Unveiling the Sorceress

The empress looke

d uneasy, color rising in her cheeks. “Please, Amshazar, it would perhaps be best if you go.” She looked at him beseechingly.

He did not falter under her stare and did not move.

"I am safe now,” she added. Some unspoken message passed between the three figures, tension ratcheting up.

Xerxes lifted his dagger again.

Amshazar's eyes shifted strangely as he stared at the empress, and then he finally lowered his head. “I am at your service, should you need me."

With that he took his leave.

The empress seemed relieved he had gone, and then turned back to the spot where Amra's body lay, breaking free of Xerxes’ concerned arm when he tried to hold her back as she flitted toward the body.

"A search is on. She was attacked, somehow, here in the tent, when she was alone.” Yoshi tried to explain. “There is evidence of perverse sorcerery. I believe this to be an act from the dark ledger."

"Sorcery?” Elishiba repeated, swallowing hard, her cheeks flushing and her eyes rounding. She turned back to Xerxes. “Why has this happened?” Her mood was evident in the desperate note of her question.

Kerr felt the warrior's growing frustration. He put one fist to his head. “I can only believe Yoshi's suggestion because no person passed us, and no one has been in here.” He looked at her with clouded eyes, guilt-ridden. “Perhaps they thought it was you.” He seemed to swallow his words as soon as they were out, realizing what he was implying, but it was too late.

Elishiba stared at him, realization sinking in. Then she stepped closer to the body, staring in horror, as if compelled to look. “Such treacherous enemies walk amongst us?"

"On your heels, mayhap.” Xerxes weighed his words carefully.

Elishiba shot him a cautionary glance. “Amshazar and I were talking when we heard the scream. It wasn't him."

Yoshi added her own comment. “Amshazar stands alone in this. He is not your adversary."

Xerxes gave a frustrated growl. “You women are blinded by his charm, that's all it is.” His mouth twitched. “It is time for me to join the hunt,” he said, bowing his head and leaving.

"His jealousy leads him,” Yoshi commented. “I will make a sleeping draught for Elra.” She shuffled over to the fire, shaking her head wearily.

Outside, Xerxes could be heard instructing the guards to stay with Elishiba.

"Watch over her for me ... keep her safe,” Elishiba said to Kerr.

He nodded, emphatically.

"Do not let anyone else in here, and no one else is to know we are afraid.” Her voice faltered, and after a moment, she walked out.

He managed to make Elra sip the dish of brew Yoshi had made and soon enough her body ceased its trembling. She lifted her head and looked at him beseechingly with her troubled eyes. “Her sash, please give me Amra's sash."

Kerr glanced over at the colored sash that Amra wore. Both sisters had a sash, each a different color. It helped to tell them apart. The scarlet sash lay across Amra's torso, beneath her clawing arms. His gut churned at the idea of moving her.

"Please,” Elra whispered. This was the first thing she had said since the body had been discovered.

His chest ached to soothe her. He would do anything, no matter how hard. “Hush, I will get it."

* * * *

Flanked by guards, Elishiba's heart beat furiously against the wall of her chest as she wove her way back to Amshazar's tent to question him. Amra was dead. How could it be? She wasn't ignorant of such malevolent violence, but never had it been so close to her before. Moreover, why—why had Amra been the victim? Had her handmaid seen something, or someone?

She heard Amshazar's voice echoing in her mind, his knowing words and his dark expression after the scream. And then, when he had followed her to her tent, she had seen a ghostly apparition behind him, the same man that she had seen that time in Suzin. Who was he?

At first she had dismissed Amshazar as the murderer, but a cold claw of fear had traced over her spine. He was a sorcerer. Could he be in two places at one time? She had to know, and a growing clarity of mind made her trace her path back across the encampment, cool and determined. She was afraid, and her guards had discouraged her from venturing out, but she had to speak with him, to challenge him in the face of what had happened.

The camp itself seemed quieter now, but the atmosphere spoke of hushed footsteps and whispers. Flares on the horizon indicated a search amongst the rocks they were sheltered below.