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Betrayer's Bane, Page 2

Michael G. Manning


  “Why me?”

  “I can tolerate a certain amount of madness, if it allows me to accomplish our goals, but you’re the only one I trust to judge that.”

  Brigid scowled, “Because I’m the craziest one of the lot, right? That’s what you meant isn’t it?”

  He nodded, stepping closer, “And if I do have to be put down, you, more than anyone, deserves the right to do it. Hell, you may be the only one who could.”

  She looked at the ground, “I won’t kill you. I was mistaken before. If you go mad, I’ll just join you until they put us both down.” You’re the only one I love anymore.

  He put his arms around her, pulling her close, “Even if I turn into a She’Har, or a tree-lover?”

  She tensed, and the chains on her horse’s saddlebags shifted, clinking ominously. “That wouldn’t be you. Maybe I could do it then. How long will this take?”

  Tyrion released her and went to his horse, “Days for sure, weeks possibly, there’s no way to know.”

  “I hope you have a quiet place in mind, then.”

  He grinned, “I already have it picked out.”

  ***

  They journeyed deep into the foothills, skirting Colne and making for the rocky hinterlands that lay beyond. The region was too rough for the She’Har’s elders to grow, and even the beleaguered remnants of humanity had found it too difficult to eke out a living there. The ground was too hard for farming, and there wasn’t enough water to subsist on.

  For Tyrion it was perfect.

  He didn’t know the area, though. There were probably caves that would have been suitable places to find shelter, but he didn’t know where they were. Rather than waste time hunting, he asked the earth to help and it followed his suggestion, creating a deep cool niche in the side of one of the stony hillsides. A small spring rose in the back, providing water and a cold pool to bathe in.

  They had brought their own food, but if they had to stay too long, Brigid was an able hunter, although her cooking skills left a lot to be desired.

  Once they had made the place somewhat comfortable, Tyrion arranged his pallet and stripped. He had no idea if he would sleep, dream, or simply rave. From what Lyralliantha had told him previously, he suspected he would be unconscious for some time, at least in the beginning.

  The loshti was still the same deep purple brown when he opened the stasis box, exactly as it had been when he had stolen it a year earlier. Despite himself, he felt uncertain when he looked on it, uncertain and afraid. What will it do to me?

  “How did you get it?” asked Brigid, watching him intently.

  “It was meant for Lyralliantha, but I snuck into the grove and took it the night before she was meant to have it,” he explained.

  Her brows went up, “Just like that?”

  “It was unguarded.” He didn’t bother describing the methods he had used to avoid detection, or the fact that he had had help from Emma and Ryan.

  “That seems suspicious. Why would they leave something like that unprotected?”

  “Hubris,” Tyrion replied. “Lyra told me that they didn’t need to guard it. Apparently no one has ever stolen from the Illeniel Grove before.”

  Brigid narrowed her eyes, “Because of their foresight. You shouldn’t have been able to take it, not unless they meant for you to. Don’t you think this might be a trap?”

  “You couldn’t sense anything when the earth moved, remember? I think my special ability is something they can’t perceive.”

  “But you don’t know that,” she insisted. There was a hint of worried desperation behind her words.

  Tyrion nodded, “You’re right, I don’t know. It could be a trap. It could be poison, or something worse, but if it’s truly what Lyralliantha told me about, then I can’t imagine they would have let me have it voluntarily. No one would be such a fool as to let something containing the knowledge of ages fall into the hands of his enemy. For that reason, if they had been able to see what I would do, I believe they would have stopped me.”

  “Don’t do it,” said Brigid, but her father was biting down on the fruit already.

  It was sweet, far sweeter than ordinary Calmuth. Tyrion took a large bite and swallowed, gulping quickly. He wasn’t sure how fast it would begin to affect him, and he wanted to get it all down before he lost his senses. He took another bite and then another.

