The Swordsman's Oath toe-2

by Juliet E. McKenna

  “There’ve been several poor harvests in Ensaimin lately,” commented Halice. “That sort of thing always leads to new cults. They don’t last.”

  We crossed to the other side of the vast hall and found the same mix of the familiar and the strange in the ranks of the female deities. Here a weeping Arimelin was somehow the Mother of Sorrow, not the Weaver of Dreams, which effectively stifled my sudden urge to light some incense with a plea to have Planir’s schemes frustrated. We moved on and I saw that Larasion was carved in red-brown heartwood and crowned with a garland of wheat, styled Mahladin, Harvest Queen. Drianon’s role seemed limited to the supplications of pregnant women, while presumably unmarried girls were queuing in front of the icily remote Halcarion in her more traditional guise of the Moon Maiden. She looked to the beams with a blank marble stare while, next to her, grandmothers waited patiently to bring their entreaties to Ahd Maewelin, the Winter Hag, an ancient slab of oak bearing a primitive image with sharp, quelling features.

  “There he is!” sighed Shiv with relief, pushing through the throng toward a stout man with a pale face and stooped shoulders. As we drew nearer I was a little startled to realize this Kerrit was scarcely a handful of years older than myself or Shiv, rather than half a generation as I had first thought. He was deep in conversation with a mild-faced little man in a rather dusty and faded robe; I wondered how this ancient acolyte managed to avoid being forcibly taken to a tailor by the other elegantly turned-out priests.

  “Shivvalan!” Kerrit smiled at our mage with broad recognition. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

  He turned to bid the old priest a sincere farewell and to tuck a sheaf of notes into a smart leather satchel slung over one shoulder.

  “So, what brings you to the delta city?” He made his way through the press of people, pushing without compunction or apology.

  “Can we talk somewhere a little more private?”

  I glanced at Shiv in some surprise; anyone trying to eavesdrop on us here would either have to be standing under our noses or rely on us shouting at the tops of our voices.

  “This way.” Kerrit led us to a comparatively quiet corner behind a representation of Saedrin at the door between the worlds. This offered excellent cover for anyone who might want to creep up and overhear our discussions, but before I could move to watch the approach Halice had stepped forward to deal with it. I added this to the growing list of things I was going to have to discuss with Shiv before he drove the rest of us demented with his growing paranoia.

  “So, do you have a letter from Planir for me?” Kerrit’s eyes were still on the icon of Maewelin, his mind clearly busy elsewhere.

  “No. We’re here on the trail of some Ice Islanders who’ve stolen some artifacts,” said Shiv baldly.

  That got Kerrit’s undivided attention. “They’re here, in the city?”

  Shiv nodded. “But they’re using some kind of aetheric influence to evade our scrying.”

  “Are they now?” Kerrit breathed, eyes bright. “That’s something I’d—”

  “Can you help Shiv get around it?” interrupted Livak as she saw the bookish mage’s expression grow remote with speculation.

  “Pardon? No, not as such, my dear. You see, being mage-born myself, aetheric incantations are ineffective when I try them.”

  I could see that Livak’s patience, never very long, was rapidly shortening.

  “Do you have any knowledge that one of us could use to try and counter whatever it is they are doing?” I had some difficulty keeping my own tone level.

  A slight frown wrinkled Kerrit’s bland forehead. “I’d need to see what they were doing, really, but I think there are a few things we could try.”

  “Can you come with us?” asked Shiv politely.

  “It’s not really very convenient.” Kerrit looked distinctly put out. “You see that old priest, he has six of what he calls miracles that he claims he can use to heal illness, old wounds, even some birth defects. I really must get some more details from him, try to—”

  “What about broken bones?” Halice broke in suddenly. I felt a pang as I saw the desperate hope on her plain face.

  Kerrit looked momentarily puzzled until he registered her twisted leg and crutch. “He didn’t say so. The thing is, Shiv, he seems to be able to make effective incantations on every attempt. I really do need to find out more about him, discover what he’s doing, examine some of his cures and see how valid they are.”

