by Karen MacRae
“My master is pleased with your enthusiasm. Lord Taylor, you shall have your fifteen percent. For one hundred thousand more. Do you accept?”
“I do, Mistress. With pleasure.”
“And it is my master’s to give.”
Finn dared not look towards the man who fell to the floor, groaning in ecstasy. He’d practised for this eventuality: for being in the presence of Nystrieth. Sesi might not talk with his voice, but he knew the man was with them: Sesi had no Shaping gift. Finn focused his mind on the visualisation techniques he gone over again and again so he could imagine any and all emotions without losing control of himself. He sent ripples of wonder, excitement and fear through his aura.
“Lady Thumbrid,” Sesi continued. “My master is displeased with your offer of ten thousand more. Are you not content with your investment? Should we terminate your account?”
A black-robed figure at the other end of the table fell to its knees gasping for air. The torture stopped as suddenly as it had begun. “I meant no disrespect, Mistress Sesi, my Lord Emperor. I will divert funds from my expansion plans. You will have forty thousand more.”
“Fifty.”
“I meant fifty, Mistress Sesi. It will be fifty.”
Sesi’s eyes roamed around the table. They came to rest on him. He kept his eyes down, and his lids half shut, his mind running scenarios to keep his aura in keeping with the room. He was grateful for the room’s poor lighting. With any luck it hampered Nystrieth’s Reading as much as it did Anna’s.
“We have a new recruit, I see,” Sesi intoned emotionlessly. “A new recruit with a shiny King’s Oath. We shall have to do something about that. Your name?”
“Kai Geraint, Mistress.”
“Hmm. You fear my master. That is wise. Tell me, how much do you offer as your opening account?”
“Would thirty thousand be sufficient, Mistress Sesi?”
Finn felt his chest constrict. He struggled to breathe but kept his eyes down and allowed more fear into his aura.
“I meant bars, Mistress Sesi. Thirty thousand bars.”
“How delightful. The newcomer has more than the others put together. My master commends you, Novak. Make sure the offer is forthcoming, Master Geraint. My master… dislikes those who do not deliver what they promise. Like you, Master Banbury….”
Sesi’s eyes swung to the black robe next to Lady Thumbrid. The man threw himself down onto the centre of the table, his hands pleading for another chance. “Please, Mistress Sesi, Lord Emperor, it is only a temporary setback. I’ll have the money within the month.”
“You fail us for the third time, Banbury. We were lenient last time, but there is no such thing as a third chance.”
Finn heard every bone in the man’s body break as if a giant’s foot crushed a twig. The man cried out in agony, sobbing for mercy as every pain centre in his body was thrashed by Nystrieth. The stench of emptied bladder and bowel overwhelmed the sickly incense and the screams fell silent. No one moved to help. No one checked if the man still lived. He could not.
Sesi’s voice broke the silence. “Ah, yes, Master Geraint’s oath. My master’s parting gift to you, Geraint.”
Finn felt a wrench in his soul as if his entire family had been wiped from the face of the earth in one dreadful moment. He made himself stay standing. He made himself think of freedom. He made himself think of excitement and greed. Deep inside, he was wailing with loss.
Novak bowed to Sesi. Twenty-two others copied him. The Channeller had become a doll, all life gone from the waxen face. Nystrieth was gone.
Finn looked up in time to see a wizened hand reach out of the darkness to guide the Channeller away. “What the hell was that?” he exclaimed loudly, trying to buy time. “Why the hell was I not warned that the portfolio would be run by a psychopath who will kill anyone who dares go against his wishes? Are we supposed to increase our account every time we meet, whether or not our business plans allow it? This is outrageous!”
Lord Thornson hushed him. Sesi stopped dead as her carer left her side. Finn lowered his eyes to show only angry sea green.
“Sesi dislikes noise. Be silent,” the old crone warned.
“And if I’m not?”
