Duality (13 page)

Hani`ena stood in full battle gear Loren had never seen afore, glowing with Her Light.

The Lady turned to Loren.
“Give Me thy sword.”
Willing his ice-cold fingers to the task, Loren pulled Justice from its sheath and presented it to Her. Her hands swept upward to enclose the flat of the blade.
“‘Justice’ indeed, thou art well named. My justice shalt thou stand for now, to cleave the darkness of the abyss. Champion, she called for. Champion shalt thou be.”
The Lady turned the weapon to grasp its hilt and touched the flat of Justice’s toshi blade to Loren’s shoulders.

Goddess-Power seared away the pain and weariness. He was encased in Light, and armor. He looked down at a glowing toshi breastplate over dragonscale chainmail. Stamped into the breastplate was a handheld torch backlit by a rising sun.

“Strength I grant thee, son of My dawn, to fight the darkness and save thy other half. Arise.”

He sheathed Justice across his back, strapped on the rest of his weapons and stepped over to Hani`ena.

Moira and Trystan never moved. Niadh and Ealga watched.

“Now go with My blessings, champion of My Light. My daughter’s secrets must be kept safe. Do not fail Us
.
”
Then She was gone.

Loren leaped into the saddle. Hani`ena snorted at his unbidden signal and launched herself into the muddy waters. Trees whipped past in the blur of Goddess-Speed as she splashed southwest in the unswerving straightness of a shot arrow, back toward Safehold. They sliced through the mists, a glowing comet in the night. The few mortals out and about made wards of protection as the white mare and her rider streaked by.

Dawn tomorrow… Dawn tomorrow…
The words rang out to the rhythm of Hani`ena’s unfaltering stride. Loren heard her hooves hit solid earth. He listened for a change in her cadence, a hitch in her breath that showed her tiring. There was none. She vibrated with power, not weakness. Loren relaxed and settled in for a long ride.

The stars circled in the lightening sky. Streaks of pinks and purples stretched out behind him as Hani`ena galloped into Jakop’s Crossroads. Loren wheeled Hani`ena to a momentary halt in front of Artur Barach’s stables.

Artur was already up and limped out to greet them. His eyes widened at the signs of Goddess-Power, and he dropped to his knees. “Your orders, champion?”

Hani`ena snorted and pawed the ground. Sparks shimmered under her hoof. Still she breathed as if she’d been resting all night.

“We ride for Safehold Keep, to avert a burning,” Loren stated. He glared at the hero of Fortune Fields and drew forth Justice. “Do you aid or hinder?”

Artur straightened. The stable door opened, and Conn-Blacksmith joined him. “We aid, champion.” The smith nodded.

“How many?” Loren asked.

Conn considered the question. “Able to fight? A dozen here. As many from Rainbow Falls, mayhaps half that from White Pines.”

“We go for Dara. Give us a clear path and get away clean after.” Loren’s eyes narrowed. “Get your families out. You had your plan. Use it.”

“Already done. Right after Jalad’s courier delivered his ultimatum, they made haste away.” Rage glittered in Artur’s eyes. “He won’t hesitate t’ strike th’ innocent.”

Conn’s jaw tightened. “It ends here.”

Loren shook his head. “Nay. It does not. Not this day. This day we save Dara and escape. Regroup in the south. Soon this darkness shall fall, to a world united.”

Artur handed him a full pack. “Rations for the trip north.”

Hani`ena wheeled away and raced due west to Rainbow Falls. She did not stop, but slowed down enough for early rising villagers to mark the visitation. “Fear not this darkness,” Loren called. “Flee toward the Light. She has not forsaken you.” He circled the mare southward toward what was left of White Pines, repeating his message in the ruin of that decimated village.

Hani`ena pounded toward the rising sun, for Safehold. Loren reached back for Justice and pointed it straight betwixt Hani`ena’s flattened ears. The evidence of Jalad’s butchery came into view. The stench of death reached him first. Bodies hung from the stone walls. Fly-crusted heads on pikes lined the approach. Loren braced against the echo of treachery. The malicious glee of the conquerors rode a wave of despair from the survivors. Loren sought Dara’s light in the chaos. Hani`ena slowed to a showy trot as she passed betwixt the two rows of pikes.

