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gripped by a force she could not resist, and she understood every word
clearly. Somehow, she found the last scraps of her defiance.  I will bear no
such monster.
The sheda s black eyes narrowed and she hissed in displeasure.  Fool! I have
seen a vision of the coming days.
We will have this leader. Like a dragon will he be, son of demon and Holoc the
Brave. He will lead our people against the pale-eyes. Like the locusts of the
steppes will we ride. Fire will flash from our spear tips. Lightning will
smite our enemies. Then there will-be no more pale-eyes. Then there will be
only Grethori.
Alexeika tried to draw back from her, but the sheda thrust her staff inside
the cage and prodded
Alexeika s stomach with the end of it.  Your womb, demon, is mine. I have seen
the visions.
 Thod smite your visions, Alexeika said. Her mouth was dry and her voice
shook, but she faced the old crone with all the spirit she had left.  The
Grethori can only fight helpless women and children. They
run from armed knights, and even if you made a monster to lead your people,
the Grethori would still run.
Glaring, the sheda shrieked in outrage.
 I ll be no part of this, Alexeika declared.
The sheda moved her staff up and down Alexeika s belly and thighs.  Beauty and
fire, she mumbled.
 Fire and beauty. He burns for you. You are flame to him. Let the blood
mingle. Seed and soil. Grethori and demon will unite, bound into one being.
She paused in the chanting of her spell and tapped
Alexeika s stomach with the end of her staff.  When the moon turns, you become
his forever.
Snarling, Alexeika grabbed the staff with both hands and yanked it away. The
sheda screeched with anger, and the mamsas came running to surround her.
Alexeika ignored their shouts as she knelt and tried to break the staff. It
was made of a smooth, dark wood as strong as iron. She could not snap it, so
she tore the bells off and flung them at the mamsas, who screamed in rage and
beat the bars of her cage with sticks. Alexeika pounded the small skulls on
the ground, letting her pent-up anger and horror free as she tried to smash
them. One of the little skulls cracked, and the sheda screamed as though in
agony.
Grinning to herself, Alexeika smashed the little skull again. But the mamsas
wrenched open her cage and swarmed inside it. The staff was wrested from her
hands and she was dragged outside. She tried to get up, but she was too weak
from lack of food and water to struggle much. They kicked and beat her until
she lay there, spent and half-conscious, in the dirt.
She felt something tug at her thick hair. Lifting her head, she saw the glint
of the sheda s bronze knife.
That fast, it was done, and the sheda held up a lock of her hair.
 This he will eat, she said triumphantly.  What is lust now will grow into
his madness. Beneath the stars will he take you. Before us all will he take
you. And the mamsas will sing chants of our war-songs while you bleed to make
this son. Demon, dragon, and Grethori will this child be. So do I say.
She hobbled away, Alexeika s hair fluttering in her hand like something alive
and captured. Alexeika lay there helplessly and clenched her hands on the
dirt.  Not while I live, she muttered.  Never!
But she knew that if she didn t escape, this fate would indeed be hers.
Determined neither to be mated to Holoc nor to bear some monstrous babe of
witchery, Alexeika made her plans.
Every night while her body mended, she watched the rising of the moon. Every
night its fullness waned a little more. Her time was running out. Holoc seldom
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came near her, but when he rode out of camp in the mornings his gaze went to
her cage. When he rode in at eventide, he looked for her. She knew whenever
his eyes watched her. She had a special sense for it, as though all her
instincts had been attuned and sharpened. His sun-bronzed face remained
impassive, but his dark eyes burned with a fever that intensified daily. She
feared it with all her mind and soul.
It was no good trying to summon her powers they never came when she wanted.
She knew her fears made them even less reliable than usual. If only she could
draw forth Fal-dain, the true king of
Nether, and turn vision into reality.
He lived, somewhere in this world. Lost and exiled from Nether, he delayed his
coming for reasons she did not understand. If only she could reach out to him
as she had once before. If only she could send her plea for help to him. He
was strong, manly, and handsome. His heart was good, and he had the blood of
eld in his veins. If he were here, he would fight for her. He would save her.
But such thoughts were only the foolish imaginings of a lovestruck girl. She
had glimpsed him once, and endangered him in the very process of parting the
veils of seeing. How Uzfan had scolded her for it.
If the old priest were here, he could counteract the sheda s spells.
But there was no one here who could save her except herself.
Faldain, even if he knew of her plight, even if he chose to care enough to
rescue her, could not come in time. Such thoughts were pure fantasy. And
Alexeika knew no fantasy could save her. She had only her own determination
and wits to rely on.
Twice before, she d broken free only to fail. This time, she knew she must
succeed. The stakes were far too high for failure.
Although they now fed her well, Alexeika picked out only the berries and meat.
She feared the spells
and seasonings in everything else. Sometimes she was not successful, because
her dreams would be wild and lustful. She would find herself heavy-eyed the
next day, staring at Holoc despite herself.
She hated such manipulation and was tempted to quit eating completely. But she
needed her strength for her coming escape. This time, she would not try to
take a horse; they were too well-guarded. She would head instead straight down
into the ravine. It would be dangerous at night, because the footing was so
treacherous. But her trail would be hidden there and hard to follow. She would
rather take the risk than lose all by being too cautious and careful.
During the day, she was allowed occasional exercise. She walked around camp,
followed by the mamsa who guarded her. At night, however, she was caged and
guarded by a different mamsa.
As the camp bedded down under the stars on the mountaintop, Holoc walked past
Alexeika s cage like a silent shadow. Sometimes he stopped and stood there,
un-moving for perhaps an hour, before he walked on.
These silent nightly visits unnerved her more than anything else. She felt the
nets of the sheda s spell closing around her. As time dwindled, her fear
continued to grow. And with fear came a sense of paralysis and defeat, until
sometimes in the darkness she lay there on the cold ground, shivering and
wretched, and believed that nothing she did or tried would be successful.
But she always fought off such bouts of self-pity. She refused to give up or
surrender to fate the way the others had. They never spoke to her now.
Whenever Joyska or She-lena or any of the others walked past her, they averted
their eyes. She watched them change, becoming anxious to please, to fit in, to
do well. They all looked the same, with the same fearful apathy in their eyes, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]