Heroes' Reward

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Heroes' Reward Page 19

by Moira J. Moore


  I was so wrapped in panic, it took me a while to realise we weren’t being dragged back to the Emperor’s tent. Instead, Mazin and Postel took us straight north, past all of the soldiers who were lingering by their fires because they were too emotional to sleep. I imagined a lot of them were terrified, but possibly some of there were looking forward to the clash. They might be thinking of the whole thing as a grand adventure.

  Because there were a whole lot of idiots in the world.

  And then we were clear of everyone and I realised Mazin and Postel really were taking us to the Triple S forces.

  I began to breathe a little more easily.

  “Anything goes wrong with this,” Mazin muttered, “and we’ll kill you both, no matter what comes after.”

  And then, as if Mazin words had called them, two men came into sight. Both Guards, bearing torches. Sentries.

  Fabulous. Here was where things were going to go horribly sideways.

  “Where are you taking a Pair?” one demanded.

  After a horrible, obvious pause, Mazin said, “She’s a caster. She needs practise.”

  “Because of the attack tomorrow,” Postel added.

  Clearly, these two had never worked the stage, going by the wooden delivery of their words. I had the feeling the sentry was only humouring them when he said, “She doesn’t need to do it way out here.”

  Another pause.

  “Emperor’s orders,” said Mazin.

  This was painful.

  I suspected the sentry didn’t believe that for a moment. “The Emperor has ordered four people to station themselves out of sight of everyone else,” he said flatly. “When traiters are deserting every night.”

  “Not my place to question the Emperor’s orders,” Mazin retorted. “Yours neither.”

  “Sure,” the sentry drawled. “How about we all go back and ask him? Just to be certain?”

  “Hell,” said Mazin. Faster than I would have thought him able, he pulled out his sword and shoved it through the first man’s throat. The second sentry swore and shoved his own sword at Mazin, slicing Mazin’s right arm. Postel, inspired by his partner, took advantage of the second sentry’s brief exchange with Mazin by slitting his throat.

  I stared, speechless, as the two men dropped and fell, spurting blood and emitting horrible choking sounds.

  Obviously anyone who defected to the other side was going to have to clash with people they might have known earlier. Maybe someone they’d eaten with, shared a tent with. Maybe even laughed with. But for Mazin to do it so abruptly, it was just …. Mazin had shown no hesitation, Postel no shock.

  What kind of people were they?

  Postel grabbed my arm, in the exact same place he always did. “Move.”

  We circled wide to the north of Cracked Plains, probably to avoid any residents who might be guarding the settlement. Did the residents know Gifford’s plans? Were they even there at all? Maybe they’d destroyed their city as so many others had.

  Mazin then led us west, and finally back down south, where the Triple S caravan was reported to have settled. I couldn’t estimate how long the walk had taken, but it felt like a good while.

  I wondered how it would go, meeting the Triple S’s sentries. Most people knew Taro’s name and might have a sort of vague description of his appearance, but that didn’t mean everyone would recognize him on sight. And even if they did, the Triple S had had no word from us since we’d left Shidonee’s Gap. They might assume we had betrayed them.

  Gods, I hated this mess.

  In the distance, we saw four torches.

  “You’ll be talking, Karish,” Mazin ordered. “You don’t say the right thing, this one gets her throat cut and you both die. We can take those four if we have to. Everyone knows the Triple S fighters are useless.”

  I wondered if anyone drilling Gifford’s soldiers had needed to read the manoeuvres out of a book.

  “Ho!” Mazin called out. “This is Source Karish! We helped him escape!”

  The torches moved a lot faster.

  I blew out a hard breath. Please let them believe us.

  The Triple S sentries wore armour identical to what Gifford’s soldiers wore, except it was black. Everything they wore was black, armour, gloves and boots, fabric. The uniforms would certainly stand out against Gifford’s shiny armour and bright colours.

  “Karish, eh?” one of the sentries demanded.

  That was Taro’s cue.

