A robust man with grey eyes and tied, lank brown hair strode in. All of his features were sharp and pointed like the mountains of his home country, giving the impression of a permanent sneer on his face. The door slid shut behind him. “Sire.” He looked especially disgusted at the world today.
The king went to sit by the window and rubbed at his beard. At least this man’s presence had rid him of those damn lights. “What is it, Hegard? Is Suhla safe?”
Hegard straightened and frowned. “She is fine. But there is something else I have discovered which may threaten her, you and everyone else in this city.”
“What is this menace you speak of?”
The mercenary looked grim. “Today I took leave of my duties with Suhla as I detected wielding in the city. There have been small amounts of it at night which I attributed to be nothing more than the results of the castle’s kanaala training or perhaps an undiscovered wielder, unaware of her talent.”
King Acher felt his gorge rise. “What?!” Hegard had also been recommended on account of his effectiveness in dealing with witches.
“Indeed. I expected that your son and his team would already have spearheaded these occurrences, but when I asked one of their newer recruits if he had noticed anything untoward he replied that he had not. That aside, I went into the city to investigate. And that is when I happened on this worrying discovery.”
The old king rose from his seat and paced the perimeter of the room. “You’re telling me that Morghiad has not suppressed these wielders?”
“Worse than that. While I was walking the streets I came across something very unusual. I chanced to brush past a wielder, by far the most powerful I have ever seen, and yet the moment our contact was broken she was invisible to my senses. She is a hidden wielder, my lord. Further, her identity is known to you. She is the kahr’s benay-gosa.”
Acher felt fury consume his entire being. “Her? Are you sure of this?”
Hegard nodded gravely.
The king shook with rage. He had been deceived by a boy whose life he had saved. He had given Morghiad everything! Unaware of what he was doing, Acher picked up a delicate glass ornament, probably worth more than most people could conceive, and crushed it in his hand before throwing the remains onto the ground. Well, he couldn’t very well execute his own son for treason when there was no other heir to replace him. That would be an excellent excuse for Hirrah to invade.
Acher would have to be patient about that. And his guards were commanded by the kahr, so he could not trust them to hunt the boy down. Time. He would have to take his time over this. With much difficulty, Acher forced his passions back down and cleared his mind. “Hegard, can you dispatch this wielder alone?”
The man’s jagged face nodded. “It is possible, but she must be caught unawares. And I’ll need to separate her from the guards that Morghiad has placed around her, assuming she is not with him.”
The king rubbed at his beard. “You and I will locate her tomorrow morning. I will deal with the guards and my son. You will escort her back to the benay-gosa apartments. Take her to a small room and get rid of her.”
“I will need her to trust me, my lord.”
Acher nodded. “Do whatever is necessary. I will see you here two hours after dawn.”
The sturdy man bowed and made his exit. He had been worth every penny. Betrayed, by the man he called a son! Wielders were horrid creatures, created by nature to kill and wreak havoc upon men. But when a kanaala, the first line of defence, turned on those he was meant to protect it was unforgivable. The king ground his teeth. He had almost taken that woman as his benay-gosa! He’d have died that night utterly oblivious to his error. And Morghiad had stepped in to keep her; the boy could only have known from the off. Acher stormed into his bed chamber and collapsed onto the sheets, fully clothed. The lights had returned again. Maybe they would go once she was dead.
Soft dawn light teased Artemi’s eyes open and she squinted as it began to glare from the blade of Morghiad’s sword, which rested against the bed. He was still fast asleep, exhausted from the previous night’s exertions. The marble flagstones felt cool beneath her, and several of her muscles complained at being made to lie on it. His arm rested heavily over her side and she knew that moving it would wake him, even though he was in something much deeper than a guardian sleep. Artemi was content to lie there for a while longer, letting him enjoy the peace that now so rarely filled his mind. She took the time to examine his perfect features. Delicate waves of black hair touched his eyelids and brushed at the short stubble along his jaw. The kahr was a very handsome man indeed, and seemed a world away from the hard-cut statue of granite she’d once regarded. Flawless silence filled the room about them, and she felt true contentment.
