Power's Shadow

by Richard Parks

  “I knew my estimation of Callowyn wasn’t misplaced,” Sela said, and Longfeather glared at her.

  “As I was saying, things were not going well. My endeavors were showing a distinct lack of return, so I decided to…borrow, an emerald pendant she was fond of. I planned to ‘recover’ it and play on her gratitude. Only she figured out that I was the one who took it in the first place. To her credit, she never told Boranac. She planned to cut off my extremities and feed my carcass to the sharks without her father’s help. There. That’s the whole sordid story.”

  “Not by half. I’m guessing that Boranac knew more than you’re saying, and that’s the real reason Boranac put a bounty on your head and you tried to pacify him with the gift of Master Solthyr’s sword…which didn’t work.”

  Marta didn’t need the reluctance of Longfeather to meet her gaze to tell her she’d summed that particular ledger correctly. “I suspected as much. Put together, this does not add up to your finest adventure. Are you saying this is why you never mentioned that she was Boranac’s daughter?”

  “I’m saying I was reluctant to speak of her at all.”

  “I’ll accept that,” Marta said. “but now you’re going to do exactly what you didn’t want to do. I want you to tell me everything you know about Callowyn—how she was raised, the extent of her education, everything.”

  “That will take a little time,” Longfeather said.

  “Not a problem,” Marta said, “As neither of us is going anywhere for a while.”

  Ω

  7 The city of the amurs

  “Concentrate too hard on what you think you’re looking for and you’re likely to miss what you’ve already found.” – Black Kath’s Tally Book

  A lookout spotted the towers of Amurlee on their twelfth day at sea. Callowyn grinned as she put her sextant down on her chart table. “Told you.”

  “Impressive,” Marta said. “Where did you learn navigation?”

  “My father taught me. When he realized I was not going hang about his court, he sought to find out where my interests lay. I think he was already looking for ways in which I might prove my usefulness. He’s a practical person, as am I.”

  “So I’ve discovered,” Marta said dryly, and Sela suppressed a smile.

  Callowyn just sighed. “Are you still going on about that? Business aside, was I going to let strangers—and especially a powerful witch—into my father’s domain without warning him?”

  “No, I would have done the same,” Marta said. “I was talking about the reasons Five Isles doesn’t raid Conmyrean waters. You do, however, raid Conmyrean shipping, at opportunity, don’t you?”

  “Not as often as you’d think,” Callowyn said. “They don’t normally use those fat galleons that Borasur-Morushe favors. A lot of their merchant ships are bigger versions of the Blue Moon, almost as fast and about as well armed. Hard to catch, hard to take. The galleons are another matter. One good catch keeps the Blue Moon in profit and supplies for over a year…but all that has to change.”

  Sela asked. “Fine, but how do we make port without getting into a fight?”

  Callowyn shrugged. “Simple enough. We keep our banners out of sight, and without them we don’t look that much different from Conmyrean vessels. Father has a contact in the merchants’ quarter at the docks, and we’re carrying enough trade goods to at least appear to be a normal merchant ship. My First Mate will handle those details, but it’s not a cover we can maintain indefinitely. Sooner or later someone’s going to recognize either the ship or myself. So. How do you plan to set things in motion before that happens?”

  “Get us docked and let me worry about that,” Marta said.

  Callowyn sighed. “Meaning you don’t know.”

  Marta shrugged. “Meaning I don’t know, but then it was never my part of the deal to know. It was and is my part of the deal to find out, so let me worry about that.”

  “Gladly,” Callowyn said, and she went to make arrangements with her First Mate. They soon approached the docks and were properly moored in less time than it takes to tell of it without, so far as Marta could see, bringing much in the way of attention to themselves. Longfeather had long since recovered, so Marta spoke to both the goshawk and the raven and gave them their assignments. Marta and Sela watched them fly off toward the white towers of Amurlee.

  “It’s beautiful,” Sela said. “From here. I wonder what it’s like close up.”

