Marion Zimmer Bradley's Sword and Sorceress XXII

by Cirone, Patricia B.

  Her thoughts felt sluggish and slow, as if energy was draining out of her. Just standing was an effort, trying to move towards the apparition felt as though she was dragging her feet through thick, oozing mud.

  "What are you doing!" exclaimed Madame Fertaglio. "Sit back down and behave yourself. You're interrupting the reading! All the spirits have fled!

  "Help, these days," she murmured in a lower exasperated tone, becoming aware of the guests staring back and forth between her and the girl. "It's so impossible to find good help these days!"

  "No, he hasn't fled," said Marina. "I wish he would!"

  Someone at the table snorted.

  "You have to listen to me!" cried the murdered Peacemaker.

  A chorus of gasps from the table let Marina know the guests had heard him as clearly as she had. That, and the sudden, overwhelming of energy being sucked right out of her, made her realize what was happening. She was being used as a medium. Not a fake one, like Madame Fertaglio, but a real one. That was the ghost of the Peacemaker, and he was speaking through her.

  She staggered, both from exhaustion and fear. The dark-haired man at the table leapt up and rushed over to her.

  "You need to sit down," he said, pushing her back onto her stool. "You're using up energy too fast. You're not used to this, are you?"

  "I've never... this can't be happening! I don't even believe in spirits!"

  "Will someone please tell me what is going on?" Madame Fertaglio demanded in a loud voice. She, apparently, was one of the few in the room who had not heard the murdered Peacemaker speak.

  "Just relax," the dark-haired man said. "Just let it happen, and it will be easier on you. I've worked with lots of sniffer... er, specialists, and it's the same with them."

  "How can I relax, when that... that bloody apparition is standing right there!" Marina demanded, beginning to feel hysterical.

  "You have to," the man said sharply, and Marina felt her spine stiffen.

  "Please listen to me," the murdered Peacemaker said, in a softer tone, and the gasps at the table turned into soft murmurs of excitement from the guests.

  "Go ahead," said the dark-haired man, standing behind Marina, and holding her steady on the stool.

  "Trying to report, sir," the ghost said, wanly.

  "I know," Aian Donal replied sadly.

  "Kiasie—he's right over there."

  "I know," replied Aian.

  With a sharp noise of disgust, the yellow-haired stranger who had made Marina uneasy, shoved back his chair and got to his feet. "I don't know what you're playing at, but I refuse to be a part of this!" He stormed out of the room.

  "Stop him!" gasped the ghost.

  "Don't worry, he won't get very far," Aian reassured him. "Just tell me what you know, before this young girl collapses from exhaustion."

  Marina stirred beneath his hands. "I'm fine," she said defiantly. She was starting to get the hang of this... she thought. The man behind her had been right about relaxing, and not fighting, the drain of energy. She had more control over it, this way, instead of feeling like a fish on the mudflats, thrashing and gasping for air. But she hadn't liked his reference to the sniffers...

  "Kiasie isn't smuggling black magic spells," the murdered Peacemaker gasped, rushing his words. "He's a spell-caster—a black one—and he's working with Lord Tiebold, there, who is paying him for a whole series of spells to try and overthrow the King!"

  "I say!" sputtered Lord Tiebold. "What nonsense is this!?" But Marina noticed he had turned a sickly, pale gray, with spots of red burning in his cheeks.

  "Sit back down," commanded Aian.

  "They met here to exchange the payment," Jokcelyn's ghost went on. "You'll find an envelope from Lord Tiebold in the drawer in the lobby here, hidden under the payment for this reading. Kiasie was going to lift it when he was leaving, so no one would see it exchange hands. I overheard Kiasie's underling making the arrangement with Lord Tiebold's seneschal. But I must have given myself away, because Kiasie's underling followed me and murdered me."

  "All right, you've done well," said Aian. "It's time for you to head for the follow-grounds, before you get stuck here, in this state. We'll find the proof for this, now that we know what to look for."

  "He stole my gun," said the ghost, fingering the pale, transparent holster at his hip. "And took it back to Kiasie, who has it in his cabin on his ship. He's studying it to see if he can work a black spell on it, and use it for one of the spells Lord Tiebold's commissioned."

