by Anna Kashina
“That said,” Raishan went on, “I did feel strange for a moment. When he said he surrendered, I–”
Egey Bashi studied him intently. “Some of the Kaddim were rumored to have a rarer power, one that clouded people’s judgment so subtly it was hard to detect. It is rumored that this power – an extremely difficult one to wield – is nearly impossible to resist.” He glanced at Kyth.
“Perhaps,” Raishan said. “But if so, it was very subtle indeed. It just made sense to spare his life. In any case, it doesn’t matter now, they’re gone. And I don’t think we should expect them back any time soon. Not while Kyth’s with us.” He bent down to collect his throwing knives.
“I believe,” Egey Bashi said, “we were about to have some tea.”
He threw a handful of leaves into the boiling kettle and poured out three mugs, handing them around. Kyth sipped the tart, heady liquid that rolled through his body with pleasant warmth. He felt so weak even sitting straight was an effort, but he forced himself to stay upright, chewing on the dry meat ration that Raishan took out of his bag. This one didn’t have any unusual herbs in it, bringing no relief for his fatigue, only heaviness to his tired limbs.
Kyth was about to lie down when Mai stirred and opened his eyes. He struggled to rise on his elbow and moved his gaze around the group, his eyes aglow with a feverish gleam.
“What did I miss?” he asked. He spoke slowly, as if he was about to fall asleep.
Raishan turned to face him. The vertical line was back on his forehead.
“Some of your friends came by, Aghat. But they’re gone now. I don’t think they’ll be bothering us for a while.”
Mai nodded, his expression making Kyth doubt he was really aware of his surroundings. Raishan put a hand on his forehead. He paused for a second, the line between his eyebrows becoming deeper. Then he turned to Egey Bashi.
“It’s starting,” he said quietly.
He carefully folded away the blanket covering Mai. The bandage on his chest had soaked through. Redness was spreading around the wound, lashing out along the skin in thin, narrow tongues.
“Lie back, Aghat,” Raishan said. “Let me take a look at your wound.”
Mai obeyed. His eyes had an absent expression. It wasn’t clear if he was aware of what was going on. Egey Bashi moved over and sat on the other side, watching Raishan peel off the bandage to expose the injured flesh. Its deadly leaden color was back. As far as Kyth could tell, it wasn’t healing at all.
“Do the Keepers have any remedy for that?” Raishan asked.
The Magister hesitated. “One. But you’re not going to like it.” He reached into his medicine pouch, took out a small flat vial and handed it to Raishan. The Majat took it and unscrewed the lid, carefully smelling the contents. Then he closed it and stared at the Keeper with a shocked expression.
“Black Death? Are you out of your mind, Magister?”
“I’m afraid we don’t have much choice, Aghat.”
Raishan shook his head. “This poison’s not only deadly, but there’s no antidote to it. If you want to kill him, why not just stab him through the heart to spare him the agony?”
Egey Bashi smiled. “What you say is true, Aghat, but there’s one thing about this poison, not commonly known. Taken in small doses, it counters the effects of severe infections. It’s rough, but given Aghat Mai’s injuries, I’d say we have nothing to lose. He’ll die for certain if we don’t do anything. But if we get the dose right, he might survive.”
“Might?”
“It’s the best I can offer, Aghat. Believe me, I understand how precious his life is to your Guild. This is exactly why I think we should try.”
“It’s not about his worth to the Guild. He’s one of the best fighters in existence. We can’t afford to gamble with his life!”
Mai woke up from his daze and pushed Raishan’s hands away, struggling to sit upright. Raishan moved to stop him, but Egey Bashi held him back. He reached over and handed Mai a mug of tea.
The Majat took it and drank. Then he lowered it and looked at the Keeper. He seemed unsure of where he was.
“How are you feeling, Aghat?” Egey Bashi asked.
Mai appeared to consider it. “Hot. I think.”
“Your wound is infected,” the Keeper told him. “It’s poisoning your blood. You know what this means, don’t you, Aghat?”
Mai looked down to his chest. His hollow cheeks burned with feverish color.
