The Silent Blade

by P. S. Power

  That meant he was still working when Salina and her two friends walked up. Each loaded down with various food, in baskets that had probably been purchased for that purpose, as well as a decent sized cask of something that he hoped was juice. Salina was carrying her share, even, and smiling at him, fairly prettily.

  “I forgot that it’s Volentide. I was thinking that we should hire some musicians to play for everyone? There’ll be a celebration at the palace, later in the day, but we’re here, so it would be a nice thing, for those in the market?” She seemed ready to argue the point.

  Anders just nodded.

  “I was also going to do a small bit of illusion, after we eat? Just to entertain people. You can help with that?”

  “All right. That sounds fun. I can spend some of your coin on this? I didn’t bring any of my own. I’m trying to be a bit less spoiled, so... Naturally that means getting you to waste your riches on what I want... I guess we shouldn’t do that part with the musicians, given that?”

  He shrugged.

  “I have a bit more inside, in a box. It won’t hurt to spend a little. I don’t need much, so I haven’t really been doing that.”

  Mikail looked around then, and then stared at Anders.

  “Hire three sets, and have them move to the other quarters of the market? That will pull some of the people from here. Also, you have enough to pay for treats and drinks?”

  He doubted that, but shrugged.

  “I don’t know. I’ll pass the coin to Salina, and you can help her decide how to spend it?”

  That seemed to work, even if Mikail seemed suddenly edgy, as if he’d spoken on the wrong topic and now people were going to be angry with him. Spending the coin put it into the hands of people who would use it to feed their families, though, so it wasn’t going to be about that, specifically. He truly did have more. Even there, in the shop. At least he was only planning to hand over the little box of coins. When he did that, no one gasped in shock at the massive wealth he was sharing, but there was no indication that he was stinting the public, either.

  Salina just took it, set the small wooden box aside, and ate, with the rest of them. Since it was time to do that. You didn’t get up and go to play or even work during a meal. Not unless it was an emergency. When they finished and Lissa cleaned up for everyone, Salina and her guard friends went out into the market again.

  Then, instead of a calm, tiny event, with him doing some small illusions for twenty people, the girl and Prince Erold ruined his whole plan, by making a large earthen container, easily big enough for four horses to drink from, and then filling the things with half hand sized pieces of ice. With a sign saying it was free, for the celebration.

  It was hot out, so people started to come for the free treat, almost instantly.

  As Anders started to make those illusions, wondering if anyone was going to notice, at all. They did, as it turned out. When Salina came back, there being music in the distance drew some people off. Mainly because it was too crowded around him to really see anything. Anders took to making floating amusements, so that people could see them, over the heads of others.

  Large, impressively glowing birds, rainbows that followed certain people around and finally, a massive seeming rain storm, that only covered a small area. The people under it felt the rain, but when it stopped, they weren’t even damp.

  People liked all of that, but they were happy with the hired musicians and loved the free ice. At mid-afternoon, almost at the normal closing time for the small healing shop, they walked back to the palace. No one followed them, or begged for coins or favors at all. Both Salina and Lissa were asked to dance however, and Salina was asked a question by a man that had her making an upset face, while the fellow and his friends laughed. At least until they noticed the guards. Then the young men scurried off as if they might just be about to die.

  Most of the trip back was normal enough. Even getting through the gate, just using the front one, was fine. It wasn’t until they were in the main palace building, where they were all staying, that they heard the yelling. It wasn’t screaming, but it wasn’t festive sounding, either. More like commands being called out, in deep voices.

  Mikail waved at a guard who was running past.

  “What has transpired?”

  The man, a younger fellow, with dark skin and a red silk outfit on, looked pained.

  “Prince Naveed has been stabbed. Many times.” He seemed bleak, as if it was dire and not something easily fixed.

  Anders fixed him with a gaze.

  “Where?”

  The man swallowed.

  “In the back, near the neck, and over his chest. I couldn’t tell much else.”

  He nearly snapped but didn’t waste the time.

  “Understood. Where is he now? We have several healers here.” That was more or less a simple fact. Salina wasn’t the best healer in the world, but she was far from the worst, at the same time. Anders sounded almost calm about the whole thing.

  The red guard fellow went wide eyed.

  “His quarters. This way!”

  They ran then. All of them. There were several people in with the Prince, but he was still alive, and on his bed, face down, as they tried, and failed, to stop the bleeding using towels and compresses.

  “Move in... Three... Two... One!”

  He readied the spells then, chanting them without stopping.

  “Nisk soloa, fen!” It was a stopgap measure only, but the skin sealed, stopping the loss of blood. The hundred or so wounds closed, though Anders knew that wasn’t going to stop the internal bleeding.

  He worked on that then, which took a very long time. Repairing the small veins and tiny internal structures, then removing the scars that he’d just made. Not for vanity reasons, but because at least some of them were going to cut off blood flow. Then he had to repair the fine fibers that were needed for instructions inside the body.

  It meant searching with his mind, focusing on a level that caused the rest of the room to vanish, after a fashion. He was no longer aware of it, at any rate. All of this went on for a long time. So much so that there was no daylight left when he finally broke from the trance. Prince Naveed alive and healed.

