Fourteen

 

The creature made her stand with her back to the wall, then untied her wrists so he could secure them in the thick iron cuffs attached to the wall with chains. He cut the gag off her mouth with the quick flick of a small blade, then leaned down to sniff her hair.

Graciella shrunk back, glaring up at him. “Who are you?”

He chuckled, his laughter grating. “You’ve heard of me before, I’m certain. My name is Uman.”

“Yajna said he killed Uman. At a bandit camp.”

“He did. But as you see—” he patted his forearm—“I live again.”

“How is that possible?”

The torture chamber door swung open, and his accomplice entered, grinning when he saw her cuffed to the wall.

“Report,” Uman barked without taking his eyes off her.

“The horses are stabled and fed, Sire. Now all we have to do is wait for the Zulfikars.”

“Yes. Our army should be arriving soon. We’ll be ready.”

Army? Graciella grew fearful for the twins’ safety. If she could figure out her own escape, perhaps she could warn them before they were ambushed.

“The younger is even more beautiful than the elder.” Uman’s companion chuckled greedily, staring her up and down.

“Exquisite,” Uman agreed. “Touch her and I’ll destroy you. This one is to be my special morsel.”

“Yes, Sire.” His accomplice bowed nervously.

Since he’d more or less laid claim to her as his own, Graciella decided to try to draw Uman into conversation, try to learn what she could about his vulnerabilities so she could escape. “Why is he calling you Sire, if I may ask?”

“Because I am the rightful emperor of this land. I am Thakur’s seed.”

“You are?” She couldn’t believe this horrific creature was the son of a human being.

“Yes. His bastard son by a whore, to be exact.”

Graciella flashed him an innocent look from beneath her lashes. “I didn’t know Thakur had a son, one who had the power to rise from the dead.”

Uman grinned, baring his gruesome teeth. “There is much you don’t know, young Graciella.”

She kept her tone neutral. “What do you want from me, Uman?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” He paced toward a table holding sharp tools and knives, then turned back to face her. “I want the Zulfikars’ heads, seared over an open flame and served rare.”

She forced herself not to show a reaction to that.

He chuckled. “Being Vyrkune gives one a taste for flesshhh,” he hissed, raising a blade to his lips and licking the surface of it with his long tongue.

She fought the urge to gag at the sight, and found her voice. “What’s Vyrkune? Is that what you call your undead state?”

“She learns fast,” Uman noted to his companion. “Smart, this one.”

“So you’re hoping the emperors come to rescue me,” she continued, “and then you plan to ambush them with another army?”

His face suddenly twisted into a mask of rage, and he slammed his palm down on the table. Graciella cringed.

“They are not emperors!” he snarled. “They are usurpers! I am the true emperor of Nandala!”

There was a long moment of awkward silence, with the only sound in the room being the two creatures’ labored, beast-like breathing.

Graciella decided to try changing the subject. “I met a ghost at the palace the other night who claimed he was your brother.”

“Ah, yes. Little Rinnin.”

“Is he—I mean, was he—your brother?”

“Half-brother. By a different whore.”

“He claimed you killed him.”

“Yes. I tossed the little bugger off a balcony at the palace.”

Again Graciella hid her shock at his cold cruelty. “Did your father ever suspect?”

“I told him Rinnin fell. Thakur wasn’t particularly attached to either of us, only let us visit him at the palace a few times a year.”

“Well, it seems now Rinnin lives there full time.” She forced a bit of levity into her tone. “I had to change rooms to avoid his popping in on me.”

Uman laughed heartily at that. “He was always a bothersome one. That’s part of the reason I pushed him off the balcony.” He turned to his accomplice. “Come, Terijin. Let us prepare the sanctuary to greet our Vyrkune.”

They took the torch, left her there, and shut the door. The room went pitch black, and she heard them locking it from the outside with a padlock. Graciella allowed the terrified tears that were just below the surface to flow freely in the darkness, praying Yavi would come.

§

Yavi stopped to rest Sikar for a few minutes near a creek at the intersection of Ularian Road and the trail that led to the small village of Faril. The horse had galloped hard for two hours and was starting to fatigue. Yavi stood near his head, patting his neck, whispering to him in Nandalan. Sikar nudged him affectionately.

