Could she trust him? He was no friend of Sibias, true. Then she remembered the man she had seen by his side, twice now. “There was another man, and he appeared in the tent earlier, when you followed me, he was close by observing when Xerxes quizzed you. Who is he?"
His head lifted, his forehead furrowing. “What did he look like?"
"An elderly man, with a raggedy beard. He appeared and disappeared quite suddenly, but I had seen him near you before, in the marketplace in Suzin."
"Santor.” He broke into a strange, bemused smile. “You can see him,” he stated, and gave a soft ironic chuckle. “Forgive me, Elishiba. He is a spirit guide and the fact you can see him surprises me."
Warily, she watched his expression changing, her arms folding protectively over her chest. His amusement over this did not reach her. “A spirit guide?"
He reached out and stroked her arm. “A mentor, if you like. It is good that you can see him. If anything happens to me he will be there to guide you."
His eyes grew shuttered, and something leapt inside her. If anything happens to me? In that moment, she realized how deeply she had become attached to this man. This stranger—a stranger who might easily have evil motives behind his seductive ways.
The chaos surrounding her was closing in, ever quicker. She pulled away from him. He was watchful and quiet in response. She put her hand to her forehead, pushing back her hair.
"Empress?” It was one of the guards, his expression heavy with concern.
She nodded at him, before returning her attention to Amshazar. She felt dizzy, suddenly exhausted and cold. “How can I be sure it was not him, and that he acted for you?"
Frustration flitted over his face. “Elishiba, I am here for you, and so is Santor. I cannot say more. You are wounded by what has happened, but you can be sure of me."
Oh, how hard it was to deny him, to deny herself. She longed to slide into his arms in that moment, to take the comfort he offered. But her vow to protect her people meant a heavy burden had been placed upon her, and with Amra's death, guilt and fear had been added to the mix. She felt overwhelmed. She needed the solace of familiarity.
"Amshazar. I am sorry, I cannot promise you anything now.” Her voice caught in her throat, emotion threatening to unhinge her as she drew away from him, forcing herself to deny his offer and all that it might lead to. “I need ... to be with my people."
After a moment he nodded. “I understand. Try to rest."
She walked back to her men, and as she did, she had to wonder—if this had not happened, would she still be in Amshazar's arms?
* * * *
As Amshazar stepped inside his tent and dropped the flap, frustration boiled within him. He did not blame her, under the circumstances, but he resented the situation they found themselves in with all his being. They'd gained so much, and now it had been shattered. Part of him wondered if that was a motive, too. That Sibias had seen their potential closeness developing and plotted to ruin it.
He snatched up his cloak, blew out the candle in his tent, and left. Pacing fast out of the camp and up to the rocks above the encampment, he found a dark place to sit beyond the place where Aleemite warriors scoured the surrounding landscape for evidence of the murderer's escape route. It was a futile hunt, for he was sure that Sibias had used the power of the forbidden ledger. It was hard to track.
Amshazar needed guidance and he focused within, attempting to pass into the higher plane of magi form to undertake passage to the gods’ council. For some reason, he could not. Again he tried, chanting the mantra, visualizing the portal. Frustration was getting the better of him. He had begun to care too deeply for Elishiba, and he questioned what it was doing to him.
"Rest easy, Amshazar,” a familiar voice said.
Opening his eyes he lifted his head and saw Santor standing close by in the darkness
"I sense your impatience,” Santor said.
"Annoyance, perhaps,” Amshazar responded. “I need to seek the advice of the gods, may I be granted an audience?"
Santor stepped aside.
Amshazar's frustration mellowed instantly when he saw who was waiting for him—the goddess Sevita herself. Cloaked heavily, her face was shrouded to conceal her inhuman glow. She moved toward him on a wisp of night breeze.
He was shocked. It was unprecedented; he had never known one of the council to present this way. Getting quickly to his feet, Amshazar bowed his head, dropping to one knee, moving his hand over forehead, throat and chest, in the traditional greeting to show his devotion.
