by JANRAE FRANK
Hanadi read just the first few pages before stalking out the door. "Sa'necari. Lots of sa'necari," she muttered uncharacteristically. She spotted Tagalong walking ahead of her. "Tag! You, Tag!"
Tagalong cocked her head as she turned, catching the odd note in Hanadi's voice. "What's up?"
"This is, that's what," Hanadi shoved the open document into Tagalong's hands. "Get Laurelyanne, both read it, then make Aejys read it."
"Aejys is sleeping..."
"Wake her!"
Tagalong blinked. "Okay."
"How do I find the Mar'ajan?"
"Dunno. Haven't been in Iarwind in years."
"Hmnph!" Hanadi snorted, then whistled for Brundarad. The huge animal came trotting out of a distant room "Geoa Odaren," she said and Brundarad dashed off with Hanadi trotting at his side.
* * * *
Tagalong, Laurelyanne and Aejys sat on the huge bed in the lapsed paladin's room, passing the pages of the document from one to the other. Several branches of candles burned on the tables to illuminate the room.
"The war is not over," a voice said softly, turning all eyes.
Aejys' eyes widened, she pushed off the bed, dropping to one knee. "Your Majesty!" She caught Zaren Asharen's gloved hand, touching first her forehead and then her lips to the back.
"Up," Zaren said. "No one knows I'm here, save you and the Mar'ajan."
Zaren Asharen was blade thin and hard. She moved with an economy of motion, nothing wasted, to sit on the chair farthest from the door. Although very young by Sharani standards, barely forty, there was already white in her hair: in some ways the war had been harder on her than on many others. She had had to play a dangerous game of cat and mouse as she ferreted out the traitors in her ma'aram's court and later in her own and then battle a coup and a war that nearly overwhelmed first her city and then her country. She had failed to save her ma'aram and very nearly herself. It had left her a master of the game.
Geoa closed the door as she stepped in.
"I've come to ask that you take no overt action against Margren until we can round up all the traitors in each of the Mar'ajantes."
"There's only three weeks 'til solstice," Tag said pointedly. "Any one ya ain't caught by then..."
Zaren nodded at the dwarf. "If Margren's still loose day before solstice, you may kill her on sight. I've had martial law clamped down on every major city, town, all the places named in this document – except Rowanslea. Kaethreyn will not listen to me. She has disregarded the copy of those documents I sent her. I'm sending Geoa to deal with her. I'd like to avoid civil war with Rowanslea, but Margren has Kaethreyn's ear. You must talk to her, Aejys, make your ma'aram see sense. Otherwise, Mephistis Coleth de Waejonan and his sa'necari and his necari, living and undead alike, will slip through our nets."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN. THE FINAL BETRAYAL
Talons rejoined Blackbird in Rowan City the night after she spoke to Hanadi in Yarrendar. They sat in the upstairs sitting room of a small inn near the west wall, a section of the city occupied mainly by mid level tradesmyn who worked for other masters. With trade winding down for the winter they had no trouble renting the entire floor.
Oil lamps on side tables and one on the center table cast a dancing light across them. Blackbird propped her bad leg up on a chair. She wore nice russet colored wool trousers and a matching tunic with grain sheaves embroidered on the sleeves and neck, the first new clothes she had had in many years. Jysy and Arruth lounged on a pair of comfortably overstuffed couches, looking bored. Like their ma'aram, they wore new clothes, blue and green wool, soft, warm, and comfortable. Birdie and Lizard sat at the round table with Blackbird and Talons. Now and then Birdie's hands would wander down to her stomach; feeling for the child even though she knew it would still be several months before she would feel anything there.
Talons looked very tired and worn, lines of pain in every feature whenever she let down her guard as she did in Blackbird's presence in the privacy of their rooms. Concealing her wounds from Hanadi had taken great effort and now she was paying for it.
Blackbird poured a golden tincture into a small glass, passing it to Talons. "I know you're hurting. This will help."
