Centyr Dominance (4 page)

Laura was backing away now. “I don’t believe in
demons. Doron protects us. You have no power over me!” Fear was written
plainly in her features.

“Stop, Laura,” said Moira. “I’m not a demon
worshipper. I don’t think they even exist, unless you are talking about the
dark gods.”

Laura darted for the door suddenly, but Moira erected
a quick shield over it to keep her from reaching the latch. The girl looked at
her hand in horror when she discovered the unseen barrier. “Please, don’t hurt
me!” she begged. “I never did anything to you.”

“I warned ye not to reveal us,” commented Chad. “Now
she’s goin’ ta make a terrible ruckus.”

Laura’s eyes went wide, “Are you going to…? Please, I
won’t tell anyone. Don’t hurt my parents!”

Moira sighed, “This is ridiculous. Doron doesn’t even
exist anymore.”

The other girl’s face registered shock at that
pronouncement, and her lip began to quiver. “That’s blasphemy,” she whispered
to herself.

“Yer not goin’ to get through to her,” remarked Chad.
“An’ now we’re goin’ ta have to leave. Do somethin’ about her.”

Laura’s mouth opened wide as she prepared to scream.

“Shibal,”
said
Moira, sending the girl into a deep slumber. She caught Laura as her limp form
began to fall and eased her awkwardly to the ground. “Now what?” she asked.

“How long will she sleep for?” asked the ranger.

“At least an hour or two,” said Moira, “probably a lot
longer since she’s still tired.”

“Put a little more juice in it, then an’ let’s go back
to sleep. We’ll leave before dawn and let them sort it out after we’re gone.”

“Why did she react like that?” asked Moira.

“People in Dunbar don’t have much to do with Lothion.
They get most of their news from folk in Gododdin. They don’t have a high opinion
of magic. After what happened with Mal’goroth an’ his sacrifices there, they
tend to take a dim view of wizards,” explained the older man.

“But wizards had nothing to do with that,” argued
Moira.

“They don’t know that,” responded Chad. “Priests, wizards,
an’ magic, they’re all the same to them. She was raised to believe that Doron
is good, an’ that the people of Gododdin suffered because they turned away from
the true gods. To them, there’s no difference between yer dad an’ Mal’goroth.”

Moira’s mouth tightened. She didn’t like what she was
hearing, but she couldn’t deny that Laura had reacted badly to learning her
identity.

Chad rolled over, pulling his blanket tight.

“Are you just going to lie there?” she asked him.

“Nah, I’m goin’ to sleep.” His eyes were already
closed.

She stared at him for several minutes before sitting
back down. Gram’s soft snores became more noticeable as silence returned. He
had never awoken at all, and now Chad showed every sign of being asleep as
well.

Eventually Moira lay down as well, but it seemed like
hours before sleep found her. Her thoughts kept running in circles. When Chad
woke her before dawn, it felt as though she hadn’t rested at all.

Quietly they packed up their things and left, taking
care not to wake the girl sleeping near the door. They found the dragons and
resumed their journey, but Moira’s mind kept going back to the night before.
She couldn’t get over the sight of Laura’s terrified face.

The land began to gradually flatten out as it rolled
by beneath them, slowly changing to a rolling plain covered with soft grasses
and dotted by trees. There were a surprising number of farms to be seen.
While the shiggreth and the war between Lothion and Gododdin had greatly
reduced the population of Gododdin, and to some small extent Lothion, Dunbar
had grown from an influx of refugees.

Moira watched the scenery slide by, but her mind’s eye
was turned inward, recalling an old conversation with the shade of her mother.
“No one must ever know the true depths of the Centyr gift, otherwise you
will have no peace. Men will fear you, and none will trust you,”
Moira
Centyr had told her.

Laura had feared her for nothing more than her wizard
parentage and that she had given her the gift of speech. If people feared
magic that much, how much more would they hate her for being a Centyr mage?
It
isn’t fair,
thought Moira, but she knew it was true. She had seen enough
unshielded minds to understand that the differences between normal folk and the
artificial sentiences she could create were purely technical. Last night had
merely brought the lesson home to her in a more direct way.

If you can change one, you can change the
other.
That thought left her feeling alone, more alone than
ever before.

“What do you think we should do once we get to Halam?”
asked Gram, yelling into her ear to be heard over the rushing wind. The words
startled her from her dark reverie.

She turned her head, leaning back to respond in kind,
putting her mouth close to his ear, “Obviously we need to find the Earl of
Berlagen, since that’s our only clue.” Without intending to, she found herself
once more inhaling the smell of Gram’s hair. It was a comforting scent,
masculine and familiar. She resisted a sudden impulse to press her face
closer.

