by Anna Kashina
With slow underwater strokes she swam toward a low line of ivies, whose drooping branches created a perfect curtain over the water near the shore. Once inside their shade, she chose a flat piece of the bank and pulled herself onto it in one smooth move.
The water had been cooler than comfortable, but the fresh bite of the early morning breeze made her long for the lake’s protective shelter. She flexed her muscles to warm up, quickly squeezing the water out of her clothes and hair, and checking her weapons in their numerous straps. Once dry, she should give them a good cleanup, she thought, then stopped herself. Someone else would clean her weapons before claiming them for their own. Very soon, none of this would matter anymore.
She knew Mai would mount a search party as soon as he noticed her absence, but she hoped with all the bustle associated with disembarking, she had enough of a head start. All she needed now was to get far enough from civilization so that she’d be unlikely to be found for a sufficiently long time. A quick stab to the heart would do the job, and with all her combat training she should have no trouble doing it. She knew the perfect spot where she could slide a blade between her ribs without much resistance.
She looked at the sky. The slant of the rising sunbeams told her she must have spent at least an hour swimming away from the barge, and probably another half hour finding the best place to come ashore. Mai should be in port now, probably getting the horses saddled for pursuit and giving hell to his men for missing her escape. He would ride as fast as he could. But without knowing where exactly to search for her, he would be too late.
She had to make sure of it.
She kept to the line of bushes as she ran away from the water, toward a deeper grove of Lakeland willows that swept the wind with delicate garlands of leaves and honeyed buds. Their drooping curtains provided a perfect shelter from any watchful eyes. No one would ever find her inside.
The willows greeted her with a fresh, sweet aroma that made her head swim. She inhaled deeply before diving into their shade. There. The gnarled, grotesquely woven trunk of the nearest tree had a cleft that could easily hide a body. If she climbed deeper between the roots, no one would find her for days. Not until it was too late.
She briefly wondered why she, a professional killer, was taking such excessive precautions for what should essentially be the easiest kill of all. She also wondered at the unsettling feeling every time she thought of the Keepers’ cures and the many ways they had to bring the mortally wounded back to health. Was it because of the memory of the pain one of these cures caused when used on her own wounds? Or was it the Kaddim’s hatred of the Keepers, seeping into her own consciousness drop by drop, like exquisite poison? Am I thinking like a Kaddim now? The thought made her shudder and she hastened to cover the last few steps to her destination.
“Halt!” A voice at her back made her freeze. It was unfamiliar, young, with a pitch to it that suggested its bearer’s nerves were on edge and he was about to do something rash. Probably holding a loaded crossbow pointed at me. She turned around slowly, keeping her hands in plain sight.
The newcomer wasn’t alone. Four more men crowded at his back, holding the reins of their horses. Their livery looked unfamiliar, black with an embroidery of crossed sabers on the left sleeve. Bengaw heraldry? This far north? She narrowed her eyes, but found no other signs of distinction that could give her a clue.
They all looked young and fit, and all had crossbows pointing in her direction. As she watched, they quickly closed the distance, their faces set into expressions of grim resolve. Damn it, how did they find me here? How could I miss their approach? The willow branches and tall grass concealed sounds, but however stealthy, these newcomers must have made a ruckus riding in.
Unless they had been warned of her arrival and were waiting here in ambush.
Her skin prickled.
“That’s far enough,” she said, halting the group in their tracks. Their fear as they eyed her sparked her curiosity. Do they know who I am? It hardly seemed likely. She wore no Majat regalia, or any other signs of distinction that could connect her to the Guild. Yet, their entranced looks as they watched her every move, the tense set of their bodies, told her they were all on edge. Not a good state of mind for men holding loaded crossbows.
“If you want to talk,” she said, “why don’t you first lower your weapons? I’d hate for any accident to happen, wouldn’t you?” She flexed her arms as she spoke, ready to whip out her swords at the first sign of trouble.
The leader of the group shifted from foot to foot. “We have no wish to talk to you.” He nodded to one of his comrades who lifted his head and whistled loudly through his teeth.
Wings flapped in the distance. Through the drooping ivy branches, Kara caught a glimpse of a large bird rising into the sky.
A messenger hawk? A chill ran down Kara’s spine. The Majat used trained hawks to send messages on the march, but so did pretty much everyone else with a sophisticated long-distance messaging system. Hawks were more reliable than pigeons, which often fell victim to birds of prey, or ravens, which tended to gravitate to their colonies and had limited use for a party on the march. Hawks were also very pricey, which made them the birds of choice only for those nobles who were not only very rich but also haughty enough to show off their wealth. It was quite possible that the lord of these lands, whoever he was, fit the mark. But now, with the Majat party so close by and likely looking for her, this explanation did not seem comforting enough.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
“Our lord’s orders are to keep you here until help arrives.”
Our lord’s. She glanced at the men’s livery again, hoping against reason that all this turmoil had to do with no more than her accidentally trespassing on the lands of an overly territorial Bengaw nobleman.
She tried for her best easygoing smile. “Have I done anything wrong?”
The man frowned with resolve. “Like I said. We’re not here to talk to you. We have our orders.”
