Scarred Man

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Scarred Man Page 36

by Bevan McGuiness


  ‘Down,’ Slave hissed.

  Keshik threw himself down into the tall grass and lay still as the horses approached. He raised his head slightly and, as he watched, the air shimmered and changed. For a moment, he saw a city come into view. It was a beautiful city, with soaring towers and grand buildings, but the horsemen galloped through and it shivered out of existence again.

  Once out into the plain, the man at the head raised his hand. They came to a stop. He gestured towards the pile of bodies and signalled for a troop of men to investigate before the rest of them turned north and rode away.

  Keshik and Slave lay motionless as the men rode past them, close enough for them to hear their voices.

  ‘Ice and wind, what a stench.’

  ‘Typical calpulli, leave the mayehqueh to do all their dirty work.’

  ‘Can’t expect nobles to get their hands dirty. That’s what we mayehqueh are for.’

  ‘You know I think I’d rather do this than go with them. You heard where they are going.’

  ‘Sssa, I wouldn’t be caught dead near the Tulugma. You’ve heard what they do to unwelcome guests.’

  ‘Don’t believe a word of it. We’ll need them all.’

  ‘Ha! I heard that woman is the Eye of Varuun and she’s got the eyes of the Quanhtli.’

  ‘Did you see that other one, the one with the shapeshifter? What a beauty she is.’

  ‘And so’s that spurre, but you don’t want to cuddle up to either.’

  The men all laughed as they rode past. Slave reached out and grabbed Keshik, as if sensing he was about to rise and attack the Agents there and then. Keshik glared at Slave, but he was not looking. They lay still, listening to the complaints of the Agents as they dug a hole and buried their dead.

  ‘Hey!’ one of them shouted. ‘This one’s been stripped.’

  ‘This one, too.’

  ‘What’s that about?’

  ‘Save it for your achulti. We’re not here to think, just dig.’

  ‘Ice and wind, look at this one!’

  ‘That’s Huitzilin, I think.’

  ‘What did that to him?’

  ‘Whatever it was, I don’t want to meet it.’

  ‘Sssa, you’ve got that right.’

  Slave grabbed Keshik’s wrist again. ‘We need to be close to the wall when they go through,’ he whispered. ‘Slip through with them.’

  Keshik grunted and started to worm his way forward.

  The Agents took a long time to complete their grisly work and it was nearing dusk by the time they made their way back. Slave and Keshik were lying flat close to where the tracks of the army first appeared, hoping the Agents would retrace their path back into the city.

  Fortunately, they did. They rode close to where Slave and Keshik waited, and passed them. Just as the last rode through, the hidden men darted after them, staying as low as they could.

  Inside, they found themselves in a broad street, paved with huge stones. On either side were buildings with windows facing the street. Slave and Keshik ran fast, keeping to the shadows. They followed the Agents, who never once looked back or gave any indication of being aware of their surroundings.

  Keshik wondered whether it was laziness, incompetence or simply lack of awareness that allowed them to be so careless. Surely they must know how easy it was to come in with them? Or perhaps they had been secure so long behind their magical shield that they simply took its safety for granted. Either way, the Agents trotted unaware through the wide, sparsely populated streets leading the intruders to where they wanted to go.

  The sun slid slowly to the horizon, making the shadows darker and longer as it did so. Slave and Keshik took advantage of the growing cover to move easily, dodging the people who were going about their daily business.

  Perhaps it was the ease with which they followed the Agents, perhaps it was Slave’s lack of experience in a city or perhaps it was Keshik’s own carelessness, but they rounded a corner to find Agents watching them.

  They had formed a ring in a small paved area, possibly a market that had closed for the evening, and had their weapons levelled, prepared for trouble. Keshik skidded to a halt and instinctively drew his swords, but the number of drawn bows aimed at his chest made him hesitate. Were they further away he would have taken them on, confident of his ability to strike arrows out of the air, but barely ten paces away, he would not have time. With a sigh he lowered his blades, turning to Slave as he did so, but the man was not there.

  ‘Ice and wind,’ Keshik muttered. How did he move so fast, and so silently?

