The Shamer's War

by Lene Kaaberbøl

  “Do I smell that bad?”

  He laughed. “No, I meant—to help make you feel better. About everything.”

  “Nico, are you still mad that I followed you?”

  “No,” he said. “Not mad. Only I wish you hadn’t. If it had been at all possible, I would have done this completely on my own. Just me and Drakan. But I had to have a ship, and that meant bringing Carmian in on it. And then Davin—and the minute I got rid of him, there you were, and you just wouldn’t go away. And now… now it seems I’ve gone and recruited an entire people.”

  “The Gelts?”

  “Yes. I knew they were here, even though my father pretty much discounted them as an unruly pack of smugglers, unreliable and impossible to govern. But there are many more of them than I thought. Some have left the settlements and live in the coastland towns and villages like ordinary people, but they have not forgotten they are Gelts, says Ethlas. When they hear of the bargain we have struck, they will give us aid. And a people who has lived in hiding for centuries, well, they know a lot of secret ways and hiding places. They will find out for us where Drakan is now, and they can help me get to him.”

  I pulled away just far enough to see his face. Where the beard had been, the skin was slightly paler.

  “Nico, are you sure—I mean, you… you don’t even like swords. And Drakan, do you really think you can kill him?”

  The muscles round his eyes tensed to hear me put it so bluntly.

  “It seems to be my task,” he said. “And I will make certain I don’t fumble it this time.”

  “Nico, you hate such things.”

  “Yes.”

  “But are you any good at it? All that sword stuff, I mean.” I knew he had been taught swordplay as a child, and that he and Davin had been training together lately. But Drakan had been far superior that day in the Arsenal Court, and it had only been because of Rose that Nico hadn’t been killed there and then.

  “Many are better,” said Nico.

  “Then why not let one of them do it?”

  If only he would. I was so afraid he wouldn’t be able to see it through. And even more afraid that he would die trying, and uselessly. But he shook his head stubbornly.

  “I have been hiding for more than two years now. And throughout that time things have become steadily worse. All the time, more deaths, more destruction. None of it would have happened if I hadn’t hesitated when I had the chance. Enough is enough. I want an end to it now. Not a grand war that will kill even more people. Just one quiet murder. If I can do it.”

  “Nico!”

  “There is no reason to call it by a prettier name. I have no intention of challenging him to an honorable duel. I just want him dead so there will be an end to it.”

  It was the second time he used those words, and I wondered whether it was only Drakan’s death he wanted.

  “Nico, you will do what you can to survive this, won’t you?”

  “Of course. I don’t want to die.”

  I didn’t quite believe him. Someone like Nico—could he kill another human being, even a human being like Drakan, and live on afterward? Like nothing had happened?

  “When do you think we will hear news?”

  “In a couple of days, I hope. It would not be wise to stay here much longer than that. The Crow will do what he can to find us on his own, but if he fails, he will try and earn his reward by selling what knowledge he has. And once the Dragon soldiers start searching the marshes, well, I would rather not make the Gelts face such troubles. They may come to count our bargain a costly one.”

  “Not much time, then.” And somewhere out there was also Azuan. I didn’t think he was the type to quit and go home.

  “Dina.”

  I waited, but at first no more words came from him, only a strange hunted look.

  “Yes,” I prompted.

  “Will you please stay here?”

  “Here?”

  “Yes. It would be so awful… I wouldn’t know what to do if you—” He broke off again.

  I stepped back even farther and set my hands on my hips. “Are you planning to run out on me again?”

  “No.”

  “Or drug me with poppy?”

  “No. That didn’t really work, did it?”

  “But you would rather I stayed behind?”

  “Yes. The Spinner said I mustn’t force you. That I had to let you make your own choices. But please will you stay here? It would feel so good to know you were safe.”

  “Are you taking Carmian?”

  “Carmian? Yes, I—”

  “Then I’m coming too.”