Talons managed a small smile of acceptance. She took the glass, downing it in one swallow. Warmth spread through her body, easing the pain back but not the exhaustion. "Grandsire has named you an ally. That is very rare," Talons told her quietly. "And Grandsire wishes to recruit some of the children. Will you allow it?"
Blackbird nodded. "Yes. My blessing on it. You're good people."
Talons gave her a long sidewise glance. "Assassins are not good people. But neither are we in league with Bellocar."
"Honorable then," Blackbird said.
Talons smiled in a long, sardonic twist. "Honor among assassins? We live by rules. Honor?" Talons said, waxing unexpectedly philosophical, nearly dying had started her thinking in ways she had not before. "What is that?"
Blackbird shook her head. "Now are you putting me on or are you putting me on?"
"Seriously," she said, leaning closer to Blackbird. "I've been wondering. What is honor?"
Blackbird, crippled former knight, child of the streets and vice, said simply, "A set of rules you live your life by."
Talons shook her head. "You're right in my head... But not in my heart. In my heart, I'm not certain anything is still there."
Blackbird shook her grizzled head. "Don't start questioning until this job is done. It'll make you slow."
Talons gave another small smile with her lips, but her eyes were distant and cold as ice. "Nothing makes me slow. I now have more than fifty kills to my name and I'll make it hundreds more before I'll let Margren take this realm."
"The other mar'ajantes have clamped down hard?"
Talons nodded. "Only Rowanslea is refusing to act on my Grandsire's documents."
"I've already had the kids on the streets. There are a lot of people don't like Margren."
"Rumor is buzzing like a hornet's nest," Birdie said softly. "I told several people I know about what happened in Armaten."
Talons shot her a sharp look.
"Discretely. I left you out," Birdie added.
"Good."
"Tomorrow," Blackbird told them, "we let the other shoe drop. We'll be telling them that Aejys is dead, slain by Margren and that she's planning a violent coup. How long till they find out otherwise ... about Aejys, I mean."
"It will take the Odaren about five days to get here."
"She'll have Aejys with her."
Talons' face went still colder. "Don't count on Aejys arriving."
"What do you mean?" Lizard demanded sharply, reaching for the comfort of Birdie's hand as he did.
"Do you really believe that Margren will let Aejys enter the city without taking another shot at her?"
Jysy and Arruth came erect, leaning toward the table.
"There isn't anything I can do to stop her without compromising everything we've done so far," Talons said. "This close to her seat of power, I do not believe she will fail again."
"Your people fight hard to get her here and then you just let her die?" Blackbird demanded, her voice going hoarse.
"We're not allowing anything. I simply don't believe there is anything more to be done for her. We must save Shaurone. That is the first priority."
Blackbird nodded grimly. "It's down to hard choices then."
"Yes, it is."
* * * *
Within two days Rowan City began to burn. Rioting began in the poor quarter and spread through the streets. Every one who did business with Margren or was accused of it was dragged from their homes and businesses by angry mobs, beaten to death and their buildings fired. Whole streets burned as the fires raged uncontrolled. Innocents died along with the guilty. Kaethreyn doubled the guards and patrols, but by the fourth day many of those guards and soldiers were joining in the violence or falling victim to it. By the fifth, Kaethreyn declared martial law, enforced curfews and forbade pu
blic gatherings – but the violence did not slack.
* * * *
Geoa Odaren called a halt to their march half a day from Rowan City as full darkness fell. Camp was quickly set up despite Aejys' insistence on continuing to the city. They had left Tamlestari behind, safely ensconced in her lasah's castle. That relieved Aejys' mind and as she dismounted beside her tent she felt the burden of her lover's safety lifted from her heart. They were nearly there. Since learning of Ladonys and Laeoli's deaths, she had slept each night, but woke still tired and unrested. She felt numb most of the time. Tagalong and Laurelyanne were ever at her side each day, leaving her only when they were certain that she had fallen asleep. She had scarcely spoken to anyone in days now. She had her sorrow under control enough to present a stolid face to everyone, but no one could police her dreams where she saw her family laying dead before her. She had left them behind when she fled seven years ago, thinking them safe, and now they were dead and she could not stop blaming herself, running haunted what if's through her mind over and over again.
