La’tiera sat up, feeling achy and spent. The smell of earth was strong in her nostrils, as well as those of plants she didn’t know. She looked around to find herself surrounded by walls of green, with occasional tufts of white.
She realized she was in the fields on the outskirts of the village. She had been betrayed again, and ran away to be alone—she hadn’t cared where at the time. She had cried all her eyes had to give and now only felt a deep, sad emptiness.
She peered up at what she could see of the sky above the stalks and found it filled with a quickly darkening purple. Night was almost upon her. Gingerly, she rose to her feet and wiped at her still-damp face then shook what dirt she could off her skirt and legs. She turned slowly, squinting in the decreasing light, but all she saw were stalks in all directions. Which way was the way out?
As she pondered which direction to try, or if to try at all, she realized she was still alone, that no voices called for her, that the troupe was not combing every inch of the fields to find her. Maybe they were confident she wouldn’t go far. That she would go back to them out of fear of the darkness. She felt her ire rise. Maybe it was time to make them worry. She was used to being in the dark alone. She felt no need to scurry back to them at all.
A noise off to the right made her turn around a little too quickly. Something was moving through the stalks. A touch of fear flared inside her, but it dissipated almost as fast as it came. It was probably just one of the villagers. If so, they would be able to lead her out of here, and she would be able to tell them of her plight, get their help in making her way back to her uncle.
“Hello?”
The movement stopped.
“Is someone there?”
The light was fading rapidly. The sounds of movement picked up again, much faster than before. She quivered inside as she told herself there was absolutely nothing to fear. It was one of the villagers, not some beast from the forest or a dragon intent on supper. It had to be.
“La’tiera!”
Just as she registered who it was, she was enveloped in his arms.
“By the Four Gods! I thought I’d never find you.”
Dal’s breath tickled her ear as she stood in stunned surprise. His arms crushed her against him, almost painfully. But though she could barely breathe, his warmth, his strength felt oddly comforting.
“La’tiera, say something. Are you all right?”
She was almost sorry as he let her go and took a step back.
“I’m…fine.” She glanced away from the open worry on his face. It was then, she noticed her satchel hanging from his side. She stiffened, reminded of what had made her run away in the first place. But why bring it here?
“We need to go back. The others are surely very worried about us by now.”
He hadn’t gone back and told them she was gone?
Dal hesitated a moment, then took off the satchel hanging from his shoulder.
“Here, this is yours.” He held it out to her. “It was a gift. It’s all it was meant to be. I swear it. I bought it for you because I thought you would enjoy it, that’s all.”
She meekly took the satchel back and said nothing. She wanted to believe him, though she wasn’t sure why. But she wasn’t quite ready to…yet.
“Come on, we’d better get moving before we lose all the light.” Taking her hand loosely in his, he led the way.
She was tempted to pull her hand away, but as the darkness closed in the contact felt more like a life-saving tether, and she was suddenly loath to drift on her own.
The crops’ protruding leaves and maturing ears bumped against her as she walked. She could feel small aches where they must have hit her in her heedless flight. The darkness increased, and she tried her best not to think of them as reaching hands intent on dragging her off and never letting go.
Soon, she couldn’t see much of anything. She tightened her hold on Dal’s hand and moved a little closer to him. She followed him blindly, wondering how he knew the way.
One moment she was wrapped in darkness. The next she was facing a million small candles lit up in the sky.
They’d finally made their way out of the fields.
“Which way is the village?” She blinked, her eyes still dazzled by the seeming brilliance of the sky compared to the almost total darkness of a few moments ago.
“That way.” Dal pointed off to the left, and she saw lights closer to the ground in that direction.
La’tiera let go of his hand, not looking at him when she realized she was still holding onto it. Dal said nothing, instead leading the way again by following the edge of the field.
She was amazed at how truly dark it was out here. At home, there had always been a little light coming through the windows from the ramparts, the moon or the fireplace in her room on stormy nights. Here, the dark almost felt like it possessed a life of its own, all-encompassing. It made the village seem lonely, separated from other life, a small island in a huge sea of black.
