by Katharina Gerlach
in Issue 89, June 2019
Katlani sharpened her dagger until it cut a hair that fell on the blade. Forcing herself to ignore the pain that came with using magic, she wove a spell and wrapped it around the blade to keep it this sharp until she had done what needed to be done.
“Naranii bless my plan,” she whispered, cut a strand of her black hair with the dagger and threw it on the coals in the hearth as an oblation to her childhood goddess. It went up in flames and fanned her burning hatred. Although she no longer believed in Naranii’s justice, she was satisfied with the short ceremony. She sheathed the dagger and laid it between the clean linen she had to deliver to the king’s castle. It had taken her three months of cleaning the royal tablecloths to gain the guards’ trust – three months without her beloved Beltar. He’d been arrested for treason and sorcery in her stead because she had taught Naranii’s acolytes, a bunch of giggling teenagers, basic fighting skills.
Dressed in her tight black combat clothes hidden beneath a colorful coat, she grabbed the basket. The sun was already setting, painting the sky over the clearing with her house purple when she set out for the capital. The wood’s peace did nothing to alleviate her anger. It raged hot and painful through her veins for the length of her walk to the city.
Expecting empty cobblestone streets lined by timber-frame houses, she was surprised to find people huddled into small groups murmuring angrily. Just a week ago, the whole town had celebrated the choosing of Naranii’s new High Priestess as best they could. Now whispered conversations, fists balled in the shadows, and defiant glares filled the streets, mirroring the rage inside of Katlani. Even the guards patrolling the streets, usually enough to frighten the citizen until they hid in their houses, seemed to be aware of the change in mood. They no longer patrolled alone.
Katlani forced herself to keep up her fake smile as she walked through the streets toward the king’s castle. Everywhere little things weren’t as they should be – the smith was still at work sharpening scythes and sickles, people hid in corners whispering to each other or praying to Naranii, angry glances at the patrolling soldiers. Whatever the king had done now had set the city on edge.
“How much longer …”, someone said to a small crowd in a dark side street.
“… takes them younger every day.” Another one whispered to a group of people and pointed to the castle.
“May he feel Naranii’s wrath tonight!” One woman said loud enough to draw a guard’s attention, but instead of covering when he looked at her, she glared at him and continued. “The poor child did nothing to deserve this.”
Katlani’s hands grew cold. Something nasty must have happened, something bad enough to irritate the masses. Had it been bad enough to jeopardize her plan? She walked faster, until a bend in the road brought her face to face with the castle’s gate. On the wall beside it hung the body of a girl she knew, Naranii’s newly chosen High Priestess. She was less than fifteen summers, dressed in a white night shirt with her unbraided hair flapping in the wind, hiding the rope around her neck. Her sightless eyes were already gone, stolen away by the castle’s ravens no doubt. A knot of ice formed in Katlani’s stomach, encasing the burning anger. She had known that child, had taught her how to defend herself. Had the king really taken Naranii’s High Priestess into his bed last night and murdered her? Now the city’s unrest made sense, and Katalani’s worry grew exponentially. This could be the last straw. How could she get to the king if he raised his security to cope with the city’s unspoken threat?
However, she couldn’t quit now. She walked on, toward the guards but her gaze clung to the dead child. Jeventer manned the entrance, and she nodded and smiled as best she could. He must have noticed how fake her smile was, because he bent slightly forward and whispered.
“She took her own life before …” His voice trailed off.
“Thank you for telling me.” Katlani held out her basket. Her mind was still reeling from the events, she wasn’t half as nervous about her hidden knife as she had feared.
“If only Naranii could do more than advise her acolytes.” Jeventer stared at her basket. All of last week he had let her in without searching the linen, so her heart beat faster at his stare. But he seemed lost in thought. “What good is a goddess who doesn’t do anything?”
“A goddess who could affect us directly might be even worse than the you-know-who,” Katlani pointed out. Jeventer nodded clearly biting back tears. At the wave of his hand, she walked on, breathing in and out consciously to slow her racing heart. The flirting she’d done over the last few months paid off, and the added tension helped too.
Once she’d dropped the linen in the kitchen and retrieved her knife, she slipped up the servant’s stairs to the upper story where the king lived. She knew exactly where the royal chambers were if not which one the king slept in. As she hurried through badly lit corridors, she heard the usual nightly celebrations from the main hall below. She’d have to be patient to kill her prey. On tiptoes she neared the top of the stairs that led up from the banqueting hall to the king’s rooms and unsheathed her dagger. Time to find the right room. Just as she put her hand on the handle of the first door, voices drifted up from the stairs and the blooming brightness of a lantern approached from below.