  “Dina, it isn’t a good—”

  “If you think I am going to let you go traipsing off with that scheming female, think again. Castellaine, my eye. If she gets a better offer, do you think she would hesitate to sell you to the highest bidder, like a farmer sells a cow that doesn’t yield enough milk anymore?”

  “Actually, yes. She wouldn’t do that.”

  “You trust her?”

  “Yes.”

  I shook my head. “Well, that does it, then.”

  “Dina—”

  “No. If she comes, I come.”

  He looked so miserable that I nearly felt sorry for him. But I was in no mood to back down, and I think he could see that. He spun on his heel and went back to the guesthouse. The rest of the day he steadily drank one glass of Geltermead after the other and grew more and more irritable and silent. When Carmian asked if he didn’t think he had had enough, he slammed down the metal cup and walked out without a single word.

  Two days passed. Two strange days of living in the guesthouse, Nico, Carmian, and I, trying not to fight too much. After that first day, Nico stayed off the mead, but it still wasn’t easy, and a little past noon the second day I reached the point where I had to go outside, despite the chilling winds that howled through the marshes, simply because I was so fed up with Carmian that I couldn’t stay under the same roof as her. It was as Nico and the Spinner had said—the two of us really didn’t like each other much.

  I did see Ethlas go into the guesthouse, but I was not yet ready to come inside. I pretended that I wasn’t cold at all and was in any case terribly interested in watching two half-grown goat kids tussle with each other, each trying to ram the other with its budding horns.

  In a while, Nico came out.

  “Dina?”

  I raised an arm in a hesitant wave. His voice sounded all wrong, and there was something about the way he moved… The chill crept into my chest and centered on my heart. Something had happened. Even at this distance, I could tell as much.

  “What is it?” I said. “What has happened?”

  He stopped while he was still a few paces away.

  “Drakan has moved into the Highlands,” he said.

  I stared at him. “But it’s winter,” I said tonelessly. “Or nearly so. He can’t do that. Not now.” That he would do it one day was something we all knew. But seeing that autumn had passed without an attack, we thought… “It’s not spring yet!”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Where? Where has he attacked?” Not Baur Kensie, I silently prayed. Not Kensie.

  “Baur Laclan. But he has taken more than half the Dragon Force with him, they say. Dina, it’s only a matter of time.”

  “Can’t they stop him?” I whispered. “Laclan is a big clan. Powerful. Surely they can…”

  The pity in Nico’s gaze took my voice away. He knew so much more about armies and soldiers than I did, so much more about how war was waged.

  “Perhaps,” he said, but I could tell he didn’t believe it.

  “Why not?” I asked.

  “Dina, Drakan has more than eight thousand men. How many do you think Laclan can muster? Two thousand? Three thousand, if they let the old men fight?”

  “But if the other clans help—”

  “Yes. A big if. The clans like to mind their own business, and some of them might even be shortsighted enough to delight in L
aclan’s misfortune. And even the ones that are willing, will they get there in time? No one thought he would attack now.”

  “Callan will unite them and make them help. Callan can lead—” And then I realized what I had forgotten in the heat of the moment. Callan was not at Baur Kensie, and he couldn’t at the moment lead anything or unite anybody. He might not even… might not even be alive anymore.

  Nico didn’t say anything. His guilt at Callan’s fate made him look at the ground, so that all I could see of his head at the moment was his dark hair.

  Something cold and wet touched my face. I brushed it away.

  “We leave in a couple of hours,” he said. “If we hurry—Luckily there aren’t that many Dragon soldiers left in the coastlands, and the ones that are still here are busy just staying in control. We can travel more openly than we would otherwise have dared.”

  “To Baur Laclan?” I asked.

  “No,” said Nico. “No matter how fast we travel, Dina, Baur Laclan will have fallen long before we get there.”

