The Guild of Assassins (21 page)

“If you’re ready to promise me you won’t murder anyone on the spot, I suggest we talk to Master Abib and possibly consider bringing Prince Kythar into the room. As far as I understand, during a recess, the Majat Guild can do this without losing face.”

Mai’s face darkened again.

“I can talk to Master Abib. Briefly. I can’t promise the rest.”

Egey Bashi let out a breath. “That would be a start, Aghat Mai.”

As they descended into the small courtyard, a group of the Majat was waiting for them, with Abib in the lead. He was holding the Guildmaster’s cloak over his arm. Mai stopped, looking at him warily.

Abib stepped forward.

“Forgive me, Aghat Mai,” he said. “I must apologize to you for acting in error, due to my poor knowledge of the Code.”

Mai raised his eyebrows. Egey Bashi knew Mai didn’t believe this any more than the Keeper himself. There was likely nobody in this Guild with better knowledge of the Code than Master Abib.

“When I accepted your resignation as the Majat Guildmaster and agreed to temporarily bear this title,” Abib continued, seemingly unperturbed, “I overlooked one very important detail that was later brought to my attention by other members of the Guild.” He glanced around at the assembled people, which included, as Egey Bashi now noticed, Gahang Iver, the new leader of the Jades, and Aghat Lance, fully armed and battle-ready.

“It appears, Aghat Mai,” Abib said, “that, by the Code, the Guildmaster cannot lay down his command to fight in a challenge. Therefore, technically, your resignation never took effect.” He stepped forward and flung the Guildmaster’s cloak over Mai’s shoulders. “You cannot appear in the arena again. You must name your champion, and while this is of course your decision, I feel obliged to let you know that Aghat Lance is available and has volunteered, with your permission, to represent the Guild in this challenge.”

Mai took a step back. His eyes flared in anger that quickly turned to alarm as he ran them over the silent faces of the assembly. Egey Bashi could guess his thoughts. Kara was already exhausted by the mêlée. Lance, famous for his brutal force tactics, would likely have no trouble getting through.

“I took the liberty of informing Prince Kythar of this turn of events,” Abib said. “And he is willing to meet with you, in the hope that the impending outcome of the fight by his champion against the entire Guild can be averted. In fact, he expressed his willingness to discuss things on your terms when we explained to him that there is no possibility of you continuing the fight in the tournament yourself.”

Mai measured him with a long glance.

“Very well,” he said. “I will meet Prince Kythar in my study.”

He turned and strode away.

Egey Bashi let out a breath. Once again, Abib had demonstrated not only his ingenuity, but also his ability to make quick decisions by devious manipulations of the Code. Egey Bashi had trouble believing that he and Mai could have overlooked such an obvious thing before, or ignored any other provision that could have made Mai’s resignation anything but legitimate. However, when Abib had just challenged that decision with such authority, in the presence of senior Majat, he had left no room for Mai to question him on the spot. This confirmed what the Keeper had been suspecting all along. The Majat Code was not absolute, and the decision of the Guild’s seniors could twist it like a weathervane, when needed.

And now, their purpose had been achieved in just a few words. Mai had resumed his post and agreed to meet with Kyth.

Egey Bashi had the utmost confidence that, knowing the stakes, Mai would find a solution and come up with a good plan – especially if Abib could ensure that he and the Prince talked things out in private, and for as long as necessary. He didn’t envy Kyth going into this conversation. But at least he hoped that Mai was over his violent stage and the Prince was in no immediate physical danger.

“Well done, Master Abib,” he said. “However, I feel it may be prudent to ensure that for the duration of this talk the Guildmaster’s study doesn’t harbor any weapons.”

Kyth ascended the stairs of the Guildmaster’s tower at a fast walk. At the end of the fifth flight he had to stop to catch his breath before entering the open door of the study.

