Scrivener's Tale

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘Tamas …’

  He kissed her again. This time for a long, loving while. Their lips felt pleasantly bruised when they finally parted and they grinned helplessly.

  ‘Are we mad?’ she said. ‘I feel so guilty.’

  ‘Madly in love perhaps,’ he offered, giving her a way out of her guilt. ‘No demons. We have enough of those in our midst — you don’t need them in your mind. Darcelle is dead. You did nothing to provoke her death. And I find myself helpless in your presence. I fought it, Florentyna. When you glided down those stairs outside Stoneheart, I thought my heart would stop from the pain of seeing you again — so composed and gracious … and generous to a neighbouring sovereign. I had to mask my feelings, frightened that Darcelle would guess how I felt about you.’

  Florentyna put his hand against her damp cheek. ‘How silly we are, both avoiding each other. If only I’d known.’

  ‘I could say the same. Maybe fate has stepped in again.’

  ‘I don’t want to think like that. I loved Darcelle and I wanted only happiness for her.’

  ‘It showed. You were magnanimous toward both of us. Never doubt that.’

  Florentyna threw her arms around her king. ‘Tamas, I love you. Hold me, promise me we’re going to be safe. I want a life with you.’

  He buried his head in her neck and kissed it gently. ‘I promise you, Florentyna, with all of my heart — which now belongs to you — that when this is done, I am going to marry you … make you my queen and, if you’ll allow, I shall proudly be your regent.’

  She searched his genial face, loving that she was in the arms of the man whom she had always dreamed of holding this close. ‘I love you.’

  Before Tamas could respond, a cry went up. They both swung around.

  ‘Riders!’ Tamas said. He squinted. ‘It’s Wentzl. Well, no time was wasted in our pursuit, your majesty.’

  They heard running up the stone stairs.

  ‘Ready?’ Florentyna nodded, not taking her eyes from his. ‘I love you,’ he whispered to her as Cassien and Ham burst into the tower.

  ‘It’s him, your majesties,’ Ham said, his eyes wide, his stare piercing. ‘I can feel it. Cass, the sword is screaming at us.’

  Cassien turned to the royals. ‘You’ve just got to trust us now. Listen to Ham. He will know what to do.’

  Florentyna nodded, frightened out of her wits and yet surprised by the calm that was flooding through her. She suspected it was the culmination of finally being able to tell Tamas how she had felt for most of her life, and especially to learn that he felt the same way. Whatever happened now, she wouldn’t die wondering or miserable in unrequited love.

  ‘Wait.’ Tamas looked beseechingly at Ham. ‘Are you sure it’s him?’

  ‘It’s him, your majesty. The sword tells me so. You have to trust it — me, Cassien, Gabe.’

  Tamas nodded, hung his head.

  ‘One more thing,’ Florentyna said, a finger in the air and look of fear on her face. ‘If Cassien does this — I mean his roaming magic — won’t it kill?’

  ‘The monks are now closeted in the refectory. They should be safe as it seems my magic does not pass through stone. It may kill animals.’

  She glanced into the valley and noted the chickens had been put away in their coop, the goats had disappeared. No men worked the fields. ‘And us?’

  Cassien shrugged. ‘Strictly speaking, you are within the walls of the monastery, and stone, I suspect, repels the killing nature of the roaming. However, you were immune last time. I asked Fynch. He said that since you survived it, you were invulnerable to the roaming magic’s killing way.’

  ‘Oh, that’s a relief,’ Tamas said wryly. ‘Just the rampaging, soul-snatching demon to worry about then.’

  Ham grinned, enjoying the gallows humour that Tamas seemed good at.

  ‘Ham — ready?’ Cassien urged.

  Florentyna watched the youngster nod gravely, heard him say ‘I am’, and then she saw Cassien draw the magnificent sword and heard it for the first time. It made a shrill ringing as it came free from its scabbard, as though eager to be loose, and she felt goosebumps on her skin at the sound. He kissed the blade before returning it to its sheath and then he shocked her by sitting down, his back against the stone of the tower.

