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In Nothern Twilight
Nov. 20th, 2013 02:29 pm(Excerpt from the third Exalted novel)
Samea drew a long breath, exhauted from her efforts, and stared into the sacred circle. Around her, the great stone room was once again silent and still. Here, hidden deep within the mountain, beyond miles of twisting corridors, behind solid granite doors, even the air was now at rest.
The stone floor beneath her feet was perfectly smooth, save for at its center. There, ageless arcane symbols cast in orichalcum were inlaid in a circle that glowed warm gold against the cold gray stone of the granite floor. On each side of the ring of runes ran a deeply etched channel full of clean sea salt. Abhorrent to most spirits, these conduits ensured that hungry ghosts could neither enter nor exit the center area. Within the protected ring, the inner circle would have taken ten strides to cross and was, again, seamless. Centuries of devoted attention had left it polished smooth as obsidian.
Directly in the center of the circle were two metal lions, crafted of rare orichalcum. Each stood higher at the shoulder than the tallest man in Samea’s tribe, and between them, the pair contained enough of the precious metal to bring tears to the richest merchant’s eye. The lions’ features glowed in the unwavering light of the room’s oil lamps, echoing the golden gleam from the ward-runes. Every detail of the first statue was perfectly matched in the second. Each hair and whisker of the pair was identical. Samea gazed upon them without breathing, and for long moments, the room was frozen in timeless stillness as the lions stared back at her in golden stolidity.
She jumped as one of the metal lions yawned, breaking the silence. His jaws stretched enormously, metallic tongue curling past golden teeth that were as long and sharp as daggers.
The muscular feline stepped forward, shaking his great mane. Each step echoed with a metallic ring against the stone floor. The lion sat, looking down with disdain at the rune-scribed border, then he returned his indignant gaze to the woman who had summoned him and his companion from their rest in the Celestial City of Yu-Shan. Wisely, the woman stood just outside of his reach beyond the binding rings. Looking past her, the lion surveyed the rest of the cavernous room.
Things were much as they had been since time beyond time. But here and there, changes had been wrought. Bookcases still lined two of the walls, carved directly into the stone. The lion remembered them from long ago. Back then, they had been filled with great leather-bound tomes and woven baskets of scrolls, herbs and other sacred items. Now, more than half of the shelves lay empty. At least the dust of the long darkness had been cleared away.
The farthest wall still held the enormous altar shelf, also hewn from the granite of the mountain itself. In the time of beginnings, the long open lamps that were carved into the altar had never lacked for oil. Supplicants would arrive, heavily laden with tribute. Among their gifts was oil from the immense seals found on the Inland Sea coastline several days distant. In the earliest times, the lamps had glowed constantly, but then had come centuries of disuse and darkness. Now, once again, the lamps had been filled with sacred oil and glowed warmly. The room shone, illuminated as it had not been for hundreds of years.
Opposite the altar, behind the dark-haired woman who had called forth the lions, two great stone doors still stood. The lion wondered how many thousands of times he had watched those gates swing wide, clearing the winding passage upward and outward to the rest of the temple. They had been crafted so masterfully that even the slightest touch could open them. The intricate carvings that decorated their sturdy locks now gleamed, polished after centuries of tarnished inattention. Someone had attended to this temple as it had not been for centuries.
The huge lion returned his attention to the woman standing before him, looking at her while his counterpart stretched languidly behind him.
“You have called us from our slumber, human,” the lion rumbled. “Why have you disturbed us?”
Samea straightened, donning an air of authority as tangible as the mountain stone around them. She was no longer a young woman, but her body was straight and lean, and her muscles were strong. Her dress was made of the felted wool of tundra sheep and was plain cut and unadorned, a stark contrast to her fluid and ornate words. Her voice filled the huge granite chamber almost as richly as the lion’s had.
“You have slumbered, honored guardian spirit, because this place, once great and glorious, is no longer so. What once stood proud fell so long ago that even its ruins no longer needed protection. The glories of the First Age are gone, swept from the memories of the people of Creation as surely as if they had never been. And gone with them is your purpose for being.”
With her bare feet planted against the cool, gray floor, the woman was as deeply grounded as if she had been born of that rock herself.
