The False Martyr (13 page)

The rolling man hit a
bush, slammed into it with his back and stopped. The branches held
him upside-down, tangled around him so that he was lost somewhere
inside with only his feet sticking from the top. He screamed,
crying out in frustration or pain or fear. And the creatures came
at him. They closed on the bush as one, were drawn to it like iron
filings to a magnet. From every direction, they swept in on that
bush with no regard for any other aspect of their
surroundings.

“
Fire!” Jaret yelled. A
dozen arrows released. A dozen more rose from quivers. The
creatures fell. Gathered in a clearing twenty paces away, attention
focused on the screaming man trapped before them, the archers could
not miss. Firing up a steep hill at running targets that were
moving erratically through heavy cover, the archers, for all their
skill, would have been lucky to hit a few of the creatures. Now,
they were sitting ducks. They did not even know what was happening
until the second set of arrows had struck, until two-thirds of
their number were on the ground. The final eight looked up in time
to see the archers load their third volley, but it was too late.
The archers dropped four more of them as they charged. The
swordsmen at their sides took care of the rest. It was over almost
before it began.

“
Recover arrows,” Jaret
said. He somehow knew that the threat was passed, that there were
no more creatures or soldiers accompanying these. “Make sure all
those abominations are dead. And bring me the monk.”

“
Who is he?” Lieutenant
Caspar asked.

Jaret had no idea. He was not even sure how
he knew that the man was a member of the Church. In the blur of
motion, he had barely even been able to discern his brown robes,
but he somehow knew that those were the correct words to say. “I
have no idea, but I know that he has to come with us.”

Chapter 8

The 16
– 19
^th
Day of Summer

Ipid was already at his
desk when Eia began to wake. He watched her rouse, stretching
underneath the cotton sheet. She rolled, reached for him, then
opened her eyes when she came up empty. Pulling the hair from her
eyes, she propped herself against a pillow. “Good morning,” she
croaked. The sheet remained tangled around her legs but left the
rest of her bare. A smile split her sleep-creased face as she
struggled to get the mounds of hair under control. Watching her,
Ipid wondered how she ever got a comb through the tangled mass of
curls. He rose from his seat and crouched on the bed to kiss
her.

“
That’s nice,” she said
when he pulled away. “Would be nicer if you were still in here with
me.” She held back the sheet.

Ipid kissed her again but
did not take her invitation. “Not now, my dear. My mind is already
whirling, and I’m afraid I couldn’t give you the attention you
deserve.”

“
Your attention wasn’t
what I was looking for.” Eia smiled mischievously and reached for
him. He pulled back and she laughed. “I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I
promise.” She pulled the sheet up over her chest and batted her
eyes. “Is this better?”

Ipid ran his hand along
her cheek, pushing back the hair that seemed unwilling to retreat.
“I brought up some food. I can barely boil water, so it’s not
much.” He reached to the table beside the bed and lifted a tray. As
promised, it contained a few slices of stale bread, a chunk of
white cheese, and a small bowl of red jam.

Eia smiled. “It has been
some time since a man has brought me breakfast in bed. If you’d
managed eggs, I might have considered it a joining proposal.” Ipid
retracted and stuttered, which just brought more laughter from Eia.
“Do not worry. Those of my order are not allowed to be joined. In
that alone, we are like your counselors.” She laughed again. “I am
not like the women you have known. I do not define myself by the
man I have snared. I can be with you, can love you, can be your
friend and partner without our lives being inexorably
tied.”

Ipid was certainly not
ready to be joined again, but he was still not sure how he felt
about what Eia had said. If they were not committed to each other,
what was to keep her from finding another as easily as she’d found
him? He knew that she was a free spirit, so what was to keep her
from flitting away?

“
You worry too much,” Eia
laughed, seeming to sense his fear – which, given her abilities,
she probably was. “I am very fond of you. I will be with you as
long and as much as I can, but is it not inevitable that
relationships, that feelings change? It may be that we are a
constant compliment, or that we come together and drift apart many
times, or that this week is all that we are allotted.”

