A Chorus of Fire

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A Chorus of Fire Page 26

by Brian D. Anderson


  “I can’t believe she did that,” Mariyah fumed.

  “You shouldn’t dwell on it,” Landon said, through a mouthful of apple. He had changed out of his common attire into a comfortable cotton shirt and loose trousers. His sword was hanging on a pair of hooks just above his head.

  “Don’t tell me what I should dwell on,” she snapped back, instantly regretting her sharp tone. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you like that.”

  “No. You’re right. You feel how you feel. It’s not for me to say if you should or shouldn’t.”

  “She ruined her life for no reason! I knew she was a bit wild. But now she’ll be wanted. And when they catch her, she’ll be facing more than a few days in a cell.” She looked up at Landon, who was listening attentively. “You can stop me whenever you want.”

  Landon chuckled. “A servant never interrupts his lady.”

  This drew a lopsided smile Mariyah could not force down. “So you’re my servant now?”

  “Until we arrive, yes.” He lifted his head toward the sword. “My blade is at your command.”

  “That’s where your blade will stay,” she said.

  “Unless needed, of course.”

  “Until I say otherwise.”

  Landon appeared a touch offended. “I am not useless in a fight, Mariyah. I have trained with some of the finest sword masters in the Trudonian city-states.”

  “I’m sure you’re fearsome,” she teased.

  “How do you do that?”

  Mariyah creased her brow. “Do what?”

  “I’ve been in negotiations with kings and queens. I’ve stared down some of the wealthiest people in Lamoria. But with you … one look transforms me into an awkward boy.”

  “It’s a talent.”

  Mariyah had always possessed a quick wit, a fact her mother had enjoyed and her father found annoying. But under Loria’s tutelage, she’d learned to use words like a weapon if the need arose. Not that she would do this with Landon. But she did find it amusing that she could keep him off balance.

  “Do you remember when you told me about the man you love?” Landon asked. “You said he was lost to you, yes?”

  Mariyah felt a chill, and a knot formed in her stomach. She had barely spoken to anyone about Lem. Not even Loria dared to bring up the subject, knowing its sensitive nature. “Yes.”

  “Now that you’re free, have you not thought to find him?”

  “I…” Her mind scattered and she was unable to come up with an answer to the question. At least not one that fit the situation.

  “Forgive me if the subject is too painful,” he said. “But I have thought about it often.”

  “Why would you mention Lem?”

  “Lem, is it?” He tossed the apple core through the open window, wiping his hands on a napkin from his pocket. “Interesting name.”

  Despite his apology, he pressed on. He wanted to know about Lem. But why? There was one possibility … one she hoped was not the case. “Lem is living his own life. For now, that’s how it must be.”

  Landon propped one foot on the seat cradling his chin in the crook of his thumb and forefinger. “But one day, yes? You will find him?”

  “Perhaps.” She was feeling uneasy beneath his gaze. “I don’t know.”

  “But you do still love him?”

  “Why do you care?” she replied, her tone becoming bitter.

  Landon refused to relent. “Because I care about you. I see how lonely you are. How isolated your life is.” He placed his foot back on the floor and leaned in. “My friendship is genuine, Mariyah. Your pain is my own.”

  His eyes captured hers, filling her with shame for her anger. “I know it is. You’re right. I am lonely most of the time.”

  “Then why stay? You’re free. Leave. Find this Lem of yours. Be happy.”

  A tear tried to fall, but she caught it just in time. “I can’t. Not yet.”

  “I wish you would confide in me, Mariyah.” He reached out and dried a second tear with the tip of his finger. “I know you’re strong. I would have to be the most dull-witted man in Ubania not to see that. But you cannot live in pain forever.”

  She forced a fragile smile. “I’m not alone. I have Loria … and you.” She felt vulnerable. But not in a way that elicited the panic and fury that was typically their companion. It was much the same as when she shared her feelings with Lem. The way he was looking at her with those tender eyes and kind smile returned her to a time when the world was small and the dangers few.

