‘Still the same?’
‘Yar, they’ve still put the flame to the Lac’un farmlands. Nothing new there. They’re still filling the sky with the smoke of their burning, still killing anything that moves, still sacking every town, village and city they come across.’
‘Any news on whose army it is?’
‘The Beq. Whoever that is. It’s the only name coming out of the west.’
Slave felt his gut go cold. If the Revenant’s army of chaos had torched the farmlands, the whole world would suffer. And it meant that the Revenant was seeking simple chaos and destruction with no plan to the future. Torching farms was not the move of a conqueror, just a destroyer. Tchinwukana finished his drink without answering. Seppe refilled it. Slave finished his own drink and waited, sensing something was about to happen. Keshik rested his hand on his belt where he had hidden a throwing knife and sipped from his mug, his eyes alert and active. Silence seemed to flow out from Tchinwukana, filling the room. Outside, the storm continued unabated.
‘And the visitors?’ Tchinwukana lowered his voice, but not low enough. He jerked his head towards Slave.
Seppe shrugged. ‘Arrived just before you. They have coin. Just travellers.’
‘Travellers? Have you looked at them?’ Tchinwukana sounded sceptical. ‘That dark one is no ordinary traveller.’
‘They pay, they eat. The rest is none of my business.’
‘They staying?’
‘Yar.’
The normal hum of conversation recommenced and the strange sense of foreboding faded. Slave stared at Tchinwukana, wondering about him, what sort of man he was, why he was there at this time. As if he felt eyes on him, Tchinwukana turned and looked straight at Slave. He raised his mug in salute. Slave returned the gesture with his own empty mug before standing and making his way across the room to sit beside the Agent of the Blindfolded Queen.
‘Another?’ Seppe asked.
‘Yar,’ Slave answered.
‘Lac’un?’ Tchinwukana asked.
‘Yar.’
‘How long since you been home?’
‘A while now.’
‘Since the troubles?’
‘Nar.’ Slave shook his head. ‘Left before.’ But only just.
‘You’re a long way from home,’ Tchinwukana went on. ‘Travelling anywhere in particular?’
Slave raised his drink and held Tchinwukana’s gaze before nodding. ‘We’re heading to your home,’ he said softly.
‘Thought you might be.’
‘Why?’
‘A couple of Crossings back, the Queen sent Agents out across the world looking for the female companion of the Scarred Man. And here we have two scarred men not twenty days from her borders. So, I’m wondering if you’re not both looking for a couple of women?’
‘Yar.’
‘The name Beq mean anything to you?’
‘Yar.’
‘Have you met him?’
Slave hesitated before inclining his head slowly. As he suspected he might, Tchinwukana sat up a little and his eyes widened.
‘Tell me about him,’ he instructed.
‘Nar. Not for free.’
‘Ah,’ said Tchinwukana. ‘How much?’
‘Directions and free passage into the land of the Blindfolded Queen,’ Slave said softly.
‘No one gets into the land free, you know that.’
‘I didn’t know that, but if you want to know about the Beq, you will make an exception.’
‘Not going to happen, visitor.’ Tchinwukana rose to his feet.
Slave turned away from him and pretended to focus on his drink. ‘Then you can go home and tell your queen you failed to learn about her enemy.’
Tchinwukana drew his sword. ‘Mistake, visitor,’ he said. At his words, the two men with him followed his lead. Slave heard Keshik rise and draw his swords.
‘Yar, a mistake, but not mine,’ Slave said. He threw his drink at one Agent, rolled backwards off his stool, kicking another Agent as he did so before landing on his feet with his Claw out at Tchinwukana’s throat. Keshik crossed the floor and slammed the hilt of one of his swords into the head of the Agent who had received Slave’s drink. He went down without a sound.
‘Now we can talk,’ Slave said to Tchinwukana.
‘Not here,’ Seppe said. ‘Take it out back, to your rooms. I don’t think we want to hear it.’
Slave grabbed Tchinwukana’s arm and shoved him towards the door. Keshik sheathed his swords and followed. The door opened onto a small paved courtyard, currently awash from the pouring rain, across which was another small building with three doors. Slave pushed Tchinwukana towards the door on the left.
