by Spurrier, Jo
The news was still spreading through the camp. Sierra could see groups of men huddled together, anxious and gesticulating. Shouts rose up around them as she followed Ardamon through the aisles. They were moving too quickly to hear any more than a few words, but Sierra caught a few sour looks turned her way and heard curses spat in her wake. Mira was popular and well respected and Sierra was a sorcerer, a herald of misfortune. Of course it was her fault this disaster had come to pass.
Dremman was standing outside his tent with fists jammed against his belt and his face red with fury as he barked orders. Mira’s tent still stood in its usual place but her banner no longer flapped at the front and two men stood guard at the entrance, which had been laced shut from the outside.
Someone at the edge of the crowd spotted Ardamon and shouted his name. The cry ran ahead of them, and by the time he drew his horse to a halt in a shower of loose snow the crowd around Dremman had parted to let them approach.
‘Where in the Black Sun’s name have you been, boy?’ Dremman snapped as his eyes raked over Ardamon and his trembling, weary horse. ‘Your cousin —’ Then his gaze fell on Sierra and his voice faltered.
She met his eyes and held the contact for a moment before turning away to dismount. A soldier came to lead the beast away but she made him wait for her to take the saddlebags off and sling them over her shoulder.
‘Your cousin,’ Dremman said to Ardamon, ‘my dear niece, has been taken prisoner by the Slavers.’
‘So I’ve been told,’ Ardamon said. ‘How could this happen, Father? Why was she put in such danger?’
‘A messenger arrived from Ruhavera early this morning. One of Lady Mira’s cousins was taken ill and Mira insisted she return at once to Ruhavera to care for her. I sent her with an escort of fifty men. Our scouts were certain the route was clear.’
Ardamon was turning white with anger, his lips bloodless as he clamped them down over his teeth. ‘And what is to be done about it?’ he said through clenched teeth.
‘I’ve sent a detachment of three hundred riders to recover her under the command of Captain Hannomar. If you had been here, my boy, I would have sent them under you. You had better have a cursed good explanation for disappearing like this.’
‘I do, Father. Perhaps in private …’
Dremman glowered at him. ‘In my tent, boy. You there,’ he said, pointing to a nearby soldier. ‘Escort Miss Sierra to her quarters and see she is not disturbed.’
The soldier bowed and Sierra let him usher her away from Dremman towards the familiar tent. She held a shield beneath her coat just in case.
The guards at the entrance bowed to her impassively before untying the cords that bound it. If they knew the circumstances in which she’d been spirited away during the night they showed no sign of it.
When she appeared in the opening Cam was sitting on his furs with a blanket around his shoulders and a bowl of tea in his hands. Rhia was tending the stove. At the sight of her they both stood.
When the flap fell closed behind her she heard the rustle of toggles and ties as they fastened it again. She refused to let the thought of being closed in bother her. After all, they could leave any time they liked. If only they had somewhere to go.
‘Sirri —’ Cam said and crossed the tent in a few strides to enfold her in his arms.
‘By the Bright Sun, Cam,’ she said, returning the embrace for a moment before taking his face between her hands to get a proper look at him. His skin was pale, his eyes bloodshot. ‘Ardamon said you were sick?’
‘I’m fine,’ he said, gruffly. ‘What about you? What happened out there?’ He took hold of her hands and she flinched when his grip pressed against the fresh burns. ‘You’re hurt,’ he said and Rhia looked up sharply in the gloom. ‘Tell me.’
‘In a moment,’ she said, setting the saddlebags down and shrugging off her coat. Cam took it from her to hang it up and she could tell from the way he looked it over that he realised it wasn’t the one she usually wore. ‘Have you heard the news about Mira?’
He paused with the coat still in his hands. ‘What news?’
Ardamon returned just as Rhia was tying off the fresh bandages around Sierra’s wrists. Cam was pacing back and forth across the cramped confines of the tent while on the stove a small pot of stew bubbled. Cam and Rhia had cooked it in anticipation of Sierra’s return so they would have a meal they could be certain was unadulterated. None of them had much appetite now but if they left it unattended they would have to discard it and start over again.
