Grace of the Light Read online

  He was in a tower behind the Field of Flags.

  He lay there staring at the ceiling. Why? Who had brought him here?

  The day wore on. His thoughts were like dogs, snapping, baiting him. Daylight weakened, afternoon shadows crept across the floor. He dozed, then picked at the scabs on his knuckles. His stomach rumbled, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. He had no idea how long he’d been held captive.

  Finally, he heard footsteps in the corridor outside followed by keys jangling and the clink of a chain. In an instant he was at the door. The hatch at the foot of the door opened, a tray of food was pushed through, a lump of cheese, some bread, grapes and a jug of wine.

  “Hey! Where am I? Who’s keeping me here? What’s going on?”

  Tuath banged on the door. No answer came, the footsteps receded. He fell to his knees and devoured the food, it tasted good, his spirits lifted. Well, at least he was above ground. He shuddered remembering the week he had spent in gaol before being picked by Fightmaster Dreel as his fight champion. The screams from the gaol’s torture rooms were branded on his soul. Poor bastards, death was better than the torturers’ blades and hellfire.

  He was lucky to get out of there in one piece. He’d spent more than a year on the road after the destruction of his village. Then he had come to the Imperial City, Dej. His first experience in Dej was of violence, he was good at violence. Fighting contests followed, leading to acceptance, as long as he kept winning, providing entertainment.

  Tuath wondered if Dreel was searching for him. Maybe he thought his prize fighter had skipped town? Tuath was a free citizen and didn’t owe Dreel anything, there was always more fighting flesh to be found in gaol or the slave markets. Life went on, Tuath was expendable.

  Night came, his mind declared a truce with his body, he drifted into an uneasy sleep. He dreamt of the Simulacrum, they were coming for him, they never left survivors. He ran through his dream, hunted, hated. His lungs were bursting, he reached the cliff edge, as he had countless times before and looked back. The Simulacrum warriors were behind on horseback racing up the hill, their spears and swords ready, their war dogs baying.

  He felt the fear, adrenaline coursed through him. Fight or flee? In some dreams he ran, in some he fought, in others he froze, it always ended badly. Tonight he jumped from the cliff feeling the wind on his sweat soaked body. The ground raced to meet him two hundred feet below. He woke with the impact, a scream leaving his lips, his body shaking.

  “Perhaps I have chosen unwisely.”

  A woman’s voice came from the corner of the room.

  “They told me you were the best fighter in the city. Twenty one kills. Impressive. But I see you’re damaged, you have your demons… like us all I suppose.”

  Tuath swung himself out of the bed and stood, still shaking, sweat glistening on his forehead. He tried to make out her face but without success, she wore a hooded cloak and a full veil. The scent of rosewater reached him. A highborn? A priestess?

  “What do you want of me, my Lady? Why are you holding me here?”

  “I would’ve thought that was obvious. You disappoint me. Let me spell it out; you have certain… qualities. You’re a survivor; Dreel tells me you stayed alive for over a year in Simulacrum territory before you made it to the city.”

  So… Dreel had turned him in. Bastard.

  “Dreel knows his fighters, he sings your praises.”

  Tuath thought furiously. “So, I survived in Simulacrum lands, what of it?”

  The woman took a step towards him. “That makes you special… valuable. I want to find the Simulacrum, deliver a message. I want you to deliver that message.”

  Tuath laughed. “The only good Simulacrum is a dead Simulacrum. What makes you think I’d be interested in delivering your message?”

  “I know what happened to your village. I see the pain you carry in your heart. I know a necromancer who can place you back there, back to the night your village was attacked. You can die honourably defending your clan. You can be with your family once more, on the otherside. The choice is yours.”

  “You still haven’t answered my question. Who are you?” Tuath said.

  “Bright Feather, Watcher of the Realm.”

  Tuath stood in silence. He took a step towards the woman, his mind racing. He had never heard of her, she was obviously highborn, connected. Maybe she did know someone in the Mage School, a necromancer. A chance to die alongside his kin in battle? He had heard of necromancers who could bend time, but they were supposed to live in the outer east. Questions assailed him. Then he saw his wife’s face, Serena and his children, Kala and young Conall. What had he to lose?

