Michael Foster - She Who Has No Name

‘Ah!’ Sir Ferse returned. ‘I haven’t had the pleasure of speaking with you yet, young Lord Samuel. This journey is so demanding on us physically that it leaves little energy for the common pleasures of conversation. Master Celios demands so much of my time. I was hoping to corner you eventually for a friendly chat-but it seems you have beaten me to it.’

Samuel was taken aback, for he had not heard more than a few words from the man before. Despite the friendly tone, there was just something disconcerting about the nuances of this man. On top of that, Samuel had the feeling he had met or seen him before and hearing Sir Ferse speak only reinforced the feeling. He was very good at recalling names and places, but in this instance he drew a blank. ‘You know who I am?’

Sir Ferse raised a quizzical eyebrow. ‘How does one not know the Saviour of Cintar? Any magician who can achieve as much as you have must,indeed,be great, Samuel. And I’m sure you are destined for even greater things. Wouldn’t you agree?’

The statement had Samuel feeling awkward. ‘I’m not sure. What do you mean?’

‘Oh, don’t be coy. The city itself talks about you. Your two young friends are quite gifted, yes, but they don’t hold a candle to you-oh, no. Why else would the Paatin Queen want to meet you? To see the best, of course!’

Samuel shifted in his boots, trying to ascertain what the man was on about. Such unabated flattery was not something to which he was accustomed and the words just kept rattling from the man’s tongue before Samuel could garner a decent response. ‘Well, I’m not sure about that.’

‘What’s that? They haven’t told you? Well, I can understand why. It would do no good to risk spoilingit foryou, or letting you get a big head about it. YourOutlander modesty is part of your charm.’ Samuel did not know where to look, for he was altogether embarrassed by Sir Ferse’svolleyof compliments. He was already regretting his decision to speak to the manwhenSir Ferse stepped closer and lowered his voice so as not to be overheard. ‘You know, I heard something very interesting about you, Samuel-something I think only you can confirm for me. They say that when the Emperor died, someone was holding the Elder Staff. Some say itisquite uncanny how those dreadful Gartens managed to sidestep the Emperor’s magical shielding just at that critical moment, when he had been unassailable time and time again before that. Some people say it was you, holding theStaff, Samuel. Imagine that. Why would they say such a thing?’

Samuel stepped back and felt the colour drain from his face. ‘I…I…well-’ he muttered, not knowing what to say.

‘I’m sure it’s only speculation, my dear young friend,’ said Sir Ferse,with a dismissive wave of his hand, ‘and we shouldn’t jump to conclusions based on speculation now, should we? Even so, it would be interesting to know the truth of the matter, wouldn’t it-to be a fly on the wall of the palace that day?’

Just then, Master Celios turned from his conversation with Grand Master Tudor and came scampering over with alarm at the sight of Samuel and Sir Ferse conversing.

‘For goodness’sake, Sir Ferse. How many times must I tell you not to bother anyone? Every word you speak is pain to my ears! Come away from poor Samuel,’ and with that Celios dragged the protesting Sir Ferse away by the arm.

‘Samuel,’ Goodfellow said, arriving at his side just as the other two peeled away. ‘You look like you’ve seen a ghost. What’s wrong?’

Samuel, in turn, took Goodfellow’s arm and led his friend away from the small clearing to the base of the trunk of the nearest great pine that grewa fewyards away. ‘Sir Ferse,’ he began. ‘He knows about me.’

Goodfellow was confused. ‘He knows what? What do you mean?’

Samuel looked about for any eavesdroppers, but the Koians were already in their tents and the soldiers were engaged in their duties. ‘He knows I killed the Emperor.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Samuel. You didn’t kill the Emperor. The Gartens did.’ Then he lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Perhaps he knows that we had planned to kill him? Some of the old Masters could have talked. Grand Master Anthem was afraid of that.’

‘No. I did kill the Emperor.’ But Goodfellow only looked perplexed. ‘I haven’t told a single soul about it, so everyone thinks the Gartens were responsible. You weren’t there, but I actually got my hands on the Staff of Elders. I used it to remove the Emperor’s defences. If it weren’t for me, the Emperor would still be alive now. No one knows except Grand Master Anthem and even he has never mentioned the fact since that day.’

Goodfellow took a moment to digest what he had heard. ‘But, I thought the Gartens killed the Emperor?’

‘I know, you dimwit, but only because of me!’

Samuel immediately regretted raising his voice to his friend and took a moment to calm himself.

‘Very well. I believe you. So how does Sir Ferse know about it?’ Goodfellow asked.

‘I don’t know. Perhaps he didn’t, butfromthe way I reacted, I’m sure he knows now, for certain.’

‘Do you think he will tell anyone? I mean, he is a Turian, isn’t he? So he wouldn’t be very pleased about you killing the Emperor.’

Samuel shook his head. ‘I don’t know. I guess we have to wait and see.’

Ghostly scenes haunted Samuel’s dreams that night as he tossed and turned under his blankets. He saw two cloaked figures, barely more than shadows dancing on the landscape, as they hopped madly amongst an ocean of foes. Dark faces leered and screamed, and they followed the elusive pair with a thousand swords. But no matter how many of the wild desert-men came after the pair, the two seemed untouchable and flew about like rags upon the wind, cutting their way into the north.

The vision faded and he saw a figure waiting for him, sitting on a padded chair. It was a woman and she looked up, as if noticing Samuel watching her through the dream. Her face was elusive and seemed to change with the moment. At first,it was an unknown woman, beautiful in every way. He knew he should know her, but for some reason he could not recall her name. Worry was on her face. She looked closely at Samuel and,as her skin darkened,she became sultrier and more seductive, with a knowing smile upon her lips. Her features slidawayand she was now Empress Lillith, smiling contentedly at theboyin her arms. Her hair fell into golden tresses and she laughed brightly as her features shifted again. Although the woman at first seemed a stranger, he knew it was Jessicah.

He had not seen his cousin since they were both barely into their teens, but he knew from her laugh alone that this woman was Jessicah, grown into her prime. Just thinking about her reassured him and took him away from other dark thoughts, for she was his bastion of self-the only thing he had not lost in his sorry life. He had not seen her for many years, but in his dream he realised he had perhaps avoided her purposefully; keeping her at arm’s length so she would not be lost like the rest of his loved ones. Just knowing she existed was enough.

She held her arms wide and beckoned for him to come to her, and she hadtransformed intoLeila.

‘ At last, ’ she said to him, ‘ you’ve come. It’s been so long since we’ve been together. Your dreams have been too busy for me. ’

She gave him that warm and loving look that only she could give him, but he could not reply. Something else was tugging at the edge of his dream, keeping him from forming his thoughts. He tried to hang ontoLeila’spresence, but she faded away along with the chair and the room and only a voice called through the darkness.

‘ Father! ’ it called. It was a boy’s voice. Samuel had not heard it in many months, but the calling was never far away; always ready to torment him. ‘ I’m sorry you died. I would put things back the way they were if I could, but everything has changed. Why do things have to change so much? ’ He could never tell if it was his own voice pleading in his head or that of another, but he only wished it would leave him alone. His own father and mother had been killed when he was only a boy, and he missed them more than he could bear, even after all these years. He wished that he could put those feelings behind him, and perhaps the voice would leave his dreams.