It didn’t take long for some of the younger children to start complaining, but those around them did their best to keep their spirits up. A few teachers moved up and down the group to make sure that everyone was coping and drinking plenty of water. They didn’t have time to stop for breakfast, so Wren and the others ate some bread and cheese as they walked.
Not once did Garvey come and check on any of the students or alter his pace. He marched ahead of everyone else and expected them to follow without question. Wren was glad they were going to meet up with the others as she would not like to be stuck with him alone.
After a while Wren lost track of time. She knew they had been walking for several hours as people were complaining about being tired and hungry again. Her own feet were a little sore and her calves were aching from going uphill for so long. The teachers were doing their best to relieve any complaints, but it was becoming more challenging with every passing mile. Wren saw a couple of teachers move to the front to speak with Garvey and each time they rejoined the group, ashen-faced or annoyed.
It was only when one of the youngest children collapsed that the group slowly wound to a halt. The message was passed along and everyone gratefully stopped to catch their breath. With obvious reluctance Garvey agreed, allowing them a short break before continuing.
All the teachers had been watching the path behind them but as far as she could tell there were no signs of pursuit. Periodically one of them would fall back and catch up to them later down the track but none showed any signs of alarm. As far as she knew they were alone and yet Garvey would not relent. He wouldn’t even sit down and walked among the group, but his eyes remained on the land around them.
“Eat something quickly. We need to get moving again soon,” he said.
Everyone was tired, anxious and yet unwilling to disagree with him. If not for the danger that seemed to be following them Wren would have voiced her objection. They could not keep up this pace for long.
Garvey paused in his circuit of the group next to Wren and idly glanced around, before asking “Something you wish to say?” Perhaps she was not as schooled at keeping her emotions off her face as she realised.
Before she had a chance to reply there was a cry of alarm, followed by a general clamour as people turned to look to the east, back along their path.
There was a light on the horizon, a flickering glow and a huge cloud of smoke. Rising above it she could just see the top of a bloody red needle that managed to cause unease, even at this distance. They all knew what was happening without being told.
The Red Tower was burning.
CHAPTER 33
Rain rattled against the windows of the sitting room in the palace as Tammy waited for the Queen. Normally she visited the Queen in her meeting room where she conducted most of the day’s business, but tonight she’d been asked to wait in this snug. Bookshelves filled with works of fiction lined the walls either side of a fireplace. The only furniture in the room was two huge chairs filled with bright cushions. Every day she came hoping that the royal physician would tell her that the Old Man was fit enough to return home and every day she left disappointed.
When the door behind her opened Tammy only glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see the grumpy physician.
“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” said the Khevassar. “I’m not dead yet.”
“No, Sir. Of course not. I just wasn’t expecting you. Does this mean—”
“No more sitting around reading for me,” said the Old Man, gesturing at the bookshelves with irritation. “They’re all fiction. Ridiculous.”
As he moved around the room grumbling about being confined Tammy noted his colour was a lot better than she had seen it in the last few months. It looked as if he’d put on a bit of weight and the shadows under his eyes had faded too. He was still an old man, but he no longer looked as if he was at death’s door.
“Can you believe it?” he asked. Tammy had only been listening to his complaints with one ear, but she shook her head sympathetically.
“A terrible ordeal, Sir. Are you ready to go?”
“Yes, before that idiot changes his mind again.” He gestured for her to follow him and together they walked down the now familiar halls of the palace towards the first of many doors and gates. They were almost out of the main building itself when a voice called out, stopping Tammy in her tracks.
“Guardian Baker?”
She turned on her heel and bowed slightly. Beside her the Old Man bowed as well. “Yes, Majesty?”
Queen Morganse was still at work at this late hour, composing a letter to a scribe who waited with his pen poised above the page. She looked tired but even dressed in a plain blue dress she made it look stylish. “Take care of him. He’s not as tough as he thinks.”
“I can hear you!” said the Khevassar. “There’s nothing wrong with my ears.”
“I will, Majesty,” said Tammy, ignoring his grumbling. Morganse gave the Old Man a worried look and then turned back to the scribe, her expression turning grave.
They walked in silence for a while before she asked. “What was that about?”
“Hmm?”
“The Queen looked troubled. I’ve not seen her that worried before.”
“She told me earlier this evening. She’s signing a national ban on Seekers in Yerskania.”
Tammy sucked at her teeth. “Is that wise?”
“I don’t know,” admitted the Old Man. “But she’s trapped. You know what’s going on out there. There was already mounting pressure and now there are reports of Seekers killing people in the name of Balfruss. She had little choice.”
“Balfruss would never order that.” She said it with absolute confidence. “He is not to blame.”
“I believe you, but someone is determined to paint the Red Tower and everyone associated with it as killers. It’s everyone else you need to convince.”
Tammy brooded on it as they walked through the grounds to the final gate. She briefly waved at Riona, but her mind was elsewhere, turning the problem and other things over in her mind.
