Prisoner (44 page)

"Tawn."

"Dear Brother-in-law," Tawn said, moving around Iah and closer to Sol. "I've been sent to retrieve two stars."

Sol barely kept from letting his dismay show as a thought struck him too late. "You already killed Beraht?"

"The peasant? I'll take care of him later."

He drew closer, and Sol recoiled. "What have you done?"

Tawn's eyes were a rich, dark red, the exact color of an arcen flower in its seventh year. It was a beautiful color; women attempted to match it in their apparel, and jewels of the same color were highly sought. But in eyes it was a color of madness. "Done? I have achieved complete mastery," Tawn said.

"Complete mastery, yes," Sol replied. He had to end this quickly, or Iah would not live. Tawn could kill him all too easily, and without arcen Sol had no way to counter. He didn't even have a dagger, and he was not stupid enough to think he could get close enough to break Tawn's nose a second time. Sol tensed for the inevitable. "But it is not you who is the master."

Tawn laughed, but Sol noticed when the laughter flowed into a spell.
Razor
, it was called, for the way it made the victim feel as though his skin were being sliced open. With yellow arcen, it was effective enough to fell a Krian if cast properly. Red could make it far more painful and far more deadly. The fact that he was alive made it clear that Tawn intended to toy with him. The spell struck twice, thrice, and Sol crumpled to the ground.

He should have gone for help and cursed himself for giving into panic like a green soldier. Foolish. He tried to cry out, but another spell made the floor move dizzily beneath him. Sol fought it, attempting to regain himself, and drawing upon all he knew about arcen-induced magic.

Suddenly he felt sorry for the Krians, really and truly sorry. For years they had gone up against not one but two magic-capable races with nothing more than steel. Krians did not have magic to soothe the force of a blow and to numb pain. Even while living in the Winter Palace, he'd always had some measure of arcen in his system.

Blood dripped and trickled from a dozen wounds or more that were cut deep enough to cause excruciating pain, but not enough to kill. It
hurt.

No wonder the Krians hated magic.

Sol waited, bleeding, as Tawn approached him. Tawn laughed. "You're as vulgar and pathetic as the rest of them now. Even your lover could not put up a fight. At least the Krians have some means of fighting back."

Snarling, Sol threw himself up, toppling Tawn while screaming as loudly as he could and fighting to keep Tawn from speaking. His vision swam, but Sol kept it up until he heard people enter the room.

He looked up to see Dieter and Beraht, both only half dressed. Dieter's sword shimmered in the light of the fire and lamps. Sol slid to the ground, and Tawn broke free. Distantly, Sol heard as Tawn attacked them. He looked up in time to see Dieter shove Beraht aside and raise his sword—and deflect the misshapen air that was the only visible sign that a spell had been cast.

Then Dieter was moving, and if Tawn was hurting him, he gave no sign of it. They fought around the small space, table and chairs treated as little more than minor annoyances. Sol didn't struggle when Beraht finally reached him and helped him up. They made their way slowly toward the fire, and Sol collapsed fearfully alongside Iah.

Dieter was driving Tawn back into a corner, barely seeming to notice the spells tossed at him, ignoring the cuts and burns that were ruining his clothes. With a lunge and roar, he broke through the barriers Tawn had erected at the cost of dimming his eyes to orange-red.

Tawn fell, too grievously wounded to be able to heal. Dieter stabbed him again to be sure and did not move until Tawn was unquestionably dead.

Sol collapsed.

*~*~*

"Stars above!" Beraht swore. He looked at the bloody corpse in the corner, von Adolwulf's red-stained sword, and Sol and Iah, both beaten and bloody before the fire. "Stars above," he repeated.

Von Adolwulf looked at him. "How are they?"

"Not good," Beraht said grimly. "Any arcen on him?" He returned the scathing look von Adolwulf shot him. "It's the only way! Save your lectures for when everyone is alive and well enough to put up with them."

