Eyes of the Alchemist (17 page)

Legs apart and fists resting on hips he contemplated her. He couldn’t understand her thinking. Did she not feel the need to purge the land of evil-doers? “My enemies will not escape me.”

“Your quest is not to kill. It’s to save life,” she reminded him.

The effort to hide his fury made him shake. “I know what my quest is, and nothing will prevent me from carrying it out.”

“Then you don’t need me?”

His lip curled. He could not deny to himself his need for her. The thought of her was with him every tix of every day. He needed her as slave to his body, his heart and his soul. He tasted her in the air, smelt her perfume with every breath. She visited his every dream and filled the corners of his existence.

He shook his head as if the act would dislodge her from his mind. Like every other woman, she wanted to hear that she’d enslaved him.
Not from his lips!
He smiled thinly at her. “You forget the prophecy. Of course I need you.”

He caught her hand as she lashed out at him. “Lady mine, to lift a hand to chastise your Lord carries with it the death penalty.”

“Then kill me,” she spat out.

It would be easy. His finger traced an arc around her jaw and stopped. Beneath his finger a pulse throbbed with life. Kill her, when he’d gone to so much effort to get her? He’d been celibate by choice since he’d set eyes on her, which had amused his troopers no end. Either Tiana had more courage than brains, or was too confident of her attraction over him if she thought she could talk to him thus.

“I have other plans for you,” he said, and pushed her towards Shazah.

She kicked out at him. “I don’t want to ride with you, barbarian.”

“You have no choice.” And he’d had enough! He threw her over Shazah’s back and brought his hand lightly down on her rump a couple of times. The cry she gave was from the shock of chastisement rather than any pain he’d inflicted. She fell silent, but her eyes blazed into his when he hauled her upright. Mounting behind her, he smiled as he spurred Shazah up into the storm. That would teach her not to push him too far. After a while, she turned her face into his chest, but she spoke not another word to him.

They were joined by the rest of the troop, who stood by a little way off, and were escorted back to the forest. Caught up in their exuberance at his safe return, Kavan was carried high on the troopers’ shoulders, tossed into the air and jibed about his rescuer.

From the corner of his eyes he watched Tiana go, stumbling off into the forest with Santo and the two watchers supporting her. Her face was white and strained.

His heart ached to comfort her. He freed himself from his troopers and hurried after her. Santo stood in his path. “Every time Tiana heals she gives part of herself to the recipient. She risked her life to save yours and you repaid her with abuse.”

“It was a mere tap. It meant nothing. I’ll tell her so.”

“You have robbed her of her dignity, would you also take her pride? What is done cannot be undone. She’s tired, leave her alone.” He held out a closed fist and slowly opened it. In his palm nestled a glowing, green object. “She asked me to give you this.”

When he picked the bauble up his heart leapt into his throat. It was cool to his touch, alive, like a ripple of liquid in his palm. “The water stone,” he said wonderingly. “How did she come by it?”

“It was a precious gift of love from her mother.”

“Does that make it a precious gift of love to her lord and master?”

But Santo had gone, and the forest behind was dark and quiet, as if it held its breath. She’d been embraced by its darkness, had been accepted and trusted by the creatures that knew its secret ways. He might never get her back, now, for the watchers guarded those they loved as their own. He had to put his quest first and at least Tiana was aware of its importance, he thought, securing the pendant around his neck.

She’s reminding me of its purpose
.

He put the uncomfortable thought behind him when Torma joined him, and said. “We must secure the manor before the night is over, Lord.”

Kavan clapped a hand on his most trusted friend’s shoulder. “I should not have chastised Tiana in such a manner.”

“No, Lord, you should not have.”

“She thinks me a savage, a barbarian. This will only reinforce her opinion.”

Torma grinned at him. “Lady Tiana has wisdom beyond her years and a way with words that wins the imagination, if not the heart.”

“Being rescued by a woman was undignified,” Kavan grumbled, “and you’re siding with her.”

