Betrayal

by Fiona McIntosh

  ‘You are fortunate, Inquisitor Goth…er, if that is possible under these circumstances. A while longer and we would not have been able to staunch the bleeding. You will be weak for many days but you will live.’

  The doctor nervously began to clear away his instruments.

  ‘And my—’

  ‘I can’t save it,’ the physic interrupted, his tension spilling over.

  Being in the same room as this man was frightening enough. He was known to kill without conscience. Still, he was being paid well. All he needed to do now was to finish and leave swiftly; but his nervousness betrayed him.

  ‘Your days of siring are over.’ And then his nerves betrayed him and the frightened thoughts tumbled out before he could stop them. ‘You’ll have to squat like a woman to piss.’

  Goth felt the fury course through his body. The bitch and her accomplice, whoever that strong bastard was, would pay for this. He would hunt them down and he would kill them. In spite of his weakness, he reached over and grabbed the sweating doctor by the throat, squeezing just hard enough to choke the breath from him.

  ‘If you breathe a word of this to anyone I’ll slice you into small pieces, after you’ve watched me slice open each member of your family and feed them to the town dogs. A handsome wife and two pretty daughters, I believe?’

  The doctor stared into the mad black dots of his patient’s eyes. He felt his bladder release as Goth let go of his throat.

  ‘I have nothing to say to anyone, sir,’ he croaked, hoping it was the right choice of words this time.

  Goth’s stare gave no quarter to the petrified man.

  ‘Go now, doctor, and find yourself some fresh breeches. Is my man out there?’ The rimmis was finally beginning to make him fade. He must hold on just a while longer. He saw the man nod tentatively. ‘Send him in immediately. And remember your promise, for I am a man of my word.’

  The physic fled. Moments later an Inquisitor appeared at Goth’s side. It was Rhus. He bent low to hear his chief.

  ‘Those people who brought me here…’ The man nodded. ‘Do you know who they are? How many?’

  ‘Yes, Lord Goth. There are four who saved you. A family named Horris. The parents laid you out and the son was sent to fetch that physic. His baby sister remained here. They await your pleasure.’

  No wasted words; he knew not to raise the Chief Inquisitor’s ire.

  Goth sighed with relief. ‘Good man. Kill them all, including the doctor and his family. Do it now and let there be no trace.’

  14

  Saxon the Kloek

  Sorrel could hear Alyssa’s laughter coming from a small clearing near the camp. They had recently set up within the northern region of the Great Forest which stretched almost the length of the Kingdom.

  She had been surprised when young Caerys had scuttled up to the cart they had hitched to Kythay and given the message to break for camp. Like most Tallinese she was respectful towards the Great Forest. It was said to be enchanted and although it did not terrify her—as it did many people—she had not felt comfortable at spending a night, perhaps more, here. It seemed the gypsies of Tallinor were oblivious to the long-held notion that the forest was a world unto itself.

  Zorros had ambled back up the line of wagons, as comfortable as if they were unsaddling their horses outside a decent inn. Sorrel had decided to follow suit. The gods had protected her for too many centuries already to kill her off now, before her job was done. She had swallowed her disquiet. Now, with a stew gently simmering over a fire, she relaxed against an old tree and reflected on the past days.

  When she had returned to Fragglesham Green on that terrible night it was already deserted and she could just see the swinging lanterns of the disappearing caravan of Cirq Zorros. She had cursed her luck and urged Kythay to hurry but he had characteristically refused to go faster than he chose himself and it had taken a long time to draw level with the wagon in which Alyssa sat huddled close to Saxon. Neither seemed surprised to see her.

  Sorrel noticed Alyssa had a sickly pallor and her eyes were dimmed. At first she thought they had drugged the girl and felt a flare of her old anger towards Saxon, but before she could say anything he explained that Alyssa was ailing from the blows she had received from Goth. He was worried, especially as he knew Zorros had no intention of stopping the caravan but would travel through the night to get as far away from Fragglesham as possible.

