Expiation (Shadeward Book 4) Page 3

  Two heavy trap doors were lifted out of the stone flooring. Crenech grabbed a torch and descended into the depths below via a ladder.

  ‘She gone,’ he called. ‘It’s safe.’

  Dimly lit by the torch Crenech could see dozens of barrels stacked in rows, alongside many racks holding bottles in ordered columns. As he stood there, figures emerged from the shadows. Women and girls, some dressed in smart attire, others in the garb of common folk and farm labourers.

  One woman approached him. He embraced her, hugging her close. It was his daughter.

  ‘How is everyone?’

  ‘Scared, bored, wondering if they’re going to be caught,’ his daughter answered. ‘Sitting in the dark is horrible.’

  Crenech nodded.

  ‘She’ll be back in five stretches, most likely sooner,’ Crenech replied.

  ‘How long can we keep doing this?’ his daughter asked. ‘Surely one stretch they will find us, and then …’

  ‘There is hope,’ Crenech said. ‘This stretch I learnt that they have failed to subdue some other land they have waged war upon. It appears they are in some distress. This is why they search so hard. I think they have been frustrated in their attempts to attack this other city.’

  ‘How can this be?’

  ‘It seems there are those that have the power to resist the priestesses,’ Crenech said. ‘If we can but contact them somehow …’

  ‘Scallia might be freed again,’ his daughter whispered. ‘Can it be true?’

  ‘I will be trying to find out more,’ Crenech replied. ‘But such information is hard to come by, and dangerous to seek.’

  ‘Be careful!’

  ‘We must all be careful.’

  * * *

  Gemma stumbled over the roots of a shade, losing her footing and falling to her knees in the soft loam. She stopped to catch her breath, looking about her in dismay. The forest seemed unending.

  She had no idea how long she’d been walking for, only that she was keeping Lacaille behind her and heading shadeward. Her stomach was growling; she hadn’t eaten since the priestess had rescued her and the pack of provisions had been lost in the flight from the second priestess. She didn’t have anything, not even a knife. She’d hoped to come across a few raw melps or tupes, but the shades were thick overhead, blotting out the light from Lacaille, the forest floor gloomy and bare.

  She got to her feet to take her bearings.

  She sniffed. There was a faint smell on the air she didn’t recognise, sweet yet sharp. Her stomach rumbled again in response. Whatever it was it smelled like food. Maybe a stash of sweetbuds? Some luck after all? She got a sense of which direction it was coming from, somewhere ahead, and set off.

  The smell grew stronger about her, she could feel her mouth beginning to water in anticipation. The shade canopy above seemed even thicker now, it was hard to tell which direction she should be heading, Lacaille’s light was blocked by the trunks, branches and cups above.

  The smell was thick now though, whatever it was couldn’t be far ahead. She stumbled into a small clearing, bereft of shades. She squinted in the gloom, seeing a vine hanging down before her. She moved closer, seeing a thick liquid dribbling down it.

  She reached out, running her hand against it, the sticky liquid dribbling over her finger tips. Definitely the source of the smell. She tasted the liquid, it was sharp but sugary, sticky and gloopy, like a syrup. She looked up, the vine hung down from the darkness above. She paused to look around, straining her senses in case anything was there.

  Nothing was moving or making a sound.

  She began scraping the syrup into her hands. It was a messy affair, but the syrup was good to eat, satisfying her hunger. It would keep her going for a while as she kept travelling, perhaps she might find more of the vines along the way.

  Her hands were coated in the stuff by the time she had scraped away what she could reach. As she was licking the last of it from her fingers she felt a stinging sensation in her ankle. She looked down, wondering whether she’d been bitten by something, only to see a thin silvery thread had wrapped itself around her.

  She stumbled back, trying to kick it off, but it held fast, elastic and stretchy. She tried to pull at it, but as she did so more tendrils appeared around her, almost invisible in the gloom, snaking their way around her arms and wrists.

  She yelled and pulled away, trying to back out of the clearing. She turned, running into a veil of tendrils that had appeared across her path, those too wrapped themselves around her arms and thighs with a faint stinging sensation.

