A Blackbird In Silver (Book 1)

by Freda Warrington

  Medrian’s expression was one of distaste. ‘She is a very dangerous woman – fanatical but sane.’

  ‘A chilling combination,’ he agreed. ‘How has she treated you?’ Medrian did not answer at once, so he went on, ‘I have been drugged, lied to, threatened and driven half-mad – and that was merely a preliminary. What of you?’

  ‘She’s been most kind,’ said Medrian. ‘At least, until yesterday, when I refused to co-operate with her. Now she wants to kill me.’

  ‘So,’ Ashurek concluded with a sour grin, ‘we’ve both observed that she is our enemy, and a powerful servant of the Serpent. But neither of us has yet surrendered.’

  ‘It’s understandable that her patience is running out.’ Medrian’s voice took on a brittle edge. ‘We’re too valuable to her to be lost. Now that a gentle approach has failed, she’ll go to any lengths to enslave us.’

  ‘Gentle?’ Ashurek exclaimed. ‘Subtle, perhaps… I wonder if our meeting after a week of deliberate separation is part of her plan?’

  ‘More than likely.’ Medrian stood up. Her long white dress looked incongruous, made him think of Silvren. ‘What shall we do?’

  ‘What would she expect us to do?’ Ashurek wondered. ‘Find Estarinel and try to escape. Predictable, but we seem to have no other choice.’

  ‘You’re right…’ she hesitated as they shared the same thought. ‘Perhaps that is the trap – perhaps Estarinel has been deceived or forced onto her side.’

  ‘Aye, I fear for him… Whatever happens there must be a confrontation with her and we must be ready to escape. Get some travelling gear on and try to find some horses. I’ll seek Estarinel.’

  In his room Ashurek swiftly pulled on a high-collared quilted jacket of purple and strapped on his sword. As he turned for the door he noticed something strange about a small looking glass on the wall. It revealed not his own reflection but an infinite silver-green corridor, as if it was facing another mirror. There was a weird sensation in his skull, as if someone was calling his name just out of earshot. Was this the beginning of Arlenmia’s last plan?

  He hurried from the room and, to his amazement, found his way with unerring instinct directly to one of the tower rooms. He opened the door and saw Estarinel.

  The Forluinishman was slumped across a low mirror-topped table with alabaster chess pieces scattered about him. He did not seem to be breathing. Ashurek shook him, calling his name. After a minute, to his relief, the Forluinishman groaned and slowly came awake. He looked dazedly up at the grim, dark face of the Gorethrian.

  ‘By the heavens,’ said Ashurek. ‘I thought you were dead.’

  ‘I think I would have been, if you hadn’t found me.’ He rubbed his forehead and stood up so unsteadily that Ashurek quickly guided him to the bed and let him sit down. ‘Where’s Skord? What happened?’ Estarinel muttered. Then awareness surfaced and his eyes brightened with excitement. ‘Ashurek – it worked!’

  ‘What worked?’

  ‘Tell me how you managed to find me.’

  Ashurek related his meeting with Medrian and the strange illusion in the looking glass. Estarinel nodded, a grin spreading across his pale and exhausted face. ‘Yes, so it did work! Arlenmia was trying to entrance me by making scenes appear in the mirror, but I found I could control the images too. I concentrated on shattering her reflections and contacting you.’

  Ashurek stared at him, incredulous. ‘You’re saying that you – you were responsible for–’

  ‘Yes!’ Estarinel laughed. ‘You don’t believe me?’

  ‘It is somewhat hard to credit. We thought it was another of Arlenmia’s traps.’

  ‘Not this time, I assure you.’

  ‘Can you prove it?’ asked the ever-skeptical Gorethrian.

  ‘Ah – I suppose I can’t. Anyway, there isn’t time; Arlenmia may know what has happened already,’ he said, his smile fading. ‘You must take my word that I am not working for her.’

  Ashurek thought that Estarinel probably could not lie even if he wanted to.

  ‘Very well; if what you say is true, it changes everything. Speed is of the essence, if we are to escape. But there’s more to it than just walking out of the city. Have you discovered anything that may help us?’

  ‘I don’t know. Arlenmia actually took me out of the city yesterday, but I doubt that I could find the way again.’

