The Key To The Grave (#2 The Price Of Freedom)

by Chris Northern

  I pointedly didn't shake my head. It still hurt, I was still dizzy and my limbs were still weak and shaky, my coordination was shot and my vision still blurred.

  “Can you break three hundred?” I asked him.

  “Only if you don't care who gets hurt in the process,” he said.

  I did care. “If you don't do it all at once?”

  He shrugged his narrow shoulders. “Bearing in mind that they move over rough terrain and there are three hours to sunset, let's assume that most will gather by nightfall and then camp before they make their next move. There will be plenty of time for me to cast a variety of spells to enhance you all with everything I have. We attack at night and I take down anything that isn't near our objective while you keep me from getting killed. Yes, we can do it. Shouldn't be much of a challenge, really. Except the unknown quantity of the Necromancers' abilities.”

  “How many of them are there?”

  “Two with the group we chase, three with the other main group. No others that I saw. And Tahal, of course, but he is a minor talent and no threat to me.”

  I glanced back at Dubaku. He stood nearby, his attention down the track we followed. He must have been aware of my gaze but did not look my way. I let it go. There was no sense asking him. I knew he would slay Necromancers when they were within his reach. And his own abilities gave me a hint of what the Necromancers might be capable of.

  I turned back to Balaran. “Can you protect Jocasta?”

  “As soon as I see her I can make her safer, but nothing is certain.”

  Not good enough. “Sapphire?”

  He was at my side, silent until now. “I'll make it my first priority.”

  I worried at the problem, thoughts fighting through my pounding head. It wasn't going to get any better if we didn't act. There are more forces gathering that would add to their numbers or give them a supporting force to retreat back to during the following day. The timing was good for a night attack that might break all resistance. Even if Balaran enhanced our horses and we caught them before nightfall, before they gathered more forces, they would still have ample warning of our coming, whereas a night attack would lessen the risk that they might attempt to use Jocasta as a bargaining point or, gods forbid, kill her from spite. I didn't see a better course of action.

  “I can reach Jocasta without being seen. I will be beside her from before the beginning of the action and strive to keep her safe.”

  I turned slowly. Dubaku still wasn't looking my way, but it was he who had spoken. The first words he had spoken to me since the burning of Learneth and I didn't know how to respond to them. So I didn't try. Instead I turned back to face Balaran, who waited my decision.

  “I'll need your spare stone,” I said.

  The battle mage's eyes narrowed and he frowned. “Don't try and use stone, Sumto,” he shook his head in negation. “You are not fit to use it.”

  I wondered for a moment if he meant generally or specifically because of my concussion. It didn't matter. It wasn't for me. “Give me a piece of stone, Balaran. I'll pay twice the value.”

  He winced.

  “You just found my weak point,” he said with a smile and reached into his clothing, bringing forth a twenty carat violet stone that felt warm in my hand as he passed it over. “Don't use it,” he cautioned. “The price is seven hundred and twenty thousand.” It was my turn to wince. “Standard interest rates,” he smiled at my reaction. “The enemy better have plenty of gold, commander, or you will be in my debt for a while.”

  I nodded. “Agreed.”

  “I've no idea why you want it but I mean it Sumto; don't use it. Your brains are scrambled. Anything could happen if your spellform isn't perfect.”

  “Don't worry,” I told him. “Counters are simple.”

  He grimaced. “Yes. Counters are. Still,” he said, eyeing me speculatively, gaze flickering briefly to my forehead and back to meet my gaze. “Don't use it.”

  I smiled. He knew I didn't need it for the use I'd claimed. But he didn't know why I wanted it. With this stone in her hands, Jocasta could protect herself. And that was what I intended. That she had stolen knowledge from the colleges was a secret she had entrusted to me, and I also intended that that secret be kept. Her use of the stone would have to be subtle and circumspect if Balaran was not to notice it.

  But I thought I could trust her with that.

  #

  A scattering of small fires marked our target as we rode forward in the night under a blanket of silence. Dubaku had gone ahead on foot and was perhaps already in the camp, closing on Jocasta so that he could stand ready to protect her for as long as necessary. If all went well, that would not be long. I'd given him instructions and the stone that I had bought from Balaran in a moment when I was confident we would not be observed. We would ride close, dismount and form a line. Then move fast in a lightning strike to the centre of their camp, killing as we went. As soon as Jocasta was located, Balaran would be free to let loose with whatever magic he chose. By then it was likely that she too would be able to act in her own defence. I had no doubts about how the engagement would go. A battle mage and eight fully enhanced veteran fighting men would cut through them like a hot knife through butter. Nine would have been better but Balaran had refused to cast any enhancements on me.

  “You are recovering from a concussion, Sumto. If I enhance your sense and fill you with strength and speed you will likely die of brain haemorrhage,” Balaran had hissed irritably. “I won't do it.”

  There had been no moving him on the subject, so as I rode toward the enemy I saw only as well as I would on any other moonlit night. I could feel the gentle pressure of ethereal armor against my skin. He had not stinted there, nor on the enhancements to the strength and keenness of the blade I held.