Keshik walked ahead and opened the door, allowing Slave to shove Tchinwukana inside and down onto a chair. After Keshik closed the door, Slave held his Claw hard against the Agent’s throat.
‘Tell me why the Blindfolded Queen wants Myrrhini,’ he demanded.
‘I don’t know anyone called Myrrhini. All I know is what I said: she sent Agents all over the world looking for the female companion of the Scarred Man. For about a hundred days or so, women have been brought into her court.’
‘The Scarred Man,’ Keshik said. ‘Did she say anything else about him?’
Tchinwukana looked from Keshik to Slave before answering. ‘Silver, she mentioned silver, but it was not widely known.’
‘Silver? Nothing else?’
‘And chains.’
‘I was in chains when they took Maida,’ Keshik said.
‘And I was a slave,’ Slave added.
‘The silver would suggest you,’ Keshik said.
‘It would.’ Slave leant close to Tchinwukana. ‘Is the Blindfolded Queen Mertian?’
Tchinwukana’s eyes widened. ‘How did you know that?’
‘So she had a vision which told her to seek the Eye of Varuun, but when her Agents got there, the Place of the Acolytes had been destroyed.’
‘Which is why they are just bringing in everyone they can find,’ Keshik added.
‘I think so. Which begs the question: why does she want the Eye?’ This last was addressed to Tchinwukana who shook his head again.
‘I am just her Agent. I am not told such things.’
‘But you do know where her land is, and how we might enter it unseen.’
‘It can’t be done, the Queen sees everything in her land.’
‘She’s Mertian, of course.’ It was suddenly all clear to Slave. As was what they had to do. ‘If you can’t get us in unseen, then can you take us in openly? I think she will want to see us, when she knows who we are.’
‘You’re asking me to take you to her?’
‘Yar.’
Tchinwukana swallowed hard before answering. ‘Then on your heads be it. I will take you to see my queen.’
36
Myrrhini closed the door behind her, confused and a bit afraid. She leant against it and wrapped her arms tightly across her chest. The air was warm, humid and close, yet she shivered. All around her, the smell of polluted water filled everything, but she hardly noticed it in her confusion.
The Ce Atli, whom she had never even seen during the voyage from Usterust, had not left her side since the terrible passage through the shoals that protected the harbour here in Sullito. He had been kind and solicitous, yet he had taken every opportunity to touch her. Never overtly, never inappropriately, always gently, but always warmly and slightly lingeringly.
Myrrhini knew she was naïve, certainly when compared with the worldly cynicism of Maida, but she had watched the flirting of the servants in the Place, had given her virginity to Hinrik and had read all her life. She was not a fool. This tall, sensitive, intelligent man desired her.
He wants me. He has hardly met me, and he wants me. He can barely keep his hands off me. How do I feel about that?
Myrrhini pushed herself away from the door and stood tall, stretching her arms high above her head.
I feel good.
I feel like a woman.
> Without realising it, Myrrhini had just made a decision. Warmth spread through her body. She looked around the room, trying to keep her eyes off the large bed that dominated it, but failing. There was only a wardrobe, and a small table which held a basin and water jug in the room. She moved to the wardrobe and pulled it open. Nothing in there, either.
No matter, the Ce Atli wants me wearing what I am wearing now. I don’t need all the silly things she was wearing.
Her mind flickered back to the sight of Maida in the flimsy undergarments, standing in front of a wardrobe not unlike this one. The lush, inviting curves of the red-haired woman had been enhanced by them in ways that Myrrhini knew her own skinny frame would not be. She was all long limbs and bones, where Maida was all muscle and curves. And breasts.
There was a soft knock at her door. Myrrhini spun around, her mind emptying of all such thoughts as she looked at the door. The knock, soft and diffident, came again.
‘Who’s there?’ she said unsteadily.
‘Ce Atli.’
Her heart seemed to stop, then pounded as if ready to burst. It thudded painfully in her chest as she stood motionless. He knocked again.
‘Onaven? Are you all right?’
Move. Put one foot in front of the other. It’s called walking. Move.