“You forgive me for running you like this, eh?”

Sikar nudged him again.

“Good, because we must fly again in a moment.”

He let the horse drink his fill and graze on the wild berry bushes nearby for a moment, and then swung himself up into the saddle again. Another hour or so of hard riding should bring him to the tower. He prayed that was her location, because he was running out of time to search.

§

There was a sound of footsteps hurrying down the stairs, and Terijin and Uman jumped up, drawing daggers as the wooden door flew open.

A group of six or seven grinning rebels rushed in, their eyes and teeth showing they had made the transition to Vyrkune. They bowed to Uman, breathing hard.

“My friends.” Uman chuckled, sheathing his dagger and motioning them to come inside. “You are the first to arrive. Come, we will celebrate our victory in the sanctuary. Terijin, go and retrieve our female guest. She will enjoy this.”

Terijin nodded and grabbed a torch off the wall, eager to smell her flesh again. He hurried through the archway and down the long hallway to the chamber where she was being held. He placed the torch in a sconce, fiddled with the padlock, and swung the door open.

When he brought the torch inside, she looked up, her face stained with tears. Terijin set the torch in a sconce and rifled through the keys on his key ring until he found the correct one. He went to her side to unlock one of her wrist cuffs, leaning close to inhale deeply of her scent.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked softly.

For an answer, he merely chuckled and unlocked the other cuff.

Without warning, she kicked him, hard, in the groin, and he doubled over. She tried to run past him, but he grabbed her skirt, which tore in his claws. She struggled to free herself, but he managed to lunge forward and grasp her by the waist. The contact with her warm flesh through her dress was almost overwhelming to his senses, and he found himself opening his jaw to take a bite of her shoulder, saliva dripping from his teeth. But as soon as their sharpened points made contact with her creamy flesh, she winced, and he remembered Uman’s warning. If he brought her upstairs with a bloody bite mark, his liege would not be pleased. Best to wait until later, and hope that Uman would share at least a few nibbles.

He lashed her wrists together with the rope and dragged her down the hallway toward the sanctuary. When they arrived, more of their Vyrkune army had made it back to the fortress, totaling about twenty soldiers. Uman looked out from the altar platform as Terijin pulled his feminine captive into the room. Uman’s loyal subjects grinned, leering hungrily at her.

“Back up!” Uman shouted from the platform. “Give them room.”

The Vyrkune shuffled quickly aside to leave a path, and Terijin led the Stovy girl up to the altar with her torn skirt dragging on the floor behind her. He turned her to face the audience, held her by her arms, and waited for Uman’s next command.

Uman addressed the newly arrived soldiers. “You see I have taken the queen’s younger sister captive.”

The Vyrkune cheered, their voices deepened and roughened by the transformation.

“The Zulfikars will track her down soon. They are master assassins. And when they arrive, we will capture them,” Uman swore, grinning. “And we will eat of their flesh tonight!”

“What about the girl, Sire?” one of the Vyrkune soldiers asked, saliva dripping from his fanglike teeth.

“She is mine!” Uman thundered, and the soldier shrank back, nodding submissively.

§

Yavi reached the site of the crumbling tower sooner than he’d expected and veered off the road opposite it to hide his horse in the trees. All was quiet around the abandoned-looking tower. Yavi drew his hood over his head and started to cross the road, but then he noticed movement in the woods just south of the tower and shrunk back into the cover of the trees.

Several dark figures sprinted with unnatural speed to the tower and disappeared into its archway. There must have been at least nine or ten of them, and whatever they were, they didn’t move like ordinary humans.

Yavi’s gut tightened with worry for Graciella. He whispered a prayer to Tejeshwar that his blades would be true, and that she would be unharmed when he found her.

He waited a few moments until he sensed the night’s stillness again, then slipped quickly across the road, into the shadows of the tower’s outside walls. He peered through a window to see if there was any movement inside, but all was quiet. He ducked through the arched doorway, looking around for a trap door or some sort of entrance to an underground chamber.

