The Magic War (The Eastern Slave Series Book 5)

by Victor Poole

  "No," Ajalia said. "But I want you to be civil with Philas. I have some things I want to get out of him, and if you start a fight, I won't get far." Delmar's mouth creased in annoyance.

  "Fine," he said. "But he'd better be civil to me."

  "Ocher did all right," Ajalia said, "after Clare got to work on him. He doesn't try to wear me down anymore."

  "That's good," Delmar said. "I wish men did not like you quite so much," he added woefully.

  "They don't like me," Ajalia said sensibly. "They like to feel important, and things happen around me." Delmar looked at her. "What?" she asked.

  "You're very beautiful," he said. "They like you because you're beautiful."

  "I have never been called beautiful," Ajalia said firmly. They had come to the dragon temple now. Ajalia handed the sheath to Delmar, and he put it over the blade of the dagger. He glanced at her bag.

  "Have you got any other interesting goodies in your bag?" he asked, smiling a little.

  "I have this," Ajalia said, pulling out the white stone that was flecked with purple. Delmar made such a great startle when he saw it that Ajalia thought he was going to fall right down the stairs.

  "Where did you get a sky stone?" he demanded, taking it from her.

  "Apparently Tree had a hoard," Ajalia said. "You heard Isacar say that," she reminded him.

  "Yes, but I thought he meant knick-knacks," Delmar said. He turned the white stone over in his hands. "This is very rare," he said.

  "I've been keeping it close since I found it," Ajalia said. "I have the feeling someone will steal it, if I'm not right next to it."

  A light was burning far down the hall, and shining out into the middle of the hall. Ajalia went towards the light. She saw that someone had taken a lamp, and set it down on the floor just outside one of the open doorways. When she went into the room, she saw Coren sitting with Philas. Philas was smiling, and Coren, Ajalia saw, had wiped the ointment away. His skin was covered with thick red blotches, like toughened scabs.

  "Hello," Coren said brightly. He saw Delmar come into the room behind Ajalia, and his face went a little pale. "I have to go," Coren said to Philas, and jumped to his feet. Delmar caught Coren's arm as he was passing out the door.

  "Where are you going?" Delmar asked in an even voice. Coren, who looked quite disturbed, glanced at Ajalia.

  "To bed?" Coren asked weakly. Delmar pushed his little brother gently into the room, and Coren, looking thoroughly miserable, went to a chair and sat down.

  "Hello again," Philas said genially to Delmar. Philas's eyes gave out a gleam when he looked at Ajalia, but he did not say anything to her.

  "I am not going to be friendly with you," Delmar told Philas. "You are not a nice man, in my book, and I don't trust you. She says," Delmar added, hooking his thumb at Ajalia, "that she still wants something from you, so I won't throw you out. Yet," Delmar added, and he took the white stone and the dagger and sat down. Ajalia picked up the lamp, and put it on the floor inside the room.

  "You two seem to be getting along well," she told Coren. Coren, who looked as though he was being squashed to death by being in a room with Delmar, made a mumbling, burbling noise.

  "Are you in awe of my sudden grandeur?" Delmar asked sourly. Coren blushed, and Philas let out a chortle. Delmar shot Philas an angry look, and the slave petered into silence.

  "Tell me about the fourth king of Saroyan," Ajalia told Philas. Philas, who looked caught off guard, glanced at Coren.

  "I'm not the prince," Philas said.

  "I know that," Ajalia said, although she didn't. "I want to know why you want to stay near to Saroyan. What is your secret plan?" Philas, who had been looking thoughtful, grimaced, as though Ajalia had struck a nerve.

  "I don't have any secret plan," Philas said quickly. "And anyway, I don't want to be back in Saroyan."

  "I didn't say you did," Ajalia said. "I said that you want to be near Saroyan. Why? What information do you have that is so valuable to the fourth king?"

  "He's not the king anymore," Philas mumbled unintelligibly.

  "What?" Ajalia asked. "Can you understand what he says?" she asked Coren. Coren, who seemed relieved that the attention was off him now, looked around.

  "He said that he's not the king anymore," Coren said helpfully.

  "So?" Ajalia asked Philas. "Why does that matter?" Philas's skin was glowing dark red in the ruddy lamplight.

