Eris' Handmaiden Page 14

The grey-haired woman caught at the female kobold's arm, drawing her to a stop halfway down the steep wooden stair. "Look," she hissed, pointing toward the cage where she'd locked the enemy.
Knutha's eyes grew huge as she looked down into the cellar. Shelves were crowded with stuffed animals, jars holding miscellaneous organs or potions, and dried plants. But if that collection of magery and knowledge were not enough, down below, in a cell created to confine wild animals, lay the red-haired enemy, apparently unconsious. And above her floated the form of a kobold, arms outstretched, looking down at the human woman on the floor.
Waves of fear and anger radiated toward the two spiritworkers from the disembodied kobold. Livilla gritted her teeth and held tightly to the kobold's arm. To move now, no matter the pain they felt from this spirit, would be to break the bond that formed. This spirit was strong in anger, so it would be difficult to establish the rapport with the dead that she often found so easily. If she could not, there was danger to everyone who lived in the village. A rampaging spirit was not a pretty sight.
Livilla lifted her hand, palm toward the ghostly kobold. "I heard your call for Kadatha, and she will be brought here. Will you tell me before she arrives what bound you to this enemy, so that we may ease your travel to your reward?"
The ghostly kobold lifted his head. A wail of pain and anger rang around the walls of the cellar. Livilla felt the trembling of the kobold beside her, and murmured, "We will aid him. We must aid him. It is our duty as servants of Hel."
Knutha grimly nodded, swallowing back fear as the human woman again addressed the shade. "Kadatha will come. We will release you from this enemy, so that you can travel on. Will you tell us how this came to be so that we can help?"
The shriek again rang out. "Maybe him talk tu mes, since he like me," Knutha whispered.
Livilla nodded. "See if he will respond."
Knutha took a step down the stair, spreading her arms wide. "Spirit brudder," she said softly. "Brudder in life an death. Wes here tu help. Yus let us help?"
Half braced in preparation for another unearthly wail, Livilla was surprised to see the spirit kobold slowly rise and turn to face Knutha. His ethereal features remained as they had been in death, a grisly misshapen crater in the side of his head the obvious cause of his destruction. The woman nodded as the kobold spirit worker blinked once, then lifted her hands in greeting. "Spirit brudder, wes here tu help. Tell us how yus ended, so wes can help yus find yur path."
"End...," the spirit repeated, his voice the whisper of dead leaves. "She... struck me." A whispy hand pointed down at the unconscious woman. "Her mind not right. I takes it tu get home."
"To get home," murmured Livilla, nodding slowly. "The spirit took advantage of the woman's mental instability."
Knutha gasped softly as the words made sense. "Yus took her tu get her tu bring yus home?"
"Jaa...," the spirit answered. "She not show me respect of enemy. She... insane. She... hurt. She hurt me. Mes only wanted tu see de ruins dey gots in dem lands. Mes no hurt her. She... she hurt mes. Mes used her to show her dis pain. Pain...," the kobold's spirit drifted to silence.
The sound of footsteps on the floor above made Livilla frown. She glanced to Knutha. "Someone enters." She looked from the kobold female to the spirit, then back again. "Can you speak with him now?"
Knutha nodded silently, her own face marked by a frown. "Me speaks wid him, since hims talking. Maybe dey's back wid Kadatha?"
"Perhaps. I will see." Livilla turned and climbed the stair back to the main room of her home, pausing at the top to touch a relic half-hidden in the frame of the door. With a whispered incantation, she refreshed the ward that protected her life above from her work below. Then she looked at the group that had entered her house.
The kobolds ranged little in height, but greatly in stature. Standing boldly in front with the warrior Darrius was a smaller female. She scowled as she looked around the sparsely furnished house, arms crossed over her chest. When her eyes turned to Livilla, the spiritmistress saw within the brightness a cunning mind. Sharp blades hanging at the kobold's side left little doubt as to the female's chosen path. The female nodded curtly. "Me Kadatha. Why yus bring me here? Me know nuthin about spirits. And me kills enemies."
