by Tim Stead
He moved quickly across the room to the shelves where the horde of magical knickknacks was kept. There were a great number of them, and he carefully chose one that did not look special, but was hard to distinguish from its brethren. It was a small black amulet. He could sense its power, but had no real idea what it might be for. It would take time to determine that, and he did not have time.
He saw the book.
Corderan’s book was stacked on a shelf just a few steps away, jumbled among others. He was tempted to reach out and take it. The book was his, after all. He thought of himself as Corderan’s heir, and certainly he had more right to it than Gerique. But it would be a foolish thing to do, to take the book. If there was one thing that Gerique would be sure to miss, it would be that. He touched it, ran his fingers over the smooth leather binding. I will be back for you.
He reluctantly stepped back to the wall and passed within it, emerging a few moments later in the secret room.
Now he needed to find out what the amulet did. He hoped that it would not be too valuable, but he felt it would be prudent to know, in case he was destroying something that could help him in his fight.
He sat at the desk and placed it before him. Closing his eyes he could see details of the spell, sounds and colours, dancing around the dark stone. It was simple enough, and in a few minutes he resolved it. The amulet protected against poison. It was useful, but not indispensable; the sort of thing that a king might chose to wear if his relatives were a little too keen on the succession.
He stood and fetched Shadow Cutter from where he had left it. It was no longer the same weapon. Drawing it carefully he examined the blade, or tried to. The sword now looked like a hole in the world. His eyes skidded across the emptiness, clung to the edges of its shape instead. It was not black, but something darker. It reflected nothing, and no features were visible on its surface.
I am ready to serve you, Master of White Rock.
“And so you shall. Now I will give you a new name. For centuries you have been Shadow Cutter. Hundreds have perished on your edge, armies have fled from your reach, but now you have a new purpose, and a new name. You shall be called Soul Eater, and you will tear the strength from the enemies of men.”
He reached the sword out and touched the amulet. He felt nothing, but when he took the blade away again there was no sense of magic in the charm. He sheathed the sword and studied the black stone in its silver setting. It was just silver and stone. Nothing stirred in his magical sense. It was dead.
Now you have a weapon.
Rin, you have not spoken for a while.
What will you do next?
I must test it on a single Faer Karani.
Gerique? No, I see that you have another in mind.
Yes. Dragan. He has killed so many. He will be the first.
He is the strongest.
But not the most formidable. He will simply try to kill me. I do not think that he is very bright.
So the Shan believe, Cal, but these things are not known.
Never the less, he will be the first.
Now?
No. It would give Gerique too much warning that something threatens him. If he is not surprised by this then he may have some way to counter it.
When?
When Delf brings the plans.
A reason to call on Gerique. He will still be suspicious.
But I will give him a reason not to be.
So now he was prepared, and the plan was set in place. It would be known by now that he had not, after all, left White Rock. He was sure that Gerique’s summons while he was shut away working on his weapon was no more than a test to see if he was still there. Stil’s men would tell Gerique that he was back, but he had no desire to be.
Now he needed something to occupy him for a day at a time, something that would take him far from White Rock.
41 The Book Dealer
Ella had grown fond of the Shining Wake and its rough clientele. With Kane to protect her she had no fear of the place, and even her father had eventually agreed that she would be safe with her formidable bondsman at her side. Everyone knew Kane, and most feared him.
Kane himself appeared to be changing. She had insisted that he begin learning to read and write. It was not a skill that his brutal childhood had given him, and it was not a thing that he valued, but she persisted, and Kane obeyed. He was no longer as quick to draw his blade as he had once been. If there was no immediate threat he would wait for her command, and Ella always tried to resolve matters with words. That was the trader way.
In the Shining Wake she had a regular table. It was the same one that she had occupied on the first day they had gone there; the day that Fram had threatened her.
Shabrin, the landlord, had taken a liking to her, and often came to her table to take her order personally. It was a mark of great favour. Most had to crowd the small space by the bar, jostling with the busy daytime trade of eaters and drinkers, to place an order.
She was not surprised, then, when Shabrin approached shortly after she had taken her seat by the window. It was a hot, sunny day, and the sea looked a stunning, painted blue. There were even a few white sails raised to take advantage of the mild winds, and they contributed to the composition.
“Mistress Saine, I am glad to see that you favour us once again with your patronage.”
She turned from the window and saw Shabrin, hands clasped together, smiling at her from the other side of the table. He was a short round man, and his face seemed flat and threatening, small eyes and broken nose adding to the threat, until he smiled, and then it was pure sunshine. It was hard to tell his age, but she guessed he was somewhere close to fifty.
“I cannot stay away, Master Shabrin. I am addicted to your food.”
Shabrin loved food, and he loved that people loved his food. He loved it with a strange passion that Ella did not understand. He loved to eat it, loved to prepare it, look at it, and most of all he loved to see other people enjoy what he had prepared. It was surprising that he had ended up in a rough place like the Shining Wake, but there was no doubt that the place did a roaring trade, and Shabrin prospered.