  “If your words are true I’m interested. What is the message you want delivered?”

  “I hope you’ll repay the trust I’m placing in you. I want you to return to Simulacrum territory and deliver this message. I wish to form an alliance with them. I want to bury the enmity that has separated our peoples for generations. A new threat has risen, one that is stronger than them… than us. We may stand a chance if our forces unite.”

  “Bright Feather.” Tuath said her name out loud, testing it. “What will the king think of this?”

  “He doesn’t know. He knows I protect the Realm. I always have and always will, the realm is my reason to breathe. It is my king.”

  “Are you saying your loyalty is not to the king?” Tuath asked.

  “My loyalty is to the realm,” Bright Feather replied.

  “And what is this new threat to the realm?”

  Bright Feather took a breath and stepped forwards. He could reach out and snap her neck if he wanted. He waited, she pulled her hood down. Blond hair cascaded around her shoulders and down her back. Her veil was a simple affair, black with gold thread, a narrow slit left for her piercing green eyes.

  “The threat is annihilation,” she replied.

  Chapter 5

  Searching

  Ash leant forward and touched Raine’s face.

  “Why did you leave us mother? I miss you… Marianne misses you too.”

  Raine stared at her dead son, she knew she was dreaming, but it felt so real. She reached to her face feeling the tears there, she tasted their salt, she felt the pain of living. The dream pulled her down, seductive in its certainty, dangerous in its message. Part of her wanted to give up and sink into the mire, another part wanted to pull free… fight. Find those responsible and kill them.

  Bastards, murderers. They killed my children and my Severin.

  She pulled her arms and legs free from the dreamscape, waking with a start. The fire had died, the night was cold but she was drenched in sweat. Tormented when awake, tormented when asleep. She looked out from under the rock ledge and saw the sky alive with stars.

  Well, if she could not sleep she would walk.

  Raine emerged from under the ledge and stood, listening. Nothing out of the ordinary, she remembered the strange creature that had killed the Simulacrum warrior, she shivered. The stars would be her guide, up and over the Jacta Arx Mountains, onward to Si an Bhru to find the Twist… whatever that was.

  The voice that plagued her had been silent since leaving Farne but its words returned to her.

  Bad things happen when we’re together. We’ll be cold in the fire… find them, seek the answer at Si an Bhru. Find the Twist, wear it to face the enemy.

  The voice, her constant companion, had left her. She shook her head, donned her gear and started walking west. Her footsteps were her companion, their rhythm mesmerized her, she withdrew inwards.

  Back in the clearing, across from the remains of Raine’s camp a tree stirred. The sapling’s leaves rustled, its bark blistered, the air became hazy. The sapling’s roots sprung from the soil, the tree’s shape expanded, filling out, changing shape. The air cleared and the half woman half beast stood quivering where the sapling had been. With a shake of its head it dropped on all fours sniffing the ground, it left the clearing following Raine’s scent. It had wo
rk to do for its mistress, for Ashtoreth, to follow Raine and find the Twist. This human would be useful, she would take Old Nix across the cold mountains straight to Si an Bhru.

  Raine watched as the sun rose, bringing with it the hope of a new day. Except she had no hope only pain, but pain enough to drive her forward. The terrain became rougher as she neared the mountains. She passed through a lightly forested area, the morning light playing with the colours of the leaves. She could feel the Erthe’s presence all around her, the force of nature, of Falinor and the Mother.

  Crack.

  A twig snapped behind her, she swung round, hands on her rapiers. Her eyes scanned the forest. A breeze rustled the branches, her heart was pounding. She took a step back and felt the ground give way, she looked down too late, she fell into the trap. She landed heavily, pain exploding in her side. Her vision blurred, blackness descended.

  A figure stepped out from a thick tangle of undergrowth.

  “Well we didn’t expect that, did we Kit?” The man was small, burly and bearded, a dog by his side. He strode over to the pit and looked down on the crumpled figure.

