Sevenfold sword necroman.., p.23
Sevenfold Sword_Necromancer, page 23
“I don’t know,” said Calliande.
“My other selves,” said Tirdua. “Are…they different women? Or are we all the same woman living different lives?”
“I don’t know that, either,” said Calliande. “I suspect it may be a distinction without a difference. But we can draw two conclusions.”
“What are they, then?” said Tirdua. She looked hopeful and desperate. Like a woman dying of thirst who had suddenly found a cup of water. Calliande felt a pang of sympathy. Tirdua must have spent her life wondering who she really was, how she could do the things that she could do, who her parents really had been. And then to suffer constant nightmares of her own death, to dream constantly of a man with gray eyes…
“First,” said Calliande. “I think your seven selves used to be one woman. Something happened to break your spirit into seven pieces. When that happened, I would wager that seven infants with mismatched eyes appeared across Owyllain. Tamlin’s mother found one. Theseus found you. Likely the same thing happened to the other five.”
“One woman,” murmured Tirdua. “Why would I do that to myself?”
“You think you did it to yourself?” said Calliande. “That it wasn’t something that happened to you?”
“I…don’t know,” said Tirdua. “Truly, I don’t. Yet it sounds right. I think…I think I did do this to myself, but I don’t know why.”
“I did something similar to myself,” said Calliande.
Tirdua raised her eyebrows. “You split yourself into seven pieces?”
“No,” said Calliande. “I was born over two hundred years ago, when Andomhaim fought a powerful kindred called the Frostborn. We defeated the Frostborn, but I saw that a wizard called Shadowbearer would summon the Frostborn again when the time was right. I put myself into a magical sleep to awaken and face him again, but I also removed my memory and hid my power so Shadowbearer could not find them.” Calliande shook her head. “When I awoke, it was so…frustrating. I knew things, but I couldn’t remember how I knew them. But if I hadn’t done it, the Frostborn would have destroyed Andomhaim.”
“So you did it to yourself for a good purpose,” said Tirdua. “Why would I do this to myself?”
“I don’t know,” said Calliande, “but that is my second conclusion. Whatever your reason, I think it has something to do with the Seven Swords and the New God.”
Tirdua frowned. “I’m not Swordborn.”
“No, but it’s too much of a coincidence, isn’t it?” said Calliande. “Seven Swords, seven Maledicti, seven spikes in the symbol of the New God…and you, split into seven different lives. Tysia’s last words were about the New God. Also, the aura of power around you. It looks a great deal like the aura of magical power I saw around the Guardian Rhodruthain.”
“I’ve never met him,” said Tirdua. Her mouth twisted. “Nor would I ever want to meet him. A traitor is the most loathsome of all men.”
“I think Rhodruthain might have the answers we seek,” said Calliande. “My husband and I have a deal with King Hektor. Once we have helped him, once the Confessor and the Necromancer are overcome, King Hektor will help us reach Cathair Animus. We will force Rhodruthain to send my family and me back to Andomhaim…and we can also force him to tell us what happened to you. Because Rhodruthain had a hand in it, I am certain.”
“You will?” said Tirdua. Her face clouded. “But…I would have to accompany you.”
“Yes,” said Calliande. “If you wish, you can come with us when we leave Trojas.”
If they left Trojas alive, of course. If the Necromancer did not kill them all and leave Gareth and Joachim orphaned.
“I would have to leave my father,” said Tirdua.
“You would,” said Calliande. “But if you do, it will be because Taerdyn is dead and Trojas is free of him. Could you not leave in good conscience then?” She sighed. “Children leave their parents someday. When I see my sons become squires and then knights, when they marry one day…I will be proud of them. But I will also mourn, for I know it means that they no longer need me. Yet that is the nature of things.”
Tirdua nodded. “You are right. If we are victorious…I will accompany you.” She got to her feet. “I think there is something I need to do first before we confront Taerdyn.”
“What is it?” said Calliande, rising as well.
Tirdua took a deep breath. “I think I need to talk to Sir Tamlin.”
Chapter 16: Who You Are
Tamlin drew breath to answer Ridmark, and then he heard the trap door open.
