Leslie Moore - Griffin's Shadow

Light’s pretty dim, it must be near sunset. That means I’ve been out at least a day…Ai Goddess, the attack! It’s over now, of course…Sadaiyo held them off, surely…Sadaiyo had to have…he had to!

Struggling against the pain that threatened to send him back into the embrace of the darkness, he levered himself up to a sitting position and looked around.

An awning of dirty canvas swayed overhead, supported by two poles driven into the ground at its front edge. The back and sides were secured to a three-sided enclosure made of the slender trunks of sapling trees. Loosely woven matting attached to the saplings served as a screen; whether to foil curious eyes or keep him ignorant of what lay beyond his prison, Ashinji could only guess.

A pair of guards sat on stools at the front of the enclosure, their backs to him, the slump of their shoulders speaking eloquently of their boredom and absolute belief in his helplessness. Ashinji, much to his surprise, found himself taking offense at the guards’ offhand attitude toward him, then the absurdity of such feelings struck him and he couldn’t help but laugh.

I am helpless, he thought. And wounded. And totally alone.

One of the guards heard Ashinji’s bleak expression of mirth. He twisted around on his stool and peered into the gloom of the makeshift cell. “Hey Trip, I think he’s awake,” he said to his companion.

“Hey, tink! You awake in there?” the other guard called out.

Ashinji considered feigning continued unconsciousness, but he was desperately thirsty and he hoped these two had orders, at the very least, to see to his basic needs.

“Please, may I have some water?” he asked, and silently cursed the weakness of his voice.

“Go get him some water.”

The one called Trip heaved himself to his feet, and grumbling under his breath, stumped off. The remaining guard continued to stare into the enclosure, searching the shadows. “We’d all heard you spoke Soldaran,” he said. “Her Ladyship’ll be happy you’re still alive. Soon as Trip’s back with the water, I’m off to fetch her.”

Ashinji didn’t bother with a reply. Instead, he lay back on the crude mattress and curled up on his uninjured side. I might still be alive now, but for how long? he thought. His entire left arm and shoulder throbbed with brutal intensity. A ferocious headache and queasy stomach only compounded his misery. He knew a poisoned wound could bring an ugly death, and he felt sick with dread.

Even with their far more sophisticated knowledge of anatomy and physiology, despite the advantages of medical sorcery, elven doctors could not stop the advance of putrefaction once it had progressed past a certain point. Ashinji had little confidence in the Soldaran camp surgeon’s ability to save him if his wound turned bad.

Trip returned carrying a waterskin. He had to stoop to enter the enclosure. With a sniff, he dropped the waterskin next to Ashinji’s head. Too weary and sick to move, Ashinji closed his eyes. He could feel the human’s presence like a dim light flickering over him.

“Why you staring at him like that? C’mon, get outta there!” Trip’s fellow guard growled.

“Just curious, is all,” Trip muttered. “’Aint never seen a tink up close before. Think the priests are right about ‘em?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. Now come out and sit down. I’m going to fetch her Ladyship.”

Ashinji both felt and heard Trip’s retreat to his stool outside the enclosure. He opened his eyes and reached for the waterskin. It took every bit of energy he had to lift himself upright, uncork the waterskin, and raise it to his lips. Despite his raging thirst, his stomach rebelled after only a few small sips and he had to stop drinking lest he vomit up what little water he had managed to consume. He lay down to wait.

For a time, his mind drifted in retreat from the emotional anguish of all that had befallen him. He wanted to let go completely, but the thought of never seeing Jelena again held him back.

“Ashinji Sakehera.”

The sound of his name brought him out of the fog. He rolled over and saw Thessalina crouched at his side, eyes narrowed, lips twisted in a frown.

“You look worse now than when my men first brought you in.” She made a low rumbling sound deep in her throat, a noise Ashinji interpreted as an expression of anger. “That surgeon is little more than a butcher, but he’s all we’ve got out here.”

“If the wound stays clean, I will live,” Ashinji replied. Each word took a tremendous effort to form. “Tell me…tell me about the attack,” he whispered.

“Your people fought bravely, just as you said they would. Your general proved more clever than I’d expected, considering his first blunder. He had the superior position and so was able to hold us off. I finally had to call a retreat.”

Ashinji nearly sobbed with relief. He struggled to sit up, but Thessalina pushed him back down with gentle hands.

“Don’t,” she said. “Just lie still and listen to me…My commanders wanted me to force you to talk, and at first, I agreed, but now…” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Now, I find that I lack the stomach for it.”

Ashinji stared at her, confused. He had expected Thessalina to demand all his knowledge of Sadaiyo’s tactics and the size and deployment of the elven forces. He had also expected threats of torture. Thessalina’s confession took him by surprise. She seemed strangely conflicted, almost as if she felt sympathy for his plight.

Her dark eyes searched his. “Even if I had given the order to torture you, you wouldn’t have told me anything useful anyway, would you?”

“No,” Ashinji answered.

“I thought as much…By all the gods, I’m going to pay a heavy price for this decision,” she said.

“What are you going to do with me?” Ashinji asked, for the third time.

Thessalina remained silent for a long time. When at last she spoke, Ashinji heard what sounded like regret in her voice. “I can’t send you back to your people. My commanders won’t allow it. They’d have you killed first. I dare not go against them any more than I am already. They only choose to follow me out of respect for my father, not for any special loyalty they have for me. My position is still very tenuous, and this act of mercy,” she shook her head as if in disbelief of her own actions, “will infuriate them. I’m risking a lot…but I must do what I think is right. I won’t be responsible for your murder. If that means I’ll have to fight to keep my command, then so be it. I have a few allies…and the power of the duchy behind me.” She paused, then added, “I…I’m really very sorry you and my cousin will be separated.” She seemed genuinely surprised by her last words.

From everything Jelena had told him about Thessalina, he had expected no quarter from her

Maybe she’s not quite the stony-hearted bigot Jelena thinks she is.

“I can’t let you go, but I can’t keep you prisoner, either,” Thessalina continued. “We are about to push our offensive and I won’t have time to think about or deal with you so I’ve arranged to have you taken off my hands.” She stood and the top of her head just brushed the underside of the canvas awning. “A slaver named Marcus is in the area. He specializes in…exotic types. I’m selling you to him.”

Ashinji shivered as the meaning of her words sank into his tired mind. “You…you are making me a… slave ?”

Thessalina nodded. “Look at it this way. I’m giving you a chance…a chance to live. If you’re very, very lucky…well, only the gods know.” She spun on her heel and made as if to leave, then paused and turned back to gaze down at him. “The priests tell us that elven beauty is a trap to catch the unwary,” she said. “They say that your kind weave spells to ensnare us so you might steal our souls because you have none. They say elves are jealous of humans because we have souls…and we are superior for having them.”