The Complete Twilight Reign Ebook Collection (102 page)

‘It’s-‘ Vesna shook his head. ‘Now is not the time, but I would like to speak of it. Let us deal with the boy first.’

Isak led the way back to Mayel, who was sitting with his back to the way, grimacing.

He lifted the youth to his feet and inspected the damage. ‘You’ll have a fine bruise or two, but I don’t think he’s done much more than rattle your teeth. I’ll be glad if I get no more than that before I get out of this city.’

Mayel touched a finger to his rapidly swelling cheek. The man who’d hit him was a strong man, and a fair bit taller. ‘You’ll be telling me he pulled his punches next,’ he muttered, glaring at Vesna around Isak’s massive body.

‘And that shows it’s just your pride that’s hurt. A wise man once told me that was easily given up to save your life.’

‘I’m sure the old sod would feel smug if he saw this then,’ Mayel spat.

‘I’m sure he would, but you don’t get to call him an old sod,’ Isak replied, and slapped him sharply on his bruised cheek.

The youth yelped and recoiled.

‘Enough of the games. I’m losing patience,’ Isak growled, looming over the youth and glowering until he thought Mayel looked frightened enough to tell the truth. ‘You had something to tell me.’

Mayel started shaking. Rubbing his cheek, he looked up at the huge white-eye towering over him. He had suddenly realised he was in over his head, and these men were not going to take it easy on him because he was just a scrawny ex-novice. ‘Why do you even care about the monastery?’ he whispered.

Call it professional interest,’ Isak said, watching expressions dance across Mayel’s face. Vesna was right; the boy was no accomplished liar. ‘A priest was murdered last night, on stage, in front of a cheering crowd, From what I hear that’s not the only priest who’s been treated with something less than respect by the good citizens of Scree, and I’m curious as to why.’

I don’t know much about that,’ Mayel said quickly. ‘I came to Scree with the abbot of my monastery. We were hiding from a rogue monk; the prior of our order.’

‘Who’s called?’

Prior Corci, but everyone called him Jackdaw. We brought some holy relics with us and Jackdaw wants them.’ Mayel shuddered visibly as he said quietly, ‘He killed someone trying to get at them, so the abbot decided to flee.’ By now all the bluster had disappeared and he was just a frightened boy.

Isak stepped back a pace to give him a bit of space. ‘Do you know what the relics are?’ he asked, his voice less angry now.

Mayel shook his head. ‘No, the abbot was careful never to let me see them.’

‘But you have your suspicions?’ Isak pressed.

‘I can’t be sure, but both Abbot Doren and Jackdaw are mages. When I went looking for news of my cousin, I also tried to visit the abbot, but I was driven off as soon as I entered the grounds. I got a splitting headache - no, more than that, it was a pain in my head, but not like anything I’ve ever felt before. It was as if I could feel his presence all around me, but suddenly he was terrifying, not the sickly old man I know. It felt-‘ He paused. ‘It felt like he’d gone mad, and I could feel his fear.’ Mayel scowled at the floor and rubbed his cheek. ‘I know that sounds ridiculous but I could taste it on the air before I even reached the house. He was a mage, I suppose.’

‘Driven mad by fear?’ Isak looked fascinated and worried at the same time, a look that was echoed around the room.

Mayel shrugged. ‘The house was quite close to your necromancer’s; perhaps the relic attracted one of the daemons when they escaped the grounds. The abbot was really paranoid, right from the moment we left the monastery, so a daemon attacking the house could have pushed him the rest of the way.’

‘And what is your plan now?’

Mayel didn’t answer at first. Nervously, he looked around at the others in the room and tried in vain to read their expressions.

Isak did the same. The only person showing any emotion was Tila, and she was doing a fair job of hiding her anxiety over Vesna’s sudden show of fury. Only the set of her lips and poise betrayed her. He wasn’t surprised at the other blank faces; it was second nature for spies and career soldiers to hide their feelings.

‘I don’t have a plan now,’ Mayel said reluctantly. ‘My cousin’s dead, and I can’t go back to the abbot. With the city the way it is, I don’t know what I’m going to do. No one’s going to be hiring while mobs are roaming the streets. Even my cousin’s house has been ransacked - by his own men.’ There was a trace of indignation in his voice now, and he raised his chin a little defiantly.

‘Have you ever considered the life of a fighting man?’ said Isak with a grin.