“No wonder he’s still afraid of the dark”, a male voice said.
Katlani opened the door and slipped into the room beyond as fast as she could. The door clicked shut, but she still heard the man with the lantern on the other side. It was followed by the swishing of cloth on cloth somewhere inside the room.
“Are you a monster?” The voice of a small child came from close to the window.
Katlani didn’t answer and hoped the child would take her for a dream; it sounded young enough. Holding her breath, she pressed flat against the wall where the door would hide her should the servant come in to investigate. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm.
“Did you hear that?” The voice of the servant carried through the door. It swung half open and light flooded the room. The illuminated space was bare except for a few toys strewn over the floor and a small bed beside the window. A chubby boy sat up, blinking at the light.
“Who are you talking to?” the servant asked.
“To you.” The boy’s smile was sweet enough to melt a goddess’ heart, as the saying went.
“I meant a minute ago.”
“To the lady in black. But she hasn’t told me yet if she’s a monster.” If possible, the boy’s smile grew even wider. It seemed the prospect of seeing a monster excited him. “Did you ever fight a monster, Julip?”
“You know magic does not exist. Neither do magical creatures like monsters or ogres or the like.” The servant chuckled. “You’d better get to sleep now, or your father will be very angry. He’ll be here any minute.”
The boy in the bed whimpered, lay flat on his back, and pulled the covers higher. He was breathing fast and shallow as if seized by fear. Katlani couldn’t blame him.
When the door closed again, Katlani sighed with relief. Naranii be praised, she thought.
The child sat up again, a dark silhouette against the window. “Who are you? I am Dainat.”
The prince? Sweat started to form on Katlani’s brow. If he was the prince, the father whose coming the servant had announced, was the king. She couldn’t kill the king in front of a child. She had to find the king’s bedchamber and wait for him there. Just as she reached for the door handle, the dead priestess appeared beside her out of the blue with her eyes restored and blue as a summer day’s sky. She was surrounded by a soothing green light that reminded Katlani of the forest in spring, and her white robe billowed in a wind Katlani didn’t feel. The boy stared at her with awe.
Katlani squinted. Could it be the goddess herself? Were her childhood beliefs true? Had she come to mete out justice?
“Take the boy to safety,” Naranii ordered. “Hurry, they are already on the way.” She pointed to the window. Torches bobbed up and down, carried by an eerily silent mob of citizen toward the castle, illuminating countless makeshift weapons.
“I came to kill the king, not to steal his son.” Katlani wanted justice for Beltar–a life for a life.
The ghostlike goddess shook her head. “That is no longer your duty. They will take care of him. You must save the prince.”
“But why?” Katlani’s gaze traveled to the child in the bed. “Why are you saving him? Where were you when they executed Beltar?” The pain in Katlani’s chest burned so hot, she forgot to whisper. “The king killed so many children. He raped women and executed husbands for false accusations like my Beltar. It would only be fair if the king lost his heir.”
“The child is not responsible for his father’s actions.” The goddess faded. “Now go. I will be watching over you.”
Biting her lip, Katlani sheathed her dagger and slipped it into her belt before she walked to the bed and lifted Prince Dainat out of the bed. She dressed him in the clothes that were lying around without further ado. The angry fire in her chest demanded his death, but she decided that it didn’t pay to anger a goddess.
“Where are we going?” The boy couldn’t be older than three or four summers. “If Father finds out, he’ll kill my pony. Or my dog.”
“Don’t talk, and he won’t find us.” Torn between sympathy for the boy and the feeling that she was her own worst enemy, Katlani put her finger over his lips. When he nodded wide eyed, she walked to the door and peeked out. No one in sight, but the noise downstairs had changed to screaming, howling and clattering. Had the mob already overrun the ground floor? Katlani grabbed the boy’s hand and pulled him along the corridor she had come through on her way up. Dainat did his best to keep up with her long strides. For a long time Katlani managed to evade running guards, but in a ground floor corridor they finally ran out of luck. The sound of marching boots approached from behind and screaming people were running toward them. There was no place to hide.
With a sigh, Katlani picked up the boy, stood as close to the wall as she could, closed her eyes, and remembered Beltar’s ceaseless teaching. Carefully building up pressure she used the tiny flame of anger as fuel for her spell and pushed it outward. She didn’t have much magic, but maybe it would be enough to make people ignore their presence.
