Tanys Defiant Page 3

  “Where are we?” Tanys demanded.

  “We are aboard my lord’s ice ship.” Misha explained. Then, seeing her words meant nothing to the raven girl, Misha moved across the room to pull back the heavy brocade curtains revealing the frosty glass panes of a large window.

  Tanys carefully walked to the window and looked out onto an endless field of ice, moving slowly past as though the entire building were being carried along on a wagon. Pressing her forehead to the cold glass, she looked down to try to see more of the structure of the place, but the wall curved inward below her, and the packed snow sparkled as it passed by nearly twenty feet below.

  “It’s basically a very large sled.” Misha said.

  Tanys cast her an incredulous gaze. “Where are my clothes?”

  “This way.” Misha said, leading her across the room to a large brass tub. “Let me draw the water for your bath.”

  “I didn’t ask for a bath,” Tanys growled, “I just want my clothes.”

  “You’ve been in bed for four days,” Misha insisted, “You need a bath.”

  “Four days?” Tanys was shocked, “What of my companions?”

  “I’m sorry,” Misha said softly, “I know nothing of your companions. Lord Carathan paid quite highly for your freedom from the war-bred. You would surely have died if he had not.”

  Tanys studied the resolve in the girl’s face, and then decided to make the best of it. “I’ll take a bath.”

  Misha smiled and walked to an intricately carved wooden cabinet. Opening it revealed a shimmering array of crystal jars and vials displayed therein. Taking a golden-stoppered flask from the lowest shelf, the girl opened it and began to pour what was apparently steaming hot water from it into the tub. The water continued to pour out long after it should have emptied, and Misha looked up with a twinkle in her eye. “My lord is a very good magician.”

  At last the tub was filled with hot water, and Misha capped the bottle and returned it to the shelf. Next, taking a faceted glass jar filled with pink sand, she cast a handful into the water that now fizzed and bubbled as the powder dissolved. She returned the jar to the shelf and unclasped the slim chain at her waist, setting it aside. With a tug at the lace around her throat, the girl’s dress fell away, and she turned to face Tanys again, naked and holding a large sponge in one hand.

  “Oh, no!” Tanys gasped, “I am quite capable of bathing myself, thank you anyway!” She snatched the sponge from the girl’s grasp and stepped clear of her fur blanket, handing it to Misha in the hopes of keeping her occupied in some less invasive manner.

  Settling into the bath was a wonderful sensation of warmth, edged with a flickering pain where the hot water touched the scars of her battle with Thru-Sha. Scrubbing the soft sponge over her skin, Tanys realized that someone must have bathed her after the battle while she lay unconscious. She had little doubt by whom as she cast a suspicious glance at the strange girl of A-Let that knelt beside the tub. Misha watched with her large violet eyes, chin resting on delicate hands folded together on the lip of the tub.

  “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” Tanys asked.

  “No,” Misha answered, “My lord sent me to care for you in whatever manner you required.”

  “Well I require you to go get my clothes.”

  Misha giggled and got to her feet. Her small breasts bounced lightly as she pranced away, a mischievous look in her eyes.

  “Wouldn’t hurt you to find some clothes too,” Tanys muttered under her breath.

  When the girl returned, she found Tanys already out of the tub and drying herself with a large towel she found in the cabinet. “That was fast,” Misha said disappointedly.

  “I wasn’t very dirty.” Tanys drawled sarcastically. Looking at the bundle of black cloth in Misha’s arms, she said, “Those aren’t my clothes.”

  “Lord Carathan made them for you.” Misha beamed.

  “He’s a seamstress too?”

  “No,” she said, frowning, “He’s just a very good magician.”

  Tanys had never owned any magical clothing before, and she was very tired of being without clothes, so she took the bundle, thanking Misha and suggesting that she might find her own garments somewhere in the vicinity of the tub. Tanys began to dress herself in the wizard’s clothes as Misha made a point of not getting dressed until after she had dropped a small piece of charcoal into the water of the tub. The gurgling sounds that came from the tub thereafter left little doubt in Tanys’ mind that the ghast’s magic could empty a tub as quickly as fill it.

