For Whom the Bell Trolls: Hands of the Highmage, Book 1 Read online

  It was an hour before dawn when Greth returned. “Well, you all look a sight,” he said as Lawson trudged along, the mounts’ trails behind him.

  “The horses are no longer afraid of me,” Lawson admitted.

  “Can’t say the same for the sleeping girls, who looked practically locked in place.”

  “Have you found a place where we can rest?”

  “Yes, rock shields it and I’ve been obscuring the sign of your and the horses’ passing.”

  “Oh, that’s why you smell so, then,” Lawson replied, grinning.

  “Luckily, there is a brook of water passing through the place I’ve found.”

  “Oh, the girls will likely appreciate that.”

  “And you’d know, Assistant Engineer, since you’ve been training more girls than boys for months now.”

  “They have more delicate fingers than…” Lawson trailed off; realizing Greth was just teasing him.

  “Where is this place, anyway?”

  “This way.”

  #

  Nessa never even felt herself being lifted clear of the saddle as she and the girls laid upon the ground and the blankets settled across them. Lawson swayed as he tried to help with the horses. Greth urged him to lie down and sleep. He was more used to outdoor life and its rigors than ever Lawson would be.

  He chuckled as Lawson began snoring, his blowgun ready at his side. Greth shook his head, still thinking it pretty useless, then sat guard, dagger and broadsword close at hand and closed his eyes listening for the sounds of goblins, horses, or the women scouts who, at best, he had delayed for hours.

  Used to living in the Great Waste or not, he still fell asleep from exhaustion and never heard the slithering sound.

  #

  Drawn to the warmth, the predator slithered beneath the outcropping, which provided the perfect trap for the unwary creatures it enjoyed feasting upon. Its fangs dripped with venom as its hunger led it toward its prey. Tongue tasting the air, it turned away from the scent of goblin which permeated the too large prey.

  The horses grew restless, pulled on their tied reins, hearing the creature so nearby.

  The less threatening scent brought it to the blanketed figure. It sensed the warmth of susceptible flesh, and opened its mouth wide to strike.

  That’s when Yel’ane woke, eyes wide, sensing something, and screamed.

  #

  The girls were all crying as Greth said to him, “You did well.”

  “I heard what apparently woke you, too. Its presence disturbed the horses,” Lawson replied, striking one of his globes to light as the first hints of dawn filled the air.

  Greth nodded, his broadsword blade steaming off the long spell mutated venom. “I’m surprised a Hellsnake could survive this far from the northern waste.”

  “Hellsnake?” Lawson muttered, trying not to look at the creature’s broken and severed head, which amounted to Greth’s aid in his endeavor.

  Yel’ane was cringing amid the huddle of girls, Lawson kneeling beside the remains of her blanket, where wreathed the rearmost half of the fifteen foot long six inch wide black scaled creature, which Lawson had bashed and bloodily smashed to death.

  “I take it back,” Greth said, “that blowgun was more useful than I thought.”

  Lawson glared at him. There wasn’t much left of it after he had used it as a club.

  #

  Yel’ane had woken to the shorter troll creeping up on her, and suddenly swinging his pipe as if to kill her. That’s when she heard the hissing sound and found herself staring into a pair of gleaming red eyes.

  “He saved my life,” she muttered.

  “He certainly did that,” Nessa replied as the girls quieted, while the larger troll removed the giant snake’s remains and the blanket that steamed where the acid of its venom touched, dragging them carefully away from their resting place.

  The shorter troll approached Yel’ane as she trembled, reached out and took her hand, the light stick in the other, he carefully examined her arm, then pushed her head to and fro, frowning as he sought to make certain she had not been struck by a single drop of the venom.

  “I’m fine,” she protested.

  Frowning, he stood her up, then tore her left sleeve off. “Hey!”

  “Yel’ane, it’s steaming!” Ani’ya cried.

  Tossing the fabric aside, Yel’ane felt faint as it crisped and disintegrated. When he pulled her leg out from under her and checked her legs as he held her upside down, she did not protest in the least.

