Caraway couldn’t see the dead man’s face, but no doubt he was just as young as his killer. And that was a tragedy, whichever way you cut it.
He picked up the spent pistol and slipped it into his pocket. Perhaps he should try to persuade Larson to go easy on the lad. It had been a mistake. Just the stupid act of a young fool drunk on bravado and a sense of his own invincibility …
But someone had died. That had to be paid for.
‘You took two lives today,’ he told the trembling boy. ‘His and your own. I hope you remember that.’
Then he nodded at the guards, thanked Larson, and slipped back out into the fresh air of the street. He’d suggest to Ayla that a sentence of permanent incarceration would be more appropriate than execution in this case. Everyone deserved a second chance. Maybe over time, the boy could earn the right to commute his sentence to banishment and make a new life for himself elsewhere.
When Caraway got back to Darkhaven, he went straight to the armoury and unlocked the safe with the keys from around his neck. It had always been a general store for rare or dangerous weapons; these days, the vast majority of it was taken up by firearms and everything that went with them. Caraway pulled out the slotted tray from the central shelf and added the newest pistol to the collection. After that he stood there, just looking at the weapons. Twenty of them. Twenty, where three years ago there had been one. Somewhere among them was the pistol that had killed Lord Myrren. Another had killed a man today. Any one of them could kill Ayla.
Twenty. In another three years, would there be hundreds?
‘Are you all right?’ Ayla said softly behind him. What was she doing in the armoury? Spreading his hands in a futile attempt to hide the open safe and the tray of weapons, he turned.
‘I’m not sure you should be in here, love.’
‘What?’ she said, only half teasing. ‘Restricting me to Darkhaven isn’t enough for you? You want to restrict me within Darkhaven as –’
But then she got close enough to see around him to the pistols, and her face visibly drained of colour.
‘I’m sorry,’ Caraway said quickly, bundling the tray back into the safe and slamming the door shut. She shook her head.
‘It’s all right. I can’t hide from them forever. It’s just …’ She hesitated, then finished in a low voice, ‘They already took my brother. When I look at them, I can’t help wondering if this is where my family ends.’
Caraway reached for her hands. ‘It won’t be that way.’
‘I wish Myrren –’
‘I know.’
They stood in silence for a while. Then Caraway sighed, still thinking about the influx of firearms, and said, ‘The trouble is, I don’t think we can stop it.’
She looked up at him in alarm. ‘Then you think it’s going to be that hard? To catch the assassin?’
‘Oh – no, not that.’ He drew her closer and kissed the top of her head. ‘We’ll find him, no doubt of that. But the guns … I don’t think we can turn this tide, Ayla.’
‘Then don’t try,’ she said. ‘We have to live in the world we have. If we can’t stop firearms coming into Mirrorvale, the next best thing is learning how to use them.’
He nodded. ‘I’d a similar thought. If the Helm were fully trained in the use of pistols … if they understood their capabilities and limitations … but there’s danger in it. It would only take one rogue Helmsman to bring down the Nightshade line.’
‘As it stands,’ Ayla agreed. ‘But I’m placing my trust in alchemy. If Miles can find a way to enhance my strength against a bullet, the problem goes away.’
Caraway didn’t answer immediately. He shared Bryan’s reservations as to the efficacy of alchemy in achieving anything practical. He suspected that Ayla’s conviction was born largely of the need to feel as if she were doing something, rather than any concrete foundation. And besides …
‘You know,’ he said casually, ‘Miles knows how to use a pistol.’
Ayla pulled away from him, regarding him through narrowed eyes.
‘Oh, really?’ she said with dangerous sweetness. ‘I’ll have to ask him to show me.’
‘Ayla –’
‘Tomas.’
Rather than be dragged back down into the quicksand of their ongoing argument, Caraway decided not to press the point further. ‘You know I have to consider everything, love,’ he said gently. ‘It’s my job.’
‘I know.’ To his relief, she rested her cheek against his chest again. ‘But I like him, and Art cares deeply for him. That should be enough.’
‘Yes,’ Caraway said. ‘It should.’ And in an ideal world, it would be.
ELEVEN
It wasn’t until near the end of the first week of training that Ree found herself paired with Saydi during assessment. She had been doing her very best to avoid the other girl, partly because she didn’t want to give the boys any more fuel for their mocking remarks, and partly because she still felt guilty for what she’d said last time they’d talked. But today she’d stayed behind after her archery training session to ask the weaponmaster about the possibility of extra lessons, so she didn’t have time to reach the main yard early and find some boy who thought that sparring with a girl would give him an easy win. By the time she arrived, the recruits were already pairing up – and Saydi, standing near the gate, turned with a beaming smile at her entrance and said, ‘Ree! I’ve been waiting for you!’
Great. But Ree did her best to muster an answering smile, because she knew she wasn’t being fair. Clearly Saydi could have held a grudge against her, after their previous conversation; just as clearly, she hadn’t. Which probably meant she was a better person than Ree, and certainly meant that Ree ought to be nicer to her.
