Power's Shadow

by Richard Parks

  “I take it you have sent delegations already?” Marta asked.

  Boranac sighed. “Twice. Unfortunately, the captains of both ships were identified as pirates—because they were—and arrested and executed. Needless to say, the diplomatic missions were not a success.”

  “What are you going to ask me to do, Your Majesty?”

  “I want you to escort my representative to the port of Amurlee in Conmyre and secure for her an audience with King Elion. I do not demand that you ensure the mission’s successful conclusion, rather I merely ask that you make success possible. Now, then, Lady Marta—what is your price?”

  The request had been made. Marta closed her eyes, and for a moment she was somewhere very far away from the Five Isles, and King Boranac’s council chamber, and all the kingdoms in the world. As always, she had barely a glimpse of where she was, what it was like, but she did know who was there. In another moment she blinked and returned to herself. She shivered.

  “Well?” Boranac asked.

  “The price the Arrow Path demands is—the sword called ‘Sunset.’ And frankly, Your Majesty, I am as surprised as you are.”

  Boranac’s face was unreadable. “And if I do not agree?”

  “Then there is no bargain. You keep your sword. You keep us, if you so choose, though I rather doubt you’d enjoy the trade. And you remain a pirate forever.”

  He smiled then. “Oh, Lady Marta…I will always be a pirate, just as every mainland king is, admitted or not. But I still wish to be an honest one among them. I agree—reluctantly—to your terms.”

  §

  Sela, wisely, had kept silent for the most part during the audience with Boranac, but the restraints were gone by the time they were escorted back to their quarters.

  “Did he really believe you?”

  “Of course he believed me. It was the truth.” Marta felt weary beyond belief—the magic that created a binding contract tended to have that effect on her, but she still found herself wandering around the room settling nowhere, though the chairs and beds did beckon. “The question is,” she said finally, “why was it the truth?”

  “I don’t understand,” Sela said.

  “As I have pointed out before—the Arrow Path and, ultimately, Amaet, decide the price of any contract—I have no say in the matter. None. Yet the sword is the price.”

  “You must admit that it’s a little convenient,” Sela said.

  “Of course it is, and that worries me. I know why I want your father’s swords. But why does Amaet want me to have them? I cannot answer that.”

  “That being the case…maybe she doesn’t want you to have all of them. Maybe she just wants you to have Sunset.”

  Marta idly chewed a fingernail. “Point taken, though then ‘why Sunset’ is a question all by itself. I still believe that what involves one sword, involves all of them. Unless it’s merely coincidence that your father only made seven named swords. And I am a firm disbeliever in coincidence.”

  Sela considered. “Perhaps she simply wants you to discover the Fifth Law, whatever it is.”

  “There would be a large ‘why’ attached to that as well. Amaet created the Arrow Path, but she’s not known for setting up signposts along the way. My mother once told me that there was a reason for everything Amaet did, no matter how incomprehensible on its face. If I want to stay ahead of her, it would be a good idea to understand that reason.”

  Sela apparently had no answer for that, nor did Marta expect one. She went to the window and whistled. Bonetapper fluttered down to perch on the sill.

  “Anything?” Marta asked.

  “There’s something of a stir going on about the courtyard. Messengers coming and going. Nothing that appears to be a threat. The soldiers who brought us in appear to have returned to their stations along the coast. No signs of a gallows or block being prepared.”

  “Thank you for that,” Marta said dryly. “Anything else?”

  “The Blue Moon is docked in the harbor, but I haven’t seen its captain. Unfinished business, perhaps?”

  “If Callowyn is here, see if you can find her,” Marta said, and Bonetapper flew away.

  “I’d like to finish her business,” Sela growled, when the raven was gone.

  Marta shook her head. “Callowyn did us a favor. I know she didn’t mean to, but I expected her to behave as she did. Given her occupation and the situation presented, you shouldn’t have expected anything different.”

  Sela stretched, and yawned. “I know. I just want someone to be mad at.”

  “If anyone, you should be mad at me,” Marta said, and Sela grinned.

  “For doing what I expected you to do? That is, what serves your purpose? I’ve already learned that lesson. As I’ve said before, I am and will remain grateful to you, and right now our interests are the same. I think we both understand that this will not always be the case.”

  Marta smiled. “Fair enough.”

  There was a hoarse cough at the window, where Bonetapper had reappeared. “Found her,” he said.

  “So soon? Where?” Marta asked.

  “Unless I am badly mistaken—outside in the corridor, about to knock on your door.”

  As if on cue, there was a knock at their chamber door. Marta glanced at Bonetapper, who knew a hint when he saw one and flew away.

  “Captain Callowyn,” Marta called out. “Please come in.”

  The door opened and Callowyn stood there, looking a little sheepish. It was not an expression Marta had come to associate with the woman.

  “First, I would like to apologize to you,” she said.

  “Which you don’t mean in the least,” Marta said. She noticed the red flush that appeared at Callowyn’s throat, and spoke again before it could creep any higher, “By which I only mean that it was business, and I do not believe you bore us any ill will.”

  Callowyn smiled a slightly lop-sided smile. “That part is certainly true, but I’m afraid it’s not the whole story. Maybe someday I’ll be able to tell you the rest.”

