“Well enough,” she said. Her voice sounded different as well. More mature, more seasoned. Yes, the Trial had toughened her up all right. That could be a problem, though not an insurmountable one.
“Thank you for coming,” she added.
Thank you? That may be a first
. Edgard tried to remember a time before this one that Indra had expressed gratitude toward him in any form. But it told him something important. It told him that Indra needed him, and she knew it. She was willing to at least show him some respect, even if only to win his favor.
Not so much as to accept her own father’s embrace, of course. That would be too much to ask
.
“How could I not come, for my only daughter?” he said with a warm smile, though the sentiment seemed only to make Indra cringe. It was still too much, too soon, he saw. How carefully must he tread for fear of offending this insolent child? Did she not realize how her own disrespectful behavior offended him?
“You will see that I am unarmed,” she said, seemingly keen to get on with things. “I come here in good faith.”
Edgard had not thought to notice it, but now he saw that the hilts of the two swords that would normally be visible over Indra’s shoulders were not there. The fact that she thought this necessary concerned him.
“There was no need for that,” he said, opening his hands in a conciliatory gesture. “You are not my enemy. And I hope you understand that I am not yours, either.”
Indra nodded, though she seemed unconvinced. “Did you bring Cuthbert?”
Edgard sighed and motioned to one of the men behind him, who turned and ran back toward the encampment. Indra and Edgard regarded each other in silence, one reluctant to speak and the other unsure what to say. It came as a relief to both when Cuthbert finally appeared, gathering up his monastic robe at his feet to keep it from dragging through the mud as he trudged awkwardly toward them.
Indra brightened immediately at the sight of him, something Edgard did not fail to notice. As Cuthbert drew level with him, Edgard saw Indra smile at the scraggy priest in a way she never
had toward him, her own father, and for a moment it made him hate them both.
“Cuthbert, it’s good to see you,” said Indra.
“My lady,” replied Cuthbert with a bow.
Enough of this
. “Well, here we all are. Where is it?”
Indra bristled. “I think you mean where is
he
?”
“Well, night has fallen,” said Edgard with a thin smile. “If this man is as you described, I believe that, as of this moment, my wording is correct.”
“He is close by,” said Indra. “I couldn’t convince him to stay with me, but I’ve been tracking him. He doesn’t know.”
“Did he try to harm you in any way?” Edgard asked.
“No. I don’t believe he wants to harm anyone.”
Edgard nodded, then motioned toward the woods from which Indra had come. “Well, then. We are ready. Lead the way.” He made to step forward but Indra stayed him with an out-held palm.
“First, I will have your word,” she said.
Edgard looked at her quizzically. “My word?”
“That you mean to help this man, not do him harm.”
“Of course,” said Edgard. “Was that not your request? Is that not why I have come? I will do all that I can for this unfortunate soul, if you will just bring me to him.”
Edgard waited, but Indra did not move. She scrutinized his face as though trying to divine his true intent, then looked to the paladins of the Order assembled in the camp behind him. “If you came out here to help him,” she said, “why bring a dozen armed men?”
“A precaution only,” said Edgard in a reassuring tone. “We know nothing of this man other than the little that you wrote.”
“I told you he means no harm. You don’t trust me?”
“Of course I do. But you must trust me in return, or else what are we doing here?”
Indra appeared uncertain for a moment, then turned her attention to Cuthbert. “I know that you will tell me the truth,” she said. “Can this man’s curse be lifted?”
Edgard looked pointedly at the priest. Cuthbert looked away, then down at his feet, as he struggled with his conscience. Then, at last, his eyes returned to Indra’s. “No,” he said grimly. “But—” Edgard cut him off with a sharply raised hand.
Indra glared angrily at Edgard. “And of course you would have known that before you departed with a dozen men-at-arms at your back. I should have known better than to hope for the truth from you. You were feeding me lies when I was barely old enough to hear them.”
“Enough!” Edgard barked at her, his patience at an end. “I am your father and you will obey me!”
