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When Jalil released him, Nomar was unable to move a muscle, not even raise an eyelid. He fell sideways and hit the ground. He was fully conscious of Ailish half carrying and half dragging him to his silks and then covering him with them. But as hard as he tried to move or to speak, he couldn’t. He was a captive, locked within the memories the old Master had set free.
As cold as a snow-capped mountain peak, he shivered hard within, while not a single muscle trembled outwardly. His breathing was slow and steady as if he were asleep, yet he slept not; rather, his mind moved at breakneck speeds, repeating over and over what had been locked away for fifteen long years.
He fought to free his body and awaken; but, for all his effort, he saw himself retuning home after the armies of Morvene, with Aldimor’s, help had defeated the black sorceresses’ forces, destroying all but a few who escaped to the Southern Wastelands.
But for him, coming home was not the end of his war, it was the beginning. His parents’ farm was on the eastern edge of Troit, and he saw it again as the memory repeated.
All looked normal when he approached the house, yet a feeling of unease settled over him. The instant he’d touched the door of his parents’ home, his battle-hardened senses warned him something was wrong.
Drawing his sword, and pushing the door open, he stood rooted to the spot. His first sight was of his father laying on the floor surrounded by a pool of blood. The blood was dark and dry.
He knew whatever had occurred, had been at the most, two days before. There were no weapons near his father’s body, telling him this was no simple attack, for during war his father would not have come to the door unarmed.
He swallowed the bitterness flooding his mouth, shut down the emotions trying to control his movements, and stepped past his father’s body. He went deeper into the house, afraid of what he might yet find.
He stepped into the next room and stopped as if he’d walked into a wall. His mother lay on the floor, her throat sliced open. At her side lay his wife.
He knelt next to her lifeless body, a dull dark rage filling him. He screamed, his body spasming with anger as he cried out his grief. He fell across her, his head falling on her breasts. He cried, tears raining as he trembled and shook within the terrible grip of anger and grief.
And then there was a hand on his shoulder, gentle and warm as it pressed upon him. Somehow, his anger eased and the grief propelling his screams and tears faded. He lifted his head from his wife’s breasts, to look into the dark blue eyes of a beautiful young woman.
Behind her stood another woman whom he did not recognize.
“What happened here?” he asked, looking from the woman to his mother and then his wife.
“You are a Captain of the Guards are you not, Nomar?”
His brows rose. “How know you my name?”
“We know you well, Nomar. You fought bravely with your king. You are a powerful warrior. Your king, dead will he soon be, but you ... I have watched and admired your prowess as a warrior.”
He shook his head, confused, yet he sensed no wrongness about this woman or her words. He tried to understand why he no longer felt anger or grief when he looked at his wife’s body.
“Who are you?”
The woman smiled. “My name is Irret. This,” she said, turning to the other, “is Haron. You will be her servant.”
He started to back away, and as he did, understanding struck. She was a dark sorceress, one of the Dark Master’s puppets. A blood rage took him, he reached for his sword with his right hand, his long knife with his left. Before he could draw either, his arms were locked in place by her magic.
Irret’s laughter echoed off the walls. Her eyes turned dark, and her skin transformed from the glow of a young woman, to a dull pallor. She raised one arm, a long finger with a dagger-like nail pointed at him. He was flung back, his breath knocked from his chest when he struck the wall.
The woman stepped closer to him; her eyes bored into his head. She flicked her finger and he crashed face first to the floor. Ten minutes later, his only memory since returning from the fighting, was to find his parents had succumbed to an illness. He had no memory of a wife.
The years since that day and this one flooded his mind. He saw what he had done, and relived the terrible destruction, the killings, and the horrors he’d committed under the control of the black witch Haron—and Irret as well.
He gasped in a lungful of breath. His eyelids snapped open; he stared at the sky, breathing deeply, and controlling the rage and the horror of the memory of what had been his life. The moon had dipped below the horizon, but the stars were still bright above. What have I done? How many have I destroyed by her commands? Tears slid from the corners of his eyes. But these tears of sorrow and pain were followed with a promise of retribution to come.
<><><>
Lezah was at the base of the old mountain road, ready to ascend and follow Ailish, when the Free Blade Nomar killed her danglore.
She reined in the kraal and waited until the sensations of its death faded. Then she led the kraal off the narrow old road, and into the trees, where she dismounted.
