Soul's Reckoning bw-3

by Sam Bowring

  I don’t care. It’s what I was born for. If I enjoy it, so what? Better than railing against one’s fate.

  He wondered how Losara felt about it. If his counterpart filled the gaps in him, and vice versa, then Losara would not share Bel’s excitement at the prospect of battle.

  Mindless , thought Bel. Automatic, he must be. Brainwashed. And yet he has the gumption to accuse me of fighting for the wrong reasons, just because I did not fancy a crystal tree or two.

  Did he hate the man? How could he, when Losara was a part of him? If their souls combined, would that mean he’d hate himself? No, he decided, he did not hate Losara. The man was too slight, too fey for hate. But that did not change the fact that Bel would enjoy defeating him.

  He drew his sword again and stuck it in the ground, then sank down cross-legged beside it. He did not like being alone with his peculiar and troubling thoughts. ‘Arkus speed you, shadow,’ he muttered. ‘Deliver me from boredom.’

  He checked inside his pack for the sundart statue, which cheeped softly as he moved it. Relieved at the distraction, he pulled it out and touched a finger to the scroll at its leg. Steam hissed out of its beak.

  ‘Bel,’ came Fahren’s voice from the air. There was a pause, as if that was all, and Bel wondered for a moment if the message had been lost somehow. Then Fahren continued.

  ‘I have spoken with Arkus. There is an idea about how to deal with the shadowmander, but …well, let me investigate further. I am not sure how to accomplish it, or even if it’s possible.’ The man sounded decidedly disquited. ‘In the meantime I thought you should know that our suspicions were correct – the creature is indeed created from legacy magic. That was why Losara took Holdwith, to force our mages to aid him in its building. How he did it I’m not sure, and I don’t really want to know either …in fact, I’ll be quite happy if he takes his unnatural methods to the grave …ah, well, you know what I mean.’

  Bel did not think he had ever heard Fahren sound so frayed. Was it really so affecting, to discover that a great and terrible Shadowdreamer would do such great and terrible things? Or was it the solution that unsettled him?

  ‘This explains,’ Fahren went on, ‘why the creature’s movement is so restricted. It is tied to the First Slave Tyrellan, built upon the original legacy cast on him by Elessa Lanclara. Therefore the mander can only travel a certain distance from the goblin.’

  That was interesting. Although Bel had guessed that the mander was somehow confined, he had imagined its limits were dictated somehow by Losara.

  ‘I shall inform you when I know more,’ said Fahren. The steam dispersed and that was that – none of the usual good-lucks or stay-safes that usually ended the Throne’s messages. Bel replaced the bird in his pack, wondering what had affected Fahren so.

  He tried to occupy himself by thinking about Jaya. If she’d been there with him, the time would certainly pass more swiftly. They could have walked down to the river, retired to the shade of a tree, made love and had an argument or three, in no particular order …and yet she was out of reach. He missed her for the first time since parting ways – perhaps he would have done so sooner, but there had been plenty to occupy his mind since then. Despite his immediate desires, he was glad she would not be here when the shadow army arrived – he was free without her, not having to worry for her safety. Free to swing with reckless abandon.

  Maybe an advance Graka patrol will spot me , he thought. Come in for a closer look.

  The next best thing to Jaya might have been Hiza and M’Meska, but they too were out of reach, even further away than she was – probably still in Dennali, many leagues away. They would probably miss the battle entirely, unless it happened a lot later than Bel hoped.

  He laid back with a shirt over his eyes and tried to rest. As he drifted into half-consciousness, he dreamed himself in the midst of goblins, fighting with Corlas by his side, united against their common foe. This was how it should have been, except Naphur had banished his father for no good reason …yet now they laughed as they culled the enemy, and he saw mirrored in Corlas’s eyes that frenzied joy that grew in him exponentially with each defeated foe. There was a sense of belonging and kinship, a sense of sameness.

  As Querrus’s voice roused him from slumber the feeling passed, and Bel experienced a moment of great loss. He opened his eyes to find the mage nearby, pulling packs from Taritha.

  ‘Slain by idleness,’ the mage observed.

  Bel forced a smile. ‘Not much to do around here,’ he said, ‘except wait.’

