5 Days Left

Minul staggered out of the smoke haze that lingered in the party room, past the injured and wounded tethers, and onto the gardens beyond before her legs gave out. With a hollow thump she fell onto her knees emptying her stomach for the third time since she’d been so horribly disturbed this night.

Her arms shook as she pushed to roll away from her vomit. The night was dark and terrifying. She had no idea where the monster had gone, surely no human, tethered or otherwise, could’ve done such things as what she’d done. Minul had seen the hole clean through her chest, she’d seen the beating hearts and working lungs.

Her fingers were raw and sensitive from soaking in blood and water as she’d employed the best her field-aid training could deliver.

“My Queen,” she heard Svadr say. The servant wasn’t trained in any first-aid, but she was still stained with the blood and offal of the dying as she’d helped carry the wounded, both physically and mentally. “We have the final numbers.”

Minul closed her eyes there were no more tears left in them anyway. She really didn’t have it in her to hear the numbers. She’d seen enough. The people who’d been affected. The tethered. She’d arrived to see a master twice her age crying and rocking himself in a corner. She’d accidentally picked up one of Hildrid’s cold fingers when she’d been helping the woman. The stiff and cold digit had been lying in a pool of her husband’s blood.

“Give them to me,” Minul forced herself to say. All she wanted to do was sent her servant away. Strong and silent Svadr, who even now stood waiting on her, the Queen, lying limp on the grass.

“Nineteen Masters and seven second-stages are dead. We have eleven tethered who seem non-functional. On top of that we have about twenty-three wounded but non-fatally. The healers are still working, but mostly everyone’s been stabilized and are in some sort of physical recovery.”

Minul swallowed, Twenty-six people that I’ve killed, her chin quivered but she didn’t let out the sob that threatened her throat, instead she forced herself to think. Why? Why would she attack like that? What was the point? Did she do it to spite me? Was she playing both sides? Acting like she was going to help both I and Inaaya? A horrible thought struck her, Could Saif have sent her?

She shook her head and sat up her body shaking from the effort. She was feeling too weak and shaky to lead, but that was the cost of her position. With a grunt she forced herself to stand and look at Svadr, “Send a team of guards out into the gardens, another to sweep the mansion. If they find any sign of what set Saleema off have them report to me.”

“Immediately, my Queen,” Svadr said with a bow. “Anything else?”

Minul nodded, “Summon the Lords to the main hall, then tell Svenar to get ready.”

Svadr hesitated looking at Minul and the Queen’s stomach dropped out under her. She’d forgotten. “My Queen, Master Svenar is dead.”

Right, Minul swallowed, “Then dig Saif up from whatever pit he’s hidden himself away in and send him to me.”

“And if we can’t?”

“Send for…” she considered for a moment, there had been quite a few tethered she could’ve counted on before tonight. She’d need someone to coordinate with the guards in Svenar’s role. Sighing, she knew there was one woman she could stir into a sufficient wrath for her purposes, “Hildrid or Captain Gorm.”

Svadr bowed and hurried away, Minul watched her go with a hollow pit in her stomach. There really isn’t a level too low for the depravity of humankind, is there? Shame filled her as she watched her servant go.

Instead, she started searching for one of the tethered Ragnar had recommended her.

Master Orulf stood outside on the terrace. His mustaches had been shaved to stitch the wound that ran from his lip up to his cheek bone. The grizzled teacher’s massive frame was silhouetted clearly against the light coming from inside the room.

The stench emanating from it was strong enough that Minul had to steel herself to approach close enough to talk to him. The stench of blood, guts, excrement, burnt flesh, and wood was a powerful enough cocktail that even from well away it permeated the air. She would occasionally get wafts of it from her own clothes as well, though she was happy it wasn’t as noticeable after leaving.

The room itself was a mess, stained and damaged beyond repair. A small fire had broken out on the second- and third-floor after Ayvir’s attack had blown a hole all the way through Minul’s private suite. Now that all the patients had been removed and the corpses had been mostly cleaned up only the destroyed furniture remained.

