Betrayal

by Lara Morgan

  He didn’t know she was in the cart; she could slip out the other side — she stopped, annoyed at her cowardice. Since when had she been afraid of a man? She’d sought them out often enough in times past … except Balkis wasn’t like the other men she’d known.

  Dropping the curtain she climbed out and walked toward the temple door.

  He turned and saw her. ‘Shaan,’ he said. ‘I’ve been waiting for you.’ The stable man walked quickly away as she stopped just short of the well.

  ‘Didn’t I say you couldn’t visit me here?’ she said. It came out more bluntly than she’d intended, but his smile didn’t falter.

  ‘Did you? I don’t remember. Did you receive my gifts?’

  Gone was the rider’s garb. He was wearing a different uniform, one very similar to that of the Faithful: black trousers and a black leather vest, the insignia of a serpent curled around a sword sewn in gold thread above his left breast, his tanned muscular arms left bare. It suited him too well.

  ‘Balkis,’ she said.

  ‘Shaan.’ He rested his hands on his sword belt.

  ‘Stop that.’ She frowned.

  ‘Did you like the perfume? Green is one of your favourite colours, isn’t it?’

  ‘I don’t wear perfume.’

  ‘Of course you do.’ He took a step closer. ‘And stop pretending you’re not happy to see me.’

  ‘I’m not.’

  ‘You are, you can’t help it. I’m handsome and charming.’

  She sighed. ‘Is this how you get all your women? Wear them down with this exhausting persistence?’

  ‘Of course.’ His eyebrows drew together in mock confusion. ‘Then I tie them up and throw them into my cart. I have three at home already; would you like to meet them?’

  Shaan couldn’t help smiling at his audacity. ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure?’ His voice was low and he stepped closer again, reaching out to lightly grip her wrist. His touch was warm, gentle, and the look in his eye inviting. A pulse beat fast in her neck and her stomach suddenly felt light.

  ‘Not now.’ She pulled her wrist from his grip and tried to walk toward the door.

  Moving quickly he blocked her path. ‘Why not?’

  ‘I’m busy, I have to pack.’ She stepped to the right, seeking to pass him.

  ‘Pack?’ He stepped with her, stopping her. ‘Why? Where are you going?’

  ‘The palace.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Balkis.’ She willed herself not to show any emotion. ‘Let me by.’

  ‘Not until you tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘Why should I?’

  ‘Because lovers should have no secrets.’ He reached out to take her hand, and warmth filled her as if she’d had too much wine.

  ‘We’re not lovers,’ she said too loudly, and he smiled, his thumb brushing her palm.

  ‘Not yet.’

  She tried to pull her hand away but he tightened his grip. ‘Admit you like this,’ he said, caressing her palm again. It made her breath catch and he smiled, but his look was too intense and to distract him she said, ‘Why are you wearing those clothes and that insignia?’

  He stopped stroking her hand and glanced at his vest. ‘Rorchas increased my rank. I’m Marshall of Armies now, his second in command.’

  Shaan studied the gold thread, the rearing serpent’s head.

  ‘For the war to come?’

  ‘Yes.’

  At last someone was taking Azoth’s threat seriously. Her heart beat in sudden fear and the pleasant tingling Balkis had induced faded as she felt the weight of the coming destruction closing in on her. If only she hadn’t reached for that Stone. A premonition snapped at her heels, and an image from her dream returned — Azoth’s hand stroking her flesh, his eye gleaming as bright as the gold thread on the serpent.

  ‘Shaan?’ Balkis said, and she started, unaware she’d been staring and was now clutching too hard at his hand.

  She let go and stepped away. ‘I’m fine.’ She avoided his eye. ‘I have to go in. Nilah is waiting for me.’

  ‘The Guardian?’

  ‘She’s offered me a place as her assistant.’

  ‘Her assistant?’ Balkis raised an eyebrow. ‘That’s unusual.’

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Well, I’ve never heard of anyone born outside the merchants’ quarter having a position in the palace before.’ His look was concerned, watchful. ‘What does she expect you to do?’

  ‘Assist her,’ Shaan said, folding her arms.

