by Arthur Slade
“Which is?” Megan asked.
“It’s pointing toward the Akkad Empire. Are we prepared to fly straight at our enemies?”
“What choice do we have?” Megan said. “We either flee now or follow the words of the witch — the gythia, I mean.” She glanced at Thord and grinned. “See, I can learn things.”
“Hearing the three of you argue,” Brax said, his voice rumbling loud enough to startle me, “is like hearing children bicker. And I hate children. They’re so hard to digest.” He didn’t open his eye. I rolled my eyes because I knew he was joking. Neither Megan nor Thord looked certain, though. As far as I knew Brax hadn’t moved at all since we’d left many hours earlier. Then I saw the book near his foot and realized he’d been awake long enough to read.
“Do you have a suggestion?” I asked.
“Yes. Be quiet. I’m trying to digest.”
“You didn’t eat my father’s sheep, did you?” Thord asked.
“You didn’t eat my father’s sheep,” Brax repeated, giving his voice a high pitch. “No. I was feeling kind. Oin has fewer sheep today.”
“Since you seem to think we’re children,” Megan said, “tell us what to do, Father.”
This got Brax to open his eye and laugh. “Clever! I like your sharpness. You are either flying into a trap, or your famed Banderius is doubly smart for hiding right under the emperor’s nose. Well, I guess it’s a long way from his nose, since Deva is as far as you can get from Akkadium. More like his toenails. But you know what I mean.”
“I say we go,” Thord said. “We can’t wait here. They’ll soon track us down. And they, too, have figured out what his hidden message is, so perhaps they’ll find Banderius.”
“I agree,” I said. Megan said nothing; she was already leading her swan out of the barn.
In a few moments we were winging through the clouds and heading toward the Akkad Empire.
Chapter 19
Flight across the Past
When we crossed the border, I got more than a chill. Five hundred years earlier the land below had been called Daega and was populated by artisans and warriors known for ceramics and their skill in weaving blue blankets. The Akkad Empire conquered them in a few short months. Thousands had died, and the Daegans were enslaved and those artisans ordered to build roads, temples, and walls around the Akkad cities. Their ceramic bowls and plates were long broken, their exquisite blue blankets torn to shreds. But their ghosts whispered to me.
“You are inordinately pensive,” Brax said. A few wingbeats later he added: “Did you speak to a priestess in Gudheim?”
“Yes,” I said. “How did you know?”
“You mentioned her while you three bickered. Did you know they bury the wives of chieftains with their husbands after they die? Sadly the wives are still alive.”
“They don’t do that anymore,” I said, though I hadn’t read enough history of Woden to be sure whether I was right.
“Yes they do,” he said. “They are human.” He did his best shrug — that is, as well as a dragon can shrug flying at full speed.
We had been following Megan for hours. The landscape below us became less mountainous and more like a prairie. Occasionally she would hold the spear compass out, stare at it for several moments, and then change direction. The lights of a city appeared in the distance.
“We are nearing Deva,” I said.
“I see that,” Brax said. “Your friends, though, with their measly human eyes, cannot see that far. We should tell them.”
He sped up, but at that same moment Megan made a signal and circled back, her swan cutting easily through the air. “It’s pointing straight down,” she said as she passed us. “We’re here!” And, with that, she flew downward.
We descended in a slow circle out of the mist. Massive stone walls of an ancient fortress were below us, and the closer we got, the older I realized it was. It wasn’t an Akkad design, so it must have belonged to the Daegans. Trees had poked through the smaller buildings but the main keep itself still looked sturdy.
“You may not want the swans to see that.” Brax motioned with his nose.
A dead swan, its body broken, lay among the rubble.
“Do you still want to be dropped off?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. Though the sight of a dead swan meant that an assassin had perhaps met a bad end here. “This time come the moment I make the hoot of the whiskered screech owl.”
“You should maybe just shout my name,” he suggested. “Your owl sounds are an insult to owls.”
