Betrayal

by Lara Morgan

  ‘We go together,’ she repeated. ‘We walked many leagues to find you, son,’ she said. ‘Would you deny our sacrifice?’

  Irissa was coming toward them now, a pack on her back and a look of determination on her face as she held a spear in an almost threatening grip.

  Tallis looked helplessly at Rorc. It would delay them more to argue. His father’s face was filled with annoyance and frustration.

  ‘You have become even more stubborn, woman,’ he said, and Mailun lifted her chin.

  ‘Is that a yes?’ Something flickered in Rorc’s gaze and with surprise Tallis saw it might be a flash of affection.

  ‘Fine,’ he said as Irissa reached them, her face fierce. ‘But you do as I say, when I say.’

  ‘Of course. When have I not?’ Mailun said.

  Rorc exhaled. ‘You ride with me,’ he said, ‘Irissa with Tallis. Come.’

  Tallis saw the triumph in Mailun’s eyes, but she did not smile as she walked past him and followed Rorc toward the waiting serpents. Irissa stood waiting for him and he felt a sudden curl of anticipation in the pit of his stomach.

  ‘Come on,’ he said.

  As she climbed up to sit behind him on Marathin he had to concentrate hard not to notice the feel of her hands on his waist and her leg brushing his own. She didn’t say anything but his awareness of her was acute.

  Fly! he commanded Marathin and Rorc’s serpent Fen, with more force than was necessary, and felt a shiver of what could have been laughter from the serpent as she launched into the air.

  Chapter 45

  Balkis paused outside the door of the roughly constructed hut, delaying the moment before he went in. He did not like what he had to do, but there was no choice. The scout had failed to return and they could not send another; this was now their only option.

  ‘Captive’s ready, sir,’ Lilith said. She stood calmly behind him.

  ‘You don’t have to be part of this,’ he said.

  ‘They’re not human, Marshall; I have no problem with it.’ Her look was hard, steadfast.

  She was right, Scanorians weren’t, and others of its kind had slaughtered his own; it should not expect mercy. Should it? He took a breath and went in.

  It was a male and when standing would have reached Balkis’s chest. Tall for a Scanorian. But now it knelt, head bowed, on the dirt floor of the hut, its arms bound behind it, a Seducer standing watch. A long wound across its shoulder dripped blood onto the ground and there were other cuts on its thighs, bared by its short trousers. It had no other clothing apart from a hardened leather vest, which had already been removed. Its dark skin was tough, black as deep soil, and there was very little hair on its head. Its hands and feet were webbed, its ears large and its chest powerful, the limbs appearing scrawny in comparison, although Balkis knew that could be deceptive.

  Balkis positioned himself in front of it. ‘Stand up,’ he said.

  It stared at him with a measure of contempt at odds with its predicament. ‘Why? You prefer us on our knees, don’t you?’

  Balkis kept his expression still. ‘If you answer my questions you may live. Refuse and there will be pain.’

  ‘There is always pain.’ It narrowed its eyes. ‘Pain of the body, pain of the Loss.’

  The Loss? Balkis frowned and slowly drew his sword.

  ‘Stand,’ he repeated, but it only looked at him. Balkis nodded to the Seducer and the man put a hand on the Scanorian’s narrow neck and dragged it to his feet, holding it upright.

  ‘Your mind beast can’t hurt me,’ the Scanorian choked out.

  ‘No,’ Balkis agreed, ‘but I can. Tell me where Azoth is. Tell me how soon he will be here and the size of his army and you will live.’

  The Scanorian laughed. ‘You can’t take away what never was.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Balkis put the tip of his sword on its throat but it didn’t flinch.

  ‘It is Azoth who will bring us life — you humans only ever bring death!’

  Hatred blazed from its eyes, a furious loathing teamed with a fierce defiance Balkis had never seen in a Scanorian before. It made him curious.

  ‘Do you have a name?’ Balkis said.

  The Scanorian grinned. ‘Not for you,’ he said, spitting on Balkis’s feet, ‘honourless scum!’

  Balkis looked at the spittle on his boot, then slowly and deliberately he moved his sword to the gash on the Scanorian’s shoulder and poked in the steel. It screamed, a low, gravelly cry filled with rage and pain. ‘Honourless!’ it shrieked.

  ‘Tell me how close the army is,’ Balkis said over its howls, twisting the sword.