She nodded at him, gesturing for him to stand, her aura glowing. “I heard your call, Amshazar. However, I wished to speak with you alone, rather than with the council. Is that agreeable to you?"
"Yes, of course.” A private audience was better still.
"You are upset at what has happened here, and rightly so.” She gave a sad smile. “You have made great progress with Elishiba, under difficult circumstances."
"I had."
"You feel her pain?"
"Yes.” As he looked into her shimmering eyes, he understood why she had asked that. “Is that what this is about? Is it necessary for me to feel her pain?"
"No,” she responded, smiling gently at him. “It was merely an observation. It wasn't even necessary for you to become emotionally involved, but your affection for Elishiba grows. You believe it will complicate things. I believe it will give you new strength, as it will her.” She paused. “Few great things are achieved without growth and pain, Amshazar. The passage toward love and happiness is rarely trouble-free. It involves sacrifice. Compromise. It involves feeling things that we perhaps do not want to feel, such as the pain that the one we care for feels."
Amshazar pressed his lips together, trying not to respond badly. Now was not the time for pronouncements of affection or doubt about the nature of love and its effects on his ability to think with clarity. “Forgive me, goddess, I am merely frustrated because I had begun to gain her trust. This has put a barrier between us."
"It has, but it is not insurmountable. That which you have forged cannot be undone. We cannot control how everyone here will behave. There are no guarantees, Amshazar. As hard as that may be, we are only here to guide, we cannot interfere further than that."
He nodded, his head lowering. She was right; he had been hotheaded and lacked caution, in the heat of the matter. “I understand."
"You are in a difficult situation, and you care for Elishiba. But I believe she is stronger than we had even suspected. The power was in her all along, all you have done is draw back the veil."
It was true. For those who studied the art of sorcery, it took time. The passage of many moons. Not so for Elishiba. Just as the magi leaders had suggested, there was something special about the Empress, something that had encouraged the gods to guide her. “Goddess, forgive me for my impertinence, but I sensed from the beginning you had some other motive here? Am I correct?"
"You are astute.” She smiled. “As you are probably aware, for the longest time I have fought for the women of the world to be allowed the chance to enter the Magi School, but the council would not entertain the idea. I have long been convinced women such as Elishiba would have natural talents in sorcery, that their female emotion would empower them. It is early yet, but Santor informs me of your fast progress. You have opened her eyes to the path."
"Yes. I was skeptical at first, but as soon as I met her, I saw it in her. She is naturally adept and has learned the way very quickly."
He frowned, unsure how he felt about the fact that the goddess was using Elishiba to prove her point with the council.
"Do not think badly of me, please. She is for me a test ... mayhap a way to prove my point, but what we teach can only help her."
As her words sank in and he realized how easily she could read him, he mustered the ability to create some distance between what he was feeling, and what was really happening. He saw that his emotions were bringing him confusion.
Was
this what love did to a man?
Apparently so.
It wasn't something he had ever considered, and he felt a wry sense of self-awareness when he realized what was going on. “Yes, Goddess,” he said, apologetically. “I do understand that, forgive my heated call for your guidance."
"Please, don't apologize. I wished to speak with you on this matter. Your timing was right and true. Go back to the encampment, Amshazar, because your protection and guidance will be needed there soon.” She opened her cloak and moved her hand in the direction of the dark side of the camp, shedding a fast-shifting beam of moonlight over the place where the animals were being kept.
"Keep the faith,” she added, “and all will be well."
* * * *
Kerr needed air, but he would not leave Elra's side until she rested.
When Elishiba returned, she and Yoshi called the sentries and they finally managed to withdraw the body from the tent, after Elra had swallowed all of the draft Yoshi prepared. She whimpered at the sight of the body of her twin being taken away, but was struck by a torpor too heavy to fight any longer. When she grew drowsy, Kerr moved from her side, covering her over with a blanket and leaving her under Yoshi's watchful eyes. He found that he grew dizzy when he stood up and moved around.
"I must get air,” he whispered to Yoshi.
