Donning a set of clothes that had been left for him by the Levellers, he hurried back downstairs to discover that Sarah and a couple of people he didn’t recognise had arrived and were unloading a large hamper of food. Elaine and Sarah were talking quietly in soft voices, while Dread was speaking to a large man carrying a hammer under one arm and Daria was watching them all with quiet amusement. Johan cringed again at the realisation she would have smelt the sudden rush of arousal, even though he’d washed himself with warm soapy water. The werewolf was probably wondering why he hadn’t tried to jump Elaine.
Because she’s my mistress, he thought. It wasn’t a convincing argument. And because we don’t have time.
“We brought chicken,” Sarah said, holding out a drumstick. “Better eat as much as you can, young man. We’re going to be leaving after breakfast.”
Johan nodded. “What happened?”
“Well, most of the City Fathers are dead or missing, so a handful of merchants managed to take control and start making preparations for war,” Sarah told him. “Not everyone believes in the Emperor and his flying dragons, but they do know we’ve given more than enough cause for war to all the bordering states. I don’t think that any of the foreigners are going to urge mercy when they get home.”
“No, they won’t,” Dread agreed. “How bad was it?”
“Several hundred men and women humiliated, nineteen killed, thirty-seven raped and fifty-nine injured,” Sarah said. “They’ll be vowing bloody revenge as soon as they’re out of the city.”
“But Alfred is dead,” Johan protested. “We killed him, didn’t we?”
“As far as we know,” Sarah agreed. “His magic died when the Firepowder exploded and no one’s seen anything of him since the blast. But we never found a body.”
“You wouldn’t,” Dread commented.
“Probably not,” Sarah said. She ran her fingers through her long blonde hair. “The foreigners are heading home, carrying with them tales of horror. I imagine it won’t be long before the first armies show up at our gates.”
Johan swallowed. “But it wasn’t your fault!”
“It won’t matter,” Dread pointed out. “Falcone’s Nest controls a number of trading routes, so whoever manages to take the city – using whatever excuse best suits them – will have an advantage as the Empire slowly disintegrates. I imagine a couple of unleashed kings will have ideas about just who should take the city – and the deaths alone are more than enough cause for war.”
“Quite,” Sarah agreed. She cleared her throat as Johan tucked into the chicken. “Just about everyone who can afford it is leaving the city, so we’ve taken the liberty of assembling a set of coaches to travel to our next destination. We’ll be leaving in a couple of hours, taking the magicians and a number of chemists with us. The remainder of our group will stay here and try to slow the Emperor down.”
“Which won’t be easy,” Elaine said. “The bridges may be gone …”
“But he can still fly,” Sarah said. She scowled down at the table. “We may lose the battle, but we can at least delay him a little.”
Sure, Johan thought. Just as long as it takes a dragon to fly across the river and rain down fire on the defenders.
“There are a handful of magicians remaining in the city,” Sarah added. “They may have a chance to slow the Emperor down.”
“I doubt it,” Elaine said, tartly. “Dragons are tough.”
Sarah gave Elaine a nasty look, then shrugged. “Be ready to leave in an hour,” she said, firmly. “I don’t expect this place to be spotless – if we survive, we’ll deal with the mess – but make sure you take everything you brought with you.”
“Understood,” Dread said.
Johan finished eating the chicken, then took a slice of bread and sat down at the table. Elaine wasn’t looking at him, either out of embarrassment or fear that she would betray something to her comrades. Johan seriously considered trying to touch her mind, but decided it would only upset her. She’d have to come to terms with her own feelings before she started to talk to him. They’d known the bond would be deeper than a normal bond, yet they’d also assumed they’d be able to cope with it at leisure. They hadn’t realised they’d be fleeing for their lives from an invincible foe.