‘Not really,’ Mayel admitted as he weakly returned the smile. ‘People trying to kill me has never appealed; even a monastery sounds better than that.’

‘As soon as you go out of that door, people will try to kill you,’ Isak said baldly. ‘My way, you’ve at least got a sword in your hand and comrades to keep you alive.’

Relief and suspicion clashed on Mayel’s face. ‘You mean a sword like that one?’ he said hopefully, pointing to Eolis.

‘Hah, perhaps not quite like mine,’ Isak said with a laugh, instinctively jerking the blade away from Mayel’s attention, ‘but I’m sure we can find you something to suit your abilities. One of the men will show you how to avoid sticking yourself with it.’

‘Why would you want me?’

‘The same reason your abbot did; we’re not locals here. We’ve good Hackers, but none of us are from Scree, so that probably makes you worth feeding.’

He turned to Jachen. ‘Take him to whatever dark corner Tiniq and Leshi are lurking in. Our newest recruit is going to tell them exactly how to get to his abbot, so they can go and investigate.’

‘Of course.’ Jachen remembered not to salute, and beckoned for Mayel to follow him.

‘My Lord,’ Legana said, once Mayel was out of ear-shot, ‘what are my orders?’

Isak cocked his head, trying to decide whether he should send her back to Zhia Vukotic’s side. And what is our next step? he wondered to himself. Is there anything more to do in this city beyond finding a safe way out? I think we’ve come too late for much else.

‘Does the vampire know what is happening in Scree?’ he said finally.

‘She has her suspicions,’ Legana answered. ‘She believes the one running the sunken theatre are casting some sort of spell thai is affecting the whole city. They’re followers of Azaer, if King Emin’s men are to he believed.’

‘Looking at what’s going on outside, there’s not going to be a city left for much longer, so their plan must he nearing completion.’

Legana inclined her head in agreement.

Isak scratched his neck, ‘No doubt the theatre will be exempt from the curfew tonight. Perhaps we’ll find our answers there.’ He beamed and raised his left hand. Curls of orange flame began to twirl around his white fingers. ‘If not, let’s burn the bastard down instead.’

From the top of Anhem’s Tower, the tallest building in Scree’s northeastern corner, Rojak watched the first shadows of evening steal over the Land, catching men and beasts unawares, wrapping them in deepening threads of twilight. He looked back at the city, where he could see a squad of brutal Fysthrall soldiers chopping their way though a crowd of locals. The rusty-skinned foreigners were worried these people were working themselves up into a frenzy, as had happened half a dozen times over the last few days, but in truth this lot were crying out for food, not slaughter. The Fysthrall didn’t understand their language.

The minstrel smiled. ‘Misunderstandings cause such misery, more than ill will could ever manage.’

‘Is that a challenge?’

Rojak gave a strange, girlish laugh. ‘Perhaps not tonight,’ he told his master.

Beside him, Ilumene pointed out over the fields, at a towering column of dust they’d been watching as it drew closer. ‘It’ll be a close-run thing. Who will bother to ask why we have a Devoted army outside the walls? How many in this city would believe that they’re here only to protect the sanctity of Scree’s temples, as they claim, and not in fact waiting like jackals to feed on the spoils of a failing leader?’ He jabbed a thumb to the north. There were parallel thin red scabs running down the thumb from nail to wrist, and he curled it to ensure the cuts remained open. Against the clear pale blue above the horizon a dirty smear indicated the presence of another army. North, where every road led to Farlan lands.

‘If those Farlan come any closer, the Devoted’s commander will be forced to turn and face them; he’ll have to dig in, or risk being raided by the Farlan cavalry every hour. The Farlan will interpret digging in as a gesture of intent and act accordingly.’

‘And now it is time for us to give a helping hand, llumene, our favourite son; find us another priest for tonight’s entertainment.’

‘The show must go on, eh?’ Ilumene’s weathered face lit up with malicious mirth.

‘There will be an audience. The good folk of Scree are consumed by their hatred of everything around them; they have passed the point of no return now,’ said the minstrel, dismissing him with a gesture.

llumene ran lightly down the thick stone steps to the street below, past the Hound that Rojak now needed to help him get about. It was obvious to all concerned that what they sardonically called their theatrics was taking its toll on the minstrel, who was becoming increasingly brittle with every passing day.

