If everything had remained normal, she asked herself, what would I have done with him?
Jamal would have hated the thought of relying on charity – she smirked at the unintentional pun – and remaining cooped up inside the house, just as Johan had. But there wouldn’t really have been a choice, would there? The blood ties were still there, even if Jamal was powerless and Johan was … whatever he was. Someone who wanted to curse their entire family could have used Jamal’s blood as a weapon, although the nasty part of her mind pointed out that anyone with a grudge probably had it because of Jamal. Why bother cursing the whole family when there was a perfect opportunity to exact revenge on Jamal?
But it no longer mattered. Jamal was dead.
She opened her eyes as the dragon swooped down and landed in front of a small town. The population looked to have fled, or decided it was safer to remain indoors when dark deeds were afoot. A handful of soldiers were waiting at the gates, bowing in salute as the Emperor climbed off the dragon and strode towards the buildings. Charity followed, shivering helplessly as she stepped outside the dragon’s magical field. The cold would have worn through robes, let alone the wisps of material the Emperor had ordered her to wear. She had a nasty feeling that if she stopped, the cold would kill her.
“Your Supremacy,” the sergeant said. He pointed a finger through the gates towards a large building. “We have secured that inn as a base of operations.”
“Good,” the Emperor said. “Have the lead Inquisitor brought to me.”
He stepped through the gates and into the town. Snow lay everywhere, glinting under the light from the windows. Charity would have found it charming if she hadn’t feared what the Emperor would do; instead, she kept her eyes down as she followed the Emperor through the door and into the inn. It was warm enough to start unfreezing her toes; she cursed under her breath as the Emperor looked around, then sat down on a comfortable chair and motioned for her to kneel beside him. The stone was hard and cold under her bare skin.
“Your Supremacy,” a voice said. Charity looked up to see an Inquisitor, a dark-skinned man wearing a long black cloak and carrying an iron-tipped staff. The skull-ring on his finger glowed with red light. “You wished to see me?”
“Yes,” the Emperor said. “Why did you set up the checkpoint outside the gates?”
There was a long chilling pause as the Inquisitor fought his oaths. “I wished to make sure the fugitives would have a chance to see us,” he said, finally. Blood started to trickle from his nose as the oaths reasserted themselves. “And they slipped through the net.”
“So it would seem,” the Emperor said. “Why did you defy my orders?”
“Your orders were not broken,” the Inquisitor said. “They were merely … subverted.”
“I see,” the Emperor said, very slowly. “You carried out my orders to the letter, but made use of a loophole to subvert them. Well done. Very well done.”
His gaze sharpened. “Kill yourself.”
The Inquisitor shuddered, more blood flowing from his nose. Slowly, inch by inch, his hand reached for a dagger and drew it from his belt. The blade glinted under the candlelight as he struggled to throw it away, to break his oaths; Charity found herself unable to move her gaze as he lifted the knife to his throat, holding it right at the very edge of his skin. A tiny pinprick of blood appeared at the very tip of the blade, trickling down to touch his hand. And then the knife practically leapt forward and slashed his throat wide open.
Charity shuddered as the Inquisitor stumbled, then fell to the floor. The knife crashed down and bounced off the stone, coming to rest near the Emperor. He looked … pleased, although there was something about his expression that chilled her to the bone. Did he almost … admire the Inquisitor?
“Give him a hero’s funeral,” the Emperor ordered. “Once the rest of the army arrives, we will lay plans for the assault.”
The guards hurried out, taking the body with them. Charity watched them go, then turned to stare at the Emperor. A thin smile curled over his lips as he contemplated the bloodstained floor.
“A brave man,” he said, although she wasn’t sure if he were speaking to himself or to her. “A shame he had to die.”
“Yes, Your Supremacy,” Charity said.
“Strong magic and a strong mind,” the Emperor added. “He could have been great if he had served me.”
Or overthrown you, Charity thought.