  “But not today?”

  “No, not today. We have other business to discuss now. I understand that you’ve agreed to…assist, King Boranac’s diplomatic mission to Conmyre?”

  “For a fee, but yes, that is correct.”

  “I will be leading that delegation, so we will be traveling aboard the Blue Moon.”

  “Wonderful,” Sela said, and her lack of enthusiasm was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

  “Indeed,” Marta said. “It is a fine ship.”

  “The best,” Callowyn said.

  “And yet,” Sela said, “My understanding is that Conmyre hanged the last pirate that King Boranac sent to them.”

  Callowyn shrugged. “I must trust Lady Marta to make certain that doesn’t happen. Besides, I am not as much the pirate as you think me. I enforce King Boranac’s edicts for the waters around the Five Isles, but I don’t go looking for trouble. And I’ve never taken a ship that sailed under Conmyre’s flag.”

  “Possibly a distinction without a difference,” Marta said. “but I understand my responsibilities under the contract, as I trust your father does.”

  “My father’s word is—“ Callowyn stopped, looking pale.

  “I think ‘today’ is actually the day to tell this part of the story,” Marta said. “We need to know precisely what we are getting ourselves into here, Captain. I do think you owe us that much.”

  “King Boranac…?” Sela couldn’t finish.

  “Yes. Captain--or perhaps I should say Princess, Callowyn is his daughter.”

  “How did you know?” Callowyn asked.

  “Let’s just say my instincts were accurate, though I wasn’t entirely certain until now.”

  Callowyn scowled. “You tricked me!”

  “Just a little. I understand why you didn’t want us to know, but as I said, I had no wish to go into this mission with blinders on. You may, of course, inform His Majesty that we know your secret.”

  “Why wouldn’t
she want us to know?” Sela asked. “What does it…oh.”

  Marta smiled. “Exactly. A pirate is one thing, but what if we were to hand over King Boranac’s own daughter to the authorities in Conmyre? What do you imagine the rewards would be?”

  “Substantial,” muttered Callowyn.

  “And entirely beside the point, Highness. Your father, I trust, understands the full implications of entering a binding contract with a witch such as myself. I must honor our agreement to the letter or the contract is not binding, and I will do so to the absolute best of my ability. He would be a damn fool if he didn’t do the same…and I know your father is no fool.”

  “He is not. Just…don’t call me that. I am Captain Callowyn. That is all.”

  “As you wish, Captain. One thing, though—do you have anything else to wear?”

  Callowyn glanced down at her sailor’s togs. “Why? What’s wrong with this?”

  “For its purpose? Nothing at all. But when we arrive in Amurlee, it may be best for all concerned if you looked a little less…pirate-like. A suggestion, nothing more.”

  Callowyn looked unhappy. “Since you put it that way…I’ll see what I can do.”

  When Callowyn was gone, Sela turned to Marta. “How did you know?”

  “As I said, I didn’t know. At least not for certain. But when I first met her, there was something about Callowyn that spoke of the Fourth Law, concerning a thing’s nature versus its appearance. Callowyn’s appearance was not an illusion, so ‘nature’ had to be the relevant bit. I don’t even remember noting it at the time, but I realized, just now when I saw her again, that she bore some resemblance to Boranac. Mostly in the eyes. It occurred to me that what I was seeing was recreated nature, not transformed. We are all a recreation of our parents, but apparently Callowyn’s trigger of my awareness of the Fourth Law meant that there was something about her that I needed to understand. That’s the way the Arrow Path works.”

  “So you set a verbal trap and she walked into it.”

  “More or less--yes.”

  “Will Boranac still send her with us, do you think?”

  “I think he will. In fact, I am counting on it.”

  Ω

  6 Marta’s shadow

  “One must always plan, but one must also understand that, chances are, your plan will fail. It is the act of learning why your plan failed that will show you the way to your true desire.” – Black Kath’s Tally Book

  Where is she?

  Dena had Kel patrolling in the form of a seagull, but so far he had nothing to report. She’d had him follow the Blue Moon for a while but, thanks to Marta’s sodding goshawk, he had been forced to keep his distance, and had finally lost sight of the ship. Considering the direction they traveled, it seemed that Marta and company had booked passage to the Five Isles, which seemed a bit far-fetched on the face of it. But then, Dena well knew that a witch on the trail of a Law would follow wherever that trail led. If the Fifth Law was indeed somewhere on the Five Isles, Dena knew she would risk even that. Yet she felt nothing, no pull or even the shadow of one. To the best of her understanding, the Fifth Law was not to be found in Boranac’s domain.

  So why would Marta risk going there? It made no sense!

  Finally the seagull that once was a thief named Kell glided down to land on a nearby rock.

  “Well?” Dena asked.

  “Nothing,” he said, and the words came out like little shrieks. “No sign of Marta or the Blue Moon…no ships at all, in fact, inside of a day’s sail from here.”

  Dena scowled. “Rest. Tomorrow you’re going to fly to the Five Isles.”

  “Why there?”

