She had thought the raider would be older, perhaps a veteran of the war like many of the others she’d seen. Instead she was facing a young woman from Seveldrom who hadn’t seen thirty summers. With wild straw-coloured hair and gentle features, she might once have been pretty, if not for the void behind her wintry blue eyes. Much like other raiders the woman lacked compassion. Her language was violence, used as a club to get what she wanted. Just as Danoph had predicted Wren thought it might be the only thing she understood.
“I could make you drop it, or I could just make your head explode,” said Wren, making herself smile.
The raider paled slightly but quickly recovered. “This village isn’t yours.”
“It doesn’t belong to Boros either,” said Wren and the raider twitched at the mention of his name. “Leave these people in peace and never come back.”
“Or what?”
It seemed as if a show of force was necessary. “Or I’ll kill you where you stand.”
Much to Wren’s surprise the raider grinned, but somehow the smile never made it to her lifeless eyes. Pursing her lips, she let out a sharp whistle and Wren sensed movement on both sides. Looking up at the buildings she saw three archers on either side, but instead of aiming at her they were pointing at the crowd.
“You might be able to stop me, but I doubt you can save everyone,” said the raider.
It was a good idea and it showed both forethought and caution. If Wren hadn’t showed up Gillen’s Jaw would’ve become yet another village paying a tithe to Boros. But now the raiders had the opportunity to get rid of her at the same time as scaring another community. With so many people witnessing her defeat the raiders wouldn’t need to work as hard at intimidating other villages in the area.
Wren thought it might even have worked if they hadn’t underestimated her.
“Your move,” said the woman.
Never one for dramatics, Wren simply focused a trickle of the power she was channelling on her throat. “Now,” she said, the word reverberating down the road. Kimme struck on the left and all three of the raiders on one side of the street were suddenly left clutching a collection of kindling in their hands. A moment later the raiders were thrown into the street, one of them landing badly and breaking an ankle. The other archers followed suit, landing without their bows in the street while people in the crowd dodged the falling bodies.
While everyone was distracted Wren reached out and shattered the dagger then wrenched the raider’s arm to one side where she heard it pop out of joint. The villager scuttled away back to the relative safety of the crowd who huddled together like frightened sheep. In other communities the people had shown some defiance, but here it seemed as if they were downtrodden and willing to submit to whoever came along.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” said the raider between gritted teeth. Her right arm hung down at her side. Her men were all lying in the street, bruised and battered, but she remained defiant. “You can’t be everywhere at once.”
“Neither can Boros.”
“Something is wrong,” muttered Danoph. “She’s too calm.”
The raider gritted her teeth and gestured at the villagers. “Tell her.”
A sturdy woman with grey hair stepped forward from the crowd. A creeping sense of dread crept up Wren’s spine when she noticed the woman was constantly wringing her hands.
“You need to leave and never come back. We’re fine. We don’t need your help.” She was clearly terrified of something, but Wren didn’t know if it was the raider or something else.
“Why are there no children in the village?” whispered Danoph.
Scanning the crowd Wren noticed there wasn’t a single child. “What have you done?” she asked. “Where are all the children?”
The raider gave her an awful grin. A mix of pain and triumph. “They’re around here somewhere,” she said, vaguely gesturing at the surrounding houses. “A few of my friends are keeping them company. To be honest, they’re depraved men and more than a little twisted in the head. They have a thing for young flesh and are difficult to control. Right now it must be like a bear finding a whole hive full of honey.”
The raider’s words carried around the street and there were a few wails of agony from the crowd. Far too late to be of any use, Wren realised their fear was not for themselves. All of this had been carefully orchestrated for her benefit.
“You might be good at pushing people about, or breaking weapons with your magic, but you’re not too bright, are you?”
“What do you want?” asked Wren.
“Take your group of freaks, crawl back to whatever hole you came from and pack up. I want you gone. What was it you said?” she asked rhetorically. “That was it. ‘Leave and never come back.’”
For a moment Wren considered killing the woman and the other raiders lying in the street. After that, with help from the villagers, it wouldn’t take her long to find the children being held captive. The problem with her plan was that if even one of the children was hurt the villagers would never forgive her. It wouldn’t matter that she’d been trying to protect all of them.
“What happens to the children after we leave?”
The raider cocked her head to one side. “Whatever I want.”
The message was clear. She was in control. It didn’t matter if Wren stayed and fought or walked away, the raider would decide the fate of the children.
“We’ll leave,” said Wren.
After all of her planning, shame at such a defeat burned but Wren knew this wasn’t the end. Her community was only a few months old and their numbers and reputation were growing all the time. She hadn’t come this far just to give up now.
Even as she and Danoph walked away from Gillen’s Jaw a plan began to form in the back of her mind. This had been a defeat, but it had also proven revealing in its own way about the challenges ahead.
The others joined her back on the ridge where they gathered to look down at the village. The crowd in the main street had dispersed but one figure was still standing in the middle of the street, their face turned towards Wren and the others. Even without embracing the Source she knew who it was. The raider stood alone and unafraid in defiance to send a clear message to her.