  We came to a halt and dismounted. My balance was still not up to much, my vision still blurred and I felt weak as a kitten. I would not attempt any fancy footwork, keep each movement simple and solid and just work my way through them as best I could.

  Deep in the enemy camp two shocking columns of fire erupted into the air ahead of us in quick succession, each a burning man staggering and flailing in the night. Dubaku, I thought. He had begun the fight before we were there, and that could only mean that Jocasta was at risk.

  “Now,” I cried.. And began to run.

  Once before I had taken part in just such a night attack, though with far greater numbers involved, and then I had been enhanced as thoroughly as my men. Now I had a glimpse of what the enemy had seen when they fought us. My men moved rapidly away from me, taking half a dozen strides for every one I could manage, eating up the ground and fading like ghosts in the night as the fires suddenly died, leaving the scene lit only by faint moonlight. The sounds of cries and blows being struck rang out in a sudden clamour that was soon joined by the screams of the maimed and the cries of the enemy rousing from their rest all around us.

  I moved as fast as I could over broken ground in poor light. I was totally unchallenged as I headed into the camp. There was no one in their wake alive to challenge me.

  A roiling mass of flame suddenly rolled out from the centre of the camp, lighting up the night and forcing my eyes closed for an instant while my sight adjusted to the brightness. A shadowy figure moved suddenly my way and I brought my sword up into a simple low guard that was instantly brushed away. Someone gripped my wrist and a blood-spattered face came close to mine.

  “She isn't here,” Sapphire said. He was beside me and guiding me forward in an instant. “We need to get in closer to Balaran or be at risk from what he's doing.”

  What he was doing, of course, was killing them.

  No wonder we are pre-eminent on the battlefield, I thought. Each one of us is thirty of them; more than thirty, a hundred. I'd known it all intellectually, but now I had felt a taste of it from the enemy's point of view. I hadn't even reached the fight before it was all but over. I hadn't seen more than a glimpse of it. The only potential enemy I'd seen had
brushed my weapon aside without effort and if he had chosen could have cut me down and moved on in the same fast, fluid, effortless movement. I was literally no threat to him.

  And then there were the battle mages. Free to act, Balaran was turning the night into an abattoir all on his own and we hurried to get close enough not to be mistaken for enemies.

  “You are sure she isn't here?” Bitter disappointment washed through me.

  “Dubaku saw them leave almost as he arrived. He followed them to the edge of the camp; two Necromancers, Tahal and Jocasta. They were arguing. Then Tahal raised a stone and burned the Necromancers. That was what we saw before the fight started.”

  “What?” That didn't make sense. Why would Tahal turn against his allies now? What was he playing at?

  The enemy was breaking as we came within the protective cordon of soldiers. In their midst stood Balaran, stone in hand. I caught a glimpse of his pale face as he looked at us, then turned back to his work. A sudden fog of green gas leapt into existence and spread out into the night, glowing faintly, enveloping a confusion of figures, some pacing toward us and others attempting to flee. Screams began to issue from the sickly fog and I winced at the terror and pain conveyed by their hopeless cries that warped into choking wails and soon failed entirely. A few thin figures limped from the fog, still heading our way with mindless determination.

  “What was that?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

  “Acidic fog,” Balaran answered calmly, turning slowly and throwing more sorcery into the night. “I'm experimenting. Seeing what other than fire will most readily bring down the animated corpses.” He turned and pointed at the drifting bank of acidic fog. “See?”

  Highlighted against the faintly glowing mist that was drifting away from us I could see the dead begin to fall, see muscle and tendon turn to liquid and drip from the animated corpses until they simply no longer functioned.

  “We will have to ride over that,” I observed.

  “Don't worry. It breaks down rapidly. Designed so that troops can manoeuvre over the same ground without coming to harm.”

  “Good, because we are moving on as soon as you can wrap things up here.”

  “Of course, your quarry has fled. Any thoughts on that?”

  I shook my head. “None, but I don't like it.”

  He shrugged, casting around for more enemies. “I think we can move on now.” He sounded almost disappointed.

  I picked out two soldiers and sent them back for the horses. They moved fast, heading back the way we had come, fading into the night as silently as ghosts.

  “Why would he turn against his allies here and now? Where is he going and why?”

  “Good questions. Probably fear had something to do with it; it is clear he knew we were coming, after all, and must have known what would happen when we reached here,” Balaran gestured into the slaughter that surrounded us.

  I picked out Dubaku's subdued form. He was close but seemingly paying no attention to us. “What were they arguing about?”

  Dubaku didn't look at me. “Tahal was demanding that he be taken to the grave at once; one Necromancer was raging that it was forbidden to outsiders and the other that it was already promised but Tahal must wait and be escorted there. Tahal was carrying Jocasta over one shoulder. He settled the argument with fire, then climbed into the saddle of his waiting horse, pulled Jocasta before him in the saddle and rode away before anyone reacted. Around him, men suddenly became confused. I think he was responsible. No one followed them in the moments before you attacked.”

  Tahal was clearly more accomplished than he had led me to believe when we were imprisoned together in the Eyrie, and I said so.

  “Tahal? Oh, yes, he is quite accomplished for a young man,” Balaran allowed. “I have had occasion to teach him myself.”

