"Hold her!" she commanded. The warriors complied, though hesitantly. "Keep her still. She is not one of us."
The durthan stood tall, confident as Thaena studied her.
"Lady Ethran, I-" the woman began.
"Your formality is not required, durthan," Thaena said, ignoring the shocked glances of the berserkers. "We both know that my status among the wychlaren means nothing to you."
"Yes, I suppose you are right," the durthan answered calmly, then added, "I am called Anilya."
"Your name is unimportant," said Thaena, "and your presence here is unsurprising."
"Despite our differences we have much to discuss," Anilya said.
"I doubt that," Thaena replied, motioning to Anilya's captors and the other gathered warriors. "Bring her inside. Disarm her companion. Kill him if he tries anything."
The pale-skinned man bristled and bared his teeth, his eyeteeth small and sharp. Anilya shot him a look.
"Be still, Ohriman!" she shouted. He complied at her withering stare. "Wait for me and do as they command."
Anilya did not struggle as she was led by her arms to the gatehouse. Bastun caught her eye for only a heartbeat before Syrolf shoved him behind her. He turned and faced the warrior, meeting Syrolf s steady gaze long enough to let him know that he might not allow another provocation to go unanswered. Turning away slowly, he exhaled and followed the others.
The durthans companion was shoved against the gatehouse wall, sevetal daggers and a thin sword removed from his belt. They tied his hands for good measure and posted a guard. Slumping against the stone, he sat in the snow, showing no sign of discomfort in the cold. Under the glow of the torches, his green eyes shined and his pupils narrowed to slits.
A tiefling, Bastun thought, and a durthan. This wasn't good.
Inside, Anilya was escorted to the back of the room, cornered and forced to sit with her hands laid plainly on her lap. Bastun resumed his place in his own corner, Syrolf close by, the warrior's eyes darting between the vremyonni and the durthan. The rest of the fang crouched, on alert, watching the door and listening as Thaena spoke to the unexpected prisoner.
"Tell me," Thaena said, "why should I wait for the hathran to lay sentence upon you? Why shouldn't I have you executed here and save my sisters the trouble?"
Anilya glanced casually at Duras's sword, held at the ready, and then to Thaena.
"That would seem to be a logical course of action," the durthan said in an even tone.
"Then you accept your part in what is occurring here?" Thaena asked. "Even for a durthan, allying with the Nar is-"
"Don't be foolish," Anilya interrupted. "I and mine have no part in whatever the Nar are doing here."
"I don't think it's entirely ridiculous to imagine the durthan making alliances with the Nar," Thaena said. "I do not hold traitors to Rashemen by any high moral standards."
A murmur of agreement passed through the fang at her words. Anilya met Thaena's cool gaze, their masks so much like night and day that Bastun briefly imagined the sun arguing with the moon.
"Traitors to the wychlaren perhaps. Not Rashemen. Never the land."
"However you wish to view it," Thaena said. "You will be taken to the Shield and dealt with by its hathran. Bind her hands, Duras."
Duras sheathed his long sword, drew a dagger, and reached for a coil of rope at his hip.
"I'm afraid you'll find the hathran is in no condition to pass judgment on anyone," Anilya said, giving Duras pause to consider her words and look to the ethran.
"What are you saying?" Thaena asked, her hands curled into fists. "What have you done?"
"Nothing," the durthan answered. "But the Nar have been here for some days, and they have already breached the Shield."
Bastun's eyes widened. The grim faces of the fang were all focused on Anilya, but none of them could know the concern that Bastun felt.
"You're lying," Thaena said. "You're trying to trick me into something."
"Haven't you yet wondered why a durthan and a single swordsman approached a full fang of warriors, their ethran, and a vremyonni without raising a single blade or casting the most minor of spells?" Anilya said. "I came here to meet with you, to bring a proposal that would benefit us all."
Thaena stared hard at the durthan as Duras stood by with the rope. At length, she gestured Duras back.
"Speak quickly," she said.
Anilya leaned back into her corner, keeping her hands visible, and told of the durthans' watch over Shandaular and the lands of the west.
"We spied the Nar, members of the Creel tribe, riding east. As they neared Shandaular we grew curious, but my sisters did not deem it worthy enough to investigate further. I disagreed. Strangely though, I was unable to find the Nar by magic. Some presence among the Creel tore my spells apart. So I found a tracker-Ohriman, my companion outside. He and his band accompanied me into the city.
"We found the wychlaren's paths destroyed by magic-old magic-just as you no doubt have discovered. Sounds of battle drew us further into the city. Though we saw no evidence of a struggle, we drew close enough to the Shield to know for certain that no Rashemi stood guard to stop us.
"While deciding what to do, we were attacked by the Nar, as you were. We escaped, evading the spirits of this place until we found shelter. We heard your battle, and I decided to come here and speak with you."
"Why?" Thaena asked. "Why would you even care what happens to the wychlaren?"
Bastun thought the same question, though his eyes were more open to the bigger picture. He did not entirely trust the durthan, but he understood their point of view well enough to see their reasoning.
"Honesdy?" Anilya said, then added, "I don't. Although my sisters and I have no use for the wychlaren, we do hold Rashemen itself precious and have no desire to suffer a Nar presence anywhere near it."
Thaena was silent. The durthan had made a good point. Though wayward, hostile, and steeped in darkness, the durthan did profess to a certain allegiance to the land that Bastun knew might resonate with the Rashemi. They would never trust her, would fight her or her sisters on any other occasion to defend the rule of the wychlaren, but against a common foe like the
Nar… Bastun shook his head, sensing what was to come next and fearing the consequences.
"Just what is it you propose, Anilya?" Thaena asked, her tone less accusing than before.
"A truce," the durthan replied. "Temporary of course, but long enough that we might use our combined strength against the Creel before they become too entrenched in the Shield to root out."
Bastun sighed, drawing an odd glance from Syrolf, whose hand never strayed from the sword at his side.
"And you feel that we cannot defeat these invaders without your help?" Duras asked, the coil of rope still in hand ready to bind the durthan at Thaena's slightest gesture.
Anilya answered unfazed and as confident as before. "Not at all. The Creel are great warriors, but the berserkers of Rashemen are far greater."
"Then why would we agree to fight alongside a durthan and her motley band of sellswords?" Thaena asked.
"Because of whomever, or whatever, leads the Creel," Anilya said. "Whatever it was that brought them into the City of Weeping Ghosts-ruins they would never normally even risk a glance at-wields a power that evaded the attentions of the wychlaren and the durthan. It is something to be reckoned with, something that requires magic and as much steel as can be gathered."
Thaena nodded and Bastun's hopes faded.
"Syrolf," the ethran said. "Escort the durthan outside to wait with her companion."
The runescarred warrior complied and took Anilya by the arm. Once the door was closed, Thaena turned toward the fang and looked them each in the eye. Duras stared at the unused rope in his hands.