He knew he should feel guilty, but the promise of such terrible power was truly thrilling and it was only a dream, after all. As the clouds of his dream churned and boiled, he set himself into them willingly, searching for more such beautiful destruction.
The morning was freezing and Samuel had to trot across the narrow tiled floor in their room, making for the haven of the one small rug. He washed from a bowl of hot water and dressed—thankful for his thick Order robes. More than once during the night, he had been woken from his dreams and damned himself for being so reliant on the Argum Stone. It would only have taken a trickle of power to warm his icy bones, but a trickle of power was something the relic could not offer him. It was a weapon of all or nothing, and his attempts to control the object had still met such limited success.
He had half-expected the Paatin to attack while he slept, but no one had come to wake him in the night. He vaguely remembered Goodfellow getting up earlier and leaving him to sleep in. His stomach was grumbling and so he hurried from his room and began following the directions to the dining room that Goodfellow had given him in a lacklustre fashion the night before. He could feel Grand Master Tudor and Master Celios not far away and so, between his magician’s senses and the occasional directions given by passing soldiers, he finally managed to find breakfast. In the last few turns, the smells that wafted along the halls were all he needed to guide his way.
The room was warm and full of steaming goodness—bacon, sausages, eggs and the like—and the others were sitting together, already most of the way through their meal. Goodfellow waved to Samuel as he neared. Sir Ferse, as expected, was sitting tightly next to Master Celios and the Koian men were even dining at the table beside. Only the Koian women were absent and Samuel assumed they would be eating privately in their rooms. Soldiers were champing at their meals at the dozens of other tables; the room was full of the clattering and chattering noises of men and their breakfasting.
‘As you can see, the Paatin are yet to attack,’ said Grand Master Tudor as Samuel stepped over the bench and sat himself down. ‘I presume you had a decent night’s rest.’
‘Indeed,’ Samuel replied, as a busy servingwoman dumped a plate, piled high with foodstuff, before him. There were a couple of other plates sitting abandoned at the end of the table, but the lady seemed happy to let the half-finished breakfasts clutter up the table.
‘Master Celios has indicated that we will stay another day,’ Tudor revealed.
Samuel raised an eyebrow. ‘Oh?’
‘Timing is critical, Samuel,’ Master Celios said, his words barely intelligible due to the great mass of eggs and bread in his mouth. His lips were dripping slop and sauce all over his cloak. ‘Last night I had a very strong feeling. We have a role to play here and the Koians have also not yet played their part.’
‘When will we leave?’ Samuel asked.
‘When the time is right,’ Celios replied.
‘When will the time be right?’
Celios looked back at him, almost in disbelief. ‘When the time is right, Samuel!’
Samuel could see Eric covering his amusement with the back of his hand. It seemed Master Celios could give no particular reason why they should stay and be embroiled in the coming battle, when they had a perfectly good opportunity to slip away—but that was the way with Master Celios.
‘So we are going to assist with the defence of Ghant?’ he asked.
‘If necessary,’ Tudor replied. ‘We will do what we must.’
Just then, something caught Samuel’s eye, there near the kitchen door. He just had time to spy a figure—someone he was sure he recognised—darting away down a side entrance, although it hardly seemed possible in this far-flung place. The little person even seemed to wave at him, as if to catch his attention, which seemed even stranger.
‘Excuse me a moment,’ he said, standing from the bench and sliding out beside the table.
‘Oh?’ Grand Master Tudor said with interest, pulling his staff aside before Samuel knocked it over. ‘Something caught your eye?’
‘Someone,’ Samuel replied, peering towards the corridor. ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’
Samuel darted off after his prey, finding that the doorway opened directly onto an outdoor area where the cooks were hurrying about with their goods and carting wood for their ovens. There, across the hay-strewn floor, the dwarfish figure disappeared into another corridor. Samuel had not seen the man’s face, but everything about the man, and especially his aura—which Samuel had a knack for remembering—seemed to confirm the fact that the man was known to him.