Livilla sighed, glancing at Darrius, then at Korbel, cringing behind the elder kobolds. "What did you tell her?"
Korbel stepped warily to the side, dipping his head to Livilla. "Me told her bout finding my treasure. Darrius told her dat de lady gots a spirit stuck tu her."
Kadatha nodded, her eyes still on Livilla. "Dey say dis spirit ask for me. Yus know why?"
Livilla shook her head. "I do not. The spirit is full of anger and pain. It now speaks to Knutha." She glanced at Korbel as his soft gasp accompanied her statement. "Yes, he speaks. But we have only begun to work to free him from the prison he has chosen." She looked back at Kadatha. "The spirit asked for you. Will you come and face him?" There was a hint of challenge in her tone, and a small quirked smile. Often those who followed the warrior gods were strangely squeamish in dealing with the followers of Hel. It would be interesting to see how this kobold reacted.
There was no hesitation in Kadatha's response. "Me will talk wid him. Den me gets back tu killing enemies." The frown never left her face as she stepped forward. "Where dis spirit at?"
Livilla gestured to the doorway. "In my cellar. I will accompany you." She looked at the remaining kobolds. "Stay here. If we have need of you, I will fetch you."
Darrius nodded, grimacing as he sat on the floor and pulled free a whetstone in preparation to sharpening one of the many weapons he carried. Korbel's eyes widened, and he nodded his understanding slowly. "But she my treasure," Livilla heard him whisper as she turned to guide Kadatha to the cellar.
Kadatha's face paled to a greyish blue as she saw the form hovering over the red-haired human. "No," she whispered. She took another step closer to the kobold still standing on the stair.
"Dis be yer brudder," Knutha whispered. "He in pain."
Kadatha nodded numbly. Memories of the past, of youth and free spirit, then of imprisonment and separation, and then her own pain flashed through her mind. "Why he here?" she finally asked.
"He come back," Knutha answered. "Best way he can."
Kadatha made her way to the bottom of the stair, staring at the floating form. The kobold spirit had quieted, watching her, becoming more solid in appearance the closer she approached. "Kadatha," he finally moaned. "I home."
"Yes, me brudder," she whispered. "Yus leave dis humin."
"We will help release him," the elder woman said curtly, making her own way down the stair. "But the Christian must be awake."
Kadatha nodded, fingering the hilt of a sharp blade. "Den she pay fer killin him."
Livilla glanced to the kobold, then shrugged. "Your family, your payment for the death, of course." She looked back to the kobold spirit drifting in the cell. "His pain was great, to cause such a binding."
"Hers be greater," Kadatha muttered. She tapped a finger on the hilt of the blade. "Yu free him now?"
The elder woman nodded, then stepped up to a heavy oak cabinet. A tug on a drawer pulled it open with the sound of aged wood sliding. She reached in and withdrew manacles, which clinked hollowly as she moved to the metal cage. A key from her pocket worked the lock, then the door swung open, screeching on its hinges. Wordlessly, she bent and turned Sinaedh over, pulling her hands back and binding them behind her. She then glanced to the kobolds. "Sit her up while I prepare."
Small blue hands tugged the unconscious form to a sitting position, her head lolling back and supported by two of the bars of the cage. The spirit form drifted high over Kadatha, ghostly fingers reaching out to her as Livilla returned, a small vial and a larger canister in her hands. "Stay beside me," she said to the kobolds as she placed the canister next to the unconscious woman. She opened the small vial carefully, then waved it under the woman's nose, then turned the vial to wet a fingertip with the fluid within. She traced her finger down one side of the woman's face, then the other, and then wet her finger to draw a line of the fluid down the middle of her face, from forehead to chin.
With a gasp, Sinaedh woke, her eyes flickering open then widening as she stared blindly. "Who?"
An unearthly wail left the spirit kobold. "She kill me!"
