Knight of Stars

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by Tom Lloyd


  ‘Gods-in-shards,’ breathed someone down the barge. ‘What are those?’

  Heads turned towards Lastani and Atieno. The white-haired academic shook her head, while the man beside her remained impassive as he watched.

  ‘They’ve no name that I ever heard,’ Atieno said at last in the gravelly voice of a man past his prime. On his neck there was a willow-leaf mark, pale against his dark skin, that told a different story. He’d grown used to his modest skills with the most perilous forms of magic, tempest, only to have that wax just when it should be starting to wane.

  ‘How do you know they ain’t firedrakes?’

  ‘Because firedrakes do not dance,’ Lastani interjected. ‘They do not fly high in the sky and tend to be more wreathed in flames. That is not a fire that scorches the sky, it is light itself – pure and crisp.’

  ‘The Duegar gave them a name,’ Toil pointed out. ‘There was that glyph in the lower level of the Labyrinth. You didn’t recognise it, but it must have represented light elementals. There was one for wind too.’

  ‘Can you translate it?’

  She shook her head. ‘Not in a way that makes sense.’

  ‘Lastani, can you tempt ’em closer?’ Lynx asked.

  ‘Closer? Why would you want that?’

  He shrugged. ‘So we can get a better look. Magic attracts elementals doesn’t it?’

  ‘If one of us was a light mage, perhaps. The shadowshards doubtless attend Sitain, the leviathan we saw once was just passing through. There are old magics buried in the canal walls to keep them standing and Sitain’s presence calls the shadowshards, but I cannot see why the light elementals would come close.’ She shook her head. ‘Hopefully it’s just coincidence.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I have only read scant accounts of light elementals – this is quite unlike the dance of the thunderbird, lighting up the clouds of a storm. It is incredibly rare for even a mage to witness some yet there they are, unless we are mistaken.’ Lastani glanced at Atieno before continuing. ‘We do not know what others may also exist.’

  Atieno nodded. ‘If there’s more magic in the world, elementals might become more common than ever since the days of the Duegar. And if you think firedrakes are bastards, imagine what destruction might be wrought by the embodiment of tempest as it pays me a visit.’

  Several of the Cards started to edge away from Atieno. Most of them hadn’t seen his corrupting, twisting, magic at work, but everyone had heard stories. They were likely the true inspiration of horror stories about dark mages. Even if those were all lies, tempest magic remained wild and dangerous. He might have more control than ever these days, but Atieno would be the last to trust any tempest elemental.

  A hand suddenly shot up, Kas’s voice breaking the silence. ‘Wait – what’s that?’

  All heads turned back as they scanned the sky in momentary panic. It wasn’t a swirling storm of an elemental bearing down upon the barge, however, but something in the distant sky.

  There were shapes moving against the deep blue, black specks in the distance but moving fast and more than Lynx could easily count. It resembled a murmuration of starlings, not quite that fast-flowing cloud of birds, but many creatures flying high. High enough to be moving only towards one thing – the dancing light elementals.

  ‘What are they? I’ve never seen a flock fly so high,’ Kas said. ‘And what would they want with the elementals?’

  ‘Oh gods,’ Toil said after a few moments. ‘That can’t be good.’

  ‘What? Why not?’ someone demanded. Deern.

  ‘Remember Shadows Deep? The golantha?’

  ‘What about it?’

  ‘The thing fed on magic – the shadowshards feared it, Sitain said.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘So the wilds out here run for three hundred miles, but in the heart of them is a place not so different to Shadows Deep. More to see from the surface so I’ve heard, less of the deepest black, but home to all sorts of strange creatures. Might be they’re hunting.’

  ‘Hunting elementals?’

  ‘Why not? They’re both drawn to the places of magic and we know there are creatures that feed on it.’

  ‘But we’re on a place of magic. We’ve got elementals following us too. Oh.’

