Space and Time Issue 121 (11 page)

Perhaps she was right. This journey had been a blessing, a chance at redemption. A rather weak redemption in light of his past disgrace, but redemption all the same. Why not celebrate it a bit? The woman was quite beautiful as well, and the way she leaned forward while speaking was persuasive. “Very well. But only one.”

She poured generously into his empty tea bowl and then poured some for herself. The woman gracefully lifted her bowl. “To the Starry Heavens and Sharak’kai.” She laughed as if she had made a jest, but quickly straightened her handsome features. “No, we will toast to you,” she said. “To the traveler. To journeys of the past, the present, and the future.”

Their bowls tapped together, and Vosh took a long drink.

* * *

Odala Vosh awoke on the floor of his room at the inn. His skull throbbed mercilessly. A sour taste clotted his mouth. He crawled slowly to his feet, rubbing his eyes. His stomach trembled with nausea. He tried to recall what had happened.

That woman last night… The images and memories of her lurched faintly through the fog and incessant pounding in his head. They were dim and difficult to grasp. He could remember nothing after drinking that bowl of wine.

His two swords were scattered on the floor nearby. He picked them up with some difficulty, slipping the steel one over his shoulder and the wooden one into his belt. The room began to spin, and he had to lean against the wall to keep from falling over and vomiting.

The last of his coin still jingled in his coin purse. He breathed slowly, struggling to straighten his thoughts. He had not been robbed, at least. His stomach heaved, and he bent over, retching. This continued for some time until he had nothing left to bring up.

His thoughts swam through a muddled haze. His extremities were numb and weak. He felt intensely feverish, both shivering and sweating at the same time. Pains began to needle through his body. This was not a natural hangover, he knew. This was not an effect of drunkenness. But what else could it be? Had he suddenly become ill? Or was it something else?

Poison.

Sohka!
He stumbled across the hall and barged through her door.

Vosh stared at the small, empty room. Wan morning light reached in through the window on the far wall, spreading across the dusty, uneven planks of the floor. His head throbbed; his knees nearly gave out. The sheets on the small pallet in the center of the room were strewn to the side. A small chair lay broken on the floor. Her satchel was near the far wall, half disgorging books, star charts, and maps.

He stepped forward and fell down. After recovering himself, he collected her satchel and slung it over his shoulder. Panic clawed at him, and he struggled against it. He had to calm down, had to focus, but it was so hard to think straight. Perhaps she went downstairs for breakfast. No, she was too tidy to leave the room in such a mess. He gnashed his teeth, tasting the old food and bile in his mouth.

The pounding in his head sounded like footsteps, and it took a moment for him to realize someone was standing behind him in the door way. The innkeeper gaped at him, pale-faced. Vosh hurried clumsily toward the man. “Where is she?” he hollered. “Where is she?”

The innkeeper made a few startled noises and then fainted, collapsing to the floor in a heap. Vosh stepped over him and rushed down the hallway, heading to the common room downstairs. Perhaps this was all a mistake. Perhaps she would be sitting there eating breakfast. He could imagine her tilting her head at his haste and wild trepidation.

The group of merchants still sat in the corner with their bodyguards. Otherwise the room was empty. Vosh retched again. A barmaid, who had evidently entered from the back room, cried out and dropped her tray of dishes with a loud clatter. Vosh wiped his mouth with his sleeve and staggered across the room.

“Where is she?” he shouted at the merchants as their bodyguards rose and stepped forward. “What have you done with her?”

The guards grabbed his shoulders and tossed him out of the front door. He hit the ground hard and could not immediately get back to his feet. He had never felt so ill in all his life. He was burning up and freezing all at once. Sharp pains stabbed at the undersides of his arms, stuttered through his innards.

On his back in the dirt, he stared up at the blue sky. The Order of Light. No doubt those merchants were a part of that wretched network of slavers. Everyone was, it seemed. In his attempts to find his wife and son, he had discovered the Order’s perverted influence everywhere. Anyone could be an agent, a spy, or a follower of the Order of Light.
Anyone
. It had horrified him to see just how much evil existed in the world and how little good.