  “He’s something special, then, the old man?” Livak’s curiosity was inevitably getting the better of her. At least that was keeping her temper reined in.

  “Oh yes,” Kerrit assured her, his expression animated. “You could take ten priests from here and ask them all to perform the same rite and you’d have anything from five to ten different results. I’m trying to find out why.”

  “I appreciate that’s important—” began Shiv.

  “I don’t suppose the old priest is going anywhere,” I spoke over him firmly. “The Elietimm might well do so. I’m sure you can spare us the rest of the day to help with something so crucial to Planir’s work.”

  The idea that he might find himself answering to the Archmage evidently weighed a coin or two with Kerrit. “Very true, very true.”

  “Let’s go then.”

  I stepped forward to help Halice force a way toward the doors. As I did so a disturbance in the corner of my eye made me turn my head. Some way off in the press of people a tall man in a dark cloak was caught up with a fat woman who seemed determined to prevent him getting ahead of her. As Viltred looked, the man stared past me, straight at the old wizard, recognition evident and expression hostile. He pushed the fat woman aside, ignoring her cries, and headed straight for Viltred.

  “Viltred, do you know that man?” I nodded my head in what I hoped wasn’t too obvious a gesture.

  “No.” Viltred frowned and fear flared in his faded eyes. “I’ve never seen him before.”

  I saw the gray-cloaked man looking to his left and right as he came toward us; following his gaze with growing apprehension, I saw that he was not alone. I spotted three more of the gray-clad men and as one forced his way past a group of children, his cloak was swept back to reveal a familiar black livery.

  “Elietimm,” I concluded tersely. “We need to get out of here now.”

  “This way.” Kerrit turned and hurried along behind the line of icons, leading the five of us to a small door presumably for the use of the priests.

  I found a knot of fear was tying itself in my stomach and fought to calm my suddenly ragged breathing. Silently cursing the memory of Elietimm magic that could reduce me to this, I glanced at Livak and was at least a little comforted to see she too was unnaturally pale and gripping her sword hilt with white knuckles.

  “Can you hide us?” I snapped at Shiv.

  “Give me a moment.” He paused and I caught a flicker of blue light between his fingers as he closed his eyes in concentration. “Viltred, can you help me?”

  The mages stood, working together with some difficulty as they had to conceal the magelight that manipulating the elements usually called forth. I watched with Livak and Halice as the gray-cloaked men began to move in a line down the length of the temple, searching for us like beaters springing game for a hawk.

  “There, that should shield us.”

  The air around us shimmered, like haze on sun-scorched sand, and we moved cautiously into the open, heading for the open door. I held my breath as a thin-faced Elietimm scanned the crowd encircling us, his eyes passing over the wizards. I was about to breathe a sigh of relief when the man’s gaze returned to us; he started visibly and evidently saw right through the concealing spell. The Elietimm looked around for his colleagues and caught the gaze of one. I felt certain some sort of communication must have passed between them; the second man started to push his way unerringly in our direction, despite having had no clear sight of us because of the statues in the way.

  “They’ve seen us. Mov
e.” My hand hovered over my sword hilt but I really didn’t want to draw a blade in here, not knowing how the priests would react. The last thing we needed was to be held up by an outraged religious rabble.

  “Curse it.” Shiv dropped his spell with a muttered handful of obscenities and began forcing a path to the door. Seeing him abandon stealth, the gray-cloaked men did the same. Taking the rear guard I heard gasps of outrage and then screams as one of the Elietimm answered a priest’s remonstrance with the metallic rasp of a drawn sword. Looking back I saw people hurrying to get out of the way, but the crowd was sufficiently thick that we still made it to the door ahead of our would-be captors.

  “Run!” I commanded as we ran down a flight of steps into the comparatively open expanse of the temple square. Livak caught Halice under one arm and they half ran, half hopped together. I tried to stifle my irritation. This was just the sort of situation I had feared, where a cripple must either be abandoned or put everyone in danger.