It wasn’t long before his clear, green eyes popped open and smiled warmly at her. She relished those few seconds before a world of concerns and problems deluged his thoughts. He beat them back, forced them into a corner of his consciousness; but they were still in there, frothing their negativity. “Good morning,” he said softly.
Artemi shifted and smiled back. "Hello."
“Come here.” He scooped her up and lifted her to the delightfully soft bed. Artemi was happy to curl in his arms for the moment. Once believing herself a self-sufficient woman, it was odd how dependent she had become upon his company; how much she needed it. Morghiad had been trying to push her back into self-reliance lately; sending her out to train or walk the countryside without him. Not that it was truly self-reliance when one was surrounded by guards. She knew that part of it was to occupy her while he held his secretive meetings, but she would rather have been either alone or with him. It had been a long time since she’d spent time on her own, or since she’d been able to bathe without informing someone about it. She felt she had been... tamed.
She dropped her eyes to the scar that trailed just below his left collar bone. A year had made its surface relatively smooth. Artemi ran her fingers along the darkened line. The wound had been tricky to clean, but she was rather proud of the job she’d done in fixing it. A dab of swift liquor had helped, too. Wisnden had been a muddy, rain-soaked and hot battle. And Artemi had relished every minute of it; feeling pure life flow through her with each strike of Blaze and every cut of her sword. It wasn’t that she enjoyed taking their lives, and thinking of that could have driven her insane; it was more that she was doing something with meaning. In battle she fought for her home country, for its people, her brothers and for Morghiad. Moreover, she knew she was good at it. The kahr started stroking her hair in the way he did, sometimes twisting it between his fingers. “What do you plan to do today?” he asked.
“I thought I might spend some time in the library.”
Morghiad stopped fiddling with her hair briefly. “You know the very ancient army records and city plans are kept there?”
Artemi laughed. He seemed to use any opportunity to educate her about running Cadra these days, and it wasn’t subtle at all. Of course she’d be happy to help him with the workload, but it led her to think he might marry her and make her his queen. Artemi would not allow herself to hope for anything like that. She would be perfectly happy as his steward when required. “I know what you are trying to do. Perhaps I will have a quick peek at them.”
“Good. Have a look at city folder thirty-four A.” The kahr stood from the bed and walked to the bath in the next room. “I have to meet with the council in the practice hall.”
That was his name for the men he trusted to rebuild Calidell’s government once Acher was gone. She disliked being excluded from it, and she disliked him keeping secrets from her. Artemi was coming close to losing patience over it. “Morghiad, I have never questioned why you keep these plans from me. And I’ve never doubted that you’re doing it for the right reasons...” She felt his river of emotions thicken with tension. He came to stand at the doorway as she spoke. “...but, if you need my help, I’d be better placed to offer it if I was better informed. Wouldn’t you agree?”
The kahr looked at the floor for a long, uncomfortable time. His mind was working hard. “I will tell you everything soon, you have my word. And I will need you.” He turned back to the bath to fill it from the giant brass taps.
Artemi felt just as frustrated as before. Insufferable man! In some ways he was still made of rocks! She threw her legs out of the bed and landed with a modicum of grace on the floor. Looking out of the nearest window, the sun had retreated behind a thick layer of heavy cloud. It was going to be a grey day. Even the sprinkling of yesterday’s snow had melted into a dark sludge on the dull stone. She felt her mood darken with it.
Morghiad slid his hands across her. His approach had been utterly silent. “I will upset a fair few people with what I am about to do, but it is for the best. I am sure of that.”
“Are you worried it will upset me?”
He paused briefly. “Yes.” The word came out almost as a croak.
Artemi turned to him. What in Achellon was he planning? “I see. Well, it is lucky you have such a pretty face for a man. Otherwise, your punishment for upsetting me would be much worse.”
