The Silent Blade

by P. S. Power

  Instead, they’d tried to kill him, using vast magical powers.

  Blinking, he sighed and then nodded to himself.

  “Let’s see what Ganges has to say about this?” After all, Hoatha and Martya either knew about it all, being part of it, or they would have ideas about how to handle the whole thing.

  Possibly not, but they were both old and well versed in intrigue as well as familiar with the area things were taking place in, living not too far away, in the Red Desert.

  He was careful, but he sent both words and images, to both of them.

  For a while there was no response at all. A very long while.

  Chapter twenty-one

  It was three full days after the attack had taken place before Anders was actually contacted by anyone in his group. The timing felt off to him, but he didn’t let himself worry too much. Keeping him, one of the two prime targets, away from the others there made a certain amount of sense to him, to be honest. No one else was thinking that way, it seemed.

  Sweyn showed up at his door, with Eltha, Sondra and Erold in tow, and fairly tackled him into a hug.

  “There you are! We were worried that you were angry with us, for letting you be attacked like that in Modroc. It... Father said he spoke to you, the other day and that you seemed fine? You didn’t rail at him or suggest he offer lives in payment?”

  The interesting portion was that the girl, who looked no more ready to have a child now than she had several days before, though there was a very real bump showing, low on her belly, seemed to think that was as serious question. Then, so far in his communications, everyone had acted as if it was. Even to the point of being surprised when Anders wasn’t blaming Sula Darian for the attempt, or Sulat Mondeth for a cult that existed in his land having been involved.

  For one thing, Anders wasn’t certain yet that it truly was that group.

  The other factor was different, of course. He hugged Sweyn though, enjoying it a bit more than was proper, but not enough to shame himself in public or force Prince Erold to hit him. Then he gestured everyone into the room. The shared space, though the men there waved and smiled easily enough, being known to everyone who came. They were friends, even.

  “Of course not. As far as I can tell so far, none of the rulers of any land seem to be involved in this.”

  That got a shocked look, from Eltha.

  “But, a Princess of Barquea tried to murder you. Us. All of us, but I think my name was mentioned directly?”

  That was true, of course.

  “Right. So far, and this could change... Here, everyone, find a place to sit. Share bed space with people?” He grinned, and rolled his eyes. “That sounds a bit naughty, doesn’t it? Still, we don’t have any chairs in here, so, sit where you can?”

  Then he went on, expressing his thoughts on the matter.

  “We seem to have several different factors involved here. Like I mentioned, all of this might change, as we learn more. The Blades of the Goddess seem to be after you Eltha. Prince Naveed as well. There also seems to be a group of people in the line of succession there in Barquea who are working loosely with the Blades, who are focused on Prince Naveed and myself. So far. Clearly, if they’re after us, then they’re either working with Nedros and Sendra, or they’re targets as well.” He shrugged.

  “I, um, should probably get with both of them and anyone else near the top of the line as well, given that. If Liasa didn’t lie to me, then we can’t trust our ability to read anyone’s intent in their thoughts. They have magics to proof themselves against that. It works well enough that Liasa stood in front of me, with me reading her thoughts and I couldn’t tell she was herself. That... well, if they can do that, then wizardry isn’t reliable on that topic, for the time being.”

  Prince Erold squinted, and sat on the edge of Geralt’s bed. The other man was on it too, and nodded, but didn’t say anything about the liberty.

  “I see. So, the person mainly behind the attack on you is likely in the top ten of those in line for the throne of Barquea? It would be insane to try and murder more than a few people, since that would start a civil war, instead of a transfer of power as desired. Do we have any way to find who it is?”

  Anders nodded.

  “We can remove some of them from the list, instantly. I’m not a serious contender for that, and have mentioned that to Naveed, Nedros and Aisla. The Sula as well. If I were ever selected, then for the good of Barquea, I would have to decline the honor. I’m simply not a man of that land and wouldn’t be the best to govern or rule there. So, that should clear me, I hope?” He grinned, but too many people in the room seemed to agree it was a serious point.

  He counted the others out.

  “Naveed... well, if he was behind it, worried that I was coming for his place, even if that isn’t happening, then having himself stabbed a hundred times kind of means we should probably promote him for the job anyway. I can’t imagine allowing that to happen on purpose. More to the point, it’s too much for him to bother with. He already has the top spot. Holding that doesn’t require this kind of action.”

  Again, most of the room nodded, so he continued.

  “Sendra... I’ve met her three times and we worked together well enough? She’s not exactly friendly, but she isn’t hateful, from what little I’ve noticed, either. It could be her behind it all. She lives away though and has military sensibilities. Nedros is much the same. Also... I don’t think he actually wants to be the Sula or even the heir. That’s a guess. Aisla is number four on the list.”

  Prince Erold waved at him on that one.

  “She’s in Istlan and has always said that she isn’t in serious consideration, due to that. She can’t take Alpert to Barquea and a big portion of her advancement comes from her work there, so it probably isn’t her. Also, I know her and she isn’t that sort of person.”

  Anders nodded.

