Bloodwalk - James P. Davis [93]
As their eyes met, Eli smiled slightly and leveled her gaze on the manicured fop of Littlewater. Clenching and unclenching her fists, she descended to meet Baertah on even ground. The crowd of hunters parted as the two neared each other. Lightning split the sky.
"Blasphemy!"
Baertah spat the word through the rain. Elisandrya waited calmly, glaring as the lord hunter approached her. She saw no rapier at his belt, no sign that he might be ready to face a true enemy, much less draw weapons in battle.
"All of you! Lay down your arms and return to your homes! The high oracle's edict forbids this!" He pointed at Eli with a trembling finger. "And arrest her for inciting a riot!"
"No!" Eli shouted. "Stand and defend your homes or die in them!"
No one moved, glancing at the adversaries in turn. Baertah narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, standing nose to nose with Eli, who did not budge. "You would let them die in vain?"
"Sameska is mad, lost in delusions," Eli replied in even tones. "I would let them die with honor, defending that which her prophecy would destroy."
He stepped back a half pace, staring in disbelief at her words and beckoning with a hand to the hunters behind him, who still had not budged.
"Just who do you think you are?" he asked, incredulous.
"I am a Hunter of the Hidden Circle. A warrior sworn to live and die in service to Savras and those faithful to him." Her voice lowered to a harsh growl. "Who do you think you are?"
Baertah looked over his shoulder, frustrated that no one had yet obeyed his commands. Turning back to Eli, he growled in reply, loud enough for all to hear. "I am the lord hunter! And I want this yelping bitch in chains before…!"
He never saw the fist that found his jaw, only the spinning clouds overhead as his neck snapped backward. The barest hint of pain began to lance through his face as his back met the ground, splashing and sprawling in the mud like a rag doll.
Elisandrya did not stop to watch him gasp for lost breath. She ascended the ladder to the top of the wall and resumed her vigil. No one helped Baertah to stand, all going solemnly back to their tasks of mounting the city's defenses. More than a few found a moment to smile.
* * * * *
Dreslya walked with the slow gait of one who could not feel the floor beneath her feet. She felt the world tilting against her, could hear her own thoughts berating her as a foolish girl acting beyond her station in life.
But she continued anyway.
Dreslya had pulled back her straight, raven-black hair. Beneath the hem of her robes she wore sturdy leather boots instead of the sandals typically worn in the temple. The dagger in her belt felt strange against her hip, but its weight was comforting. She held a long, wrapped bundle in her arms gently, almost reverently, cradling it against her shoulder.
The sanctuary doors, lit by candlelight, loomed larger than they had ever seemed before. Shadows danced across the carvings of various stylized eyes, the traditional symbols of the All-Seeing One. Her mind raced through a hundred different scenarios of what might occur beyond those doors, all of them disastrous failures.
But she continued anyway.
A phantom sense of purpose pushed her on. Despite the doubt in herself, she struggled to trust her faith. Sameska's prophecy echoed in her mind, the words burned in her memory. That haunting voice trailed behind her, whispering in her ear, buzzing along her spine, and clawing at her robes. But a new voice had joined the chorus, far louder and more honest than Sameska had ever dreamed to be.
Just steps away from the door, she stopped, breathing deeply. For so long, she'd been the dutiful servant, the attentive and quiet student of faith. The silver ring on her hand glinted as the candle's glow touched it. She stared at the simple band, gathering herself to shatter the silence she'd clung to in safety.
She knew the prophecy would come to pass that night, unfurling its dark promises at the gates of the city. The sight of Savras would reveal its secrets and hidden meanings, ripples in the