  She looked at Tamas, confused, back at Cassien and Ham. ‘Cassien, what —’

  ‘Your majesties,’ Ham interrupted, ‘everything we do now is about protecting you, your crowns, the lives of your people, so let us do what we’ve been sent to —’

  Wentzl’s voice cut across Ham’s words. ‘Well, well, well. Queen Florentyna? King Tamas?’ he roared. ‘I hope you don’t think you can hide from me. I’m also sure you know this isn’t pathetic Captain Wentzl, although I think his body is very fine indeed … a lot like a man called Gabriel, whom you’d know as Layne Tentrell.’ Cyricus laughed in Wentzl’s familiar voice and it proved too much for Tamas to bear. He leapt forward to hang out over the tower’s window and brandish a fist at the man taunting him.

  ‘We know you, demon, and we will destroy you.’

  Wentzl was laughing with pure delight. ‘Destroy me? Oh dear, King Tamas. I’d love to know how you found out about me, but perhaps whoever your informant is hasn’t explained how incredibly strong I am. Combine that with Wentzl’s formidable fighting skills and this is the result. Sorry, Florentyna, I hope these men weren’t special in your life.’

  Florentyna joined Tamas at the window and saw the bodies of two men, one hanging upside down beside his horse’s legs, still trapped in the saddle, and the other splayed lifelessly on the ground. ‘They’re all special, Cyricus,’ she snarled, determined that her voice, her expression would not betray her despair. ‘You’ll pay for their lives.’

  His evident joy broadened. ‘Ah, your lovely majesty, there you are. I did enjoy being your sister but I had to leave her. I wonder, has Tamas mentioned that it was he who was the one who killed her?’ He made a tutting sound. ‘It was so vicious!’

  She didn’t blink. ‘And I thanked him for his courage, demon. Now she can rest in peace.’

  ‘Perhaps. If you can find the tattered remains of her corpse, your majesty, I’m sure they can be bundled into the family tomb. I’ll tell you what. I promise I’ll see to that when I take over your body — I’m not without my kindnesses.’

  ‘Go burn in Shar’s flames, Cyricus!’ Florentyna hurled down.

  Her rage appeared to thrill the demon. Wentzl leapt down from his horse. ‘I am so going to enjoy possessing you, your majesty, and using you to destroy your realm and your empire. Then we’ll take ships and go hunting the Cipreans, shall we?’

  ‘Over my dead body,’ Tamas roared.

  ‘That’s my intention, Tamas,’ Cyricus promised. ‘Now, let’s get this death and possession started, shall we?’

  THIRTY-SIX

  Cassien had looked at Ham, who’d given him a sad but reassuring nod. ‘We will tempt him, I promise. Go now, I will watch over you.’

  Ham leaned down and kissed his cheek. ‘I’ve opened the link. We’re all connected.’

  Cassien closed his eyes. Gabe?

  Let’s do this, he heard his elder brother say in his mind.

  Romaine?

  Here, Cassien, she said, and he knew she used Ham as a channel. For a moment he felt a twinge of jealousy that it was Ham who could speak to his wolf, but he let the petty thought go, as he also let go of his body.

  I love you. Look after Ham. He’ll need the forest.

  I know, she replied and then the link he felt with her became blurred as his link with Gabe intensified.

  It’s time, Cassien. Come into the Void now.

  His spirit soared; he didn’t know how to do what was being asked of him but he trusted Fynch. He hovered in the familiar weightlessness of his roaming magic and let his senses reach out.

  Now! he heard Gabe call and felt himself being dragged at speed. Colours, sounds, even smells hurtled by him in a dazzling rush of images.
He was disoriented, nauseated … as though the roaming sickness was already attacking him, but he told himself he was imagining it.

  In this form he felt no pain, no raging emotions, no … His thoughts halted. No pain? No raging emotions? Is that what Fynch had set up all along? He had made him immune in the flesh to most of the other weaknesses of man, so that he would be ready for this moment. Cassien didn’t need to ponder it to know this notion was true. He didn’t even feel sad for himself.

  Cassien could now feel a soft breeze; he could smell a familiar and not unpleasant aroma of slightly damp earth overlaid by a drifting scent of bitter almond, which he recognised as the sap of the colincal tree. Suddenly, the sense of movement stopped and his surrounds snapped into sharp focus.

  The forest! How could it be?

  Gabe?

  Hamelyn’s idea, came the answer, but not from Gabe. It was Romaine who spoke as she padded into the clearing where he stood.