  “Thank gods,” he breathed, sounding relieved. “Yes. This is Shield Dunleavy Mallorough, Third Sergeant Postel, Third Sergeant Mazin. This was our first real chance to get away.”

  Three of the sentries looked suspicious. The other’s expression had gone blank.

  Taro didn’t hesitate. “Do you know Gifford plans to attack first thing in the morning?”

  The sentry who had spoken before crossed his arms. “Yes.”

  “Do you know casts don’t work here?” I asked quickly.

  The sentry looked puzzled. “What?”

  “Casts don’t work everywhere,” I informed him. “They don’t work here. I tried. Everyone knows you don’t have nearly as many soldiers as the Emperor does. You’re hoping your casters and Pairs will even things out.”

  The same sentry, apparently the spokesperson of the group, drawled, “And we’re just supposed to believe you, is that it?”

  “Of course not. Go ask one of your own.” Er, should have said our own.

  “Fine. You two, hand over your swords.”

  “No,” said Mazin.

  “You want to get into it now? Four against two? Four with whistles that will call a whole lot of other people to us?”

  They weren’t quite as stupid as I’d thought. Mazin handed over his sword and then his knife. After a few moments, Postel followed suit.

  A chunk of panic fell right out of me, as unexpectedly as a row of ice falling off the eaves trough. Warmth flooded through my limbs and I could breathe a little more easily.

  Someone would vouch for us. It would be all right.

  No, no, it wouldn’t be all right, but at least we would be on the right side.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Despite all of the reports I’d heard while standing beside Gifford, I had been hoping to see more soldiers in the Triple S camp. After all, so many of Gifford’s people were defecting. Weren’t most of them going to the Triple S?

  Everyone seemed to be wearing black uniforms. Some were less elaborate than the sentries, others more. On the whole, their uniforms were in much better shape than those worn by many of Gifford’s people.

  From what I had witnessed with Gifford’s forces, even those who had uniforms didn’t wear them all the time. While not on duty, or while engaging in tasks that would turn their uniforms into a mess, they wore whatever regular clothing they had brought with them, transferring their frogging to make sure everyone knew who were the ones who gave the orders. Did the Triple S people not do the same?

  Of course, if they knew Gifford’s army was just on the other side of Cracked Plains, they might have been expecting a clash at any moment and wanted to make sure they were prepared for it.

  Our sentries took us directly to another small team of sentries. We didn’t know any of them, either. “These people claim to be Karish and Mallorough. And their … friends.”

  One of the sentries – she appeared to be around thirteen years old, and I desperately hoped she was much older than she looked – crossed her arms. “The Erstwhile Pair? Hung around the Emperor all that time with no word to the council?”

  I would have expected that information to have been kept within the council. Had it leaked out, or had everyone just been told? If it were the latter, that was bad. Right?

  “We don’t have time for that,” one of our sentries snapped. “Mallorough says casts don’t work here. We need that confirmed. Get someone who can do that. Murdoch. Or Browne. Tell the Commissioner, too.”

  “Browne?” I was surprised into asking. “H
ealer Nab Browne? She’s here?”

  The sentry ignored my questions. He nodded at the girl. “Go.”

  The girl who looked too young to be there trotted away.

  As we waited, others wandered close, staring at us. No one spoke, but when they drew near enough I could see that they weren’t as gaunt as many of Gifford’s people. No one was carrying any spare flesh, but at least they weren’t disturbing to look at.

  Did the fewer numbers mean it was much easier to take care of everyone? Would that provide a real advantage over larger but starving numbers?

  Then I was shocked down to my toes to see some of Fiona’s whalers among the group. Dressed in black. Clearly part of the Triple S forces.

  Fiona had sent people to support the Triple S? Not only the best healer and caster she had, but some of her most valuable tenants as well? How could she afford to do that? Didn’t her other tenants resent losing such important members of the community to the dangerous efforts of the Triple S?

  That question would keep: Browne was the first to arrive. I almost hugged her.

  She was wearing the uniform, too. The healers among Gifford’s people had never worn uniforms. It made Browne appear a little intimidating. That was part of the purpose of a uniform, but it felt melodramatic.

