Blades of the Old Empire (8 page)

She didn’t remember how she made it to the place where, instead of wood and waxed rope, there was real soil under her feet. Mai’s hands disappeared. Ellah’s knees gave way and she sank to the ground, sobbing.

After a while she felt arms around her, soothing, calming, but different. A voice sounded close by her ear.

“It’s all right,” Mother Keeper said. “It’s over. You’re safe.”

Slowly, Ellah raised her head and forced herself to look. She knew they were probably all watching her now, thinking how stupid and useless she was. She couldn’t bear the shame of having everyone see her like this, her face swollen with tears. Not after she had been such a
coward
and needed rescue where everyone else was fine.

To her surprise, Mother Keeper was alone.

“Where’s everyone gone?” Ellah asked, her voice hoarse with tears.

“There’s a clearing up ahead,” Mother Keeper said. “They’re setting up camp.”

“But–” Ellah turned to look into the older woman’s eyes.

Mother Keeper smiled. “I think,” she said gently, “we’ve all had enough excitement for one day.”

Ellah lowered her head. “Aghat Mai risked his life for me. I did nothing to deserve it. He must think I am so–”

“Human?”

Ellah stared.

“It’s normal to be afraid of heights,” Mother Keeper said. “I myself was very afraid of heights once, a long time ago. At home, I couldn’t even stand on a stool to get dishes from the top shelf.”

“
You
?” Ellah looked at her in disbelief.

Mother Keeper’s smile widened. “Yes.”

“But–”

“We all have our weaknesses.” The older woman shook her head. “It would be foolish of Aghat Mai to think badly of you just because of what happened. I think you’ll agree with me that whatever else he is, he definitely isn’t foolish.”

“But he…” Ellah paused. How could she possibly say this? That he held her so close that their bodies felt like one, and that this breathtaking closeness made her forget everything, even the danger she was in. That he led her like a horse, blindfolded and trusting, ready to follow him anywhere, even to the ends of the world. She met the older woman’s eyes, feeling helpless with the new sensation, for which she had no name.

“He did what he could to save you,” Mother Keeper said. “And he succeeded. This is all that matters, and all that you should remember from this incident. Don’t think that if you’re weak somewhere you can’t be strong in other things. And, above all, don’t let your weaknesses weigh down your strengths.”

She got up from the ground and shook the grass off her clothes.

“Now, come,” she said. “I can smell Odara’s cooking. Dinner must be ready soon.”

She walked off along the path into the gathering dusk. Ellah hastily got to her feet and followed.

Ellah found Mai at the edge of the camp. He was sitting on the ground behind a large elderberry bush, polishing his weapon. She stopped a few paces away, waiting for him to acknowledge her presence, but he was deeply absorbed in his task and showed no awareness of her.

Finally, she cleared her throat.

“I wanted to thank you,” she said.

There was another long pause, in which she started to doubt if he knew she was there. His eyes were half-closed as he ran his polishing stone in turn along each blade at the ends of his staff, listening to the resulting sound.

Ellah was beginning to wonder whether she should just leave, when he finally raised his head and looked up at her.

“No need.” He set aside his polishing stone and took out a piece of soft cloth, running it along the length of his weapon. The new procedure was soundless, but seemed to absorb his attention no less than the previous task. Ellah felt very tempted to retreat back to the fireside, where everyone else gathered to discuss the events of the day, but stopped herself. She
had
to go through with it.

She took a deep breath.

“You could have died,” she said. “I could’ve pulled you off balance. If we both fell, there would have been nothing you could’ve done. And, I know you didn’t have to do it. I know your duty is to protect King Evan, not me.”

She paused. Now it
really
felt like a good time to retreat. If she turned and ran, she wouldn’t even have to see his face when he looked up. She wouldn’t have to know if he thought of her the same way as she imagined herself this afternoon, a foolish coward with no more sense than a horse.

She clenched her teeth and stood her ground.

Mai slowly put aside his polishing cloth and raised his head to look her straight in the eyes. To her surprise, he was smiling.

“You couldn’t have pulled me off balance,” he said.

She stood back, unsure of what to say.

“Like I said,” he went on. “There’s no need for you to thank me. It was no trouble at all.”

She looked into his eyes. It suddenly felt so easy talking to him, as if he was one of the youngsters she grew up with.

“Whatever you say,” she said. “But even if it was no trouble for you, you
did
save my life. So, I wanted to thank you. Really. And,” she glanced at his weapon lying beside him on the grass, “I’m sorry for interrupting.”

She turned to go, but his gaze held her.

“Want to sit down?” he asked, gesturing to a place next to him.

