Amaskan's Blood

by Raven Oak

  Unable to sleep, he rose and stuck his arms through the sleeves of his robe while crossing to one of the few windows in his bedchamber: a tiny square that afforded him a view of the capital city of Alesta and beyond it to the forest in the North.

  It used to be said that good tidings came from the North. Now they came from the West. He laughed aloud at the thought.

  He retreated to his dresser where he fingered the letter from his sepier. The paper still smelled of sweat and leather, of her, and its corners bore her dirty fingerprints. He thrust a fist in the air, the grin stretching his cheeks too wide. Iliana was coming home. Leon’s fingers shook as he unfolded the letter.

  To His Majesty, King Leon Poncett III,

  At your request, I delivered your letter. It was several days before I heard back from my contact, who told me this morning that the master has agreed to your terms.

  Though he warns that should I ever set foot in Sadai again (or you for that matter), he can’t be responsible for what may or may not happen. She’s to meet me in Brieghton, assuming I make it out of Sadai alive.

  Your Servant,

  -I

  The closing of the sitting room door alerted him to the presence of someone outside his bedchamber. “His Majesty is still asleep,” said one of the guards.

  “Not anymore,” Leon muttered. He opened the door to Goefrin’s hunched frame and stepped out into the sitting room. The old man tried to appear relaxed, a sleepy smile on his weathered face, but his tight grip on his walking stick gave him away. “What is it, old friend? Why such a tense visit this early in the new day?”

  “Odd news reaches these ears; news that I didn’t quite believe.”

  “Leave us,” said King Leon to the guards who retreated to the outer hallway. He gestured for the advisor to continue and took a seat to a chorus of creaks and pops.

  Both of us are getting old, neither of us moving with ease anymore. Goefrin was old when I became King, but now he’s ancient. I have to wonder if he sleeps at all these days. Heavy bags dragged under Goefrin’s green eyes, bags that took up more room than the sallow sunken cheeks did. Was it all an act?

  “You look at me as if I’m dying, boy. It’s just age.”

  King Leon forced a laugh. “You just remind me of my own mortality.”

  “Another coughing fit, I hear. You should rest more,” Goefrin replied. “Which is why the news I’ve heard is so concerning.”

  Blood rushed to Leon’s face, and he took a slow, steady breath. “Well, what news? I assume you’ve come to tell me.”

  “My connections sent word that an Amaskan agent is heading for our border.”

  Now they got to the point at hand. “An Amaskan?” Leon feigned ignorance.

  “I am curious to know if any of this is true, Your Majesty. You swore never to have dealings with the Amaskans again after—after the death of your daughter, Iliana.”

  Ah. So Goefrin lies. Impossible that he doesn’t know what happened to my daughter.

  “Oh. I know of whom you speak. Your connections aren’t as good as they used to be. Know you not who comes to our borders?” said Leon.

  At his shoulder shrug, Leon continued, “Six months ago, my connections brought me word that there was one among the Amaskans that bore a striking resemblance to Princess Margaret, one who, for all that she is a killer, moved with the grace of my late wife.”

  Goefrin’s eyes bulged. “Surely not—”

  “Yes, Goefrin. The agent in question is my daughter, Princess Iliana. She’s been alive all these years, hidden away and raised by the Grand Master himself.”

  “Impossible. Are you sure?”

  Leon tilted his head and stared at the old man. “Very sure. I’ve no idea how, but my daughter is alive.”

  “Your Majesty, this is great news. How ever did you manage this information?”

  The false glee in Goefrin’s voice didn’t reach his eyes, which widened to their whites. It was the confirmation Leon needed. “Of all the things you taught me over the years, the most important was having good contacts and sepiers.”

  “I’m glad I c-could help.”

  “Let’s just say that I called in a favor, and now, the Princess is on her way home where she belongs.”

  “Amazing.” His tone was flat like his eyes, and King Leon hid a grin behind his hand as he feigned a cough.

  Goefrin poured a glass of water and offered it to the King. After a few sips, Leon said, “It’s more than amazing. My contacts are scouring the Little Dozen for the truth. I mean, someone has kept her from me. And they’ve made you look quite the fool, too, by passing word to your own kin that my daughter was dead.”