“I bet even the Keepers have no cure for this one.” He sounded almost sane as he said it, but in a moment his gaze became absent again. He looked around for the blanket and pulled it over himself, shivering.
“You bet wrong,” Egey Bashi told him. “We do.”
He showed Mai a small vial. The Majat looked at it absently. He clearly had difficulty concentrating.
“My cure,” Egey Bashi said, “is Black Death.”
Mai seemed to have lost track of the conversation. He stared at the vial in the Keeper’s hand, then looked away toward the fire.
“It will make you sick for a while,” Egey Bashi went on. “You may not survive. But as far as I know it’s your best chance. What do you say, Aghat?”
Mai smiled. His eyes gleamed, and for a moment he looked alert, almost normal. “I feel lucky. Why not?” He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself and lay back.
Raishan gave the Keeper a dark look. “He’s delirious. I don’t think he really understood you.”
Egey Bashi shrugged. “You can’t make this decision for him, Aghat Raishan. And neither can I. Like you said, none of us has the right to gamble with his life. His word is all we have to go on. Chances are low either way, but at least if we follow his wish, we’d be doing something.”
Raishan hesitated, but Kyth could tell he was giving in.
Egey Bashi poured new tea into the mug, filling it halfway, and opened his vial. He added one very small drop and mixed it carefully into the liquid. Then he leaned over Mai.
“Can you understand me, Aghat?” he asked.
Mai’s eyes searched around and fixed on his face. “What do you want?”
The Keeper held the mug out to him. “You must drink this all the way to the bottom.”
Mai struggled and pulled himself up, but the effort was clearly costing him a lot of strength. Raishan hurried to support him. Kyth watched, mesmerized. It was frightening to see Mai in such a state. In a way it was more frightening than seeing him unconscious.
Mai took the mug and stared into it. Then he sniffed it.
“Drink it,” Egey Bashi prompted.
Mai met his gaze. “Is it going to hurt?”
“Not right away.”
Mai nodded. “Come to think of it, it really doesn’t matter.” He raised the mug to his lips and drank. As he did, Raishan moved to interfere, but stopped halfway and sat back, watching. The vertical line was back on his forehead, so clear it threatened to become permanent.
Mai drank up and lay back on the cloak, staring into the sky. Egey Bashi carefully took the mug from his hand and looked back at Raishan.
“You can treat his wound now,” he said. “He will be calm for a while, but afterwards he’ll become delirious. We’ll have to keep watch over him.”
“How long?”
“His fever should break by dawn. After that, we’ll know if it has worked. Either way, tomorrow morning we should start back to the Cha’ori camp. There’s nothing more we can do.”
Raishan didn’t respond. He turned and busied himself with the wound. Mai looked awake, but he lay still, showing no reaction to what was being done to him. His breath became shallow and even from where he sat Kyth could feel the heat emanating from his body.
Raishan dressed the wound with a fresh bandage and examined the other cuts that still needed attention. Kyth was amazed to see that the bruise on Mai’s face was almost gone, leaving no more than a shadow under the eye. The other cuts had healed, except for the deeper one at the left temple that was still visible but n
o longer bleeding.
It was still broad daylight by the time Raishan was done, but everyone felt exhausted. Kyth had trouble holding his eyes open. He dozed off and woke up, catching Egey Bashi’s gaze.
“Why don’t we all get some sleep,” the Keeper suggested. “We might be in for a rough night.”
40
HIGH TREASON
Evan looked up as he heard voices at the entrance to the hallway, the boundary of his imprisonment. He almost welcomed the interruption of his daily routine, which consisted mostly of staring out the window onto the lake or listening to Odara Sul and Mother Keeper arguing about the subtleties of the Keepers’ Order operations. For the past three weeks he had had no other company.
The new Diamond of the Pentade, Han, was a man of very few words. Under his command the elite Kingsguard turned into little more than silent statues, always present but never offering any variation to the daily boredom. Evan found himself missing Mai, whose natural glamour had a way of keeping everyone on their toes.
The doors to the chamber swayed open, revealing the commotion outside.
