by James Erich
By now he was beginning to grow used to his attraction to Sael. Not that he understood it, really, but he saw little reason to fight against it. Except that Sael was a spoiled brat. Koreh lay there for a while, trying to pretend he and Sael actually liked each other. Then how wonderful would it be to wake up in Sael’s arms?
After a few minutes, the desire to try the spell won out over unattainable fantasies. But he was feeling enough goodwill toward Sael to wake him when he got up.
“Huh?” Sael groaned, his face puffy with sleep. Not exactly beautiful, but still, Koreh was irritated to realize, very cute.
“Get up,” Koreh ordered him, whispering to avoid waking Geilin. “I want you to come into the woods with me.”
“I don’t want to watch you relieve yourself, Koreh.”
Koreh couldn’t help smiling. “That’s not what I meant, little lord. Come. I want to show you something. Something,” he added, teasing, “that I haven’t already shown you.”
He stood up and was pleased that Sael followed, looking sullen, as he wrapped the cloak around himself to keep out the morning chill.
Koreh led the way into the woods a short distance from the campsite. Then he turned to Sael with a huge grin on his face.
“What?” Sael asked, irritated.
Suddenly, Koreh fell into the ground, feeling the familiar cool, airless darkness envelop him.
After a moment, he heard Sael’s voice, irritable, coming to him muffled by the earth around Koreh’s ears. “I’ve already seen that.”
But he hadn’t seen this. Koreh reached out with his mind, feeling for Sael’s presence in the darkness, sensing it in some way he couldn’t quite understand—not quite a touch, but almost. Then Koreh allowed himself to bob up out of the ground. He was directly in front of Sael when he did so, and the apprentice jumped back with a startled yelp.
“I can move around now!” Koreh announced triumphantly.
Sael stepped forward again and then reached out to brush a stray leaf from Koreh’s hair. As if suddenly realizing the intimacy of the gesture, he quickly looked away and tucked his hand back under his cloak. “Did you learn that in a dream last night?”
“Yes. Isn’t it great?”
Koreh’s enthusiasm was apparently enough to overcome Sael’s early morning grumpiness. He smiled shyly and responded, “Yes, it’s great.”
SAEL came to regret the compliment, since Koreh then insisted on showing him what it was like—several times. By the time Koreh let him return to the campfire and start preparing Master Geilin’s tea, Sael had been popped in and out of the ground a half dozen times. It was fun, in a way, but disorienting. Especially before breakfast. And he still hated that feeling of suffocation that came over him when he was surrounded by earth—buried, for all practical purposes, apart from the fact that it wasn’t necessary to breathe.
He noticed, too, that Koreh seemed extremely tired after this game. Apparently this magic took its toll on him. But he was still exuberant, so Sael didn’t worry about it.
After Penent and breakfast, the three travelers set out along the crumbling cobblestones of the Empire Road. It was a pleasant day and the forest here was lush and beautiful, in stark contrast to the forest on the other side of the chasm. The birds and small woodland creatures all behaved as normal birds and small woodland creatures should, and it was easy for Sael to forget the danger they were in. But Koreh and Geilin were eyeing the surrounding landscape with caution, and their constant vigilance kept him from letting his guard down too much.
They traveled all day without incident, stopping only briefly for Cabbon and a midday meal. Koreh was still in the habit of wandering away whenever Geilin and Sael performed their observances, and Geilin finally asked Sael if he knew the reason for this odd behavior. Sael could think of no explanation that would make sense without bringing the Taaweh into it, so he simply shrugged and feigned ignorance. He wasn’t used to keeping things from the old man, though, and it was starting to wear on him. Koreh had refused to use magic in the wizard’s presence, now that he was conscious, which meant the Taaweh magic was no longer benefiting Geilin as it had earlier. Sael was beginning to wonder if he’d made a poor bargain, after all. But then he reminded himself that Geilin was still alive, and might not be if Sael hadn’t accepted Koreh’s offer.