He limped to his feet, his mind reeling. In his present state, he was no match for those guards. Killers, each one. There was no doubt of that. He could hardly walk, much less fight. He was surprised they had not simply killed him rather than toss him outside.
Their mistake.

Sohka had been taken right out from under his nose. Not even halfway to Two Skies and her pilgrimage had already been shattered because of his stupidity. He sat down heavily in dirt again, rubbing his haggard face. Blunders and disgrace clung to him like an ill-fitting suit. He had failed at everything he ever tried, without exception. His life as a
Senshu
had ended in ignominy, and as a result he spent the last twenty years hiding from that irreparable disgrace like a sniveling coward. And now it had gotten even worse.

He climbed back to his feet and stumbled through the small village, hoping to find some trace of her out here. Sohka needed him. He had to find her. He
would
find her. Whoever had taken her could not have gotten very far either by road or cross-country. She could very well still be in town somewhere hidden in a wagon or shack. The merchants would know, there was no doubt of that, but he was in no condition to confront them again.

The sun had barely found the sky, but the heat already hung oppressively in the morning air; in spite of it, he shivered uncontrollably. A spattering of huts and dilapidated shops dotted the grounds beyond the inn but, besides a few scrawny goats and pigs, there was little other sign of people. All the same, he thought he could feel their eyes on him. There was something unsettling about the place.
The Order must have a strong hold here,
he thought.

It was difficult to see clearly. Had he in fact been poisoned? His face burned, his body ached. His eyes were heavy, so heavy he could hardly keep them open. After a few more steps, he blinked and fell into darkness.

* * *

“You were supposed to see to this last night,” a man said in a dark, gruff voice.

“We had no reason to believe he was not already dead, as he should have been,” a woman’s sultry voice responded.

“Yes, we thought he was already dead,” another man added with a whimper.

“You should have made sure,” the first man growled. “Even a dying
Senshu
is dangerous. That is why we dared not take him as well. The others will not be pleased.”

“Forgive us,” the woman said.

“Yes, forgive us,” the whimpering man said.

“The girl was most important. We may still have use of him, however. Bring him to the ruins.”

Footsteps stomped away. The woman sighed, and the other man muttered something nervously.

“The amount of kingsgloom in the wine should have killed him,” the woman said. “He should have been dead after an hour at most.”

“Why didn’t you tell him about the poison?”

“You know how the others feel about poison, you fool. But how else can you kill a
Senshu?
Did they expect me to use a knife? Besides, you were supposed to make sure it worked.”

The man cleared his throat.

Vosh kept his eyes closed and remained motionless on the ground. His head spun, but he slowly began to collect himself. He could hear crickets and night birds. How long had he been unconscious? Hours, days? Hours, most likely.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” the woman asked. “Pick him up.”

“But the poison—”

“Pick him up, you fool! We can worry about that later.”

“I don’t think I can carry him.” The voice was familiar. The innkeeper.

“Then get the wagon. This is all your fault. If you had not been so lazy, none of this would have happened.”

“I think…” The man’s voice drifted closer. “I think he might still be breathing.”

Vosh jumped unsteadily to his feet, swinging his steel sword out from the scabbard on his back. The innkeeper and the plump woman yelped in surprise. The innkeeper mumbled something and fainted. The woman began walking backwards, holding up her hands.

“We were worried about you,” she said quickly. “We were going to take you back to the inn and see to your illness. You’re sick. We have medicine.”

Just as she turned to run, Vosh grabbed a handful of her black hair. She shrieked.

“Where is the girl?” he snarled. “What have you done with her?”

“Please, don’t hurt me. I don’t know anything, I swear!”

He threw her roughly to the ground, knelt down on her, and pressed the gleaming blade to her throat. Red droplets began to appear on her neck. “Where is the girl? Tell me and I will spare your life.”

The woman stared at him, her mouth working silently.

“Tell me!”

“East,” she whispered. “In the forest.”

He pulled her up to her feet by her hair. “You will take me.”

