by Julia Knight
The whole camp was in uproar, and once the four of them were free of any immediate threat the place was in too much turmoil to notice three horses and a pony galloping to keep up with a muttering Cospel on its back. Kass took no quarter and barged her beast over and through anyone in their way. Vocho’s horse recovered and managed to keep up, even if it had less bile when it came to any obstacles. Before long they were into areas where everyone had gone to see what the fuss was about or soldiers were preparing for who knew what, with guards at each tent row and stoical men putting on good working armour by fires while they talked among themselves.
Kass reined her horse into a walk and the rest followed suit. No temporary army this; Vocho saw among them men such as he was, or liked to think he was anyway, when he was working–professionals to a man. It showed the calculation behind their eyes as they weighed up a threat, a ready hand on a sword as the four of them rode past. At the centre of these soldiers, sending more shivers up Vocho’s spine to mingle with the pain there, stood two men so alike as to be twins. Matching marks on their cheeks and eyes that glittered cold and deadly, mouths that brooked no mercy and heavy palla swords. Maybe only Vocho noticed how Kass tightened, and that was only because Vocho felt pretty tight around the bravery bone himself right then. Professional men and women, Vocho thought again. Not starting a fight unless necessary, unless ordered to, but ready, always. Doing as they were told.
Like him. Hadn’t he always done that? Done the jobs he was told to, not noticed other things, other causes that he might have helped? He followed Kass away from the uproar, away from less professional soldiers who also did as they were told but were bad at it. Cold eyes watched them go, and Vocho wondered just how much he was like them or how much he would give not to look like that, like clockwork mannequins come to life for the one and only purpose of killing.
He couldn’t see that it had got him very far as yet, except into more trouble than he ever wanted, so perhaps it was time, as Kass said, to do things because they were the right thing to do.
Chapter Seventeen
Alicia glowered at the quivering man who’d drawn the short straw and had to report to her, but like much else the glower was false.
“They disappeared, milady. An army is a fine place for a few soldiers to hide. We’ll keep looking but I don’t hold out much hope.”
She waved a blood-streaked arm at him and he left, looking grateful that he was still alive.
Vocho and Kacha turning up just then had been a fortuitous happenstance, and she wasn’t going to waste it. And Dom… A faint thrill at that. All right, more than faint. Years she’d been searching for him. Years. All that messing about with Kacha and Vocho, hoping he’d turn up to help them had paid off. Now she’d found him, and for a moment there she’d almost had him, had what all this was about. Would have done if not for that annoying Vocho. Still, he was close and wouldn’t get far, not if she had anything to do with it. She had unfinished business with the Domenech, but Esti was going to help her there, with the three of them if she could. And if not, well, one more thing for Eneko to deal with.
Ah yes. Eneko. With Sabates dead, Alicia felt free of every constraint from the last twenty years. He’d always held her back from what she wanted, counselled patience, patience. And she’d been patient, but Dom turning up and Eneko plotting with Sabates… too much to resist. The time for patience was gone. Now was the time to get what she wanted. Besides, she had all this blood going spare.
It was the work of moments to lay out a circle of blood on the table, to fine-tune it to where she wanted–Eneko’s rooms. And there he was, busy over some poor bastard in that chair. Not so busy he didn’t respond to the circle. It was still working well enough, so she suspected he’d been topping up the blood, probably by way of whoever was the focus of his attentions with the knife in his hand.
“Alicia,” he said warily and put down the knife. “Where’s Sabates? He said he’d contact—”
“He’s not going to be contacting anyone now or ever. Now you have me to deal with.” She let that sink in, amused as he tried his utmost to hide his feelings at the news. Tried and failed. She’d spent a lifetime studying people in order to manipulate them all the better, and he couldn’t fool her. “Come closer and take a good look, Eneko. See if you don’t know me.”
A frown at that. “Of course I know you; you’re Sabates’ assistant.”