Sitting on the ground next to the kraal, she pushed her hands into the earth. When her fingers were buried their full length, and only her disfigured knuckles remained visible, she called up all her powers.
Closing her eyes, she built a picture of Irret and pushed her senses toward her mistress. If Irret was close enough, she would be able to touch her mind. When the picture was complete, she chanted the formula her mistress had taught her. After a minute of waiting, Irret said, You have need of me?
The woman and the Master are camped near the great Northern Lake.
Show me what you saw.
Lezah opened her mind to Irret, who dug into her memories, saw what Lezah had seen through the danglore’s eyes, and heard what the danglore heard.
As you saw. They travel west, not north as you said. This makes no sense if they go to the Tar Fields.
I know not what they plan ... yet. But west they go. Continue to follow them.
Yes, Mistress.
Come to you later I will.
<><><>
With the appearance of the sun, Ailish rose to find Nomar turning two freesh over the fire.
Without speaking, she went into the woods to take care of her personal needs, and then went to the creek and washed. When she emerged in the clearing, Nomar was slicing the freesh.
“A pleasant day,” he said to her with a smile. “The sun is warm, and the sky clear. A good omen for your continued journey.”
She nodded; his cheerful words did not reflect the emotions she sensed warring within him. No, she corrected herself, not warring; rather, what she sensed was more akin to a warrior preparing for battle.
Was she right, she wondered? Or, was it her own emotions because he was leaving, and she had not only enjoyed his company, but had found him an interesting travel companion? Whatever reason, she would miss him.
“To where do you go now?”
“Of that I know not. Perhaps to Troit. I have not been home in years.”
His words were light, yet she sensed more within them. “Have you family still there?”
A shadow passed across his eyes, but an instant later he smiled. “Old friends, yes. My parents ... have passed.”
“I understand.”
“Come, eat,” he said.
When she was seated across form him, he held out a piece of the freesh for her. She took it and, as she ate, asked, “And then?”
“I’m not sure. I have some unfinished business to take care of.” His words were accompanied by a sharp sting within her head. He was lying. Her gift from Nyrak had come alive the instant he’d spoken.
She studied him for a moment. “Would you consider staying in Troit? I am sure I can find you a post there.”
Nomar’s laugh was both humorous and bitter at the same time. “Find me a post can you,” he repeated, smiling, and nodding his head. “After what has happened to me, you would trust me to be near your son? You have no idea of the things I have done under her control.”
“Why would I not trust you? You have shown yourself to be a man of great ability, and I believe one of integrity as well.”
“And one who falls too easily under the control of a black witch.”
“No, that will not happen. You are past that.”
He stared at her, his eyes roaming her face. “You believe whatever the old man did will prevent the dark ones from taking me again? He freed my mind, yes, but he also gave me back my memories of ... everything.”
“What he did, I know not. What he saw, what you now see, I know nothing of. What I have is my ability to judge. And I judge you innocent of all you have done, for it was not you, Nomar. Such is the fact you and only you must come to accept—whatever it was they made you do; it was not you! Remember you must, it was the two of them who made you do those things. You did nothing on your own.”
He started to speak, but she cut him off with a wave of her hand. “Now, my Free Blade,” she said, wiping her hands across the grass to clean them, “we have a matter of importance to settle.”
His brows drew together, separated only by three vertical grooves in his forehead. “I do not understand.”
With her left hand, Ailish slipped the small ring from her finger and held it out for him. “Although it holds no monetary value, it was your price.” She waited until he lifted it from her palm before saying. “It has been an honor to have you with us.”
He smiled. “Thank you, My Lady. The village you go to. I have been there before. Most are simple people who will treat you with respect.”
Nodding, she stood. “It’s time to move forward. Help me with the litter, please.”
When the litter was settled upon the kraal, and Jalil acknowledged his readiness to travel, she went to where Nomar was packing his kraal.
“Nomar.”
He turned and met her eyes. There was barely a two-inch difference in their height. She stretched out her arm and he did the same. When they grasped each other’s forearms, Ailish spoke the traditional warrior’s farewell. “May your feet be swift, your sword true, and your way safe.”
His eyes crisscrossed her face. “I wish you good fortune on your journey, My Lady. And a safe return as well.”
She could not stop the stab of sadness his words brought up. But she controlled it and smiled. “Thank you, Nomar,” she said, releasing his forearm and returning to the kraal. Behind her, Yar followed, but his head kept turning back to Nomar.
