by Morgan Rice
The Master of Crows didn’t seem perturbed by that. He stood there with a faint, knowing smile.
“You say that, and yet I can see the path ahead of you as clearly as if you have already walked it,” he said. “The crows let me see a long way.”
“Not far enough,” Sophia said. Briefly, she wondered what it must be like to be something like that, so powerful that it turned him into something that wasn’t even close to being human. She looked across to Sienne and wondered if she was on the start of the same path, and where it might lead if she were.
Then she realized that she didn’t care. All she cared about were the people who were meant to be under her protection. “Tell me what I have to do to secure the release of my men, or I will walk away.”
“Your men are already being released,” the Master of Crows said. “I do not need their deaths, when you will provide so many more.”
“I’ve just told you that I won’t do what you want,” Sophia said. She meant it. That this thing wanted her to invade the Dowager’s kingdom was only one more reason not to do it.
The Master of Crows shrugged. “In battle, a commander’s intentions do not matter if they cannot see the whole situation. They find themselves reacting as it changes, and he who controls those changes can make them dance like puppets.”
“Is that why you go to war?” Sophia asked. “To watch people perform for you?”
“There is a certain joy in it,” the Master of Crows admitted, sounding pleased by it. “But mostly I do it because I realized the truth a long time ago.”
“What truth?” Sophia asked.
The New Army’s leader smiled. “That if it comes to a choice between my life and the world, I will see the world in ashes. My creatures must be fed to sustain me. They will be fed. There is little point in fighting against it.”
Sophia shook her head. “You’re trying to make it sound as if it’s inevitable. As if it’s my destiny. Well, I still get to choose, and I’m choosing to walk up that beach and go back to the castle. Try to stop me, and I’ll have Sienne rip out your throat.”
“You think I am without protection?” the Master of Crows asked, with a gesture to his still circling birds.
“I think that cats eat birds,” Sophia pointed out. She turned to leave.
To her surprise, she heard the Master of Crows laughing behind her. Sophia spun back toward him.
“What’s so funny?”
“Simply that you truly believe you will do this thing, when I can stop you with a word. With four words, to be more precise.”
Did he mean some spell, or some trick? Should Sophia be trying to protect herself?
“Are you ready?” the Master of Crows asked. He held up one gloved hand, ready to count off the words as he said them. “Would you like to hear my four words? Here they are: Sebastian is in danger.”
Sophia froze, unable to help herself. Sebastian couldn’t be in danger, could he? This man, this thing, was lying to her. Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to walk away.
“Would you like to see?” The Master of Crows held out a hand like a falconer, and a bird plunged down from the circling mass to land on it. This one was larger than the others, a raven rather than a crow, and it stared at Sophia with the same bleak black eyes as its owner. Sienne hissed at it as it landed. The Master of Crows held it out to her, and Sophia realized that he was expecting her to hold her own arm out to take it.
Sophia felt certain that this had to be some kind of trick, but she didn’t dare to walk away. If Sebastian was truly in danger, and she ignored it, then she would feel as guilty as if she’d hurt him herself. Hesitantly, not knowing if it was the right thing, Sophia lifted her arm. The bird was heavier than Sophia had thought it might be, weighing down her arm as it hopped across. It dug in with its claws, and Sophia saw…
She watched from a bird’s-eye view as Sebastian stood at docks she recognized as Ashton’s. She saw men surrounding him, grabbing him, dragging him away. She saw a figure she recognized as Rupert…
“When was this?” Sophia demanded. “What am I seeing?”
“Watch,” the Master of Crows said, with a smile that said he knew he had her now, and that she wouldn’t be able to look away.
Sebastian being bundled into a cart, driven through the streets of the city to a house that was large and forbidding from the outside. Being dragged inside. The bird moving lower, prompted by an unseen hand, looking through the windows of a basement kitchen so that it could see Sebastian being dragged through it toward a basement door…
“There were no windows beyond that,” the Master of Crows said. “No way for one of my pets to get close. But I think it’s enough to show you what is happening. I have heard more, of course. They forget to shoot at crows there. Prince Sebastian walked out of his wedding, then disappeared. The Dowager is most angry with Prince Rupert, and tried to send him away, although my pets say that he has not gone. Sebastian languishes in Rupert’s home. Tell me, what do you think is happening to him there?”
“Rupert wouldn’t hurt Sebastian,” Sophia said, but the truth was that she could imagine the possibilities all too easily. She knew what Rupert was capable of. She’d seen it firsthand, when he’d tried to force himself on her. “Or maybe this isn’t real. Maybe you’re lying to me.”
“If you truly believe that,” the Master of Crows said. “Simply do nothing. I don’t think you will.”
Sophia glared at him. She hated being manipulated like this, made to dance in his game, yet the truth was that she didn’t have a choice.
“I will withdraw to my ships,” the Master of Crows said. “Ishjemme will not be attacked, for now. Instead, I will wait for the outcome of your war with the Dowager.”
“And attack whoever is weakened by it,” Sophia guessed.
The Master of Crows didn’t even try to deny it. “Crows follow in the aftermath of battle.”
