With Enstigorr she’d learned that her own name would be used against her. She gave it to Mannemous without hesitation. After all, it was not her birth name. “Corrie.”
“Ah, I know that name.”
He leaned closer. The firelight revealed the pale green of his eyes, like lichen growing on trees. Recognition jolted through her, but where and wherefore she couldn’t recall.
“And your man out there with your two horses crowding my poor mule?”
“No mule is poor, sir, not when it can kick. The man is Sverr, a Norther,” she added, since some didn’t like the natives of Thulestreigon. Better to have that out rather than waiting for it to surprise. “He claims acquaintance with you. He brought me to you.”
“I do know a Sverr.” He chucked another log onto the fire and pretended to study the flames’ progress over the new wood. Yet Corrie felt his senses extended toward her, trying to read her. “The Sverr I know had a friend with him.”
“Closer than friend. His brother Brom. I have not met Brom myself. He is a prisoner of Enstigorr.”
The bane witch recoiled. “That name I would rather not hear. Five and ten years ago I would not have reckoned that name would ever cross your lips.”
“Five and ten years ago?”
He stepped back from the fire and faced her. The fire illumined him, clearly looking down his nose. “Have you forgotten? You were small, Corrie, scarce eight, years from the onset of your magick. Although it burnt in you strongly enough that your father brought you to me.”
Memory shifted into place. It put his lichen eyes into a younger face.
The door opened. Mannemous turned to face Sverr, who stood on the threshold shaking off snow. “Shut the door, Norther. A little snow won’t ruin the floor.”
He looked up, his eyes glacial in his sober face. The warrior was back, Corrie saw, and her trust in Mannemous dropped several degrees. If Sverr did not bare his whole self to the bane witch, then neither would she. Quickly she reviewed their conversation for anything that could entrap her.
Sverr cast off his blanket ruanna. “Getting acquainted?”
“But of course,” the bane witch agreed with a slickness that masked his own elevated caution. “We are discovering that we have already met.”
“Have you?” He slanted a look at Corrie.
“She may not remember. Her father brought her to me when she was only a child. He wanted a reading of her powers. He was himself a reluctant hill witch. With better training he could have been a wizard.”
The last cut-out piece fit into the memory puzzle. “My father?”
Mannemous looked at her, and the harsh features eased. “Aye, Corrie, your father. Did he not train you himself?”
Surprise released the truth. “He went away with my uncle not long after we returned home from seeing you.”
“And never came back? Then we can only assume he fell victim to the same nefarious wizard dabbling in Dark Moon spells.”
She shuddered.
“Early evil by Enstigorr?” Sverr dropped a hand on Corrie’s shoulder and gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“That is twice that foul wizard’s name has dropped into my home. I do not seek the hearing of it again.”
“And what was the first time?”
“Corrie tells me your brother has run afoul of the Prime.”
“More like handed over as a well-wrapped gift.”
“How is this? Brom was heading for Ornestreigon.”
“And there he went.” Sverr’s voice had flattened, absent of all emotional inflection. “But Ornestreigon has a pact with Hardraste. Instead of finding the amulet you gave very specific directions to, he is now in Enstigorr’s dungeons.”
Mannemous’ head jerked back. Through narrowed eyes he looked down his long nose. “That is a careful choice of words.”
Corrie looked from the bane witch to Sverr. The hand not on her shoulder had landed on his sword hilt. His eyes chilled. She thought they’d come to get Mannemous’ help, but that careful choice of words sounded like a challenge. Surely Sverr did not expect to fight a bane witch with only bared steel?
And the bane witch did not back down from the challenge. “Do you think my ‘very specific directions’ got him captured and turned over to Lord Hardraste’s wizards?”
“All I know is that he ran afoul of the Chancellor-Regent, who somehow managed to imprison a Norther wizard and ship him off to the Prime before I could get there. I do not even know if he found the amulet.”
“Brom would not be easy to capture.” Mannemous rolled his pale green eyes to Corrie. “It would take a strong wizard and spell-binding cords, perhaps worn as an ornament by the kind of pretty face he hungers for.”
