Page 23

20

Lost in the passage of time, which brought her new uncertainties instead of clarity, Shadi sighed and moved in the chair as if it had been forged to torture the respectable backsides of people like her. Stupid and selfish people.

She coughed, her mouth poisoned by the bitter taste of memories too recent, too painful and too cruel.

As soon as her eyes landed on Darjin, she was shaken by a sob. But she choked back the tears and tried to compose herself. It was heartbreaking to see her in that state.

By now, Shadi had come to regard the woman more as a member of her family than a friend. The heroism of throwing herself headlong into battle to save her was priceless.

Shadi had not slept for two nights. Her mind had struggled to comprehend the amount of incredible events that had occurred in such a short time, and the extreme consequences they had brought.

Not long before, her main concern had been whether to please her family or fight for her own desire for independence.

It all seemed very silly to her as she sat there staring at Darjin, struggling to heal from wounds that had nearly killed her. Wounds she had suffered, of course, to save Shadi. The woman's life had been dancing on the edge of a very deep abyss since the day she swore her allegiance to the Jan Hura family.

Shadi watched her. The candles and the fireplace bathed the room in flickering light and made Darjin's expression indecipherable. At least her breathing had become more regular and the nightmares had stopped torturing her.

According to the healers, rest would mend all the wounds she had suffered. They reassured Shadi that although she had lost a lot of blood during the fight and flight, she would make a full recovery. After all, the Dagger had trained hard all her life. She was used to enduring pain and had the willpower to get back on her feet quickly.

Shadi had been more than willing to give her as much time as she needed and had demanded that Darjin be cared for by her family, not stitched up by some soldier or forgotten in a dormitory with men and women barely deemed worthy of a glance. Her mother Tiona had objected, of course. "This is no place for her. These quarters have housed personalities of a very different lineage."

Shadi had barely held back her anger, and only her father's presence had prevented the discussion from turning into an argument weighed down by words that could not be erased.

"The Dagger has kept her oath to the best of her ability, and I'm sure we can give her special consideration in this case," he had said in the tone of someone moving on a slippery surface. "Besides, I need Darjin to recover quickly. I need to know about her conversation with Ensin Thawill. Every hour that passes in silence is an hour in which we don't really know who is threatening us."

Even Tiona had to put aside her haughty attitude and accept the common sense in those words.

Yes, in a way Shadi had won a small victory and ensured that Darjin received the care she deserved. But she could not help but pick up on the subtle disappointment in her father's words. Her memories of what had happened during the abduction remained annoyingly confused.

She had struggled to make her own account coherent, to recall anything that might help identify the men who had taken her and the other girls.

She had clung to the details, trying to follow the trail like scattered crumbs on a dark road. But each attempt yielded worse results than the last. In fact, her memory seemed to close in on itself with increasing stubbornness each time she questioned it about what had happened to her in that tower buried in the rock.

"You will remember," her father reassured her. "You're just shaken up, and need to rest as much as your Dagger."

Shadi had returned his good-natured smile, accepted his pat on the head. The events she had experienced, however poorly framed by the painting of fleeting memories, would test the strength of mind of the more mature and experienced woman. And she felt immensely young and incapable.

She had been kidnapped.

All her young fellow captives were dead. All of them.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine as Kerina's face filled her mind.

On the verge of new tears, Shadi gasped as she heard a knock at the large window that stretched from the floor to the ceiling of the room. Her senses lit up, fear pinning her to the armchair. She blinked and fought with herself to regain some clarity.

After a few moments, she loosened her grip on the armrests of the chair and realized that a malicious person would not bother to knock. On the other hand, whoever it was had chosen not to visit Darjin through the front door. Not a good sign, certainly, but was it a threat?

She stood up slowly, her muscles and joints aching. Her body was covered in purple bruises where she had been grabbed and pushed. Her knees were skinned and her eyes were so swollen that she truly feared she had shed all the tears in the world.

But there were always more tears. There were always more regrets, more memories, more doubts.

And she had lived.

She considered asking the sentries who guarded the room beyond the door for help. Should she let them open the window? That would be the wiser decision. The uncertainty vanished as she caught the metallic reflection through the glass. Emerging from the blackness of the night outside, the Tamer's Lethenium mask took on the sharp contours of the raptor he rode.

Shadi stood motionless for a few moments, gazing at the very tall man and the artwork that covered his face. Though she had only traveled the distance between the sunken tower and the Lake of Currents with him, she was sure she would recognize the Tamer among a thousand. She told herself that her belief must be unfounded, perhaps even foolish. As far as she knew, all the other Tamers wore such masks, and the armor they wore must have been identical. But were they all that obscenely tall? What about his voice? It had to be unique.