Though he looked as though he wanted to argue, von Adolwulf nodded stiffly and knelt to rifle through Tawn's clothing. He came away with three vials and tossed them one by one to Beraht, who caught the first and uncorked it one-handed even as he caught the second two with the other hand. "Remember the last time I had red?" he asked.

"It would be rather hard to forget."

Beraht whistled as he held up a vial. It was viscous, the color of fresh blood. "This is good stuff. Better even than the stuff you gave me in Kria."

"So if you start acting more hostile than usual I should do to you what I did to him?" von Adolwulf motioned to Tawn's body.

"Go ahead and try," Beraht said. "For once I might actually be able to give you the thrashing you deserve."

Von Adolwulf said nothing, but Beraht could see the smirk in his eyes. Ignoring him, Beraht downed the sickly-sweet arcen, grimacing at the underlying bitterness, like bitter tea with too much sugar that was still not enough.

Iah was in bad shape, weak and shuddering and not a healthy color. Beraht wondered what Tawn had been planning to leave him alive. Nothing good, from all that Beraht had heard about him. Ignoring the dizziness and nausea brought on by the arcen and trying hard to ignore how confident he suddenly felt despite the clawing need to vomit, Beraht focused his mind on the magic. On not being overwhelmed this time—which was a lot easier to do when there wasn't some rocks-for-brains bastard picking fights while people cheered for his death.

The healing spell hurt him, drawing things from his mind and body that only arcen could tap. The red arcen was too much, too fast, but it was all he had. Beraht bit down hard on the inside of his cheeks and made him himself
focus.
No one else would be able to heal them.

He didn't stop channeling the magic until Iah's face took on a healthier color, and he seemed to breathe more easily. Wiping sweat from his brow, Beraht shifted his attention to Sol. Knowing what to expect, and with the injuries much less severe, it was easier if not easy.

"It never fails to amaze me," von Adolwulf said as he finished.

"What?" Beraht snapped, pleased he could muster the energy for that. The fire felt too hot, the floor too hard, and he really wished everyone would just go away. Especially the bastard.

"How much your country values something that clearly does nothing but kill you slowly."

Beraht slowly stood up, not really trusting his legs, but hating to be on the floor while von Adolwulf loomed over him. "We need to move them."

Though it looked as though von Adolwulf wanted to argue the matter, he nodded stiffly and lifted Sol into his arms. "A different room?"

"Only you," Beraht said in disgust, "would say it like leaving them in here is an option." He struggled to pick up Iah, but gave up when he nearly fell over himself from a hard wave of dizziness. "You do it. I've done my part."

He thought he heard von Adolwulf laugh, but he was already out the door, and Beraht could not catch his expression. A couple of minutes later he returned and took Iah. Beraht followed behind.

"Should we wake everyone up?" He helped von Adolwulf settle them in their new bed, tugging up the blankets and risking a couple more healing spells to ensure that they were well and truly all right. Even with his assistance, however, they would not be moving any time soon.

"No," von Adolwulf said after a moment. "There is nothing Lady Esta or the prince could do at this hour that cannot wait until morning."

"Esta will be mad at you."

Von Adolwulf shrugged. "Have someone wake Kalan. He would be most useful now."

Beraht nodded and headed for the door. "I'll do it myself."

*~*~*

"Why," Kalan demanded with a yawn, "do I have to be the one to deal with this?" He grimaced at the corpse in the corner of the room. "It's far too early in the morning, for such things."

Dieter snorted; it almost sounded like amusement. "You're awfully calm about this for a civilian."

"I'll thank you not to call me names," Kalan said, making a face. "I more or less run the part of the army that no one knows about—how else do you think I knew Spiegel? Even Matthias doesn't know everything I get up to. Who is he?"

"Tawn," Beraht answered. "One of the higher-ranking in the Brotherhood—as in, he's been given permission to use the entire spectrum." He waved his hand in the air, as if motioning something away. "All the way up to red. It means the Brotherhood was either confident or desperate."

Kalan sighed. "He came here to kill you and Sol?"