“Long have I have studied the tomes, Celestial Lion,” she said. “I know as few others do that there was a time when this place was not what it is now. I know its purpose, and yours, and I offer you a bargain.”
The lions watched her intensely as she addressed them, and Samea suddenly realized how a lemming must feel under the gaze of an owl. The golden spirit farthest from her was indiscernible from its partner save in body language. He moved with an air of slinking stealth, where his companionwas brusque and forceful. The quiet spirit stole back and forth, pacing the furthest arc of the salt binding circle as if instinctively trying to flank Samea, watching her with a crafty gleam in his eye. The tuft of metallic fur at the tip of his tail twitched impatiently.
Samea hesitated, studying the lions intently. Dealing with spirits was a tricky business, and she knew that much of her agenda relied on being able to recruit this pair as she had the demon Florivet. Florivet’s inherent desire to travel and explore the unknown had given Samea a firm path to approaching him, but these two celestial lions were a less known quantity. She continued addressing the closest spirit as an honored equal, her words chosen with the same care a seasoned icewalker would put into traversing the snows at spring thaw.
“Neglect has taken this place from its former purpose. Its secrets are now stored away in volumes written in languages few can remember ever existing, let alone decipher. What has not been stolen by rodents or raitons to line their nests had been rendered useless by time and deception. Your former purpose may be restored to you, honored guardian, if that be your desire. It is within the power of my Circle to do so.”
Samea watched the lions for a reaction, ready to send them back to the Celestial City she had called them from if they appeared hostile. She knew that some guardians fell to madness when denied their purpose. These two had been so long in the spirit world, away from this former temple, that it might have affected their sanity. Seeing no reaction yet, she continued.
“Twilight is falling,” Samea said, her voice rising with an air of prophecy. “The time of the Terrestrial’s reign is coming to a close. A new Age is upon us, and the new Dawn of the Solars is inevitable. The lies told by the Dragon- Blooded will be burned away, and the truth will shine forth like the Unconquered Sun himself!”
The brusque, dominant lion yawned again, imperiously putting an end to Samea’s visionary proclamationwith the gesture. “Enough,” he growled. “You will drive us back to slumber before you have finished.”
Samea nodded, continuing more succinctly. “What I wish is simple, honored guardians. Your aid in returning Creation to rightness. Your strength, your cunning, your wisdom.”
The celestial lion regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment, his orichalcum eyes gleaming in the lamplight. “And in return?” he asked, leaning down as close to Samea as he could, within the confines of the binding circle. “What do you offer us?”
“In return for your aid, when all is as it should be: when the Solar Exalted are no longer Anathema, but are returned to their rightful place as leaders of Creation, then I will see that this temple is returned to its former glory as a bastion of sacred knowledge and worship and that seekers again attend these halls to understand the mysteries and wonders of the five winds.”
The lion glanced over his shoulder at his companion for a long moment, exchanging some silent communication that was beyond Samea’s comprehension. He then turned his attention back to the waiting witch. His slitted yellow eyes took her in, drilling intensely into her own. Samea felt his gaze tunnel deeply, as if he could see not only all that was within her, but all that she had ever been and all that she would ever be. Though only seconds passed, it was an eternity for her. At length, the lion straightened to his full height and then nodded regally. Samea relaxed in relief. Perhaps this would not be as difficult a task as she’d feared.
“We will require one thing further,” the lion purred, ending Samea’s moment of respite. Behind him, the other groomed himself lazily. He spread one golden paw, worrying between the toes at some imperceptible imperfection, and then rubbed the wet paw from the golden mane at his forehead down over his muzzle. The gesture was remarkably like that of a domesticated cat, despite the beast’s size.
Samea was once again struck with the impression of being rodent prey in the presence of these feline hunters. She nodded, waiting to hear the lions’ demand. “The life of a child.”
“I…” Samea hesitated. “You ask a heavy price.”
The nearest lion tilted his head, regarding her coolly. “You ask a heavy bargain. Not for one act do you call us forth. We have been set to guard, to kill, to protect. One service for a year and a day, that is the way. But you ask for our service on many levels and offer only the chance of success in return.”