  “Agreed. Jasmin is in the ninth place and I’m in the tenth. It could be number eleven, but that seems like a lot of bodies to climb over. I’m not certain who holds the fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth places, to be honest. Really, out of all of this, the most likely person would be me, wouldn’t it?”

  Sweyn and Erold both nodded, Sondra made a shrewd face and Eltha shook her head.

  “How would that work?”

  “On the last listing, I was slated to be in the second position. Depak asked Darian to set me down the list, so that I wouldn’t be that close to the top position. I’d thought it was about keeping me humble at the time, or possibly in acknowledgment that I wouldn’t be taking the position. Now I wonder if it had been to prevent people from trying to kill me? The thing is, a lot of people have mentioned to me that some of the things I’ve been doing might still make me seem a serious contender that way. The healing work and even taking on Lassa as a project, regardless of that failing, in the end. I also aided Naveed, when he was injured. I don’t know that would change my placement, but...”

  Sondra, a woman of Modroc, gave him a hooded expression. The normally vapid seeming, though charming and kind, woman dropped her act, for a moment. It showed on her face, and in her words, as she spoke.

  “The servants at the palace of Sula Darian noticed that and spoke of it, often. Some were shocked that you weren’t named the Heir, since Naveed had offered to step aside for you. A few spoke about the works you were doing, as well. Even that you didn’t make a big thing about it being done by Prince Anders. Calling yourself Cart Boy, instead? Also, when the Sula spoke of you losing your place, to save Prince Lassa that first time, you accepted it. Naveed himself went to the Sula and explained that you didn’t know it was a common form of teasing there. Everyone figured that meant you’d shot up the list, suddenly. It’s probably why they were after you. In the next list your name will probably be at the top.”

  Anders didn’t pretend to be shocked that she understood all of that. He also didn’t doubt her sources. They were probably very good ones, that kind of thing being her job.


  “I gathered as much, myself. Except that it won’t be happening that way. I’d have myself taken from the list, before displacing Naveed. So, that leaves us with two problems, still.”

  Erold nodded, and Sweyn made a face, but didn’t speak. No one did, for a moment. Finally Conrath, sitting across the room, rubbed at his beard.

  “That cult and the royals of Barquea who want you and possibly that Naveed and those others to die?”

  Anders smiled, grimly.

  “Exactly. Clearly, that some of them are princes and princesses is the bigger issue. Possibly, at least.”

  Sweyn let her head tilt from side to side.

  “How so? I mean, there are hundreds of cult members. We think so at least. They’re masters of oracles as well, having Devica who work with them and tell them of the future. When we send troops, they’re always already gone from their holds and keeps.”

  Understanding that, he nodded.

  “I’ll find them and remove them from the playing field. I’ll have to work out how to hide from their friends. That or act faster than they can move. Then I’ll need to go to Barquea again and probably make the Sula hate me, by showing how many of his family are evil. Still, we need to protect the others there, even if it costs me my new family.”

  For some reason everyone sobered then and seemed dark, as if that, him losing out on a title, was the worst portion of it. Not him saying bluntly that he intended to murder people for having joined the wrong group. They were assassins, so it was probably that which caused them not to be too concerned that way.

  Sweyn, a little laboriously, stood up then.

  “We need to speak to my father, then, before we take action. This way, Anders. Everyone going after the cult of the Death Goddess, as well.”

  Anders rose, expecting to be heading out alone. Eltha stood up too, as did Erold. The boy smiled.

  “I think I can do that hiding thing well enough now. Holding it for weeks will be hard, but I’ll work out how to make that happen.”

  Shrugging, Conrath got up as well.

  “I’m no fighter, but I can ride a horse and help navigate the land in this part of the world. I know it as well as anyone.”

  Anders smiled, hoping that offer didn’t mean the man was a member of that particular cult. He likely wasn’t, of course. Anders was still alive, after all. Then, the cult wasn’t after him, particularly. Eltha would be the one in danger, if that was the case. She was also alive, so it probably wasn’t the case. The man had been near her for a full year, in a different land, if that had been the case.

  They were led, at a good walking pace, across the large structure. They were in the above ground portion, but it seemed to have been carved from a mountain. The whole of the thing, which was vast inside. The construction was similar to what he’d noticed in Ferlith, which probably meant that the Devica had constructed the whole thing, probably centuries before.

  A long while later they were taken through a wooden door, a rather plain one, which had a Sulat on the other side. He was speaking to a room full of men and women, sitting on pillows, on the floor, or lounging on low, rather long, platforms. Those had soft looking pillows as well. There was a riot of bright colors to the space.

  Everyone looked at them, when they came in, with the Sulat smiling.

  “Sweyn! Prince Erold... Great One!” The man stood up, and passed out hugs. Erold got one of those, which made sense, being family to the man, as he was. Sondra got one as well, as did Eltha. Anders was patted on the arm.

  “Prince Anders. Are you well?”

  He nodded.

  “Much recovered. We have some thoughts, about minor happenings, it might not be best to bother these others with our concerns, of course.” He felt awkward, suddenly, but Sweyn made a face at him.