  “S-so they have, Your Majesty. I will have to find out who has betrayed us all.”

  “My people are on it, old friend.” His grimace must have been quite fierce as Goefrin jerked back. “We will find who is responsible, and they will pay. Starting with the Grand Master himself.”

  This time Goefrin’s gasp was genuine. “Your Majesty. No one goes up against the Order of Amaska. No one. Not even the Senate. No one even knows the Grand Master’s identity, let alone how to find him—”

  “I do.”

  Goefrin’s elbow bumped the pitcher of water on the table beside him. Water sloshed over the side and wet the dark blue tablecloth.

  “Also, if I recall your kin found him. Remember? They arranged for Iliana to be taken to safety.”

  “Y-yes, Your Majesty. But that was many years ago. Those sources are long gone to me.”

  “But not to me. Not to a King.”

  Leon studied his “old friend” and watched him squirm under his gaze. “Trust me when I tell you, Goefrin, that these Amaskans will pay, and all those who work for them. Even if it takes me to the end of my days, I will make them suffer.”

  The Order of Amaska; 255 Agaen 21st

  Bredych told her to rest. Get a few hours’ shuteye before meeting him for the job’s details. Not that she could sleep. Even after a night’s ride through the rain, Adelei’s limbs were pins and needles after the Masters’ revelation.

  Her body refused to relax, and Adelei spent the time alone in her room. Tiny though it was, the room was home and had been since being named a full member of the Order. Just enough room for a cot, the room made use of its vertical space. The only bookshelf was built into the cot’s headboard. Several shelves lined the walls, though Adelei owned few knickknacks. A storage chest for clothes and weapons rested at the foot of the bed, and beyond that, the door itself.

  One entrance and exit. No windows.

  Every room in the complex was built this way. No one could pinch her between two enemies, and they’d be lucky to surprise her with the bells hanging from the door’s knob. Adelei brushed her fingers over her books. She supposed they would be sent to her in Alexander. She doubted she’d be given pack mules enough to take it all.

  Weapons would go with her, as would clothes. Not that she had many. Four years in Amaskan black left little need for much else. Though she supposed she would need a disguise or two. I can’t imagine entering the Kingdom of Alexander in these clothes—I’d be riddled with arrows before I’d even touched the border.

  She kicked the chest, and it rattled, the metal latch clinking against the lock. “This is ridiculous.” No one affirmed or denied her statement, and she stared at the door. When Grand Master Bredych didn’t stride through it, she sighed and thumbed through her books for the familiar green spine of The Book of Ja’ahr. Adelei flipped through pages at random. A few minutes later, she tossed the book to the foot of the bed where it lay, pages splayed like her emotions.

  I don’t want comfort. I don’t want some holy words to reaffirm the Masters’ decision. What I want is for my father to explain himself.

  The flush spread over her face and arms, and she leaned back, knocking her head against the wooden frame. “Damn, that hurt.” Adelei rubbed her fingers across the nape of her neck. The stubble on her scalp tickled her fingers as she massage
d the smarting spot, and the door remained stubbornly closed.

  Her foot tapped on the blanket and when she noticed her fingers drumming across her knees, she stood and stretched her arms over her head before bringing them down to the stone floor. Adelei balanced her weight on her arms and lifted her feet slowly until she stood in a handstand. The blood rushed to her head, and her pulse throbbed in her ears.

  Blood is life. Life is blood. I am alive in all things, and in all things do I live. The words came unbidden, and when she pushed them aside, her arm wobbled. Adelei’s elbow gave and as she tumbled to the ground, the bells on the door chimed.

  She rolled upright on her toes to find Grand Master Bredych standing in the doorway. “You look like you’ve energy to burn. Let’s go to the field.”

  His pace left her little time to do more than slam shut her door before sprinting after him. Neither spoke as they traversed the main building’s hallways. Other Amaskans greeted them as they passed—a word here, a nod there—but most recognized the seriousness of their posture and allowed them quick passage toward the rear exit.

