Arabesque

Marin

Marin Hanani waited as the horses approached her hiding place and she could make out the riders clad in green. Wind tugged at their cloaks, revealing the glint of worn chain mail. Their mounts were fine and tall, each standing over seventeen hands, and still running strong after miles of rough road. The group's leader cantered easily just ahead of the others. In the fading daylight, Marin saw an emblem on his horse's caparison: a staggered cross, the sign of the Four Banners.

Marin rose and swept back her hood, calling out, "Tread softly into unknown lands, Torre Lavvann." Her voice was low, but it carried over the clatter of the horses' hooves. 

The lead rider pulled hard on the reins. His coal-black steed shied and almost reared. Strands of silvery hair poked from beneath Lavvann's helmet of tarnished steel as he regained control of his horse and stopped just across the barrier from her. Marin noticed his sword half drawn, and then sliding back into its scabbard as he recognized her. The corner of his mouth twisted upward in mild amusement as their eyes met.

"Wise words that you rarely heed." Lavvann's tone balanced respect and mockery. His sword hand rested on the hilt and his other hand gripped the reins as his horse circled in the center of the road. "You left your horse at Darós. It's well to tread softly, Marin Hanani, but that was foolish."

"There was little time," she said. "Had I waited to alert the company,  the kayal would have been lost in the woods." A smile played across her lips. "But I see you found my message."

"Reckless. T0 go out alone and give chase to a kayal is a fool's errand." Lavvann said. "You can be far too careless. One day it will cost you, Marin. That in itself would be a grave loss. And what if it cost the lives of others? Perhaps others in this company?"

The rebuke from her captain was sharp, but it came with an undertone of affection and respect. He knew her skills, and he was genuinely

concerned. Marin bowed her head at his words, but she would not submit completely. This was her chase, and she would not fail.

Her company had been on a routine patrol of Aeíx when it received a message from Prince Laman Piríst, whose son Maeros had been missing for eight days. Panic had gripped the royal house.

For years the people of this island had suffered at the hands of the kayal, and now the dark things were no longer just a farmer's problem. The powerful and fortunate had felt the kayal's evil touch. Maeros had been taken.

Finding him alive was a mission of the Four Banners, especially in a place where the laws were weak, and Lavvann's company had a solemn duty to see it through.

But there would be no happy ending.

Five days later, the prince's son had been found dead—butchered in a stable outside the village of Darós. He had been nailed to the rafters by his wrists and ankles, and sliced open from throat to groin, entrails splayed on the floor below him in a macabre web. His fingers had been hacked off just above the knuckles, his feet removed at the arch. Signs of a struggle indicated that Maeros had been mutilated while still alive. The stable too had been defiled, with evil runes and cursed images scrawled on the walls and dirt floor. Whatever the killer's reasons for this insane carnage, the murder was a message: no one was safe.

The kayal were horrible creatures, demonic fiends that escaped through the veil of the unseen world to prey on the living in the mortal realm of Mir'aj. Were they spawn of the Jnoun? Or demons from another dark abyss? Marin did not know. But she knew the kayal were capable of unspeakably wicked deeds.

Piríst's heralds called upon Marin's company for help because the very name of the Four Banners evoked dread in the hearts of most enemies—most natural enemies, that is. The kayal had no regard for flags or nations, although their killing of Maeros suggested an understanding of political motives. And while the Prince must have known there was little chance of catching any kayal before they fled back into the darkness, all he could do was appeal to an alliance known for solving the unsolvable.