…A naked woman wearing nothing, but a strange necklace spoke to her, whispering words of great power that she couldn’t quite hear. She was safe, and yet somehow she was in terrible danger. A bubbling pool of warm water was calling to her, demanding her attention…
…A man she vaguely recognised was standing on a stone altar, lifting his hand to cast an incantation that would somehow change the world. She lunged forward, trying to stop him, but her legs refused to move and she crashed to the floor…
…She saw a castle burning, a series of visions shifting so rapidly that she couldn’t tell if it was one castle or many castles. Great beasts hung in the air, taunting her as they poured fire down onto their targets. Flames leapt from house to house while the population below panicked, but there was nowhere to run…
…She was falling from a great distance and she was so very tired. Everything seemed to blur…and then Eric caught her, holding her in his arms. She felt his warmth and relaxed into sleep…
…A golden ring sat on her finger; a golden crown sat on her head. She looked over to see Eric and saw him looking back at her. He wore a matching outfit…
…Very tired, she looked down at the baby in her arms. It was her child, yet somehow she knew that something was very wrong. It wasn't her child…
Hind broke free, the force of her shock throwing her backwards onto the carpeted floor. She was sweating all over, as if she’d been panicking or worse. It was all she could do to keep herself together. Her head felt as if it was threatening to explode, with images of visions she hadn’t seen – and yet had seen – pounding through her skull. Kuralla held out a hand and placed it on Hind’s shoulder, but she flinched away, unwilling to risk seeing more visions. The last one had shocked her more than words could express.
“You knew,” Hind accused, as she pulled herself to her feet. It wasn't hard to become annoyed with the Oracle, not now that she knew that the Oracle was a young girl. “You knew what I would see.”
“I knew some of it,” Kuralla admitted. She looked suitably repentant for a second, and then brightened up. “I don’t just see visions involving you. I see visions involving everyone. All of history seems to be focused around you.”
“So you said,” Hind said, impatiently. “How many of those visions are going to come true?”
Kuralla shook her head. “I have no way of knowing,” she said. “The Sages tell me that I will learn more with practice, but I don’t think that I will ever grow more precise.”
Hind nodded. Kuralla was doomed to remain in her gilded cage for the rest of her life, now that the Sages had tested her and certified her as a real Oracle. Divination was normally the territory of hedge witches – their successes were the work of random chance, rather than anything else – and there were legions of frauds in the game. It was an easy way to make money, at least for a short period of time, but a real Oracle couldn’t be allowed to live like that. Kuralla would remain under their control to help keep the balance of power.
“I see visions that don’t seem to mean anything,” Kurilla continued. “Some just seem to be visions of the distant past, or perhaps possible futures.” Her tone softened slightly. “It’s quite possible that everything you saw today will never come true.”
“Thank you,” Hind said. She didn’t envy anyone who developed Oracle powers. The gift of glimpses of the future brought with it the curse of knowing that not everything an Oracle foresaw could be prevented. Her tutors had used to debate the many issues behind Oracles; if they saw visions of the future, were they gazing into one single future or many possible futures, in many possible worlds. Some of them had even gone so far as to speculate that every vision did come true – in one possible world. Hind privately considered that to be rank speculation. There was only one world and no way to undo the past.
She changed the subject hastily. “How did you end up here?”
Kurilla smiled. “I started having visions back when I had my first blood,” she said, with a blush. “I thought I was going mad! Eventually, the Sages arrived, tested me and took me with them to the Golden City. And here I remain.” She smiled again. Hind guessed that there was more to the story than Kurilla was willing to admit. “Uncle Hinkarilin and Uncle Laraneth take good care of me, but I get bored. Please tell me about some of your adventures…”
Hind smiled back and started to tell Kurilla about a handful of her smaller adventures. A couple of them Kurilla already knew about, although she’d only heard tales from some of her visitors. It was customary to pay an Oracle in stories and Kurilla, it seemed, had taken full advantage of the tradition. She probably knew more of what was going on than anyone else, even the Emperor himself. Between what she was told and her visions, she would have a complete picture of what was going to happen.
“There is a great deal of trouble brewing over the patents of nobility,” Kurilla said suddenly. “You may have to watch your back.”
Hind questioned her for a few minutes, but Kurilla knew little else. It was easy to sense her frustration at how her powers only provided limited glimpses into reality, rather than a clear and concise look into the future. Eventually, the Sage entered and gently reminded the Oracle that it was almost Noon and the first line of supplicants was already forming outside the temple.
“I will come back soon,” Hind promised, at Kurilla’s half-pleading look. The Oracle wouldn’t get many visitors who didn’t want something from her. “You’ll see me again soon enough.”
Kurilla gave her an odd look, as if she knew something Hind didn’t, and said nothing.
