Oathbreaker: A Dark Fantasy Web Serial-Chapter 23Arc 8: : Thorns

Some minutes later, I walked through the forest again clad in my black armor and red cloak, Vicar’s fur pelt draped over my shoulders like I were some barbarian warrior-chief from an old legend. Neither of us spoke to the other, having said all we needed to already. I found Morgause waiting patiently where the woods grew darker, and she followed me without the need to be led by the reins. Penric stood nearby, a gaunt and furtive shape avoiding the intermittent beams of daylight breaking through the canopy.

“The doctor and Lisette were chatting earlier,” he told me as I drew up beside him. “They stopped real quick when I got close enough to hear, though. Trouble, you think?”

“Don’t know,” I said. “They have history. Might be nothing.”

The archer seemed to stare past me as he thought, though it was hard to tell what he was looking at in any given moment. His pallid face, artificial silver eyes, and the gold stitchwork running down his temple and cheek were a strange combination of colors. His presence exuded the cold of death, but also the warmth of living aura thanks to Lisette’s magic, an uncanny combination.

“You’ve done a good job guarding them, Penric.” I told him. “I know it’s a tough job, but I’m grateful.”

“Easier now I don’t sleep,” he said with good cheer.

Penric and I didn’t have much of a rapport — he respected the chain of command more than the others, and saw me as his superior, as a nobleman, and there’d never been much of an opportunity to break down that distance. Neither of us saw much reason to.

But the old archer saw much, so I decided to bring up the topic Lisette had hinted at, the same one Hendry seemed so torn up about the previous night. “Pen, have you been paying mind to the tension with the other three? I could use your insight.”

“Tension?” Penric scratched at his wiry neck. “Ah, you mean with your squire. Forgive me, Ser, but I’m not much for gossip.”

“I don’t want gossip,” I assured him. “Just your insight.”

“Well… I can tell something’s eating at the girl.” He shrugged and shifted position against the tree. “She’s always brooding, but when we were hunting vampires in Mirres she had something to focus on. Smart one, that ward of yours, and scary competent when she wants to be. But when we got called back to the Empress’s entourage? She got more withdrawn. Seems worse these last few days, being honest.”

I nodded slowly, chewing on that. It matched my suspicions.

Penric’s false eyes watched me with an intenseness that almost made me question their artificiality. His tone changed into something more pensive as he said, “Ser, can I offer up an opinion? Not a suggestion, mind, just my insight as you put it.”

Feeling trepidatious at his change in mood, I motioned for him to continue.

“Those kids all look up to you,” the archer told me. “Ser Hendry works himself to his metal bones trying to meet your measure, and I honestly think he should have been in charge of us in Dance country. And Lisette won’t say as much, but I believe she still sees you as what you used to be — an Alder Knight — and she’s got herself fixed on this notion that following you will lead her to some kind of redemption for her own past… Or so I gather from our talks. Lot of guilt in that young lass.”

“…I see.” I’d started to pace as I listened.

“As for Emma,” he continued, “she’s right pissed at something, that’s for sure, and I know the feel of someone on the cusp of a big decision. You know I used to serve House Forger? The Emperor’s father, when he was King of Reynwell.”

As an assassin, I thought. That was an open secret back at the Fulgurkeep, but it would be uncouth to say it.

“His Grace was a thoughtful man,” Penric mused. “The Emperor learned a lot of lessons from his father, like how to brood proper before acting. He never did anything without deliberating on it, and he used to get the same way as your squire before he did something that would make a lot of people angry… And he’d always get that way before he called me to his chambers and gave me a name.”

“You think she’s planning to kill someone?” I asked in alarm.

Penric showed me his palms in a gesture of denial. “Not what I’m saying! Just saying she’s thinking something over, is all. Really thinking about it, like she knows it will change some things and it needs the time to simmer.”

His words hadn’t given me any comfort. Part of me was hoping Hendry and Lisette were worrying too much, that I just worried too much.

All I said was, “I see. Thank you for your thoughts.”

He adjusted his cap. “Any time, Ser. My job to keep a watch on them, keep them protected and all. Least a dead man can do.”

“Right.” I hesitated, wondering how to best broach the other topic. “Pen… I’ve noted you’ve been very protective of our cleric.”