Suddenly eager for more light, for life, she stuck close to Dal as they continued forward.
A shrill scream tore the silence. La’tiera froze, eyes wide, remembering other screams and what they meant. But it was too soon! She glanced up into the sky searching for the Herald and found him, his tail still not full of fire but so much brighter than before. He had not graced the heavens long enough for it to be time. But if it wasn’t the demons, then what…?
Dal touched her arm, and she jumped. “I’ve no idea what that was, so let’s go around until we can sort out what’s going on. Allright?”
She couldn’t see his face clearly, but had a feeling he’d been as unnerved by the scream as she had. She nodded at his suggestion, feeling suddenly cold.
He took a long circuit around the houses, coming in while keeping the troupe’s wagons between them and the village. The wagons’ outer lamps were unlit, making it easy for them to approach without being seen.
There was no sign of the others. Dal slowed down, half-crouched, trying to look everywhere at once.
The sounds of harsh voices, weeping and frightened murmurs drifted to them as they neared the closest of the wagons.
“Bring the next one forward.”
They heard a yelp and sounds of a struggle. Dal pointed to the underside of the middle wagon then crawled beneath it to look out the other side.
The villagers were gathered in two groups across the way, ten uniformed men surrounding them. Two had taken hold of Shierla and were dragging her to face a man wearing a conical helmet.
“Hold her fast.”
Shierla vainly struggled in the grip of the two guards. “Let go of me! I’ve done nothing wrong.”
The men from the village in the one group looked angry; the weapons of the soldiers were poised to attack anyone who moved. The women, separated into the other group, looked pale and full of fear, some of the children watching with wide eyes while others huddled close to their mother’s skirts, tears glistening on their faces.
A slap echoed in the clearing as the commander hit Shierla across the face.
“Silence!”
She would have fallen from the force of the blow if not for the two holding her. La’tiera covered her cheek with a hand, never having seen someone do violence to another. She felt Dal tense beside her.
While Shierla still reeled from the blow, the leader grabbed her bodice with both hands and yanked it apart, exposing her breasts.
“Wonderful, it’s not this one, either.” He sounded almost bored. “Bring on the next.”
The two guards dragged a weeping Shierla back to the other women. As soon as they let her go, she dropped to the ground sobbing, trying to cover her exposed flesh. La’tiera realized with horror that a number of the other women had had their clothes ripped as well.
As the guards moved to grab another woman, Tersa strutted out of the huddled mass.
“I’ll be next.”
“No!” Mishal took a step forward from the men only to find two guards in his path, sharp weapons aimed at his midriff. Rostocha and Kyr grabbed him.
Tersa sauntered forward, not waiting for the two guards. She was no longer wearing the working clothes she’d had on while doing laundry, but one of her beaded dancing costumes. The bells on her ankles rang as she walked.
The commander held up a hand, stalling the two guards about to grab and stop her.
“Leave her be. It’s good to see some cooperation for once.”
La’tiera shivered, watching the man’s eyes raking Tersa’s lithe body. The dancer smiled at him warmly, as if she’d wanted nothing else from him.
“I understand you’re only carrying out your duty. And there’s no reason why complying has to be unpleasant.” Her sultry voice wove around him as she reached up and slowly undid the ties to her beaded bodice.
“Yes, only doing our duty.” The man licked his lips as if they’d suddenly turned dry. “And so are you by following the viscount’s orders.”
La’tiera felt her heart skip a beat. Her uncle ordered these men to do this?
“Is that right?” Tersa’s smile turned mysterious. She was still pulling slowly on the bodice’s strings. “Still, it would help so much more if we knew why we needed to do this.”
The man swallowed hard, Tersa now standing very close to him, her hands never stopping in their assigned task.
“It is only for the viscount to know why.” His voice grew slightly slurred, his eyes never leaving her bodice. “We’re to search every woman we see, no exception, to find one with a mark on her chest. If we find her, she’s to be arrested and taken to him.”
