Black Sun Light My Way

by Spurrier, Jo

  ‘But —’

  ‘I mean it! All mages find it difficult to work when their reserves run low, even the Battle-Mages, and they receive years of training to work in adverse conditions. Rest now, and we’ll try again tomorrow.’

  He didn’t argue, but as the evening meal was served, Delphine could feel him retreating and the black despair settling over him again. Had they been alone Delphine would have tried to coax him to talk, or pulled him into her furs to find a refuge there, but she was too keenly aware of the other people pressed in around them, and the lack of privacy held her back. In his place, she wouldn’t be thankful to have all her most personal wounds and fears brought up for discussion where so many could hear. Instead, once the furs were laid out and the lamps snuffed as they all lay down to sleep, she simply sought his hand and held it as he gripped hers tight.

  Delphine was weary enough to fall asleep swiftly, but before long a peculiar noise roused her, a low sob like someone in pain. It took her a few long moments to wake enough to become aware of the rapid, panting breaths and the gentle, rhythmic rustling of furs.

  Even then, it took her sluggish mind a while to put the information together, and by then she’d already turned in the direction of the sound to try to make out what was going on. Then she cursed herself for a complete and utter fool as the glow seeping around the door of the stove let her see the outline of people coupling beneath the heaving furs. Delphine hastily squeezed her eyes shut, but it was too late, she’d already recognised the voices beneath the murmurs and panting breaths — it was Anoa and Ardamon, wrapped in each other’s arms. She could do nothing but hold herself perfectly still and listen to every excruciating moment as she willed herself to slumber once again.

  The next morning, Mira asked Delphine to walk with her as she climbed a nearby hillside to survey the day’s coming weather. Somewhat mystified, Delphine was reluctant to leave the warmth of the tent, but she was afraid a refusal would be unforgivably rude, and so pulled on boots, coat and hat and trudged alongside Mira over the crisp and crackling crust of ice that had formed overnight.

  ‘It occurred to me that you must be very unfamiliar with our ways,’ Mira said. ‘Things that are completely unremarkable to us must seem very strange to a foreigner.’

  ‘Indeed, they do,’ Delphine said. ‘But I don’t expect your folk to change their ways for my sake.’

  ‘Perhaps you would be more comfortable in your own tent?’ Mira asked. ‘I think it would help Isidro’s lessons — I could see how he was distracted last night, and I know it’s important for him to have something to focus on right now.’ She gave Delphine a sidelong glance from beneath her auburn lashes. ‘Has he told you of my condition?’

  ‘He did,’ Delphine said. ‘I know you asked him not to speak of it, but —’

  ‘I understand,’ Mira said. ‘But I can’t be certain yet whether I truly am with child. If not, and we don’t find Cam in time …’ Mira’s breath caught in her throat and she hastily covered her face with her hands.

  ‘I promised Isidro,’ Delphine said, ‘and I’ll swear the same to you — I’ll do everything I can to get you there swiftly —’

  ‘After seeing what you did on the river, I believe we have a chance,’ Mira said. ‘But while I hope for the best, I must plan for the worst. If we don’t find Cam, and if there’s nothing else to tie him here, I’m afraid we’ll lose Isidro. Right now he’s taking strength from you, and if there’s anything I can do to help you shore him up, I’ll do it. Do you think the mage-craft will be enough?’

  Delphine drew a deep breath. ‘Alone? I doubt it. But if we give him a cause to fight for, something bigger than himself, a way to make sure all that’s happened here can’t happen again — I think that will be the only way.’

  ‘Returning mage-craft to Ricalan, you mean?’ Mira asked. ‘Perhaps.’

  ‘But it can’t happen, can it?’ Delphine asked. ‘Your clans are against it, and they have all the power.’

  ‘It will be difficult,’ Mira said. ‘I’ve come to believe that bringing magecraft back to Ricalan is the only way we’ll survive. But it will take years, at least …’

  Years. Delphine bit her lip and thought back on her musings of the day before. She wanted a home and a family, and she couldn’t have that here, where she would always be a foreigner. Of course Isidro would never expect her to stay if she wanted to leave, and they both knew this arrangement was temporary … but what if she did stay? It would mean turning her back on the career she’d made for herself. But that’s likely gone already, Delphine thought. It was too hard, too confusing, and she pushed the thought from her mind as Mira went on.