“You will clear up the blood,” the Emperor ordered. Charity shuddered. Did he know she’d seen the loophole too? Or was it just one more way to humiliate her? “I want the floor spotless by the time the generals arrive.”
Charity bowed her head. “Yes, Your Supremacy.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Elaine hadn’t been sure what to expect from the Queen’s private dining room. She’d only ever attended a handful of formal dinners, all in the Imperial Palace, at Light Spinner’s behest and she’d left as soon as she decently could. They had taken place in a large ballroom, easily big enough to accommodate hundreds of guests; she’d felt so badly out of place that she’d spent the whole dinner staring at her plate. But Sacharissa’s private dining room was small, comfortable and had barely enough room for her guests. She stepped inside, smiled wanly at Dread’s knowing expression, and took her seat. Johan sat next to her, his emotions under tight control. Sarah, Brian and a handful of Levellers she didn’t know were already sitting around the table.
“This is a Council of War,” Sacharissa said, once three aristocrats had entered the room and joined the small gathering. “Colonel Tarpon, commander of the Royal Guard; Duke Agues, Master of the Road and Lord Appleton, Master of Magic.”
Elaine gave the final nobleman a long look. It wasn’t uncommon for the mundane aristocracy to produce magicians – Sacharissa’s brother had been a powerful magician before his untimely death – but it was rare to allow one so close to the throne. The Court Wizard should have quietly steered Appleton somewhere else, perhaps urging him to leave Ida altogether and threatening him if he refused to go. But he was still here … she concentrated, probing his magic field gently and decided Appleton wasn’t that powerful. He’d probably gained the job through nepotism.
Which is par for the course, she thought. How else do aristocrats get jobs?
She frowned, inwardly. Appleton looked more of a thinker than a doer, although he did have a wand at his belt. His face was so bland she would have thought it was a glamour if she hadn’t been skilled at sensing them. Beside him, Colonel Tarpon looked almost as tough as Dread – his face was scarred and he had an eyepatch covering one eye – while Duke Agues looked alarmingly fat and happy. She forced herself to remember that fat didn’t always mean evil, even though the orphanage supervisors had been heavily overweight and thoroughly nasty. It wouldn’t have bothered her so much if the orphans hadn’t had to struggle for food.
“There’s no proof the Emperor means us harm,” the Duke said. “Your Majesty’s father is dead now, along with his crimes.”
“The Emperor has burnt his way through several cities which are – forgive me – far more valuable to him than Ida,” Dread said, curtly. “You’ve heard the rumours.”
“Rumours grow in the telling,” the Duke pointed out.
“But not the stories from World’s Gate,” Colonel Tarpon said. “Your Grace; there’s an army taking up position at the bottom of the mountain. I dare not assume it’s friendly.”
“There isn’t room for doubt,” Sacharissa agreed, calmly. “They’re intent on destroying our kingdom.”
“Then we surrender,” the Duke said.
“They’re crushing everyone in their path,” Dread said. “You could bend the knee to them and they might still kill you.”
Elaine nodded when Sacharissa turned to look at her. She had a feeling that at least some of the aristocracy thought they could make a deal with Deferens, even though such a deal would be hideously one-sided at best. And, with the Witch-King under Ida, she was convinc
ed that Deferens would agree to whatever he had to so he could take control of the kingdom, then lay waste to Ida with fire and sword. The aristocrats might be the last to die, but they would die.
“Then we may as well fight,” Sacharissa said. She waited until the servants had placed bowls of steaming hot soup in front of each of them, then smiled. “Can we fight?”
Colonel Tarpon looked straight at her. “Your Majesty,” he said. “If it was a normal army, I would believe we could hold it off. They would have immense difficulty getting anything larger than a few companies of men up the road to Ida. But they have dragons! And very powerful magic. The reports say they bridged the Lug.”
“Not for long,” Sarah snapped.
“Long enough to take the city,” Colonel Tarpon said. He didn’t seem to be offended by her tone. “We couldn’t survive if they used such a powerful spell to break our wards.”