He found the staircase leading down and drew his dagger, palming the handle of it backward so that it lay against the inside of his forearm, out of sight under his sleeve. At the bottom of the dark staircase, he pressed his ear to a wooden door, checking for sounds of movement inside. Hearing none, he carefully pushed the door open and slipped inside.

The room inside was dark, barren but for a couple of bookcases that housed various tools and knives. The stink of rotted meat filled his nostrils, and his blood boiled that sweet Graciella would be held captive in such a vile, sickening place.

There were archways to his left and right, and he held his breath to focus his hearing. He picked up faint, muffled voices to the right. He ducked through that arch, flattened himself against the wall, and made his way down the long passageway.

The voices grew stronger, the sounds of men—or of some sort of creatures—shouting and growling in celebratory tones. Yavi descended another short staircase, then peered carefully around the corner.

It looked like the ceremony room Jiandra had described, a large room with rows of benches facing an altar. And what he saw on the altar filled him with mortification. Two hulking, nightmarishly corpse-like beings held Graciella between them, jeering with the gathered crowd of beasts who were raising their fists in the air, celebrating their capture of the terrified-looking, pale-faced girl.

“U-man! U-man!” they chanted, louder and louder.

The taller of the two creatures on the stage raised his fists, glorying in their adulation.

Uman? Yavi’s mind raced. He hadn’t gotten a good look at the bandit leader before Yajna had shot him at the camp a few weeks prior, but the man they’d slain certainly hadn’t looked like this unholy ghoul. Then Yavi noticed the creature beside Uman, the one holding Graciella, looked very familiar.

It was Terijin. Yavi recognized his grizzled shock of hair, his pointy chin, his hunched shoulders.

How can this be? Yavi had heard childhood tales of undead creatures who were called Vyrkune in Old Nandalan. They swore a pact with a demon before death, then became walking corpses for eternity, feeding on the raw flesh of animals and humans. Occasionally farmers would report slayings of their goats or cattle, finding a bloody mess with all the organs ripped out, and rumors of the Vyrkune would abound for weeks afterward.

Graciella suddenly tried to jerk her arm away from Terijin, stomping hard on his booted foot. He released her in surprise, but Uman caught her before she could flee.

“Not so fassst,” he hissed at her, then nuzzled her hair, causing Yavi’s skin to crawl.

Enough of this. While Uman was distracted with Graciella, Yavi crouched low and crept along the stone floor near the wall, circling around the back of the crowd of Vyrkune. He ducked behind a pillar near the stage. There was a sculpture of a claw-footed, winged lion on the side of the platform, and Yavi vaulted himself onto its back, drawing swords. When Uman looked up, Yavi leapt, driving both scimitars down into the thick armor covering Uman’s shoulder.

Uman screeched with an unholy sound as he stumbled away from Graciella and fell to his knees.

“Run!” Yavi shouted at her, readying his swords for another attack.

“Catch her!” Uman growled at Terijin. He struggled to his feet, holding his shoulder.

Graciella rushed down the steps of the platform, but Terijin chased her with lightning speed and caught her by the sleeve. He sank his claws into the tender flesh of her upper arm, and she cried out as he dragged her back up the steps to the altar, blood instantly soaking through the ripped sleeve of her dress.

“Attack the usurper!” Uman motioned at Yavi.

The crowd of Vyrkune glared at Yavi with their soulless black eyes and surged forward, baring their sharpened teeth. Yavi leapt off the platform and spun, swinging his swords in an arc, slicing through the chests of several of the creatures in front. They fell, and another wave came forward to receive the same treatment.

Yavi continued to attack, cutting down the Vyrkune soldiers until the entire lot of them lay immobile on the floor. He turned to face Uman, breathing hard. Yavi pointed a scimitar at him. “What does an abomination like you have to do with the rebellion?” he demanded. “Where is Thakur’s son?”

“You are looking at him, Usurper,” Uman grinned.

“You?”

Uman gave a little bow. “In the flesshhh,” he hissed, his laughter sounding more like a growl. “The flesh of a corpse, that is.”

“If you have a claim to the throne of Nandala, meet me on the battlefield to settle it like a man. Not by kidnapping and holding hostage an innocent girl.” Yavi took a step forward, sword raised.