  ‘But if Cam survives, if Sierra lives and destroys Kell and Rasten, then we’ll be on that same path anyway. If having your own tent will help Isidro study in peace and give you some privacy, then I’ll make it happen.’

  ‘My only concern is that it will set us apart from your people,’ Delphine said, ‘when mages are already objects of fear and distrust. Also, I … I don’t want them to think that I expect to be waited upon. Your people have no reason to think well of mine, but I don’t want to make things worse.’

  ‘You’re quite right, I can’t assign you a servant,’ Mira said.

  ‘But I’ve no idea how to put up a tent or set up a stove —’

  Mira raised a hand to silence her. ‘Oh, that will all be taken care of. If you continue to provide us with the same service you gave us yesterday, there will be no grumbling over that. But you’ll have to fetch your own water and tend your own fire, hang up your own laundry, and so on.’

  ‘I’m perfectly happy to do so.’ Delphine frowned down at the snow, glittering in the early morning light. The whole night had been a disconcerting experience. Although Delphine had never considered herself a prude she thought she’d be much more at ease with the privacy of her own tent.

  They’d reached the top of the hill now, and Mira turned to face her. ‘So, it’s settled?’

  ‘I believe so.’

  ‘Good.’ Mira turned to survey the western sky, where the last few stars were winking out with the rising sun. ‘Looks like we should have a clear day. If the Gods are willing, we’ll make good time.’

  The weather held, although scudding clouds swept across the sky for most of the day. Without the rain and with less wind, it was distinctly warmer than when Delphine had ridden with the legions in the winter, and when the sun came out she began to sweat under the heavy fur. The snow’s morning crust softened throughout the day until it became a wet mass that trapped snowshoes and hooves alike. Wet snow, Delphine was dismayed to learn, was colder than dry snow, and clung tenaciously to everything it touched.

  That evening, when Mira showed Delphine to the small tent she’d had set up for her, Delphine felt as pleased as she had when she’d moved into her Collegium quarters after her divorce. It was small, true, and a little shabby about the edges, but it was warm and comfortable and offered a freedom she hadn’t realised she’d missed.

  ‘Of course you may take your evening meal with us,’ Mira said. ‘I’ll send for you when it’s ready. Isidro may not choose to stay here with you … but I think he will. He’s grown used to solitude these last few months, I think.’

  The tent was wedge-shaped, and not quite high enough to stand up in, but once Delphine ducked inside and sat on her bedroll atop the fresh green spruce, she stretched her arms out and savoured the space. In the big tent, with so many people crammed in around her, she had been afraid to intrude upon the personal space of those jammed cheek and jowl beside her. How these folk could live in such a way, never having a moment of privacy, all their most personal and intimate happenings always on display, utterly confounded her.

  Delphine hung her lantern from the ridge-pole, changed her clothes, and was hanging her socks and boot liners over the stove when Isidro came to her, ducking through the doorway with his bedding slung over his shoulder and his kitbag in his hand. Inside, he paused without setting them down,
surveying the small space with an unreadable expression.

  Delphine felt suddenly hesitant. In the face of her own discomfort at living so closely with strangers, she’d forgotten it was completely normal for him, and that staying in this small, isolated tent could seem something like a punishment. ‘Mira said you might prefer to stay in the big tent. I honestly don’t mind either way, but I just can’t live like that. I think I’d go out of my mind.’

  He started to speak, hesitated, and then closed his mouth again. He looked everything over, taking in stove and woodpile, the lantern hanging from the tent-pole, Delphine’s bedding and her bags, pushed up against the wall of the tent.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked him.

  Isidro shook his head. ‘It’s not important.’

  ‘Please tell me,’ she said. ‘I don’t want to make things more difficult for you.’

