Bryan nodded. ‘It’s possible. In which case, all you can do is make a list of the people who’ve joined you in Darkhaven since Lord Myrren’s death. If they’re Helmsmen, don’t assign them to Lady Ayla’s guard. If they’re servants, keep them on duties that don’t require them to attend her. And stay vigilant.’
‘All I can do,’ Caraway echoed. ‘You know, I don’t like this. Being on the defensive. I’d far rather there was some way to attack.’
Bryan grinned. ‘That’s because you’re straightforward. We’ll think of something, boyo. In the meantime, I’ll keep my eye on the new recruits. And if you come along to the first day of training tomorrow, you can too.’
After Caraway had gone, Bryan got on with his own tasks, but without much accuracy. Though he’d presented a positive front to the captain, he was distracted and alarmed by the possibility of an assassination attempt – because the consequences of a successful assassination would be dire. Mirrorvale and Sol Kardis would go to war. Hundreds, maybe thousands of people would die. And although Mirrorvale hadn’t been officially at war since Bryan was born, he’d seen enough men killed during his time as a border patrolman that he’d do anything he could to stop it now.
Besides … on a personal level, the weaponmasters would be among the first called to take a leading role in any conflict. Aside from the patrolmen, who watched over the borders and so were necessarily the first line of defence, the warriors who worked in the fifth ring were the closest thing that Mirrorvale had to an army. Who else was there? The Helm’s role was to protect Darkhaven and its overlord. The city watch had a basic level of ability with weaponry, but tended to be the kind of people who didn’t have the potential for more rigorous training. And the rest … sellswords, personal guards, merchant crews and bargemen. They were good fighters, no doubt about it, but they weren’t used to working alongside each other. It would be the weaponmasters who were called upon to marshal them into something approximating the kind of army that Sol Kardis had at its disposal.
Not for the first time, Bryan found himself thinking that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to rely wholly on the Nightshade overlords as a deterrent against invading forces. An indestructible Changer creature was still only a single person, when it came down to it. And a destructible one …
Finally, he gave up on his paperwork and set it aside with a half-hearted resolution to do it later. He was just about to head out to the yard to check the sign-up sheet when someone knocked on the door, then pushed it open without waiting for an answer.
Damn students. Think they can just – But Bryan’s bellow died unvoiced when he saw Ayla Nightshade standing on his scuffed wooden floor. Behind her, a sheepish-looking Helmsman lurked in the doorway.
Bryan didn’t really see the point of the guard. It wasn’t as if the poor man could do anything to defend against a pistol-wielding assassin, unless said assassin were incompetent enough to stand up and announce his presence before firing. Really Ayla ought to stay within the tower until the threat was neutralised. Still, he’d be damned if he was going to be the one to tell her that.
‘Good morning, ma’am,’ he said with a stiff nod.
‘I need your help,’ the overlord of Darkhaven said, unconsciously echoing Caraway’s words from earlier. ‘This assassination business –’
Bryan wondered uneasily whether he was already meant to know about it. Caraway hadn’t said his visit was a secret, but he’d certainly given the impression that elements of his plan to combat the threat were not to be widely shared. Such as, for instance, the continued involvement of the woman who’d removed Ayla’s half-brother from Darkhaven.
‘I’m sure Tomas has told you all about it,’ Ayla said, and Bryan gave in to the inevitable. Beats me how he ever keeps anything from her.
‘He did mention it, ma’am, yes.’
‘And no doubt the two of you have come up with various schemes that are none of my concern.’
Bryan shifted uncomfortably. ‘I wouldn’t put it that way myself, but the Helm –’
His voice trailed into silence. Damn Nightshades. Ayla eyed him in silence, before her expression softened.
‘I know Helm business is not my business. I don’t care what the two of you are planning; I’m sure Tomas will tell me anything I need to know. But your plans are not enough.’
Bryan opened his mouth to contradict her – in the most tactful way possible, of course – but she shook her head.
‘I mean for me, personally. This is a threat to my life, yet there’s nothing I can do to stop it. Tomas has taught me to defend myself, a little, but against a pistol …’
She stopped, biting her lip, and for perhaps the first time he saw her as wholly human. He opened his mouth again, planning to say something comforting, but again she got in first.