Samea nodded, knowing she was pushing the limits of the summoning spell beyond their traditional usage. She wanted not only the obedience of these spirits, but their cunning and aid. She needed them as allies rather than imprisoned slaves.
She hesitated for only a moment and then nodded. Her tribe had existed since its beginning on the edge between life and death. Most of the Northlands were too cold and hostile to farm. Instead, the Blackwater Mammoth tribe followed the great herds as they traveled through the tundra. Sometimes, a winter would come that stretched longer than usual, where the winds’ bite was crueler than the tribe remembered it to be. At times such as those, even bountiful stores ran empty, and the summer season’s gathering of food lapsed to a bitter memory. In winters such as those, it was not unheard of for unwanted children to be left to the snows. Too many mouths meant everyone starved, and the tribe must go on.
Now, in war, just as in harsh winter, difficult times brought the need for difficult actions. The sacrifice of one life to save many more was a regrettable, but acceptable, loss. “It will be done.”
“Then, we will do as you ask,” the lion agreed. His promise hung in the air, almost tangible in its enormity. Samea bowed deeply, her long black hair veiling her face. When she raised her gaze, the stone circle was empty once more.
*** *** *** *** ***
Samea finished her medicinal preparation, putting everything neatly away in a compartmentalized bag she had woven specifically to hold her apothecary paraphernalia. She hung it with care on the woven wall on the eastern side of the tent, before returning her attention to Yurgen.
“So,” he said, stretching after getting to his feet. “How are your allies doing? Happy?” He slowly began pacing the curve of the tent in a gesture Samea was well familiar with; Something had him worried.
“Yes, actually. Amazingly well. Florivet has been a bit petulant, but that is his way. I think he’s enjoying this more than he lets on.” She paused, frowning slightly. “I had some trepidation, as you know, about the price that the lions demanded to agree to aid us. And then, they’d been so adamant I didn’t think I’d ever find someone to meet their specifications. When I finally did…” Samea shook her head. “Nena was a sweet girl. Maybe five. Her mother had died a few years ago, and her father was one of the first Haltans we lost in Rokan-jin. Big dark eyes, green hair. I ended up bringing her to them and expected… well, I expected it not to be pleasant.”
Yurgen nodded, continuing to pace. “And she was acceptable?”
Samea chuckled softly, remembering the evening she’d brought the young sacrifice to the celestial lions. It had been very late, and the child drowsed in the wholesome exhaustion of a creature who still gave every waking moment her all. Samea, fearing the worst, had given her a dose of numbvine to aid her calm, and the child had dozed against Samea’s shoulder as she carried her into the clearing the lions claimed as their territory.
The one she’d come to think of as dominant had paused in his grooming, looking over at the witch as she entered. He carefully finished smoothing his shoulder fur and then padded slowly over. His partner, the sly one, had raised one lazy eyelid, regarding Samea for one long moment, and then returned to slumber.
“This is the one you promised?” The lion had drawn near, forcing Samea to crane her neck upward to address him directly.
Samea had nodded slowly, as the child in her arms wriggled sleepily. “She is as you asked, honored guardians. A child of the forest, orphaned, of the right age.”
The lion had leaned down then until its shining metal muzzle was nearly touching the child’s mossy hair. It drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the ritual herbs Samea had put in the girl’s bath that evening and the fresh smell of childhood.
“She will suffice.” The lion had stepped back and settled onto his haunches to wait.
Samea had found herself hesitant, now that the time had actually come to give the offering over to the spirits. She paused for a long moment and then steeled herself for what was to come. The lion’s cooperation had likely saved the lives of dozens, if not hundreds, in this war already.
The sacrifice of one was a small price to pay.
She had stood the young girl onto her feet, gently pushing her toward the spirit that had claimed her. The girl, dressed only in a sleeveless woven play shift, had wobbled uncertainly, the late hour and numbvine taking away any grace the child possessed.
Unable to bear the waiting any longer, Samea had given the little one a harder push, sending her across the short distance between herself and the lion. “One request, noble spirit. Please, make it quick, please? The child does not deserve to suffer.”
The lion had tilted its head curiously. “You are mistaken, witch. On many levels. Do not think you know us so well. This will take a very long time.”