  Tears of agony ran down the Scanorian’s face as it flung its head back and roared, struggling in the Seducer’s grip, but did not answer.

  Balkis pulled out the sword, sickened by his own actions. Blood marked the blade, dark and thick. He lowered the tip so it was level with its chest.

  ‘Why do you call us honourless?’ he said.

  The Scanorian’s face was a twisted rictus of pain but it grinned and said, ‘Because of the Loss. You are nothing but thieves and he will judge you and make you pay.’

  It paused, its eyes dark, calmer now. ‘Now you will suffer your own loss.’ Without warning it suddenly threw itself forward, out of the Seducer’s grip and onto Balkis’s sword. The blade vibrated in his hand as he felt it pierce bone and muscle. The Scanorian’s mouth stretched in an agonised grin, then its eyes became vacant and it fell to the ground, pulling the sword from his hands.

  For a moment no one moved.

  ‘Well, one less now to kill,’ Lilith said.

  Balkis stepped forward and retrieved his sword, pulling it out of the body. He felt strange doing it, regretting the death, disturbed by the creature’s words. When he looked up the Seducer was watching him.

  ‘Unexpected,’ he said. He was older than Balkis, his short dark hair streaked with grey, his expression still.

  ‘The Loss,’ Balkis said, ‘have you heard of that before?’

  The Seducer shook his head and Balkis saw the same disturbance in his gaze. What did it mean? They knew so little about the Scanorians — perhaps they should have paid more attention.

  ‘Who cares what it meant,’ Lilith said. ‘At least it saved us the trouble of killing it.’

  Her expression was hard and sour as she pushed at the body with the toe of her boot. Balkis felt the sudden need for fresh air.

  ‘Get rid of it,’ he said, and turned for the door. ‘And don’t bother with any of the other captives. We’ll get nothing from them.’

  ‘What shall we do with them, then?’ Lilith said. ‘Kill them?’

  Balkis put his hand on the door. ‘No. Not yet.’ He pushed it open and left the hut.

  For the rest of the day, the Scanorian’s words followed him. He cleaned his sword and went to find Fardo to see if he’d heard anything from the scout they’d sent. It was a faint hope now, though still a hope, but there had been no sign — and he could not get the creature’s last words out of his head. The Loss. What did it mean? Was it important? Unable to settle he climbed the scarp to see Attar in the late afternoon.

  The day was clear and hot, cloudless, and he was sweating hard as he topped the steep path and walked across the dusty ground to the meagre shelter of the lookout. Attar was seated on a plank laid over two stones, drinking a cup of kaf. Below in the camp a crowd of fighters trained in the open space, a larger group now due to the thirty youths and young men who had turned up the day before, many from Salmut, but some from the smaller villages as well. It was the second group in as many days and they’d brought with them news of the Free Lands war, heaping curses on General Amandine’s head as they told Balkis of the army camped at Merchants Pass and the rumoured invasion of the Free Lands that was about to start.

  ‘Kaf?’ Attar offered a cup as Balkis ducked in under the low roof and sat next to him on the board.

  Balkis shook his head and stared down at the camp.

  ‘A few with skills,�
� Attar said, ‘some too eager for death before they know what it is.’

  ‘Any sign of the scout?’ Balkis asked.

  ‘You’re the first who would know if there was.’ Attar gave him a curious look. ‘Why have you really come up here? Getting away from the rabble?’ He grinned.

  Balkis leaned his forearms on his thighs. ‘Something like that.’ He paused. ‘Attar, how long have you been a rider?’

  ‘Too long,’ the older man coughed a laugh, ‘twenty-odd years or more. I don’t like to count; makes me realise why my knees hurt.’

  Balkis almost smiled. ‘Have you ever heard of the Loss?’

  ‘Scanorians talking, are they?’

  ‘One in particular.’

  Attar threw the dregs of his kaf to the ground. ‘The Loss is something I’ve heard more than one of them mention, almost like it’s a mantra to them, a belief.’

  ‘Do you know what it means?’

  ‘Not really. They’re like the Clans sometimes — keep to their own, don’t like us much.’

  ‘At all, I think,’ Balkis said.

  ‘You could say that.’ Attar laughed briefly then put down his cup. ‘I think the Loss is part of their history, something that happened to them that they think we did.’