Her smile widened. “Do your orders involve shooting me if I refuse to cooperate?” She flicked her eyes to the loaded crossbow, her hand closing over the hilt of her dagger. It wasn’t her most dangerous weapon, by far, but it was the most showy one, its wide blade nearly a foot long, its hilt custom-made to fit over her knuckles with a jagged edge that sometimes came handy in a fight.
The man’s jaw tightened, his wary look confirming her suspicions. He seemed to know exactly what she was capable of – a near impossibility if this was a chance meeting.
To find her so soon, Mai had to have had help. But how could he possibly know anyone on this side of the Lakes?
“If your orders involve shooting,” she said, “do it now. I’m in a hurry.”
The man’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. “You want us to shoot you?”
“Since you have crossbows all armed and ready, I assume you’re planning to use them. I’d rather get it over with, so that I can be on my way.”
He licked his lips nervously, exchanging a quick glance with his comrades. Kara could see the way his knuckles went white as he tightened the grip on his weapon and hoped the safety catch was on. Of course, being killed was exactly what she came here for, but she couldn’t possibly trust the job to the amateurs.
“I’ve no time to wait around for your lord,” she said. “Frankly, I don’t want to harm you over this, but I’ll do it if I have to.” She drew her blade, noting how the men backed off, clearly hesitating whether to stick to their orders or run for their lives.
Kara quickly reached forward and sliced off the string of the nearest crossbow, stepping aside as the bolt discharged into a tree trunk. Another man fired a half-hearted shot. She hacked down the bolt with her dagger, stepping out of the way of the flying splinters.
The men dropped their weapons and backed away. She was impressed, however, that they didn’t run far or attempt to mount their horses. One of them even tried to interfere when she picked up the reins of the nearest animal. Sh
e stopped him with a short glance and jumped into the saddle.
A low-pitched whistle cut the air behind her, followed by the cracking of broken branches and pounding of the approaching hoofbeat. Kara swore under her breath and threw her captured horse into gallop across the clearing. Only the Majat used sound arrows as their signals, notched at the base to produce sounds of different pitch. She was willing to bet that this one was meant to alert the Majat searching parties to her whereabouts. She should have acted faster when she had run into the Bengaw patrol, but it was too late for regrets.
She glanced around her shoulder in time to see two riders cut through the line of bushes on the far end of the clearing. More arrows whizzed behind and she heard her horse grunt as it shuddered under her, its front legs folding to the ground, sending her flying. She hit the ground rolling, whipping out her swords as she rose back to her feet.
Lance approached her at full gallop, leaping off the saddle into her path. The Jade at his back pulled his horse to a stop and raised his bow. A Diamond and a Jade. Kara felt an unpleasant hollowness in the pit of her stomach. This was a pair the Guild would send after a renegade Diamond, an undefeatable combination that could take down someone of her skill. Jades, known for their superior accuracy with ranged weapons, would cover the fight from a distance, giving the attacking Diamond the needed advantage to win. Clearly, Mai had anticipated resistance if he sent such a pair after her. Probably several pairs, riding in different directions. That’s how they were able to get here so quickly.
The fact that Lance was the one to find her first was pure bad luck. Lance’s specialty was in his brutal head-on attack, one she would have more trouble countering with her lighter build.
She considered trying to outrun them, but with the Jade already cocking another arrow onto his bow this seemed like a bad move. She didn’t mind him shooting her, but she knew he wouldn’t be shooting to kill, only to disable her enough to secure her capture. The last thing she needed right now was an arrow wound. She glanced with regret at the dead horse she had tried to steal, an arrow sticking out of its eye – a stark reminder of what the Jade now targeting her was capable of. The animal’s needless death would undoubtedly run up Mai’s debt to this local Bengaw lord, whatever the reason was for his willingness to risk his men to help the Majat.
A tug at the back of her conscience became more insistent. She suddenly realized that she had been feeling it for a while, but in the heat of events she had completely dismissed it.
Her forehead instantly covered with cold sweat. When did I sense it first? Probably when I first drew my weapons… Dear Shal Addim. My skill. They are draining my skill as long as I’m using it. And now, if I fight with Lance I will play right into their hands.
Damn it, how do I keep falling for the same trap over and over?
She dropped her swords.
“I’m not going to fight you, Aghat Lance,” she said. “I can’t fight you without opening up my skill to the enemy. Please, just let me go.”
He briefly shook his head. “You know I can’t.”
She stepped closer and paused as he raised his sword. His warded look hit her like a lash. He doesn’t know if he can trust me. Hell, I don’t know if I can trust myself, can I?
“You know things can’t possibly end well, as long as I’m around,” she said. “The Kaddim are doing everything possible to use me to win this war. My mere presence on our force puts everyone in danger, starting with Mai. I’m not asking you to do anything at all, just look the other way for a second so that I can leave quietly.”
His gaze wavered. “I’m sorry, Aghat. We both know this isn’t my decision to make. My ranking at the Guild wouldn’t mean much if I tried to take the matters into my own hands.”