“Yes, Lord, I am taking her side. Allow me to remind you that death by dragon bat is more undignified, and the fact that she pits her will against yours is the only defense she has. You should woo Lady Tiana with softness and pretty words, not brute force. Maids like their suitors to be poets, even if the expressed sentiments cover the real purpose of wooing.”

Kavan nodded. “It’s true that soft words and actions go a long way. A man should expect a maid to be irrational about certain things, however deserved they might be. Despite her smallness her seat was well padded, so only her pride was hurt. She will bear my children easily, I think.”

A soft growl echoed in their ears, then a barrage of twigs and leaf debris powdered around them.

“My lady,” he called out, “Did you not know that an eavesdropper never hears flattery? I’ll learn how to please you eventually.”

“You couldn’t please a black-sighted hag in a thunderstorm, however hard you tried,” she mocked.

He and Torma looked at each other and grinned.

“I think she’s forgiven me,” Kavan said, and the pair threw their arms about each other’s shoulders and began to concentrate on the business of ridding the manor of the insurgents.

* * * *

Those servants loyal to Kavan had escaped earlier from the manor, creeping off into the night to take refuge in their homes or the surrounding countryside.

Of those few who chose to serve Kavan’s enemies, each woke to a dagger held to their throats, and were given only a moment to repent and regret before being efficiently disposed of. The troopers moved silently from room to room, their faces grim with the task of rooting out those guards who’d humiliated them.

They were just as efficient at dispatching their captors as Torma was being. Discovering Pannis dressed as a woman and hiding in the battlements, he mercifully sliced him open from head to abdomen. Vandrew’s heart failed under interrogation, but not before he’d told his tormentors everything they wanted to know. Kavan’s enemies were swiftly rounded up.

Rowena woke from her slumber to find Kavan gazing down at her. The blood drained from her face.

“Where’s General Saayer?” he growled.

Her face was full of loathing when she gazed up at him. “Gone.”

“Gone where?”

“He’s taken the fire stone to Bane. Beltane will resurrect the war demons with it, and Saayer will bring them back to defeat you.”

“When did he leave?”

“Last night.” Her smile was so smug he wanted to smash his fist into it. “What you’ve done is set in motion the destruction of the world. We’re on a collision course with Truarc. The fire stone is an essential component in the prevention of it.”

She examined a fingernail. “Beltane will not allow that to happen. If you wish to become a follower I can make sure you survive the invasion.”

“I would rather perish than be swayed from my quest.”

“So be it.” Malice filled her eyes and spilled from her mouth. “That Truarc maid you brought here will make fine sport for Beltane’s war demons.”

She cringed against the pillow when he drew his dagger and held the point against her jugular.

Barbarian, savage  . . . she’s your mother, she gave you life,
Tiana’s voice reminded him. He cursed his conscience and sheathed the weapon.

Despite the fright in her eyes,
Rowena smiled. “I knew you wouldn’t be able to kill your own mother.”

She was right, and Kavan bitterly regretted that fact. Tears in his eyes, he turned on his heel and left, nodding to the troopers who waited outside.

As soon as Kavan turned the corner, the trooper who’d drawn the short straw slipped inside the chamber. Rowena’s eyes widened when he handed her a small vial of liquid.

“What is this?” 

“You know what it is, Lady. Drink it . . . I guarantee you will not suffer.”

A few tix later the trooper caught up with his brothers-at-arms and slid unobtrusively into their midst.

* * * *

The market place was silent. The villagers peered from behind drawn curtains as carts came out with the dead. Bodies piled up, wood was stacked and torches thrown amongst it. Soaked in pine resin, the fire became a fierce, all-consuming conflagration that burned steadily throughout the day. It was a reminder to the Cabrilan people of the fate waiting for insurgents.

They watched a trooper head out on foot. He came back in a little while with Benlogan, the blind silversmith, and they disappeared inside the palace. Just before night fell, Kavan and the troopers left the battlements on their night chargers.

Running from their houses the villagers gazed upwards. An awed sigh went up. It was the first time they’d seen their lord in full battle dress. Kavan wore supple black leather jerkin and breeches, under breast and thigh plates fashioned from studded hide. His hair was dressed in a high braid twisted into a leather thong. Carried across his back, his sword was smeared in mud and water so the shine would not alert the enemy. Daggers and mace hung from his belt. He looked fearsome astride a black charger, his face painted with camouflage stripes, and his purple eyes glittering. 

