[Shadowed Path 02] - Candle in the Storm (28 page)

“Cara, are you all right?”

Silence.

“Cara!”

“Oh Karm! Oh Karm!” Cara said in a shaky voice.

“What’s happened?”

“It’s just as I feared: I’ve drawn evil to you.”

Cara backed away from the spreading blood, then took a deep shuddering breath. “Dress and grab the pack, we can na stay here.”

“But this is your hall!”

“Perhaps ‘tis, perhaps nay. Who knows what others are sneaking about? Best to get you safe before finding out.”

Yim dressed quickly. Then she stowed her tunic in the pack and strapped on her own dagger, discarding the poisoned one. By the time she was ready, Cara had donned her clothes and buckled on the sword belt and scabbard. “I’ll take you to the secret passageway,” Cara said. “If we can make it there, you should be safe while I rouse the guard. That way, if the hall’s overrun, you’ll have an escape route.”

The two women cautiously entered the dark hallway with Cara in the forefront. Everything was quiet, and they made their way to the pantry without encountering anyone. Only there did Cara risk a light, using a flint and iron to light torches for Yim and herself before descending into the storerooms below. When they reached the shaft leading to the secret passage, Cara said, “Climb down and hide behind
 the door while I find out what’s happened. You can peer through the slots and see the torchlight of anyone coming. If you do na hear my voice, flee through the secret entrance. A lever opens it from below. Hurry, Yim, I’ll return soon.”

As Cara walked away, Yim gripped her torch with her teeth and descended the ladder into the dark shaft. As she neared its bottom, the torchlight revealed that the door was missing. She called to Cara. “The door’s gone!”

Cara returned to look, then climbed down the ladder. Drawing her sword, she advanced into the tunnel. Yim followed her. “Cara,” she whispered, “is this a good idea?”

“I must check the secret entrance,” Cara replied, picking up her pace. “You can stay behind if you want.”

“I’m coming with you.”

Soon Yim and Cara were standing knee-deep in water at the tunnel’s end. Cara stared at the open hatch with a dismayed expression. “Oh Karm!” she said. “We’ve got to close it.”

“How? It’s jammed open.”

“I think I can manage if you help,” said Cara. “Climb up and move the hatch so I can try to clear the jam. The stone’s heavy, but it pivots on its center, so you’ll na bear its full weight.”

“Of course, I’ll help you,” said Yim. She was about to ascend the rungs set in the wall when she felt something brush against her leg. Looking down, she thought she glimpsed a hand in the murky water. Then whatever touched her sank from view. “Cara!” she cried. “I think there’s a dead body here!”

“Never mind! Climb up the rungs,” urged Cara. “If we do na close that hatch, there’ll be bodies everywhere.”

Yim hurried up the rungs and exited the shaft. As soon as Cara set her torch in a holder, she followed after Yim, halting just beneath the top of the shaft. When Cara stopped climbing, Yim called down to her. “Tell me what to do.”

Gripping a rung with one hand, Cara drew her sword
 and used it to poke the wooden framework that jammed the hatch. “Pull the stone up a bit,” she said. “Hold on tight.”

Yim extinguished her torch, then tugged at the stone hatch. She discovered that, while the stone pivoted on its center, it wasn’t balanced. Instead, it was inclined to fall to the closed position. Nevertheless, Yim was able to pull the hatch farther open. A chain dangled loosely from a ring set in its far end. Yim wondered if the chain had been attached to a counterweight. If so, that would explain why the hatch felt so heavy.

Beneath her, Cara was pressing against the frame with her sword. Yim heard Cara’s voice. “All right. The frame’s no longer wedged. Lower the hatch a bit, and I’ll push it free.”

Concentrating on holding the hatch open, Yim no longer saw what Cara was doing; she simply followed directions. The hatch became increasingly difficult to hold steady. “Lower it some more,” said Cara. Yim did so. The more the stone tilted, the heavier it seemed. Despite Yim’s resistance, it began to incline further. Then Yim heard a loud crash.

“Cara! Are you all right?”

“Hold the hatch, I’m coming up.”

“Hurry Cara, it’s slipping!”

