She Who Has No Name tlt-2

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She Who Has No Name tlt-2 Page 35

by Michael Foster


  When the door did open, it was with a bright and blinding light. He stood and shielded his eyes but,as something came bounding in upon him, howling and snarling, he leapt aside, almost cracking his skull against the wall. The door shut again, leaving him once more in darkness, but with something angry and growling sharing the cell with him. He could not tell immediately what it was, but its life shone brightly in the cavern against the dull stones. As he made out its shape from the pattern around it, he realised it was a dog of some kind, and it stood in the dark, growling savagely. It could smell him and probably hear him, despite how hard he tried to stand perfectly still. With a snarl,it leapt and Samuel stepped aside, grabbing it around the neck with one deft movement. He was weakened from lack of food, but it was not a large animal and he dropped his weight upon it and drove the beast into the ground. With a yelp, it was dead. He felt little remorse, for he had been allowednochoice but to defend himself.

  Moving his hands over its body, he found it to be,indeed,some manner of muscled and ferocious dog, but it had been wounded and tortured only recently to make it all the more savage. Looking closer, he sensed it to be full of slow-acting poisons. Curious, he thought, for the poison had not had time to affect the animal. Then perhaps it was a test for him: starve him, test him, give him meat-and if he ate it,he would perish in turn. It seemed his captors were playing games with him and he started to wonder if the Desert Queen even knew he was here.

  Time crawled by and Samuel began to wonder if he should take action to free himself. Balten had told him to have patience, but howlongwould he need to wait? Then again, without his ring he had no idea how he could possibly do anything at all. Instead, he practised all his old lessons from his days in the School of Magic: the mantras and words of power, the stances of summoning and expending power (as much as the space would allow) and the complex hand matrices-all designed to align him as closely as possible with the weaves and flows of the infinite pattern of existence.

  Still, that felt hollow and so he turned his time towards other pursuits. He practised squeezing his fists at the end of his stances, transforming the movements of summoning and casting into strikes and evasions, just as he imagined Horse doing them. With each repetition, he felt satisfaction,for he could feel his blows developing-becomingtighter, faster, more efficient. He could hear his sleeves rippling and whipping in the darkness as he locked his attacks into place and,as the noise became sharper and more violent, he knew he was improving.

  He experimented with kicking, based on what he had seen the Koian do, but these felt somehow awkward and he was not sure if they would be effective at all. Still, he had little else tooccupyhis time and he continued practising whatever he could, moving around his tiny chamber in the blackness until he knew its every inch by heart.

  When the physical practice exhausted him, he would sit and focus his mind. He sent his senses deep into the stone and found only more stone all around. Looking further, he detected some narrow passages far away and other living things-perhaps other captives-deep within the rock. Occasionally, his visitors would come and check on him, and occasionally, spells would be sent to search for him-powerful spells originating from far outside the mountain-but little else happened in his timeless world of dark and quiet.

  Footsteps pounding along the passageway alerted Samuel long before they arrived, and Samuel had time to stand and ready himself when the guards next opened his door. They held torches and called to him,gesturingfor him to come out,and he did so warily, eyeing their daggers with concern, ready to leap aside if required.

  Once again, the men bound his wrists and dragged him through an unendinglabyrinthof passageways and tunnels. Quite suddenly, he found himself in sunlit halls, passing women and servants, all of whom seemed revolted by him and did their best to keep their distance. He was not at all surprised and guessed that he must have looked and smelled quite terrible after his stint in captivity. The rotting dog carcass beside him had not helped, as all he could do at the time was wrap it in the rags that had been his bed and stuff it in the corner.

  His escort led him down a short flight of stairs and thenopened a large set of double doors. They cut his ropes and pushed him through and it was there that Samuel found himselfinsidea great arena, with perhaps tens of thousands gathered in the seats around him. The sand was stained with several patches of dark blood and so Samuel trod slowly to the centre of the area, still wincing at the brightness of the sun and looking at the crowd all around himinconfusion. The wait seemed painfully long, but it was obvious what would happen next. Surely enough, another door opened and out came trotting six masked and armed desert-men, each bearing a different form of weapon.

