The Conjured and the exiles

Daen managed to calm herself down relatively quickly. She had practically ran in to the old woman but managed to swerve at the last moment and fell over her own feet. Somewhat embarrassed she got up and pated herself down. Strangely lady Thett didn’t look the least bit surprised to see Daen there. To Daen Lady Thett looked much like a wrinkled old apple, she had watery eyes and a halo of white flaxen hair which had come lose from her braid. She moved with the careful slow actions of the old. But Daen was not entirely fooled; there was a quickness about the old woman, about her eyes and face that revealed a rapier sharp mind. And there was some instinct which told Daen to be wary around Lady Thett.

‘Lady Thett. I’m sorry are you alright?’

‘Thett was my husband’s name. Call me Umra.’

‘As you will Lady..er..Umra.’ Daen replied.

The old woman had a small doll like figure in her hand and she was busily warping it around with string. ‘It looks a bit like you dear.’ She said and thrust it towards the girl. The doll gave Daen the shivers it was a hideous thing, with a wrinkled head, and witherd limbs why would someone want to carry something like that around was beyond her; the old woman was obviously as cracked as cobble stones.

‘Could you help an old woman out dear?’

Daen didn’t trust the old woman. But how much harm could she be? Darcia wasn’t afraid of her. ‘Of course umm… Umra.’ Daen felt a little nauseous, she wondered whether it had been all the tension or something she had eaten, may be the berries, or the fish?

‘I want you to carry a few things for me my dear.’

She passed the girl a bottle of water, a glass jar filled with nothing at all, an alder sprig and finally she held out a knife. If it could be called a knife rather it was like a flint dagger made out of some kind of shiny black stone. The old woman said what each object was as she passed the odd items over to the dark haired girl.

As Daen took the razor-sharp piece of worked stone Umra coughed. Daen thought that she had said something under her breath. In any case the dagger slipped in her hand leaving a small shallow cut.

‘Ouch!’

‘Oh dear, let me help.’ The old woman protested catching Daen’s fingers in her own, and gently dabbed to blood from the small cut with a white silken handkerchief. Umra then lead her through the warren that was Echostone hall’s south wing until they came to a small room much older than the rest of the building. Daen’s nausea was getting worse, making her feel headachy. Unconsciously she rubbed her temples when she set the objects down on a handy table. Umra noticed this immediately. ‘Oh dear, Darcia said that you wouldn’t be feeling quite the thing. Poorly only a few days ago, hear lay down on this and I will make you some tea.’

Daen sat on the bench as old woman had suggested as Umra busied herself with making some tea. It was strange to see a noble acting in much the same way that the innkeeper’s wife had done. Yet she didn’t feel comforted by the thought it was strange like watching a wolf herd sheep but the pain in her head seemed to be intensifying by the moment making coherent thought a challenge and so with a moan Daen closed her eyes.

Umra watched the girl humming a tune under her breath, waiting for her eyes to close. Quickly poured in the water bottle in to a copper kettle, this was swiftly followed by the alder leaves; she slipped a small packet of herbs from a concealed pocket in her sleeve. Finally she strained the tea with the blood stained handkerchief in to the empty jar.

‘Here you go my dear drink this down. It’s my best herbal remedy.’ The old woman lied easily. Daen took the strange smelling brew as she didn’t want to offend their host but she did so with some reluctance, some inner voice screaming at her to stop but that was droned out in the throbbing pain. Besides Lord Darcia had been very clear that she should do nothing to offend the old woman, not unless she wanted a whole heap of trouble on her hands.

‘I’m sorry I couldn’t find a cup.’ Umra fussed, plumping up her pillows.

‘Oh, no, no that’s fine. Don’t trouble yourself!’ Daen spluttered nervously and then took a sip of the tea; it was dry, and bitter, strange. But its best to humour the mad. Daen smiled weekly. ‘It’s lovely.’

‘It may take a moment to work.’

Daen finished the small portion she had been given then noticed three cups on the side board. Old woman’s as blind as a bat as well as crazy, she thought. The headache seemed a little more numbed. She sighed in relief noticing that the numbness soon felt like it was spreading to the rest of her body making every muscle heavy and lax.

‘I feel exhausted.’

‘Well lye back down my dear.’

Daen suddenly felt something was very wrong as more and more of her body became paralysed and not in the figurative sense. ‘What’s going on, where is Lord Darcia?’

‘shsssh shhsssh your just over tired, all that travailing.’

The old woman pushed Daen back down easily. Daen was panicking she couldn’t move, she was been pulled down in to a mire, the more she struggled the more she sank. In horror she watched as her vision faded to black around the edges as the murmurs that had always been since she had arrived here like the music in a tavern weaving under the conversations now roared louder like a chorus of voices right in her ear. And then she faded in to them, drowning as they flowed in to her and she faded to darkness.