  #

  There was no going back to sleep after that as morning dawned. Nessa asked the girls to help prepare a breakfast of sorts as the taller troll returned after checking that the horses were secure.

  “Yel’ane,” Yel’ane said, tapping her chest after her trembling subsided as the shorter troll watched her for any sign she had been touched by the venom.

  Lawson frowned, then tapped his own chest, “Lawson.” He gestured at his taller companion. “Greth.”

  “What are they?” Vi’ya asked.

  “Trolls,” Yel’ane replied with certainty.

  “There are no such things as trolls,” another of the girls said.

  “And there are no such things as goblins,” Ani’ya retorted.

  “But they can’t be from the Great Waste. Nothing lives there,” another girl said.

  “Well, they aren’t from the Badlands and not likely from the Blight, so they must be from there,” Ani’ya said, smiling at Lawson. “Yel’ane, you should tell him thank you.”

  “Uh, thank you, Lawson.”

  He frowned, nodding.

  “Ani’ya,” the girl said, tapping her chest. “Thank you, Lawson.”

  He smiled back.

  There were no few gasps.

  “I’m Nessa,” Nessa said, tapping her chest, then offered to shake his hand.

  Hesitantly, he did, careful of the strength of his grip.

  “Vi’ya.”

  “En’sta.”

  “Jen’yan.”

  “Lan’lein.”

  “Res’yr.”

  The others hesitated. Yel’ane smiled, “And those are: Jhi’hil, Kar’he, Bet’wis, Fil’iah, Cher’is, and Thri’la.”

  Lawson blinked, wondering if the last girl’s mother knew what her daughter’s name sounded like in Human.

  “Uh, where are you taking us?” Nessa dared ask.

  Lawson frowned, glancing at Greth, who shrugged, uncertain about what she was asking.

  Nessa pointed moved to the edge of the overhead outcropping and looked up at the sky. Pointing south, east and west.

  Greth pointed east and shook his head “no.”

  Nessa nodded, “Good,” shaking her finger east, trying to show him that was good.

  Greth pointed south and west. “Good.”

  Nessa and Yel’ane both chorused, “Good!”

  Greth smiled, careful to hide his teeth, which was as reassuring as that expression could be from a troll. “Good,” he repeated.

  Soon they sat down to breakfast, then within the hour the girls were mounted once more and they hastened across the Badlands, Nessa telling the girls with any luck they would be reunited with the other members of the House soon.

  #

  Hours later they saw carrion birds and they came across two toppled wagons, each with a side smashed in and broken wheels. Greth ran ahead, walking around them. He found first one Cathartan scout’s mauled body, then another near something else, pincushioned with arrows.

  The girls stared, wide-eyed as Nessa saw a bloody rag doll lying nearby.

  Greth waved them to a halt for a moment and followed the track back for a distance, climbing the rise one set of wagons had apparently come from. He signed to Lawson, reporting two more of the slain beasts that he could see.

  Nessa looked at Yel’ane, who told the girls not to look as Lawson gave a nod and began leading the horses away once more, as the girls glimpsed one of the dead Sisters. Fearing they would recogni
ze one of the Aunties or worse, recognize that doll, Nessa said, “How many more did our Sisters kill?”

  Lawson frowned, canted his head, “Two… beasts… there.”

  “Good!” Ani’ya chimed. “They got them all them… Right?”

  “Of course,” Nessa said, “they killed all three.”

  The girls looked at each other as Yel’ane muttered, “All three.”

  Greth jogged back up the path to Lawson, who seemed less than happy.

  Yel’ane recognized only one word, which sounded like “Hellcat.” She swallowed hard, trying not to look at Nessa, who likely understood that dread word as well as she, knowing that word normally denoted an entire pack.

  Frowning, Nessa said to Yel’ane, “It looks to me as if our friends met up with another group.”

  “Safety in numbers,” Yel’ane replied, hoping that would give the gives more signs of hope.

  “Definitely,” Nessa answered, her gaze clearly saying, Who had problems of their own.

  Lawson watched the two older girls matter-of-factly and knew they understood the peril they faced as Greth chose a different direction, leading them north and west, which he hoped would keep them downwind of the beasts.

