Book 6, Chapter 34: All The Luck In The World
We sailed through the air with each gallop, no hooves touching the ground, then dirt kicking up in our wake, as my mount and I raced toward Cresida. On her knees, staring up into the sky, a blood shower was carried off in the wind, as the monster tore into her husband.
Another dropped its man, its prey, and the body fell away. They were almost done with the men, some already diving toward me and Cresida. I knew I couldn’t gallop to her, valiantly hefting her up behind me, as I didn’t have the physical strength. But that would have been faster.
A screech to my right, incoming monstrous woman, talons extended, I fell sideways off the saddle in the manner of the Mongolians when they evaded arrows, forgetting there were no stirrups, grabbed one of the leather posts and fell into the dirt, still holding tight to the reins. The horse wheeled around to a stop, yanking the reins out of my hands, the beast’s talons soared inches above my body, its wings beat wind into my eyes. I log-rolled away.
Standing, scanning the sky, more were angling to attack. I bolted toward Cresida, pushing her to the ground as one tried to take her. “Get yourself together! We have to get to the castle!”
“My husband!”
“He’s gone!”
A thump behind us, a soldier’s body crashing to the ground. I rushed over, tearing his sword out of its scabbard, the dagger, too, for good measure, not looking overlong at the jagged mess that was his neck, nor the blood-soaked armor.
Cresida screamed behind me.
One of them had its claws on her shoulders, but still flapping to stay aloft, and she batted at it. I threw the dagger into its temple, and it fell on her.
I ran over, pulled her out of that mess and, holding her hand, ran toward the castle. Streaks of red ran down her shoulders and into her dress.
I don’t know if the spell was broken, but more archers were loosing on the creatures now, giving us some respite. “We can make it, but we have to zigzag!”
“He’s free!”
“What? No!”
She pulled out of my grasp, running in the wrong direction.
The creature had released Gyges, and he slammed into the ground not far from where we were, bouncing up a bit, dirt pushed into the air.
As I ran toward her, another dove at me and I shoulder rolled diagonally away, my boots brushing its wingtips as it just missed. The next one came in at a much shallower angle, preventing me from trying that again. This time, I waited and, as it pivoted its body to aim its clawed feet toward me, I ran into it, slicing with the sword, cutting into its upper thighs and abdomen, sliding the blade along it, then continued, letting it screech and screech about the ground, as I raced to get to Cresida.
She was staring at Gyges’ remains. Like the man before, his throat was torn open, blood was everywhere, but no more was pumping out. The man was gone.
“Here,” I said, passing her the soldier’s sword, trying to break her focus, as I knelt down and took the captain’s sword and dagger.
Haltingly, as if she couldn’t believe it, she said, “He’s dead.”
“Mourn him later!” I pushed her toward the castle harder and faster until we were full on running. The first creature that dove for us got the dagger. The second soared over us as I tripped Cresida, pushing us both to the ground. Then, up and running again and, nearer the castle, I discarded my sword for speed. The closer we got to the gates, the more their arrows protected us. Less and less of the archers stood there staring at the naked women with wings, more and more took up their bows.
They slammed the portcullis down behind us, then a heavy wooden gate, also from above. Strange, I thought to myself, as most city walls and castles only have the one portcullis. I guess these guys were either more paranoid than most or just really liked barriers that raised and lowered. The wooden one boasted a shorter door cut into it, barred and locked. The soldiers around Cresida and I blinked and blinked, some shaking their heads, as if coming out of a daze, such was the power of those creatures.
“Cresida, your arms! Press on them while I get a medic.” I grabbed one of the soldiers, shaking him, “Get a medic or healer or whatever you call it here, now!”
At first, he appeared in shock, slowly coming out of it, and then nodded, rushing off.
“Shoulders. They’re starting to hurt now.”
“Yeah, the adrenaline, uh, heat of battle wearing off. We need to get vinegar on those wounds.”
The mage was simply staring at us, so I slapped him. “Are you still out of it?”
“Damnit, woman, yes! Ever since the blood got on me.” Holding his cheek, he moved his jaw up and down, then said, “That really smarts.”
“The blood breaks the spell? You’re certain about that?” If those creatures were a major part of the others’ attack on this world, that’d be key to stopping them. But, yuck, harvesting their blood didn’t seem fun and it’d almost certainly be a job for women.