Outside, the air was ringing with preachers calling the faithful to pray. Hind smiled at the lines of tourists making their way towards the temples…and then stopped. Just for a second, she’d caught sight of a man wearing the robes of a pilgrim. There was nothing special in that, but she’d recognised him from her days at the Academy. Master Reginald had been one of the most obnoxious students the Academy had ever had. He would have been expelled if his father had been a commoner.
Now, that’s odd, Hind thought, as she turned to walk in the other direction. Perhaps she’d been mistaken, but a good memory was a requirement for a magician and she was sure that she hadn’t been mistaken at all. The face was older, sharper, but no less recognisable. Why would Reginald be here?
Chapter Six
Duke Herod, as befitted the Lord of Azimuth, had inherited one of the largest mansions in the Golden City. The First Emperor had ordered that all of his subordinate nobles build themselves mansions within his new city and they had competed to build the largest and most luxurious apartments for themselves, showing off their wealth and power to their peers. It had taken them several years to realise that the First Emperor – who was no fool – had intended to distract them from making any bids for his power by pushing them into a pointless competition. Herod had to admire the man’s political skill, even as he despised his legacy.
He stood up and greeted the four men who entered his private chambers, noting that they had passed through his wards without sounding any alarms. The Emperor would have his spy rings seeded throughout the city – everyone who was anyone would have tried to plant spies and agents everywhere they could – but he was fairly confident in his own defences. The mansion was secured by some of the most powerful wards money could buy, protecting him against both unwanted intruders and spying spells that would have revealed his plans. The sorcerers who had secured his mansion had sworn that the wards might not be completely impregnable – no ward was completely impregnable, even if an attacker had to batter it down with sheer force – but they would definitely warn him if someone was on the verge of breaking in. His servants were all under the strictest of loyalty spells, ones they had accepted willingly for the honour of serving the Lord of Azimuth. His security was as tight as he could make it.
There was no way to disguise the comings and goings of some of the men of noble blood – and even, although it pained him to see them, the richer trader families – but even th
at would pass unnoticed. The Lords were expected to visit each other and play host to countless parties – another way to keep them from considering schemes to upset the balance of power – and no one would have been surprised to see every Lord in the city passing through his gates. Herod had no love for parties and disliked even the concept of the Midsummer Faire, but they served a useful purpose. Even the Grand Dames, who seemed to believe that he would cheerfully accept one of their daughters in marriage, could be used for his own purposes. It only required a little imagination.
“It’s good to see that you all made it here successfully,” he said, as they took their seats. Powerful wards shimmered into existence, adding a further layer of security to their meeting. It was probably overkill, but one thing Herod’s father had hammered into his head was that failure to take precautions, even extreme precautions, led to disaster. And, given what he’d done to get as far as he had, a fall in power would lead rapidly and inevitably to his execution. Even a Duke couldn’t hope to get away with what he’d done. He pushed the thought aside and turned to the first man.
“General,” he said. “I trust that all the troops are positioned safely?”
General Sayrald bowed his head. He wore the drab outfit of a low-ranking trader, but no one who saw him walking would mistake him for anything, but a soldier. General Sayrald had commanded Herod’s private guard for longer than anyone cared to remember and had shown himself to be completely trustworthy. Only the General, and Herod himself, knew why he was so devoted to the Lord of Azimuth, but it was a very real devotion.
“They are all in position,” the General said, his face twisting into a smile. The soldiers had prepared endlessly for their mission, but even the smallest of mishaps could have revealed their presence and then all hell would break loose, perhaps literally. “I do not believe that their presence is suspected.”
Herod smiled, humourlessly. The compacts that bound the Empire together forbade the Emperor to raise a large army of his own, apart from the private army in Larkrise, his own ancestral lands. The Royal Guard and the Knights of the Golden Order were all the fighting men the Emperor could call on in a hurry, although given time he would probably be able to convince others to flock to his banner. All of the other Lords, even the Crown Prince himself, were forbidden to bring any of their soldiers – apart from a tiny honour guard – within fifty miles of the Golden City. Even asking permission to bring an army through the Golden City could be considered a declaration of war against the Emperor.
The solution had been simple enough. There were always tens of thousands of visitors – ranging from traders to pure tourists – thronging their way towards the Golden City before Midsummer’s Eve. Herod had slipped his men into the region in small groups, bunking them with friends or allies within the city, or positioning them out in the forest. No one knew it, but he had managed to conceal three thousand of his best soldiers within striking distance of the city, while another ten thousand waited on the border. It was the most sizable army in the region, all the more so because no one knew that it existed. Three thousand soldiers would be more than enough to seize the entire city – the City Guard was hardly a defence force worthy of the name – but they couldn’t take the Golden Palace. The defences around the Palace were formidable, formidable enough to stymie Herod’s father and prevent him from considering a strike against the Emperor. It had taken Herod and his experiments into dark and forbidden magic to understand how the defences worked…and how they could be taken down from the inside. He was quite proud of his solution, even though it would expose him to more than a little personal risk.
