by Anna Kashina
The fallen attacker was slowly coming to, pale eyes dazedly watching the people leaning over him. A gash on his left temple oozed over his closely shaved scalp. But these details swept by as Kyth’s eyes fixed on the man’s left shoulder, bared by his ripped shirt.
A black brand mark, a triangle with elongated corners, marred the man’s skin. The shape resembled an arrowhead pointing to the ground. It also looked vaguely like a head, with a pointed beard and long, protruding horns.
The sign of Ghaz Kadan.
Kyth’s eyes widened. Did his attackers worship the Cursed Destroyer?
He suddenly remembered what he knew about the Kaddim. An ancient brotherhood, rumored to play a key part in the fall of the Old Empire. As far as he remembered, the Kaddim cult had been outlawed centuries ago, all its followers hunted down by the Church.
Maybe he remembered wrongly?
We’ll meet again, Highness. Kyth shivered. Who were these men? What did they want with him?
2
BAD NEWS
“What the hell were you doing in that courtyard?” King Evan demanded.
Kyth hesitated, glancing at the two Keepers standing beside the throne. The pristine white of their cloaks made a stark contrast with the black outfits of the King’s bodyguards, a Pentade of five gem-ranked Majat forming a semicircle around the King.
“You’re busy, father,” he said. “I didn’t mean to hold you up.”
He wasn’t about to discuss his gift in front of strangers, even if Mother Keeper and her right-hand man, Magister Egey Bashi, already knew of its existence. His eyes flicked to the table by the King’s side, holding three pieces of parchment and a throwing star set with a huge diamond in its center. The token symbolizing the Diamond Majat’s contract. But why?
The king pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked as if he hadn’t had enough sleep. The weary look he exchanged with the Keepers told Kyth that this meeting had been going on too long and couldn’t possibly have been a pleasant one.
“Just tell me more about these men, son,” the King said.
“Their leader called himself Kaddim. He…” Kyth paused as he noticed his father’s widening eyes and the frown Mother Keeper exchanged with her subordinate.
“Kaddim?” the King echoed. “Impossible.”
“Anything’s possible, Your Majesty,” Mother Keeper said.
“But here? Now? After nearly five hundred years?”
The older woman nodded. “Unlikely, I agree. Yet, Prince Kythar’s description of this man’s power–”
“What about it?”
The older woman frowned, her full lips twitching at the corners to set her mouth into a straight line. The stern look in her eyes reminded Kyth that this frail-looking woman commanded a power that rivaled that of the Church and extended a huge influence over the kingdom. “Kaddim brothers possessed what used to be called ‘power to defeat’. It seems possible, Your Majesty, that the power Prince Kythar described could be of a similar nature.”
“For some reason,” Kyth said, “this power failed to affect me. This man – Tolos – seemed to expect it.”
“He did, did he?” Magister Egey Bashi’s deep voice reverberated through the chamber with a startling force. The man’s piercing dark eyes bore into Kyth, the disfiguring scar across his bear-like face making him look frightening. “Did he also expect Your Highness to give up without a fight? Or did he think playing with orbens – and possibly injuring or killing you – was a good way to make you more agreeable?”
They didn’t care about injuring me. Kyth swallowed. “I’m lucky Kara was able to resist them.” And that she showed up when she did. Against reason, the thought filled him with warmth. Kara clearly made the effort to come early, despite her numerous duties. Did it mean that she actually cared? Don’t be a fool, it’s not like she is available. Her life belongs to her guild. He swallowed again, catching his father’s intent gaze.
“What about the prisoner you took?” the King asked. “Did he have any unnatural powers too?”
Kyth shook his head. “As far as I could tell, only the weapon.”
“Orben?”
“Yes.”
“As I recall,” the King said, “these weapons were outlawed around the same time as the Kaddim.”
“Which makes these men fit the description even better, Your Majesty,” Mother Keeper said.
“Almost too well.”
The older woman raised her eyebrows.
“They surely made a point of letting us know their leader’s name and title,” the King went on. “Is it possible that somebody is eager to mislead us into believing the Kaddim are still around?”
