The Conspiracy of Magic

by Harriet Whitehorn

  “Yes, sire, I do apologize most sincerely,” Dacha said, bowing at his departing figure.

  The guards walked over to them. “Who’s a naughty boy then?” one of them said to Dacha.

  “Me,” Dacha replied and then he leaped forwards with his dagger drawn. Cass was only a second later and because of the element of surprise, she could perform a move called ‘the sleep chop’ on one of the guards. If you hit exactly the right place on the back of someone’s neck hard, you can knock them unconscious. She did it perfectly and the guard crumpled to the ground. Dacha’s guard wasn’t as lucky – Dacha had to use his dagger and the man collapsed in a puddle of blood.

  “Right, we need to get out of here now,” Dacha said and they sprinted along the corridor back towards the mountain door.

  Three guards were there. They looked at Dacha and Cass coming towards them without undue alarm; after all a teenage boy and girl didn’t look like the most threatening of enemies. So again the pair had the element of surprise which served them well, at least to start with.

  The larger and more burly of the guards headed for Cass while the other two focused on Dacha. The heavy man was a better fighter than Cass was expecting and knew how to use his weight to great effect, nearly flooring Cass. She only just avoided him, landing badly on her wrist. Pain shot through it, but she was back on her feet in a moment, and this time she got him in a hold and scooted his feet out from under him. Reluctant to kill him, she hesitated and that was her mistake. The other guard, seeing his friend in danger, flung himself at Cass, knocking her over and sending her dagger spinning into the air. Both men were back on their feet in a moment.

  Look for their weaknesses, Cass said to herself as she faced them. She grabbed her dagger off the floor and waited for them to attack her, which they did. She dodged the heavy man, rounding back on him with her knife and this time she stabbed him hard in the leg. He bellowed with pain and it gave her a moment to push him to the floor, where she could knock him out. The other saw this then turned and ran, shouting for help.

  “Grab his sword!” Dacha panted. His guard lay unconscious on the floor and Dacha stripped him quickly of any weapons. “Come, we must fly.”

  The door opened out on to an expanse of deep snow. A path had been cut through it leading to some woods to the west. “This way,” Dacha cried and they sprinted along the path as fast as they could. They had hardly gone any distance when the barking and baying of hunting dogs sang across the silent, snowy landscape. A wave of fear shot through Cass that was so intense she thought she might vomit.

  “They’ve set the dogs on us!” Dacha cried, grabbing Cass’s hand and pulling her along even faster. She glanced back to see their dark bodies streaking across the landscape. They were in the woods now and both knew that the dogs would rip them to pieces if they caught them. On and on the pair went, their lungs on fire, using every last piece of strength that they had, surging deeper into the forest. When they thought they had left the hounds behind, they stopped to catch their breath, only to hear the sound of barking seconds away.

  Hand in hand they struggled on, knowing the beasts would be on them any moment. Then when all seemed lost, Dacha nearly screamed with relief.

  “Here it is!”

  Before Cass could say anything Dacha had pulled her over to something – a ladder – and shoved her up on to a wooden platform, pulling himself and the ladder up behind him. He was only just in time. The dogs swarmed below them, snapping and snarling, rearing up on their hind legs. But they couldn’t reach them.

  “What is this?” Cass asked Dacha, when she had caught her breath.

  “It’s a huntsman’s platform,” Dacha replied, nervously watching the dogs below. “I wonder if they will send guards out too?”

  “Probably,” Cass replied. “But let’s wait and see. I’d rather fight them than be ripped to pieces by the dogs.”

  “Agreed,” Dacha replied. And so they waited.

  But no one came and the dogs, unable to reach their prey, soon tired. When one hound darted off in another direction after a fox, the others bounded away too. Then a low whistle came through the woods, calling the dogs back to the palace.

  “We must go now. As soon as they realize the dogs haven’t got us they’ll come after us on horseback,” Dacha said, pulling a flask out of his pocket with a shaking hand. He took a long swig from it and passed it to Cass, who did the same, and she felt her nerves steady slightly. Dacha picked up a couple of packs that Cass hadn’t noticed and dusted the snow off them.