He frowned. “She keeps me running. Her Art—”

“Yes, I know, but it’s not just that.” I thought about when he’d tried to follow us at Fife, almost a reflexive movement, and when he’d nearly drawn a knife on Olliard, an uncharacteristic show of hostility for the even-tempered archer. He’d hung close to the group since our reunion, but I realized in retrospect he was always closest to Lisette. Almost drawn to her.

I wouldn’t have thought much of it, save for Lisette’s admission that she could sense the dyghoul from a distance, even communicate with him. A pattern was beginning to form, one I didn't like the shape of.

“With all due respect, ser, are you accusing me of something?” There was a hardness in the archer’s voice.

“…No. Not accusing you of anything. Where are the others?”

I’d angered him, but he shook it off and jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “About two hundred yards that way.”

I followed him, and we found Hendry and Lisette speaking together in a small glade. The pair were washed in sunlight while Hendry’s kynedeer grazed on the grass. An oddly picturesque scene, with Hendry’s brass-colored armor and Lisette’s white-and-gold cloth catching the spring rays and somehow enhancing them. In contrast, the space beyond them lay under thick boughs and was almost drowned in shadow.

“She’s in there,” Lisette said, pointing to where the forest deepened. “I think she’s already started.”

I could sense it. The gloom ahead had weight, like I looked into deep water. Emma’s demigryphon lingered at the glade’s edge, unwilling to go further. The bird-horse was upset, squawking intermittently and pacing at the daylight’s boundary, eager for her mistress to return.

“I don’t like this,” Hendry continued. “It’s dangerous, and she shouldn’t have to—”

“No,” I agreed. “But she is, and I’m allowing it. If you want to be angry at someone, then be angry at me.”

I knew I was. If I’d been smarter, wiser, perhaps it wouldn’t have been necessary to lean on the others so much.

Hendry’s steel-clad shoulders slumped. “Shouldn’t we be in there with her, at least?”

“Emma has some protection from the Briar,” I told the group. “Thanks to Qoth and her godmother. The rest of you don’t. Better to stay clear.”

I took several steps forward before glancing back. “I’ll keep watch on her. I’ve got questions for the briarfae, anyway.”

They didn’t argue and didn’t try to follow me as I walked deeper into that oppressive gloom. I could sense my squire not far ahead, the locus of this threatening atmosphere. Morgause had no fear of the unnatural dark, but I motioned for her to stay and she did. The demigryphon let out a single mournful cry behind us, its voice exactly like an eagle on the wing.

Vicar stirred on my shoulder. “The girl may not be so safe. The Lords of the Briar are malicious and fickle, and Nath rejoined the Choir if you recall.”

“It is dangerous,” I agreed. “But I’m out of ideas. Do you have another suggestion?”

“I agree with this plan, and you and I are more than capable of defending ourselves. It is the girl my warning is for. The Briar may make offers to her, even try to trick her into taking gifts. She may have resisted that Rue witch last night, but no mortal is immune to the call of power. Especially not her.”

“I’m not sure power is a priority for Emma,” I noted.

“Of course it is!” Vicar laughed mockingly. “She may not wish to reclaim her family’s forsaken throne, but that does not mean she objects to power. You heard her last night. How did she say? The greatest knight of our time? That will be a bloody path, regardless of how she achieves it.”

I had no response, and kept my attention forward. The devil’s words made me uneasy, but this wasn’t the time for a distracted mind.

We found Emma in a clearing some distance on from the glade. A rocky hill burst from the woods, and at its base rose the jagged opening of a tall and narrow cave, a vertical fissure sinking into a deep black. Creeper vines surrounded the opening. Emerged from it, I realized, like many tendrils stretching from the maw of some eldritch thing desperate for prey.

In front of that ominous cave stood Emma. She had her back to me, her black cape falling down one side of her slim body like a shroud so her red armor was visible on the other, displaying an asymmetrical silhouette. The clawed fingers of her gauntlet, alabaster and crimson, hung out to her side at an angle as though she prepared to catch something.

She would have heard the clink of my own armor and the padding of my steel-framed boots on dry leaves as I stepped into the space in front of the cave, but I didn’t speak immediately. Her posture held an element of concentration.