  “A sorry looking woman has just spoiled my trap, Kit. Well that’s a disappointment that is, we’ll have to get her out, away from here. We don’t eat travellers, do we Kit?” The dog looked at the man tilting its head.

  The man took a length of rope from his pack, he secured one end to a tree and threw the rest into the pit. He squatted beside the edge and hesitated, the stranger was heavily armed, she might not take kindly to her situation, might take it out on him. He decided to take his time and wait for her to regain consciousness. He pulled the rope back up.

  He sat down and took a small pouch from his bag. He pulled out a pipe and a small jar of tobacco and proceeded to fill the pipe. He lit it with a flourish using a tinder bud from the same pouch. The dog sat down beside him, closed its eyes and waited.

  Raine smelt tobacco, her eyes fluttered open. She saw the side of the pit and remembered her fall, her side throbbed dully. She moved carefully checking all limbs, she was relieved to find nothing broken. She looked up and saw two legs dangling above her.

  “At last! You’re back with us. Are you sound? The name’s Jax, Jax Flint. This here’s my dog, Kit. You’ve landed in one of my deer traps, sorry about that. We don’t get many visitors in these parts. I can help you out. I just wanted to make sure you understood it was an accident first.”

  Raine sat up and looked at the man. She nodded. “My side hurts, I think I’m ok. Just get me out of here.”

  “Right then, but no funny business. Kit here has a mean set of teeth when he puts his mind to it.”

  Raine nodded, a pained expression on her face. Jax disappeared for a moment and returned with a length of rope in his hand. “Watch out, rope coming down.” He threw the rope to Raine. She tested it and started climbing. The pit was deep, it took all her remaining strength to pull herself up. Jax reached in and helped her over the edge onto the forest floor, she lay there panting, her hand went to her side.

  “Falinor’s breath, that hurts like hell!” Raine exclaimed.

  She looked down and was alarmed to see blood seeping through her shirt. “Goddamn, worse than I thought.” Carefully she pealed back the material to reveal a short but deep gash in her side. “Not good, landed on my sword hilt, damn it!”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll fix that.” Jax nodded. “You’ll come with me back to my home. We’ll patch you up.”

  “We?” Raine looked at him.

  Jax blinked then smiled. “Sorry, I mean I’ll fix you up. I’ve been alone so long, I think of Kit as a person.” He patted the dog’s head, Kit yawned, his tail wagging.

  What have I got myself into? Raine thought. Better make the most of it.

  “Right then, lead on, I’ll follow you. Hope your place isn’t too far, this hurts like a pig.”

  “We’ll be there in an hour, this way.” Jax nodded then turned, heading north.

  Raine gave him a dark look. This would test her, so be it, just a different form of pain. She gritted her teeth and followed Jax Flint and his dog.

  One mile behind the beast called Old Nix shook its head and froze. Blood, fresh human blood, female. There were no humans in these parts, it blinked, saliva dripping from its mouth, it was near to the woman, it was always easy to follow humans. It smiled, a rictus of teeth and slaver. Ashtoreth would be pleased. Old Nix would be rewarded.

  Forty minutes later Raine collapsed. Pain overwhelmed her and she passed out. Jax heard her fall and turned, concern etched on his face. Kit rushed to Raine and licked her face. Raine was shivering, her breath ragged.

  “It begins,” Jax muttered.

  He lifted Raine into his arms and carried her along the trail. A drop of blood fell from her side onto the forest floor, then another. Twenty minutes later Jax arrived at the rocky outcrop. He carried Raine through an opening in the rock and emerged into a large cavern. The ground was wet in places where water ingress had occurred, in one or two spots light spilled down from above. Further back the cave descended into a darker, drier place.

  Jax headed to a shadowy recess placing Raine on his bed. He lit a lamp, its low light illuminated the corner. He looked down at the young woman shaking his head.

  “Well Kit, she’s burning up. Death’s entered her blood. It’s going to be a long night. I hope she makes it. I feel responsible. What a mess. The knight’s bane will have its work cut out.” He peeled back Raine’s shirt inspecting her wound. The flesh was already discoloured. He frowned and went to retrieve the knight’s bane.