  “That you do. But is it enough?”

  “Yes,” she answered. A few seconds ago, that would have been a lie. Not anymore. “Thank you. I forget sometimes to look to those close to me for support.”

  “Even a hero needs loyal friends.” He looked from side to side as if someone might hear him. “But don’t tell Loria I said that. She’ll think I’m up to no good. Or that I’m trying to seduce you.”

  Mariyah was on the verge of telling him about Belkar; asking him directly if he was a part of it. But she held her tongue. If the answer was something other than what she wanted to hear … the idea was enough to make her nauseous.

  “You … seduce me?” She affected a puckish grin. “The glass-headed women who fawn over your every move might swoon at your passing. I, on the other hand, would make you earn my favor.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “And how might I do that?”

  “You’d need to first learn to play the balisari.”

  “Then I’m well on my way.”

  “You play?”

  Landon held aloft a finger, mouth open and looking for a moment as if he would say yes, then shook his head. “No. But I do own one.”

  “Not nearly good enough.”

  With an exaggerated wave of the arm, he threw himself back in his seat. “That’s what I feared. No hope for poor Landon Valmore.”

  They both enjoyed a hearty round of laughter. How was this man able to do it? Thinking about Milani’s stupidity had made her furious. And now, it was as if it had happened a month ago. And Lem—rather than make her miss him more, Landon’s words had miraculously reinforced her belief that they would be together again; that there would one day be an end to the madness.

  Landon was reaching beneath his seat for a bottle of wine he had put there upon departure when they heard a cry of pain from Gimmel in the driver’s seat. An instant later, the carriage swerved from the road, bouncing Mariyah and Landon about violently and forcing them to grab for the open window.

  “What the hell is going on?” Landon yelled.

  Several gruff voices shouted for the driver to stay put. Mariyah could see four men emerging from the brush, short blades in hand. They wore common attire, rather than soldiers’ armor, and their dirty faces and uncouth language suggested they were bandits.

  Landon reached for his sword once the carriage halted, but Mariyah caught his arm and pulled him back.

  “No. There’s too many.” Aside from the four she’d seen, there were several more that she could hear beyond her view.

  The door flew open, and a thin man in a stained vest, no shirt, and knee-length trousers pointed a rusted dagger at Landon.

  “Out, you lot.”

  Landon shifted his body to be between the bandit and Mariyah. “Take what you want and leave us alone.”

  The bandit’s eyes caught sight of the untouched sword. “Not too brave, are you, lad? Well, that’s good. Heroes die.”

  The other door opened, and a thick arm reached in and grabbed Mariyah by the back of her shirt, pulling her out before Landon could turn around. She hit the ground flat on her back, the impact forcing the air from her lungs.

  Though unable to breathe, she could see that there were eight in total, all carrying swords, and one with a bow across his back. A giant of a man loomed over her, grinning toothlessly at her helplessness.

  “A pretty one,” he roared, earning shouts and hoots of approval from the rest. He knelt down, his rancid body odor and even
worse breath enough to make Mariyah nauseous. “Bet someone will pay a right good bit for you to come home with that pretty skin intact.”

  She could hear Landon shouting curses as more men rushed the carriage to extract him.

  “Don’t hurt him too bad,” a voice called. “He might be rich too.”

  Gimmel was slumped in his seat, hand clutching at an arrow protruding from his left shoulder. Landon was calling her name repeatedly, but she was unable to respond, still gasping from the fall.

  Before she could recover, the brute gripped her shirt collar and dragged her to the front of the carriage. Landon was on his knees, bleeding from his mouth and nose, with four men holding their swords to his neck and torso.

  “Mariyah,” he cried, and tried to rise. But a sharp blow to the back of the neck sent him down hard.

  “That’s enough out of you,” a bandit warned. “Do that again and it’ll earn you a nice fat scar on that handsome face of yours.”