  "We'll find it. Now you need to go," said Aian Donal.

  "But..." protested the ghost of Jokcelyn. But Marina, who had been studying the cord of energy leaving from her, as well as paying attention to the conversation, quietly but firmly pinched it off.

  The young Peacemaker looked surprised for a moment, then relieved, as he faded away to nothingness.

  "Good girl," said Aian.

  "I'm not a girl," Marina said sharply.

  "Ahh, you'll make a feisty sniffer," Aian said approvingly.

  "I'm no sniffer!"

  "Ah, sorry. Specialist. None of you lot like to be called sniffers."

  "I'll agree I might be a medium. But I'm not, and never will be a sniffer!"

  "Well, that's for the future to see, but you've got the talent. And the nose for trouble."

  "That's the part I don't understand. If I can do something like... like this, how come it's never happened to me before?"

  "Well, most of you... specialists... have to start with a bit of a spell—lucky, or you'd be walking about hearing voices and seeing things from the otherside all the time. Drive you crazy. Does, to some of those who can do it without touching a spell. Did you buy any love potion or some such recently?"

  "Of course not!" Marina replied huffily. "What would I want with one of those!"

  "Well, you must have touched or swallowed something that was magicked within the last few hours," Aian said.

  That drop of liquid that spilled, Marina thought, and looked down at her hand. Then she closed her other hand over it, as if the drop could still be seen, and glanced over at Madame, who was sitting at her own table, looking like a stuffed trout. Well, she'd just keep quiet about Madame's little vial. She didn't want to be a sniffer, which meant she needed to keep this job. At least for now...

  "I must have touched something down at the market, when I was buying the food for tonight," Marina said. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Madame Fertaglio relax a bit. Though she still didn't look very... happy.

  "Shouldn't you be chasing after that Kiasie man?" Marina asked, changing the subject.

  "No. I told the men I brought with me and the ones I ran into who were following Kiasie to detain him if he left here before I did. I expect we'll find him, and Lord Tiebold's little envelope full of money, safely in custody. We'll pick up Jokcelyn's gun from his cabin and have the sniffers go over it for spells and anything else they can find, and we should have a nice tight case against Kiasie."

  "I never paid him any money!" Lord Tiebold protested. "You've made all this up, you and your... your sniffer, there!"

  "I'm sure we'll get all this straightened out to everyone's satisfaction," Aian said cheerfully, in a tone that did not seem to cheer Lord Tiebold up at all.

  He moved over to collect the older man and escort him towards the door. The remaining guests began to ease back from the edges of their chairs. Miss Sebrings fluttered over to Marina.

  "Are you going to be doing the readings, now?" she asked, in a whispery, excited tone.

  "That will be up to Madame Fertaglio," Marina said politely. "I'm just her apprentice," elevating herself about three rungs from general dogsbody and maid of all work.

  Madame Fertaglio reared up from her chair like a whale breaching the water. "Yes, you're coming along quite nicely, dear, but I think we'll have to spend a bit more time with practice before you do another session. Very... chaotic. Not very professional, at all, you know. But you're coming along."

  "Tha
nk you, Madame," Marina replied, already planning a few other changes in her terms of employment.

  Night Watches

  by Catherine Soto

  Catherine Soto's work first appeared in SWORD & SORCERESS 21 with a story in which Lin Mei and her brother acquired a pair of kittens while traveling with a caravan. Now they're in winter quarters and have more problems than just hired assassins—and I still think there's something strange about those cats....

  Catherine says that she wants to write a novel about these characters. One way to produce a novel is to keep writing short stories about the same characters. It worked for Mercedes Lackey.

  #

  The courtyard was empty, bathed in moonlight, and serene in the stillness. Even so, there was an air of menace about it. Lin Mei shivered in her quilted jacket. She rested her hand on the hilt of her sword, drawing some comfort from it. The companion dagger rested in the sash next to it. They were smaller twins to her brother's sword and dagger, and their blades gave the two of them unparalleled fighting power. But something in the night made her uneasy nevertheless.