  Together they laid her down in the wagon and when Saxon picked up the reins again and they had some privacy, she stripped Alyssa. Even in the watery light of a trembling candle flame the sight of the girl’s abused body was still a terrible shock. It had taken Sorrel several days of tireless care to bring her through the dangerous first stage of recovery. Her fevers were high, leaving her shaking and delirious, crying out in her fretful sleep.

  Sorrel treated the worst cuts and put warmed poultices on the severely bruised areas. It took all of her knowledge of herbs to treat Alyssa’s internal wounds and she had made her drink the black tonic to flush out Goth’s hateful seed. Fortunately, the girl’s bleed arrived not long after. That seemed to be a turning point and from then Alyssa had started to mend fast.

  Sorrel noted that Alyssa’s friendship with Saxon had also deepened. Saxon was not romancing the girl as Sorrel had originally presumed. Instead he seemed more a father figure. She was glad of him in their lives now and she enjoyed his intelligent, witty company as much as Alyssa did.

  On Saxon’s advice they had continued to travel with the circus to the far north-west. He suggested they stay with the caravan as long as possible before leaving its security to head further north still to Ildagarth.

  Sorrel stirred the stew again. It was almost ready. She heard Alyssa’s voice and looked to where she could see the girl squirming while Caerys demonstrated the rudiments of snake swallowing. She listened in on their chatter and smiled at Alyssa’s squeal when her friend pulled a bright green snake from the hessian sack between them.

  ‘Ooh, I hate this one—what’s his name again?’

  ‘This is Jinn. ’E’s my favourite—as you well know—and ’e does ’is trick neatly and gives me no grief.’

  Alyssa grimaced again.

  Caerys continued. ‘Now shall I go through it again and then you might want to ’ave a try,’ he offered.

  ‘Yes, please. All of that except the part about me having a try.’ She giggled.

  Sorrel knew Caerys was as much under Alyssa’s charm as the rest of the younger men in the troupe. Who could blame them?

  Caerys sighed. ‘’Ow will you ever learn this if you don’t try?’

  She gave him a murderous look and he capitulated.

  ‘I’ve already cut the stinger out of Jinn ’ere ’cause ’e’s more than capable of ’urting me. ’E does taste queer. Draw’d the roof of my mouth the first few times. Rough sort of a taste and the scales scuff you a bit when you pull ’im back.’

  ‘Ugh.’ Alyssa shuddered. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Well, you see a snake will go into ever such a little ’ole and they are smooth one way but rough the other when you pull ’em back. Jinn’s ’ead will go about this much down my throat…’ he said, showing her the distance between thumb and first finger in the air, ‘and the rest of ’im curls around like in my mouth. You’ve seen me ’old ’im by ’is tail but what you don’t know is that I gives ’im a little pinch like this and that makes ’im go all the way in.’

  He could see she was still puzzled.

  ‘So why doesn’t he just keep going down your throat?’

  Caerys beamed. ‘Clever Alyssa, you are! ’E would do that, ’e would! But I’m cleverer. I nip ’is tail with my nails like a pincer because ’is tail is slippery and I musn’t let ’im go.’

  He demonstrated. Alyssa felt queasy to witness it so close up. She thanked him but did not wait to watch him drag the hapless Jinn back out of his mouth. Instead she hurried to Sorrel by the fire and took over stirring the pot.

  ‘Tha
t’s some fine trick which Caerys can do with the snake,’ Sorrel said, tossing seasoning into the stew.

  ‘Oh, he is clever, that’s for sure. You know he can swallow blades and knives too. I’ve even seen him swallow a sharpened sword.’ Alyssa said it with pride.

  Sorrel handed her their clay bowls. ‘Is Saxon joining us?’

  ‘No, he’s eating with his family,’ Alyssa said, ladling stew into each bowl and handing one to Sorrel.

  ‘That woman’s jealous of you, you know.’

  Alyssa nodded quietly. ‘Yes, I do know. I’ve heard her talk unkindly to him about me. He’s very good to her and the boys since his brother was killed in the accident but she can be very hard on him.’ Her voice trailed off.

  Sorrel was pleased Alyssa was opening up a little for she was normally very guarded in her discussions about anything personal. Perhaps now might be a good time.

