Blades of the Old Empire (27 page)

“You’re on, Kyth,” he said.

Kyth raised his head and saw Nimos ride toward them across the field, with a dozen men in his wake.

Nimos’s gaze narrowed as he saw Raishan and Egey Bashi. “
You
.”

“How did you two escape?” Haghos demanded, pulling up by Nimos’s side.

Egey Bashi smiled. “I guess you’ll never find out.”

“You just don’t give up, do you?” the ex-reverend’s voice rang with anger.

“No.”

“And you, Aghat,” Haghos turned to Raishan. “I thought you’d had enough. I guess we should have killed you after all.”

Raishan remained still, but his sword arm tensed.

Kyth took care to stay behind and remain as inconspicuous as he could. He was tired and weak, but he pushed the weakness away and focused on the wind. He opened up and let it in, enjoying the sense of lightness it gave to his body, the strength it filled him with. The feeling came easier this time. Kyth balanced it, shaping it into a focus of power that hung in front of him like an invisible spearhead.

Nimos’s eyes flashed toward Mai’s still shape, stretched on the ground on the other side of the fire. His dark gaze lit up with triumph. “He was one of your best, wasn’t he?”

“He still is,” Raishan said calmly.

“Perhaps,” Nimos agreed. “But not for long. I’ve seen his injuries, Aghat. There’s no need to bluff. He is dying because he couldn’t stand up to us. One minor blow would kill him, and I don’t think even the Keepers’ cures could save his life. Do you want to end up the same?”

Raishan measured him with a quick glance, then looked further at the men behind him. Kyth couldn’t help noticing that the row of hooded figures looked sparse compared to the impressive force that had attacked and captured them two days ago. Raishan was clearly of the same opinion.

“Are these all of your men still able to stay in the saddle?” he asked.

“These are all the horses we could catch at short notice,” Nimos replied, “but more are coming. Rest assured, Aghat Raishan, we are well prepared.”

“I doubt it.”

Nimos drew himself up, but his posture looked just a touch less confident than before.

“By the way,” he said. “I distinctly remember that your Guildmaster gave us his word, backed by a considerable sum of gold, that no Majat would interfere with our mission to capture Prince Kythar. Aren’t you violating your orders by standing up to us?”

“This has nothing to do with Prince Kythar,” Raishan said. “I am protecting a Guild member.”

Nimos smiled. “No problem then. You give us Prince Kythar, and we won’t touch your Guild member, how about that? With the condition he’s in, I doubt he’d be of any value to us anyway.”

Raishan shook his head. “As it happens, I wouldn’t be able to stand up to you without Prince Kythar’s help. So, I’m afraid I can’t oblige.”

“Are you sure you can stand up to us
with
his help?”

Raishan shrugged. “I see only one way to find out.”

Nimos turned back to his men. “Get the boy!” he ordered.

The riders raised their bows, aiming them at Kyth. The three Kaddim Brothers in front stretched their hands, sending a blast of power toward Raishan.

Kyth tried to ignore the approaching arrows, a dark cloud closing in too fast to focus on. Balancing his invisible spear over Raishan’s head, he met the blast of Kaddim power head-on. The spearhead cut through it, peeling the sticky folds away from the Majat.

Raishan’s sword swept across, cutting the arrows in mid air. His free hand darted to the belt and came up with a pack of throwing knives. He released them one by one, a continuous streak of steel flying off his palm. Through the waves of the force Kyth could see men swaying in their saddles, grasping at wounded arms, or doubling over with more serious injuries, as Raishan’s knives reached their targets. In one sweep, the line of the combat-effective attackers was reduced by half. The few that remained looked hesitant.

Nimos uttered a short curse and released the pressure, looking at his disabled bowmen. Before he could say a command, Raishan leapt forward. The tip of his sword skimmed along the line of horses with a long, smooth movement. His hand darted to his belt again and came up with a short whip. He lashed it at Haghos. The Kaddim’s horse reared, and the other two shied sideways, scrambling to get out of the way.

Nimos was the fastest to react, jumping down before his gear slid off, dangling with the cut saddle straps. Farros followed, steadying himself against the horse’s side. But Haghos wasn’t able to recover the fall. He went straight down onto his back with the saddle and gear landing on top. The uninjured men at the back rushed to his aid.