Ardamon lifted the flap and hesitated for a moment while cold air and drifting snow swirled in around his shoulders. ‘My father is here to speak to you,’ he said at last and came inside while another soldier held the flap up for Dremman.
Sierra searched the war-leader’s face for any hint of shame or guilt. Not for what he had tried to do to her, she expected no regret for that, but for what his actions had done to Mira. The cold gaze he turned on Sierra seemed to indicate he blamed her for what had come to pass.
‘Miss Sierra,’ he said. ‘You have my apologies for this unfortunate incident. It seems agents of the king who had been planted among my men were responsible for your abduction. I am most relieved their plot came to nothing.’
‘You are?’ Sierra said. ‘Perhaps you can tell me, War-Leader, did this occur before or after Mira decided to return to Ruhavera?’
‘After, of course,’ Dremman said. ‘If you were not here when Mira left your absence would have been noticed and the alarm raised. My men think it most likely that some of these fellows crept in here once Mirasada had departed and drugged you while you slept. Unfortunately we cannot be sure we have discovered all the king’s spies. It would be best for you to remain here in Mirasada’s tent. I will leave the guards in place, for your safety, of course. It would be best not to make much fuss over this little incident. There are those among my men who distrust your kind and if rumours were to spread that you made an attempt to desert and return to your former master, the mood of my men could turn dangerous very quickly.’
‘Oh, I understand perfectly, War-Leader,’ Sierra said. ‘But you may rest assured, if I detect any other threat towards me or my friends I will make every effort to keep the culprits alive so they can face the clan’s justice.’
‘Quite so,’ Dremman said, with a smile that had every appearance of warmth. ‘Well then, Miss Sierra, I will leave you to rest and recover from your ordeal. If you need anything don’t hesitate to ask one of your guards. They will supply you with anything you require.’
Once he left Sierra went over to the entrance to listen as the guards took up their positions again. No doubt Dremman had ordered them to report on any conversations they could hear. The rest of the tent was tightly sewn from reindeer hides with water and windproof seams. The doorway was the one weak point where they might be able to overhear what was said. It was too bad Mira was gone. The strumming of her setar would have made their conversation unintelligible but perhaps a crackling fire and the hiss of a simmering kettle would be enough, so long as they kept their voices down.
‘How much did you tell your father?’ she said quietly to Ardamon, who had seated himself in Mira’s chair with his chin resting on his fist.
‘Only that Cam convinced me you would wake early. He accepted I made the right choice.’
‘Didn’t he want to know why you didn’t come and tell him that before riding off?’ Cam said.
‘It would have taken too long. I only just reached her in time as it was.’
‘And does he know I know the truth of what happened?’ Sierra asked him.
‘Probably. I only told him you were suspicious. He wouldn’t have believed anything less.’
‘And what about Rasten?’ Cam said.
‘I told him nothing of that. If he knew he would be making plans to have you killed without delay.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Sierra said with a toss of her head. ‘The only thing worse than a sorcerer is a sorcerer you know curse
d well you can’t control. What’s his next move?’
‘How in the hells should I know? Look, you arrogant little chit! I’ve spent this entire day running around like a servant for your sake! And if it wasn’t bad enough that my cousin was hauled away like a cow to the market, the only reason my father seems to care is because of the trouble it’s going to make when we postpone the betrothal. Am I the only one who cares one jot what’s going to happen to Mira?’
‘You’re not,’ Cam said. ‘But there’s nothing we can do about that right now.’
Ardamon hurled his tea-bowl against the stove, where it shattered in a clatter of pottery shards. ‘How dare you?’
‘It was true when we learned Isidro had been taken and it’s true now,’ Cam said. ‘We’ll get her back. We will. But for the moment we have a more pressing concern.’
Ardamon clenched his fists with a snarl.
‘We need a plan now,’ Cam said, ignoring his anger. ‘And we need to know if we can trust you.’