  The bundle of clothing given her proved to be a two-piece bodysuit of thin black silk that stretched to fit her body tightly, leaving little, if anything, to the imagination. The legs of the thin silk pants stretched all the way down with silken stirrups to wrap around the soles of her feet, with only her toes and heels uncovered. Likewise her left arm was sheathed in black fabric that wrapped around her palm, leaving her fingers free to move. The high neck came up just under her chin, but a diagonal slash running from the hollow of her throat, down across her right breast, left her right arm and shoulder completely exposed. Laced throughout the entire fabric of the suit, thin gray threads formed a multitude of tiny spiraling cobwebs that blended together into a single hypnotic pattern.

  “He must like spiders.” Tanys joked.

  “It is made of spider silk.” Misha replied, slipping on the pale green dress again over her head.

  “They must have some very large spiders where he comes from.” Tanys laughed.

  “You have no idea,” Misha replied with no hint of humor in her voice.

  Tanys’ skin crawled a little as she imagined the source of the strange fabric that now clung tightly to her every curve. She forced the thought out her mind and asked, “Where are the rest of my clothes?”

  Misha laughed out loud, and crossed the room to a large armoire. “You will need a coat. My master is on deck now, and he’ll want to see you right away.”

  ****

  Tanys followed Misha up two short flights of steps to reach the deck of Carathan’s ice ship. They stepped into the blasting winds of the lifeless wastes, and Tanys shivered beneath the massive white bear pelt that Misha had given her to wear. Strangely though, the wooden deck seemed unnaturally warm and dry beneath her bare toes that peeked from the tips of the spider silk stockings. She found herself standing on the wide deck of a mastless ship. High on the forecastle, a small group of men stood likewise clad in furs, looking out over the frozen landscape as the great ship skipped and jostled easily across the face of the ice.

  “My lord,” Misha called out over the blast of the wind, “Your guest has awakened.”

  Lord Carathan of the Gerridaan turned to regard them with his large dark eyes. He whispered something as he turned, and the wind seemed to die away, leaving only a distant whistling moan to mark its passage. He drew back the ermine cowl of his fur-trimmed leather jacket, revealing the long silver hair that framed a pallid face with high cheeks and aquiline nose. His features might have seemed arrogant or cruel were it not for the subtle smile that curved his thin lips upon seeing the girls approach.

  “Thank you, Misha,” he spoke with a voice like the wind whispering against the walls on long winter nights, “I would be lost without you.”

  The Leddite girl beamed at him, bowing her head slightly as she backed away, leaving Tanys to face him alone.

  “I trust Misha has nursed you well,” he said, turning his attention to the raven girl.

  “I am very grateful for her healing touch,” Tanys answered, “and for your kindness as well.”

  “I hope the clothes fit you well,” he said, “My talents as a tailor are meager at best.”

  “They fit well enough,” Tanys smirked. She watched for a moment as his eyes flickered over her body hopefully, his brow furrowed slightly in anticipation. Then she let the bearskin coat drop away and stood before him, her head held high as his eyes lingered on every soft curve of her silk-clad form. Smiling slyly,
she lifted her arms and slowly twirled that he might enjoy his handiwork from every angle, her long, raven hair swung and bounced as she stopped again facing him, and cascaded over her shoulder as she bowed her head slightly in the manner of Misha’s sign of respect.

  Carathan laughed aloud then, a rough but sincere laugh, and from the looks of incredulity on the faces of his guardsmen, this was not a common occurrence. “I knew I was going to like you,” he chuckled, “and by what name should I call you, daughter of the North?”

  “I am Tanys of the Raven Tribe,” she replied, “and you are lord Carathan of the Gerridaan, I am told.”

  “Indeed I am,” he said, “and I welcome you aboard my ship. Please think of it as your home.”

  “Am I then your prisoner?” Tanys asked cautiously, “I am told you paid quite highly for me.”

  “You are my guest,” Carathan replied with a crooked smile, “I am not the sort of man who finds much value in prisoners. And, as my guest, I would beg your indulgence in one further matter.”

  He called for the tallest of his men to retrieve a leather bundle from a nearby chest and carry it to Tanys. The man, a gaunt pale Gerridaan like the rest of Carathan’s men, seemed taken aback by this request, as though Carathan had insulted him deeply. He hesitated a moment. Then, seeing the cold severity of Carathan’s expression, he bowed his head and did as he was told. The smoldering look he gave Tanys as he handed her the leather-wrapped bundle recalled to her mind Jorva’s grim words regarding loose ends.

