The swordsmen were now swarming out into the crowd yelling for people to clear out of the way and stand aside ‘or else.’ Given there was a boy no more than six Great Years of age bleeding to death on the ground, what they meant was pretty obvious, but just to make it certain, when one of the swordsmen spotted Ayah’s drawn sword, he charged at her. Ayah slapped his blade aside with her own and then Xian moved forward, her arm a blur as she rammed her fingers into the man’s stomach just below his ribs. The air rushed out of his lungs and he was falling, his sword clattering onto the hard-packed dirt.
The others were busy; Dashi Hashimar and several other Earth Form practitioners were taking on the bandits. The staff-wielding Wood artists were joining in, and with less probability of getting injured trying to fight swordsmen unarmed. The festival had descended into chaos as the crowd tried to scatter from around those fighting; it was likely that everyone in the town knew at least some Earth Form, but that did not mean they wanted to use it in a real fight.
The screams from the direction of the gate were coming closer and the crowd parted in that direction suddenly to reveal the reason for the commotion: three large animals were pushing forward, teeth snapping at anyone who strayed too close, and Ayah’s blood ran cold at the sight of them. They were, at first sight, black-furred wolves, but their eyes glowed a dull red which was not reflected from the torches and their long fangs seemed too large to fit within their snouts. They were spirit creatures. They were…
‘Amaroqs,’ Xian said, her voice flat and angry. There were three more of the creatures behind the ones on point and they seemed to be forming a close guard around a man, tall and thin with a short beard and thinning salt-and-pepper hair. He wore robes of black which looked streaked with grey. ‘And that’s the sorcerer who’s bound them. He’s the one we need rid of.’
The amaroqs were semi-legendary in the Western Plains. Ayah had heard stories of them and little more. It was said that they were most common in the north where the ground was frozen all year round, but even there they were generally solitary. Away from the tundra, they could be found in high mountains or deep forests and were never seen in more than a pair. Yet this man had somehow gathered six of them to do his bidding and that had to be sorcery.
‘What could he want?’ Ayah asked as the wolfen creatures pushed their way closer.
‘The pool. He wants the spirit in the pool and we must stop him.’
‘How?’ But an amaroq had spotted them and it gave out a howl before running at them. Its jaws opened and there were the too-long fangs glinting in the torchlight, but Ayah held her ground, waiting for it to close the distance before she ducked low and slashed at the creature’s nearest foreleg. It let out another howl, this time of pain, and its jaws snapped on empty air, but it was still on its feet. Until Xian rammed two of her fingers into its glowing eye with the same speed and efficiency she had used on the swordsman earlier. There was a sickening squishy-crunch and Xian snapped her arm back as the monster wolf fell at her feet.
‘Striking their eyes is the surest way to kill an amaroq,’ Xian said. ‘Striking that sorcerer is likely the quickest way to rid us of all of them.’
Ayah’s gaze flashed over the scene. Eyes were a difficult thing to target, but a human was a human. The sorcerer was beside the pool now, guarded by his five remaining pets and a few of the bandits. How were they going to get to the man at the centre who, even as Ayah watched, raised his arms toward the square’s pool and began to chant? His words were inaudible over the clamour of the crowd, but the still water of the pool began to shift unnaturally: he was definitely doing something.
Without warning, the water in the pool reared up, a humanoid shape forming out of the liquid. There were no really obvious features save a mouth which was wide open and screaming silently. Or, perhaps, roaring since one of its ‘arms’ – they were more like tentacles to Ayah’s thinking – lashed out, just missing one of the amaroqs.
‘It looks angry,’ Ayah said.
‘It is angry,’ Xian replied. ‘You would be too if someone was trying to bind you into service.’
‘Right.’ Ayah bolted forward, dashing toward the circle of wolf-things and men, and shifting her grip on her sword to a backhanded one. She lowered her shoulder at the last moment as she approached one of the swordsmen and the impact jarred right through her body, but the swordsman was lifted off his feet, driven over by the force of Ayah’s slam. There was an amaroq in the way, but Ayah side-stepped it neatly as it snapped at her, and then she was moving in to where the sorcerer was standing, his eyes closed in concentration and his lips moving quickly as he chanted whatever spell he was employing to bind the spirit.