  No one questioned the choice.

  Chapter 11 – Cathart

  Bells rang across Catha, tolling that a Sire was dead. Windows were shuttered tight all along the main thoroughfare as Mother Shaman De’ohr walked along out of the mansion’s front gate, black banners dressing the walls behind her.

  The delegation of Mother Shamen marched up the street in all their regalia and in black robes. They paused before De’ohr.

  “Sister, we grieve with you,” the foremost intoned. “The boy has succumbed to the Curse, at last.”

  De’ohr frowned, “Nay, Sire Ryff lies dead of poison.”

  “What?” several women hissed.

  “I take it your visions were not entirely clear… except for the one of you whose House schemed this abomination,” De’ohr grated.

  “We will need to see his body for ourselves,” one of the Mother Shamans demanded.

  “You think she lies?” one of the delegation demanded.

  “I think she would do anything to elevate the boy she claims is the one of prophecy,” the woman replied.

  De’ohr raised her hand. The Sisters opened the gate behind her. “Such words I expected of you. Come, my brother lies in state in the courtyard.”

  She led the delegation within, having foreseen this moment, and planned for it.

  #

  “Ryff dead,” the Cathart Lord rasped, seated alone at the great table in the manse’s Hall.

  “His lips showed the sign of the poison, Milord,” his Mother Shaman stated, standing across from him.

  “And what of the boy?” he asked, glad he had ordered everyone else out.

  “Mother Shaman Eve’lyn demanded to see him and Mother Shaman De’ohr refused. Two other Mother Shamen seconded her demand, claiming the boy must be brought forth and decisions begun.”

  “And De’ohr refused, of course… She’ll have him in hiding by now.”

  “Such is my thought, Milord.”

  “Mother Shaman Eve’lyn doubtless made demand of her lord’s rights.”

  “She did.”

  “I take it De’ohr made answer to that.”

  “She acceded.”

  “She what?” he replied, leaning forward.

  The Mother Shaman sighed, “She offered all the city properties as is his right as first born. She offered every daughter that they leave in the manse… all others belong to the Secondson.”

  “Mother Shaman Eve’lyn, rejected that last part, I take it.”

  “Yes, Milord, which the vast majority of the other Mother Shamans rejected as well. The boy is to receive nothing of his father’s.”

  “And what did De’ohr say to that?”

  “She smiled and announced that in that case the House would Shatter and leave Catha, forever.”

  “Which is why I take it, I am called to Court of Lords.”

  “Aye, Milord.”

  “Of which, I will be the single dissenting vote.”

  “No, Milord. You must not dissent.”

  He sat back, “What are you talking about?”

  His Mother Shaman lowered her head, “Husband, I have not been entirely candid with you… I have foreseen this moment.”

  “You’ve the Sight?”

  “Not as strongly as my Sister, De’ohr.”

  #

  Myff, firstborn of Sire Ryff shrieked, “They mock me!”

  Mother Shaman Eve’lyn urged her lord to calm, “Shattered they will be, all your Sire’s unmarried daughter forfeit to you, Milord. You will be able to offer them in bond to the other House, who will in turn, gift you their daughters as if you are the Secondson of the legend.”

  “What went wrong? My brother was to die, not my father!”

  “We will know soon enough… even if we must capture one or more of the soon to be former Sisters and exact the information from her as you watch.”

  Lord Myff nodded, face flushing, clearly pleased by that thought.

  The Mother Shaman frowned, watching him carefully.

  “My brother must not escape us.”

  “He will not. We watch the manse.”

  “You think it likely he will come to the Lord’s Court to demand his rights?”

  “Oh, he must, mustn’t he, Milord?”

  “Eve’lyn, you are precious.”

  #

  The poison should have killed the boy, the woman reminded herself, cursing the mischance that had made Sire Ryff sample from Vyss’s plate that night, only to make a strangling sound and gag before the Mother Shaman could do anything to save him.

  Vyss was whisked away, in shock.

  She needed to get close to the boy. One quick stab of her poisoned tip and the prophecy that would end their way of life would be over and done, once and for all. A blade stabbed her through the kidney from behind, whispering, “By the Secondson’s will.”