Ipid heard and understood
everything she said. He agreed with it, of course. But looking at
Eia, hearing her words, thinking about losing her left him feeling
hollowed out. “Of course, I . . . I would expect nothing more.” He
tried to sound as detached as she had, but the words rang
hollow.

“
Sweet man,” Eia cooed.
She seemed, if anything, invigorated. “That is why I want us to
make the most of the time we have, because we never know how long
it will last.” She smiled, but her expression was different. Ipid
could not pin it down, but that smile made his insides quiver like
a rabbit looking upon the smile of a fox.

“
Now,” Eia continued as
she spread jam on her bread. “What is it that has your attention?
Maybe if I help you resolve it, I can get that attentions back to
me.” She smiled, and Ipid felt his confidence returning.
It’s reality
, he told
himself,
and she’s just keeping us
connected to it. She is right. Where did you think this was going
to go? Two days away and you’ve already forgotten everything that
has happened, everything you have to do, everything that is
balancing on your shoulders. Could you give that up, let all those
people down just to be with her?
The
answer was obvious, but he sighed, wishing it was not.

Ipid returned to his desk,
lifted a sheet from it, and turned in his chair to Eia. “I’m trying
to figure out how to get the Chancellor to listen to Arin’s demands
and seriously consider accepting them. The problem is, I have no
idea what Arin’s demands will be.”

“
Hmmm,” Eia said as she
chewed. “I do not know what he will ask. I am sure that even he
does not know.” She paused. “You see, the Darthur are ruled by
their women. He has returned to them as the Darthur always do after
a Battle of Testing. They will set the terms for your people to
join the clans, and because your people are k’amach-tur, they will
not be negotiable.”

“
So what do they usually
ask? Will they want gold or weapons or slaves? The terms will
greatly impact the Chancellor’s reaction.”

Eia laughed around a
mouthful of cheese. “That is obvious.” Ipid felt himself blush.
“I’m sorry,” she continued. “I understand what you’re asking, and
though I can’t know exactly what they’ll demand, I can give you an
idea based on what they did on our side of the mountains.” Eia took
another bite then fought her hair. “Do you mind if I take care of
this before we go any further?”

Ipid could not help but
chuckle. “I’ve never understood how you women can stand to have all
that on your heads. Do you know how much time I save by being
bald?” He rubbed the smooth space on the top of his
head.

Eia laughed then climbed
from the bed and kissed him on the very spot. “Do you think I
should shave it off then?” Her hair fell around his face, filling
his sense with her smell. He tried to imagine her without her hair
but could not. Instead of answer, he angled his head up and kissed
her, running his fingers through the fine hair until it was trapped
in the tangles. “I didn’t think so,” Eia said as she pulled away.
“I’ll be right back. While I’m gone think about what you have told
Arin about these Kingdoms. Their demands will most certainly be
based on what he knows.”

With that, Eia strode from
the room. Ipid watched her go, white hair bobbing above her round
rear, thin legs, bare feet. He thought about what she had asked,
tried to recall exactly what he had told Arin about the Kingdoms.
He scribbled some notes and was just finishing when Eia
returned.

She was wearing a sleek,
sleeveless silk summer dress that was far too large for her. The
neckline barely covered her breasts, the line of the waist was
nearly at her knees and several inches dragged on the ground. She
looked most like a child wearing her mother’s dress. For some
reason, Ipid found it captivating. Catching his stare, she adjusted
the straps to raise the neckline. “I make do with what I have.
Unless you want me to put that cursed robe back on.”

Ipid laughed. “Anything
but that. You look lovely. I just wish I could buy you the dresses
you deserve.”

