The Magic Mines of Asharim

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The Magic Mines of Asharim Page 43

by Pauline M. Ross


  And all the while, in the background the prince was engaged in who knows what activities with the young man. I heard slaps and grunts, gasps and then the unmistakeable sounds of muffled sobs. My heart went out to the poor boy, suffering at the hands of such a cruel man. He was not fit to be a leader of men, even such warlike ones as the Hrandish. He was not fit to live.

  The prince finished first, and was soon snoring softly, while his abused lamb still emitted an occasional sob. Eventually, at well past a thousand, although my counting had become very erratic by then, my two were done as well.

  “May I be released now?” I asked, my voice no more than a thread.

  They just laughed. “Not until the Most Mighty says so.”

  Then they took themselves to their pallets, one to sleep and the other, so help me, to keep watch.

  I was trapped like a fly in tar, and I had no idea what to do about it.

  44: The Water Tunnel

  That night was endless. My flickers had healed my injuries, but I was still tightly bound and bent over, my stomach compressed. Although I was not in pain, the position was desperately uncomfortable, and my hands and feet had lost all feeling. My head was heavy, and I could barely breathe. Naked, I shivered in the cold night air.

  I needed to free myself, and soon. One of my flickers could probably release my shackles, but the krin haar, still prowling watchfully about the room, made it impossible to try. My poor flickers crooned encouragingly to me, and every once in a while my healing flicker gave me a tiny burst of tingling magic, to keep my spirits up.

  The only consolation, such as it was, was that the drug soon wore off and I could see into the minds of the three men. Two were definitely asleep, and the third was bored and fighting his tiredness. That was promising. If he would only lie down and sleep… As for the young man my husband had enjoyed, his mind was all pain and despair.

  At last the krin haar settled down on the floor, right opposite me. A flask of wine kept him occupied. He was already three parts drunk. It was too good an opportunity to waste. The flickers’ hiding place was only a few paces away. I summoned another flicker, one with the power to make my captor fall asleep. It almost turned a somersault in its excitement, and came bouncing out of its pocket. It was one of my most flamboyant creatures, rolling along the floor in a ball instead of slithering, slug-like, as most of them did. And it flashed its lights with alarming intensity. I couldn’t believe that it would reach the warrior unnoticed.

  It almost did. Just at the last moment, the warrior’s face creased in puzzlement, but before he could speak, the flicker hopped straight onto his leg. The krin haar had one instant of open-mouthed astonishment before he keeled over and crashed onto the floor.

  The flicker cavorted its way back to its home, as all the others squeaked in delight. My mind was full of their little bursts of happiness, and despite my predicament, I had to smile at them.

  I waited, tensed, for either of the others to wake. On the bed, the prince’s snoring stopped for a moment, and I held my breath. Then with a grunt, he settled back to sleep. The other krin haar never even stirred.

  Finally, my chance to do what I’d come for. I summoned a flicker with the power to move metal. She was trained to open locks, but the clasp on the shackles was not dissimilar. It took her a long time, but at last one hand was released. The other restraints were easier once she’d learned the technique. Within moments I was free.

  Even so, at first I couldn’t move at all. My limbs were so numb and heavy, I couldn’t bend my fingers. Little by little, I levered myself upwards, and finally slid off the punishment chair to the floor. My flicker gave me little bursts of healing to help me along. As soon as I could stand, I felt my way to my clothes and dressed as best I could with stiff, swollen fingers.

  Then I turned to the bed.

  The young man was still there, naked, his hands bound to one rope supporting the bed. He was distressingly young, no more than twelve or thirteen. Only a boy, with a shock of hair the colour of wheat, his face streaked with tears. He gazed at me with reddened, puffy eyes. Sweet goddess, he was afraid of me! What terror had he suffered that he feared even me?

  I put a finger to my lips, and he nodded, understanding me. Quietly, carefully, I picked at his bonds until I unravelled the knots, trying hard not to joggle the bed. He rubbed his wrists, giving me a half-smile of thanks. His clothes were scattered about. I gathered them, and waited, back turned, as he scrambled into them.

