Blades of the Old Empire

by Anna Kashina

  Somewhere during the meal the two missing Rubies appeared from the direction of the road and took their places beside the fire. Odara Sul handed each of them a steaming bowl, but before starting their meal they exchanged glances with Mai. Only after receiving his nod of approval did they direct attention to the food, which they wolfed down in no time.

  Ellah took it upon herself to clean up. She collected the bowls and spoons into the empty pot and made her way down to the brook. Pulling out a patch of tall grass she rolled it up into the likeness of a washing sponge, using sand and mud on the bank to scrape off the grease.

  Halfway through her washing, she turned her head searching for a fresh patch of grass, and jumped.

  Mai was standing behind her, only a few paces away. She had no idea when or how he got there. She scrambled up to her feet, shaking the unruly strands of hair out of her eyes and trying to keep her greasy hands out of sight.

  “How long have you been standing here?” she demanded.

  He didn’t respond. In the gathering dusk his eyes were in shadow and his hair glimmered like gold against his pale skin.

  “How did you know they weren’t the Holy Knights?” he asked.

  Ellah was taken aback. She didn’t expect this. Should she tell him about her gift – if indeed she had one? She wasn’t sure what to say at all. It was so hard to think with him looking at her like this. She was beginning to feel hot and was grateful for the dusk that hid the color of her face.

  “I just – it seemed to me that they were lying,” she said.

  “It didn’t just ‘seem’, did it?” he insisted. “You wouldn’t have risked everything if you weren’t sure.”

  Ellah lifted her chin. She didn’t like it when people thought they could read her.

  “How do you know I wouldn’t have?” she challenged.

  He stepped closer, looking into her face. From this distance she was no longer sure she could hide her blush. She wanted to back away, but there was nowhere to go. Behind her, there was only water.

  His eyes were still in shadow, but she could feel the intensity of his gaze.

  “Call it a hunch,” he said.

  He was so close now that she could smell his skin – a faint fresh scent of spring water with a touch of pine. The blush rolled down her neck. Her heart pounded, making it hard to think.

  “All right,” she admitted. “I knew.”

  “How?”

  She forced herself not to blink. Her helplessness against his closeness made her angry. She gathered all her remaining wits and took a deep breath.

  “Call it a hunch,” she said.

  He held her gaze for a moment longer. Then he turned and slid off into the darkness in the direction of the camp.

  When Ellah finally made her way back with a pile of clean dishes in her arms, Odara Sul was waiting.

  “You took a while.”

  Ellah didn’t respond. Her gaze drifted toward the fire, where Evan and the Majat were sitting, deep in conversation. Mai had his back to her, his eyes fixed on the shadows.

  “Mother Keeper is waiting,” Odara said.

  “For what?”

  “To begin your training. Come.”

  Intrigued, Ellah followed Odara to the side of the camp. Mother Keeper was sitting on the corner of a blanket, her back straight, legs crossed with the knees flat on the ground, in a pose that Ellah was sure she could never manage.

  “Come, sit,” Mother Keeper beckoned.

  Ellah approached and lowered onto the opposite corner of the blanket. “I can’t sit like you.”

  Mother Keeper smiled. “Just make yourself comfortable.”

  Ellah relaxed, trying to find a comfortable position on the blanket. After a day’s ride it wasn’t an easy task. She glanced toward the center of the camp. She knew she shouldn’t be visible to the people sitting in the bright circle of the fire, but she could swear Mai, from the far side of it, was looking her way.

  “It’s essential for our lesson that you are able to concentrate,” Mother Keeper said, following the direction of Ellah’s gaze. “Do you think you can?”

  Ellah tore her eyes away from the distant group and looked at the woman. She was blushing again, but she hoped it wasn’t too noticeable in the darkness.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “Good,” Mother Keeper said. “Now, tell me what happened on the road today.”

  “I’m not sure. I just– suddenly I knew this man was lying.”