I could stay here too, he thought, remembering how the bridges had caught fire and melted into the Lug. If I had him in eyeshot, I could deal with him …
It was a tempting thought. He hated Deferens, hated him for what he’d done to Elaine and Charity and Cass, hated him for having power and allowing it to turn him into a monster. If the Emperor died, the Empire would stagger but it might recover in time to deal with the Witch-King. A new Grand Sorcerer could be chosen …
And that would betray the Levellers, he added, in the privacy of his own thoughts. They’d be pushed back to square one.
He shook his head, slowly. If he’d known about the Levellers before he’d developed his powers, he would have joined. Why not? He knew more about how power corrupted – and how the lack of power weakened – than Hawke, even though Hawke had watched helplessly as his daughter was humiliated and abused. And he also knew the Iron Dragons didn’t use magic at all. He could have been a Leveller and never looked back to his roots. Even now, with enough power at his fingertips to make any normal magician fearful, he had no intention of betraying them. They deserved better.
Daria poked him with a fingernail. “A coin for your thoughts?”
“I was miles away,” Johan said. “Just … just lost in my thoughts.”
He looked at Daria, feeling an odd sense of detachment. He’d thought the werewolf was beautiful, when he’d first seen her; beautiful, muscular, strong and confident. It was strange to think that she and Elaine were friends, because they seemed to have nothing in common beyond magic. And yet, where he’d once wanted her, he now felt nothing but abstract admiration for her. The bond was drawing him towards Elaine.
“Try not to get stuck in them,” Daria advised, deadpan. “It’s hard to find your way out.”
Johan smiled. “Really?”
“There was a magician who developed a spell to organise his own thoughts,” Daria said, as she took a piece of chicken and began to dissect it with her teeth. Even in human form, they were sharp enough to suggest her true nature. “He eventually managed to lock himself inside a fantasy and the druids had to break him out before his body died. And then he took one look around at the real world and plunged straight back into his mind.”
“At least he died happy,” Johan said. How often had he dreamed of having the same powers as Jamal? Or Charity? He wouldn’t have minded going back to childhood if it had meant growing up with magic. “There aren’t many people who can say that.”
Daria gave him a considering look. “How would you know?”
Johan had no answer, so he finished eating and helped Dread and Elaine to clear the table and pack the remains of the food back into the hamper. Sarah had slipped out while he wasn’t looking, perhaps checking the route to the coachhouse or obtaining more supplies before they left the city for good. He couldn’t help wondering how she felt, leaving her home behind; her father, at least, had looked a decent sort. Sarah had stayed with him when she could easily have found a husband and moved out.
He glanced at Elaine as they finished, but she was talking to Dread about the route to Ida. Johan sighed, then walked out of the room as Sarah reappeared and beckoned them out of the house. The roadside looked reassuringly normal, but he couldn’t help noticing that a number of glass windows – a sign of wealth and power – had been smashed during the night. Anyone wealthy enough to afford glass for his windows could easily have paid to have them warded, yet some of the wards had started to fail. He had a feeling it boded ill for the future.
The Levellers wondered if the magic was going away, he thought, numbly. Elaine had rubbished the suggestion, but she might well have wanted to believe it was nonsense, rather than a very real possibility. What if they’re right?
“Come on,” Sarah said, once everyone was outside and the doors were locked. “There isn’t much time.”
The streets looked oddly deserted as they walked back towards the inn. A handful of slaves were clearing up the mess left behind by the rioters, but most of the population seemed to be staying indoors or working away from home. Johan listened, carefully, and heard the sound of construction work along the edge of the city, where the walls provided a limited form of protection. The citizens were working hard, he was sure, but it was useless. They were not going to be able to stop a dragon by building high walls.
They could charm the walls to repel fire, he thought. His parents had spent weeks doing just that, once the family moved into Conidian House. Jamal had got out of it, while Johan hadn’t been able to help, but the other children had assisted as best they could. It might give them a chance …
He shook his head as a line of archers appeared, carrying makeshift bows. Wooden arrows with metal tips wouldn’t worry a dragon; hell, the beast might not even deem the archers worthy of killing. A couple of arrows looked to be enchanted – their tips replaced by crystals that glowed faintly, even in daylight – but would they be powerful enough to burn through Dragonhide? He had a nasty feeling they wouldn’t be anything like capable of doing real harm to a dragon.