"Hold her in place," Livilla instructed the kobolds. Sinaedh felt two pairs of hands on her arms, and heard the rasping sound of the canister opening. Murmuring softly in words arcane to even the kobolds, Livilla withdrew a bundle that sent a pungent odor throughout the small cellar. As her incantation continued, the woman passed the bundle over Sinaedh head to foot, then left to right.
Sinaedh gasped as the odor of the bundle came to her, then choked as it became stronger. As the woman spoke strange words, it seemed as if her face began to burn. She caught her breath as the feeling of burning raced from her head down to her feet, then washed over her. "No!" she moaned softly. "Dear God, help me!"
The pain increased as the woman's arcane phrases grew louder. "No!" Sinaedh gasped again, trying to move, to do anything that would ease the burning pain. She was held in place, her hands bound behind her, the kobolds holding her arms firmly. "No!" she screamed as the burning grew in intensity, seeming to move from her skin through her muscles and bones toward her heart. She stiffened as bands of fire wrapped around her chest, squeezing.
Livilla continued to chant, the volume of her voice increasing until she was nearly screaming at the red-haired enemy. Above her, she heard the spirit wailing in unison with the moaning of his host. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she continued the incantation, the packet of dried gristle and herbs held over the woman's body, slowly descending to a position over her heart.
Sinaedh screamed as the pain exploded, white light flooding through her brain along with a roaring sound. Every muscle, every nerve was on fire. She shuddered, twitching with the pain, then the white light constricted into a blackness that engulfed her.
She woke to a dull ache throughout her entire body, but a strange sense of peace. She was not alone, she knew, for she could hear small snuffling breaths close by her, and the occasional shift of feet on the earthen floor. But she was more alone than she had been in many months. No more horrific dream images of tall spindley-legged creatures with bulbous eyes. No more ghostly lashes to her back, or clubbings with strangely furred arms; no more pains that were imagined in the dark.
No more visions of Sanders. Sinaedh searched her mind, the pain receding to a dull glow in her muscles and nerves, her one thought of her husband. No, his words were no longer with her, drawing her to action. His face... she could imagine his face, but it was not real as it had been before. No longer did he beckon.
A tear slid down her cheek. He was dead then. Randon hadn't lied. Why had she believed the insane visions she'd had? Why had she doubted her oldest friends? With the realization that her dreams of her husband had been false, her pain returned. Sinaedh moaned softly as each beat of her heart pumped increased torment through her. Her hands twisted into claws, her toes curled tight, her muscles cramped, and each breath was agony that heaved her chest. "My treasure," she heard a soft voice wail from above her.
"She kill my brudder," another voice, closer.
Sinaedh didn't understand all the words, but some made sense through the fire of her pain. Her body arched as muscles contracted, each straining, each pulling. She gasped, willing herself to listen, to draw herself away from the torture, to make it less. If only those around her would speak so that she could understand! If only their words would make the pain go away!
"She dies," the female voice said again. "Dat because of my brudder?"
"She may not die," another spoke. Sinaedh recognized the voice of the old woman, though she did not understand most of the words. "The severing requires herbs that are poisonous, to a degree. Taking the spirit away from the one who has hosted it also affects the mind and body. It will depend on her strength whether she lives or dies."
Sinaedh gasped, unable even to scream, the effort of drawing enough breath an anguish she could not bear. She knew the others remained, watching. "If she die, dat hims vengeance."
"She my treasure," a small tentative voice said. "I finds her on de beach."
"She enemy," Knutha finally said to Korbel, silencing him. "Enemy die. She no treasure."
Sinaedh curled into a ball as best she could, eyes wide but unseeing, breath gasping in agonized bursts, every muscle seeming to tear itself apart in contraction. Roaring filled her mind, bringing with it a white light so bright that she tried to cringe away from it. She could not escape. The light bit through the darkness her eyes saw. It was within her; a blinding intensity even through her blindness. The roaring grew in her ears. She twisted, trying to raise her shackled hands to cover her ears or her eyes, or both. "Great God!" she gasped in a last attempt at prayer, before the light blazed then contracted into a sudden silent pit of darkness.
The enemy cleric lay limp on the dirt floor of the cage.
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