In the darkness, Raim noticed a figure moving towards them.
‘He’s Baril,’ said Draikh.
How do you know?
‘The light occasionally shines off his bald head.’
‘Baril?’ said Mhara.
Raim nodded.
‘Good. Let’s find out what’s going on.’
The priest looked as if he was about to retreat, but Mhara drew her Yun sword. ‘Baril man. You know this sword, this means I am Yun, and I can be trusted. I am a friend of the Council. We seek to stay with you for one night – we won’t bother you long.’
The whites of his eyes flickered as he stared at the sword. Finally, he bowed his head and gestured for them to follow. Raim’s mouth was set in a firm line. Most people did not want to argue with a Yun sword. He was glad the Baril weren’t so foolish as to forget that.
The priest led them through a back door of the temple. Luckily, it didn’t seem like Khareh had entered the temple yet – but it was unnerving to know he was only a stone’s throw away. Once they were inside, the Baril lit a large bowl of straw, which reflected light into the room. It was sparsely decorated, with woven straw matting on the floor.
‘Naran take me!’ the Baril said, as their faces came into proper light. ‘You are Mhara-yun.’
Mhara’s hand did not leave the hilt of her sword for an instant. ‘Yes.’
‘But you are dead!’
Mhara’s silence was enough of a reply. The Baril looked over at Raim, but did not recognize him. Only Mhara.
The Baril wrung his hands. ‘Mhara-yun, I’m afraid you have come at a difficult time.’
‘Tell me.’
‘It is Mermaden. He is here, and he is claiming sanctuary.’
‘And you cannot give it to him.’
‘No. Khareh-khan and his entire army are camped outside our doors. They will enter the temple at dawn.’
‘So he hasn’t taken Mermaden yet?’
The priest shook his head, and it was then that Raim noticed the man’s entire body was shaking. He was terrified. He wasn’t surprised – not with Khareh lurking on their doorstep. Or maybe it was from the presence of Draikh. Sometimes Raim forgot the effect the shadow had on people, even though he wasn’t dark and menacing, as ordinary shadows might be.
‘Good, that means there is still time.’
‘I can lead you to a place you can rest – but I’m afraid you won’t have long.’
‘We only need one night,’ she replied.
The priest took them one level below the ground. Raim’s room stunk of damp. There was a tiny window almost at the ceiling that let in the smallest sliver of light and air, and a low wooden cot with blankets. Raim gratefully took the bowl of rice and meat he was offered, then shut the door on the world. Once he had eaten, he crashed down onto the mattress, only carrying one thought in his head as he let sleep take him: tomorrow he would find Wadi.
24
WADI
The Baril waited for Khareh in a long line, one bald, flattened forehead after the other, occasionally broken up by the occasional Baril woman, who all wore their hair cropped short – but not quite shaven. It distinguished them from the ordinary women of the steppes, who kept their hair long. Khareh stayed on his horse as he travelled through them, regarding them all with suspicion and distrust. Wadi was the second-to-last in the convoy, with Erdene manoeuvring herself so that she was behind her. Wadi huffed inwardly at this. As if she was stupid enough to try to escape within sight of Khareh.
Still, the power of the beast she was riding was tempting. She felt the familiar itch in her fingers, the desire to take to the wind while everyone was so distracted.
She quelled that thought. Instead, she concentrated on the faces of the Baril as she rode past them. With the exception of Vlad and Zu, she had never been so close to the legendary monks before. She was curious to know where those two had come from, what kind of society had produced people who were so intelligent, and yet so arrogant.
These Baril seemed to be much more subservient in attitude than Vlad and Zu had ever been – but then again, Vlad and Zu had been oathbreakers. They clearly had a rebellious streak. Here, the Baril monks’ heads were all bowed as Khareh passed, their eyes lowered to the ground. Wadi was about to turn away, when suddenly one of the Baril women raised her eyes to look at her.
