Secrets of the Night Special Edition (76 page)

“Overthrow Balor, yes, as soon as we can. I've been on your side all along, madam,” he said with a wry smile. Dead leaves and bracken crunched beneath the horse's hooves, skeletal branches swaying in a cool breeze. Oaks, maples, and hickories surrounded them, their tangled branches reaching to the sky. A dense undergrowth of golden hay-scented fern carpeted the forest floor, its aroma mingling with the dank smell of the woods. Strange, long-winged birds tenanted the upper limbs, winging from branch to branch, squawking in the cool air.

Stirred by the sights and sounds of the forest, she brought her mind back to his query. "Major, I hated you serving that fiend, Balor." She gave him a questioning glance. “Why did you do it?”

"I was doing it for the good of the country.” He shoved a low-hanging branch out of the way, holding it back for her as he maneuvered the horse past. “As hard as it may be to believe, I was serving you, too." He sighed. “Princess Keriam, please understand one thing. My allegiance is to you and you alone, always has been, always will be. I would give my life for you–“His voice broke, and he turned away.

She squeezed his hand, speechless for several moments, more grateful than she could ever express that she had earned such devotion. “I understand, major.” She kept silent then, busy with her thoughts, hearing the muffled clop of the horse’s hooves on the packed pine floor. She wondered what the torathors looked like, these creatures that inhabited these woods. Did they speak her language? Would they accept her their future queen?

"Something I must tell you." Roric steered the horse among the thick clusters of trees, his strong hands clasping the reins. "These folk may not accept you as their princess at first."

She gasped, as if he could read her mind.

He jerked his head around. "Madam?"

She adjusted her position on the horse. "So I must win their trust." But how?

"Princess, I fear there's more to their acceptance than that. They told me you must prove that you have special powers, that you can do something extraordinary they can't do."

"Then they have set an impossible task for me," she lied. Could she finally use one of her abilities to her benefit, or to theirs? For a long time, she'd suppressed her ability to read others' minds by touching them, because the bombardment of images had often proved difficult to absorb. Was it time to resurrect this power? She'd wait and see what transpired, what opportunity arose.

"Let us not worry about the matter now," Roric said in his encouraging way.

Much later, a burst of sunlight, coupled with talk and laughter, told Keriam they'd reached their destination as Roric pushed aside an oak branch to reveal a vast meadow. She heard the rushing waters of the
Deuona
River
in the distance, but thick groups of pines along both banks hid the river from view.

"Here we are." At the edge of the grassland, Roric slid off the horse, then reached for her, his hands warm and gentle around her waist. His face held a look she wished she could fathom, one of deep intensity. She landed on the hard ground, her dress falling to her ankles. Staring around her, she saw the limestone caves to her far right, the caverns backed by grassy mounds.

At their arrival, men, women, and children emerged from the caves, the tallest creatures she'd ever seen, talking in a guttural language she hoped to learn. The women wore plain sack dresses of deerskin, the men wearing shirts and leggings of the same. Young children clung to their mothers' legs, giving her bashful glances. And their hair! The women wore their black and shiny locks to their waist. The men wore theirs in pigtails. Soon, several hundred people had gathered in the clearing, forming a half-circle, their eyes wide with interest.

A stocky man she assumed was the chief approached them, speaking to Roric in a strange language, a staccato speech from deep in the throat. After Roric answered him, the chief looked her up and down, a doubtful frown on his face, then spoke again in his language.

Keriam glanced from one to the other, wishing she understood their speech. However, she got her answer soon enough.

"The chief, Dorn, tells me that the women have prepared a cave for you," Roric translated. "Hardly an abode fit for a princess, but it will have to do for now. Even though they don't accept you as their ruler, as an unmarried female with no relatives here, you must live by yourself. An odd regulation, I'll grant you, but we must abide by their customs."

"Yes, of course. After what I've been through these last few moonphases, I'm sure a cave will suit me fine." A cool breeze sprang up, fluttering her dress around her ankles, blowing her hair across her face. Tucking the locks behind her ears, she flashed a smile at all these strange creatures, hoping her countenance proved a first step in gaining acceptance.

Roric turned and spoke to Dorn in the torathor tongue. The chief nodded, apparently satisfied with the answer. The other villagers remained unmoving and stared at her, their gazes traveling from her head to her feet as they chattered in that strange staccato language.

Two familiar humans headed their way, the most welcome sight in a long time. Besides Roric.

"Conneid! Malvina!" Keriam rushed forward to greet them. "And your new baby!" Dismissing formalities, they all hugged each other, everyone speaking at once.

So glad to have her friends with her, Keriam felt she'd made a good start on adjustment. But this was only her first day. Much time remained that she must stay here, until they destroyed Balor.

If
they could destroy the fiend.

* * *

Two days after the princess's rescue, Radegunda felt she had regained her magical power enough to rid the city of the plague, a purification spell she should have performed long ago. If only her skill had been great enough then, she would have prevented the plague in the first place and saved the princess from her shameful trial and imprisonment. She could have saved hundreds of people from a painful death, she lamented, since poring over her books on magic.

Long after darkness had fallen on the city, she sat in her kitchen chair and worked by the light of an oil lamp, fashioning a doll out of cloth scraps she'd collected over the years. She painted eyes, nose, and mouth on its face, then painted large black spots on its body to represent the black fever pustules. She wrapped a leaf of angelica around it and tied it with a string to keep the leaf in place, heartened by the herb's sweet fragrance. Would it work? It had to!