A man stepped forward, wearing the black leather armor with gold trim of officers here, and said, “I take it you lot were with the messengers? What the hell were those things?”
I asked him, “What rank are you soldier?”
“Lieutenant, ma’am. I need to know what’s going on and where those came from. Does the enemy army have the power to summon such creatures?”
“Excellent, Lieutenant and good questions. I’m, this is unusual, but I’m Princess Cayce, original heir to the Laemacian throne and ruling monarch of Nevarrelund. Emperor Searcian sent me here to take charge of this city and its garrison.” I flashed him my warmest smile and a little head nod.
He looked at me like I was absolutely insane. “Ma’am?”
“I have documents. Signed by your emperor. If you could take us to whoever is running the city now, I will hand them over and they will back up what I am saying.”
If only, I thought to myself, there were some way of proving that I was who I said I was. Like an insignia or a royal ring that couldn’t be duplicated. Or, I don’t know, my godly powers. Those, those would work just as well as a driver’s license.
Former, my nagging voice said. Former godly powers.
“You may pass the documents to me and I’ll-”
“Excuse me?” I walked into his personal space, forcing him to step back out of surprise, “You’re a lieutenant and you want to see the documents I carry? The documents that are directly from Emperor Searcian? Is that how little you value your life?”
Putting his hands up, waving them a little, he said, “Ma’am, ma’am, I do apologize. If you’ll-”
“Arrange an escort for us to the main hall. There we shall see the proper authorities.”
He didn’t respond obsequiously, but cocked his head sideways, saying, “My lady.”
As he turned around, the tension gripping my body suddenly faded, knees almost buckling but I somehow caught myself. Closed my eyes, took some slow breaths, my right hand was shaking, the adrenaline draining away. “Jesus.”
“Are you all right?” asked Talaren, his face still flushed.
Putting both hands to my forehead, I ran my nails through my hair, “Yeah. Just, that was a lot. Anyways, where’d the soldier go?”
“He said he was getting transportation.”
From up above, “They’re out of range!”
“Cease loosing!” A few moments later, “I said cease loosing! You’re just wasting arrows.”
Nearby, a lower ranked officer gathered men and horses, arranging a group to retrieve the bodies. I led Cresida and Talaren away from the entrance, away from the massed soldiers, and we waited near a cobblestone road.
The soldier finally returned, leading a woman dressed in a rough brown dress and carrying a bucket. “Here, ma’am,” he said.
“Both of you ladies have blood all over you. Who needs immediate help?”
Gesturing at Cresida, I said, “She does. Her shoulders are wounded. Can you treat them?”
“I’ll do what I can.” The woman set her bucket down in front of Cresida, the sharp scent of vinegar there, “I’ll need to pull your dress down a little to take a look at the wounds.”
Stepping away, the city around seemed to wake up, but it was really me suddenly adjusting to being enclosed by buildings and men rather than out in the forest.
Sweat permeated the air. I didn’t notice before, but now did, it was crowded by the gates. Pikemen in a semicircle, putting their pikes up, archers behind them. There, a woman carried two buckets attached to a stick over her shoulder, she passed out water to the troops. Further along, another ring of shield bearing soldiers and in between them, slingers. Beyond even those, houses. The soldiers were relaxing their guard, sheathing swords, removing stones from slings, putting arrows back in their quivers.
A cloud of vanilla tobacco wafted over, and I looked. Soldiers began to sit in groups of eight around tall, elaborately carved brass pipes. Atop the brass cylinder, coal with metal mesh covering it, chunks of tobacco slowly roasting away, tubes coming off the bottom. As the soldier puffed away, water gurgled about. These were hookah where I came from, water pipes. It’d remove some of the harshness and some of the tar.
I thought to myself that a stimulant is the last thing I wanted after battle, but to each their own. Who knows, maybe that wasn’t only tobacco. The hashashim used hookah to smoke their namesake, hash, after all, before the English switched it to ‘assassin.’ Probably a good thing hash didn’t get the same name change.
Hooves clattering on cobblestones and our wagon came to.
I felt awful, then, for amidst all the novelty and noisiness of the city, Cresida’s quiet weeping finally drew my attention. I drew her into a hug but couldn’t find the words to comfort her.
***
Despite having the windows down, the wagon was hot and musty and when we bounced on an errant cobblestone, dust raised off the cushions.
