War of the Races Ch. 08

Chapter 08- The Shadows in the Mist

Dark, thick swirling mist settled over the Dragon's Spine in the early hours of the morning. Like a cold wet blanket it tempered the mood of the men with wariness, so unlike the spirited comradery just the night previous. Aalyn was not particularly religious or superstitious, but she had to admit, the mist made her nervous as well. If some of her more superstitious soldiers were to be believed, the mist was a twilight where the realms of the dead and the living converged and overlapped. Where shades of the dead and banshee's roamed the mist and carried off the living to either to keep as companions to quell the boredom of their ethereal existence, or to drag off and feed upon, or torcher and kill out of spite. She was surprised by the wide-eyed fear she saw in her men as they performed their duties, and even though surrounded by an army of well trained soldiers. She could see why the mist gave rise to such fears of the unknown, of the unseen, and how it inspired the imagination to fear what could possibly snatch someone away to disappear into those churning gray depths.

Coincidentally today she stationed herself exactly in the center of the marching line and kept a steady pace with her sisters beside her. This way she was able to receive messages and react quickly should there be an attack at the front or from the rear. All morning they marched in the stagnate silence of the forest that made the click-clack of armor and weapons jostling with every step sound like cymbals clashing in her ears.

Among the soldiers, no one spoke above a whisper, and when there was that one man or woman that talked or laughed too loud, either because they didn't sense the danger, or because of their nervousness, they were quickly shushed so that the voices of the living would not draw the attention of the dead as the march continued in a suffocating silence only diminished by the jarring sounds of tac that seemed to be swallowed up by the mist and the forest around them.

They reached the next ridge overlooking the next valley to be traversed, and came to stop for lunch. Everyone huddled together in small clusters and ate cheese and bread, jerked meat and drank water or mead as they hunched in on themselves and looked about furtively. The mist didn't burn off as the sun rose, but instead the soft white discus directly above at its zenith struggled to penetrate a fog that seemed to have only grown thicker making everything more than a few yards away nothing but murky shadows. Looking around for Thurdain, Aalyn found her sister talking quietly with one of her priestesses, and as she approached her sister glanced at her then sent the girl off at a run before she arrived.

"Is there a problem," Aalyn asked suspiciously. One could never be too suspicious of another Svartalf, especially priestesses. Even if she was a sister, and maybe even more so because of it. One of many ways to climb in rank within a family was assassination of an older sibling by the younger.

"No," Thurdain answered with a mild note of uncertainty in her voice, "At least I don't think so, not yet at least..."

"What has happened," She asked, her voice low in case anyone was actively trying to eavesdrop.

"One of my Initiates is missing," Thurdain whispered as she looked around the surrounding woods, anything to keep from making eye contact with Aalyn as she continued, "It could be nothing. She may have just wandered off into the fog and gotten lost, or she may have snuck off with one of the soldiers or craftsmen. It's too soon to tell..."

Aalyn nodded that she understood, then motioned for Rweble Faline to come to her. When he joined them, she started giving quiet commands, "Rweble go and let Hayden and Grunngrul know that we have at least one missing priestess, and possibly more. Tell them to postpone pulling away for an hour. Each of you take a count of the men under your commands and make sure we haven't lost anyone else. Thurdain, find Illglan and both of you take a count of the priestesses, and then all of you make a quiet search of the entire camp for our lost Initiate and any others that may be missing."

Once they left to start their tasks, she looked around carefully to see who was watching. When she saw that no one was paying attention, she stepped behind a tree and disappeared into the mist. She walked for only a few minutes before she found what she was looking for, a hollow stump that would serve perfectly as a commode. It took several minutes to take her armor off before she was able to pull her britches down and sit on the tree stump. It was right in the middle of her relief, as she was hunched over and contemplating the mist and the sounds of the forest that there was a slight rustle of pine nettles. With a hiss she sat up to look around and see what made the noise. Just as she sat back the tip of a dagger nicked her throat as a cloaked shadow slashed at her. Out of nowhere a second shadow appeared and collided with the first, and they both went rolling through the underbrush.

