The Shattered Chain Read online

  -Rohana! Rohana, is it you?

  But Rohana, from her place in the crowd, saw-and felt a sudden, fierce pride in her kinswoman-that Melora rode on without making any visible sign; her eyes fixed, apparently, on nothing; slightly slumped in her saddle; the taut, thin, careworn face beneath the graying red hair showing nothing but weariness and pain. Suddenly Rohana was struck with fear and compunction. She thought, She is so heavy, so near her time, the child weighs on her so. How can we possibly get her away in safety? She sent the concerned question.

  -Can you ride, Melora, can you travel, so far in pregnancy?

  The answer was almost listless.-It is easy to tell you do not know the Dry Towns; I would be expected to ride even closer to my time than this. Then the answering thoughts were fierce with hate.-I can do what I must! To be free I would ride through hell itself!

  Painstakingly, then, bit-by-bit, Rohana relayed Kindra’s message; received Melora’s answer, even while the caravan passed on, passed by the marketplace. At the rear came a few more guards, who indifferently tossed small coins, copper rings, wrapped fruits and sweetmeats into the crowd, watching with dead eyes, as the beggars scrambled for them. Kindra and Rohana, not staying to watch the painful spectacle, turned back toward their booth. Once safely inside it, Rohana relayed the information she had received.

  “Jalak sleeps in a room at the north side of the building, with his favorites of the moment, and Melora; not that he has any interest, at the moment, in sharing her bed, so she told me; but at the moment she is his most prized possession, bearing his son, and he will not let her out of his sight. There are no guards within the room, but there are two guards, and two cralmacs armed with knives, in the antechamber. Until this last pregnancy, Jaelle-that is her daughter-slept in her mother’s room; now she has been moved to a room in the suite set apart for the other royal daughters. She complained that the noise the little ones made kept her from sleeping; Jalak is indulgent with girl-children if they are pretty ones, and allotted her a room to her own use, with a nurse there. It is at the far end of the royal children’s suite, and looks out on an inner courtyard filled with blackfruit trees.”

  She anticipated Kindra’s next question, saying, “I have the plan of the building so clear in my mind that I could draw it for you from memory.”

  Kindra laughed and said, “Truly, Lady, you would make a Free Amazon someday! Perhaps it is our loss that you did not choose our way, after all.” She went to the women still in the booth, saying in an undertone, “Sell what you can; but what cannot be sold by nightfall, be prepared to abandon. Do not strike the booth; if we leave it standing they will expect us to be here come morning. Be sure the horses we used as pack animals are ready to be saddled for Melora and her daughter. … “

  That afternoon seemed endless to Rohana. The worst of it lay in that she must behave exactly as usual-or at least as near to usual as was possible for her, here in the Dry Towns, far from her accustomed ways of occupying herself. She tried not to fidget visibly, knowing it would only disturb the Amazons, who seemed quite calm, selling their wares, tending their animals, idling around the camp. And yet, as the afternoon wore on, it seemed to her that she could see small signs that they were not, after all, quite so indifferent as they seemed to the coming battle. Camilla sat cross-legged at the back of the booth, sharpening her great knife to a razor edge, whistling an odd, tuneless little melody that, after a time, began to set Rohana’s teeth on edge. Kindra sat drawing patterns again and again in the sand and quickly rubbing them out again with the toe of her boot. Rohana wondered how Melora was passing the time, but resisted the temptation to follow her in thought. If Melora could take some rest before sunset, let her do so, by all means!

  How will she travel? She looks not more than three days from her time-if so much!

  Slowly, slowly, the great red sun declined toward the hills. It seemed to Rohana that no day in her lifetime had worn away so wearily, with every hour stretching into lifetimes. Not even the day my second son was born, when I seemed to lie for hours stretched on a rack of pain tearing me asunder … even then, something could be done. Now I can only wait, and wait … and wait. …

  Kindra said quietly, as she passed, “This day must seem longer still for your kinswoman, Lady,” and Rohana tried to smile. That, at least, was true.

  “Pray to your Goddess that the Lady Melora does not go into labor this day,” Kindra said. “That would be the end of hope. We might still rescue her daughter, but if the Great House was ablaze with lights, midwives running here and there to attend to her … even that would be made more difficult than we could manage.”