  “I left these here this morning. There’s enough food in them for a few days, and tinder. I also packed you a hat and some gloves. Oh, and these.” He handed Cass a pair of snowshoes and a staff.

  “Well done,” Cass replied and took them from him. “Are we headed to the Bundish border?” she asked as she climbed down the ladder.

  “Yes, to Harn. My uncle and aunt live nearby and I have a contact there who smuggled me across the border. Hopefully he should be able to get us out too.”

  “How were your aunt and uncle?” Cass asked, remembering his concern for them at the Ice Fair.

  “Not great,” Dacha replied. “I wish they’d leave but it has become almost impossible.” He hoisted his pack on to his back. “Anyway, after Harn, we had better go straight to Oskbar to tell King Hoff about Vegna’s intention to invade Metrete.”

  Cass nodded. “That’s a good plan, Dacha, but you know Nym is not going to let me go easily,” she said with a deep sigh. “She went to a good deal of trouble to capture me in the first place, and now I know about their plans they will do everything in their power to stop me. The dogs are only the beginning.”

  “I know, Cass,” Dacha replied. “But we have to try. Come on, let’s get going. It’s this way…” He led them along a narrow track that wound its way up into the mountains.

  It snowed all morning, at times so fiercely that Cass could only see a metre ahead of her. She had to work hard not to lose her sense of direction as she and Dacha picked their way along the maze of mountain paths. They sought the route with the most cover, through the densest forest and away from any farms or settlements. Perhaps because of the weather, or perhaps by luck, they met no one and the only sounds they heard were the cawing of the snow ravens high above them and the crunch of fresh snow under their shoes.

  At around midday, the snowfall stopped and the sky brightened, and through the trees Cass managed to catch glimpses of the snow-drenched valley that they were walking through. They paused to eat a little of the bread that Dacha had brought, at a point where they had a clear view through the trees to the road far below them. It was swarming with palace guards.

  “Looking for us,” Cass said nervously and Dacha nodded in response.

  The sight of the soldiers quickened their feet. The bright weather made the going easier but they were also aware it made them infinitely more visible. Cass’s eyes kept darting above them, looking for any glimpse of a woodland warbler. So in some ways they were both pleased when, as the afternoon waned, the weather began to deteriorate again. Heavy clouds closed in, threatening more snow. The light was fading and the temperature, which had never been high, was dropping. Despite their hard marching, Cass was beginning to shiver and her hands and feet were numb with cold.

  “I think we should look for somewhere to spend the night and soon, before we get caught in another blizzard,” she said to Dacha.

  “I agree,” he replied. “What do you think we should do? We could camp somewhere in the woods – perhaps we can find a cave or a woodsman’s hut. But then we will have to light a fire to stop ourselves freezing to death. Or should we drop down into the valley to find a farm and spend the night with some animals in a barn?”

  Cass weighed up the options. “If we light a fire we might as well shout ‘here we are!’” she said.

  “Not if there’s a blizzard, which it looks likely there will be,” Dacha pointed out.

  “That’s true,” Cass agreed. “Perhaps
that is the safer option. We could easily be caught if we try to sleep in a barn. What do you think?”

  Dacha thought for a moment. “I think we should stay high, it feels less risky. Let’s look for somewhere, a cave would be best. It’s not as visible and it’ll be easier to keep watch.”

  Cass agreed and they trudged on, keeping their eyes peeled.

  About an hour passed and flurries of snow were beginning to fall. Cass was so freezing and exhausted that she would have been happy to just lie down in the snow.

  “Let’s make camp in the woods,” Cass said wearily. “I can’t go on much longer.”

  Dacha turned to her. “No need. Look!” Cass followed his gaze and there, in the murky light, she could see the outline of a hut.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” she exclaimed and they lumbered over to it.