Ayah jumped and brought the point of her sword down on the sorcerer’s shoulder, just to the right of his neck. The chanting was cut off in a cry of pain, but the old man remained on his feet, turning and glaring at his attacker. Ayah was dimly aware of Xian, now on her right in a fighting stance which showed off a lot of leg as she took down the amaroq Ayah had dodged past. The sorcerer had pulled a knife from somewhere within his robes and Ayah shifted her grip again: she would not get much chance to finish the man before his guards realised where the real danger was. She feinted a slash at his right arm, the one holding his knife, and he went for it, opening his chest up as she shifted up and across and drove her sword in between his ribs.
The old man’s eyes widened and he went still. There was a howl from one of the nearby amaroqs which was quickly taken up by the others. Ayah watched the light bleeding out of the sorcerer’s eyes and her heart lurched. The soldier in the smithy had been alive when she walked out – she could believe that another had finished the man and she had not really killed him. Now she was watching someone die on her sword and she was sure it was her own hand which had done it. Xian was suddenly at her side, legs braced and arms held ready to fend off an attack, but there was also concern on her face.
‘Retreat!’ someone yelled, and Ayah glanced around to see that the wolf-things were doing their best to escape the town and the bandits were pulling back. Ayah had removed the men’s reason for being there and the binding on the amaroqs had gone with the sorcerer, leaving them as wild creatures suddenly surrounded by houses and walls.
But in the pool, the spirit-shape was still thrashing. A tentacle whipped past Ayah’s cheek and she turned, suddenly angry. ‘Hey! I kill the man trying to control you and you want to slap me for it?’ She was a little surprised when the thrashing stopped and what seemed to be the spirit’s face turned to look at her. It rode forward, the water shifting under it until it stood – hovered? – at the edge of the pool, and then it leaned out, looming over Ayah like watery doom. Ayah held her ground. ‘He’s gone. You need to calm down and go back to doing… whatever it is you usually do. Being water? Go back to that.’
Exactly how the water spirit spoke was something Ayah was not going to think about too much, but it spoke. Just a couple of words sounded from somewhere within the humanoid form and Ayah did not understand them, but they seemed… contrite. It seemed as though bowing was a good choice then, so Ayah raised her hands, her right fist still holding her sword as she pressed it to her left palm, and bowed at the waist toward the spirit. It did not return the gesture, but it sank back into the water and, after barely a second, the pool was as still and calm as if nothing had happened.
‘It said thank you,’ Xian said, her voice low. Anything else she might have said was lost in the noise as the people who were still in the square rushed forward and Ayah found herself swallowed up in the celebration of the defeat of the sorcerer.
17th Day, Second Marita.
Ayah had awoken late and with a headache from the amount of alcohol people had bought her. It had seemed rude to decline it and she had been lucky that Xian was there to carry her up to bed. Even if she did not feel at her best, Ayah dressed in her travelling clothes, said her goodbyes to Xian, and set out on the road, walking north and east toward Lake Omash.
Still, she
was feeling the weight of a night of celebration and she set up camp a few tens of paces from the road as soon as the light began to die in the sky. Her shoulder was still aching from barging into the bandit to get to the sorcerer and, now that the alcohol haze was gone, there was still the headache and the knowledge that she had killed someone. A bad someone, yes, but still another human being…
A sharp bark from the other side of the small fire Ayah had made brought her attention back to the outside world, and to the fox which had appeared out of nowhere. ‘Oh, you’re back,’ Ayah said. ‘I suppose you’ll be wanting some food.’ There was another bark, though Ayah was only imagining that it was a vote for food. The vixen was a communicative sort of animal, but still just an animal. Even when it looked up at her in that particular way with those amber eyes…
Ayah frowned. ‘Xian?’