  Sparring generally took place in the training hall, but if the training called for mounts, Amaskans went to the field. A hundred acres of land: some of it housed mares and their foals, but the majority of it held riding trails with a variety of obstacles. Simple jumps and lightly roughened trail for the greenest of riders lay nearest their path, though the paths would eventually lead to over a dozen trails to challenge even the hardiest of riders.

  Both horsemanship and weapon work could be trained out in the field. Adelei didn’t stop when they reached the path leading to a building used for scaling and acrobatics. She continued around the hoof-scuff trail that led to the stables. “Don’t use Midnight,” he ordered, and she veered left instead of right. “Midnight will need all his strength for the trip through the desert. Just use one of the training horses.”

  When she approached a sturdy mare of fifteen hands, she spoke not in Sadain but Ja’aran—the old tongue of the Order dating back tens of generations. At her word, the mare relaxed and allowed herself to be handled. Adelei rubbed the mare’s neck. “Good girl.”

  Once saddled, Adelei met Bredych outside and followed him as he led his horse to one of the gentler courses. His hand rubbed his right knee, but when he caught her watching him, he turned his attention to the horse’s reins. She hadn’t thought that crossbow bolt to the joint bothered him anymore. He got it trying to escape Alexandrian guards, damned fool. Amaskans don’t cross that border. The corners of her lips slipped down into a grimace.

  “There are things you must know about this job, Adelei. I know you have questions, but let me tell you what I can first. Can you do that?”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Bredych turned sharp flint on her and squinted. “Come now, daughter. Surely we can speak candidly.” He kicked his horse into a healthy trot.

  Her response was to stand up in the stirrups and release the reins, her balance held by the grip of her thigh muscles. The showy move was a risk with her muscles sore and body lacking sleep, but she held a twisted enjoyment in taking such a risk. When he uttered a single word, her horse shifted into a canter, and she wobbled. Youth held her in place until they passed a clearing, and Adelei returned to the saddle. Her thighs ached, heavy with sleep toxins. But the feeling meant she was alive.

  But for how long? If she was sent to Alexander—

  “I regret sending you to Alexander.” He interrupted her thoughts with a whisper. “I don’t do this by choice, Adelei, but necessity makes fools of us all. How much do you remember of your childhood?”

  “You mean my time before the Order.” He nodded, and she closed her eyes a moment. Brief snatches of memories: a forest, being cold, her mother’s voice, a doll. Adelei shook her head. “Not a lot. Just brief bits and pieces really.”

  His hands played with the black threaded circles along the reins. “I’ve never kept it a secret from you, how you got here.”

  “You mean how that man—my birth father—” The word was poison on her lips. “—sold me into slavery to keep his kingdom from war?” Bredych shifted his weight in the saddle, and she sucked in a swift intake of air. “Is he why I’m going back?”

  Her father didn’t answer, but she’d wait him out. They passed several Amaskans on the trail as they rounded the corner. “Your father has ordered you home.”

  “What right does he have—he’s not even my father—”

  “Adelei, he knows our location, the Order—” Adelei caught her breath. “—If I don’t send you home, he’ll disclose it to the Boahim Senate. The entire Order would be at risk.”

  “King or not, he’s a client, nothing more. He can’t possibly know our location. Why entertain his desires?”

  Master Bredych shook his bald head. “He sent… someone directly into the Order. Someone I’d not seen in a long time. When he says he knows our location, he knows.” When her mount danced, she found her fingers wrapped in a death grip around the reins. She relaxed stiff fingers and stretched them until they regained a healthier pink color.

  “There’s another reason why I’m agreeing to this charade,” said her master. “There are rumors. People believe that your fa—” she scowled, and he corrected himself, “—King Leon is adjusting his borders. It’s not something the Order gets involved in, but there are some who believe he may be gearing up for another war with the Shadians. True or not, if his military is accumulating land by way of dead farmers, that would be something worth knowing.”

  Bredych faced her. “Go ahead. I can see the question on the tip of your tongue.”

