by Amy Little
“Do not fear me. Return.”
It occurred to Annika that they both had feared each other in this encounter, but all she could give the woman now was a hurried nod before she quickly crossed the road, blinking in the sudden brightness that assaulted her senses, which had been dulled by the dark, dingy shop.
She heard Zak’s voice, and guided herself towards it.
Inside the armorer’s store, Zak was loudly discussing the benefits of steel alloys with the bald man. Both men were gesticulating heatedly, clearly enjoying the exchange of views.
Annika hovered outside, trying not to smile at Zak’s animation. Seeing him, dispelled what darkness she had felt inside the shop. To stop herself from thinking about the woman she had just met, Annika tried to work out what was the object Zak and the armorer were arguing over, but despite leaning in so that she was in danger of toppling into the open basement, she could not, until after a few minutes Zak emerged, puffed, and smiling proudly.
In Zak’s hands he held a small, burnished steel arm-guard with streaks of gold running through it like thunder bolts. He showed it to Annika. “Just right for a woman’s hand, for it’s not too long; it covers only the wrist and half of the forearm. Don’t be fooled by the simple design! This is superior workmanship.”
“For whom is it?” Annika asked.
“A friend. A lady friend.” He grinned.
The lack of elaboration made Annika frown with a small, almost imperceptible flash of jealousy.
Zak laughed. He took her by the hand.
Carried by his laughter, Annika let herself be led. She felt happy, and careless, and free. It’s seemed like years since she last felt so light. It was a pleasant feeling.
They went into a tavern tucked around the corner from a large plaza. The one story tavern was sandwiched in between a warehouse and a four-storied, ugly residential building. Inside, it was dark and warm and hushed, with a fire pit on which roasted the day’s offering.
“It’s like a chapel here,” said Annika, speaking quietly.
“Can’t say I’ve been in one of those in years. But here it’s warm, and the bread is the best you can buy in Karrum,” said Zak.
Immediately on their arrival, a middle aged woman in an apron appeared and led them to a table at the back of the single hall. The paucity of windows – there were only two in the entire hall – and the large fire pit in the middle, around which the tables and benches were positioned, gave the hall an intimate air.
At the table, Zak leaned in and kissed her on the lips.
Still feeling the happiness and the lightness from before, Annika did not refuse him. She did say, however, “So much for the Council wanting prudence from the noble-born.”
“Prudence isn’t fun. But presents are.” Zak took out the armguard that he had bought. “The armorer tells me it was made in the age of the Vranos, when torrents of magic swirled around the world. The thunderbolts are supposed to represent magic, frozen in time. It’s for you.”
“So I was the lady friend?” said Annika, trying not to sound too pleased.
“There is no one else.”
She accepted the present. “Thank you.” She examined the detailed work around the armguard, which showed tall, thin people riding three-headed creatures. Looking closer, Annika was surprised to see that these were the same creatures as the statue in the courtyard of Zak’s academy. Then the spectacular gold streaks embedded in the metal attracted her attention. There was no doubt of the antiquity of the thing. Annika felt the urge to use her magic to probe the armguard, but resisted the temptation. Lately, she has been finding herself drawn too much to using the power.
While she was looking at the present, Zak took a lock of her hair and twisted it around his finger absently.
Annika placed the brace in her bag. The flickering light from the fire, the silently eating faces, and the dark, removed some of her earlier lightness of feeling. She wanted to be serious. “Tell me about your falling out with your House,” she asked.
Zak let go of her lock. He looked at her carefully, before replying. “For some years, I was in the Imperial Army. I started at seventeen, with two of my uncles, when I received a division of the House of the Wolf. I was the youngest brigadier, and when I was made general three years later, I was the youngest general in the last hundred years.”
“So far so good,” said Annika, tearing off a piece of a loaf that the tavern keeper had brought over. Zak had been right about the bread. It was the best she had ever tasted.
“I led the army for another two years without a hitch. We fought, we won. There were numerous skirmishes, some battles, one or two campaigns. Then, last year we started a campaign at the northern front. Every year, the northern tribes venture down for a spell of raiding and pillaging. Do you know much about that?”
Annika nodded. “When I was in the riverlands, there was once an influx of farmers fleeing their lands.”
“In response, we mounted a counter-attack. My army scoured the mountain passes. We routed their fighters, overran their settlements. We signed two peace treaties with the main tribes.” Zak stopped.
“Go on,” Annika urged, taking another piece of bread.
“Then I received orders from the Emperor. He did not want peace. He wanted the tribes eradicated. He wanted them all put to the sword.”
Annika choked. When she finished coughing, she asked, in a small voice, “All?”
“All the men, women, children. He wanted none spared.”
Annika waited, the bread in her hand, her eyes on him.
“I refused. I let the tribesmen go, told them of what their fate will be if they are captured again, and directed them to the northern deserts where the Imperial forces could not reach them. Then I returned to Karrum, where I surrendered command.”
Annika thoughtfully said, “That was compassionate. Yet I recall the minor branches of the House of the Tiger were razed five years ago without pity.”