  Helena Laclan, who had given me Silky. Tavis and his mother. Ivain, who had fought against Davin in the Ring of Iron and spared his life. Baur Laclan was a city, by Highland standards. Could it really be true that… that all those people… Ugly sights crowded together in my head. Burning thatch. Panicked children and animals, wounded men, and people dying. I tried to blink them away and would rather look at Nico. What was that in his hair?

  Snowflakes. Tiny white crystals that melted almost right away. But when I stared up at the sky, I could see that more were coming.

  The young goats stopped their fight to stare at the strange new fluffiness whirling among the houses.

  “Look,” I said. “Nico, it’s snowing. Do you think there is snow in the Highlands too?”

  “Possibly. The winter comes earlier up there in the high places.”

  “Then he has to turn back. Surely, he has to turn back.”

  Nico shook his head. “No. If he hadn’t decided that this would be a winter war, he wouldn’t have left in the first place. I don’t think we can count on a couple of snowflakes to stop him.”

  Stupid snowflakes. I stared at them as if it was all their fault. Couldn’t they have arrived a little earlier? Couldn’t there have been more of them, many more, so that Drakan would have been forced to give up his miserable war before it had even started? Now it was all too late.

  DAVIN

  Soldiers

  Was it better to be saved by the Dragon Force than not to be saved at all? I didn’t know. Without aid Callan would die—but a helping hand from a Dragon soldier? I didn’t think Callan would thank me for my efforts, especially not if it meant that Rose, the Harbormaster, and all the rest would fall into Dragon hands as well. But I had already said far, far too much.

  “The boy came tearing into town like the devil himself was at his heels,” said the Dragon soldier who had first seen me. “Something about a shipwreck, he said, and a Kensie.”

  His superior looked up from the report he was making. His face was full of tiny scars where the beard didn’t cover it. They looked white against his weather-beaten skin.

  “Was he alone?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “What’s your name, boy?”

  “Damian,” I said in a last-ditch attempt not to reveal too much.

  “Damian?” said the first soldier. “I thought you said Davin?”

  “No. Damian.”

  The two men exchanged a look, and I saw the soldier shake his head.

  “No, My Lord Knight,” he said. “He said Davin. I’m sure of it.”

  My Lord Knight? So this was one of Drakan’s dreaded Dragon knights? Except for the scars, he looked quite ordinary.

  “Lying to me isn’t wise,” he said in a flat voice. “It makes me suspicious. Which ship was it?”

  I opened my mouth, then shut it again. I had already messed up once. No, twice, actually. I wasn’t a great actor at the best of times, and right now I could barely stay upright. I was shaking with fatigue, and my body was going from hot to cold so quickly that it was making me dizzy and sick. Keeping track of a lot of half-lies and half-truths… no, I was better off saying nothing at all.

  “Please,” I murmured, “may I have some water?”

  “Answer me. Which ship?”

  I hung my head. “I’m thirsty. Please can I have a little water?”

  If only the other one would—

  Yes. The blow hit me across the back of the neck, not all that hard, but hard enough. I let myself drop. The soldier attempted to haul me back on my feet, but I wasn’t having any. I was close to not being able to stand, so it was not particularly hard to pretend it was impossible.

  “Not his head, Balain. How often do I have to tell you?” said the knight.

  “But I didn’t hit him very hard,” said the soldier defensively.

  “Then hit him not very hard somewhere else. We can’t interrogate an unconscious prisoner.”

  Exactly. That had been my thought too.

  The soldier kicked me in the side, a little tentatively. But I was no blank-back. I had taken my turn in the Whipping Yard of the Sagisburg, and it would take more than a measly kick to make me yelp.

  “Well?”

  “Sorry, sir.”

  “Is he gone?”

  “I think so, sir.”

  The gravel crunched next to my ear. Out of the corner of my eye I could see his boot, and this gave me a second’s warning before he grabbed me by the hair with one hand and raised my head off the ground. A blade flashed, and for a second I thought he simply meant to cut my throat there and then. But it wasn’t my throat he was aiming for. The point of the knife broke the skin just below my left eye.