Edgard’s thundering voice rattled several of the armed men behind him, but Indra remained unmoved. “I believe I’ve made it clear, many times, how I feel about that,” she said calmly.
Edgard took a step forward, scowling menacingly. “Very well. If you will not accept my authority as your father, you will accept it as your commanding officer. As lord marshal of the Order, I—”
“I won’t allow you to harm this man,” said Indra, still unbowed. “He is innocent and should not be punished for the actions of a beast beyond his control.”
“I would not wish to punish a rabid dog for its actions either,” said Edgard, “but still it must be put down.” He put his hand to his forehead and looked to the sky, exasperated. “Why are we still talking about this as though it were a negotiation? You will take us to this man without further argument or obstruction. Now.”
Indra heard a rustling behind her and looked around to see eight more of Edgard’s men, swords drawn, emerging from the trees. They fanned out around her together with the dozen in front of her, circling her entirely. She looked back at Edgard as though part of her had expected this. “What was that you said about trust?”
Edgard shrugged. “As I said, useful only so long as it is mutual. If you will not trust me, then you force my hand. One way or another, you will lead us to this beast.”
Indra looked at the faces of the men surrounding her. Hard and battle-scarred, every one. She recognized most of them. Some she had beaten and battered in the sparring circle, and she did not doubt that they would be only too happy to return the favor now, given the order. She looked back to Edgard. “You won’t harm me. You know it won’t work.”
Edgard sighed; he had known the ploy was unlikely to succeed, but he still had cards left to play. “No. But I will have you tied and taken back to Canterbury while my men conduct a thorough search of this area. If this abomination of yours is not far from here, I doubt it will take them long to find it. Or you can take us to it and avoid a hunt that I am sure would go harder on the beast than on us. I leave the choice to you.”
He hoped still to convince her, to do this without engendering still more resentment toward him. He stepped closer, close enough to reach out and touch her, but she retreated again.
“Indra, I only want what is best for you. Help us, and on our return to Canterbury you will be rewarded with full investiture into the Order. The youngest paladin there has ever been, and the first woman. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”
She looked at him with contempt and shook her head. “You don’t understand at all, do you? You never will.”
Edgard knew then that nothing he could say or do would overcome the disdain she still held for him. With a heavy sigh, he motioned to his men. She stood stock-still as they closed the circle around her, but when the nearest man reached for her arm, he stumbled, trying to grasp something that was not there. A moment later, a second man grabbed her with both arms from behind, only to fall forward, clean through the very spot where she stood. Edgard watched in astonishment as another man and another tried to take hold of her, their hands passing through the formless apparition.
Cuthbert was the first to comprehend what was happening, and he could not keep a smile from creeping across his lips. All he could do was turn his face away so that Edgard did not see it.
Edgard marched toward Indra and thrust out his hand. Like all the others, it passed cleanly through her body as though she were no more than a shadow. She met his gaze and gave him a crooked smile. “It would appear we trust each other equally,” she said. And then she was gone, her ghost shimmering and fading into nothing before Edgard’s eyes.
He stood there for a moment in bewilderment. Then he whirled and seized Cuthbert by the throat, the priest’s legs pedaling backward frantically as Edgard marched him toward the nearest tree and pinned him against it, glaring in wild-eyed fury.
“You taught her magick?” he hissed, leaning in close, flecks of spit from between his gritted teeth landing on Cuthbert’s face. “You taught her to
scry
?”
Cuthbert groped helplessly at the hand clamped around his neck. His face began to turn red, his mouth opening and closing like a fish flapping on a riverbank as he gasped for breath.
Edgard loosened his grip, just enough to allow Cuthbert to speak.
“She wanted to learn, and I could not dissuade her! My lord, you must understand, that girl can be most insistent when she is of a mind. She will not take no for an answer!”
Edgard released his grip and Cuthbert slipped to his knees against the tree, gulping in air.