Ardamon clenched his hands around the arms of the chair and rolled his head back with a sound halfway between a roar and a moan. ‘Black Sun take you, you son of a bitch! Do you think I would do that to Mira? This … this sorcerer of yours.’ He pointed one long finger at Sierra. ‘She may be as flighty as a yearling filly but she’s the best chance we have of taking Mira back. Just what kind of man do you think I am that I would abandon her like that?’
‘I think you’re a man who is loyal to his kin and his clan,’ Cam said. ‘Dremman isn’t going to sit back and pick at his teeth because his plan failed. No doubt he’s already concocting another way to get rid of Sirri. If you’re serious about helping us you’re going to have to lie to his face. If you can’t do that then you had better leave now.’
‘I’ll keep your secrets,’ Ardamon said through clenched teeth. ‘I’d swear it on the honour of my clan but I doubt that you would accept that oath.’
‘No,’ Sierra said. ‘Swear it on your cousin’s life. That, I will accept.’
‘On Mira’s life, I swear,’ Ardamon said and then buried his face in his hands.
While they spoke Rhia had been mixing a blend of herbs in a bowl. She poured water onto them and carried it around the stove to press it into Ardamon’s hands. ‘You are distraught,’ she told him gently. ‘Drink this. It will help clear your mind.’
Ardamon roused himself with a shudder and glared at Rhia as though he wanted to throw the bowl in her face, but he calmed himself with a deep breath and took it from her with a bow of his head.
‘Alright,’ Cam said. ‘I’ve had all day to think this over and I think we can keep you safe, Sirri. We will cook for ourselves and Rhia and I can be food-tasters for you. With the four of us we can keep a watch through the night without going too short on sleep —’
‘No,’ Sierra said, shaking her head. ‘It’s not going to work.’
‘Sirri, we can do it. It won’t be easy —’
‘No, we can’t. Dremman will work out what we’re doing, then what do you think he’ll do next? The whole point of food-tasters is that they’re expendable and have less value to the one they’re protecting than they do to his enemies. He’ll poison you both. It would be a death sentence.’
Cam sighed and bowed his head in defeat. ‘What do you suggest, then?’
‘I don’t know,’ Sierra said, raking her hands through her tangled hair. ‘Striking out on our own isn’t feasible. We tried that and we failed.’
‘Agreed,’ Cam said. ‘What other options are there?’
Sierra sat down on the spruce floor. She felt grimy and filthy and she wanted a bath, a hot meal, and hours of dreamless sleep in her furs. ‘What if … what if I reached an agreement with Rasten?’
‘That’s out of the question!’ Cam snapped.
‘Wait — just hear me out. We need to get Isidro and Mira back. That’s our first priority, isn’t it?’
Cam hooked his thumbs into his belt and scowled. ‘Yes, but it won’t change anything with Dremman and Kell. Our situation here will be the same.’
‘I realise that,’ Sierra said. ‘I doubt there’s anything that will change Dremman’s view of me. I’m a threat to his clan’s power, as the other mages were. He has to be rid of me. But if I do what Rasten wants and join him to destroy Kell … Well, that would change things. It would change everything.’
‘Forgive me for not understanding this brilliant plan,’ Ardamon drawled. ‘Which, if I’m not mistaken, is the very same thing those men died this morning to prevent. But how in the Black Sun’s name is turning you over to Rasten supposed to help Mira?’
‘I could make a deal with him,’ Sierra said. ‘I could surrender in return for troops to wipe out the Slavers and Rasten’s help against the Akharian mages. When Isidro and Mira are free I would turn myself in.’ She was trying to maintain the appearance of calm but on the final words her voice cracked and betrayed her.
‘Sirri,’ Cam said. She could feel his eyes upon her. ‘You told me you’d rather die than go back. You said you surrendered once and it was the worst decision you ever made.’
Tears were stinging her eyes. She tried her best not to let them spill. ‘It was the wrong decision then. But I can’t sit back and watch the people I care about die. Not again.’
‘No,’ Rhia said, breaking into the discussion for the first time. ‘Do not do this, Sierra. You would be choosing a life of slavery and I know what happens to a woman who is made a slave. There must be another way.’
‘But I don’t know what else to do!’ Sierra wailed. ‘I can’t stay here and I can’t go! What other choice is left to me?’
