mother’s
eunuch brother, another unfortunate casualty of the Siege of the
Istara.
The grim nature of the
situation limited my options. I could fight, flee, or surrender. Of
those, my circumstances in this situation dictated flight. But
could I leave my mother to be arrested, tortured, and then killed
to save myself?
Not a chance in the Nine
Hells.
As a matter of fact, was
that even Mother down there? After all, Father always said it
seldom paid to trust a wizard.
Mother could’ve been killed
during the fighting, hidden herself away, or fled in a panic into
the dead of night. No, she wouldn’t have left without me; always
the lioness, my mother would have fought to protect her family and
her property. Much as I did that night. And did every night until
Istara was free.
Rising from a crouch, I
stared down the intruders in my home. But I paid special attention
to the woman being held at knifepoint. If it was my mother, she’d
understand. Having risen from the ranks of slavery to the merchant
class, she understood suffering and sacrifice better than most. And
as a good daughter, I knew that my mother would rather face death
than rape and imprisonment.
I raised my recurved bow
slowly, deliberately. Not knowing my intended target, the enemy
scattered, all but the wizard, his henchmen, and my struggling
mother. Fear danced in their eyes as surely as the firelight of the
house lanterns.
Taking aim at the woman in
the burly man’s arms, I expected to see something other than terror
in her wide eyes. Where was the love I had come to know every
moment of every day as those eyes had watched me grow into the
woman standing before her?
Absent. Wholly
absent.
The arrow, sinking to the
fletching, struck her swiftly, solidly, just above the peak of her
bosom. My mother vanished instantly, replaced by a mortally wounded
man of Golthus. Uffu cursed as the arrow shattered his
illusion.
The bloodstained lips of the
soldier holding the knife informed me that my missile had
penetrated him as well as the doppelganger. Death claimed both men
before they crumpled to the floor at the feet of the infuriated
wizard.
Relief flooded me as did the
fresh tears from the corners of my tired eyes. My knees buckled
slightly, forcing me to regain my balance. Thank the gods and
goddesses above, my intuition had been right! But where was my
mother?
“ Remove the woman,” Uffu
bellowed, inadvertently answering my nagging question.
Two bearded men dragged my
mother kicking and flailing from behind a bookcase. Though bound
and gagged, she fought like the wildcat I knew and loved. But more
men waited outside in the street to spirit her away before my very
eyes.
The odious mage added with a
grin, “I’ll handle the girl.”
“ Handle this, you old
pervert,” I cried, sending a wooden shaft tipped with a steel head
in his direction.
Uffu waved a hand leisurely,
forcing my arrow off course.
The wizard smiled wickedly
and said, “Now it’s my turn, little one.”
Uffu slapped his hands
together thunderously, muttering in an arcane tongue. As his hands
parted, a spark blossomed and then caught between them. A spiraling
arc of fire jetted from his open palms, shooting upward, seeking me
out.
As I dove for the closest
doorframe, I felt the flames at my back. My loose dressing gown
caught immediately, the heat from the wizard’s weave scorching my
tender, young flesh. Modesty took a rear carriage seat to survival.
I tore at the garment, flinging it as far away from me as
possible.
With nowhere left to go but
out the window, I tossed the shutters aside and scrambled onto the
narrow stone ledge. Unembarrassed by my natural state, I fled the
rapidly spreading flames in naught but my knickers and boots,
carrying only my bow and quiver. Shimmying down the drainpipe must
have been a sight for the neighbors but I did not care. I thought
only of escape, so that I might rescue my mother. If not that
night, then soon.
III.
In the aftermath of
eunuch brother, another unfortunate casualty of the Siege of the
Istara.
The grim nature of the
situation limited my options. I could fight, flee, or surrender. Of
those, my circumstances in this situation dictated flight. But
could I leave my mother to be arrested, tortured, and then killed
to save myself?
Not a chance in the Nine
Hells.
As a matter of fact, was
that even Mother down there? After all, Father always said it
seldom paid to trust a wizard.
Mother could’ve been killed
during the fighting, hidden herself away, or fled in a panic into
the dead of night. No, she wouldn’t have left without me; always
the lioness, my mother would have fought to protect her family and
her property. Much as I did that night. And did every night until
Istara was free.
Rising from a crouch, I
stared down the intruders in my home. But I paid special attention
to the woman being held at knifepoint. If it was my mother, she’d
understand. Having risen from the ranks of slavery to the merchant
class, she understood suffering and sacrifice better than most. And
as a good daughter, I knew that my mother would rather face death
than rape and imprisonment.
I raised my recurved bow
slowly, deliberately. Not knowing my intended target, the enemy
scattered, all but the wizard, his henchmen, and my struggling
mother. Fear danced in their eyes as surely as the firelight of the
house lanterns.
Taking aim at the woman in
the burly man’s arms, I expected to see something other than terror
in her wide eyes. Where was the love I had come to know every
moment of every day as those eyes had watched me grow into the
woman standing before her?
Absent. Wholly
absent.
The arrow, sinking to the
fletching, struck her swiftly, solidly, just above the peak of her
bosom. My mother vanished instantly, replaced by a mortally wounded
man of Golthus. Uffu cursed as the arrow shattered his
illusion.
The bloodstained lips of the
soldier holding the knife informed me that my missile had
penetrated him as well as the doppelganger. Death claimed both men
before they crumpled to the floor at the feet of the infuriated
wizard.
Relief flooded me as did the
fresh tears from the corners of my tired eyes. My knees buckled
slightly, forcing me to regain my balance. Thank the gods and
goddesses above, my intuition had been right! But where was my
mother?
“ Remove the woman,” Uffu
bellowed, inadvertently answering my nagging question.
Two bearded men dragged my
mother kicking and flailing from behind a bookcase. Though bound
and gagged, she fought like the wildcat I knew and loved. But more
men waited outside in the street to spirit her away before my very
eyes.
The odious mage added with a
grin, “I’ll handle the girl.”
“ Handle this, you old
pervert,” I cried, sending a wooden shaft tipped with a steel head
in his direction.
Uffu waved a hand leisurely,
forcing my arrow off course.
The wizard smiled wickedly
and said, “Now it’s my turn, little one.”
Uffu slapped his hands
together thunderously, muttering in an arcane tongue. As his hands
parted, a spark blossomed and then caught between them. A spiraling
arc of fire jetted from his open palms, shooting upward, seeking me
out.
As I dove for the closest
doorframe, I felt the flames at my back. My loose dressing gown
caught immediately, the heat from the wizard’s weave scorching my
tender, young flesh. Modesty took a rear carriage seat to survival.
I tore at the garment, flinging it as far away from me as
possible.
With nowhere left to go but
out the window, I tossed the shutters aside and scrambled onto the
narrow stone ledge. Unembarrassed by my natural state, I fled the
rapidly spreading flames in naught but my knickers and boots,
carrying only my bow and quiver. Shimmying down the drainpipe must
have been a sight for the neighbors but I did not care. I thought
only of escape, so that I might rescue my mother. If not that
night, then soon.
III.
In the aftermath of
Similar Books
