by William King
She put a smile on her face, even though they probably could not see it and shouted, “I am an Emissary from the East. I wish to speak to the Lady Asea.”
“Give me one good reason for not having you killed?” Asea said.
Tamara knew how close to death she stood. Her dragon had been taken away to join the western flights. Both Rik and Karim had weapons drawn, and Asea was garbed in her full battle armour. Soldiers ringed the tent. Glowglobes burned so brightly that there were no shadows present for her to vanish into. She eyed Asea with cool insolence and said, “Because I have information you might find useful and a proposition that may save your life.”
“Go on,” said Asea.
Tamara shrugged. “I know what Rik is. You know what I am. That knowledge could get all of us placed upon a pyre.”
“All the more reason for silencing you forever,” said Asea. Her voice was softer now though and her manner more conciliatory. She was turning things over in her head, trying to work out all the angles. “Given who you are and what you have done, I cannot trust you within striking distance of myself or Rik.”
“No more than I can trust you. I think we will have to rely on the fact that we have shared interests and common enemies.”
“And who would those be?”
“The Princes of Shadow.”
The temperature in the tent seemed to dip. Karim raised himself up on his toes ready to strike. Tamara cocked her head to one side, and smiled winningly. “I see that comes as no surprise to you,” she said. “Oh dear, I was rather hoping for a more dramatic response. Gasps of amazement and horror, that sort of thing.”
“These are not matters for levity,” said Asea. “Your father served the Princes all of his long life. I have no reason to believe that you do not either.”
“You are right about my father. You are wrong about me. At least in part.”
“I don’t think that is possible. You are either serve the Princes or you don’t. They do not allow any other choice in the matter.”
“Perhaps not on Al’Terra but we are not on the homeworld now. For you and my father the Princes were real. Their deeds were something you experienced. Their power was something that you encountered. For me they were little more than a myth, a belief of my father’s that I humoured, the way I humour the humans who believe in the Prophets.”
“And something happened to change your mind?”
“I found out my father was right and I was wrong and I found out that I am not cut out to serve.”
“Die on your feet rather than live on your knees? Surprisingly noble sentiments for an assassin.”
“I would prefer living on my feet to dying on my knees which I think are my current options.”
“We shall see what happens,” said Asea. “For the moment, your life is in my hands. What is this information you have for me?”
“I tried to kill Xephan,” said Tamara.
“The Prime Minister? That was ambitious of you.”
“The Empress commanded me to do it. She is afraid of him.” Tamara swiftly explained the circumstances surrounding her precipitous departure from Sardea. She sensed Asea’s unwillingness to believe and deliberately kept her delivery as flat as possible. She did not seek to elicit sympathy, merely to convey the facts. She talked of the Black Mirror and the great spell being cast in the vaults of the Palace.
After she had finished there was silence. It was obvious that none of her listeners knew exactly what to say. At least they had not laughed at her or told her she was lying.
“It all fits,” said Rik. Tamara had to fight to stop herself from shooting him a grateful look. Asea nodded but then glared at Tamara. “That does not mean I trust you.”
“I do not ask you to do so. But believe me, I have no more love for Xephan and his cronies than you do. And they dislike me as much as you now.”
“That remains to be seen,” said Asea.
“I can help you,” she said. “And you can help me.”
“In what way?”
“I can train Rik,” she said. “I can turn him into what you want him to be.”
Asea’s stare became a fraction more arctic. Tamara could almost see the cogs turning in her brain as she made her calculations. “And what would you want in return?”
At least they were in a negotiating situation now. Tamara weighed out her own words carefully. “I want your protection. I want a place in the new order if you win. And I want another chance to kill Xephan. You will help me with your knowledge.”
Asea measured her, and came to a decision. “I will think about it but in the meantime you will accept truesilver chains.”
“And if I refuse?”
“I will kill you. You are too dangerous to let go free. Do you accept?”
Tamara felt trapped. When she was in the chains there was no way she could use her powers to escape. She would be entirely in Asea's hands. On the other hand, if she did not accept she might never leave this place alive. She doubted that she could overcome all three of them in combat.
There were other options. She could agree now and seek to escape later before she was put in chains. She could try and open a shadow path now and depart before they could stop her. Of course, that would leave her in the midst of an army of her foes, and with no more protection against Xephan and his ilk than she had before she came here, even assuming she could escape.
Asea’s gaze was fixed upon her. And she realised that the sorceress was simply waiting for her to try something. If she made any attempt to get away she would be confirming Asea’s suspicions.
And there was something else. She did not want Xephan to rule Sardea and she did not want the Princes of Shadow to rule this world. She had made her decision instinctively during that first assassination attempt. In her bones, she was his enemy. She would oppose him with her life if necessary. If it was a choice between serving him or Asea, she would choose Asea rather than that otherworldly horror. She straightened her shoulders. “Very well then, I agree to your terms."
“ Karim -- bring the chains!” said Asea with a smile of triumph.
