Black Sun Light My Way

by Spurrier, Jo

  Isidro closed the gap between them with two quick strides. ‘What is it? A Blood-Mage text?’

  She recoiled as though he’d slapped her. ‘What? Oh, by all the Gods, no. Those are forbidden — any we find must be burned immediately.’

  ‘Then what is it?’

  Her face went still, but Isidro saw her eyes flicker towards the smoking ruins of the weapon. The sheaf of papers was crumpled in her hand, but on one corner Isidro saw a fragment of diagram, some intricate arrangement of stones and wires. ‘Madame —’

  ‘They had the weapon for some time,’ Delphine said. ‘They studied it carefully. Perhaps they even tried to repair it … but with limited success, I think, since the wretched thing essentially destroyed itself. But they learnt something from it. You saw the remains of the devices they had. And now I … I think I know what they looked like.’ Hesitantly, she unfolded the crumpled pages.

  Isidro felt as though an icy hand had clenched around his chest. She’d found the Blood-Mages’ notes on the ancient device, and the plans for a weapon that had carved a fist-sized hole out of the Akharian soldier’s chest.

  She was within his reach. Perhaps he could snatch the papers away from her and feed them into the flames. He’d already begun to move when he checked himself. It would be beyond foolish. She might be smaller than him, a soft academic to his battered warrior, but she was a mage, and he had no hope of besting her.

  Delphine noticed his movement and stepped back, watching him with narrowed eyes, and he felt her power rise again, ready to form a shield. He realised he was breathing hard, as hard as he had when facing the Blood-Mage, power roaring through his veins like fire. ‘Madame,’ he said, and his voice came out hoarse and rasping. ‘May I see it?’

  Gaze still narrow, Delphine turned the page towards him. Isidro felt the power throbbing beneath her skin and, with a deep breath, he put his good hand behind his back. Delphine was his only ally here; he couldn’t afford to lose her trust.

  As he examined the page, Isidro felt his heart sink. After only a moment, he closed his eyes and straightened, thinking of a field full of Akharian soldiers armed with such weapons advancing on a sleeping village. By the time he collected himself to push the image aside, he found Delphine watching him, her expression wary.

  ‘Madame,’ he said. ‘Please don’t do it. Destroy it, now, I beg you, before it’s too late.’

  ‘Hush,’ she told him, but when he ignored the command and began once more to speak she said it again. ‘Hush. Hold your tongue, Aleksar. That’s an order.’

  ‘Madame — Delphine,’ he said, ‘you know what they’ll do with a weapon like that. You know how they’ll use it —’

  Her hands trembled, making the pages rustle. ‘I know that. I know. I won’t give it to them right away; I’ll hide it. I’ll wait until we’re gone from this country, and then I’ll say it was overlooked —’

  ‘They won’t believe you. Someone will find it. The Battle-Mages want to bring you down, madame, how can you be sure one of them won’t search your tent?’

  ‘Then I … I’ll deliver it to General Boreas on the provision they’re not to use it against the civilians, only the Blood-Mages and the king’s men … oh, by the Good Goddess, that’ll never work …’ Delphine turned away, crumpling the sheaf once again.

  ‘Madame, think,’ Isidro said. ‘You’ve seen what happens to villages in the army’s path. Think of the women and children who’ll fall under those weapons, defenceless folk who have barely heard of Akhara, let alone done it harm —’

  Delphine pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. ‘Be quiet! Hold your tongue!’

  ‘You know what horrors they’ll bring down upon my people. Delphine, their blood will be on your hands —’

  ‘I’m not a traitor!’ Delphine shouted, and then she drew a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Do you know why we came here? Do you? The Mesentreian Raiders have ravaged our coast, stealing our harvest and burning what they can’t take, slaughtering entire villages and attacking every ship they see. The price of grain in our city is the highest it’s ever been. There have been riots in Akhara over the price of bread, and starving children beg for scraps in the streets, or hunt down the cats and dogs they used to keep as pets. A century ago, these weapons kept your coast safe. They can do the same for us.’