“Can you feel it?” she asked in a distracted voice without turning around.

I walked forward to stand next to her, stopping short when I noted marks on the ground. She’d drawn a circle around herself, marking it with leaves and stems from the surrounding forest. I noted thorns in those plants, some herbs I recognized as poisonous. There was even an old snake skin.

“I feel something,” I said. The air felt too still, but also heavy. It weighed on my lungs, made my breaths shallow.

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“A predator used this cave as its dwelling once,” Emma said, indicating the fissure. “It was a mad thing.”

“How do you know?” I asked.

“There are bones inside. Many of them. And… I can feel it. The Briar is strong here.”

I nodded, hesitated before saying, “Emma… You don’t need to do this. I can figure something else out, find another way to contact Qoth’s people.”

Her eyes narrowed. I felt a sudden spike of apprehension. Did I have this talk with her now? Let her know we were all worried, try to get to the bottom of this distance I’d sensed since our reunion? Or would it just distract her during a critical moment?

The woods remained eerily quiet around us, still and empty. No birds sang in the trees like earlier, no insects chirped. Even the wind shied away from that benighted region of the forest.

“I know you’ve all been talking behind my back,” Emma said suddenly. Her voice was cool, distant as faraway rain. “I also know you have something to say. May as well have it out.”

“We don’t need to do it now,” I offered. No point denying the accusation.

She scoffed. “And if not now, when? After the next battle? After the next time some contrivance separates us and you meander your way back?”

I winced. “Emma… The others are just worried about you.”

“Oh, I’m sure. All wondering when I’ll turn bad, is it?”

Her voice held a tightness I didn’t miss. I stepped into her line of sight, careful not to disturb her circle of evil plants. “Don’t be like that. I’m worried about you, Em. Talk to me, please.”

“Are you asking me to divulge my feelings?” Emma said archly.

I considered a moment before tilting my chin down in a nod. “Yes. What’s going on with you?”

She refused to meet my eye. “You know what it is.”

“Because I made you run at Fife?” I asked. “While I stayed behind and fought?”

She didn’t deny it, and for several minutes she said nothing. I waited patiently, sensing this wasn’t something to rush. When she did speak, her voice held an uncharacteristic brittleness.

“Am I an inconvenience to you?”

I frowned at that. “What?”

“Last night wasn’t the first time, you know. Not by far.” She did look directly at me, then. “It keeps happening over and over. Whenever you think that you need to let loose, to fight without restraint, you find a way to keep me back. You keep trying to protect me. You may give me responsibilities on occasion, but only to keep me preoccupied. You let me take charge of the group in Mirrebel, made it seem oh so necessary, told me you were relying on me. But you just didn’t want me underfoot in Osheim, isn’t that right?”

The fingers of her right hand tapped against her palm, drawing my attention to the detailed craftsmanship of the gauntlet. It was near fine as a glove, each finger tipped in a sharp claw white as bone, the metal melting to vermillion at the roots of each digit.

“I do rely on you,” I told her.

“In small ways, perhaps.” She shook her head. “But you are holding me back from myself. I don’t think you’ve come to terms with it. Who and what I am, and what I wanted from all of this.”

Her gaze drifted past me to the cave.

“Emma, I—”

“I am not your little sister.” She interrupted me. “Neither am I some chance at redemption for you. You think that if you try to impart all the good things about our path, all the noble things you like to think knighthood is, that I will become some better version of you? Don’t be naive, Alken. I am a killer. I butchered Hendry’s father. You saw it.”

“In self defense,” I argued. “To protect Hendry.”

“I wanted to kill that man since I was twelve years old,” she said bluntly. “Besides, he’s not the only one. I killed priorguard in Garihelm, and they were no demons or vampires. Just people. Just enemies.”

I opened my mouth to refute her, but paused when I caught her eye fixed on me. The girl stared at me sidelong, the look so sharp it made me pause.

“Whatever corruptive influence you think you’re protecting me from, Alken, I can assure you there is no need.”

Growing angry I said, “That’s awfully arrogant, Emma. You know what kind of forces we’re up against. None of us are above being… tainted.”

“Is that what happened to you in Osheim?” She shot back. When she caught my surprised look, a cold sneer tugged at her lip. “Do you think we can’t see it? You’re back to not sleeping, having night terrors when you do, and we’ve caught you talking to yourself several times. Talking to something, more accurately.”

