She ducked through the low gate, one hand ensuring her hood still covered her copper-tinted hair, and stopped dead. A strange sensation slithered down her spine, quite unlike anything she had ever felt before. Like a faint scent on the breeze there was something unexpected within the compound. Slowly she turned to the left, where Alterr's chamber stood, a smooth-sided half-dome forty yards in diameter, painted a stark white that glowed very faintly in the moonlight.
The door was shut and a pair of penitents were on guard outside. She checked the rest of the courtyard: there were no other obvious guards, but there were men loitering. Legana frowned. As inexperienced in magic as she was, something told her this wasn't a simple spell. She could feel raw energy in her veins, part of the very make-up of her Godhood, but what she felt now touched her even deeper inside.
'So what's going on in there?' she wondered aloud. Without really intending to, she took a few paces towards the chamber. The penitents stiffened, hands reaching for the spears leaning casually in the dark recesses on either side of the chamber door. They were of a similar height to her, and they looked like they both had a fair amount to be penitent about, but she reckoned even as a mere mortal she'd have been able to take them both – men always underestimated a pretty face.
'Temple's closed for a private service,' one of the guards called.
Legana hardly heard him, so intent was she on the curious prickle on 'her skin. The sensation got no stronger as she neared the chamber and she came to an abrupt stop, suddenly realising that it was not emanating from the building at all.
'That's curious,' she said quietly to herself. Just looking at the chamber had caused something to resonate inside her, like the vibration of a plucked string.
'What did you say?' the guard asked, taking a step towards her. He held his spear loosely, at the ready.
'Could it be luck?' she wondered, not paying the penitent any attention at all. At the back of her mind, realisation began to flower.
The penitent glanced at his comrade. 'You understandin' her?'
'Nope. Sounds like she's talking Farlan. Looks Farlan too.'
Legana frowned at the two men for a moment before realising she hadn't understood the actual words coming out of their mouths, but the meaning instead. Another divine gift, 1 assume. She thought for a moment and the local dialect came easily enough to her tongue.
'Take a step back and keep quiet. There's something bad going on in the temple.' I'm touched by the Qoddess of Luck, so I think it's safe to assume my sense of timing is going to be, ah, divine, from now on.
The first penitent opened his mouth to argue, but the words died unsaid as Legana held a sword-tip to his throat, moving in the blink of an eye. A faint croak escaped his comrade's lips, but they were too astonished for anything more. They had realised no normal woman could have moved so quickly.
'I need to be in that temple right now, so take a step back,' she repeated softly, 'and get the fuck out of my way, or you'll find your balls shoved down your throat.'
The penitents jerked back as if they were on strings. Legana lowered her sword and nodded at the door.
'Shut it behind me, please.' She stepped through the doorway without pausing to look inside first. The door was slammed shut after her. The chamber was dark, sparsely lit by candles set on an iron chandelier hanging from the roof. The crescent pews were set in circular tiers, descending from above head-height at the back to knee-high around the altar. The fretwork backs of the pews and roof-beams cast long shadows, but they didn't obscure the scene.
Legana slid between two pews and peered at the altar.
There were well-dressed people kneeling, their heads bowed as though in prayer. No one showed any sign of having heard her entrance. A child lay supine on the altar, twitching feebly, and blood dripped over the edges. The Lady's first thought was of a grand entrance, but Legana preferred to follow her own instinct, of caution.
A man's voice echoed out from the darkness. 'You shouldn't have ignored the guards. That really was a mistake.'
Legana began to wind her way down between the rows towards the altar, scanning the room as she did so. Most of the space was occupied by the pews, but she quickly became aware of movement that mimicked her own, and caught sight of flashes of a dark figure walking in the shadows. She couldn't place the accent – it was unlike any she'd heard before, and it sounded ancient in form. That wasn't good, old meant dangerous – and he didn't sound even apprehensive.
But they always underestimate a woman, Legana thought grimly to herself, so let's make him walk into trouble.
'Sorry to ruin your fun,' she called out, flicking the clasp of her cloak open and letting it fall behind her. The pews were low enough now for her to vault up onto a seat with no obvious effort.
Looking down at the altar she saw there were markings on the ground, symbols written in chalk all the way around, linked by a sloppily drawn circle. They meant nothing to her, but the sight of her target, High Priest Lier, dead on the ground with his chest torn to ribbons gave her a clear idea of the intention. It was set up to look like a summoning gone wrong. The rich folk surrounding the altar had to be under some enchantment, kept alive until it was time for them to be slaughtered, providing the appropriate sound effects.
'You've ruined nothing,' said the man, stepping out from a shadow opposite her. He was hairless, gaunt and albino-white, and clad in black scale-armour of a style she didn't recognise. It was the fat broadsword in his hand, its black surface prickled with elusive light like faint stars, that made her suddenly nervous. He leapt up onto a pew himself, cocked his head to one side and smiled like a lizard at her. 'My, what pretty hair you have.'
Legana took a step down onto the pew in front. 'You're taking enough of a risk already, aren't you?' she asked softly. 'Defiling Alterr's temple and killing her high priest is dangerous enough. Do you really want to risk bringing the Lady into things too?'
His smile became a smirk. 'I don't fear your mistress,' he replied, reaching out towards her with his empty hand.
Legana recoiled as she felt his cold fingers close around her neck. A surge of power welled up from inside her in reaction and she felt a crackle of energy over her entire body as the warring forces strained against each other. In the next instant, it was gone.
'Strange,' he said, looking puzzled but still far from worried. 'Aren't you the curiosity?'
Legana didn't bother to reply. She kicked off from the pew and leapt through the air towards him, twin swords held out wide. As she flashed across the chamber, she felt the strength of a Goddess fill her-
Still a dozen feet from the murderer, she smashed into an invisible barrier, then those hands were about her throat again, only this time it was like a vice crushing down on every part of her body at once. She howled in pain as stars burst before her eyes. The swords fell from her grip as fire lanced through her veins.
'Overconfident, pretty one,' the stranger snarled. With a twitch of the hand he threw her across the room and she smashed into the pews. She found herself gasping for air while colours blurred in her vision. Again she felt power suffuse her and she found herself standing upright.
She dived to one side instinctively as a crash come from where she'd been standing a moment before. She kept moving, thoughts racing through her mind, too fast to be coherent. She needed her weapons back, and she needed to move fast. It felt like the Land around her slowed as she drew on her divine half. As she raced through the pews, she pictured her swords in her mind, and they lifted themselves from the ground and began to move towards her.
But before she could get close enough to grasp them, something smashed into her side, throwing her off her feet again. This time she hit the ground shoulder-first and rolled into position to kick off the pew ahead of her. She flipped up through the air, and as she landed she felt her swords slap against her palms. The Land appeared to hesitate again as she drove towards her attacker. He brought his sword up to meet hers, barely quick enough to parry her flurry of blows, but as they locked weapons and she kicked forward into his gut, Legana felt herself thrown backwards by some other force.
'No more!' called a voice that echoed around the room with such force the light from the candles shuddered and dimmed. Legana blinked. The Lady was standing in front of her, facing her attacker. She held a leaf-bladed spear in her hands, its golden shaft blazing in the weak light.
'Aracnan, explain yourself!'
Legana staggered back, dazzled by the light of the spear and gasping as the jewels around her neck suddenly burned with the Lady's fury.