She shook off these thoughts and went to open the window.

"Please come in," she whispered, afraid to alert the guards. She was unsure of the man's motives for showing up in the grace of the night, but he obviously preferred to keep this conversation private.

He nodded and glided into the room as if his size were meaningless. The only sound that accompanied him was the rustling of the long cloak that almost touched the floor.

"How are you, my lady?"

Shadi made a conscious effort to look away from his mask and the incredible eyes it framed. She wanted to see beyond the precious glass they were cast in. She wanted to see the man's face. He seemed to read her thoughts. "Respect for the office I hold prevents me from lifting this mask. Believe me, I often wish I could act differently. But that would not be wise."

"You need not apologise. It is I who lack the poise one would expect from the daughter of a Lugalen," she replied, inviting him to enter. "I am well, do not fear for me." She glanced at Darjin, sunk into bed, surrounded by pillows and furs.

The Tamer approached the Dagger. He seemed to be looking at Darjin as if he were standing in front of a monument or a work of art. "It is incredible. What your Dagger has done is truly amazing."

Your Dagger.

Darjin was a woman. A person. Why did everyone refer to her as if she were some kind of trophy? How many times had she called it that herself? And why?

The Tamer was right. Darjin had saved her against all odds, openly defying enemies who should have overwhelmed her in a thousand different ways. "Without your help, sir, my friend would not have survived." She glanced at the Tamer, then at the nightstand beside the bed. From a drawer she pulled out the object that had enabled Darjin to face such a mad challenge.

The Shield Band.

It reflected the light from the fireplace like an ornament, an object designed to please the eyes and ego of the wearer before the beholder.

Nothing could be more deceptive.

"I believe this belongs to you," she said, lifting the object up to the Tamer. "Before she fell unconscious, Darjin asked me to return it to you. I am sure she will find a way to thank you personally sooner or later," she said, looking at her rescuer.

There was a barely perceptible shake of his head. "Do not thank me. Continue to guard the Artifact, my lady. When your friend awakens, tell her that the Band is now hers. She has earned it."

The Tamer paused and shifted his glassy eyes to Shadi's face. "I will come back to make sure your friend learns to use it to its fullest. I am glad to know that you are both safe after all that has happened. Forgive me for wanting to check on your well-being myself."

Shadi nodded. She wanted to ask the Tamer many questions. She was unclear about his role in all of this, and his motives for helping her and Darjin seemed rather nebulous. To many, the Tamers were the living symbol of Larsa's infinite power. That one of them had gone beyond the boundaries of the city-state and stuck his nose into the affairs of Urook was, to say the least, a singular fact.

Shadi also felt that voicing these doubts would be tantamount to showing an ingratitude that did not belong to her. But she promised herself that she would raise these questions sooner or later.

"Thank you," she said, giving him a short bow. "We are alive because of you and your beautiful creature," she continued, thinking of the giant Silver Sparrowhawk.

"I will give him your regards, my lady."

Shadi smiled at the Tamer and followed him with her eyes. She saw him reach the window, open it and slip out of the room like a silver shadow, the reflection of a memory too easily mistaken for fantasy.

It was late at night when Shadi heard Darjin's moans; plagued by nightmares, she floated in that state between fears and memories, sleep and wakefulness.

Leaving the armchair, Shadi threw a few logs into the fireplace, took one of the candles from the far corner of the room and placed it on a dresser near the bed. She reached out to stroke Darjin's forehead. It was no longer hot.

"My lady!" Darjin gasped. She jumped, startled awake. She still had the same feverish look in her eyes, the same one that had set her on fire in the buried tower.

Shadi took her hand. "It's all right. It's all right, Darjin, it's over. You did it, you saved me. We are safe."

"Are you sure, my lady?" Darjin swept her eyes around the room, then narrowed them and bit her lower lip to stifle a groan.

"Yes, I'm sure. The healers have patched you up nicely, but the stitches could reopen if you're not careful how you move. Try to rest."

"Where are we?"

Shadi sighed, searching for the right words to describe the place that silenced even the most experienced storyteller. "We are guests at the summer residence of our Lord Zayr at the Lake of Currents." She looked out the window. In daylight, the view was absolutely spectacular.

The vast lake, rippled by currents so strong that it looked like a stormy sea, loomed over the horizon, hiding its incomprehensible secrets. It was said that its deep basin of inky black water was home to the most ancient of creatures. There were those who swore that the incessant movement of the waves and currents were caused by these very beasts, battling in the depths.

Shadi did not know what to believe. But the lake intimidated and attracted her at the same time. It seemed to be the gateway to another world.