Karim produced fetters from one of the massive travelling chests and fixed her arms behind her back. He was not gentle. The chains went into place with a loud click.
Chapter Seventeen
“What do you think?” Rik asked.
“About what?” Asea replied. Tamara had been taken from the tent in chains, and was now under guard by the Foragers. Rik hoped they would not do anything stupid. The last time Tamara had encountered the Barbarian and Weasel, she had left the big man badly wounded. He was not normally the sort to be vindictive but you never knew. His pride had been hurt by being overcome by what he would describe as a slip of a girl.
“About Tamara.”
“I honestly have no idea, Rik. She seems sincere but she might have been sent here on some mission by the Empress or Xephan. She might have been sent to find out what we know or what we suspect. She could have been sent here to kill any one of us.”
“Do you think that’s likely?”
“If she had been sent on an assassination mission it would be much easier for her to simply wait in the shadows for an opportune moment then strike. No, it’s something deeper than that.”
“Or she’s telling the truth.”
“I do not entirely discount that possibility.”
“Can you probe her mind?”
“She is too good a sorceress for that. She will be protected. There’s no way of doing that without smashing her sanity. And if she is telling the truth I would rather not do it. I would prefer to have her on my side.”
“Do you think that she really will train me?”
“If she has not been sent to kill you, it’s possible she’s been sent to win you to her side. Or to corrupt you.”
“I doubt she could do that.”
“You do not know what she is capable of, or what powers she might possess.”
“I meant I doubt that she could make me any more c
orrupt than I already am.”
“She might surprise you.” A look of concern passed over Asea’s face. “Do not hate yourself, Rik. You are not responsible for what happened with the Quan.”
“If I am not, who is?”
Rik felt compelled to mention the other question that was praying on his mind. “I am surprised she agreed to the chains so easily.”
“So am I, Rik. I am starting to wonder what Tamara may have up her sleeve.”
“What has happened to your prisoner?” asked Inquisitor Joran.
“I have her under lock and key.”
Rik did not like the interest the High Inquisitor was showing in Tamara. He seemed far too eager to get his hands on her. Of course, it was possible he was simply curious. The whole army was since Tamara had made her spectacular arrival on dragonback. Rumours abounded, that she was a royal Princess come to aid them, that she was a sorceress who knew something about the plague, that she was an Emissary of the Dragon Angel sent to tell them about the righteousness of their cause. Soldiers were worse than old women for gossiping and just as capable of spinning a story out of events they had witnessed.
“I would like to talk to her,” said Joran. At least he was being polite to Asea. He was not making demands, not asking that the prisoner be given over to him and his people for questioning. He seemed more subdued now that they were on the march. He most likely realised that Asea was more valuable to the army than he was and that her half-brother was in command. He was certainly capable of being diplomatic when he wanted to be.
“Of course,” Asea responded. “As soon as I have made sure that she is no threat to us.”
“In what way could she be a threat?”
“There could be some spell embedded in her body, of pestilence, or contagion or death. Or perhaps a curse.”
“The Lady Tamara is a high noble of Sardea. Surely no one would think of using her in such a fashion.”
Asea looked at the Inquisitor coldly. “Terrible sorcery is being used to cause this plague of walking dead.”
“But you have already been exposed to her.”
“All the more reason that no one else is until I have ascertained whether she is spellbound or not.”
“I am willing to risk myself. The Light protects its own.”
“I am unwilling to put you at risk. If anything should happen to me, you will be needed more than ever. Rest assured I will tell you everything I find out, and let you know as soon as I am certain it is safe.”
“How long will that take?”
“You will know by this evening. I do not think that is too long to wait in a case like this.”
Anger flickered across the Inquisitor’s face. He was not pleased but he did not seem prepared to push things at this moment so he bowed courteously and said. “Very well,” he said. “I shall return in at the sixth bell.”
Tamara lay in the cellar of the abandoned farmhouse to which she had been transferred, staring at the ceiling, considering what had occurred. The place was damp and the air smelled of mould. The weight of the truesilver fetters lay heavy on her and she found it oddly disturbing that she could not invoke her powers. It made her feel terribly vulnerable.
Her thoughts were interrupted when Asea entered the room. Karim was with her and Rik. They were all armed and looked ready for violence. Tamara could not help herself. “It’s flattering to know that you have such high regard for how dangerous I am,” she said.
“Flattering or not, it is the case - although in those chains your fangs are well and truly drawn.” There was an utter glacial certainty in Asea’s voice. She looked totally confident.
“Are you sure?” Tamara asked. She could not help herself. There was something about Asea’s manner that got on her nerves. She was tempted to spring at her. She knew many ways of killing with her bare hands. She wanted to wipe that smug look from Asea’s face. If the price was her life…
She pushed the madness to one side. Such an attack was the option of last resort and would most likely fail. Karim knew as much as she did about unarmed killing and was prepared for any attack. The signs were written all over him.