“We’ll be ready for you,” Sophia promised. She reached out to hand the tall man his raven back, but the creature dug into her arm, snapping at her with its beak. Sophia jerked back only just in time to keep from losing an ear to the thing, shaking it loose from her arm and striking at it. It hopped from her to the Master of Crows, settling on his shoulder easily.
“It seems that my pets will not be satisfied without at least a taste of you,” he said. He turned to the creature, and it seemed for a moment as if he were listening to it. “An ear. They will have one lovely ear, as a promise of things to come.”
Sophia stepped back, behind the strength of Sienne. The forest cat was crouched now, ready to spring.
“Stay away from me,” Sophia commanded. “I’m not going to let your creatures near me. I’m certainly not going to let that thing eat my ear.”
The Master of Crows laughed at that. He drew a slender blade, holding it with the kind of ease that came from long practice.
“Oh, you still don’t understand how this all works, do you? You still think that you’re in control. You still think that you get to let me do anything.”
Sophia drew her eating knife. It seemed so pitiful against the blade her opponent held, yet, as he advanced, the circling cloud of sand keeping all help out, it was all Sophia had.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Lucas stood watching the wall of dust stirred up by the crows with disquiet, even though he knew the swirl of it probably protected their people from the New Army’s ships as much as it hid all that was going on within it. He felt a touch of relief as men came in from the shore, stumbling out of the dust in the colors of Ishjemme.
Even so, he stood as taut as a drawn bowstring, a hand on his sword ready to draw it. He didn’t trust this. He could feel the power of the creature who had come to them, and he didn’t like leaving his sister alone with him, with it.
He felt the moment when his sister was in danger like a blade sliding into his flesh. He heard her cry out for help in his mind as clearly as if she were standing next to him shouting.
Help!
I’m coming, Sophia, he sent, but there was no time for more than that. He was too busy fighting his way through the dust.
It was a fight. The sand and dust that the Master of Crows’ magic had stirred up stung Lucas’s flesh as he pressed forward, scouring him with the feel of wire wool running over a sword. It got in his eyes, so that Lucas had to screw them tight against the blinding grit of it. It seemed almost like a living thing trying to push him back, or make him lost so that he would never find his sister.
Lucas didn’t need to be able to see to find Sophia though. He could feel her presence ahead as surely as he knew where his limbs were, or which way was up. Where someone else might have staggered through the dust cloud a pace at a time, Lucas ran, trusting that if he got to Sophia, nothing else mattered.
Help, she called again. Lucas drew his sword, ready to strike down anything that threatened her.
He came out into a clear space at the heart of the dust storm, where Sophia stood, backing away from the Master of Crows as the man advanced on her with a blade in his hand.
“You’re being unreasonable about this,” he said. “It is only an ear that my pets want for now. I will have it, so why not be still?”
“Leave her alone!” Lucas shouted, and the other man turned to face him, looking at Lucas as if trying to work out exactly what he was.
“Hmm, maybe you’ll do even better than an ear,” he said.
He opened his coat and birds flew out. They poured from it, they sped from it. They came straight for Lucas’s face, and he barely ducked in time. Even so, claws scratched at his shoulders, beaks pecked at his skin. Lucas forced himself not to panic. Official Ko had once had him recite poetry while servants threw feathers and rice sacks at him, rats and small snakes. Compared with that, Lucas could deal with a storm of crows.
Hacking left and right with his sword, he started to cut his way through it. He found a feline shape accompanying him, Sophia’s forest cat bringing down birds with great swipes of her claws.
A blade appeared through the chaos, and Lucas barely parried it in time. The birds flew back, leaving him facing the Master of Crows while Sienne moved to Sophia’s side, obviously determined to protect her. Lucas’s blade didn’t waver as he leveled it at his foe’s heart.
“You should let me kill you now,” the Master of Crows said. “I have never been bested with a blade, and it will be quicker for you that way. Aren’t you afraid of the pain I could inflict on you? The way I’ll make you scream for death?”
Lucas smiled. “I had many sword masters,” he said. “One of them once told me that the threats a man makes when he fights mean nothing for you. They only tell you the things that those men fear.”
The Master of Crows roared his anger at that, and grabbed for a pistol at his belt so fast that most people wouldn’t have been able to react. Lucas was already diving out of the way, though, as the shot went past. He rolled, coming up to his feet in time to parry a series of thrusts.
His opponent was skilled; there was no doubt of that. He thrust and cut relentlessly, but without leaving obvious openings, his attacks were forceful without being clumsy, sophisticated without being needlessly complex, ruthless and direct at the same time. Lucas gave ground to a lunge, then had to parry quickly as his opponent followed it up with a dropping attack aimed at his legs. He felt sure that the least mistake would mean death against a foe like this.
Even so, Lucas started to counterattack. He cut at the Master of Crows’ arm as he came in, then beat his blade aside, slicing so close to him that it cut through the lining of his coat. His opponent barely missed him with a sweeping cut aimed at Lucas’s head, but Lucas swayed aside in time. He had more sense than to try to take the obvious opening that created, because the Master of Crows’ blade was already cutting down to cover it.