Her heart quivered. She approached on stiff legs and sat, conscious to keep a clear distance from him. She was careful to look ahead and not at him, but she could feel his eyes on her. It was almost too much to take.

“So,” he said after a lengthy pause, in which Ellah’s cheeks made it through several shades of pink to a steady red color. “Tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?” Ellah heard herself say.

He didn’t respond. After a moment she dared a glance and caught his eyes. His gaze was steady, so direct that it made her feel exposed as if she was naked. Yet, she couldn’t look away. His quiet interest held her tighter than any bond.

“You’re Prince Kythar’s friend,” Mai said. It wasn’t a question, but since he didn’t continue, she felt like an answer was needed.

“We grew up together,” she said.

He nodded, glancing at the distant campfire through the thick elderberry growth, and back to her face. “So, how come you’re not traveling with him?”

She hesitated. She really wasn’t sure what to tell Mai. Even if she was starting to believe she had the gift, it didn’t seem right to share it with a near stranger. On the other hand, this man
did
save her life. She owed him a huge debt. At the very least, he deserved to know more about her.

“Mother Keeper asked me to go with her,” she said.

“Why?”

“Because,” Ellah took a breath, “she thinks I have a… a talent and she wants to help me learn to use it.”

His eyes lit up with keen interest. “You mean, magic?”

“Sort of.” Why was it so hard not to blush?

“What kind?”

“I can sense whether someone says the truth. At least, Mother Keeper thinks I can.”

“Can you?”

She hesitated. “Most of the time. But not always.”

He gave her a long look. “That’s how you knew those men back on the main road weren’t the Holy Knights?”

She nodded.

“So, you’re going to become a Keeper?”

His smile challenged. It made her want to impress him. But she couldn’t lie to him now, could she?

“No,” she said. “I’m just along for a few lessons.”

His expression didn’t change. She wasn’t sure what he thought, but the look in his eyes had her trapped.

“So, you can really sense the truth?” he asked.

She swallowed. “Yes.”

“Let’s try,” he suggested. “You ask me something and see if I tell you the truth.”

“Ask you what?”

The smile faded from his lips and for a moment he looked almost serious.

“Anything. Anything at all.”

“And you’ll answer?”

“Yes.”

She thought about it. “How old are you?”

The smile was back, teasing, challenging. It made him look even younger than he already seemed.

“Twenty-four,” he said.

She looked at his face, at his smooth skin, at the soft blond curls and the slim body that made him seem so much like a young boy. She could have sworn he was not much older than her, nineteen at most.

“Really?”

“You tell me.” He laughed.

She hesitated. It was certainly possible. Despite his boyish looks, he had to be quite a bit older than Ellah to get a Diamond ranking among the Majat and serve as the head of the King’s personal guard for the past four years. And yet–

See the colors
, she reminded herself. Red or pink if he was lying. Blue or green if he was telling the truth.

She closed her eyes, trying to focus his words into the color palette.

The color filling her mind was purple. She strained her inner vision, but there were no other colors.

“I – I don’t know,” she finally said.

He laughed. “What about your power? Can’t you use it?”

She met his eyes. “I just… I can’t tell.”

“Let’s try one more time,” he suggested.

His direct look was difficult to bear. She suddenly felt like she did back on the bridge, with his arms around her, and his muscle hard against her skin. The draw was irresistible like the draw of the wind pulling her over into the abyss.

She looked up at him helplessly. His face was serious, but in the depth of his eyes she saw laughter.

Mother Keeper’s words floated up in her mind.
He’s a hired killer, cold-blooded and ruthless. If he gives you any attention, it’s either for his amusement or to serve some hidden purpose.

Looking at Mai, at his handsome face, at his graceful form and soft blond curls, she couldn’t believe it. But now she had a chance to find out.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked.

He kept her gaze. “Doing what?”

She took a deep breath. “Acting like… like you
care
.”

He didn’t respond at once. He continued to look at her. Except, there was no more laughter in his eyes.

“Maybe because I do?” he said quietly.

She felt dizzy. Now she almost wished for him to laugh, to show her that it was a joke. Yet another, deeper part of her wished that it was true and that she could once again fall into his arms and feel the closeness that made them, for a moment back on the bridge, feel like one. But he didn’t move. He just sat there, his gaze comforting and disquieting at the same time.

“Don’t,” she whispered. “Don’t do this. You can’t possibly mean it.”

“Can’t you tell?”

She looked deeper into his eyes, feeling that she was losing hold. The purple color filled her mind, overpowering all the rest.

“No,” she whispered.

“Use your power.”

She only shook her head.