  ‘Who are you?’ the Agent in the middle demanded.

  ‘Keshik.’

  ‘I know that name. Why are you here?’

  ‘I am of the Tulugma,’ Keshik said, recalling the Agents’ conversation from earlier in the day.

  ‘Not any more,’ the Agent replied. ‘You are kabutat, I seem to recall.’

  Keshik shrugged, inwardly cursing his notoriety. ‘We of the Tulugma have many secrets.’

  ‘You took a risk, entering our city alone.’

  Keshik sighed, hoping to give the impression of being bored with the conversation. ‘Are you going to take me to the Queen, or not? I have a message for her from my masters of the Tulugma.’

  ‘No. Not the Queen. I think you should meet with the tlatoque.’

  Keshik thought fast. What was the title I heard earlier? ‘Not the achulti?’

  ‘No, not just my achulti. I think a Tulugma who enters the city without warrant deserves to go further up the chain.’ He gestured to the Agent at his right. ‘Get his weapons.’ To the rest he said, ‘Bring him.’

  Keshik was grabbed roughly by two Agents and had his hands bound by a third. He stared hard at the man tying his wrists.

  ‘I know your face,’ he spat. ‘We of the Tulugma have ways of dealing with our enemies.’

  The Agent stepped back after finishing the knots. He raised his face and held Keshik’s gaze for a moment. ‘You are kabutat,’ he said.

  ‘I know what that means. Do you?’

  A flicker of uncertainty crossed the Agent’s face.

  ‘You think it is a disgrace to be kabutat?’ Keshik snarled. ‘Think again.’

  The uncertainty on the Agent’s face shifted into downright fear. Keshik smiled, having achieved his aim. Once again, unarmed and bound, he had brought fear to his captors. ‘A reputation is worth more than a warm blanket.’ The old saying was true.

  Watching from the shadows, silent and hidden, Slave wondered at Keshik’s ability to manipulate those around him. He knew that were he to be in the same situation, he would have drawn his Claw and fought. But in allowing himself to be captured, Keshik had earned safe passage through the city. Not only that, men with a captive were less likely to be alert to others following. The Tulugma had made it easier for both of them. It never occurred to Slave that he would be unable to extract Keshik from captivity, but they needed to find Myrrhini, and these men would eventually take them both straight to her.

  44

  Myrrhini stared at herself in the mirror. Despite having her eyes gouged out by the Queen, she still had sight — of a sort. Her sockets burned with an inner red fire; it seemed actual flames writhed within them. Everything had taken on the disturbing double image Quetzalxoitl had spoken of. What is, and what could be.

  ‘How did this happen?’ she asked the mirror. Even her own reflection carried the double image. She could not make any sense of the two images, only notice that they were slightly different. Am I going to have to wear a blindfold like Quetzalxoitl? Given the way her head was beginning to ache, she felt it was likely.

  A knock at her door made her look away from her reflection.

  ‘Who is it?’ she called.

  ‘Itxtli.’

  ‘Come in.’

  The achulti pushed open the door and entered. At the sight of her flaming eyes, he hesitated before looking away. Myrrhini lowered her eyes, but before she did, she saw that Itxtli did not have a double
image. Unlike everything else in the room, he was solid, as if the ‘what could be’ did not exist for him.

  ‘What is it?’ she asked.

  ‘The pochteca has left.’

  ‘The what?’

  ‘The pochteca, it is sixteen xuauhtlis. Two hundred and fifty-six Agents.’

  ‘That is a strange number.’

  ‘Our military structure is based around a single unit of four, forming a simple battle square, each man facing outwards, defending the men to his sides and back. The smallest single unit is the xuauhtli, then we have sixteen xuauhtlis — the pochteca, four pochtecas form a cabacera and two hundred and fifty-six xuauhtlis form a tlatoani. Each level has its own commander.’

  ‘And you are a …?’

  ‘Achulti, a leader of sixteen, the lowest commander in the line.’

  ‘I have read about soldiers, but never understood them; probably most of what I have read are romances and love stories.’

  Itxtli gave no indication that he held any opinion of her statement as he stood impassively, as if awaiting an order.