“I have a special treat for you today, Mistress. The ice fish are migrating, and the boats have had a good catch. We have prepared them with fruit and sweet wine in the Iskran fashion.”
“It sounds good, Master Shabrin. What else do you have?”
Shabrin recited the menu. It lived in his head, as did every order that he took. He could have told you what any of his customers had eaten the previous day, and he never made a mistake. The menu was mostly seafood, because that was what he could get fresh. Meat usually travelled in from the country, took days to arrive, was often less than perfect, and so it rarely found its way to the Shining Wake. Ella had discovered some time ago that Shabrin had bought several fishing boats, and most of his fish came from them. It was rarely as much as a day old.
“I will have the ice fish, Shabrin, and so will Kane. We need to educate his palette.”
“I will bring it as soon as it is ready, Mistress Saine, but I have one more thing to tell you. There is a man here who has been asking questions about you.”
“About me?” She felt Kane become a few degrees less relaxed.
“Yes. He has been asking about books, and scholars. Apparently someone mentioned your name to him. He is in the corner, over by the bar there. He seems quite wealthy, and enjoyed the ice fish. I do not think he is Samaran.”
“Books and scholars? He did not say what he wanted?”
“No.”
“How did he seem to you, Master Shabrin?”
“A gentleman, I would think. He is well dressed, polite, and wears a sword.”
“Well in that case, will you ask him if he would like to join us?”
“Are you sure?” Kane was dutifully dubious.
“I’m sure there is no harm in it, Kane. Books and scholars – he probably does not even know the family.”
Shabrin left them, an
d Ella peered into the gloom of the inn, her eyes still a little dim from looking at the bright blue sea and sky. After a minute or two a man emerged from the gloom. He was a little below average height, and as Shabrin had said he was well dressed, perhaps even a little over dressed. He was younger than Kane, probably in his twenties.
“Ella Saine?” he sounded doubtful.
“Yes.”
“You seem very young. People speak of you as a scholar.”
She bristled a little. “Old enough to have you seek me out. You are hardly a greybeard yourself.”
He smiled.
“Well, that is so,” he agreed, and sat down opposite her. She saw him glance at Kane, and her bondsman sat forwards, alert. Now that he was in the light she was troubled by his face, especially his eyes. They were very calm, but not lifeless. She had learned to read men’s faces, but there was little there to read. All his features were under control, and his hands, where they rested on the table were quite still. His eyes seemed to feed on every detail.
“Will you tell us your name?” she asked.
“Jon. Please call me Jon.” The small hesitation before he spoke was enough that she knew it was not his real name, so his control was not perfect. He had not expected to be asked his name, which was odd.
“And what do you want with me, Jon?”
“I trade in books,” he said. “Especially the older and rarer books. I was led to believe that you may have many books, or at least that you would know who did.”
“Anything in particular?”
“Law is a particular interest,” he said. “Anything to do with the law, and ancient history, before the time of the Faer Karan. Magic, too.”
“You know that books on magic are forbidden by the Faer Karan,” she chided him.
“Quite so, but all the better that you are rid of them, Mistress Saine.”
By now Ella was quite sure that he was dangerous, and lying to her, but in spite of that she did not feel threatened. He interested her.
“Where are you from, Jon? Your voice says you are not from Samara.”
“I travel mostly in the north, but I learned my vowels in the west.”
“Fiord country,” she said. “I have heard tales of it. They say that snow lies on the ground all year, and the ground itself is as hard as iron”
He laughed.
“Only on the mountains, Mistress. There is a short but very green growing season in the sea valleys. It is a hard place to live, but the Faer Karan do not go there, so there are some advantages.”
“Why did you leave?”
He shrugged. “It is a hard place to live. Even in the north it is easier.”
“Have you travelled in the domains of White Rock?”
“Yes,” he seemed taken aback by the question. His tone was more cautious.
“And have you seen the changes there?”
“I have. It is safer than other areas, more prosperous, but those ideas are spreading, and soon most places will be the same, I have heard.”
“Have you met the seneschal, Serhan?”
“No, not met, but I have heard a lot about him. He has some ability, but he has been lucky as well. Without Gerique’s influence and the strength of the guard at White Rock nothing would have come of his reforms.”
“Do you know anything of his system of law?”
“Something. But it was devised by a Samaran called Delf Killore, and he now serves as the lawmaster of White Rock. It is by coincidence that I am sent here on his commission to seek old books on the law, so that much of what has passed may be regained.”
“Tell me what you can of it.”
Jon settled back in his chair and sighed.
“I have come here for books, and for knowledge of books, Mistress Saine. If I am willing to satisfy your curiosity will you promise to help me? I know well the value of such news as I can give you.”
“It is fair,” Ella said. “I will take you to my father’s house and you will see more books than you have ever seen, though I cannot say what you may buy – that will be up to him.”
