Jemeryl laughed. “I did say.”
“But you can’t expect...” Tevi’s voice died.
Two bodies lay on the ground nearby. Their clothes were burnt and their skin and hair was charred black, but it was easy to see that they had died with their arms around each other. Or, in the case of one of the bodies, an arm and a severed stump. Tevi bent down and turned them over gently.
Where their faces had been protected from fire by the other’s head, Ranenok and Kharel were still recognisable.
“Kharel foresaw that she would not outlive Bykoda by long,” Jemeryl said softly.
Tevi stood up and looked around the carnage of the battlefield. Smoke drifted across the scene from burning bracken, although most of the fire had gone out in the damp grass. “I wonder where Dunarth is.”
“Either dead or running.”
A rush of wind grew loud. They turned around as a dragon swooped low across the hillside. It banked over where Mavek’s body lay and then came back towards them and slowed. The back draft of its wings whipped up a blinding cloud of ash. When Tevi could see again, Shard was standing before her on the scorched grass.
The dragon lowered its head closer to Tevi. “I said you’d understand in the end.”
“It wouldn’t have hurt if you’d explained it better in the beginning.”
“It wasn’t necessary, and I didn’t know how.”
“And you left your arrival to the last minute.”
“I thought humans appreciated dramatic timing.”
“In stories, but not when we’re about to lose an arm.”
“But you didn’t.” The dragon turned to Jemeryl. “You can call me Shard as well if you want.”
“Um...thank you.” Jemeryl looked bemused.
“You’re going to take it away?”
“Yes.”
Shard stared at Jemeryl for a long time. Its neck twisted left and right, as if it wanted to view her from several angles. “I don’t generally like sorcerers. You can never be completely sure of them, but I think that you’re going to be all right.”
“Sorcerers don’t generally like dragons. And I don’t know if I want to form a judgement on you yet.”
“If you wait until morning, some of the horses will make their way back here. That will mean you can get to Uzhenek and away more quickly. I want it gone.” The dragon looked again at Tevi. “You can keep the armour I gave you. We won’t meet again.”
Shard spread its wings and sprung upwards. The other dragons swooped around it and then together they swung off towards the northwest. The sun was setting as the flight of dragons faded into small dots above the horizon.
Tevi shaded her eyes to watch them vanish. “They don’t go in for big emotional good-byes, do they?”
Chapter Seventeen—The Coven at Lyremouth
Seated at a window, high in the Guardian’s tower, Tevi rested her head against the glass and looked down on the scene outside. Billows of soft drizzle were sweeping across Lyremouth harbour. The sounds of the city were muted in the damp air. The sea was leaden. Even the surf looked grey in the fading light. Pennants on the ship’s masts flapped soggily. The view was not exactly cheery, but Tevi found it very relaxing and safe.
The noise of a door opening drew her eyes away from the harbour. A row of senior sorcerers filed into the hallway from the chamber beyond and proceeded towards the exit. Three of them frowned at Tevi disapprovingly as they passed by, but most ignored her. Only one gave a friendly nod of recognition.
The Coven authorities did not approve of relationships between their members and the ungifted. Some of the senior sorcerers clearly felt that Tevi was a problem that should be dealt with in some way. Fortunately, Gilliart, the elected leader of the Coven, did not share the view. But regardless of what even the Guardian might want, Tevi was a free citizen with the right to life and justice, and she could not be simply disposed of.
More than anything else it symbolised to Tevi the difference between the Protectorate and Bykoda’s Empire. There, Jemeryl’s refusal to give her up would be seen as the problem. In the Protectorate, Tevi could be a problem in her own right.
Jemeryl was the last in the line of sorcerers. Her expression was pensive, but it changed to a smile at the sight of Tevi waiting. She wandered to the window and also took a seat, shifting sideways to face her.
“You could have come to the meeting,” Jemeryl said, once the last of the seniors had gone from the hallway.
