by R. K. Thorne
Alikar narrowed his eyes even further, as if he wanted to pin her to the wall and force her to vote. “Now, please, before we all get pummeled to smithereens by the approaching catapults.”
Catapults. Aven had been very careful to say siege machines. Dyon had repeatedly said ballistae, for some reason, even though he’d seen the enemy’s forces via farsight this morning too. None of the oncoming troops were in sight of the city yet, especially not from this room. And all of them were catapults.
Alikar already knew what type of troops approached the city. And how could he know that? Aven had never had such concrete proof the bastard was a traitor. Had Alikar given the Masters this location? Or did he hope to escape himself before some kind of attack? Damn it.
She lifted her chin even higher, defiantly glaring at Alikar. “My father votes no, he is not fit to be king.”
Alikar nodded, looking round the table, as if he wanted to highlight Sven’s agreement.
“Asten—your vote.”
Did he choose her next because he knew her vote? Was he trying to alternate between positive and negative? How many of these votes did Alikar feel confident in? It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. They can all vote no, and technically it doesn’t change anything.
Except the armory budgets, or where troops are assigned, or…
Asten looked at each of them in turn, then at Aven for a long moment. The length of her stare rattled his nerves, and his stomach sank lower each moment she stared at him. Was that apology in her eyes? She looked back at Alikar.
“Aven is already our king, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Slag off, Alikar.”
The rage that filled Alikar’s face was even more intense than Aven had expected. “Shansaren will regret this. How—” Had he struck some kind of deal? He had expected her vote to go another way, hadn’t he?
Asten dropped her chin, glaring at Alikar and leaning forward on the table. “The use of magic has already provided invaluable aid to us in this war so far, and yes, it is a war. From healing to attacks to intelligence to planning for the oncoming siege weapons.” Was it Aven’s imagination, or was there an emphasis on the final words? “We would be fools to turn away mages even just as weapons when such weapons are being turned against us. And they happen to be good and honorable people to boot.”
Alikar pressed his lips together and acted as if she hadn’t spoken. “Beneral.”
“I believe a mage is especially qualified to be king in a time such as this. I find him a fit prince, king, and leader.”
“Toyl.”
Three in favor, two against. And Alikar had chosen her last. Why exactly had Toyl withheld her vote from Aven? The question haunted him. She had acted friendly, on Aven’s side. Perhaps she was no enemy to Aven but a friend to money. Asten would be hard to buy, and yet it seemed that Alikar had tried. Toyl could be much easier, as trade agreements would benefit both her and her people far more than they would a warden.
Toyl glanced at Aven, her dark eyes glittering, then to the others.
“I have no particular love for mages. I have worshiped at Nefrana’s feet, as she teaches us the error of those ways.” A small smile grew on Alikar’s face as Aven’s stomach sank even further. But didn’t that contradict what she’d said in private? And she’d admonished him for lies. “I do, however, have love for my coffers. And also for those who tell the truth. I would never deign to side with a man who could be bought by our enemies, even if I thought a mage would make a terrible king.”
Alikar stilled, his expression frozen. “I fail to see what pertinence these preferences have to this vote—”
Calmly, Toyl turned and accepted a dark canvas sack and a scroll from an attendant. At the same time, Asten beckoned a soldier forward and did the same. Alikar’s eyes grew wide with some recognition Aven didn’t understand. Lady Toyl continued, “As a matter of fact, these preferences are highly relevant. How did you know that catapults were approaching the city?”
Hope flickered in Aven’s chest.
Alikar scowled. “Aven said as much.”
“The king said siege weapons approached,” Asten said coldly.
“And I said ballistae. Not catapults.” Dyon unfolded his arms and leaned forward over the table too, balancing on his knuckles.
“It does not matter, I just assumed one siege weapon over another. Your vote, my lady.”
“You only had one way of knowing if they are ballistae, catapults, or bears riding horses,” Toyl snapped, “and that’s because you knew of them in advance. But you are right, that could be excused as an honest mistake. Perhaps that does not matter. This, however, does.”
She dropped the sack to the table, the sound of coin clinking like a slap across the face. Asten followed suit, tossing the sack like a gauntlet thrown. Beside it, she placed a scroll with a broken seal of scarlet Kavanarian wax.
Alikar froze.
Toyl folded her arms across her chest. “Assembly members, I submit to you that last evening, Lord Alikar approached me with this bribe and message from King Demikin of Kavanar, attempting to purchase my vote.”
“I received this offer as well, as Lady Toyl warned I would,” said Asten. “She suggested we both accept so as to offer the Assembly this proof. Their offer stands in writing in these scrolls.”
“Clever,” said Beneral. “I rejected the fool. Never thought of accepting to acquire proof.”
Dyon snorted. “Well, now I’m starting to feel left out.”
“Oathbreakers,” Alikar spat at Toyl and Asten in turn, ignoring the men. “Nefrana will not forget this. The gods will curse your souls.”