  ‘What? They’ve caused us more trouble than we have them,’ Balkis said. ‘They raid the orchards in the Plethnor Valley, steal muthu, attack isolated farmhouses.’

  Attar nodded. ‘They do.’ But there was a note in his voice that made Balkis wonder.

  ‘What is it?’ he said.

  ‘Maybe nothing, who knows. But sometimes I’ve heard that Scanorians used to live in other places than the caves and mountains, closer to the rivers and oceans. Maybe when Amora settled the city and brought everyone here from the Wild Lands, it was not as peaceful as we have been led to believe.’

  Balkis frowned. ‘There is nothing in our histories of any conflict with Scanorians back then, nothing to even suggest they lived anywhere else but where they do now. All the trouble started when we began to farm the Plethnor Valley.’

  ‘Well,’ Attar half smiled, ‘men don’t always admit to things they might have done that they shouldn’t have. Tarnish the image, so to speak. Didn’t you ever wonder why they have webbed feet?’

  Balkis stared back at the camp. It wasn’t something he’d ever thought about before; Scanorians just were.

  ‘Good swimmers too,’ Attar said. ‘Saw one dive into the river near Voss once. Never seen anything but a fish swim that fast, or stay under that long. Never found him.’

  Balkis watched the Faithful going through their complicated training below without really seeing them. Had the Scanorians once lived where their towns now were?

  Attar had left the shelter and was surveying the surrounding area when he called out, ‘Look there!’

  Balkis quickly got to his feet and followed the rider out. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Serpents coming.’ Attar pointed and Balkis saw the dark shape of two winged beasts coming their way.

  ‘From the Clans,’ Balkis said. ‘It can’t be Azoth.’

  ‘I’ll lay odds it’s Tallis,’ Attar said.

  ‘There’re four riders,’ Balkis replied, shading his eyes. ‘Is that Shaan with him?’

  ‘We’ll find out soon enough.’ Attar clapped him on the arm as two of their own rose into the air from a gully to his right and began flapping lazily toward the oncoming riders.

  ***

  They landed in a swirl of red dust, scattering stones across the flat top of the scarp. The serpents that had flown out to meet them wheeled in the air, shrieked then dove down to land on the leeward side of the escarpment. Tallis felt their excitement as he dropped to the ground to greet Balkis and Attar.

  ‘Clansman!’ Attar gripped his forearm and slapped him on the shoulder, grinning.

  ‘Attar,’ Tallis returned his greeting. It lifted his spirits to see the older man.

  ‘Commander.’ Attar nodded at Rorc as he climbed off Fen and came toward them, followed by Mailun. Irissa stood behind Tallis, unsmiling.

  ‘Good to see you, Attar,’ Rorc said, then his gaze went to Balkis. ‘Marshall.’

  ‘Commander,’ Balkis said. ‘Tallis.’ His eyes flickered to him and Tallis saw he was wondering where Shaan was. His mother and Irissa greeted the men as Balkis looked back at Rorc.

  ‘Does this mean the Clans are not far behind?’ he asked.

  ‘Some of them. Two or more likely three days,’ Rorc said. ‘As long as they stay off each other’s throats.’

  ‘Trouble?’ Attar said.

  ‘Old habits die hard.’

  ‘And the rest?’ Balkis said.

  ‘Four days at most.’

  Balkis nodded but he didn’t look happy at the news. ‘I only hope we have that long,’ he said. ‘The scout I sent hasn’t returned.’

  ‘On a serpent?’ Tallis said.

  ‘No. I sent the man on a muthu; we don’t have the serpents to spare — or to lose. If it ran into one of Azoth’s serpents we may not see it again. Not long after we arrived we were forced into an attack on the village of Split. Two Alhanti and a lot of Scanorians. I sent you a message bird.’

  ‘It didn’t arrive.’ Rorc frowned. ‘The villagers?’

  Balkis shook his head. ‘No survivors.’ He looked at Tallis. ‘Where’s Shaan — is she still with the Clans?’

  Tallis hesitated. Balkis had changed since he’d last seen him; he looked harder, older, and he wasn’t sure how he would take the news about where Shaan had gone. Or his letting her go.

  ‘She’s not with the Clans,’ he said.

  ‘Why not? Is she hurt?’

  ‘No —’

  ‘Then where is she?’

  ‘She’s with Azoth,’ Rorc said quietly, and as Balkis turned his fierce blue stare on him Tallis said quickly, ‘But there are reasons, Balkis.’