That resolution lasted right up until one of the nearby boys turned and saw them squaring up to each other. ‘You gonna give us a show?’ he called with a wink and an obscene gesture.
Saydi giggled. ‘Only if you give us one first.’
Elements. Ree fought the urge to slap them both, settling for a general scowl. The boy sneered at her.
‘Looks like Ree isn’t too keen on the idea. But then, I guess she wouldn’t know how.’
‘Just you and me, then, Timo.’ Saydi blew him a kiss. He laughed and turned away. Seething, Ree barely waited for him to start talking to his sparring partner before glaring at the other girl.
‘What are you doing?’
Saydi looked confused. ‘What?’
‘It’s like you don’t want them to take you seriously!’
‘I was just trying to help.’ Saydi bit her lip, looking hurt. ‘You’re obviously not comfortable with that sort of thing, Ree, so I thought – I mean, better to deflect it than make it into a big deal. Isn’t it?’
Ree didn’t answer: partly because it hadn’t even occurred to her that Saydi had been flirting for her benefit, and she didn’t know whether to feel guilty or disbelieving; and partly because here was another person trying to protect her. First Zander, now Saydi. Why couldn’t they all just accept that she could take care of herself?
‘Come on,’ she mumbled, picking up her practice sword. She might not have the ability to produce easy innuendo, but she could at least claim superiority in the things that mattered. ‘We’d better get on with it.’
When they started sparring, however, Ree finally understood why Saydi hadn’t been thrown out on the first day. Indeed, if she hadn’t been so determined to avoid the other girl, she probably would have seen it sooner. Because Saydi might not look like a warrior, and she might not know what anything was called, and she might have next to no training in the classical forms – but she was a reasonably decent swordsman. A little awkward, and lacking in polish, but she had potential. Even Ree could see that. And if Ree could see it, Captain Caraway and Weaponmaster Bryan certainly could.
Ree knew she should be relieved at that. She had worried that Saydi would reflect badly on her; now that she knew Saydi wasn’t so incompetent as to make a mockery of the very i
dea of a female Helmsman, she should have been able to relax. Yet instead, she found herself disappointed. She had been assuming that Saydi would leave after the week was over, she realised, but that was no longer anything close to a certainty. Which meant that Saydi might pass the seven-week test, go on to be accepted for Helm training, compete with Ree for a place in the Helm itself. And the two of them would continue to be defined as much by each other as they were by themselves.
‘Well?’ Saydi panted. ‘Do you still think I should join basic training?’
Ree said nothing.
‘I’d like to be your friend, Ree, if you’ll let me.’
Ree wrenched her sword aside. ‘I didn’t come here to make friends.’
‘No, of course, but –’ Saydi hopped awkwardly back as Ree went in for the attack. ‘Everyone needs friends, don’t they?’
She managed to parry Ree’s lunge, but her expression was hopeful. Unlike Ree, she obviously hadn’t had the chance to get used to the loneliness of swimming against the current of expectation. She didn’t want to be Ree’s friend, so much as she wanted Ree to be hers.
And despite the fact that she really had no interest in being Saydi’s friend, Ree didn’t quite have the heart to say no.
‘Fine,’ she said – and took Saydi’s momentary lapse of concentration as an opportunity to disarm her. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you.’
Saydi giggled. Again. ‘I’m counting on it.’
At the end of the first week of training, Bryan and Caraway got together to compare notes on the recruits. As always, they were able to identify a few youngsters who weren’t quite secure enough in the basics to make it worth putting them through the rest of the assessment. Those, they took aside and spoke to individually, before calling the rest of the group together.
‘Right,’ Bryan said when he had them in something approximating ranks. ‘We’ve called you here because you passed the first week of assessment.’
A murmur of relief went through the group, along with several sidelong glances at Saydi; some of the others had expected her to go, but Bryan and Caraway agreed that she’d proven to be a fast learner who deserved a chance. Nevertheless, there was surprise, and Bryan let them indulge in it for a short while before adding, sharply enough to silence them, ‘But if you thought this week was hard, the other six weeks are gonna kill you. Each of you has weaknesses that you need to work on, and if you don’t work on them to our satisfaction, you’ll be out. Got it?’
He paused, fixing each of them in turn with a hard stare while he gathered his wits. Then, with a sidelong glance at Caraway, he made the announcement they’d discussed earlier: the one that was intended to get them talking, and maybe letting something slip in the process.
‘In the meantime, all of you are required to undergo a search of your barracks before you start the next stage of training.’
That evoked another murmur, this time of confusion. It wasn’t standard procedure. From time to time the quartermaster might drop into the barracks unannounced, particularly if he’d heard rumour that one of the more exotic substances available in the lower rings had found its way up to the fifth. But it was rare that wider, more formal searches were carried out simply because the recruits were moving from one phase of training to the next. Bryan and Caraway had hoped that would mean they’d be bold enough to ask questions, and sure enough, Zander jumped in.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, sir, what exactly is going on? We’ve all heard they’re turning people away from Darkhaven, and now with this search –’
Caraway nodded. ‘We’ve received a threat against Lady Ayla’s life.’
