Sanctuary Defiled: Soul in Ashes, #3

By Shauna E. Black

A mysterious illness threatens the lives of Alswyn's friends and associates in the cloistered sanctuary that has been her home for nearly a year. When one of the victims dies, the abbot places the sanctuary under quarantine. But there's no stopping the disease, especially when victims begin to morph into vaylah, bird-like servants of the evil goddess Dera. Those left alive blame Alswyn for the sanctuary's ruin, and she must overcome her religious aversions in order to enter the holiest shrine, where answers await.

Will her submission to the gods prove enough to save those she loves?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Shauna E. Black
• Release date: May 26, 2016
• ISBN: 9781940855080

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Sanctuary Defiled: Soul in Ashes Book 3

Text copyright © 2016, 2018 Shauna E. Black

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means without the express written permission of Shauna E. Black.

Sanctuary Defiled / Shauna E. Black

Summary: A mysterious illness threatens the lives of Alswyn's friends, and the sanctuary is placed under quarantine. But there is no stopping the disease, especially when victims begin to morph into vaylah, bird-like servants of the evil goddess Dera. Those left alive blame Alswyn for the sanctuary's ruin, and she must overcome her religious aversions in order to enter the holiest shrine, where answers await.

This is a work of fiction. Settings and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance characters may have to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

To Mr. Keck

for teaching me about harmony

PROLOGUE

Bridei fought back her tears as Lord Riata came in the tent like a storm unleashed and knelt at the feet of King Talorc. It wouldn’t do to cry at a time like this.

By Ragnell’s staff, I swear to you, my friend, she will be avenged. King Talorc leaned forward from his throne and grasped her father’s arm.

A slight tremor rustled the white fur draped across Riata’s broad shoulders. He was a big man, covered in hard cords of muscle, with a bald head and a grisly white beard still speckled with shots of red. His presence seemed to fill the large tent, command attention even more than the High King on his elaborately carved wooden throne.

Talorc held out a thin ribbon of cloth. We recovered this from an enemy scout, but it’s gibberish. The spy must have used a code stick.

Riata glanced up at the cloth, but didn’t touch it. Bridei could just make out dark markings on the strip. When wound around an object, it would reveal a message. Such a code was virtually undecipherable unless one had the object originally used to write the code, or an object exactly like it.

We will find the traitor, King Talorc vowed fiercely, and he will face my wrath.

Riata’s voice sounded strangled. Tell me where Skya’s body lies.  He kept his head down, his face hidden. I will give her the last rites, then my daughters can prepare her vigil.

A hand gripped Bridei’s. She looked over at her sister, Alswyn. They both wore leather armor, smeared and bloody from the battle just won. However, there would be no victory celebration this night. Now that they were touching, Bridei could feel Alswyn trembling, but no sign of her distress showed in her face. Skya had taught her daughters well.

Talorc leaned back and snapped his fingers at a young man standing in the shadow behind his throne. My son will escort you personally, Lord Riata.

Cynet stepped forward and bowed to Riata. He was everything a high king could ask for in the son destined to take his throne: charismatic and handsome with long blond braids tied back at the nape of a strong neck, and a body like an oak. He had not proven himself yet in battle, but the warriors already looked up to him and followed his orders without question.

As Cynet straightened, his narrow eyes flickered to Bridei. She blushed and silently cursed.

No more than a fortnight ago, Cynet had come to her with words of love, in spite of the fact he was engaged to marry her sister Alswyn. Of course, Bridei had refused him, but she hadn’t told Alswyn about it. Bridei had always been surrounded by men who were comrades in arms, and she had never been the recipient of a romantic proposal. Every time she looked at Cynet, her emotions whirled and tumbled in a ball of confusion. The smug smile teasing the corners of Cynet’s mouth said he knew the effect he had on her.

But now she had no patience for a prince’s dalliance. Her mother was dead, killed at Volas Pass by an ambush. They had yet to discover who had betrayed her.

If you will follow me, my lord. Cynet gestured toward the entrance, and Riata stood with head still bowed.

As he came down the dais, he stopped beside Bridei and Alswyn. Morcant will bring you everything you need for the cleansing, he said without looking at them. The vigil begins at midnight.

Bridei felt as though wolves ripped out her heart as she watched her father exit the tent. She squared her shoulders. Skya would not expect her oldest daughter to show anything but strength, even under the direst of circumstances. Besides, Skya had died in the heat of battle, an honorable death that deserved respect and rejoicing.

Bridei gave Talorc a half bow. My lord, she said hesitantly, may I keep that cloth?

King Talorc’s eyebrows rose. He looked down at the spy’s strip he still held in his hand, then offered it to her. Perhaps you can make better sense of it than my advisers.

With another bow, Bridei led Alswyn from the tent. It was cold outside, as if the world had lost all its warmth when it lost the greatest champion the T’yatha had. The noise of a busy war camp seemed dim and inconsequential, the banging of cooking pots and whisk of sharpening stones on weapons all but futile endeavors.

Once inside the tent she shared with Alswyn, Bridei stripped off her bloodied armor and threw it at the foot of her cot. Morcant would clean it later. Alswyn imitated her motions. Neither spoke. Bridei feared that if she said anything, her emotions would flood out of her in a blizzard she couldn’t stop. So she said nothing.

At length, Morcant arrived with two long white dresses made of heavy wool and a basin of water in which lavender blossoms floated. Every family kept a supply of dried flowers for