  “Because no one sails so close to Boranac’s domain if they don’t plan to visit it. I do not know why Marta would choose to go there, but I need to know for certain where she is before I decide what to do.”

  “Fine, but even as a gull it will take a day or more, and I’ll have to stop and rest on the water. Likely a shark will come along and eat me,” he grumbled.

  “Then the shark will owe me your debt. Too bad for the shark.”

  Dena left him there on the beach. First because he could fend for himself tonight, and second because she wouldn’t have to listen to him complain. The sun was close to setting, and she made her way off the beach and up into the town, where he room at the inn was waiting for her.

  Later that night Dena dreamed of someone she had not thought of in some time. He came into her dream and brought her pain with him, in the shape of a sixteen year old boy with black eyes and the fiercest smile she had ever seen. Perhaps it was no more than nostalgia, but she let him kiss her, and she kissed him back willingly enough, but after a few moments she pushed him away.

  “This isn’t real, and I won’t trick myself into thinking otherwise. Even if I want to.”

  “Dena, girl, I don’t understand,” he said. He looked hurt. She remembered that look.

  “If you were real, you would,” she said. “Just as I do.”

  In that instant, a new voice filled Dena’s mind, and it was not her own.

  Is that discipline, I wonder? I think rather it is more the result of a bad disposition. Have you been eating sour apples, Dena?

  Dena blinked. “Amaet? Where are you?”

  Here and there. But if you want to see me….

  Amaet appeared as if she had been there the whole time. She was doing her “mirror-image” manifestation, and she looked exactly like Dena, which Dena found terribly disconcerting. She had once been somewhat surprised that Amaet’s intrusion didn’t end the dream immediately, but in time she had learned that dreams were one of Amaet’s preferred methods of communicating, and that Dena’s dream belonged to Amaet now and not to her at all. The dream would end when Amaet was done with it, not before. Of all the reasons Dena had to hate the Power called Amaet, this was one of the worst, and it never failed to make her angry. Dena was also convinced that Amaet knew this and either didn’t care or enjoyed it. Dena was never certain as to which of those choices it might be.

  “How may I be of service?” Dena asked.

  Amaet didn’t answer right way. She merely walked around the now frozen in place image of the young man, looking it up and down with a critical gaze. “Not a bad-looking specimen,” she finally said. “What was his name?”

  “Anbos,” Dena said.

  “So why is he here? Didn’t you, yourself, send him away?”

  “I did. I do not know why he is here now.”

  “Perhaps…regret?”

  Dena’s expression didn’t change by a flicker. “Anbos offered me a future, that’s true, but he could not offer me the future I wanted. I made my choice.”

  Dena’s own image smiled back at her. “That’s right, isn’t it? You weren’t born into the Arrow Path like Marta was—you chose it. I must say, your progress has been impressive, Dena. You’ve acquired the Fourth Law already, and you feel the Fifth Law is within your grasp now. Well done. Yet there is something I do not understand, and I want you to explain it to me. In return, I might be persuaded to forgive a small part of your debt…no, I do not think I will do that. Yet fair trade is called for. Instead, I will tell you something that you very much need to know.”

  Dena had long since learned that Amaet never did anything that wasn’t to her own advantage, primarily. She did not resent this fact—it was something of Amaet’s character that Dena found almost admirable, or at least understandable. It made dealing with her just slightly easier. “What may I clarify for you, Power?”

  “You have been mirroring the movements of Marta, Black Kath’s Daughter, for some time. I would like to know why.”

  “I stumbled upon Marta’s trail by accident, in my search for the Fifth Law. I discovered that, when I followed her, even for a short time, the pull of the Fifth Law became stronger. I have come to the conclusion that she is more sensitive to that trail than I am. She has some advantage, some hint that I do not as yet possess. I feel that my path to the Fifth Law runs a
long the one chosen by Marta.”

  “Don’t you mean to say that it runs through Marta?”

  Dena reddened slightly, but her tone was defiant. “If necessary—yes.”

  Amaet nodded. “Understand, I make no judgment on this. I merely find it…interesting, that this would be the conclusion you would reach.”

  “That does sound like a judgment,” Dena said.

  “I understand the impulse,” Amaet said. “The way is hard. One would naturally want to use every perceived advantage. Yet perception is a tricky thing.”

  “You’re implying something, but I know better than to rise to the bait. Have I answered your question?” Dena asked.

  “Admirably. So well, in fact, that I’m going to tell you two things you need to know, and not because I’m feeling generous. I seldom am. The first concerns Anbos, your handsome young farmer—you chose not to be a farmer’s wife, and that was your right. But do not deceive yourself into thinking you chose one future over another. No mortal knows their future, or the path that will lead to one over another. You rejected Anbos, and that was simply a pathway that closed, but only one of many. You know where you want to go, what you want to be, but you do not know how to get there, no matter what you may think. Your future is to be determined, not chosen.”

  “Are you saying I might have become a powerful sorceress by marrying a farmer?”

  Amaet smiled. Dena had learned to dread that smile. “I’m saying that you simply do not know, so stop pretending that you do. And remember, I promised to tell you something you needed to know. I never said you were going to agree with me.”

  Dena took a slow breath. “And the second?”