That next door led away past great barrels of water, each piped and connected and surrounded by puddles on the floor. The little man was standing at the end, as if waiting for Samuel and, when he got nearer, he even smiled in greeting, which was brave, because Samuel had the compulsion to kill him right there on the spot.
‘Doonan!’ he said. ‘I knew it! What in blazes are you doing here, you evil little monster? I should kill you now.’
‘Poor Doonan,’ came another voice, and someone else, whom Samuel also knew very well, stepped beside the tiny man. He was tall, neatly dressed in a finely-cut suit, and looked very sure of himself. His name was Balten and he was surrounded by an aura of the sturdiest kind. ‘Don’t harass him, Samuel. That’s not fair of someone of your stature. I thought the Order was more benevolent than that.’
Samuel looked between the two of them, for he was not sure which one disturbed him more: Doonan, the spy-assassin-midget who had captured him and helped Ash with his conquest of the Argum Stone; or Balten, a senior member of the Circle of Eyes, who had threatened Samuel on multiple occasions and manipulated him for his own ends who knows how many times.
‘Calm now, Samuel,’ Balten said smoothly. ‘You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’ Samuel was about to hurl insults at the man, but Balten already had his palms held up in defence. ‘No need to become agitated. Wait a moment while I tell you what is happening, and then feel free to abuse me as much as you wish.’
At this, Samuel took a calming breath. ‘I don’t know why I should, but I will give you a chance. What are you doing here?’
‘He’s just like you said,’ Doonan said in his squeaky voice, arching his neck to look up at the tall man beside him.
Balten only smirked. ‘Yes, he’s very excitable. Let me have a chat with him while you go back to the others,’ to which Doonan scurried off. ‘Now, first of all, I’m here because I’ve been waiting for you, of course. Once word reached me that you had been sent on this god-forsaken mission to rescue your Empress, I knew I would be able to find you here. I do have an offer to make to you, as you probably expect, but you may be surprised to learn I have actually come here with instructions to help you.’
Samuel decided to disbelieve anything that came out of Balten’s mouth from that point on. ‘How is that?’
‘As I’m sure you are aware, there is about to be a rather extensive battle here. With you being as important as Cang believes you to be, I have been instructed to help defend this little tower of rock and its inhabitants, so that you won’t be killed. What do you think of that?’
The smirk on Balten’s face was just far too big.
‘Firstly,’ Samuel began, ‘I don’t want your help and, secondly, the moment anyone here discovers who you are, you will have a lot of trouble keeping your head intact.’
Balten’s smile became even wider. ‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Let’s go give it a try.’
With that, Balten started back towards the dining room. The man who had towered over Samuel when they first met, was now only a head taller, but he strode with such gusto that Samuel had to scurry to keep up.
‘This way, is it?’ Balten said, gesturing into the room and he stepped in and went right up to Grand Master Tudor’s table.
‘Grand Master—’ Samuel began, but his mouth only hung open when he saw Balten sit down at the end of the table, where the midget Doonan was already eating with
zest, and he, too, began eating away at the plate of food that remained.
‘What’s that, Samuel?’ Balten said. ‘You were about to say something? Go on?’
‘Sit down, Samuel,’ Grand Master Tudor insisted, ‘and stop gawking. Yes, I know who this is and I know he is a member of the Circle. I have known of Balten for a long time and, although he is no friend of the Order, we find ourselves in a situation where we require his considerable talents. We have been talking through most of the night and I can see that he was correct in his estimate of your reaction to his offer of assistance. I was going to break the news to you gently, but you rushed out after them like a dog after a hare.’
Samuel sat back down at his place and looked at the two Erics in disbelief. He hoped they would feel as outraged as he was, but they were only waiting calmly to see how the discussion would progress.
‘I don’t know what he’s told you, Grand Master, but this man—both of them—cannot be trusted. They are from the Circle of Eyes. Don’t you understand what that means?’