A mob armed with pitchforks, torches, and scythes turned the corner and ran screaming past them toward the sound of marching boots. Not a single person took notice of her or the prince. The two groups met a little farther down the corridor with a loud crash.
Katlani carried Dainat away from the noise of battle although she swayed under the strain of keeping up the spell. Her leg muscles began to twitch, when a small hand slipped into hers. Warmth shot through her, easing the cramp and filling her spell. It reminded her of the sunlight in spring, and she sighed with relief. As promised, Naranii was helping her.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said to the boy, but he hung limp in her arms. Surely he had fainted when the mob rushed past them. Since he was breathing normally, she reinforced her spell as best as she could, ran along the last few corridors, crossed the kitchen, and entered the courtyard. It was packed with guards and citizens fighting for their lives. Blood stained the sandy ground. Hurriedly, Katlani pulled Dainat’s face into her shoulder.
“Don’t look”, she whispered into his ear and felt him nod weakly in response. If they could make it through the gate, she’d be able to get him to safety. She began sidling along the wall to evade the fighting people. After only a few steps, the door of the dungeon tower burst open, and people in various stages of starvation shambled out. Several people in the fighting crowd noticed, screamed with anger and fought with renewed strength. Only a few called out with joy when they recognized loved ones. Katlani’s gaze stopped at a pale skinned, clearly foreign woman. Her dress barely covered the essentials, and her knee-long hair was tangled and grimy. She was helping or being helped by an equally pale skinned man with matted hair and shredded clothes.
“Beltar!” At first Katlani whispered, then she screamed the name. The man’s head shot up, and he scanned the crowd.
Of course. He doesn’t know where I am, so he can’t see me. Katlani longed to end her spell of deflection but that’d endanger the mission she got from the goddess. Tears welled up in her eyes and she pressed Dainat closer involuntarily. Beltar looked so worn, he wouldn’t make it to the gate through the throng. She had to think of something else. Hurriedly, she squeezed past the fighting people, stumbled over bodies, slipped on bloodied mud, and fought her nausea, but she never let go of her charge. When she reached her husband, she laid her hand on his free arm gently, her earth colored skin an even bigger contrast to his paleness than usual, and ended her spell. Her stomach churned and she was close to vomiting from the strain, but she didn’t dare to set down the prince even though Dainat seemed to have recovered from the shock.
“Katlani.” Beltar’s brown eyes were warm and full of energy, even if his body had grown frail. “I should have known you’d come to save me.”
His praise renewed Katlani’s strength. “We need to get out of here.”
“There is a back door in the stables,” the woman at Beltar’s side said. “It leads to the garden which has a hidden exit in the back that the king doesn’t know of. A former queen had it built for one of her lovers.”
Katlani wondered how a bedraggled prisoner like her could know this, but Beltar seemed to trust her because he turned to the stable immediately. He lifted his hands with his palms up. Katlani could see the magic spilling down and spreading out. Like a bubble it enclosed her, Dainat, the woman, and Beltar.
“Come. I’ll shield us from harm for as long as I can.” Beltar took the first step and the circle he had created remained untouched by the chaos around them. It even pushed a couple of people aside bodily as the little group stumbled toward the stable. With pride Katlani noticed that they didn’t seem to notice. Beltar had always been superior in using magic, and she had been the better fighter. At the moment she was glad that no one else seemed to have a talent for magic or the fight surrounding them would have been even worse than it was. She held the the prince with more tenderness. He pressed his little face against her shoulder, and his breath warmed her skin.
“Can I look now?” he whispered.
“Soon. I’ll set you down in a minute.” Katlani was looking forward to that moment since Dainat proved to be heavier than she had expected.
The small door set into the big gate of the stable opened with a groan. Obviously it wasn’t used much. Inside, the stable was surprisingly well lit. The winged horses in their boxes stamped their feet. Katlani hoped none of the revolting citizen would decide to burn down the stable. It’d be a pity to lose those wonderful animals. As close together as their shrinking bubble demanded, the group hurried toward the back of the big building. There were no guards in sight, only a few stable boys huddled behind boxes of feed or in the straw of the hayloft.
Just as Katlani reached for the back door, their magic bubble popped, and Beltar collapsed. The woman at his side tumbled to the ground too with a yelp and a moan. Immediately, Katlani crouched beside the two, but she ignored the woman. It was Beltar who needed her help. He had used too much magic to keep them safe, so she put her hands around his face and let the rest of her magic trickle into him despite the pain this caused her. It might just be enough to get him back on his feet. When she knew she couldn’t give more without collapsing too, she scanned the area around them. A small cart with a low axle stood close to the door. It would be big enough for Beltar and maybe the woman too, but they needed a small horse or a donkey to pull it. Katlani scanned the boxes around them.