  ‘With what? The council? They prefer to deal in riddles, you can’t trust what they say.’

  ‘You think I can’t handle their intrigues? That I won’t see through their games?’

  Balkis smiled. ‘Not judging by the string you dangle me on.’

  Shaan felt a flush creep up her neck. ‘What do you mean, then?’

  His smile faded. ‘Just watch your back. That’s what I mean. Think of what happened to the previous Guardian.’

  ‘I’m touched you’re so worried about me, but I can look after myself.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it, but if you need help, or anything at all, just send for me and I’ll come.’

  She didn’t know how to answer that so she looked pointedly at the door, which he was still blocking. ‘She expects me back at the palace this evening,’ she said.

  ‘Of course.’ He stepped back. ‘Best not keep the Guardian waiting.’ He swept a hand out and gave her a mock bow.

  Stopping the smile that rose at his gesture, she walked past and put her hand on the catch then paused, wondering about what he’d said. Balkis was a merchant’s son, his family regular visitors to the palace. He did know how things worked … It would be smart to have a confidant who knew about palace politics. She turned back to find him watching.

  He raised an eyebrow as if he could read her thoughts.

  Before she could change her mind she said, ‘Maybe you could be of use.’ A teasing, seductive look came into his eye and she added, ‘To help me figure out how the palace works. Come and see me tomorrow, in the afternoon, although I’m not sure where I’ll be.’

  ‘I’ll find you,’ he said.

  ‘All right, fine.’ She turned away and fumbled with the door catch, telling herself she was only doing this so she didn’t make a fool of herself at the palace. She pushed open the heavy door and quickly shut it behind her, dropping the metal bar home.

  Chapter 9

  The tally of the dead was eight — five men and three of the women.

  Tallis stood some distance away as the survivors dug the graves, the rain muddying the ground as they piled it. The villagers were afraid of him now, so he’d left Attar to help them prepare and bury their dead.

  More sorrow to come, Marathin said. He glanced at her crouching behind him. She had recovered from the poison without ill effect and the heat from her body made the rain steam when it hit her hide. He smelled her scent of musk and oil.

  She looked down at him from one green eye. Father is angry.

  I don’t care. He was tired of being afraid of Azoth. We have to go.

  It was dawn and Attar and Haraka would start leading the people to Cermez while he went ahead to send soldiers out to meet them, although he doubted any Scanorians would come after them now. Those few that had survived were probably well on their way to telling their master what he’d done.

  The memory of the fight was coming back to him. At first it had been like a dream, a half-remembered impression of fury and power, but now he felt the blood crusted under his fingernails, the hilt of the knife in his hand. It didn’t sicken him as much as it should. Perhaps this was how all warriors were made: their humanity slipping away piece by piece. He remembered the look in the eyes of Clan warriors who came back from battle: haunted, a dimming of life in their gaze. One had told him that each time it became easier to kill, but harder to come back. Tallis felt the remnant of the power still there, under his skin, and thought he understood now what the warrior had
meant.

  ‘Clansman.’ Attar came over to him. ‘You both ready to go?’

  Poison gone, Marathin said to Attar, and the rider’s mouth twitched.

  ‘State the obvious.’

  ‘How will I convince the soldiers to meet you?’ Tallis asked. ‘They won’t know me.’

  Attar handed him a small serpent’s claw carved in bone suspended from a tarnished silver chain. ‘Take this. It’s my rider’s tag; they’ll know it.’

  Tallis fastened it around his neck. ‘One hour, you think?’

  Attar nodded. ‘That’s about all it should take. The patrol’s stationed just outside Cermez. Don’t give ‘em any reason to make trouble.’

  Tallis knew what he meant. Don’t be too clannish, stick to the words Attar had told him to say and leave.

  ‘I’ll see you back in Salmut.’ Attar looked as if he wanted to say something more, but then shook his head and walked back toward the villagers.

  ‘Take care, clansman,’ he called over his shoulder.

  Tallis watched him. Attar hadn’t said anything, but there was now a distance in his eyes, though he was trying not to show it. Tallis pulled himself up onto Marathin’s back. Did Attar see more of Azoth in him now?