She let herself smile at that dismissive thought. “Was, Eneko. Was. And not just his assistant. Oh, I am so much more than an assistant. I was his student; I am now his better, his successor, his killer. Look closely. Think back. Remember letters you received and ignored or were dismissive of, laughed at. A desperate woman you turned away from your gates rather than admit any wrongdoing, and not just once. Think back to when you were younger and ruined a young girl’s life with a word. Ever since you’ve refused to even see her, to respond to her pleas, to make amends, to say just one word that might help her. One word is all I asked, and you wouldn’t give me even that. Think back and who do you see?”
His lip curled up into a sneer, but there was a tremor there, a sudden twitch of the eyes. She had the bastard rattled. Good. Everything, everything, had been for this.
“Could be anyone,” he said with an attempt at nonchalance that didn’t fool her for a second. “You think I recall every man or woman I cross?”
“A tall order perhaps, there have been so many. Well then, do you recall a certain young man, a favourite of yours once, by the ridiculous name of Narcis Jokin Donat Chimo Ne Farina es Domenech?”
The flinch wasn’t slight this time; his whole body jerked with it. That he remembered Dom and not her…
“Cee?” Eneko said after a pause.
“Indeed, good of you to recall. Cee, or Alicia, or any number of variations on the theme that I’ve used over the years. I suspect you can now guess the reason for me contacting you?”
She was expecting any number of things–denial, contrition, argument. Not laughter.
“You expect me to tell you? Now? Sabates is dead, and my only, and very tenuous, loyalty was to him, not some sugar-brained girl who, if I recall, did nothing but cry. Jokin broke the rules and he knew it–knew the consequences. I owe you nothing. And that’s what you’ll get. Take it out on Jokin if you must.”
“Oh I intend to. But on you as well. Tell me, and I won’t bring down Reyes and your beloved guild. Maybe I’ll even let you live.”
This laugh was more genuine. “Oh, my dear.” Maybe she’d let him live long enough to regret that choice of words. Maybe not. “Oh, you killed Sabates, and you have no idea what that means for me. He gave me what I needed, because it suited him. The downfall of the guild or Reyes wasn’t his aim, only the death of Bakar in this phoney war, in which I supported him for my own purposes. In return he gave me a little trifle. A clockwork heart with a little magical something extra. I don’t suppose he cared what I intended to do with it as long as Bakar died. But have no doubt, my dear, with it and with the combined talents of the clockers of Reyes, I can beat off even a host of magicians such as yourself. And when I rule Reyes and Ikaras is beaten, you can still sing for what you want because even if I wanted to, I can’t tell you what I no longer know, if I ever did. But I can take the opportunity you just gave me, for which I thank you most profusely.”
The last thing she saw was his hand sweeping across the circle, disturbing the blood and severing the connection. Her own hand dashed blood from the table, splattering it across the walls of the tent. She calmed herself. No point getting angry. Had she ever really thought he’d just tell her? No, it would take the direst threat he could imagine before he gave in, she’d always suspected that. The destruction of his precious guild, his beloved city. She drummed her fingers in what was left of the blood. Now she was glad that she’d let Vocho and Kacha live. They would certainly want their own reckoning with Eneko, and that would give him another threat to be wary of. A distraction perhaps, if she could finagle it. And the
re were ways…
She gathered what was left of the blood of Sabates, using it to bolster her will, and wiped her hands as people began to file into the tent. Gerlar entered, blank-faced and seemingly implacable, though she knew what it was he craved, knew he stayed only because she’d promised to give it to him when all this was done. But a shiver ran down her back at the thought–if she didn’t, or couldn’t, fulfil her promise of a new life-warrior partner for him, made from the scrap of dried blood his old one had left behind on the armour Gerlar had carefully kept… if she couldn’t, he would kill her, she was sure of it. Life-warriors swore to protect their ruler from anyone, and that had included magicians in the not-so-distant past.