  A collective gloom settled over the Cards. Up until now they had been enjoying the calm passage and warm spring of the south, their numbers enough to ward off the threat of raiders even out in these isolated parts. For a long while they could only watch in silence as the great flock surged towards the dancing ribbons of light. They moved closer and closer without the elementals seeming to notice. Only when the haze of creatures was upon them did the elementals dart away, scattering in a flash of movement.

  The flock pursued only one, spiralling to follow it west – pursuing even when its light faded. The streaks of light came only in bursts, sprints it could not sustain and the flock chased even when the elemental was invisible to the ground. It turned one way then another without Lynx being able to see anything of its quarry, before a thin blade of white betrayed its presence and showed the flock closing.

  Three times it turned, the flock stuttering and changing direction, but all the while its formless shape evolved and changed as others led the pursuit. Then it broke into two groups. One smaller part peeled away and let the larger herd the elemental towards it. They converged no more than ten seconds later, a single flash of white appearing at the heart of it all and then nothing.

  Lynx looked away as someone gave a small cry of dismay. The shadowshards were still with them, winking in and out of sight in the low cover at the canal side, but dusk was coming on swiftly and he could barely make them out.

  What are you really? Animals? Beings closer to the gods than anything of flesh? Does anyone alive even know?

  ‘Have we just happened to witness something so rare accounts of it have never reached any book I’ve ever read?’ Lastani breathed in wonder. ‘Or has this been almost unseen in centuries for a reason?’

  Her only answer was Anatin standing abruptly, the ageing commander snapping his orders like a wary dog. ‘Extra guards on every shift. At least one of the marked Cards on duty each night, watching the sky.’

  As the grumbles started he gave a loud bark of anger. ‘Any of you don’t like it – tough shit. Anyone want to cast blame for this, there she is – your employer. Good luck with it.’

  The one-handed mercenary turned and stamped away to his cabin, waving Payl on with him. Lynx looked around at the remaining faces on deck, but it was mostly alarm he could see. Extra guard shifts were hardly a rare thing at the best of times and they’d at least had time to recover since Jarrazir’s many excitements.

  Now the Cards were reunited with their greatest love, beer, and heading to the source of half the continent’s more exotic drugs. No one was about to complain too hard at the woman putting so much money in their pockets. Not until the monsters came for them anyway. Still, they all kept their guns a little closer to hand. The holiday was over.

  Chapter 3

  The hunt of the light elementals left the Cards in reflective mood and for once the posted guards were alert through the night. Their passage down the canal remained peaceful, however – lazy, quiet days punctuated only by brief moments of alertness as they passed barges doing the return journey. Most were in trains of three or four and known to the barge-master and his crew. Ambushes were rare in any case, despite this being too far south to have a Militant Order presence. With the mage-guns of the Cards on show, it was the other crews moving warily.

  News was exchanged, some small trade done and then the barges would continue on their way. Once, the hour and friendship had prompted an impromptu party of barge crews, but it remained reserved. The barge folk were a disparate, extended family much like the Cards, but godly in a quiet fashion. They despised the fanaticism of the Militant Orders and abhorred violence, however much they recognised the need for guards out in the wilds. They moved cautiously aroun
d the Cards as a result, but even the troublesome members of the company wanted a quiet journey.

  The street fight against the Charnelers had been swift and brutal, ten Cards dead by the end. During the days and nights that followed, Jarrazir had witnessed a surge of drugs and illicit booze sweep through the shocked, scarred city and the Cards had led the charge. It had been a spent and grieving company that was herded on to barges for the long journey to the Mage Islands.

  One bright light for them had been the return of a former Card, Colet, who’d spent six months recuperating from a wound. Suth, the new Knight of Tempest, had brought on a few Jarrazirans to help cover the losses too, after much discussion between Toil and Anatin. As the days passed and the Cards had little to do beyond talk and gamble, the new members settled in well. With nothing to serve as baggage the way Lynx’s Hanese heritage did, even Deern could find little to complain about skilled veterans boosting their numbers.