  “No, this is the right group. Anders is planning to remove the Blades of the Goddess from the world. He can find them and reach them before they flee again. Do we have anything about where they might be, at the moment?”

  One of the men sitting on a yellow pillow, near the back of the room, spoke. He was dressed like a guard, in purple and looked familiar, having been in charge of that sort after the light weapon had been used in Billeth.

  “We have some indications that they’re in the mountains, to the south, in the cave system there. Near the Sea of Green. We haven’t acted on that news, since it seems futile. How do you intend to approach them?” The man sounded doubtful.

  Anders simply muttered a few words, cleared his mind totally, and vanished. Truly, becoming too boring to notice. Seeing that had first Erold and then Eltha doing the same thing. Sweyn rolled her eyes.

  “Braggarts.” Her lips twisted into a grin. “They can hold this for some time and it will hide them from the minds of men and even being seen through time. Then... Well, Anders Brolly might well take a few hundred men and women without much struggle.”

  Sounding a bit skeptical still, the man in the purple head wrap and matching outfit scoffed.

  “One boy is going to take on an army of assassins? By himself?”

  Erold and then Eltha both became visible then, so Anders did that as well, a short time later. Prince Erold smiled at the man on the yellow pillow.

  “Not alone. So far, they seem best at using a knife to the back. In head to head combat they might not fair that well. It won’t serve to get lazy or underestimate them, but I like our chances.”

  Mondeth waved at the gray bearded fellow behind them.

  “Conrath is going as well? How will a craftsman aid you?”

  The man nodded at the words, as if agreeing.

  “I plan to help them on their journey, only, Sulat. I traveled the land here muchly, in my youth. I was a traveling merchant for some decades.”

  Instead of saying no, there was a nod from the old ruler.

  “Very well. Is this... I can send a real force with you, if you wish? Can you hide a hundred men?”

  Erold shook his head, and Eltha looked annoyed at the question. Anders simply thought for a moment.

  “If they’re close to us and we plan carefully first? That could be possible. I probably can’t do that for weeks, but... I’d like to ask some of the Devica about this, first?”

  The Sulat shook his head.

  “That’s too close to war. They won’t aid us in that, without great work from the Shaman. Even then, they tend to work best in support areas.”

  Anders thought he understood that. The reasoning behind it, as well.

  “I want advice, only. Perhaps after the entertainment I’ve been offering them? I need to rest for some days first, anyway, and rebuild myself, before going on a mission such as this.”

  The old man looked at each of them, then nodded.

  “I understand. You have my blessing, if you needed that? We should speak at some length, if you live through this, Prince Anders? Or... before you travel, so you may contact me directly?”

  He agreed with that, if the man was willing.

  “Come to the show, later? I need to practice first, but we should see if anyone can show up for that tonight?”

  The man grinned. Then gestured at Sweyn.

  “Daughter, the large hall for that?” It was clearly an order, without being given as one at all.

  Then, Sweyn didn’t stomp her feet or claim that leading Anders to that spot was somehow beneath her. Princesses could run in both directions, but Anders had never noticed Princess Sweyn being anything other than charming and at worst, a bit quiet. More so when she’d been in Istlan, but returning home hadn’t stripped her of dignity, only made her seem more open and expansive.

  “We could have that show after the last meal? Not that us human people are invited. I’m still planning to sneak in, unless that would insult our guests?”

  Anders smiled.

  “That will probably be fine. I’ll ask if they want to share the treat though, so no crying or complaining if they say no.” It had been a thing promised to Jonpries after all, so was their’s to share
or hold back from others.

  Anders had work to do, needing to practice the event, as well as connect with the invitees. To that end, he simply sat, after running through what he wanted for the evening, which would be heavy on full scenes, with music being very important to the event, rather than making it seem like it was a real thing. He thought that would work better for the type of person coming in for the evening. If any of them showed up.

  The new concept he worked on was simply a name for Jonpries. Then, having that, Anders tried to speak to the being and was a little shocked when it didn’t cause anything to explode or for a mental howl of pain to hit him when he checked on his friend. Who was in Istlan, from the feel of things.

  The message invited them, and anyone who wanted to come with him, for the event, and gave the location and time. There was no sense of acceptance or rejection, of course. What he did understand was when the being spoke to Far, and explained what had happened. So the meaning of the communication had gotten through, or so it seemed.

  Still, he was anxious, when evening came. He ate, since not having food in his middle wouldn’t help, regardless of anyone coming or not. Then, as the eighth horn blew, a powerful thing that came from a good distance away, Anders was led to the large hall.

  To find it filled with nearly three hundred beings of various colors, all of them floating peacefully, nudging and bumping one another.

  He moved to the front, noticing that about ten humans were there in the room as well, with Sweyn and her father and his friends, sitting next to Jonpries. He waved, then amplified his voice, so it would reach everyone in the large space.

  “Welcome friends! I tried to tailor this to be interesting to our Devica companions. If I miss the mark, tell me after the show so that I can improve, for the future! I hope you enjoy the events.”