“It’s complicated,” I hedged. “I told you I’d explain everything when there’s time.”

She wheeled on me, making no effort to mask her own anger. “When there’s time!? There has been time, Alken. We reunited almost a week ago, and you’ve kept to yourself and kept us moving all the while, avoiding us when we camp, making every excuse not to catch us up. You had all the time to talk to us at Maerlys’s castle, and you abstained. Do you not trust us?”

I lifted a hand, a placating gesture at first. “It’s not about trust. Not about not trusting you, anyway, or the others.”

“It’s not you, it’s me…” Her smirk could have cut stone. “Is that the line?”

My jaw clenched. “You’re being a brat, girl. Watch your tone with me.”

Her eyes flashed and she stiffened, but her words emerged quiet. “As you wish.”

Some minutes passed in silence as I took the time to get a handle on my temper and Emma seethed in silence. The forest maintained its unnatural quietude. Only belatedly did I realize that my fingers had curled into a fist. A memory hit me then, of shortly after Emma and I first met and we’d been inside the manor Brenner Hunting leant to her family and kept her in, all but his prisoner. He’d made a fist at her too, would have used it if I hadn’t been there watching. How many times before that, when no one was there to protest?

I relaxed and said, “I would never touch you.”

“I know,” she muttered, still not looking at me. “Idiot.”

“I’m just…” I sighed. “It’s hard to talk about. I don’t want to talk about it. Not with anyone.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “I should have been there. Those ruffians in the Backroad were there, I heard some of them talking about it. You trust them to fight at your side, and not me? This is just like when you were caught at Rose Malin.”

She’d punched me in the jaw after our reunion then, and I’d deserved it.

“I had to make some choices, Emma.” I spread my hands out in a helpless gesture. “Difficult choices, with consequences that are still playing out. Once this mission we’re on is over, I…I’m not sure what will happen to me. I’m in some trouble, and the less you’re involved…”

Emma shook her head violently. “That is my choice! I am not your subordinate to order around! I am not like Penric, just a soldier to be sent off to Mirrebel because you’re doing more important work elsewhere! If you wish to send me away, then do it and have done with this.”

She was holding back tears. I’d only ever seen her cry once, after I’d found her again at Rosanna’s partition of the Emperor’s palace, my body still marked by weeks of starvation and torture at the hands of the Inquisition. Now, like then, they were tears of anger.

Don’t you understand? She’d said back then. I have no one else.

“Is that what you’ve been waiting for?” I asked her. “For me to end this?”

“I know you’ve been considering it.” She spoke the words like they were acid on her tongue. “I know you well enough, Alken, to see when you’re about to make a stupid decision. Whatever happened in Osheim, whatever this current task those bastard seraphim are having you do, you want me far away from it when the dust settles.”

I hesitated, and she showed her teeth. “That was your plan, wasn’t it? Complete this job, then send us away? Mirrebel was a test to see if we could take care of ourselves, so that you wouldn’t have to feel guilty when you cut us loose.”

I hadn’t let the thought form into plan. And yet…

The Choir was divided on me. Lias was on Heavensreach, the Underworld lay in disarray, and the very gods couldn’t agree on whether to view me as an asset or a threat to be disposed of. Chamael had made that clear enough, that the Onsolain weren’t singing with one voice, and Urawn Aarlu confirmed it. It was only a matter of time before something, perhaps multiple somethings, decided to take matters into their own hands.

It was dangerous to be near me, for that and for what I’d done after Tol. I recalled the moment Rosanna tried to let me hold her son, the fear I’d felt at the thought that what clung to me might steal the infant’s life.

Emma was right. I hadn’t made a conscious decision, but I’d expected to cut the lance loose after we’d found Rysanthe. Maybe even earlier than that. It would be safer for them. Between angels wanting me dead and a succubus of the Abyss plotting revenge on me for spurning her, it just wasn’t safe for anyone to be close.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” Emma visibly deflated even as she made the realization. “I was right.”

“Emma…” What did I say?

“Bastard.” Her voice was tight with fury. “You think I can’t handle it, don’t you? You believe you’re a danger to me?”