  Isidro shook his head. ‘The Raiders sail from Ricalan’s harbours. Your people will take those towns soon enough, and with no safe port to sail from the pirates will leave your lands alone. The empire doesn’t need them, madame!’

  ‘But what about Kell and his apprentice? Blood-Mages of their rank are not easily dealt with. It will cost thousands of lives to destroy them, perhaps tens of thousands, if they can be killed at all, and if the empire isn’t bled dry in the attempt. That could mean ten thousand families left without fathers, without sons —’

  ‘And what about the families here who will lose their fathers, who will be broken apart and sold off as slaves?’ Isidro asked. ‘Do you count those in your tally?’

  ‘Oh, hold your wretched tongue! I know what they’d do with those weapons, I’m not a fool … but I’m not a traitor, either!’

  ‘Destroying it isn’t treachery, madame: it’s compassion. It’s one good thing in the middle of an atrocity.’

  ‘But this is exactly what we hoped to find! When I think of all those who’ve died, both your people and mine — if I destroy this now, won’t those deaths be for nothing? Once they have it, and Vasant’s last cache, maybe they’ll turn back without taking any more slaves. But then, if they do build something like this, ye Gods … I just … I don’t know what to do. I need some time to think.’

  He heard something then — they both did, for Delphine lifted her head at the same moment as Isidro turned to the doorway. Echoing through the chambers and halls were heavy footsteps and ringing voices as reinforcements came thundering along their trail. Desperate, Isidro drew himself up for one last plea. ‘Madame —’

  ‘No,’ Delphine said, tucking the papers away inside her jacket. ‘Be silent, Aleksar, or by the Good Goddess herself, I swear I’ll have you flogged. I just … I need some time to think …’

  Chapter 2

  The Akharian forces were camped to the southeast of the temple, on a rise that lifted them above the choking fog and gave a clear view of the crumbling edifice and the troops marching up the switchback path. A large tent had been commandeered to house the papers and materials recovered from the bolthole, and shortly after noon Isidro found himself installed there with lights, a stove, and all the ink, paper and waxed tablets he could possibly use.

  Mira sat on the bench beside him, helping sort through the spoils. Delphine had badgered, cajoled and generally made a nuisance of herself until General Boreas lent her the use of his personal captive. Mirasada of the Wolf was noble-born and highly educated; and though the Akharians had been led to believe she spoke only Ricalani, that was enough to help with the mass of books and notes the cabal had accumulated.

  Right now, however, Isidro was having trouble keeping his mind on the task. His head spun with all that had happened, but since they’d returned to camp, another concern was jostling for space beside his unease over the notes Delphine had found.

  Sierra lay on the trampled spruce in the rear corner of the tent, her worn coat thrown over her for a blanket. ‘Did you know she was here?’ he muttered to Mira.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, with apology in her voice. ‘Some of the Drysprings priestesses in the women’s camp worked out who she is. They weren’t sure what to do about her, so they got word to me.’

  ‘But what in the hells happened to bring her here?’

  ‘I don’t know, Issey. I wanted to tell you, but it was too dangerous. You must understand.’

  Isidro sighed. His only contact with the slave camps was through Harwin’s slave-girl Lucia, when she collected firewood or spruce-boughs from the work-teams. Mira was right — such a weak chain of communication was too risky.

&nbs
p; ‘Isidro, do you know anything?’ Mira murmured. ‘Is Cam well?’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Rasten hasn’t told you what happened?’

  He glanced up at her, but quickly caught himself and looked down again, his eyes glossing over the page without reading a word. The last he’d known, Sierra’s contact with Rasten was a carefully guarded secret. ‘You know about him?’

  ‘Of course. We knew the night you were taken, Issey. Rasten has kept her informed ever since.’

  Isidro shook his head. ‘By the Black Sun herself, Mira, the last time I saw you and Sierra you wanted to kill each other.’

  Mira smiled faintly and shook her head. ‘Ancient history.’

  So much had changed since he’d become a slave, it seemed impossible that he could ever catch up. ‘Rasten only tells me what he needs me to know.’

  Mira grimaced and looked down at her book. ‘I should have guessed as much.’

  ‘Mira …’ Isidro said. ‘Have you been treated well?’