It wasn’t until nightfall that Geilin said, “We should be nearing Old Mat’zovya.”
Up ahead, a break in the trees looked out upon orange sky, rapidly turning to twilight in the east.
Koreh brought Sek to a halt. “Wait here. I’m going to look ahead.”
“Very well, but be cautious.”
Sael knew Koreh would have no trouble remaining hidden. The moment Koreh ducked into the woods, he immediately vanished, more quickly than seemed possible. Geilin raised an eyebrow and glanced at Sael, but said nothing.
It was only a few moments before Koreh reappeared, stepping out from behind a large tree trunk. “The road comes out of the forest just ahead and cuts through a field. The ruins are visible on the other side of the field.”
“Is there a way to get past without being seen?” Geilin asked.
“By the ömem?”
“I have no doubt that the ömem are already aware of our location,” Geilin replied grimly. “For the present, I’m concerned with being spotted by the outlaws in the old town.”
Koreh thought for a long moment. “The fields stretch for leagues to the north and south. There’s tall grass, but no real cover until we get to the woods on the other side.” Tall grass would, of course, not obscure a horse. “If we travel far enough in either direction before cutting across, and do so in the dark, we might not be seen.”
“Very well,” Geilin said. “Lead on.”
Koreh took Sek’s reins and led them to the south, through the dense woods. It was difficult going, especially for a man on horseback. But Geilin was still far too weak to walk any great distance. Sael hoped that, once they reached Mat’zovya, an ömem could be found who was friendly to his father, and who would be willing to sell them some strong healing draughts.
No ömem could ever be completely trusted. They were loyal only to themselves, and alliances with them were always tenuous. To refer to an ömem as “the emperor’s” or “the vek’s” was a gross oversimplification. They were loyal only insofar as it suited them. If Thuna had appeared loyal, it was merely because it had suited her to remain with the vek for decades.
It was hours before Koreh thought it safe to turn east again. By this time, it was well into the night. Koreh had no difficulty navigating the forest in darkness, but Sael was continuously tripping over roots and leaf-covered stones. Only his pride kept him from cursing aloud.
They left the shelter of the trees, entering a vast field of tall grass, swaying blue-gray in the night, hissing quietly in the breeze. Sael could see lights in the north—the lanterns and torches of the shantytown that had grown up in the ruins—and they seemed very far away.
Sael relaxed somewhat. In just a few hours, they’d be nearing Mat’zovya. And there they would at last be able to contact his father. The vek had allies in the town, and Sael and Geilin would at last be able to purchase supplies and hire mercenaries to escort them the rest of the way to Harleh.
It was also likely to mean the end of their acquaintance with Koreh. They would reward him—Geilin would see to that—but Sael would probably never see him again. And he was surprised to find that the thought saddened him.
His thoughts were interrupted by a scream.
It was less of a scream than a war cry. And it was instantly taken up by several other voices, seemingly coming from all sides.
Sael instinctively drew his sword, and he heard Koreh swear under his breath.
Then there was a sound like a sharp exhalation and a dull thud. Sek whinnied in pain, an arrow protruding from his side. As Sael spun about, trying to find where the arrow had come from, his eyes finding nothing but undulating grass, another arrow struck the poor hors
e. Then a third.
Sek toppled over, and Sael barely had time to grab Geilin and pull him away from the animal. They went down together, the old wizard flailing as he landed on top of him. Sael’s breath was knocked out of him as they both struck the ground, but at least neither had been crushed by Sek’s massive bulk.
A sob caught in Koreh’s throat, and he ran to the dying animal. But the attackers were now rushing at them, shadowy figures bounding through the grass, shrieking and brandishing swords.
“Koreh!” Sael shouted, struggling to extricate himself from Geilin’s robe.
Koreh looked up at him, his face contorted with rage and streaked with tears. Then he, too, cried out in pain, an arrow striking his torso.
“Koreh!”