  I have my body?

  Your younger brother is extremely clever … and cunning, she said. Meanwhile, your elder brother is an extraordinary talent.

  Gabe created this?

  Yes. Hamelyn worked out how to let him see the forest through my eyes. He only needed to view it once and he has re-created it.

  But where is the Void?

  You’re in it, Cassien. You see, Hamelyn reasoned that the Void, according to what Gabe told him, is an emptiness so dark, so mind-numbing that persuading Cyricus to revisit was a near impossible task. Fynch was counting on his arrogance and the Triad’s persuasiveness, but Gabe has been touched by the demon and he agreed with Ham that Cyricus was having far too much fun to want to return to the Void and risk entrapment. He’s too clever.

  Why will he come then?

  Hamelyn believes he can still be tricked, but we have to be cleverer than he can imagine us to be. Your brother feels that Cyricus will not consider that anyone has a more cunning mind than himself, so Hamelyn is counting on him making presumptions. If he doesn’t see the Void — as he knows it — he will not for a heartbeat suspect that we have access to it or have re-created the forest in the Void.

  Cassien was dumbstruck momentarily. Romaine waited, sensing that he was considering everything that she’d just revealed.

  You look real enough to touch, he said in wonder.

  I am. That’s the point. Gabe’s brilliant skill at re-creating means that I am ‘real enough’ when here. And so are you.

  I know, he said, awe in his tone.

  Gabe has reproduced you to perfection. Wherever you roam, this image moves with you.

  Can Gabe hear me?

  Yes, but I doubt he’s listening. It is taking almost all of his mind power to maintain this. Your brothers must bring Cyricus to us.

  Does Fynch know about this magical forest?

  No. Cassien, you realise Fynch is dying?

  He waited a moment to permit what he already knew — but had allowed himself to deny — to resonate. Yes.

  We can’t fail him.

  We won’t.

  Fynch might have believed Hamelyn’s idea to be too daring, too risk-laden. But Hamelyn insisted that unless we take the more daring path, the real risk is that we fail to entice Cyricus out of his mortal body at all.

  I agree.

  I won’t ask if you’re ready. You have been ready for a long time, Cassien.

  Bring Cyricus to me, he growled.

  And Romaine winked out of existence from the Void that masqueraded as the Great Forest.

  Ham watched Wentzl approach the monastery walls.

  ‘It’s now or never, your majesties. Are you sure, King Tamas?’

  ‘Tamas, don’t!’ Florentyna pleaded.

  ‘Florentyna, everyone is putting their life on the line. There’s no point in me cowering here, waiting to be cut down later rather than sooner, hiding behind monks. I’m a king. I lead.’

  ‘You speak as if we’re already dead,’ she said, angry tears flowing. She dashed them away. ‘Whose idea was this?’

  ‘Mine, your majesty,’ Ham said, looking contrite. ‘I feel it’s the only way.’

  ‘Listen to me, my queen. It’s easier to accept death than to fear it. If I don’t fear it, I will find more courage. Let me go. Let me play my part.’

  ‘Now, your majesty, if you’re ever going to do it,’ Ham warned, his eyes imploring. ‘We can’t let him in.’

  Tamas kissed Florentyna’s hands holding them to his lips for a few moments. Then he turned to Ham and hugged the boy. ‘Brave lad. Now it’s my turn.’ He didn’t wait for them to say more, but hurried away down the stairs.

  ‘Your majesty,’ Hamelyn said. ‘Please go with Brother Hoolyn.’ When she began to protest, he frowned. ‘This is for you, Queen Florentyna, for your people, for the empire. Please let us help you.’

  She bit back on her words. Nodded. ‘Lead the way, Brother Hoolyn.’

  He shooed her down the narrow stone staircase to a secret place. Hamelyn hoped keeping her out of sight might buy some time. He hung out the window, just in time to see King Tamas burst from the monastery.

  ‘Cyricus!’ Tamas yelled, feeling himself possessed with a fury he had never experienced previously.

  ‘Tamas!’ the demon said in Wentzl’s amused voice. ‘What fun. Do you plan to cross swords with me?’

  ‘I wasn’t planning on asking you to dance.’

