“Two things you should know,” I said. “First, magic is complicated, and not something for amateurs to play with.”
I heard an anguished cry from the mage and a slight popping sound in the air as the shield disappeared. Leonidas sucked in air and struggled to his feet. “And second, I have a message for you,” I said, pulling powder from my holsters and sending the grains spinning into the air. I intoned the words, different this time. “Carath Erras.”
The blast tore through Leonidas like a hurricane through a canyon. The major looked down at his stomach and saw the bleeding wreck of his insides threatening to come out. Instinctively his hands pressed against the wound, but it was far too big and far too deep to do any good. I knelt down next to him and whispered in his ear. “The old man says goodbye.”
I’d like to believe that those were the last words Leonidas heard before he went to his ancestors. It would warm me on cold nights to think that he knew, right at that last moment, in the gate between this life and whatever comes next, that the red and black fires that had eaten through his belly and destroyed all his grand plans had come from the old man’s tongue. Erras had won the final duel.
But by then Leonidas was probably already dead.
38
Gratitude
The death of Leonidas very nearly sparked my decapitation right then and there. When his men realised he had lost, they raised their weapons and came for me.
“Stop!” the sergeant shouted.
The men froze.
“Parade formation!” he shouted again.
The soldiers quickly stepped into four rows of ten behind their leader. He walked forward and knelt in front of Mariadne.
“Countess Mariadne,” he said. “I am Sergeant Tarius. What is your command?”
I’ve never been a soldier. Maybe it’s because of the shadow-black and all the old tales that say that one day a demon is going to take over my body and use it to commit atrocities, but I don’t understand what makes one person willing to subvert his will to that of another. Then again, the way Tarius and all the soldiers with him were able to overcome their anger over their leader’s death and their hatred for me in order to honour Leonidas’s last command? You had to admire it.
Mariadne looked from him, to me, and over to Leonidas’s body. A look of uncertainty quickly changed to resolve. “Take him,” she said. “Bury him with what military honours you see fit. Have the men set their camp outside the boundary of my home. You will join me tomorrow to discuss strategy for protecting Urbana Sarrix from further raids by the Zhuban.”
Tarius stood and saluted. “Understood, countess.”
He turned and ordered six of his men to carry Leonidas out of the courtyard.
Mariadne knelt down before me and took my hand. “Thank you,” she said. “For me and for my poor old Erras. Thank you.”
“Get up, your ladyship. People will think you’re sweet on me.”
Reichis rejoined us, blood covering his face and snout.
“You kill him?” I asked.
He shook his head, and I noticed a bit of something white and goopy coming out between his teeth that looked uncomfortably like part of an eyeball. “Jush took shumthin’ to remember him by,” Reichis mumbled.
Mariadne gave me an indulgent look. “Still imagining your weasel talks to you?” she said, humour in her voice.
Reichis swallowed, then growled.
“Oh, please,” she said, looking down at him and wagging her finger. “I know you understand what I’m saying, so I have to believe you can take a joke now and then.”
Reichis turned and walked away from us. “I’d rather be huntin’ cellar rats.”
As we entered Mariadne’s home I fell to my knees and threw up on what looked like a very old rug.
“Kellen! Are you hurt?”
One of Mariadne’s retainers stood by—a boy with a round face whose serious expression made me think of Erras. “Countess,” he said, “shall I fetch a physician from town?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“But you—”
“It’s nothing.” I pushed myself to my feet. “Sorry about the rug.” I was shaking uncontrollably and already I could feel tears streaming down my cheeks. The boy offered me water, which I guzzled down until it rid me of the sour taste in my mouth.
Mariadne’s eyes were wide, searching my face as if she didn’t believe I was unhurt. “Are you sure? Is it the magic you do? Are you in pain?”
“No,” I said. “It’s just the delayed terror catching up with me.”
“I can’t believe that,” she said. “The way you fought Leonidas… It was like watching a hero from one of the old sagas come to life.”
