Excerpt: Through Love and Hate

CHAPTER 1

The only illumination came from wall sconces reminiscent of torches scattered down the long hall. Only every third one was lit on opposite walls, so it appeared as alternating pockets of light amid the darkness. Tyna didn’t like the feel of the place; it made her sensitive skin crawl. Major dark magic had been performed somewhere on the premises in the last months, but not recently, yet the residue remained like a metaphysical version of a defunct slaughter house’s lingering stench. The stolen artifact she came for had to be returned to the temple, but with the darkness pervading her senses, she only hoped it hadn’t been desecrated.

The man behind her noted her hesitation and calmly waited, bowing to her judgment, knowing she would sense things that he would not. In the distance, around a corner in the maze of halls they’d just navigated, a trio of chatting feminine voices alerted him. Touching his companion on the lower back, Muir leaned in and whispered, “Company.”

Tyna nodded and, swallowing her trepidation, led them to the first unlocked room she came to. Through the bright moonlight shining through the uncovered window, it looked like an unused guest chamber.

Muir slipped the lock behind him then pressed his ear against the door, listening for the women’s prattle to pass. He assumed they were part of the harem that the stronghold’s master kept to amuse himself so would continue down that hall to reach the women’s quarters.

“Muir,” Tyna whispered. “It’s close by.” A four-inch long hazel rod hovered above her right palm, pointing further down the dim hall. That was not where she wanted to go; the dark stench was stronger there.

The tall man nodded and returned his attention to the women in the hall. He hoped they wouldn’t linger long. He wanted to be long gone before the sun rose. It had already taken them longer than anticipated to navigate the cliff face which guarded the stronghold’s eastern exposure.

“I wonder if he will be calling on any of us tonight,” one of the voices said.

“He’s too interested in his latest toy,” another said with scorn.

“He’s been playing with her for months,” the third complained. “He may scare me sometimes, but I miss the attention.”

“Don’t worry; he’ll tire of her like he eventually did all of us, then things will get back to normal.”

“I hope so.”

“Me, too. Some of those guests he shares us with are awful. I wish they’d leave.”

“I know what you mean. That old one with the long white beard is the worst of the lot.”

“He’s one sick bastard, but at least he can heal what damage he does, not like the others.”

“True.”

They paused. “Let’s take the longer way through the garden,” the second woman said the scorn replaced with reluctance edged in fear. “I…uh…don’t want to pass her room.”

The other women quickly agreed and they hurried off the way they’d come.

Tyna had joined Muir at the door and heard the exchange as well. She looked her companion in the eye. She was nearly as tall as he was so it was easy enough. “A reluctance spell,” she muttered, stepping back as he unlocked the door and peered out. “That would explain the trepidation I’ve been feeling.” She followed as he silently exited the room.

Tyna carefully closed the door behind her with her free hand. Now that she’d identified the source of her unwillingness to go on, she was able to ignore it and proceed with the mission at hand. She walked in the direction the enchanted rod indicated: the direction the three harem women had refused to go.

At the end of the hall, the corridor turned right. Muir remained at the corner to watch for possible discovery while Tyna cautiously paced down the hall half watching the tracking rod and half watching for approaching people. The rod increasingly pointed more to her left than ahead. About twenty feet down, she came even with a wide set of ornate double doors and the rod pointed directly through them. The artifact had to be in that room.

She gave a quick whistle to draw her co-conspirator’s attention. Muir leaned back from the edge of the wall and turned his head toward her, flicking his eyes to her hand. With a quick jerk of her head toward the doors, she pointed at them. Before he completed his single nod, she slid the small rod into a deep pocket along her thigh and then swept her hands a fraction of an inch above the surface to detect if any spells were on it.

Muir didn’t like that Tyna took all the risks when potential hostile magic was involved, but he was no wizard so had to trust in her considerable ability and skill, as she trusted in his. Nerves taut, he was ready for any number of possible outcomes as her hand carefully grasped the handle and slowly turned it.

The latch disengaged with a soft click.

Tyna let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding until just then as she pulled open the surprisingly unlocked door. She’d expected it to be more difficult to enter the sanctuary of the artifact. The stronghold was known for its extensive fortifications and the master for his extreme security. Pulling it open, she stepped back and let Muir slip inside first then followed just as silently. The door softly clicked behind her.