"It appears that Zayr had arranged accommodation for dozens of Lugalen families on their way to Larsa. We were all supposed to stay here while we awaited his arrival on the Lethenium Dart. Instead, the residence is almost empty. There are only four other families besides ours. So I was told." Shadi had to stop. She was out of breath. Because all the girls who were imprisoned with her were dead. Because only she had survived. The one who had tried to avoid this journey.

Darjin shook her hand. "It is not your fault, my lady. There is no shame in surviving. You know that the burden of these deaths is not on your shoulders," she told her in a hoarse voice.

Shadi was in no mood for any of this. She believed she was the least likely young woman to attend the ceremony. Any of the massacre's victims would have represented her peers far better than she could.

She went to pour a glass of water for Darjin, then helped her to drink.

"How are your parents?"

"My father is injured, but not badly. My mother was not hurt. I think her screams scared the kidnappers to death. She must have sounded like a raging witch to them," she chuckled.

Darjin laughed too. She coughed and covered her mouth with her hands. "How many men died? When you were kidnapped, how many died trying to defend the caravan?"

"Too many. Even one life sacrificed for mine is a waste. I am not worth that much."

"Stop it," Darjin silenced her. She had never spoken to her like that. Her voice was hard, like a rock. There was an angry quiver in the words she spoke. "Every time you speak like this, my lady, you spit on the courage of the men and women who serve your family, who fight for your safety, who protect your brother and your parents."

Darjin's words hit Shadi like a slap.

"I chose your family," Darjin went on. "I chose to serve your father among dozens of other Lugalens. You may not know it, but there was a time when my services were in great demand, perhaps even coveted, by the leading families of Urook. By the gods, there were even Napuri who would pay handsomely to secure my loyalty. I could have chosen to be guided by greed, by the desire to excel among my peers, or by the thought of the political advantage I would gain at the end of my term. But I didn't. To choose your father, I only had to hear him speak once. That there was something special about him was already clear to my eyes." Darjin paused. She moved a hand to her left shoulder, where a bandage covered a deep wound.

"At that time, your father was an Ensin from the Red Army. I met him on the highest borders of the Peaks. He was commanding a contingent of soldiers sent to destroy a small town that seemed to harbor a den of marauders responsible for much plunder."

Shadi had no idea. It had probably all happened before she was born. If Darjin remembered it so vividly, she too must have been very young then. Or she had aged with incredible grace.

"When your father reached the city, he found a place very different from what he expected, far from attractive even though it was part of the Fields of Dawn. It was a place cursed by all the neighbouring settlements. Leoben found only women and children. The information he was given was only partially true. The marauders had been hiding there for a long time, but there were many, many more than anyone thought. Virtually every adult male had participated in the raids. In one way or another, they were all guilty of crimes for which they would be severely punished." Darjin paused, as if searching for the courage to continue.

"So they fled. They did it at night, suddenly. They left women and children behind, promising them they would return when the siege was over. They were cowards. Bloody cowards." The woman raised her eyes to the fireplace. Flames and memories danced in her irises.

"Perhaps they thought the Ensin would leave the city behind and chase them into the mountains. Or that the natural caves and burrows in the rock would hide them until the cold froze the butts of the soldiers hunting them. Instead, your father did not leave the city. Because they had given him specific orders. He was to raze it to the ground. Our Lord Zayr did not care how many women and children died. But your father was different from the other Ensins. He argued with his lord for three days and nights, begging him to spare the innocent. He put the interests of strangers before his own. He preached peace and tolerance to a deity who for hundreds of years had proclaimed war."

Shadi got lost in the story and began to realize how little she knew about her father's past. She wondered if her parents had deliberately chosen not to tell her about these events, or if they did not think it was important for her to know.

"Zayr listened to him. He withdrew his hand and his troops from the city. But his leniency cost your father dearly. The Lord Tutor demanded that Leoben resign immediately. He allowed the women and children of the city to live, but he could not accept that your father had defied his direct order. He sent him back to Urook, stripping him of his rank and possessions. For many years, Leoben Jan Hura became a common soldier like everyone else. Is this the first time you have heard this story, my lady?"

Shadi nodded. "Have you seen all this?"

Darjin's eyes remained fixed on the dance of flames. "I was there. In truth, I was little more than a motherless child, abandoned by my father, forced to care for a younger brother and try to survive in a desolate city. When I saw the armies your father commanded silhouetted against our horizon, I truly believed I was going to die along with all the others left behind. We all read our destruction in the eyes of those red-clad soldiers. Their armor shone like blood and their swords like lava. I held my brother Miro in my arms and whispered to him that everything would be all right, but the fear made my heart burst. Those were the longest days of my life." And the weight of those words, the pain they caused in Darjin's heart, was evident in the way her jaw tensed.

