by AS Hamilton
'I apologise. It's not, really, but do you remember those horses at the corral?'
Sariah gave him a doubtful look, but inclined her head.
'I was talking to a man saying I would buy them all, even the lame one?'
Sariah found herself smiling too. 'Yes, he bought them with the mistaken belief that he was stealing an exceptional deal from you. Yes, I can see why you find it amusing. You should be more careful,' she warned, 'now the healer has to ride a lame horse, as if being a slave is not enough.'
'Not necessarily, he is a healer, he probably healed the horse who fakes a limp whenever he thinks somebody might notice. Although it is unlikely the healer's master pays him or his horse that kind of attention. 'The child will be an apprentice,' he added more seriously. 'I will see to this mage and then we will leave,' Brynn told her.
'To the desert to do whatever it is Toormeena asked you to do?'
'Yes, I need to retrieve something. After that we will travel through the Khira.'
'You intend to cross the Khira?'
'We need to get back to Caradon soon. The intelligence I gained from Toormeena is crucial to the rebellion. It is really only a little desert when you think about it,' Brynn pointed out.
Sariah shook her head partly in wonderment, partly in disapproval. His comment was evidence of how young he was, he did not seem to fully appreciate the seriousness of their situation or the dangers of crossing a desert unprepared, even a smaller one like the Khira.
'One of my tutors, Sarre, in fact, taught me to fight my fear with humour,' Brynn said suddenly. 'He said I was young and there would be many times in my life when I would face fearful, nay, terrifying, situations.' Brynn paused and looked down. 'It was just after I experienced my first ambush. The slaughter I witnessed had filled me with such fear I had frozen and almost lost my life. I did not think it was possible, but with the help of Sarre and my father, Sershja and I learned how to do it. Now, we use humour to help us stop the fear from overwhelming us, because Sershja is also very young.' He looked up, meeting Kaydyr's gaze. 'I understand the seriousness of our situation, Sariah. I do not make such decisions lightly. I will deal with the mage.'
The warrior heaved out a sigh. 'Fine, but get on with it.'
Beneath the gruff response, Brynn could hear apology in her tone. He gave her a nod and then shifted his attention to the planes.
Day 7 – Mid-day
Outside Sal-Cirus
(heading towards Anuruna Lake)
Varell wiped the sweat from her face with her shirt sleeve. She was not used to the warmth. Normally they resided in Denas where the cool coastal breezes took the edge off the heat. They were in Sal-Cirus so Dematica could replace Akileena while the other mage attended the Great Lord. It was unlikely they would meet with the well-renown Debanikay mage today, though.
Varell looked at the back of her master. Dematica's posture was straight, but not stiff. She was an experienced rider and Varell appreciated that one of the first things Dematica had taught her was how not to flop about in the saddle. It reminded the young apprentice to attend to her posture and she straightened up.
She had been Dematica's apprentice for five turns. Dematica was not the kindest master, but neither was she the cruellest. After all, Dematica did not have to purchase Varell's mother and add her to the personal staff Dematica was allowed as a part of her agreement with Abbarane. It was true that their assigned chores were laborious and their diet plain, but they were fed and had a sheltered place to sleep. Some elvan, particularly on farms, were chained in the stables or locked up in small kennels at night. Either way, Varell had no choice as to her tutor, and no other way to get training. She had not been born into slavery, and so, understood what it was to be free. When she was first processed after her capture, a mage told her that with her talent potential, she might, if she served well, be placed with a mage. So served she had, devoutly reciting the dogma about the Great Lord until she was deemed suitable for placement.
The young apprentice grimaced, some of the things they said, the lies they told about the rebels, made her feel physically sick and it had not been an easy time for her. She may only be an adolescent, but she understood the callousness of the fate forced upon her family. Her older sisters in harems, her mother a slave, and her twin brother and father murdered. Lord Abbarane would treat her just as harshly no matter how faithful she was. Varell found the thought that one day she might be able to strike at her enemy using the very training they gave her quite motivating.