“Terijin,” Uman ordered, still grinning at Yavi, “bite off her earlobe. The right one.”

Graciella sucked in a breath, grimacing as Terijin opened his jaw wide and swept her hair out of the way with his claws. He sank his teeth into her ear, and she screamed.

“No!” Yavi dropped his swords to the stone floor with a clatter and held up his hands. “Stop! Uman, just tell me what you want!”

Graciella whimpered, eyes shut tight.

Uman made a signal to halt Terijin. “It’s very simple, Zulfikar. You.”

“Me for her?” Yavi raised his hands. “Fine, done. Let her go and take me instead.” If you can.

“No, Yavi!” Graciella cried. Blood ran down her neck and over her collarbone from the foul creature’s bite. Yavi gritted his teeth, waiting for Uman’s answer.

“Hand over your swords,” Uman demanded.

Yavi scooped his scimitars off the floor and turned the handles toward Uman, never taking his eyes off Uman’s face.

“Lay them on the steps.”

Yavi moved forward cautiously to do as Uman asked.

“Now.” Uman stretched out a hand, beckoning to Yavi with one claw. “Give me the ruby.”

Graciella’s sweet voice choked on a sob. “No, Yavi.”

Yavi slowly pulled the chain out from under his leather armor and lifted it from his neck. He held the pendant up high in the air. “Release the girl, and then I hand over the ruby. The rule of Nandala will be yours.” He dangled the sacred red gem in the torchlight.

Uman stared at it, transfixed.

“Here it is, Uman. Give me the girl first, and I will hand it over without a fight.”

“Fool!” Uman growled, taking a menacing step forward. “I will destroy you and take the ruby by force!”

“Try it.” Yavi grinned, letting the ruby slip out of his hands.

Uman glanced down, watching as it bounced on the stone floor and rolled to a halt.

With a quick flick of his wrist, Yavi hurled the dagger that was hidden in his sleeve at Uman’s forehead, and it sank into the creature’s skull with a thunk. Uman fell back, tearing down the tapestry behind him with flailing arms as his huge body tumbled to the floor.

Yavi dashed up the steps and lunged at Terijin, driving his fist into the traitor’s face with all his strength, then pulled Graciella away from his grasp. Just as he turned to flee back through the sanctuary with her in tow, the bodies of the Vyrkune soldiers began rising from the floor, one by one. They faced Yavi menacingly, blocking his exit.

Yavi glanced back at his swords. The emperor’s ruby lay near them, at the foot of the steps.

Uman sat up, yanked the dagger out of his head, then pushed himself to his feet. Dark blood ran down the bridge of his nose, streaking down toward his disgusting mouth. He grinned at Yavi, then looked out at his resurrected Vyrkune soldiers.

“Seize them!”

Yavi pulled Graciella behind his back to shield her, preparing to face off with the Vyrkune in hand-to-hand combat if need be. As the first two creatures lunged for him, he crouched, preparing to fight with his fists.

They froze before reaching him, then fell forward on their faces with arrows in the backs of their necks.

Yavi looked up to see his brother and Jiandra in the doorway to the sanctuary. Yajna lifted his bow and shot more arrows, each one expertly finding its mark. The Vyrkune soldiers moved about in confusion, tripping over their fallen comrades, seeming unsure of which one to attack, Yavi near the front or Yajna at the back of the room.

Yavi ran toward the steps and grabbed up one of his swords. He pulled Graciella with him to the side of the sanctuary, ducking with her behind a pillar.

“Get on my back.” He turned and crouched down so she could climb on. She wrapped her legs and arms tightly around him just in time for him to straighten and fend off Terijin’s lunging attack with his sword. He sliced Terijin’s throat and shoved his flailing body to the ground.

In front of the steps, Uman had scooped up the emperor’s ruby as well as Yavi’s other sword. He slipped the ruby around his neck, then wielded the sword with both hands, crouching to face off with Yavi. Yavi brandished his other scimitar, ready to defend himself and Graciella with it.

“Yavi, watch out!” Graciella cried in his ear, tapping his left shoulder and pointing.