  We put a fountain between us and the temple and I snatched a glance backward. The gray-cloaked men had fanned out, drawing a cordon through the crowd. I turned and looked at the far side of the square; if these were the beaters, where was the hawker? Putting my hand to my sword, my senses suddenly swam. Dizziness threatened to overwhelm me and I clapped one hand to my head, cursing. When I opened my eyes I gasped and real panic threatened to stifle me. I was no longer in the midst of a crowded city square but standing in some wilderness, thickets all around me, tussocks underfoot, placid birdsong and skeins of mist replacing the bustle of the Relshaz morning.

  “Get a grip on yourself,” I cursed viciously, gripping my sword hilt. I thought I heard a soft sigh behind me and spun round, sword drawn in an instant, but there was no one there. I gritted my teeth and concentrated on my rage rather than my fear and the world dissolved around me again, my sight clearing to reveal Livak staring at me with dismay naked in her own eyes. I swallowed on a sudden rush of nausea and felt sweat beaded cold between my shoulder blades.

  “Your eyes, Rysh, your eyes! They went completely blue!”

  Our gazes locked, frozen on the memory of the black pits that had been Aiten’s eyes when the Elietimm sorcerers had reached inside his mind and taken over his body to try to kill us all.

  “There is someone using aetheric magic on us again, Shiv!” Livak’s voice was shrill as she looked over my shoulder and I turned to see the pursuit was drawing closer.

  Sudden memory spurred me to action. “The gorgets! Shiv, Viltred, their magicians wore gorgets at their necks. Can you see one?”

  We halted suddenly in the midst of the bustling crowd, looking all ways, Halice and Livak ready with their daggers, my hand on my sword.

  “There!”

  I turned to look where Shiv was pointing and my heart sank as I picked out a handful of Elietimm on the far side of the square, gold bright at the throat of the central figure. The hunter evidently had his fowling dogs with him, as well as his beaters.

  Viltred drew a deep breath and his eyes lost their focus as he began to draw power into himself.

  “Getting out of this is going to take direct action, I think,” he murmured. He flung his hands at the enemy in an abrupt gesture. I saw the air in front of the man’s eyes glow and shimmer, effectively blinding him. A man next to him stumbled and fell and, even at this distance, I could see confusion reflected in his colleagues’ faces.

  “Rope of air?” Kerrit asked in genial inquiry.

  “Round their feet,” confirmed Shiv with a grim face.

  “Can we discuss the finer points of magecraft later?” Livak snapped with understandable irritation.

  I spoke in almost the same breath. “Come on!”

  We moved fast, Shiv forcing a path through the crowd with scant apology. When he saw another gray cloak ahead of us Viltred sent a sudden blow that stunned the man like a clubbed fish. As his colleague fell, a second hunter broke from the line and headed for the spot. We hurried for the gap in the cordon, shoving people aside with increasing force.

  The old wizard suddenly doubled up, gasping for breath; Halice and Livak grabbed him and I looked around for the source of the attack. One of the gray-clad men had climbed on to the fountain’s pedestal and was staring at us, mouth moving, a silver sheen at his collar. Shiv wasted no breath on curses, but green light glittered in his fingers as a long arm of sparkling water snatched the enchanter and held him down in the basin. Water splashed high above the pedestal as a despairing hand rose and was dragged down again by greedy splashes, soaking the bystanders. People began to move away from the fountain, exclamations of confusion rising sharply above the murmur of the square.

  I tried to move but Kerrit was in my way, staring in confusion.

  “For all the elements revealed, that man was working no magic at all.” He sounded positively affronted and turned to rummage in his satchel for paper and ink.

  “Later,” I snapped, grabbing his arm. “Viltred?”

  “I’m all right.” He didn’t look at all well, with a bluish tinge around his lips and incipient panic mingled with the pain in his eyes.

  “Shiv!” Livak’s gasp pulled all our heads around and the throng parted for a breath to show us a gorget-wearer thrusting bodies aside as he headed directly for us. All three wizards spat incoherent exclamations at the Elietimm and he exploded in a scatter of azure and scarlet light. Shock scattered the crowd away from the smouldering corpse, and sudden panic began to race through the square. Where people had pushed, they began to land blows; where they had been jesting, they began to curse and shout abuse. The sound began to turn ugly and screams rose from the center of the growing stampede, rising with the dust above the accelerating smack of boot soles on the flagstones. We were buffeted from all sides, tossed like crab-boats caught in a winter squall; I struggled to keep my footing.