"Shit! Fuck! Fucking shit! I'm going to fucking murder you," She snarled the new curses Sinaan taught her as she put a hand to her throat and checked herself for injuries, then she quickly cleaned herself up and tried to shimmy her britches back on, but left them unbuttoned. She didn't bother with armor, and instead grabbed the hilt of her sword and pulled it free of it's scabbard before taking up a mid-sized kite-shield painted with the emblems of her House, and turned back to the fight that was now a few yards away.

Running over, she tried to find an opening as the two shadows tousled and rolled across the ground. They struggled like fighting snakes for some time as each tried to put a dagger in the other's ribs while also grabbing at wrists to parry and disarm the other. They grunted and groaned, hissed and cursed, and then finally broke apart momentarily as they both rolled agilely to their feet. The assassin pulled new daggers from beneath the cloak while her rogue retrieved the one he had lost. With a hiss the assassin launched into a new onslaught of attacks that was met with the equal skill of the rogue. They danced from fighting stance to stance as steel rang out against steel, and quick strikes as blade against blade sent flashes and sparks as enchantments struck enchantments only to be followed up with opportunistic kicks to ankles, knees, or hips. It was a mad gambol to break the others rhythm and balance, and whomever succeeded would win.

The assassin was the larger of the two fighters and the cloak that was worn made Aalyn's eyes want to cross and look away. However, despite the enchantment of the cloak that masking her identity, she was still certain that the way the assassin moved was with a feminine grace as her daggers slashed and stabbed probing for openings and weaknesses. With weapons and arms moving in a blur that Aalyn had a hard time following as they parried and dodged, they moved so erratically that she couldn't find an opening, and so, moved around for a better vantage point. As she stepped around a tree the assassin saw her target and twisted, dancing around the black garbed rogue's daggers and lunged at Aalyn.

She braced herself to meet her assassin head on, but with a quick roll and a kick, the rogue took the assassin's feet out from under her so that she fell hard to the ground in front of Aalyn. The rogue took the opportunity to jump on the attacker's back and plunged his daggers in until she stopped moving. With the fight concluded, silence quickly swept over the forest once again as Aalyn walked over, her sword and shield out in front of her protectively, and as she drew close to the would-be assassin Sinaan looked up and swept a built in cowl from his head as he gave her a devastating smile that didn't hide the fact that he was breathing hard.

"This assassin may be the best fighter I've ever fought," He huffed as he stood up, then put his boot in Aalyn's assailant's back and pulled his daggers out before wiping the blood off onto the cloak, "I'm glad I was here. As good as you are, Aalyn, I don't think you would have come out on top of that fight with your britches around your ankles."

"Mmm, yes, well, if you want to live to see your next birthday never speak of this...ever...again," She retorted firmly, leaving no room for doubt that she would kill him if he ever told anyone that she was almost assassinated while relieving herself, "But, it was a good idea for you start shadowing me. You have become quite good at the art of stealth."

"In my previous life, the only characters I ever played were rogues," Sinaan offered with a sly grin, "and I always went by the name Blade...for a good reason...I was the best at what I did..."

"Mmm, so you've told me. When we return home I may yet award you with that title officially," She chuckled as she poked at the corpse on the ground, "but, if you ever speak of what happened here the only title you'll receive will be, Sinaan the Rusty Spoon on your tombstone..."

He couldn't help but guffaw before replying, "I promise sister, on my life and on my...reputation, that I will never speak of the details of what happened here."

He had paused for a moment there, and she knew why. He was going to say "by his love for her" but she had forbidden him long ago from doing that. He could not love her. As the heiress of House Abendroth she must maintain certain...appearances, and remain unwed incase a fortuitous alliance should come available. Still, Sinaan was only eighteen, he was young and naive, even if he had shared with her that he was much older than he looked.

That revelation had spawned an interesting dialogue once she had him tied to a wrack one night, and a cane had worked wonders for loosening his tongue so that she found out all about the Yellow Realm, Midgard, full of humans and technology. He had educated her on their history, and who he was as a man before he found himself being reborn from their mothers womb as a Svartalf. He had been a programmer, whatever that was, and had been alpha-testing a game, for adults of all people, just before his transference. He admitted to being forty-seven years old, which with him now being eighteen, made his mental and emotional age sixty-five. Almost as old as herself by seven years. She had to admit it was nice to have a more experienced lover trapped in a young man's body so that she reaped the benefits of both experience and youth...