She rested her hand on the door handle. Breathe. You can do this. It does not have to be what you fear. You don’t have to do this.
She opened the door. The Ce Atli was standing there, concern on his face.
‘I was worried about you, Onaven,’ he said.
‘Come in,’ Myrrhini said, stepping aside.
He smiled — a smile that lit up his face — and stepped past her into her room. Inside, he looked around.
‘At least it is better than your cabin aboard the Queen’s Quest,’ he said. ‘And it doesn’t move.’
‘I liked the movement,’ Myrrhini said.
The healer shuddered, a little theatrically. ‘I hate the sea, I hate boats and I hate sailing in them.’
‘So why do you do it?’ Myrrhini asked as she closed the door.
‘My queen demands it of me. I obey.’
‘Why?’ Myrrhini took a step towards him.
‘I love my queen and serve her willingly.’
‘Why?’ Myrrhini took another step towards him.
‘Who cares?’ the Ce Atli said as he moved quickly and gathered Myrrhini in his arms.
His arms were strong and gentle as he lifted her off her feet and held her close, his lips seeking hers. Myrrhini felt herself weaken, as if she were melting. The Ce Atli kissed her firmly and carried her to the bed where he laid her down and then stood up. Looking down at her, a strange expression crossed his face briefly before he knelt beside her and started to unlace her dress.
Myrrhini did not feel uncomfortable or vulnerable as he undressed her. She felt inexplicably happy and at peace. Memories of Hinrik faded as he lay beside her and caressed her skin with soft, confident hands. She gave herself up to the pleasures of a skilled lover and time ceased to have any meaning. At some stage, sated and totally at peace, she fell asleep. Her mind was at rest, her body exhausted and her needs fulfilled. All hints of Hinrik had been expunged by the gentle yet commanding presence of the Ce Atli.
She barely stirred when the door opened, but a few moments later she felt the Ce Atli move suddenly. Something stirred in her mind that this was odd. She moaned and rolled over, opening her eyes to look straight into the red-pupilled stare of Tatya.
Myrrhini screamed and threw herself backwards across the bed in shock.
‘You,’ the spurre growled. ‘You do not belong any more than I do.’
‘You can speak?’ Myrrhini gasped as she continued to scrabble away from the black feline, gathering blankets around her naked body.
‘So can you,’ Tatya rumbled. She reached out one huge paw and stepped up onto the bed. Myrrhini felt the whole bed shift and bend with the weight of the predator. Claws tore the fabric on the bed as Tatya advanced purposefully towards Myrrhini.
‘What are you doing?’ Myrrhini cried.
‘Killing you,’ Tatya said with a low, rumbling growl. ‘Like should have been done at birth.’
‘Why? What have I ever done?’
‘It isn’t about you, it’s about what you are and what you could do.’
Myrrhini slipped off the bed and stood up, continuing to back away as she tried desperately to think of how she might escape. The blankets she held in front of her body would provide no protection and would only slow her down if she were to run, so she dropped them. Another step backwards brought her to the wall, its wood hard and warm against her skin.
Delay! Slow her down. Think!
‘What can I do?’ Myrrhini asked. She started to edge along the wall towards the door as Tatya came across the bed to land softly near her.
‘You brought this thing upon us, and you can use its power.’
‘What are you talking about?’ Myrrhini was halfway to the door now. The shapeshifter was close enough for her to smell its hot breath, but if she could open the door, she might use it as a shield. Myrrhini kept moving.
Tatya tensed and sprang. Myrrhini screamed, frozen by terror as the huge spurre flew at her, its mouth agape, its claws fully extended. For a moment, it seemed that time froze, allowing Myrrhini to see everything clearly. She saw the eyes, gleaming with the lust of the kill, the teeth dripping saliva, the claws unsheathed, reaching out for her throat. Her mind flicked idly through the path that had brought her to this place, to this moment. So many disparate events, so many people, so much that was impossible. How could she have possibly survived unsheltered, hungry, without any clue as to where she was going, with a broken toe, walking through the savage wilderness? How had she known to keep her identity secret? None of it made any sense.
Or did it?
‘No,’ she said calmly, holding out her hand.