  Wentzl’s face erupted with glee. ‘Excellent, your majesty. Should I be frightened? I can’t be bothered to search your man’s memories. You probably know about Myrren’s magic by now, don’t you?’ He didn’t wait for Tamas to answer. ‘Her magic was so clever that whenever a body was possessed it handed over its knowledge too. Sadly, that’s not happening easily for me. Having tampered with the magic, I think it’s punishing me. I do not have access to Wentzl’s former knowledge unless I hunt for it.’ Cyricus drew Wentzl’s sword with a flourish. ‘That said,’ he continued conversationally, ‘I’m sure, as your right-hand military man, his skills would be second nature and will occur without me having to think too hard. You should also know that I have had some previous experience with sword —’

  Tamas gave a growl of boredom, lunging at Wentzl, who managed to block the hammering blow just in time. ‘You talk too much, Cyricus. Wentzl was a man who kept his thoughts to himself. I suggest you shut his mouth and get on with trying to kill me, because I know I can kill you in his body … just like I killed Aphra.’ He grinned maliciously.

  Wentzl looked shaken. ‘Don’t threaten me, Tamas. You are nothing!’

  ‘You look unnerved, Cyricus. You hadn’t counted on having the fight brought to you, had you? Now your servant is dead, you are alone. I won’t let you get to her, you need to know that.’

  Cyricus laughed. ‘I will feast on your body when this is done.’

  ‘When this is done, Cyricus, you will feel Wentzl bleeding out from the wounds I plan to inflict. And you will die in the body of a Ciprean soldier.’ Tamas laughed. ‘A nobody,’ he added, knowing Wentzl would forgive him the insult.

  Cyricus roared his anger, swung with Wentzl’s sword and the fight was on in earnest.

  In the tower, Ham stole a glance at the slumped figure of Cassien. He wondered what his brother had thought of his surprise in the Void. He also wondered what Cassien would think of his idea to throw Tamas into the fray. He would know soon enough; it was simple, but fraught with danger. The king had to best Wentzl. Then Ham was going to be the one who would lure the demon — give him the choice of certain death or a chance to fight a different sort of battle.

  Time was slipping away. Cassien’s body would cool inwardly and no longer accept him back if they left it too long. Even blankets wouldn’t help, although he had considered it briefly.

  He shifted his attention to the fight. Tamas had been doing well; clearly, he was the better swordsman and obviously far too modest because he’d never mentioned his ability. But he was the elder man by a decade. In Captain Wentzl’s body, Cyricus was stronger,
faster. Tamas looked to be wearying.

  He watched the king feint and strike. He caught Wentzl a slashing blow on his fighting arm and Wentzl shrieked with pain. Blood flowed easily. Good, that would slow him … in fact, that was the way to win this fight. Ham checked again on Cassien and then took the risk, hurtling down the staircase two at a time until he rushed out into the main yard, emerging from the shadow of the cloisters.

  ‘Your majesty,’ he yelled.

  ‘Busy right now, Ham,’ Tamas yelled back, blocking and swinging, missing a nasty hack at his calf, dancing out of the way just in time.

  ‘Wound him, your majesty. Make him bleed any way you can.’

  ‘Who in the devil’s bright blood is this, Tamas? You take advice from a boy now?’

  ‘You should too, Cyricus,’ Ham said, beginning the ruse, ‘because I would advise you to give up this mortal body.’

  Tamas, not yet bleeding, but visibly slowing, sneaked in a crushing blow that damaged Wentzl’s shoulder.

  ‘You’ll pay for that, Tamas,’ Cyricus groaned, but Ham could see that the king had gone into the fighting trance that Ham had heard spoken of when he looked after swordfighters in Orkyld. He’d had it explained by several different men as they talked of the curious ‘space’ they fell into when fighting. You go within yourself, one had said, in order to stay focused and not be distracted. Another had likened it to wearing blinkers: You are simply not aware of anything around you, other than your opponent’s blade and where the weight of his body is shifting. And that’s how Tamas looked now. Completely absorbed and dedicating himself to parrying the sudden flurry of blows that his younger, stronger opponent was pressing. Tamas was holding, twisting and turning his sword with skill and courage to ensure the flat of the blade met the blows and deflected them, although his shoulders were likely burning by now. In fact, Ham could see he raised his hands slightly lower with each parry. Time was getting away. Was it already too late?