She settled on her cot, pulled her pipe out and smoked for just a couple of breaths before putting it aside because she found no comfort in it. Aejys pulled a bottle of whiskey from her saddlebags, popped the cork, and began to drink it straight. When her brain began to fog, she laid back and slept.
* * * *
Tamlestari sat before the fire in her room, her gloved hands carefully fitting the death runed arrowheads to new shafts. She bound them with gut and then hooded each arrow with a black silken cover. She knew why Aejys had driven her off, rejected her – that Aejys feared for her safety and their children's' – but her heart was heavy. Tears ran freely down her face. She pulled her gloves off, wiping her cheeks and eyes. The children rolled in her womb, kicking her in tiny jerks. She slid the arrows into a new quiver she had bought just for them. Then she folded her hands across her swelling belly, feeling the kicks with her hands. New life. Feeling them comforted her amidst all the death that had followed her on the road. "Aejys, Aejys, please come back to me, to us."
If Margren harmed Aejys these arrows would surely kill her. Tamlestari could more and more easily imagine shooting Margren with the death runed arrows. Whatever Margren had become, she would die.
* * * *
Disaster came silently in the night while the camp slept. Force had failed Margren, so at Mephistis' urging, they tried stealth instead. Mephistis had been unable to discover whether the nightmare mage who had turned their sending was in the company and had no wish to risk another engagement with him without knowing what he was and where he had come from. Mephistis led three of his most powerful sa'necari to the edge of the encampment. They knelt beside a broad pine, its low hanging branches the perfect concealment, waiting for the watch to pass them. A pair of Sharani knights paused in the moonlight silver gilding the edges of their armor. Mephistis reached out with his power, extending his hand in a brief arcane gesture to snare their minds. Had they been ha'taren, the spell would never have worked, the paladins would have sensed it and resisted. The knights stood, staring out into nothing while a sign from Mephistis sent two sa'necari up behind them. The sa'necari quietly dragged the unresisting knights into their place of concealment and began to feed.
Mephistis nodded to his third and they moved deeper into the camp. The others would feed several times that night; many who slept would not wake. Sooner or later they would encounter ha'taren, of that Mephistis was certain. The other pair had been instructed to avoid the ha'taren, to flee rather than fight. Only Mephistis and his companion, Bodramet, had sufficient power to guarantee victory over a ha'taren not taken by surprise. He would not needlessly risk his sa'necari this early in the final game. Solstice was still a few weeks off and he would need all of them then.
They reached the innermost circle of tents unopposed and unnoticed. Several wynderjyns stirred uneasily as they passed behind them, sensing something but as yet uncertain of its nature, for Mephistis' power cloaked Bodramet and himself almost entirely from their keen senses. He had left nothing to chance, scrying the camp on its march to be certain of which tent housed Aejys. He found the tent easily, slicing the back open with his blade.
Aejys slept in a fog of alcohol. His hands closed on her throat. She woke at his touch with a cry of alarm, twisting and reaching for her sword, which leaned against the head of the cot. Mephistis' hand became talons and he ripped open the half healed wound in her shoulder. Aejys screamed, loosing her sword to the pain. Mephistis struck her hard in the face, sending her spinning into darkness. He dragged her out the back where he and Bodramet took her arms, rising up and away into the night before anyone in the awakening camp could spot them.
* * * *
"Who cried out?" Geoa Odaren emerged from her tent, buckling on her sword. Several ha'taren were going from tent to tent, checking.
A cry went up from the perimeter. "Sa'necari! Sa'necari over here!"
A ha'taren put a horn to her lips, sounding the alarm. Six drew swords and headed for the perimeter. Another four moved to Geoa Odaren's side to protect their liege lord. Tagalong came at a rolling trot, scanning the growing crowd. "Where's Aejys?" Geoa's gray eyes met Tagalong's and they both knew the answer.
Tagalong bolted for the tent. She saw the blood on the bedclothes and the slit back. A long howl of wordless grief tore from her throat. Geoa Odaren dropped to her knees beside Tagalong, gripping her shoulders and shaking her. "Where have they taken her?"