‘I can’t sit up in Darkhaven doing nothing about it. I know Tomas, and the Helm, and you are my best possible defence. But if somehow this assassin slips through the net, I need to be ready for him. And so I was wondering …’ She glanced down at her hands, locked tightly together, and then back up at his face. ‘I was wondering if your partner might be willing to help me.’
Dumbfounded, Bryan stared at her. She stared back. Finally he gathered his wits enough to say faintly, ‘Who, Miles?’
‘We all know there’s no armour that can defend against a pistol,’ Ayla said. ‘Not even Changer hide is thick enough to shield me from a bullet. But if brute force won’t do the job, I thought perhaps alchemy …’
It had never occurred to Bryan that alchemy might be of any use in defence. If he were honest, he’d never really thought it had any practical use at all. Miles might talk with great passion about strengthening metals and sharpening blades and making things explode, but that’s all it had ever been. Talk. Bryan had yet to see any of the alchemists’ grandiose ideas come to fruition.
‘After all,’ Ayla added, ‘it is the same power that runs through my veins. We have alchemy in our blood; that’s what makes the Change possible. So if there’s any science that can find a solution to my current vulnerability …’
Changers were powered by alchemy: that was a new one on Bryan. But then, he’d never much concerned himself with how the Nightshade line worked. Like the force of nature he’d compared them to earlier, they just were. He forced himself to meet Ayla’s expectant gaze.
‘I’ll talk to Miles this evening. Ask him to attend you at the tower tomorrow. Will that be soon enough?’
‘That should be fine.’ She offered him a smile. ‘Thank you, Art.’
Bryan was rendered speechless again; he hadn’t realised she knew his first name. She further confounded him by taking one of his hands between both of hers.
‘You know, I never found a moment to speak to you before. Tomas told me it was you who let him through the fifth ring when Travers kidnapped me, three years ago. If it hadn’t been for your intervention …’ Her fingers tightened. ‘Anyway, I’m grateful. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, Lady Ayla,’ he managed. Then, before he’d stopped to think, ‘You’re more like your brother than I realised.’
Her face changed in an instant, sorrow and yearning washing over it in a relentless tide. He tried to retreat, muttering half-formed words of apology, but her grip on his hand remained firm.
‘You trained him, didn’t you?’ she whispered. ‘Can you tell me?’
‘I’m sure you knew him far better than –’ he began, only to be cut off by a shake of her head.
‘I never saw him fight. I asked to be allowed to train alongside him, but my father … Anyway, it was a side of him I didn’t know, and I want to. Please.’
‘He was the most talented swordsman I ever taught,’ Bryan said softly. ‘He was … driven, in a way no-one else was. He could take on anyone in the fifth ring – and I tell you, some of the sellswords who stop by are vicious buggers. Er. Pardon my language. But Lord Myrren was better than the best of them. Polite, too, not like some of the cocky bast— um, type
s we get here. Maybe when you’re that good you don’t need arrogance. I don’t know. To me it always seemed –’ Bryan hesitated, before finishing the thought. ‘It always seemed he was looking for something.’
‘Yes.’ Finally Ayla let go of his hand. Tears shone in her eyes, but her jaw was set in fury. ‘You know, Weaponmaster Bryan, if he hadn’t killed our father then I’d be bloody tempted to do it myself.’
And with that startling statement, she was gone, her guard scuttling in her wake. Bryan watched the door swing on its hinges. He thought he understood where she was coming from, but all the same …. Nightshades. Force of nature. He didn’t envy Caraway one bit.
On his way out of the training hall, he almost mowed down a girl. She staggered back from the force of the impact, lips parted in surprise.
‘Watch where you’re going, girlie,’ Bryan said, though without any heat – his thoughts still lingering on everything that Caraway and Ayla had said to him. The girl tucked a strand of dark-red hair behind one ear and blinked up at him.