By the time they made it onto the street the rain had stopped. They’d been walking for a while towards Unity Hall when he tapped her on the arm.
“Slow down a little,” said the Old Man, bringing her back to the present. “You walk fast when you’re not paying attention.”
“I’m sorry, Sir. My mind was elsewhere.”
“Let me rest for a minute,” he said, gesturing at one of the footbridges crossing the River Kalmei. They paused halfway across and he leaned against the railing, a little out of breath.
“I need to ask you something important, and I want an honest answer.” Tammy glanced at the Old Man to make sure he understood the seriousness of what she was saying. “Don’t fence words with me. Not about this.”
“Ask your question.”
“Did you know?” she asked and he raised an eyebrow. “Did you know all this time who killed my husband?”
The Old Man took a deep breath and peered into the rushing water before speaking. “No, I didn’t know.”
“But it was you who leaked the information to Kovac.”
“Like Dońa Jarrow I’ve had people looking into it for a long time. But no one would talk, especially to a Guardian, while she was alive. Even after her death it took a while to find someone because she’d been mixed up in that business with the Flesh Mage.” The Khevassar laughed and she had the impression it was at himself. “I used to inspire that kind of fear.” He turned away from the water and studied her face. “I just made sure the information found its way to Kovac and he did the rest. I take it you’ve found out who killed your husband?”
“Yes. But why do this now?”
“Because it was the one thing holding you back.” He said it as if it was the most obvious thing in the world about her. As if he could read her as easily as a page in a book.
“From what?”
“Tammy, I’m an old man. I’ve denied it for a long time an
d until very recently I’ve not had any serious health problems. The will is still there, but my body and now even my mind isn’t up to the task any more. I can’t push myself as hard as I used to.” Much to her surprise he tentatively reached out and gently held one of her hands in both of his. The skin on his hands was soft but it also felt thin and brittle. “I don’t have any children of my own, but, if I did, I would want a daughter like you.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Very soon, if you want it, you will replace me and become the Khevassar.”
Tammy waited for him to say something else but he remained silent, watching her intently. For a moment she was certain she’d misheard him but the look on his face told her everything. Surprise and then shock rolled through her and she swayed on her feet, reaching out to grip the railings with one hand. He still held on to her other hand, anchoring her.
“I don’t know what to say.”
“You need to understand what I’m offering you.” He let go of her hand and part of Tammy felt as if she might drift away into the sky as she had once in a dream. This conversation didn’t seem real. “To become what I am you must leave behind everything that you were. There must be no leverage that people can use against you. The mystery surrounding your husband’s murder hampered you. It was always there, lurking and weighing you down.”
He spoke with such confidence she couldn’t understand how he could know so much. Even with his remarkable talent for reading people this bordered on the supernatural.
“Imagine if someone else had found out about it before you. They could have used it to blackmail you. If you take on the office, you will have no name, no past and no family. You must be untouchable by outside forces. You will answer to the Queen, and perhaps, in time, her successor. When you walk into that meeting room and offer Queen Morganse advice, she will listen. You will direct all of the Guardians both here in the city and abroad. It is the greatest challenge you will ever face.”
He paused, giving her time to try and process everything. At the far side of the bridge a street seller had a stall with warm pastries stuffed with apple and cinnamon. He wandered over and bought two, handing her one. Tammy ate it slowly, savouring the gooey spicy taste as she thought on what he’d said. When she was done her fingers were covered with crumbs and her mouth tingled from the seasoning.
“What about my family?” she asked. “Would they be safe?”
“Only three people know about them, myself and two other Guardians. If you took the job then you’d have to give them up as well. Your name would be removed from certain documents, as well any references to your past. If you want this, you would have to give up Kovac as well.”
Tammy realised that a long time ago someone must have given him the same speech. In recent years they’d become close, but even so she’d not spent much time thinking about who he used to be and what he’d given up for the position. In all the time she’d known him, working for Don Lowell, as a member of the Watch and finally a Guardian, he’d been an untouchable force in the city. The heads of the crime Families didn’t respect many of those on the side of law and order, but they all had grudging admiration for the Old Man. He’d outlived and outlasted many of them, faced down countless disasters at home and abroad, and was still here to talk about it. No one had ever been able to corrupt him or use him for their purpose. He was an implacable force for justice and that demanded a level of respect.
“I’m sure you’ll understand when I say I know what I’m asking you to give up. Perhaps I’m the only one who can understand. Take some time to think about it, but can I suggest something in the meantime?”
“Sir?”
“Your husband’s murder. Settle it, one way or another. Only then will you be able to think about my offer with a clear mind. You know where to find me if you want to talk.”
He turned to walk away but she reached and caught his arm, stopping him in his tracks. “That’s why you’ve been sending me abroad all these years. You were training me for this.”