  ‘She works with demons,’ Ashurek said with a sigh, ‘and it will go badly for us if she decides to summon them.’

  ‘There is this.’ Estarinel leaned forward and picked up Arlenmia’s glass from the floor. ‘Do you see the white powder crusted on the inside of this glass? It’s mircam.’

  ‘I’m no expert on herbs, but that’s some kind of drug, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes, a very powerful one. And Arlenmia has taken it continually since we’ve been here. It’s highly addictive, and the effects are harsh. That’s why we don’t use it in Forluin.’

  ‘Why would she wish to take such a drug?’

  ‘To increase her energy and strength, to survive on very little sleep. Silvren said she thought her vitality was drawn–’

  ‘What did you say?’ Ashurek interrupted sharply. ‘What do you know of Silvren?’

  Unnerved by the hellish light that had come into Ashurek’s eyes, Estarinel began to explain his unexpected meeting with Silvren in astral form. Ashurek seemed to have forgotten how little time they had and Estarinel thought the questioning would never stop. Eventually Ashurek strode to the window and stared broodingly out at the city, while the Forluinishman went on to describe the scenes he had observed through the mirror.

  ‘So Arlenmia was telling the truth, damn her,’ Ashurek said. ‘I didn't believe she’d ever known Silvren – how could they have been friends? How?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Estarinel replied, made uncomfortable by Ashurek’s obvious distress. ‘Didn’t Silvren ever mention Arlenmia to you?’

  ‘Never. But that was like her; she’d have been so devastated by Arlenmia’s betrayal that she would have kept the whole thing to herself. She never would tell me who sent the demon after her, and I did not press the matter. But now I know.’ Ashurek turned, his face menacing with the cold logic that had made his ancestors rulers of half the world. ‘This drug, mircam. What could happen if she were suddenly to stop taking it?’

  ‘That would have a terrible effect – she’d be very ill, and possibly die.’

  ‘Good. Then we are going to find a way to deprive her of it.’

  ‘That’s if she’s human.’

  ‘You look strangely regretful at the prospect of doing her any harm; what’s the matter?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Estarinel sighed. ‘It’s just that she so nearly fooled me.’

  Ashurek went on glaring narrowly at him. ‘Beguiling, isn’t she? It’s said the Forluinish are altogether over-generous with their affections, in every sense.’

  ‘Nothing happened!’ Estarinel said heatedly. ‘It’s just hard to forget some of the things she said.’

  ‘Then remember that she threatened Forluin, caused Silvren to be imprisoned, and seems to have no qualms about murdering Medrian,’ Ashurek said in a sharp tone. ‘She might even be the Serpent’s human host – where safer than its own High Priestess?’

  ‘Yes – yes, I know. So what are you planning to do?’

  ‘We need the help of someone who was very close to her. Estarinel, can you look in the mirror again and see where Skord is?’

  ‘No, Ashurek, I can’t look again. I’m exhausted. It almost killed me – nearly destroyed my mind, at least. Now I know why Arlenmia needs the mircam.’ Ashurek glowered at him, but he went on, ‘However, I do know that Skord is in this house somewhere. He’s broken. He wouldn’t have gone far.’

  ‘Then let us find him. There’s Medrian in the courtyard. Are you sufficiently recovered? Come on, then.’

  Estarinel stood up, trying to ignore the dark spots swimming before his eyes. He donned his cloak and sword and made sure he had the wh
ite lodestone, in case it was of use again. As they left the room, Ashurek clapped him on the shoulder. ‘If we escape this place,’ he said, ‘it will be thanks to you. I swear I’ll never underestimate you again.’

  They met Medrian coming in from the courtyard, now dressed in breeches, boots and a blue tabard. Estarinel had to restrain himself from hugging her, so glad was he to see her.

  ‘I can’t find the horses,’ she said. ‘I found my way to the city’s edge, but there’s a kind of thin glass barrier around it.’

  ‘I rode out of the city yesterday and there was no such wall then,’ Estarinel said.

  ‘There is now! I shattered a stone trying to break through it.’ Medrian looked pale and apprehensive. ‘She must be able to see us together by now.’

  ‘Not necessarily. It was Estarinel who broke her enchantment,’ Ashurek said with a grin, and explained briefly what had happened.

  ‘She is bound to know, and she’ll be furious,’ Medrian persisted. ‘You haven’t seen the half of her power yet.’