  She fell, only to find herself suspended above the ground in the tendrils’ grasp. Screaming in horror she flailed, trying to break the thin tracery that had caught her, but she could get no purchase on the tendrils, they just stretched a little and returned to the same position.

  More of them spun out around her, binding her fingers together in a sticky mass of white, stopping her from tearing at them. She squirmed, helpless, feeling her body being hoisted up into the air.

  As she rose she was rolled over on to her back.

  She stared upwards.

  Something hung from the shades above her, a vague shape in the darkness above.

  A vast beaked bud, surrounded by a cascade of tendrils, was opening. She screamed, heedless of the noise she was making as she thrashed around, helpless in its grasp. The bud peeled back revealing a dark maw several hands wide. Liquid dripped out, splashing on to her. Some of it touched her clothing. She stared in terror as it started to smoke.

  It dripped on to her skin, burning her. Her screams rose another notch, shrieking out in hysteria.

  The silent shades about her did not react. Creatures foolish enough to wander into the grasp of a snare were a common enough occurrence in the depths of the forest. And the result was always the same.

  The snare would feast, slowly, yet surely.

  Then more tendrils descended, wrapping themselves about the struggling girl, soon she was enveloped in them, her screams muffled, the numbing anaesthetic stings slowing her movements.

  She was only jerking spasmodically now.

  Above, the snare prepared to feast upon its catch.

  * * *

  Lord Crenech had set runners to keep him informed as to the whereabouts and activities of the priestesses in Viresia. They came back at intervals through the stretch with news.

  Only three priestesses had been seen in the city. The others had been summoned away, perhaps due to the problems encountered elsewhere. Nothing new had been overheard as to what those problems were, but the priestesses seemed to be very agitated, exchanging short words with each other, uncomfortable with the situation.

  Crenech nodded to the latest one as he gave his report. He was a young man, but with a sensible manner about him. Joachim had become a trusted pair of eyes, ears and hands in the last round or so. He had come into Crenech’s service when his parents had been killed in the attack on Viresia.

  ‘Just three?’

  ‘Yes sire,’ Joachim replied. ‘The others left two stretches ago aboard their dachs and haven’t returned.’

  Crenech nodded. ‘You’ve done well. Send one of the others to Viresia upon the next stretch and tell them to keep their eyes and ears open for news.’

  Joachim nodded.

  ‘Is there something else?’ Joachim asked.

  Crenech grinned. ‘We’re taking a short trip sunward. I’m going to ride to the shadeward borders, to check on the outlying hamlets, see if there are any rumours from beyond our lands. We won’t be long, three stretches at most. Have a pair of hergs saddled and provisions made.’

  Joachim nodded and left.

  Crenech walked out on to the veranda once more, looking across his lands.

  The priestesses’ grip is unsure. If we could but learn of these folk that have somehow defied them! How has that been achieved? Some weapon the priestesses are scared of? Or perhaps other folks have found a way to counter their magic? If so, might we ally wit
h them and throw off the shackles imposed upon us by these women? How to reach them?

  The sunward edges of his lands bordered those of Drayden. A few traders came and went between the two. There was the possibility of some news. It was worth the trip. He leant on the balustrade for a spell, watching the comings and goings of his people.

  Joachim led two hergs out ready for the trip. Crenech could see his sword was buckled to the saddle of his, along with two pannier bags loaded with water and food. The young man stood waiting for him below.

  Crenech turned to see his daughter standing at the threshold of the veranda.

  ‘You ride out?’ she asked.

  He nodded.

  ‘I must find out more,’ he said. ‘If there is anything to be found.’

  She nodded.

  ‘Have faith,’ he said. ‘The priestesses are not as strong as they would have us believe. Something ails them, worries them, that works to our advantage.’

  ‘If they should find us …’

  ‘Keep to our plan,’ Crenech said. ‘They have not found you in the passes since the battle and they grow impatient and careless.’

  His daughter looked unconvinced.

  Can I blame her? Having to hide in the darkness for chimes at a time to avoid being found?