  ‘You know, when you were sick and I sat with you day after awful day in that wagon, you called out someone’s name time and again in your fevers.’

  ‘Did I?’ Alyssa seemed amused as she dipped a small hunk of bread in her gravy.

  ‘Mmm, yes. You called him Tor. You kept begging him to talk to you.’

  ‘I don’t remember.’ She answered the old girl cautiously.

  Sorrel was determined to know more.

  ‘Who is he?’ She kept her voice light, trying to look more interested in her food.

  ‘A friend.’

  ‘Do you miss him, my girl?’

  This time Alyssa paused for a stretch of time. ‘More than he will ever know.’

  ‘Will you tell me about him?’

  ‘Some time I will.’

  As Alyssa’s large eyes rose to meet Sorrel’s, Saxon strode into view and broke the awkwardness of the moment. He pulled a flask from his pocket and took a sip, then passed it to Sorrel who accepted. They began to talk quietly around the fire as night set in and the camp settled down.

  ‘Zorros is headed for Ardeyran in the far north. You will need to farewell them at Bebberton on the edge of Ildagarth. We’ll do a show here and there, whenever he thinks it’s safe. We need to earn enough funds to cover our food and that of the animals. No profit, just survival for now.’

  Alyssa shifted to a more comfortable position to enjoy the fire. The nights certainly were cool now.

  ‘How can Sorrel and I do our bit?’

  ‘Well, I’ve been thinking about that. We can teach you a few tricks. I’ve been working on a new routine with the boys which was always going to require a fourth. Young Maze is not strong enough to handle it, but with some training I believe you can.’ He continued quickly with his idea for Sorrel. ‘Perhaps you could prepare some of your medications; teach some of the women about treatments and infections. I know Zorros would view this as a very special consideration on your part.’

  Sorrel shrugged. ‘It’s the least I can do but I’m not sure about Alyssa joining the act, Saxon.’

  Alyssa refused to be spoken about as though she was a child or, worse, not there. ‘I think I should, Sorrel, if just for the protection these people are giving me. I can do it. Saxon will be there and I’m not scared by it at all.’

  If anything Alyssa felt elated that he had included her in his plans. ‘How does Greta feel about this?’

  ‘She has no choice,’ he replied evenly. ‘Good, I’m glad that’s settled. Tomorrow we begin your training.’

  Sorrel opted to leave well alone. She knew Alyssa could always fall back on her power if Saxon’s stunts proved too challenging, but in a society which had experienced centuries of persecution towards the Power Arts she still felt daunted by Alyssa’s casual use of it. She drifted into a restless sleep, knowing she would have to tell Merkhud the latest turn of events but that it could wait until tomorrow.

  Safe in the Great Forest the circus folk were in no hurry to leave.

  ‘Count, damn you! Don’t jump on five, jump on the sixth beat.’ Saxon’s voice boomed. They had agreed to speak out loud in front of the Fox family.

  ‘I thought you meant me to go on five,’ Alyssa hurled back angrily as she stood between an amused Milt and Oris, balancing on their linked arms.

  Saxon took a calming breath. ‘No. Five. Then jump.’

  She did as she was told.

  ‘That was a fine jump, Alyssa,’ Milt offered.

  Saxon snorted. Anything Alyssa did was fine by Milt. ‘It was hopeless. She has to nail it over and over and over or it could cost her life. Do it again!’

  ‘Saxon, I’ve had enough for today.’ She tried hard to keep the anger from her voice this time.

  ‘You’ll keep doing it until I—not love-struck Milt—tell you it’s fine.’ He turned his back, ashamed that he had hit out at harmless Milt who had reddened instantly.

  Oris whispered close to her ear. ‘It’s not worth arguing. He always wins. He’s just like our father was.’

  This last he said wistfully and when Alyssa looked into his eyes she saw his sadness. She missed a father too.

  ‘Let’s try again,’ she said, bending her knees slightly as their arms slackened to create a bouncing platform.

  After a count of five, the boys threw her upwards; in that same moment she somersaulted but landed badly on Saxon’s back, misjudging his shoulders.