He turned to see Terijin staggering toward them, grinning, dark blood pouring from the fresh wound in his neck.

“Brother, let’s go!” Yajna shouted from across the room. “They can’t be killed!”

Yavi hurled his scimitar straight forward, toward Uman’s chest. It pierced his armor and knocked Uman back, toppling the stone altar with the impact of his body. Yavi leapt to the right to dodge Terijin and sprinted toward the exit with Graciella in tow.

“Uman has the ruby!” he shouted at his brother on the way.

“I don’t care!” Yajna yelled, motioning him to keep coming. “Let’s get out of here!” Yajna slung his bow on his back, grabbed Jiandra’s hand, and turned to dash up the stairs.

Yavi followed. Graciella was light as a feather on his back, and he didn’t want to risk setting her down and letting one of those creatures put their filthy hands—or teeth—on her again.

They ran down the long hallway to the entrance, threw open the door, and were greeted by three more Vyrkune hurrying down the steps. Yavi backed out of the way to let Yajna aim his arrows, piercing all three of the creatures and knocking them down.

Yavi leapt over the bodies and dashed up the stairs, emerging from the half-broken door at the top. Outside the tower, he heard the guttural cries of yet more Vyrkune running across the field toward the underground fortress.

“Quick, this way!” Yavi whispered, motioning his brother and Jiandra to follow him around to the shadows on the far side of the tower.

The four of them huddled against the outer wall, breathing hard, listening. The Vyrkune rushed into the tower and down the stairs, apparently not having seen them.

“Let’s go,” Yavi whispered. He carried Graciella in the direction of the trees across the road where he’d left Sikar.

A Vyrkune stepped out from the archway, sniffing the air in front of Yavi. “I thought I smelled flessshhh,” it muttered thickly.

An arrow sank into the creature’s neck, and it staggered and fell.

Yavi ran with Graciella, and his brother and Jiandra followed. They ducked into the darkness of the woods, where Yavi made a soft sound to call Sikar. The horse tossed his head to show Yavi where he was, and Yavi headed in that direction. Near Sikar, he set Graciella down, then gently lifted her bloodied hair out of the way for Jiandra’s inspection. Graciella winced, stifling a sob. Her earlobe was half-torn off, barely hanging. Yavi fought the urge to charge back in there and rip Terijin apart with his bare hands.

The Omaja stone glowed in Jiandra’s left palm. She hid its light under her cloak and placed her right hand over the mutilated ear. Seconds later, when she removed her hand, the ear was restored to one piece. Tears of relief ran down Graciella’s cheeks, and Yavi caressed her jaw gratefully.

“Where else are you hurt, sister?” Jiandra whispered.

Yavi answered for her. “Terijin clawed her arm, here.” He pulled Graciella’s ripped, bloody sleeve aside to reveal the wound.

Jiandra placed her hand over the angry claw wounds, healing them as well. “Anything else, sweet girl?”

Graciella shook her head. “No, I don’t think so,” she whispered. “But I’m scared. Let’s go soon!”

“Yavi, do you need healing first?” Jiandra asked.

“No. Let’s get out of here.” Yavi glanced over his shoulder. “Where are your horses?”

“In the woods there, not far.” Yajna pointed south. “But where should we go, brother? They will look for us at the palace. We’ll need to gather our forces before we go back there.”

“What good will forces do against creatures that can’t be killed?” Yavi swore under his breath. “Let’s head northwest, to the monastery. Volkan will know what to do.”

Yajna nodded, grasping Jiandra’s hand. “We’ll try to follow your route, but if we can’t catch up with you, we’ll meet you at the monastery. Godspeed, brother.”

Yavi grabbed his brother’s wrist in a handshake, then removed his cloak and placed it around Graciella’s shoulders. He mounted Sikar, reaching down to pull her up behind him. She wrapped her arms around his waist as he guided the horse through the darkened woods, heading north. He wanted to go around the far side of Faril before heading west, to put as much distance as he could between their scent and the Vyrkune army gathering at the tower.