  He was without his power, and suffering from lack of decent food and sleep, but he hoped he would be able to manage these men with his physical skills alone. The isolation of his cell seemed to have protected him from the thought of having no magic, but now, out in the open and requiring spells, he began to panic. He patted his pockets desperately, hoping for his ring to reappear, but it was a vain hope.

  He just had time to thank the fact that he had been practising his attacks in his cell, when another door burst open and a huge lizard came bounding in. It was the same kind of creature that had attacked them outside of Rampeny, but he could see this one clearly and it was enormous. It locked its eyes upon him and came scampering toward him at full speed.

  He flexed and tested his muscles andmentally prepared himselfas the thing bore down on him-he had no idea if he was capable of defending himself at all. It hissed, flapping its blue tongue, and snapped at him. Samuel moved aside, surprising himself at how much distance he covered in one spry step, but the thing continued after him like fluid lightning. He leapt high-higher than he intended-but the lizard was also agile and arched its head up, snapping after him. He cleared its mouth by inches and scampered down its scaly back and behind it.

  The armed men were waiting and he dashed amongst them, hoping to confuse the great lizard. It had already turned and was after him in a frenzy, and the men fled from its path. Samuel ran at them, for they seemed equally disturbed by the presence of such a monstrosity. They scrambled to be away, but he slid into theshin of theclosest man and kicked up into the front of his knee. The man cried out as his leg bent backwards and Samuel leapt over him, crushing his throat as he passed.

  The ease of doing so was a surprise to him, for in his mind he had superimposed the movements of Horse upon himself, and he seemed to be able to match them almost perfectly. He had the man’s spear in his hand and threw it at the furthest fighter, where it buried itself deep into his chest. The desert-man only gasped and fell to his knees, propped up by the shaft of the weapon with his lifeblood gushing out onto the sand. The heavy hammer in his hand dropped to the sand beside him.

  The lizard was again upon him and the other four men had scuttled out of its way, so Samuelfound himselfback-stepping to be away from it. He danced behind the speared man and the lizard trampled over the corpse togat at him. He ran for the wall and the thing followed, hissing closely behind with rancid breath. He reachedthe wall and took two steps up it, vaulting back as the lizard crashed into the stone below him, cracking the great stones. Again, he raced down its back and was away while the thing writhed in pain.

  The fighters had spread out and Samuel raced past the pulverised and speared body, scooping up the heavy hammer as he passed. The nearest fighter had a spiked shield and net and he threw the latter at Samuel as he approached, hoping to ensnare him. Samuelnowthrew his hammer with his full force, swinging it by the end of the handle for momentum; it carried the net back with it, crashing into the man’s shield and toppling him backwards. Samuel stepped on the shield and kicked the man in the teeth as hard as he could. Three desert fighters remained.

  Samuel was off again, pulling the shield with him, feeling his heart now thudding wildly in his chest and labouring for breath, but he could not stop until they were all dead, or it would be his end. The lizard had reco
vered and was again galloping for him, so Samuel bolted towards the next warrior and manoeuvred behind the man. It took a moment for the desert-man to realise what was happening, but too late for,as he watched Samuel scoot past him, it was already too late for him to run from the thundering lizard’s path. He disappeared beneath it and Samuel was off again, towards the next fighter.

  This man held two swords and he stood carefully, keeping Samuel between himself and the creature. Samuel raised his shield andsprangupon the man. One sword bit into the shield and the other swept at Samuel’s legs, but Samuel was airborne and fell upon the warrior with his full weight, spearing him to the ground with the sharpened tips of the shield.

  One fighter remained and Samuel picked up both swords from themanhe had just defeated. Thislast fighterwas wielding a heavy axe and Samuel knew he would have no trouble dispatching the man, so he returned his attention to the lizard.

  It boundedtoward him and Samuel speared one sword into its eye at the last instant, rolling aside to be out of its path. The thing squirmed and kicked its front legs as it tried to scratch out the deep sword. Samuel darted around and deftly buried the second weapon in its other eye, right up to the hilt. The lizard thrashed and threw Samuel aside with a flick of its head.

