Magefall

by Stephen Aryan

  The Silent Order had left their mark beside some of the bodies. Now it was her turn.

  CHAPTER 42

  Morganse was supposed to be reading the stack of reports waiting on her desk, but instead she was staring out of the window at the city below. It was still early in the evening but she had a half-empty glass of wine in her hand and it wasn’t her first. Overhead the grey sky was turning black and spots of lights were appearing in the buildings as candles and lanterns were lit. The sea of glowing embers began to spread and snatches of music drifted through the air.

  Despite the hour she was already tired. For once she just wanted to spend an evening sitting in the back of a tavern, drinking and singing along with the crowd. As a young woman, and not yet old enough to be recognised in public, she and some friends had sneaked out and done just that. Even though none of them had come to any harm the King, her father, had been furious. That night of revelry seemed like a long time ago.

  She swirled the red liquid around the glass and drained the rest, not really savouring the flavour. It tasted too bitter and metallic, like blood. Perhaps she should have chosen a bottle of white instead.

  The city seemed so quiet from up here. Everyone down there just wanted to live in peace. If only they knew the price of their freedom. She was contemplating another glass of wine when the sound of approaching footsteps drew her attention. There was only one person who walked like that who had access to her office. Morganse poured herself another glass and went back to the window.

  As she’d expected Tammy came stomping into the room without being announced. “Do you know your assistant is asleep at his desk?” she asked.

  Morganse glanced over her shoulder. “Let him sleep. He’s been working late for several nights.”

  The Queen was expecting explosive anger from her new Khevassar but instead Tammy seemed deflated. “Are you not going to shout at me?”

  “I’m working up to it,” said Tammy with a wry smile.

  “Drink?” said Morganse, lifting her glass.

  “Never acquired a taste for wine.” Tammy sat down with a long sigh that seemed to come from her boots. “I’m surprised to see you drinking.”

  “Isn’t there something in the book of the Maker about raising a glass to the dead?”

  Tammy shook her head. “I wouldn’t know. I never had much time for religion.”

  “I used to visit the Maker’s church every week with my children when they were young.” That also seemed like a long time ago. She was a grandmother now, four times over and a fifth was on the way. Her eldest granddaughter was almost a teenager and already Morganse was looking towards her to take over the throne. But that was still several years away and the problems of today would not go away because she ignored them.

  “Why?” said Tammy. “Why not imprison them?”

  “I could not hold that many prominent figures in the city indefinitely without just cause.”

  “There could be others in the city. The names on the list might not be all of her agents,” said Tammy.

  “I’m sure you’re right, but I’m safe here,” said Morganse, gesturing at the building around her. She had several Royal Guards just down the corridor and more around the palace. After the events of the war additional precautions had been taken to ensure her safety. A clear message had been sent to Akosh. She knew there would be repercussions for such a bold attack but for now the city was back in the hands of people she could trust. A thorough search had been conducted into all the individuals who suddenly found themselves in line for a promotion. None of them were loyal to Akosh.

  “We suspect Akosh has a few loyal mages as well,” said Tammy. “What if she sends someone after you here? I’m not sure the Royal Guards would be able to defend you against a mage.”

  It was something she’d considered but right now didn’t have an answer for. “We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it.”

  “Have you considered my suggestion about asking Balfruss for protection and setting up a school?” asked Tammy.

  “I have, but I don’t think the people are ready. If we were to adopt such an approach it would have to be done in secret.”

  “Majesty, I would advise against that. Keeping it a secret was one of the problems with the Red Tower.”

  “It doesn’t matter. It’s a problem for another day. Has Balfruss returned?” asked Morganse.

  “No, not yet.”

  Morganse had doubts that even if Balfruss was in the city he would be willing to protect her. She had once been instrumental in the introduction of monthly tests by the Seekers but had also banned them, putting more children at risk and heightening people’s fear of magic.

  “We will have to muddle on without Balfruss unless you know of another mage who’s willing to help.” Morganse said it as a joke but from Tammy’s expression she could see the Khevassar was struggling with something. “Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “Yes, your Majesty. Only that I would like one of my Guardians to patrol the palace. Just in case the Royal Guards miss something.” They were the toughest and most skilled soldiers in the country, but she was aware that even they had their limits. A crudely trained mage could best the strongest and most skilled of warriors.

  “I see. And did you have a particular Guardian in mind?”

  Tammy winced. “Yes, your Majesty.”

  The Old Man had always given Morganse the impression that he knew more than she told him during their regular meetings. It seemed as if his replacement was equally adept at keeping secrets.

  “Are you sure they’re loyal?” she asked.

  “I have no doubt, given his history.”

  “Very well,” said the Queen. “Have him report to the palace from tomorrow.”

  “Thank you, Majesty. I think both of us will sleep a little better knowing that he’s here.”

  “Do you think I made the right decision?”

  Tammy took a long time before answering. “I don’t know. Were I in your position, with the same pressures and responsibilities, then perhaps. A wise friend once told me that sometimes the only choices available are bad and worse.”