The Old Man’s smile lit up his whole face. “Every year I send a few Guardians abroad to help all over the world, but most have never left the city, never mind the country. The Khevassar is there to protect Yerskania, but they must also be worldly. You’ve lived and worked beside so many different people. You’re the ideal candidate for the job.”
“Just how long have you been preparing for this?” she asked.
“I knew this day would come. I just didn’t know when.” It wasn’t really an answer but Tammy sensed that was all she’d get from him for the time being. “I told you that one day you would be faced with a difficult choice. So choose, but do so quickly.”
He left her standing on the middle of the bridge staring into the water, her thoughts running in many directions. The choice ahead was not one she had ever considered and, now that it was here, she didn’t know what to do. Tammy had never been someone to second-guess herself, but now she did.
The challenge ahead seemed impossible and yet the Old Man had done it, becoming a figure almost out of myth in the process. No one knew anything about him and in thirty years’ time, if she took on the mantle, would anyone remember her? She would be estranged from her family, but she’d almost done that already, believing them better off without her. If she took on the role of Khevassar it would mean never seeing them ever again and denying all knowledge of them.
The cost of taking on the job was high and she wondered if it would be worth it in the long run.
She had always judged herself by what she accomplished and thought she would be a Guardian for the rest of her life. Now she was being offered an opportunity to do more than she’d ever be able to achieve working alone. It wasn’t a question of wanting it, only if she were willing to pay the price.
CHAPTER 34
As the sun rose above the trees Choss closed his eyes and turned towards it, warming the skin on his face and neck. For a little while he was able to forget everything that was about to happen. Forget everyone around him and just soak up the heat like a cat in a pool of sunlight. All too soon thoughts of the present began to intrude and his moment of peace faded.
Standing beside him on the wall was an assortment of teachers and staff. Most of the teachers had gone with the children to protect them, but those who had chosen to stay behind were either too old for such a journey or simply too stubborn.
Although Master Jorey was a grandmother she was fit enough to have travelled with the others but had chosen to remain. When Choss had asked her why, all she’d said was “I don’t have the energy to start all over again.”
Her family was far away from here, spread out across the west, sailing aboard a fleet of merchant vessels, running a business that she had founded. She’d said coming to the Red Tower was to be her final chapter but Choss suspected she hadn’t thought it would end this soon.
Standing to his left was one of the cooks, Mellor, a surprisingly thin man given his profession, with red hair and freckles. Mellor had no wife or children of his own, but it had been clear since Choss first met him that he cared deeply about the children. The students never saw how much time and thought he put into preparing their meals, but he was usually the first in the kitchen in the mornings and the last to leave at night. Bursting with nervous energy he sampled food all day and never put on any weight. Even now, standing on the wall holding a sword like a butter knife, one of his legs jigged up and down in an endless rhythm.
The rest of those defending the school came from a variety of backgrounds and professions, but only a few had been soldiers or warriors. The rest had no experience of being in a battle. Choss had more knowledge than most, but even he’d never experienced a siege. It didn’t really matter. To an outsider approaching the Red Tower all they would see was a lot of defenders manning the top of the wall. It might be enough to make them hesitate.
The people on their way would be a mob, not a formal, disciplined army. And every hour the defenders kept them here, it gave the child
ren that much more time to escape. That was all their defence was designed to do, delay the inevitable. Just one of the teachers could keep a mob at bay with magic by themselves, but they wouldn’t do it. It would only scare the mob even more. Make them more terrified of what magic could do and the danger they thought it represented. Fighting fire with fire would make the situation that much worse.
The plan was simple. They would hold the line as long as possible and then Choss and a few others would fall back and run. There were horses already saddled and well provisioned for a journey. Not enough for everyone, but some of the defenders had never intended to leave.
As long as the children were safe that was all that really mattered to him and the others. Samuel was among them, no doubt confused and scared about being without his parents or grandmother, but Choss was confident Munroe would find their son. With a bit of luck he would also be reunited with Samuel in a few days, once he’d led any pursuers on a merry chase around the countryside. The real difficulty would be telling Munroe that her mother had decided to stay behind. Samara had known her illness was fatal before the healers confirmed it. She’d been living on borrowed time and this was her final trip to the Red Tower. At least this way she was able to choose the time and place of her death, on her feet, not lying down in a bed, gasping for air. She came up the ladder to the top of the wall, a bow slung over her shoulder and a bristling quiver on her hip.
“Been a long time since I hunted with one of these,” she said. The others shuffled down the wall a bit, giving her enough space to stand beside Choss.
“Well, they’re going to be a lot slower than a rabbit or a deer,” he said.
“Bigger target, too, which is a good thing with my eyesight.”
They’d never exactly been close, and were only related through marriage, but Choss had always admired Samara. It must have been difficult for her, raising a daughter by herself in a city like Perizzi. Despite everything, she had found a way. There had been distance between Munroe and her mother for a long time, but over the last six or seven years the gap had shrunk. Little Sam was the bridge between all of them, and slowly they’d become a family in more than name.
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