  Mariyah was now able to breathe normally. “You should let us go.”

  A pair of meaty hands lifted her to her knees. “Is that right?”

  “That’s right.”

  This was met by raucous laughter.

  “And what will happen if we don’t?”

  “I’ll kill each and every one of you.”

  “Mariyah, no,” Landon said. He looked pleadingly to the nearest bandit. “Don’t hurt her. I’ll see that you have all the gold you want.”

  “That you will, if you want her ladyship to keep breathing.”

  Mariyah locked eyes with the big bandit. “This is the last time I’m going to tell you. Let us go … now.”

  “I think you’re in need of a lesson,” he said, hand raised to deliver a blow to her face.

  Mariyah did not flinch. There was a slight wave of her hand and a muttered word, and a thin strip of blue light appeared around the bandit’s neck. His eyes shot wide as the strip went tight around his throat, cutting off his breath before he could strike. The man ripped and tore at the spell, but it would not relent. Mariyah stood slowly just as the brute collapsed, flailing in terror, gagging and pounding his fists on the ground.

  The other bandits were too stunned to react quickly.

  Mariyah looked up at Gimmel. He was still alive, but the wound was severe.

  “I wonder how many people you’ve killed?” she said. “How many helpless people you’ve sent to their deaths? How many were scarred for life by your cruelty?”

  Her fingers spread and her arms thrust forward. Streaks of red lightning sprang forth, striking three of the bandits just as they were recovering their wits. Their bodies seized and their clothes burst into flames. Screams of panic and pain filled her ears, stoking her rage even further. Mariyah bared her teeth, ready to dole out more. The other bandits had no heart for this kind of fight, and bolted all at once toward the forest, dropping their weapons along the way.

  “You will not escape.” Her voice boomed as if multiplied a thousand times over, the magic fulminating through her blood, begging to serve as the conduit of her vengeance.

  Three more times the spell felled her foes, their screams like music to orchestrate the passion of the moment. Only two remained. They would not get away. They would pay for every woman they’d hurt. Every child they’d terrorized. Every nightmare they’d caused.

  “Mariyah.”

  A pair of gentle hands touched her shoulders.

  “Mariyah.”

  She readied a spell that would lift the bandits in a mighty wind and hurl their bodies beyond the treetops, leaving them like shattered glass on the forest floor.

  “Please. Hear me.”

  Mariyah blinked several times. “Landon?”

  “That’s enough.”

  In that moment, the stench of charred flesh reached her nostrils. The remains of the bandits were still burning, though they could not be identified as human—lumps of black meat. The big man was lying on his back still holding his throat, tongue bulging and wearing the horrified expression of his final gruesome moment of life.

  Mariyah looked up. The last of the bandits were nearly out of reach. She lowered her head and tried to subdue her fury. But she was only partly successful. It lingered, boiling beneath the surface, poised to reemerge.

  It was a moan from Gimmel that snatched her back into the moment. She climbed to the driver’s seat and examined the wound.

  “Can you talk?” she asked.

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Landon had hopped up on the opposite side. “I have experience treating injuries,” he told her. “But he needs proper care.”

  Mariyah ripped one of Landon’s shirts into bandages while he carefully removed the arrow, which fortunately had pierced straight through his shoulder, allowing him to break off the shaft and pull out the remainder. By the time the bleeding was stopped, Gimmel was unconscious.

  “There’s a village a few miles away,” Landon said. “If we can make it in time, he might live.”

  Together, they lifted him down and into the back of the carriage. Mariyah remained with Gimmel, having no experience driving a carriage, and kept pressure on the wound. As they pulled away, she saw the smoldering stumps of the bandits. Someone was bound to run across the scene—and they would immediately know that it was the work of a Thaumas. It was dangerous to use magic aggressively, and while not expressly forbidden, it was strongly discouraged. It caused fear to rise in the common people, and the nobility could view it as a threat.