She nodded, blinking softly, understanding him. “We will watch over her."
Kerr glanced back, unsure. She was still whimpering even in her sleep, her arms folded across her chest, her fingers clutching at herself as if part of it had been wrenched away, which, he supposed was what has happened to her. The thought of it sickened him again. Once again, bile rose in his throat. He'd held himself together for her sake, but now he walked to the tent flap; lifting it, he disappeared outside.
The air hit him with startling force as he walked away and he realized how oppressive it had been in there. He stopped and retched. Drawing the back of his hand across his mouth, he leveled himself and breathed deeply. Staggering between the tents, he moved away between them for a moment's solace. He walked and walked, and when his head cleared he found himself out where the animals were tethered. It was dark out here at the edge of the encampment.
Kerr cocked his head, listening, for something made him uneasy. The sound of distressed animals? He still felt light-headed when he moved, but he was compelled to follow the sound. He moved carefully, peering between the tents. After a moment he heard voices whispering—men, talking. One seemed to be instructing the other.
"Take the carcass beyond the camp and bury it deep,” the voice said.
Kerr was near the perimeter of the encampment, and he could see the outline of the beasts tied up nearby. There was movement in their midst. As his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, he saw two men moving around in the moonlight, and he recognized both of them.
But it was the sight at their feet that captured his attention most of all. Amongst the animals—many of them mewling in distress—a young goat was laid out and pinned to the ground, its body cut open from end to end. The creature's entrails had been pulled out and wrapped around its own throat.
Kerr had never seen anything like it before.
But oh, he had.
Yoshi had said Amra's murder was an act of sorcery from the dark ledger. He hadn't understood what she meant at the time, but now he knew instinctively that it related to this. This was the evil power she had sensed. The similarity between his beloved friend Amra and the poor unfortunate sacrifice showed him exactly how the deed had been done. Hidden here, amongst the animals where no one would think to look at the poor beasts, this goat had been sacrificed in Amra's name.
Sibias unfolded a piece of sacking and handed it to Patrino, gesturing beyond the horses. “Hurry, my boy. You have done well so far, you led the Aleemites a merry dance. Surely the sight of a little blood is not affecting you?"
The older man laughed, but Kerr could sense that Patrino felt discomfort. Kerr stepped back, and as he did Sibias looked in his direction, his head snapping up as if he had heard.
Kerr's heart hammered in his chest, his skin growing damp. He knew that if they found him watching, he was in grave danger.
A voice hissed to him from behind where he stood. “Step to your right. The moon is casting your shadow, move beyond it."
He did as instructed, seeking out sight of his rescuer as he did.
A tall figure moved swiftly through the shadows toward him. Still unsure, he was about to take flight when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning quickly, he found that he stared into the face of Amshazar. Kerr saw concern and restless emotions reflected in his eyes. Glancing back he saw that Sibias moved closer.
Amshazar held one finger to his lips.
Kerr looked from one to the other, suddenly afraid that he had walked into a trap. These two were oft together.
"Rest easy, young man. I will not let them know you are here."
Kerr saw Amshazar's eyes glistening in the darkness. Then he lifted his cloak, as if to conceal Kerr behind it.
Surely it would not be enough to conceal them both? With bated breath, Kerr listened. The footsteps grew closer. Sibias would see them there, in the shadows, surely? Cloak or not. Then he noticed how dense the darkness was behind the cloak, and felt a strange tingling in his limbs. The footsteps paused and then moved on, before retracing back to the spot where Patrino still labored.
As the cloak lowered, Kerr saw they were safe. Somehow, Amshazar had concealed them both. Kerr breathed somewhat easier. He knew little of this man called Amshazar, except that something about him made him feel in awe. That feeling grew.
Amshazar nodded toward the center of the encampment and put an arm around his shoulder, quickly leading him away from the spot.
"We must tell someone what we saw,” Kerr said when they were a safe distance away.