  ‘And eat,’ added Querrus, opening a pack to show off a collection of greens and cuts of meat. ‘I also bought us some cover.’

  Bel rose and checked his horizons. The shadow was definitely closer now, a great black line in the distance – and thankfully, the flashing armour he had hoped to see was now also visible to the east.

  ‘Your horse wanders,’ said Querrus, gesturing at the mare, who was now away towards the river.

  ‘I have no need of her,’ said Bel. ‘Let her go free.’

  ‘If that is your intention,’ said Querrus, ‘it would be best to rid her first of tack and saddle.’ He waggled his fingers, and in the distance the horse gave a startled whinny as all her bindings fell away. Bel frowned – why hadn’t he thought of that?

  ‘Well,’ said Querrus, ‘I guess there’s nothing left but to enjoy the ebbing calm before the storm.’

  Bel set to work erecting four poles and stretching a canvas between them, while Querrus collected wood for a fire. As dusk fell they cooked meat and chewed on vegetables. It was the best meal Bel had enjoyed in some time. The mage had also brought them bedrolls, quite large and comfortably impractical if they’d had any great way to travel. Despite what awaited the next day, Bel soon found himself drifting off.

  •

  ‘I surely hope, Blade Bel,’ said Querrus, running a hand over his bald scalp, ‘that you know what you are doing.’

  ‘Just stay behind me,’ said Bel, ‘at all times.’

  ‘Oh yes, I intend to. Getting quite used to the view from back here, whether there be a horse underneath us or no.’

  Bel did not reply, but stood with hands knuckled on hips, exuding a patience he did not feel. Before them, in the morning light, the shadow horde advanced. It was close enough now for Bel to make out individual soldiers …and there was order in the ranks, not the screaming unruly mass he had always pictured. Men and goblins marched side by side, whereas Vorthargs seemed more cloistered in groups, and on either flank were Graka and Mire Pixies who could take off at any moment. Groups of black-robed mages patrolled the outer edges, some on horses and others not, no doubt constantly scanning the land around. What did they make of the lone pair of Kainordans awaiting them on the field ahead, unmoving in the face of such oncoming force?

  ‘Do you see the mander?’ said Bel.

  ‘No,’ replied Querrus nervously, but even as he said so, it appeared running up the eastern flank, skipping almost gaily past rows of troops, as if this was all a wonderful romp. Then it tore into the field ahead, and there was no mistaking it had spotted them.

  ‘Bel …’ said Querrus.

  ‘Stand fast,’ said Bel. ‘It won’t make it this far.’

  About a hundred paces away, the creature halted abruptly. It arched its back as if to leap, but instead opened its mouth to hiss hatefully.

  ‘The leash does not stretch,’ said Bel. ‘Nor will it.’

  ‘The shadow still comes,’ warned Querrus. There was fear in his voice – not unfounded, Bel supposed.

  ‘Steady,’ said Bel. ‘No doubt it takes a moment or two to rein in an army of such size.’

  Shouts began to sound, and although Bel could not exactly hear the words, he knew their timbre. The shadow began to grind to a stop.

  I will it , he thought, and so it is.

  The shadowmander edged forward a little more.

  ‘Does Tyrellan stir?’ said Bel. ‘Does he seek to move to the front of the queue? Let us d
eny him that.’

  He stalked forward suddenly, not bothering to check that Querrus came with him, heading directly for the mander. He moved with confidence, almost able to feel the way his blue hair must be shining in the light. Let them look upon him, these invaders, let them see who it was they faced – let them quiver in fear, and melt into a black puddle.

  The mander stopped again and clawed at the ground, as if it might dig its way under the invisible barrier that hindered it. Had Tyrellan been given an order to stay in place, just as Bel had decided he would?

  Control.

  He stopped some fifty paces from the creature, and once again took up his bold stance. Jeering rose from the shadow.

  ‘Oh yes?’ bellowed Bel. ‘Come over here and repeat yourselves, you rabbit-hearts, you crawling worms!’ The concentrated focus of so many eyes sent shivers through him – not of fear, but electric and wild. He felt tightly coiled inside his body, ready to spring.

  ‘It is well that I’m here to witness this heedlessness,’ said Querrus. ‘If we survive it, someone should tell this story.’