  Lissa was by his side, so he nodded.

  “Now we see if the blood loss was too great. Can you drink water or other fluids, do you think?” That was for the Prince, who coughed, lightly. It wasn’t pained sounding. Not now. It had been. Even after the wheezing had stopped.

  Still, it was very soft.

  “I think I can, Prince Anders. Thank you for your timely assist...” The man passed out then, from exhaustion.

  “We’ll need water. Soft foods as well, if he can eat at all. He’s fine though, I think. I mean, he’ll live, now. Being attacked isn’t a good thing, even if the wounds are gone. Did anyone see who did it?”

  The answer to that was simply no. Not that it took hours to find a suspect. Actually, he asked after the same person that Lissa did, as Salina hissed and Erold closed his eyes. It wasn’t to hide from anything, either.

  “Is Prince Lassa available?” He didn’t make an accusation of it, since crimes didn’t work that way. It was just the last person he’d seen who had been a bit stab prone and who might have a grudge against Naveed.

  Then, it could also have been someone else, simply capitalizing on that idea. One of the servants ran off, calling out as they did.

  “Prince Lassa! You are summoned to Prince Naveed’s chamber!” It was loud, though polite sounding, at the same time.

  There was no response. Not even some half hour later, when Depak Sona and Sula Darian arrived, with several women and men behind them, standing in the hallway.

  Darian looked hard, as if fighting tears, and visibly relaxed when Naveed opened his eyes and smiled. That was a bit weak, but only a little.

  “Father! I didn’t see who did it. I was hit, from behind and went down. Someone behind my door, I think. I... Truly, I didn’t see who it was. There was a call for Pr
ince Lassa, which hasn’t been answered, as of yet?”

  Anders nodded, since it wasn’t a vast stretch, to imagine he might have something to do with such an attack.

  “Which could mean anything. He might be off in the city, celebrating the day. That or going over his magical skills. He asked for the day off, and that was granted, so it isn’t at all impossible that he is simply relaxing out of earshot. We...” Anders looked at the others there, and finally locked eyes with Depak Sona. “Would you locate him, using wizardry? I can do it, but...”

  The old man didn’t make him ask twice. There was, instead, a simple nod.

  “I understand. If you do it, then it might seem as if you are proclaiming him guilty or innocent, having recently been his master. These others are all closer to him than I am, if it is the worst case. One moment while I ready myself.”

  Instead of walking into the hallway, Depak went outside, through a window, climbing out awkwardly, since he was in a trance, then he pointed upward, at the roof. That was flat at the top and no more than fifteen feet up.

  There was no speaking. Not even whispering. Others tried to speak, to ask what was meant, but the man held up his right hand, palm out. Then he pointed at Anders, to indicate who needed to deal with things.

  “Andersana fla fen ot...” He rose into the air, after whispering the words just loud enough for even he to hear. Then, after a rising high enough, he dropped, but only about a foot.

  “Fen.”

  Then he had to fight, since clearly they’d made too much noise and the masked Prince, dressed as he had been a few weeks before, suddenly attacked.

  With magic, but only using odd spells that weren’t as effective as they might have been. For instance, Anders was hit with a powerful blast of light, but not even pushed back, which might well have made him fall. Lassa didn’t try flying away either, using the hand signal for that.

  An idea that would have had Anders rolling his eyes, if not for the fact that he was in a fight. One where, he supposed, not killing the other man was the best plan. They needed to find out what he knew, first. Instead of doing that, making him burn or explode, Anders called out a simple spell, and hit the boy in the head ten times, as if with a phantom fist. It didn’t take him into unconsciousness, but it did distract him long enough for Anders to move on him, and kick him soundly between the thighs.

  He dropped, and started crying.

  A thing that didn’t stop, even when Anders stripped his blades away, and then kicked him over the side of the building. He lived. Mainly because Lissa caught him. Using magic, of course.

  “Hom fla fen!” That wasn’t bad, for a thing called out without preparation, Anders had to think. It didn’t make the man fly, but it stopped him about three quarters of the way to the ground, and while he landed with a thump, it was only that and not his neck breaking.

  Anders jumped down, making the complicated hand gesture he wanted with his left hand and pointing it upward. He drifted to the Earth below, rather gently. Settling without even the sound a single step might make. Only to find that Lassa was floating again. This time about ten feet up, instead of over fifteen.

  Sula Darian was pointing at him, clearly being the one doing the magic. He was gasping for breath already, however.

  “How dare you! After Prince Anders saved your life. Do you at least deny that you tried to murder my Heir?”

  Instead of simply denying things, the crying, sobbing, prince said the wrong thing.

  “He should not be your Heir! Of all here, only I am fit to rule! Now, let me down and step aside, so that I can do a good job, leading this land that you have failed, Father!”

  Anders, and the Farad inside of him agreed with the idea, knew that not speaking was the better part of decorum, at that moment. They both kept their mouths well closed. It was then, Princess Salina who spoke, aiming her words at Depak Sona.

  “He’d seem far more regal if he could manage saying that without the gasping and crying, don’t you think, Great One?”