Lady Umra lent over the girl Staring in to her wide open eyes, eyes which right now did not see in to this world but other more secret worlds. She pressed a finger to the spot between the girl’s eyes. ‘Awaked Daen, let your third eye see all the colours of the world.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It hadn’t taken Vas very long to find out exactly who Lord Darcia was. Duke of the land of falling lakes, Baron Marchadia, defender of the western passes, of General of the western army, cousin to the emperor, and prince of Bala in summery he was a very rich and powerful lord, not the kind of nobility that you trifled with lightly.

Leoff seemed remarkably unconcerned by this in Vas’s opinion. But then again he was a foreigner, so he didn’t know just how dangerous imperial nobility could be. And it was not just the fact they pretty well monopolised magic use. They monopolised everything. A member of the Arcane court could stab you in plain day light and no one would do anything. Unless you served another noble in some way, and even then it wouldn’t even count as a slap on the wrist for them.

However Leoff’s brain did manage to grasp that Lord Darcia was indeed a dangerous adversary. Not because he was a noble, but his reputed skills as a general and a swords man. When they had been seeking out rumours another gladiator told them about a duel that Lord Darcia had been involved in, he had easily bested and killed Lord Dor’s son. Leoff had looked shocked at that.

‘What’s wrong Leoff?’ Vas asked.

‘I knew him, Lord Dor and his son.’ Leoff’s hazel eyes met Vas’s his expression a mixture of awe and disbelief. ‘Both of them were possibly two of the best swords men I have ever known. If this Lord Darcia bested him in a fair fight then he is a most formidable opponent.’

Further inelegance gathering, using Vas’s smooth conversational skills, and Leoff’s fists as a very effective threat the two men discovered that Lord Darcia was actually away visiting relatives at the moment, but he left his whole staff back in the capital to await his return before going back to his seat in the western mountains before snow came. It seemed that now was the perfect time to go and get Leoff’s sister if they could.

Back at there billet Vas and Leoff laid thinking on their own respective bunks. Vas broke the silence; he liked to think out loud. ‘What I don’t understand is why a noble like him would want your sister in the first place.’

‘I don’t know either.’ Leoff sighed. ‘Who knows with these imperial bastards?’

Vas had a sudden idea. ‘Is she pretty?’

‘I suppose, why?’ Leoff replied wondering what in the world that had to do with it.

‘I don’t want to worry you, I’, sorry I shouldn’t ha’ mentioned it.’ Vas apologised swiftly. Leoff sat up to look at the Clodden speaker.

‘What is it Vas, don’t make me beet it out of you?!’

Vas rolled his eyes. ‘Your not going to like this, but if she is pretty then he might have well you know taken a liking for her. I have heard some nobles do that you know abducting pretty village girls.’

Leoff grew markedly paler, but said nothing until he threw himself down on his tight fitting bunk and turned to face the wall. ‘Go to sleep Vas, we will go get her tomorrow.’

Vas looked at his large friend with some pity. Sometimes looking at the shear size and muscled bulk of Leoff he forgot that he was really still just a boy. Seeing the world in black and white, Vas knew that if Lord Darcia meant to keep Leoff’s sister it would be more complicated getting her back than getting fishing hook out of your own balls with hands covered with oil. Neither man would get much sleep that night.

However that next mourning Vas woke early to find Leoff attempting to pull his shirt over his plate armour. ‘Not conspicuous at all.’ He commented sarcastically.

‘You think of a better way to hide it!’ Leoff said throwing his arms wide in frustration and in the process ripped his shirt and the cursed roundly in Nheimian.

‘You could try using a cloak!’

‘Cer i grafu coc oen!’ The brown haired warrior mumbled under his breath glaring at his bunk mate. ‘I knew that.’

Vas laughed. ‘Some one is not at his best first thing in the morning is he?’


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Veoine was sitting in the library reading a few reports that Kef had sent him. He yawned it was tiring been back in the capital especially with Lord Darcia away. He was left fielding inquires after Darcia as well as his own work. Not to mention all of the old acquaintances he had to catch up with while here it was exhausting. He hoped Darcia would be back soon else they ricked running in to the first snow on the way home.

He looked up as an errand boy in his night shirt entered. ‘Captain Faorin sir, there are some intruders up on the west roof I saw them from my window.’

The blond captain blinked then rubbed his face trying to chase away the tiredness and the wine he had been drinking all evening. ‘Intruders, how many?’

‘Two sir. Should I get the guards?’