  Bel smiled fiercely. ‘Wait to see how it ends.’

  He reached into his shirt and lifted the Stone up over his head, then looped the chain around his wrist.

  ‘Any moment now,’ he said.

  Shadows wavered up from the grass, winding around each other to take form.

  ‘Well,’ said Bel. ‘Fancy seeing you here, Losara.’

  Losara stared at him as if confused by his presence. ‘You know,’ he said eventually, ‘I feared something like this. But I did not think you would come alone.’

  ‘I did not come alone,’ said Bel. ‘I have my friend Querrus here. He’s a bit leery of your presence, but I’ve assured him that while I hold this,’ he raised the Stone, ‘there is nothing you can fling at us.’

  Losara sighed and gestured to the east, where the Kainordan army marched. ‘I meant,’ he said, ‘that I thought you’d come with them.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Bel brightly, ‘but then you would have reached Jeddies first, and I did not wish another town to fall. Considering that you’re going to lose anyway, it seemed rather needless.’

  Losara gave an odd little smile at that. ‘So,’ he said, ‘perhaps you would have excelled at Battu’s lessons on taunting.’ He began to pace, emulating the mander behind him as it ran back and forth, trying to discover a way through its trap. ‘Tell me,’ he said, ‘have you ever wondered what life would be like if I had been the baby to go to the Open Halls, and you had been stashed away in Skygrip Castle?’

  Bel felt his sense of control slip a notch with the unexpected question. He was not in the mood to delve into deep thought. He was here to act, not to think.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘And I see little point in such conjecture. Another dearth in you, Losara – spending your time in fantasies, failing to address the here and now.’ He shook the Stone at his other , who regarded it with some apprehension. ‘It won’t matter who was brought up where, when we are one again.’

  Losara nodded. ‘I’m sure you’re right. As for the moment, I wonder if you would be so good as to stand aside while my army passes?’

  Bel laughed. ‘What makes you think I’m inclined to such kindness? We both know you cannot sic your ill-gotten creature on me.’

  Losara’s eyes flickered to Querrus, doing his best to stand in Bel’s shadow. He raised a questioning eyebrow at Bel, which Bel ignored.

  ‘And,’ Bel continued, ‘you can cast no spells to boot me out of the way.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ said Losara. ‘But there are always indirect ways.’

  He flicked his fingers at the ground, and a rent appeared, ripping towards Bel. Bel dropped to one knee, dangling the Stone in the path of the crack and, just before it reached him, it crumbled to a stop.

  Losara nodded. ‘What about wind, then, I wonder? Cast the magic up there,’ he raised a hand to the sky above, ‘away from the Stone, but send the result down here.’

  Even as he spoke, a gust sprang up. It quickly grew in strength, whipping Bel’s hair like the grasses beneath, and Querrus dropped to a huddle behind him. The air became like a wall pressing against him, yet he stood firm, his vision blurring as all liquid was blasted from his eyes.

  ‘Losara,’ he shouted, ‘it will have to be a fast wind indeed to lift me from my feet!’

  ‘As you wish,’ called Losara.

  The wind howled stronger, and the Stone thrashed about in Bel’s grip, bruising his knuckles as it thwacked against them. A cheer rose from the shadow army.

  ‘Querrus?’ called Bel.

  The mage, who was holding Bel’s legs, removed a hand to gesture. He conjured a bubble of stillness, and the wind divided suddenly around them. Losara dropped his hand in frustration, and the wind died abruptly.

  Bel smoothed tousled blue strands back from his forehead. ‘A good reason to have a mage around,’ he said. ‘Querrus tells me that indirect magic is about the easiest there is to defend against. And he doesn’t need to worry about watching his own back because I,’ he dangled the Stone, ‘have it covered.’ He glanced away towards the river. ‘What else could you do? Maybe hurl some trees, or bring the river gushing? Or …well, I’m out of ideas, but I imagine you’ll come up with something, Losara.’

  His gaze intensified on his counterpart, who quickly wiped the look of consternation off his face.

  ‘I can’t think of anything right now,’ Losara said, and folded his arms. ‘Bold moves, Bel.’

  Bel tapped his head. ‘Born to do great things.’