I didn’t have a smart answer to that. Plus, I was watching the roof of the keep grow nearer and nearer. Since he was too heavy for the roof, I slipped off him in the air and landed softly on the main keep. Brax swept his great wings silently and took into the air. He glanced back, and I thought there might be concern on his face. Both Thord and Megan slid off their swans and with a waved command they winged upward to circle the fortress.
“This place looks deserted,” Thord whispered.
“I saw a dead swan,” I said.
“Well that bodes ill,” Megan said. “But a little death has never frightened us, right?” She drew out the spear compass, which pointed straight down. “If this compass truly shows Banderius’s location, then he’s right under our feet.”
“Our only choice is to follow it,” Thord said.
I didn’t spot any guards. If he’d gathered together a group of assassins, you’d think he would have posted lookouts. Maybe we’d find his skeleton down there.
I clutched my daggers, Thord quietly unsheathed his sword, and Megan drew her small crossbow. Without a word she started down the steps of a broken tower, with Thord only a few feet behind. I turned to look behind and above, aware that attack could come from any direction. There were no strings strung across the steps to ring tiny bells. No traps that an assassin would have prepared for unwanted arrivals. The place had to be abandoned.
Halfway down the stairwell we came to a wooden door. It was relatively new, the first sign that someone had been here recently. Megan held out the compass, which was now pointing directly at the door as if Banderius might be standing on the other side.
We nodded to each other to indicate we were ready, then Megan opened the door. Its hinges didn’t utter a squeak. Before us was a long dining hall with an ancient wooden table that still stood on all four legs, even though a chunk of it had fallen away. There was a metal plate at one end with what looked to be the remains of a meal. A fire crackled in the hearth. One part of the wall next to the hearth had fallen in, showing starlight.
A man sat in a chair staring at the flames, his back to us. He had a flask in his hand.
“Put away your weapons,” he said, without turning. “Or I will kill you where you stand.”
Chapter 20
The Oath
I tightened the grip on my daggers.
“Perhaps I worded that too strongly,” he said. “You are not in danger here. Nor are you wetlings a danger to me.”
He continued gazing into the fire, not even bothering to look our way.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“You know who I am. I heard you land on the roof, so you came by swan. And that girl is holding a compass that’s aiming at my heart.”
The spear compass in Megan’s left hand was pointing at him.
“You’re Banderius.” I felt stupid saying it.
“This is what our graduates have come to,” he said. “Simpletons. No wonder the Red Fortress went up in flames.” He took another long sip. “Please tramp over here and stand before me. I am too bored to turn my head.”
I glanced at my companions. Thord and Megan both shrugged. I scanned the room for signs of other assassins, but he seemed to be alone. We walked the twenty or so steps across the floor and stood to one side of the hearth. The fire was warm; I hadn’t realized how cold my hands had become.
Banderius was not old. Nor did it look like life as a rich assassin had softened him. He was wearing obsidian armour
, a thin black metal that only the richest could afford. And the rumours of his handsomeness had been true: his jaw was straight, his face well-featured and rugged at the same time. Even though he slouched in his chair, there was a lithe power to his body.
“I said you could put away your weapons.”
Thord did so, and Megan and I followed his example.
Banderius took a drink from his flask. The fire crackled. “Which ones are you?” he asked. “Not that it matters.”
We spoke our names. He nodded at each one but raised an eyebrow when I said mine.
“Back from the dead, are you?” he said.
“How do you know about that?”
His grin didn’t make his eyes seem any warmer. “I have not survived in the madness outside these walls without knowing things. Now tell me, who else survives?”
I thought of mentioning Maestru Beatrix. No, best not to let anyone know about her.
“We hope there are others,” Thord said. “But we only know of each other.”
“How is it you have swans?” Banderius asked.
“I worked in the swannery,” Megan said. “I was able to call down two of the freed ones when I escaped the school.” She spat that lie out in a heartbeat. Good for her.