“To what end, Your Majesty?”
The king shrugged. “Only one way to find out.”
The prisoner. Kyth shivered. Kara took charge of overseeing the care and confinement of the prisoner until arrangements could be made for a formal interrogation. Kyth, Alder, and Ellah were supposed to attend, in case their presence brought up any additional memories. Kyth wasn’t looking forward to it.
Mother Keeper bowed. “With your permission, Your Majesty, the Magister and I would like to be present at the interrogation.”
“I would be obliged, Mother Keeper,” the King said. “No one knows as much as you and the Magister about the Kaddim. Aghat Mai will accompany you. I’m placing him in charge. His methods can be very effective, or so I’ve heard.”
He signaled to the Diamond-ranked leader of his Majat Pentade. The man bowed and stood to attention. Kyth looked at him in wonder.
It was hard to imagine anyone who looked less appropriate than Mai for his high post of the leader of the Pentade. A slender youth with soft blond curls and a face of an almost sexless beauty, he seemed far too young to be in charge and much more fit to hold a lyre than a sword. Yet, a ruthless glint in his tranquil blue eyes – and the deadly rumors that spawned around him like dust around a tornado – warned Kyth not to underestimate this dangerous man.
“I’ll walk with you, Aghat,” he said. “Alder and Ellah are waiting by the dungeon.”
“In a moment.” The king gestured for Kyth to stay, waiting for the door to close behind the Keepers and Mai. “Now. Is there anything else you can tell me about the attack, son?”
Kyth glanced at the four Ruby Majat standing still beside the throne.
“I’ve been to this courtyard several times before,” he said. “The attackers must have been watching me for days – they knew exactly when and where to catch me unprotected.”
The king shook his head. “I don’t like this at all. After we’re done with the questioning, I will ask Aghat Mai to oversee the security of the grounds. It appears the Kingsguards aren’t really up to the task. And you – you should be more careful, Kyth. It is fortunate Kara arrived when she did.”
Kyth nodded. “She was able to overcome their power. Quite possibly, this resistance, along with her Majat skill, makes her the only warrior able to protect us. Isn’t that reason enough to keep her at court?” His gaze faltered as he saw his father’s pursed lips.
“She can’t stay,” the King said.
Kyth’s heart fell. He knew his father disapproved of his affection for a hired guard, but Kara’s unique value was more important, wasn’t it?
“Is it the gold?” he asked. “I know her services cost a fortune, but–”
“Not quite.” The king gestured toward the parchment on the table next to the Majat token. “This letter from the Majat Guild came today. Her assignment here is over, and they want her to return as soon as possible. While I believe that eventually this could be resolved by money, for now we have no choice but to send her back.”
Kyth stared at the letter, fighting the sinking feeling in his stomach. The Majat obeyed no one except the Code of their Guild. This arrangement made them invaluable as mercenaries, loyal to their contract until it was fulfilled. But it also meant that even the King had no power to keep Kara at court if she had been recalled. Not until a new contra
ct could be negotiated.
“I know how you feel, son,” the King said softly. “But you must understand. You are the heir to the throne. The sooner you forget her and seek a proper match among the ladies of the royal blood, the better. As for your protection, we still have Aghat Raishan. When Aghat Kara leaves, I’ll send a letter along, requesting to extend his services as your personal guard.”
Kyth shook his head. He knew he should listen to his father. Raishan was a decent man, and a superb fighter whose skill and rank matched Kara’s. But to forget her, and turn his attention to other young ladies? That didn’t seem possible.
The king’s chest heaved with a sigh. “Right now, this isn’t the only one of our worries.” He handed Kyth a parchment marked with a black glossy imprint of the Holy Star. “This letter came from the Holy City today.”
Kyth’s eyebrows rose in disbelief as he ran his eyes over the parchment. “A new reverend? But Father Boydos was elected less than six months ago.”
