The Flames of Shadam Khoreh (The Lays of Anuskaya)

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Authors: Bradley Beaulieu
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together not only to celebrate, but to decide upon things that affected all the peoples of Hael. The Kings would meet and hold council and decide the fate of their Kingdoms, such as they were.
    “Any shame brought upon you—”
    Datha grabbed Styophan’s cheeks and squeezed until Styophan stopped talking. His eyes were bright with anger. “I know who brought shame upon us, and so does Kürad. Why do you think you were allowed into the yurt with your weapons? Why do you think we waited after the sound of cannon was heard through the forest?” He waited for those words to sink in. “Kürad feels shame, but this is a thing he feels we must do. The withering has come, even though our wodjana said it would happen only to the Empire. They said it was in punishment for the Kamarisi’s transgressions. They said it would stop when Yrstanla retreated beyond the hills and promised never to return. And we all believed them.
    “But then the withering came, more ravenously than it had for the armies of the Kamarisi. Those taken by it die in weeks, not months. How can this be? we asked. How can we be punished more harshly than Yrstanla? Do you know the answer, Styophan son of Andrasha?”
    Styophan couldn’t shake his head. It hurt too much. So he merely stared.
    “ Hayir ,” Datha said with a sneer. “You have no idea what happened. It’s been happening for years among the islands and you haven’t a clue how to heal it.”
    Prince Nikandr had healed some who’d been taken by the wasting, but Styophan wondered—now that his Lord had lost his ability to commune with his wind spirit—if he could do so again. Probably not, and even if he could, he could not stem this tide. He couldn’t do so on Rafsuhan, and he certainly couldn’t do it here.
    “Do you want to know what changed Kürad’s mind?” Datha asked. “Why he decided, after all our years of war with Yrstanla, to betray his word and give you to Bahett?”
    Styophan could see the anger radiating from Datha. He didn’t truly wish to trade words with this man, but his curiosity got the better of him. “Why?”
    “Because the withering began on the islands. Is it not so?”
    The horse climbed a rise out of the swamp, but then rounded the other side and entered it once more. The water was deeper here. It seeped into Styophan’s boots and chilled his feet. “We call it the wasting, and it started on the islands, but we didn’t cause it.”
    “You did! And now it has come here. Our warriors and our women die, and the wodjana say that the only way to be rid of it is to give you to Yrstanla.”
    Datha walked in silence for a time, his footsteps splashing in water covered with tiny green plants. His face had lost much of its anger, and it was replaced with a look of regret, as if he wished Styophan and his ships had never come.
    “ They may believe that,” Styophan said, “but you don’t.”
    Datha glanced over. “Don’t I?”
    “If you did you wouldn’t be talking to me now.”
    Datha walked in silence for a time, the snow falling against his dark skin and melting. Toward the front of the line, the sounds of footsteps sloshing through the mud was replaced by soft footfalls against dry grasses, and soon the horse bearing Styophan reached solid ground. They began taking a trail along higher land, and the marsh began to fade into the distance.
    “We’ll reach our meeting ground in less than a fortnight,” Datha said softly. “Four of your men are left, plus the woman.”
    “Why are you telling me this?”
    “So you don’t do anything rash. Let Kürad treat with Bahett’s men. They’ll take you eastward, and if luck shines upon you, you’ll be rescued.” With that he began walking faster, perhaps to be done with speaking with one of the enemy.
    “Wait! How could I be rescued ? We were betrayed. No one even knows where we are.”
    If Datha was bothered by the word betrayed he didn’t show it. “They say you pray to your dead to protect you. Is it

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