Two coaches stood outside the inn, harnessed to two horses apiece. A handful of guards – Johan hoped they were Levellers, rather than private guardsmen or mercenaries – stood next to them, their horses tied to a wooden post. They looked tough, Johan decided, but they also looked wary. Too much had happened in the last couple of days to allow anyone to relax.
Sarah spoke briefly to her father, then motioned to the coaches. Johan hesitated, then followed Elaine and Daria as they scrambled into the second coach. Dread followed them, looking around grimly. It wasn’t hard to realise that they were trapped if a marauding dragon saw them from high overhead and swooped down to attack – and, with the windows covered by thick curtains, there would be no warning before the coach was incinerated. Elaine sat down on a hard wooden bench, then opened her pack and produced a book. Daria sat next to her before Johan could and closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep.
Johan looked at Dread, who shrugged and reached into his pack, producing a small chessboard and a set of wooden pieces. The thought of the stony-faced Inquisitor playing chess made Johan smile; he nodded, accepting the implicit offer. Dread set the chessboard up, then silently offered to let Johan play white. Johan accepted as the coach shook, then started to move, rocking violently from side to side.
“My father’s coach had spells on it to compensate,” he said, feeling sick. “Can we put some on this coach?”
“Not unless we want to be detected,” Elaine said. Her voice was tart, but he was relieved to hear it. It was the first thing she’d said to him since breakfast. “They’ll be looking for runaway magicians.”
Johan nodded, reluctantly. “You can’t hide the magic?”
“Not without making it useless,” Elaine admitted. Her words brought a sense that she was keeping her emotions under firm control. “It would just be a waste of magic.”
Johan couldn’t help feeling envious. He didn’t know how she could read, not when the coach was rocking backwards and forwards. It was hard enough to play chess. Johan hadn’t played that often – the only person who’d play with him was his father – and he hadn’t had much practice, but it was clear that Dread was good. Even spotting Johan a knight and a cleric, he still won several games in a row. But then, he would have needed to while away the time on stakeout somehow.
He looked up as the former Inquisitor checkmated him for the fifth time. “Where did you learn to play?”
“Thinking several steps ahead is supposed to be a useful skill for the Inquisition,” Dread said, resetting the board. “You’re not thinking like a player.”
Johan scowled, stung. “I do know how to play!”
“You know how the pieces move,” Dread said. “However, you’re not giving any thought to how they interact. The sorceress” – he tapped the regal figure with one scarred finger – “is the most powerful piece on the board, but even she needs support to achieve checkmate. You can’t checkmate me with just her.”
“So I need a tower or something to keep your grand sorcerer from taking me,” Johan said, carefully. “But she’s still doing most of the work.”
“Yes, she is,” Dread agreed. He smiled as he removed his sorceress from the board. “Which is why so many players give up when they lose their sorceress.”
Johan nodded and started to play again, thinking about each move before picking up the piece and pushing it forward.
“Tell me something,” he said, in hopes of distracting Dread. “Why do we have the grand sorcerer as the least capable piece, even though a real Grand Sorcerer would be powerful enough to defend himself.”
Dread tapped his grand sorcerer thoughtfully. “The grand sorcerer doesn’t represent a powerful magician, not here,” he said. “He represents a chain of succession, just as kingship is more than the sum of whoever is lowering his despotic rump onto the throne at any one time. A checkmate doesn’t take the grand sorcerer, Johan. It breaks the line of succession, so there won’t be another grand sorcerer.”
“And ends the game,” Johan said. He stared down at the pieces for a long moment, then remembered his family. Jamal would have inherited, if their father had died; his children would have become the Prime Heirs. But now, he had no idea who was the Family Head; Jamal was powerless, Johan was gone, Charity was a slave … “Who’s in charge of House Conidian now?”