His gaze wavered and became normal again, laughter dancing in its depths.

“One last question,” he said. “Make it easy this time.”

She took a breath, forcing herself to calm down.

“How many people have you killed?” she asked.

Once again, there was a flicker of seriousness before she saw laughter back in his eyes.

“About two hundred,” he said.

Colors. See the colors.
Ellah focused, trying to see past his words like Mother Keeper taught her. She closed her eyes and relaxed, trying to distance herself from his eyes that rested so boldly on her blushing face. Yet, the only color she could see was purple.

She opened her eyes.

“I don’t know,” she said. “Somehow, with you, I can’t tell.”

There was a gleam in the depth of his eyes. For a brief moment she thought she saw triumph, but she dismissed the thought. What could he possibly gain from her confession?

She felt exhausted. Even if Mai
did
care, she had enough sense to know that there was an abyss as deep as the one they crossed today between caring for someone and being close. She had no business playing these games with a Diamond Majat. She wasn’t a romantic like Kyth. She should know better.

Yet, never in her life had she felt the way she was feeling now. Everything inside her was turning over with this new, frightening and blissful feeling.

“This man, Nimos, is really strange,” Alder said. “His behavior doesn’t make any sense. I mean, he
knows
he doesn’t have enough force to attack us. Why bother to show himself twice in a row and alert us to his bad intentions?”

For a while no one responded to the question, busy as they were with the meal – wild duck wrapped in clay and baked over the coals. Kyth had been skeptical about the recipe, watching with distaste as Kara and Raishan spread mud over the feathers, not bothering even to pluck the bird beforehand. But when the duck was fished out of the coals and the baked clay removed, the feathers came off with it to reveal the skin roasted to a perfect golden brown. The meat, carved into pieces and sprinkled by a fragrant spice from Raishan’s pack, was surprisingly tender. It was their best meal in days.

“He must be desperate if he’s willing to offer us so much gold just for leaving Prince Kythar without protection,” Raishan said.

Egey Bashi lowered his bowl, his eyes thoughtful. “It seemed to me Nimos had something else in mind. Did you see the way he looked at Kara?”

“Yes.” Kyth’s voice came out more forcefully than he intended. He bit his lip, hiding his embarrassment by staring into the fire. One question continued to bother him all this time. Did his gift help Kara to become immune to the Kaddim? When he looked at her and thought of his feelings toward her, did he transfer some of his resistance to her?

He was still thinking of it when he went to sleep, sinking into a disturbing dream where hooded figures with orbens crowded in on him from all sides.

When he woke up, dawn had already lit up the horizon in the east. Alder was still sleeping, but Kara’s and Egey Bashi’s cots were empty. Raishan was busy by the fire. A faint streak of smoke carried the reassuring smell of burning wood and the promise of a hot breakfast. Splashing and voices came from the creek down at the bottom of a shallow ravine beside the camp. Kyth jumped to his feet and made his way down the muddy slope.

This close to the Ridges, the stream was fast and much too cold for comfort. The chill emanated by the water enfolded him as he approached. Kara rose up to greet him, shaking back her wet hair. The halo of droplets around her head caught the rising sunlight and burst out in tiny rainbows. Then it was gone as she smoothed down her hair, squeezing out the water. She looked so beautiful, her dark skin lit up by the glow of the rising sun, wet hair resting against her neck in a smooth golden wave.

“Too cold,” she remarked. “Makes your hands stiff.”

“Damned right,” Egey Bashi said from beside a deeper pool further downstream. He had his robe off, his hairy muscular torso naked down to the waist. Steam rose off his skin as he dipped his arms into the water, splashing it over his back.

Kara stepped aside, letting Kyth on to the flat patch of the bank where the protruding stones formed a path, reaching the deeper part of the stream. Kyth met her gaze as he walked by and caught her brief smile. He smiled back, but she had already turned away, heading up the muddy bank back to the camp.

The water was indeed icy cold and as Kyth splashed it onto his face and hair his hands went numb. He hastily finished washing. As he stood up and turned away from the brook, he saw Magister Egey Bashi standing there, watching.

“Are you all right, Highness?” he asked.

Kyth hesitated. Since the start of the trip he never found time alone with the Keeper. And now, finally, he had a chance for some answers to questions that had been troubling him for a while.

“Can I ask you something, Magister?” he said.

Egey Bashi nodded.

Kyth swallowed. “Why do you think the Kaddim are after me?”

Egey Bashi’s face darkened. “I can only guess, Highness. I can’t know for certain.”

“But you do have an idea, don’t you, Magister? I could see it in your eyes when I first told you and my father about the Kaddim’s attack.”