Eia looked down at the one
she was wearing. It was deep blue with no adornment, but the silk
was of a perfect weave, not a catch, nary an imperfection. “If this
is any indication, I imagine they would be magnificent. You
obviously have excellent taste.” She thought for a moment. “Or was
it your son who selected these for his new wife.”

Ipid chuckled at the
thought of either him or Dasen selecting dresses. “I wish that one
of us could take the credit, but it was someone from the staff that
arranged for the clothes. I did nothing but open my
purse.”

“
Well, I love them,
nonetheless, and am sure that your daughter-in-law would have felt
the same. She is very fortunate to have you.”

“
I doubt very much that
she felt that way, but you are nice to say so.”

“
How could she not want
you as a father? You are kind and considerate . . . and
rich.”

Ipid laughed again. “The
last most of all. But Tethina was never the kind of girl who cared
much for money or what it could buy. She is creature of nature. I
fear that she will never be tamed, will never fit into this
world.”

“
And your son? Does she
love him?”

Ipid sighed. “She did
once, when they were children. Now, I don’t know. They are as
different as two people can be, but that is not always
bad.”

“
Like us.” Eia giggled and
sat on his lap. “The frivolous girl and the serious lord. It is the
stuff of ballads. The world revolves around such
romances.”

Ipid wrapped his arms
around her. “I suppose it does, and as it turns out, Tethina may
have already saved Dasen. If they made it through the forest to
Thoren and escaped your camp, I can only imagine it is because of
her.”
And killed a
warrior
, Ipid added silently, unable still
to grasp the horror of that.

“
So he would brave the
forest and risk escaping the Darthur for this girl? But I thought
you were not sure if they were in love.”

“
No,” Ipid chuckled
darkly, “I cannot imagine Dasen doing any of those things. I cannot
imagine him lasting a day in the forest. But Tethina . . . . She
was in many ways built for this, for hiding, running, fighting. She
has done it her entire life. If Dasen has survived the forest and
evaded your armies, it is because of her.”

Eia seemed to ponder this.
“I see,” she said seriously as she rose from his lap. And does she
know this area? Is she from here as well?”

“
No. There are no forests
here. She has spent her entire life in Randor’s Pass. That is why
we were there, for their joining ceremony.”

“
So where would they have
gone?”

“
I wish I knew,” Ipid
answered, but Eia seemed not to hear. She paced, mumbling to
herself. “What is it?” he finally asked.

Eia looked up as if
surprised that he was still there. Then, remembering herself, she
smiled and waved off the question. “Nothing. Now, I believe we were
going to discuss what you have told Arin.”

#

Ipid sat back, rubbed his
forehead, and stared at the pages before him. Eia had answered his
questions in more detail than he could have hoped, but the answers
had done nothing to reassure him. He now had a good idea of what
the Darthur would ask of the Kingdoms but could not imagine the
Chancellor accepting. “And if they don’t accept these terms?” he
asked.

Eia sat near the window on
the other side of the room, splayed on a divan watching the clouds
meander through the blue of the sky. It was approaching noon, and
the day was, if anything, hotter than the previous. Even Ipid had
unbuttoned his shirt and taken to constantly mopping his brow to
keep his sweat from ruining the papers before him.

Eia looked back at him,
fanning herself but seeming less affected by the heat. “Oh, they
will accept. They always accept. By the end, the leaders on our
side of the mountains were begging to accept the Darthurs’ terms.
They could have asked anything, could have asked the people to . .
. to murder their own children, and they would have accepted.” She
sighed, turning mournful. “In the beginning, there were a few
nations that resisted before they knew what Arin would do. He
destroyed their cities, killed everyone inside, stole their
livestock and burned their crops. He made them beg, made them see
that his terms were a mercy. And that was before he had us. You saw
what we did to Thoren. Wildern will suffer the same fate. Then the
next city and the next and the next. He will keep destroying until
his terms are met, until your leaders beg him on their knees to be
allowed to give him what he wants. By then, you will pray that he
is still in a mood to accept.”