The king nodded. “I don’t like this any more than you do. Father Boydos’s sudden illness sounds highly suspicious. And all this business about holding an emergency election by the conclave, without my knowledge and with less than half its members present…”
Kyth looked at the letter again. “I guess we’ll learn the details soon enough. It says here that the new man, Father Cyrros, will arrive shortly, possibly even this afternoon.”
“Yes.” The king frowned. “He’s in a damn hurry to see us, that’s for sure.”
“He had to start his trip to the capital on the day of his election, as soon as he sent off this letter…” Kyth’s voice trailed into silence. Such a rush could only mean one thing. The new Reverend had pressing business at court, and Kyth could just guess what it was.
My gift.
By the ancient law of Ghaz Shalan, a man with magic could never succeed the throne, an old rule that put not only Kyth’s but his father’s position into question. Old Reverend Boydos had been willing to look the other way, possibly even to speak in favor of reconsidering the law. But now that a new man had taken his place and was on his speedy way to the capital.
Will this ever end? Kyth bit his lip, glancing out of the window to where the blue haze of the lake interceded with the jagged roofline of the city. From the throne room he couldn’t see the stretch of the main road leading up to the castle, but he had a clear view of the Holy Gate and the wide street that led from there to the Fountain Plaza. People lined it as far as the eye could see, a colorful crowd carrying flowering apple branches and banners with the signs of the Holy Star.
“News travels fast.”
The King frowned. “Especially bad news. In any case, we’ll know as soon as His Reverence is sighted from the main gate. Which leaves me a bit of time to show you the last of the three letters I received today.” He handed Kyth the rolled-up parchment tied with the green and gold sash of the Royal House Illitand.
Kyth ran his eyes over the neat lines of writing. Duke Daemur Illitand was regretfully informing the King that due to an illness he won’t be able to attend the meeting of the High Council due in six weeks. He also mentioned that Princess Aljbeda of Shayil Yara, currently enjoying his hospitality at the Illitand Hall, found the air of the south lakes so agreeable that she may not be able to make the trip either.
Kyth lowered the parchment in disbelief. “But this… this…”
The King nodded. “Yes. This borders on mutiny and is bound to cause a major uproar. The other noble families would never take me seriously unless I can get the Duke’s and the Princess’s support. If I cannot change their minds, we might end up in a civil war.”
More trouble because of my gift. Kyth sighed. When his father won the contest for the crown, he thought all their troubles were behind them. But it seemed that Kyth’s cursed magic, an ungodly gift that should have marked him for elimination at birth, would haunt them forever.
“What are we going to do, father?” he said quietly.
“Change the law. It’s the only way.”
“But–”
The king ran a hand through his long black hair with a scarce touch of gray and leaned back into his chair. “I know. Without the full vote at the High Council, this couldn’t be done. Which means, I’ll just have to travel to Illitand Hall and personally convince the Duke – and the Princess – to see things my way.”
“Travel?”
“Why the hell not?”
“Too dangerous.”
The king grinned. “Beats the boredom of sitting in the royal chambers all day reading letters.”
Kyth held his father’s gaze. The merry sparkles in the King’s blue eyes showed him as he was before – not an aging man buried in the kingdom’s affairs, but a dashing nobleman and a renowned swordsman, the only man at court who played by his own rules. Against reason, this confidence caught Kyth. No matter what the new Reverend had to say about his gift, no matter what the nobles thought, they were going to have it their way. And, he was going to keep Kara by his side even if he had to go to the Majat Guild himself to talk to their Guildmaster.
He lowered his eyes to the three parchments. If he became king, would he learn to deal with bad news like his father, with a smile on his face?
“I think,” the King said, “you’d better go. The Keepers are waiting.”
Kyth looked at his torn, dirty shirt. There was nothing he wanted more than a nice, warm bath. But before he did, he had to go to the dungeon and do his duty.
3
THE PRISONER
The open doorway to the interrogation cell oozed with smells of rot, mold, and dirty wash water. Ellah, hovering close to the entrance, looked green in the face as she cast nervous glances inside.
“Where’s Alder?” Kyth asked as he approached.
“He went in already.” She glanced at the dark doorway. “Are you sure it’s necessary for us all to be there?”