  ‘Better than expected,’ she said without looking up. ‘I’ve been placed with the children and elders, and the general has ordered that his property is not to be trifled with. We have some contact with the slave camp, though — when the men get rough with their sport, the women are sent to our camp to recover. I have the privilege of pleading with the cursed slave-masters for medicines and bandages, but at least they don’t dare demand payment in kind.’ Mira set her book aside, and took a new one from the basket at her feet.

  Isidro glanced at Sierra again. Still unconscious and unmoving. ‘You heard what happened?’ he asked, propping his head on his hand. ‘Blood-Mages in Earthblood.’

  She gave a bitter sigh. ‘I can still scarcely believe it.’

  ‘You knew nothing of this? No rumours?’

  She shot him a dark glance. ‘Do you imagine my mother would have let any rumour pass without investigation? They’re rabid about keeping the clans out of temple affairs, and the Priests of Earthblood have always run this valley like their own cursed kingdom.’

  ‘But with all this gear, and the effort they’d put into setting that place up … it can’t have gone unnoticed. Someone had to know something was going on.’

  ‘They must have taken great care to keep themselves hidden —’

  ‘Or maybe the senior priests turned a blind eye when the servants disappeared,’ Isidro muttered. ‘Priests already dabbling in mage-craft won’t look too closely when others do the same, even if they turn to the Blood Path.’

  ‘Issey, I just can’t believe people are practising mage-craft in the temples —’

  ‘Mira, don’t be so naive,’ Isidro snapped. ‘What do you think the priests do at the Children’s Festival? How do you think they make the wretched warding-stones? Do you think none of them ever wondered what else they could do?’ The anger in his voice surprised him, and his hand shook as he leafed through the book that lay before him, its contents written out in a neat, flowing script. The priestess who had died in the bolthole had kept a careful record of her explorations, seemingly without fear of discovery. Rumours within the priesthood had drawn her to Earthblood from her southern temple, whispered tales that the priests in the north held some forbidden knowledge. Once here, she’d stumbled onto the Blood Path, following the teachings of an older priest who’d manipulated her into his workings and into his furs.

  ‘Issey, I … I had no idea, I swear to you,’ Mira said. She turned to him, about to go on, but something beyond the door of the tent caught her eye, and she quickly bowed her head as Delphine entered, followed by a portly man with a thick grey beard and a servant carrying a heavy case. Isidro watched as Delphine led them to the sleeping figure at the rear of the tent. ‘Over here, Doctor Tadanus.’

  ‘Madame, I am not in the habit of treating slaves —’

  ‘Doctor, I’ve said I’ll pay whatever you charge. She’s been unconscious for hours, with no sign of stirring. I just want to know when she’ll wake up. Or if she’s going to wake up.’

  The doctor sighed, hooking his thumbs into his belt, and turned to his assistant. ‘Go ahead, boy. Examine her.’

  Mira poked Isidro in the ribs. ‘Here,’ she said, and passed him the book she’d been leafing through. ‘I think you ought to see this.’

  He took it from her with a frown of irritation, and looked briefly at the page before turning towards Sierra again as the doctor’s assistant ran his hands over her head to feel for lumps on her skull. Then, when what he’d seen registered in his mind, he turned back.

  The page bore a sketch of the Earthblood Temple — Isidro recognised it from a drawing Mira had made weeks before. It included what he now knew to be the secret tunnel past the Blood-Mages’ bolthole. A strange, twisting passage had been marked in one unregarded corner in the servants’ quarters. Isidro stared at it for a long moment before he was able to make sense of the text scrawled around the diagram. This was no neat scribal hand, but notes jotted in haste with a pen that was shaking in excitement. ‘By the Black Sun herself …’ he muttered.

  Once he realised what Mira had found, he set the book down and rested his forehead on his hand. This could be the breakthrough he’d been hoping for … but after the argument with Delphine he wasn’t sure he was pleased to find it.

  That doesn’t matter, he told himself. All that matters is getting Sierra there. The rest we can deal with later. He glanced around at her again, and found the doctor and his assistant both crouched over her still body, while Delphine was gazing over their heads, watching him and Mira.