  “I see the Old Man has been sharing his wisdom,” said Morganse. He’d said the same thing to her more than twenty-five years ago and had repeated it on occasion through the years. They shared a brief smile at the memory before Tammy departed, no doubt to return to her own duties.

  Morganse stared out of the window again noting the sky was now completely dark. A few stars showed overhead, pinpricks of white in the endless black. Spread out below her, hundreds of yellow and amber lights carpeted the ground.

  The door to her office opened again and Dorn shuffled in. He yawned and shook his head, trying to wake himself up. “Do I have another visitor?” she asked.

  “No, Majesty, I wanted to speak to you about something. It’s rather personal.”

  It was highly unusual but she gestured at one of the seats in front of her desk. Dorn was an able and highly organised secretary, if not a particularly thrilling conversationalist. She’d hoped for someone with initiative who would make suggestions, but he seemed content with doing exactly what he was told and nothing more. His loyalty and efficiency gave him some leeway if nothing else.

  “What did you want to talk about?” she asked.

  Dorn took a cloth from his pocket and mopped at his sweating brow. His thinning hair was getting long and she had the feeling he was trying to cover up the bald spot with volume.

  “I’m struggling with your recent decision, your Majesty,” he said, unable to meet her eye.

  Morganse raised an eyebrow but said nothing at first. She was used to discussing her decisions with senior figures in her government, as well as the Khevassar, but never her secretary. Her patience was starting to wear thin. “Which one?” she asked, curious to know how much he’d been eavesdropping.

  Dorn shook his head sadly. “You ordered the murders of almost forty innocent people.”

  The only other pe
rson in the room when she had given that order had been Ben, from the Silent Order. She was confident he hadn’t told anyone and neither would other members of his group. Only a handful of the murders had been openly attributed to the Silent Order. The rest had been made to resemble accidents.

  “If you are unable to carry out your duties any more, I will see that you’re given a similar position elsewhere,” said Morganse.

  “How could you do it?” he asked, looking up at her. The rage simmering behind his eyes was so alien it surprised her. Until this point he’d never shown a hint of passion for anything besides his food.

  “Leave now, or you’ll make it worse for yourself.”

  Dorn remained in his seat and didn’t seem intimidated by her threat. “They were loyal,” he insisted.

  “Get out!” said Morganse, but he continued to ignore her.

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I don’t have to justify my decisions to you. This is your final warning.”

  “Tell me,” he shouted, slamming a fist on the desk.

  “This has gone on long enough.” Her patience had run out. As she stood up to call for a Royal Guard Dorn drew a dagger from his sleeve.

  Morganse froze. Dorn was still the slovenly, overweight man she’d seen every day for months but now there was an unfamiliar coldness to his face.

  “You’re right,” said Dorn, standing up and kicking away his chair. They faced one another with the desk between them. “This has gone on long enough. You’re not fit to be the Queen. You killed loyal servants.”

  “Their loyalty wasn’t to me, or this country.” Morganse looked around her office for a weapon while she kept him talking. The nearest item that might be of use was her glass of wine. She could reach it before he came around the desk. His arms weren’t long enough to stab her from where he was standing. “They would’ve done whatever they were told by Akosh, even if it meant betraying this country.”

  Dorn twitched slightly and Morganse cursed herself for a fool. Her previous secretary had been ancient and had died of old age. He should have retired years ago but had stubbornly held on. When it happened she’d been upset but it hadn’t come as a surprise. No one had suggested an investigation into his death, including her, but now she began to wonder if his demise had been natural. Dorn had been recommended to her by a number of trusted advisers who were probably unaware of his true loyalty.

  “How old were you when Akosh found you?”

  “Three,” he said with an unsettling smile. “Mother saved me from a life of crime, begging or prostitution. I owe her everything.”

  “Ah, Captain,” said Morganse, looking over his shoulder. “I want this man arrested.”

  As Dorn turned around Morganse leaned across her desk and smashed her glass across the side of his head. Wine splashed all over his face and clothes while the glass shattered, shards embedding themselves in his face and neck. Screeching in pain he reeled back, clawing at his face as Morganse ran towards the door.

  Something caught one of her feet and she tripped, landing face down on the tiled floor. Blood ran from her nose but she scrambled to her hands and knees in time to see Dorn coming towards her. One of his eyes was a bloody mess and shards of glass stuck out of his face like a pin cushion. Despite his wounds he still clutched a dagger in one hand which he raised high above his head.

  Morganse scrambled to one side, but felt the edge of the knife on her forearm, drawing a thin line of blood. Kicking out, she caught Dorn on the leg. He cried out in pain and fell over backwards, clipping the back of his head on the desk. Not waiting to see if he was stunned she kicked off her shoes and yanked open the door to her office.

  The next set of doors was closed and when she tried to push them open she found they were locked. Dorn had broken the key in the lock sealing her in with him. She could hear him groaning and moving about. Pounding on the door, she shouted for the guards and then put her ear against the wood.

  “Majesty?” said a muffled voice.

  “He’s trying to kill me. Break down the door!” she shouted and then stepped back.

  Something heavy slammed into the door and Morganse heaved a sigh of relief. It wouldn’t take them long to break it down.

  “Murderer!” shrieked Dorn.

