Without a distinguishing landmark, she had no idea where she was, except in a forest. She could be near the Great Plains of Elesilren or further away. She knew that she was in the enemy’s camp, but saw neither Braesan nor Silren. These Eltar, she suspected, were reinforcements.
She moved and became violently ill, vomiting. The pain in her shoulder stabbed through her. Poison, she thought. The demon used poison. But why did it keep her alive?
“So, this is the great Lachlei,” spoke a sardonic voice.
Lachlei tried to focus on the wound in her shoulder, but found she could not heal it. She was either too weak or the demon poison counteracted her magic. Instead, she looked up, wiping her eyes clear of the mud with her good hand. The manacle pulled against her and she frowned. Whatever the reason, her captors were keeping her movements limited.
An Eltar woman strode into view, flanked by two guards. She was tall with dark, plaited hair, and wore black mail. Her arms were crossed, and she scowled at Lachlei as the Chi’lan queen lay there. Lachlei stared back at her.
“What are you staring at?” the Eltar demanded.
“I didn’t know the death god used children,” Lachlei said. “How old are you? Sixteen? Seventeen?”
The woman’s face twisted in anger. She kicked Lachlei in the stomach. “Get up, bitch! My lord will be coming for you.”
The kick sent Lachlei into another round of retching. The Eltar smiled, enjoying Lachlei’s predicament. When Lachlei stopped heaving, she looked up at the woman. “Who are you? Who is your lord?”
“I am Imdyr, high priestess and consort of Areyn Sehduk,” she said. “Areyn is my lord; he will soon be your lord.”
Lachlei said nothing. The girl was mad; that much she was sure of. Imdyr strode up to Lachlei and grasped her by the hair. “I don’t see what’s so special about you,” Imdyr sneered. “A great Chi’lan warrior laid low by demon poison.”
Lachlei brought her hand up in a palm-heel strike, hitting Imdyr hard under the chin and sending her sprawling backwards. Her guards caught her, and one moved towards Lachlei, sword drawn. Lachlei backed against the tree, but she had nowhere to go.
“Wait, Tarel!” Imdyr barked out. Tarel halted and glanced at Imdyr. “Areyn wants her alive.”
“Pity,” Tarel remarked. His eyes raked over Lachlei and he grinned. “Perhaps we can amuse ourselves in other ways.”
“Just try,” Lachlei growled, her silver eyes locked on the Eltar. “You’ll find yourself missing vital parts.”
The Eltar laughed. “I like a challenge,” he said, gripping her chin and pressing the blade against her neck.
Lachlei could feel his hot breath against her face. She wondered how much damage they would inflict on her if she broke his neck now.
“Enough, Tarel!” Imdyr snapped. “I don’t think Areyn would appreciate having his prize spoiled.”
“Pity,” Tarel remarked. “I could show you what a real man is like.”
“How would you know? Or have you experienced one?”
Tarel brought his arm back to strike. Lachlei’s knee impacted his groin and sent him sprawling. The other guard leapt forward, but Imdyr gripped his arm. “Don’t,” she said, her dark eyes glittering menacingly. “Areyn will have his fun with her soon enough.” She turned to Lachlei. “In the meantime, bitch, you’d better behave yourself. I can’t hold my men off you if you continue to taunt them.” She turned to the guard again. “Pick him up!” she snarled as she glanced at Tarel. As the other guard helped Tarel up, the Eltar gave her a murderous glance before stumbling away.
Rhyn’athel rode through the night. At first, he had thought he could track the demon without following the trail, but he soon realized that Areyn was blocking his powers. The Wyrd was now a confusing tangle of threads, many branching out along the World Tree. He gazed on the threads as he rode, but with so many Athel’cen in one place, there was no clear path. Without a clear trail, Rhyn’athel was forced to follow the thread the demon laid across the Wyrd.
Lachlei. His thoughts were on her and nothing else. The loss of the army, the Braesan, and even Elren, itself, were inconsequential. Areyn knew the new Wyrd prophecy, and he would do everything within his power to keep Lachlei from the warrior god. Even if it meant killing her. Areyn would destroy her rather than to have the balance decided.
Rhyn’athel admonished himself for failing to stay beside Lachlei. He had stayed away in deference to her feelings, but had left her unguarded. Even if he could not have her, Rhyn’athel could not bear seeing her at the mercy of the death god. The anger now burned hot inside him, and he used all his powers to search for her.
Nothing. He slowed his warhorse as he gazed into the night’s sky. Something was blocking his ability to sense where she was. Areyn should not have been able to do it. Something else. Something of a very old line. Could Areyn have found a Wyrd-blood to serve him? Wyrd-blood. That would explain Rhyn’athel’s apparent lack of power. If Areyn had a Wyrd-blood serving him, he would be able to hide much. Rhyn’athel hoped he’d be able to find Lachlei in time before Areyn…
Rhyn’athel forced the thought from his mind. He had never been jealous, but the thought of Areyn alone with Lachlei angered him. The anger drove him forward, and he urged his horse faster.
If he could only rescue her in time…
66
Lachlei sat back down in the mud and considered her options. Despite her powers, Lachlei found she could neither open the adamantine manacles nor break the chains that bound her to the tree. There was some spell that prevented her from opening the fetters. She looked around, but saw nothing she could use to her advantage, so she sat and tried to think of possible ways of escape.
The Eltar guards leered at her and she frowned. She doubted their fear of Areyn’s reprisal would hold them back for very long. They seemed more fearful of Imdyr than Areyn, which suggested that perhaps they had not dealt directly with the death god yet. Imdyr was another matter. Lachlei could sense her power, despite her young age. Could she really be Areyn’s high priestess and consort? Consort? The implication disgusted her and she shook her head, trying the clear the image of the demon lord taking advantage of the girl.
Imdyr was not much more than a child, really. Despite her bravado, Imdyr was still very young and probably emotionally immature. Lachlei knew nothing of the Eltar worship of Fala and Areyn, but she suspected that Imdyr had never had a true home once she was made a high priestess. Maybe she was apprenticed by the old priestess whose job she eventually took over. Lachlei tried to think back when she was so young—she had always been levelheaded, but many that age were impressionable and malleable. It would take little for a god like Areyn to twist Imdyr to his will, especially because the Eltar already encouraged it.
Lachlei had heard of children being given up to serve a god, but the concept was foreign to her, since Rhyn’athel had no priests or priestesses; simply Chi’lan. The Chi’lan were traditionally Lochvaur, but there had been Eleion from other kindreds and even Shara’kai who chose to be Rhyn’athel’s warriors.