  I turned a slow angry glare his way.

  “What?” Balaran protested. “He is a patron; he paid; I taught him; it's what we do.”

  I shrugged away my ire. He was right. I was just irritated that I hadn't known. “How accomplished?”

  “Not a threat to me, don't fear for that. I'll bring him to heel easily enough once we catch up to him. I admit a certain curiosity to hear him defend his actions.”

  I frowned. “Of course he will have to be prosecuted?”

  A little wintry smile passed over Balaran's lips and was gone. “Of course. He is a patron after all, and we can't pass summary justice on our own, no matter how tempted we might be; where would that end?”

  Civil war and chaos.

  Still, I thought as the sound of our horses being brought intruded into my awareness, we were a long way from home and accidents happen. I caught Sapphire's eye as we moved toward our mounts but he kept his expression utterly neutral, giving me no clue to his thoughts.

  As we rode on the sky lightened ahead of us. Not with the false dawn that was many hours away yet. With fire.

  #

  The settlement roiled in chaos below the ridge where we sat our mounts and assessed the situation. Bigger than other settlements we had passed, this nestled in a shallow vale criss-crossed with irrigation ditches that watered the fertile ground. The walled settlement at the centre of the vale was the size of a city fort but not similar in any other way. A bank of earth topped by a wooden palisade ran in an uneven circle, enclosing an area where wooden buildings were scattered randomly, ranging from clusters of hovels to larger buildings standing alone. Here and there livestock were penned; panicked by the fires, some had broken free, adding to the chaos. At the centre of the settlement a second ditch and bank topped by a palisade stood in an island of clear space; within this inner wall there was but a single large building. Between the two walls a dozen fires raged through the settlement and figures scurried to fight them. There was no clear sign of Jocasta and Tahal; and apart from the otherwise inexplicable fires, no sign that he was even there. I struggled against the temptation to use the seeker spell, knowing that I was not fit to do so, warned by Balaran against any magic while I was still suffering the effects of concussion. With the spell in action I would be able to follow him even if I were blind, but I dared not attempt to cast it.

  “Can you see them?” I asked again, frustrated that Balaran had again refused to augment my vision. I wanted to be moving but we would never find them in the chaos below, not unless we knew where to look. From this distance I could only pick out those figures that moved in the light cast by the raging fires. Even as I asked the question another fire bloomed suddenly, lighting an area deeper in the town.

  “I see them now,” Balaran allowed. “There,” he pointed. “He rides toward the centre.”

  I fought my blurring vision, hoping to see even though I knew it was wasted effort. Even with clear vision I'd be making little sense of the burning town without augmentation. “And?”

  “Jocasta is with him, before him on the horse.”

  Another fire sprang into life, raging through a building closer to the centre than any before. “That's him,” Balaran confirmed, and I scanned the immediate area, catching a glimpse of a horse and rider for an instant before he moved into the lee of a building. I fixed my attention there, searching for where he might re-appear into my line of sight but if he then emerged I didn't see him. My hands were knotted into fists at the reins as I fought with frustration and the desire to move.

  “Ah,” Balaran said. “That helps.”

  “What?” I snapped as the pause lengthened.

  “He is interrogating a Necromancer,” Sapphire supplied. “With magic, I assume.”

  “Yes,” Balaran offered, “He is not being subtle. There, the man folds and we have our answer, I think. The hall at the centre of the town. That is where he wants to go.”

  “We could have guessed that, dammit,” I snarled and kicked my horse into motion.

  “Yes, but we would not have been sure,” Balaran's voice was calm behind me.

  I paid him no heed, struggling to keep my seat as the horse moved
under me in what would normally have been an entirely predictable way, but now I was struggling to accommodate myself to the movement, my body refusing to react as swiftly as I directed. Balaran and the seven soldiers under my command outpaced me, seemingly unaware that they were forging ahead as I was forced to reduce the pace or be thrown from the saddle. Dubaku also passed me, head down and attention fixed ahead. Only Sapphire stayed with me.

  “Bastard,” I snarled.

  “He is playing his own game, now.” Sapphire said, matching his mount's pace to mine.

  “I know. But what?”

  Sapphire shrugged. “I can guess. The Necromancers' powers come from somewhere.”

  “The grave,” I said.

  He looked at me, suddenly appraising, his face half-lit by the fires ahead. “You know that for a fact?”

  The memory had just come to me. Tahal and Ishal Laharek arguing in the night as they followed our trail. I'd watched from the barricade, and listened. I related the events to Sapphire, my attention fixed on our goal and my seething frustration that I could not get there faster. “Tahal wanted to be taken there. He was impatient but Ishal was not cooperating, he had other goals.”

  Sapphire nodded. “Then we can guess that he found out he was close, that it was located here, in this town. He knew we would win that fight and his allies were superfluous to him. Best we not leave him alone with his prize longer than necessary, I think. We will have to move faster.” He nudged his mount closer to mine, then he stood in the saddle and in one lithe movement he stepped across to the rump of my horse.

  I controlled the horse's twitch of surprise at the unexpected weight. “What are you doing?”