She flinched and clapped her hand over the cord wrapped around her left wrist, as if that would hide what he’d already seen.
“Leave Corrie be. She’s as much a victim as Brom is.”
“Or is she a trap for the Norther who assassinated Ornestreigon’s regent?”
Corrie expected the words to further enflame Sverr, but he suddenly laughed and dropped his hand from his sword. “Enough, Mannemous. She’s not the threat. I trapped her into helping free Brom. We’ll just beg roof-cover for the night and be gone in the morning. And if you can spare, we need a few days of supplies, enough till we reach the next village.”
The bane witch studied Sverr, then dropped his critical gaze to her. She met those lichen eyes unflinchingly, trying not to reveal her shock that Sverr hadn’t mentioned Enstigorr’s seal. Only when Mannemous turned away did she glance up at Sverr. Her eyes brimmed with unshed tears, but he shook his head. And she knew they’d be heading to Hardraste with the seal still in her forearm, undermining any plan they could divine to free Brom.
Mannemous rummaged in his stores, then he straightened. Arms akimbo, he focused on Corrie. “I can give you two days of journey bread and some jerk. And I remember your Norther taste for coffee. I’ll give you what I have.”
“We’ll take the journey bread and coffee; we don’t need jerk. I’ve enough for me. Corrie won’t eat it.”
His eyes narrowed. “You do know that’s not the reason she looks hollowed out. She’s got a dark spell poisoning her. You’re on a fool’s mission if you confront Enstigorr with his mark on her. I expected you to mention it. Brom would have. That is the reason you came to me, isn’t it? Or was it just to accuse me of betraying your brother?”
Hope leaped into her throat even as Sverr growled. Growled. She put her hand on his and leaped in before he made it worse. “That is the reason, sir. You must forgive Sverr. His brother’s imprisonment weighs on him.”
“So much so that he trapped you into helping him? He admitted that, lass. A lie’s too late. What did he do? Trap you with that spell-cord you wear like it’s a rich gift?”
The question was nearly a snarl. In his own way, she realized belatedly, he was as furious as Sverr, perhaps even more so, to see someone powered wearing an enslaving chain with seeming pride. “He did trap me—Be still, Sverr, or you’ll make it worse, and we need him. I need him.—But he’s also helped me, as I’ve helped him. As I will help him free Brom from the Prime.”
“A fool’s mission, lass. You will have to venture into the very heart of the fortress, and then you must face the Prime and his four wizards.”
“You think I go blind into this? Trapped by the spell cord?” Corrie allowed herself a little smile and twisted his words back at him. “Lured by Sverr’s pretty face? It would take more than that to send me back into those dungeons. Aye, back into them. The Prime kept me prisoner, Mannemous. He used me for Dark Moon spells.” She thrust out her left arm and raked up the sleeve, revealing the thin white scars of blood-taking and the fingernail marks in her flesh. “His spell poisons me now. I would not wish his evil on anyone. For that reason, I will help Sverr free his brother. You call it a fool’s mission. I must have a foolish heart.”
He came closer. She smelled acrid power, as if he tested her ev
en though she could see no spell. “How long did the Prime have you?”
“Nine weeks.”
“Two Dark Moons. But he would have taken your blood for more than those nights. How long did you fight him before you gave in? How many times did he take blood with your consent as long as he would stop your pain? What did you agree to before he released you? Did you trade the semblance of freedom only if you brought him more witches and wizards?”
His judgment pierced her. Shaking her head, she sprang up then bumped into Sverr. His arm slid around her waist. Corrie clutched it like the rope thrown to a boatman tossed into a turbulent river.
“Enough, Mannemous,” Sverr snapped. “Corrie’s been honest with you. Enstigorr didn’t infect her with that dark spell. His soldiers did when they found her at a tavern. They got a seal on her then tried to get the spell cords on her.”
“She shouldn’t wear them so easily then. She should have them for what they represent.”
“Convenience. They get tangled up in my saddle bags—and we might have needed to use them on you.”
Corrie recognized Sverr’s warped humor, but the bane witch didn’t. His lip curled. “That’s no way to persuade me to help you.”