  Rohana drew a deep breath of apprehension. And she is so near to her time. …

  She tried to form, in her heart, a prayer to the Blessed Cassilda, Mother of the Seven Domains; but her prayer seemed to hang on the dead air, waiting, like everything else. …

  And yet, as all things mortal must, even the day wore to an end. The Dry-Town women, veiled and chained, came to buy water at the well, and again they lingered, fascinated even through their scorn, to watch the Amazons moving about, tending their horses, cooking their meal. Rohana offered what help she could; it was easier if her hands were busy. She watched the Dry-Town women come and go in the marketplace, thinking of Melora, her hands weighted by the jeweled chains, her body weighted with Jalak’s hated child. She had been so light and quick, as a girl, so frolicsome and laughing …

  They finished their meal, and Kindra signaled to Rafaella to take her harp, strike a few chords. She said in an undertone, “Come in close, and listen; act as if you were only listening to the music.”

  Rohana asked in a low voice, “Can you play ‘The Ballad of Hastur and Cassilda’?”

  “I think so, Lady.”

  “I will sing it. It is very long, and my voice,” she added, with a self-deprecating smile, “is not so strong that anyone passing by would think it odd if you kept very quiet to listen to me-but not so soft that Kindra cannot talk more softly still, and be heard.”

  Kindra nodded, pleased at Rohana’s quick comprehension of her plan. Rafaella played a short introduction, and Rohana began, hearing her own voice wavering:

  “The stars were mirrored on the shore,

  Dark was the dim enchanted moor;

  Silent were field and tree and stone. … “

  The other women clustered in close, as if to listen to the ancient ballad; Rohana heard her own voice falter, fought to steady it. She must somehow collect herself to remember all the seemingly endless verses, string it out while Kindra gave soft, detailed instructions to every one of the Amazons. Get hold of yourself, she ordered and commanded herself: This is something you can do, while they do the real work … the dangerous work, the fighting …

  Yet they are women. I learned to think fighting was for men; I could never carry a knife, strike, see blood flow, perhaps suffer wounding, die…

  Sing, damn you, Rohana! Stop thinking, sing…

  “He lay thrown up along the shore,

  The sands were jeweled evermore,

  And to the shore Cassilda came

  And called him by a mortal name …”

  Struggling to remember the next lines, she heard Kindra, in a low, tense voice, detailing the information she had been given, pointing to the pattern she had scratched in the sand by firelight.

  “Jalak sleeps here, with his favorites and Melora; there are no guards in the room, but just outside…”

  “Cassilda wept and paled and fled,

  Camilla knelt and raised his head,

  He left his high immortal fire,

  For mortal man’s entranced desire;

  White bread and wine and cherries red…

  “-No, damn it, I skipped a verse,” she said, breaking off in vexation, then realized it did not matter; no one was listening anyway.

  “Brought by her doves through morning bright,

  Camilla came, and bowed her head, He ate and drank by mortal light;

  And as his brilliance paled away

  Into a dimmer earthly day

  Cassilda left her shining loom:

  A starflower in his hand she laid;

  Then on him fell a mortal doom. … “

  “Are the windows accessible by ladders?” asked Gwennis, and Kindra snapped, “They might be, if we had ladders. Next question, but no more stupid ones, please! We have time to kill, but not that much time!”

  “Into the heart of Alar fell,

  A splinter from the Darkest Hell,

  And madness raging on him came,

  He cried again on Zandru’s name,

  And at the darkened forge he made

  A darkly shining magic blade;

  An evil spell upon it cast. … “

  “Devra and Rima, you will stay here, and the moment we come in sight, get moving! Be sure that the guards at the gate make no outcry-” Kindra looked meaningfully at Rima.

  The fat woman laid a hand on her knife, with a grim nod. Kindra said, “Camilla, you ride lighter than any of us; you will carry the child on your saddle. Lady Rohana-no, go on singing! You must be ready to ride close to Melora, to be alert for anything she needs; we shall all be busy enough evading pursuit and dealing with anyone who might come after us.”