He turned, the morning sunlight spilling across the roof.
Tysia climbed onto the rooftop, her face tight with nervousness.
Tamlin felt his mouth go dry.
No, not Tysia. Tirdua, her name was Tirdua. He had to remember that.
Even if she looked exactly like Tysia, sounded exactly like her, had the same mannerisms and turns of phrase and…
Tirdua walked to join them.
A cool breeze came up from the sea, and it tugged at her dark hair and the hem of her heavy coat. Even in her coat and jerkin, she looked beautiful, and Tamlin wanted more than anything to pull her close and tell her that he was sorry, so sorry, that he hadn’t been able to save her from Khurazalin.
He didn’t, though.
“Lord Ridmark,” said Tirdua. “Can…can I talk to Sir Tamlin alone?”
“Of course,” said Ridmark. He looked at both of them, and then at Tirdua. “You’ll accompany us to the Blue Castra tonight?”
“Yes,” said Tirdua. “I’ve spent my life fighting against Taerdyn. Tonight, one way or another, I will see it done.”
“All right,” said Ridmark. “Be ready to leave at sundown, both of you.”
“I will,” said Tamlin.
Ridmark nodded, crossed the roof, and disappeared down the ladder.
Tamlin gazed at Tirdua for a moment, and she looked back without blinking. He tried to think of something to say.
“I’m sorry,” he said at last. “About the common room. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“It’s all right,” said Tirdua. “I know you didn’t mean any harm. And I’ve seen people die too, Sir Tamlin, people I cared about. If one of them walked into the common room of my father’s inn and didn’t remember me, I would think…I don’t know what I would think.”
“Probably,” said Tamlin, “you would think that it was a trick of Taerdyn’s, or that his dark magic had raised their shades and sent them after you.”
“Probably,” said Tirdua. “So why didn’t you think that?”
“Because I saw you die a long, long way from here,” said Tamlin.
Her expression became haunted.
“No, I’m sorry,” said Tamlin. “Not you. Tysia. My wife. I saw her die in Urd Maelwyn when the Maledictus Khurazalin murdered her. Then I saw you, and…I don’t know. I did not react well.”
“Do not blame yourself,” said Tirdua. “I suppose there is nothing that can prepare you for such an experience.” A familiar dry edge entered her voice. Tysia had sounded the same way when making jokes. “And if there is, Sir Tamlin, you’ve had remarkable teachers.”
Tamlin laughed. “I have. But they didn’t prepare me for that.” He offered a bow. “I crave your pardon. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
She made a dismissive gesture. “As I said, there is nothing to forgive. There is nothing that could have prepared you for meeting me…and nothing that could have prepared me for seeing you in the flesh.”
Tamlin frowned. “What do you mean?”
Tirdua hesitated. “Have you…have you ever had dreams, Sir Tamlin?”
“Everyone has dreams,” said Tamlin, though his tended to be nightmares.
“I don’t mean normal dreams,” said Tirdua. “I mean dreams that come true.”
He thought of the Dark Lady and her warnings.
“Yes,” said Tamlin.
“I have dreamed about you for years,” said Tirdua, “though I knew it not.”
A chill went through Tamlin.
“What do you mean?” he said.
“I dreamed of my death,” said Tirdua. “I couldn’t move, and someone stabbed me from behind. I saw you in front of me, screaming, threatening whoever had stabbed me, and then I died in your arms.”
It took Tamlin a moment to find his voice. “That’s…that’s how it happened. That’s how Khurazalin killed my wife. He caught us by surprise and trapped us both in a spell of paralysis. Then he stabbed Tysia from behind. It was like he was afraid of her, afraid of what she might do if she realized what was happening.”
At the time, that hadn’t made any sense. Tysia hadn’t been any threat to Khurazalin. But now…Tamlin had found a woman identical to her hundreds of miles from Urd Maelwyn, a woman with strong magic. Tysia had been a remarkable woman in every way, but Tamlin was beginning to realize that there had been far more to her than he had known.
Likely there had been far more to her than Tysia herself had known.
