Book 6, Chapter 16: Sunset Trip
A golden half sun sinking on the horizon to my left, yellow and light blue close in, darker and darker hues in front of me, and to my right, shades of grey. We were cresting a hill, then downward into forest and shadows. Something tall, a strangely square hill or perhaps a castle overtaken by plants, loomed over the canopy midway across.
My horse was glistening with sweat. We’d ridden hard, and our horses need a break. I shifted positions, patted my horse on the neck, saying, “Sorry, old girl. Hang in there.”
She snorted in return.
As we’d mostly ridden single file, conversation had been sparse, and I’d been left to my thoughts. Wondering who the mage was, why he was their captive. Wondering how my own kingdom faired, how our army was, what Morry would do when he discovered the battle and the newly dug mass grave. Maybe graves now, if the evil nun’s army bothered to bury the slain soldiers. I hoped and hoped Morry wouldn’t set out after us or the other army, but I feared he would. He’d search the world for me.
Yet if he had some sense, he’d return to Brundle with the news. Then bring an army. Only last time I was a prisoner, he tried to rescue me himself, against an army of mages. That didn’t work out for him, maybe he learned from it. Sigh. Morry! Damn.
And I berated myself for not leaving some kind of sign. How could I, though? Leave my jewelry with a note, hoping he’d chance upon it?
Maybe he wouldn’t follow. He didn’t know I was no longer a deity. If he assumed I was, he’d think I was safe. The thought brought me sadness, though. Despite that being the better outcome, such a realization would send him home. The nuns knew Morry and would not hesitate to capture him, even torture him, to find me.
Maybe I should ride back. But I had to trust him, my second general, the man I made duke to rule my lands in case I fell to the mages. Maybe he thought I was returning, and he’d merely missed finding me, so would himself return. He would, I told myself, he would ride back.
I wanted to scream! I was so helpless now!
To escape these thoughts, I played music in my head. First, Mozart, on the harpsicord. And wondered how I’d re-invent the device. Bach on the piano and later, Liszt’s orchestra pieces in my head, then his technically impossible piano pieces that clever pianists subsequently reconfigured to play. When you are in a foreign land and haven’t heard your familiar music, all kinds of songs come back to you.
How did I know these, still? I didn’t remember my time in Valhalla. How did I know how to fight? I hadn’t trained this body. I must have created it with the training built in. You’d think, being a god, these particulars would all be known and knowable. And maybe they were, to a god.
All these thoughts, some pleasant, some unwelcome, passed through me as the sun slowly settled in the sky, falling off in the west somewhere, leaving shifting darkness between the trees, and a slight chill in the air.
A horse caught up to me, and the captain’s voice carried in the twilight, “We’ll ride until halfway through this valley. Not long now. There’re ruins where we will camp.”
“Ruins?”
“Said to be haunted, though I don’t believe it myself. They’re the best place to hide a fire, behind the walls.”
“Ah.”
“We had to take this course, Lady Sarah. We must keep the wizard safe and out of their hands.”
“Who are the attacking army? Why didn’t they parley first?”
“I don’t know. From a kingdom further east, across the plains perhaps.”
“You don’t find it strange at all? How’d they know you were there? Why are you so sure they’d come for the mage if you don’t even know who they are?” And why was I pointing these errors out to him? Better he didn’t overthink things.
“I recognize the women with them, their garb. Their order has a temple tens of miles west and north of here. They cultivate and protect magic. They would know the moment our mages fell. And they would know that one yet remains.”
“How do they know such things?”
“How is it you fight so well? Even a man twice your age, trained all his life, would be hard pressed to do what Cresida saw you do. And you yourself admitted to.”
“You’ll tell me if I tell you?” In truth, I already knew the answer but needed him to trust me for a little bit longer. The nuns knew the mages had fallen because it was their temple that supplied the mortals magic. Magic they stole from the gods trapped within. When I was inside the Trap, I felt the pain of their theft. But they couldn’t know that the mages had actually succeeded in stealing my divinity, for the man who did had left this world for another. I made sure of it.
“Alright.” He looked ahead. “Their temple is what enables mages to wield magic. I don’t fully understand how, but it involves capturing the kind of creature that killed our mages back there.”
“Forgive me, but that makes their deaths somewhat ironic.”
He scowled, fist tightening on the reins, “I believe I’ve answered your question.”
“Not to the best of your ability, but I’ll indulge you, regardless. I was at the temple when Grand Magister Tye brought the creature, as you called her, there.”
His head turned sharply to me, “What?”
“I came here to kill it. But I failed and it killed the mages instead.”
“You work for . . . the Mages’ Conclave?”
He seemed to be believing me, but I felt mildly stupid. No idea why, dishonesty just made me feel so. As if anyone could see through my claims as plainly as through sheer cloth, and they’d soon have a good laugh about the attempt. I needed to end the discussion, “That’s all you’re getting out of me, Captain.”
“I still don’t see how you could have the training to be so skilled at combat at your age.”
“You really don’t know what happened at that temple?”
“I was here, ensuring the safety of our lands.”
I did not say, ‘And how’d that work out?’ but kept my mouth shut instead. “Uhm. It reverses aging, the temple, when, ah, one of those creatures is in it.”
“That’s not possible.”
“It is. I am much older than this child you see before you. I guess I’ve been granted a second chance at life.”
“Then, you are no lady, and you were not traveling to your father’s lands. What’s your real name?”
“Sarah’s fine.”
“Did the priestesses come here for the creature, then? Control over age . . . nothing would be more valuable than that.”
“You’re not so dumb after all, Captain.” In the fading light, the horses’ hooves sounded louder, clomping along, even on soft grass, “We didn’t stay to ask them, and I think we really should have.”
“Did you watch the mages fall in battle?”
“Yes.”
“And what of the creature? Did it survive?”
We began our descent down the hill, and I took a last look at the darkening sky, clouds dispersed across it, hiding the first stars. Tree trunks and branches having already grown dark, the greens of leaves and pine needles darkening further, the spaces in between became gloomy, unseeable mysteries. What lurked in these dark passages? Looking away, I said, “I don’t know. It seemed to . . . disappear.”
“It would make a much more valuable target than our mage. But if they’re after the creature, why’d they attack our army?”
“If they know your mage is the last, he’s a prize worth capturing. I’m not sure their army would be a bother to the being that killed . . . our mages.”
“And where did Grand Magister Tye go? His body was nowhere to be found.”
“Left with the being. Up into the sky.”
“Why are you only telling me this now?”
“It’s only now that I was revealed. Because I was saving your wife, Captain.”
“I am grateful for that. And by bringing you along, I have returned the favor.”
“And expect many more?” I hadn’t forgotten that he wanted me to sleep in his bed.
“If we’re attacked, I’m sure you’ll help defend us.”
“Why is the mage locked in perseidian iron?”
“We’ll be making camp in two hours, best hurry.” And with that, he tapped his horse with his heels, spurring on just a little faster, riding ahead and ending our conversation.
My horse snorted again. Probably she doesn’t like him either. As we entered the forest, the way became darker and darker, dusk turning into night, the canopy overhead cutting off the sky. Someone up ahead lit a lantern, glowing yellow and casting ever changing shadows of its own, and we followed it, more or less straight, until coming to the ruins.
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