The Cursewright's Vow

Chapter 21: Moonrise over Vilais, Part 1

 Vos and Denisius sat on either side of Carala. Vos and Carala were staring fixedly at Ammas and Barthim as they spoke together in hushed, rapid tones, while Denisius kept stealing glances at the princess. Even in the reddish torchlight of the Hethraeum armory she looked entirely too pale. At first he thought it must have been because of the impending moonrise that was still hours away, but when he saw the hurt, fretting expression with which she regarded Ammas, he began to wonder if some quarrel had sprung up between them. The cursewright had raised his hood when he entered the bounds of the Hethmar temple, and in its shadow his face was completely inscrutable.

Finally Barthim clapped him on the shoulder. Ammas slipped an arm around Casimir's shoulders and led the boy out of the armory without another word to the rest of them. Barthim turned to the curved bench where they sat around a crackling firepit.

"It is settled," he said, his face graver than usual. "Ammas and Cass will go off to this watchtower he is making ready for you, Lady Zinna. He is saying there are things to prepare, to make sure nothing untoward is happening during your nighttime adventures." He winked at her, and despite the cold pit of fear and anxiety in her belly Carala couldn't help smiling a little. "About two hours before nightfall, good Denisius, Vos Wisethrone, and I will be escorting you to this place. It is not being too far, but we must be cautious, if what Ammas told me about the things you found is true."

"It's true," she said quietly. They had the armory to themselves, but still she feared being overheard, and not without reason. "Does Ammas know why the Swiftfoot would kill each other?"

Barthim shook his head. "If he is knowing, he is not sharing it with me. But do not be worrying about what they are doing to each other. All the better for us if they rip each other to pieces before they are knowing we are here, yes?"

Vos snorted. "At least we can look forward to facing only the most skilled among them."

Barthim laughed delightedly. "And they can be saying the same of us, Vos the Puler! Already there are three wolf-killers among us. Give us time and we'll blood everyone here, even you, Carala. In fact if I am laying coin on it, I will say you will take a wolf head before our good Denisius does."

Denisius smiled thinly. Carala looked less amused. Here in the sane light of the Hethraeum, with the moons still below the horizon above them, it was easy enough to think she would literally fight tooth and nail against whatever creatures showed up to drag her off with them. But who knew what it would be like when she wore the wolf's shape again, with the white moon gleaming down on her? She looked away from Barthim's smiling face, but that did no good: she was now looking at the door through which Ammas and Casimir had disappeared. The memory of the cursewright towering over her and threatening to abandon her surfaced at once, twisting her stomach in knots.

Barthim seemed to recognize something was troubling her. Slowly he knelt before her, clasping her left hand in both of his. The Beast's hands were huge and rough and as gentle as the tattoos scribed on his body were fierce. "You must not be worrying, Carala. Ammas knows how dangerous things have become. He leaves us here to watch for you while he places his own head in the wolf's jaws. He has told me, if he is gone when we reach the watchtower, if -- gods forbid -- Cass is gone, we are to come back to the Hethraeum and keep you here until dawn."

"They'll let you do that?" Denisius sounded impressed.

Barthim nodded to him. "Oh yes, Lord Marhollow. I am never visiting this place before, but the warpriests have sent competitors to the Hethraeum in Munazyr. I am being champion two of the last three years, second standing that third year because I had been drinking too much the night before. They are respecting me here, and they are telling me I have the run of the armory for the night." His eyes turned back to Carala, a sadness in them now. "Carala, I am hating this, but I am not having Ammas's gifts. If he does not return, we will have to shackle you. I will be making it as painless as I can, and no one will hurt you, but -- "