The room appeared to be a parlor with three doors leading from it, two to the right and one to the left. The rich décor had a decided feminine touch. The delicate furnishings and pastels and lace were not what Tyna expected when she finally found the hiding place for the temple’s missing artifact. It was, actually, the last sort of place she’d expected to find in this aristocrat’s fortress.

“Any spells?” Muir prompted when Tyna simply gazed about the room with a vague look of surprise on her face.

Embarrassment reddened her cheeks. Her focus was usually better than that. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply and spread her arms out from her sides, palms out, fingers closed and up. Other than the warding spells on the outer wall, which were curiously stronger here, she’d felt nothing out of the ordinary in the room.

Shaking her head, she said, “Nothing,” then moved to the first door on the right. Carefully, she eased the door open and looked inside with more than her eyes. Her suspicion confirmed, she pushed the door open and walked inside, marveling at the site. The gold-veined white marble bath was sunken into the floor. All the luxury a girl could want in a bath was there from the bath oils and salts to the thick fluffy towels lining the shelves.

With a sigh, Tyna nodded her head back to the door. She was a bit nostalgic for her own bath at the Enclave, though nowhere near as well appointed as this. She hadn’t had the opportunity for a long soak in a real tub for longer than she cared to admit.

They tried the second door on the right and it was as unguarded and unlocked as the rest. Pushing it open, Muir led the way and stopped just inside, frozen, though his sword was poised in readiness. Tyna stepped passed him and froze almost in mid-step.

The room was a bedroom and a young woman wearing only a dressing gown and robe stood at the barred window, her head turned in their direction. She seemed neither afraid nor surprised as she stared at them. She dropped the curtain in her hand and turned fully to them. Her head cocked to one side, she spoke a short phrase, by the inflection a question.

“What did she say?” Muir muttered to Tyna. She was the language expert of their team. He’d traveled the world and was familiar with many different languages, but he’d never heard this one before.

Tyna shook her head and said, “I don’t know.”

***

“Who are you?” Gen asked the tall black-haired man and equally tall pale-haired woman who stood in her bedroom. She wasn’t sure why she asked; she knew they wouldn’t understand her. No one here did.

The old, bearded man—a scholar, she thought, but more, for he had a great inner power that radiated from him—had tried many languages over the months since her abduction and imprisonment, but she recognized none of his words. The man who invariably accompanied him would often end their sessions in anger, either breaking things or hurting a servant or guard. By his tone and the others’ quick subservience, she assumed he was the master of the house, and a powerful man in his own right. She’d met men like both of them in her father’s house. She didn’t like them any better.

But these people weren’t like the others. A thought occurred to her. They don’t belong here. She knew it with as much certainty as she knew what they came for. It would serve her captors right if their treasure disappeared. She smiled and stepped forward.

The man in black leather scowled and raised the great blade in his hand, the warning obvious. She stopped and studied him. He held his weapon comfortably, confidently. They had been together for a long time. It looked right in his hand.

The woman, also in black, but a sturdy fabric instead of hide, said a sharp word and placed a hand on his arm. His stance relaxed and he lowered the tip of his blade several inches though no less ready should he need it. The look in his eye was just as alert as it had been a moment ago.

The woman put her open hand out and spoke softly, soothingly. The man began backing out of the room, his attention now on the sitting room behind him, then the woman did the same but her attention was still on Gen.

Gen followed her out of the room but stopped in the doorway. She didn’t think the woman would harm her but, as safe as she felt in their presence, she knew he would be the one to hurt her if they though she would be a problem. How could she convince them she could help them?

The man watched the main door that Gen could not open, though it was not locked with anything physical, and the woman passed her hands over the surface of the door to the other bedroom. If she could feel the magic the old man placed, then perhaps she would find what she was looking for after all.

The woman spoke to the man and she sounded excited, but then she cried out and held her hand. The man’s attention immediately went to Gen and the look in his eye scared her. He thought Gen had hurt her!

“No,” Gen said shaking her head and pointing toward the woman. “I didn’t do that!” She rushed toward the gilded chest against the center of the outer wall and ripped open the top right drawer. She pulled something out then turned toward him, dropping to her knees. “You need this to open it!” She laid the object on the floor then lowered her hands and head to the floor, leaving herself completely open to his mercy. She prayed she wasn’t wrong.

