The Thief Lord's Son (The Eastern Slave Series Book 3)

by Victor Poole

  The great white gate of Slavithe loomed up in the darkness before Ajalia, and she looked into the shadows, trying to see the guards. She could see no shapes in the darkness; a lone torch was burning beside the smaller door set into the wall, which was ajar. She thought that Delmar would have gone through the secret passage in the wall, but she had no intention of leaving her black horse behind. She rode towards the open door; the gate appeared to be abandoned. The light of the flames flickered against the white stones. Ajalia slipped off the bare back of her black horse, and led him towards the door. She glanced through, and saw the nodding leaves of the thick trees that lay at either side of the road. The white path out of Slavithe was dim and pale in the night. Ajalia led her horse through the open door, and pulled the door shut behind her. She levered her body back onto the horse, and directed him into the road. She stayed close to the edge of the road, near the trees, and rode until she came to the place where the trees thinned out. She turned the horse into the forest, and rode slowly towards Delmar's secret hollow.

  Delmar was not there when she came to the place; she slipped off of the black horse, and tied him to a low branch. She climbed up the trunk of one of the trees that formed the hollow, and retrieved the bag she had stowed there. She settled herself into a notch in the branches, and waited.

  Delmar came to the hollow after another hour; Ajalia slipped down the tree. She sat down at the farther edge of the twisting tree roots, and waited for him to see her. He was carrying a great heap of his books; there were more of them than she had seen before, and he was moving very slowly. Ajalia watched him lug the piles of books into the hollow. He looked up when he had finished, and saw her sitting there.

  THE RETURN OF BAIN

  "I didn't think you'd come," Delmar said. His voice sounded strange; he didn't sound like the Delmar Ajalia had known. She said nothing, and watched him vault into the hollow. "They would burn my books," he told her, "if they found them."

  "Your father's dead," Ajalia pointed out.

  "Ocher's just the same," Delmar said dismissively. Ajalia disagreed, but she did not reply. "What happened after I left?" he asked.

  "I bought you time," Ajalia said. Delmar began to pile his books carefully along the edges of the hollow. "Where are you going to hide them now?" she asked.

  "I can't go back," Delmar said. "I'll take them with me."

  "Where are you going to go?" Ajalia asked. She had expected Delmar to be as he had been before, to weep, or to turn red. She had not anticipated his new calm demeanor.

  "I don't know," Delmar said. "Somewhere that isn't here."

  "And me?" Ajalia asked. Delmar looked up at her.

  "What do you mean?" he asked blankly. Ajalia's heart turned over, and her elbows felt like water.

  "I see," she said evenly.

  "You see what?" he asked idly, turning over one of the books, and touching a torn place along the spine.

  "I thought you'd have a rough time," she said.

  "Oh," he said, and shrugged.

  "Are we over, then?" Ajalia asked. She could not describe exactly how she felt, but she knew she was being discarded, and her skin began to burn.

  "I don't know what you mean by that," Delmar said coolly.

  Ajalia stood up without another word, and slung her bag over her arm. She hopped down from the hollow, and untied her black horse. Delmar looked up, and watched her work.

  "Are you going somewhere?" Delmar asked her. She did not reply. She did not trust herself to speak. She told herself that she had been a fool about Delmar from the first day she had known him. She wanted nothing more than to never see or speak to him again. She stepped up onto the edge of the hollow, and climbed onto the black horse. "Are you leaving me?" Delmar demanded, his voice rising.

  Ajalia almost opened her mouth to say goodbye, and then pressed her lips together. She lifted the rope that she had fashioned around the horse's nose and ears, and pushed her calves against his flanks.

  "Ajalia," Delmar said, and he sounded irritated. Ajalia was tempted to laugh, but she turned her face into the darkness between the trees, and rode away. "Hey!" Delmar called. She listened for his footsteps, but heard nothing. I will go and see Philas, Ajalia told herself, and take the money East myself. She thought of the plans she had laid within Slavithe, and she mentally kicked herself for wasting so much of her time over Delmar. I'm a fool, she told herself, and she watched the moonlight filter down through the branches of the trees.