“That’s what Corrie said, when I first put the cords on her.”
The lichen eyes fastened on her. Again the bane witch studied the wrapped cord and the bared flesh of her arm where the seal hid under the flesh. “Forgive a suspicious old witch, Corrie, daughter of Teigeillin. My long life owes much to caution. Your honesty deserves more than my continued suspicions.” He jerked a thumb at Sverr. “He reveals nothing. He’s as close-mouthed as his brother when first I met Brom.”
“It is not wise to show your hand,” Sverr stuck in. He kept Corrie tucked against him. She wasn’t certain what he had decided to make plain to the bane witch.
Mannemous opened his eyes wide. “I’ll not play cards with you, Norther. I’ll drop all the bones you want.”
“Aye, you would, well knowing I couldn’t read them, and then claim you’d been open with me. Pot and kettle.”
He laughed. “Truth. And pax. We have a common enemy. I cannot help you fight him and his; a bane witch is nothing against a Prime. But I’ll not shirk my duty. I’ll ward you as best I can. The Prime hollows this girl out with poison. I might be able to remove that evil.”
“Hollows me out with poison?” This was the second time he’d said that. “No. Enstigorr tracks me with this seal then sends animals against us. A wolf. Rooks. Gobbers. And a ground-troll.”
“No wizard controls a drogger.”
“You just praised her honesty, Mann. She’s not lying. The ground-troll killed the farmer that offered us shelter. It attacked after the gobbers fell back. We nearly didn’t escape it.”
“You saw it? And the family?”
“Saw it, barely escaped it. And the family’s better off dead. The gobbers bit the boy and the older girl and the mother. That would have not been quick.”
“Painful and slow, and the family soon infected as well. You are lucky to have escaped.”
“Not luck. Hard fighting. Corrie sensed the drogger and had me alert. Family was too far from the door. They’re fools like you, Mannemous. One door only and no windows. And Enstigorr controlled it all.”
The witch’s gaze shifted to the side, as if he saw something in his past. “He is a Prime. A Dark Moon spell powered by rich blood might make it possible.”
“Rich blood? Brom’s blood?”
“And what he has left of Corrie’s, aye. He obviously has some left, or he could not trigger the seal. You are attacked by night then by day?”
“We’ve had a bit of relief the past day and night, but aye, that’s the pattern. We didn’t realize the seal was on her until the second night, when the wolf attacked. When it couldn’t get past her ward, it burned.”
“Wolf and rooks, gobbers and ground-troll. Anything else?”
“A dust snake. Hush,” and he maneuvered Corrie back into the chair. “A vulture. A single gobber then the pack. When the rooks attacked, Corrie managed to get a spell past the cords. She incinerated them.”
“What? Say that again?” Sverr obliged, and Mannemous’ eyes lit up. “Ah, this is indeed Teigellin’s daughter. How did you do it, Corrie?”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t flare your eyes at me, lass. I’m not the enemy. You will need that knowledge if you are to enter Hardraste’s dungeons where the very stones are spelled.”
She shuddered at the memory of those cold cells. The grey stones sucked her very essence, drop by drop, the way Enstigorr had stolen her blood. She clutched the chair seat. “I don’t understand how I did it. We were overwhelmed. The rooks were everywhere. They were all over Sverr. All over me.”
Mannemous knelt where he stood, six feet away. His gaze seemed kind, as if he hadn’t just snapped at her. Firelight flickered over his face, over his wool tunic and embroidered jerkin. Some of the vines seemed to move, twining in different whorls, connecting to different leaves. “Desperate fear is a powerful incentive. Have you tried to work power past the binding when you are not so desperate? Now that you know it is possible, you should try to find the key to fit the lock every time, not just when you are in desperate need.”
She knew that.
“I told her that,” Sverr said.
The bane witch gave scarce a glance at the Norther. “He does occasionally speak wisdom. Norther wizards never lost all that we did in the Souther, in the decimation of the Great Vale. Sverr trained alongside Brom, did he tell you?”