  She grinned. “Shield Mallorough, Source Karish, it is a relief to see you.”

  The soldiers around us relaxed at having our identities verified.

  “You, too,” I said.

  She eyed me and then Taro. “You’re thinner than I like. We have to get you something to eat.”

  “Not yet,” said our most talkative sentry. “I expect the Commissioner will give us some orders about what to do with them.”

  But the Commissioner didn’t. Instead, the man himself arrived, and more quickly than I would have anticipated. He wasn’t hurrying, his gait long and smooth. Though I’d never actually met him, I’d seen him about the Arena in Shidonee’s Gap, and he had always seemed calm. I liked calm. It was handy.

  “I’m honoured to finally meet you.” He held out his hand. “Source Karish. Shield Mallorough.”

  He had a lovely deep voice.

  Taro and I shook his hand and murmured our pleasure in meeting him. It was surreal, such stiff courtesy in the middle of this mess.

  The Commissioner looked at Mazin and Postel. “And who are your companions?”

  “Third Sergeant Postel and Third Sergeant Mazin,” said Taro. “They decided to change their loyalty to the Triple S and helped us escape.”

  Too bad we couldn’t speak directly into the Commissioner’s brain and warn him that these two weren’t to be trusted.

  The Commissioner nodded, gesturing at some of the sentries around us. “Fine. Slean, Dyva, Yoj, Wells, take these two to Lieutenant Vimi. She’ll vet them.”

  Good. Four sentries for two unarmed men. No speaking directly into the Commissioner’s mind was necessary.

  “We’re going with them,” Mazin objected, pointing at Taro.

  The Commissioner responded in a bland voice. “Surely men of your quality understand there is information only you can provide and information only a Pair can provide. If we question you independently, we can gather all of the facts we need much more quickly.”

  Mazin looked suspicious and mulish but he probably didn’t want to dispute the assumption that he was a man of quality and intelligence.

  The Commissioner gestured at Mazin’s bloody sleeve. “You’re going to want to have a healer see to that.”

  After a moment, Mazin nodded reluctantly.

  “This way, then,” said one of the sentries.

  Both Mazin and Postel sent us warning glances before following the sentries away.

  As soon as they were out of earshot, Taro said to the Commissioner, “They were guarding us for Gifford. If they have any new loyalty to the Triple S, it’s only because I promised them they’d get land and riches if they helped us escape.”

  The Commissioner’s eyebrows rose. “And you believe you can make such promises on behalf of the Triple S?”

  “Of course not. I was just saying whatever I had to, to get us out of there.”

  “Ah.”

  We were taken to a large tent, tall enough to stand in, wide enough to accommodate a table and about half a dozen people. Of course, there were more than half a dozen there.

  Murdoch was standing near the back of the tent, and he greeted me with a smile. I was surprised to see the Premier Pair, Sato and Zoffany, there as well. I hadn’t expected them to leave Shidonee’s Gap. The three others in the tent I couldn’t recall ever seeing before.

  There was a large map on the table, displaying the entire continent.

  “This is Deputy Commissioner Khouri,” said the Commissioner, gesturing at one of the strangers. “Assistant Commissioner Perovic, and Assistant Commissioner Barhom.”

  I wasn’t familiar with the latter ranks.

  “We’ve been informed you believe casts don’t work here,” the Commissioner said to me.

  “Aye.”

  “Healer Browne?”

  “I haven’t had a chance to try it yet, Commissioner.” Browne opened her bag. “But I have no doubt Shield Mallorough’s assessment is accurate.”

  It was nice to have someone express unequivocal belief in my words. It had been a long time.

  “There is no harm in performing your own test.”

  It was good that the Commissioner was cautious. Really. Even if it was a little insulting.

  “Shield Mallorough, what cast did you attempt?” Browne asked.

  “I first tried the communication cast. When that didn’t work, I used the flame cast. The basic one.”

