Gail Martin - The Sworn

The leader’s face hardened. “It’s my mission. I decide.”

Zhan took a step back and made a slight, stiff bow. “My apologies. Of course.”

When Varren finally completed his examination, the leader appeared beside him, although Aidane hadn’t seen the vayash moru move. “Well?”

Varren shrugged. “Whoever beat her up meant to kill her, but fortunately, he wasn’t very good at it. Broken bones, punctured lung, blood loss. She’ll probably lose a couple of teeth. She’s a stubborn thing, or she’d be dead by now. And she’s tougher than she looks.”

“How long until we can move?”

“A candlemark. I’ve already healed the lung, and I’ve set the bones to healing, although it’ll take some time. There’s some internal bleeding from the bruises. I’d say whoever hurt her did most of his damage with his boots. That’s what takes a little longer to put right.”

“Understood. I just want to get her across the river.”

“Aye. Let me get to work.”

Varren turned his attention back to Aidane, and this time, he met her eyes. “I know you heard all that. So I’ll make you a deal. I’m going to stop the pain, and you’re going to use whatever magic you have to speed the healing. I know what you are. Open yourself to the ghosts and let them fill you. It won’t hurt as much, and the energy will help you heal. I’ll make sure no one overstays his welcome. Trust me.”

Aidane could only nod. It was taking too much energy to keep up her shielding against the ghosts. They had found her, and once again, they clustered around her. Varren lifted Aidane’s head and dropped a bitter liquid into her mouth. She swallowed, and she felt the elixir burn down her throat. Almost immediately, warmth radiated through her body, blunting the pain. She relaxed, and the ghosts rushed in. Aidane gave herself up to Varren and the ghosts, beyond caring whether she lived or died.

• • •

She awoke in darkness. The stale smell of the caves was gone. Instead, Aidane smelled the loam and leaves of a forest. A light rain was falling. She shivered. “Be still. Stay quiet.” It was the voice of her rescuer, Zhan, the Nargi vayash moru.

“Where are we?” Aidane whispered.

“Nearly to the river. There’s a patrol ahead.”

Surely the vayash moru could fight a mortal patrol, Aidane thought. Then again, leaving a trail of bodies would make it that much harder for them to return to free others, and by the looks of the group, they weren’t new at their game.

Before Aidane could reply, Zhan was slammed backward as a dark figure sprang from the shadows. “Captain! Captain! We’ve got runners! Over here!”

Zhan sprang toward his attacker with a growl, eyeteeth bared. Four more attackers seemed to appear from nowhere, and in the dim light, Aidane realized their betrayal. The attackers were vayash moru.

Aidane scrambled out of the way, amazed her body had healed enough to permit her to move. Whether it was the healing elixir, Varren’s magic, or sheer self-preservation, Aidane found that she could stand on her own, and she pressed back into the shadow of a huge oak, although she knew that its canopy could not hide her from undead attackers.

Across the clearing, she could hear the vayash moru leader swearing fluently in several languages. Swords clanged and blades swished through the air, moving fast enough to be just a blur in the moonlight. Not too far distant, Aidane heard the pounding of feet as the mortals, alerted by the traitors, came running.

They’d been betrayed by vayash moru, but not by any of those who had rescued her. No, these vayash moru were newcomers, and by the way the fight was going, their betrayers weren’t doing well at holding their own.

Just then, an arrow slammed into the trunk of the tree beside her, narrowly missing her shoulder. Aidane bit back a cry of surprise and ducked, running for new cover. More arrows flew, and one of her vayash moru rescuers fell as the shaft took him through the heart. He crumbled to dust before he reached the ground.

“ Rethniris,” the vayash moru leader snarled, bearing down on one of their attackers with a two-handed sword press that would have felled a mortal just in its savage strength. Aidane had heard the term. It meant “blood traitor,” someone who betrayed their essence. And from the look on the vayash moru leader’s face, he held it to be a killing offense.

All around her, swords clanged and arrows flew. Only eight vayash moru had been part of the rescue team, counting the healer. Three had fallen in the attack. Of the four vayash moru traitors, only one was standing, and as Aidane watched, the vayash moru leader disarmed his opponent and went for the kill barehanded, tearing the traitor’s head from his body and throwing it with deadly accuracy at the nearest archer.

I can help. It was a ghost’s voice, and in her mind, Aidane could see the spirit clearly. She was a beautiful Nargi woman with dark, straight hair and luminous eyes.

How?

The soldiers got lucky. They weren’t looking for you. They’re posted at the village near here. That’s where I died. Where we all did.

There were several ghosts now, all young women. We were married or betrothed to those beasts, and they killed us for our dowries or in their drunken rage. Give us our vengeance. Let us fill you, and we’ll call them to their deaths. We’ll lend you our strength.

Aidane hesitated, just a moment.

Or do you want to be captured again? the first ghost asked.

Take me.

Aidane stiffened and arched as the first ghost filled her. It was rougher than usual, but Aidane opened herself without reservation. She saw the ghost’s memories of a thick-set Nargi soldier, a captain, and as the ghost filled her, Aidane remembered the spirit’s death at her lover’s hands as if it were her own. Aidane drew a deep breath and smoothed her hands down over her body, as if the ghost were reassuring itself that it had form. Let’s get them.

Aidane took a step forward, yielding her will to the ghost. The vayash moru leader looked at her in alarm. “What the hell are you doing? Get back!”

Aidane kept going. “Varn! You worthless son of a cheap whore! You murdered me for my father’s money. Come here, I’ve got a little something for you.” Aidane felt the ghost controlling her movements, and she let herself sashay into the dim moonlight that filtered through the trees. “Varn! You bastard son of a goat! Dung eater! Show yourself.” Aidane’s movements were both seductive and threatening, and she knew that the ghost’s possession was so complete that even her facial expressions were not her own.

“Sathrie? Sathrie? Is that you? But you’re dead-”

The mortal captain stood transfixed, staring at the shadow that had become his murdered lover. A moment’s hesitation was all it took for one of the vayash moru to send a sword scything toward the captain at shoulder height, taking his head clean from his shoulders. Blood was still pumping from the stump of his neck as his body collapsed to the ground.

Sathrie’s ghost fled Aidane’s body, and another spirit filled her so quickly that Aidane nearly passed out. Aidane ran for the shadows, only to reappear elsewhere in the glade. “Theddan! You limp-hung rat eater! You were too cheap to hire a healer and you let me die from the pox.” Aidane’s whole stance had changed. Where the last ghost had moved with the seductive grace of a dancer, this new ghost stood with hands on her hips, leaning forward, strident as an angry scullery maid.

“Be gone! I paid to have you buried,” a voice came from the forest. The hail of arrows lessened.

“Not deep enough, you lice-ridden thief. Come taste my maggots. Lie in my grave with me, lover.”

A man cried out, and the cry ended in a strangled groan. Aidane could feel the ghost’s satisfaction as it fled her body. This time, more than one ghost forced their way into her consciousness, and the voices that poured from her throat changed from breath to breath.