The very moment when the words left her mouth a possibility came to her. She felt herself go very still.
There was one other place she could go. A place where she would be beyond the reach of both Rasten and Dremman. A place where even Kell couldn’t touch her.
She sensed rather than saw Cam looming over her. She was still frozen to the spot when he asked, ‘What is it?’
‘The Slavers,’ she whispered. ‘The Akharians and their mages …’
‘What of them?’ he said, puzzled, and then went still, just as she had. ‘The books. Vasant’s books! Isidro’s already found some of them. They would teach you what you need to know. You wouldn’t need Rasten to guide you. You could go after Kell on your own terms.’
Sierra had no faith in her ability to learn from books alone. Studying Kell’s book had taught her nothing. It was only once she had begun her lessons with Rasten that her abilities had grown. Isidro had suspected that the book was deliberately written to be confusing so an apprentice couldn’t learn without his master’s direction. Surely Vasant’s books would be different. They were meant to pass the knowledge down, not hoard it like a miser.
‘What are you talking about?’ Ardamon demanded.
‘I could let myself be captured by the Akharians,’ Sierra said. ‘Neither Rasten nor Dremman could reach me in the Slavers’ camp. If I can wipe out their mages it will go a long way towards evening the odds against your father’s men.’
‘But isn’t there a small matter you’re forgetting?’ Ardamon said. ‘The Akharians check their slaves for mage-talent. What makes you think you can get past their sentries?’
‘And what about your power?’ Rhia said. ‘The life of a slave is a difficult one. There will be people suffering all around you. You already have trouble keeping your power in check and I promise you it will be much, much worse in there. And that is not all you must consider. You are young and beautiful. You will be raped, probably many times. I know this. I was a slave myself.’
Sierra nodded. ‘It’s a possibility I know, but —’
‘A possibility? You’re not taking this seriously —’ Cam shouted.
‘Of course I am!’ Sierra said. ‘But it’s not exactly a new threat, is it? I lived with it for two years in Kell’s dungeons. Every day I thought this would be the day Kell would let Rasten have me. And then there were the
rituals …’ She could feel the spruce beneath her but for a moment all she could see was the grey stone and the flickering shadows and all she could hear were sobs of pain, mingled with the tormentors’ breathy grunts of sadistic pleasure.
Cam’s voice startled her out of it. ‘You said they never touched you —’
‘Not me, not my flesh and blood, but everyone else who came into Kell’s dungeons was given the treatment. I felt the echo, until the power rose to drown it out …’ When it did, she retreated into it willingly, grateful for the refuge.
‘Everyone?’ Ardamon scoffed. ‘Every woman, you mean.’
‘No,’ Sierra said. ‘Everyone. Rasten wants only women but Kell prefers men and Rasten does as he says. Kell likes pain and humiliation, whatever the flavour.’
‘You mean … Isidro —’ Ardamon fell abruptly silent when Cam turned on him a glare so hard and vicious it turned Sierra cold.
‘As I said,’ she broke the silence, ‘it’s a possibility. But if I went back to Kell it would be a certainty. Among the Slavers I’ll at least have a chance to defend myself.’
‘Without giving yourself away?’ Cam’s voice was calm but Sierra could see the tightness around his eyes that showed he was holding himself under rigid control. ‘How?’
‘I’m not sure,’ Sierra said. ‘I … I’ll need to talk to Rasten. If there’s a way, he’ll help me find it. He’d rather keep me for himself.’
Cam frowned at her. ‘Are you sure about this?’
‘I don’t see any other choice.’
He sighed and bowed his head. ‘Alright, then,’ he said. ‘Rhia, make a list. If we’re seriously going to consider this, there are a number of things we need to decide.’
Chapter 32
The new book still stank of the glue used in the bindings, but to Delphine it was almost a comfort, the scent of home. Fontaine wrinkled her nose, but Alameda didn’t seem to care as she bent close to peer at the diagrams and the odd, unfamiliar script, while Harwin leafed through the pages. The scribes had been working day and night to copy the text from the steaming surface of the water and this was the first fruit of that harvest.