Her uncle was looking for her! But why like this? Didn’t he believe she would want to go back to him?
“He’s looking for a woman with a mark?” The last of the string fell away. “Do these look marked to you?” She pulled her costume open on both sides, but only to where the commander would be the only one to see the fruit hidden there.
The man’s hands half rose, his fingers twitching, before they fell down again. “N–No, not marked. Very lovely.”
“You’re too kind.” Tersa leaned forward until they almost touched then pulled away and turned, closing her costume as she did so. Her soft laughter echoed in the clearing as she made her way back to the women.
“Ne—” The leader cleared his throat. “Next.”
Before the guards could grab someone, one of the village women stepped boldly forward.
La’tiera almost jumped as Dal shifted to whisper in her ear. “We need to go.”
Go? Go where?
As he crawled backwards out from under the wagon, La’tiera numbly found herself following suit. She opened her mouth to finally ask what he meant, but he motioned for her to be quiet and follow.
She took two steps then realized he was asking her to leave behind her one possible chance at rescue, even if what she’d just seen totally horrified her. She wrapped her arms about herself for courage.
“Dal, I’m…I’m not going with you.”
He turned around at her soft whisper. “You must! By the Gods, La’tiera, this is not the time to be stubborn. Think about it, please!” He shook his head in exasperation. “You’re a stranger to all this, but we’ve no time, so I’ll be blunt. If you go back, those men will do the same to you as we’ve just seen them do to the villagers. Rostocha and the others won’t stand for it, and they’ll get hurt, if not killed. And do you think they’re just going to let the villagers alone once they realize they were harboring you?”
She felt her skin turn cold. “But they didn’t…It was you…the troupe…”
“They won’t ask, they won’t care! Please, La’tiera.”
What had been done to Shierla replayed in her mind. If they were capable of something like that, what else might they do?
“Allright.”
Dal led her back toward the fields then on past them. As they walked and she shuddered over the violence she’d seen, another thought came to her. If those men were so sure she was there, what would they do when they didn’t find her? Would they punish the village? Would they do more violence just to make some kind of example out of them? Her emotions swept from side to side. But the villagers were all innocent…
“We can’t do this!” Her harsh whisper brought Dal to a stop.
“We don’t have a choice. There’s nothing we can do to help. And we have to get you out of here.”
There was a tightness to his voice that made it sound as if he were saying this more in an effort to convince himself of the rightness of what they were doing than her.
“If…If I turn myself in, if I tell them who I am before I get too close, surely…surely, they wouldn’t treat me like the others. If they’re already convinced I am there, and they don’t find me…”
He turned slowly to face her. “There’s no guarantee that will happen. We don’t know what other orders they were given. Better if they don’t know whether you truly were there or not than have it confirmed. They might punish them some now, but if they knew for sure they could torch the village or worse. They won’t want any witnesses saying they’ve seen the Bearer.”
She shook her head, sure that her uncle would never order such a thing. But then, he wouldn’t be out here to stop them. And she’d seen how his orders had already been taken out of context and used to hurt others.
“Besides, the time of the Trial is only a few days away. I’ve got to use it to convince you to fight. And the only way to do that is for you to see the holy relic and have it speak to you as it spoke to me.”
“No.” She shook her head. “That won’t work. This relic can show me whatever it wants, but it won’t convince me. How do I know that instead of being something left by the Gods it wasn’t left by the demons instead?”
She saw frustration, then concern and worry flicker in his face and eyes.
“Why are you so determined to die? I can’t understand it.”
She sighed. “It’s why I was born. It’s my reason for existence. And I mean to carry out what I was assigned to do. I am going to save the world.”
Dal shook his head, one moment staring at her in almost admiration, the next looking more frustrated than ever.
“Don’t you have anyone, anything, to live rather than die for?”
La’tiera looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then I’ll show you.”
She raised her eyes to see what he meant and found him very close, his eyes trapping hers.
“What are you…?”
Before she could say anything else, he reached behind her and pulled her close, his lips falling on hers.