Orgull on the other hand was as easy as the pliable Licio, who was panicked and lost at the thought of being without Sabates–all that influence the departed magician had put on him gone, leaving him floundering in a current not of his own making. Leaving him susceptible to any new influence she might contrive, which was all she needed. Licio was pale and trembling, partly the after-effects of Sabates’s disappearing magic and partly because, bar a few guildsmen and some of the king’s own guards who even now were being dealt with, he was on his own. Alicia shared a look with Orgull.
“Who did it?” Licio whispered. It was all he’d said since he’d heard.
“Guildsmen, your highness,” Alicia said in her most gracious voice. “I saw three of them in the camp, but they’ve escaped. No matter, we know who. And possibly who for.”
“Guildsmen,” Licio repeated in a faint voice. “Eneko?”
“Possibly, though the guildsmen we saw are, ahem, not in Eneko’s favour at present. Perhaps they’re trying to regain it.”
The young king looked up at her with red-rimmed eyes that seemed to stare through her as though she were a ghost. “Who?”
“Vocho and Kacha. And that other fellow, Dom.”
“Vocho and…” Licio’s head wobbled as though his neck was suddenly too frail to support it. “No, not for Eneko. For themselves. Revenge? Or so that tattoo will no longer have power over him? How did Sabates not know he was close?”
Alicia hid behind her fan, fluttering it against the warmth of the rising sun. “I think he was distracted, your highness.” That was the truth at least, or part of it.
“But how could he…” Licio blinked hard, rubbed a hand at one eye and sat up straight, looking like a small child resolving to be good if that’s what it takes to get sweets. “No matter. He’s gone. The question remains, now what?”
Orgull smiled and spread his hands. “Everything is still in place. We still have an army and the redoubtable Alicia to provide what magical assistance we might need. We still require all speed, in order to get to Reyes before Eneko can rise against the prelate. What now is, we carry on.”
A short silence followed as his words sank into Licio’s shocked brain before he nodded slowly. “Yes. Yes, you’re right. Is everything ready?”
“As Sabates ordered it,” Alicia said.
Licio gripped the arm of his chair and found some resolve. “Well then, perhaps a fitting send-off for our friend and then we leave with all haste. Alicia, are there riders still looking for these guildsmen?”
“Naturally.” Not very hard, mind you, but the Ikaran guards who served the magicians were looking. Her plans for Kacha and Vocho had changed since Gerlar had performed so well against them on the road, since Esti had told her all about the antidote she’d sent with them and Dom had turned up. Now she rather thought she wanted them to get to Reyes, though that would take some explaining. Orgull’s life-warriors, on the other hand, might well be looking for them very hard indeed–he wasn’t stupid for all he looked like the butt end of a donkey. They might well be a handy failsafe in negotiations with Bakar should this assault fail, and Orgull was a safety-minded man.
“Good,” Licio said. “Send for a fast rider, one of my men to take a message to Reyes.”
Another glance passed between Alicia and Orgull. Licio had no men here, not now. The uproar last night had been good for covering up more than one misdeed. Alicia hesitated and then wondered if Licio would recognise any of his men anyway. Possibly not, not all of them anyway.
“Certainly.”
“Good, see to it. Now what’s the best way to send off a magician?”
Alicia gritted her teeth at his tone, like she was some maid to order about. But he had a point. No matter how she’d loathed Sabates, used him for her own ends until it suited her to get rid of him, he would be expected to have a fine send-off. She had her owns reasons for her suggestion as well.
“Fire, my lord.”
“Really? That doesn’t seem very… fitting.”
“Oh, most fitting,” Orgull said. “Only the very noblest Ikarans get that honour; burial is for peasants.” Alicia noticed Licio wince–his family had their own cemetery–but he said nothing as Orgull carried on. “As head of the magicians in the university, he had that right. Besides, much quicker than burial, especially here. Not much soil, and with all these woods so near we can make the finest pyre a magician has ever known. It’s also Ikaran tradition. Before a battle we make a sacrifice, which we then burn.”
Besides which, they could make sure the bastard was good and dead.