“I have no idea,” Dread said. “Your younger siblings are too young for the role, I suppose.”
“Jay is fourteen,” Johan said.
“Then I imagine the Emperor has taken advantage of the situation to strip House Conidian of everything it has,” Dread said. He tapped the chessboard meaningfully. “Is there anything you can do about it now?”
“No,” Johan said. He moved a piece forward, then swore as Dread took advantage of his move to take one of the knights. “But it stings.”
“I shouldn’t worry about it,” Dread advised. “Unless you intend to claim the position for yourself …”
“No, thank you,” Johan said. “I …”
He broke off as the carriage shuddered to a stop. Moments later, someone rattled on the door.
“We’re outside the city, near the woods,” Sarah called. “You ready?”
“Yes,” Daria said. She gave Elaine a tight hug, then winked at Johan. “Good luck, both of you. I’ll see you in Ida!”
She stood as the door opened. Outside, Johan could see trees and a pair of guards, peering in at them curiously. Daria snapped into wolf-form – Elaine scooped up her robe – and darted out of the coach, vanishing in the undergrowth. If there were other werewolves nearby, she’d be able to track them down before too long.
“Good luck,” Elaine breathed, as the door slammed closed again. Her emotions were still under tight control, as if she were shutting him out. “All we can do now is hope we get to Ida in time.”
“We will,” Johan said, as reassuringly as he could. He glanced at Dread. “Your move.”
Dread moved a piece forward, then smirked. “Checkmate.”
Chapter Twelve
The town had offered no resistance. It hadn’t been enough to save it.
Charity walked through the smouldering remains, feeling sick. The Emperor – bored, frustrated or angry – had unleashed the dragons on the town as soon as it came into view, then directed his soldiers to kill or capture the civilians. There hadn’t been any magicians, as far as anyone had been able to tell; the men had been pressed into the army or simply enslaved, while the women had suffered a fate worse than death. Charity had almost been relieved when the screaming ended, even though she knew it meant their throats had been cut. At least their suffering was over.
The soldiers gave her a wide berth as she pe
ered at what had once been a counting house, where the local tax gatherers had plied their trade. If there hadn’t been a pair of golden scales lying on the ground, somehow untouched by the flames, she wouldn’t have been able to tell it apart from any of the other buildings. She was surprised the scales hadn’t been looted – the soldiers had taken everything that wasn’t nailed down – but rumour had it that the tax gatherers had cursed their sign of office, just to make sure it wasn’t stolen one dark night. If they weren’t the least popular people in the world, Charity didn’t want to meet the people who were.
The Emperor, she thought, numbly. The town had offered no resistance and yet it had been burnt to the ground, its population butchered after the soldiers had had their fun. If there were any survivors at all, they were the people who’d seen the army coming and fled into the countryside, hoping to remain hidden until it was gone. After this, no one is going to want to bow the knee to him.
She looked up as a shadow passed overhead. A dragon was flying in lazy circles around the town, its beady red eyes searching for trouble. Charity shook her head tiredly, half-wishing the soldiers would put an end to her life. The Emperor didn’t need to be popular when he had dragons, dragons that answered to him and him alone. Anyone who dared stand in his way would be crisped before they managed to finish speaking the words of a formal challenge.
And even if he does duel someone, he’s a formidable sorcerer, she thought. And he’s been storing power from his victims.
A horseman cantered past from the south, pulling up outside the Emperor’s tent. He’d set up a small camp, although it was clear he had no intention of staying in the town for longer than it took to strip the countryside of everything his army could use. Foraging parties were already prowling through the fields, removing corn, digging up potatoes and replenishing the army’s stocks of water from the wells. By the time they finally moved on, Charity thought as she started walking back to the tent, it would look like a horde of locusts had passed through the countryside, consuming everything in their path.
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