“I got the feeling that some didn’t want me there.”
“True, some didn’t. But Gilliart was quite happy, and with the Guardian on your side the rest don’t matter much.”
Tevi shrugged. “I wouldn’t have understood most of what was said, and I’ve had quite enough of talking to sorcerers recently.”
“Me included?”
“That depends on what you want to say.” Tevi grinned as she spoke.
Jemeryl countered the teasing with mock-seriousness. “I could tell you what was discussed at the meeting.”
By way of answer, Tevi gave an exaggerated groan of despair. Since their return to Lyremouth, they had been dragged through a succession of debriefings, private interviews, reviews, and interrogations where a dozen different people all wanted to know the same things. Why not have just one big meeting with everyone there and get it all over with at once?
This last meeting had dealt with plans for exploring the talisman’s design. Tevi had been informed that she did not need to attend because there was nothing that she could contribute. While this was probably true, the condescending delivery of the message had irritated Tevi and she had almost decided to go out of perversity, but in the end, she could not face another four hours of tedious debate.
“Oh, go on. You want to know what was said,” Jemeryl said, teasing.
“Do I?”
Jemeryl wrinkled her nose. “Well, maybe not. It was mainly a lot of manoeuvring about who’s going to be in the group that reviews the proposals for suggested research strategy. I’m sure you’d have understood most of what went on. There was more politics than magic.”
“I’ll try to live with my regrets at missing it.”
“The only thing everyone agreed on was that nothing should be done until we understand the risks. It will be years before anyone is allowed to touch the talisman. Maybe never. Some seers have made a preliminary examination and agree that it would definitely rupture if anyone tried to use it.” Jemeryl’s expression became troubled and her head dropped. “I haven’t told anyone that I was about to.”
“You might not have.”
“I was—”
“You can’t say for certain. Even without overhearing the news about me, you might have changed your mind before any damage had been done.”
“But—”
Tevi leaned forwards and took Jemeryl’s hand. “No buts. There isn’t a person alive who couldn’t be pushed into doing something awful by the wrong set of circumstances. Guilt or innocence can be a question of luck. You don’t have to confess to what you might have done if things had been different.”
“What about attacking Mavek?”
“All right. Own up to that if you want.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“They all agreed it would have been better if I hadn’t, but nobody seemed overly upset on his behalf.”
“He’d embarked on a course that could destroy the world. Are you surprised it lost him sympathy?”
“But he didn’t succeed. Doesn’t the hypothetical innocence apply to him as well?”
“Are you determined to beat yourself up over this?”
Jemeryl pouted like a three-year-old. “You said you’d let me wallow in guilt when we got back here.”
“Um...I did, didn’t I?” Tevi sighed in exasperation, but then she caught Jemeryl’s eye and smiled. “Anything else of interest?”
“One thing that could affect us. A delegation from Horzt arrived yesterday. They’re petitioning to join the
Protectorate.”
“Horzt? I thought they were all for independence.”
“It’s amazing what effect an infestation of dragons can have. Now that the northern plains are overrun, the people of Horzt are having second thoughts about wanting protection.”
The innocent remark gave an uncomfortable jab to Tevi’s conscience. She grimaced and looked out the window.
“That worries you?” Jemeryl asked.
“Not Horzt itself, but I wanted to protect the people in Uzhenek. I know I never claimed that I could, but I felt responsible.”
“You saved them from Mavek’s army and from him getting the talisman.”
“But now their lives are ruined.”
“That’s open to argument. Uzhenek will be abandoned, which is no bad thing. The people will go back to being nomadic hunters. I’m sure that when they talk about the old times, they’ll romanticise Bykoda’s reign, but I don’t know if they’ll be any less happy than before.”
“Except they’ve got dragons killing and eating them.”
“It won’t happen often. Dragons aren’t really that keen on eating people. We tend to wear indigestible bits of metal and stuff. Plus there isn’t as much meat on us as there is on wild cattle and deer, and there’s enough wildlife on the plains to share. Hunters can co-exist with dragons quite well. The only time we get into conflict is when it comes to gold.”