  Losara drummed his fingers on his elbow. ‘But what’s to stop me,’ he said, ‘sending a battalion of soldiers at you? Even,’ again he eyed Querrus, ‘just to shift you?’

  ‘Nothing,’ said Bel, and rested a hand on his sword hilt. ‘Please hurry and do so.’

  ‘I know you are a great warrior, Bel, but surely you do not think you can stand against the totality of Fenvarrow?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Bel, ‘I’ve never tried it. However, I would warn the Shadowdreamer that, amongst so many swords, sometimes people get hurt. Even people we may just be trying to shift . You cannot guarantee the course of every blade.’

  ‘The thought has not escaped me,’ said Losara. ‘Perhaps I will merely send them heavily armoured, without weaponry, in waves – enough to pin you to the ground and drag you away?’

  ‘Send your folk disarmed against the blue-haired man?’ said Bel, letting false amazement creep into his voice. ‘You must command soldiers with strong spirits indeed, Losara! My congratulations on garnering such unquestioning loyalty.’

  ‘Has it occurred to you,’ Losara said quietly, ‘that if a certain fact became widely known, it would place us both in peril?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Yet you stand here with a mage, meaning by rights he is not as dense as cobblestones, tiptoeing around the truth so heavily you leave its outline clear?’

  ‘He already knows,’ said Bel. ‘How else could I convince him to stand here with me? But as you say, Losara, he isn’t stupid – he will not turn against me just to get to you, be assured. That would be but a short-term solution, and you want to see the shadow defeated for good, isn’t that right, Querrus?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Querrus, eyeing Losara warily over Bel’s shoulder.

  ‘Risky,’ said Losara. ‘I hope you are not so open with everyone you meet.’

  ‘Necessity dictated in this circumstance,’ said Bel.

  ‘Meanwhile,’ countered Losara, ‘you leave me no choice but to return to my people, who do not know our little secret, and will therefore wonder why I haven’t killed you. Why do I tolerate you standing here in plain sight, why do I order them to cease their advance, why don’t I send forth the shadowmander to tear you apart? Do you not think it dangerous for both of us if I have to tell them why?’

  Bel shrugged. ‘Not my army,’ he said. ‘Not my problem.’

  Losara gave him a reproachful look, then fell
to shadow and disappeared.

  Querrus edged from behind Bel a little. ‘Did that go well?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Bel. ‘Didn’t I tell you to trust me?’

  ‘So what do we do now?’

  ‘We’ll sit and watch this army a while …and stay on the lookout for any sudden moves.’

  A Troublesome Secret

  Losara found himself uncertain about where to appear next. As soon as he did, there would be explanations required, and he was not sure what he could tell anyone. Certainly he did not want his entire army knowing that if they stabbed him in the back, Bel would fall also. It was not that he considered the ranks full of potential traitors, but out of thousands, there were surely one or two who might think that such a move would be the best solution for all.

  And even if he told them exactly why he could not crush Bel where he stood, the news would no doubt soon spread to the enemy. All it would take would be one of his soldiers captured, or one light mage to snare an errant thought, and the secret would be out for both sides.

  As he pooled between the bandy legs of a group of Vorthargs, a shadow mage glanced in his direction. He reminded himself that he was not invisible to everyone, and should not dawdle while his army waited. It was time to be decisive. Making up his mind, he went looking for Tyrellan. The First Slave was in the centre of it all, where Losara had bidden him to remain, thus keeping the shadowmander a safe distance from Bel – though even Tyrellan did not understand that yet.

  Can’t keep being mysterious forever , thought Losara. My second at least should know the reasons for his master’s inactions. Bel is willing to tell people when it suits him.

  Tyrellan, who seemed restless, was receiving a report from one of his subordinates, a goblin called Turen. Lalenda was nearby, conversing with a couple of her race.

  ‘Commander Turen,’ said Losara, appearing so quickly he made the goblin start.

  ‘Yes, my lord?’

  ‘We will make camp, for now. Spread the word. Find Roma, inform him also. Re-position our front line here, where we stand.’

  ‘Er …yes, my lord,’ said Turen, looking uncertain. That uncertainty would be echoed elsewhere, but there was nothing Losara could do about it. For now he would just have to be the Shadowdreamer, obeyed without question.