Yim saw a hand on the edge of the opening. The stone grew heavier. Cara’s torso emerged from the hole. Yim gritted her teeth, fighting against the growing weight that fought to break free from her grasp. “I can’t hold it much longer!” Cara was nearly out when Yim’s fingers lost their grip. The hatch slammed closed with a crash. Cara stood frozen in a hunched position.

“My cloak’s caught,” said Cara.

Yim drew her dagger and cut Cara loose. “Oh, thank Karm, I feared I’d crushed you! What now?”

“Sneak into the village, and see if archers still guard the walls. If so, I’ll call to them.”

“And if not?”

“Well, then we’ll do something different. At least na one will sneak in the back way.”

The pair headed up the sloping field toward the hall and village, which were only silhouettes against the starry sky. They were halfway there when they spotted torches moving in the dark. The flames illuminated men who seemed to be spreading out around the village’s perimeter. Cara halted. Yim did, too. “Could they be your guards?” Yim asked. “Perhaps they’re looking for us.”

“There are too many of them,” replied Cara. “Some mischief is afoot.”

Just then, several thatched roofs were set alight. As the fires grew, their red glow reached into the field and illuminated Yim and Cara. A pair of men dashed in their direction. “Run from the light!” said Cara.

Yim raced alongside Cara toward the lake and the greater safety of darkness. She glanced back only once. Their pursuers were barely visible. Other men were running in their direction also, but they were farther away. “Head for the boats,” said Cara between gasps. The women were swift, but the men ran with the energy of the possessed. At the lakeshore, the first of them caught up with Yim and swung a hoe at her.

Cara’s sword met the tool’s descending shaft and splintered it. The hoe’s blade spun off into the night, but the remnant of the shaft could still serve as a club, and the man swung at Cara with it. She ducked the blow and stabbed at the man. Her sword pierced his gut and emerged out his back. Cara was pulling it free when the long curved blade of a scythe bit into her upper arm.

Yim had been so focused on the man with the hoe that his companion seemed to have appeared from nowhere. She cried out in horror at the sight of Cara’s wound. Then she reacted with animal ferocity, springing at Cara’s assailant and burying her dagger deep into his chest. The man fell back, releasing the scythe. It remained embedded in Cara’s arm. Then her arm bent where it shouldn’t and dangled like an empty sleeve, releasing the blade.

The aftermath was ghastly. Blood spurted from Cara’s half-severed arm in time with her rapid pulse, darkening her garments. Even in the dim light, Yim could see her friend was growing deathly pale. Cara’s lips appeared as white as her face and her eyes had taken on a vacant gaze.

“I’ll take care of you, Cara,” said Yim, shaking her friend to get her attention. “I was raised by a Wise Woman. I know what to do.” She yanked the drawstring from the dead man’s pants and tied it tightly above the wound to stop the blood flow. Then she examined Cara’s arm. The blade had completely severed the bone midway above the elbow so that the limb was only partially attached. There was nothing Yim could do but remove it. Yim kissed Cara’s clammy cheek. “I’m going to have to cut some more,” she said. “I’ll do it quickly.”

Cara whimpered only once, sat down, and squeezed her eyes shut. Yim pulled her dagger from the dead man’s chest, wiped it clean, and sliced through the remaining muscles in Cara’s arm. She placed it gently on the ground, as if it were still part of Cara, and touched the hand in a gesture of farewell. It was still warm. Then she returned Cara’s sword to its scabbard and helped her friend to her feet. “Come with me,” she said, “I’ll take you somewhere safe.”

Cara didn’t reply, but numbly submitted to Yim, who embraced her to hold her upright as they made their way to the dock. Somehow Yim managed to get Cara into the boat they had used to visit Faerie. She untied the vessel and began rowing clumsily into the lake. Initially, she did more splashing than actual rowing, for the oar shafts simply slipped between a pair of upright dowels. Holding their paddles at the proper angle and positioning the shafts so both oars pulled evenly was not as easy as it seemed when Cara had done it. The boat moved both slowly and erratically while Yim got the hang of it.

Cara stirred and moaned. “It hurts. Oh Karm, it hurts.”

“I’ll do something about the pain soon,” said Yim. She
 hoped that she wasn’t lying. Honus had taken the healing kit with him, so she had no pain-dulling herbs. Her best hope was that Lila had been correct and the Old Ones were her friends.
 