Dematica's horse changed course. The mage was controlling her horse by mind-will while she tracked the Thane's quarry via the planes. Varell tugged on her horse's reins lightly to guide the drowsy animal in the right direction. The heat made the horses lethargic. Varell swiped at the sweat on her face again. She was starting to feel a little lethargic herself, but it was important she paid attention to what Dematica was doing, observation was a key component of learning how to use talent.
She both admired and disliked her master. Dematica was a mage, and such an achievement deserved respect. Dematica also voluntarily served the Abbaranes. Dematica had taught her how to put up barriers and how to mind-speak on a plane that only advanced human mages could access. It was true, Dematica mainly used mind-speak to order her about, allowing her to fulfil her role as dayan-eir and complete her housekeeping chores. As dayan-eir, her role was more than a general servant, anything Dematica or her guests required her to do, she did, be it sourcing a sixty-turn-old bottle of zilveran, research, or serving afternoon tea. Varell was utterly grateful that Dematica excluded sexual services, as some masters did not, no matter how old the slave was. The apprentice shuddered inwardly as her thoughts went to her sisters who were harem slaves. Their lives must be horrible. The thought made her chest tighten, but then she remembered, Thane Greyson had mentioned that a whole harem had gone missing last evening. Could her sisters have escaped? It was too much to hope for and Varell made herself concentrate on what Dematica was doing, else she might end up sobbing as she imagined what might happen to them if they were caught. Or, indeed, what they were going through if they had not escaped.
Dematica was currently teaching her how to track and how to navigate the astral plane without being detected by human mages. Although this last skill was not strictly what their Lord Abbarane had in mind when allowing the mages to teach. Right now, Dematica was tracking the thief who attacked the smith. Thane Greyson said that he was no simple thief. Some of the soldiers whispered it could even be the elvan Thane Nathan Kennelm was searching for. That elvan was said to be heading to Sal-Cirus. Mayhap he had arrived earlier than expected, and he had robbed the smith before he left so he could afford supplies while he was in hiding. Privately, she hoped they did not catch him. Yet to see him, to see any rebel, would make this trip worth it, even if all she got was a glimpse.
Dematica's horse altered its direction again and Varell could see some greenery up ahead. She hoped it was trees, the shade would be an immense relief. She patted her horse's neck in encouragement and sympathy. She was sure the horse would much prefer to be in the shade too.
Day 7 – Mid-day
Sal-Cirus
Akileena could tell the image his brother presented to him was not quite true to reality, but without breaching Andarin's barriers, he could not confirm it. He had a suspicion that Andarin was still losing weight and not sleeping. Both mages were in their respective rooms, which were actually cells, but the bars were ties of kinship. Malithorn Abbarane had split the pair up because, as Colnba had said, nothing is more dangerous than a Debanikay mage than a pair of them. So while Akileena resided in Sal-Cirus, Andarin lived in Venshui. Though twins, they did not look exactly alike. Where Akileena was slender and pale, Andarin was solid and dark. It was the mix of the Ko-renti bloodline with the Debanikay bloodline. Akileena resembled their father, his hair the same tawny-gold, copper and teal, with an oval face and blue-green eyes. Andarin looked like their mother, with black, copper and gold hair,
sharper facial features, and red and copper flecks in his dark-blue eyes.
They communicated on what they called a 'shadow' plane. This was a plane the may-en-ghi had taught them to access. It meant that mages not trained to access such planes could not trace them here. An elvan plane was out of the question — Colnba, Nisari, or one of their supporters would pin them down in moments of the conversation starting. They were discussing Akileena's summons to Denas.
'How long will you be gone?' Andarin was asking.
Mentally sighing, Akileena said, 'Hopefully only a sennat. Depends on who Malithorn wants killed.'
'Who will watch over Toormeena?'
'Dematica. Which works out well, I can pass on the next payment.'
'Did you get my package?'