Nimos and Farros drew curved sabers from the sheaths at their backs and fanned out, advancing on Raishan. They were moving at a slight crouch, fast and graceful like the best swordsmen Kyth had ever seen. He prayed that the combined skill of the two of them together wasn’t a match for a Diamond.

The Majat’s face showed nothing but calm concentration. Fending off Nimos on one side, he lashed out his whip in Farros’s direction. The force of it flattened the front of Farros’s robe before the tip came through and hit him on the cheek. The Kaddim gasped, clasping a hand to his face.

Orbens swept at Raishan from all sides as the other attackers recovered. He slid between the weapons, crowding on Farros who was clearly having trouble keeping up. Raishan seemed so intent on finishing the job that for a moment it looked as if he had forgotten all about the attackers at his back. Nimos saw the opportunity at once. He leapt forward, launching a powerful thrust.

Just as the blade was about to hit, Raishan stepped out of the way with dizzying speed. The blade continued on without resistance, and hit Farros in the chest.

There was a collective gasp as the wounded Kaddim stumbled backward, clasping hands to his chest. Nimos’s eyes flared with anger. But Raishan didn’t slow down. His blade snaked around Nimos’s sabers, coming through at an impossible speed. There was a screech and both blades flew out of Nimos’s hands. The man edged back, Raishan’s sword point touching his throat.

In the ensuing silence, weapons lowered everywhere in sight. The men watched the scene in horror.

“We give up,” Nimos said.

“Kill him, Aghat Raishan!” Egey Bashi shouted. “This is no time for chivalry.”

Raishan hesitated. Nimos used that moment to move toward his unsaddled horse. He mounted it in a frantic leap and steadied himself with visible difficulty. His men followed the unspoken signal, helping their injured comrades onto the horses.

“You don’t understand, Magister, do you?” Nimos said. “You can’t kill a servant of Ghaz Kadan. We’ll come back more powerful than you ever imagine.”

He turned his horse and threw it into a gallop. The others followed. Soon their shapes turned into a cloud of dust on the horizon.

Raishan lowered his sword, watching. Then he turned back to the camp. The Majat’s breath was uneven, suggesting that the fight wasn’t as easy as it had looked. Kyth relaxed, laying down the invisible spearhead, letting the power out of his body to be replaced by weakness. Raishan met his eyes with a nod of acknowledgment.

“Why didn’t you kill him, Aghat?” Egey Bashi demanded. “You had a chance and you–”

“He was unarmed,” Raishan said, a touch more forcefully than necessary. “And he surrendered.”

“This man’s scheming has almost killed the two best Diamonds of your Guild, Aghat! One is now an outcast, and either of them might still die.”

Raishan paused.

“He did something to you, didn’t he?” Egey Bashi said. “He used some other power, something Prince Kythar missed, to stay your hand.”

Raishan shrugged. “I’m not sure. You have to understand, Magister. We must avoid killing at all cost, unless it’s a part of an assignment.”

“But–”

“That said,” Raishan went on, “I did feel strange for a moment. When he said he surrendered, I–”

Egey Bashi studied him intently. “Some of the Kaddim were rumored to have a rarer power, one that clouded people’s judgment so subtly it was hard to detect. It is rumored that this power – an extremely difficult one to wield – is nearly impossible to resist.” He glanced at Kyth.

“Perhaps,” Raishan said. “But if so, it was very subtle indeed. It just made sense to spare his life. In any case, it doesn’t matter now, they’re gone. And I don’t think we should expect them back any time soon. Not while Kyth’s with us.” He bent down to collect his throwing knives.

“I believe,” Egey Bashi said, “we were about to have some tea.”

He threw a handful of leaves into the boiling kettle and poured out three mugs, handing them around. Kyth sipped the tart, heady liquid that rolled through his body with pleasant warmth. He felt so weak even sitting straight was an effort, but he forced himself to stay upright, chewing on the dry meat ration that Raishan took out of his bag. This one didn’t have any unusual herbs in it, bringing no relief for his fatigue, only heaviness to his tired limbs.

Kyth was about to lie down when Mai stirred and opened his eyes. He struggled to rise on his elbow and moved his gaze around the group, his eyes aglow with a feverish gleam.

“What did I miss?” he asked. He spoke slowly, as if he was about to fall asleep.

Raishan turned to face him. The vertical line was back on his forehead.

“Some of your friends came by, Aghat. But they’re gone now. I don’t think they’ll be bothering us for a while.”