They’d better be Cara’s friends, too 
, Yim thought, regarding her wounded comrade. Cara was slumping in her seat and looked about to tumble into the lake. Alarmed, Yim crawled over to her as the small boat rocked unsteadily. Then she eased her friend down so that her back rested against the stern. Cara was no help in this maneuver, for she was listless and seemed almost asleep. Yim knew that wasn’t a good sign, but she needed to take up the oars. A glance toward the dock revealed that men were arriving there and climbing into a boat.

Yim rowed for her and Cara’s lives, and her rowing gradually improved. Instead of zigzagging about the lake, she guided the boat with more accuracy. The shore grew more distant. Yim’s palms began to chafe, but she paused her rowing only to splash water on Cara in an effort to keep her conscious. “Stay awake Cara! Talk to me!”

“Oh Karm! Oh Karm!”

“Cara, you were so brave. You saved my life many times tonight. Be brave now. We’ll get through this. Talk! Talk!” “You were right.” “Right about what?”

“Killing. ‘tis na fun. Sometimes when the men drank and spoke of battles, their deeds seemed glorious and exciting. But I have someone’s 
brains 
splattered over me! And my arm … Oh, Karm help me.”

“She will, Cara. She will.”

Yim looked at the dock. The men had launched the boat. It was difficult to see, a black shape against the dark shore, but it seemed large and bristling with oars. Yim prayed the men who manned them were as inept as she.

Cara spoke again, her voice faint. “Where are we going?”

“To the faerie dell. The Old Ones will shelter us.”

“Metal,” said Cara, sounding fainter than before. “Na metal. They will na …”

Yim waited for her friend to finish, but Cara had closed her eyes. Yim pulled in an oar so she could scoop water with a hand and fling it. Cara didn’t stir. Yim flung more water, splashing Cara’s face, but she didn’t react. “Wake up! Don’t die! You can’t die! I won’t allow it!”

Yim blinked tears from her eyes and glanced at the other boat. It was closer. A voice carried across the dark, still water. “Pull! Pull! Pull!”

Yim grabbed the oars and began to row again. Desperation lent her speed. She moved farther into the lake before thinking about what Cara had said.
 
Metal! The faeries can’t abide it!
 
She threw Cara’s sword into the lake. Her own dagger followed it. Neither weapon would be of use against a boatload of foes. The men needed only to capsize the slender boat to drown Cara. Yim knew she would fare no better. Her and Cara’s only hope lay in speed and the goodwill of the Old Ones. Then a thought arose.
 
There’s metal in the pack!
 
Yim rummaged through it. She flung the pot away, and the knife, and the fire-making iron.
 
Is there anything else? The needle! No, that was in the healing kit 
.

“Pull! Pull! Pull!”

Yim gazed toward the other boat. It was gaining on her. She seized the oars and rowed with all her might. Blisters formed and broke on her hands until they were raw. The oar handles grew slippery with sweat or blood or both; Yim didn’t look. Yet despite her efforts, her pursuers drew ever closer.

“Pull! Pull! Pull!”

A man stood on the vessel’s deck to shout the count, and the oars moved in perfect unison. Yim thought the standing man must be a black priest who could enthrall others with his voice. Perhaps the oarsmen were only peasants, but they rowed so that their boat sped upon the water with the agility of a giant centipede.

The gorge leading to the faerie dell loomed ahead, a black gash in the dark mountains. But even as Yim neared it, she saw the oncoming vessel would overtake her. She could not keep up her former pace, and even that had been insufficient. Doom drew ever nearer. Soon, she could make out the face of the man who commanded the oarsmen. His mouth looked like a dark gash in a pale orb. It seemed to be grinning with malice and triumph.

THIRTY

YIM WAS
panting. Her back ached and her arms were leaden with fatigue as she pulled the oars from the water and set them in the boat. It was a relief to rest while the slender craft glided onward, propelled only by momentum. Glancing at her pursuers, Yim knew that her relief wouldn’t last long. If a man could step from the approaching boat and walk on water, he would reach her in fewer than a hundred strides. Yim wondered how many strides equaled an oar stroke. The answer would tell her how long she had to live.