“You have some skill,” the other man acknowledged. “Let’s see how much.”
He came forward with a blistering series of attacks, at a speed most people would barely have seen. Lucas’s blade wove patterns in the air as he deflected blow after blow, batting them aside or just blocking them outright. It was hard, his own reflexes pushed hard by the powers his blood gave to him. He caught the Master of Crows’ blade for a moment on his guard, then cut down, slicing into him from shoulder to chest.
Against anyone else it would have been a fatal blow. With this opponent, though, it meant that Lucas had to grab hurriedly for the other man’s sword arm as his blade found itself briefly stuck.
“No one has wounded me like that in a long time,” the Master of Crows said, pushing close to Lucas.
“I’ll do more than wound you,” Lucas promised.
“My crows give me life, boy. As long as I feed them death, you cannot beat me.”
He had a knife in his other hand now, and Lucas could see the dilemma: if he let go of the other man’s sword arm to deal with it, he would be vulnerable. If he didn’t…
A shape slammed into the Master of Crows from the side, knocking him back. Lucas saw Sienne snapping and snarling at him, leaping back as the New Army’s general swiped at her. It was enough to buy him time, and Lucas used the moment to wrench his sword clear.
“I doubt even your crows can save you if I cut your head off,” he said, raising his blade again.
The Master of Crows stood there, obviously trying to weigh his chances of winning the fight hampered with a wound; Lucas suspected that he was trying to work out exactly how much an ear was worth to him.
Apparently not his life. He sprang back into the dust and the sand swirling around him. A part of Lucas wanted to give chase and hunt him through that dust by just the traces of his mind. That would be a dangerous game though. It was better to wait for a better chance. His sister needed him.
He turned to Sophia then, looking her over, trying to make sure she wasn’t wounded.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
She nodded. “Are you? The way you fought then… it reminded me of the way Kate fights. It was incredible.”
“I had good teachers,” Lucas said, cleaning his sword and sheathing it.
“He wanted to take my ear,” Sophia said. “He’s… he’s something not human. All he cares about is creating chaos to feed those crows of his.”
Lucas shuddered at that thought, and at how powerful it might make someone.
“Why did he come here?” Lucas asked. “What did he want?”
“He told me something,” Sophia said. “Something that… it will mean more war, more violence.”
“More food for his crows,” Lucas guessed.
He saw Sophia bite her lip. “Yes, but I can’t ignore it. What he said… I can’t leave things as they are.”
Lucas reached out to put a hand on his sister’s shoulder. “Whatever you decide, I will be there.”
She hugged him then, holding him tight. “You don’t know how glad I am that you found us.”
Lucas had an idea, because he knew just how grateful he was that he’d found his sister. When he pulled back from the hug, he turned slowly, looking for signs of the Master of Crows’ pets, but they seemed to be gone now, fled along with their master. Around them, the dust was already starting to settle, falling in gentle waves as the wind caught it, thinning so that it was possible to see shadows through it, then clearing completely.
He found the others waiting on the banks of the fjord, their captured men standing free beside them. The surprising part came when he looked out over the water. The ships that had been there were gone, already disappeared around the bends of the waterway.
“Where did they go?” Sophia asked. “How did they get away so quickly?”
“They must have already been moving while we were in the dust,” Lucas said.
Their uncle came ov
er to them, wrapping strong arms around them both. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” he said. “When you were both in there with that man, when the ships turned to go… I was sure he must have killed you or captured you.”
Lucas shook his head. “He would need to be a much better swordsman to do that.”
He thought then of all the training that Official Ko had put him through, all the hours that he had spent with tutors. Everyone had said that they were training him to rule, but maybe the old man had been more cunning than that. Lucas had certainly never managed to plumb the depths of his long thought out ideas. Maybe he’d guessed that Lucas would want no part of being a king if it meant pushing his sister aside. Maybe he’d trained him to be all he needed to be to protect her instead.
The sheer enormity of that hit him then, with all that it might mean. The idea that all of this might have been planned, by their parents, by the creatures that sought to rule, by beings with the knowledge to make choices that would change the world. There wasn’t any time to think about it, though, because Sophia was already speaking, addressing her cousins, her uncle, and the men gathered there.
“The Master of Crows came here today to try to manipulate me,” Sophia said. “He wanted to force me into war. I will not go into war because he makes me, but I will go to war. The Dowager has taken someone I love. Her kingdom oppresses those who are like me, like us. It is clear that attacks will come, if not now, then soon. Will you fight alongside me?”
They cheered, and Lucas surprised himself by cheering with them. Every word of it only confirmed to Lucas that he’d done the right thing stepping aside. Sophia was the one who could make people follow her. She was the one who could cut through the moves and countermoves, to the things that mattered. She was the one with the skills to lead, and Lucas would protect her while she did it, from the Master of Crows, or anything else.
“Uncle, cousins,” she said. “I want you to prepare whatever armies Ishjemme can muster. I want you to send messages to our allies, so that armies come down from the mountain clans and rise up among the lords. We’re going to Ashton, and we’re going to retake my kingdom.”