Witnessing the fight at the tournament had greatly demoralized him. When he had issued his challenge, he never believed Mai would actually go through with it. When Mai had appeared in the arena, Kyth felt as if the ground had been kicked from under his feet. Watching Mai’s resolve and seeing him throw everything into the fight had finally made Kyth fully realize that this ruthless man was not going to back down, whatever the stakes. Mai obviously took the whole thing very personally, and despite the fact that Lady Celana, Alder, and Ellah had done their best to assure Kyth that Mai was not going to kill Kara even if he won, Kyth couldn’t feel convinced. He wanted nothing more than to find a way out of this situation.

He knew that bigger things were at stake that rested on this alliance, and if he had been told he must risk his own life in these negotiations with a reasonable chance to win, he would have gladly agreed. But throwing Kara’s life into the bargain was too much, and he was deeply regretting it. Mai had called his bluff, and even though admitting it put Kyth at a big disadvantage, he strongly felt he had had enough of these games. If Mai agreed to meet one-on-one, Kyth was more than willing to listen to everything he had to say and do his best to bridge the gap between them. Back in the audience hall, he had probably said a few things he shouldn’t have. He had gone too far, and he was willing to admit it. He was determined to do his best to remedy the situation, even if it included apologising to Mai, privately or in public.

Mai was sitting at his desk when Kyth entered, watching him calmly. He had changed his shirt and combed his hair, but the wear of battle still showed in the tense set of his shoulders, in the way he kept to the edge of the chair, as if ready to spring into action. The knuckles of his right hand, resting on the surface of the desk, were grazed, with the skin peeled off from what must have been a near-hit by a very sharp blade. Kyth shivered.

“I…” he hesitated, not sure where to begin.

Mai’s short glance stopped him.

“Sit down.”

His eyes pointed to a chair on the opposite side of his desk. Kyth felt his feet inadvertently carry him forward toward the seat. He lowered onto the edge of it, keeping Mai’s gaze.

“Your challenge,” Mai said, “was by far the most stupid thing I’ve ever seen happen in our audience hall. Closely followed by everything else you said. What the hell were you thinking?”

Kyth’s mouth fell open. He had expected, if not an apology, perhaps an acknowledgement that things had gone wrong on both sides and that Mai was willing to take steps to close the gap. He had not expected
this
.

He considered taking offense, but quickly decided against it. They were alone in a closed room, with no one to overhear them. This man was not supposed to do him any physical harm – or so he hoped. What better chance would he ever have to speak his mind?

“You left me no other choice,” he said. “You refused my alliance. What else was I supposed to do?”

Mai let out a sigh. “I assume you haven’t had much schooling in diplomacy, have you?”

Kyth frowned. “Oh, and you have?”

Mai measured him with a quick glance. “More than you, obviously.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I didn’t refuse. I named my terms. You named yours. That is where a negotiation usually starts.”

“But you said…” Kyth was taken aback. He was indeed beginning to feel like an idiot. Had he put Kara’s life on the line for nothing? “You told me right off that an alliance was impossible.”

“I
told
you,” Mai said, “that a strike against the Kaddim must be done under the Majat’s command. And yes, a formal alliance
is
impossible. But that’s not what you really need, is it?

“Isn’t it?”

Mai sighed. “You didn’t come here to put on a bloody show of being the first in history to violate the Majat’s political neutrality. I know King Evan couldn’t possibly have put you up to that. He knows better, even if you don’t. All you need is for us to help you kick the Kaddim’s ass.”

Kyth hesitated. He was fairly certain all these expressions weren’t a part of any diplomatic talk he had ever learned. Obviously the schooling in diplomacy Mai was boasting about was conducted differently here at the Majat Fortress compared to the King’s court.

“And your offer to take command was supposed to make me
agree
?” he asked.

“Yes, if you were smart enough to listen.”

Kyth stared at him with disbelief.

“You want me to join the Majat attack force and serve under
your
command?”

Mai regarded him with irony. “You don’t expect me to serve under yours, do you? You’re not that bloody stupid.”

Kyth bristled. “Why not?”

“Do I look suicidal?”

Kyth swallowed. This conversation was not going the way he expected. Yet, he knew that pushing this kind of argument any further wouldn’t help things.