“He said he wasn’t a wizard.”
“I’m not. That’s not a lie. I’m not even good enough to be called a root witch. You know that, Mann. Don’t give her lies she’ll build on. She’s better than Brom ever dreamed of being. Her ward builds higher in the air. She crisped those rooks—and two men at the tavern where we met.”
“That murderous bent would have attracted you.”
Corrie inhaled sharply, but Sverr lifted his lip, a wolfish acknowledgement. “It did. They were heading to kill me. An Ornestreigon troop, and she didn’t hesitate. Fair won my heart. She’s bound to have powers that would peel my eyeballs.”
“Teigellin’s daughter could do no less. More than a wizard.”
“Why do you keep saying that? ‘Teigellin’s daughter.’ You said my father was only a reluctant hill-witch.”
“I said he could have been a wizard with better training. Had he trained you, I doubt you would have wound up with the Prime’s seal on you. I can only assume he fell victim to the Prime’s first dabblings in Dark Moon spells. As you did.” He spoke the three words with hard callousness, and while she cringed from it, he added, “As your poor hair fell victim to the Bonewearer’s favorite spell.”
Sverr clasped the back of her neck. The touch grounded her. “We stray far afield, Mann. Can you remove Enstigorr’s seal?”
“You have great faith in my abilities. I told you and your brother that I am not as powerful as you think.”
“You are a bane witch.”
“Must I teach you, Norther? A witch cannot wield the vast resources that a wizard can, and a Prime who exhausts his own resources can call upon the powers of the wizards he controls.”
Corrie shuddered anew as she pictured Enstigorr in his blood-soaked dungeon. Better that they steal in and spirit Brom out of the cells than that they face the Prime.
Sverr kneaded her tense neck. “You are old in trickery and obscure spells, Mannemous. What you lack in power, you make up for in vast experience and clever treachery.”
The bane witch laughed. “You flatter me.”
“Can you remove the seal?” Hope rekindled, Corrie lifted her gaze to him.
“Gods, her eyes. She is what you think, Sverr. More even than I realized, all those years ago.”
“Can you do it?”
“Excising a seal buried in her flesh—that is difficult. We do not want to trigger its deadliest purpose.” He s
traightened and gave one of his rare smiles. “I will do it—but not on an empty stomach. I missed my breakfast and my nooning, and I am athirst from a full day up a tree. Avoiding strangers becomes harder and harder. I will have to retreat to caves.”
“The passing troop?”
“Not a passing troop, Norther. An intent troop that did a goodly search for me. I feared finding my belongings strewn about—but it appears they touched nothing, just looked in then posted scouts and waited for my return. Here inside my home while I spent hours shivering against a prickly pine and weaving spells of cobwebs and snowflakes, cold ash and musty emptiness. Which they eventually believed.”
“Who was the troop?”
“Fools.”
“Your favorite word. You have no clear idea?”
“I do not. I hid, as befits a mere witch when he senses a wizard heading his way. A badly trained wizard, I grant you, for she should have cast a net to find anyone with power. Had she done so, they would have found me in a thrice, even with my spell of invisibility. She was very young, though. I doubt she expected a feeble old witch to elude her. It gave me great pleasure to burst her arrogance.” He grinned. “You are right, Sverr; vast experience and clever treachery outmatched power. This time. Bring that stool to the fire. Are you content in that chair, lass?”
He knelt. Using the poker to scrape aside coals and ash, he revealed an iron pot with a tightly fitted lid nestled in the rocks. He used the poker to lift it out and pushed it to the corner of the hearth stones.
“At least they had the goodness to rekindle the fire I doused before I hid from them.”
Chapter 11
Corrie couldn’t eat. The root vegetables roasted with bits of squirrel looked appetizing, but her stomach churned in anticipation of what Mannemous might have to do to remove the seal. ‘Excising’, he’d said, which sounded like cutting.
Sverr tried to coax her to eat until the bane witch said, “Let her be. She’ll lose anything in her stomach when I’m working on the seal. She can eat after.”
She definitely couldn’t want to eat then.
More than a Wizard Page 14