Staring down at the dead assassin, she brought her attention back to the matters at hand and growled, "Now, let's see who we have here..."

She poked the dead body one more time to make sure it was indeed dead, and then Sinaan flipped it over. Clutched in both hands were daggers, but that wasn't what caught their attention. Within the cloak was a beautiful Svartalf priestess. Her hair was strawberry blonde, and fell in loose wavy locks down her back. Her skin was as black as onyx, and she had hazel eyes that were red with flitting swirls of green and yellow that starred up from a face forever locked in an eternal expression of horror.

Sinaan ran a finger down her cheek and across her beautiful beestung mouth before he stood up straight and whispered, "Well, I guess we found Thurdain's missing Initiate."

"I guess we did," Aalyn agreed with a nod as she watched Sinaan carefully.

With a heavy sigh, he mused as he shook his head, "I'm a trained assassin. So how did a lowly Initiate priestess fight on par with me?"

"That's a good question," Aalyn answered thoughtfully, "I don't know, but we will find out."

He looked a bit crestfallen, so she asked, "This isn't your first time killing...so are you finding it harder this time because she's a woman?"

He took a deep breath and then let it out real slow as he answered, "Yeah, I guess so. I don't much like killing women, but I would have done the same thing nevertheless, because I will kill anyone that tries to hurt my beloved sister..."

She found herself smiling despite herself, and leaned over and shouldered him affectionately before she purred, "Good boy, by the way, thank you for saving my life."

"You know I would do anything for you Aalyn," He retorted with a smile.

"Good," She commended him with a proud grin then waved him off with a command, "Then go find your sisters and tell them to come here at once."

"Yes ma'am," He answered with a brisk salute before leaving.

Once he was gone Aalyn went back to her stump and finished her relief, cleaned herself up, and dawned her breastplate, tassets, poleyns, and schynbalds. Afterward she didn't have to wait long before Thurdain and Illglan appeared. When she saw only them she asked, "Where is Sinaan?"

"I sent him to fetch your lieutenant colonels," Thurdain answered.

She nodded, then pointed to the dead Initiate on the ground, "Have a look and tell me if this is your girl, and Delve her to see if you can find anything that might explain her behavior."

"Yes, of course," Thurdain agreed with a nod followed quickly by moving to the body and putting a hand first on her head as she uttered a prayer and her hand began to glow. As soon as she began delving the corpse she hissed, then moved quickly to her chest above her heart and gasped before moving her hand down her belly until it was resting between her navel and her pelvis. Thurdain motioned for Illglan to join her and they whispered, after which Illglan said a prayer and performed the same Delving. When she concluded her inspection they whispered amongst themselves once again before standing up and turning to Aalyn.

"This is indeed our Initiate," Thurdain reported with a sad shake of her head while Illglan nodded grimly, "And at the same time she is not..."

Aalyn found herself giving Thurdain a questioning look just as Hayden, Grunngrul, and Rweble walked up with Sinaan following a few feet behind. As they approached Thurdain continued her analysis, "This girl is nothing more than a husk. She's been completely hollowed out..."

"What do you mean by hollowed out," She asked.

"Exactly what I said," Thurdain answered with a shake of her head, "I've never seen this before, but it is taught at the Academy. This poor girl's brain, and with it the Well of the Divine, as well as all her internal organs and with them her Well of Motivation, and the Well of Power are all gone. This body is nothing but a doll that someone else was pulling the strings of."

"What or who could do this sort of thing," Aalyn asked, her voice weak as she herself felt like she had just had her breath taken away.

"There are only two things that can do this," Thurdain answered, "A Demon or a Necromancer. Both practice a forbidden magic based on soul bindings and contracts. They literally bind a person, body and soul, through a contract, to soulstones leaving a husk of a body that is under their direct control or they can bind another soul to for a specific purpose."

"That would certainly explain why an Initiate priestess had the skills of a veteran assassin," Sinaan commented wryly.