Wadi had never seen so much hatred there. It was written all over the woman’s face, in the snarl of her mouth, the flare of her nostrils. Wadi almost pulled up her horse in shock. The mare clearly noticed the sudden tension in Wadi’s body as she began to fret and shudder. Wadi placed her hand on her horse’s neck, calming her, and when she flicked her eyes back to the woman, she was gone. Melted away as if she had never been there. Wadi looked over her shoulder at Erdene, but Erdene’s gaze was on the other side of the line-up. She stretched up in her saddle to try to see over the heads of the Baril, but even though there was nothing but empty space beyond, she couldn’t see where the woman had gone.
Wadi’s stomach churned.
She thought about telling someone. But then whom would she tell? In front of her was Khareh, behind her Erdene – neither would listen to her. Then there was Imal, who thought she was only plotting to escape. She kept her mouth shut, and her eyes focused on the chestnut mane of her horse. Nothing good could come of saying a random Baril priestess had frightened her. Why wouldn’t they hate her? She looked like she belonged to Khareh’s inner circle. If she saw herself, she would probably feel the same surge of hatred. They wouldn’t be able to see from their vantage point that her wrists were still bound together by a length of rope. That she was Khareh’s prisoner, albeit a privileged one.
But there was something about that woman’s gaze that felt like something stronger than hate. It haunted her as they approached the gates of Pennar and entered the magnificent temple.
Wadi was reminded of the temple in Lazar, although everything here was wood rather than stone. Lacquered wooden carvings ran along the top of every doorframe in a web of interconnecting lines. There was a small pool of water in the very centre of the first courtyard, with a wooden island in the middle of that. A miniature tree grew on the island, with branches that spread like the wisps of clouds.
Once Erdene entered the courtyard, two Baril closed the gates behind them, and Khareh dismounted. The others followed suit, although Erdene came over to help Wadi down without breaking her neck. She hated needing anyone’s help, but while her hands was bound, there was no real way for her to do it safely.
‘Khareh-khan, welcome to Pennar. I’m sorry that it has to be under these circumstances—’
Khareh didn’t let the priest finish. ‘Bring me the prisoner.’
‘He’s locked up inside, Your Grace. If you would come in . . .’
‘I have no desire to see inside. Bring him out here.’
‘Do as your khan says!’ said Erdene, who drew her Yun sword. The Baril threw up his hands, clasped them together in front of him, and bowed.
‘Right away.’ He disappeared back into the temple.
‘Erdene?’
‘Yes, my Khan.’
‘Find somewhere in Pennar that will serve as a cell.’
‘For Mermaden?’
Khareh laughed. ‘No, not for Mermaden. Mermaden is going to get a much more public incarceration, back at our camp. No, I mean for Wadi. The events tonight are going to make the camp chaotic and frenzied. I won’t be able to keep as close an eye on her as I would like, and I don’t want that to result in losing my most precious prisoner.’
Wadi wished the ground would open her up and swallow her whole. She had been lulled by Khareh’s attitude – letting her, instead of Altan, ride the horse here, talking to her like she was someone he trusted. Now she was going to be locked away – in a proper cell – for the first time since she had been held captive.
Erdene stepped over and placed her hand firmly on Wadi’s shoulder. She squeezed it in a movement that was meant to be either reassuring
or dominant – Wadi wasn’t sure. She was in no position to protest, though. Erdene pushed Wadi, and she stumbled towards the entrance of the main temple building.
‘You brought this on yourself, you know,’ Erdene said, once they were out of earshot of Khareh.
‘I know.’ She gulped. She caught a glimpse of a lavishly decorated room beyond one of the doors, but that’s not where Erdene was directed to take her. Instead, a monk showed them down a flight of stairs leading deep underground, and the smell of damp and rot invaded her nostrils. Khareh had been right – this temple, for all its beauty, had not been well constructed. ‘Do you think he’s going to leave me here?’ she said, panic suddenly welling up in her throat. If Khareh imprisoned her for good, she could do nothing to thwart his plans.
‘Somehow, I think not. He needs you, doesn’t he?’
‘I suppose so.’ For once, she felt grateful for the pendants around her neck.