Just why had Khurazalin killed her? Tamlin wished he could have torn the secret from the undead Maledictus before he had met his final death in the great hall of the Palace of the High Kings. Perhaps Justin Cyros had known as well, though all his secrets and all his plans had died with him upon the blade of Ridmark’s sword.
“And then in the dream,” said Tirdua, “I said something to the man with the gray eyes, but I could never understand it…”
“Find me again,” said Tamlin. “The New God is coming.”
“That was it,” said Tirdua. “I knew it not until Lady Calliande told me those words.”
“The dreams,” said Tamlin. “The dreams where you see me and you die. How long have you had them?”
“About three years,” said Tirdua. “Three and a half, now.”
Tamlin nodded. That was how long ago Khurazalin had murdered Tysia.
“I have dreams of other deaths, Sir Tamlin,” said Tirdua.
He hesitated. “Am I in those dreams as well?”
“No,” said Tirdua. “I am always alone. Sometimes I drown in a shipwreck. Another time I am torn to death by urvaalgs. In still another, I am burned alive.” She took a ragged breath. “For years, I have had nightmares about five different deaths, and you are in only one of them.”
“I don’t understand what it means,” said Tamlin.
The next time the Dark Lady appeared to him, he was going to demand answers. How could she not have told him about this?
“Lady Calliande thinks she knows,” said Tirdua, “and I believe she speaks the truth. At least, her words ring true to me.”
“What does she say?” said Tamlin. “The Keeper is usually right about matters of magic.”
Tirdua gazed at him as Tysia had once gazed at him. “She thinks that your Tysia and I might be the same woman. Or, rather, that we are shards of the same woman.”
“Shards?” said Tamlin, and his eyes flicked over her. “Everything looks like it’s in one piece.”
A flush went over her face. She had liked that. Tamlin knew she had liked that because he had seen Tysia react the same way many times.
“Do not be playful,” said Tirdua, though she smiled as she said it. “This is serious, Sir Tamlin.”
“I have never been more serious in my life,” said Tamlin.
She smiled, but it faded as she kept speaking. “The Keeper thinks that Tysia and I and the others whose deaths I have dreamed of were all once the same woman. Then something happened to shatter our soul into seven pieces, and those seven pieces were reborn as seven women scattered across Owyllain.”
“Then…are you Tysia?” said Tamlin, thoroughly confused. Tysia had told him to find her again, which Tamlin had never thought would happen. Yet if he had somehow found her again, he had expected to find answers. Not more questions. “Or…a different woman who shares part of her spirit?”
“I don’t really know,” said Tirdua. “The Keeper thought that Rhodruthain did this to me.”
“Oh,” said Tamlin.
“You don’t sound surprised,” said Tirdua.
“I’m not,” said Tamlin. “Rhodruthain betrayed Kothlaric and did nothing when the High King was trapped in magical crystal within Cathair Animus. He summoned Lord Ridmark and Lady Calliande here, and he brought their children. Two boys, eight and three years old, and Rhodruthain put them in danger for no better reason than to motivate the Shield Knight and the Keeper to fight.” Though if that had been Rhodruthain’s plan, as Archaelon, Rypheus, and Justin Cyros could attest, it had succeeded wildly. “It doesn’t surprise me that Rhodruthain would do this to you for some twisted reason. When Ridmark and Calliande find him, Rhodruthain will have much to explain. For what he’s done to Owyllain, for what he’s done to the Shield Knight and the Keeper, and for what he’s done to you.” He shook his head. “I wish…I wish that I had known…”
Tirdua frowned. “Known what?”
“Who Tysia really was,” said Tamlin. “Perhaps she had a husband and children before Rhodruthain…tore her into seven parts. If I had known that, I would not have married her, and…”
“No,” said Tirdua. “Do not say that.” Her eyes flashed. “She loved you with all her heart.”
“How do you know that?” said Tamlin.
She hesitated, and the next sentence came out of her in a rush. “Because I don’t dream of just my death. Her death. Whichever. I see you in other dreams, too.”
Tamlin frowned. “What other dreams?”
“Ones like this,” she said, and she stepped forward and kissed him.