“It’s not about who is in command,” he said.

Mai let out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, it is. That is exactly what it’s all about.”

Kyth stared. “Do you put your pride so far above everyone else?”

Mai shook his head. “It’s not about pride. It’s all about instant decisions that need to be made on the spot by someone who knows exactly what they’re doing. The timing lost in an improper chain of command could lose you a battle before you realize it. Do you have any idea how to lead a force in a strike against the Holy Monastery?”

Kyth shook his head. “No. But… if you remember, I didn’t start by asking you to surrender your forces to us. You will still lead your men. All I asked for was an alliance. In diplomacy,” he added nastily, before he could stop himself, “it means that the sides are equal in standing and join forces against the same enemy. Aren’t you supposed to know these things, with all your schooling that is apparently so much better than mine?”

Mai’s face held an annoying smile. “Equal standing?”

“Yes.”

Mai laughed. “Same question. Do I look suicidal?”

Kyth’s eyes narrowed. He knew he shouldn’t be giving in to anger, but it was so hard to control it. Mai was laughing in his face, taking full advantage of the fact that Kyth had no choice but to listen. Mai had always been an arrogant asshole, and now that he was in command this became a lot more of a problem. Kyth found himself wishing that the old Guildmaster was still in charge – if, of course, that could have been achieved without Kara perishing in the tournament.

“You think you are so much better than everyone else,” he snapped. “Don’t you?”

Mai relaxed his shoulders, settling deeper into his chair. Kyth saw him wince as a casual movement must have disturbed his injured arm.
At least she showed you she can kick your butt in a fight.
The last thought inadvertently brought back memories of the challenge, the way Kara nearly lost her footing, the way Mai’s blade, more than once, swept far too close to her face. She must be harboring some injuries too, waiting alone in the arena until they could resolve this argument. Kyth swallowed, trying to distance himself from the annoying smile that played on Mai’s lips.

“I
am
better,” Mai said, “when it comes to fighting. I am infinitely better than all the forces you have at your disposal – if you can even call them forces. Everyone sees it, why can’t you?”

Kyth subsided into his chair. Grudgingly, he had to admit that Mai was right. He
was
better, especially if he didn’t have to be so annoying at the same time.

“I will not agree to join an attack hindered by such a handicap,” Mai went on. “If you want the Majat’s help,
I
will decide who can join us and in what role. You have to do it my way. Unconditionally.”

“Aren’t you driving a bit too hard of a bargain? In diplomacy, people make compromises. Or so I heard.”

Mai crossed his arms on his chest. “I
am
making a compromise, by agreeing to take outsiders into our force. If you’d troubled yourself to read up on history, you would have realized how big a compromise it is. If you want this to happen, you’ll have to cover the rest of the gap. Take it or leave it.”

Kyth drew a breath. “And you are willing to gamble Kara’s life on it?”

Mai’s eyes flared, as if Kyth had struck him.

“I am not gambling,” Mai said. “You are. And if you show any intention of doing this again, I will go after you myself. She is far too precious to be used in this way, and I cannot even begin to wonder how it is possible that you don’t see it. I attribute it to your stupidity.”

Kyth went very still. He wasn’t going to get angry again. He wasn’t. Mai said it because he cared. Not because he was trying to get him off balance.

“You could have refused the challenge,” he said.

“And surrendered my men to your command?”

“It’s not like I was going to kill them or something.”

“If we agreed to the attack on your terms, it would be as good as killing them. Do you think I had a choice?”

Kyth wanted to respond, but a retort froze on his lips at the sight of the deep pain that stirred in Mai’s eyes.

Kyth’s skin prickled. He suddenly saw everything that had happened from the other side. Mai had renounced his post as the Guildmaster to be able to appear in the tournament, despite the fact that even Kyth could see how well this post suited him. He had put everything he had into the fight and then, when things got out of hand and Mai was faced with the necessity of putting another Diamond in his place who would likely finish the job, he opened negotiations again, despite the animosity Kyth knew he must have felt for him.