“Minul,” Orulf brumbled noting her approach. She didn’t react to his lack of honorific, this was not the night. “Ragnar told me something of what you planned.”

She shook her head, “Not this. Definitely not this.”

Something in the older man seemed to collapse and his shoulders rounded as his back bowed, “Thank Kurri and all her blessed children.”

Minul nodded, “But the night isn’t over yet and our duty isn’t yet done.”

“You mean?” Orulf asked.

Once more the Queen rocked her head in agreement, “The plan is moving forwards. It’s earlier than initially planned but this is the time to strike. You were meant to go with Svenar to the barracks, I need you to take over that duty for me.”

“That’s…” Orulf seemed to search for words. “I guess that’s why you’re the Queen.”

Minul didn’t react as the lumbering man headed off, she wanted to disagree with him. It was perhaps a reason why she shouldn’t be Queen. Minul noted the approach of a squad of guardsmen, silhouettes dark in the night, their shields on their arms as they approach.

“You were the ones sweeping the gardens?” She called as she stepped towards them. The four men exchanged a swift glance before nodding and saluting her.

“Your majesty, you should come see this,” One of them said. In the dark of the night Minul couldn’t quite make out the symbols on his uniform, but he must be the squad leader.

“Very well,” she muttered wiping her hands on her pants and stepped after them. They led her through a winding trail into depths of the gardens. The trees loomed large casting thick shadows on the terrain as they maneuvered further from the mansion.

Minul frowned looking around, “Is it much farther? I have other business to attend to,” She almost trailed off mid-sentence as she noticed something she should’ve remarked on earlier. None of them were carrying a light-source. Not a lantern, not a bright-torch, not even a regular one. They were out in the forest in complete darkness, away from the tumult within the mansion. “I can’t be delayed too long.”

“It’s just over there, your Majesty,” one of them grunted as he pointed around a hedge. “You’ll really want to see this yourself.”

Minul noticed finally, how they’d hemmed her in. Gathering on all four sides of her. She was a quick and powerful warp-tethered capable of cutting through anything. The perfect weapon. But she was only a Sword and Disciplines were hard to move with energy flowing through them. Even dismissing the energy and moving would be tricky. Her heart beat faster as she realized her predicament. She could easily kill one of them before they reached her, likely two or even three. But not all four.

Minul embraced the pressure. She didn’t falter or outwardly react, she did so without even a second of hesitation in her step. As she suspected, she didn’t sense an ounce of power from any of them. They were all normal capable soldiers by the way they carried themselves. More importantly, they couldn’t be tracked. If she hadn’t caught on it would be hours before her corpse would be noticed.

She would have to act first, hopefully she would be able to cut two of them down with the same attack. The problem with warp, especially as a manipulator was most of her preparations were highly visible, she extended her Sword towards one of the men, but couldn’t find a position to get more than one. She’d have to leap so her Discipline overlapped multiple people.

Minul froze as her sweeping senses catching someone the edge of her awareness. The presence made her halt on the spot her stomach freezing a dozen times over. Shit, shit, shit.

She turned to face the oncoming woman mentally reaching for the knife in her sleeve ready to draw energy from its edge. The men surrounding her stopped as well, the man directly in front of her grabbed his sword in a moment of fear that gave them away.

They were by far the lesser threat now, Minul lashed out with a line of warp that cut through his arm and a half-hand into his stomach as she burst into a run.

“Get he—“ the man’s yell was interrupted by a flare of power from the woman approaching them. Minul watched as the three other men dropped dead, obsidian embedded in their chests, having punched through their bronze breastplates.

“Queen Minul,” Hildrid’s voice was different once more from how Minul remembered it. It had been warm and embracing after she’d emerged with Svenar, so different from the detached or even angry tones before their reuniting. Now it held a barely restrained fury, an anger that truly frightened Minul. “I assume they were enemies.”