  “You did fine,” Mother Keeper assured her. “I was the one who was slow to react. It is fortunate for all of us that King Evan has such formidable guards.”

  Ellah couldn’t help stealing another look at Mai, but he was now sitting sideways, engaged in a conversation with Evan. She relaxed.

  “I did feel this way before,” she said, “but usually no one believed me. And then it always seemed to me later that I was wrong. But this time…” She paused.

  Mother Keeper nodded. “This time we believed you, and you were right. I can teach you how to control it, so that you could always tell. Now, listen.” She moved closer and put her hands over Ellah’s. Her touch was warm. “Close your eyes. Make yourself very comfortable. Lie down, if you want. And listen to my voice. Try to distinguish if I am telling the truth.”

  “But how?”

  “There is a method to it. You should think past my words. You should try to separate my voice into tones and undertones, so that you could tell whether I am thinking in harmony with what I say.”

  “Past the words? I don’t understand.”

  “When you listen to people and recognize that they are lying,” Mother Keeper said, “it’s not the words that you recognize, it’s the feeling behind the words. Every time you hear a lie, there’s something you can detect in the speaker’s feelings that other people can’t. The purpose of our lessons is to try to identify this something, to separate it from the rest, so that you can sense it every time. Try.”

  Ellah leaned back and lay down on the blanket, facing upward to the clear night sky. It felt good after the hard day. She closed her eyes, listening to Mother Keeper’s voice.

  “When a king of Tallan Dar dies without an heir, succession must be decided by the majority vote at the High Council, with House Dorn holding the principal claim against the other royal houses,” Mother Keeper said.

  “True.” Ellah hesitated. “But I don’t think I need my gift to tell. This is how King Evan won the crown.”

  “Try another one. If the Royal House Dorn has no eligible heirs, the next in line to rule is the head of the Royal House Illitand.”

  “It’s the truth.” Ellah’s eyes widened. “Really? But that would make the Duke of Illitand eligible to contest –” she clasped her hand over her mouth. The information put a new spin on their current trip. If King Evan was the last in his line, wouldn’t he be in danger right now, riding in disguise straight into Illitand’s stronghold? Relax, she told herself. Kyth, Evan’s rightful heir, was alive and well, under the Majat’s protection. There shouldn’t be any problems, should there?

  Mother Keeper only smiled, as if oblivious to the unspoken question. “Now, let’s try a different one. Odara Sul learned to cook from her grandmother, who was also a Keeper of high standing.”

  Ellah hesitated. “A lie.”

  “Which part?”

  “I am not sure. Both?”

  Mother Keeper shook her head. “The first part is almost true. Odara Sul’s grandmother was a great cook, but she never was a Keeper. She died when Odara was very young, so Odara never had a chance to learn much cooking. We continued her training as a cook in the White Citadel.”

  “There is something wrong about the way you said it just now.”

  “Which part?”

  “The last one. You almost believe it, but not quite. Which makes it not exactly a lie, but…”

  Mother Keeper gave her a long look. “You’re better than I thought. The part you are sensing is about cooking. We didn’t exactly train
Odara to cook. But it’s not important now. Your purpose is to try to understand how you can tell.”

  Ellah closed her eyes again and relaxed back against the blanket, listening to Mother Keeper’s next statement.

  “Ghaz Shalan Testing was first instigated in the Old Empire, when the court alchemists came upon a substance that can boil when it comes into contact with the blood of the gifted. The gift was later proclaimed to be a curse, and the liquid was adopted by the Church as the way to test all the newborns in the Empire.”

  “It seems like the truth,” Ellah said, “but it shouldn’t be. The Holy Book says that Ghaz Shalan Elixir was discovered with Lord Shal Addim’s guidance by Father Bertoldos, nine hundred years ago, to help eliminate ungodly creations of the Cursed Destroyer.”

  “Yes, the Holy Book does say this, doesn’t it?”