"Oh gods, oh gods..." Tagalong sobbed brokenly. She had been so certain when they first set out that she could protect Aejys and now her dearest friend was gone.
"Dragonshead. That is where they have gone," Hanadi spoke archly from the tent entrance, Brundarad pressing in around her legs. "It is Margren's citadel according to the documents."
Geoa shot her a sharp, doubting look. "No one's ever found the way into the underground ruins."
"Hmnph! Margren did," Hanadi said with a contemptuous snort. "And Brundarad can." She ran her hands over the wiry hair on Brundarad's head. "Go, Brundarad, find us a way in."
The shadow hound slid around Hanadi to run. Small hands caught at his fur. He paused, looking down into Grymlyken's tear-streaked yet resolute face. "Take me with you," the pixie said.
Brundarad gave an incredulous snort.
"Someone will need to get inside and find her."
Brundarad lowered his haunches and Grymlyken climbed aboard, settling behind his shoulders. The Shadow hound barked, short and sharp.
"Yeah, I'll hold on tight," Grymlyken said grimly.
They bounded off into the night.
* * * *
All of Aejys' units, along with half of Geoa Odaren's, followed Tag and Hanadi, riding hard for Dragonshead, their ouroborus pennon flapping in the breeze. Josh watched them go until they were lost from sight, grief etching the lines in his weather-beaten alcoholic face still deeper and beneath the grief lay a burning anger. He took a swig from his pocket flask which now contained Laurelyanne's brew instead of his usual whiskey, his awareness of the burning sensations in his body faded, but the heat in his heart and soul did not dissipate. Someone had to beard Margren in her den in Castle Rowan and he had chosen that duty for himself. He knew he would recognize her instantly, for he had touched her aura and glimpsed her face when he slammed her against the wall of her unholy sanctum.
Ever since that day when he had begun to open up to Eliahu and Laurelyanne about the terror and anguish of his past, he had also started to feel comfortable with the power. He had always known how to use the power on an instinctual, unconscious level, almost as if he had come into this life fully trained or carried it over from a previous incarnation. Which, he sighed to himself, was probably why it frightened my father so badly. That did not make what his father did right, but it did make it a little easier to accept.
"Josh," Eliahu put his hand on the sailor-mage's arm, pulling him from his musings. "Are you still certain we did the right thing staying behind?" he asked
gently, searching the younger man's face. Of the three mages, only Laurelyanne had gone with Tagalong. And Clemmerick had stayed behind to offer what protection he could to Eliahu and Josh.
"Yes," Josh's voice was soft and a little distant. "I sensed an enchantary gate in Dragonshead a moment before I hit Margren. I think it leads to Castle Rowan. Castle Rowan is closer than Dragonshead. If we can find the gate, we may get there before Margren kills Aejys."
* * * *
Aejys came to herself in the hard grip of two stone trolls, dragging her toward a long, wide table arrayed with various implements of torture. For an instant she thought she was back in Bucharsa and a scream welled to the back of her throat to die unreleased when she remembered Mephistis taking her in the Odaren's camp. The stench of blood and mold rose from the straw rustling around her bare feet. She could feel the aura of death lingering in the dank, gray stone walls of the chamber: many people had died here. She raised her head a fraction, seeing Margren standing by the table to her left, a smile of incredible cruelty on her generous lips. Margren held a heavy mace, stroking the blunt head as if it were a favored pet.
"So glad you are awake, sister," Margren purred. "I wanted you to feel this."
Aejys lifted her head fully, staring straight into her face without speaking. She knew she could not break the stone trolls' grip and she would not play the coward by struggling. They shoved her hands and arms up to the elbow on the table, pinning them there.
Margren lifted the mace. "These hands have long offended me," she purred softer still, then laughed as if she had said something witty. She brought the mace down on Aejys' right hand shattering the bones.
Aejys' face twisted as she fought back another scream, determined not to grant Margren the satisfaction of giving vent to her agony.