  Woodsmen’s huts were dotted all over the forests of Veraklia and Bunderland and were used not only by the woodsmen and women who worked felling timber in the warmer months, but also by hunters and pig herders. They spent every autumn with their charges, while the animals gorged themselves on the pine nuts and grey velante mushrooms that grew in the mountain forests. The hut was simple with a single window, a small stove, a couple of stools and some bedrolls, but to Dacha and Cass it felt like a palace.

  “Look, the last inhabitant has even left us some wood,” Dacha exclaimed.

  “And tea!” Cass said, picking up a jar from the windowsill and opening it. She inhaled the smell.

  “Bitter tea,” she said longingly. “I haven’t had a cup for months. Not since the fair in Oskbar.”

  “Let’s get a fire going,” Dacha said.

  “I think we should wait for it to snow more,” Cass replied, looking out of the window.

  Dacha nodded and eased his pack off his back, and taking off his snowshoes, he unwrapped the bedroll and lay down. He was asleep and snoring in seconds.

  “I’ll keep watch, shall I?” Cass asked with a laugh. There was no response.

  When Dacha woke up an hour later, he found that the hut was deliciously warm and Cass was perched on a stool drinking a cup of tea and looking out of the window. It was dark outside but you could just see by the reflected light from the stove that a snowstorm had blown in.

  “It started blizzarding after you went to sleep so I decided I could risk it,” she said.

  “Good decision!” he said, sitting up and looking cheerful. “Shall we have something to eat? Then I’ll keep watch while you get some sleep.”

  They ate a small but tasty meal of dried meat, chewy dark bread and some dried apricots and drank more bitter tea. But Cass could feel her eyelids beginning to droop.

  Dacha noticed and said, “You sleep for a few hours now. I’ll keep watch.” Cass accepted gratefully and unrolled the other bedroll. She fell asleep in seconds, just as Dacha had done.

  “Cass! Wake up! We need to go!” Cass blearily opened her eyes to find Dacha shaking her arm urgently. It took her a few seconds to remember where she was. The fire in the stove was out and she could see the moon through the window. The snow had cleared.

  “I think someone’s out there, in the woods. I saw a light, just for a second, like a firefly,” Dacha said.

  Cass was instantly awake. “Or someone lighting a match for a cigarillo,” she replied.

  “Exactly,” he said.

  Cass sprang up and pulled on her boots. Snowshoes were no good if you were in a hurry so she shoved them in her pack, along with her hat and gloves. She pulled on her coat, refastened her sword and scabbard around her waist and slung the pack on her back. Dacha was standing to the side of the window, looking out. “I don’t know if I imagined it but I think I just saw something move in those trees.”

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” Cass said.

  But as she spoke someone kicked in the door.

  The hut was so small that only one person could come in at a time and this worked to Cass and Dacha’s advantage – they dispatched the first two figures with ease. But their two comrades were not going to make the same mistake. They waited for Dacha and Cass to tentatively walk out of the door before they pounced.

  There was just enough light for a sword fight, the blades catching the moonlight, but Cass could hardly make out the face of the person attacking her. It was only when she had defeated him that she saw he was a boy about the same age as her. I’m sorry, she said in her head.

  “They’re soldiers, not palace guards,” Dacha said in a low voice.

  “Do you think they were a random patrol?” Cass asked.

  Dacha sighed. “I’d like to think that, but I suspect that they were looking for us.” He paused before saying, “Come on, we should get going.”

  It was still several hours until dawn, but Cass and Dacha’s eyes soon adapted to the darkness. They went warily, trying to keep to the densest parts of the forest, but it wasn’t long before they saw another group of soldiers huddled round a fire. Cass and Dacha picked their way silently above them, but quickly came across yet another group. As soon as they were clear of that lot, the pair stopped for a whispered conversation.

  “This is hopeless,” Dacha said. “The woods are swarming with soldiers and once the light comes in a couple of hours it will be impossible for us to avoid them.” He sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. His voice was full of defeat. “I’ve been stupid to bring us this way. To head to Harn is the obvious thing to do.”