  “Amurlee? It will take me a lifetime to travel as much as my mother did, for that is how long it took her. Yet she often said that, if she had to live in a city, it would be Amurlee. If you had known my mother, you’d understand what a compliment that was.”

  Sela looked thoughtful. “A witch can live pretty much anywhere she chooses, I would think. Yet your mother chose Lythos.”

  “She was born there, but the reason she stayed was that it was one of the westernmost and smallest kingdoms on the mainland, yes. A backwater, in other words, though strong enough to discourage incursions…not that anyone was that interested.”

  “If she was so fond of it, why did she travel so much?” Sela asked.

  Marta sighed. “Because she had to. At a certain point, she began to feel the…well, she called it a summons, and I guess that’s a good an explanation as any, of those who wanted her help. It’s the nature of the Arrow Path—you go where you’re needed. The supplicant can refuse the bargain, but the witch cannot refuse to offer it. I’ve felt that same pull a time or two. If my mother’s experience is any guide, then in time that pull will only get worse.”

  “But that’s not why we’re here in Amurlee.”

  Marta shook her head. “No. The search for the Seven Laws is a summons, too, of sorts. I’ve never heard of any witch who discovered them all, including, as you pointed out earlier, my mother. So most of us will die searching.”

  Soon afterward, Callowyn sent her own agents into the city. The First Mate directed the offloading of their cargo but much of the actual lifting was done by local dockworkers hired for the task. The crew of the Blue Moon itself disembarked in ones and twos and it was clear from their demeanor and chosen routes that they were not all headed to the same place. Callowyn soon rejoined Marta and Sela on deck.

  “The play is underway,” Callowyn said. “My men have their assignments and are carrying them out. If our luck holds, we have maybe a week or so before someone figures out who I am…or perhaps less. I’m told that Duke Okandis is in town.”

  “Let me guess,” Sela said. “Borasur-Morushe?”

  “Yes, and that’s bad enough. But his dukedom includes a large stretch of the coast, including the port town of Balanar. It was the old capitol of Borasur before the union. Sometimes I think Okandis ignores the fact that he’s not king.”

  “So you’re saying that this Okandis has a personal grudge?”

  Callowyn shrugged. “More against my father, really, but if I fell into the good duke’s clutches it would amount to the same thing.”

  “Your father does realize, does he not, that even if we succeed in opening negotiations there will likely be reparations involved? I do have certain gifts, yes, but none add up to a miracle. It will take all kinds of persuasion for the parties to agree to normal relations even assuming I can bring them to the table.”

  “Of course, as long as ‘my bones rotting in a cage’ doesn’t fall into that category. Otherwise, that’s just business, and frankly, I think accommodation with Borasur-Morushe is possible since the current state of relations is to no one’s advantage, except for Duke Okandis. I am certain it was one of his personal galleons chasing us so persistently on the way here.”

  “Then the good duke represents an obstacle?” Marta asked.

  “Not the only one,” Callowyn replied, “but yes, definitely. He will not be interested in accommodation and he has the ear of the king. Do you know a competent assassin?”

  “Perhaps it will not come to that, but I suppose events will determine our course soon enough. Now then—I�
�m awaiting the return of one of my servants, and then Sela and I will need to disembark for a few hours. I think you’ll agree that it’s best for you to stay out of sight for now.”

  “I couldn’t agree more, though it’s frustrating to have to stay on the ship. I’d never actually been to Amurlee before.”

  “Whether matters work out well or ill, you’ll likely get the chance later,” Marta said.

  “Is she always this cheerful?” Callowyn asked Sela.

  “Always,” Sela said.

  Marta ignored that, as her attention had turned to the black speck in the sky that soon resolved itself into a raven. Bonetapper landed on the railing and perched there, rocking slowly as the moored ship rose and fell with a gentle swell.

  “He’s expecting you,” was all Bonetapper said.

  “Good. Sela, we’d best be going.”

  “What shall I do now?” Bonetapper asked.