  Only when the barge-master announced they were four days from Caldaire did the Cards begin to stir from their quiet haze of drink, mourning and some of the more sedate Jarraziran drugs. Anatin passed the word for a company muster on deck of the biggest barge and by fits and starts the mercenaries gathered. As they did so, the barge crew drifted away, abandoning their posts after Anatin made it clear he didn’t want them near.

  Anatin had, of course, taken the greatest share of the com­pany’s pay and the grey-haired mercenary had kept one Jarraziran tailor busy until the day they departed. While he had hardly become a dandy in the last few weeks, Anatin now cut a fine figure of a mercenary captain with a silk-lined jacket of green draped rakishly over one shoulder. Pearls adorned one ear and emeralds his throat, while his beard was perfectly trimmed along with his hair. Lynx wasn’t the only one to notice the jacket covered Anatin’s missing hand, but the loss seemed to be less of a burden now.

  ‘Ulfer’s ragged arse-beard, just look at the state of you all,’ Anatin began, casting his gaze over five suits of mercenaries. ‘Three weeks of idleness and all form o’ martial prowess fades in the sun. Even our employer there, shattered gods – is she wearing a damn dress?’

  All heads turned to the prow where Toil lounged behind the assembled mercenaries of Blood, indeed wearing a sleeveless cotton dress. With deference to her nature, however, close inspection would reveal it was not adorned with flowers, but coiled serpents. With a lazy flick of the wrist she made a gesture that got Anatin roaring with laughter.

  ‘A dress! Oh dear me, how the terrifying have fallen.’ He paused. ‘However, you are the lady with the money, Toil, so I guess you can wear whatever you damn well want. Squeeze yourself into Deern’s old underwear for all you like – I would merely ask Himbel to repeat some of his many lectures on filthy diseases one might pick up in foreign parts.’

  Again Anatin paused, this time for a faint theatrical shudder that saw an empty cup tossed at him.

  ‘Oh yeah, that’s right. We had to burn all your smallthings, didn’t we, Deern? Nonetheless, the lady wears what she likes. The rest o’ you bastards, however … well, we’ve needed some down time to say our prayers and stitch our wounds. I don’t begrudge you that, but the lady pays for quality and I don’t see a lot of it round here.

  ‘Some o’ you are new so here’s a few rules to safeguard how much I’m getting paid. Anyone who’s decided Lynx has the sort of figure all mercs should aspire to, yer wrong – even if our employer does have a weird kink in that direction. None o’ you could argue that the state o’ Varain’s liver is ideal, but I’ve seen the stock tallies. They tell their own story so from now on, the fun’s over.’

  While he was waiting for the chorus of boos and insults to end, Anatin pulled out a cigar and lit it with a match that spat dirty black smoke into the sky.

  ‘Such enthusiasm,’ he purred once the Cards had quietened. ‘Such fire and determination, my boys and girls. That’s the company I assembled, hidden somewhere behind the overweight sots I see. But have no fear, my friends, my mostly trusted comrades and almost entirely loyal troops! I will bring that part of you to the fore – I will reforge you all into the weapon all of Urden shall come to fear. A force of keen and hungry …’

  He stopped and pulled hard on his cigar. ‘Oh sod it. It’s too early and I need a drink so I’ll go with the short version. Those of you who don’t get to give orders, the holiday’s over. It’s time to work. The booze is cut off and you’ll be taking shifts in walking alongside the flathorns until the poison’s sweated out.’

  ‘And the job?’ Estal asked. She was a white-skinned veteran who wore the Diviner of Stars and doubled as the company seer. Her grey hair was tied up on top of her head to reveal jagged scars down one side of her neck overlaid with white tattoos. ‘Some of us were marked by the last job, we could all be hunted because of it. It’s only fair we know what we’re heading into this time.’

  Anatin nodded. ‘Yeah, I get it. This one’s actually as simple as it sounds though. Unless things go to shit and o’ course that’d never happen to us, right?’

  ‘I ain’t trying ta piss on your toes here, Toil,’ Estal said, turning to look at the red-haired woman, ‘but since when are you interested in simple?’

  ‘I like simple,’ Toil said with a smile.