  To defeat him, you must become more like him. Marathin twisted her head to look at him sidelong. To be the crest of a great Hive is to be alone.

  He gripped with his thighs. Fly, he commanded, and obediently the serpent sprang into the air, winging away from the people beneath them. He closed his eyes against the rain and joined his blood to hers.

  It took a little under an hour for him to come upon the patrol of two hundred soldiers stationed outside the city of Cermez. The captain was terse but, after seeing Attar’s tag, he sent a dozen men on muthu to meet the villagers. Tallis only stopped long enough for water then flew on to Salmut, arriving back at the Dome before midday.

  As soon as he’d landed he went to Rorc’s quarters. Balkis was there already, wearing a different uniform. Both looked up from the maps they had been studying on the desk as he entered.

  ‘Tallis,’ Rorc said. ‘Where’s Attar?’

  ‘The village had been attacked. Attar stayed to escort the survivors to Cermez. It was Scanorians and an Alhanti. Most of the villagers were dead when we arrived.’

  ‘An Alhanti?’ Rorc’s eyes narrowed.

  ‘Yes, but it’s dead, as are most of the Scanorians.’

  ‘You fought them?’ Balkis said.

  ‘Last night.’

  ‘How many survivors?’ Rorc said.

  ‘Less than eighty. Mostly young men and women. We lost eight last night.’ He hesitated then added, ‘They killed all the children.’

  Balkis dropped the map he’d been holding. ‘All of them?’ He looked shocked but Rorc’s expression betrayed little.

  ‘Tell me everything,’ the Commander said.

  Tallis told him what had occurred, sketching lightly over his own part in the fight, not ready yet to reveal what he had done.

  When he’d finished Rorc turned to Balkis. ‘Go and tell Cyri; we’ll need to talk about this.’

  He turned back to Tallis as Balkis left, and pointed to a chair near his desk. ‘Sit, have a drink. You must be tired.’

  Uneasy, Tallis sat and poured himself a glass of water, drinking it slowly.

  Rorc stared at the papers on his desk. ‘An Alhanti,’ he said quietly. ‘Already.’ He looked at Tallis. ‘Are they as big as it’s said, as strong?’

  ‘It was big,’ Tallis said, ‘taller than most men, and strong; Marathin tossed it to the ground and it still got up. And it had a crest like a serpent’s along its head and neck.’

  Rorc paused, then said, ‘Did you kill it on your own?’

  Tallis’s mouth dried at the question.

  ‘Yes,’ he said quietly.

  ‘How?’

  Tallis shook his head. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘The same way you struck Farris?’

  ‘No, I was … stronger. It felt like power was living in me, part of me. I don’t know how to describe it. It felt …’ Easy was what he was going to say but he wasn’t sure how the Commander would consider that, so he shook his head and said, ‘It was different.’

  Rorc’s expression was full of something Tallis couldn’t quite fathom.

  ‘Come, look here.’ Rorc pointed at the map spread before him. ‘These are all the lands under the Guardian’s control from the border of the Clan Lands to the coast.’

  Leaning forward, Tallis saw red and blue metal pins pressed into certain sections. ‘These are where rogue serpents have attacked,’ Rorc indicated the blue pins, ‘and these are the villages that have been abandoned.’ He touched a red pin, watching him as Tallis surveyed the clustered dots.

  Most of the red pins were north of the Clan Lands, a few were further south toward the Pleth Ranges, one in Ranith Bay and another three closer to Shalnor. Two blue pins were also in the Clan holds themselves. Tallis looked at them, willing himself to feel nothing. One of those dots represented the death of Haldane, the man he had called father.

  He forced himself to look up steadily into Rorc’s face. ‘There are more than I thought.’

  ‘Yes,’ Rorc answered. ‘But no attacks have been as close to the city as the one you witnessed. I thought we had more time, but it seems I’m mistaken.’ He watched him closely. ‘Have you thought on what I said?’

  Tallis felt as if he were back in the Guides Circle under the eyes of his clan. Choose your words carefully, he thought. There is something more going on here.