"Who is this welp," Hayden asked, his tone betraying his annoyance at being summoned, or that Sinaan dained to speak in the presence of his betters.

"He is our little brother, and my Page," Aalyn answered curtly, but also directed a meaningful glare at Sinaan to keep quiet. He was her secret weapon, and he was to play the part of a diminutive Page, "If he hadn't heard the rustling of pine needles and sounded the alarm I would be dead right now."

Hayden still looked contemptuous, but also was smart enough to appear chastised as Aalyn continued, "However, Hayden is also right. Sinaan, you are no longer needed here so go resume your duties."

Sinaan was smart as a whip and knew exactly what she was telling him to do. With a curt salute he left and trotted back towards the army. As soon as he was concealed by the mist and the dark of the forest he activated the skill Stealth, and disappeared before circling around to shadow his Lady...

"So, we have a Demon or a Necromancer on our hands," Grunngrul commented rhetorically.

"It would seem so," Aalyn answered as she examined her lieutenant colonel's faces, "But an even greater question is; why me?"

"Pardon," Hayden asked implying he didn't understand.

"The assassin targeted me," Aalyn answered pointedly, "Not any of you, me. The General of this army, and the heir of House Abendroth."

"I would hazard a guess that you have fallen in disfavor with someone," Hayden answered sarcastically, "If indeed this assassin was only targeting you."

"There is no way to prove or disprove motives at this time," Thurdain added since she knew Aalyn the best and knew the underlying accusations she was inferring, "I will continue examining the corpse and see if we can divine and more clues, and Illglan is going to make sure that no other priestesses have fell prey to whoever did this."

"Good," Aalyn responded with a nod as she watched the Faline brothers. She suspected them, but without proof she had to play this game of cat and mouse until either she or they made a mistake, "Well resume your duties, continue getting a count of the soldiers so that we know if this was the only assassin or if there will be more."

"As you command," Hayden, Grunngrul, and Rweble chorused with snap salutes that didn't hide their sneers.

"When you are done," Aalyn whispered to Thurdain, "Incinerate the corpse." Thurdain looked up and their eyes met before she nodded as Aalyn finished, "The last thing we need is a Necromancer reanimating it."

"Agreed," Thurdain mumbled.

Though Aalyn wanted to leave she found herself staying close to Thurdain. She didn't have a strong desire to be alone, and she felt a deep foreboding for her sisters being alone as well. Just because she was the target this time didn't mean that they weren't targets as well...

——(!)——

An hour later Hayden led the march down into the next valley after their reports were made. No soldiers were missing. Once her lieutenant colonels left, Thurdain made her report.

"We are missing two Initiates besides the one we disposed of," She whispered, "Someone is preying on my girls. When we find the culprit, I want to kill him or her personally."

"Given the opportunity," Aalyn answered with a nod, "This person is all yours, however if you are not available, we are not taking it prisoner. We are killing it out right."

"I understand," Thurdain agreed with a nod, "Then I request to remain at your side at all times."

"Yes," Aalyn whispered and nodded, "Find Illglan as well. This thing kidnapped and killed, for all intents and purposes, three priestesses. We have to assume that means they are all cloaked assassins. There are also three of us, so we should assume that I was not the only target."

"So this is assault on House Abendroth," Thurdain mused, "Someone is trying to assassinate us in the field, and that means mother is in danger as well."

"Most likely," Aalyn agreed with a nod, "This is either the work of House Feline, or the Governor, trying to rid herself of one of our feuding houses."

"No," Thurdain disagreed with a shake of her head, "It makes no sense for her to get involved. The house's constant feuding is what makes her position so stable. If she were to try to end the feuding then it wouldn't be long before someone started plotting against her."

"True," Aalyn mumbled, "Then it must be House Faline."

"Most likely," Thurdain answered, "But there is a slight chance there is a third party further down the political food chain that is looking to remove two obstacles at once."

"So we can't act rashly," Aalyn surmised, "We still need proof."

"Yes," Thurdain agreed, "It will take time, but we have the perfect man for the job."

"Hmm, yes, but I rather not put Sinaan in too much trouble," Aalyn whispered, "If he were to die, mother will kill me herself."