  With a sigh and a shake of his head, Isidro fumbled for his stylus and began to scrawl notes as he read.

  He kept his head down until a clink of coin and the doctor’s booming voice rang across the tent, and glanced up to see the men leaving in a swirl of cold air.

  Delphine had noticed his intent and focus, and came towards them as she tucked her purse away. ‘Aleksar, what have you found? Bring it here.’

  She had her own small desk near the stove, on which were spread some fragments from the clearing and pieces of the weapon from the bolthole. The rest of the recovered artefacts were in another tent, where Harwin and her students sorted through them, since they could be of no use with the texts. As Isidro kicked an upturned crate towards the desk to sit upon he studied the line of Delphine’s jacket, trying to work out if the papers were still hidden inside.

  Delphine gestured for him to sit. ‘Aleksar,’ she said, her voice low. ‘Who is that girl?’

  The words hit him like a slap to the face. After all that had happened, and with all the tension between them, this was the last question he expected. ‘Madame?’ he said. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  Delphine pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Aleksar, you’re an intelligent man, and you’ve known me for some time now; so I simply cannot understand why you think you can get away with lying to me! It’s rather insulting. Now, it’s been a long day already and it’s barely past noon, but we’ve a great deal to get through yet, so I’m going to give you one more chance. Who is she? I know you know her — I saw it in your face when the guard tried to rouse her in the clearing.’

  Isidro grasped the edge of the table, and squeezed until his knuckles showed white through the skin. However much he wanted to dig his heels in and refuse to answer, he couldn’t afford to defy her now. ‘She’s a friend of my brother’s,’ Isidro said, bowing his head. ‘The last time I saw either of them was at the temple where you … found me, madame.’

  ‘When they rode away and left you there?’ Delphine snorted. ‘Some friend.’

  He chose his words with care. ‘They were being hunted, and I was too weak to go on. Given the circumstances, I’m glad of it. I doubt my brother would have fared as well here as I have. Do you disagree, madame?’

  She gave him a sharp look. He was verging on insolence, but he felt he’d earnt that right, after all they’d been through. Perhaps Delphine reached the same concl
usion, for she broke away from his gaze and turned to study Sierra’s still form. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? Why deny it?’

  ‘Because slaves don’t have kin, madame,’ Isidro said. ‘Lucia told me what happened when she was taken. She was driven away from her sisters at spear-point; when they were dispatched to Akhara she didn’t learn of their fate for weeks.’

  ‘But what —?’

  ‘Madame,’ Isidro said. ‘If I had come to you and said someone might have news of my brother, what would you have done? You’ve told me to forget the life I had before becoming a slave.’

  ‘I’d tell you there’s nothing to be gained by torturing yourself,’ Delphine hissed. ‘If you learn that he’s a slave, or dead, is that truly something you want to know? Wouldn’t it be better to believe he’s safe and free? I bet he’s telling himself that you’re alive and well, with a master who values you and treats you kindly.’

  Isidro clenched his jaw. ‘Madame, I’d rather know the truth than live my life believing a lie.’

  ‘Would you really? Even if that truth drives you to despair and I must put you in chains each night to keep you from doing yourself harm?’

  He felt her eyes track down to the knotted scar on his neck, a reminder of the dark time when ripping his throat out with a shard of broken pot seemed a better option than enduring another day. He looked down at the floor, his hand still clamped around the wood of the table.

  ‘Enough of this,’ Delphine snapped. ‘We have more important matters to attend to right now. Tell me what you’ve found.’

  Isidro clenched his jaw. He wanted to argue — by the Fires Below, he wanted to shout and pace and turn over the tables and kick apart the crates, anything to relieve all the tension and urgency he felt, anything to ease the sense of powerlessness that was settling over him like a leaden blanket.

  But it would get him nowhere, and he had to keep focussed on his goal. With an effort, Isidro unclamped his hand from the table and scooped up the book with a precarious stack of note-tablets balanced on the open page. He dumped the lot of it in front of his mistress, and it fell with enough force to make the table rattle. ‘Madame,’ he said. ‘I’ve found you a path into the Spire.’