  My eye. He was going to take out my eye.

  There was no time for thought. I twisted to one side and knocked away his knife hand with my arm. Not my eyes, please no, I didn’t want to be blind, couldn’t let him—

  He let go of my hair and shoved me with one boot so that I flopped onto my back. As I lay there, I felt a thin thread of blood run down my cheek, almost like a tear.

  “Not quite gone after all, it seems,” said the knight drily.

  “Sneaky bastard,” muttered the soldier, and looked like he wanted to kick me again.

  “Did he say where the shipwreck was?”

  “Someplace called Troll Cove. A half-day by boat, the Arlainfolks say.”

  “Very well. Take a couple of the fishermen and one boat—the others you may burn—and go to this Troll Cove. Since he is trying so hard not to tell us anything, I’m sure it will be worth our while. I can spare you… hmmmm… ten men. That ought to be enough.”

  “Sir, might it be a trap, do you think?”

  The knight hesitated only for a moment. Then he shook his head. “No. He’s not that clever.”

  The soldier gave me a venomous look. “What about the boy?” he said. “Do we take him as well?”

  “No. Leave him to me. I may be wrong, but I have a feeling the Dragon Lord will be pleased to see him.”

  I fell down three times during the first half mile of the walk.

  “The lad is all in,” said one of the fishermen from Arlain, who had been trying to keep me upright the last bit of the way. “Surely ye can see it is no good. He cannot go on.”

  “He’ll have to learn, then,” said the nearest Dragon soldier. “We can’t drag our heels just because he has decided to be delicate.”

  “It is hard on the little ones too.” The fisherman was not easy to shut up, it seemed. “Dragging them all over the countryside in the middle of the night!”

  The Dragon soldier rode his horse very close to the fisherman.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Obain.”

  “Listen, Obain. The next time you open your big mouth without being asked, I’ll take your ear off.”

  The stubborn fisherman glared at the soldier. He took a deep breath, and I thought he might be about t
o speak again despite the threat.

  “Don’t,” I said. “He means it.”

  The fisherman—Obain—still glared, but at least he glared in silence. Satisfied, the Dragon soldier nodded briefly and moved on down the long line of people straggling through the night.

  There were perhaps forty of us all told. Every grown man in Arlain except for those who had been ordered to take the boat out to Troll Cove. And a child from every single house. The youngest wasn’t even a year old—a small girl riding in a rucksack at her father’s back, and probably the only prisoner in the long line who was not afraid.

  The women remained behind. But how were they to survive when the men were gone and the boats burned? It was hard to see how they would manage. In less than eight hours the Dragon soldiers had torn everything in their lives apart and had changed everything in the little village for always.

  “Devils,” muttered Obain, as if he could hear my thoughts. “Damned devils.”

  My legs felt as if they were on fire, while the rest of me was shaking continuously from cold and exhaustion. The muscles of my stomach felt like wood, and my back was screaming at me. There didn’t seem to be a single part of me that didn’t hurt. Back when I still had enough breath left to speak, I had asked Obain if he knew where we were going.

  “Baur Laclan, I think. But it’s more than a day’s journey. And with the little ones…”

  Baur Laclan. More than a day. We would have to rest then, I thought, at some point. Sleep. Oh, sweet Lady, sleep. But it seemed the Dragon soldiers had no plans to let us rest while there was any strength left in us at all. What was the hurry?

  Maybe there was no hurry. Maybe it was just because exhausted men are easier to control.

  When I fell down for the fifth time, even the Dragon soldiers could see it was no use. One of them prodded me with his sword, and I made one last effort to rise. I got no farther than my knees, then my midriff cramped so badly that I collapsed completely.

  “My Lord Knight!”

  The Dragon knight rode up. “What is it now?”

  “We can’t get him up.”