  Morganse turned around in time to see the dagger coming down. She didn’t feel it pierce her flesh and only noticed when she saw the patch of red spreading across the front of her dress.

  Behind her the banging grew louder and she heard wood splintering, but she wasn’t sure why. Dorn was shouting something and she saw him raise the blood-smeared dagger again. With a scream of her own she shoved a hand into his ruined face, driving the shards of glass deeper. Keening like a maimed animal he tripped and fell backwards. Morganse grabbed a heavy book from the nearest shelf and smashed Dorn over the head with it. With his face covered in blood he glared at her so she hit him again and again.

  “Your Majesty!” shouted one of the Royal Guards from somewhere nearby.

  Finally, he dropped the dagger but she brought the book down one more time on his face, smearing the cover with blood and glass.

  A terrible weight settled on Morganse and she fell back suddenly feeling tired and cold. Part of her realised that closing her eyes was a mistake but as the cool surface of the tiled floor touched her face it was so difficult to stay awake. Her eyelids fluttered and then she fell into the black.

  CHAPTER 43

  The tavern was busy when Akosh entered and for once she didn’t mind the crowd. By expending a small amount of her power she was able to disguise herself as a plain-faced woman that no one really noticed. When she sat down at her contact’s table he looked up from his ale in surprise.

  “You’ve got the wrong table,” he said. Akosh let her illusion slip momentarily and his expression transformed. “Apologies, Mother.”

  She replaced the illusion but his grovelling tone remained. “Sit up straight or people will get suspicious,” she told him. He did as ordered and adopted a bored expression that was only partially successful. When the serving girl passed their table Akosh ordered herself a drink and waited until it had arrived before leaning forward.

  “You have news from Yerskania?”

  “Yes, Mother,” he murmured, keeping his voice low but he need not have bothered. The table on her left was occupied by a raucous group of revellers telling jokes and laughing at regular intervals. On her other side a clutch of women were gossiping and beyond them two merchants were haggling loudly about a deal. The noise of the crowd around them almost swallowed his words but she was close enough to hear. She’d chosen this tavern on purpose because it was not one that she’d frequented before. Even her contact was not one she’d met in person until today.

  Before her meeting with Kai she’d become a creature of habit, living a comfortable life as she believed herself safe in Herakion. Eating and drinking at the same bars. Sleeping in the same taverns and always taking the same route to bed through the city. Now she watched every face in the crowd for signs that they were serving another master. Her path here had been strangled and she was confident no one could have followed her. It paid to be cautious. He could have spies anywhere.

  “What’s your name?” she asked.

  “Koyle, Mother.” He bobbed his head and she gritted her teeth. So far no one had noticed his subservience, but it wouldn’t last. She gestured at him to get on with it. “A bird came in this morning. Queen Morganse was attacked in the palace last night,” he said.

  Akosh sat back and took a long gulp of ale to cover her smile. It might take a few days for the news to trickle through to the north, but it would reach here eventually. She’d intended to destabilise Yerskania using her people on the inside, but it could work just as easily by removing the head of the snake. Chaos bred conflict and from that came murder and more orphans in need of a benevolent mother and teacher.

  “Were there any more details?” she asked.

  “Only that the Queen was injured, b
ut no one knows how badly or if she will survive.”

  She might be dying. She might already be dead for that matter. Either option was acceptable.

  The Queen had several daughters who had renounced their claims to the throne, which was why Morganse had been grooming her son for the position. That was until an unfortunate incident that left him castrated. With no clear successor what followed would be a mad scramble for power with lots of backstabbing and chaos. It was an assassin’s dream come true. For the time being it would serve her purpose while she continued to strengthen her hold in the north.

  In some ways Kai had done her a favour. She had become complacent and soft. Thinking of her followers as individuals and herself as human. Kai still terrified her and, if he really wanted to could snuff her out with little effort, but she would not live in fear. Until the time came when she had to face him Akosh would do as she’d always done. If he held up his part of the bargain then she would avoid the clutches of Vargus and the others. If not, there might be a deal to be made to ensure her continued survival. There were always possibilities.

  “That’s wonderful news,” said Akosh, raising her mug to Koyle.

  After finishing her drink she left the tavern with a big smile and decided to attend her next meeting. Part of her was tempted to spend the rest of the day drinking and celebrating. It would be a fun way to pass the time but it was an indulgence and she’d had too many of those lately. For the time being she would focus on her duties, even though she expected the next few hours to be an exercise in tedium.

  As Bollgar had promised he had expanded her network of orphanages in the city. It was customary for her to visit each new orphanage within the first few months. The children would have been told a little about her by now but nothing solidified their belief more than a visit in person from their benevolent and loving god.

  Fixing a caring smile on her face, Akosh pushed open the door of the first orphanage. The matron in charge was delighted to see her and made a point of introducing her to all members of staff before they went on a tour. The building was still in desperate need of repair but there were signs that the money was being put to good use. She could smell fresh paint and see that the floors had recently been scrubbed. A pair of builders were repairing a crumbling wall in one of the bedrooms and elsewhere she saw a carpenter building sets of bunk beds for the children.