“A sacrifice to who?” Licio asked, seemingly quite recovered from his shock. Such a fickle youth. She sometimes looked at him and thought of another who’d be about the same age, wondered whether they were fickle, or shallow, or any of the things so disappointing about Licio. But then she’d see Licio’s naïveté, his trusting nature, and wonder whether she was the problem for thinking these weaknesses. Whether that other would hate her for what she’d done when it was all she could have done.
“I thought you didn’t worship any gods,” Licio said.
“We don’t. Worship them, that is, or think of them as gods as such. Merely people of different powers, like magicians yet more remote. Sometimes we ask, as one equal to another. We offer a favour for a favour. So, a sacrifice. Cows, sugar, maize. But a magician will do well enough. Even if he is already dead. I find they don’t care one way or the other very much.”
A nod from Orgull, and servants scurried off to do his bidding.
Alicia turned to go while Licio was occupied, but stopped dead at his next question to Orgull. “If Sabates was head of the university magicians, who is now?”
She held her breath and caught Orgull’s eye as she turned to see what he’d answer.
He turned away with an arrogant shrug. “Traditionally, there’s a contest to help the dean of the university make his choice. He’s not a magician, but he holds the power to grant or rescind university titles. However, for practical purposes there are only two worthy of consideration. One is the resourceful Alicia here, who is, or will be in time, as powerful as Sabates ever was, albeit in slightly different ways. The other is named Esti. A very unusual woman, and a very unusual mage. I think I can safely say that Alicia will win that battle.”
Alicia smiled behind her fan. Truly Esti was very unusual but would be no threat to her at all. In her head Alicia sneered at how easy it was to manipulate her–anyone who cared about other people. She’d been like that once, had let herself be influenced by her care for others. But not any more. Now there was only one who she would die to protect. She just needed to find her first, and Eneko was going to tell Alicia where she was if he wanted his precious guild and city safe.
Chapter Eighteen
Kass kicked her horse on and tried to put as much distance between them and the roused army as she could. Sounds echoed around the little plateau behind them as they rode headlong into a steep gorge, risking the horses’ legs and their own necks in the dark. They’d be followed and quickly, and not by one man as before. Their only hope lay in the dark and that the pass before them wasn’t a single track but many winding among the shattered peaks.
Her horse stumbled, and she let it slacken its pace till they were trotting–still too dangerous, but no
t half as much as what came behind. But they couldn’t keep up even this for long. The horses had been tired from the day’s travel already, and those that followed had fresh horses.
A glance behind told her that Vocho’s horse was struggling–sweat frothed on its neck in the faint moonlight, saliva at the bit. Vocho didn’t look much better himself, holding on to the pommel of his saddle like that was all that was keeping him upright. Cospel’s pony coped better with the terrain than the horses, but it wasn’t built for speed. Dom’s horse kept up effortlessly, as graceful and surprising as he was, but Dom himself was swaying in the saddle, and for a moment she thought he’d taken a wound she hadn’t seen.
They had to stop–and couldn’t stop. They’d killed Sabates, Alicia had said. Licio would send everything he had against them for that, even if it wasn’t true. Small consolation that the magician was dead when another looked to have taken his place and his death had unleashed half of Ikaras against them. They had to stop but couldn’t. Not here.
They reached the top of the defile and, once over the lip where they stood out against the sky, she pulled her horse up. The plateau behind them was like a pack of dogs fighting over a bone, lights moving this way and that. A spur of lights headed their way, and she didn’t doubt there’d be others in front, scouts and warriors used to working in the dark. Once she’d not have worried, would have thought herself the most dangerous person on the mountain. Now she knew better. Eneko, damn his soul, had spoken a lot of truth in among his lies, and one truth had been No matter how good you are, there is always someone better. Those life-warriors gave her the shivers.
She’d heard of them before, but to see them properly, not just a dishonoured one who she’d only glimpsed, was something else. She and Voch fought together well enough, knew each other’s moves for the most part, could guess what the other would do before they did it, but these were inhuman. Mindless almost, though they looked like men. And the one who’d followed them had caught them unawares in the woods and almost beaten the pair of them even on his own. They needed to be careful. More than careful.