  He hesitated again, and had to turn his face away before he could speak. ‘When we first started travelling with Sierra, she had her own little tent away from the rest of us. I used to go there in the evenings and help her with Kell’s book …’

  ‘Oh,’ Delphine said. Should she be jealous? She couldn’t seem to decide. Once she’d envied the girl so fiercely it hurt, but now she only pitied her. ‘Well, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable —’

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, I’d rather stay. If you’ll have me.’

  ‘Why wouldn’t I? I’ve put up with you this long, haven’t I?’ She meant it as a joke, but as soon as she said the words she worried he’d take them badly.

  Isidro shrugged his bedroll free from his shoulder. ‘It’s not your responsibility to keep me from losing my mind, Delphi.’

  ‘No,’ she agreed. ‘It’s my choice. But in any case, you’re the one doing the heavy lifting, and once we find your brother you’ll be on steadier ground. I know I can’t stay forever, but I’ll see you that far, at least. Now, shall we have another try at that lesson from yesterday?’

  ‘In a little while,’ he said. ‘Right now I have a better idea.’ He wound his hand around the back of her neck, burying his fingers in the stiff curls of her hair, and pulled her close for a kiss.

  Chapter 14

  After a week passed, Rasten thought the worst of it was over. Kell spent a few nights taking his anger and frustration out on him, but then he found a new plaything, a boy who’d lied about his age to enlist, and had no rank or kin to protect him. To keep his pain from bolstering Sierra’s power the boy was kept elsewhere — Rasten had heard something about a tower room where no one would hear the goings-on — and that suited him perfectly.

  The doors at the dungeon’s entrance were strengthened and refitted with locks and staples, and he heard that a handful of guards had been flogged, but after that little was said of the matter. Rasten began to relax.

  It was a mistake, of course.

  Kell happened to be in residence when a page arrived to summon them to an audience with the king. Since Sierra was sleeping off the last training session, Kell judged it safe to leave her alone for a short time, and had Rasten accompany him.

  The page was visibly terrified to be escorting them to the king’s chamber. Everyone in the royal household knew of Kell’s predilections, but Rasten found the child’s trembling fear exasperating. Any page in the king’s service was noble-born, and Kell would obviously not be given a noble scion for his chamber unless he or his kin had done something to deserve it. Kell, as always, took a certain amount of pleasure in watching the boy squirm.

  Rasten had assumed the summons was to deliver a report of Sierra’s progress, and in truth, he felt she would be ready to be used in battle within a week or so, provided she was drugged or otherwise cowed into obedience. Once he entered the chamber at his master’s heel, Rasten realised that the matter at hand was of another sort entirely.

  Lady Cortana, Osebian’s noble-born mistress, stood before the king. She was as lovely as ever, dressed in a blue gown trimmed with white fur, but her face was drawn and sombre and she clutched a wrinkled lace handkerchief in one hand. A group of soldiers knelt in neat ranks behind her, and Rasten vaguely recognised them as the duke’s hand-picked men, with Angessovar’s captain at their head.

  ‘Lord Kell,’ the king said. ‘It seems that my cousin has misplaced himself. He hasn’t been seen in … how long was it, my dear?’

  ‘We expected him five days ago, your majesty,’ Cortana said.

  ‘Do you think I’m keeping him in the cells?’ Kell asked her. ‘What has this to do with me?’

  Severian looked pained. ‘We are endeavouring to trace Osebian’s steps, my lord.’

  The king bore little resemblance to the man Rasten had locked away in the hidden cell a week before. Severian had his father’s Ricalani colouring and features, diluted only slightly by his mother’s southern blood. Rasten knew there were two people in Ricalan that the king did not dare command. His mother was one of them, and Kell was the other.

  ‘Lord magister,’ Cortana said, with steel in her voice. ‘My lord delivered a prisoner to your domain the day he was last seen. Records indicate that he left the camp with his men a short time later, but I am certain this is not the case. The duke and his servant were both sighted in camp after the recorded hour, by several witnesses.’

  ‘Indeed, it is so,’ the king said hurriedly as Kell began to glower. ‘Osebian’s men have spent the last few days gathering information.’