Kara’s eyes narrowed. This was exactly what got her into trouble with the Guild before. Taking the matters into her own hands. She didn’t wish this on Lance. If he helped her escape just now, Mai’s wrath would know no bounds. And yet, they both knew that Mai’s opinion in this matter couldn’t be fully trusted. However good a commander Mai was, he was blindsighted where Kara was concerned. If the events were allowed to run their course, his feelings toward her were going to bring about the Guild’s end. Yet, she knew she couldn’t possibly force Lance to shoulder all this responsibility.
Rustling and cracking at the edge of the glade announced the arrival of a new pair of riders. Entranced, Kara watched Mai dismount, a Jade at his back releasing a sound arrow with a different pitch into the sky. Calling off the search, Kara guessed. She locked gazes with Mai as he stepped up in front of her.
They stood for a long moment looking at each other. Kara’s heart raced as she read Mai’s emotions, visible only to her in his outwardly impassive face. Relief, at finding her unharmed. Disbelief, at the knowledge of what she had done. But the one that stung the most was the distrust, similar to the one she saw in Lance’s eyes just a short time ago. He isn’t sure he can believe me anymore. He doesn’t even know if I am acting of my own free will.
Am I?
She swallowed a lump rising in her throat. Up until now her way of dealing with emotional challenges had been to close up and detach herself from the situation. This didn’t work at all between her and Mai. The Majat assassins were not supposed to love, if only because of this vulnerability.
The recent events raised too many questions in her mind. Was it her own idea to abandon her party and seek solitude, or did the Kaddim instill this thinking? Was this another ploy to make sure she was forced to use her skill and they could tap into it? She saw no possibility of her plan to kill herself benefiting the Kaddim, but the way it compelled her to hide in the woods rather than just finish the job on the spot did not really stand up to scrutiny. Even less so did her sudden fear that the Keepers’ cures could bring her back from the dead. The Kaddim are able to resurrect. Have I become afraid of someone resurrecting me?
Dear Shal Addim.
She lifted her chin.
“I apologize for causing all this trouble, Aghat Mai,” she said formally. “I thought I was helping. I now see that I was wrong.”
A tug at her mind felt like a stab of a sharp blade. Her vision blurred and she sank to the ground.
12
Return
Voices around Kara kept getting louder, making it impossible to concentrate. They seemed to be coming from all sides, some clear, as if the speakers were nearby, others indistinct and hollow, as if echoing through deep stone hallways. She could not make out the words.
She felt as if falling, searching and not finding any solid support. The air around her became damp and chilly, then dry and dusty as she emerged into a chamber. In its vast semidarkness, she could see two men spread in a lover-like embrace on top of an elevated stone platform that emanated a strange form of power, comforting and frightening at the same time. Sickening details came into view as her vision cleared, the man below a rotting corpse, the one above him sinking his hands into the dissolving flesh. Then she saw the corpse move, eyes inside the disintegrating sockets rolling wildly, his body thrashing in agony under the other man’s touch. Pain. So much pain. Her ears opened to hear the howling of the wind outside, and piercing screams that shook her to the core.
Come… to me… Kara…
Kara!
Sharp pain pierced her head like a needle and she cried out, trying to shield her face. Strong hands pried her arms away. She fought back with all her might, until she was pinned down and immobile. Strangely, as she struggled uselessly against the iron-hard hold, the pain in her head slowly receded, the reality around her surfacing with additional senses – a touch of cool wind on her cheek, grass stems biting into her neck. She smelled earth and ivy, leather and sweat, and horses some distance away. Then, a sharp medicinal scent hit her nostrils, snapping her back to alertness.
She opened her eyes, taking in the scene. Mai was straddling her chest in a nasty leg block, his knees pinning down her outstretched arms, his weight balancing over her fluidly to p
revent any attempts to escape. Lance was crouching beside him with a small dark flask in hand. Milk of thorn. Her eyes teared up from the memory of the sharp scent, normally used to repel insects but very effective as a smelling salt. Damn it, what is going on?
She unclenched her hands, relaxing back into the grass to show her surrender. The two Diamonds exchanged quick glances, as if deciding if she was worth their trust. Then Mai released his block and rolled off, the absence of his weight making her feel light, as if flying. She flexed her muscles, wondering at the soreness she felt. How long did the fight last?
Lance rose from his crouch and stepped away, corking his flask and shoving it into a pouch at his belt. Mai sat on his heels next to her, watching. She saw his muscles flex as he peered into her face, as if bracing for another attack.
“What did I do?” she asked.
Mai frowned. “You were clawing at your head. When I tried to stop you, you…” He paused, a shadow running over his face.
“I… what?”
“You lashed out,” Lance said. “You also spoke in a strange language. We weren’t sure you were yourself.”
Clearly not. She glanced at the bruises darkening on Mai’s skin, at the long rip in Lance’s grass-stained shirt. It was hard to imagine how she could have caused all this ruckus. Diamonds were more or less equal in strength and skill, and when it came to wrestling on the ground she had a disadvantage by being smaller and lighter than either of them. Did the two of them have trouble holding me down? She suppressed a shiver, taking exaggerated care to pull herself upright and remove grass stems and dirt from her own clothes.