  Even so, I’d seen the streaks of blood on his legs. Poor, poor child. It was unspeakable.

  When he was dressed, I put a finger to my lips again, then reached for his hand. His face registered alarm, but before he could pull away, I laid my healing flicker on his palm. His eyes widened. I waited, terrified, in case he took fright and bolted. Instead, he smiled, and it was like the sun coming out. In his mind, a burst of delighted relief.

  Now for the Most Mighty.

  I moved to the bed, tucked away the healing and pain flickers, and took out my sleep flicker. Even though my husband seemed deeply asleep, I couldn’t risk him waking now. I couldn’t bear to touch his bare flesh, mottled with many scars, so I threw the flicker. With a jolt the prince fell into a deeper, more long-lasting sleep.

  The next flicker was special. She had been trained just for this moment, and very likely would never be used again. She understood the seriousness of her role, and waited calmly to be thrown. Down she went with a flick of my fingers, her burst of magic activating before she bounced back into my hand. All the flickers sighed. There was no outward change in the prince, but that was just an illusion. The changes would come soon enough.

  The boy touched my arm. “What have you done?” he mouthed.

  I smiled. “Started a war,” I mouthed back.

  He shrugged, not understanding what I meant, but he was grinning, too. Yes, I could see that the idea might please him.

  My work was done. When I had planned this moment, I’d expected to be sharing my husband’s bed until morning. That was impossible now. Setting myself free would give him cause to punish me all over again, and the very thought made me shake from head to toe. Even when he slept soundly, I couldn’t bear to be in the same room as him.

  So I had to leave, and take the boy with me to safety. But how to make our way out of the warrior’s palace? Even if I knew the layout, I could hardly stroll past the guards. No woman walked about without an escort here.

  What we needed was a warrior, and I knew exactly where to find one.

  The other krin haar, who’d been fast asleep since he’d finished amusing himself with me, was our way out. I needed a different flicker again for him, one I hadn’t used since Wetherrin.

  I tossed the flicker at him, and he woke with a jerk.

  “You will do as I command,” I told him.

  “I will do as you command,” he intoned.

  “You will lead us to the foreign quarter.”

  “I will lead you to the foreign quarter.”