  “Father, I-I understand the need to investigate this, but sending me across the border is a death sentence. Even if the King ordered me there, I’d never make it across the border. The people of Alexander would kill me before I was allowed to reach the capital city. I can’t go back there, certainly not to a man who sold me. I want nothing to do with this man.”

  “The Order requires you to complete this job.”

  “Is there even a job to take? Is the Princess under attack, or is that a guise to force your hand? Did you even think of that, Father?”

  His sigh was one of reflex, an action so engrained in her memories she could picture it without trying: the slump of his shoulders, one of which bore a spider-webbed scar from an arrow; the way he closed his eyes right before the exhale; and the slight tick near his mouth as he prepared his argument. His fingers held too tight to his reins until she apologized. “As far as we know, there have been attempts on her life. Possibly by Tribor. Before you ask, yes, we investigated it. And at high cost, too.”

  The rolling hills gave way to rockier terrain as they approached the coastline. The Harren Sea stretched out before them, a hazy blue-gray with white tipped peaks scattered here and there. Instead of turning with the trail, Adelei pulled the mare to a stop to watch the smaller waves break across the rocks up ahead. How could she leave this? The spray filled the air with the smell of salt and seaweed.

  “Every time I look across this ocean, I think of you, Father. When I first came here, I was so young. My mind was confused, like the waves. I thought the ocean was ugly. Grey and gloomy. Depressing.” Adelei dismounted and gave the mare lead enough to munch on the tall grass nearby. When he stepped up beside her, she lifted a hand to his face and stared into his blue-grey eyes. “I’ve grown to love the grey.”

  Tears welled up and threatened to spill over his wrinkled lids. “I have no choice, Adelei. If I could undo this, I would.”

  “This is my home. My family. I’d be leaving this forever.” She’d be leaving him forever. A lump rose in her throat then, and she inhaled deeply of the sea air to cover it.

  “You’re the best Amaskan I’ve ever trained, daughter, and I need you to be the best. Return home to your birth father. Protect the Princess from these assassination attempts. Find out what beast swims within the murk.”

  “I wouldn’t be who I am without you.” He dabb
ed at the corner of his eyes, which she ignored. Adelei tossed a stone into the ocean where it sank beneath the waves. “How did King Leon find out our location?”

  Bredych lowered his frame to the ground, his knees popping as he crossed his legs. “I don’t know.”

  His fingers traced patterns in the ground. He was lying. He always doodled when he was hiding something. “Father, the Boahim Senate has come after the Amaskans before. What’s changed? Let them come.”

  “I’m too old to start a war against the Senate. We kill because Anur says we must, for Justice—not even the Senate can change that—but if we compromise the location of the Order, we put at risk not just Amaskans, but anyone who has ever hired us, anyone who has ever cried out for our help. Even the Gods themselves may not be safe.”

  The air cast a chill about Adelei, and she pulled her black cloak tighter about her shoulders. How can Gods not be safe? Something about the way his jaw pulsed kept her from asking, though she itched to do so. She gazed at the ocean and waited. Maybe time would loosen his tongue if words would not.

  The tide rolled in while their horses grazed until the sun’s passage and their growling stomachs reminded them that life continued. As they gathered up their mounts, Bredych said, “You wanted to know how you’re going to get into the Kingdom of Alexander.”

  “Yes.”

  She saw the knife too late, its metal glinting in the setting sun. By then his hand had already moved between the distance, and the blade peeled across her jaw. Adelei didn’t shout, didn’t scream though she ground her teeth and clenched her fingers into fists. Grand Master Bredych held the knife before him, a piece of her skin dangling from it. Blood ran down her jaw to land, hidden on her cloak.

  Her tattoo was gone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The Order of Sadai

  “You can’t enter Alexander as an Amaskan.”

  Adelei held the absorbent cloth to her jaw and glared at her master. The astringent stung as she huddled near the ledge, but that wasn’t what brought tears to her eyes. Damn him. How dare he? She closed her eyes and breathed deep of the ocean air. The trickle of blood slowed and she tossed the rag to land a few inches from his feet, where he stared at it.