Mai nodded, his expression making Kyth doubt he was really aware of his surroundings. Raishan put a hand on his forehead. He paused for a second, the line between his eyebrows becoming deeper. Then he turned to Egey Bashi.

“It’s starting,” he said quietly.

He carefully folded away the blanket covering Mai. The bandage on his chest had soaked through. Redness was spreading around the wound, lashing out along the skin in thin, narrow tongues.

“Lie back, Aghat,” Raishan said. “Let me take a look at your wound.”

Mai obeyed. His eyes had an absent expression. It wasn’t clear if he was aware of what was going on. Egey Bashi moved over and sat on the other side, watching Raishan peel off the bandage to expose the injured flesh. Its deadly leaden color was back. As far as Kyth could tell, it wasn’t healing at all.

“Do the Keepers have any remedy for
that
?” Raishan asked.

The Magister hesitated. “One. But you’re not going to like it.” He reached into his medicine pouch, took out a small flat vial and handed it to Raishan. The Majat took it and unscrewed the lid, carefully smelling the contents. Then he closed it and stared at the Keeper with a shocked expression.

“
Black Death?
Are you out of your mind, Magister?”

“I’m afraid we don’t have much choice, Aghat.”

Raishan shook his head. “This poison’s not only deadly, but there’s no antidote to it. If you want to kill him, why not just stab him through the heart to spare him the agony?”

Egey Bashi smiled. “What you say is true, Aghat, but there’s one thing about this poison, not commonly known. Taken in small doses, it counters the effects of severe infections. It’s rough, but given Aghat Mai’s injuries, I’d say we have nothing to lose. He’ll die for certain if we don’t do anything. But if we get the dose right, he might survive.”

“
Might
?”

“It’s the best I can offer, Aghat. Believe me, I understand how precious his life is to your Guild. This is exactly why I think we should try.”

“It’s not about his worth to the Guild. He’s one of the best fighters in existence. We can’t afford to gamble with his life!”

Mai woke up from his daze and pushed Raishan’s hands away, struggling to sit upright. Raishan moved to stop him, but Egey Bashi held him back. He reached over and handed Mai a mug of tea.

The Majat took it and drank. Then he lowered it and looked at the Keeper. He seemed unsure of where he was.

“How are you feeling, Aghat?” Egey Bashi asked.

Mai appeared to consider it. “Hot. I think.”

“Your wound is infected,” the Keeper told him. “It’s poisoning your blood. You know what this means, don’t you, Aghat?”

Mai looked down to his chest. His hollow cheeks burned with feverish color.

“I bet even the Keepers have no cure for this one.” He sounded almost sane as he said it, but in a moment his gaze became absent again. He looked around for the blanket and pulled it over himself, shivering.

“You bet wrong,” Egey Bashi told him. “We do.”

He showed Mai a small vial. The Majat looked at it absently. He clearly had difficulty concentrating.

“My cure,” Egey Bashi said, “is Black Death.”

Mai seemed to have lost track of the conversation. He stared at the vial in the Keeper’s hand, then looked away toward the fire.

“It will make you sick for a while,” Egey Bashi went on. “You may not survive. But as far as I know it’s your best chance. What do you say, Aghat?”

Mai smiled. His eyes gleamed, and for a moment he looked alert, almost normal. “I feel lucky. Why not?” He wrapped the blanket tighter around himself and lay back.

Raishan gave the Keeper a dark look. “He’s delirious. I don’t think he really understood you.”

Egey Bashi shrugged. “You can’t make this decision for him, Aghat Raishan. And neither can I. Like you said, none of us has the right to gamble with his life. His word is all we have to go on. Chances are low either way, but at least if we follow his wish, we’d be doing
something
.”

Raishan hesitated, but Kyth could tell he was giving in.

Egey Bashi poured new tea into the mug, filling it halfway, and opened his vial. He added one very small drop and mixed it carefully into the liquid. Then he leaned over Mai.

“Can you understand me, Aghat?” he asked.

Mai’s eyes searched around and fixed on his face. “What do you want?”

The Keeper held the mug out to him. “You must drink this all the way to the bottom.”

Mai struggled and pulled himself up, but the effort was clearly costing him a lot of strength. Raishan hurried to support him. Kyth watched, mesmerized. It was frightening to see Mai in such a state. In a way it was more frightening than seeing him unconscious.

Mai took the mug and stared into it. Then he sniffed it.

“Drink it,” Egey Bashi prompted.

Mai met his gaze. “Is it going to hurt?”