For a second or two, the vixen just sat there, looking up at her with the firelight sparking red flecks in those eyes which looked so much like Xian’s. Then the fox got to her feet and turned, circling around as though slowly chasing her tail. There was an odd blurring and shifting, and the vixen became something akin to red smoke which flowed upward and began to assume the shape of a tall, slim woman. Black hair flowed out from the head which was forming, swirling in a wind that was not real. And then Xian was settling onto the dusty ground, her legs crossed before her and the skirt of her red dress pooling in her lap. The eyes were still the same, however.
‘I admit it was a risk,’ Xian said. ‘Showing you my human form like that. I was still not sure you would work it out, even after the water spirit listened to you.’
‘You’re a fox spirit.’
‘As you say.’
‘That’s why you understood what the spirit in the pool said. Not many can understand the spirit speech.’
‘More humans than you might think, but you’re right, I grew up speaking that language.’ Xian’s lips twitched as she suppressed a grin. ‘Go on, ask it. I know you want to.’
‘What do you want of me?’ Ayah asked, since that was the question on her lips.
‘I find you interesting and I’m inclined to help you with your endeavour to learn the Arts. Is that enough of an answer?’
‘Well, yes. I mean, I suppose it is, but why would a fox spirit find a human interesting? You’re all supposed to be capricious tricksters.’
‘Or evil seducers. I had ample opportunity to seduce you and I did not. I could have led you astray before you realised what I was and I did not. So, I think that leaves the possibility that your folk tales of what spirits are and do might be… not entirely accurate.’
Now Ayah’s lips quirked. ‘Are you saying they’re all made up?’
‘Oh, hardly! Or, yes, they are all made up, but most are based on some reality. Spirits are people, Ayah. Just like human people, we have a general nature, and just like humans, we are all different. Humans have hobbies, so do spirits.’
‘Oh! So I’m a hobby?’
‘Hm, yes. What else would you be? Funny little human girl with such aspirations. I can’t think of a single reason why you’d provoke the interest of anyone.’
Ayah pursed her lips. ‘I can do sarcasm too, you know?’
‘I’m sure you can. Now, food was mentioned. I’m hungry.’
Reaching for her bag, Ayah flashed the spirit-woman a scowl. ‘There was less of you to feed when you were a vixen.’
‘Oh, Ayah,’ Xian replied with a purr in her voice, ‘I still am a vixen. Just a human-shaped one.’
~~~
‘Something has you out of sorts,’ Xian said as she watched Ayah cleaning her sword. ‘What is it?’
Ayah frowned. She had neglected her weapon the night before in the haze of drink and celebration. Celebration. Being thankful for a man’s death. She was having to be more assiduous in her efforts to get the dried blood off the metal now and was wishing she had seen to it earlier, but… ‘I killed a man,’ she said.
‘Huh. You killed a man who made spirits his slaves. I’d have snapped his neck like a dry twig and been happy to take the glory. You did the world a favour.’
‘I don’t even know what he wanted with the spirit.’
‘Money, I’ve no doubt. That spirit was more than just the spirit of a water feature, I think. The people there have forgotten it… Well, they had forgotten it, though I think that little demonstration will have reminded them. For whatever reason, it’s the patron spirit of that miserable little town and no doubt it accounts for at least some of their prosperity. If they pay it more mind, they may become even more prosperous. If the sorcerer controlled it, he could bring the town to ruin. Strip their crops of water. Rid the place of any luck it has. Extortion was, I believe, the name of the game. The bandits would not have followed him without money being a big factor.’
‘Oh. But did he have to die to be rid of him?’
Xian sighed and sort of folded herself inward, her eyes on the fire and her shoulders hunched. ‘You’re asking the wrong person, Ayah. No spirit feels anything good toward those who learn to bind us. When they first learn that Art, they talk to us, make deals and treat us with respect. When, eventually, they are good enough to perform the rituals, few of them are happy with simply summoning a spirit to bargain with. They lose the respect they had and think of us as… a resource to be used and cast aside when our utility has been used up. We kill them when we can, avoid them when we can’t.’
Looking up, the spirit-woman sought out Ayah’s lowered eyes. ‘Would you rather he was free and ready to enslave someone else wherever he might find them?’