‘I think he just wants you out of sight of what is to come. More for your sake than anything else. I somehow doubt he is going to be merciful to Mermaden.’
‘Will you tell me what he does?’
Erdene set her mouth in a firm line, but only so that she could prevent herself from grinning. The corners of her mouth pulled upwards. ‘Only if Khareh-khan doesn’t ask me otherwise.’
At the bottom of the stairs, they came to a long hallway, with wooden doors placed at even intervals on both sides. Wadi swallowed, hard. ‘Are these the cells?’
Erdene shrugged. ‘I’ve only been here once before, but this is where some of the more junior monks live. Pennar isn’t exactly a prison; it is not built for housing captives – but they have a few barred cells for badly behaved monks further along.’
She led her down the hallway. As they passed one door the hairs on the back of Wadi’s neck stood on end, her palms suddenly becoming clammy inside their bonds. An involuntary shudder rocked her body. It was a familiar feeling . . . of shadow. She looked from side to side, but there was nothing in the narrow hallway. She looked up at Erdene, who was showing no sign of anything amiss except for a bead of sweat that had appeared on her forehead. They were underground, and it was cool.
What is behind those doors? Wadi thought.
They turned down yet another hallway, and through a heavy wooden door with a small window in the top. It opened onto a corridor with a lighted torch hanging on the wall. The flame glinted against something: the iron bars of a row of cells. Erdene took a set of keys from beneath her tunic, and undid the lock on the first cell. Wadi shuffled inside. It was an empty room – with nothing that even closely resembled a bed, or a chamber pot. She turned around.
Erdene shut the door behind her. Wadi put her hands around the iron bars and gave them a weak tug, even though she knew it was futile. This time, Erdene really grinned at her. ‘Here,’ she said. She took her cloak from around her shoulders, and passed it through the bars. ‘At least have something to lie on.’
Wadi took it, surprised at the girl’s generosity. Then Erdene spun on her heel and was gone.
Wadi was alone.
25
RAIM
‘Are these the cells?’
The words sent chills running up and down his spine. He recognised that voice. He rushed to the door of his room, pressed his nose to the wood, his eye to a crack, but it was so dark he could hardly see a thing. He wanted to open the door, but as the people moved past, he didn’t want to draw attention. He saw the flicker of a torch rounding a corner, the retreating figure of a tall woman, though he couldn’t see her face. Her cloak swept up as she turned the corner and Raim thought he caught a glimpse of a shimmer at the woman’s side. The shimmer of a Yun sword. Mhara had warned him there might be Yun presence here too. He just hadn’t expected to see it so soon.
Not long ago, maybe an hour, if that, Mhara had come in to wake him. Despite all the anxiety, he had slept longer and deeper than he had in an age. Somehow, though, it made him feel even groggier than usual, sleep clouding his thoughts as Mhara spoke in insistent whispers.
‘Khareh is nearby. He sent two Yun to make sure the prisoner was here: the girl, Erdene, and a Yelak Yun, Imal. Both would recognize me.’
Raim blinked sleep from his eyes and waited for his sight to adjust to the semi-darkness. ‘I’m not so sure Erdene would, not with your new hair.’ He didn’t want to mention the fact of her gaunt face and the new scars that criss-crossed her body. She looked like a woman brought back to life, which was exactly what she was.
Mhara nodded. ‘But Imal would. We trained together as apprentices. I must be careful. Khareh will come next.’
‘Was there sign of Wadi?’
‘You say she would look more Alashan than Darhanian?’
‘Yes.’
‘I saw no one of that description, but as I said – Khareh only sent a small entourage this way. She may well be being kept prisoner deep within the army camp.’
Raim cracked his knuckles. ‘I will get to her.’ He stood up and pulled on the fresh tunic that Mhara offered him.
‘No, it’s too dangerous right now. When Khareh comes, he will have this entire place locked down. But once he has the prisoner, he’ll want to put on a public display for his execution. That’s when you make your move. Amid all the confusion and revelry. Find Wadi, then get out of here to meet Tarik. Nothing else.’