  "I'll be going now," Philas said, and moved as though to stand up. Delmar conjured a bright spark of gold light, and it twisted across Philas's chest. Philas, who clearly could not see the golden lines of light, hesitated, and then tried again to stand.

  "I can't stand up," Philas said, his voice sounding doubtful. Coren was watching the golden ropes that Delmar was now twisting around the arms of the chair, fixing Philas down to the piece of furniture. Delmar sent more rods of gold through the legs of the chair into the floor, and when Philas thrust his whole body against the restraining lines of light, the chair did not budge. "What have you done to me?" Philas demanded, staring down at his wrists, and jerking them helplessly against the bindings.

  "Magic," Delmar said. Delmar was sitting in a chair opposite Philas, the white stone and the dagger in his hands. Ajalia thought that Delmar looked like a robber king from an old legend. The dark red tunic she had sewn up the sides clung to his massive frame, and his bearded chin was regal in the lamplight. Coren was watching his older brother with something like dawning admiration in his eyes. Ajalia remembered the way Coren had acted before, and how he had called Delmar stupid on multiple occasions. She told herself that there was no way Coren would be able to think of Delmar as stupid now. Delmar looked dangerous and cunning; he looked powerful.

  "Let me up!" Philas shouted, his voice growing brittle with fear. "This is a trick! Let me up!"

  "Why don't you tell Ajalia what she wants to know?" Delmar suggested. Philas glared at the young Thief Lord, and hatred was in the lines of his mouth. Ajalia thought that she could see reams of anger and vitriolic speech building up in Philas's mouth. Philas turned to Ajalia, and spoke in the Eastern language.

  "Will you tell him to let me go?" Philas asked.

  "No," Ajalia said in Slavithe. Philas's eyes darkened even more, and his nostrils flared.

  "Where is your loyalty to master? To our house?" Philas demanded, the Eastern words flying out of him like venom.

  "I am getting master exactly what he wants," Ajalia said, still speaking in Slavithe. "You, Philas, are obstructing me. Master will see this, if you do not stop."

  Philas looked as though he were ready to bite Delmar in two, if he could reach him. The ropes of golden light tightened against Philas, who was rapidly growing inarticulate with rage.

  "You really belong to me," Philas hissed at Ajalia in the Eastern tongue. "I loved you before he did." Philas shot an angry glance at Delmar, who was watching him impassively. "He's a fool, and a child," Philas grunted in the Eastern language, wrestling with increasing futility against the lights that he could not see. Delmar, Ajalia thought, looked very much like a man, while Philas, who was squirming wildly under the restraints, looked like a toddler throwing an epic tantrum. Ajalia got up from the door, where she had been leaning against the frame, and crossed to Philas. Philas watched her come towards him, his eyes wild and starting from his face. Ajalia reached below the earth, and into the sky, and mixed a small ball of the ocean blue magic.

  "Let me out of this chair, Ajalia," Philas spat in the Eastern tongue. Coren was watching the whole scene with his knees drawn up beneath his chin. He glanced with open interest at Delmar, and Ajalia thought she saw the boy looking jealously at Delmar's rugged beard.

  "No," Ajalia said in the Eastern tongue, and she pressed the ball of blue light against Philas's forehead.

  Philas went suddenly limp; his eyes vibrated a little, and his tongue pushed helplessly out of his mouth.

  "Tell me about the fourth king of Saroyan," Ajalia said in Slavithe. Philas gave a jolt, and
then spoke as if in a trance.

  "The fourth king of Saroyan was my father," Philas said. He spoke still in the Eastern language. Delmar watched Philas narrowly, and Ajalia saw that he was imitating the shape of the words with his lips. She reminded herself to teach Delmar more of the Eastern tongue. She thought of the slaves staying now in Talbos, and told herself to remember to send for one or two of them later on. If her master did come to Slavithe, Delmar would be well-positioned if he was accustomed to the Eastern way of moving always with servants, and, she thought, he would learn much more of their ways by living with them.

  "Are you a prince of Saroyan?" Ajalia asked. Philas shook his head slowly from side to side. He replied in the Eastern tongue, though Ajalia had addressed him in the Slavithe language.

  "I am a bastard," Philas said. "I was an embarrassment to the throne. I was sent away as a child. My aunt gave me the ring, and the papers, so that I would be able to show who I was."