His personal guards were similarly clad. They were joined by hundreds of other troopers who’d been hastily summoned from far-flung outposts by the drum- beaters, who lived within sound of each other along the route. The sky was thick with them. The down draught from the beating wings of the chargers scattered ash over the cobbles and filled the night with a whirring sound.

Kavan broke away and detoured towards the
High Place
. He took something from inside his tunic and dropped it to the ground before rejoining his army. A cheer went up when the troopers formed ranks and wheeled towards the north. Within minitix, the long column was out of sight.

Accompanied by the village crier, the silversmith tapped his way to the marketplace. The crier rang his bell. “Hear you one and all, the words of our lord’s advisor.”

The villagers gazed in bewilderment at one another when Benlogan stepped forward. “The attempt by the followers of Beltane to assassinate Lord Kavan has failed, and the traitors have been executed. Cabrilan will shortly be under attack from the war demons of Beltane. The troopers have ridden out to repel the challenge, but if the attackers get through we must fight them off with every weapon we have.”

A woman waved an iron skillet in the air. “I’ve heard them demons force themselves on every women they set their eyes on. I’ll give ‘em a good pasting with this if they come near my daughters.”

Benlogan held up a hand as a hubbub started. “Fill every vessel you have with water, soak your homes in it if you can. It’s said the demons cannot survive in water.” The village became a hive of activity with people bustling here and there. Night fell, a peculiar night lit by a red glow. When they looked up at the sky, the surface of Bane was a seething, bright red mass.

“Kavan has taken his troopers in the wrong direction,” a woman cried out in fear.

But even as she spoke, Cabrilan began its slow turn, ready for its final swing towards Truarc.

* * * *

The sight of Kavan in battle dress had set Tiana’s heart beating faster. He had a strangely calm look on his face and his mouth twitched into a wary smile when he caught a glimpse of her. He dropped something, blew her a kiss and flew away.

The something was a note weighted down with a perfumed red flower.

Tiana,

Light of my eyes, essence of my soul I go to fight the forces of evil, the war demons of Beltane. I beg you, conceal yourself in the alchemist’s tomb behind the fall. The water will protect you from harm, and eventually I will come for you there.

My heart is yours.

Kavan.

Tears filled her eyes and her mind reached out to his. It was closed to her, preoccupied with the task at hand. She freed the message, anyway.
Return safely, Lord Kavan.

* * * *

Kavan smiled to himself and spurred Shazah forward. Every inch of him was charged with energy and purpose. The waiting was over, the real enemy about to be engaged. He had no doubt he would return the victor. He thought of Tiana waiting for him and his heart filled with an indescribable joy. Suddenly, he was eager to get the battle over with.

Gazing downwards, he watched Truarc change direction as Cabrilan turned. As he’d calculated, they were now poised to collide. Soberly, he thought,
This is the last orbit. I must win this battle quickly and retrieve the fire stone. Then I must find the eyes . . . but where?
The possibility of failure reared like a snake about to strike. He shook his head to clear the doubt away. He must not fail!

Ahead, he saw the war demons. Hundreds of them were streaking towards them, their wings flaming red and trailing smoke. General Saayer was leading them on his night charger. His silver tunic glowed like flames in the light from the pulsing fire stone on his chest.

“In his vanity, this man forgets to put his own strategy into practice,” Kavan whispered to himself as the troopers, undetectable in their dark garb, silently split rank to form an open-ended circle. By right, the first kill belonged to Kavan, especially on an occasion such as this when pride was at stake, as well.

Kavan waited until Saayer was close before he drew his sword. “You forgot to tell me you intended to challenge me for the seat of power.”

Saayer went for his sword, but Kavan didn’t intend to give him a chance to defend himself. One slash cut the man in half at the waist. As Saayer’s trunk parted from his bottom half, Kavan jerked the stone from the man’s chest and stuffed it deep inside his tunic.