  He damned himself for being caught, for the blow was solid and left him breathless on the sand. The remaining warrior took his opportunity and came rushing over with his weapon raised high. He brought it down, burying his axe head into the sand as Samuel evadedthe blow. The man was still struggling to recover his weapon as Samuel rolled and regained his feet, and this seemed too much for the axeman. He took one look at Samuelstandingbefore him and gave up, dropping his weapon and fleeing. Samuel considered chasing him, but the masked fighter was no threat and made to the nearest door, thumping on it desperately with his fists.

  It seemed as if the doors were going to open and let the man escape, but a long spear darted out from between the slats and punctured his body three times in rapid succession. The axeman dropped back, dead.

  The crowd was roaring with appreciation by this stage and,although the lizard was not dead, it was incapacitated and continued writhing in pain as it scratched at its eyes with its forelimbs. A team of sandalled spear-men came trotting out of one of the doors and began stabbing the thing from all sides, while it thrashed in agony.

  Samuel sat on his haunches to regain his breath while one well-muscled man, dressed in flowing,white desert robes, came over to him and gestured with his finger to follow.

  Samuel struggled back to his feet, for he felt utterly drained, and followed the man. There did not seem to be any choice.

  Thankfully, they did notmake thetrek back the same way to the dungeons, but insteadwentup some stairs to a windowed room where a bath had been prepared. A table next to the window was covered in breads and fruits and meats, and Samuel’s stomach almost had a fit at the sight.

  ‘Alahativa will meet you soon,’ his guide announced. ‘Wash and prepare. Enjoy some food. Be thankful that you have been deemed worthy of embracing her presence.’

  ‘You speak Turian?’ Samuel asked, for hearing one of the men speaking in his own language was certainly surprising.

  ‘I have spent some time in the west,’ he explained. ‘But I have not spoken Turian aloud for some time, so please excuse me if I make some mistakes. It is not intentional and I do not intend to offend you. I know the language and the ways of your people and,for this reason,I have been asked to serve you. I am Utik’cah, humble servant of our Queen. She has asked me to provide for you as best I can, and what Alahativa asks of me, I do. Now, I will leave you for a time to rest.’ And with a solemn nod he backed out the door and left Samuel to his food and bath.

  Champing enthusiastically upon his meal, but careful not to overload his shrivelled belly, Samuel peered out the window. He was several storeys above a courtyard, overlooking the palace grounds, with the city of Hol spread out below. Without his magic, it was much too high to risk jumping and he leaned out the window to see if there were any ledges or railing that he could shimmy along if required. Disappointed, he resigned himself to enjoying his food and newfound freedom and he pulled off the rags that now seemed part of his body and sank into his steaming bath.

  He scrubbed at his skin until it was almost raw, for the blotches and grime that he found were stubborn to remove, and he washed his scalp until his hair felt as clean as he could make it. A razor left nearby allowed him to trim the stubble that had appeared on his chin and he wondered how long he had been a captive, for his beard was notoriouslyslow-growing, as with all magicians, yet he had the beginnings of a hairy face well under way.

  It was well into evening before Samuel was called for, and the same man, Utik’cah, summoned him to meet the Queen. Samuel had done his best to dress in the thin white clothes left for him, although Utik’cah shook his head at the results and pulled the cloth into various positions until he was happy that Samuel was fit tobepresented.

  The Queen was seated at the end of a long,columned hall, hung with bright and glittering cloths. Male and female attendants lounged on either side,anda row of muscled guards stoodfiercely behind them with their arms folded above their curved swords. There were no wizards to be seen, but Samuel could feel spells at hand, ready to leap into play.

  The Queen was waiting upon a raised platformthat had severalsteps leading up to it. She sat reclined on a long cane chair,which wascovered with cushions and,with the casualness of a cat watching a mouse come scampering across the floor, she watched him approach. Samuel was given an enormous pillow on which to sit and did so,cross-legged. He waited for the Queen to address him, while Utik’cahstoodattentively to the side. The Queen turned to observe Samuel and, as she looked down on him, he knew at once that everything he had heard about her was true.