That made me laugh. “I don’t think any of the Daroman legends looked much like me,” I said, pointing to my left eye.
“Maybe they should have,” she said. She threw her arms around me and held me so tightly I had trouble drawing a breath. “You’re a hero to this house. You’re a hero to me.”
She let me go but I still found it hard to catch my breath. “I…”
She took my hand and interlaced her fingers into mine. “Ask me, Kellen Argos. Ask me for anything and it is yours.”
Ask me for anything. Somehow the words took all the pleasure out of me, and I remembered who I was. A commoner. An outlaw. Sure, I’d done her a service and she was grateful. So grateful that she was eager to balance the scales, the way a good customer always pays their bills on time.
“I’m sorry,” she said, her hand still holding mine. “That sounded awful, didn’t it?” She took in a long, slow breath, and let it out just as slowly. “For so long I’ve not been able to count on anyone except Tasia and Erras. Since Arafas died my life has been a series of proposals and threats, bribes and ultimatums. Every man who has come to this door has done so offering me something of value, but wanting something much more precious in return. And now you come along with your strange manner and your talking squirrel cat and your brave, brave soul.” She withdrew her left hand from mine and put it on my cheek. “I meant no offence when I thanked you, Kellen.” She pulled me in close and kissed me on the lips.
I’ve been kissed before. Infrequently, true, but I did feel as if I had some points of comparison. Nephenia was the first, and the first time with her had been such a shock I couldn’t really remember the sensation. Come to think of it, the second time she’d kissed me I’d thought she was some guy I’d helped save from Berabesq religious fanatics, so that had been pretty unexpected too. With Seneira, it had started as a way of helping her break the hold of the mystical torments that had been placed on her, and then become a kind of desperate relief from the pain. This was different.
Mariadne’s kiss was warm and sweet and hungry. She was older than I was, more comfortable in her skin. She wasn’t trying to make a grand statement or hold anything back. She knew what she wanted, and took from me as much as I took from her. I felt her hands slide up my arms, my neck, and finally her fingers wound their way into my hair, knocking my hat to the ground. My own hands were around her waist, pulling her in close, trying not to pull too hard.
I heard Reichis come to the door, sniff, grunt and then turn away. I ignored him. I ignored everything just to fall into that kiss as long and as deep as I could. Mariadne’s desire was palpable. It was real, and knowing. She wants me, I thought Not out of love or expectation or gratitude. She just wants me as I am. It wasn’t something a shadowblack like me ever expects to feel.
A man shouldn’t feel triumphant at a moment like this. That’s what Ferius would’ve said. But I couldn’t help it. My sister in all her arrogance had informed me that I’d be the death of Mariadne, but she was here, alive, in my arms. Leonidas, the man of violence—the knight of blades who Tasia had warned planned to destroy me—was dead. This, then, was what it felt like to be a hero. To not be reviled on sight, but admired. Desired, even. I knew it was petty of me, but I couldn’t keep the thought out of my head: I won.
Mariadn
e pulled away unexpectedly, but stayed close, her head buried in my chest. “We should…” She hesitated.
“Stop?” I asked.
Mariadne shook her head. Her hair tickled my nose. “Go upstairs.”
I almost made a joke. I almost said that Reichis made me promise not to make hump-hump with the bitch countess. That’s the kind of idiot I am on a daily basis. But not today. I took Mariadne’s hand. “Lead the way.”
She pulled me towards the stairs, but I heard someone running along the path towards the door. “Wait,” I said, letting go of her hand and flipping open my powder holsters.
Marshal Bracius ran in through the door with Fen in tow. I took a pinch of the red and black powders. I had no reason to believe the marshals would have any interest in avenging Leonidas, but then I remembered what Tasia had said about the cards and the king of chariots. A man of secrets, she’d said. If that man was Colfax, head of the marshals service, I might have a serious problem on my hands.
“Countess Mariadne,” Bracius said. She was breathing hard. “We must speak. Now.”