  She rode the black horse across the road, and into the long cave that ran beneath the earth. She dismounted again, and got the money she had concealed under the earth. She added these coins to the bag, and then got back on the horse. She rode across the road again, and moved through the trees until she found the final hiding place, where she had hidden the slim leather book. She wiped the dust and dirt from the book as she placed it into the bag, and then she turned the horse back onto the road towards Slavithe.

  I should never have spoken to him at all, she told herself, and she remembered her plans for Chad, and for Leed. I could have gone with Philas, she reminded herself, but she let go of this thought. Trade route, she told herself, and a steely light came back into her eyes. She pressed her legs against the black horse's sides, and came to the great white walls of Slavithe. She turned down into the rim of sand that lay alongside the walls, and rode until she came to the great block that came out of the wall, where Delmar had shown her his books. She found the place where he had replaced the stone, and put her fingers around the edges.

  "It's too heavy for you," Delmar said. Ajalia jumped; she looked around, and saw him standing in the white sand, his arms bent at his sides. "I knew you'd come back for your money," Delmar explained, stepping forward to dislodge the block. "I thought you'd stay in the city," he told her. She kept her lips pressed tightly closed. "Are you going to talk to me at all?" he demanded, and Ajalia heard an anxious note come into his voice for the first time.

  "No," she said, and watched him worm his body up into the gap he had made. He slithered down, and handed her the bundle she had tossed up into the hole long ago. In his hands, she saw the leather pouch that she had forgotten, the first time she had met him. Her heart made a sudden leap. She took it, and examined its contents.

  "I didn't touch your things," Delmar said, sounding miffed. Ajalia put the bundle into the leather pouch, and dropped them both into her bag. "Aren't you going to say anything?" Delmar asked. She wanted to ask him why he had never told her that he had found the pouch of money, and hidden it in the wall with his books. She looked at him. He was smiling a little, as though he were proud of keeping the pouch a secret.

  "No," Ajalia said. She turned her horse, and rode back towards the gate.

  "Jay, wait!" Delmar shouted. He ran after her, and put a hand on her knee. She looked at him, and he flinched at the expression on her face. "What's the matter with you?" he demanded, and he sounded doubtful.

  "I don't want you to touch me," Ajalia said, her voice calm and even. Delmar snatched his hand away as if he had been burned.

  "Sorry," he said harshly. He turned back, and wrestled the stone back into place. Ajalia watched him, and wondered if he was going to apologize. If he doesn't apologize, without me telling him what he did wrong, Ajalia told herself, I will never speak to him again. Delmar came slowly back towards her, his eyes fixed on her face, and his boots kicking through the fine white sand.

  "Well," he said, when he reached her, "I've done something."

  "Yes," she said, and turned the black horse back towards the city gates. She could sense that he thought the pouch of money was going to act as some kind of ticket to forgiveness; she studiously ignored the weight of the leather pouch. She told herself that Delmar was counting on her being thankful; she thought of the many times he could easily have brought it to her, or told her that he had it, and she felt annoyed. The leather pouch, she thought, was a distraction from the main issue at hand. She refused to be taken off course by Delmar's quiet revel
ation of the money.

  "What have I done?" he demanded. She said nothing. "I killed my father," Delmar said, irritation building in his voice, "what else do you want?" Ajalia looked at Delmar, and she thought her nose was going to wrinkle all the way up into her forehead. She shook her head, and nudged the black horse into a trot. "Where are you going?" Delmar shouted. He ran up to the horse's head, and grabbed the rope. "Stop!" Delmar said vehemently. "Stop and talk to me. I don't know what I did. Did I offend you?"

  "Yes," Ajalia said. Delmar stared at her.

  "Do you want to come with me?" he asked. His eyes were beginning to open up wider; Ajalia thought that he had never seemed to be present, like he was now. Even when he had pressed golden magic into her flesh, he had not seemed to know what he did. Now he looked at her, and she saw his eyes dipping down into his soul, and presenting all of himself.