Toyl laughed in his face. “You accuse me of breaking oaths? And yet you’ve betrayed us all and your sacred duty to the people of Gilaren. This morning, you also sent more than a dozen messages by servant in less than an hour once we’d learned the final location of this meeting. I charge you with treason, for your bribery and sharing the news of this meeting’s location with those who would kill us all.”
Well, by all the ancient ancestors. Aven’s mouth fell open. The Assembly itself had beaten him to the punch. He’d thought to wait until after the vote. He’d had no real evidence, and he hadn’t wanted to look like he was bullying them out of their say.
Aven stood. “I’ll add to those charges of treason that I believe he shared the location of the king on the journey here with our enemies, quite possibly resulting in his death.”
Alikar took a step back, then another, scowling like cornered prey. Thel and several nearby soldiers began to approach and circle him. Alikar’s attendants tensed behind him, and hands reached for sword pommels.
“But if you insist on my vote, I find King Aven perfectly fit to rule,” Toyl said, smirking.
“Seize him,” Beneral ordered. “Take him to the—”
But the lord of the White City never finished that sentence. And in fact, the troops never quite reached Alikar.
A slight whistling sound was the only warning preceding the boulder. Rock smashed through the tower wall, glowing with heat. Rubble tumbled down around them.
Kae stared down at the worn parchment of the leather-bound book with wide eyes. By Nefrana’s blooms. He’d found it.
Dozens and dozens of pages scrawled in an antique hand detailed in excruciating, mournful detail how the original brand had been created. A gathering of thirteen mages of specific types in a specific configuration, activating the right magic in the right order. Elaborately complex, technically beautiful, morally horrifying. He’d found it—the process the Dark Master was searching for.
And also the process that could make Kae a slave again.
He’d hidden his freedom so far. Turned out he knew all too well how to act exactly like a slave, and he hadn’t even caught a flicker of suspicion yet. He’d hoped to find this before the others and then… well, he wasn’t sure what he should do next. He was still shocked that he’d actually succeeded.
Now what?
He glanced at the
other two mages. Thank the gods he had been the one to find it first. The others searched hopelessly. He couldn’t blame them. Idle conversation had revealed that his companions didn’t think they could find what the Dark Master wanted, doubted it even existed. And Kae knew that in spite of their looming deadline, neither of the others wanted to be known as having created a copy of the brand if they did find it. They were doomed either way.
Of course, Kae had more incentive than they to stumble on the information. He’d tried to act as they did—calm, studious, rather bleak—but he knew that his best chance to keep his freedom rested in being much more efficient than these two.
And it had actually worked.
All right. What to do next? First, he needed them to leave. He’d have to stay until they both retired. Then maybe he could set this book aflame or otherwise destroy it without any guards noticing. He glanced at the hearth to the left. Could it be as simple as that? Toss it in, and keep watch until it’d gone to ashes? It was at least a good starting option.
He flipped back dozens of pages to where the section on the brand started and pretended to study the knowledge. But as he read, he started to notice things that he couldn’t help but be intrigued by, and he found himself at times actually studying it.
The brand used the magic of the stars. Of course, of course, that must be why all study of stars had been forbidden, but it was still unexpected. Was that why those Akarians could only free people at night? It must be.
He glanced around at the other two. The older man had fallen asleep, and the other stared out the window. Gods, would they ever leave?
Kae skipped to the end, looking for any indications as to how to break the bond. What if he could do it too? What if he could free these two men, and then the three of them could set this whole damn library on fire? Kae wouldn’t mind going down with the building if it took the power away from these bastards and ended all this madness.
As he searched, the younger of the two men inadvertently woke the other as he rose and stretched. With a nod, the younger headed off to end the day with a meal. Kae hoped his remaining partner would take his lead and be gone soon. He wasn’t looking forward to faking another prayer in front of this man. But he would do it if he had to.
He reached the last crinkling page. No mention of how to break the spell after it had been in place. Damn. That seemed another matter altogether, maybe contained in another volume. But what he did find, to his surprise, was some speculation as to how the brand could be unmade, just as it had been made.
Huh. Could this information be useful? Was there some way that Kae could get his hands on the brand on the way out as he made his escape?
Why did they need another brand anyway? Sure, Daes had given them a reason, a new mage site and bringing mages from other lands, but it felt off. The effort rushed. It didn’t ring with the truth.
Could Jaena have stolen it? Those alarms had gone off the day that she had disappeared, the day after she’d been freed.
The day Kae had seen her in the smithy.
Which was the same place that they enslaved innocent mages.
It had to be true. Jaena must’ve stolen the brand. They needed a replacement, not a copy. They had been bringing in more and more mages, but they hadn’t been enslaving any of them. They were all actually shackled or in the dungeons, which worked poorly, especially for the creature mages, who seemed to be giving them trouble left and right. It seemed so obvious, how could he have missed it?
If the brand was gone, and this book was gone, then he and Jaena had the potential to stop the Masters forever. Kae himself could stop them from replacing the brand forever. Sure, mages would still need to be freed. But if they couldn’t make new slaves? What a victory that would be.
His other companion rose with a stretch. “Calling it a night, Kae,” he said. “See you on the morrow. Hopefully the Dark Master will see to ignore us once again, with our task unfinished.”