The young peasant tumbled down into the grass. Sael could see nothing from his position as Koreh’s body fell down behind the bulk of the dead horse. Then Sael was aware of nothing but dark shapes descending upon him and several hands tugging at his arms and tunic.
He was relieved of his sword. Then he found himself pulled roughly to a standing position and a gag put into his mouth.
Someone lit a torch. By its light, Sael could see that he and Geilin were surrounded by about twenty men and women dressed in a haphazard array of colorful rags. All had black bands painted across their eyes.
Geilin stood beside Sael, looking angry but otherwise unharmed. Like Sael, he was also gagged. But Sael could see no trace of Koreh and he feared he might lay dying, hidden from view behind the horse. He took a step toward Sek but was shoved back into place.
“There were three of them!” a woman’s voice called out, sharp and commanding.
The rough circle parted to allow the woman to get closer. She was tall and shapely and perhaps she had been beautiful once. Her threadbare dress was richly embroidered, and her hair was still a flaming red. But it wasn’t age that had destroyed her beauty—it was her eyes. Where they had once been were now burned, hollow sockets.
“There are only two, milady,” a man said.
“No,” she replied curtly. “I saw three. One was struck by an arrow and fell.”
She walked past Sael and stepped over Sek’s extended legs, her feet sure despite her obvious blindness. “Here.”
Sael’s heart seemed to stop for a beat. Was she standing over Koreh’s corpse?
He felt a momentary wave of relief when she said, “He’s disappeared.”
“Are you certain there were three, milady?”
“Of course I’m certain.” The woman clearly didn’t like being questioned. “He’s gotten past you, somehow.”
She walked over to Geilin and appeared to examine him with those horrible, empty sockets. “I know you’re from the court of Vek Worlen. I know the boy is his son.”
Sael felt a shiver creep up his spine.
“Be grateful you’re not tied to the emperor, or I would have your eyes plucked out and let my people make a sport of killing you both. Fortunately, for you, I have no grievance with the vek. As long as he pays me, I’ll probably let you live.”
She turned and began to walk away, heading toward the shantytown. “Bring them along. And some of you search the area for their companion. He’s the same age as this one, but raven-haired.”
As he and Geilin had their hands trussed behind their backs and were roughly prodded forward, Sael wondered if Koreh had abandoned them. Yes, he was glad he’d escaped, and Sael hoped he hadn’t been seriously wounded. But what now? Would Koreh simply disappear back into the forest? Sael certainly couldn’t imagine Koreh charging to their rescue!
The thought was oddly comforting, because he found being irritated with Koreh more pleasant than worrying about him. It distracted him from worrying about what was going to happen to himself and Geilin.
Old Mat’zovya, he soon discovered, was filthy. The breeze carried the scent of human waste and rotten garbage to his nostrils long before they came to the town. And the first thing he caught sight of, when they entered one of the back alleys, was a drunken man urinating.
Sael and Geilin were led through twisting, narrow streets crowded with tents and makeshift wooden structures. In places, an ancient stone house had been patched and made livable, whereas some of the original buildings had crumbled to their foundations and people had built shacks against one wall, using the other three broken walls to mark out a small plot of land. Everywhere, clothing was strung across streets and alleys on rope and beggars called out for coins, only to be kicked out of the way by Sael’s captors.
The woman resided in a fairly large renovated stone structure, not far from the edge of town. It was, compared to the other hovels they’d passed, richly furnished, and stone steps led up to a second floor. The inside of the house was smoky, and a servant was preparing a meal at the large fireplace.
As soon as they entered, another servant rushed to take the blind woman’s arm, as she suddenly appeared less certain of her surroundings. This confirmed Sael’s suspicion. She was an ömem. Like Thuna had been. These women were gifted with the ability to see through the eyes of the gods—the Eye of Atnu during the day and the Eye of Druma at night—and they could see anything the Eyes cast light upon. This was obviously how their captor was able to move around without difficulty when she was outside. It also explained, in part, how she’d found them so easily, as they were crossing the open field when the Eye of Druma was half-open.