  "I dislike you," Ajalia said, finally.

  "Fine," Delmar said. "That doesn't mean you need to leave."

  "I have things to do," Ajalia said.

  "Like what?" Delmar demanded.

  "Philas has money that belongs to my master," Ajalia said.

  "Then we'll go East," Delmar said.

  "You can't come East," Ajalia told him.

  "Why not?" Delmar demanded.

  "Because I won't take you there," she said. Delmar stared at her, and a line appeared between his eyebrows.

  "Why are you upset?" he asked.

  "I'm going to tell Chad what happened," Ajalia said, and nudged her horse again. Delmar was still grasping the rope in his hand, and the black horse sidled to one side.

  "Hold still," Delmar said irritably to the horse. "Why Chad?" he demanded.

  "You can leave," Ajalia said, her eyes beginning to burn. "I don't mind. I have things to do." Delmar stared up at her, and in the darkness, his eyes began to get round.

  "Did you think I meant I didn't want you to come with me?" Delmar asked. He looked horrified. "Sorry," he said, and looked down at the ground.

  "Well," Ajalia said. She tugged gently at the rope, and Delmar let go of it. She nudged the horse, and he began to walk.

  "So you're leaving me now?" Delmar asked anxiously, walking to keep up with the black horse. "Who's going to be the Thief Lord now?" he added, his face twisting, and worry lines appearing over his eyes.

  "I don't really want to talk about it," Ajalia said.

  "You don't have to be all nasty about it," Delmar snapped.

  "I'm not being nasty," Ajalia said calmly. "I don't want to talk about it."

  "But you have to talk to me!" Delmar said. A note of desperation was creeping into his voice. Ajalia looked down at him.

  "Why do I have to talk to you?" she asked.

  "Because," Delmar said.

  Bain appeared before them. Ajalia saw that Delmar did not see the boy. She halted the horse, and crossed her arms over the black withers.

  "What do you want?" she asked Bain. Bain smiled brightly.

  "I've figured out how to speak to my mother," Bain said.

  "Who's that?" Delmar asked sharply. He looked ahead, at where Bain stood, and Ajalia saw his shoulders climb up towards his ears.

  "This is Bain," she told Delmar.

  Delmar dropped like a stone to the ground; he thrust his fingers into the fine sand, and Ajalia saw the light beneath the earth drawing up in tiny beads towards Delmar's skin.

  "What is he trying to do to me?" Bain asked Ajalia, sounding amused.

  "That's how he does magic," Ajalia told Bain. Bain laughed, and walked up to the horse. He reached a hand out to the horse's nose, and Ajalia drew back on the rope. The black horse stepped backwards. "Don't touch my horse," she said. Bain withdrew his hand.

  "My mother wants to see you," Bain told Ajalia.

  "I don't want to see her," Ajalia told him.

  "You have to see her, if she wants," Bain said. "She knows about the Thief Lord's wife now. I told her."

  "I don't care," Ajalia said. "She's lucky I don't tell Ocher about her." Bain jolted a little at Ocher's name.

  "Ocher can't do real magic," Bain said. The boy's eyes moved over to Delmar, who had now gathered a sizable fist of magic, and was just beginning to stand. "Does he think he can hurt me?" Bain asked, amusement in his face, his mouth turning in a smile.

  "Where is he?" Delmar asked Ajalia, standing with his hand open, golden light flaming against his palm. Ajalia looked at Delmar, and saw great holes in the whole of his body, where light was leaking out. Ajalia blinked, and stared at the rents in Delmar's skin. She thought that she was seeing his soul, and that his soul was all ripped into pieces. She thought that Delmar could not get cords of magic, because of the holes in his soul.

  "Bain is there," she said, pointing at where the boy stood in front of the black horse. The black horse's ears were pricked, one turned towards Delmar, and the other pointed at Bain. Ajalia watched Delmar step forward a little, and spread his fingers out towards the boy.