Rojak looked down at the little finger of his left hand, inspecting his most recent injury. He’d scraped his hand when he’d lost his balance on the steps, and a good inch of papery skin had been shredded, revealing desiccated grey tissue that did not belong in a living man. As Scree failed, so did he - but the knowledge that this was one more victory he would steal from King Emin elicited a chuckle from his wasted throat. He winced and fumbled for the flask of brandy he carried at all times.

‘Now for the ill will I promised you,’ said Azaer, an icy breeze sliding gently over Rojak’s ear. ‘Send Flitter and Venn to the camp of the Second Army; tell its commanders who their mistress truly is.’

‘Will they be believed?’

‘Belief is a fickle creature. Those who believe do so because they wish to. Bane and Veren’s Staff could no more restrain themselves than King Emin could when he heard llumene had been seen, lronskin is the voice of reason in that camp. His unique affliction was punishment for offending Karkan. I’m sure he will be keen to follow his comrades to please the Gods.’

‘Should we not wait until we see Siala’s reaction to the Devoted?’

‘The Devoted are in no rush to fight; they have yet to decide who their enemy is. When they see the Circle’s mercenaries fighting each other, they will stand back and watch; as llumene so aptly said, their nature is that of jackals. The Second Army will march on the Greengate, as that is where the vampire’s troops are. Every other gate is already barricaded, so this will bottle them all up together. Let them squabble amongst themselves, and turn on each other just as their Gods do.’

‘Their weakness is our power,’ intoned Rojak.

‘Certainly, but let no one claim we are cruel; they shall be warned that their own flaws betray them.’

A new play for tonight?’

‘The last play. After tonight we will retire to the wings and the theatre will be no more. We shall have nothing more for them but our final curtain call.’

‘So which is it to be for our last performance, my Master?’

‘Twilight reigns, the gates are locked and within, the city burns. What could it be but “The Shadow Crucible”?’

‘Tell me again why we’re here?’ asked Morghien through gritted teeth. He strained to pull himself up to the next branch. The trip had been an arduous one, despite Mihn’s many talents, and for once Morghien was feeling his age.

‘The answer to that hasn’t changed,’ Mihn said softly from the branch above. His attention was occupied by the earthwork ramparts surrounding a hill less than a mile away. The smooth sweeps of dark slope were illuminated by paper lanterns of yellow and red.

Morghien gave a grunt and finally pulled himself up. Once he’d found his balance, the man of many spirits turned his head up to see Mihn, who was standing nonchalantly on a slim bough, his staff resting across his shoulders and his arms hooked over it.

Morghien knew better than try to keep up with a former Harlequin when it came to acrobatics so he made sure of his grip before speaking again.

‘I actually meant, why are we climbing this bloody tree?’

‘Ah, I apologise,’ said Mihn. ‘I’d assumed you were continuing the litany that started as we crossed the Green Sea, but now I realise it was a whole new complaint.’

‘Tsatach’s balls, I’m here as a favour to your master. I’ve got every right to complain if I want to,’ Morghien muttered.

‘I’m sure the magnanimous Lord Isak will be pleased you’re taking every opportunity to exercise your rights,’ Mihn said cheerily.

Morghien scowled at him. ‘Now we’re here, what can you see?’

‘Much of the estate, all nicely lit up for our benefit. It is Meqao’s Day today. Of all of Amavoq’s Aspects, Meqao - Hunter of the Silent Wood, as he’s known in these parts - is the most beloved by the Yeetatchen.’

‘He’s the one with the antlers and the huge-‘

‘No, that’s Bohreq, the Herdfather. I thought you’d had an education?’ Mihn scratched at his ankle absentmindedly for a moment, before feeling the bandage on it and withdrawing his hand. Two days back he’d been bitten by a hunting hound on the loose, and though the wound was minor, he’d bound it to keep it clean. ‘Meqao has the head of a silver-furred wolf and carries a spear in one hand, a brass bell in the other.’

‘Brass bell? What damned use is that to a hunter?’

Mihn looked down and Morghien thought he could see the man’s eyes glint in the gloom. ‘I would be happy to recount the full saga of “Meqao and the Lady of the Bluebells” - of course, it will require a gong, a bell and a jug of water, and three hours of your close attention.’ He smiled.

‘Perhaps later then?’ Morghien sighed. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier to get in to Lord Ajel’s home if we dressed you as a Harlequin and got you to recite the saga?’ He’d not meant it seriously, but he realised he’d overstepped the mark when Mihn tensed. The cool evening grew frosty.