  ‘In yer men, sure, but for your work? We all know now who we’re working for really and no one minds that, but the Mage Islands are a long bloody way. Your war’s to the north so I don’t see what quick job could be worth your time out this way.’

  Toil pushed herself up and moved to the front, kicking a few of those too slow at getting out of her way.

  ‘The job,’ she said at last. ‘Well, it is a simple one, I promise. It does call for a crack company of mercenaries though, so if any of you could recommend one that’d be helpful. No state secrets this time round, just the usual caution. So far as the rest of Urden goes, we’re escorting a party of mages to meet with the guilds then looking to secure work somewhere sunny. Given these tattoos, that’s more’n halfway true.’

  ‘More please,’ Estal said grumpily.

  Toil nodded, acknowledging her tone. ‘The good news, as some of you may quietly agree, is you’ve got a new employer.’

  ‘So why’re you still here?’

  ‘Oh I’ll stick around a while longer. As you can all imagine, I spent many of my formative years dreaming of being a princess. Now I am one, I wouldn’t want to give up this badge.’

  There were more than a few sniggers. The whole company by now knew Toil’s father was the founder of the Red Scarves mercenary company. Most companies had an official home that ranged from a single tavern, in the case of the Cards, to the greater part of a town for larger ones like the five-hundred-strong Scarves. As only daughter to the commander there might have been something regal in Toil’s upbringing, but not very princess-like.

  ‘Your esteemed commander has found himself a contract with the Whitesea Banking Consortium. By happy coincidence the job’s a long way away from any retribution the Knights-Charnel may hope to dish out. And just perhaps, my employer might have an interest in the Consortium’s bright future.’

  ‘Banking? What the fuck use are we to them?’

  ‘High-level banking,’ Toil clarified. ‘We’re not talking a small loan here, we’re talking a mid-level kabat.’

  ‘Kabat?’

  ‘Used to mean a pirate captain in the Mage Islands, now it’s what they call any local figure of power. The politicians and rulers there don’t have many delusions of respectability. They’re folk of business first and foremost but aren’t averse to emulating their pirate ancestors. You’ve heard of the saying that war is politics by other means?’

  Estal folded her arms. ‘Nope.’

  Toil sighed. ‘Well it is a saying, I promise. Anyway, at this level an elite merc company can be called bailiffs by other means.’

  ‘What other means? Most bailiffs I ever met had mage-guns and knives. Some real nasty bastards too.’

  ‘You’re not helping
me make my point here.’

  ‘Wasn’t trying to.’

  ‘Yeah, I noticed.’

  Toil gave Estal an overly broad and cheerful smile. It didn’t quite have the effect of Reft’s golden shark-like grin, but Estal got the message all the same.

  ‘You’ll get final orders once we’re in the Mage Islands and have met with the bank’s local agent but suffice to say, they don’t like lawyers in a pirate haven. The locals don’t respect a contract with the enthusiasm a bank does.’

  ‘So assets haven’t been handed over,’ Anatin broke in. ‘That’s bad for the bank’s reputation and cash flow when they’re already out a huge sum. Between the kabats, mage guilds and trading consortiums, you can’t hire anyone local for the job without getting betrayed and screwed over. Instead we go in, hit hard and bugger off out again. The Consortium present the Court of the Kabats with a done deal and they all remember they’re pirates who don’t give a shit about each other—’

  ‘Fuck it up and fail to get it done clean,’ Toil added, ‘then things get sticky. The other kabats either remember their treat­ies or sense an opportunity.’

  ‘It’s a pirate kingdom,’ Teshen called from the back of the crowd. ‘It’s where I grew up. Might be no more pirate fleets any more than there are kings, but don’t let that fool you. They smell blood in the water as fast as sharks.’

  Toil nodded. ‘And as we all know, there are nastier things in the Callais Sea than sharks, so let’s not screw up, understood?’

  ‘Ever get the feeling you’re wasting your time?’

  Kas raised an eyebrow at Lynx. ‘What? Pulling guard duty when everyone else is on deck and carrying a gun too?’

 

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