And then there was Rik, an unknown quantity if ever there was one. He was loyal to Asea and he had killed her father, as dangerous a Terrarch as ever lived.
The realisation struck her that all her reservations masked a much deeper truth, one that explained her instinctive reaction. She was afraid of Asea, and she had not encountered many things that frightened her in this life. Of all the people in this world, Asea must know what she was capable of, and yet she stood in front of her unafraid. If Tamara had not loathed her, she would have admired her, and she was self aware enough to know that was just one more component of her fear.
Whatever she might claim Asea did not fear her, even knowing things about her that would have terrified other Terrarchs. Well, Tamara had faced overconfident foes in the past. As with Rik, people tended to underestimate her. Unlike with Rik, that was usually because she willed it.
“You will soon have another visitor, a Terrarch named Joran,” said Asea.
“The High Inquisitor?”
“In person.”
“What does he want?”
“To question you.”
“What shall I tell him?”
“The truth insofar as it does not compromise you. Tell him what you know.”
“That I attempted to assassinate Xephan-- he might wonder how I escaped.”
“You do not need to tell him you made the attempt in person.”
“Then how will I convince him about the possession.”
“You have heard rumours, talked with people who have seen strange things. Dark sorcery is taking place in Askander. Tell him that.”
“He will suspect me of lying.”
“Of course he will. He is an Inquisitor. But better that he suspects you of untruths about your sources than of being what you are.”
“He might decide to put me to the question.”
“You are my guest. That means you are under my protection.”
“And you are under Lord Azaar’s protection.”
“Your grasp of the situation is admirably quick.”
Tamara considered what she would have to say. It would be easiest to appear somewhat stupider than she was, and more vicious and ambitious. She had encountered plenty of Terrarch women who were and had perfected blending in among them. On the other hand, she had flown away on a dragon which bespoke a certain amount of daring.
Of course, she was distant kin to the Empress. She could claim that Arachne was corrupt and she intended to replace her. That would excuse her taking on the royal privileges at least in the eyes of a monumentally ambitious Terrarch. That would make her seem sufficiently self-justifying. Tamara wondered whether the idea had been lounging around at the back of her mind waiting for an opportunity to present itself. That was fine though, playing a role was always more convincing when there was something of yourself in it.
“What if he asks me about these chains?" She could not resist aiming that small barb.
Asea’s smile was alarming. “Tell him the truth. That I do not trust you and I suspect you of being a sorceress.”
“Isn’t that against the law to bind a fellow Terrarch without Royal permission?”
“So is riding a dragon if you are not the Empress. But we are at war. A lot can be forgiven under those circumstances.”
“This might come back to haunt you in the future,” said Tamara. It was the only small consolation she could find in the situation.
“It won’t be the first time,” said Asea, “and I doubt that it will be the last. Come now, let us meet the Inquisitor. He is very keen to meet you.”
“Lady Tamara,” said Inquisitor Joran. “I trust you are well?”
Joran did not fit Tamara’s preconceptions of what a High Inquisitor should be like. He was affable, relaxed and charming. He wore no ceremonial robes or military uniform. He could have been any high noble who had attac
hed himself to the army as spectator.
“As well as can be expected under the circumstances.”
Joran studied their surroundings and wrinkled his nose fastidiously. “I suspect you are used to better accommodations than this.”
“Moderately.”
“They are actually rather good compared to some of the places I have seen. Many troops are billeted in roofless houses. No one is exactly comfortable.”
“I think I might enjoy sleeping under the stars.”
“Given the fact that our two nations are at war, a certain lack of hospitality is, sadly, only to be expected.” His manner made it clear that there was no personal animus because of the war. Like most Terrarchs of the old families, he was capable of separating the two. An accomplished deceiver herself, Tamara appreciated the skill with which he carried the pose. She smiled warmly back, a young Terrarch woman fooled by his courtly ease and slightly upset by her treatment, complaining to a sympathetic listener.
“Is that what you would call it?”
“I am sure if Lady Asea were to fall into Sardean hands, her welcome would be no warmer.”
“You are correct.”
“Thank you. Regrettably there are questions I must ask you as well.”
“I suspected that there might be.”
“You have come from the East and you are a schismatic.”
“I have known priests in the East who would say the same of you.”
“And you would agree with them, of course?” There was no threat in his tone. He was merely a kindly priest leading an errant pupil along so that he could correct her errors later. Or so his manner implied.
“I have never taken any position on the matter. I always suspected the breaking of the church was more of a political matter than a spiritual one.”
Joran smiled warmly. Tamara felt the need to be on guard. “Though as a voice of the faith I should not, I agree with you on that.”
“If you will forgive me for saying so, you seem very mild-mannered for an Inquisitor.”
“A certain honesty is needed for my duties. You and I are not humans, Lady Tamara. We do not need such strict spiritual guidance as they do.” The smile vanished as quickly as it came. “Why did you come here?”
