncertain of its nature, for Mephistis' power cloaked Bodramet and
himself almost entirely from their keen senses. He had left nothing to chance,
scrying the camp on its march to be certain of which tent housed Aejys. He
found the tent easily, slicing the back open with his blade.
Aejys slept in a fog of alcohol. His hands closed on her throat. She woke at
his touch with a cry of alarm, twisting and reaching for her sword, which
leaned against the head of the cot. Mephistis' hand became talons and he
ripped open the half healed wound in her shoulder. Aejys screamed, loosing her
sword to the pain. Mephistis struck her hard in the face, sending her spinning
into darkness. He dragged her out the back where he and Bodramet took her
arms, rising up and away into the night before anyone in the awakening camp
could spot them.
* * * *
"Who cried out?" Geoa Odaren emerged from her tent, buckling on her sword.
Several ha'taren were going from tent to tent, checking.
A cry went up from the perimeter. "Sa'necari! Sa'necari over here!"
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A ha'taren put a horn to her lips, sounding the alarm. Six drew swords and
headed for the perimeter. Another four moved to Geoa Odaren's side to protect
their liege lord. Tagalong came at a rolling trot, scanning the growing crowd.
"Where's Aejys?" Geoa's gray eyes met Tagalong's and they both knew the
answer.
Tagalong bolted for the tent. She saw the blood on the bedclothes and the
slit back. A long howl of wordless grief tore from her throat. Geoa Odaren
dropped to her knees beside Tagalong, gripping her shoulders and shaking her.
"Where have they taken her?"
"Oh gods, oh gods..." Tagalong sobbed brokenly. She had been so certain when
they first set out that she could protect Aejys and now her dearest friend was
gone.
"Dragonshead. That is where they have gone," Hanadi spoke archly from the
tent entrance, Brundarad pressing in around her legs. "It is Margren's citadel
according to the documents."
Geoa shot her a sharp, doubting look. "No one's ever found the way into the
underground ruins."
"Hmnph! Margren did," Hanadi said with a contemptuous snort. "And Brundarad
can." She ran her hands over the wiry hair on Brundarad's head. "Go,
Brundarad, find us a way in."
The shadow hound slid around Hanadi to run. Small hands caught at his fur. He
paused, looking down into Grymlyken's tear-streaked yet resolute face. "Take
me with you," the pixie said.
Brundarad gave an incredulous snort.
"Someone will need to get inside and find her."
Brundarad lowered his haunches and Grymlyken climbed aboard, settling behind
his shoulders. The Shadow hound barked, short and sharp.
"Yeah, I'll hold on tight," Grymlyken said grimly.
They bounded off into the night.
* * * *
All of Aejys' units, along with half of Geoa Odaren's, followed Tag and
Hanadi, riding hard for Dragonshead, their ouroborus pennon flapping in the
breeze. Josh watched them go until they were lost from sight, grief etching
the lines in his weather-beaten alcoholic face still deeper and beneath the
grief lay a burning anger. He took a swig from his pocket flask which now
contained Laurelyanne's brew instead of his usual whiskey, his awareness of
the burning sensations in his body faded, but the heat in his heart and soul
did not dissipate. Someone had to beard Margren in her den in Castle Rowan and
he had chosen that duty for himself. He knew he would recognize her instantly,
for he had touched her aura and glimpsed her face when he slammed her against
the wall of her unholy sanctum.
Ever since that day when he had begun to open up to Eliahu and Laurelyanne
about the terror and anguish of his past, he had also started to feel
comfortable with the power. He had always known how to use the power on an
instinctual, unconscious level, almost as if he had come into this life fully
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