  ‘How is Maida?’ Myrrhini asked. ‘I haven’t seen her for a few days.’

  ‘Maida is causing much disquiet,’ Itxtli said. ‘And I think she is rather enjoying it.’

  Boredom, while she waits for Keshik to arrive. And Slave, he is close, too. Her memories of the man who would be surrounded by peace while bringing so much chaos were mixed. Certainly he was a man unlike any she had ever met or read of. Memories of Hinrik, of the Ce Atli, of the soldiers who had leered at the Eye of Varuun, danced through her mind. Mostly they were memories of humiliation, of pain, but there was tenderness, perhaps even love there, too.

  Would she ever find anything like what Maida and Keshik shared? Would anyone ever cross the world to find her? She looked back at the mirror, ignoring the achulti who stood patiently, and regarded her burning sockets again. With eyes like these?

  ‘What is Maida doing?’ she asked.

  ‘She and Tatya are roaming the streets of the city, apparently at random, but they are both hunting — I don’t know what for.’

  I do.

  ‘And they have arrived,’ she whispered.

  ‘Myrrhini?’ Itxtli asked. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Send word, the Scarred Man has arrived in the city. I want him brought to me as soon as he is found.’

  Itxtli went to leave, but Myrrhini raised her hand. ‘No, wait. I am supposed to be able to see anything, let me look.’

  She walked to the window and stared down, concentrating not on what she could see, but on the other images. After a short time, she closed her eyes, which made it easier to sift out the conflicting scenes. As the light was taken from her sight, the other world sprang into sharper relief. From her vantage point here so high above the city, she could look down into the lives of those below. She could see dreams, hopes, aspirations, fears, love, hate, destinies, living and dying. For a while she stood transfixed by the impossible tapestry of humanity spreading out before her.

  This was not simply watching people move about their daily lives, this was seeing their lives laid bare in every detail. She saw things that no one but the individuals concerned had any right to see, or wanted to, things that not even those involved could know. As she watched, she saw three men die, or at least make those decisions that would lead inevitably to their deaths.

  It was intoxicating, terrifying and exhilarating simultaneously. Why had she never been able to do this before? Had it only been the Queen’s attack that had given her this gift?

  There. A flash of silver, moving quickly. Peace had stolen unseen into this hidden city named Refuge. And it was armed.

  Myrrhini, her eyes still closed, moved away from the window. ‘He is going to someone called Tlatoque.’

  ‘Which tlatoque?’

  ‘That is not his name?’

  ‘No, his rank. There are three tlatoques, but it does not matter. They are all in the same place.’ He gave a short bow and turned to leave. As he moved, Myrrhini saw a Warrior’s Claw spin through the air and slice cleanly into his throat. He died without a sound, his blood pooling thick and red across the stone floor. She screamed and her eyes snapped open to see him stiffen.

  ‘What is it, Myrrhini?’ he asked.

  It was then that she realised she had Seen his death while her eyes were still closed. It was to come. That was why he had had no second image. He had no destiny save to die today.

  ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘I thought I saw something, but I was mistaken.’

  Itxtli left.

  Why didn’t I say something? Keep him here? Somehow stop him going? Why did I send him to his death?

  And send him to his death, she knew, was exactly what she had done. He was going to find this tlatoque and when he did, somehow he was going to die at Slave’s hand.

  There is nothing I can do about it.

  The thought gave her no comfort as she went back to the window and looked down on the city.

  ‘Where’s Maida?’ she said.

  Maida was growing more frustrated by the moment. Myrrhini had said Keshik would be here in this city soon, but so far there was no sign of him. She was getting bored with this city with its broad, clean streets, tended gardens and wide-eyed citizenry. They stared all the time, like they had never seen either a cat or a woman. Admittedly, Tatya was a huge cat and so far Maida had not seen anyone with her hair colour, but that was no excuse.

  Tatya rumbled in anticipation at the sound of approaching horses. She enjoyed the effect she had on horses, even the well-trained military ones, and if Maida were to be honest with herself, she could use the diversion of watching them panic. Tatya sat in the middle of the road and purred. People hurried past, averting their eyes and clutching children close. Maida shook her head in mock dismay at Tatya’s action.