Akileena laughed. 'Yes, I really liked your creativeness. You know, I had to spend forty-five minutes convincing Thane Curtin that those windchimes are actually a tool used by mages.'
This caused Andarin to chuckle as he asked, 'And how exactly did you explain windchimes that make no sound?'
'Yes, thanks for that, you could have at least created an illusion of sound.'
'I was in a hurry,' Andarin objected. 'Greyson almost never lets me send anything. Putting the gems in the windchime was an inspiration, they are made of—'
'Rulin, I know, human mages cannot scan it properly. Another risk.'
'They had House of Debanikay markings,' Andarin argued. 'It legitimised my claim that they were an heirloom used by Debanikay mages.'
'Yes, well, that did help,' Akileena conceded. 'I told Thane Curtin they were broken and once repaired would assist me in the scanning activities I do for Colnba.'
'See!' Andarin exclaimed. 'If I had added a sound illusion you would have had to come up with something more unlikely.
After a moment Andarin asked with more seriousness, 'Will the gems cover Dematica's fee?'
'Just,' Akileena growled. 'Remember when she was satisfied with gold coins.'
'Gems are easier to trade in the shadow markets.'
'That does not make me feel better.'
'I was not aiming to cheer you,' Andarin said. 'Just hug Lea-ryn extra-long for me. Tell her, it will not always be this way.'
Andarin could feel Akileena's emotions well up from their place of deep suppression and wash over him. It had been some twenty turns like this. It was understandable that sometimes Akileena could not keep his emotions under control. He sent feelings of comfort to his brother, wishing he could be there in person. His deepest desire was to extricate them all from the cruel and hateful hold of Malithorn Abbarane. 'One day, seeca, one day we will achieve freedom.'
Akileena reigned in his despair and locked it away. 'I know you do not just promise it, Andarin, you believe it. Some days it is…'
'Harder for you. You are the one wretched Abbarane tortures the most. Just keep your focus on seeing Lea-ryn and do not think of the road it takes to put you in her presence.'
The brothers shared several minutes just being in each other's spiritual auras before they withdrew from their link.
Dropping out of the trance Akileena exhaled a long breath. They would get through this. The prophecised one would release them all, they just had to hold on long enough. Uncrossing his legs, he rose from the large, circular chair and resumed packing the small bag he would take with him to Denas. In a second bag he placed a tunic woven with smooth, but heavy threads. In the hem, he had hand-stitched the gems that Dematica demanded to ensure Lea-ryn's safety. His daughter was more important to him than all the gems in the realm. The mage felt a small flicker of joy at the thought of seeing her soon, it was all he lived for now.
Day 7 – Afternoon
Outside Sal-Cirus
(heading towards Anuruna Lake)
Dematica pulled back from the plane where she was tracking the two elvan located in the wooded hills near Anuruna Lake. A sharp, searing pain penetrated her barriers and was followed by a duller pain that made her head ache as if it had been struck with a hammer. She winced. Not only had her protective barriers been breached, they had been completely torn down. Dematica felt a moment of panic before she controlled it and set about repairing the damage. The mage might have found a flaw in her shields but that did not mean he could actually hurt her.
'Your first mistake was believing you could track me without my notice, Dematica. You are making another mistake in believing I can cause you no harm. Your misjudgement may even endanger your life.'
The sending seemed to come from nowhere. What was more daunting, was that the intruder did not need to link with her to deliver his message; his thought was simply there. It was as if it was a thought of her own, except she knew her thoughts.
'You cannot harm me. Do you really think your little threats are intimidating?' Dematica sent back with a snarl, only to find her sending did not reach the opposing elvan, although he got the message. Somehow, he plucked it out of her mind.
This elvan was, seemingly, untouchable. Dematica was perturbed now; she would be a fool otherwise. She was not afraid he could follow through on his threats to her life. She was aware other mages could kill, but in those cases their victims were untalented and unable to defend themselves. That did not mean he could not harm her. He could send her unconscious or divert her will. She was ready for this and had learned how to awaken from forced unconsciousness. As for the diversion of will... Well, there were many ways to pursue what you wanted without going after it directly.