‘An assassination?’ Farleigh’s eyes grew rounder. Bryan didn’t appreciate his prurience, and it seemed neither did Caraway; his voice was a shade cooler when he spoke again.
‘Yes, Farleigh. So I apologise to all of you for the inconvenience of the search, but I’m sure you understand the necessity.’
‘But, sir! Are you saying you think it could be one of us?’
‘I don’t think anything yet,’ Caraway said. ‘I’m simply covering all possibilities. That’s my job.’
The recruits were silent; Bryan thought several of them looked scared. Apparently Caraway agreed, because his expression softened.
‘There’s no need to worry. Remember, protecting the Nightshade line against this kind of thing is what the Helm is for. We’ve always had to live with the possibility of assassination. It’s nothing new; it just happens to be a more specific threat than usual.’
‘Damn Kardise,’ Bryan growled, then wondered if he should have said it. When he and Caraway had discussed having this conversation, they hadn’t mentioned revealing the source of the threat. He knew and therefore Miles knew, Caraway and Ayla knew, but did anyone else?
‘So it’s a Kardise threat?’ Farleigh piped up again. He was giving Zander the side-eye, Bryan noticed. In fact, a few of the recruits were.
‘Oh, sure,’ Zander drawled. ‘They’re really going to send someone who looks as obviously Kardise as me.’ But Bryan thought he seemed rattled, all the same.
‘Stop that, all of you,’ Caraway said, sharper than before. ‘The Helm work as a team. If you let suspicion come between you, this assassin will have achieved a different kind of destruction. Be vigilant, yes. We can’t afford to take any chances with Lady Ayla’s life. But at the moment, all we have to go on is a rumour. And a rumour isn’t enough to convict anybody.’
They waited, but no-one said another word; after a while, Bryan nodded. ‘All right. You’re dismissed. I’ll speak to you once I have the quartermaster’s report, Captain Caraway.’
Back in his office, he let out a long breath. Flaming Luka, as Miles would say – and as Bryan wasn’t allowed to say. He could still remember vividly the first time he’d used the phrase, having picked it up from Miles in the same way that he’d picked up any number of colourful oaths from the mercenaries who came to train in the fifth ring. Miles had been genuinely offended, and asked him not to use those words again.
In Parovia we believe that using the name of our god as a swear word is blasphemy, he’d said very seriously. The priests would have you doing penance for it if they heard.
But you say it all the time when we’re at home, Bryan had objected, and Miles had flashed him a sudden smile.
That is because Luka the great Sun Lord is my god to blaspheme against.
Bryan still didn’t really understand the whole thing – but then, the very concept of a god was alien to most Mirrorvalese. They had Nightshades, and that gave them more than enough powerful and capricious beings to deal with. Of course, Arkannen had absorbed the idea of deity-based religion as it absorbed everything else that came to live within its walls; somewhere in the sixth ring, alongside all the older temples to the elements and the seasons and the other natural forces, there were newer shrines to the Parovian Sun Lord and Maiden of the Moon, the Ingalese god Shabet, and whatever it was the Kardise worshipped. But that was Arkannen. Outside the city, the average farmer would listen with polite incomprehension to any talk of gods – and, no doubt, be mighty amused at the suggestion that a creature that strong could be harmed by words.
Bryan had made that very same suggestion to Miles. Surely, if Luka is all-powerful, it won’t care if you talk about it.
He, Miles had replied – still smiling, but with that hint of implacability behind the words that very occasionally showed itself. And it is a matter of respect. You would address your overlord by her title, would you not?
Only if she could hear me, Bryan had muttered, and Miles had laughed.
That is the point. Luka hears everything.
Bryan had ended the conversation at that point, because he didn’t want to offend Miles. It wasn’t as if it made any difference to him what Miles believed, after all. But it was Bryan’s personal opinion that since the world as he saw it and the world as Miles saw it were identical, save for the addition or subtraction of an all-knowing invisible
creature, his version achieved the same result with far less stretching of the imagination. Why believe in a sun god when the sun itself was there to be worshipped?
Of course, Miles always told him he didn’t have an imagination, so maybe that had something to do with it.
Still, he was going to have to use the imagination he didn’t have, now, because that’s what he’d agreed with Caraway. They’d talk to the trainees, give them a little more information about the threat, then consider their reactions alongside everything else they knew about them. Bryan wasn’t sure he’d have anything to tell Caraway that Caraway hadn’t already noticed for himself, but the principle was sound: two sets of impressions were better than one. So he sat back in his chair and began to run through his latest roster of students in his head.
First Zander. The others had looked askance at him, and it was easy to see why. He had what you might call Kardise colouring: curly brown hair, skin several shades darker than the average Mirrorvalese. But that was hardly an indication of anything, these days. Despite the ongoing unsettlement between Mirrorvale and Sol Kardis, people had been crossing and recrossing the border for decades. Come to think of it, Caraway himself could pass for Kardise at a glance, and Bryan was hardly going to add him to the list of suspects. The point was, you couldn’t tell where someone came from by what they looked like, not any more … except a Nightshade, of course. They were still pretty damn distinctive.
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