‘When I make my move? What about you?’ Raim asked.
Mhara avoided his eye. ‘I won’t be with you.’
‘What do you mean?’ Suddenly his heart stopped at the thought of his old mentor not being with him. ‘You said you were going to come south with me?’
‘I have my own promise to fulfil,’ she said. Her eyes flicked to his. ‘If we plan it just right then you will be able to get out, and I’ll be able to—’
Draikh moved to Raim’s side and put a ghostly hand on Raim’s shoulder. Raim understood. ‘No, stop, Mhara. I can’t know. If I know, I might try to stop you. I won’t be able to help myself. But – will I see you again?’
Mhara shook her head. ‘I don’t know. But Raim . . . be careful.’ Mhara swept aside the cloak, which rested over her shoulder, to show Raim the holster of her Yun sword. She put her hand on the hilt, and held it there for a second. Then she drew it. The magnificent weapon seemed to fill the entire room with light with its brilliance. Encased within the glass-like sword was her promise-knot to Batar-khan. ‘Maybe it would be better if you went straight to the South without looking for Wadi. There is still time. You know the place where you can meet Tarik – go there.’
‘No.’
Mhara stared at him, but Raim was no longer her apprentice to be quelled with a glance.
‘You might not have a choice. But I do. And I choose to try to rescue. Don’t worry. My plan doesn’t involve getting caught. Plus, I have Draikh and – I guess, somewhere – Lady Chabi, who will do everything in her power not to see me die before I go south. But if there’s an opportunity to find Wadi, then I have to take it.’
Mhara still stared at him, but he thought – or maybe he hoped – he saw a measure of respect in her eyes.
And then she had left him, to await his fate.
Hearing Wadi’s voice outside his door only reinforced his belief that he had made the right decision. His heart swelled at the thought of seeing her again. This must have been ordained by the gods.
‘That was her, wasn’t it, Draikh?’ he asked. He couldn’t really believe that he could be so lucky.
‘I’d know that voice anywhere,’ the shadow replied, and Raim was glad to hear he sounded as determined as Raim felt.
He pumped a fist in the air. Once she was free, then they could both escape in the mayhem of Mermaden’s likely execution, get to the ship, and go south: together. Once he was free from his vow he could return to Darhan and try to win the hearts of the people – or he and Wadi could leave to find their own place in the world. A destiny not dictated to them by a strange Council, or bound to them by oaths neither of them want
ed: the knot around Raim’s wrist, and the stone around Wadi’s neck.
It took all of the willpower he possessed not to rush out there and take down the woman that was with Wadi and free her then and there. He had his Yun training, as well as the power of surprise.
But then – just few moments later, the woman came striding back down the hallway. Raim could hear her heavy boots as she thundered around the corner. Raim’s heart stopped for a moment as the boots stopped in front of his door. Raim’s fingers closed around the hilt of the sword, ready to strike at any moment. But the woman only sighed and then moved on. Wadi wasn’t with her. That meant she had to have been left close by.
Raim let out a long breath.
He waited a few seconds, and then pressed his hand against the door and inched it open. The hallway was silent. He slipped out, and Draikh followed. He crept in the direction the women had gone, his boots making just a soft shuffle on the stone floor. He rounded one corner, and then another, and then he saw the flickering of a light up ahead, through a small window in a wooden door. His breath quickened.
The door was not locked. He pushed it open to find a long hallway, lined with cells, and another door at the far end.
He heard the sound of an iron bar rattling. ‘Erdene?’ said a female voice.
Raim ran down the hallway. ‘Wadi!’
‘Oh, Sola . . . Raim?’ Her hands came shooting through the iron bars as Raim approached. They pulled each other into an embrace, the cold iron forming a barrier between them. ‘What are you doing here?’ she cried.
‘I’ve come to free you!’ said Raim, taking a split second to relish the sound of her voice.
‘Thank the gods!’
They eventually separated and Raim ran his fingers along the gate until he found the lock. ‘I should be able to break this . . .’
‘How did you know I was here?’
The Shadow’s Curse Page 13