***

“Don’t hurt her, Muir,” Tyna said, rubbing her hand where the shock has stung, but not severely burned her.

He didn’t answer as he stepped forward to see what the woman on the floor had taken out of the drawer. He didn’t bother to hide his confusion. “It’s a key,” he said.

Tyna joined Muir and looked at the figure on the floor. “Hmmm… I wonder…” she muttered.

“No, Tyna,” he said. When she got curious during a mission, things usually got out of hand. “We can’t chance this.”

“We have to,” she said. “I think she’s trying to help us.” She knelt down and held her hand over the key, feeling for a spell. Nothing. She slowly closed the last inch and touched it. Just cold metal. She slid a hand under the young woman’s chin and gently lifted her. The woman followed the gentle pressure and raised her head. Their eyes met and Tyna knew what she had to do.

“Whether we find the artifact or not, she comes with us.”

Muir looked at them then lowered his sword between them. He pressed the flat of the blade against Tyna, moving her back. He did not like the sudden turn Tyna’s attitude had taken. She was the one who had insisted that the artifact be found and returned at all costs. Her priorities had shifted after a single touch from the woman on the floor and that meant strong magic.

“She’s bewitched you, Tyna,” he snarled, glaring at the young woman who was still on her knees. “Snap out of it.” He eased his dagger from its sheath and laid the cold steel against her cheek, one of the few places she showed bare flesh. It was one of the daggers Tyna had enchanted with a magic-negating spell. But for Tyna, he had little use for those who worked with magic. The instant fear on the girl’s face touched his heart and he hated her in that instant.

As soon as the metal touched her flesh, Tyna slapped it away. “For the love of the Seahettia, you fool, I’m not bewitched,” she snapped. “Stand down.”

He pulled her to her feet and dragged her further from the girl who’d returned her face to the floor. “Prove it.”

“There’s nothing to prove,” she retorted, “and we don’t have time for this.”

“You’re right,” he said, “we don’t have time for this, so why is taking that girl with us suddenly more important than returning the artifact to the temple?”

Tyna looked at him, shocked. “I never said that.”

Muir continued to glare at her, waiting for her answer.

“Do you want to stand here and argue until someone comes and discovers us?” she asked, getting angry with his, as far as she was concerned, unreasonable distrust of magic.

“Just answer.”

“I can’t leave her here,” she finally said, choosing her words carefully for she had never revealed exactly what had happened to her when she was a prisoner of the cruel man who commanded this stronghold. “She’s barely more than a child. If I can keep her from what I endured, I would do so.”

Muir knew Tyna hadn’t told him everything but he’d heard rumors of the aristocrat’s unusual amusements. Out of respect and love, he didn’t press her for answers. This answer he did accept. With a nod, he let her go and looked over at the girl on the floor, but the floor was empty.

He jerked his head around, feeling a presence to his left, and found the girl on her knees with her head bowed, a thick ebony rod, about two feet long, across her open palms. Symbols were carved into it and then inlaid with gold and silver. On one end was set a cut diamond the size of an eye and encircled by several smaller crystals. In gems and precious metals, its worth was sizable. In terms of magic and religion, it was invaluable and irreplaceable.

“I told you she wanted to help us,” Tyna said. She took a cloth from the pack strapped to her back, wrapped the rod tightly, tucked it back in, and then secured the fastenings.

Muir carefully opened the deceptively light door and peered down the hall. Clear. This was the most dangerous time, the time to leave undetected with the prize they sought. Their odds weren’t good with just Tyna and him, but dragging that girl along? They’d be lucky to make it outside the building let alone off the grounds. He glanced back to see why Tyna wasn’t already beside him ready to go.

The girl hadn’t moved. She was still on her knees, her head bowed and her empty palms up. The dressing gown spread out behind her and while the front hung straight down from her forward-tilting shoulders, it couldn’t hide her generous curves. Her long dark wavy hair hung loose, covering her face. What kinds of abuse has she endured to learn such subservience?

Tyna tightened the last strap on her pack then looked at the girl, too. Her eyes softened. Muir recognized that look from across the room and knew there was no way she’d leave the girl behind.

Tyna touched the girl’s palm and nodded when she looked up. The girl smiled then Tyna smiled. “Come with us,” Tyna said, wrapping her hand around the girl’s. Standing, the girl continued to smile like one would if she were very happy or very simple-minded.