‘No, no there’s no sense all of us been up, I’m sure I can handle it.’ Veoine yawned and picked up his sword from in front of him. ‘Go back to bed Rook. I expect that they are just burglars, if they know they have been seen they will probably just run off.’

The boy nodded and ran back the way he came. Probably going to get a good view of what was about to happen. Which was probably nothing if he knew the thief’s of this city; they all knew better than to be caught robbing a noble’s house. They probably thought that while the master was away it was fair game.

He found his way on to the western roof, essentially cutting them off by reaching the flat platform that he had guessed they were heading for. Leaning against the window he waited for them. He didn’t have to wait long.

Sliding rather nosily down the slippery roof tiles were two men. Not very stealthy for burglars Veoine thought. Both men were bigger than Veoine both were built like axe men; one for shear height could have rivalled Kef. They stepped in to the square of light from the open window. There was something familiar about the taller man. And very quickly he saw that neither man was much above his twenty filth year. It was time to scare them off.

Steeping from his hiding place he drew his sword, it flashed gold in the lamp light. ‘That’s far enough boys. I suggest you turn back now.’

Both men froze, but rather than running or even gaping at him like fish as he expected they immediately jumped in to a fighters crouch. ‘So much for been stealthy.’ One said with a rough laugh in a thick Clodd accent. Veoine was even more surprised when they drew their weapons and began to advance upon him.

‘Your making a big mistake boys, have you any idea who your about to fight?’

‘It doesn’t make a bit of difference to me.’ The larger one said grimly drawing an impressive long sword out.

‘So who are you?’ The other man asked more reasonably.

‘I am Captain Veoine Faorin, of the western army’s cavalry, second in command to Marshal Darcia.’ He flashed a dazzling smile and completed a flamboyant flourish with his sword, the light catching the sapphire in its hilt like a flash of blue flame.

The black haired man seemed to blanch. ‘Oh shit Faorin the lightning strike?’


‘Oh so you have heard me.’ Faorin smiled looking down like a woman played a complement.

‘It doesn’t make any difference who he is.’ The tall man practically shouted and he sprung at the captain. Veoine managed to parry the blade, but the man’s weight hit him hard as the tall man practically tackled him. It was like been run in to by a bull and he was sent flying but so was his opponent.

‘Wiping some blood away from his lip where he had bitten himself Veoine stood. ‘Now that’s interesting, you have a demon blade.’

‘How do you know that?’ his opponent spluttered as he readied his guard.

‘Because I have one too.’ Veoine smiled. He showed the boy his hilt; in it the blue gem was not a gem any more but a blue eye much like the captains own.

‘How come you never told me you had a demon sword.’ The smaller man asked the long sword welder sounding somewhat hurt.

‘It never came up.’ The taller man replied. ‘And now really isn’t the time for this.’

‘I’m giving you one more chance.’ Veoine said. ‘You know you cannot beet me don’t you.’

‘I have already had you down on you knees.’ The long sword wielder scowled.

‘So be it.’ Veoine sighed. ‘But I warned you.’

The smaller man came first, Veoine watched, the Clodd had good skills, but Veoine’s Euryale was much too fierce a blade for his sword of just steal. And his saber sliced right through his opponent’s blade, like cutting through butter. The dark haired man jumped back and looked at what was left of his sword in horror.

The tall man attacked now his sword clashing against Veoine’s. The boy was strong, but Veoine spared against Kef on a regular basis, so he could counter strength. They young man was fast to but not as fast as Veoine, the captain was simply enjoying the fight and not taking it very seriously the he slipped in a puddle, his opponent seeking a weakness brought his sword down.

‘Euryale shield.’ Veoine breathed.

The young man looked down to see how much damage his blow had done. The blond man had just been wearing a lose white shirt his blade should have gone right through him! But the man was fine, not a scratch on him. Looking closer he saw what looked like pale golden scales covering the man’s chest and shoulders.

‘You look surprised. Surely you know that a demon can act as a shield as well as a weapon.’ Veoine explained with a laugh. But his eyes then grew serious. ‘Oh I see yours has yet to awaken. I suppose we should end this now.’

Veoine sprang forward, no longer playing, he easily dominated the fight, and the young man was seriously struggling to even keep up his defense. the only thing that saved him from taking some nasty cuts was the plate and lether armour he wore hiden under his cloak. ‘You’re not bad.’

‘Shut up!’ The boy panted.

‘No really you’re not bad at all.’ The blond man twisted his wrist and suddenly the young mans sword was sent spinning in to the air. ‘But this fight is over.’


Back inside where it was warm Veoine was writing yet another missive to his master. This time about the men on the roof, omitting a few details; no rest for the wicked or so they say.