Elaine closed her eyes, allowing knowledge to bubble to the surface. “The ritual in question is very fragile,” she said. And it would certainly kill the caster. Deferens might even be running out of sorcerers willing to die for him. “I don’t believe Falcone’s Nest had enough sorcerers who could manage to deflect it, but it is certainly possible.”
Dread looked at her. “Can you?”
“Of course she can,” Johan said. He squeezed Elaine’s hand under the table. “Elaine is a genius.”
“True,” Sarah agreed, as Elaine flushed. “Some of her spells are works of art.”
She looked at Appleton. “How many magicians are there in Ida?”
“Only fifty-seven,” Appleton said, “assuming you count hedge wizards and a handful of very minor sorcerers. Ida has never been a popular place for sorcerers.”
Elaine wasn’t surprised. The Witch-King might have influenced any who had been fool enough to enter the kingdom, but he didn’t really need to bother. Any sorcerer with real power would probably be ambitious and Ida, trapped in the mountains, was hardly large enough to suit a fully-fledged sorcerer. They’d go to the Peerless School and never look back. Hell, Sacharissa’s brother was the only sorcerer she knew who’d stayed in Ida.
“They can learn some of my spells,” she said, bluntly. “Sarah and the others already know enough of them to start teaching the basics.”
“Of course,” Brian agreed.
“We can also show your people how to make Firepowder,” Brian added. “However, unless we can find the right materials, it won’t be easy. We can produce everything from scratch, but it will take longer than we have.”
Sacharissa frowned. “How long?”
“Months,” Brian said. “But we can make it very quickly if we have the materials.”
“We will see that you have everything you need,” Sacharissa said. She looked at Dread. “If we can turn back the army, we will. What then?”
Dread sighed. “Let the army batter itself to death against the walls,” he said. “The Empire will not long endure him once his dragons and magicians are gone.”
Elaine sucked in her breath. “You’re talking about ending the Empire.”
“Yes,” Dread said. “I do not believe we can rebuild any longer.”
He looked down at his bowl of soup. “The Grand Sorceress is dead; the Inquisition is gravely weakened; the Great Houses have been broken; countless magicians are dead; the trade links that bind the Empire together have been shattered … and there’s a madman on the Golden Throne. Even if Deferens dies tomorrow, the damage he has done is beyond repair. It might be better to have the Empire shatter than attempt to rebuild it.”
“There will be war,” Elaine said, very quietly.
“Good,” Sarah said. “Let the aristocrats kill each other.”
Sacharissa cleared her throat. Sarah’s face darkened, but she said nothing.
“It would be the end of life as we know it,” Johan said.
Elaine kept her face impassive, although she knew Johan could sense her doubt and concern – and her fear for the future. A world without the Empire? How long would it be before the magical society cracked and broke too, if it wasn’t already broken beyond repair? She had no doubt that there would be war, as kings and princes sought to claim power for themselves; it wouldn’t be long before the Peerless School and the remains of the Golden City became prizes to be won. And how long would it be before the kingdoms started experimenting with forbidden spells?
“Yes, it would,” she said, finally. “But I submit to you that allowing the Emperor to win will be even worse.”
The Duke eyed her darkly. “And how do you know that?”
“Vlad Deferens comes from a society where the strong rule the weak – or, at least, that’s how he would put it,” Elaine said. She had done a little research after all, back when Daria and she had been betting on who would be the next Grand Sorcerer. “There is no permanent stability, Your Grace. Sons kill fathers as soon as they think they can get away with it – and it is accepted, because a son who kills his father is clearly stronger. Magicians, too, compete for power and place; women are turned into broodmares and slaves, forced to serve men and have no will of their own.”
She took a breath. “The only way to get any stability is to become an eunuch,” she added, knowing it would make the men quail. “Eunuchs have some freedom because there’s no prospect of them siring a line for themselves, but they’re still regarded as weaklings. Would you like to live there? I believe Deferens intends to impose a similar system on the entire world.”
