She Who Has No Name (The Legacy Trilogy) (80 page)

‘What do you mean?  He can’t be.’  A look of guilt and panic overwhelmed her.

‘I can feel his presence in this very room.  He’s alive, he’s here and he’s heard everything we’ve said.’

‘What do you mean?  It cannot be true,’ and she looked around to the corners of the room, while her guardsmen stepped from the shadows and drew their swords nervously.  ‘We left him for dead.’

‘You foolish woman!  What do you mean?  Didn’t you see to it yourself?’

‘He couldn’t possibly have survived what we did to him.  We tortured him and made him a cripple.  He was left for the rats!  Can he escape my dungeons?  No one should be able to use magic beneath the mountain.  It is just not possible!’

‘Who knows what he can do, woman?  He could be capable of anything.’

‘Quickly!  Get the child.  Kill the woman.  Get every wizard and warrior to the catacombs and stop him before he can escape.  We must not allow him to
escape from
the tunnels.  If he knows what we are doing, he will not be pleased.  He will come for us both!’

With that, her commands began to be
echoed
along the halls with a great panic.

In the deepest darkest cell of the Desert Queen’s dungeons, far beneath the twisting catacombs of Mount Karthma, Samuel awoke.  Within his prison, it was utterly black and as quiet as a tomb.

‘Not again,’ came a whisper in the darkness.  ‘I will not lose her.’ 

Magic bloomed within him
—
impossibly beautiful, like a many-petalled flower of blue and white, rising from the parched desert floor.  It filled him with strength, growing and intensifying within the safety of his body, harboured from the nullifying effect of the mountain stone.  Somehow, he had achieved what could not be done, gathering magic when his magic had been lost, summoning power in a place where it could not be reached. 

Left for dead, his mind and body had healed over the long months.  He had turned inwards, finding new paths to the light as he had fled from the dark.  As Balten had told him, the suffering and the silence had taught him much.  It had liberated him from the confines of himself and he had become something new entirely.

Still, the eternal presence of the mountain continued to weigh down upon him and the fire of magic within his belly could only grow so large.  His body was broken and every mote of power he could summon went into sustaining his ruined form.

A heavy clank echoed down from above and, astonishingly, the cell trapdoor was opened.  The yellow glow of lantern light shone down upon him like a beam from heaven and he waited, bathed in the light, while figures murmured above. 

A rope dropped down and Samuel stood to his feet.  His muscles felt like dried cords as they slid and pulled his withered limbs into place.  He flexed the knuckles of his left hand and he could feel his blood as it began to stream through his veins with renewed vigour.  His magic was doing its work, restoring him piece by tiny piece, but it was slow
going.  He would need to be free of the mountain’s embrace and then he would rebuild himself properly.

He grasped the rope and twisted it around and around
,
so as to knot his hand with it.  He waited, and the slack was gathered up, until he stood with his arm held tightly above him.  It felt as it his shoulder was going to tear from the joint, but more heaving from above had his toes lifting from the ground and he rose into the narrowed chute, dangling from the rope like an unsightly ornament.  At any other time
,
such a thing would have been excruciating, but his arm was little more than a desiccated ribbon of flesh wrapped around bone—and he felt nothing of it.

As his hand broke the surface of the shaft, arms came down and grasped him, pulling him up and into the narrow tunnel above.  Five bare-chested dungeon guards stood there, commanded by Utik’cah.  The Paatin commander held a lamp before him, glaring at Samuel wide-eyed and with disbelief.  The men looked as tough and burly as could be, but they stood back from Samuel at the sight of him and coughed and choked at his smell.

‘Holy gods of Rah!  You live!’ Utik’cah said, staring as if he was watching the dead, now risen.

‘So I believe,’ Samuel returned, and the words felt strange and husky upon his dry tongue. 

Utik’cah broke from his stupor
,
startled to life,
and
pull
ed
a black bundle from under his arm.  ‘Quickly, put these on.  Your clothes are rags, Lord Samuel.’

Samuel barely had to touch his own clothes
and
they fell from his body readily
,
threadbare and torn.  Utik’cah drew the new Order robes over him and tied them fast at the waist, staring at Samuel with a blend of amazement and anxiety all the while.

‘Why did you save me?’ Samuel asked, looking across at the dark-skinned man.

‘The girl is in labour.  Your child is almost born.  You must be quick if you wish to save her.  I no longer have any love for Alahativa.  Her people now run on sight of her, terrified by what she might do.  She has become obsessed by war and destruction.  Her sole purpose was once the good of her people, but that has long become lost.  Even if she takes Cintar, I know she will never stop.  In these recent months
,
she has become a different person.  She must be stopped before she drags our people into damnation along with her.’  He pulled something from inside his clothes—a silver rod—and held it to Samuel.  ‘Perhaps this can be of some use to you?  I know it contains powerful magic.’ 

‘Put it away and hide it,’ Samuel told him, for he immediately recognised it as the Ancient relic that had been taken from Balten.  ‘No good can come of this.  There is a spell inside that would kill any who opened it and everyone near.  It is too dangerous to use.  Not even I can open it safely.’

‘Could it kill our Queen?’ Utik’cah asked, observing the thing in his hands with awe.