“What do we do now?” asked Kimme. “Are we really going to leave?”
“No. You and the others are going to go home. Danoph and I will join you soon.”
“Where are you going?”
Wren made herself smile. “To face the enemy.”
They walked back to where they’d tied up the horses and together she and Danoph watched the others ride away. When they were out of earshot he turned to face Wren.
“For someone who was just outwitted, you seem unusually calm.”
Around the world the Drassi were known as peerless warriors who were without fault, but even for the most skilled among her people, victory was not guaranteed. Drassi warriors had been defeated in the past, and there would be more in the future, but the way they maintained their reputation was to adapt.
“Every defeat is a chance to learn,” said Wren, quoting her grandfather. “Besides, the raiders revealed a lot more about themselves than they realised.”
“Such as?”
“I know a lot more about the tactics Boros is willing to use. I will not stoop to that level, but it doesn’t mean I have to keep thinking in straight lines. The normal response would be to retreat as we’ve been told, and perhaps mount an attack on Gillen’s Jaw, in force, at a later date. The last thing the raiders would expect us to do is follow them back to their camp.”
Danoph understood what she was planning and smiled. It wouldn’t make sense for just two of them to follow the raiders home. So far they’d been able to keep the location of their community a secret and Boros had done the same. Once she had an idea of where to find their camp, Wren could start making a different kind of plan.
“What else did they reveal?” asked Danoph, raising an eyebrow as Wren grinned at him.
“I know more about their leader as an individual. What they’re capable of and how far they’re willing to go to get what they want.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because we just met Boros,” said Wren.
CHAPTER 26
Tianne stared at herself in the mirror, lingering on the clothes the Regent had provided. It was her new uniform as a mage of Zecorria. The grey jacket was longer than she was used to, extending past her waist, but it was lightweight and made to fit her perfectly by the royal tailor. The single blue star on her chest, over her heart, denoted her rank. She was the first of the Regent’s new cadre.
Her white cotton shirt and black trousers were equally smart and the leather of her new boots was soft and comfortable.
There were a few details about her reflection she didn’t like, but Tianne thought they would fade with time. Her naturally pale skin seemed washed out from being indoors so much. It was a remnant from her ordeal in the cell and a lack of food. Now she had rich, filling meals every day and never went hungry. Although her cheeks weren’t lean any more, there was still a gauntness about her face, mostly around the eyes.
That brought her to the most visible reminder of her imprisonment. Despite the lavish care, and treatment from the Regent’s personal doctor, she still had a livid pink scar above her right eyebrow. Shaped like a sickle, it was an ugly, swollen thing that would fade in time, but never truly disappear. She hated it and wished she could use her magic to heal it. Part of her felt like crying about the disfigurement. She told herself not to be so childish and stupid. To be grateful she hadn’t died in that cell. She didn’t want to think what could have happened if the Regent hadn’t come to her rescue.
She tied her hair back in a tight ponytail with a piece of leather, tucking loose strands of black hair behind her ears. Giving her reflection one last look, Tianne wondered if she’d changed all that much. If she met someone from her old life on the street, would they recognise her? Did she want them to any more?
With many questions and no answers, she left her rooms and was immediately shadowed by two Royal Guards. They walked behind her at a respectful distance and Tianne knew better than to try and engage them in conversation. Each of them took their jobs very seriously and she never heard any small talk from them compared with other guards and soldiers around the palace. A pool of silence spread out from each when they were on duty. She hoped they were different people out of uniform, but staring into their hard eyes she saw little in the way of empathy or a sense of humour.
Three more guards joined her at the outer gate of the palace. Even though Tianne was the youngest by many years, the leader of the squad, a tall woman with a scar on her left cheek, deferred to her.
“Shall we proceed?” It sounded like a real question but Tianne had the impression the woman was merely humouring her. If she said no the guard would probably just drag her into the street by her hair. It seemed as if everyone in Zecorria, including the Royal Guards, had a lot to learn about mages. It was up to her. She was the first and had always known it was going to be an uphill challenge. Tianne squared her shoulders and raised her chin.
“Lead the way,” she said, smiling to hide her true feelings.
From the moment they left the safety of the palace Tianne noticed people staring at her. At first they watched her with open suspicion and hostility, thinking she was a prisoner of the Royal Guards. When it became apparent she was with them they paid enough attention to notice her uniform. Thinking she was nothing more than another palace servant was liberating and after a while people ignored her completely. It made a pleasant change to the hostile stares and anger she’d experienced a few days earlier. Part of her also felt guilty, that in order to be accepted by her people she had to hide her natural ability. Anything associated with magic was instantly seen as dangerous and destructive. It was going to take a long time to change people’s minds.
“This way,” said Scarface, gesturing for Tianne to follow her down a side street. She hadn’t bothered to tell Tianne her name, so she’d given her a suitable nickname.
“Who is first on the list?” she asked, hoping for some conversation.
For a moment it seemed as if Scarface wouldn’t answer but then changed her mind. “Frohake claims to be a healer. He’s been charging people a lot of money, sometimes everything they have, in return for a cure. We need to know if he’s genuine.”