Samea had frowned, stiffening as her mind replayed a montage of the horrors she had seen inflicted in the course of her lifetime. Tortures and slaughters, sacrifices and murders ran through her thoughts, leaving her pale and barely suppressing her desire to snatch the child back to safety. As she’d watched in horror, the lion had lowered its face over the child, stretching wide open it’s gleaming metal jaws. Despite herself, Samea had squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the meaty crunch of the spirit’s first bite.
The child’s clear laughter rang in the glen. Samea’s eyes had flown open, and she’d been amazed to see the lion standing vigilantly over the girl child while his partner gently held her down with one metal paw. The sly one had softly lapped at the squirming child’s face with a golden tongue easily as large as the child’s entire head, as the laughing child wriggled to be released.
At the sight of Samea’s bewildered stare, the dominant lion had smiled smugly. “Do not think you know more than you do, little witch. A full belly is not the only need we have; when our temple is restored, when you have won this war of yours, we will need one who understand our needs and will serve us diligently. This one will suffice.”
Samea had made the trek back through the forest to her own camp that night, pondering the lion’s words.
“Acceptable?” Samea said now, answering Yurgen. “Yes. I’d say so. Within minutes, she was crawling all over them, and the pair of them were purring like kittens. When I left, she was feeding them chunks of horse meat the size of my fist, and they were licking her hands clean.” She shook her head. “When the war is won, they said. I suppose that’s a good sign? They believe we’re going to win.”
“You had any doubt?” Yurgen paused, leveling a steely stare at her.
“Things are going well, so far. And all the portents indicate they will continue to do so. I don’t yet know what to make of the reports that the Scarlet Empress has withdrawn or gone into hiding, but for now, the chaos it seems to have brought serves us well. I haven’t heard of a Wyld Hunt being completed in months, and that means more possible allies.” She paused,thoughtfully. “But of course I worry.”
“Well, don’t let it pass these walls.” Yurgen gestured around him, returning to his pacing. “The others, they need to see only confidence. We will prevail. We must.”
Samea nodded in agreement. “Of course we will.” But in her heart, she wondered which of them she was reassuring.
Samea drew a long breath, exhauted from her efforts, and stared into the sacred circle. Around her, the great stone room was once again silent and still. Here, hidden deep within the mountain, beyond miles of twisting corridors, behind solid granite doors, even the air was now at rest.
The stone floor beneath her feet was perfectly smooth, save for at its center. There, ageless arcane symbols cast in orichalcum were inlaid in a circle that glowed warm gold against the cold gray stone of the granite floor. On each side of the ring of runes ran a deeply etched channel full of clean sea salt. Abhorrent to most spirits, these conduits ensured that hungry ghosts could neither enter nor exit the center area. Within the protected ring, the inner circle would have taken ten strides to cross and was, again, seamless. Centuries of devoted attention had left it polished smooth as obsidian.
Directly in the center of the circle were two metal lions, crafted of rare orichalcum. Each stood higher at the shoulder than the tallest man in Samea’s tribe, and between them, the pair contained enough of the precious metal to bring tears to the richest merchant’s eye. The lions’ features glowed in the unwavering light of the room’s oil lamps, echoing the golden gleam from the ward-runes. Every detail of the first statue was perfectly matched in the second. Each hair and whisker of the pair was identical. Samea gazed upon them without breathing, and for long moments, the room was frozen in timeless stillness as the lions stared back at her in golden stolidity.
She jumped as one of the metal lions yawned, breaking the silence. His jaws stretched enormously, metallic tongue curling past golden teeth that were as long and sharp as daggers.
The muscular feline stepped forward, shaking his great mane. Each step echoed with a metallic ring against the stone floor. The lion sat, looking down with disdain at the rune-scribed border, then he returned his indignant gaze to the woman who had summoned him and his companion from their rest in the Celestial City of Yu-Shan. Wisely, the woman stood just outside of his reach beyond the binding rings. Looking past her, the lion surveyed the rest of the cavernous room.