  And away he went. That was very easy. It was pleasing to have something work as intended, for a change. I was heart-sick of nasty surprises.

  ~~~~~

  The guards on duty at the foreign quarter gate asked no questions, taking me straight to Zak’s house. There, faces peered curiously at me, emerging from their beds half-dressed, blinking in the suddenly lit lamps. I saw only one face. Zak.

  I threw myself across the room and into his arms, weeping all over him. Bless him, he scooped me into his embrace and led me away to a quiet, dark room. Then he held me tight, rocking me gently, until at length I’d cried myself out.

  “Was it bad?”

  I was half asleep, exhausted. His quiet voice startled me awake. I nodded. It was still too close to talk about.

  “Are you… injured?”

  A shake of the head. “I had my flickers.”

  “Ah. Good.” A long pause. “I was afraid of something like this. We tried to get you out of there… after Renni fell, but h
is warriors were all around. They took you away.” Another, even longer, pause. “You will not go back there?”

  “No!”

  “Thank all the gods for that.” He stroked my hair, and gently kissed the top of my head. “The man is a barbarian, and you have paid too high a price already for this scheme of yours. Time to let it go, I think.”

  I shot upright, glaring at him. “Certainly not! Not, when we are so close! Besides – it may already be too late for that.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Allandra, what have you done? You surely haven’t killed him?”

  “Not yet. He will wake as normal in a few hours. By this evening, he will feel a little unwell. Tomorrow he will be worse. And in a few days…” I smiled.

  Zak thought about it, and then his mind lit up with amusement. “Yes, I like that. But… how? A flicker?” I nodded. “Clever. And no one will suspect you. But today, when he wakes to find you gone—”

  “Exactly. That’s why I must go soon. Zak—”

  He looked at me expectantly.

  “Will you… do you think… would you… come with me? Through the tunnel? Please? Because…” My voice began to wobble, and tears were dangerously close. “Because I don’t think I can do this by myself.”

  He held me even tighter, murmuring into my ear, “Of course, sweet lady. I always meant to. I would never, ever let you go up there alone.”

  I did cry then, just a little, but his embrace was the comfort I so badly needed. After such a nightmarish evening and night, I wanted nothing more than to stay there with him, being held and rocked and soothed, for ever.

  But I couldn’t. I had one more task to do. “Then we have to go. We must get through the tunnel right away. Now, before it is too late. We need a prince! At once!”

  Zak was a planner, not an at-once sort of man, so we went back to the main room, where everyone was eating toasted bread and cheese, and drinking spiced wine. These were Zak’s people, Mesanthian rebels. The familiar accents and the stone-built solidity of the foreign quarter restored my spirits, although I clung to Zak as if to a spar in a flood.

  There we exchanged stories. Zak told me more of how he and his fellows had raced to the meeting pavilion to help me. I hadn’t realised, but it was Zak’s strong arms which had hauled me away from Renni and her lethal flickers. I told a little of the night’s events, mainly what I had done to my husband. The boy, I discovered, was the son of a high-ranking Caxangur commander, captured on his first mission, scouting in Hrandish land not a day’s ride to the west.

  And Xando was there. It was a relief to know that he was safe and not festering in a Hrandish dungeon, but I was still too angry to speak to him. Renni’s betrayal wasn’t his fault, but he’d been there with her, and all the blame for her death was his. He must have felt that too, for he drooped in a corner, head down, not looking me in the eye.

  And standing motionless by the wall, the krin haar who’d brought me to safety.

  “What’s the story with him?” Zak asked. “Bribery? Or a falling out amongst the Hrandish?”

  “I have enthralled him,” I said. “You’d be surprised what a flicker can be trained to do.”

  Zak laughed but the others eyed the warrior suspiciously. Several of them had knives handy.

  One man rested a drawn sword on his knee. “So you have started the war, then, Gracious Lady?”

  The use of the honorific, in High Mesanthian, brought tears to my eyes again. I inclined my head to him, and several of those present nodded, with pleasure in their minds.

  “Wait – what?” Zak turned to me, bemused. “How did you do that? Have you sent word to the army?”

  “She has killed the Most Mighty,” the swordsman answered. “That is enough. As soon as he dies, the fight for the succession will begin. All the princes join in, and try to kill each other. The strongest survivor becomes the next ruler.”

  “Oh, but—” Zak turned to me in astonishment. “I thought you meant there would be a war as a consequence of taking the water. You meant to kill him all along, then?”

  “Yes. It will throw the whole city into turmoil. They plan for it, you know. They build in wood, so that the city is easy to burn but also easy to rebuild. The non-warriors hide in the cellars and basements left behind from the Imperial city, and the foreigners are safe here, behind high stone walls. But the warriors fight to the death, and the city may well burn to the ground. Then our army can walk in to secure the water. It’s the only time it’s possible to defeat the Hrandish by armed might.”

  Zak looked at me with admiration. “You have this all worked out.”

  “I’ve had the idea for years, yes. I never had a way to put everything together until I became a thrower.” I glanced across at Xando as I spoke, but there was nothing but grief in his eyes.

  “What I should like to know—” the swordsman began.

  I raised a hand to him. “Forgive me, but time is short. It must be close to dawn, and I need to find a prince to get me into the tunnel before my husband sets his dogs hunting for me.”

  “What about him?” Zak said, tipping his head towards the krin haar. “Would he do?”

  “He hasn’t the markings of a prince.”

  “The people high above won’t know the difference, will they?”

  “But the guards at the lower tunnel entrance will.”

  “No problem,” said the swordsman. “They sleep at night, like proper little mother’s boys. We can take them, easily.”

  I thought quickly. We could not afford any mistakes at this stage. “A real prince would have his krin haar with him.”

  “Easy! We can whip up some plausible warriors for you, Gracious Lady.”

  “He might not know the signals,” Zak said.

  “I can find out,” I said.

  I walked across to the warrior, who stood a little straighter at my approach. “You will answer me truthfully.”

  “I will answer you truthfully.”

  “Do you know the signals to access the water tunnel?”

  “I do know the signals to access the water tunnels.”

  I turned to Zak with raised eyebrows. “Well?”

  He grinned at me, teeth glimmering. “Let’s do this!”