Ayah looked up and then quickly away from Xian’s intent, amber gaze. ‘No, but…’
‘You’d rather it was not your hand on the sword? Sometimes, Ayah, we have to do uncomfortable things to make life better for everyone. That you can do such things is not bad. If you come to like the killing, then I’d suspect you of being not the girl I thought you were. I’ll not deny you your discomfort, for it shows that you’re a good person, but think on this if you would: to harm someone who means you or others great harm is not a bad thing. If you can find another way, then you’ll feel better for taking it. But if your compassion to one bad man were to lead to harm for many other innocents, you might never forgive yourself.’
‘I’ll think on it,’ Ayah replied, sheathing her sword and laying it beside her blanket.
‘Good. We go on to Omashi tomorrow? It’s the largest town on the lake and right beside the forest. You should find people to teach you there.’
Ayah nodded and laid her head down to sleep. ‘Omashi. Yes. We’ll go there and see what I can learn.’
Part Three: The Forest and the Trees
Proceeding humbly. Little prosperity and smoothness. Favourable to have somewhere to go. Favourable to see a great person.
– The I Ching.
Omashi Town, 27th Day, Second Marita, 206.
They had to look an odd pair, Ayah thought: the tall, elegant Xian in her glorious scarlet dress walking beside her far shorter companion who was wearing peasant clothes. Odd or not, the guards at the gate – Ayah noticed that they were all dressed in banded mail shirts and carrying staves, and that likely meant Wood Form – paid them no mind as they made their way into the town. And Omashi was much more of a town than Saventi had been.
Omashi’s town wall was built of mortared stone which had to have been mined in the Stonefire Mountains many myls away to the east and through one limb of the forest. It was a dark rock and not easy to work, but it sparkled in the afternoon sun. Once inside, the buildings were largely wooden-framed; fewer of them than in Saventi had any stone to them, but they all looked well-built and a lot of the woodwork had decoration carved into it which gave Ayah even more of a sense that Omashi would be a good place to learn Wood Form: this was a town with a pride in its wood.
‘We’ll need a place to stay while you search,’ Xian said. ‘There’s a market square in the centre of town. Meet me there in an hour and then we’ll s
ee about lodging.’
‘Uh, okay,’ Ayah replied. ‘What are you going to do?’
‘Oh, I’m going to get us some more money.’
Ayah was about to ask what that actually meant when Xian set off into an alley between two buildings and vanished from sight. Shrugging, Ayah set off to see what she could see of Omashi in an hour.
~~~
There were three inns offering rooms around the town’s square – which was roughly a square – along with a number of shops selling clothing, jewellery, and beautifully carved furniture. There was no food, which seemed odd until Ayah found a smaller square on the side of the town facing the lake. There the shops sold food from more distant sources and stalls were laid out selling locally produced vegetables and meats. Fish were quite prominent; Omashi had grown up from a fishing village originally, one of several on the shores of Lake Omash.
The port was, technically, outside the town’s wall, but the wall extended out a hundred paces or so into the lake on either side to shield the sides of the dredged basin. Lake Omash was large enough to have noticeable tides and several small boats were beached near the stone quay which had been built up along what had, perhaps, been a beach at one time. The town’s wall circled behind the quay, though there were several large gates through it here, each big enough to allow a cart through.
It seemed that most of the fishing fleet was out on the lake and the harbour was… boring. So, Ayah set off back toward the town square, wondering exactly how Xian was going to find her.
Apparently, the answer was easily since Xian walked up to her as soon as Ayah set foot in the square. ‘Come,’ Xian said. ‘I’ve arranged a room in a suitable class of inn. The bed is big enough for us both and their food is quite adequate.’
‘Okay,’ Ayah said and followed Xian to the largest of the inns on the square. It had been built of stone and it rose up four storeys in height with a sign above the doors which told anyone passing that it was ‘The Grand Omashi Inn.’ It seemed at least to live up to the grand part for the ceiling of the lobby was vaulted and if there was a taproom like the inn in Saventi, it was hidden away from those entering as guests.
The Iron Princess (The Twilight Empress Book 1) Page 6