Jalad sat on his throne on a dais, above the commoners and next to the black-robed truth-seeker. Below them on the grounds of the courtyard a ring of Boars, two deep, encircled Dara’s pyre. Loren smelled the oil drenched, freshly cut hazel wood. The shimmering forms of a dozen fading sprites winked in and out of his sight. They could not escape.

Loren faltered. Jalad dared desecrate… The magnitude of evil shook him. The Other gloated in unholy triumph. Dara’s pain hammered into Loren. The Lady’s vision had not prepared him for her reality. She must have stood upright on sheer willpower alone.

Justice flared with Her Light and rang out its song. Loren pointed it straight at Jalad’s black heart. “Release her and leave this land never to return. Go back to your marches. Leave these people in peace.”

Jalad raised a hand toward him. Hate, fear and despair crashed over Loren. The Lady’s shields held. Justice glowed brighter as it deflected the attack back at the lord of Westmarche. The Other swept a hand toward Dara. The oil soaked wood burst into flames and a dozen sprites screamed as they perished, bound to the end to their trees.

“Loren.” Dara screamed as the flames flared around her. The dark cloud of her terror choked him.

Hani`ena shrieked with the Lady’s wrath and charged straight toward the fire. The nearest guard rushed to stop her and was the first to die under the sweep of Justice and the flailing of Hani`ena’s hooves. The courtyard erupted like a broken hornets’ nest. Men of Riverhead pulled forth hidden weapons and joined the fray.

The mare spun like a whirlwind. Loren clung like a burr to her saddle. A Boar grabbed his leg, but Conn appeared, a long-knife in one hand, his armorer’s hammer in the other. The blacksmith brought the hammer down atop the Boar’s head with a wet crunch. The enemy dropped beneath Hani`ena’s hooves.

Conn jumped back. “Go,” he ordered Loren.

Smoke from the fire stung Loren’s eyes. Hani`ena tried to circle upwind, but the path was blocked by the two aides of the truth-seeker. They raised staves in a cross of defiance. “You shall not pass, defiler of the One Truth. We are protected against your demon goddess.”

Justice swept down. A tonsured head rolled aside its falling body. The other priest gaped, but stood fast, unable to comprehend his own death even as Hani`ena’s front hooves smashed his face.

Flames licked at the mare’s legs. She reared, Goddess-Power not withstanding a horse’s natural fear of fire. The ends of her mane curled and crisped. Loren’s skin blistered in the intense heat. “
Courage, wind-sister.”
Desperation poured into the call. He saw Dara behind the rising wall of smoke and flame. Her head lolled on her shoulder, eyes closed.

Loren spun Hani`ena toward Jalad. “This is my final warning. Be exiled or be destroyed.”

The Other laughed at him. “You’re too late.”

Loren’s jaw tightened.
“Come on, partner. It must be now.”
He clamped his legs around Hani`ena. Her muscles bunched as she found her courage and leaped into the heart of the pyre.

Dara sagged, flames eating through the ropes holding her up. From their precarious stance atop the burning wood, Loren leaned out over Hani`ena’s side. It was a gaming move practiced over countless months of training. With perfect balance, his left thigh molded to the side of the saddle, muscles pulled taut against the weight of his body. Justice in his left hand, he encircled Dara’s arm with his free hand and yanked her up.

Hani`ena launched herself onto the far side, into the path of choking smoke. She whirled as Loren righted himself and sheathed Justice. She stopped long enough for Loren to steady Dara, cradling the unconscious woman in his singed arms.

“Flee,” he called. “Flee to safety. Fight another day.”

Jalad’s roar of outrage followed them as Hani`ena bore her burden away. Straight northward. Toward the mountains. Toward freedom. Toward safety.

Chapter Seven

Hani`ena slowed to a walk, then halted, nostrils flared red, sides heaving from two days and nights of an unbroken gallop at Goddess-speed.
“Rest. Now
.
”

“Good idea
.
”
Loren was exhausted. His arms tightened around Dara. She had not awakened once during the long flight northward. He saw a thicket aside the path.
“Through there. We can rest unseen.”

Hani`ena eyed the long thorns.
“You cannot be serious.”