  Tanys unrolled the bundle and found inside it a breathtaking pair of long daggers, forged of black steel and sheathed in twin scabbards of intricately worked blood red leather. A supple belt of black leather bound the pair together. Tanys’ heart leapt as she pulled one from its sheath, admiring the swirling patterns of folded black steel in a blade obviously forged by a master. Her father had spoken of such blades, from a time long ago, but she had never dreamed of seeing one. She could only laugh with delight as the sorcerer bade her strap the belt around her waist in acceptance of his gift.

  The steel clasp of a belt that seemed fitted to her hips closed with a soft click, and she again met the dark-eyed gaze of her pallid benefactor. “Thank you!” was all she could say. The man who had handed her the bundle sneered in disdain as he turned his back on her and began climbing the steps back to where his master stood. He froze at the base of the steps, as his companions moved with drawn swords to block the landing above.

  “I’m happy you like the blades, dear girl,” Carathan’s voice was cold as he moved to the railing to look down upon the tall guardsman standing bewildered at the base of the stairs, “they are fitting weapons for my new blood guard.”

  “What?” the guardsman hissed, spinning to face Tanys again, “this she-mongrel your blood guard? I am your man my lord!”

  “You are that no longer, Thael, if ever you were,” Carathan scoffed, tossing a carved ivory tube to the deck at the man’s feet. From the open end of the tube a scrap of parchment protruded. “Did you think I wouldn’t intercept your communications?” Carathan demanded with a weary tone in his voice.

  “My lord,” Thael stammered, “I know nothing of this… I…”

  “Give me the name of the one that bought your soul, Thael, and I will send it quickly to its master.” Carathan’s voice was a dangerous rasp.

  “Voidling bitch!” Thael spat, as he spun again to face the startled Tanys, yanking his sword from its sheath in murderous rage.

  “You’d better kill him, girl,” Carathan said, tiredly, “It’s your job now.”

  Tanys needed no further urging. A flash of black steel brought both blades to her hands and she danced the blade-dance with the ghast named Thael. With an incoherent shriek, the ghast hurled himself toward Tanys, his sword flashing in the eerie half-light of the polar sky. Sidestepping his slash, Tanys raked a black dagger across his arm. The dagger opened a bright gouge in the man’s strange armor. What looked like boiled leather armor proved to be a soft but resilient metal that flexed and moved as easily as heavy cloth.

  Thael laughed harshly as he turned to face her again. This time he thrust high, a reckless jab at Tanys’ face, easily parried, but it was merely a feint. As she raised her arm to block the attack, he shifted his momentum and dropped low, sweeping Tanys’ legs with a spinning kick that sent her crashing hard to the deck on her back.

  With a howl of triumph, Thael swung his blade down upon the fallen girl. The wooden planks of the deck splintered beneath the blow as Tanys rolled barely clear of it. On her feet again, Tanys silently vowed never to underestimate an opponent again. Their blades clashed once more, and they parted. The armor covering Thael’s ribs bore a long silver gash, and the silk covering Tanys’ left forearm hung open in a long slash, a bright red streak across her skin marking where the ghast’s blade had touched. Tanys cast a withering glance toward the pale sorcerer who had dressed her in a silken nightshirt before pitting her in battle against a man clad in liquid steel. Then Thael lunged again.

  “I’ll feed your tripe to the dinghasts!” he spat, as she turned his thrust and clipped his ear with the pommel of her dagger as he passed. Roaring again, he came in high, and Tanys moved to parry the blow. This time, however, she was prepared when he reversed the swing, spinning his sword into an upward thrust. She jumped clear of the disemboweling strike then leapt in, delivering a shattering kick to the side of his knee.

  Thael shrieked in agony as he collapsed to the deck, lashing out wildly with his sword to keep the raven girl at bay. “You’ll pay for that, rat-whore!” he screamed through his tears. Tanys timed the speed of his swings and stepped in quickly, catching the flat of his blade against her thigh and breaking his wrist with the back of her dagger’s blade as she levered his sword from his grasp. She kicked the sword across the deck, and it disappeared over the edge. Sheathing a dagger, she stepped behind the fallen ghast, grabbing a handful of his silvery hair and pulling hard, forcing him to face Carathan as she pressed the edge of her other blade to Thael’s throat.