Finn felt the aura attack only just in time to block it. He recognised it as the weapon his mother favoured: a temporary, disabling aura disruption. The woman was a Reader. He walked towards her, his hands itching to reach around her throat.
She drew two short swords and laughed at the unarmed man, telling the others to stay back. She’d enjoy teaching the upstart a lesson.
When he got just outside of her reach, Finn looked straight at her. The shock of seeing his aura suddenly switch to something completely different gave him a solitary moment’s advantage. He drew the pins from his cloak and jumped forward. The pins struck deep into the carer’s temples, their hollow tips pumping poison straight into her brain. He grabbed a blade before it fell from her hand and leapt forward to the still stationary Sesi. Two handed, he smashed the pommel onto her head. The Channeller fell senseless to the ground.
The second blade caught him unawares. He looked down to see several inches of steel protruding from his belly. His last thought was damn, I should have grabbed both swords.
CHAPTER 36
Alsham Castle
S pider’s voice was emotionless as he made his report, but his aura showed the level of his concern. “Beitris and Hew picked him up when Sy and I lost him, milady. He entered a large mansion on the west side of town and spent some twenty minutes there before making his way to the castle just before shift change. He left a bag which should be retrieved when the house is raided. He dallied at the bridge, throwing crumbs for the water birds. He talked to twenty to thirty people before entering the castle. He was still dressed as a woman, but he’d changed his wig so he must have at least three identification cards. He was admitted without question and was seen entering the walls of the outer bailey, but we have no more news of him. We took the liberty of ordering the gates locked until notified by yourself, in person.”
Lady Braxton nodded. “And so we have to assume that there are at least twenty people primed to assassinate Anna and that the numbers grow with every minute that passes.” The spy mistress looked at the faces arrayed around the table. “Ideas?” she asked.
It took Bojek only ten minutes to find out that the Shaper was ensconced in Lady Braxton’s office and that she had a protection detail of seven who accompanied her everywhere. They weren’t stupid enough to take her outside where an archer could get her so he’d have to be patient and wait for dark when the odds would be more in his favour. It wouldn’t stop him imprinting ideas in as many heads as possible though, just in case things didn’t go as expected. It only took one to be successful.
Anna and Seleste locked the door into their bedroom at seventeen o’clock. Six guards manned the doors from outside with a further six barricading the entrances to the corridor. They had orders to kill anyone who tried to force their way through the blockade.
Anna’s bedtime reading was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Miss Northcott, are you awake? You have a visitor, a guard from the new intake. She claims to come at your request.”
Seleste raised an eyebrow. Anna shrugged. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Seleste went to the door, her blades drawn. “Keep her back against the other wall with your blade tips on her belly and chest. Position yourselves so we can see her from the bedroom door.”
“Yes, miss… It’s done, miss.”
Seleste opened the door. She recognised the guard pinned against the wall. It was the young woman who’d been raped. The assassin could see new tear tracks down the guard’s cheeks. Her aura was red with fury and guilt, but her eyes were alert rather than filled with the vacant stare of Compulsion. Seleste wasn’t about to take any chances though. She stepped back, but kept her eyes firmly on the visitor, her body loose and ready to react. She turned to the Shaper and deliberately pointed at her right eye.
Anna nodded her understanding then stepped forward into view and fixed her eyes on the visitor’s right eye. There was no red spark and no response in the girl’s aura other than relief at the sight of the Shaper.
“You said I should come. Please. A friend needs you,” she said, urgency screaming from her simple entreaty.
Anna looked at Seleste.
“Sometimes unrelated things really are just that,” Seleste said.
Anna nodded. “Let her in,” she told the guards.
Five minutes later, the three women ducked through the panel in the privy. They made their way along dusty passageways that led into the bowels of the keep, their swaying lantern giving off the only light. Seleste led the way. She’d played in these tunnels as a child and knew them as well as any except perhaps Davy.