  Browne looked surprised for a moment, then shrugged. I watched her combine gray ash, ground white stone, and ground quartz. “Flare,” she ordered.

  Nothing happened. It was almost a relief. At least it meant there wasn’t something wrong with me.

  Browne threw together another quick cast and that didn’t work, either. My faint relief evaporated as it became clear to everyone that our most powerful caster was useless. As a caster and possibly, to an extent, as a healer, as she frequently used casts in her work.

  Browne was clearly astonished. I had no doubt she’d believed me. She just hadn’t really expected to fail, having the talent that she did.

  “They’re using human ashes,” I announced bluntly. “Would that enable them to cast here even though we can’t?”

  Browne’s eyes widened with shock, and then narrowed in disgust. “Did you – ?”

  “Gods’ no!” I would never use human ashes, no matter what the circumstances. The practice was reprehensible. “They didn’t even tell me they had them. Taro and I discovered them in Gifford’s office and we mixed them with some wood ashes and ink. I have no idea whether that will counteract the effects, though. Do you?”

  “No. None.”

  Damn it, Browne was supposed to know everything. “I think that was one of the reasons why they were killing so many titleholders. To get their ashes.”

  Khouri gasped, appearing horrified. Everyone looked appalled.

  The Commissioner sharply shook his head. “Right,” he said. “Premier Source, Premier Shield, I recommend we get everyone moving, pull back to Slick Side.”

  I wondered if the Commissioner was really making a recommendation or giving a polite order. I had been told back in Shidonee’s Gap that he had been put in charge of the Triple S forces, but did that mean he was in charge of the Premier Pair as well? I didn’t care for that possibility. It felt wrong.

  The Commissioner looked at Murdoch. “Your casters were able to function there, yes?”

  Murdoch was directing the casters, not Browne?

  Murdoch nodded. “We were able to practise there.”

  Sato cleared his throat to draw everyone’s attention. “We really need to speak with Karish and Mallorough. It’s urgent that we learn of the abilities of the Pairs working for the Emperor.”

&nbs
p; “With respect,” said the Commissioner, “that needs to wait until we get to Slick Side. If we let Gifford engage us here, we’ll be slaughtered.”

  Did he have to use that particular word? The images it put in my head …. I’d rather he just say killed. It seemed cleaner and faster.

  “If they follow their usual behaviour, they’ll ransack Cracked Plains,” said Sato. “We can use that time to learn what we can from Karish and Mallorough.”

  “Or they might decide to engage us immediately,” the Commissioner countered.

  “In the middle of the night?”

  “Gifford has been increasingly unpredictable. He has scores more soldiers than we do. We can’t afford a clash if we don’t have casters to balance the numbers.”

  That seemed a lot of responsibility to be putting on the casters.

  “So we run, and they chase us.” Sato was letting his annoyance show. “Will it be nothing more than a test of who can run the farthest and the fastest?”

  The Commissioner dragged the tip of his finger along the map, between our location and Cracked Plains. “Your Pairs can create some kind of barrier there, can’t they? A ravine or some such?”

  Sato looked at Taro.

  “Yes, sir,” Taro said promptly.

  “How wide?” the Commissioner asked.

  “Unfortunately, only as far as we can see.”

  And it was still dark.

  “How long?”

  “Again, only as far as we can see.”

  “Gifford’s Pairs can stop you, can’t they?” Sato pointed out.

  “No one can stop me,” Taro answered. “But I can’t speak for the other Triple S Pairs. I don’t know what kind of progress they’ve made while I was in Erstwhile.”

  “And Gifford’s Pairs will have the easier task,” said Sato. “They don’t need to see you to fight you.”

  “We have more Pairs,” the Commissioner reminded him.

  “I don’t like the idea of having our people left behind,” Sato responded curtly.

  “They won’t be alone. Soldiers will be escorting them. And they’ll have horses. They’ll be able to leave quickly, if they have to.”

  “The horses will probably spook,” said Taro. “Some of them get uneasy with regular channelling. Something as big as creating a ravine, I can’t imagine them standing for it.”

 

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