The Keeper shook his head. “Guessing serves no purpose, does it?”

Kyth met his eyes. “Please, Magister. You think I’m facing something terrible. It is important for me to know what it is.”

“Very well, Highness.” The Keeper spoke with reluctance, averting his eyes. “My guessing amounts to little until we know for sure – and I hope we never will – but here’s what I know. The Kaddim’s magic is very old and powerful. Their ability to subdue their opponents is only a small part of it. Their leader – rumored to be the reincarnation of Ghaz Kadan himself – has the power to absorb magic through a long and torturous process that destroys the original bearer of the gift.”

Kyth shivered. “You think they’re after my gift?”

The Keeper nodded. “Your gift, Highness, has to do with controlling the elemental powers. No one knows how it really works, but combined with the Kaddim magic of mind control, it would give them command of virtually everything in this world. These gifts complete each other, multiplying the Kaddim power to make them undefeatable. There would be no stopping them if they succeed.”

Kyth shivered. “But even with the gift, someone immune to their power can kill them, right?” He thought of Kara and the way Nimos looked at her. Did her immunity make her enough of a threat to the Kaddim?

Egey Bashi frowned. “Something not commonly known about the Kaddim is their ability to reincarnate. Even though their bodies can be killed, they are technically undead.”

“But we saw a man die in the castle’s dungeons after Kaddim Tolos’s attack.”

The Magister shook his head. “That man wasn’t a Kaddim Brother. He was a servant, no more. The true Kaddim Brothers are very few, but they are rumored to have survived in different bodies for centuries, ever since the fall of the old Shandorian Empire, whose last emperor was a Kaddim Reincarnate. If the Brotherhood is on the rise, he is also around somewhere, you can be sure of it.”

Kyth nodded, his mouth dry. He hoped he wasn’t going to create a dark page in his kingdom’s history by surrendering his gift – and his life – to the Kaddim. Would Kara’s protection be enough to spare him such a fate?

They returned to camp and, after a quick breakfast, set out on their way.

During the day the road slowly ascended to the higher grounds, making the horses shift from a trot to a slow walk. The jagged line of the distant Ridges became more substantial, looming in the northwest. In the clear air Kyth imagined he saw snow peaks on the horizon, ghostly shapes above the line of the distant clouds.

The trees became scarcer, hazel groves giving way to sickly, crooked mountain oaks rising here and there out of the yellowing grass. Protruding boulders painted the surrounding fields with brown and gray spots. The sun was hot but the wind was getting cooler, forcing them to wrap tighter in their cloaks.

Watching the road ahead, Kyth slowly became aware of a distant patch of greenery, getting more and more visible as they drew closer. It looked like a green grove of oaks, healthier and fuller than their sickly counterparts scattered around the hills. Kyth imagined he could make out houses among the growth, their domed roofs as gray as the boulders around them. Smoke coiled out of the low chimneys, mixing with the afternoon haze.

Kyth rose in his stirrups to see further ahead.

“Is that a village?” Alder asked by his side.

“Middledale,” Raishan said. “There’re hot springs around this place. Very popular with travelers going up to the Ridges. For a moderate price you can get a room with your own bath.”

This seemed too good to be true.

“Are we going to stop there for the night?” Alder asked hopefully.

Raishan and Kara exchanged glances.

“We were planning to be further ahead by now,” Raishan said. “But horses are not as good on the uphill as lizardbeasts. I guess we could use the break.”

In another half hour they neared the outer buildings of the strange settlement. Kyth looked around in wonder.

Low, domed houses rose out of the ground in front of them like giant rain mushrooms. Some buildings consisted of several mushrooms planted side by side, connected by passages and spreading around for a hundred yards each way. Their outside walls were half-hidden by the thick, fleshy crowns of the mountain oaks, whose low thick trunks heavy with lichen sprouted multiple branches in every direction. Each dome had a smoking chimney, but up close Kyth could see that the smoke rising out of them looked more like steam, settling in water droplets over the surrounding greenery.

“Where’s the moisture coming from?” Alder wondered.

“Each house has a hot spring inside,” Raishan told him. They need no other heating source here. In fact, it can get downright hot at times.”

They rode to a larger building toward the middle of the settlement, whose battered sign with a foaming mug on it identified it as an inn. The words underneath it were covered in lichen, making it impossible to read.

Warm fog enfolded the large vaulted space of the inn’s common room. Scant daylight found its way through the narrow windows, leaving the dome overhead in shadows. Tables surrounded with sturdy wooden chairs filled the space as far as the eye could see. Some of the tables were set with lanterns, flickering with small tongues of flame.