  “Rest while you can. Callowyn, would you please feed him?” she turned to the raven. “Or did you dine already?”

  “Nothing,” the raven said. “I’m starving.”

  Callowyn sighed. “I won’t ask who you’re meeting with…yet. As for this one—“ She nodded at Bonetapper. “Judging from the last week or so I know he’s not terribly picky. I’m sure I can find something. Maybe a dead fish?”

  “Really?” Bonetapper asked, not in the least insulted. His black eyes were shining.

  “Do the best you can for him,” Marta said. “He’s earned his keep for once.”

  “Once, she says….” muttered the raven.

  Marta pretended not to hear him and she and Sela walked down the gangplank to the dock. As they moved away from the waterfront, Marta found herself concentrating almost as much on their surroundings as the coming meeting. The streets were busy but in good order and, compared to every other town Marta had ever seen, fairly clean. The citizens of Amurlee for the most part appeared intent on their own affairs, and no one seemed to be taking any special notice of them, which for a seaport accustomed to foreigners coming and going, was only what Marta expected. For a time Marta let herself dwell on the novelty of her surroundings and Sela appeared to be doing the same, but after a little while she spoke up.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen this side of you,” she said.

  Marta frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Sela waved an arm at the city around them. “This. If I didn’t know who you were, I’d think you were some country girl gawking at her first sight of a city.”

  Marta shrugged. “No more than you were. Remember, this is my first time here as well, and Amurlee is no ordinary city.”

  Sela made no argument there. Legend had it that the original inhabitants of Amurlee weren’t human beings at all, but rather sea creatures called amurs who were being hunted to extinction by humans to gain their marvelously delicate, pearlescent shells. So, in order to save them, the remaining amurs were transformed into the likeness of humans by a goddess of the sea. With equal parts gratitude and deep mourning for the lives under the sea that they had lost, the former amurs built their city to echo the design of shells, with spiraling white towers of marble that glinted opalescent in the sun like pearls.

  “Do you think the stories of Amurlee’s founding are true?” Sela asked.

  “Almost certainly not.”

  Sela smiled. “You said ‘almost.’”

  “Only because to be certain means I would need to have been there. I wasn’t. There is, however an aspect of this city’s history I would like to explore while I’m here.”

  “What’s that?”

  “There’s a tradition that there was a type of magic imbued into the landscape itself, and certain mages were adept at tapping it. This was supposed to be true at several locations throughout the kingdoms, but it was rumored to be especially strong here.”

  Sela frowned. “I’ve heard those stories too. Maybe they have about as much truth to them as the city’s founding…whatever that may imply.”

  “Perhaps we’ll find out while we’re here.”

  Marta knew that the Arrow Path was not the only magical tradition in the Seven Kingdoms—perhaps now to be eight?—and the thought of taking this opportunity to research what was known of earlier systems had occurred to her before she arrived. Even so, she was fairly confident that the stories of the origin of Amurlee’s first inhabitants were nonsense. Yet, whatever had motivated the earliest builders of the city, successive generations had honored their esthetic until it was a firm tradition--there was hardly a straight edge or un-arched doorway to be seen anywhere. Even the streets were laid out on gentle curves, more like the wings of a seabird than the spokes of a wheel, all leading to the palace of the King of Conmyre at the hub of the city.

  This was the direction Marta and Sela were headed as they moved deeper into the city. “Are we going to the palace?” Sela asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I thought so. Perhaps Callowyn didn’t want to ask, but I do—who are we going to see?”

  “My mother had supplicants in all of the Seven Kingdoms. We’re going to see one such.”

  “All? Even Wylandia?”

  Sela’s mention of the northernmost kingdom on the mainland, well off the normal routes of travel, did not even make Marta blink.

  “All,” she repeated with emphasis. “While most supplicants are able, in some form or another, to discharge their debts when incurred, not all can—witness Bonetapper and Longerfeather. One such who still owes debt service to me now that my mother has gone was and remains an officer of King Mallan’s court here in Conmyre. A rather substantial debt, as these things go. I hope he won’t prove difficult.”