  There was no other choice. They might have killed us.

  But telling herself this would not conceal the truth. She could have easily incapacitated the bandits without killing them. She’d wanted them dead. More than that, she’d wanted them to suffer; to die screaming and terrified. She’d wondered how it would have felt had she been able to kill Aylana. Now she knew. Her mind told her that she should feel guilt. But that was not the case. It felt … good. As if she had slain a portion of her nightmares.

  By the time they reached the town, Gimmel was barely clinging to life. They quickly found the only inn and called for the local healer.

  Mariyah noticed Landon stealing glances, looking away before their eyes could meet. Was he afraid? He didn’t appear to be. If anything, he looked worried.

  “He’ll live,” the healer said, a man of about forty with narrow eyes, a bald head, and a grim disposition. “But he needs to stay put for at least a week.”

  Mariyah paid the man five gold, much more than his care would have cost. “I’ll send someone to collect him. Until then, see that he has anything he requires.”

  The man stared down at the coins in shock. “For this, I’ll stay with him day and night. Rest assured, your friend will be as good as new.”

  Back outside by the carriage, Landon was speaking to a small group of men in worn leather armor and carrying a variety of weapons. Seeing Mariyah, he smiled over to her and tossed a small pouch to one of the men, who without a word hurried away with his comrades at a quick jog.

  “What was that about?” Mariyah asked.

  “Just a bit of cleaning up,” he replied. “No need to draw attention when it can be avoided.”

  “Then we should get moving.”

  Landon frowned. “Don’t you think we should stop for the day? You’ve been through quite an ordeal.”

  “I need to get back,” she said. “Gimmel is being cared for. And if you have dealt with the … other situation, I’d like to move on.”

  Landon regarded her for a moment before nodding his capitulation. After retrieving a few pieces of fruit from the back along with a bottle of water, he climbed into the driver’s seat. Mariyah moved in beside him.

  “I should learn to do this,” she stated flatly.

  Landon offered no objection, and showed her the braking lever and how to hold the reins. “Turning is the tricky part. But after you’ve done it once, it’s easy.”

  Mariyah watched closely as he snapped the reins and directed the team of horses into
the avenue. After exiting the town, she insisted on taking the reins herself.

  “Don’t you think we should discuss what happened?” Landon remarked.

  “I’m sorry if I frightened you,” she said, her eyes focused on the road.

  “So the rumors about Lady Camdon are true?”

  She gave Landon a stern look. “You can never speak of it.”

  “I would never tell a soul. You have my word.”

  This gave Landon leverage. Loria would be furious that he knew something so damning about her. “I had no choice.” The lie repeated aloud made it feel all the more wretched.

  “I understand. And I thank you. Had you not acted, they might have done terrible things to us.”

  She could tell that Landon was concerned. But for himself, or for her? “I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I would never hurt you.”

  “I’m not afraid of you, Mariyah. I’m afraid for you.”

  “I’m fine.”

  He touched her hand and shifted in the seat so to meet her eyes. “Are you? I’m not so sure.”

  “I did what I had to do,” she insisted.

  Landon said nothing for nearly a minute, as if unsure what words would fit. He took the reins and guided the carriage to the roadside and pulled it up to a halt, then took her hands firmly in his.

  “Why did you kill them?” he asked, though not in an accusing way. He seemed genuinely curious.

  “I already told you, they—”

  “The bandits who ran away.”

  She gripped his hands so tightly that Landon winced before she realized what she was doing. “They should be free to kill someone else?”

  Landon nodded. “A valid point. If that was your reason. But it wasn’t. Was it?”

  Mariyah could not hold his gaze. “They deserved it. That’s all I know.”

  “I’m not saying what you did was wrong. Those men were likely murderers, each one. But they were certainly wanted by the magistrate as well. The axeman’s blade awaited them. Had you captured them, they would have ended up dead anyway.”

 

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