  “Stop Father! That’s enough, you don’t know what it will do…”

  He wolfed it down, sparing none of it. There was no seed in the center of its juicy pulp, making it easy to finish. The taste seemed to radiate through his lips, across his tongue, and down his throat. He couldn’t get enough.

  His entire body seemed to tingle, and he stared in wonder at his daughter. “You are so beautiful, Brigid. Have I ever told you that?”

  She bit her lip, “I don’t think so. Do you feel alright?”

  “I feel wonderful,” he answered. “Do you see that?” He looked at the empty air above and behind her. “It’s getting lighter in here. Are you making that light?”

  It was dusk outside and the entrance was far enough away that it was fairly dim in their hideaway. “What light? Nothing has changed, Father.”

  Tyrion stared through her, watching the trees grow around them, great statuesque behemoths that seemed to reach for the stars. They were bathed in a gradually intensifying luminous glow, a warmth that fed and nurtured them. A light that was full of meaning and importance. Far below he could feel his roots expanding, touching his brothers and sisters and connecting him to the entire world. Pleasure seeped through him, into his very bones, and it grew stronger with each passing moment as the light grew brighter.

  Soon he could no longer see at all, and the brilliance became a sort of reverse blindness that rather than obscuring sight, instead overwhelmed him with an unimpeded view of everything. The pleasure became so intense it was painful, and at its core he began to burn.

  Brigid watched him as he stared blankly around himself. Her father’s mouth had formed an ‘o’ of wonder, but his eyes were unsteady. She felt helpless and all she could do was help ease him into a prone position as his body went slack. His skin was hot. No sooner than she had gotten him down, but he began to writhe, alternating between a tense rigid state and a limp placid one.

  She had no idea what to do as he began to babble incoherently, so she simply sat nearby, stroking his head with one hand. “Please don’t die,” she whispered. “You’re all I have left.”

  Chapter 3

  Lyralliantha had returned a month after Tyrion’s departure, but she hadn’t seemed very curious about his absence, which only made Kate more anxious.

  In fact, none of them openly expressed any concern, despite Kate’s pointed questions. It was now a full two months since he had left, and she had had enough. Albamarl had grown into a community of almost a hundred people over the past year, with the addition of the first batch of liberated slaves from Ellentrea and a few brave transplants from Colne, but tonight she had gathered the inner circle. Tyrion’s twelve surviving adult children, along with Layla and Lyralliantha were gathered in the main room of his home.

  “It’s been two months with no word from him…” she began.

  Fourteen pairs of eyes gazed back at her, but no one said anything.

  “Someone has to know something,” prodded Kate.

  “Why?” That was Ian’s voice. He stood with a small space around him, since none of the others particularly cared for him. “He never tells us anything,” continued the young man.

  “No one would talk to you anyway,” noted Piper sarcastically from the back of the room.

  Several of the others laughed and someone coughed, “Pervert.”

  Ian heard the remark, but he held his temper. He wasn’t the brightest of Tyrion’s children, but time and repeated ‘lessons’ had taught him the wisdom of not reacting to his siblings’ provocations. Being in a room with almost all of them at once meant he was completely outnumbered.

  Anth
ony spoke up, “He has a point, though. Whatever he’s doing he wouldn’t tell anyone if he didn’t want to.”

  “He told me he was going to Lincoln and then on to Sabortrea,” said Ryan, repeating what he had said several times over the past two months. “Maybe he got sidetracked.”

  “There are a lot of women in Sabortrea,” put in David, glancing at Kate almost apologetically.

  Emma was standing by Ryan, as usual, and she scowled at David, “You know he isn’t interested in the slaves, not like that.”

  Ian broke in, “I heard he used to keep one of the nameless in Ellentrea as a sex-slave.”

  Piper sneered, “Speaking of which, shouldn’t you be back in Ellentrea, raping the baratti?”

  Ian’s face colored instantly. Being unpopular with his siblings, he had been spending a lot of time with the slaves in Ellentrea. None of them had any real doubts about what he was probably doing there. “Shut your mouth, bitch!”