  ‘A man matching my lord’s description was seen riding towards the eastern gate in the early hours of the following morning,’ Cortana said. ‘But he did not speak to anyone, nor was his departure recorded at any gate.’

  ‘It is cold when the sun goes down, my dear,’ the king said to her. ‘A man out after dark would wear a hood and cowl. The witness must have been mistaken, and I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation. No doubt my cousin found the road blocked by floods —’

  ‘Surely not, your majesty — I took those self-same roads to come here and found them perfectly passable —’

  ‘Or he stopped for a spot of hunting along the way. Really, my dear, I can’t imagine anything happening to Osebian. Any wretched natives or brigands who crossed his path would be dead before they had a chance to beg for mercy.’

  Cortana squared her jaw. ‘Your majesty, I’ve heard rumours of a man killed in the lord magister’s dungeons — a fair-haired man with a tattoo and a warrior’s build. Sir, my beloved would never leave his men for so long without orders or command, not so close to the enemy. Something’s gone amiss, I’m certain of it. I beg you, sir, you have to find him. A man like Osebian Angessovar does not simply vanish!’

  The king’s face darkened momentarily at the mention of the body in the cells. ‘My lady, half the men in this camp are blond-headed warriors. What possible reason could my cousin have for being in the condemned cells?’

  Cortana bit her lip, and at once Rasten realised she knew exactly who Osebian had taken prisoner.

  Rasten stepped forward and bowed. ‘Your majesty, may I speak?’

  He could feel Kell’s glare hot on his back, angry that Rasten had acted without permission. The king, too, seemed taken aback. He, like the rest of the nobility, were unsure just how to deal with Kell’s apprentice and catamite.

  The king shifted in his seat. ‘You may.’

  ‘Your majesty, this can be settled quite easily. The corpse has not yet been disposed of — with your permission, I’ll escort Lady Cortana to inspect the body. Surely that will settle the matter.’

  ‘Indeed, your majesty,’ Kell said, twisting his palm on the polished knob of his cane. ‘It seems a sensible solution. Once the lady has seen the truth, no doubt she’ll put these unfortunate and seditious rumours to rest.’

  ‘Capital,’ the king said, and Rasten watched as the colour drained from Cortana’s face.

  ‘My liege,’ Osebian’s captain half-rose from his kneel. ‘In my lord’s absence it is my duty to guard his lady’s honour. The duke would not let
her be dragged through the fortress without a trusted escort —’

  ‘Are you insinuating that my apprentice is not to be trusted?’ Kell asked mildly. ‘In any case, it cannot be permitted. I understand that the criminal’s corpse is being stored quite near my other apprentice, and to have too many living bodies near her at once would be dangerous.’

  The captain opened his mouth to speak again, but Rasten caught his gaze and held it. He already had power summoned and ready to quell the man’s voice if he suggested the obvious solution, that the body be brought out instead, but the threat of his unwavering attention was enough. The soldier dropped his gaze and stepped back.

  Rasten offered his left arm to Osebian’s trembling mistress. ‘My lady?’

  As he led Cortana away, Kell spoke into Rasten’s head. Quick thinking, boy, I’m well pleased. Ensure the whore knows what will happen if she doesn’t do as she’s told, but don’t leave any obvious marks while you’re about it.

  Kell expected him to fuck her the moment they were alone. In his place, Kell would do it just because he could, but Rasten had no interest in the trembling creature. There was only one woman he wanted now, and he spared a thought to check on her. Sierra was still asleep.

  He said nothing as he led Cortana to the cool-room, a chamber carved into the cold bedrock where meat and other perishables could be kept beside blocks of ice set aside for summer. When he created a globe of fire for a lantern and cast it into the air, he thought the woman would faint.

  The room had been secured with a padlock. Rasten released it with a thread of power, but paused before opening the door. ‘Are you familiar with corpses, my lady?’

  ‘I prepared my mother and my brother for the funeral bier, Lord Rasten,’ Cortana said, lifting her chin.

  ‘So you understand, bodies change after death. The skin sags, the flesh settles. A face may not look as you expect, you may think you recognise a man when in fact you do not … do you take my meaning?’

  ‘I … my lord —’