“Indeed. Have a restful evening.” Kae nodded and smiled, more out of relief that the man was finally leaving than anything else.
As soon as the door shut again, Kae dashed to the fireplace and tossed in the book.
The flames did not lick as quickly as he’d hoped. The leather binding apparently wasn’t the most flammable thing in the world. He watched as the dark black leather curled and started to smoke.
As he stared off into space, waiting, a new idea popped into his head. If Jaena did have the brand, did she need to know how to destroy it?
He could destroy the book. Or he could try to escape with the book and find Jaena and then truly end all this. One option was significantly harder and riskier than the other.
He didn’t care.
He sprinted to the fireplace and grabbed the book from the blaze, wincing as the flames nipped at his skin. He tossed the smoking book into the water pail that waited in case the fire got out of control.
“Damn the seven hells,” he swore, fishing the book out of the water as quickly as he could. He’d probably destroyed it with that alone. He tried to open an early page. Some water smeared the ink, and some was intact, but opening the pages was smearing it all the more. He snapped the steaming, smoky pile of rubble of a book shut. By the gods. Well, it had already been done, he couldn’t undo burning or submerging the book now. He’d just have to take his chances.
He didn’t have time to hesitate. He spotted a scarf and cloak the younger air mage had forgotten on the bench nearby. He grabbed it and wrapped the book in the scarf, then tucked it into his jerkin. Then he pulled on the cloak. He would need to run soon, before the guards wanted to shut the library and go home. But he had a few moments to prepare. He searched around the table for anything that could help him. A bone folder, a small knife for fixing and adjusting the bookbindings, charcoal. Hmm.
Suddenly the peal of the prayer bells, high and musical, broke out across the growing night. The prayer was beginning.
By Nefrana. This was his chance. All would be knelt in prayer, and the mages of the guard towers would be compelled to submit to the goddess, rather than resist him.
Kae crept on tiptoe to the door of the library, waiting as the prayers progressed just a little further into meditation. And… yes, peeking around the corner revealed the guards were not looking at the door.
Hoping the smell of smoke that remained did not reach them, Kae slipped out into the hallway and the darkness on the other side. If the gods were with him, the evening’s prayers might give him what he needed to slip by.
And if they weren’t, he’d just have to fight.
Jaena, I hope you’re out there, he thought. Have I got something to show you.
“Everybody out of the tower!”
“Down, down, down.”
“To the cellar.”
Jaena squinted up at the oncoming boulder, then looked around frantically. Someone—something—there had to be something they could do to stop it. The cocky blond mage passed in front of her on his way toward the stairs.
She grabbed his arm. “No. You’re an air mage, right?”
He squinted at her for a moment, then nodded briskly.
“They’re pushing the catapults with magic. Two can play at that game. Come help me.”
His eyes narrowed further as he thought it through, then nodded. He followed her out onto the ramparts.
“Hey, now. You’re not going anywhere without me.” Tharomar charged after them, and she smothered a smile, hiding it with a turn of her head. She and the air mage would be busy with magic, too busy to notice any oncoming projectiles. Someone needed to stand watch over them. And she really had no intention of losing him again, especially not after last night.
“Wait—” Aven jogged up behind them. “What are you doing?”
“Get on down there,” she said. “Figure out what to do next. I think I know a way we can fight them off.”
“She’s got a mind to give them a taste of their own medicine, I think,” Derk chimed in.
“I’ll
help—”
“No. We need you alive and well to free the rest of them.” Jaena held up a flat hand, stopping him.
Aven hesitated.
“And also to lead this country against them, I might add,” Lord Dyon said, jogging back to them. Had he overheard the conversation? “My lord, come.”
Lord Beneral trotted up behind him. “You all need to get down from here. We’re rolling out our siege, but it will take time. It’s far from reaching them. Our riders will reach them first. The catapults are still several miles away.”
“No. We have a plan.” Jaena started backing away, wondering if they’d actually try to stop her. “Aven—go with them. Tell us how to join you down there. If it’s not working, we’ll follow.”
“Fine. Take this.” Beneral handed them a spyglass and gave them a few quick directions.
The three of them trotted along the ramparts and back up the stairs of the next tower. Where had the first few projectiles landed? Could they see the catapults at all from this distance?
She squinted, then took up the spyglass for a good look. “Let’s try to fling it back at them. Ready?”
A massive boulder flew through the air. They readied themselves, and she caught its essence, trying to lighten the load as Derk sent a great gust of air behind the catapult. The stone flew, crossing the great distance. It cratered a few hundred yards short but continued to roll. Jaena winced as it leveled part of a farm. At least it was after harvest time.
She tried to shove it along, but she could not quite reach it. The roll slowed, and then slowed some more, and then stopped. It came to rest just short of the catapults without doing any damage.
“Oh, that’s just great.” Derk swore.
“We meant to use their weapon against them, and instead we politely returned their ammunition. Damn it,” said Jaena.
“It was only your first shot.” Ro put his hand on her shoulder. “Try again. They have the help of the catapults, and you don’t.”