  He walked over to her, pulling her into a hug.

  ‘I know it is hard,’ he said. ‘But I would not run the risk of you being taken away to Drayden. We do not know what they do with those they take, but none ever return.’

  He felt his daughter shudder in his embrace.

  ‘No Father,’ she said. ‘You are right. We will follow the plan. Just … don’t be long!’

  He hugged her close.

  ‘I will be back as soon as I can. I’m taking Joachim, he’ll keep an eye on me,’ Crenech said with a chuckle. ‘The runners will continue to update us. Look after our folk. The priestesses are not due again for a few stretches. I will be back before then.’

  ‘Make sure you are.’

  ‘I love you,’ he said, stepping back and placing a kiss on her forehead.

  ‘And I, you.’

  He turned and walked away, signalling to Joachim. The younger man helped him up on to the herg. Crenech give her a brief wave as he set the beast to canter off sunwards, Joachim following behind.

  The road was easy for several chimes. It was well-travelled as the farmers that worked his lands were often moving their produce to and from his estates or onwards to Viresia itself. Beyond that the road led deeper into the shadeward forests.

  The weather was fair, Lacaille shining peaceably in the sky for now. Two of the terrifying flares had hit, but the second one had been less fierce than the first, and his people now knew what to do. Hiding within their homes was the best defence, ensuring nothing flammable was nearby, failing that, the shade forests were the next best thing as the shades themselves seemed to cope with the sudden bursts of light by extending their cups to shade the ground below, protecting their own trunks.

  Afterwards, the cups would shrivel and die within chimes, but new ones would grow within a couple of stretches and the shade forests would return to normal. The rotting husks of the old cups would be consumed by the creatures of the forest.

  Clearly the shades are ready for the flares …

  Other creatures seemed to know what to do too. The hergs retreated into the forests, as did the fellins and cainer. Marsips fled to their burrows. No one knew where the wild dachs flew away to, but they had been seen since, high up in the sky. Many people had seen the beasts’ third eyes, usually sightless, staring around as if measuring something. It seemed they all could tell when a flare was due and knew what had to be done.

  A stretch’s ride saw them to the forests close to the border. Ahead Crenech could see a familiar farmstead belonging to an old friend of his family, the land having been gifted by his ancestors long rounds ago. Smoke was rising from a hole in the roof of a ramshackle building, but as he rode up Crenech was surprised to find no one was home.

  Crenech and Joachim tied their hergs to a gate and walked inside, seeing a pot of stew bubbling away on a fire, with places set on a rough table for dinner, but there was no sign of anyone.

  ‘Where are they all?’ Joachim asked.

  Crenech came out, a frown creasing his forehead.

  Strange.

  Hergs were still in the fields about him, but were clustered away from the forest fringes, packed together in a herd. Everything seemed unusually still.

  Crenech walked to his herg, unbuckling his sword from the saddle and taking another look about him.

  ‘Come on,’ he muttered. ‘Something’s amiss here.’

  Joachim pulled his own sword from its scabbard and stood alongside him.

  They heard shouts and some kind of commotion from the forest ahead. Raised voices reached him alongside the sounds of trampling undergrowth. Crenech stepped forward and drew his sword.

  Brigands perhaps? If they have hurt any of my people they will live to regret it!

  But the figures that emerged from the forest were familiar. Crenech saw his old friend surrounded by his family, together they were carrying something between them, wrapped up in a bundle, struggling with its weight. He squinted, it looked like a body.

  Sheathing his sword he ran forwards, the family seeing him and then recognising him. Joachim followed close behind

  ‘My Lord Crenech!’ the lead man said.

  ‘Fareth!’ Crenech replied. ‘I came unannounced, my apologies! What has happened?’

  ‘Someone caught in a snare,’ he said, gesturing to the body. Crenech could see it was wrapped in linen. ‘We heard the screams and cut them down. Likely too late …’

  ‘Get them to the house then,’ Crenech said. ‘I have some medicines with me, let’s see what can be done.’