Cresida, streaks of cleanliness from her eyes to her jawline, stared at me with deep resentment bordering on hatred. Lifting her chin, she said, “You are no god.”
I didn’t want to argue. “Yeah.”
“You lied then.” She turned to the mage, “Why’d you lie about her?”
Without looking at her, his arms crossed and staring out the window, he said, “I did not lie about her.”
“You still think she’s a god after all we’ve been through? Why didn’t she stop the enemy army? Why didn’t she destroy those creatures?!”
“When,” he said softly, “is the last time your prayers were answered?”
Giving up on him, she said, “You disgust me, Cayce.”
I bit back telling her that she was better off without that jerk. And then fell inward a bit. Yeah, I didn’t like the guy, and yeah, he was pretty gross as a husband, but I didn’t wish him dead. Though, he was also a terrible military officer. I had to give him that.
She’d be better off, I told myself, after the grieving. Find a better man. Though, maybe not. In this ancient society, with their patriarchy and harsh social inequalities, maybe she’d just become a laundrywoman or something. I reached across and took her hand, giving her a squeeze.
Cresida narrowed her eyes, then faced the window, but left her hand in mine.
The further we went, the more the city came alive. People milling about on the streets at first. Young children, some taller, some toddlers. Then, older kids moving about, carrying items from here to there, a few dingy shops, smoke wafting out, then suddenly open markets with wooden stalls, colored cloth above each one, people hawking dried beans, nuts, fresh fruit of all kinds and, further in, dried and spiced meats, sausages hanging off wooden posts, even snakes with their bellies emptied, their flesh dried and probably smoked, then full animals. Rabbits, marmots, someone skinning a deer, larger and darker chunks that were probably elk sitting in storefronts, but I couldn’t be sure, and even a full bear carcass resting on two barrels.
Huh. So, my kingdom, all sparse and basically just weapons manufacturing and we called these guys barbarians. I have to admit, I felt a little envious. Well, they didn’t have whiskey for all their efforts. That and that alone gave me comfort.
Until I remembered that I was also Laemacia’s rightful ruler. Well, not me personally, but this body sure as hell was. Guess I’ll just have to overthrow Serce. Definitely not marrying the guy, despite his handsome figure. Not something I could pursue until I learned more about the politics here, though. That was coming soon enough, but all I really had on my side was Serce’s endorsement.
By the time we’d arrived at the main government building, which was a massive structure, the limits of which I couldn’t discern from my vantage point, stretching on and on, I realized that not once did I detect the odors of the latrine. That piqued my interest. Had they invented sewage systems?
The wagon door opened, lieutenant standing at the ready, proper honorifics given, an armed escort came marching down the stairs, a pair of soldiers stopping at each one, stamping their spears down while pivoting to face each other, unmoving.
Walking up the steps, with the pomp, it was hard not to feel important. And I suppose I was, given that only I understood the absolute horrors that they faced, that everything they’d built, every last one of them, was utterly dependent upon me taking Talaren to that temple and somehow evicting, defeating or bargaining with the Others.
Yet these people were entirely unaware of these dire necessities. So, I oddly felt reassured by their pomp when I should feel exactly the opposite, reassured because I was being treated with the respect due an empress, but horrified and lost since not a single person here was taking me seriously, nor acting decisively. Serce was literally fighting a war with the evil nuns over me when they should be banding together to resist their true enemy.
What would the nuns think when they brought me, kicking and screaming, back to their temple, expecting to grow younger, only to be eaten? Or worse.
Up the steps we went, soldiers bowing all the way. Cresida somehow distracted by the massive buildings – and I was, too! – the wall was somehow smooth stone, though it had to be piled upon each other, there were no cracks at all. The entrance high and arched, more soldiers within.
I wondered, then, how could the nun’s army challenge this city? For it seemed to me bursting with soldiers. But perhaps these were mere guards, protecting the royalty from its populace.
A greeting party of people dressed in the finest of silks and cottons of all colors, billowing out, even the men, who also carried curved and gilded daggers and long thin swords, met us at the top. The distaste for us was apparent in their eyes for we, of course, were covered in grime and blood and smelled of smoke and horses and worse.
To my surprise, the youngest lady, in her twenties, with purple eyes like mine and light-brown hair with golden tips, blush and lip gloss, stepped forward, giving me a curtsy, “Princess Cayce, it is an honor to make your acquaintance. I am Casonia, First Consort to Emperor Searcian.”