"No,” Amshazar replied. “Not yet. I will deal with Sibias when we reach Lhastari. If we acted on our knowledge now, we would alert Elishiba's enemies. They mean to undermine her. For the time being, we must act as if we don't know who has done this. We must show strength in the face of adversity."
Kerr frowned, not sure he understood.
"This has been done as a warning. Be vigilant now. Tell me, how does your mistress fare?"
"She is sick with worry. Yoshi has given Elra a sleeping draught and she rests now, but it is a troubled sleep. Amra's murder has affected us all.” His thoughts were still in turmoil. “Do you think the empress will be able to return home? I know she will not be safe in Lhastari, for surely there is more of this to come."
Amshazar gave a gentle nod. “You are not wrong there. Alas, she must continue on this journey, dangerous though it is. Be strong for her and her kin, you are helping by being with her."
Amshazar squeezed his shoulder, which somehow made Kerr feel stronger. “I will try."
"Be watchful. Together we can help her."
"Forgive me,” Kerr mumbled, “for I am so unsure."
"Do not be afraid. I know that it must seem odd, because you know me as one of the Karseedians."
Kerr nodded.
"I am here for another reason than that which might be obvious."
They were close to the center of the camp, and Kerr noticed that Amshazar had led him back toward the empress's tent, safely removed from Sibias and his suspicious task with Patrino. “There seems to be wrongdoing everywhere, it is difficult to know who to trust."
"You are not the first person who has said that to me tonight,” Amshazar replied with a rather sad smile. He stopped walking and faced Kerr. “You have been worried about your friend Kazeen, yes?"
Kerr was startled by the unexpected remark. “Yes, I have."
"Kazeen is safe in the city of Lhastari, but hidden, for the Empress Mehmet has put a price on his head. She wishes him dead."
Kerr heated with a sense of injustice. “Why?"
"She is a cruel woman. I tell you this because I want you to trust me, and see I mean
no harm. I will help you see him again, when we get there, if you will help me."
"I thought perhaps he had been killed, but hoped it were not true."
"It was a close thing, but he is safe."
"What is it you want me to do?"
"It may be hard for me to speak with Elishiba from now on. I need you to be my eyes and ears, and to pass a message to her if I cannot get close to her myself."
Kerr paused, turning his doubts over in his mind. As he did, the moonlight fell across them and he saw the sincerity in Amshazar's eyes. He could not doubt this man. Deep inside he felt the honesty of Amshazar's words. His purpose was just.
"Your will is done,” Kerr whispered.
Chapter Eight
In the early dawn light, Elishiba sat up and stretched her stiff limbs. She had not slept. They had spent the night coiled together, Elra, Kerr, and Elishiba. Yoshi had sat nearby, propped against a stack of cushions, dozing on and off as she watched over them. Elishiba was relieved to see that she was snoring softly now.
Elra's face was grief-marked even in repose. She clutched Amra's scarlet sash against her body. Kerr held her loosely, but close, and the image touched Elishiba. It was as if he had offered himself as a surrogate twin. Was this part of the sense of destiny about young Kerr that Yoshi had foreseen? Elishiba wondered on it. He had become part of their intimate group, and she was glad of it.
Outside, the camp was stirring. There would be gossip and whispering as they prepared for the onward journey, speculation about the danger into which they all apparently traveled. It wasn't far now. They would arrive in Lhastari before nightfall. Elishiba was ready for it. Amshazar was right. Amra's murder would either weaken or strengthen her. She felt cold, empty, but strong and purposeful. That she had been naive and unarmed was more than apparent. She would have to be more thoroughly prepared from now on.
She crept closer alongside Elra and stroked her forehead, pushing her loose hair back from her face. Elra's eyes opened. She stared up at her mistress, and then silent tears began to mark her face. The pain inside her was great, but instinctively Elishiba knew what to do. And she believed now, she believed that she could help her people. Whether the sorcery that Amshazar had introduced her to was the same breed of esoteric power as that which had been used to cause Amra's death, she could not be sure, but she would use what she knew to heal now, to restore the balance.
Unveiling the Sorceress Page 14