  Crenech and Joachim pitched in with carrying the body. It wasn’t heavy, whoever the person was they were small and lightweight. Within the house, space was made and the body lowered to the ground.

  The linen was unwrapped to reveal a body swathed in the fine silky wrappings of the snare.

  ‘What were they thinking getting close to such a thing?’ Fareth asked. ‘Travellers know to avoid them …’

  ‘Frequent travellers, yes,’ Crenech said, pulling a knife from his belt and cutting at the tendril coils. ‘Did you find anyone else? Anything with them?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Fareth said. ‘We just heard screams and went running. They were alone, no pack, no provisions, nothing.’

  ‘Strange indeed.’

  Crenech’s knife cut through the sticky material and the family helped pull it away. A face was revealed, a young woman with pale skin and blonde hair.

  ‘A girl …’ Joachim said. ‘She looks familiar. I’m sure I’ve seen her before.’

  Fareth bent his ear to her mouth.

  ‘She’s breathing,’ he announced.

  Crenech used his knife to cut down the side of her body and the family continued to pull at the tendrils until they were all removed. The girl’s body was battered and bruised, with a nasty burn across her midriff.

  ‘Get that cleaned,’ Fareth instructed. ‘Snare venom for sure. Make up the fire too!’

  Her clothing was tattered, a simple grey smock, ripped and torn in places and coated in the tendrils of the snare. She was skinny too, as if she’d gone without food for too long.

  Before long her wounds were cleaned and dressed with fresh linen.

  ‘I’d say you got to her just in time,’ Crenech said.

  Fareth nodded. ‘Half a spell more and the snare would have eaten her.’

  Crenech noticed something and bent forward to look closer. He picked up the girl’s limp wrist and turned it over, examining her palm and fingers.

  ‘Interesting,’ he said. ‘Not a farm worker I would guess.’

  ‘Yeah, skin’s too soft, a maid? She’s definitely not worked outside, that’s for sure.’

  ‘She’s a waif of a thing,’ Cr
enech said. ‘I’d say she’d never scrubbed a floor or carried a pail in her life. Look at her skin, other than the bruises it’s all smooth, her fingers are soft, fingernails neat. Not the type to go wandering in the wilderness.’

  ‘So what was she doing out there?’ Fareth asked. ‘And on her own?’

  Crenech looked at Joachim. ‘You think you’ve seen her before?’

  Joachim frowned. ‘I don’t know her, but I’d swear I’ve seen her in Viresia at some point. I can’t place her though.’

  The girl stirred, her eyes blinking open, dark and wide with fear. She panicked for a moment, a scream dying in her throat as she looked at the people clustered around her.

  ‘It’s alright,’ Crenech said. ‘You’re safe from the snare.’

  The girl looked at him, her breath coming in short gasps.

  ‘It caught me …’

  Crenech nodded. ‘Nasty things,’ he said. ‘You were lucky to be found by these good folk.’ He gestured at Fareth and his family. He saw her look around at them and then swallow.

  ‘Thank you,’ she managed. Her voice was soft, her accent refined. It was familiar enough too, she couldn’t have come from far. Her pronunciation was Scallian.

  A girl of breeding? Why was she out there alone?

  ‘What’s your name, child?’ Crenech asked. ‘And what happened to you?’

  He saw her tense and swallow again.

  ‘Please,’ she said. ‘Tell me where I am? This is not Drayden is it?’

  ‘Drayden?’ Crenech asked. ‘Nay, lass! You’re in my lands now. This is Scallia.’

  The girl relaxed, her eyes closing with a deep sigh. Then she was crying.

  Crenech looked at Fareth, who shrugged. He took the girl’s hand.

  ‘What happened to you?’ he asked, trying to make his voice sound as gentle as possible.

  ‘I escaped,’ the girl managed to say.

  ‘Escaped?’ Joachim asked. ‘From where?’

  The girl made an effort to stop her sobs, sitting up and wiping at her eyes. After a few deep shuddering breaths she looked up at Crenech.

  ‘From Drayden,’ she said, her eyes wide and dark. ‘From the priestesses!’

  Then she fainted.