So the conversation went on. Jon told them about the town and village councils, the way in which hearings were conducted, the crimes and punishments, the idea that all people had various claims – to life, to property, to justice - that they could forfeit those claims and the reasons why. He talked about the Kalla Houses, told stories of real trials, and real people. At the end of an hour he had spoken all that he knew, or so he said. Ella was very pleased to have learned so much. She knew that Calaine would be excited.
She was surprised, though, that he knew so much. He spoke with such clarity and such authority that it was as though he had spent time studying the subject.
“Now I believe that I am in credit,” Jon said.
“And so you are,” Ella agreed. “Please walk with us back to my home, and I will try to match your generosity.”
They took their leave of the Shining Wake and made their way up from the harbour towards Morningside. Conversation was desultory, and Jon looked about him all the time with those eyes that fed on detail.
“May I see your sword?” Kane’s question came out of nowhere, and surprised Ella, who had never known her taciturn bondsman to open a conversation before.
“Of course.” Jon drew his weapon and passed it hilt foremost to Kane, who weighed it in his hand and flourished it a couple of times. People passing them in the street moved further away. Somewhere ahead of them a group of men crossed the road to be on the other side.
“It is well balanced,” Kane commented. He held the hilt in such a way that Ella could see it. “Look at the decoration on this. It is a very pretty weapon.”
Ella was impressed by the thing. She did not look at swords much, but the hilt of this one had been engraved by a skilled hand, and several jewels were set in it to enhance the pattern. Kane gave the blade back to Jon.
“They don’t make swords like that any more,” he said.
“It was a gift,” Jon said. “For a service rendered.”
“Which of the Faer Karan gave it to you?”
Ella hadn’t seen that coming, but she was immediately aware that tension had arisen between the two men.
“Gerique,” Jon said. For the first time she saw that he was not in the least afraid of Kane, and Kane could see it too. It was a novel experience for her.
“It must have been a great service,” Kane said.
Jon smiled again, but said nothing, but took his sword back and they continued to Morningside without another word passing between the two men. When they arrived at the house Ella left the two of them in the courtyard while she went to find her father. She could not conclude her bargain with Jon without his permission. She went to his study, but did not find him there, so she went to the main rooms of the house.
“Crise?”
Her father’s servant appeared. She had no idea how he did that.
“Do you know where my father is, Crise?”
“He had gone to speak to other guild members, Mistress Ella. He is expected home in about an hour.”
“Thank you. And my brother?”
“He is with your father.”
That was inconvenient. She would have to entertain Jon for another hour before they got access to the library. Still, there was one book that he might be interested in that she had in her own room, had left behind when she went to stay with Tarnell. She fetched the Laws of the King from her old room and went back down to the courtyard.
There was a crowd gathered there now, which worried her, and she could hear the sound of sword on sword. She pushed her way to the front.
Kane and Jon were fencing. Ella knew very little about fighting with swords, but she could tell immediately from the people around her that she was watching something special. It was an appreciative crowd. She could also tell that Kane was in trouble. He was trying to impose his will on the bout, but his opponent was elusive, always slipping away, somehow working around him. Kane’s great strengt
h and directness were being used against him. She could see doubt on his face.
“Who is he, mistress?”
It was Saul, the captain of her father’s militia, who had appeared at her side.
“A book trader,” she said, aware how unlikely her answer seemed.
Saul looked at her with one of those looks that people use when they are checking that you were serious. He shook his head.
“He didn’t learn this trading books.”
Kane continued to forge ahead, and ahead continued to not be the direction that he was going. She wanted to stop the fight, but did not know how. Kane looked frustrated. He was putting more and more strength and speed into each attack, and each time he finished in the wrong place, somehow out of position having to defend a cut aimed at arm of hip. Jon didn’t look happy, either.
“I’ve never seen anybody fight like that,” Saul said. “It looks like he’s trying not to fight at all, and he’s so fast.”
The phrase was familiar to Ella. Someone had said it to her a few months ago. Who had she been talking to? Corban? She thought it must have been Corban. She remembered his voice saying the words.
Suddenly Calaine was there.
“This one could give lessons,” she said. “I wish some of my father’s men could see this. They’ll never believe it when I tell them.”
“Is Kane really that good?”
“You wouldn’t believe it, watching this, but yes, he’s one of the best men my father had.”
Ella was really uncomfortable, but everyone in the courtyard was smiling, everyone except Kane and Jon. She felt that something terrible was happening.
“I think I know how to beat him,” Calaine said in her ear. She was grinning.
“Calaine, no.”
But it was too late. Calaine had stepped away into the open space of the courtyard, and both combatants paused when they saw her.
“Kane,” she said, “You look like you could use a rest.”
Kane looked at her for a moment, surprised, and the frustration drained out of his face. He relaxed, and shrugged. Ella felt that he’d withdrawn inside himself again, and hidden something.
Calaine drew her sword and stepped forwards looking balanced and confident, and the crowd grew quieter.