A shiver went through Tamlin, and his arms closed around her. It was a surreal and wonderful experience. Surreal, because this wasn’t Tysia. Wonderful, because it felt just like her, and her lips were warm and her body firm against his, and…and…
She broke away and stepped back, but she was smiling.
“Dreams that start like that,” said Tirdua.
“Oh,” said Tamlin at last. He wasn’t sure that he could have managed anything more eloquent.
“I’ve never kissed a man before,” said Tirdua. “But I have. I’ve kissed you before. It felt just that way in the dream. I…” She blinked a few times and shook her head. “You and Tysia were married.”
“Yes,” said Tamlin. “That’s all I ever wanted, to escape from Urd Maelwyn and take her with me.” He snorted. “Suppose I got half of what I wanted.”
“But if I am Tysia and Tysia was me,” said Tirdua, “then does that mean we are married?”
Tamlin couldn’t have named the emotion that went through him. Hope? Longing? Joy? Stark confusion? Lust? At least that one was easy to identify.
“I…I don’t know,” said Tamlin at last.
“I never thought I would wed,” said Tirdua. “I thought I would die in service to the King’s Men.” Her eyes met his, one blue, one silver. “But…the idea doesn’t displease me, Sir Tamlin. Those dreams, the good ones…I think I might like them to become a reality.”
“I do, too,” said Tamlin. “But this is all…”
“It is too soon. Too strange,” said Tirdua, and he nodded. “But once we are victorious, once we have slain Taerdyn and freed Trojas, I would like to talk to you some more.”
“Yes,” said Tamlin. “I would like that, too.”
###
Ridmark descended to the common room.
Kyralion stood guard near the door, along with two of the King’s Men. Theseus had sent word to the members of the King’s Men who were fit to fight. Tonight, they would gather at the King’s Forum when Zenobia opened the door, and they would join Ridmark and the others as they stormed the Blue Castra. Ridmark wasn’t sure that was a good idea. He had no doubt the remaining King’s Men were capable fighters, but enemies like Taerdyn and Qazaldhar might be beyond their reach.
Still, Trojas was their city, not Ridmark’s, and they knew the risks just as well as he did. He had no right to tell them not to fight in defense of their home.
Or to die in defense of their home, as it happened.
Kalussa lay on one of the benches against the wall, snoring softly. She had curled up around the Staff of Blades. Krastikon sat in a wooden chair near one of the hearths, his left hand resting atop the haft of his war hammer, a cup of tea in his right hand.
Ridmark sat across from him. “Sir Krastikon.”
“Lord Ridmark,” said Krastikon. “A strange thing, is it not? For Tamlin’s wife to have been…reborn, it seems, here in Trojas.”
“Calliande thinks she wasn’t reborn,” said Ridmark. “She thinks that one woman’s soul was torn into seven pieces and reborn in seven different bodies. They might possibly share memories. She also thinks the Guardian Rhodruthain did it for some reason or another.”
Krastikon considered that for a moment.
“That,” he said at last, “is the damned strangest thing I have ever heard.” He shrugged and took a sip of tea. “But, well. Strange is a matter of perspective. My father carried a Sword that could tear open chasms in the earth, and Taerdyn carries a Sword that can raise hosts of the dead. Compared to that, a murdered woman reborn in seven different bodies seems almost normal.”
“Almost,” agreed Ridmark. “Why didn’t you tell us you were in love with the Princess?”
Krastikon gave no sign of embarrassment. “Noticed that, did you?”
“A little obvious, I’m afraid,” said Ridmark.
“Would you have believed me?” said Krastikon. “Everything I told you was true. The New God must be stopped. The Necromancer must be stopped. I thought my father was the man with the best chance of victory, but now I believe it to be you. My duty has not changed.” He shook his head. “But if I had told you I wanted to come to Trojas to save the life of a remarkable woman who has come to mean a great deal to me…God and the saints, that would be too trite to be believable.”
“Trite or not, it appears to be the truth,” said Ridmark.
“Yes,” said Krastikon.
“What did your father think of that?” said Ridmark.
They said nothing for a while.