“Shard had quite a hoard.”
“Dragons love gold and gems. Maybe it’s because they don’t decay or age. For a dragon they’re one thing that never changes in its life view. Perhaps the consistency gives them stability. Whatever the reason, they’ll do anything to collect it. Which is another reason Horzt wants to join the Protectorate. Most of Horzt’s money comes from trade over the pass. Merchants carry gold, so until something comes along to drive the dragons away, caravans will be taking other routes. With less money coming their way, Horzt won’t have to pay so much in taxes to the Coven.”
“And you said it might affect us?”
“If Horzt joins the Protectorate, they’ll need a town sorcerer. If I want the post, then Gilliart has said it’s mine for the asking. I have experience of the plains. And I know the characters left over from Bykoda’s regime.”
Tevi studied Jemeryl’s face. She could tell that something was bothering her lover. “Do you want it?”
“Do you?”
“It isn’t me who’ll be taking the post.”
“But would you mind?”
“Why should I?”
“Because, when we went to Tirakhalod, it was all my idea. And I know that you didn’t enjoy it. It doesn’t seem fair if I get to say where we go next.”
Tevi turned her head again to look out the window. A rain-swept dusk was falling over the sea. Given the choice, where would she go? She had been exiled from the island of her birth, but she had never felt that she belonged there anyway. Lyremouth was all right, but it did not feel like home, and nowhere else had any sort of claim on her at all. She looked back to Jemeryl.
“If Horzt joins the Protectorate, then the mercenary’s guild will be setting up a proper guild house in the town. Like you, I know the northern plains. And I’ve ridden on a dragon. I’m sure the guild would be very happy to offer me a permanent job. Maybe even deputy guild master. But however it goes, it won’t be like Tirakhalod.”
“And you’ll be happy?”
“Of course, because I’ll be in the only place I really want to be.”
“Where? Horzt?”
“No. By your side.”
Appendix
The Legend of the Witch’s Demon and The Death of Bycoda
As told by the hunters of the Northern Plains
Long, long ago, this land was ruled by a great sorcerer called Bycoda, who was as wise as she was virtuous. Her Empire was a time of peace and plenty for all. Famine was unknown. Fair, well-appointed cities and mighty castles graced the land. The people passed their days in ease and contentment, protected by Bycoda’s brave captains, who were all wielders of great magic in their own right. They rode far and wide with the soldiers of her army, enforcing her laws and protecting her subjects from harm.
Bycoda held court at the palace of Tiracholon. Eternal summer reigned over the lofty towers of her home. The scent of blossom was forever carried on sweet winds, and the sounds of music and laughter filled the air. Never have a people been so fortunate, and all this was Bycoda’s doing. Her people’s love for her was such that any would have gladly died for her sake.
Yet this blessed time was doomed to end. Far to the south, in the foothills of the Barrodens, lived an embittered, solitary witch, called Yemeril. She loved no one and no one loved her. Each day she went about her business, gathering herbs and bones, and cursing anyone who crossed her path, although folk avoided her whenever they could.
One day, it happened that Yemeril went in search of a rare plant, and she wandered far from her normal paths. At nightfall, she was many miles from home, and so she lay down to sleep beneath the shelter of a twisted old yew tree.
Now, Yemeril knew it not, but this yew was the home of a shape-shifting demon, named Teir-Varek. That night, the demon took the form of a beautiful woman and lay beside Yemeril and seduced not only her body but also her mind. Although, in truth, this was no great feat, for the witch’s unfriendly ways had left her apt for mischief.
Many days and nights passed as Yemeril stayed at the yew tree with her demon lover. And when they were not satisfying their desires, they spoke idly of many things, as lovers will. In this, the demon had the most to impart, for her travels in the netherworld had granted her much secret information. Amid the stories, Teir-Varek told of a talisman owned by Bycoda that allowed the wielder to command the allegiance of dragons.