  “We have to stay together.”

  I grabbed Kerrit’s tunic and reached for Livak, who was in turn linking her arm with Halice, who was using her crutch on nearby shins to clear a path as Shiv dragged Viltred over to us. Viltred was struggling, fruitlessly trying to resist the force of the crowd.

  “Let yourself be carried along, we have to go with the flow,” I yelled at him.

  The last thing I wanted was to be noticeable in this mob; there was going to be no question but magic had started the panic and I didn’t want to be caught on the streets with three wizards when the local Watch or whoever came looking for a culprit. A riot like this was going to leave bodies in its wake and the Relshazri would want someone to blame. When a city elects its officials, keeping the mob happy tends to be more important than justice and I wasn’t about to have my head clamped in a pillory just for having a Formalin accent.

  Since we had been heading for a side street anyway, the tide of fleeing Relshazri soon washed us into a dank alley between an inn and a gaming-house. I looked around to make sure we were all all right, but I wasn’t too reassured; Viltred was still recovering from the assault he’d suffered and Livak was supporting Halice, who’d lost her crutch in the crush by now.

  “Wait here.”

  I moved cautiously back down the muddy street, taking full advantage of any cover offered by doorways and a few abandoned vehicles and hand-carts. The square was largely clear by now, save for two knots of weeping women clustered around prone bodies and a few dazed individuals staggering to their feet. Black-headed gulls were wheeling overhead and a few of the bolder birds were already pecking at fallen fruit, an abandoned loaf of bread, a peddler’s tray of sweetmeats scattered in the dust; others looked speculatively at a motionless body in a huddle of soiled rags. Their thin cries were suddenly lost beneath a child screaming hysterically on the temple steps, flailing thin arms as a red-robed priestess tried ineffectually to calm it. I looked for gray cloaks and saw at least one of our pursuers had been trampled, unable to rise as his feet were still caught in Shiv’s spell I realized with some satisfaction.

  “Rope of air is a cantrip any no
vice could dispel.”

  I turned to see that Kerrit had followed me, pen in his mouth as he fumbled with the lid of his ink-horn.

  “It should have presented no problem to someone able to see through a complex illusion or to send a direct attack over such a range,” he mumbled, rifling through his notes for a clean page.

  “Come on.” I grabbed him with rising irritation, ignoring his protests as ink spilled down the front of his breeches as I dragged him back to the others. Was I ever going to meet a wizard with the sense to run a whelk stall?

  “Shiv, do everything you can to hide us. We need to get back to Mellitha’s at once!”

  Shiv nodded, and the air around us began to shimmer again as the air wove itself to conceal us.

  “I’ve something here which is supposed to hide a trail,” Kerrit piped up.

  “Do it then!” I snapped.

  “Well, I can’t; you see, it’s an aetheric incantation. I’m fairly sure it should work though; if my notes are correct, it should prevent them using their magic to find us.”

  Kerrit beamed and held out a page of precisely written syllables. I reached for it but sudden qualms stayed my hand in mid-air.

  “Livak? You did some of these before, didn’t you? You said something about the rhythms?”

  I could see my own reluctance reflected in her grass-green eyes as our gazes locked for a still moment.

  “Give it here.” Livak suddenly snatched the paper and spat out the words, a Forest cadence in her voice.

  “Ar mel sidith, ranel marclenae.”

  As far as I was concerned, we had no way of knowing if it would do any good. I would rely on the methods I’ve used before.

  “Viltred, do you know a way back to Mellitha’s, using the back streets?”

  The old mage dragged a weary hand across his face and nodded. “This way.”

  No one stopped us as we made our way back across the city, more slowly than I would have liked in order to maintain the spells woven around us. The Arril streets were as quiet as anywhere in Relshaz and since the people were going about their business, unconcerned, we all began to breathe a little easier. I was starting to think I recognized some of the houses when Viltred stopped abruptly and I nearly trod on his heels.