  "Who sold you?" Ajalia asked. Coren and Delmar, who could only understand Ajalia's half of the conversation, were watching Philas with rapt attention. Delmar's face was a study in fixed concentration; Ajalia wondered if he had given any thought yet to official relations with Saroyan.

  "My father had me taken from my mother when I was three," Philas said. Tears were beginning to rise up in his eyes, but none of them spilled out over his lower lids. "I was kept outside the city until I was old enough to take care of myself, and then I was put on a boat." Philas blinked. He seemed to be coming out of the daze that the blue magic had had on his mind. "That's when my aunt gave me the things," Philas said. He was still speaking in the Eastern language, but he looked around at Delmar and Coren suspiciously.

  "What about the golden knife?" Ajalia asked. Philas looked up, and met her gaze. He blinked away the wetness in his eyes, and cleared his throat.

  "I stole that," Philas said. "It was supposed to go to my half-brother, the real prince. I'm the oldest," Philas said with a grin. "My father had an old flame, and after he was married, and his wife left him, he got together with her. It's a long story. I technically inherit, but half the kingdom was up in arms about the affair. My father was going to marry my mother, you know," he added. He seemed to lose himself in thought after this. Ajalia could see that he was no longer under the influence of the magic.

  "Why don't you go home?" Ajalia asked. Philas tried to spread his hands, but the golden lines of light kept his arms still. Philas laughed.

  "Your lover has tied me down," Philas said in the Eastern tongue. Delmar was still staring hard at Philas, a look of some fixation in his eyes. Ajalia thought that Delmar was trying to find out, by listening very hard, what Philas was saying. "It's complicated," Philas said, in response to Ajalia's question about him going home.

  "What's complicated about it?" Ajalia asked. "You go home, to take power, and then you're the king of Saroyan. What is wrong with that?" Philas looked at her with a look on his face that was reminiscent of the old Philas, the Philas she had worked with, and grown to like.

  "Things like this are not so simple as you make them sound," Philas said. Ajalia looked at him, and blinked.

  "Delmar did it," she said. She was still speaking in Slavithe, and Delmar looked over at her when she spoke his name. "It took me less than three months to work the entire transition, and I wasn't even thinking about it most of the time." She looked at Delmar, and at Coren. "To be perfectly honest," she said, "most of it took about five days, altogether. I fail to see why you could not do the same, if you are legitimately the last king's son, and the oldest, and your mother was popular with some of the people over there."

  Philas's eyes had grown weary. He finally switched into Slavithe. Ajalia thought that Philas had been hoping to wear her out by speaking only in the Eastern tongue, but he looked now quite impatient.

  "That's easy enough for you to say," Philas snapped. "He isn't a drunk, or ugly, or too old."

  "I'm twenty-six," Delmar said. "People here gave up on me after I turned sixteen." He glanced at Ajalia. "Ten years is a long time to be a pathetic disappointment at everything. Are you talking about making him king?" Delmar asked Ajalia. Ajalia nodded. "I like that idea," Delmar said. There was a twinkle in Delmar's eye, and Ajalia suspected that Delmar liked this plan mostly because it involved Philas living an ocean away from her. Ajalia went to Delmar, and sat down on the arm of his chair. The chairs she had placed in this room were large and cozy; some of the larger rooms held lighter or more delicate chairs, but Ajalia had placed mostly comfortable pieces throughout the smaller rooms that lay on either side of the great hall.

  "Coren, go stand at the doorway," Delmar said to his brother. "A man is coming here soon. Tell me when you see him." Coren got to his feet, and wandered to the door.

  "I'm a mess," Philas told Ajalia, an angry crease between his eyebrows. "I'm cranky, and I'm rude, and no one likes you, either."

  "Everyone told me I was stupid," Delmar said helpfully. "And I like Ajalia very much. I think you're jealous." Delmar's face was turned philosophical. Ajalia thought she could see Philas grinding his teeth.

  "It's true that people called Delmar stupid," Coren said, without blushing. Delmar shot his little brother a look, but Coren had turned his face out into the hall.

  "My point is," Delmar said, "that you can probably do it. Does everyone hate your half-brother now? Is he king?" Philas wriggled in the chair again, and looked down at the place where the golden line, invisible to him, was crossing over his chest.

  "Will you please let me out?" Philas asked. He was smiling, but his voice was hard.

  "No," Ajalia said. She settled her weight against Delmar's shoulder, and he looked at her and smiled. This is fun, Delmar's face seemed to say.