“No, no. They will kill me. No, please. You don’t understand.”

“I will kill you if you don’t.”

“Wait. Wait. You’re dying. You’ll never make it there.”

“The antidote.”

“There is none. But…” A slow smile spread across her face. “Perhaps I can ease your passing. There is no pleasure greater than the joys of the body.” Her low-cut robe began to slip off of her shoulder. “I can make your final hours a heaven on earth. Your last breath will be a gasp of ecstasy.”

He yanked her robe back over her shoulder. “You will take me to the girl.”

She frowned and straightened her clothing. “Very well. But you will only kill us both.”

“Good.”

* * *

Vosh followed the woman down a weed-infested road that cut through the nearby forest. The lantern in her hand barely penetrated the shadows hanging over them.

He could not say how he had managed to survive for so long after ingesting the kingsgloom the woman had mixed into that bowl of wine. He should have been dead long ago, and he felt half dead already. Yet, he continued onward. It was as mysterious as how Sohka had found him.

Had the stars really told her? Fortunes could be read in the stars, he knew, but could something so specific as the location of his cave also be revealed by the heavens? It seemed too fantastic. Yet, she had found him all the same. He grimaced. It made no difference one way or the other anymore.

His disorientation, aching numbness, and nausea dwindled as he focused on his task. He remembered the mental exercises he had learned as a novice and used them to still his mind and block out the effects of pain and illness. His strength began to return at each step, but he knew his time was slender at best.

The woman whined as he tugged on the rope he had tied around her neck to keep her from running off. “How much further?” he asked, leaning a bit on the long wooden sword as he walked.

“It’s too far,” she said. “You’ll never make it. Besides, the girl has been honored. She—”

He yanked hard on the rope. “Honored? You think slavery is an honor?” He gnashed his teeth. “The Order of Light is a plague that needs to be eradicated. All of your kind will suffer a hundred fold for the evils you have wrought upon innocents throughout Kaifaene.”

The woman laughed suddenly. “Poor
Senshu.
You have no idea what you are stumbling into. But it doesn’t have to be this way. There is a clearing nearby. Let me comfort you.”

“Be quiet.” He pulled on the rope again, nearly strangling her this time. She coughed and choked.

Years ago, he had watched the slavers drag his family away. Surrounded by dozens of mercenaries, he had been afraid. Too afraid to even lift his sword to protect them. He glowered at the memories. He had looked for his wife and son afterwards, but there had been too many leads, too many villains to follow—he had been trapped in a labyrinth that led nowhere. There had simply been too much evil to wade through. But he would find Sohka, and he would save her from the fate he had been unable to protect his family from.

Soon, the reddish glow of torches and bonfires flickered through the darkness up ahead. Vosh knocked the lantern out of the woman’s hand, sending it crashing into the dirt. He tossed aside his wooden stick and slipped the steel sword from its sheath on his back. He listened to the faint ringing sound of the blade sliding free. He gently touched Sokha’s satchel, feeling the dusty leather under his fingers, becoming acclimated to its important weight at his side.

“You cannot save her,” the woman said. “You will only die. This is pointless. It is not too late for us to—”

“Be quiet.” He contemplated what to do with the woman. He needed the element of surprise. No doubt she would warn her comrades of his approach if he brought her with him. The merchants’ bodyguards from the inn would be difficult adversaries, and there would probably be many more of them here. He needed every advantage he could get.

But could he let her return to the village to continue her monstrous ways? Others would suffer if he let her go. That was certain.

She seemed to sense what he was thinking. “I will change,” she said quickly. “I swear it by the Starry Heavens. Your courage and resolve has shown me the truth of my misdeeds. You promised to spare me, remember? Let me go, and I will spend my life in goodness.”

“No.” He pulled her close and plunged his sword into her stomach. He covered her mouth with his hand in case she tried to scream. But she only gasped faintly and dropped to her knees. He knelt beside her and ripped the blade up and across her stomach, feeling hot blood and entrails pour over his hands. Her eyes never left him, even as he set her down in the weeds.