‘It would, but it would also destroy the city and everyone in it.  Unless she could be lured out into the open desert, it is of little use, and I do not
believe
we have time for things like that.  I will take care of her.  Do not fret.  Put this accursed device away and never let it see the light of day.’

The Paatin seemed disappointed, and pushed the cylinder back inside his robes.

‘Let us hurry,’ Samuel added.  ‘Once free from the mountain’s embrace
,
I will be stronger.’

Samuel went to start off, but the Paatin man grabbed him by the shoulder and Samuel stopped to see what the matter was.

‘Lord Samuel, how can you hope to fight anyone in your condition?’

Samuel looked at the empty sleeve that hung over his right stump and then to his grimy left hand.  Even in his new Order robes, he must have looked little more than an animated corpse.  ‘I have seen better days, but I can manage.’

‘But Lord Samuel,’ Utik’cah said again.  ‘You have no eyes.’

Samuel hesitated, for the words had truly taken him by surprise.  He raised his fingers and dabbed them upon his face, touching about where his eyes should have been.  The sensation was disturbing, for he felt empty spaces where there should have been matter.  He dipped his fingers inside the hollowed and scarred cavities on each side of his nose, exploring within with some reluctance.  He could still see his hand, but as his fingers went inside his face
,
they vanished from his sight.  He was rather alarmed, but he could not let such a thing stop him.  He was without his eyes, but he could still see.  Somehow, in his time in exile beneath the earth, his magician’s
sight
had compensated for even such horrendous injuries as that.

‘What happened to me?’ he asked.

‘Alahativa ordered you maimed.  I am sorry, but we had little choice.  We broke your legs and pierced your ears.  We burned out your eyes and cut out your tongue.  We poured tubs of hungry rats down
on
top of you—and who knows what became of them?  She wanted the most savage of deaths for you.  I have no idea why, but she was very angry with you, Lord Samuel, and very afraid.  It was only a few days ago that one of the guards came directly to me and reported that you had not rotted away as expected, and that your corpse had moved position from the last time he had looked.  I did not believe him, but just moments ago Alahativa sent orders to stop you from leaving the dungeon, and I knew it must be true.  I cannot believe my eyes.  How is it that you still live after all this time?  How is it that you can even see?’ and he waved his hands before Samuel’s face, marvelling again as Samuel followed his hands with subtle movements of his head.

‘I don’t know, but now is not the time to ponder such things.  My son is about to be born.  Let us hurry.’

They hurried along and Utik’cah sent his men racing in front, with their daggers drawn and holding their torches high, throwing their flickering shadows in every direction upon the jagged rocks.  Out of view, the men began shouting and the screams of death and battle sounded ahead.

‘This way!’ Utik’cah said and drew Samuel into a side passage.

Along they raced, with Utik’cah’s lamp providing the only light, but Samuel could sense everything, seeing into the crevices and shadows with ease. 

They came to a
n intersection
of
the
corridors and Utik’cah darted across.  They wove their way along the criss-crossing passages and followed the spiralling, twisting tunnels that filled the mountain.  They were nearly to the surface when Utik’cah stopped abruptly, for a dozen Paatin guards filled the narrow way ahead.

‘Let me pass!’ Utik’cah commanded in the language of the Paatin and Samuel was surprised to find that he could now comprehend what was said.

‘The death of the magician has been ordered,’ replied the leader of the others.  ‘Stand aside or join him in death.  Alahativa commands it.’

Utik’cah drew his dagger and took a defiant step towards the men, but it was now Samuel’s turn to hold him back.

‘Let me deal with them,’ Samuel said, stepping past his guide.

‘Lord Samuel, you have no magic here and they will not reason.’

Samuel ignored him and continued forward.  The guards readied their weapons, but Samuel covered the space between them and was amongst them as a blur of violence.  He punched and kicked and smashed his head and elbow into them like a fighting demon and
,
in a moment
,
they all lay dead.  He would have killed them quicker, but for his missing hand, for he had swung his right arm several times as if it still possessed a fist, letting it pass through the air harmlessly and setting him off balance. 

When all the men were down or dead, Utik’cah came padding up behind him, aghast.

‘How did you do that, Lord Samuel?  What magic is this that can make you move like the wind?’

‘My will is stronger than these decrepit stones,’ was Samuel’s reply, for even his current trickle of magic was enough to enhance his movements for a short time.

‘You are wounded!’ Utik’cah then said, for a steel blade was stuck in Samuel’s belly, pinning his robes to his skin.

Samuel grasped it with his hand and threw the curved knife to the floor.  Blood like treacle slapped onto the stones, but he felt nothing.

‘Are you somehow now a god?’ the desert-man asked in awe.

‘I doubt it, but I am stronger than before.  Something has happened to me that I do not yet understand.  However, I do need to get out of this mountain quickly.  It still draws at me and my body needs to be properly healed.  To do that, I need my full strength.’

They hurried along, darting through more twisting and turning passages
,
and soon the great opening became visible ahead: a bright
,
white slash against the darkness of the caverns.  Again
,
the pair was forced to stop, for a host of sword-bearing guards blocked the way, twenty deep and shoulder to shoulder across the stone hall.  Wizards stood with them, silhouetted by brilliant cowls of magic.