  Rohana felt a shudder take her, seize her body and shake it like a rabbithorn in the grip of a wolf. Her voice faltered; she tried to cover it with a cough, and doggedly went on, knowing she was garbling the words horribly:

  “He could not see the-something-plan

  That gave a God to mortal wife,

  That earthly love with mortal man—

  Should bring to man a-something-life,

  Camilla fell without a cry-”

  Damn, damn, I’ve skipped two whole verses aga
in. …

  “And Hastur, shielded by her heart,

  Knew he could die as mortals die. … “

  “Lori, you handle the cralmacs; I understand you know how they fight. Those long blades … anything else? Leeanne?”

  “Remember that sometimes the Dry-Towners poison their swords. Don’t neglect even a scratch. I’ve got some ointment that is supposed to neutralize their worst poisons. … “

  “Then Hastur son of Light had known,

  (For so had ruled the Shining Sire

  When first he left the Realm of Fire)

  Once more his star must burn alone …

  For on the earth he might not reign

  If he should cause one mortal pain,

  Or in that hour he must return

  To the far realms that were his own. … “

  “We’ll never be readier than now,” Kindra said softly. “Finish the damn song, Rafaella, and get your dagger.”

  Gratefully Rohana began the last verse:

  “And ever more the cloud waves break,

  Along the fringes of the lake,

  And tears and songs still whisper there,

  Upon the still and misty air. … “

  It was an unnerving experience, knowing they were all listening now, but impatient of every note, eager for her to finish. Damn it, no more eager than I!

  “They built a city in the wild,

  Fit for his rule, the kingly child,

  And singing of Camilla’s doom,

  They wrought for her an opal tomb.”

  She skipped the little postlude and rose impatiently, letting Rafaella put her harp away. Earlier in the afternoon she had packed the few possessions she had brought on this journey into a small bundle. Inside the tent the Amazons moved quickly and efficiently by the light of a single shaded candle, stowing food and necessary belongings in their saddlebags. Rohana watched, keeping out of their way. Devra and Fat Rima moved away toward the city gates, and Rohana felt another shudder take her; their business was to assure that those gates would be unguarded when they came back this way in a hurry, fleeing. …

  Don’t be squeamish! The guards there are Dry-Towners; they’ve probably deserved death a dozen times over. …

  But they have no quarrel with any of us! There must be some good men among them, who have done nothing more than live as their forefathers have lived for centuries. …

  Angry at herself, Rohana stifled the thought. I hired Kindra’s band to get Melora and her child away. Did I really believe it could be done without bloodshed? You cannot take hawks without climbing cliffs!

  Kindra beckoned the red-haired woman to her side. She said in an undertone, “I had thought to leave you here with these; but we shall need you, in case your kinswoman must have help-or reassurance. Come with us, Lady, but look to yourself if there is fighting; none of us will have time or thought to protect you, and Jalak’s men may think you one of us and attack. Have you any kind of weapon?”

  “I have this,” Rohana said, showing the small dagger she carried, like all Comyn women, for personal protection. Kindra looked at it, trying to conceal her scorn. “It would be small service in a fight, I fear. But if we fail-I do not think we will fail, but nothing in this world is absolutely certain but death and next winter’s snow-if we fail, at least it will keep you from falling alive into Jalak’s hands. Are you prepared for that, vai domna?”

  Rohana nodded, hoping the Amazon could not see that she was trembling. And again it flickered fleetingly through her mind, as had happened more than once during the twenty days she had been in their company, that perhaps Kindra had some small spark of psi power, that she followed Rohana’s thoughts a little more than might happen by chance, for the Amazon’s hard-boned hand descended briefly on her shoulder; only for a moment, a light touch, and hesitant, lest the noblewoman angrily refuse her sympathy. “My Lady, do you think none of us is afraid? We have not learned not to fear; only to go on in the face of fear, as women are seldom taught to do on our world.” She turned away, her voice brusque again in the darkness. “Come along. Nira: to the front, you know the way step by step, we know it only from my Lady’s drawings and maps.”

  Thrust to the rear of the small group of women, Rohana followed, hearing her pounding heart, so strongly it seemed to her that the thumping must almost be audible in the dusty, deserted streets. They moved like ghosts, or shadows, keeping in the lee of buildings, stealing along on noiseless feet. Rohana wondered where they had learned to move so silently, found she was afraid to speculate. For a panic-stricken moment she wished she had never begun this, that she were safe at home in Castle Ardais, on the borders of the Hellers. She wondered how her children fared without her, how the cousin who had managed her estates after her husband’s death a few years ago was dealing with the business, what was happening far away in the mountain country. This was never any place for me. Why did I ever come here? War, revenge, rescue, these are matters for men!