“That doesn’t mean that the Grandmaster doesn’t know,” Master Reginald pointed out. The Master Magician’s thin sallow face peered out from the black hood he wore. He had insisted on donning his robes as soon as he was inside the mansion, ignoring quiet suggestions that there was no need to dress for the meeting. For Reginald, the whole purpose of magician’s robes was to wear them, and show off his status to the world. “The interfering old bastard might have spied your preparations and warned the Emperor.”
“And then we would all be in jail now, or dead,” Herod pointed out. The Emperor wasn't so foolish as to allow a known enemy to bring an army in under his nose…if he had the slightest idea that that army existed. Allowing the army to continue to form might have risked losing anyway, after the battle began. “I believe that the Grandmaster is…unlikely to take a side in the coming unpleasantness.”
He smiled. It had been years since he had been at the Academy himself, but he’d known many of the Heads of Disciplines personally. A couple had even been willing to open discussions with him, although he’d kept his statements and promises vague. When he was Emperor, and could appoint his own Castellan, those who supported him openly would be rewarded. Several of them were lesser sons of noble blood, chafing against the restraints the Grandmaster placed on them. And the Grandmaster, for all of his power, was just a man. He could be beaten.
Reginald changed the subject with a muttered oath. “I saw Mistress Hind at the temples today,” he said, coldly. “I do not believe that she saw me. Is she really going to be the Royal Consort?”
Herod smiled at the disdain in Reginald’s tone. He hadn’t shared any classes with Hind – he shouldn’t have had, unless he’d been kept back a year – but unless he missed his guess, there was a very personal grudge deep within the young magician. Reginald was almost as capable and knowledgeable as he thought he was, yet he had no sense of subtlety or self-restraint. The only thing that kept him in line was fear of Herod’s anger and the promise of vast power opening up in front of them…if they kept their nerve. Striking early would be almost as disastrous as striking too late.
“So far, the Emperor has made no announcement,” he said, finally. “I believe that he will make a statement before the House of Lords tomorrow, or perhaps Mistress Hind will be pushed to one side and another commoner bitch will be brought in to take her place.”
“Of course she will take it,” Reginald burst out. “Why, the commoner bitches wouldn’t hesitate to take the chance to become Royal Consort, if it were offered.”
“Perhaps,” the General said. “Or perhaps she fears the loss of her independence.”
Reginald leered. “She’s in for a surprise then, isn’t she?”
Herod nodded. Once they had secured power – total power – they would move rapidly to eliminate all of the commoners in positions of power; traders, freemen…and magicians. Hind would either die on Midsummer’s Eve with the rest of the Royal Court, or die later when she and her fellow commoner magicians were hunted down and exterminated. And then they could reshape Touched itself to their heart’s content.
“It is unwise to count one’s chickens before they hatch,” Lord Galen said, calmly. “We must not allow our contempt for our enemies to blind us. The plan will only work if we take them completely by surprise.”
“Correct,” Herod said. He stood up and paced around the massive chamber. “Reginald, I expect you to assemble the sorcerers on the day before Midsummer’s Eve and get them into position. General, have the first body of troops move into their positions at the same time. Once the wards go down, we will have to move fast to secure the Golden Palace before the Royal Guard can put together a conventional defence and try to delay us. Lord Galen…I trust that you have been practicing with the spells I gave you?”
Lord Galen nodded, once. “Yes, Your Excellency,” he said, formally. He was a lesser Lord and would die a lesser Lord, unless he took the opportunity that Herod had dangled in front of his nose. Few would have had the determination and skill to play his role in the proceedings, but Lord Galen was a skilled hunter and warrior. He would play his part or die trying. “My people and I are ready to proceed with the plan.”
“Good,” Herod said. He glanced from face to face, his eyes coming to rest on Reginald. “And now, all we have to do is wait for our moment to strike. I expect that each of you will keep that in mind. If there
is a single leak, we’re all going to die.”
And he smiled, concealing his own thoughts. He had no doubts about the General, and Lord Galen knew the value of patience, but Reginald was a problem. The young mage was ambitious and headstrong. He’d even wanted to fight in the Trials until Herod had firmly nixed that idea. If someone had seen him and asked the wrong questions…after all, whatever Reginald had done to earn banishment from the Academy’s post-graduation programs, it had to have been something dreadful.
He shook his head, dismissing the thought. Once, the Lords of Azimuth had been wealthy and powerful beyond the dreams of avarice. And, when his plans reached the final stage, they would be wealthy, powerful and in sole control of Touched. The prize was definitely worth the risk.
***
Hind composed herself as best as she could when she returned to the Golden Palace. After leaving the Oracle, she’d visited the Faire and watched a handful of the bouts between different Master Magicians. None of them looked as if they were going to unseat the Grandmaster, but Hind knew from experience that sometimes the unqualified magicians could be the most dangerous. There was no rule forcing magicians to compete in the Trials and it wasn't unknown to discover a more powerful magician hidden away somewhere, refusing to show his power.
The Black Knife Page 6