If there was a genuine healer it would be an enormous boon for the Regent, but also mages in general. Learning to heal was incredibly difficult, but if Frohake possessed the skill it would be a positive first step in convincing the people of Herakion that magic could be a force for good.
Tianne knew Master Yettle could cure almost anything, given enough time, and some at the Red Tower claimed Eloise’s skill exceeded his. There was even a rumour that she could regrow organs and missing limbs. Tianne wasn’t sure if that was true, but there were numerous stories about how Eloise had healed herself after being severely injured during the war. If only she’d been here, or Tianne was better at healing, it would make all this much simpler.
Even at this early hour the line of people waiting to see Frohake extended down the street and then back up the other side. Most of those in the queue were locals, but there were also two Morrin and a handful of stout Yerskani. There were a number of families standing together and people of all ages waiting to be healed. Many of them were coughing or wheezing, others were wrapped in bandages and a few had an arm in a sling or rested heavily on a crutch. The Royal Guards bellowed for them to clear a path down the middle of the street rather than try to squeeze through. Tianne had the impression they just wanted the sick and injured to keep their distance in case they were contagious.
At the front of the line an old man wrapped in a blanket was sitting on the steps. She thought he was asleep but as they approached he stood up suddenly.
“Are you Frohake?” he asked, staring at Tianne with cloudy white eyes.
“No, I’m sorry,” she said.
“Royal Guards,” said Scarface, speaking over her. “We’re here on the Regent’s business. Step back.”
The old man turned his face towards Scarface. “Need some healing, does he?”
Before she had a chance to answer the front door opened and everyone waiting scrambled to their feet. A tall buxom redhead from Seveldrom came out and everyone visibly wilted when they saw it wasn’t Frohake. He appeared a moment later, his arm around another scantily dressed woman who he waved off.
Frohake was dressed only in a pair of loose trousers and his open shirt showed scratches on his chest from someone’s fingernails. Tianne had to admit that he was handsome, with his oiled beard, luscious curly black hair and swarthy features, but even before he spoke Tianne knew she didn’t like him.
His arrogance was apparent in the way he stood, as if the whole world owed him a debt. When he scanned the desperate crowd like a merchant taking a stock count, she knew he had no compassion. She also didn’t like the way his eyes lingered on the most attractive women. She could guess how he asked for payment for those without money.
“Are you Frohake?” asked Scarface, and he turned his gaze on the Royal Guard. If his dazzling smile normally had women going weak at the knees Scarface was immune.
“Indeed I am,” he said, reaching out to touch her cheek, surprising everyone. “I could take care of that scar, if you want?”
“And how much would it cost me?” sneered Scarface.
“For a woman as beautiful as you, no charge.”
Scarface snorted and turned to Tianne. “Get on with it.”
“Who is this?” asked Frohake, noticing her for the first time. Tianne did her best to meet his eyes and not stare at his muscled chest. “What’s this all about?”
“We’re here to test you,” said Scarface with a nasty grin. “There have been a number of reports that you’re a fraud.”
It was only then that Tianne noticed two of the Royal Guards were missing
. Frohake’s eyes widened briefly but his calm mask quickly returned. “Is that necessary?”
“Inside,” said Scarface, shoving him backwards into his own home. Tianne went next and two Royal Guards took up their posts just outside the front door.
The exterior of Frohake’s home was modest but inside it resembled a junk shop as it was littered with piles of random belongings. There were stacks of silver ornaments, paintings, expensive silk clothing and dozens of crystal figurines sitting on shelves. No doubt he’d taken them as compensation when people didn’t have the gold.
Frohake stumbled into the room and started to move towards the back door of the house when Scarface’s voice stopped him. “I’ve two more guards stationed at the rear. There’s nowhere to run.”
When he turned around there was still a smile on his face, but it was brittle. “I was just going to get us some drinks.”
“Of course,” said Scarface with a smile like a cat about to eviscerate a tasty mouse. “Sit.” She pointed at a plush chair that was piled high with silk cushions. Realising he was trapped, Frohake sank into the chair trying to appear completely at ease.
Tianne pulled up a plain wooden chair and sat down opposite, just out of arm’s reach.
“And what happens now?” asked Frohake, his eyes flicking between her and Scarface.
“Show me,” said Tianne, already reaching out with her senses towards him.
“I can’t. There’s nothing to heal,” he said with a peculiar laugh. She gestured at the scar on her face and he just shrugged. “It’s barely noticeable.”
“Try anyway,” she said, sensing a faint echo from the Source. He definitely had some magic, but she wondered about his level of skill.
“Very well,” he said, lowering his head and taking a deep breath. With a dramatic wave of his arms colourful balls of red and blue light appeared in the air. They glowed and seemed to be humming at different pitches. Each was smaller than an apple and as they zipped around the room in a whirlwind of light and sound Tianne had to admit it looked impressive. The collection of light globes clustered around her head and she felt a faint tingling sensation as the notes merged into one chorus that was in perfect harmony. Frohake was breathing hard from the strain and after only a short time he let out a long sigh and the lights vanished.
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