  She was utterly beautiful, golden of skin, with her long,dark hair combed carefully back, braided and adorned with a jewelled hairpiece that was magnificent, yet subtle enough not to distract attention from her face. She was dressed in several layers of palegarments,greens and yellows, but it was immediately apparent that the look was crafted to give the onlooker a clear view of her figure, outlined like a shadow beneath the fabric. It was entirely unlike any dress that aWestern queen-or anyWestern woman for that matter-would consider tasteful. Her age wasindefinable, but her expression spoke of experience and maturity. Beyond all this, however, was the inescapable feeling that she lacked all compassion, for she looked upon Samuel as if he were an ant that had been caught wandering across her blanket.

  She had no aura beyond that of any commoner, but there was something about her that felt unusual. She reminded him greatly of the Emperor-or perhaps that was just her upright posture and her regal demeanour.

  ‘Samuel,’ she said, speaking perfect Turian,and her lips crept into a smile that was not so much welcoming as self-satisfied. ‘I’m so glad to finally meet you. I must say I was underwhelmed by your appearance at first, but you have proven hardier than I would have guessed. You survived the little test in my dungeon and then you were victorious in my arena. The crowd was greatly amused by such frivolous antics. Perhaps you will live up to the stories I have heard, after all.’

  ‘How is it that everyone in this land speaks the Emperor’s tongue?’ he asked her.

  ‘My, you do jump to conclusions, don’t you? I am not used to answering the demands of my guests, but I will grant you the boonon this occasion-as a welcoming gesture. Utik’cah may already have explained that he was a spy for me in his youth, sent to theWest to learn the ways of war. Long before that, before I had taken my place as queen of this land, I also lived in theWest. That story, however, is too long and tiresome,and I will not bore you with its details just yet. Needless to say, I can speak Turian at least as well, if not better, than you.’

  She unclasped her hands and Samuel’s mouth nearly dropped open upon sight of her finger, for a familiar ring glinted upon it. For a moment, he thought that Balten must have given h
er his ring, but then he realised it was a twin: the Queen’s own Argum Stone.

  In that instant, and taking her commoner’s aura into account, he realised she was not truly a witch as the Order had feared, but was as much dependent on the ring for magic as he.

  ‘What’s this?’ she said and held her hand out for him to inspect. ‘You’ve only been here a moment and already you gawk at my finger like a lustful thief. From this, I must presume you know the secrets of my ring already. You’re not a very good spy at all, Samuel, if that is what you are supposed to be.’

  ‘I’m no spy and,yes, I know about your ring. It grants you magic abilities,’ he stated. ‘Without it, you cannot use any magic at all.’

  She hesitated, then smiled again and sat up, leaning forward and putting her elbows on her knees to speak with him. ‘So you know more than I would have guessed. Perhaps I should have had you killed before you can cause any mischief. Tell me, Samuel-Saviour of Cintar-why have you come here to my city? What brings you across the great continent to meet me?’

  ‘You demanded it in a letter. I have come in exchange for two people: a woman and a child, stolen and brought here to your city. One is the Empress of Turia,the other is her son, Emperor-to-be Leopold Calais.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said with disappointment. ‘No games? No lies? No misdirection? What kind of magician are you? If you keep this up, you will ruin the reputation of your kind.’

  ‘You know why I am here. Why would I pretend any different?’

  She laughed at this. ‘You would be surprised, Samuel. Perhaps this will be interesting after all.’

  ‘So?’ he prompted her.

  ‘So?’ she repeated. ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Will you release them to me?’

  Again she laughed, but it was a hollow and mean-spirited laugh meant to demean him. ‘Oh no, not yet;notby any measure. They were gifted to me and I know nothing about the letter of which you speak. What I do know is that if I let them go, how would I keep you here? No, I have much planned for you yet and my war with theWest is yet to be won. Nowthatmy plans are known, Turia has rallied its defences, but it is only a matter of time before I take Cintar. The cities of theWest shall fall one by one until its capital becomes mine.’

 

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