‘Why did you let them go?’ said a female voice that was as bright as a harp note.

‘They didn’t really mean any harm. If it was someone I cared about I would do no less. Besides they were good fighters. Young, stupid, and foolish like I was once.’

‘You’re still young yet.’ Came the reply.

‘Thank you my lovely Euryale.’ He smiled and caressed the hilt of his sword. ‘I suppose I just feel old tonight.’

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Lord Darcia had taken a relaxing bath and read through Veoine’s missive. It was something about a foiled brake in. Apparently they had seen Veoine and ran. Now he wanted to find Dae. He was glad to have something to call her by, even if it wasn’t her true name it was progress. He stood for a moment and sought out her aura closing his eyes his inner senses working like a blood hound fining a sent. ‘Ah there it is.’

He followed the psychic sent to where he found her laying out in a small room on a bench a jar empty but with drops of liquid in it lay on the floor where she had dropped it. He knew immediately that something was very wrong with her the moment he stepped through the door by the chaotic swirling of spirits around her. Belle who was sitting rose to greet the lord.

‘What has happened?’ He demanded of the servant pulling off his mask to reveal his furious expression.

‘She…she… drank some tea….’

‘Who gave her that tea?

"My….. my mistress."

"That old bitch! I'll kill her." Darcia turned and rushed over to Daen, who lay shivering on the bench.

‘Go and get your mistress right now!’ He not quite shouted his voice full of barely suppressed fury. The poor woman all but ran out of the door. It didn’t take long for Umra to appear Belle in tow. ‘What is it?’

Lord Darcia stood to his full height and looked down at his godmother. ‘What have you given her?’

‘Only something to awaken her third eye.’

‘What have you done?!’ he demanded of her.

Umra pointed one knarred finger at her godson. 'Don’t look at me like that boy you intended the same fate for her.’

Darcia’s mouth gaped open. He then shut it firmly and his expression hardened further ‘Not without training, not until she was ready and not using a potion like that.’

Umra shrugged and shook her head answering him in a sing song voice. 'Well if she is as strong as you think she is then she will be fine.’

"Leave us!" Darcia said sharply.

"As you will Lord Darcia." She bowed not really sorry but just a little frightened of the man right now she wouldn’t put it past him to harm her in his wroth. ‘Belle stay here do what you can.’

"Oh little one," Darcia said softly in Chade his own mother tongue, his anger suddenly leaving him and leaving him feeling impotent. "I know you can still hear me. Don't be afraid, my little love." He pushed the hair out of the woman’s green eyes, bending down to kiss her forehead. "None of it can harm you it’s just spirits all they want to do is talk to you they are just dreams nothing more than dreams."

The young woman’s eyes were completely dilated and unseeing. Darcia took hold of his little witch’s hand and brought it to his lips, just holding it there. "This wasn't my intent. Do you understand me Dae?"

He took of his sword and rested on her chest. ‘Bherith guard her mind if you can, if it’s not already to late.’

Having carried Dae to his own room Darcia stood with his back to the wall, his mask now back on its expressionless surface hiding a torrent of emotions. He felt numb. And more afraid than he should, as important as she was to his goals he felt more for her going beyond even simple lust. The fact was from the first moment that he saw her he desired her more than any thing else in the whole of his life. But something held him back, she wouldn’t just be a conquest to discard, he wanted more from her he wanted her complete submission body, heart and soul, and that was something that couldn’t be forced. Now that he knew her better he understod that to win her she must at least have the inlsuion of deciding things for herself. He would catch her like a spider traps a fly, spinning out a net of desire for her to trap and tangle herself in. And she would fight, of that he had no doubt at all, but that was something to be relished as well. But if his godmother had ruined all of that then he would kill her, family or not.

"She’s coming around." Belle said softly.

Darcia rushed to Daen's side, and when he saw the girl sigh and open her eyes which were a little unfocused he felt overwhelmed with relief. She just looked tired she was not raving and manic like he feared.

Darcia hardly noticed when the servant left. He sat next to Daen for hours, attending her. And now he looked at the girl, she still wore the marks of her escape; he had been far too hard on the tiny woman. But there was no point in promising her that he would never do it again because of his own volatile temperament and for the sake of his lands he would be hard on her again and again.

"Darcia," Daen finally whispered. "You don't have to stay with me all night."

"Hush." Darcia put a finger to her lips. "Go to sleep Dae." he whispered, stroking her rich brown hair. Daen drifted off, comforted by her Lord’s touch some how she knew he was even watching over her dreams as well. Darcia stayed by her for a long time. Unwilling to let Umra any where near the girl again or anyone else as a mater of fact; though knowing his crafty godmother that had been her intent all along.