“Oh, my love,” said Yemeril when she heard this. “If only we had that talisman. Then the whole world would bow down before us, and we could live as Queens.”
“Why should it not be ours?” the demon replied. “All it would take is firm resolve and a little guile.”
So the pair plotted to take the talisman from Bycoda. At last, when their plans were complete, Yemeril left the mountains and travelled north to Tiracholon. Once there, she went to Bycoda and made a show of friendship.
“Noble Empress,” Yemeril said, smiling to conceal her intent. “I have come from a land far away, yet even there, stories of your wisdom are told. Therefore I am here in the spirit of sisterhood, that we might share our knowledge, for I also am greatly skilled in the magical arts.”
“Then as a sister you will be welcome in my halls,” Bycoda replied.
And so, for many months, they spoke together of matters arcane, revealing the magical knowledge they had acquired.
One day, as the two were talking of the many perils that lay beyond the borders of the realm, Yemeril said, “Dear Bycoda, I wonder that you are so well able to defend your Empire.”
“That is due to my brave captains, who lead my army against all monsters and villains who would harm my people.”
“Perhaps in this I may assist you. I know of a great warrior who would willingly join your captains in protecting your land. Furthermore, she is dear to my heart, and it would bring me joy to have her close beside me.”
“Then you should summon her forthwith, and I will grant her the rank of captain in my army, and show her fitting honour, for your sake.”
By these means, did the demon, Teir-Varek, gain access to the palace. And ably did she fulfil her role of captain, for she had the strength of a dozen men, although in all other ways she disguised her true nature and appeared as an ordinary mortal.
Another year passed while the two plotters remained in Tiracholon, until they judged that it was time to move on with their evil scheme. Then Yemeril went to Bycoda and said, “I have seen how your captains battle with ordinary dangers, but how is it that no dragons assail your lands? Surely your captains, no matter how brave, could not defeat such powerful foes.”
“T
he dragons stay away by my command,” replied Bycoda. “For I have a talisman that can bind them to obey my will.”
“But where do you keep the talisman, dear Empress? For surely it is open to misuse and must be kept safe.”
“Indeed. It is kept in a chest at the foot of my bed, that may not be opened by any manner of magic, and the one key I keep on a chain about my neck.” With these innocent words, Bycoda forfeited her own life, for now the plotters knew they must murder her in order to take the talisman.
Now, Bycoda had the custom that twice a year she held a great festival in her palace, when all her captains and nobles came to do her honour. At these gatherings, the feasting and revelry would last from daybreak until sunset. Music would fill the hall to the rafters, and the fountains in the gardens ran with sweet wine.
As the time for the spring gathering approached, Teir-Varek spoke thus with the witch. “My love, the time for us to act draws near. We should kill Bycoda and take her talisman on the night of the festival when all her supporters are assembled in Tiracholon.”
“But surely this is the worst time, when she is surrounded by her loyal attendants,” Yemeril said.
“No. For she will think herself secure, and her guard will be unwary.”
Yemeril was afraid and asked, “How shall we kill her? For I have spent much time with her. I have seen that she is a mighty sorcerer, and I do not think we can defeat her, even if we join our powers.”
“Again, we will use guile. Did you not know that I have made a great study of poisons? I will give you one that will end Bycoda’s life in an instant.”
“Suppose she will not drink it?”
“She will not need to. It is a venom so potent that one small scratch from a coated pin will cause her death. Wait until after Bycoda retires at the end of the festivities and go to her room. Her followers will have drunk themselves witless and will not be alert. Say you have brought her a brooch as a gift. When you give it to her, pierce her skin with the pin, as if in accident, and that will be enough.”
So the treacherous plan was agreed, and on the evening of the festival, Yemeril went alone to Bycoda’s chamber with the poisoned brooch.
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