  ‘It’s unlike you to panic, Medrian,’ said Ashurek.

  ‘You also might feel a sense of urgency if you knew she’d decided to kill you, and was quite capable of doing so.’ Medrian broke off and glanced over her shoulder down the corridor of gold. Deserted.

  Estarinel looked at her, mystified. After witnessing her strange conversation with Arlenmia, Medrian was more of an enigma than ever. He began to explain about the mircam, hoping to reassure her, while Ashurek led them along the corridor in search of Skord.

  ‘So if we can find the herb and keep it from her, she’ll collapse without it.’

  ‘Is that so?’ The touch of hope in Medrian’s voice faded quickly. ‘Forgive me for doubting, but it sounds impossible. We couldn’t even find each other; I can’t find the horses; won’t she keep her drugs even better hidden?’

  They walked on in silence past rows of the paintings and tapestries that Arlenmia loved so much. They turned a corner and something slipped out of sight just ahead of them. At once Ashurek lengthened his stride until he drew level with an alcove.

  A figure tried to dart past him, but was cornered by the tall Gorethrian.

  ‘What’s this, creeping along the walls like a brown mouse?’

  Skord looked as if he had not eaten or slept for days. At the sight of Ashurek there was stark terror in his eyes, which showed little more intelligence than a trapped animal. He crumpled forwards onto the floor, hiding his face.

  ‘You have fallen out of favour, haven’t you?’

  ‘Ashurek, don’t!’ Estarinel exclaimed.

  ‘All right, boy,’ the Gorethrian said, almost kindly. ‘Get up. We won’t harm you.’

  Skord, after a pause, slowly began to pull himself to his feet until he was leaning against the wall, shoulders stooped and head hanging.

  ‘You’re in a sorry state.’ The boy made no cutting replies. He had been cast out by Arlenmia and left to the mercy of a demon – a demon that despised him as useless. Still he stayed in the house like a whipped dog trying to regain favour with its mistress. He had nowhere to go, was terrified to leave, and Arlenrnia was still the only one who had the power to redeem him.

  Estarinel felt sick with himself when he saw Skord, for however much he disapproved of the boy’s past behaviour, he would never have attempted the hypnotism had he known it would bring him to this wretched state.

  ‘You tricked us into this place,’ Ashurek was saying. ‘Now you can help us escape.’ Skord shook his head miserably and muttered something. ‘Speak up!’

  ‘She’s put – put the barrier round the city. She’ll summon them – from the mirrors,’ he mumbled brokenly.

  ‘Listen to me,’ said Estarinel. ‘You can tell us two things. Do you know where Arlenmia keeps her supply of mircam?’ Skord looked confused. ‘The drugs she takes – her powders and herbs?’

  ‘Oh – yes.’

  ‘And do you know where our horses are?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Will you take us there? The herbs first.’

  Skord lowered his head apathetically. He seemed in a daze. ‘I can’t.’

  ‘You’re not afraid of turning traitor to Arlenmia? She’s released you from service, after all,’ said Ashurek.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Yes; you know it. Now, come on,’ Ashurek urged, beginning to guide the boy gently along the corridor. For a moment Skord hesitated, the merest hint of suspicion and hatred entering his face. Then it was gone, and he was shuffling ahead of them with his head bowed.

  #

  Gulla paused, holding a glass of wine mixed with mircam.

  ‘My Lady, do you think you should take another dose so soon?’

  ‘I must,’ Arlenmia answered, sitting now before a different mirror. ‘I don’t feel well, and I must have the energy to summon all my forces. It is time to bind our three guests.’

  As she spoke, the looking glass revealed what the three were doing at that moment.

  ‘By the Serpent’s eyes–’ she hissed. ‘Damn them!’ She leapt up, knocking the wineglass out of the maid’s hand, and flew from the room.

  #

  Skord led them to a long, light gallery with doors at each end and a large full-length gold-framed mirror in the centre of one long wall. Here he stopped, sketching signs and strokes across the mirror with one finger, ‘To bring it to this plane,’ he murmured. Absorbed in his task, he took on some of the bearing of the arrogant young messenger again. Presently he pushed the edge of the mirror-frame and it slid sideways, revealing a small room stocked with all kinds of herbs. This was where she concocted her various potions.