  “Why? Don’t you like girls who talk back? Or is it that this girl can whip your ass? You should go back to the slave camp and be with the other animals. You can be a big dog there where all the bitches are too weak to stand up to you,” responded Piper angrily.

  “Piper!” broke in Abby. “You shouldn’t call them baratti, or animals. They’re still people.”

  “Hardly,” muttered Piper under her breath.

  Ian was making his way to the door, “Fuck this.”

  “We aren’t done yet,” called Kate.

  “Let him go,” suggested David. “He wouldn’t know anything anyway.”

  “At least one of you must know something,” said Kate imploringly. She looked to Lyralliantha for support, but the She’Har woman merely stood by with a bored expression on her face.

  Emma came forward, “Kate, I know it’s hard to believe, but I really don’t think we do. Ryan is the only one he discussed his plans with, and he’s already told us what he knows. We just have to be patient…”

  “What if he doesn’t return? Aren’t any of you the least bit worried?!” exclaimed Kate in frustration.

  Lyralliantha put a graceful hand on her shoulder, “He will be back.”

  Kate frowned, “How can you know that? You weren’t even here when he left. Do you know something?”

  The She’Har woman sighed, “No, but the Elders told me to be patient. They trust him.”

  “Then they are fools,” growled Kate. “Do they know something? What else did they tell you? Lyra, please, talk to me!”

  The silver-haired Illeniel smiled sadly, “They tell me less than Tyrion tells us.”

  ***

  Emma Philips sat at her dressing table, trying vainly to brush the curls out of her soft brown hair. The curls weren’t tight enough to be attractive, instead they fell loosely and gave her hair a ragged unkempt appearance. Ryan had reassured her that he thought her hair was quite lovely, but she knew he was lying. He’d say anything to make me feel better. That thought brought a faint smile to her lips.

  Her room was guarded by an enchantment to protect her privacy, as most of their rooms were, but a soft sound outside her door made her turn her head. Rising swiftly, she opened the door before he could knock. Ryan slipped inside silently, and she closed it behind him.

  “Did anyone see you?” she asked her half-brother.

  He grinned roguishly at her, “No. Stop acting guilty. We’re just talking. If you act guilty everyone will start getting ideas.” Opening his arms, he embraced her.

  She held onto him for a long moment, but he didn’t complain. Emma listened to his strong heart beating, finding comfort there. Of all her siblings, Ryan was the only one she trusted fully. He was the only one who knew about the secret voices she heard. Almost unconsciously she drew a deep breath, inhaling his scent. Then she released him, embarrassed as she realized what she had done.

  Ryan sat on the end of her bed, his cheeks slightly flushed. Glancing up at her, he said what they were both thinking, “He’s been gone too long.”

  She nodded, “I thought Kate was going to snap tonight.”

  “I was more worried about Lyra,” said Ryan, “but she didn’t seem worried at all.”

  Emma watched the candlelight play on his straight sandy brown hair. “Do you think he told her something?”

  Ryan shook his head, “No. He’s in love with her, but he doesn’t trust her. He doesn’t trust any of the She’Har. Hell, he didn’t even tell Kate, and he does trust her.”

  She bit her lip, “Then why is she so unconcerned?”

  “You heard her, the Illeniel Elders told her to be patient. She also said he will be back,” observed Ryan. “Not that he probably be back, or that he was probably alright, but that he would be back. Why do you suppose that is?”

  “You still think they can see the future? It was just a turn of phrase. You’re reading too much into it,” argued Emma.

  “You saw what their krytek did during the fight to protect us,” reminded her brother.

  “So they have a sixth sense or something. It doesn’t necessarily follow that they’re omniscient.”

  Ryan stood and paced the room, “Well they clearly know something.”

  “If they knew what his intentions were, they’d have killed us all by now,” said Emma.

  “That’s the only thing that doesn’t make sense,” agreed Ryan. His eyes lit on her once more and he studied her for a moment, “Did you brush your hair?”

  “Maybe.”