  ‘Has he taken her again?’ His tone was accusatory, hostile. ‘You were supposed to watch over her!’

  Tallis felt the heat of his power shift inside in reaction. ‘I have been, but some things are beyond my control.’

  ‘How? You are supposed to be the stronger one. I saw what you did to that man in Salmut.’

  ‘There was no choice,’ Tallis said. ‘The Guides spoke to her in the desert. They sent her there to help us.’

  ‘Help us?’ Balkis’s face was dark with anger. ‘How does that help us?’

  ‘Enough!’ Rorc raised his voice. ‘Balkis, none of us like that she is gone, but we have a larger threat to worry about.’

  ‘You don’t like it?’ His look was incredulous. ‘She is your daughter. She could be —’

  ‘She’s not.’ Tallis stepped forward swiftly, knowing his thoughts. ‘She’s alive, Balkis. I would know it if she wasn’t.’

  The blond rider turned to him, anger warring with fear in his eyes, and Tallis saw then just how much he cared for his sister. ‘I would know, Balkis,’ he said again. ‘Azoth won’t harm her.’

  ‘You don’t know, you only hope,’ Balkis said. ‘Tell me, did she go willingly?’

  Tallis paused. He didn’t want to answer that. ‘She did what she thought she had to do,’ he said.

  Balkis gave a bitter laugh. ‘I see,’ he said through gritted teeth.

  ‘Attar —’ Rorc turned to the older rider, who had stood silent during the altercation, ‘— show me where we can get a drink and wash this dust off.’

  ‘Sir.’ Attar motioned toward the steep path that led down to the camp.

  ‘Both of you, come,’ Rorc threw over his shoulder as he followed the rider. ‘We have much to discuss.’

  Tallis picked up his pack and followed Rorc to the camp.

  Mailun and Irissa went to find themselves a place to pitch their tent and Tallis spent the rest of the day sitting under the shade of Balkis’s command post going over the number of fighters they had at the scarp, and hearing about the fight Balkis had faced with the Alhanti and Scanorians at the nearby vill
age. There was no more talk of Shaan or where she was, but Tallis felt the weight of Balkis’s anger lying heavy in the air all around them as he discussed what had gone on since they’d arrived at the scarp.

  The attack on Split sounded like the one Tallis had seen at Hilltown. It seemed too much like Azoth was staging a test for him. When he mentioned it Balkis was quick to agree.

  ‘That’s what I thought,’ he said, his gaze cool. ‘But in Hilltown they took captives; here it was hard to tell. There were so many bodies, but it did seem there were not as many men as you would expect in a town of that size — not men younger than fifty years, anyway.’

  ‘They took the fittest for fighting,’ Rorc said. ‘Probably before you arrived.’

  Balkis agreed. ‘We didn’t have an opportunity to see if any were being herded away.’

  ‘So Azoth sent the Alhanti and Scanorians to the village to get more men for his army and to see what we would do when fighting them.’

  ‘He must know you are here, then,’ Rorc said.

  Balkis nodded. ‘We need our scout to return.’

  ‘We’ll send someone to find him,’ Tallis said. ‘We need to know what’s out there.’

  They finished their talks as the sun dropped, and Attar showed Tallis to a space near the compound’s crumbling wall where he could bed down for the night.

  ‘You’re worried for your sister?’ Attar leaned against the trunk of a tree, watching him lay out a thin strip of hide to sleep on.

  ‘Wouldn’t you be?’ Tallis said.

  ‘I think I told you once before, I have no brothers or sisters. I’m a lone rider, clansman; you know that.’ Attar grinned.

  ‘But you treat those you ride with as your brothers and sisters,’ Tallis said, tossing his pack down on the hide, ‘so don’t pretend you don’t understand.’

  Attar only grinned wider. ‘I’ve missed you, clansman. Few are as blunt with me as you.’

  ‘Perhaps it’s because you like to challenge them to arm-wrestling competitions that often wound them,’ Tallis said.

  ‘Perhaps,’ he chuckled. ‘Will you go after that scout?’

  ‘I think I’m the best choice, don’t you?’

  ‘Well, you make sure you don’t get my serpent killed, then. She is still mine, you know.’ He leaned over and poked him in the chest. ‘You’re just a flirtation — she’ll get over you soon enough.’