“Not by me. Not by my House,” he quickly replied.
“Vultures,” Annika said. “And now they are together with the snakes…”
Zak placed his warm hand over her fingers.
Annika let him hold her, feeling herself cold and brittle. “What did your House say? Were you not court martialed?”
Zak laughed. “My House is the most populous, after the Rams of course. My father, for instance, has seven sons. Four of them already have their own families, with some of my nephews not much younger than I. In short, plenty of replacements. So within the family, there were few repercussions.”
“But the Emperor’s wrath…”
“Was limited. There was no court martial. He needs my House’s armies and tax revenue. Besides, my father’s too savvy to lose influence over a mishap like this. After all, as he rightly claimed, the campaign overall was a success. I dislike my old man, but credit where it is due – he has a silver tongue. So much so that there was talk of the Emperor refusing my resignation and reinstating my command.”
“Would you go back?”
“No. I told my father I would never again serve in the Emperor’s army.”
“I’m glad you’re not politically minded,” she said. The politics of Karrum was what she liked the least. She found the constant jostling for power and influence repellent.
Zak nodded. “I have other things to occupy me. The military school, for instance. Then I met you. Now, all my story needs is a ‘happy ever after’ ending.”
“Very amusing,” said Annika, feeling a little flushed for some reason at his last comment. She glanced around to take away the heat.
Four tables to the side and slightly behind them sat two men. They wore the customary black cloak of the mercenary, with their hoods up over their heads despite the warmth. Before them stood a platter of meat and two beers. They weren’t eating. One man was busy scanning the hall. The other seemed to be looking in the direction of Zak and Annika.
They sat in the shade, so that Annika could not see them. Still, she thought there
was something familiar about the man that was looking at them. She also found their presence disconcerting. Annika felt herself shiver. She caught Zak’s eye. “One of the men to our left is taking great attention in us.”
Zak smiled. “I’ve noticed.”
Annika somehow felt reassured.
After a few minutes, the music changed. The boy with a barely-audible flute at the far end of the hall was replaced by a thick-set man with a harmonica. The strains of music now grew louder and upbeat, leaping and plunging, their twinkling, bright sounds piercing the dim hall with rays of happiness.
Annika and Zak listened and ate in silence. Zak finished first. He ate quietly and quickly, finishing everything on his trencher before Annika, then waiting for her to finish before leading her to the dance floor.
As they swirled, Annika noticed around them two men from the riverlands, in long green cloaks that were customarily worn there; five soldiers from the night watch, who looked like they had not slept since their last shift; and a woman who looked like she had enjoyed the beer a little too much, and was laughing constantly in a high-pitched voice at the jokes made by her slight, mustachioed companion.
Annika danced with reservation first, then with increasing abandon. She felt Zak’s body close to hers, his breath on her cheek, before he would step away only to return twirling her unexpectedly to the upbeat tune. Once or twice she caught the glimpse of the two dour hooded men at the back of the hall, but somehow, being next to Zak, and in the heat of the dance, they did not scare her as much.
Zak’s eyes looked deep into hers, and at that moment Annika felt that she was the only one in the world for him and he for her.
Annika didn’t think she would enjoy it quite so much, having rarely danced before, but when the music stopped she felt a pang of sadness.
Zak had his hand around her as they returned to the table.
Annika blushed after she sat down and thought how dissolute she must have seemed, dancing in a tavern like this. Then she told herself that she had nothing to be embarrassed about. She was young. She deserved to enjoy herself, a little. A slight prickle at the edge of her consciousness made her check behind her again.
The two men were in the same spot. Now the other man was scanning the room, while his comrade watched her and Zak from under his cowl.
Annika felt worried now. She looked to Zak.
Zak was busily finishing the leftover food on her trencher.
Not even the danger she felt emanate from the two men could prevent her from noticing how handsome Zak was. She felt she could watch him do something as mundane as eat for the rest of the day. It felt oddly pleasurable in a way she had never experienced. Then her eyes lighted on his sword, and this flash of reality made her mood darken.
“What’s the matter?” asked Zak, looking up and sensing the change in her.
“Does danger worry you?”
Zak thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Never. What I can, I deal with. What I can’t deal with, worries me not.”
“That seems a trifle unfeeling,” she said.
“I’m all for feelings. Except when they get in the way,” he said, smiling as though he had not a concern in the world.
At first, she wanted to refute him. What he had said somehow felt threatening. Would he be insensible to her? Yet, wasn’t that what she wanted, she reminded herself. Eventually, she said, “You know, I hated you when you were so sensible about my giving my father and Cara a chance. When you said not to take their words for granted.”
Zak calmly waited for her to continue.
“Then, I was furious when I saw Cara at the lake.”
He nodded.
“I may have said things to you that weren’t… that I don’t…”
“Shush,” he said, lifting a finger to her lips. “Say no more.” They sat across from one another, looking at each other. And once more, Annika felt safe with him; safe, warm, and happy.
They walked to her inn, taking a different route this time.
Annika walked slowly. She did not want to say good bye to him. Only the thought of her resolution to keep her distance could spur her on, and not well at that.