His feelings for Kara
. For the first time since he had learned about them, Kyth thought about what this truly meant. Whatever had happened between Mai and Kara in the heat of a fight, he knew that right now they weren’t together. He recognized the signs by the way she had resumed her aura of detachment as soon as their joint challenge was over and Mai went on to accept his high post. She was the same way with Kyth now, detached and closed off, not letting any emotions through. It hurt to see her this way, except that Kyth had also known happiness with her, when she had shown him how much she cared. What they’d had before made him hope she could return to him again some day, when she was ready.

Like it or not, these feelings for Kara were something they both shared. On some level, this knowledge made it possible for Kyth to bypass his animosity and truly relate to Mai.

I don’t own her,
Mai had said to him once.
Neither do you.
Kyth suddenly realized that, until now, he had, in a way, believed that he had a claim to her, based on their prior relationship. But in truth, he didn’t own her at all. She could come and go as she pleased. When she was with him, it felt like a dream. When she was not, it hurt like hell.

Was this how Mai felt
all the time
?

Kyth raised his head and met Mai’s gaze.

“You were trying to do your ‘viper’s kiss’ on her, weren’t you?” he said quietly. “You renounced your post to fight in the tournament yourself, so that you could save her life.”

Mai’s eyes briefly flicked to his grazed knuckles, and to his left arm, hidden by the sleeve. Then he raised his gaze to Kyth again, his tranquil expression more impenetrable than the walls of the Majat Fortress.

“None of your damned business,” he said. “And yes, I was. Somebody had to save her from the trap your stupidity drove her into.”

“And what would you do,” Kyth asked slowly, “if I accepted your terms and surrendered to your command?”

Mai leaned back into his chair.

“As the first order of business, I would put you through a proper set of training to defend against multiple opponents.”

Kyth raised his eyebrows. He hadn’t thought of that at all. Yet, it made a lot of sense. Perhaps placing Mai in charge had something to it?

“And then?” he prompted.

“Once I believed you were ready, I would lead a small Majat force for a surgical strike against the Monastery.”

“Small?”

Mai sighed. “How many can you protect from their power?”

Kyth receded into his chair. Now that emotions were out of the way, he was beginning to realize how good Mai was at these things. He had always thought Mai’s proficiency with weapons was his main skill. But in his new post, this man continued to surprise him.

“How many do you think I would be able to protect after your training?” he asked.

Mai shrugged. “With the limited time we have... maybe a dozen? It all depends on how good you are.”

A dozen.
It sounded good, if nearly as unattainable as the moon.

“And then?”

“I heard,” Mai said, “that the Holy Monastery is a fortress of its own. It’s very difficult to take it with a head-on attack. I believe infiltrating it would be our best option. A dozen of our top gems would likely be up to the job.”

Kyth sighed. He was beginning to feel more and more like a fool. If only they could have had this kind of conversation yesterday in the audience hall–

“I’ve made a mess of things, haven’t I?” he said.

Mai nodded. “You certainly have. Although I admit I didn’t make it easy on you. We were both… blinded, I guess.”

Here it was. An apology. Or at least the closest he could ever hope to get from Mai.

“Is there a way out?” Kyth asked.

“There are several ways out,” Mai said. “But the one I suggest would be for you to return to the arena with me and formally surrender your challenge.”

Kyth nodded. If this was the only thing he had to do, it seemed easy.

He suddenly became aware of Mai’s intent gaze.

“I’ve said it once,” Mai said, “and now I will say it again, in the hope that repeating it will help get it through to you. Don’t ever put Kara’s life on the line again. She’s very devoted to your cause. Don’t take advantage of it.”

His eyes glinted with steel. Looking at him, Kyth suddenly realized another thing. Mai cared for Kara so much that he was willing to surrender her to Kyth. He was willing to do anything to make her happy, including laying down his life. Only after witnessing their Ultimate Challenge against the Guild did Kyth understand what it truly meant, and what Mai had been giving up when he had made his original decision to spare Kara’s life.