  The three entered. Light poured down from a round aperture above. There was Brownblade growing in troughs of water, resembling mint but with long, bronze-coloured leaves; tied in dry bunches; beaten to a whitish powder. Estarinel pulled off his cloak and they swiftly bundled up all the Brownblade and phials of mircam they could find.

  As they left the room and slid the mirror back across, Ashurek drew his sword on impulse and smashed the glass with the hilt. As the ringing shatter died away, they turned to see Medrian staring with horror at one of the doors. She seized Skord’s arm.

  ‘Take me to the horses,’ she said and dragged him at a run to the other door, disappearing just as Arlenmia entered.

  She stared at the Forluinishman and the Gorethrian. Her presence was cold, overpowering.

  ‘Give that to me,’ she commanded, pointing to Estarinel’s bundled cloak. He took a step back and then, to his amazement, she attacked him. With great strength she pulled him violently to the floor, her face livid. Even as he fell, he threw the bundle to Ashurek, who caught it and made for the door.

  Arlenmia was tremendously strong. Her skin was marble-cold and her nails sank into his arm, drawing blood. Again he thought of the cold green coils of a snake.

  Seeing Ashurek escaping with her precious herb, she struggled to rise, but Estarinel held her down. He’d noticed a great brass key in the door.

  ‘Lock us in!’ he shouted after Ashurek.

  Arlenmia fought free. By the time she ran to the door, however, Ashurek had indeed locked it. She raced the length of the gallery to the other door to find that it was also now locked.

  ‘You have broken the mirror!’ she hissed at Estarinel. ‘I am no sorceress, I can only work through an unbroken mirror! You have trapped me. I congratulate you, it was beautifully done.’ Her face was so full of fury that she seemed likely to tear him apart barehanded. With a visible effort she regained her composure and bit back any more heated words. She paced the gallery, her whole frame so tense that she looked like a tomb effigy brought to life. Her shimmering blue-green dress was the exact colour of her hair.

  ‘I wish… I wish,’ she said, pushing at the shards of glass with a silk-slippered foot, ‘that I had guessed you have the ability to control the mirror. I should have known, from the ease with which you mesmerised Skord. We have both been foolish in our way, it would seem.�
� He stood watching her as she walked slowly towards him. Her large, liquid eyes were shining with suppressed frustration. ‘Estarinel, did you listen to nothing I told you? You began to listen, oh you began… Now you look at me as if I were not even human. But I am. I don’t give my affection easily, it’s true, but I loved Silvren. I could have loved you. You could have had Forluin whole and perfect forever, lovelier than you can imagine. But in resisting me you have condemned your land.’ She came close to him and put her hands on his shoulders. Her touch made him shudder. ‘Yes, I could have loved you. You could have used your gifts to help me. But I won’t let anything stand between myself and my dream – not anything!’

  ‘That’s obvious. I’ve seen how you treat people you claim to love. Why can’t you see the Serpent for the evil it is?’ Estarinel exclaimed, raising his hands to hold her wrists. Her look of exasperation made her appear at once more human and more beautiful.

  ‘Did I not explain to you that what seems “evil” on a petty human scale is but a dispassionate act of cleansing on a cosmic one?’

  ‘Yes, you did. And to me that dispassion of great forces is an even greater evil. Do you think the Serpent even cares that you exist? Your vision is false! What happened to Forluin is real – and it is evil.’

  She stepped backwards as if he had struck her, her hands falling from his shoulders. A look of wretchedness came to her eyes, and he thought for a moment that what he said had reached her.

  ‘I’ve given you every chance. But I’ve been too honest with you. I should have told you what you wanted to hear, instead of the truth,’ she stated.

  He stared at her, incredulous at these words. There was no convincing her that she was wrong. She seemed to realise at the same moment as he did that it was futile to continue the argument. All her passion drained away and she turned and wandered listlessly the length of the gallery.

  When she turned towards him again her face was very pale and her graceful hands were shaking slightly. He saw that she was beginning to feel the lack of mircam already.

  ‘So now you are going to stand there and watch me die?’ The touch of humour in Arlenmia’s voice more chilling than outright malice. ‘Can you do it? You have the instincts of a healer. I don’t believe you can even bear to watch me become ill.’