The Rubies had their backs to Evan, weapons out, shielding the doorway. Han raced past them into the chamber, giving fast hand signs as he rushed by. He took his place by the King’s side and drew swords from the sheaths at his back.
The intruders halted behind the line of the Rubies. In the lead was the Olivian ambassador Tanad Eli Faruh, his scarlet and blue robes an assault to the eye in the tranquil grays of the castle’s decorations. Next to him walked a lean, graceful man with a gaunt face and striking pale eyes that looked yellow in the bright sunlight streaming through the windows. Twelve men formed a line behind them, orbens at the ready. A group of Illitand guards brought up the rear, their faces bearing expressions of uncertainty as they kept glancing at the doors behind.
“What is the meaning of this?” Evan demanded. He threw a curious glance at the Tanad’s yellow-eyed companion. It could only be the mysterious Kaddim Tolos, the man who led the attack on Kyth back in Tadar and whose strange power got Mai into an ordeal down in the Illitand Castle hallway.
The Olivian ambassador stepped forward. “Forgive the intrusion, Your Majesty, but I believe it’s time that you and Lord Daemur talked. You can’t just stay in this castle and refuse to see him forever.”
“Of course I can,” Evan said. “And it’s exactly what I intend to do until the Duke ends this outrage and lets me go.”
“Come now, Sire,” Eli Faruh persuaded. “All anyone wants to do is talk. What harm could there be in that?”
Evan turned and walked back to his chair, taking time to settle in and arrange the folds of his cloak around him. “Is Daemur willing to apologize, then?”
The Tanad spread his hands. “Aren’t you taking this a little bit too far, Your Majesty? Lord Daemur and you played together as children. What’s a few harsh words between old friends?”
Evan shrugged. “I don’t think you could possibly understand, Tanad. So it’s obviously a waste of time for me to try to explain. I regret you had to come all the way to my chambers just for this.”
The hesitant glance Eli Faruh threw at his companion confirmed Evan’s suspicion that the real conversation was just about to start. He surveyed his bodyguards. Han by his side looked easy and confident. He seemed like adequate protection, but Evan couldn’t help thinking that the rest of the Pentade was too far away, so that in case of a fight they could be easily separated from their leader.
He remembered what Daemur Illitand had said about the Pentade leaders’ styles, after his pathetic attempt to ambush Evan during their previous meeting. If Mai was still in charge, he would be out in the front now, and the Rubies would be spaced in the way that left Evan protected from all sides.
Kaddim Tolos stepped forward. Evan’s skin crept as he watched the man approach the Rubies, who closed in their shoulders to block him.
“You will come with us, Your Majesty,” Tolos said in a low, deep voice. He drew himself up and spread out his hands. A surge of power swept through the room, smothering all sounds as it pressed on the ears with a silencing pulse. The Rubies dropped their weapons, sinking onto the floor. Han stepped forward and raised his swords, but his movements were slow and uncertain, as if he wasn’t sure what he was doing.
The Kaddim gave a short command and his men fanned out, side-stepping the Rubies crouched at their feet. Han stood in their way, but despite his high ranking he suddenly didn’t seem like adequate protection anymore. His body shuddered as the Kaddim’s power hit him, and Evan had a distinct feeling that while the Diamond still managed to stay on his feet, he was having trouble holding on to his weapons. He reached inside his cloak and drew his own sword, struggling against the pulses of power emanating from the Kaddim’s outstretched palms.
The men spun their orbens, lashing them at Han. The Diamond advanced, his swords cutting the air. He moved with difficulty, as if trying to run through a thick layer of treacle. His thrust blocked one of the orbens, tearing it from the attacker’s hand. His other blade hacked through a chain and a spiked metal ball flew off, spinning through the room and landing with a thud against the wall. He slid forward, but his movements had none of the speed or precision Evan knew him to be capable of.
An orben came through, sweeping Han’s shoulder and leaving a dark streak of blood on his torn sleeve. Han wavered, too slow to dodge another orben coming at him at full speed. The weapon hit him on the side of the head. Han stumbled.