Dematica shifted planes readying herself to make a psychic attack. She had developed a particularly vicious strike that altered the other's perception. It eroded confidences and heightened fear and anxiety. It could reduce the most arrogant man to a snivelling coward in seconds. What Dematica liked most about it, was that they rarely recovered their sanity, their minds permanently damaged.
'I make no threat, Dematica, I give you warning. Do not force me to take action.'
Dematica sent her mirth, she would not show this mage fear. 'When I catch up to you, little mage, I will show you the difference between threat and action.'
Within her sending, Dematica carefully concealed her attack, delighting in the idea that she did not even have to slip it through the other mage's barriers. If he took her sending from her mind like he had last time, then he would deliver his own downfall.
Day 7 – Afternoon
Venshui
Andarin Debanikay crossed the planes quickly, a sending of distress setting him on alert. He recognised Dematica's essence, though not that of the other on the plane with her. What was Dematica doing? She was supposed to be transferring posts with Akileena. What had happened to her protective barriers?
A surge of energy rippled through the plane. Andarin was filled with foreboding as he rushed to Dematica's aid.
Day 7 – Afternoon
Outside Sal-Cirus
(heading towards Anuruna Lake)
The entire patrol froze as a long, drawn-out cry of anguish pierced the tranquil morning. Dematica clutched at her head, still screaming. Then the sound died, fading into silence. The mage slumped over and fell off her horse, thudding heavily to the ground.
Thane Greyson whirled his horse about. 'Healer!' he yelled towards the back of the group. Ensirus caught up to them and dismounted, drawing his medicine bag with him as he knelt beside the mage.
He checked Dematica's pulse and breathing, and found them acceptable, if a little rapid. Ensirus then placed a hand upon her forehead. No fever, no sweats. He looked over any exposed parts of her body, checking for any sign the mage may have been bitten or stung by something. He found nothing. What had happened?
'Well!' Greyson demanded.
'I am not sure, lord. I believe she was attacked by a mage. I will try to bring her to, mayhap she can enlighten us,' he answered, rummaging through his bag and finally locating a small vial.
'Right. Take a break,' Greyson yelled to his men.
The men barely responded, instead they all looked upon the mage
with dread. If the mage could be felled, what could be done to them?
Greyson did not notice, he needed the mage to track the elvan thief. He was sure it was the elvan the Great Lord was searching for. Nathan Kennelm may have won the post heading the search for the Saviour, but that did not dissuade Greyson from using his initiative to learn all he could about the search and conduct his own investigations. After all, Thane Aldarsan, Nathan's predecessor, had barely lasted a turn before Malithorn lost his patience and killed him.
The smith who was attacked was Gareth Blacksmith — the very smith who had made the crests hanging in Lord Abbarane's throne room. Greyson was well aware, through his informal sources, that Nathan was very nervous about those crests. As a result, Curtin was too. Rumour said they were somehow connected to The Prophecy and the elvan predicted to walk its path.
This thief was connected to the Saviour at the centre of The Prophecy, Greyson was certain of it. A search of Gareth's workshop revealed that his safe had been emptied, which meant that the thief had been in that workshop on purpose; he had not just come across Gareth in the street by chance and decided to rob him. What had he wanted from the smith? Information about how to get to the crests, perhaps?
Greyson watched with little patience as the healer held an open vial beneath Dematica's nose. At first, there was no reaction, and then she came to with a start. One moment she was lying there stunned, and the next she was sitting bolt upright yelling and flailing her arms about like she was fighting someone off.
Ensirus pulled back to rummage in his bag again, quickly extracting another small vial. He removed the cork with his teeth and moved forward again, being careful not to be struck as he did. The men around them watched speechlessly.
'You two!' the Thane yelled. 'Hold her still, you senseless dolts!'