  And the men were content to let Melora pine away and die, captive! She hardened her resolve and stole along at the rear of the little column, trying to pick up her feet and put them down as silently as the Amazons, not to stumble against a chance stone.

  The city was a labyrinth. And yet it was not very long before the women in front of her stopped, drew close together in a knot, seeing across an open, windswept square the loom of the Great House where Jalak of Shainsa ruled. The house was a great squared building of pale bleached stone, glimmering faintly by the light of a single small gibbous moon: a blind window-less barrack, a fortress, the two doors guarded by tall guards in Jalak’s barbarous livery. Silently the Amazons turned, slipping through the shadows and along the side of the building. Rohana had heard Kindra’s plan, and it seemed to her a good one. Every outside door into a Dry-Town house was guarded; against direct attack at the doors a couple of guards could hold it indefinitely. But if they could somehow get through the small side gateway into the courtyard, make their way through the garden-hopefully deserted, at this hour-and get into the house through the unguarded inside doorways, they might get into Jalak’s chamber.

  She had heard Kindra say, through her singing, “Our best hope is that there has been peace in the Dry-Towns for many moons. The guards may be bored, not as alert as usual.”

  She could see the guard at the side gate now. Evanda be praised, no more than one. He lounged against the wall; Rohana could not see his face, but she was a telepath, and even unsought, his thoughts were clear enough: boredom, dullness, the sense that he would welcome anything, even armed attack, to relieve the monotony of this watch.

  “Gwennis.” Kindra murmured. “Your move.”

  (When this plan had been put forward, Gwennis had protested, sullenly. “Does it have to be me?” and Kindra had said, “You’re the prettiest.”) Now there was no protest, the band’s discipline held. As Gwennis deliberately scuffed a stone loose against the wall, Rohana felt the Amazon leader thinking, This is the worst moment of risk. …

  The guard straightened, alert to the noise.

  He’s alert, we can’t take him unawares; so we have to get him away from the gate, get him out into the center of the square, Kindra thought.

  Gwennis had swiftly divested herself of knife and dagger, torn her tunic slightly down the front. She sauntered out into the moonlit square, and the guard was instantly alert, then relaxed, seeing a woman alone.

  We are taking advantage of him, yes. Of the centuries-old Dry-Town contempt for women as helpless, harmless chattels. Victims, Kindra reflected bitterly.

  The guard did not hesitate more than half a minute before stepping away from his post at the door, moving purposefully toward the young girl. “Hey, pretty thing-are you lonely? One of the Amazons, huh? Have you got tired of them and come looking for some better company?”

  Gwennis did not raise her eyes. Rohana had heard the argument about that, too. (“I won’t seduce him to his death. If he minds his own business he is safe. I won’t use a feminine trick.”) But the guard had already left his post, and Gwennis’ silent indifference to him had provoked his curiosity; he came swiftly toward her, saying, “Ha-caught you without that knife you wear all the time, huh? Now you’ll see what it’s like really to be a woman. Who knows, you might even like it better. Here, come here and let me show you a thing or two …” He reached for the girl, roughly pulled her against him, spun her around, one hand covering her mouth to stifle a cry … his words broke off in a strangled gasp. Lori’s long knife, thrown with deadly accuracy, went straight into his throat. A moment later Lori herself bent over him, delivering a swift, fatal death-stroke to the great vein below his ear. Kindra and Camilla dragged him into the shadow of the wall, out of sight of any chance passerby; Gwennis scrambled up, fastidiously wiping her mouth as if she could wipe away the guard’s rude touch. Kindra rummaged at the dead man’s belt, found his keys and began to try them one by one in the heavy lock. Locked on the outside, not within. Less against invaders than against the escape of one of his women … The lock was stiff; it seemed to Rohana, quaking in the quiet street, that it creaked loudly enough to alarm the whole town, but after a moment it gave and the door swung noiselessly inward. The band of Amazons crowded inside, shrinking against the inner wall, pushing the door closed.