Things were much as they had been since time beyond time. But here and there, changes had been wrought. Bookcases still lined two of the walls, carved directly into the stone. The lion remembered them from long ago. Back then, they had been filled with great leather-bound tomes and woven baskets of scrolls, herbs and other sacred items. Now, more than half of the shelves lay empty. At least the dust of the long darkness had been cleared away.
The farthest wall still held the enormous altar shelf, also hewn from the granite of the mountain itself. In the time of beginnings, the long open lamps that were carved into the altar had never lacked for oil. Supplicants would arrive, heavily laden with tribute. Among their gifts was oil from the immense seals found on the Inland Sea coastline several days distant. In the earliest times, the lamps had glowed constantly, but then had come centuries of disuse and darkness. Now, once again, the lamps had been filled with sacred oil and glowed warmly. The room shone, illuminated as it had not been for hundreds of years.
Opposite the altar, behind the dark-haired woman who had called forth the lions, two great stone doors still stood. The lion wondered how many thousands of times he had watched those gates swing wide, clearing the winding passage upward and outward to the rest of the temple. They had been crafted so masterfully that even the slightest touch could open them. The intricate carvings that decorated their sturdy locks now gleamed, polished after centuries of tarnished inattention. Someone had attended to this temple as it had not been for centuries.
The huge lion returned his attention to the woman standing before him, looking at her while his counterpart stretched languidly behind him.
“You have called us from our slumber, human,” the lion rumbled. “Why have you disturbed us?”
Samea straightened, donning an air of authority as tangible as the mountain stone around them. She was no longer a young woman, but her body was straight and lean, and her muscles were strong. Her dress was made of the felted wool of tundra sheep and was plain cut and unadorned, a stark contrast to her fluid and ornate words. Her voice filled the huge granite chamber almost as richly as the lion’s had.
“You have slumbered, honored guardian spirit, because this place, once great and glorious, is no longer so. What once stood proud fell so long ago that even its ruins no longer needed protection. The glories of the First Age are gone, swept from the memories of the people of Creation as surely as if they had never been. And gone with them is your purpose for being.”
With her bare feet planted against the cool, gray floor, the woman was as deeply grounded as if she had been born of that rock herself.
“Long have I have studied the tomes, Celestial Lion,” she said. “I know as few others do that there was a time when this place was not what it is now. I know its purpose, and yours, and I offer you a bargain.”
The lions watched her intensely as she addressed them, and Samea suddenly realized how a lemming must feel under the gaze of an owl. The golden spirit farthest from her was indiscernible from its partner save in body language. He moved with an air of slinking stealth, where his companionwas brusque and forceful. The quiet spirit stole back and forth, pacing the furthest arc of the salt binding circle as if instinctively trying to flank Samea, watching her with a crafty gleam in his eye. The tuft of metallic fur at the tip of his tail twitched impatiently.
Samea hesitated, studying the lions intently. Dealing with spirits was a tricky business, and she knew that much of her agenda relied on being able to recruit this pair as she had the demon Florivet. Florivet’s inherent desire to travel and explore the unknown had given Samea a firm path to approaching him, but these two celestial lions were a less known quantity. She continued addressing the closest spirit as an honored equal, her words chosen with the same care a seasoned icewalker would put into traversing the snows at spring thaw.
“Neglect has taken this place from its former purpose. Its secrets are now stored away in volumes written in languages few can remember ever existing, let alone decipher. What has not been stolen by rodents or raitons to line their nests had been rendered useless by time and deception. Your former purpose may be restored to you, honored guardian, if that be your desire. It is within the power of my Circle to do so.”
Samea watched the lions for a reaction, ready to send them back to the Celestial City she had called them from if they appeared hostile. She knew that some guardians fell to madness when denied their purpose. These two had been so long in the spirit world, away from this former temple, that it might have affected their sanity. Seeing no reaction yet, she continued.
“Twilight is falling,” Samea said, her voice rising with an air of prophecy. “The time of the Terrestrial’s reign is coming to a close. A new Age is upon us, and the new Dawn of the Solars is inevitable. The lies told by the Dragon- Blooded will be burned away, and the truth will shine forth like the Unconquered Sun himself!”
The brusque, dominant lion yawned again, imperiously putting an end to Samea’s visionary proclamationwith the gesture. “Enough,” he growled. “You will drive us back to slumber before you have finished.”