"I have known fear. I have tasted resignation. I lied to my brother in the hope that these feelings would not touch him, and I was ready to kill him in his sleep with my own hands rather than have him disembowelled by one of your father's men. At dawn on the fourth day, the soldiers gathered us in the small town square. I thought it was over, that they would kill us all on the spot. Instead, your father spoke. He said we were safe, that Zayr had blessed us with his mercy. I could not believe my ears. Even Miro, so little, was jumping for joy, along with the other children and all the women. They were singing, dancing and praising our Lord and your father. Of course, I was caught up in the celebration. I cried with joy and shouted prayers to heaven. Until I heard the rest."

Shadi folded her hands in her lap. A pang of fear clawed at her as she heard Darjin's voice broken by a muffled groan.

"I will never forget the words of your father. 'From today, you are a new people. You will be called Daggers. Every woman, boy and girl who lives in this city will embrace a new life. You will be instruments in the hands of your Master. You will be a weapon held between His fingers. You will be strength; you will be justice and sword. You will hate the enemies of the Masters. You will protect their Lugalens. You will persecute those who disobey their commands. The first to fall at your hands will be the cowards,' he said loudly. Darjin paused. She turned to Shadi and looked at her with an indescribable sadness.

"Women and children, we all died and were reborn that day, in a way. Our lives ended and began anew. We were given a new purpose, something to fight for and sacrifice our lives for. Looking back now, it was obvious what our first task would be."

Shadi imagined with horror the direction in which history was heading.

"Your father's men gave us weapons. They said if we wanted to live, we had to cleanse our families, starting with the traitors." Darjin wiped away a tear. "We agreed, of course. We hunted down the fugitives, set traps for them and deceived them. It took five years, but in the end we killed them all: our fathers, brothers, uncles and cousins. It was not easy to accept this in our hearts, nor was it easy to act on it. Many women and children died hunting members of their own families. Even my brother Miro. He died fighting our father. They killed each other." The story stopped, words slipping from Darjin's mouth as tears forced her to cover her eyes.

"Oh, my friend. I didn't imagine, I didn't know," Shadi said as she brushed Darjin's shoulder.

"Those of us who survived formed a new tribe. King Zayr sent more Ensins and soldiers to train us. Little by little, the Daggers became a reality. We were born of the blood of our families. We will live forever trying to repay our Lord's mercy," Darjin continued.

"For my part, I have never forgotten those who paved the way for us. I vowed that one day I would seek out your father and find a way to show him how grateful I was for what he had done. Three days and three nights defending our cause. We were nothing to him. Nothing at all. And yet he did it. He saved us, not Zayr, in my heart. When I heard that Leoben had embarked on a political career and was considering the position of Lugalen, I knew the time was right. I chose him, Shadi, because no one had ever fought for the common people like myself, my brother, and the women and children of my remote town. Leoben's nobility of spirit saved lives." Darjin turned to Shadi and stared at her intently.

"I am confident that in your heart there is the same spark, the same determination to do what is right. I saw it in that fortress dug into the rock. You did not want to run away, you did not want to abandon those girls, even at the cost of succumbing with them. Young women like you are rare in this world. Young women like you can touch and change the existences of others, just as your father did with mine. So don't ever say that your life is worthless. Do you understand me?"

Shadi nodded, unable to find words that did not sound useless. Her head was spinning. Despite the fact that Darjin had told her about these events in an effort to rid her of her feelings of inadequacy, she felt so stupid, so shallow.

Darjin coughed. She put a hand to her forehead. "Perhaps I have spoken too much, my lady."

Shadi smiled at her. "No, no. I'm glad you told me this story. You've given me a lot to think about and I'm grateful from the bottom of my heart." She refilled the glass with fresh water and helped Darjin down a generous gulp. "I've kept you awake longer than I should have. If you don't get some rest, the healers will take it out on me."

"Judging by the dark circles under your eyes, you should be sleeping as well, my lady."

Shadi nodded, "I will. Now lie down. Don't mind me." She helped her onto the pillows, pulled up her blankets, ignoring the grunts of protest, and took a seat in the armchair beside the bed. She continued to watch, her heart and mind filled with new, powerful and, in their own way, terrifying images.

Filled with mixed emotions, Shadi closed her eyes and tried to see her father from Darjin's perspective. She imagined how he must have looked through the eyes of a desperate girl, convinced that she would die holding her little brother in her arms.

She promised herself that things would be different from then on. A door to Darjin's past had opened and Shadi would not let it close.