“Truer words were never spoken,” Edgard said as he looked toward the spot where Indra had disappeared. Then back to Cuthbert. “Idiot! What were you thinking, telling her the truth when she asked what could be done? Until then we had her! What other truths might you have told her had she asked, I wonder?”
Cuthbert looked up, pathetic, crumpled in the mud at the base of the tree, still trying to catch his breath. How the man had
survived in this world so long on only his wits—ample though they were—was a mystery Edgard was sure he would never solve.
“None that are for me to tell her,” the priest said in a hoarse voice.
Edgard took his meaning, and it was not appreciated. He drew back his hand to strike. Cuthbert flinched and threw up his arms, and that was enough for Edgard. He gave an amused smirk, then reached out and offered his hand. He still needed the priest, after all.
Gingerly, Cuthbert took Edgard’s hand and was pulled to his feet. Edgard turned his attention back to the darkened woods surrounding them. “How far away might she be?” he asked.
“It depends on the level of her ability,” said Cuthbert. “At best, she could be as far as five miles in any direction.”
Edgard frowned. Under normal circumstances, finding her might be impossible. Fortunately, he knew Indra well enough to suspect some trickery on her part and had come well prepared. “It is a good thing for you,” he said to Cuthbert as the priest brushed the mud from his robes, “that she is not the only one with magickal tricks up her sleeve.”
Wulfric woke among the ashes, squinting against the warm rays of the rising sun. He groaned, his body ringing from head to toe with the aches and pains that had become as familiar a part of his waking as the morning light. He shook the smoldering gray dust from his hair, then swept his hand through the ash at his side until he found where he had left the key, which he used to release the padlock. The chain around him fell slack. He shrugged it loose and, standing, stepped free of it, the warm ash crunching beneath his feet.
Once again, he was coated in its gray residue, with no trace left of the human flesh beneath. In a way, he found it almost comforting. It had been strange to see himself as he had yesterday, as a man he once knew but barely remembered. His skin of ash was part of who he was now, and it felt wrong to have it cast off, though he did not blame the girl for doing it. Her intentions had been born out of kindness. He could not have expected her to understand.
What was it she had called him? A gray ghost? That was accurate enough a description, he supposed. The ghost of a man who once lived, long ago.
He found his cloak and threw it on, then began unwinding the chain from the tree. As usual, the bark was tattered and stripped bare where the beast had strained against it, trying to break free.
As usual, he would have to check every link in the chain to ensure that none had bent or weakened. If even one had—
“Wulfric.”
She was standing on the other side of the tree.
Wulfric let out a groan of exasperation. Though he had known she would try to follow him, he had been certain that he had lost her yesterday; the path he had taken should have been enough to lose anyone. This girl seemed to have a way of confounding his estimation of her. And of not understanding the simple concept of
no
.
“Girl,” he said wearily, “I will not tell you again—”
She moved toward him, and now Wulfric saw that there was something different in her demeanor. There was an urgency about her, bordering on fear, and she looked as though she had barely slept since last he saw her.
“Listen to me,” she said. “We need to go, as far from here as we can, as quickly as we can. I will explain, but first we must get moving. Enough time has been lost already.”
“We?” said Wulfric. “I thought I had made myself clear.”
“You don’t understand!” she said. “I have placed you in grave danger. We must go, now!”
Wulfric did not know quite what to make of this. So many times had he died and been reborn that he no longer thought of himself as capable of being in danger; he was more accustomed to thinking of those he might put in danger if he were careless.
“In danger how?” he asked.
“The Order is here. They’re looking for you. Right now.” He could see by the way she carried herself, shifting her weight fitfully from one foot to the other, that she was beside herself with worry.
“Wulfric, I’m sorry. My father is a powerful man; he commands the Order, and I thought I might persuade him to help you. I was wrong. He intends to hunt you down, and has brought the best of his men with him.”
Wulfric took a moment to think on this. Then, calmly, he gathered his robe around himself and sat down, planting himself cross-legged at the base of the tree where he had slept.
“What are you doing?” said Indra. “This is not a joke! If they come here and find you they will kill you!”