  “But what other option is there? We need to warn King Hoff,” Cass replied.

  “We can’t warn him if we are dead.”

  “True. Do you want to head into the Northern Wastes? We could perhaps hide there. Or what about the Citadel of the Mountain Sisters? Could we claim sanctuary with them?”

  Dacha shook his head. “The Mountain Sisters are too connected to the queen – they would hand us over immediately. If we head north then we are quickly into mining country and there is nothing there but snow, ice wolves and slave gangs. The cold is even more brutal and it will be impossible to find anything to eat or anywhere to stay.”

  “What about heading down to Naz instead?” Cass asked. Naz was another border town, about twenty miles south of Harn.

  “Possibly,” he replied, weighing it up. “But I know no one in Naz. How will we begin to find someone to take us across the border?”

  “There will be some way I’m sure. We won’t know unless we try,” Cass said, trying to sound as optimistic as she could.

  So they headed south, picking their way carefully down the valleys. The dawn broke, which helped them a little as they could see where the soldiers were by the trails of smoke that their fires made. The woods were indeed crawling with men. They had a couple of near misses later in the morning once the soldiers were on the move but luck was on their side again and, by midday, they were seeing fewer patrols. They pushed themselves on and in the late afternoon they dropped down into lower country where they passed a few isolated farms.

  As they knew there was no question of a fire, when night had fallen and they could bear the cold no more they crept into a barn where they spent a freezing, uncomfortable night with a herd of noisy sheep for company. They woke again as early as they could and walked on, trying to ignore the bitter cold, eager to put as many miles as they could between themselves and the soldiers.

  In the mid-afternoon, as the light was beginning seep away, they took a steep, rocky path that led them down into a narrow, secluded valley.

  “I think this is the Hidden Valley,” Dacha said, looking around him. “Which means we have come too far east.” He sighed.

  Cass was fighting great waves of exhaustion. “Never mind. Let’s find somewhere to spend the night before it gets dark and then we can double back in the morning and head west.”

  “I hear there’s a fine inn just down the valley – it’s famous for its delicious stew and noodles,” Dacha joked.

  Cass laughed. “If only…” she replied when suddenly something hurtled through the air from above, c
overing both of them. It took Cass a moment to realize that it was a net. She immediately went to draw her dagger but before she could, she felt the sharp point of a sword against her neck and a voice said in a strong Veraklian accent, “Neither of you move.”

  The net was ripped off and several figures surrounded them. Seven, Cass quickly counted, including the two that had swords pointed at Dacha and her. They all had scarves over their faces like the Sins and shepherds’ hats pulled low over their brows so Cass couldn’t tell whether they were men or women. But they were clearly not soldiers or palace guards.

  “Who are you?” one of the figures asked Cass and Dacha.

  “Just travellers,” Dacha replied as casually as he could with a sword at his throat.

  “There are no travellers in Veraklia, not these days. So you’ll need to do better than that.”

  Whoever these people are, Cass thought, they are outlaws or bandits of some description and unlikely to be friends of the queen. But perhaps there will be a price on our heads that will tempt them to hand us over? Cass weighed it up in her mind. The men hadn’t gone straight for their wallets, which suggested they weren’t robbers so perhaps any reward wouldn’t be of any interest.

  “Come on, who are you?” the voice insisted and the pressure of the sword tip on Cass’s throat increased. She decided to take a chance.

  “We have escaped from the palace at Iz,” Cass replied.

  Dacha threw her a look clearly saying, Are you crazy?

  “Really,” the voice said, sounding interested. “Well, you’d better come with us then.”

  Before they knew what was happening they were blindfolded and gagged and their hands were bound. Cass felt her arms being grabbed tightly and she was marched off through the woods.

  It was hard to tell how far they walked but Cass reckoned it was only about half a mile. They appeared to go down and then up and she heard an owl hoot and some other animal calls but nothing gave her any real clue which direction they were being taken in.