  Ellah sensed a smile behind the older woman’s calm tone. She sat up. She knew that many in their kingdom opposed Ghaz Shalan Testing, and that quite a few people – including Kyth and Ellah herself – would have been dead if the priests had their way all the time, but to say that the holiest elixir in existence came from anywhere else but Shal Addim’s grace was blasphemy. At least it had been, in the world where Ellah had grown up.

  “And you think you know better, don’t you?” she asked.

  Mother Keeper smiled. “You tell me.”

  Ellah hesitated. This is just a lesson, she reminded herself. Besides, what Mother Keeper said didn’t have to be the truth – she just had to believe she was telling it.

  She closed her eyes and lay back again.

  There was a brief pause before Mother Keeper went on. “A large part of the Bengaw province is covered in swamps that originate from the Dark Mire in the Forestlands.”

  “True.”

  “Aghat Mai is looking at you,” Odara Sul suddenly said.

  Ellah sat up so quickly she felt dizzy, and spun around toward the fire. Mai was still turned sideways, deep in conversation. He wasn’t looking her way at all.

  Ellah glared. “You lied, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, and you believed me!” Odara doubled over with laugher.

  “But –”

  Mother Keeper’s glance silenced them.

  “It’s the most important part of your lesson today,” she said to Ellah. “You can’t sense the truth where your emotions are involved. And this is your most vulnerable spot. We must learn to overcome it.”

  “But how?” Ellah felt helpless. Despite Mother Keeper’s words she found it so difficult to draw her eyes away from Mai’s perfect profile. Why did he have to be so handsome? Why did he have to catch her alone this evening and sneak up so close to her? Why did his smell, the faint scent of pine and spring water, make her feel so weak inside?

  “Try to think,” Mother Keeper said. “What makes you feel something is a lie?”

  Ellah closed her eyes one more time.

  “Colors,” she finally said. “When you speak, I see colors. Blue or green when it’s true. And red or pink when I think it’s a lie.”

  “What about the times when you cannot tell?”

  “They kind of shimmer. And when I think harder they can turn any color I want.”

  “Now he’s really looking at you,” Odara Sul said.

  Ellah made a move to rise, but Mother Keeper’s hand held her in place.

  “Try to tell if this one is true. Then you can look.”

  Ellah relaxed back into the blanket. She tried to think, but when she imagined that he could see her sprawled like this, with her hair in disarray, with the collar of her shirt folded away showing too much of her neck, she couldn’t possibly think straight. She tried to tell herself that no one could possibly see such details looking from the brightly lit fire into the darkness, but it was hard.

  “Probably a lie,” she finally said.

  The hand let go. She rose up to a sitting position and looked.

  Mai’s head was turned her way. It was far, and the blaze of the fire was right in front of him, but she could swear that he looked all the way to where she sat and met her eyes. Then he smiled and turned away.

  Ellah blushed so deeply even her neck went crimson. Mother Keeper watched her intently.

  “He’s quite dashing,” she said quietly. “But you must be careful around him, child. Remember, he’s a hired killer, cold-blooded and ruthless. If he gives you any attention, it’s either for his amusement or to serve some hidden purpose.”

  Ellah looked away. She knew Mother Keeper believed her words to be the truth. But what if she was wrong about this one? What if Mai really was different?

  9

  NIGHT-TIME ENCOUNTER

  “These hazels are too young,” Egey Bashi said. “It would be hard to find any firewood.”

  They had been riding well into dusk and camped at the edge of a hazel grove beside a small brook, tethering their mounts to the low hanging hazel branches with enough leeway to reach the water and the rich grass pasture on the other side. A semicircle of stones piled waist-high on the far side of the glade created a primitive shelter to protect travelers from the bitter flatland winds. A pit filled with old coals lay in the center of the protected area. A small pile of firewood was propped under a protruding stone ledge, an aid to stranded travelers trying to start a fire.

  “This should be enough for a bit,” Raishan said. “But we’ll need more later on. It’s going to be a cold night.”