  "I don't want to talk about this," Philas said. His eyebrows drew down. "How did you get me to talk about it in the first place?" he demanded. Ajalia raised her palm and made a shimmering blue mark in the shape of their master's household sign, the same symbol she had drawn on her forehead before. Philas turned his eyes to the place in the air. "I don't see anything," Philas complained. "Am I supposed to be seeing something?"

  Ajalia imagined the blue mark moving through the air, and resting briefly, like a shining blue snake, against her face, where she usually made the mark. Philas's eyes grew wide.

  "How are you doing that?" Philas asked.

  "Ajalia," Delmar said thoughtfully.

  "Mm," she said.

  "Do you think, if we purged him of darkness, and reconnected his soul to the earth, that he would grow a white brand?" Delmar was looking with great interest at Philas. Ajalia remembered that Delmar, though he could not always see the colored lights, had been able to see the white brand that stretched over the hearts of those who were pure.

  "What's that?" Philas demanded. "What's a white brand?"

  "You know," Ajalia said, looking thoughtfully at her fellow Eastern slave, "I tried that with Daniel, a little while ago, and he's got a fine brand of his own now."

  "Interesting," Delmar said. Coren raised an arm, and waved at Delmar.

  "There's a man here," Coren called. Delmar got to his feet, and handed the white stone and the dagger to Ajalia.

  "I'll have to get my own bag, or something," he told her with a smile. Ajalia smiled back, and told herself that she would never, under any circumstances whatsoever, allow Delmar to go about with a bag. Pockets, she told herself, and a good belt.

  "Philas," Ajalia said.

  "Don't you dare leave me here, Ajalia," Philas said at once, his eyes flashing.

  "I have to see this guy about some things," Ajalia said. She fought back a smile; Philas was looking at her with anger and panic in his eyes.

  "Jay," Philas said coaxingly.

  "Just think," Ajalia said, moving towards the door, "maybe when I come back, you can work on becoming king of Saroyan. And don't call me that," she added.

  "Jay!" Philas shouted, jerking his arms and his body up in the chair. The golden lines of light hel
d firm; sweat was beginning to bead at his temples. Ajalia followed Delmar out of the room, and caught Coren around the shoulders. She guessed that Coren wanted to go in and torment Philas, and though she was prepared to leave Philas tied up for a while, she was not willing to subject him, all alone, to the relentless teasing of Coren. Coren, Ajalia told herself, could be alarmingly abrasive when he wanted to be.

  Ajalia walked Coren along with her. Delmar was a little ahead, and was walking towards the shadowy figure of Denai, who was standing just within the moonlight. Ajalia wondered again if it ever rained here; she had thought, when she had seen the lush forest, and the fertile farms that stretched all around the western wall of Slavithe, that the climate would be a wet one, but she had yet to experience a since drop of rain while she had lived here.

  Behind Denai, and a little to one side, was the lumpy figure of Ullar. Ajalia held on to Coren, and stopped within the darkness of the hall.

  "Wait," Ajalia said to Coren. Delmar went forward, and Ajalia saw him speak briefly with Denia. Ullar came hesitantly forward, as Denai gestured back to her, and Delmar spoke to the woman for a little while. Ajalia waited until she saw Ullar slump down into defeated tears, and then she pushed gently at Coren. "Keep your mouth shut," she murmured to the boy, and he nodded.

  They went forward, and when Ullar saw Ajalia, the middle-aged woman's face, which was already streaked with devastating tears, went a funny color of green. The moon was only a little visible in the sky; they were all standing in the first part of the dragon temple hall, where the light fell in towards the pillars.

  "I didn't want anyone to know," Ullar said, wiping quickly at her tears. "I didn't want anyone to know about him."

  "Have you told her that Thell is dead?" Ajalia asked Delmar.

  "Thell is dead," Delmar said promptly, as though he had been meaning to say this all along. Ajalia was sure that Delmar had not known this before, but he covered himself very well, and Ullar let out a long and shivering sigh.

  "I should not be glad," she said, "but I am. I did not know that he would turn out to be a priest," she told Delmar. "I never would have lived with him before, if I had known. He had a change of heart, soon after we were first together, and he ran off to join the priesthood. Bain was born after that, and when Thell came back to me, and learned of the child, he threatened to take him off, and to grow him into a priest. That is when I took Bain to Beryl."