  ‘You aren’t going to simply sit here, are you?’ she asked.

  Tatya’s purr deepened. ‘Why not?’ she rumbled. ‘You want to find this Keshik and if these are Agents, maybe they can help you.’

  ‘But you will frighten them.’

  ‘Can’t I have some fun?’

  Maida stroked the shapeshifter’s huge head and ruffled her mane. ‘Of course you can play.’ She hesitated, remembering the room in Leserlang where she had wanted to ‘play’ before. How have I forgotten what she is? ‘But no killing anyone,’ she added.

  Tatya’s purr faded a little.

  The Agents trotted around the corner and clattered to an untidy halt at the sight of the huge black spurre. Tatya rose languidly and yawned to show her white fangs, and Maida took a step forward but froze in astonishment.

  Hands tied, lashed to a horse’s saddle, dishevelled and unarmed, Keshik lifted his eyes to meet hers. His reaction was as fast as it was violent. He whipped around, jerking his arms back and down with the full force of his body, unbalancing the Agent who cried out in surprise and fell heavily. Before his head hit the ground with a disturbingly loud crack, Keshik had lashed out with his foot and kicked the horse’s back leg. It shied, causing Keshik’s swords to fall to the ground. He caught one and slashed the rope tying him to the horse.

  Keshik was free in a heartbeat. He stood for a moment looking, as if disbelieving, at Maida, before running straight towards her. Maida, for her part, was running towards Keshik with Tatya at her side. The big shapeshifter had shifted from purr to growl, her yawn changing to a snarl. Agents called out, unable to decide what posed the greatest threat: the bounding spurre or the hard-eyed Swordmaster, fully armed and running.

  The first three Agents who fell, clutching savage wounds from the swirling swords, decided the others and they turned their attention on Keshik’s glittering blades. In moments, he was surrounded, polearms lowered to ring him with sharpened steel. Keshik roared his defiance as he raised his swords to hack at the thrusting weapons.

  Metal met metal in a shower of sparks. A three-pronged spear slashed past Keshik’s chest, catching in his jerkin and throwing him off b
alance. He shifted his weight to regain steady footing and slammed his metal blade into the wooden shaft of the spear. The wood splintered and broke. The Agent holding it felt his balance go as the momentum of his thrust was thrown off. Keshik twisted past another heavy spearhead and drove his magical sword upwards to impale the unsteady Agent. Horses whinnied and pranced, Agents shouted as Keshik weaved his way past spears seeking to end his life, parrying some, hacking at others. Agents who found their spears sliced apart started to use the broken hafts as makeshift clubs.

  Blows rained down towards Keshik’s unprotected head, making him stagger. One struck him a glancing blow on the shoulder. He shouted in pain and dropped to the ground under the blows. For an instant, the Agents were put off guard by his sudden collapse, but the moment was short-lived as he used it to roll aside and spring back up to his feet beside a horse. The mounted Agent had no time to call out as both swords drove upwards. Blood fountained out of his mouth and he collapsed when Keshik pulled them out from under the breastplate.

  A scream of horror, cut off quickly, announced Tatya’s arrival in the melee. She had sprung from her run and landed full on an unsuspecting Agent’s back. Her claws dug in and her weight drove the Agent off his horse. He landed heavily with Tatya on his back. Their joint mass, combined with the momentum of her spring, was enough to crush the life out of him. Tatya stared up at the surrounding men on horseback before selecting her next target. She leapt forward, claws outstretched, into the chest of another man.

  In the swirling mass of weapons and blood, no one noticed Slave dart in from the shadows. He sliced through the strong tendons of a horse’s rear legs, bringing it squealing down. The Agent died with a swift thrust from the Claw and Slave moved silently on to the next man.

  Keshik brought down another Agent with a savage blow that took his leg almost completely off, before continuing his swinging motion to face a bearded Agent wielding a massive war axe. The big man had dismounted and faced Keshik on foot. The other Agents seemed to pull back slightly.

 

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