Colonel Tarpon frowned. “Why?”
“Because he believes in his society,” Elaine said. “He thinks his rule is justified because he is strong, because he can do anything and get away with it. He’s even willing to accept the possibility of someone killing him because that would put an even stronger leader on the throne. Extending his society is practically a religious duty because the more people who are part of it, the more strong leaders will rise to the top.”
“He’s not interested in a line of succession,” Sacharissa said, coldly.
“No,” Elaine said. “The prize of Empire will go to the strong.”
“And if that’s done on a far greater scale,” Dread added, “there will be civil war.”
“We will resist,” Sacharissa said.
She must, Johan said, mentally. His thoughts were shaded with remembered pain. She’ll get the same treatment as Charity, if she survives.
She will, Elaine agreed. The thought of Sacharissa being broken by Deferens was horrific, but it had to be faced. Deferens won’t allow her to survive her kingdom. He may even kill her to make sure the royal line comes to an end.
“So we hold,” Sacharissa said. She looked at the Colonel. “You have assembled the militia?”
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Colonel Tarpon said. “The enemy will field a great many more soldiers, I fear, but we will have some advantages. I’ve already deployed scouts to watch the road from World’s Gate. So far, there’s been no attempt to push up towards Ida, but that won’t last. They’re just waiting for the rest of their army to arrive.”
“Expect them to cover the snow in their dead bodies, if necessary,” Dread said. “They’ve been conscripting young men from every town and city they passed. I imagine they’ll use the ill-trained levies for the first assault, then put in their better-trained troops.”
“They could not have trained for our weather,” Tarpon assured him.
“Don’t count on it,” Elaine said. “They’re bound to have known they’d have to take Ida.”
“They were planning the invasion from the moment Deferens took the throne, perhaps before,” Dread agreed. “I don’t think they’ll have failed to stockpile cold weather gear while making their plans.”
“You would have seen the plans,” Sacharissa said.
“They didn’t cover the dragons,” Dread said. “The first draft was to take World’s Gate, then thrust up the road. There weren’t many other options, short of bringing in Alpine troops from another mountain state. But the
dragons can leapfrog over the defences …”
“If the creatures can endure the cold,” Tarpon mused.
“They’re not normal creatures,” Elaine warned. The spells to summon dragons were very clear in her mind. “Don’t expect them to be deterred by a little snowfall.”
“The snows here are quite something,” the Duke assured her.
“So are the dragons,” Dread said, curtly. “If we start training the magicians after dinner … how long will it take them to master the spells?”
“Perhaps a few hours,” Elaine said. She sensed a flicker of irritation from Johan and nodded in rueful agreement. There was a part of her that wanted to forget everything and climb back into bed with him. “I can also work on rites to deal with the magic rituals, assuming Deferens tries to use them.”
“It’s one of his advantages,” Dread said. “There’s also the other problem …”
Sacharissa held up a hand. “We’ll talk about that later,” she said. A set of servants appeared, removed the bowls and brought in steaming plates of roast meat. “Let us talk about something else over dinner.”
Elaine wasn’t sure that was a good idea, but Dread didn’t seem to mind. It was an interesting conversation; Sacharissa chatted to Sarah about the Levellers, while Tarpon and Brian talked military tactics involving Firepowder. Johan listened, fascinated; Elaine recalled he’d always been interested in non-magical ways to do things, even though he’d developed greater powers than anyone had expected. By the time the dinner finally came to an end, she was surprised to find that she’d actually enjoyed herself.
She thought of the army, massing slowly at World’s Gate, and shivered. The soldiers wouldn’t show any mercy, if they broke through the walls. Ida wasn’t a populous state – she had a vague idea there weren’t more than around thirty thousand people in the entire kingdom – but they were all dead if Deferens won. She still had no idea why he was so determined to clear the way for the Witch-King …
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