He smiled thinly and kissed her forehead, before leading her to the bathing room. The bath was full of wisp-root scented soap, cut through with limegrass perfume. They climbed into the hot water together and began their somewhat lengthy ablutions.
The guards were waiting outside by the time she’d donned her green scarves. Her attire seemed such a normal part of the routine, though some of the soldiers would still tease her about it. Artemi hoped that would never stop. She needed to keep her feet firmly on the ground, and wearing small strips of cloth was not normal! Morghiad embraced her briefly before leaving for his meeting, cloak swishing behind him as he faded into the gloom of the hallways. Artemi was glad to see that Neleum was amongst her men today; he was a very sweet man with a naughty grin. Actually, if it weren’t for his very dark brown hair and eyes, he would be much like Silar. There were two other soldiers she recognised and two unfamiliar faces. They introduced themselves as Cydia and Laothoe. Eupith was conspicuously absent from the group, since a lieutenant normally accompanied her and it had been his turn. Neleum offered her a yellow snapdragon with a courteous “My queen,” and Artemi couldn’t help but smile at it. Two years ago she’d made the mistake of uttering that Morghiad wasn’t the sort of man to give a girl flowers. She hadn’t meant it as a jibe or complaint; he found plenty of other ways to lavish her. But it had become a joke among the men to provide her with a flower every time they guarded her, as if she hadn’t received enough by now! She slid the snapdragon into her hair. Wherever did they get these things at this time of year? “Let’s head to the library, boys.”
The walk wasn’t a long one, and soon they entered the vast archive of Calidell’s knowledge. Brown, tan and beige-backed books arched over the newcomers like great fingers of ancient, wrinkled leather. The stacks stretched over two levels in the vaulted chamber; with a thin brass rail guarding the upper gallery, and apparently preventing the tops stacks from collapsing to the floor below. Large fireplaces lined one side of the room, shedding their warmth upon the nearby flagstones. Metal gratings had been placed in front of these hearths to protect the books, but they gave the red flame-light a shuttered feel. The smell was musty and thick. Artemi imagined the vents weren’t often opened here. She wandered over to the records section. Green-backed folders lay in slightly disorganised piles around red files and a waterfall of grey ones fell from the third shelf; the whole section appeared to be undergoing reorganisation. She picked up one of the tattered grey files. It detailed army reconnaissance from the first millennium PD, nothing to do with city plans. Artemi flicked through the nearest green folder: it just seemed to contain lists and lists of names with their locations. Probably some ancient census data or intelligence. The red files held what she was looking for; layer upon layer of house plans and schematics. Artemi tried to make sense of the categorisation system. Thirty-four A... She could feel her guards looking at her with curiosity, but couldn’t explain what she was looking for until she read the contents.
Artemi located thirty-three A and thirty-four B, but no thirty-four A. Perhaps Morghiad had just meant to wind her up about it and the damn thing didn’t even exist. She hadn’t detected any mirth in him when he’d said it though. “Can anyone see a thirty-four A?” The men might as well have something to occupy them. The six of them trawled the racks for a while without success, even checking to see if it had been misplaced amongst the other folders. Artemi scanned the nearby tables. It wasn’t there either. She looked to her left; a diminutive man with long, pale hair stood at the end of the stacks. His light blue eyes spoke of millennia, truly the oldest eyes she’d ever seen; older than Koviere’s.
He bowed in her direction. That was odd; no one outside the army bowed to benay-gosa! Irritatingly, Neleum nodded with approval at the small man’s salutation. “Can I help, my Lady Artemi?” His voice sounded like old wood rasping on stones.
“Do you know where we might find thirty-four A of the red files?”
The man gave her a small but knowing smile. “I’m guessing kahr sent you looking for that. I keep it in my... special collection. If my lady and her attendants would follow me?”
The soldiers certainly wouldn’t appreciate being called that! She followed the old man through a shadowy labyrinth of shelving. “Might I know your name?” she enquired, almost tripping over a pile of giant leather-bound tomes.
“Dorlunh, my lady,” he said as he walked unfeasibly quickly.