‘Yes, I do,’ Tudor responded flatly, taking a bite from his well-buttered bread and letting the crumbs tumble down and gather in his beard.
‘They are killers! Assassins! Spies! They are...they are—’ he struggled for more words to appropriately describe them.
‘Scoundrels,’ Balten suggested.
‘Cut-throats,’ Doonan squeaked, looking up from his plate with one eye.
‘But necessary,’ Tudor finished. ‘Master Celios gave me some forewarning that the Circle would have a presence here and, believe it or not, Samuel, the Order has had contact with the Circle at various times before—even if it is one of our deepest, darkest secrets, which it is to remain,’ he added, looking towards the two Erics to ensure they understood. ‘I have dealt with the Circle before, although admittedly never of my own volition, and I have heard many colourful things about Mr Doonan here, who was quite often in the employ of our belated Archmage. Despite all this, the situation is quite clear and requires that we put our differences aside. We must save the Empress and the heir to the Empire. To do that, we must get through these mountains and in order to do that, we must defend Ghant. We need all the help we can get.’
‘But—’ Samuel began to retort, but Tudor cut him off.
‘No.’
‘What—’ Samuel attempted.
‘No.’
‘Grand Master—’ came his last attempt, but Tudor raised a solemn finger and gave Samuel a stern look as he shooshed him.
‘Hush, Samuel. It will be as I have said. Now you can continue flapping your gums like a fish out of water, or you can finish your breakfast.’
With that, Samuel gave up and did as he was told, picking up a lukewarm sausage on the end of his fork. He scowled towards the end of the table, but Balten only smiled back at him disarmingly. There would be no good to be had from this.
After breakfast, Eric Pot and Goodfellow managed to squeeze all the information out of Samuel about Balten and they were both astonished that Grand Master Tudor had decided to work with him and the rotten dwarf, Doonan.
‘But how did he get here before us?’ Eric asked. ‘Do you think he can use a Journey spell?’ he added, making sure no one was near enough to hear.
‘No,’ Goodfellow replied. ‘I think it was luck more than anything, or else he was already in Cintar and just left ahead of us. No one else can use the Journey spell besides you, Eric—as far as we know.’
‘It’s true,’ Samuel agreed. ‘As much as I hate to admit it, it was no great secret that we were coming here, but I just don’t trust him. The Circle never does anything that is not in its own interest.’
‘Well, at least we may be lucky in this case. Our interests appear to coincide,’ Goodfellow added. ‘If we are going to be here for this battle and Balten is as powerful as you say, then he will be very useful to us.’
‘That’s what worries me.’
Grand Master Tudor called them up to a high rampart later in the afternoon and it was surprising to see the Koians had also been summoned. The wind had been blowing strongly in the morning, but it had settled now and the sky was a clear blue, revealing the towering peaks that crowded over them from all around.
Soldiers were mostly milling about, but some were checking and preparing their equipment. Periodically, there would be a loud noise as the ballista teams launched tremendous lengths of sharpened timber and sent them hurtling across the chasm, testing their aim, seemingly able to strike with exact precision. Enormous catapults affixed to the ramparts could also shower the approaching path across the ravine with stones. It seemed obvious how Ghant had withstood all assaults until now. There just seemed to be no way to even near it.
Balten and Doonan were there: Balten dressed in his neat jacket, while Doonan seemed almost attired as a carnival clown, in a suit of coloured stripes and patterns. The Koian god-woman was also there, surrounded by her party, but this time her costume was far less extravagant. Whether it was the impending battle, or just some mysterious facet of her culture, she was now dressed in a many-layered coat with loose sleeves that hung almost to the ground. She wore no wig, but her hair had been greased and coloured with white stripes. Her face was painted snow-white and her eyes etched in black, as if to match the frosty mountain tops around.
‘Everyone is gathered,’ Master Celios announced aloud.
Grand Master Tudor turned to face them and they all shuffled closer. He addressed them in Old Tongue for the benefit of the Koians, so Master Celios kept his mouth close to Sir Ferse’s ear, translating as the old Grand Master spoke.