  The Sula, clearly not pleased, but pushed to his own magical limits already, let the boy drop. He was still alive at the end, as shown by the crying. A thing which was getting annoying.

  Sula Darian huffed and heaved, fighting being ill from the work he’d just done. When he could speak, half a minute later, it was still broken. Also raw sounding. As if he’d been screaming, instead of just breathing hard.

  “There can be no more chances. Forgive me, please, Prince Anders. I know that you risked much to save him. It was, it seems, a mistake to try. Lassa, prince of Barquea no longer, you are sentenced to death. That shall take place in the morning. Guards! Arrest Lassa and throw him in the tightest cell. He cannot be allowed to escape.”

  It was an odd thing to bring up. At least Anders didn’t get it. Everyone else there seemed to, however. Even Erold, who was as strange to Barquea and their customs as Anders, frowned after a moment. It was Depak Sona who fixed him with a gaze and acted as if his lack of response meant something more than it did.

  “He was given a chance once, when you stepped in for him. That will not be allowed again.” The look with it was hard, as if the Sula hadn’t already told him that.

  He nearly gave a smart answer and mentioned that he wasn’t known for going around and saving people, in particular. It had happened a few times but the ledger read the other way thousands of times and only two or three toward the more positive. Instead of saying that, he pretended to feel sad, as if rescue had been his real plan.

  It wasn’t.

  His failure had nearly cost Naveed his life that day, already. Adding to that would aid no one.

  “I understand. Am I... to end his life?”

  Everyone looked at him as if he were an idiot then. Except for Salina.

  “No. We have people for that. You aren’t to be punished for this. It wasn’t your fault.”

  Prince Lassa was taken away, a man on either arm and a woman in a robe standing behind him, by about ten paces, ready to cast spells, if it became needed. It made sense that the palace would have people like that, but Anders hadn’t been introduced to any, so far.

  “Isn’t it my fault? I was given the task of helping him become a better person and failed. How is that not my responsibility?”

  Sula Darian, a tear running down his cheek, shook his head.

  “No, Anders. You were his keeper for some days. I his father for his entire life. If there is blame here, it lies with me. We... I’m sorry, I can’t do this at the moment. Will you see to Naveed, Salina? Perhaps, a meal later, Prince Erold? Thank you for coming to aid us in this dire time. I’m... Forgive me.” The man hurried off then, as if to hide his tears.

  Anders simply looked at the ground then, not knowing what was needed. He tried to make something up, but simply faltered in the attempt and ended up standing there for some minutes, like everyone else was.

  Salina finally made a face.

  “Anders, Lissa, will you help me with Naveed? He should be safe enough, but... This could be part of a larger plot. We need to be on our guard.”

  He took a moment, then nodded, falling into a wizard’s trance.

  “I’m not getting any danger, for the moment. I’ll do a scan every hour or so.” That wasn’t exactly the case, since Lassa was in danger. A lot of it, in fact. That resonated with a part of Anders’ mind, since he desperately wanted to make certain the boy didn’t escape.

  Which led him, standing there, to dive deeper into the dark tunnels of his own mind. Some while later, Depak Sona was shaking him gently, by the right arm.

  “I’ll handle that. One can hardly blame a mother for trying. It simply cannot be allowed this time.” The Magician ran off then, with Anders wondering what he’d said.

  He was led inside, by the arm. Through the window. They just climbed in, instead of using magic to float the four feet into the air. It was more awkward than it had to be, but he allowed it. After all, everyone was probably a bit out of sorts. Anders certainly was.
>
  “I spoke of something?”

  Prince Erold understood his words and their secret meaning, so explained.

  “Lassa’s mother and an aunt of his already plot to remove him tonight and whisk him to the countryside, where he might hide. As Depak mentioned, one cannot truly blame a parent for such thinking. It’s... He tried to kill two different people. Certainly, the first one was you, Anders, so you might choose to let that pass. He tried to murder the Heir, in a foolish hope he could take over. Which, if I understand the system here, would take nearly fifty others dying first? That wouldn’t work. Not without an army at his back, when he made his demands. Even then, I’d have to think he’d die in the attempt. Instead, he just gets to die.”

  That the boy was a fool was in there. Except that it wasn’t true. Not truly. He was well educated, intelligent enough and in the end, entitled and simply wrong about how the world worked. Everyone else could see it, but to Lassa his plans had probably made complete sense.

  For a moment, as they walked into the room, still covered with blood, Anders wondered what he could have done to stop it from taking place.

  Then, as he started to clean, using magic, he understood something. Chances were, he couldn’t have stopped it at all. Even moving Lassa to a military camp would have only slowed him for a while. Why that was, he didn’t understand. After all, he didn’t mind killing, most of the time and could see it as a valid measure. Even if you had to kill fifty-eight people to reach your goal.

  His issue was that Anders couldn’t see how the boy had tricked himself into believing that kind of thing could actually work. He would have never done the same thing, because it would be stopped or blocked too easily. Also, when the first one or two people died, people were going to start noticing and taking precautions. They already were, after all, and no one was even dead, yet.

  That would be taking place.

  Even if Anders had to make certain of it himself.

  Chapter eleven