  ‘My loyalty lies with the living blood of my kin,’ he said. ‘With my sister, my mother, my —’ He almost said my clan, but stopped himself. He no longer had the right to claim that kinship. ‘I will fight for them. The one who claims to be my ancestor doesn’t have that living blood. I don’t acknowledge him.’

  ‘Answered like a true clansman,’ Rorc said softly. ‘The desert ways are hard to discard, aren’t they?’ A beat started in Tallis’s throat and Rorc regarded him for a moment before saying, ‘The council has betrayed me, Tallis. They have taken command of the land army away from me; they don’t believe Azoth is coming. They won’t listen and so we won’t have enough men to defend ourselves against the Fallen when he comes. A journey must be made and I have need of someone who understands how the game must be played.’

  Tallis felt like a bow string pulled to firing point. ‘What are you saying?’

  ‘I’m going to the Clans to seek their aid. We need to unite them, to convince them to fight with us against Azoth.’

  Tallis stared at him. ‘They will not listen to a wetlander,’ he said, but something felt wrong as he said it and Rorc’s lips stretched in a humourless smile.

  ‘Come now, Tallis, I’ve seen the question in your eye. You know what I am.’ He turned his back to him and lifted his shirt, baring the skin at the base of his spine. Tallis’s mouth was dry as he saw the blue tattoo inked deep into the flesh.

  ‘You’re Baal,’ he said, ‘a clansman.’

  Rorc turned back to him. ‘Was Baal, clansman, but I think you’ve long suspected what I am. An Outcast can always recognise another of the fold, can’t they?’ His green eyes were steely. ‘I need a man with me who understands how things are.’

  Tallis stared down at the map on the desk. He was not surprised by Rorc’s admission; he sensed that he had always known it. It was why he had trusted him enough to tell him of Karnit, of his shame. But to unite the Clans, to go back …

  ‘I am not Clan anymore,’ he said. ‘The Guides have deserted me.’

  ‘The Guides are more contrary than you think,’ Rorc said. ‘Haven’t you heard how the Fallen despises them? The Seer told me once that the Clan Lands have always been closed to him because of the Guides. Perhaps they would be happy to see us unite to defy him.’

  ‘Does the Seer know what you are?’

  Rorc half smiled. ‘She suspects but keeps her silence. Other than her, only Morfessa kno
ws the truth about me.’ He leaned forward on the desk. Grim determination and the ghost of an old anger lay behind his eyes. ‘I think we share a common bond, Tallis. Sometimes those who are made Outcast are marked as such due to another’s greed or anger. It is not always just or warranted.’

  ‘What happened to you?’ Tallis dared to ask, but Rorc leaned back. ‘Another’s honour prevents me speaking of it but it was a long time ago. Before you were born. The leader who cast me out would be Kaa’s guest now.’

  ‘But mine is not,’ Tallis said.

  ‘Will you let that stop you? There are more important things now than an old man’s pride or greed.’

  Yes, there were. Tallis thought about his mother, Mailun. Had Karnit returned from the Gathering? Was she safe? If he went with Rorc maybe he could find out. Maybe he could take her away. ‘I’ll have to think about it,’ he said.

  ‘You do that, but I expect an answer tomorrow.’ Rorc sat down and picked up a red pin, then pushed it in to mark the spot on the map where Hilltown had been. ‘Go and see your sister,’ he said. ‘She’s supposed to be going to her new rooms at the palace soon so you will have to hurry.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Nilah has appointed Shaan as her new assistant. She’s moving her to the palace this afternoon.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘She hasn’t told me,’ Rorc said, ‘but it’s not bad timing, we could use someone in the palace keeping an eye on things. If it’s someone we trust.’ He regarded Tallis with speculation.

  ‘You can trust her,’ he said.

  ‘I hope so, I have asked Balkis to suggest it to her.’

  ‘Balkis?’

  ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed his interest in her?’

  ‘It’s hard to miss,’ Tallis said.

  ‘He’s a good man. Don’t let his arrogance confuse you,’ Rorc said. ‘If he cares for you sister he will be as loyal as you. And she’s hardly an innocent.’