Mariadne held up a hand. “No, marshal. The duel was fairly fought. You put your name on the contract yourself. If there is a price to be paid for this, I’ll pay it. But not now. Not today.”
“Yes, countess, but that’s not it. My man Fen has arrived from the prison.”
I looked at Fen. His eyes weren’t angry or determined or filled with anything I might’ve expected. They were sad. “I’m sorry, but your maid, Tasia, I found her in her cell,” he said. “She’s…”
I don’t know whether it was squeamishness, politeness, or fear of reprisal that kept him from finishing his sentence, but it didn’t matter. The look in his eyes made it plain what word he’d left out.
39
The Rewards of Loyalty
I was grateful that they’d taken the time to take down Tasia’s body before letting us in. Instead of seeing her companion hanging by a rope made from her own dress and tied to the bars of the small window near the ceiling, Mariadne’s first sight was of Tasia covered by a sheet, lying peacefully on the sleeping pallet.
Fen handed me a deck of cards.
“She left these on the table. There weren’t nothing else. No note, nothing. Reckon they belong to you, card player.”
I nodded, grateful for the small, simple gesture. The cards were in a bit of disarray—a few turned wrong ways up on the top of the deck. I stuffed the deck into my pocket and turned back to Mariadne.
“Damn the queen,” she said, her face full of tears. “Damn her for this.”
Those words alone would have been enough to make Mariadne the new occupant of this cell, but Bracius was gentle when she said, “My lady, I swear to you on my honour, it was Tasia herself who—”
“No!” Mariadne screamed. “I don’t care what you say. I don’t care if she put the noose around her own neck. It was the queen who did this. She lied to me.”
“It was Leonidas who put Tasia in here,” I said.
“Leonidas is gone! You killed him, and now—now Tasia is dead? The queen must have ordered this. She—”
Bracius spun around and walked out of the room like it was on fire.
“Don’t you walk away from me, you coward!” Mariadne shouted.
I put a hand on the countess’s shoulder and she tried to pull away, but I kept a hard grip on her.
“She left the room for you,” I said. “She left because if you keep spouting treason in her presence she’ll have no choice but to arrest you.”
“I don’t care,” she cried. “I don’t care about any of it any more. They took Arafas. They took Erras. Now Tasia… Kellen, they won’t stop until I’m all alone.”
I wrapped my arms around her as tight as I could, and held her there as she cried into my shoulder and railed at the world. Eventually the fading light of the afternoon sun took the last of her energy with it, and she said softly into my ear, “Take me back, Kellen. I want to go back.”
“I’ll take you home,” I said.
“No. There’s nothing for me there. Take me to the queen.”
“She’s returned to the capital by now, Mariadne. You can’t go to the palace like this. We need to—”
“Just help me to see the queen, Kellen. Please.”
“How? What are we going to do? Jump on a horse and ride for two days without food, water or clothing?”
She was silent, and for a moment I thought I might have persuaded her. “The soldiers—Leonidas’s men—they’ve sworn allegiance to me now. They’ll take us to the Northern Detachment and from there to the capital.”
“First of all, those aren’t regular soldiers; they’re Leonidas’s personal guard. They don’t get to order the Northern Detachment to do anything. Second, they have a word for suddenly turning up at the palace with forty private guards and a bad attitude. It’s called an attempted coup.”
“Then help me, Kellen. Give me a better idea. But don’t tell me to go home. Don’t tell me to let this stand, because I can’t. Tasia is dead, and someone must answer for it. I will take her body with me to the capital and lay her at the queen’s feet until my beloved cousin explains to me why I should suffer my companion’s death as meekly as I did my husband’s.”
I wanted to tell her to let it go. Tasia was dead and nothing we could do would bring her back. Whether she had killed herself to protect the queen, or whether the queen had somehow arranged it to keep her silent, none of it mattered now.
Except, I guess it did.