Orbens were coming from all sides, too many to dodge. One hit him on the shoulder, making him waver and lose his balance. Another crashed into his skull from the back. The ugly cracking sound echoed through the hall, blood splattering out of the wound. The impact sent Han flying. He folded as he fell, as if suddenly devoid of bones. Swords flew out of his hands, leaving bloody trails as they skidded along the polished stone floor.
As if in a nightmare, Evan watched his top-ranked elite guard roll to a standstill at his feet. The Majat was no longer bleeding. His eyes stared unseeingly at the ceiling, head tilted at an angle that indicated a broken neck.
Tolos lowered his hands. “As you see, Your Majesty, this wasn’t even much of a fight.”
Evan’s skin crept with terror he hadn’t experienced in a very long time. He wanted to respond, but his voice failed him.
This wasn’t possible. It simply couldn’t be happening. No one was capable of killing a Diamond Majat. Not like this, without even much of a fight.
It couldn’t be true.
A door opened and closed, footsteps echoing through the hallway. Daemur Illitand strode in and stopped dead in his tracks, color draining from his pale cheeks.
“What happened here, Kaddim Tolos?” he demanded.
“They tried to resist us,” Tolos said. “But we have everything under control, Your Grace.”
Illitand’s lowered hand trembled. “You and your men just killed a Diamond Majat!”
Tolos nodded with satisfaction. “Yes. And now the King is much less protected than before. We can easily control his guards. He’s all yours, to do with as you please.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
Tolos shrugged. “You took King Evan prisoner, so that you could make him agree to our terms. But it has become all but impossible with the way he spends all his time in his chamber, locked away with his unbeatable guards, refusing to see anyone. We helped you to break the stalemate, that’s all. Your Grace should be thanking my men and me.”
Illitand stared at him with the chilling expression of a snakecharmer. “Get out. Whatever it was you wanted from me, the deal’s off. I want nothing more to do with you.”
Tolos’s lips folded into a smile. “I’m afraid, Your Grace, it’s a bit too late for that. My men and I are here, and as you see, quite capable of getting our way by any necessary means. We have your entire household, as well as the key to your southern sovereign, little Princess Aljbeda, under our control. You’ll have to deal with us, whether you like
it or not.”
The Duke abruptly lifted his chin, his face showing a mixture of shock and surprise as if he had just been slapped by a wordless servant. He stared at the Kaddim, then turned to Evan who was watching the scene with a carefully arranged expression of calmness.
“This wasn’t our deal,” the Duke said quietly. “You promised me–”
The Kaddim laughed. “I thought our deal was off. Didn’t you just say so, Duke?”
“But–” The stare of the Kaddim’s yellow eyes froze the words on the Duke’s lips.
Tolos’s smile became triumphant. “There are times, Duke, when you simply can’t get what you want. At such times, you must learn to settle for what you’re offered. I suggest you take it before the offer gets worse.”
He turned and strode out of the room. His men followed. In the shocked silence that followed, the Rubies recovered their weapons and slowly gathered around Han’s body. Illitand guards in their green and gold livery stood still, their faces contorted with horror. Mother Keeper and Odara Sul appeared in the doorway behind them with grave expressions.
Evan turned to Daemur and the Tanad. “What was the deal he offered the two of you?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Daemur said. “Whatever his deal, I’m no longer interested. The man’s out of his mind!”
Evan smiled. “I wouldn’t be so sure, Duke. He looked quite sane to me. In fact, he may have been the only man in this room with a firm grip on reality. He played you, and if you want a chance to save yourself, you’d do well to admit it.”
Daemur’s gaze flared with defiance, but he controlled it and lowered his head.
“No need to dwell on past mistakes, Sire,” he said. “I regret what happened. All of it.”
“Is this an apology?”
The Duke met his gaze. There was a long pause.
“I am sorry for keeping you prisoner,” he said. “And, I’m sorry for what happened here today. But I will never apologize for what I said. Not before you do.”
Evan smiled. “Fair enough. Neither will I.”
“Perhaps, my lords,” Tanad Eli Faruh offered, “these matters can wait until a more appropriate time. The real question is, what are we going to do now?”