“But there are three of you,” Banderius said. “You only mentioned two swans.”
“I found mine on my own,” I said. “Swans like me.”
He turned his bleary eyes in my direction. Why did he seem so angry? We had come across a great distance to find him, and he was treating us like children. Like a burden. A round stone hung from his neck. “That’s what draws the spear on the compass,” I said.
He touched the stone. “Yes. It is matched to my magnetic personality.” His chuckle was gravelly. “So you spoke to the gythia and the gothi?” he asked.
“Yes,” Thord said. “They gave us the spear compass.”
“Then you are perhaps not as stupid as you first seemed. And my missives I sent to the Five Realms, they worked. You obviously unravelled the riddle?”
“We did,” Thord said. “Though we encountered Empire soldiers in Gudheim. Immortals chased us from the temple.”
He frowned. “I guess that way is closed now.”
“The gythia said other assassins came to them,” I said. “Did they find you?”
His bleary-eyed gaze was on me again. “That’s not your business. You need to gain my trust before I give you information. But why would you search out Banderius, of all the assassins who remain alive?”
“Maestru Alesius told me to find you,” I said.
This made him blink, and his face didn’t seem so pinched by anger. “You saw him before he died?”
“He said you’d be able to hide us and would know what to do now.”
“He was a good man.” Banderius took a long swig from his flask. The stink of wine carried on his breath as he spoke: “Such a good man. He had his high and mighty ideals, but he still thought enough of me to set you on my trail?”
“Yes,” I said. “He told me to trust you.”
“And did Alesius die well?” Banderius asked.
“He died fighting to the very end.” My voice cracked a little.
“He would.” Banderius closed his eyes for a long time. “One never outgrows one’s master,” he said. Then his eyes opened and flashed with anger. “I will avenge him.”
The way he said it made a chill run down my spine. I’d not want to anger this man.
“You can get revenge.” I grabbed the hilts of my daggers. “I want revenge too. My brother did it. He did it all. He’s the one.”
Banderius shook the half-empty flask at me with such vigour that some wine sloshed to the floor. “Do you think I’m an uninformed idiot? I’ve watched Corwin from a distance for years. He has the most devious mind I’ve encountered.”
“You’ve met him?” Thord asked.
“Yes. I even taught him a few moves when he was younger. I thought he was malleable then, but I soon learned he was metal that would not bend. If I’d even guessed at half of what he would do, I’d have put a blade through his heart.”
“He killed the princeling,” I said. “He killed a child. And the old emperor too.”
“You have proof?” Banderius said.
“I know it in my heart.”
Banderius laughed. “Never ever trust your heart. But he deserves death many times over. Now is not the time to strike. Now is the time to hide in darkness and gather power.”
“So you’ll help us?” Megan asked. She took a step toward him.
He leaned back and put one hand behind his head. “Will you help me? That’s the more important question.”
“Yes!” I said. I also moved closer and set my feet in a fighting stance, as if to prove my words. “Yes. I will help you and any others who want to strike Corwin and the emperor down. I will. I swear it.”
“Whoa!” Banderius held up his flask. “Hold up. Do you want us to fly to Akkadium and deal death left and right and then plunge a blade right through your brother’s heart?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“How impetuous you youth can be. But you have misread my words. That is not the kind of help I was asking for. Did you happen to bring money?”
“Money?” Megan spat out.
“Yes, gold. Rubies. Gems. Or something of value. Ancient scrolls with spells on them. Do you have anything of worth at all?”
“We have to pay you to save us?” I asked. “What about the Red Blood Oath? It’s a guild oath!”
Banderius snorted. “The fortress where I first swore that oath is gone. The people who witnessed me swear it are dead. So the oath is dead.” He motioned at the crumbling hearth in front of him, at the broken table and cracked chairs. “I once lived in my own palace and had a hundred servants. Now I hide like a rat in a stone box. Did you dream we’d all march off to some haven with me as your … your father figure? Wrapping you up in my fatherly arms.”