Satisfied with her creation, she left her apartment in the deepest hour of night, while the rest of the city slept, except for the tavern dwellers, pleasure women, and vagrants who roamed the streets. Clouds blocked the moon and hid the stars, conditions that greatly aided her purpose. With resolute strides, she headed north to the warehouses on the city's outskirts. Looking in every direction, she prayed she'd elude the city sentries. If she were captured . . . No! She wouldn’t think about that. Her heart beat fast with every step, her thick shoes scuffling along the cobblestones.

She clutched the doll, crushing the leaf until she was forced to ease her grip. At the end of
Perfume Lane
, a mongrel dog rummaged through overturned garbage, growling at her. She hastened on until she came to Pleasure Alley, the women there roaming the street while calling out to the occasional man. Past the many shops, then on past countless other side streets and alleys, she finally reached
Warehouse Street
, next to a wide oak and a clump of earthberry bushes.

Holding the doll aloft, she invoked the fire spell, one she'd practiced again and again by the river. Magic quivered and sang inside her, a living thing, a powerful entity.

Ragegunda waited long minutes as the doll grew warm, then sizzling hot in her hand. The smell of smoke filled the air; then smoke drifted upward, and soon the doll burst into flames. Yet she waited a while longer before releasing it, until it singed her fingers. She ignored the pain, and with one last surge of power, tossed the doll onto a wooden warehouse that claimed a large portion of the street.

The witch raised her arms, her voice rising to the sky.

Aithnea, goddess of fire

Cernuna, goddess of healing

Let this fire perform its magic

Destroy the plague and save the people

I beseech you in the name of the Earth-Mother

Goddess who rules over all.

The building grew hot, the heat intense from where she stood. Dull embers became crackling flames that leaped from its walls, in no time spreading to other structures. Clouds of smoke wafted heavenward, driven by a strong northerly wind. Aided by the dry air, the conflagration widened, and minutes later, flames neared the city's finer shops, these made of sandstone, bluestone, and sarsenstone.

Radegunda watched in gratified fascination, certain the smoke would destroy the pestilence. At the same time, she prayed that her magic was strong enough to stop the spell she'd begun. Now she would--

"Fire!"

"The city is burning!"

Drunkards stumbled from taverns, and sentries cried in fright, their voices infused with a sense of helplessness. Doors banged back, light spilling onto the cobblestones. People rushed onto the streets, crying and pointing, praying to the Goddess. Soon howling, fearful mobs filled the streets, shouting and pointing, glancing in all directions.

About a block from
Warehouse Street
, a sentry looked her way. "You! What are you doing here? Did you start this fire?" Drawing his sword from its scabbard, he raced in her direction.

Goddess, give me time.
Radegunda raised her arms again, then abruptly dropped them to her side. The fire slackened, then stopped, until only the stench of smoke and a few gray wisps tainted the air. Blackened boards toppled to the ground, falling onto the street with a crash. But the insides of the warehouses remained intact, their contents untouched, protected by her magic.

"After her!"

"She must be a witch. Get her!"

Shouting and screaming, the townspeople joined the hunt, their footsteps ringing on the cobblestones.

Fear consumed Radegunda as the men rushed toward her. Fright and fury infected their faces. With scarcely a minute to spare, she hid behind a bush and shapeshifted to a rabbit. The darkness obscuring her brown fur, she dashed around a corner, soon disappearing from sight.

A sentry reached the bush first, staring wildly from side to side. "What?" His sword drawn, he slashed at the bush and sent leaves flying in all directions. “By Endora, where did she go?”

Others joined him, talking excitedly among themselves. Some grabbed incinerated boards and waved the weapons in barbarous rage. Banging, shouting, and cursing filled the streets.

"Where is she?"

"How could the witch disappear so quickly?"

"If we catch her, she'll burn at the stake."

Afraid to look behind her, Radegunda raced through the streets. Her pulse raced, her gaze darting from right to left.
If they catch you, they'll cook you for stew.
Hurry, hurry, must get home!
She darted around winding alleys, following the twists and turns of the city's many side streets.

At last! The back entrance of her store came in sight. Gathering her strength, she hopped high onto the windowsill, thankful she'd left the window open, and landed on the floor below with a soft thud. Safe once more, she changed back into her human form, doing this in a leisurely fashion.

In the coming days, she was aware she must conceal her identity, in the unlikely chance someone would recognize her and connect her with the fire. She dyed her hair blonde and, still bound by caution, kept to her shop. She sent Adsaluta to purchase food or needed supplies, giving a stiff and painful knee as her excuse.

The smell of smoke hung over the city for days, but warehouse owners soon rebuilt their establishments.

And the plague vanished from the city.

* * *

On a cool morning shortly after Keriam's arrival, Roric found the princess sitting on a boulder in the river, clad in deerskin like the outlander women, washing a brown cotton dress. A tremendous wave of happiness overcame him, and for a few moments, he stopped to stare at her, even though the deerskin hid the alluring soft curves of her body . The blue, foaming waters of the Deuona glistened in the bright sunshine, its waters lapping up onto the shore. Evergreens towered along its banks, and tall grasses and wildflowers flourished in the sandy soil. Pine needles coated the hard ground, the scent of pine carried by a strong northerly wind.

Pleased to see her hair restored to its lustrous black, he regretted that her hands remained rough and calloused, her skin a deep tan. Yesterday, he'd risked another visit to the city, and now he was eager to tell her the news.

First tugging his boots and socks off, he splashed through the water and sat on a boulder beside her, forcing himself to speak in a level voice. More than anything, he wanted to take her in his arms, hold her close. “Madam, I visited Radegunda yesterday.”

Dripping wet dress in hand, she looked up from her washing. “How is she? She has done so much for me!"