“Now or never,” Muir hissed and left the room. The girl’s pure joy bothered him, reminding him of simpler times when he was a different man. He didn’t want that reminder.

Tyna followed Muir and the girl followed her. When they reached the door, she stopped and shook her head, her smile gone. Tyna looked at her and motioned with her fingers to come but the girl shook her head again then looked at the partially closed door. She touched her chest with her free hand then pointed at the door. Placing her palm almost on it, she shook her head and pulled her hand back quickly, wrapping her fingers into a fist and holding it against her chest. She looked at Tyna.

“You can’t touch the door?” she asked. It was closed around enough that to pass by, her body would brush against it.

The girl pointed to Tyna, then the inner door Tyna had gotten the shock from. She again reached toward the door then jerked her hand back and clenched it as if injured.

With a smile and a nod, Tyna pushed the door open so the girl could pass without touching it. If the spell on it anything like the one on the inner door, it would have made a very effective deterrent to any unauthorized exits. She closed the door behind them and, taking the girl’s hand, moved to join Muir where he waited at the bend in the hallway where he’d played lookout before they entered the room.

***

“No,” Gen said, freezing in her tracks, “that way is trouble.” That was the way the men came from and she would not go in that direction unless there were no other option. Fortunately, there was.

The woman stopped, too, but tugged on her arm, pointing toward the man. She said something that was probably an urging to continue moving.

Gen pointed in the other direction and nodded, hoping they would understand and believe her. “Please, we can escape through the garden,” she pleaded, hoping her tone, if nothing else, would convince them. “It’s this way.” She pointed again.

The man said something in a harsh tone and the woman snapped something back. She had stopped pulling on Gen’s arm and looked down the hall where Gen had pointed, biting her lower lip. She said something to the man in a tone her father often used with his colleagues when they disagreed but the final word was his.

Gen’s eyes widened. She glanced at each of them but neither gave any hint that her command was unusual. The possibility that the woman was in charge of their mission hadn’t occurred to her. It was natural enough where she was from, but here, she’d only seen men hold power over others.

The man glared at her as he passed, as if warning her that should she betray them, she would wish for death long before it arrived. She had no intention of doing that, even before his fearsome warning.

The woman motioned with her hand that she should follow the man, so she did. The woman followed behind. At each bend or intersection of the hallway, Gen pointed the direction. They met no one, just as she’d never met anyone while being escorted to her daily walk through the garden. The final door was locked, but the man, using a few oddly tipped tools quickly opened it.

During her garden visits, the guards allowed her to roam at will. Not long after her arrival, she had discovered a culvert under the thick bailey whose grate had largely rusted away. It remained unnoticed due to the thick bushes growing along the base of the wall and over the stream. She had never dared to attempt it, but the man was surely strong enough to remove the last of the grating.

Taking the lead, Gen guided them along the darkest paths to the stream that meandered the grounds. Not bothering to hold up the hem of her dressing gown, she stepped into the cold water and barely stifled a gasp. It was very cold. She felt the rocks that lined the streambed through her thin slippers but ignored the sharp jabs. It was a small price to pay for freedom from the bad men who had taken her from everything she knew.

***

The girl stepped into the stream and Tyna followed her without question. Muir was hesitant to get his leather wet if he didn’t have to but a dark glare from his companion sent him into the stream anyway.

The girl knelt in the icy water and disappeared into the bushes that lined the base of the outer bailey. Tyna didn’t hesitate, so how could he? Sheathing his sword at his side, he followed them into the hidden culvert.

The darkness was absolute and only his keen senses kept him from colliding with Tyna where she’d stopped several feet in.

“There’s a metal grate blocking the way, but it seems in bad shape,” she whispered directly into his ear. “It shouldn’t be a problem.”

Muir moved ahead, he felt the girl move back as he felt along the edges of the grate embedded in the stone, then the bars of the grate itself. Satisfied with the assessment, he formulated his plan then immediately acted upon it. The metal would have been impossible to bend or break had it been maintained, but it had not. The rust had taken hold and the rock had crumbled under the onslaught of mosses and time. He chipped away a few of the stronger stones with a dagger then pulled the entire grate from the wall.