“You swore an oath,” I repeated.
“Again, I ask, how will you pay?” He glugged down more wine and waved his hand as though waving us away. “It doesn’t matter. You could never, ever pay enough.” He spoke to someone over his shoulder. “You can have them now. I’ve done my part.”
At first nothing happened. Then heavy footsteps as eight men in chain mail came from behind a broken wall — they’d been waiting there silently all along. They moved with precision and purpose. Each was holding a loaded crossbow.
But the one in the lead, with no weapon at all, was the first to walk into the firelight.
It was Corwin. And he was smiling wide enough to show his teeth.
Chapter 21
Not Like Cleaning Stables
“Sister, you are really, really hard to kill,” Corwin said. “I thought you dead after I pushed you over that wall. I’m used to the people I’ve killed staying dead.”
I moved a hand toward my daggers, but the Immortals raised their crossbows higher, making it clear I’d be full of bolts before I touched the hilt. I put up my hands, palms out.
“Wise choice,” Corwin said. “And Megan and Thord, my dear classmates, it is a pleasure to see you.”
“The feeling is not mutual,” Megan said. But both she and Thord were holding their hands up.
“And you, my friend,” Corwin said to Banderius. “I’d say you laid it on a little thick with the I’d like to stab Corwin part, but otherwise this was really great work.”
“Easy work.” Banderius shook his head. “Too easy.” He turned his baleful eyes toward me and said, “I was the one who killed the emperor’s child.”
“You did?” I said.
He tried to hold my gaze, but looked away. “Yes. I was promised a province of my own. There is a price for everything.”
“Maestru Alesius would be so ashamed of you.” I continued to glare at him.
Banderius shrugged but still wouldn’t look me in the eye.
“The infant’s death was a necessary s
tep and helped prove Banderius’s loyalty,” Corwin explained. “Oh, and it wiped all of his gambling debts clean.” Corwin winked at me. “I killed the old emperor, in case you’re keeping track, sister. Also a necessary step.”
“We were taught to have morals,” I said. “To do our jobs but not seek personal glory or power.”
Corwin laughed. “Morals are useless in the real world. The real world is one of calculations and plans. Emperor Sargon first got rid of the wizards. Now, the assassins will be gone. He will be safe from all enemies.”
“Will he be safe from you?” I asked.
“Oh, that’s a good question!” Corwin rubbed his hands together. “He knows I’d never want his crown, because being an emperor is a thankless position. I much prefer being the emperor’s right-hand knife.”
“You’re sick,” I spat.
“I’m a realist,” he answered. “And realists always win.”
I’d slowly backed away, sliding my feet to hide the movement. Both Thord and Megan, too, had taken a few steps backwards. It was a very natural thing to do with several crossbows pointed at us. But it also brought us next to the hole in the wall.
If we jumped, we’d be a pile of broken bones on the hard ground below. And it wasn’t like we could send a message to our mounts. But I had to try. I cleared my throat and was about to attempt a hoot.
“If you make a shout or a whistle, you’re dead,” Corwin said. He stepped toward us. He didn’t get too close, which meant he was still wary. He knew any one of us could have vials of acid or other tricks up our sleeves.
“How is Gregum’s face?” I asked.
“So that was you?” Corwin said. “You’ll get to see his face soon enough. And his fists.”
My dragon eye suddenly hurt and I saw the room as a pattern of glowing lights, with each person standing there glowing, too. The sharp pain made me stumble back a step, and Megan caught me. This allowed a little more distance between us and our enemies.
I rubbed until my eye cleared.
“Yes. That’s what’s different,” Corwin said. “You have also grown an eye. How splendid!” He pinched his chin as if deep in thought. “I’d like to know how that came about and how you fell down a mountain and climbed out alive. I must have an answer to that, even if I have to pluck the eye out myself. So you’re going to live for a time, Carmen.” He let out a fake sad sigh. “But your companions are of no further use. Banderius, kill them.”