  ~~~~~

  The swordsman was right – the guards at the tunnel entrance were asleep, two inside their hut, and two more stretched out on the ground, spears at their sides.

  Zak and I stood back, waiting with my tame warrior and the two fakes until the rest of the rebels had done their job. They were efficient, I have to say. Silent as cats, they had those guards gagged and bound in no time at all. I don’t even know if the guards cried out, since the thundering of the water from the tunnel made it impossible to hear anything.

  Then the enthralled warrior was brought forward and I gave him his instructions. From inside the guards’ hut, he rang a bell that sounded high above. When faces appeared, gazing down on us from afar, he made some gestures with one arm. With a wave, the faces vanished.

  Then we waited. It was well past dawn, and a few early workers were already up and about their business for the day. Not the warriors, who slept away the morning, but the traders and craftsmen and livestock keepers and merchants who kept the city’s lifeblood flowing were beginning to stir. It was terrifying to stand, clearly visible from the city further round the lake, imagining the wondering looks and questioning discussions. It only needed one to wander round to see what was happening, and then the alarm would be raised.

  We were exposed and vulnerable. There was no escape past the tunnel outlet, and only a narrow shelf of land between the wall of rock towering above us and the lake. I suppose if we were challenged we could jump into the water, but the force of the tunnel jet made the water so turbulent here, there was little chance of swimming. So we waited and hoped no one saw anything questionable about us.

  In the distance, traders’ carts moved into place in the open space before the meeting pavilion, and two men herded a small flock of sheep down
the path to the camp below the lake. A couple of small boats rowed out into the lake from the far shore, and threw down nets. But no one came near us.

  I hadn’t noticed, but Zak nudged my arm. “The water’s dropped.”

  It was true, the gush of water from the tunnel was less forceful now. Gradually, as we watched, it lowered until it was no more than a trickle. We walked forward to the gaping tunnel mouth. There on the wall nearest to us was a metal walkway leading away into the darkness.

  “Are you ready?” Zak said.

  I nodded. This was what I had come here for, the task I had wanted to achieve my whole life. Finally I could restore hope to my people. Yes, I was ready.

  45: The Lake

  The tunnel wasn’t straight; that was the first surprise. Within a hundred paces it curved round and the sunlight from the entrance was lost to us. We had torches, but we didn’t need them. The walkway glowed softly in the gloom, a gentle blue light that led our steps safely upwards. I wondered if it was magic, but Zak was more realistic. “Luminous paint – ingenious.”

  The walkway was flat, with steps at regular intervals. Below our feet, at the bottom of the tunnel, a small stream still flowed, gushing merrily, the sound reverberating all round us. Everything dripped, soaking us. The metal walkway was wet under our feet, but not slippery, and there was a rail to hold.

  We moved as quickly as we could. It was unlikely the warriors above would release the flow before we reached the top, but it was still unsettling to know that they could. We both wore practical workers’ clothes, rough tunics, trousers and cloaks, with solid boots, and carried packs of supplies. We would be camping at the upper lake, and Zak had prepared all we would need ahead of time. He carried a short sword, a bow and dagger, prepared for any eventuality. I hoped he wouldn’t need them.

  We didn’t talk much as we climbed. My legs burned at the many steps leading us up and up and up, and I was soon out of breath. It was exhausting. I wasn’t as fit as I had been at Twisted Rock, not to mention my long, difficult night. Zak, however, hardly seemed stretched at all.

 

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