“I got a pony,” Dainat said as if he’d read her mind. “It’s there.” He pointed to one of the boxes. Katlani’s eyes lit up when she noticed that the necessary harness hung from a beam beside it.”
Katlani got up, tousled his hair, and turned wordlessly to fetch the animal. Three soldiers were running toward them silently with their swords drawn. The stable boys ducked even deeper into their hiding places. When the soldiers realized that they’d been spotted, they fanned out.
Katlani knew she had no chance against the three of them, but she still pulled her dagger. The men would have to get Dainat or Beltar over her dead body. She’d do her best to try to fulfill the goddess’ wish, and she had always been prepared to die for Beltar anyway. It was good to go down fighting. A tingle of magic played over her skin. With delight, she watched her dagger grow into a sword the same size as those of her opponents, evening the odds of the fight a little. Using the surprise of the men, she attacked and sliced right through the tendon on the first man’s right shoulder before he knew what hit him. It wasn’t a lethal wound but would make it impossible for him to ever wield a sword again. Howling, he dropped to the ground hugging his arm. One down, two to go. She danced around the leader’s back and drew blood on the second man. He roared angrily and caught her in a flurry of sword strokes. Katlani did her best to deflect them, but he was much stronger than her and every stroke jarred her arms. She felt them tiring.
Also, she was distracted by the leader of the group who had walked up to the unconscious Beltar, and the woman who stood in front of Dainat like a lioness ready to protect her cub.
“My, my, if that isn’t the prince,” the soldier said.
Katlani knew she had to attack him before he could snatch Dainat, but the soldier she fought with wore her down. Sweat burned in her eyes, her fingers trembled with the effort of holding her sword, and her legs felt as if weighed down. Still she managed to escape the soldier’s sword despite the limited room between the boxes. Whenever she could, she glanced at the group beside the pony-cart. No one moved. It was as if they were frozen in time. Was Naranii helping again?
Once more, Katlani felt the tingle of magic on her skin. New energy pulsed through her veins, and all of a sudden, the soldier looked small and puny. She grabbed him with her free hand and threw him to the stable’s front door as if he was a rag doll. With a grunt, she turned to the last soldier, and the seemingly frozen people came alive again. The woman readied her broken fingernails to attack the soldier’s eyes, and he lifted his sword to cut off her head. Why was he so much smaller than before? Katlani grabbed the tip of the blade, ripped it from his fingers, and threw it aside. With a thud, it hit a beam somewhere in the ceiling.
“Leave them alone!” Why was her voice so deep? It sounded like two millstones grating on each other.
The soldier shot round, his jaw dropped, his eyes widened, and his face paled. Just as Beltar coughed and sat up, the last soldier lost consciousness.
“Now, let’s get out of here.” Katlani pointed to the pony cart. “Get on. Now!” As fast as she could, she fetched the pony and its gear and harnessed it to the cart, struggling with her new size for only a moment. But she adjusted and bundled the woman and Dainat into the cart. When she helped Beltar climb in too, she noticed the awe in his gaze. Still, there was no time to ask him about it, because the soldiers seemed to be winning the fight in the courtyard. And they were frantic.
“Where’s the prince.”
“Find the prince!”
“… kidnapped?”
“Find him!”
As silently as she could, she opened the stable’s rear door and led the pony into the garden, wondering why everything looked so much smaller than she’d expected. The cart bumped along. Its shifty motion seemed to lull the young prince because he fell asleep in the woman’s arms even before they reached the door in the back wall of the garden. It was well hidden behind some bushes, but Katlani made short work of them. Their flight was more important that keeping the door a secret.
They left the tumult of the fight behind and walked through the city’s streets in silence. When they gained the open countryside, the woman spoke.
“Thank you for all you’ve done for me.” She nodded to Beltar and Katlani. “I am Nurimeh, the king’s consort and Dainat’s mother.”
“You’re the queen?” Beltar’s eyes grew wide. A sudden pang of fear cut through Katlani’s heart. Would he leave her now? How could she compete with a queen?
His voice sounded unbelieving and maybe a little wistful when he continued. “But we’ve been prisoners together.”
“The king never meant me to partake in the upbringing of our son. When I complained, he sent me to the dungeon to rot.” Nurimeh closed her eyes, but her fingers kept caressing the sleeping child. “I am queen no longer.”