Turning the grate sideways, he gave the all clear. After the women passed him, he replaced the grate so any cursory inspection would show it intact then followed them out the other side.

As soon as he emerged, Muir knew where he was. He recognized the location from the pre-mission scouting he and Tyna had done. They were in the only blind spot along that wall. If they could stay in the icy water until they reached the forest five hundred feet from the wall there was a good chance they might escape after all. He joined the women in a hollow in the thick bushes beside the stream.

The night air was cool and the women were already shivering, but there was no other option short of fighting their way out. He told Tyna and she agreed, but the water temperature was a problem.

“I don’t think our girl, here, can take much more cold,” Tyna said, looking at her. “Those clothes aren’t meant to keep heat in.”

The thin fabric clung to her like a second skin, promising luscious curves but revealing nothing as the girl sat with her knees up and her arms wrapped around them. She shivered so violently that her entire body shook, and she had to clench her jaw to keep her teeth from chattering and giving away their presence. She calmly watched them with big brown eyes full of trust.

Muir forced his eyes away from the girl and met Tyna’s. “Do you see another way?”

Tyna sighed and lowered her eyes. “No.”

“You take the lead, and I’ll follow, with your pet in the middle,” he said then slipped away to watch for foot patrols.

Tyna wasn’t sure how she was going to get the girl to understand what had to be done, but she tried by showing her. She got back into the water, motioning the girl to follow. She surprisingly did. Tyna ducked her head as far as she could and still breathe. So did the girl. Until they figured out a better way to communicate, she hoped everything worked out this well.

The long, slow trek against the current of the cold stream seemed to take forever. Once she emerged from the cover of the thick bushes, she didn’t look back, but steadily maintained her pace. Tyna expected to hear shouts of alarm at any second and the tension in her body helped warm her.

Once under cover of the forest, she stopped and looked around. The girl was about six feet behind her and Muir another dozen behind her. Seeing no soldiers, Tyna stood and stepped onto the rocky shore, avoiding the softer dirt where footprints would show. The girl carefully stepped where Tyna did.

Tyna looked back and saw her long-time companion staring at the girl, and fought a smile. “Are you coming?”

His eyes suddenly widened. “Duck!” he yelled.

***

Faster than Gen thought possible, the gleaming blades appeared in the man’s hands and, in a blur of motion, he threw them beyond where they had been standing had the woman not pulled her to the ground. A gargled scream tore the air. The red-uniformed soldier it belonged to lay on the ground, his life’s blood spilling on the moist ground around the black-hilted dagger in his throat.

As the life left his eyes, she recognized him. He was a mean man and had been one of her regular guards early on until the day he’d cornered her in the garden. If his partner hadn’t stopped him, she might have been thoroughly molested. Gen smiled. She would not mourn his passing.

The second soldier had pulled the dagger out of his shoulder and dropped it on the ground. By that time, the man was out of the water and had his sword drawn. The young soldier recognized her and that distraction was his final mistake.

“Gen?” he asked and missed the blow that skewered his heart.

“No,” she cried, and tried to crawl to the young soldier as he dropped to the ground, but the woman held her back.

The young soldier, no more than a boy really, was gone before he hit the ground. Gen felt the tears coming. She fought them, but failed. He was one of her captors, but he had been kind to her, not like the rest of them.

The woman held her in her arms and rocked her, crooning soothing words to her. The man’s harsh words reminded Gen that she had been trained to hide such weak emotions until she was alone, no matter how badly the tears wanted to come. She choked them back and pulled out of the kind woman’s arms.

She crawled to the boy’s body and touched his pale cheek. “You fought bravely this night,” she said softly and kissed his cooling forehead. Touching the hot blood on his chest with her index finger, she marked a circle where she’d kissed. “So say the Mother.” A dab in the center. “The Father.” She drew a short vertical line through the bottom of the circle. “The Son.” Then she drew a curved line underneath that. “And the Daughter. May your ancestors welcome you with open arms. Rest well, Willem.”

Standing, she noticed the woman watched her closely but the man ignored her as he collected the daggers he’d thrown. Gen watched him as he rinsed the blood from them in the stream before sheathing them again then pulled the bodies into some bushes thick enough that she realized no one would likely find them until morning now.

He snapped a few words then headed down the path and deeper into the forest. The woman held out her hand and Gen took it. She was content to be led to their destination.