As Kyth’s eyes adjusted to the gloom he realized that the center of the room was occupied by a stone basin, where water bubbled and poured over the edges, running along a narrow paved trench into an opening of the wall at the far end. He also realized that the smell of boiled eggs with a faint touch of rot that dominated the room came from the basin itself and not from any of the dishes on the customers’ plates.

There were very few customers. A large group of men wearing patched travel cloaks sat all the way on the other side, partly hidden from view by the vapors rising from the basin. Several lone figures occupied small tables with lit lanterns along the wall. The rest of the room was empty.

“Let’s find a table,” Raishan said. “Once we’re settled, Master Olren will be sure to show up.”

They sat around a table and threw down their gear. Kyth’s clothes and hair were slowly getting damp in the humid air, but the warmth emanated by the water in the basin was a welcome change from the bitter wind outside.

The innkeeper emerged from the depth of the room and stopped in front of the table. He was short and slim, with thick brown hair and pale gray eyes, wearing an oversized apron over a baggy brown outfit and carrying a damp towel over his shoulder. As he paused to survey the newcomers, he used the edge of the towel to wipe his forehead.

“Welcome, Master Raishan,” Master Olren said. His northern speech, with hard vowels and softer consonants, told of the man’s local upbringing. “Such a pleasure to have you back with us.”

Raishan nodded in acknowledgment.

“We’ll have whatever you’re serving today,” he said. “And a pitcher of ale.”

“And rooms later on?”

“Please.” Raishan flicked a coin out of his purse and handed it to the innkeeper.

Kyth knew the ritual. These small coins that looked like no more than simple coppers came from the Majat Fortress and had a lot of buying power throughout the lands. The price was included in the Majat’s services, making it unnecessary for Kyth to reach into his own purse. The innkeeper took the coin with a solemn face and put it away with such care as if it was a precious gem.

Today’s meal was a thick goat stew with herbs that gave the dish a slightly bitter taste. It seemed unusual at first, but became better with every bite. By the time Kyth finished his bowlful, he was ready for more. The bread that came with it was dark and sour, but made a perfect accompaniment for the stew. The brew was sweet and smelled of honey. It rolled through the body with warmth, making Kyth realize how tired he was after days of intense riding.

When they were almost finished with their meal, they saw movement in the large group of men seated on the other side of the room. One of them got up from the table and walked over.

As he made his way through the fog, his features became more and more familiar. With a sinking heart, Kyth recognized the slight build, short brown hair standing around his head, hollow cheeks, and dark shadows of the eye sockets.

Nimos came up to their table and stopped beside an empty chair.

“Long time, no see!” he exclaimed. “Fancy running into all of you here. Mind if I sit down for a moment?”

“Yes,” Kara said distinctly. “I mind.”

The man looked her up and down in such a suggestive way that Kyth’s stomach turned.

“Oh, come now, it won’t even be a minute.” Nimos put his hand onto the chair back and made a move to sit down.

Kara reached down to her belt in a sweepingly fast gesture, bringing out a fan of throwing knives. Her look became appraising as she balanced the entire pack in her hand, blades out. Then, with a short flick of her wrist, she sent them flying across the table. Knives whizzed through the air and arrived, hitting their target with dry thuds. Everyone gasped.

Nimos backed away from the chair, his face pale. From where he sat Kyth could see the chair seat covered in protruding knife hilts, sticking out of the wood at even intervals that made the chair look like a balding porcupine. Kyth counted twelve knives, their blades buried deep into the wood.

It took incredible skill and strength to one-handedly throw so many knives at once. It took even more to have them all go in at such even intervals and penetrate the wood so deeply. Kyth knew how hard it was to provoke the usually composed Kara into such a display. He glanced at her sidelong, but she looked calm as she leaned back into her chair.

Nimos looked up. Behind the shock, there was a strange satisfaction in his face.

“Impressive,” he said. “I must learn that trick one day.”

“I have more knives, right here,” Kara said. “It seems, however, that there isn’t much room left on the chair. I’d need another target for the next throw. Want to stick around for a moment?”

Nimos cocked his head to one side. “I was hoping you’d reconsidered my offer, Aghat. We did, after all, leave you alone for quite a few days now. As we’re all getting close to the Majat Fortress–”

She flicked out the knives. Nimos backed off.

“Only six left,” Kara said. “But I think it would be enough if I only target the vital organs. In fact, I could probably make do with two.”

Nimos swallowed. “I guess this means we will have to do things the
other
way, then. Well, maybe it’s all for the best. After all, this way will allow us to see so much more of each other, Aghat Kara. I shall look forward to it.”