“Well, yeah, I knew that,” he replied. “I meant, how
do you think we should go about it? Are you going to present yourself to King
Darogen?”

Moira hadn’t really considered that option. “Don’t
you know where Berlagen’s estate is located?”
Why does he smell so good?
She
turned her head away so he could respond.
And why am I thinking about
that? I’m not interested in Gram. He’s like my brother.
She suppressed a
shiver when she felt his breath on her ear.

“No, I just know it’s somewhere in western Dunbar. I
don’t even know who the current earl is,” answered Gram.

Moira was irritated with her strange reaction to
Gram’s closeness, and she let it show in her voice, “I don’t really want to
turn this into a formal visit until we know more about what’s going on.” Gram
began to respond, but she waved him away when he leaned in. “We can talk after
we land!” she told him.

He is rather attractive,
suggested
Cassandra mentally,
for a human.

Moira blushed, she hadn’t realized she was
broadcasting her thoughts.
It isn’t like that,
she responded silently.
Are you eavesdropping on me somehow?

No,
replied Cassandra,
but I can sense your feelings.

There are no ‘feelings’,
insisted
Moira.

Whatever you say,
responded
Cassandra demurely.

Moira caught herself growling to herself before she
made a conscious effort to stop. Cassandra simply didn’t understand. She and
Gram had grown up together. They were more like siblings than anything else.
Not to mention the fact that Gram had fallen in love with someone else. Tragic
as his relationship with Alyssa had turned out to be, it was still someone else
he was pining for.

And she’s far more beautiful,
thought
Moira, remembering Alyssa’s grace and charm.
If there were some way I could
help him find her, I would. He deserves to be happy.

Halam had appeared on the horizon, and they were
drawing rapidly closer, so Moira forced her thoughts back to more productive
channels. At her urging Cassandra descended, finding a place to rest in a
small copse of trees several miles from the capital city. Gram and Chad
stretched their legs once they were back on their own feet again.

“What now, princess?” asked the hunter.

Moira frowned at him, “Don’t call me that.”

Chad grinned, “What now, milady?” He gave a small bow
to punctuate his rephrased question.

“We can enter the city on foot to avoid drawing
attention to ourselves. Once there, perhaps we can find out where the Earl’s
lands are situated. When we know that, we can return and move on,” she told
him.

“And the King?” asked Gram, referencing his question
from before.

“We’ll avoid letting him know of our presence, unless
it becomes clear that we need his help,” Moira answered.

“I don’t like the thought of you entering a strange
city without me,” observed Grace from where she sat beside Gram.

Moira smiled reassuringly, “I’ll have the world’s most
fearsome warrior and a legendary archer with me, not to mention my own magic.
I doubt we have anything to fear. Besides, if anything goes wrong Cassandra
will feel it, just as you would with Gram.”

“Not if you’re too far for us to sense you,” countered
Grace.

Gram was still processing her last remark, “Fearsome?
Legendary archer?”

Chad put a hand on his shoulder, “Don’t interrupt the
girl when she starts makin’ sense.”

“The city is at the limit of my magical perception,” noted
Cassandra in her deeper rumbling tones. “Once you’re inside I doubt I will be
able to feel you.”

“It may take us a few days to learn what we need,” added
the hunter.

“You can fly over the city once night falls,”
suggested Moira, addressing her dragon. “No one will see you or Grace once
it’s dark. You can check on us then.”

In the end, they went along with Moira’s plan. Before
they moved on she made two small spellbeasts. The first she sent flying
homeward, to inform her mother of their location. She had been worried about
her mother for a while now. Hopefully, keeping her informed would help when
she had to eventually face the music. The second she kept with her, naming the
tiny sprite-like creature ‘Pippin’. She could use him to send her next update.

Gram watched Pippin tuck himself away in the collar of
her jacket with a raised eyebrow, and then the three humans made their way to
Halam on foot, while the dragons once again waited. As they approached the
main gate they were stopped by guards. A shabby man with tattered clothes
stepped forward, holding his hand out.

They stopped, staring at the stranger. He appeared to
be little more than a common beggar, but his hand wasn’t held as if he was
expecting charity. The guards watched him with disinterest, though it was
clear he was acting on their behalf.

“Hello…?” said Moira uncertainly, not quite sure what
to make of the stranger’s outstretched hand. Gram moved forward to stand
between her and the beggar.

“What’s this about?” asked Chad.

The guards tensed, losing their bored expressions and
making sure their hands were free. Two of them lowered spears. Whatever
reaction they had been expecting, a question was clearly not it. “Take his
hand!” barked one of them.