“We need help,” I said finally. “Someone with resources who can help us reach the capital safely and make sure we get in to see the queen.”
Mariadne looked up at me and wiped the tears from her eyes. “Who?”
“Someone who’s rather well respected but somewhat ignored,” I replied.
40
Fatherly Advice
“No, my dear,” Count Martius said, later that night as he waved us into his villa. “An old fool I may be, but not a compete one.”
“How do you even know what we’re here for?” I asked.
Reichis gave a snort. “Because for a skinbag, he’s a savvy bastard.” The squirrel cat ambled into the house. “Probably knew about Tasia’s death before we did.”
Martius motioned for us to sit on the divan before slumping heavily into his own chair. “You just killed the commander of the Northern Detachment in a duel, tutor of cards,” he said. “Word spreads fast when the world stands on its end.”
“We’re not here about that,” Mariadne said. “It’s—”
“Tasia,” Martius interrupted. “Forgive me, dear. That news has reached me too. It’s not often a prisoner kills themselves only hours after receiving a reprieve from a death sentence.”
“Then you know it was murder,” Mariadne said.
“I know no such thing, countess.”
“Then how? Why?”
Martius shrugged. “Who can say? Not I, certainly.” He pointed at her. “And not you either.” He favoured her with something more akin to a father’s smile than the acknowledgement of an equal. “Tell me, countess, what good will any of this bring you? Will it make the moon set sooner or the sun rise any higher in the sky?”
“It will bring justice to Tasia, Count Martius. That is enough.”
“Justice. Justice. Young people love words like ‘justice’ and ‘truth’ and ‘love’. Let me tell you something, both of you: Tasia has no need for your justice. It will not bring her one ounce of satisfaction. And it will weigh you down with a thousand pounds of sorrow, I promise you.”
Mariadne rose from the divan and hugged herself. It occurred to me that she had barely looked at me in the time since we’d left the jail. “So what would you have me do, Martius? Go back to my keep? Sit there and wait each day until whoever caused Tasia’s death decides that I too am an inconvenience that needs to disappear? Is it all my fault? Should I have married Leonidas and suffered him for a husband?”
Martius seemed to wei
gh his words carefully, but eventually he simply said, “Yes.”
Mariadne spun around and I found myself on my feet. “You can’t be serious,” I said.
“Oh? And why not? Would it have made such a terrible match?” He ignored me and addressed Mariadne. “Leonidas was on track to become the most respected and powerful man in Darome before our friend here put an end to him. You, countess, are beloved by many, and are of royal blood. You could have been the second most powerful woman in the country.”
“Or perhaps the first?” I asked quietly.
Martius looked to me. He nodded. “Perhaps. There’s no question that Leonidas had ambition without limits. The nobility aren’t happy with the fact that the queen is so young and seems determined to keep the peace, regardless of the danger Zhuban poses to our security.”
“Or to your pockets,” I said.
“Ah, true. Very true. Darome has always relied on conquest, and so has its nobility.”
“Then why don’t they just assassinate her?” I asked.
“Have you met Colfax? The man keeps a hundred games going at once. Finds every possible threat to the queen and uses those marshals of his to snuff them out. No, a coup against the queen would take years of planning. And even if it was successful, they’d still need to get her to abdicate.”
“Abdicate? If they took the palace, why would they need her to abdicate?”
Mariadne turned to Martius. “The throne. It’s because of the throne, isn’t it?”
“Yes, the grand Daroman royal throne. Just about the only remaining piece of magic left from the early days of the empire. They say it’ll burn a man to cinders unless he holds the royal spirit. If the queen dies, who knows whom it’ll pass to? Could be anyone in the imperial lineage. If she abdicates though, whoever she gives the throne to forges a new line of Daroman rulers.”
“You believe all this?” I asked. Even for someone who came from a culture of magic, it sounded superstitious.
Martius shrugged. “Hardly matters if I accept the legend, does it? Only matters if everyone else does.”
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