‘Sorry. I – am I too late to sign up for training? Only someone told me last night that it closed today, and I didn’t know whether he meant morning or evening, but I thought I’d better come and see in case I still had a chance …’
She didn’t look like a warrior, or sound like one for that matter, but Bryan had learned not to judge anyone until he saw them with a weapon in their hands. He could tell a seasoned fighter, all right – even at a distance – but trainees … after the number of times he’d seen a promising-looking lad become stiff and awkward with a sword in his hands, or a gangly youth transform into something far more impressive as soon as he was armed, Bryan’s only rule about trainees was that it was impossible to tell a damn thing about them just by looking. So he simply jerked a thumb in the direction of the training hall door.
‘I was just about to take it down. Go ahead and add your name if you want to.’
‘Thank you!’ She had a pretty smile. Pretty girl in general, Bryan thought with detachment. She’d turn some of the lads’ heads. And it would do them good, because they had to learn not to let themselves be distracted. The best warriors he’d taught weren’t put off by anything, be it bruises or taunts or an attractive face.
He let her sign the sheet and move away, before unpinning it and scanning the list. Inevitably his gaze snagged on the final name – and then he noticed that she hadn’t just signed up for basic training.
‘Saydi!’ he called after her, in too much of a hurry to use girlie or any of his other usual epithets. ‘Did you mean to sign up for the Helm assessment programme?’
She glanced back over her shoulder. ‘Oh, definitely, sir. If I’m going to do it at all, I might as well do it properly.’
Bryan grunted a reply and let her go. He’d spotted another girl’s name at the top of the list. He was used to training female warriors, of course, but attempting to join the Helm? That had never happened before. And not one but two of them. Bryan’s face split into an evil grin, thoughts of the assassination threat temporarily flown from his mind as he imagined Caraway’s reaction.
This was going to be interesting.
SEVEN
To Naeve Sorrow, care of Elisse Mallory, Caltor, Sol Kardis:
My thanks for your letter. I assume from its contents that you are close to some well-informed people. As such, I would be most grateful for any further news of this kind.
Of course, it would be a dangerous undertaking. But you are well known for dangerous work. And I think, perhaps, you owe it to my employer.
As for her brother: if what you tell me is correct, he had better come home sooner rather than later. If necessary, I will fetch him myself.
With respect, if not admiration,
T.C.
‘I don’ get it,’ Elisse said. ‘If he knows where I live, why hasn’ he sent the Helm ta take Corus?’
Sorrow lowered the letter far enough to look at her over the top of it. The dark-haired woman sat very upright in her chair, arms folded, but her eyes betrayed her unease. At her feet, three-year-old Corus played with a wooden horse.
‘It wouldn’t be easy,’ Sorrow told her. It was a relief to speak her native language again; that was one of the things she liked about visiting Elisse. One of the many things. ‘He’d have to do it by stealth, else the Kardise could accuse Mirrorvale of sending troops across the border.’
‘So why –’
‘It’s just his way of letting me know he can find you, if he wants to.’
‘Yeah, and I don’ like it!’ Elisse said. ‘He’s talking about us going back ta Mirrorvale. I thought we were safe here, Naeve.’
Sorrow shrugged. ‘Times are changing. The Kardise are going after Ayla Nightshade directly. And if they succeed at that, you can be sure they won’t hesitate to dispatch her relatives.’
‘But –’
‘Listen, Elisse.’ Sorrow leaned forward. ‘If they find out about Corus, they’ll take him away from you. Execution if Ayla dies, bargaining chip if she lives. Either way, it doesn’t end well for you. Whereas if you return to Mirrorvale on your own terms –’
‘Mama?’ Corus was tugging on Elisse’s sleeve, eyes wide. Hair even darker than his mother’s, skin even fairer, and those deep, deep blue eyes: one glance at him and virtually anyone in the world would be able to make a good guess at his origins. ‘Who’s gonna take me away?’
‘No-one, sweetheart,’ Elisse said fiercely. Sorrow met her glare and sighed.
‘I’m on your side. You know that. But the balance of risks has tilted the other way. If I do a bit of spying for Caraway, I daresay he’ll be open to bargaining with you about Corus’s future. But even if he isn’t …’ She hesitated only a heartbeat before saying the words Elisse didn’t want to hear. ‘Being forced to live in Darkhaven has got to be better than being used as a disposable tool by your country’s opposition.’
‘Yeah, but the Kardise don’ even know he exists. Do they?’