Moira could see their unease, not just in their faces
and body language, but in the flickering network of aythar that represented
their minds. The beggar was some sort of test, a reassurance, and by ignoring
his offered hand they were presenting themselves as a danger.
Shiggreth,
she
realized.
They’re testing everyone who enters to make sure they’re still
human.
The tattered beggar made perfect sense when seen in that light.
Obviously none of the guards would be expected to put themselves at risk
touching strangers.

“Let’s not get testy, sirs,” said Chad. “If ye’ll
explain what ye want…”

She could sense the muscles tightening in the hunter’s
shoulders and torso, even as his legs relaxed. His tone was calm, but she knew
he was preparing to fight if discussion failed. “It’s ok,” she told her two
companions. Slipping past Gram, she took the poor man’s hand in her own.
“We’re human.”

The level of tension dropped noticeably. The guard
captain nodded at Gram and Chad, “Them too.”

Gram followed Moira’s example, and then Chad did the
same. Now that they understood the reason, the actions of the guards made
perfect sense.

“I thought the shiggreth were all gone,” said the hunter.

“Where are you from?” asked the guard captain,
ignoring his remark.

“What are ‘shiggerth’?” asked one of the guards in the
back, mangling the pronunciation.

One of his companions answered in a mutter, “I think
he means the night-walkers.”

“We’re from Gododdin,” replied Chad quickly. “Hoping
to find work. Things aren’t so good back home.”

The guard captain squinted at them suspiciously, “She
don’t sound like she’s from Gododdin.”

“She’s my niece. The two of them lived south of
Surencia, before things got bad,” explained the hunter.

“That doesn’t look like a farmer’s weapon,” observed
the captain, looking at Gram’s sword. Thorn was currently in its ‘broken’
form, but the large hilt still made it conspicuous.

Chad spoke quickly, before Gram could respond, “That’s
cuz he ain’t a farmer. He was a guard in Dalensa. That’s all he’s got left of
his father’s.”

“Let’s see it,” said the captain, and one of the
guards reached out to pull Thorn from Gram’s belt. Instinctively, the younger
man knocked the soldier’s grasping hand away, stepping to one side.

Everyone tensed.

“Let’s not be hasty,” said the ranger. “The lad’s
touchy about his father’s sword.”

“It’s alright, Gram,” reassured Moira, but he had
already drawn the broken blade, showing it to the guards.

“It’s just a broken sword,” he offered quietly.

Their eyes widened, and one man whistled in
appreciation. “Damn thing looks like it’s worth a fortune. You see that
stone?”

“There’s still enough blade left on it to do someone a
serious hurt too,” remarked another.

Moira could see the greed flashing in the captain’s
mind as he stared at Thorn. “We’re going to have to confiscate that—for the
public good…,” began the guard.

Chad reached out and placed a few coins in the
captain’s palm, “Surely that won’t be necessary.”

The captain might have refused, for the sword was
clearly worth far more than any small bribe, but Moira touched his mind softly,
dimming his avarice and teasing his more generous side to the forefront.

“Fine,” said the guard-captain. “Don’t let me hear of
you three causing any trouble.” Stepping back he waved them forward. The
others cleared the way for them.

“Thank ye, sir,” said the hunter.

As they walked on Moira could hear them muttering
behind them, “That was odd. Why’d the captain let them pass?”

“…sword must have been worth a fortune.”

“Shut up, Simmons!”

When they had gotten out of sight of the gate, Chad
let out a lungful of air. He had been holding his breath. “I didn’t think
he’d let us go so easy.”

Gram had already twisted his sword belt around to hide
Thorn’s hilt behind his cloak.

“Let’s find something to eat,” suggested Moira, hoping
to divert the conversation. She felt a small amount of guilt over altering the
guard’s mind, and she wanted to put the moment behind them.

Gram gave her a broad smile, “I won’t argue with
that. I feel like I could eat enough for two men.” The sunlight caught his
hair as he spoke, creating the illusion of a golden halo around his features.

Moira let the view sink in for a second before replying,
“Now we just need to find a decent inn.”
When did he get so handsome?
She
couldn’t help but admire the breadth of his shoulders as he walked ahead of
her.

“There ought to be a tavern or somethin’ similar
around the corner there,” said Chad.

“Have you been here before?” Moira asked him in
surprise. In point of fact, her magesight had already revealed an
establishment that was probably an inn ahead of them to the right, just out of
sight.

“Nah,” answered the hunter, “but I know pubs, an’ we
just left the main gate. There’ll be several nearby.”