They found the latest victim collapsed and bleeding in a dark corner of the stables, her body covered with straw so she wouldn’t be seen. The horses could smell the blood and were unnerved, but the noise hadn’t yet attracted attention.
“I need more light,” Anna said.
The extra lanterns revealed the horrific extent of the violence the poor, battered girl had endured. Her body was a mass of broken bones and knife wounds and she had been brutally and repeatedly raped.
“This is all my fault,” the guard whispered. “If only I’d reported it. Oh, light. It’s all my fault. Please, King’s Shaper, please save her.”
Anna looked at the black streaked aura and wasn’t sure where to start. At the worst, she decided: the knife wound low on the belly. Rather than use her crystal pendant or her dagger, she used the endless power of the raw crystal under her feet. The wound Healed in moments. Next came the head injury and the intimate injuries which bled profusely. She had Seleste help her straighten broken bones so they would Heal correctly and finally she eased every single bruise. The girl’s breathing gradually returned to normal and she slept.
“This cannot happen to anyone else. You do see that, don’t you?”
“Light, yes, miss. I wish I could turn the clock back. I’ll tell you everything.”
“She must too.”
“She will. She’s stronger than me.”
Anna knelt back down by the sleeping girl and trickled enough energy into her aura to wake her. She woke confused, as if from a dream, her hand going straight to her belly, but instead of pain she felt well. She recognised the famous birthmark on the face before her and immediately jumped up to stand at attention. “Miss Northcott! Miss Peyton! Nora! What the hell?” she swore.
Fifteen minutes later, the four women left unseen. All four auras blazed red.
Across in the visiting Officers’ Quarters, two men in blood-splattered clothing were drinking and laughing. A third man fingered the brocade on one of their discarded jackets. It was thick with blood.
“You disgrace the Iliyeth uniform,” he said stiffly.
“Go to hell, you mongrel, before we beat your impertinence out of you,” one laughed. The other snorted his agreement.
“You will confess to General Braxton or I will report you myself.”
The men sat up, their humour replaced with animosity. “You mangey, disloyal cur,” one spat. “You think these island bitches worth anything? They play at soldier, but they are pathetic. Good for only one thing.”
“I bet you corner them and use your titles to frighten them into obedience. This one fought back though, didn’t she? And a nice dent she made in the pair of you. Two on one, experience versus inexperience and you won only by brute force. The only pathetic ones are you.”
The two drunks stood up and drew their blades, moving to the left and right of the third man.
“You think to beat me?” he taunted. “Me? I could cut you into ribbons with one hand tied behind my back.”
“Just as well it wasn’t just the two of us then, wasn’t it?”
The third man crashed to the floor, his head caved in by a metal statuette. He was being carried in an old blanket towards the storm drain when the women arrived.
“Good evening, officers,” said the Shaper.
“Good evening, miss,” said the man at the front. “We’re just dumping an old carpet, if you could let us pass.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” she replied quite calmly.
The women pulled back their hoods to reveal their faces. All four were familiar. The men dropped their burden and drew their weapons, grouping themselves so they could fight as one.
Anna decided they were the perfect subjects for a bit of experimentation. First, she tried adding a block to their sword arms. She was delighted to see three arms lock in place. The memory of Luciado’s injury came to mind so the second thing she did was block the workings at the back of the brain and the men went blind. They fell to their knees, crying out in horror. Anna silenced them by cutting off their airways. “If you make another sound, I will suffocate you where you kneel. Nod if you understand.”
The men nodded frantically, their faces turning blue. Anna eased the blocks and they gasped in fresh air.
“You raped these women. You will never do it again.” The Shaper waved her hand and the three men fell flat on their faces, unconscious.
“Are you sure you’ll be able to manage?” she asked the two victims as she removed the various blocks to the mens’ auras.
“Leave it to us. We’ll have them trussed and displayed in the training square long before they wake up. I know just the guards to help us keep watch.”