Samea nodded, continuing more succinctly. “What I wish is simple, honored guardians. Your aid in returning Creation to rightness. Your strength, your cunning, your wisdom.”
The celestial lion regarded her thoughtfully for a long moment, his orichalcum eyes gleaming in the lamplight. “And in return?” he asked, leaning down as close to Samea as he could, within the confines of the binding circle. “What do you offer us?”
“In return for your aid, when all is as it should be: when the Solar Exalted are no longer Anathema, but are returned to their rightful place as leaders of Creation, then I will see that this temple is returned to its former glory as a bastion of sacred knowledge and worship and that seekers again attend these halls to understand the mysteries and wonders of the five winds.”
The lion glanced over his shoulder at his companion for a long moment, exchanging some silent communication that was beyond Samea’s comprehension. He then turned his attention back to the waiting witch. His slitted yellow eyes took her in, drilling intensely into her own. Samea felt his gaze tunnel deeply, as if he could see not only all that was within her, but all that she had ever been and all that she would ever be. Though only seconds passed, it was an eternity for her. At length, the lion straightened to his full height and then nodded regally. Samea relaxed in relief. Perhaps this would not be as difficult a task as she’d feared.
“We will require one thing further,” the lion purred, ending Samea’s moment of respite. Behind him, the other groomed himself lazily. He spread one golden paw, worrying between the toes at some imperceptible imperfection, and then rubbed the wet paw from the golden mane at his forehead down over his muzzle. The gesture was remarkably like that of a domesticated cat, despite the beast’s size.
Samea was once again struck with the impression of being rodent prey in the presence of these feline hunters. She nodded, waiting to hear the lions’ demand. “The life of a child.”
“I…” Samea hesitated. “You ask a heavy price.”
The nearest lion tilted his head, regarding her coolly. “You ask a heavy bargain. Not for one act do you call us forth. We have been set to guard, to kill, to protect. One service for a year and a day, that is the way. But you ask for our service on many levels and offer only the chance of success in return.”
Samea nodded, knowing she was pushing the limits of the summoning spell beyond their traditional usage. She wanted not only the obedience of these spirits, but their cunning and aid. She needed them as allies rather than imprisoned slaves.
She hesitated for only a moment and then nodded. Her tribe had existed since its beginning on the edge between life and death. Most of the Northlands were too cold and hostile to farm. Instead, the Blackwater Mammoth tribe followed the great herds as they traveled through the tundra. Sometimes, a winter would come that stretched longer than usual, where the winds’ bite was crueler than the tribe remembered it to be. At times such as those, even bountiful stores ran empty, and the summer season’s gathering of food lapsed to a bitter memory. In winters such as those, it was not unheard of for unwanted children to be left to the snows. Too many mouths meant everyone starved, and the tribe must go on.
Now, in war, just as in harsh winter, difficult times brought the need for difficult actions. The sacrifice of one life to save many more was a regrettable, but acceptable, loss. “It will be done.”
“Then, we will do as you ask,” the lion agreed. His promise hung in the air, almost tangible in its enormity. Samea bowed deeply, her long black hair veiling her face. When she raised her gaze, the stone circle was empty once more.
Samea finished her medicinal preparation, putting everything neatly away in a compartmentalized bag she had woven specifically to hold her apothecary paraphernalia. She hung it with care on the woven wall on the eastern side of the tent, before returning her attention to Yurgen.
“So,” he said, stretching after getting to his feet. “How are your allies doing? Happy?” He slowly began pacing the curve of the tent in a gesture Samea was well familiar with; Something had him worried.
“Yes, actually. Amazingly well. Florivet has been a bit petulant, but that is his way. I think he’s enjoying this more than he lets on.” She paused, frowning slightly. “I had some trepidation, as you know, about the price that the lions demanded to agree to aid us. And then, they’d been so adamant I didn’t think I’d ever find someone to meet their specifications. When I finally did…” Samea shook her head. “Nena was a sweet girl. Maybe five. Her mother had died a few years ago, and her father was one of the first Haltans we lost in Rokan-jin. Big dark eyes, green hair. I ended up bringing her to them and expected… well, I expected it not to be pleasant.”