  This time he swung around, rage in his face, hands clenched into huge fists. She had seen that bleak look before and she knew the person on the receiving end of it had been left broken…dead.

  ‘For Light’s sake, Alyssa! You have to land on my shoulders every time, not once every now and then. I can’t see you so I can’t catch you. You need to make this jump on your own.’ His eyes glittered with unspent anger.

  She slid down to the ground, past anger herself, perplexed at his hostility.

  She opened the link. I don’t want to do this any more.

  ‘Go back and repeat it,’ he said aloud, challenging her to disobey him. The forest fell silent whilst the two of them eyed each other like predators.

  Alyssa, seething, capitulated and clambered back onto the arms of the patient boys. She would show him.

  This time when she jumped she closed her eyes and let go with just a small push of her power, feeling where Saxon was. As she somersaulted high she relinquished all fear and trusted her senses.

  Sorrel felt the thrum of magic as she bent to pick some scaffer leaves and Saxon felt it too, as he stood with his back turned, waiting for the girl’s feet to thump into his shoulders.

  When they did he reached quickly behind to grab her ankles and prevent her falling backwards, although he knew this time she would not fall. The two boys were cheering and whistling and some of the others who had gathered to watch grinned and clapped, wondering what the fuss was about.

  Saxon was pleased and Alyssa could sense the silent praise which he played right down when he spoke. ‘Now that was good. Soon you will be able to land this jump from anywhere at any time, blindfolded if necessary.’

  The four of them continued to practise to Saxon’s precise instructions over the next two days, until Zorros remarked that the caravan would be moving on the next evening. They would aim to give their first performance at Shockleton Marsh two nights hence.

  When the caravan did move on Sorrel travelled with Greta for a change. Alyssa and Saxon found themselves alone for the first time in the weeks since he had dealt with Goth. They travelled in comfortable silence for an hour or so before Saxon broke it.

  ‘Sorrel keeps a close eye on you.’

  Alyssa laughed and he realised how much he loved the way her nose wrinkled when she did so and just how beautiful this girl was.

  ‘She does. I think she thought you had designs on me.’

  It was his turn to smile. ‘I do. But not in the way she suspected.’

  Alyssa was not sure whether she was relieved or disappointed by his remark. He was a most handsome man and there was certainly a curious intimacy to their relationship. She loved to be close to him and he co
uld make her laugh, make her furious, make her cry. Most of all he made her feel safe. It was frightening to realise they must part soon and then she and Sorrel would be alone again, making their way to Ildagarth.

  She shifted closer and felt his warmth through her own shirt. ‘I wish I knew what you mean by that, Saxon. We’ve never talked about why we’re here together. Tell me.’ There was a plea in her voice he could not ignore.

  ‘I will tell you what I know.’

  Holding her breath, she focused on Kythay’s ears which were flicking backwards and forwards as he plodded alongside their wagon. The caravan was moving steadily but not fast and she allowed Saxon’s now soft voice to enter her head as he linked with her and began his tale.

  He had been born to a carpenter father and a mother who took in washing from surrounding towns. Theirs, Hertsey, was in the central southern area of the Kingdom and the family, though hardly more than ‘comfortable’, lived happily there.

  The two boys, although born in Tallinor, were not allowed to forget their Kloek heritage. The tiny island’s culture was taught to them by their father of an evening as he sat by the fire, smoking a hand-carved pipe and rocking gently in a chair of his own design. He had come to Tallinor as a child with his family who, despite their desire to escape the poverty on their ancestral island, was rich in the Kloekish traditions.

  Saxon and his brother, Lute, older by one summer, were close. They argued and fought like any brothers but disagreements were swiftly forgotten. According to Saxon, Lute showed an early talent for tumbling and was spotted by visiting gypsies. Word somehow got back to Cirq Zorros and he was offered a decent wage to join a new troupe of acrobats.

  It was no surprise—though still heartbreaking for their parents—when Saxon, seemingly incapable of happiness without his elder brother, joined up also. He was not as supple as Lute but possessed more daring and dash; always prepared to try out ever-more dangerous stunts to impress audiences.