  "Another bad dream?" her brother said behind her. Biao Mei also wore a quilted jacket and his sword and dagger. Tragedy had taught them harsh lessons; neither went out unarmed.

  She nodded. "The same one. It's the third time in three nights."

  "The snake again?"

  "It does not seem to be malevolent," she said. "But it is dangerous." She heard him sigh. Although he had fifteen to her seventeen years, he had taken over the role of her protector, which she did not mind, since he was stocky and strong, although she was stronger and tougher than her willowy form suggested. Still, she often had to do the thinking for both of them, and then convince him that the result was his idea.

  "Not malevolent, but dangerous," he mused. "At least it's not both. Thank Heaven for small graces," he said ironically.

  Annoyed, she made a sudden decision. "Let's see to the cats," she said. "I want to be certain they are safe." Without waiting for agreement she went down the stairs of the veranda and started across the courtyard to the stables...and stopped after only a few steps, the hair on the back of her neck rising. Biao Mei froze beside her, his hand on the hilt of his sword. So he felt it too....

  "Back to the veranda," he whispered. Silently they retraced their steps to the barracks for the compound's guards, which was their home—and occupation—for the winter. With their backs to the door, and a roof over them, they could observe any potential attack.

  "Left," she whispered. He nodded. So, it was not only in her mind....

  Unmoving, save for their eyes, they both carefully examined the courtyard, then checked the roofs of the adjoining buildings. Lin Mei spoke first.

  "Footprints in the sand," she whispered. Her brother nodded. They moved down the veranda toward the small sand garden at one end of the courtyard. They slowed as they neared the sand, making some distance between them as they did so, enough to allow a free swing of their swords but not so much as to allow either to be cut off from the other.

  The prints were clear, if few. Three human footprints, leading from the paved area of the courtyard to the water-worn river stone at the other end. Biao Mei pointed at the door just before them, which opened on the storage area where goods unloaded from caravans were kept. It was always kept locked. Now it was slightly ajar.

  "Should we call the alarm?" Lin Mei asked softly. Biao Mei shook his head.

  "Let's first see if there is reason to," he said. There was a soft click as he loosened his sword in its scabbard.

  The door opened silently on well-oiled hinges as he pushed. The interior was dark, illuminated only by moonlight coming in through narrow windows near the ceiling. He led the way, eyes scanning the darkness.

  A dark mass fell from the ceiling above him. His body dropped into a quick roll forward, sending him and his attacker to the floor in a tangle. Lin Mei drew her sword, but hesitated until she could differentiate between her brother and his attacker.

  That moment saved her life, as she became aware that someone had come behind her. She dropped automatically to one knee, stabbed backward over her head, and was rewarded with a pained grunt. Not waiting to see what or whom she had struck, she jerked her sword free and rolled forward into the darkness.

  She came up against her brother and his attacker, still locked in combat. A felt boot knocked against her head. It was Biao Mei's. The split toed boots of thick cloth must therefore belong to his opponent. There was no room for the sword, so she drew her dagger and stabbed as hard as she could at the man's calf.

  Her brother took advantage of the distraction to draw his dagger and strike. A ghastly death hiss, followed by a rattling cough, told her that his blow had been fatal. Their lives had encompassed enough death that she knew the sounds. She came to her feet and swung her sword in an arc through the darkness to ensure that the area about her was clear of any danger.

  "I think we can give the alarm now," her brother said.

  * * * *

  "Anshazhe," Shin Hu, the caravan master, said, using the toe of his boot to prod the body of the man Biao Mei had killed. The first rays of the sun were starting to filter in through the windows. The dead man was clothed all in black. His mask had been ripped off to reveal a nondescript face. His sword had been kicked to one side.

  "I think I hit another," Lin Mei said, indicating a splash of blood on the floor near the door. Shin Hu nodded, eyeing the blood.

  "How is it that you were up?" he asked.

  "I had a bad dream," Lin Mei replied. "I went outside for some air. Biao Mei followed, and we saw the opened door." Shin Hu eyed her closely.

  "We met these scum on the road here," he noted. "Now they appear here in Kendar." He looked down at the dead man. "Anshazhe," he said, "are hired assassins, deadly fighters. You are fortunate to encounter two and survive."