Tatya stopped mid-spring like she had hit a wall. With a strangled yowl, the shapeshifter slid down the invisible barrier.
‘I forbid you to do this,’ Myrrhini said softly. ‘Instead I want —’
Her sentence went unfinished as, with a bellow, the Ce Atli threw himself across the bed to land heavily on Tatya’s back. He held a small knife that he drove viciously into her neck. Its sharp blade bit deep. As if suddenly freed, the spurre whipped her head around with a roar to grab the Ce Atli’s hand. Her teeth sank through skin, tearing ligaments and shattering bone. The Ce Atli screamed in agonised horror as the knife slipped from his ruined hand. Tatya shrugged him off her back and ripped the hand off cleanly. Myrrhini watched, shocked beyond words as the big feline tossed her head back and swallowed the hand, before returning her gaze to the screaming man.
‘You cannot forbid me this,’ she snarled. Her mouth gaped open again, this time dripping blood, and snapped shut over the Ce Atli’s head. The spurre’s jaws were like a steel trap, slamming teeth down onto the healer’s neck, completely engulfing his head. There was a terrible ripping sound as she wrenched her own head sideways, tearing her victim’s head completely away.
Myrrhini screamed again, took up the burning lantern by the door and hurled it at Tatya. It struck the spurre on the shoulder and bounced away, spreading burning oil across the bed. In an instant, the bed burst into flame. Tatya howled in animal terror and threw herself at the door, dropping the bloodied head as she sprang past Myrrhini. She slammed into the wood and crashed through it to land on all four paws out in the corridor. With a final hissing spit, she bounded away.
Myrrhini stood for a moment in shock, horrified at what she’d seen, unsure what to do. Stopping the shapeshifter had seemed completely natural. She wanted something, so she made it happen. Just like that. Despite the flames that were now starting to lick all around her, Myrrhini did not move. She stood and watched the fire, feeling very strange. It was like having daven surging through her body and mind, without having taken any of the drug.
Could it still be the dave
n I had on board the Queen’s Quest?
Even as she thought it, she knew that was not right. This was only like daven. It was not the same. For one thing, she felt under control, not as though she was being controlled by the drug.
What else can I do? What would I like to do?
A smile creased her lips.
I know.
37
When she stirred into wakefulness, Maida became aware of the smell of smoke. The shouts, pounding of feet and high-pitched scream came next, followed by her door being smashed open. She sat up as Tatya, in spurre form, burst into her room. Her eyes were wild, her mane bristled and all along her back the fur was standing on end as if she were terrified or furious. Or both.
‘What’s happening?’ Maida said, but Tatya did not shift into human form. She stayed as a spurre and glared at her.
‘Get on,’ the spurre growled. Maida stared.
‘You want me to ride you?’ she asked. Tatya growled and lowered herself into a crouch. Maida gathered the blankets around her, and climbed onto the powerful back.
She was unprepared for Tatya’s burst of speed and had to grab her stiff yellow mane for support as the spurre sprang away. Once outside her room, the smoke was thicker, the shouts louder and a sense of panic pervaded everything. Maida lay low on Tatya’s back as they fled. The shapeshifter dodged past screaming women and men, leapt over what could have been dead bodies and smashed through thin wooden walls in her mad rush to reach safety. Maida closed her eyes as the sounds of pain and suffering became louder with the smell of smoke.
By the time Tatya crashed through the door that would take them into the open air, Maida could hear the crackling of flames. The big spurre bounded through the shattered door to land and skid on the narrow wooden walkway that ran alongside the inn. Maida cut short her cry of concern and held tighter as they slewed across the wood. Tatya’s claws gripped and tore at the wood as she tried to stop before tumbling into the waterway. She came to rest before the edge and was off, bounding away from the burning building.
Maida was dimly aware of shouts and curses following her, but she paid them no heed. She was free: bounding faster than she could have imagined possible. Tatya’s muscles bunched and released in an irresistible rhythm that held the promise of great stamina. At this rate they would be out of this town and into wilderness before anyone could hope to catch up. And once out of the city, Maida was at home — no one could catch her out there.
Scarred Man Page 30