  "He can't see me," Bain said confidently. "Only witches can hurt me."

  Ajalia watched the lights in Delmar's hands. She was beginning to see the lights of magic when she thought of the cords beneath the ground; it was as though she had a second vision, underneath her first. The lights were more of a mental picture than something she saw before her; she looked, and she saw in her mind what was there. She had avoided thinking about the implications of the magic for some time, but now, as she watched the golden flecks of light move slowly away from Delmar's fingers, and towards Bain, she began to examine her position.

  She had hoped, the first time she had seen the magic, that there would have been some benign explanation for the golden sparks, but once she had begun to use the cords of power beneath the earth, the temptation to rely upon them grew stronger every day. Ajalia was used to power, and to forming situations around her into shapes of her liking, and the power that lay all around and beneath her made her fingers itch. She wanted to master the power, but she feared becoming like the witches with many faces behind them. She feared becoming what her mother had been, an untrained witch, a witch who knew how to take lights from other bodies, but not how to build, or to heal. Ajalia admitted to herself, as she listened to Bain's words, and watched the golden sparks spread through the air towards the boy, that her mother had worked magic.

  "My mother wants me to bring you back, to meet with her," Bain was saying. His face was arranged in a kind of cocky assurance; his eyebrows were tilted, and he looked up at Ajalia speculatively, as though he were thinking of how much she would cost to purchase. His hands were propped arrogantly on his hips. Ajalia watched the golden lights pass into Bain's skin, and then through him. Bain wiggled his shoulders when the lights touched him. "He can't hurt me," Bain said again, and he sounded irritated.

  "I have no interest in seeing your mother again," Ajalia told Bain. His lips turned down into a frown.

  "She'll go and see the Thief Lord," Bain threatened. "She'll tell him you killed that witch."

  "Did you kill a witch?" Delmar asked Ajalia.

  "Yes," she said.

  "Good," Delmar said, and he closed his fingers into a hard fist. Bain yelped; Ajalia looked at the boy, and saw that his body was beginning to drift apart.

  "What are you doing to him?" Ajalia asked. She watched Bain's face grow concerned, and then angry.

  "Stop!" Bain shouted. He put his fingers into his chest, and tried to pull the tiny strings of lights away. "Stop that!" he screamed. He sounded agitated now, and afraid. "What are you doing?" he cried, scratching at his heart.

  Ajalia heard Delmar say a few words beneath his breath, in the old Slavithe, and then he twisted his outstretched arm. Bain howled, and his whole being began to shiver in the air. His arms and legs flashed in and out of sight; Ajalia's lips parted, and she watched Bain begin to slip into tiny slivers. His arms and legs stretched out into the air; he hovered above the ground, and Ajalia remembered how Bain had stepped out into the air, and how he came in and out of view.
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  "He's trying to vanish," Ajalia told Delmar. Delmar nodded curtly, and raised his free hand, his palm pointed at the sky. Ajalia watched as Bain flashed brightly, and then came wholly into view.

  "Why are you helping him?" Bain shrieked at Ajalia. "You need to help me! I'm the son of the Thief Lord! Stop him!" Bain shouted.

  Ajalia began to laugh. She thought of Ullar, and tried to imagine Simon coupling with that middle-aged mother.

  "If you are the son of the Thief Lord," Ajalia said, "then your mother is a whore."

  Bain's mouth opened in a ferocious yell; his eyes were wild, and his fingers scrambled in the air.

  "Let me go!" Bain shouted.

  "Is Bain your half-brother?" Ajalia asked Delmar. Delmar ignored her, and brought his hands closer to each other. Bain shrieked again, and the golden threads grew taut. "Are you killing him?" she asked Delmar, and Delmar nodded sharply. The black horse snorted, and shook out his mane. Ajalia watched, fascination and disgust battling in her gut, as Bain was sliced into bits by the golden threads. The boy's shouts grew louder, and then began to die gradually away. Bain's face was drawn into scraps of glowing light, and his shoulders and ribs floated away from his body, like scraps of paper that were cut from a book.