  “And if he does?”

  “You saw what I did to Longfeather when he refused to cooperate.”

  Sela grinned. “I saw what you did to him when he first agreed to your bargain. I don’t think his cooperation was requested.”

  Marta just shrugged. “I have the right—and the obligation—to decide how the servant should best serve. Besides, Longfeather in his human form is even more infuriating. I’m not sure you could have resisted the urge to kill him.”

  “Neither am I,” Sela said, and there was nothing in her demeanor that suggested she was joking.

  “Which, as you would have inherited his debt, would have been very bad for you. Regardless, my main concern now is that what I will ask of this man may be things he feels would be unwise to deliver. In which case I must persuade him that it would be more unwise to do otherwise. I do hope it doesn’t come to that.”

  “For his sake, whoever he is, I share that sentiment…oh, by the way…you do know we’re being followed, yes?”

  “Yes,” Marta sighed. “But for the life of me I can’t imagine why.”

  “Two women, unescorted?”

  “This isn’t some border town, Sela. Amurlee is known for keeping good order and how many members of the city guard at station or patrol have we passed?”

  “Several. And it is broad daylight,” Sela said. “None of which changes the fact. Well, you do draw attention. I’ve mentioned that before.”

  “Attention is one thing. Stalking is another. It is curious,” Marta said. “I’ll have to think about it.”

  §

  “You know, for a former thief you’re not that good at skulking,” Dena said. “I think she might have seen you.”

  Kel shook his head. “I sincerely doubt that. I once slipped into a mansion where the master and all his retainers were reducing the place to shambles searching for his wife’s lover, gained my desire, and left again without being seen.”

  Dena frowned “What were you after?”

  “The wife’s bedchamber, of course. After all, I was the one they were looking for. I was quite the lad in my younger days.”

  “Now older but not a whit wiser. Take foolish risks on your own behalf, Kel, not mine. I need to know where Marta is going.”

  “So why don’t you turn me into a gull or some other
bird again? I could watch them from the air.”

  “Until they go inside. And a rat or a snake is more suitable for you but likely to either become a cat’s dinner or be crushed under the wheels of a cart in this town. You’ve always claimed to be a proper thief, and this task requires one. Prove it.”

  “With all due respect, Mistress, it would be much easier without you following me. As you say, my skills are required here, not yours. Again, with respect, but what I say is simple truth.”

  Dena sighed. “Oh, very well. I’ll want a full report when you return. Just keep in mind, if you’re caught, Amurlean justice will be the least of your worries.”

  “Understood,” Kel said cheerfully.

  Once the witch was out of sight, Kel quickly got back to business, and it was only a matter of a few minutes before he was able to get back on the two women’s trail. Not that that the old thief attributed this to his considerable—but admittedly somewhat rusty—skills, but rather that the witch called Marta and her companion were making absolutely no effort to elude anyone. All he’d needed to do to find them again was to go in the direction they had been walking when he had last seen them. Not drawing the attention of the city guards was a more difficult matter, but so far he had managed.

  The most curious thing about the matter, in Kel’s opinion was, despite what he’d said to Dena, he felt that it was, in fact, very likely that one or both of his marks knew they were being followed, and did not appear to care in the least.

  Perhaps she’s used to it.

  At his age and in his current situation, such matters were of no more than theoretical interest to him, but he had to admit that the one called Marta was a striking figure, with her almost violently red hair and the fact that she bore herself like a queen. She reminded Kel of Dena in that regard, though what he had seen of her demeanor suggested that she was, perhaps, a bit less hot-tempered than Dena. As for Marta’s companion, she was only less noticeable by comparison, and that because she wasn’t wearing her armor. Kel considered it likely that they drew interest wherever they went, and Amurlee would be no exception. Kel, observing the pair from a distance, was well-positioned to notice the glances and whispering that occurred in the townsfolk as Mart and Sela passed by.