‘Welcome, everyone. As you can see, Ghant is readied for its defence. I wanted to speak to you all, as we fully expect the attack to begin after dark tonight. We need to prepare ourselves, and I also wanted to give anyone the chance to leave, should they so wish.’ At that he looked meaningfully towards the Koian party, but they did not react in the slightest. ‘Hopefully, the Paatin will realise their assault is futile and leave quickly. Then, we can also be on our way. We expect the Paatin will be forced to withdraw back to Kalid, at least until the spring, for with every passing day winter will make the pass more and more inhospitable.’
Ambassador Canyon returned the look with his own pert smile that he used for all occasions when he was not actually happy. ‘We have made a promise to stay with you, Grand Master Tudor, whatever the situation, until our fate is decided. Whatever the dangers, we have come here as promised. I think there is little point in us leaving so quickly.’
Tudor weighed up the answer. ‘Very well. I suggest that your party remain in your quarters for the duration of any assault. General Mar cannot afford to spare men to take care of you, and being in the open could be dangerous. In the rare chance of the fortress being breached, we will fall back to Shallowbrook. Such an assault, of course, could last for weeks, for, as the chasm that marks the edge of Turia stops our enemy from reaching us, so too, it inhibits us from reaching them. Eventually, it will be the elements that will force them to withdraw. We will meet each afternoon at this time to discuss any changes in our situation.’
Canyon nodded in agreement—or perhaps it was more of a bow, for he had cupped his hands together slightly, as the Koians sometimes did when displaying courtesy. ‘We shall stay in our rooms and out of your way as you suggest.’
‘Sir Ferse,’ Tudor began and that regal fellow looked keenly to the magician in expectation, ‘I think you also should stay indoors.’
But Master Celios would have none of that and spoke up excitedly. ‘Not at all, Grand Master. It is important that Sir Ferse remains with me whenever possible. I will be responsible for his well-being.’
Tudor gave the other Master a level gaze, before submitting. ‘Very well.’ He then turned to Balten and the dwarf. ‘I assume you two will make yourselves useful as required.’
‘We hope to be of some use. I like the look of that tower,’ Balten said, craning his neck to look to the highest column-like reaches of Gh
ant. ‘If you need me, I will probably be up there. Doonan is quite useful with his hands and not too fond of heights, so I think I will set him loose down here. It may pay not to get too close to him, though, once things get started. He can get a tad excitable in the heat of battle.’
At this, Doonan gave a demonic smile and revealed his dirty teeth. The old Grand Master raised a questioning brow, but could only sigh and shake his head.
Tudor turned directly to the younger magicians. ‘You three will stay close to me. Not only must I keep my promise to Grand Master Anthem to keep you safe, but I will call upon your skills as Masters of the Order. I expect you to be ready for anything and to follow my instructions without a blink of hesitation. Captain Orrell and his men have now been assimilated into General Mar’s defences, but, if he comes seeking you, I advise you to follow his instructions. He has grown familiar with the ways of magic and he has a cunning mind. He may find applications for you that even you have not considered yet. Now, please spend a few minutes examining our surrounds.’
They did as instructed, and Samuel used his senses as best he could to assess the far approach to Ghant. There was little to learn, however, and as much as he would have liked to find some tactical advantage hidden in the stones, he could not.
The Koians seemed in no hurry to leave and were also milling about on the parapet, peering down over the battlements and into the chasm and across it with interest, pointing. Samuel strolled in their direction as casually as possible until he was beside the young Lady River, but she did not seem alarmed by his presence.
‘What a beautiful place,’ she said, smiling.
‘Are you not afraid Canyon will see us speaking?’
‘Oh, he already has. There is no point hiding anything. Besides, I will not talk to you about anything now. I have said all I will say. There is nothing else I can do but serve my god as best I can.’
She Who Has No Name (The Legacy Trilogy) Page 18