‘I didn’t think they did,’ Sorrow said. ‘But now, I wouldn’t count on anything.’
Elisse was silent for a long while, looking down at the top of her son’s bowed head. Then she lifted her troubled blue gaze to Sorrow’s face. ‘What should I do, Naeve?’
Sorrow suppressed another sigh. It wasn’t that Elisse was weak, or needy – far from it. In fact, Sorrow was constantly surprised at her resilience in the face of the many challenges that confronted her as a single parent in a strange country. But the other woman had an almost religious belief in Sorrow’s own capabilities. As far as Elisse was concerned, Sorrow had all the answers. And it wasn’t as if Sorrow minded that, exactly. It just left her feeling constantly as if she had something to live up to. Before she’d met Elisse, no-one had ever expected anything of her.
Not anything good, anyway.
Elisse was different. Elisse didn’t seem to care what Sorrow did for a living. Elisse teased her and confided in her and trusted her to help look after a small child. And that was why Sorrow kept coming back. Sometimes without warning. Sometimes not for months at a time. But all the same, she came back.
Despite the many reasons why it shouldn’t work, they were a team. And that was why any decision Sorrow made had to involve Elisse as well.
‘We have two choices,’ she said. ‘We can leave now. Tonight. Flee back to Mirrorvale – or to another country, I suppose, though Parovia isn’t exactly Mirrorvale’s greatest ally either, and the Ingal States are dangerous for different reasons. Anyway, you might be able to live for a few more years in peace, somewhere in the wilds of Mirrorvale, before Caraway finds you again. Though since he tracked you here, I wouldn’t bet on it.
‘Or, we stay for a little longer. I try and obtain the information Caraway wants. And then we return to Mirrorvale, and use that information as leverage to agree a future for Corus that both you and the Nightshades can live with.’
‘S’not much of a choice,’ Elisse said. ‘Either cling ta safety, knowing it could end an
y time, or gamble with all our lives for the chance ta extend it.’ She looked at Sorrow, biting her lip. ‘Spying’ud be dangerous for ya. If they caught ya –’
‘They won’t catch me if I’m cautious,’ Sorrow said. ‘Believe me, I won’t risk my life for Tomas Caraway’s sake.’ Though maybe I would for yours, she didn’t add. Apart from anything else, she wasn’t yet sure if it were true. Almost sure, but not quite.
‘I don’t think they know where you are,’ she said instead. ‘Otherwise they’d have moved in on you by now. A child of Darkhaven would be too valuable a tool for them to leave unguarded.’
Elisse glanced down at her son again; one hand rested briefly on his hair. ‘We didn’ think Caraway knew where I was, either.’
‘True. Like I said, I wouldn’t count on anything.’ Sorrow studied the other woman’s face, searching for some indication of her decision. ‘So what do you want to do?’
Elisse reached a hand across the table as if it were inevitable that Sorrow should offer her comfort; after a moment, Sorrow took it. They sat in silence for a bit, while Corus sang a tuneless and half-formed song at their feet. Then Elisse looked up and attempted a smile.
‘Not sure yet. But I’m glad ya here.’
Later, they went for a walk in the cottage grounds. Corus ran ahead, hiding and climbing and picking up anything that looked interesting, whilst Elisse showed Sorrow what had changed since her last visit. The autumn crop was coming along nicely, squash and beans and tomatoes in their rows. Elisse had fixed the loose stone in the flight of steps that led to the upper garden, and a new woven barrier of green branches blocked the hole in the hedgerow where the cow had once got stuck earlier that year. All very domestic and satisfactory, yet Sorrow found herself paying less attention to Elisse’s words and more to her surroundings.
The cottage crouched halfway down a hill, on a little patch of land carved out from the slope. Behind it, the meadow that held the cow and a few chickens fell steeply down to a stream at the bottom; above it, the walled vegetable patch and the smaller bramble meadow were reached up a short flight of stone steps. A dirt track ran past one side of the building, the way out to the nearby village and civilisation beyond, but other than that it was completely surrounded by trees. No-one came here unless they meant to; there was no passing traffic on foot or on wheel, and the steep wooded hill concealed it from above, too. It was hidden. Safe.
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