"Yes. A prelude of it was the pain inflicted on us the other day, the night after I sleep-walked. I think Tawn would have come for Sol anyway. There's a personal antagonism between them that runs deep." He shook his head. "Spare me ever dealing with the complications of family."

"Hmm…" Kalan motioned to two soldiers he'd brought with him. "Take the body away; have it burned and bring the ashes to me. We'll return them to the Brotherhood with a polite note. Will there be more?"

"I don't think so," Beraht said. "At least not right away. But—"

Kalan nodded. "No one invades Illussor, not when it is impossible to pretend to be one of us."

"So they knew," Dieter added, looking up from the fire he'd been glaring at. "They knew Illussor magic would not be a problem."

"Precisely." Kalan frowned in thought, eyes narrowed with worry. "Be discreet," he cautioned the guards. "I want no one to know about this. It will be your heads, gentlemen, if I hear rumors flying about tomorrow."

"Sir," the men said stiffly as they struggled to take away Tawn's body.

"Thank you." Kalan grimaced. "The rest of this can wait until tomorrow. What a mess. I am glad Sol and Iah are all right. Tawn should be grateful he's dead; Esta would have been cruel in her revenge had he lived." He yawned again. "I think I need a drink, but I'll settle for food. Come on, let's rouse a cook; you can tell me everything over again, and we'll see just exactly how much damage we're dealing with. I don't like the sounds of the Brotherhood knowing we no longer have magic."

*~*~*

"Are you certain you're all right?" Esta asked again, clinging to Iah's hand.

Iah sighed. "Yes, Essie. I'm certain. Now quit asking, please."

Esta frowned, but remained silent. She shifted her attention to Sol. "How did it happen?"

"
Essie,
" Matthias said tiredly, "they've already told you four times. Let it drop."

Esta stormed to her feet, belatedly dropping Iah's hand when he protested having it yanked about. "I'm sick and tired of it! When does it stop? We're losing people to the Breaking because they won't learn to live without it. The king barely leaves his room! Over and over again I come close to losing my brother. Goddess curse you all!" Gathering her skirts, Esta turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind her.

Iah winced. "I'm glad you get to be the one to calm her down, Matti."

"Coward," Matthias said with a grimace.

Kalan grinned. "You want to marry her, best get used to it."

"Oh, yes. Because that plan is going so well." Matthias sighed and slumped down further in his chair. "Why don't we continue with the general misery, and you tell me what you weren't saying with Esta in the room."

Beraht stirred where he stood with von Adolwulf by the fire. "Tawn came with the intent of killing us for turning traitor. You would know better than us that sneaking into Illussor is impossible. Nor would the Brotherhood have allowed him to do something so obviously pointless unless they knew it could be done."

Matthias nodded wearily. "So they knew we were without magic. But how?"

Kalan looked grim. "I received a report only just this morning that the men in the second watch tower were killed, their eyes torn out. No doubt that explains a great deal. One of the chamber maids was also found dead this morning."

"Stars above," Beraht said. "Does it never end?"

Von Adolwulf looked at him scathingly. "You've been involved long enough to know it only ever gets worse." Beraht ignored him.

Matthias sighed and stood up. "Depressing, but true. If I had known the fallout of the Breaking would be this bad, I don't know that I would have been able to go through with it." He settled his cane before attempting to move, and if anyone noticed his wince, they did not mention it. "So it's just as well that I didn't know. Dieter, how goes the training?"

"As well as possible, though not as well as I'd like. It will take time."

"More time than we have, I'm certain," Matthias said grimly. "If Salhara is aware we are without magic, then I've no doubt Kria is as well. I'm honestly not certain which country is more problematic."

Beraht snorted. "I'm sure they'll fall to fighting each other long before they reach us here."

"I think even the polluted would find it ideal to cooperate in the name of putting down their only threat so far as magic is concerned," von Adolwulf argued. He slid a thoughtful glance toward Sol. "That aside, I do not think your countrymen are up to traveling in this weather. Nor do the Krians favor doing it without sufficient motivation." He grinned. "And I assure you, fighting the Illussor is not sufficient motivation."