He bowed his head, closed his eyes and extended his hands toward the thicket, palms forward, fingers interlaced. “Spirit of earth, mother, hear my plea. Hide us from unfriendly eyes. By the Lady I request.”

The hedge rustled, razor-edged branches curled back to reveal an opening. Hani`ena dropped her head and stepped through into a small clearing. The brush entwined back into place, more impenetrable than afore.

He raised face and hands skyward. “My thanks, mother.” He looked down at Dara’s still pale face. He needed to find out what her injuries were. Tossing his right leg over Hani`ena’s withers, he shifted Dara and took a deep breath.

“Spirit of air and wind, sister, I invoke a feather drop. Make me float to the earth feather light, feather slow, so I injure not my companion.”

Wind chime laughter flowed around him.
“Granted.”

He floated from Hani`ena’s back. “My thanks, sister.”

The white mare began circling to cool herself down.

He laid Dara on the mossy ground. His cloak would shield her from the dampness. She was not chilled, was warm, in fact, but he needed to get a fire going. He needed the light and warmth for himself when darkness fell.

Hani`ena stopped aside him, and he loosened her girth two notches. She tossed her head and returned to circling.

He gathered dry kindling and deadwood. “Spirit of air and wind, sister, hide this smoke.” The fire crackled, but the smoke disappeared at the edge of the clearing.

Dara’s eyes flew open. “Nay—”

Loren crouched aside her. “Ssh, be still,” he soothed. “You are safe. There is naught to fear here.”

“Fire—”

“Different fire. Much smaller. See?” He indicated the small campfire.

She relaxed, then her eyes widened. “Loren? It’s you? I was dreaming.” She tried to raise a hand to his blistered cheek, but froze. “Your face—”

“Naught that shall not trance-heal.” He brushed tangled hair from her sooty, sweat-streaked forehead.

“Hani`ena?”

The mare stepped close and nuzzled Dara’s filthy cheek.

“Thank…you.”

Surprise flashed in Hani`ena’s eyes.
“Tell her she is most welcome.”

“She says you are welcome.”

“Take care of her. She must be…tired.”

Loren pulled off the saddle and blanket, took a currycomb and brush from his saddle bag and began raking the drying dust and sweat from Hani`ena’s coat. When he finished, he unfolded the saddle blanket and threw it over her.

Dara stirred. “She must be thirsty…”

“You go. Seek north. I shalt watch
.
”

“You are right. We need water. Hani`ena shall stand watch while I go. There is no better friend to have at your side.” Hani`ena’s love seeped into his heart. He laid a hand on her muzzle, then grabbed the waterskin.

Dara closed her eyes as he left.

He returned with a full waterskin. He held it out to Hani`ena, who eyed it with amusement. “
For you two. I shalt get my own.”
The mare left on the path he had taken. Loren got his cup from the pack and hauled the water over to Dara. Filling the cup, he lifted Dara’s head, ignoring the filth and stench that was not her fault.

She opened her eyes. “You’re back.”

“Ssh. Drink.” He held the cup to her lips, encouraging her to swallow until the cup was empty. Only then did he refill and drain it himself. “Dara? How bad is it?”

“Sprained back and shoulder. Two broken ribs, right side.” She smiled wanly. “Always stood pain well. Little breaths. Not so bad.”

“Can you heal yourself?”

She shook her head. “Iron-bound. Poison. Don’t know how to…reverse the spell.”

He cursed at being unable to heal her outright. “We shall bind the ribs then, to keep them still. There are no willow or hazel trees close. I looked. Is there anything else I can get you for the pain?”

She panted and struggled to speak betwixt shallow breaths. “Black moss. Long fringes. Grows around spotted mushrooms. Crush with equal hot water. Place under bindings. Deadly inside, but works outside. Can’t reuse bowl, though. Must destroy. Too dangerous. Lingers.”

“Black moss. Got it.” He went in search and in the shadow of the hedge he saw some. His skin crawled at its perilous touch. He eased it from its loamy bed and brought it back. “I found a hollowed-out piece of bark I can use as a bowl and burn afterward.” He mixed the remedy with a stick, then applied it to her injuries, binding them with a length of cloth.