But for the same reason, the moment she stepped inside, she lost her sight. Sael noticed only a few members of her band followed her inside the house. Perhaps they were the only ones trusted to be near her when she was in this vulnerable state. She could, of course, have allowed the Eyes to peer in through open windows in order to see when she was inside. But that would only be effective at certain times of day or night, and the rest of the time open windows could endanger her.
The servant guided the woman to a cushioned wooden seat near the fire. The seat was carved with intricate patterns and faced the room like a throne, reminding Sael of the seats used by the emperor’s ömem. Had this woman once been part of the royal house? Her words earlier had implied she had a personal vendetta against the emperor. Had he been responsible for blinding her? The emperor had a reputation for being cruel to those who fell out of his favor.
“The vek’s ömem are aware of your capture,” she told them as she took her seat. “They will inform the vek that you are my prisoners and, when he responds, we will begin negotiations for your release. Assuming he finds you worth the ransom.”
This rankled Sael, and it was perhaps for the best that he was still gagged. The relationship between him and his father had always been strained, but he couldn’t imagine the man leaving him to rot in the hands of outlaws.
“Seat them,” the woman ordered the men in charge of the prisoners.
Sael and Geilin were pushed forward and made to sit on a low wooden bench in front of the crude throne.
The woman continued, “I would offer you food and drink, but I’m familiar with vönan. You will have to remain gagged, for the time being.”
She summoned one of the men to her side and they leaned close, talking in hushed tones Sael couldn’t overhear.
At that moment, Geilin disappeared.
One moment, he was seated to Sael’s left; then he was gone. The men noticed it before their leader did. “Milady! The mage has vanished!”
“What?”
The men scrambled about the room, as if Geilin might be found hiding under a table somewhere. Sael couldn’t believe it. Koreh had come back for them! It had to be him. How else could it have happened?
“He’s nowhere in the room!”
The woman jumped to her feet, furious. “That’s impossible! What are you talking about? Not even a vönan can disappear into thin air!”
Then a shocked expression swept over her face, replacing the anger. “Wait! I can see him now. He’s outside the town! Near the road to Mat’zovya. How is that possible?”
A hand suddenly shot u
p through the floor near Sael and gripped his ankle. He would have shrieked, if he’d been able to. Then he felt himself falling and everything went dark.
Chapter 11
KOREH had to drag Sael up out of the ground by his ankle, which clearly didn’t please him. As soon as Koreh released him, Sael tumbled to the ground, swearing. Or at least he was trying to, but the gag prevented anything coherent from coming out.
It wasn’t until Geilin helped him stand and removed the gag that Sael snapped at Koreh, “Were you trying to make me throw up, tossing me around like that?”
Koreh’s side, where the arrow had sliced through it was on fire. He pressed his hand against his bloody tunic, trying to dull the pain. “I’m fine. Thanks for your concern.”
That brought Sael up short. He seemed to notice the wound in Koreh’s side for the first time, and his eyes widened.
“Are you all right?”
“Next time, I’ll leave you to rot—”
“Enough!” Geilin said, his voice stern for the first time since Koreh had met him. He removed the bindings from Sael’s wrists. “We don’t have time for this.” Geilin glanced up at the Eye, its crescent shining brightly in the sky overhead. “That was Marik, one of the emperor’s favored ömem, until he had her blinded for betraying him. She still has the Sight and she knows where we are. I have no doubt that her people are on their way to recapture us.”
The wizard lifted Koreh’s hand away from his side so he could examine the wound. In the darkness, it was impossible to see anything but blood. “Is the wound deep?”
“I don’t know.”
Geilin sighed and looked Koreh directly in the eye. “We are still a couple leagues from Mat’zovya. Is there a limit to how far you can travel with this miraculous new power you’ve suddenly developed?”
Koreh could see a rebuke in the man’s eyes, but they both knew this wasn’t the time or place for a discussion. “I don’t know. Either way I can only take one of you at a time.”