  “I’ll go gather some wood,” Kyth volunteered.

  “I’ll go with you,” Kara said, exchanging a short glance with Raishan.

  Kyth laid down his pack next to Alder, busy unpacking their food supplies, and wrapped himself tighter in his cloak before following Kara into the deep hazel growth.

  It promised to be a cold night. As they picked their way along the uneven ground, Kyth could see his breath coming out in thin streaks of vapor. The hazel branches spread above them, their deep shade making it difficult to see ahead. Kyth strained his eyes to focus on Kara’s cloaked figure creeping away into the gloom.

  “There really isn’t much dry wood in here,” she said after a while.

  “Maybe we should just cut some fresh branches?” Kyth suggested.

  She shook her head, her hair a pale gleam in the forest dimness. “Fresh wood would never burn. Let’s go further. Maybe we’ll find a dead tree or something.”

  Further ahead the trees were scarce , letting in enough moonlight to illuminate the eerie landscape with a suffused, silvery glow. Kyth caught up with Kara, watching the soft line of her profile, barely visible in the forest shade.

  “When Nimos looked at you,” he said at length. “I… I…” He took a deep breath. “I was afraid,” he confessed.

  “Afraid?”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to you because of me.”

  She let out a short laugh. “Me? What could possibly happen to me?”

  Kyth hesitated. On one hand, it seemed ridiculous to fear for her; she was one of the best fighters in existence. Only her fellows in rank could match her skill. She was also immune to the disabling power wielded by their mysterious Kaddim attackers. And yet, since their encounter with Nimos, Kyth couldn’t escape the nagging feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

  “My presence puts you in danger,” he said. “I can feel it.”

  She laughed again. “What’s gotten into you? I’m here to protect you, remember?”

  He shook his head. He didn’t know how explain it to her. In the face of her certainty he was beginning to doubt himself. Perhaps deep down it wasn’t concern for her that made him feel so insecure, but fear of the possibility that after they reach the Majat Guild he might fail the negotiations and lose her.

  “Do you think your Guildmaster will let you go on with me?” he asked.

  She shrugged. “He will, if you pay the price. He cannot refuse. Unless–”

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless he’s already committed me to another assignmen
t. But even then, someone would have to hire me by name to take precedence over you, and no one has hired a Diamond by name for hundreds of years.”

  “Really?”

  “It costs triple, and it really makes no sense. Everyone knows all Diamonds are truly equal in skill, so why pay triple for the same thing?”

  Kyth nodded. Her words were reassuring. “I’m glad we’ll be together,” he said quietly.

  She stopped and turned to face him, her eyes two dark spots in the forest dimness.

  “Kyth–”

  “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it.” Kyth lowered his head. He was a prince, a man whose wishes mattered very little when it came to choosing a bride. His feelings for Kara, if pursued, could lead to a scandal, maybe even a war, but they could never lead to a proper marriage. He cared too much to put her through that. It seemed much better never to mention his feelings to her. Yet, when she stood in front of him, so close that he could detect her faint natural scent of wild flowers, it was too hard to control himself.

  “I… I know we’re not a proper match,” he said.

  “It’s not that.” She reached forward to touch his hand. Her warmth made him shiver as he closed his fingers over hers.

  “It’s not you,” she said. “It’s me. I’m not allowed to have any feelings, for anyone. It would go against my training and everything I am. I do care for you, but–”

  Her breath burned his cheek. Her eyes filled his vision, beckoning. Her faint scent was driving him mad. He wasn’t sure what he was doing anymore.

  As Kyth drew closer, she turned and met his lips. The kiss echoed through his body like silent thunder. His head swam, his mind retreating to give room to raw senses. He immersed in her closeness, her warmth, her smell. He didn’t know how long it lasted. Her skin was smooth under his lips, the silk of her hair caressing his cheek. Her kiss drowned him and brought him back to life and drowned him again.