  "What were they doing here? " Biao Mei asked.

  "That is a very good question," Shin Hu said. "They are not normally thieves. Murder for hire is their trade."

  "They were not alone," Hua Chan said, coming in. "The tracks in the sand were not theirs." He motioned with his lance and they all followed him outside. The morning light illuminated the sand garden. He pointed with his lance at the prints. "Those tracks were made by bare feet. The Anshazhe wear cloth boots."

  "Another mystery," Shin Hu said.

  * * * *

  Two hours later, with breakfast and a pot of tea in their bellies, Lin Mei and Biao Mei were in the stables. "They seem well," Biao Mei said, eyeing the kittens in the basket in an unused stall.

  Lin Mei squatted, a finger poking softly at two of the kittens. The other three were cute, striped like little tigers, but the two she was interested in were cream colored with dark faces, paws, ears, and tails. Despite the differences, all were suckled by the mother cat lying on the blanket that lined the basket. She had adopted the two orphans that Lin Mei and Biao Mei had found in an abandoned temple in the mountains above Kendar when Shin Hu's caravan spent a night there. Lin Mei had named the male Shadow and the female Twilight.

  Hua Chan came in, his lance in hand. "Shin Hu wants to see you. The Magistrate's men are here and you two are to make a statement." They followed the lancer to the main hall.

  Wang Liu, the merchant who had taken the caravan into his household for the rainy season, was there also.

  The Magistrate's men were two clerks and two armsmen. Statements were taken, a few perfunctory questions were asked, and the official party departed, taking the dead man with them.

  "Is that all?" Lin Mei asked. Wang Liu looked at her for a moment.

  "I don't think so," he replied. "Sin Wai Tsu, who is the District Governor, is no fool. If questions were scant it is because knowledge is not. At least, not in his quarters." He stopped to take a sip of tea. "But I would know more. Why were Anshazhe in my storeroom?"

  "Your clerks report nothing missing," Shin Hu said.

  "There is also the matter of the footpr
ints on the sand, which do not match the boots worn by the Anshazhe," Hua Chan noted. He lounged by the door, his lance still in his hand.

  "Truth," Wang Liu said. "The women's quarters were locked, and the prints were made by bare feet. Women in this compound do not go barefoot."

  "Mysteries," Shin Hu noted. "I dislike mysteries. We will have a full guard at night until this matter is resolved." Wang Liu nodded, and the meeting broke up.

  Lin Mei and her brother decided to get something to eat. They went to the kitchen, where they got steaming bowls of rice and noodles, and went to sit on the barracks' veranda to eat.

  "May I join you?" a voice asked. They looked up to see a woman, dressed in a divided skirt and quilted leather jacket.

  "You are—?" Lin Mei asked, her hand motioning to a spot next to them.

  "Ro Min," the woman replied, sinking gracefully to a seated position. "Of the household." Lin Mei nodded. She had seen her and another woman around the compound; they were bodyguards attached to the women's quarters. "Much excitement last night, we hear."

  "Anshazhe, hired killers," Biao Mei said. "Two of them, and one got away."

  "And mysterious footprints not left by either," Ro Min noted. "I examined them earlier. They don't match anyone here. Too slender." Lin Mei nodded. Ro Min was seeking information, trading what she knew for whatever Lin Mei and her brother might know. She noted that Ro Min, despite being a bit more muscular than most women, was nonetheless attractive, and that Biao Mei was warming to her. She suppressed a smile. She would work it to her advantage.

  "Has any knowledge been gained of the Anshazhe Biao Mei killed?" she asked.

  Ro Min shook her head slowly. "Anshazhe do not work this far from the capital. There are quarrels here, sometimes fatal, but people do their own killing." She nodded at Biao Mei. "They are dangerous. Good work killing one." Biao Mei actually blushed.

  "What would bring them this far west?" she asked. Ro Min shrugged.

  "Money, power, political intrigue. All the same thing, actually. Kendar has grown in this generation. It is no longer the frontier border town it used to be. The Khans have unified the mountain kingdoms to the South, and peace has brought more trade. There is now more to fight over."