They reached a small, enclosed cave of dusty books in which the man apparently lived. “Good lad, that kahr,” Dorlunh said as he dug through a pile of papers, “Keen eye for detail.”
Artemi heard Cydia blow through his moustaches behind her.
The old man pulled out the mysterious red file and handed it to her.
“Thank you, Dorlunh. May I take this to read in the main chamber?”
He nodded. “If my lady could bring it back to me once she is finished?”
“Of course.” The wielder worked her way through the stacks to a broad and well-worn oak table. Her guards spread themselves around the bay, looking relaxed in spite of their readiness. The file flopped open in front of Artemi. A collection of grey, broadsheet plans sat folded and layered on top of each other inside. There didn’t seem to be anything remarkable about them at first glance. Artemi opened the top sheet out across the desk. There was some notation across the top in old Calidellian, which she didn’t understand very well. One of the words was ‘tenshigha’ which Artemi recognised as ‘exit.’ The other words were a mystery. She whispered them aloud in the hope that the sound would elucidate their meaning: “Gorans te an’h tenshigha fullun n’awbroth.” A stomach-wrenching headache hit her with full force, causing her to hiss in surprise. Some of the men jumped as if she’d been hit by some unknown missile. “It’s just another blasted headache. I’ll be alright.” Images of men in odd purple uniforms flashed up before her, running with gritted teeth. There was a vast waterfall, taller even than the walls of Cadra. And then there were swathes of mud in heavy rain; they looked a bit like the plains outside the city. The pain was subsiding very slowly. These headaches always seemed to come with peculiar images she could not explain. They had been far less frightening than others she’d seen. In some of them it was almost as if she’d observed her own death. Dimly she felt Morghiad begin to relax. The poor man had to suffer through these attacks whenever she did. He was lower down in the castle, doing some sword practice. What sort of council meeting involved sword practice?
Artemi pushed the images aside. She had to focus on whatever this ridiculous pile of plans was supposed to reveal to her. The main drawing showed a circular structure within a square one. Along the edge of the square were cross sections of what Artemi supposed were walls. The thickest wall curved very gently on one side and the other ones seemed to be marked out for windows and doors. Sat squarely in the middle of the thickest
wall was an arrangement of machinery and levers, either side of a gate. It was a plan of the castle’s entrance courtyard, she realised, and it demonstrated how much broader the open area had once been. The circular structure within it was unknown to her, though. Perhaps it had never been built, or had since been removed. Artemi moved on to the next plan. It described an elevation view of the courtyard walls and floor. There appeared to be some sort of ramp descending from underneath the courtyard, and it led to a high-ceilinged tunnel. Upon opening the next plan Artemi realised exactly what she was looking at. A hidden escape tunnel. The entrance was now somewhere inside the buildings that lined the courtyard, but the exit must have been several miles into the plains. And it wasn’t a narrow tunnel, either; but wide enough to get several horses down, riding abreast. She replaced the plans in their folder and closed it. Perhaps it was time to locate this tunnel entrance.
Dorlunh took the file back with barely contained excitement. He appeared to appreciate having someone to share the secret with. Before long she was treading the halls with her personal guard again; out of the warm embrace of the library and into surroundings of cold, hard stone. She didn’t tell the men about the tunnel, and they were well-trained enough not to ask. For some reason Morghiad had striven to keep it secret and she did not want to be the one to break his security. The group reached the ground floor of the castle, heavily shaded at this time of day. “Could you check that the nearby halls are clear?” All men nodded and immediately took up their positions, eyes alert and ready. They knew she was about to wield. Artemi leapt into the flames, but was stopped short of embracing them.
Neleum had grabbed her by the arm. “The king approaches.”
The other men immediately circled around her once more and, still out of sight of the old king, she made as if to walk to the left corridor. They quickened their pace. The last thing she wanted was a conversation with that man leering at her and claiming that it did not matter whether he or Morghiad sired her children. She shuddered at the thought.
City of Blaze (The Fireblade Array) Page 39