  As the traitorous woman slumped, the young woman in the shadows drew her from sight, then seemed to vanish.

  #

  “I can’t do this,” Tes’sa whispered, dressed in Vyss’s Lordly regalia.

  Lady Aly’na glared, “You will play your part.”

  “I… I don’t want to die like father.”

  “That I can promise you, at least,” Aly’na answered.

  Her niece blinked, going a bit pale. “Uh, that’s not what I meant.”

  “I know… son. I’ll do my best to see you live longer than I do.”

  “Thank you… I, um, think.”

  “Talk more softly,” Aly’na cautioned. “Better yet, whisper to me to speak in your stead.”

  Tes’sa nodded as the Honor Guard led them out of Vyss’s rooms and to the waiting coach, praying Lady Aly’na would live to a ripe old age.

  #

  They saw Lord Vyss board the coach, which soon exited the manse’s ground on to the street. Flashing the small mirror, the signal was passed.

  The Lord’s Court would soon be in session minus the supposed guest of honor. The women readied themselves. The coach slowed, passing an alley as the black liveried Honor Guardswomen shouted, “Make way! Make way!” as several little girls suddenly raced across the street in front of them.

  The watcher on the nearest rooftop cursed at the delay, which was not of their choosing. Moments later, the coach was once more on its way. A woman threw pitch in front of the coach’s horse as another threw some down on the coach, itself. Torches followed as the guards cried, “Treason!”

  The pitch burned hot and fast as the horses burst free of the traces in terror. No one made it out of the coach as the guards sought to douse the flames to no effect.

  #

  The Lords of Catha, fewer than ever in the entire history of the land, gathered in the Court. Mother Shaman Eve’lyn explained the House of Ryff’s decision to Shatter an
d demanded her lord’s rights.

  Lord Erone listened to it all, wondering if Vyss would dare step into the ancient hall and demand his due as his right, for all the good it would do him.

  When the doors did open, it proved to a messenger, “Milords! Pardon the intrusion, but Lord Vyss… Lord Vyss is dead. Burned to death on his way here.”

  “Burned?” Erone shouted, practically leaping to his feet. “What happened?”

  The other lords looked at each other. All save one, Erone noted, thinking, You vile bastard!

  The woman trembled, “Pitch was poured upon his coach and set afire. It burned quick, and too hot to put out. He and Lady Aly’na were trapped inside.”

  “How tragic,” Vyss’s older brother said. “And it does make much of the reason we’re here today moot, does it not?”

  Erone glared. “Don’t you think we should try track down—”

  “Of course, we must seek out the rabble that was incensed by the mere existence of a Secondson.”

  “I agree!” the lord on his right said. “We must hunt down the fools!”

  Erone sat back down, hiding his clenched fists.

  #

  “You all right?” Lady Aly’na asked sometime later.

  “My shoulder,” Tes’sa replied, hugging her upper arm, “Lady, I think you broke it shoving me out of the coach so hard.”

  Lady Aly’na felt around the girl’s collarbone, “You’ll be fine. Nothing broken.”

  “What’s all the shouting about?” Tes’sa asked.

  “My guess: the fact that you and I are dead.”

  “Huh?”

  “Lass, you are so like Vyss sometimes… We were never going to make it to Court, which is why we’re going to enjoy hiding down here in these cellar rooms so much.”

  “Uh, can I get out of these clothes, then?”

  “Yes, but hang them up, Vyss will need them one day,” she replied, actually hoped and prayed, knowing he should already be safely out of the city by now.

  Tes’sa opened the clothes cabinet and stared, “Um, Lady, these are boy’s clothes.”

  “Oh, those are for you, lass. When the time’s right, you’re going to haunt the city from time to time.”

  “I am?” she squeaked.

  “We’re going to make them pay for this… make all of them pay for this.”

  #

  De’ohr led the black liveried women out of the manse gates and down the city’s cobblestone streets, some carrying unweaned babes and one clearly pregnant. They marched bracketed by their House Champions, and scores of archers, while the Sisters took with them only what they could carry upon their persons.