  Kit looked at Raine and sniffed at her wound, he circled her twice then lay down beside her, head between his paws. Raine was lost to the world, her fever took her to a dark place full of danger and loss. She wandered along an ash road, her mouth dry, her spirit incapable of tears. She felt her heart weaken in her chest.

  I am wasting my life. I am broken. What am I still doing here?

  The thought came unannounced, it was not her voice but another. She listened but only heard the drone of the wind along the desert floor. Her dream carried her along, crooked, disjointed.

  I am wasting my death, here in Si an Bhru. I need to be back in the fight. Raine you are the one, find me, cut me free, release me. I will bring them down. Trust no one…

  Raine looked down, her feet were passing through flames.

  You will not break me, you will not break us… come watch the fury…

  Jax pressed knight’s bane into Raine’s side, its crushed leaves oozing curative sap into her wound. The corruption hesitated then halted and began retreating. Death withdrew its claws from her body. Her fever broke. Raine slept a deep, dreamless sleep.

  She woke the next morning, her wound healed. Her side held a dull ache, but she could move, she could think and speak. She was hungry… she was alive. She looked round and saw the fire’s embers glowing. There was no sign of Jax but Kit was there, keeping her company, his deep brown eyes open, attentive.

  Raine sat up slowly, her head spinning. She let the sensation settle then swung her legs over the side of the bed. Her weapons were laid out beside her, this man had looked after her, cared for her. She had forgotten what it was like to care for someone, an empty feeling lay within. She stretched her arms and legs and realised she was thirsty… and hungry. She stood and went over to the fire to warm herself.

  Si an Bhru... she needed to get there. She needed to find the Twist, she had only come a small way and was already injured. What would the rest of the journey hold in store?

  Suddenly she felt small, alone. She looked at Kit who came to her putting his head against her leg.

  “If you could talk, you’d tell me to forget this journey wouldn’t you boy? What am I thinking? There’s no way I’m going to get over the Jacta Arx and find Si na Bhru, is there?”

  “Si na Bhru?” Jax’s voice echoed through the cave. “I was there once, a long time ago. What do you want there? You know it’s haunted? A barrow buil
t on sacred land, souls of the dead possess that place.”

  “Don’t creep up on me like that! It’s my business where I go.” Raine answered. How had she not heard him?

  He shrugged. “Glad to see you’re up. How’s the wound?”

  Raine winced, he had reminded her of the pain. She looked down at her stomach and saw the bloodstained shirt.

  “Let’s have a look,” Jax said.

  She nodded and went to the bed. She sat down peeling back her shirt. To her surprise she found only mild bruising and a faint scar where the gash had been. She looked at Jax.

  “What have you done?”

  Jax smiled. “Not me girl, thank the knight’s bane. Just as well, that was the last of it. It only flowers once every five years and I’ve scoured these parts for years. I’ve no more.”

  Raine considered his words and nodded. She was healed, her quest was still on. Falinor wanted her to continue. She sighed, her stomach made a forlorn sound.

  “Another good sign,” Jax said. “Let’s get some broth into you. Here, have a drink first.” He handed Raine a pitcher of water. Jax turned to the fire and made himself busy.

  A wave of fatigue swept over Raine, she lay down for a few minutes. She woke an hour later to a welcome smell; meat broth and fresh bread. Her stomach churned, she salivated.

  “Perfect timing,” Jax said.

  Raine managed a smile and went to join him. She sat in front of the fire letting its flames warm her. She took the food Jax offered and they ate in silence. The broth was good containing chunks of venison and vegetables, Raine savoured every mouthful. This man could cook. She looked at him and sipped her water.

  She wanted to ask questions. Who was he? Where was he from? But questions would invite questions, then her secrets would be his. No, she would stay silent. She would heal and move on with her impossible task.

  Jax seemed to sense her mood and remained quiet. Then he looked up and spoke, more to himself. “Where’s that fool dog? He’s usually first in line when there’s food on offer.”