“I am.” I sucked in a deep breath through my nose and tried to keep calm. “I’m a danger to all of you! You all have lives beyond me, and you know it. You don’t need me tarnishing your futures.”

“You stupid oaf!” Emma almost lunged forward, causing me to take a cautious step back. “Are you so blind? Hendry’s entire future is gone! His father died a traitor, his House is dismantled! He only maintains his knighthood because you put in a good word for him, but no clan in all of Urn would take him on after what Brenner did… And Lisette? She was a Priory double agent who helped them commit torture and kidnapping, her only excuse that the Empress — who most consider a scheming murderer who seduced the Emperor for power — sanctioned her. And Penric? He is undead, not to mention the fact he killed people for the old regime and knows enough that any lord in their right mind would bury him in a deep hole.”

She jabbed a finger at me. “Without your intervention, your influence, they would be in dungeons or graves. And me? Me?! You think I’d be better off alone?”

Notalone, I wanted to say, but she wasn't done.

“The Backroad knows my true identity now,” Emma reminded me. “Soon enough, one way or another, that secret will get out into the world. No king will grant me a knighthood, no House will shelter me, save perhaps for those like the Huntings who want to put me right back where I was. We have hewed to you because we have nowhere else to go, don’t you see that?”

“You’re putting far too much on me!”

I spoke louder than I’d intended. My voice cracked like a thunderbolt through Emma’s anger, echoing off the trees. I’d all but bellowed. Emma paused, glaring at me still but silent just long enough for me to get a word in through her monologue.

“I’ve fucked up every responsibility I ever had.” I tried to speak calmly, reasonably, but my voice was hoarse with sudden emotion. “Emma, I’m a damn failure. I never asked for all of this, hardly ever wanted it! Ever since I was a boy, people have kept throwing all this shit on me! First my father, then Rose and Lias, then all the damned elves and angels too! I was only ever good at killing people, not… not whatever the fuck you all think I’m worth. So yes, I’ll admit it, I want out. I didn’t ask to get saddled with babysitting this little pack of misfits, but the Emperor has deluded himself into thinking I’m worth a damn just like the rest of you!”

I couldn't even bring myself to slay one demon when it stood right in front of me, winged, wreathed in gore, its truth exposed. Instead I'd felt--

My heart pounded in my chest. I couldn’t get it to slow its beat, couldn’t take a proper breath. I hadn’t been prepared for this conversation, hadn’t expected to say all of that. But now it was out, and no taking it back.

Speaking through my teeth, I finished by saying, “I’m good at one thing, and I do it better alone.”

Emma’s face took on a hollow cast. “You really do believe that?”

“It’s just the hard truth,” I said. “You’re all damned if you stick with me.”

I started to walk away. Not to leave the grove, just to get some distance and find my calm.

“So you’re going to give up on helping Hendry, then?”

I stopped. “What?”

“If you cut us all loose, what will happen to him?” Emma demanded. “With his curse? And Penric? What happens when the Inquisition catches up to any of our group?”

“I’ve thought of that,” I admitted. “Rosanna won’t let anything happen to any of you. We discussed it. I’m not just leaving everyone in the wind.”

“Oh, you discussed it with Rosanna!” Emma’s chilly humor resurfaced. “How wondrous! And will she protect me from the Choir when they decide I’m too dangerous to keep around as well?”

I shook my head in denial. “That pact was between you and them, they won’t—”

“They abstained from smiting me because you vouched for me.” Her voice was hard and bitter. “I’m just an apostate soul to them, Alken, and I always will be. What about the Credo, hm? Can the Empress stop the very forces of Hell, as you have?”

I sighed, feeling tired and wanting done with this unwanted conversation. “You’re not Carreon anymore, Emma. Let that go.”

“I can’t!” I heard her take a step toward me, the clink of metal and swish of cloth as she moved. “It is in my blood!”

“You are not a villain,” I insisted. “I’m sick and tired of this attitude. Why do you still insist on seeing yourself that way?”

When she didn’t respond, I turned to look at her. Emma chewed on her lip, her gaze gone distant. She had something more to say, but whatever it was it didn't come easy. She overcame whatever block tied her tongue, inhaled, and said the words with calm bluntness. “I killed my grandmother.”