Drifting tatters of mist coiled about the dead body of the darkling, concealing it in a damp gray shroud. A sharp wind blew the fog away. The corpse was gone. Karin bent to pick up the silver dagger. The knife glimmered dully in the half-light as she slipped it carefully into the leather sheath at her hip. Then the three women turned away, vanishing into the deepening night.
Seventeen
Mika stood before the mirror in her chamber in the Black Boar, clad once more in the baron's gift-a gown of lavender silk. By this she knew she was defeated. Shame, sorrow, guilt-all these things seemed to evaporate like mist in the heat of her desire for Caidin. He owned her now, utterly. Mika loathed herself for this. Yet even worse, she still wanted Caidin-more than ever. Leaving the inn, she picked her way through the muck toward the gilded carriage that waited to deliver her into sweet imprisonment.
'Milady!' a voice called behind her. 'Milady, please wait!'
Mika turned in surprise. A young woman dashed down the muddy street, coming to a breathless halt before her.
'Begging your pardon, milady, but it's my grand- mama.' Worry was written clearly across the peasant woman's flushed face. 'She's terribly ill.'
Slowly, Mika shook her head. 'I'm… I'm sorry. I was-'
'Please, milady.' The young woman rung her hands desperately. 'Please, won't you come?'
Mika opened her mouth wordlessly, casting a look of longing at the waiting carriage. Finally, realizing that she could not turn the disconsolate young woman away, she nodded. Moments later, she followed the peasant woman-whose name was Lillen-through the main room of a neatly scrubbed cottage.
'She is in the back chamber, milady. This way. She barricaded the door, but Elgar-that's my husband, milady-Elgar removed the hinges. She was very adamant in her wish not to see a healer.'
From the back room came the crash of something breaking, followed by a shrill cry. 'Leave me be, Elgar! And put my door back on, do you hear?' A peasant man, so young his beard was little more than fuzz, dashed out of the room, ducking to avoid a small clay vase that flew through the open door, way. It hit the far wall and shattered.
The young man gave his wife a chagrined look. 'It appears your grandmama is feeling better, Lillen.'
'She certainly seems to have a strong arm,' Mika noted dryly. Carefully, she peered into the back room.
'I see as usual my granddaughter has ignored my wishes.'
Startled, Mika realized that what she had at first thought only to be a small heap of rumpled blankets on the bed by the window was in fact a tiny, shriveled woman. She blended well with the threadbare bedclothes. Only her eyes stood out. They were bright as polished stones, shining with sharp intelligence.
Mika cleared her throat. 'You granddaughter has told me that you require a doctor.'
The old woman snorted. 'My granddaughter says all sorts of foolish things. I am sorry you made the trip here, milady, but I have no use for a doctor. I am dying, that's all.'
'Grandmama!' Lillen gasped in protest, but a flick of the old woman's piercing eyes made her shut up.
Mika nodded gravely. 'Do you mind if I come in for a moment all the same?'
The old woman threw up her arms in defeat. 'Oh, very well.' She glared at the young couple, who clutched each other in concern. 'But you two stay out!'
As Elgar led a sobbing Lillen back to the main room, Mika sat on the edge of the bed and opened her black satchel. The ol‹} woman grudgingly revealed her name-lrsyla. After several minutes of silent examination Mika leaned back, her expression solemn.
'You are dying, lrsyla. But it is not from an illness. You're just very old, and your body is worn out.'
'A fact of which I am well aware. But try telling that to those two young ninnies out there.'
Mika laughed gently. 'They only love you, you know.'
Irsyla's expression softened. 'I know, milady. I love them dearly as well. But I am tired. I have lived a long, good life. Now it is time for me to sleep.'
Mika smiled warmly at her patient. 'I'll leave some herbs for a tea your granddaughter can brew. It has no medicinal purposes that I know of, but it tastes nice, and it might make Lillen feel that she's doing something to help.' lrsyla reached out to grip her arm in thanks. It was then that Mika noticed that the old woman's hand was missing two of its fingers.
'How did this happen?' Mika asked with a doctor's curiosity, feeling the old woman's hand. lrsyla snatched her arm back. 'I do not think you wish to know that, milady.' There was an ominous tone to the old woman's voice.
Mika looked up in surprise. 'Why do you say that?'
Irsyla's eyes glittered sharply. 'Why? Because you wear a gown that belongs to him even now, milady. And I have seen you through my window, riding in the gilded carriage to his keep.'
'Baron Caidin?' Mika's heart skipped a beat. 'You mean the baron did this to you?'
The old woman slowly shook her head. 'Not this baron, milady. The Old Baron.'
'Tell me.'
At last the old woman sighed. 'I had thought to take the tale to my grave. I have never told it to anyone. Not even Lillen. But perhaps it is right that you hear it.' Irsyla went on in a low voice. 'In my younger days, I was the village's midwife. I helped the young come into this world, and to draw their first breaths. But all that ended more than thirty years ago.'
'What happened?'
'It was a dark midwinter's night. Two of the Old Baron's knights barged through the door of my cottage to tell me I was needed at the keep. They hardly gave me a chance to gather my things before bundling me into a carriage and hauling me up the tor. There I discovered that, not one, but two women were caught in the throes of labor, sharing the same birthing chamber. One was the Old Baron's wife, the baroness. The other was his mistress, a beautiful woman by the name of Kylene, whom some whispered was a witch. The baroness delivered her child first. It was a son, and at this news the Old Baron was joyous. As I examined the child, I could see that it was not well formed. Its limbs were ill-proportioned, its spine curved. The Old Baron flew into a rage. He might have throttled the child there and then, but the baroness clutched the infant to her breast.
'Moments later, Kylene gave birth. Her child was also a son, but this infant was strong and bonny like his father. It was then that the Old Baron concocted a foul scheme. 'I will not have a cripple for an heir,' he
Alone in her bedchamber, she studied her naked form in the mirror. Now there were dozens of the hand- shaped blotches all over her body. Some of them had merged into larger splotches of dark purple, ash gray, and livid green. None of the spots caused her pain. Instead, they were all disturbingly numb. She walked with a slight limp now, and the movement of her arms was clumsy. Then there was the smell. It was so faint that pthers might not have noticed it, but the odor was clear to her sensitive nose. It was the sweet, wet scent of decay.
Jadis peered over her shoulder to study the mottled blotches on her back. It was just as she feared. Each of the hand-shaped marks appeared in a spot where King Azalin had touched her flesh. A shiver coursed through her.
'Be brave, love.' She tried to control her fear. 'It is not too late. Not yet.'
Cold air rushed into the chamber, accompanied by a rhythmic flapping sound. A shadow absorbed the morning light. She turned, hastily clutching a robe about her naked body, to see a huge raven alight on the windowsill. The ruby medallion at its throat glistened like wet blood.
'Goreon,' she gasped.. 'Greetings, Velvet-Claw.' The raven cocked its head, staring at her. 'I bring you news from our master in Avernus.'
'What is it?' she snapped. 'What does Azalin say?'
Goreon ruffled his ebony feathers. 'He has heard. your message, and his reply is this: 'Forgive me, my Jadis. I do sometimes forget the frailty of living flesh. Return to me, and I shall make your delicious body pure once more.' '
Jadis let out a deep breath of relief. 'Then I must journey to II Aluk at once.'
'Wait,' the raven croaked. 'There is more.'