Seleste was kneeling over the discarded ‘old carpet’. He was groaning and his head oozed blood, but he was sitting up. “Captain Roscoe, you really must change your leather oil. It gives a terrible impression,” she said, wrinkling her nose at the slimy smell wafting from the man’s beautifully cared-for leathers.
The Captain looked across to the three collapsed bodies being trussed up by two young women. “They’ll live to stand trial?” he asked calmly, despite the pounding in his skull.
“Oh yes, but first they’re going to know what it feels like to be valued as worse than nothing. Would you like to help?”
“Damned… My apologies… I would indeed, Miss Peyton. It would be my pleasure.”
Anna put her hand on the Captain’s head and his wound closed in a flash, the throbbing completely gone. She gave him a nod before Seleste and she disappeared off into the dark.
They were halfway back to the bedroom, somewhere between the second and third floors, when Seleste spotted a light ahead. She pushed Anna close to the wall behind her and covered their lantern with her cloak. The light ahead was wavering and dimming, being carried away from them. The sound of boots scuffing the stone floor was faint, but clear. The two women began to creep forwards, following the lantern.
A man’s voice muttered. “Right, right, left, up, right, left, left, third door. Right, right, left, up, right, left, left, third door. Right, right, left, up, right, left, left, third door.”
“That’s the route to Lady Braxton’s bedroom from the first floor,” Seleste whispered. The light vanished suddenly and a door closed ahead. The assassin uncovered her lantern and broke into a sprint, the Shaper right behind her.
Seleste cracked open the door, listening intently. “Hold up the tapestry,” she whispered.
Anna pushed the heavy fabric away from the doorway and Seleste ducked through, a short sword in each hand. A guard lay groaning at the corner of the corridor. The women charged to the man’s side. Anna knelt, pulling blackness out of his aura as Seleste peered around the corner.
Seleste turned to check the Shaper was behind her. “There’s no time, Anna!” she said harshly, setting off left at full speed.
“You’ll be fine,” Anna said over her shoulder as she ran after her companion. Her hand was tight on her dagger, her heart racing. There was no sign of their quarry.
Seleste skidded to a stop before the next turn. She bent to waist height and took a quick look around the corner. Before her, lying prone on the floor, was another guard. Her head s
napped back to Anna. “Leave him,” she warned before resuming her sprint.
Anna’s heart lurched when she saw the young man lying in a pool of blood, but she could see his aura was gone. Ahead were four guards, fighting for their lives. Two were on the floor, struggling for control of a single dagger. The other two fought blade on blade. She had no idea which were the Compelled.
“We need them talking,” shouted Seleste: an instruction to the unCompelled guards and to Anna. She couldn’t just knock them out and she didn’t have time to do anything fancy. She sent blocks into all four spines, cutting off all possible movement. The upright guards crashed to the floor, their muscles frozen, their balance gone.
Seleste gave Anna an approving nod before pushing the uppermost grappler off the one underneath. “Lady Braxton? General? It’s Seleste and Anna. The attack is neutralised. Anna, tell them you’re here.”
“I’m here too, milady, milord. The Compelled are under control.”
The doors to the bedroom opened to reveal General and Lady Braxton in their nightclothes, blades in all four hands. “Good job, ladies,” said Vixen. She looked at the four immobile guards. “Which is which?” she asked.
Two men immediately started talking over each other. “They said they were our relief, ma’am, but they weren’t due for two hours.” “Them, not us, ma’am! They started it!” “Didn’t have a chance to get my blade out before he came at me with that knife.”
A frown from Lady Braxton silenced the men. “Anna, you can let these two up, please,” she instructed the Shaper.
As soon as they were on their feet, the General issued orders. “Get to the gate. Sound a level four alert. As fast as you can.” The guards took off like a demon was after them. “Seleste, we need to get Anna to safety.”
“These two used the passageways, General.”
“It can’t be helped. I’m sure the four of us can deal with anything we come across. Vivienne?”
Lady Braxton was kneeling next to the frozen guards. “What were your orders?”