  Suddenly a look of panic filled the man’s face and he began to beg, “No Milady! Please, I can still win!” His eyes were wide with terror and his good hand clawed at his collar.

  “Milady?” Tanys scoffed, “What happened to ‘rat-whore’?”

  “He’s not talking to you,” Carathan shouted warningly, a touch of fear in his voice, “Get clear of him girl! Get clear!”

  Tanys looked down in confusion at the man squirming in her grasp. Thael continued to claw at the opening of his collar, now pulling it away to reveal a red crystal pendant that hung on a gold chain around his neck. The crystal glowed like fire, and it was sinking into the man’s chest like a hot coal on ice. “Nooooo! Please, Mistress!” the doomed ghast screamed. Tanys dropped him to the deck and scrambled away, muttering charms of protection from dark wizardry.

  Thael lay writhing on his back, clawing at the smoking hole in his chest and screaming for what seemed an eternity as Tanys looked on in horror. Then, with an inhuman howl, he died as his chest exploded apart, flinging gobbets of blood and viscera across the deck. Tanys shuddered, wondering what powers could do such a thing to a man, and she wiped a drop of his blood from her face as she returned her dagger to its scabbard.

  “It’s not over yet!” Carathan warned from his perch in the forecastle. He pointed with a thin finger to a patch of entrails that hung, dripping from the railing at the edge of the deck. It seemed to loop and coil now with impossible life. Tanys watched in revulsion as she realized it was growing and taking on a hideous new form. All around the deck, Theal’s gory remains were reanimating, reforming into twisted, long-limbed demonic shapes. Nine in total, the blood devils rose to do battle. Their bodies were hunched and thin, bundles of dead nerves and sundered organs. Their faceless heads, merely cones of flesh from which long, pointed tubes protruded, their hollow ends dripping and slurping wetly as they advanced in search of living blood.

  Tanys’ only memory of demons, a dark
blur of childhood terror, screams, and blood on the walls of her father’s cabin, returned to her mind from some half-forgotten place. The sight of these soulless fiends drove her mad with an ancient rage. Something from the dawn of time, a primal need to destroy the Other, now boiled in her veins. With a wordless howl, the huntress of the Raven Tribe sprang upon the nearest demon.

  The demon’s body landed in three pieces, each yards away from the others, and Tanys’ knives flashed again, rending the second monster apart before it had time to finish forming. By now, Carathan’s remaining three guardsmen had moved to engage the demons nearest their master, but no one stood between the fiends and Misha who cowered in the hatchway, too terrified to work the latch to the heavy oaken door leading below decks.

  “Help her!” Carathan shouted in panic. He swept a thin sword from the scabbard at his belt and began to chant in a strange, melodic language, as he leapt down from the upper deck, but three of the beasts moved to intercept him before he could reach the Leddite girl.

  Two demons were hunched over the girl when Tanys reached the hatchway. Plunging her dagger through a demon’s back, she lifted it clear of the girl and hurled it hard and far over the side of the ship. Tanys ripped the second demon clear of the struggling girl, and its long proboscis flicked drops of blood as it pulled free of the small round hole it made in Misha’s chest. Tanys sunk her blade to the hilt in the demon’s head, and twisted hard, killing it instantly.

  Misha swooned and Tanys caught her in one arm. The girl’s delicate fingers were sticky with the dark blood that ebbed from her wound, staining the shreds of her silken dress. Confusion filled the girl’s eyes as Tanys lowered her gently to the deck. “My lord Carathan,” she whispered, “where is he?”

  Tanys turned to see the man, still battling the demons that barred his path to the injured girl. Carathan’s spells danced like blue flame on his wizard’s blade, and a bright spark of blinding blue light leapt out when he touched one of the beasts. The demon fell dead upon the deck, with the scent of burned flesh roiling in black clouds from the steaming remains. The remaining demons faltered not at all, driving Carathan and his men back, each fiend larger now than they were moments before.