Yurgen nodded, continuing to pace. “And she was acceptable?”
Samea chuckled softly, remembering the evening she’d brought the young sacrifice to the celestial lions. It had been very late, and the child drowsed in the wholesome exhaustion of a creature who still gave every waking moment her all. Samea, fearing the worst, had given her a dose of numbvine to aid her calm, and the child had dozed against Samea’s shoulder as she carried her into the clearing the lions claimed as their territory.
The one she’d come to think of as dominant had paused in his grooming, looking over at the witch as she entered. He carefully finished smoothing his shoulder fur and then padded slowly over. His partner, the sly one, had raised one lazy eyelid, regarding Samea for one long moment, and then returned to slumber.
“This is the one you promised?” The lion had drawn near, forcing Samea to crane her neck upward to address him directly.
Samea had nodded slowly, as the child in her arms wriggled sleepily. “She is as you asked, honored guardians. A child of the forest, orphaned, of the right age.”
The lion had leaned down then until its shining metal muzzle was nearly touching the child’s mossy hair. It drew in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the ritual herbs Samea had put in the girl’s bath that evening and the fresh smell of childhood.
“She will suffice.” The lion had stepped back and settled onto his haunches to wait.
Samea had found herself hesitant, now that the time had actually come to give the offering over to the spirits. She paused for a long moment and then steeled herself for what was to come. The lion’s cooperation had likely saved the lives of dozens, if not hundreds, in this war already.
The sacrifice of one was a small price to pay.
She had stood the young girl onto her feet, gently pushing her toward the spirit that had claimed her. The girl, dressed only in a sleeveless woven play shift, had wobbled uncertainly, the late hour and numbvine taking away any grace the child possessed.
Unable to bear the waiting any longer, Samea had given the little one a harder push, sending her across the short distance between herself and the lion. “One request, noble spirit. Please, make it quick, please? The child does not deserve to suffer.”
The lion had tilted its head curiously. “You are mistaken, witch. On many levels. Do not think you know us so well. This will take a very long time.”
Samea had frowned, stiffening as her mind replayed a montage of the horrors she had seen inflicted in the course of her lifetime. Tortures and slaughters, sacrifices and murders ran through her thoughts, leaving her pale and barely suppressing her desire to snatch the child back to safety. As she’d watched in horror, the lion had lowered its face over the child, stretching wide open it’s gleaming metal jaws. Despite herself, Samea had squeezed her eyes shut, preparing for the meaty crunch of the spirit’s first bite.
The child’s clear laughter rang in the glen. Samea’s eyes had flown open, and she’d been amazed to see the lion standing vigilantly over the girl child while his partner gently held her down with one metal paw. The sly one had softly lapped at the squirming child’s face with a golden tongue easily as large as the child’s entire head, as the laughing child wriggled to be released.
At the sight of Samea’s bewildered stare, the dominant lion had smiled smugly. “Do not think you know more than you do, little witch. A full belly is not the only need we have; when our temple is restored, when you have won this war of yours, we will need one who understand our needs and will serve us diligently. This one will suffice.”
Samea had made the trek back through the forest to her own camp that night, pondering the lion’s words.
“Acceptable?” Samea said now, answering Yurgen. “Yes. I’d say so. Within minutes, she was crawling all over them, and the pair of them were purring like kittens. When I left, she was feeding them chunks of horse meat the size of my fist, and they were licking her hands clean.” She shook her head. “When the war is won, they said. I suppose that’s a good sign? They believe we’re going to win.”
“You had any doubt?” Yurgen paused, leveling a steely stare at her.
“Things are going well, so far. And all the portents indicate they will continue to do so. I don’t yet know what to make of the reports that the Scarlet Empress has withdrawn or gone into hiding, but for now, the chaos it seems to have brought serves us well. I haven’t heard of a Wyld Hunt being completed in months, and that means more possible allies.” She paused,thoughtfully. “But of course I worry.”
“Well, don’t let it pass these walls.” Yurgen gestured around him, returning to his pacing. “The others, they need to see only confidence. We will prevail. We must.”
Samea nodded in agreement. “Of course we will.” But in her heart, she wondered which of them she was reassuring.