Winter was upon the city. Light dusting of snow had fallen while they were at the tavern. For a brief moment the streets looked as though they were plucked from a fairy tale. However, soon the tread of boots and hooves and wheels ended the illusion. Zak took a side-street that was paved to avoid the slush and the mud.
In the sudden spell of cold, Annika found herself shivering.
Zak noticed, and extended his cloak to her.
She felt grateful for the warmth, staying close to him as they walked through the narrow lane. The roofs of the bordering houses almost touched, letting in little light.
On turning a corner, an odd sensation made Annika glance back.
The two men from the tavern were following them a dozen or so steps behind.
“They’re still here,” she whispered.
“They won’t harm us.”
“You don’t even know who I mean!”
But before Zak had a chance to reply ahead of them somebody screamed.
Chapter Eight
The scream pierced the quiet stillness of the lane.
Beside her, Zak froze like a statue for a fraction of a second. Then he bolted ahead.
Annika raced after him, torn between fear of what was ahead and fear of the two men behind.
She had to watch where she stepped as, here and there, underfoot, one rat after another poured out of the gutters and house basements. The rats ran towards Annika and Zak, scurrying over on another and seemingly terrified.
Annika did what she could not to stumble on them. A few times she felt something squash wetly underfoot. The sensation made her stomach turn, but she had to push on ahead to try and keep up with Zak.
The laneway continued for a dozen meters before widening to a crescent-shaped courtyard bordered on all sides by closed doors and shuttered window. In that courtyard, a group of men with drawn swords were attacking two women and two men in brown cloaks.
Annika caught a glimpse of the women’s faces and barely stopped herself from yelling out in surprise. They were two of the princesses of the House of the Bear, whose sister had died recently. What were they doing here? Who was attacking them?
The princesses and their guards stood in a tight group and parried with daggers that seemed too short for the task. They also seemed overmatched by their attackers, the men that were loosely draped in black cloaks, with hoods and black gloves, and whose movements seemed precise and oddly fluid.
Stopping suddenly and shuddering, Annika recognized those sinuous moves. Snake people!
Zak rushed ahead. His sword was a blur. From behind Annika, came the sound of running feet.
Annika cried out as the two men from the tavern ran up.
The steel in the two men’s hands shone.
Annika found that she somehow had drawn her gold dagger and clutched it in a shaking hand. She had rarely practiced knife fighting, despite Cara’s, her father’s, and her tutors’ insistence, and did not think she stood a chance. Still, she was determined not to yield without a fight.
The taller and older of the two men ran by Annika and after Zak. He joined Zak in attacking the snake people, who did not seem to miss a beat in turning to the newcomers with the same lithe grace. The second man stopped beside Annika, bowed, and tossed his curly hair away from his face.
Even in the blur of the moment, he looked familiar. Annika blurted out, uncertainly, remembering the practice fight she saw at Zak’s academy, “The centurion…?”
The man pressed a fist to his chest. “Thiel, your highness.”
Annika felt too stunned to react as the man passed her.
When a snake fighter separated from the larger group and wormed towards Annika, trying to pass the curly-haired man, the man blocked him. Their swords clashed.
As though bewitched, Annika watched the sparks fly off the sw
ords.
The rest of the fight went as though in a slowly moving haze. The princesses’ companions fell first, pierced by the rapiers wielded by two snake men. Zak cut down one of the snakes, but he wasn’t quick enough to save the princesses. Snake men’s rapier went through each of them at the same time.
Annika cried out in shock.
A large red stain spread on the young women’s white tunics.
This can’t be happening, Annika said to herself. She closed her eyes and used all her power to reach out to the women.
Their wounds were a cesspool of evil, darkness and pain.
Annika shuddered in shock and fell to her knees. She could never heal something that evil.
One of the princesses was passing away. There was nothing that Annika could do to stop the flow of life from her. The other woman’s eyes went to Annika, as though she felt Annika’s efforts. Then the woman’s face crumpled, as though it was melted from within, and her eyes closed.
By the time Annika picked herself up, the fight was over. Four snake men were disappearing in the alleyway, while three snake men were left on the ground, slowly melting, oozing into a greenish fluid that ran on the pavement stones in a trickle.
Annika kept her eyes averted as she slowly walked towards Zak.
Zak stood beside the bodies, seemingly unhurt. The princesses and their guards were dead, as was the older man from the tavern. The curly haired man sat on the pavement on the side of the lane, with a stunned look.
“How did he come to be here?” asked Annika.
“Thiel is one of my men. The other was Avos. A good man. I have had them protect you for days,” said Zak, grimly. He was looking down at the princesses and the puddles of green ooze beside them.
“You had me followed,” said Annika, her voice trembling from indignation. “How dare you!”
Beneath the sad calm of Zak’s eyes something moved.
Annika sensed his fury.
“The question is, ‘Why’. And this is your answer,” he said, pointing to the bodies below them with his chin. “The House of the Bear is now without an heir.” He then turned around abruptly. “Where did they get you, Thiel?”