With a great deal of relief, I returned her curtsy, “The honor is all mine.” Relief because, well, perhaps I could talk him into marrying her and forgetting entirely about me.
She continued, “Am I to understand he appointed you Empress? He sent you here to claim this city?”
“I have it in writing. Here,” I slung my pack on the ground, bent over opening it, rummaged around, eventually finding, then passing her the scrolls. “A duplicate lies outside the gates. We were attacked, most of our party killed.”
Casonia unsealed the scroll case, withdrew the rolled-up paper, cracked its seal, and began reading. Her eyebrows raised and, despite what was written, a slight smile appeared on her face. Maybe she wanted Serce to get married to someone else. I could sympathize. “I see. First, I have been remiss.” She turned to Talaren, also giving him a curtsy, “Grand Magister Talaren, it is good to have you among us. We shall find you apartments befitting your station.”
One of the entourage stepped forward, “If you’ll come with me, sir.”
Putting up my hands, I said, “Wait. I’d like the mage to remain near my person. In the same apartments.”
Several of the people seemed aghast and looked at each other, older women shaking their heads, but the consort nodded, “Of course.” She approached me, smiling as if we were sharing a private joke and said, somewhat quietly, “Let’s just get you all cleaned up first, shall we? I’m sure you would love a bath, but not . . . together.”
“Ah, yeah.” Slight embarrassment kicked in then, filthy as we were, among these clean royals with their perfect etiquette. “We will also be needing a change of clothes.”
“And this is your handmaiden?”
Cresida cleared her throat with some annoyance. “No. I am-”
Interrupting, I said, “Lady Cresida, recent widow to the late Captain Gyges of the Mages’ Conclave. She must remain with myself and Talaren. And she could use some medicine for her wounds.”
Cresida looked embarrassed, still pressing the cloth against her left shoulder, “Here,” she lifted up the cloth, “for my shoulder.”
Hands together, Casonia nodded, “I’m very sorry to hear of your husband’s passing. Are the wounds very deep? Would you like to bathe with Princess Cayce? At least, as well as you can, and I’ll see about finding proper bandages and something to ease the pain.”
“Not so deep, thank you. A bath would be lovely,” Cresida said, not at all sounding happy, and in as flat a voice as possible. I couldn’t blame her for that.
“Then follow me, my ladies.” We did, and Talaren was taken in a different direction.
The consort led us through several large rooms connected by doors set in the center of each, almost a hallway of rooms. Each were adorned with painting after painting, mirrors in between these, tables and chairs in the corners and low tables surrounded by pillows, ornate hookah pipes nearby. Passing through one room, people were lounging about, smoking. In others, sitting around the tables, eating, perhaps discussing important or trivial affairs. They paused to watch us pass.
After so many rooms, we finally came to a long hallway that turned ninety degrees at one point, coming to large wooden doors and guards standing at the ready. Passing through these, another hallway, and Casonia stopping at the next set of double doors, pulling one open, bowing slightly and gesturing with her arm, “Through this door, the baths. I will direct servants to bring you fresh clothing, beverages and I will join you later for dinner to discuss . . . events.” The smile she gave me was bright and happy, promising a good time for us all later.
“Thank you, Casonia. I’m looking forward to getting to know you.” I then entered, Cresida behind me, and the door boomed shut. A bolt slid into place, and we could hear the scraping of wood, which could only be a bar being lowered into place.
I whirled around to find no handles on this side of the door. It was simply sheer hardwood. I tried it anyways, pushing against the wood, nothing. No movement at all. And that’s when I heard the giggling of girls in the room beyond the hall we were in, light laughter of young women, tinkling of a large fountain, and the deeper tones of older women talking.
Damn.
I backed up against the wall, put my face to my hands, and slid down, pulling my knees up.
All the crap I went through to get Talaren here in one piece. All the monsters we fought, the armies chasing us. That bastard!
I reached out with my hand to the door, rage filling me, trying to release the beast and blast it apart, but nothing.
“Cayce?”
I didn’t answer.
Cresida stepped away, lightly and softly walking down the hallway toward the voices.
I didn’t. Leaned back against the wall, cursing myself – I was an idiot to trust him! There was no need to follow her. For I knew where he’d sent us. And it made me all the angrier, all the more filled with betrayal, and all the more helpless.
Serce had just trapped me, us, in his harem.
Author's Note
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