§

Graciella clung nervously to Yavi’s strong waist as they galloped along a forest road that was little more than a trail, shivering in the chilly night air despite wearing his cloak. They rode hard for what seemed like hours before Yavi eventually stopped to rest Sikar. He halted the horse in the cover of the trees, then reached up to grasp her waist and set her on her feet. He took her hand and pulled her with him as he led the horse to a creek nearby.

While Sikar drank, Yavi crouched to tear a strip of fabric from the hem of Graciella’s ruined skirt. He soaked it in the creek, then made her face him, lifting her hair out of the way so he could clean the blood from her ear and neck with the cold, wet rag. “Are you all right, Sheir-zin?” he asked as he worked.

She nodded and drew his cloak tighter around her torso, shivering as she peered gratefully up at his face in the moonlight. “I can’t believe you gave up the emperor’s ruby…for me.”

He wiped the dried blood off her arm, then stroked her cheek. “What good is that ruby to me without you, Graciella?”

She gazed up at his exotic silvery eyes, loving him more than ever. “But does this mean you aren’t emperor now?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care.”

“You don’t?”

“I never asked to rule Nandala. The Black Armies hailed us as emperors when we killed Thakur, but neither Yajna nor I were fighting him so we could gain power for ourselves. We just wanted to help Nandala be free from his tyranny.” He rubbed the pad of his thumb gently around the corner of her mouth. “For my part, I could be happy as a peasant farmer living in a little cottage with you for the rest of my days.”

Graciella swallowed, staring up at his handsome face.

“When I got back to your room earlier tonight to find you gone, I went crazy, Sheir-zin.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t use the sword techniques you’ve been teaching me. When Uman and Terijin broke my door down, I just stood there gaping at them like a fool.”

“How could you be expected to fight off two Vyrkune by yourself, my love? If I had known what we were dealing with, I would have stayed there to protect you.” He leaned down to press a soft kiss to her lips, caressing her waist. “Sweet, beautiful Graciella. Thank Tejeshwar I found you in time.”

She pressed herself closer to him. “How are we going to kill those things?”

“I don’t know.” He tightened his embrace, cradling her head against his chest. “But I will not let them near you again, even if I have to keep killing them over and over throughout eternity.”

“Gods forbid.”

He kissed the top of her hair. “Volkan will know what to do. I’m sure of it.”

Graciella pictured the old monk’s kind face. “I am looking forward to seeing him again. I felt so drawn to him when we were at the monastery. This is probably silly of me, but I wanted him to be my grandfather.”

“He was drawn to you as well.”

“He said I would bring hope to Nandala, but I think all I’ve brought to this land is trouble.”

“No,” Yavi protested, stroking her hair. “He meant me. You’ve brought hope to me, Graciella.”

She looked up at him. “I have?”

He touched her cheek. “I feel alive again, free. I’ve been like a dead man for six years, a prisoner in that palace. I had resigned myself to isolation and bitterness.”

She slipped a hand around his neck and pulled him down, stretching up to kiss his lips. “That wasn’t your fate, Yavi. You deserve love and happiness.”

He chuckled. “I don’t know if I deserve it or not. But I know I love you. And whatever happens, if we have to flee Nandala and live in a cottage somewhere in the forests of Villeleia, I hope you will still love me and stay by my side.”

She blinked up at him. That almost sounded like a marriage proposal, but she wasn’t sure if he meant it as such.

“Would you, Graciella? Would you still love me if I were poor and humble?”

“I fell in love with you long before you were emperor. I don’t care about your title, or lack of one.”

He kissed her, his mouth warm as he savored her lips for a long moment.

She smiled when he pulled back. “And as far as wealth, you’re already the poorest emperor I have ever heard of.”

“That’s true. My own sister-in-law has to slave in my kitchen.”

“I’m a farm girl. I’m not accustomed to wealth. I hope you never get too rich to let me work in the kitchen if I want to.”

He kissed her lips again, then murmured against them, “We’ll see about that.” He suddenly stiffened and broke off the kiss, pulling her with him behind a tree. He hugged her back against his chest and peered out toward the road.

“What is it?” she whispered.

He placed his hand gently over her mouth. “Shh. Someone’s coming.”