  His expression softened, “Em’, we talked about this.”

  “No, you talked about it.”

  “It’s wrong. You’re my sister.”

  She scowled at him, “So I’m not supposed to love my brother?”

  “Not like that. You need to find someone,” he said firmly. “There are plenty of men in Ellentrea.”

  Emma laughed, “Please, some of them can barely speak! I might as well lie with a goat.”

  “I wouldn’t say that in front of Layla,” he opined.

  She waved her hand in dismissal, “She’s exceptional, and even she’s not right in the head.”

  “Maybe someone from Colne will come along…”

  “And you? Have you found a girl you fancy from among the villagers? Don’t tell me you like one of those broken nosed sluts from Ellentrea.” Her voice was dripping with disdain.

  Ryan took a step back, “Well no, but I’ve resigned myself to living a simple life.”

  “How noble of you,” said Emma bitterly. “And I suppose you look down on me for wanting some warmth and love in my life.”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Is it so wrong to want someone to hold? That’s all I really want, Ryan,” she said emphatically.

  He looked uncertain, “A hug maybe, but we kissed, Em’!”

  “So! We didn’t grow up together. We didn’t even know we were related until recently. I liked you long before that.”

  He shook his head, “It’s wrong.”

  She stalked toward him as though she might take a swing at him, but instead she threw her arms around him. Ryan tensed but after a moment he returned the embrace. “I love you, Ryan. Nothing will change that. If this is all we can have, then I’ll gladly take it.”

  He buried his head in her hair, his lips close to her neck, “I know that Em’. But it isn’t just you, it’s me. This is dangerous. I’m not like you. I don’t think I can do this without wanting more.” His voice had become deeper. “That would definitely be wrong.”

  “Only if we had a baby,” said Emma suddenly. “I’ve been talking to Layla. She told me that the slaves in Ellentrea do all sorts of things that don’t result in children. We don’t have to suffer, Ryan.” She turned her head, putting her lips against his.

  For a moment he returned the kiss, but then he pushed her away, “No.” Before she could respond, he opened the door and darted out.

  Ian was standing at the end of the hall, apparently about to enter his own room. He smirked knowingly when he saw Ryan, “And they
call me a pervert…”

  Ryan glared at him, “Shut up, bastard!”

  Ian shrugged, holding his hands out, “We’re all bastards together here in Albamarl, brother dearest.”

  Ryan’s response was instantaneous, his will lashed out, flinging his brother against the wall. Moving forward, he put his face close to Ian’s, “Not—another—word. Do you hear me?”

  Ian smiled, “Careful brother. Remember what you told me? It’s not about this anymore.” He illustrated his words by grabbing his own crotch, then he tapped his temple, “It’s about this.” Then he ignited the enchantment tattooed along his right arm. “You startled me, what if I had accidently cut your pretty head off?” He dismissed the enchantment almost as soon as the blade of force around his arm appeared. He had made his point. Ryan had left himself wide open.

  Cursing, Ryan turned away, heading for his own room.

  Ian laughed as he withdrew, “Don’t forget to use the sound proofing enchantment, brother. Privacy wards are only good if you use them.” He kept laughing as Ryan slammed his door. Only then did he notice Emma staring at him from her doorway.

  “If you ever hurt him, if I even think you’ve done something to him, I’ll have your balls off before you even realize they’re gone,” she warned in a dark tone.

  Another voice called out, Sarah had poked her head out at the far end of the hall, “What’s going on?”

  Emma said nothing, keeping Ian under a cold stare.

  He smiled, “Nothing. Just a friendly late night discussion.” He returned to his own room, but he continued chuckling softly under his breath.

  Emma closed her own door before her sister could ask her anything else.

  Chapter 4

  Ages passed, and Tyrion watched, from the first world and its wild splendor, to the latest world and its myriad differences. The She’Har had evolved, and along the way they had lost much. The first world had been filled with a thousand different races, trees of every description and type, some intelligent and others less so.