“Why don’t you wait outside,” Kyth said. “I’ll call you if you’re needed.”
She nodded gratefully.
The light of two torches fixed into the sconces at the far wall painted the white Keepers’ robes with a blood-red sheen. The Majat’s black outfits blended with the shadows. Kyth had to strain his eyes to see Kara and Mai standing beside the prisoner, their slim shapes partially shielding him from view. The third Diamond, Raishan, hovered nearby, his face set into a calm mask.
The presence of three Diamonds, a deadly force capable of withstanding a small army, made the cell safer than any fortress, yet Kyth shivered as he made his way toward the chained prisoner crouching at the far wall.
At close range the man didn’t seem menacing. He looked like a regular mercenary, no match for the Diamonds that stood guard over him. A bandage covered his head, a torn shirt exposing the muscles of his arms and chest. The cursed mark was hidden from view, yet Kyth couldn’t keep his eyes from sliding to the cloth covering the man’s left shoulder.
“Where’s Ellah?” Alder asked. “I thought she was right behind me.”
“She’s outside,” Kyth said. “I think she’s not feeling all that well. We should start without her. We’ll call her if she’s needed.”
“In this case we’re ready, Your Highness,” Mother Keeper said.
Kyth looked past her to the Majat. “You may begin, Aghat Mai.”
The Diamond nodded, then flicked a slender staff out of its sheath at the back and gave the prisoner a slow, appraising glance. His long fingers ran along the dark, polished wood in a caressing gesture, answered by a sharp click of a hidden spring. A blade sprang out of each end of the staff, lengthening the weapon by a foot on each side.
Kyth gaped. He had never seen this weapon at work before, always assumed it was a regular staff. He looked at Mai with new wonder.
The prisoner’s breath quickened. “Keep the pretty boy away from me!”
Mai surveyed him calmly, like a child studying an insect in a jar. “Why did you attack the Prince?”
The priso
ner paled and shook his head, pressing against the wall.
Mai tilted his staff, a blade point touching the prisoner’s skin. The man squirmed. His lips acquired a bluish tint, ragged breath coming in gasps. He gulped, as if trying to speak but failing. It seemed that no matter how hard he tried he wasn’t able to produce any words.
Keeping his hand steady, Mai glanced at the other two Diamonds. Kara shrugged, her face impenetrable. Raishan remained still.
“Perhaps–” Kyth began.
Mother Keeper’s hand touched his wrist. “Forgive the interruption, Your Highness, but I have a suspicion what the problem is. If you’d permit the Magister to interfere–”
The prisoner’s eyes darted to her with hope. Mai balanced the staff in his hand, looking at Kyth with silent question. Kyth nodded. The Diamond stepped aside, sliding a calm glance over Magister Egey Bashi.
The Keeper rolled up his sleeves, exposing his hairy muscular arms. His scarred, bear-like face looked outlandish in the flickering torchlight. He reached forward and tugged at the prisoner’s torn collar, exposing the black downturned triangle branded into his shoulder.
“Tell me,” he said in a quiet voice. “Who marked you with this sign, and why?”
The result was the opposite of what Kyth expected. Instead of calming down as the threat of the weapon was removed, the prisoner’s face twitched in agony. He bared his teeth, throwing his weight against the chains. “Damn you, Keeper!” he rasped.
“Tell me,” Egey Bashi pressed. “Or we’ll let Aghat Mai do his worst.”
The prisoner growled. His lips foamed. Egey Bashi straightened and nodded to Mother Keeper.
The woman spoke, looking the prisoner straight in the eyes: “Kados g’zakkur ahlghalim.”
The words of the strange tongue cut like ice as they echoed through the stone cell. Torchlight wavered. The room darkened, as if a shadow ran over the ceiling.
The prisoner’s body shook from head to toe. His lead lolled, hitting the wall. Arms twisted against the chains as he fell, his eyes bulging, face turning purple. With choking screams, he clawed at his throat as if trying to tear it open, thrashing over the floor as far as the chains would allow.