They reached the forest and tracks on the road became scarce, so Katlani did her best to erase the traces the cart’s wheels left behind. Her heart pounded in her ears as she listened with one ear to the silence in the cart with the other for the road in case someone followed them. When they finally reached the clearing with her little house, she was relieved. No one had come to claim mother or child yet which meant that she had succeeded in doing what the goddess had asked for. At least for now. Also, she didn’t feel as big any more as when they’d left the stable.
She unhitched the pony and tied it to a pole beside the house with a long line so it could graze, when her gaze caught her reflection in the window. What the … why was her skin green? And why were her eyes slanted? What did her teeth think in showing up like the tusks of a wild boar? Oh, and her hair, her lovely, black hair was gone as if it had never existed. She wasn’t even shaped like a woman any more. No wonder Beltar was no longer interested in her.
With tears in her eyes, she helped Beltar into the house. Nurimeh followed her, carrying Dainat. She laid him on a fur covered bench and sat beside him. The candles on the table and the fire in the hearth flickered to life at a snip of Beltar’s fingers.
“I’m not strong enough yet to hide the clearing, but it suffices for this.” He smiled at her and traced a cut on her cheek with his finger. Magic tingled, and Katlani could feel the skin knit together.
“Stop that. You’re wearing yourself thin,” she scolded.
“I’m marveling at the strength of this spell,” he said. “It’s been hours and you still resemble an ogre, although your lovely hair is already coming back and the tusks are as good as gone. I wonder how much longer it’ll take to wear off completely.”
“The goddess doesn’t not do things by half.” She put a kettle on the fire. Beltar looked as if he could do with a strengthening broth and, she had to admit reluctantly, so could Nurimeh.
Beltar frowned. “The goddess?”
While Katlani searched for a dress that would fit Dainat’s mother, she told him of her encounter with Naranii.
“And you did what you were asked,” Beltar said. “I am so proud of you. The time in the dungeon seemed endless without you.”
“Why didn’t you leave?” Katlani cocked her head and threw him a come-hither look. “I thought the dungeon to hold you didn’t exist?”
“Ah, see that’s where I was wrong. The wardens had special shackles that chained not just me but my magic too.” Despite his weakness, he stood and pulled her into an embrace. He whispered into her hair. “You’re my heroine.”
Warmth flooded Katlani. Beltar still loved her. She lifted her face and they kissed. The tingle ran through her lips, down her throat and made her shiver with delight until Nurimeh cleared her throat.
“I think someone would like to have a word with you”, the former queen said.
Irritated, Katlani pulled away from Beltar and turned.
Solid like a normal person, Naranii stood beside the hearth in the body of her murdered High Priestess. “Well done, Blade of my Heart,” she said.
Katlani paled at the title. Did it mean what she thought it did?
“Yes.” The goddess did not smile. “Nurimeh has agreed to be my new High Priestess. Will you be her bodyguard?” Naranii turned to Beltar. “And I would like to enlist you as the prince’s tutor. It is essential that he learns that all of his actions have consequences.”
“I’d be honored.” Beltar put his left hand on his chest and bowed in the way of his people.
Naranii smiled, then turned back and looked at Katlani expectantly.
“I can’t serve you.” Katlani forced the words past her throat because deep in her heart, she longed to accept. “Technically speaking, I am a thief. I stole two prisoners and a child from the king. A criminal can never be the protector of your high priestess. Justice has to be spoken.”
“My justice is not that of the king.” Naranii twirled around. “You are not to blame since I charged you with the theft. Now, do you accept my proposal?”
Katlani decided not to point out that if the goddess hadn’t forced her to change her plan she’d be a murderess now. She just nodded. Naranii laughed with delight, and it sounded like countless chiming bells.
“Wonderful. You will have a great time, believe me.” Slowly she faded away. “By the way, the ogre resemblance Dainat spelled onto you will only last to the next sunset.”
Katlani’s jaw dropped. Dainat had cast the spell? She couldn’t believe it.
“Yup, he’s a strong magician.” Beltar said. “It’ll be quite a challenge to teach him, but I’m looking forward to that.”
Katlani’s face twitched. Obviously they were headed for interesting times. She couldn’t help but grin, and then the water kettle whistled and it was time to resume normal life, at least for now.
©June 2019 Katharina Gerlach
Katharina Gerlach is a bilingual writer from Germany who has written many stories. Many are published elsewhere but this is her first in Swords & Sorcery.