The Guild of Assassins (22 page)

“I’m glad your challenge against the Guild ended the way it did,” he said quietly.

Mai’s lips twitched into a brief smile as he nodded his acknowledgement.

“When I issued the challenge to you,” Kyth went on, “I did not think for a minute you were going to go through with it. After you and Kara fought side by side, I didn’t think you would find it possible to turn against her. If I had known what was at stake–”

Mai’s brief glance stopped him.

“When you inherit your throne, you will soon realize that your responsibility to your people goes far beyond any personal feelings and bonds. Just hope that no one ever forces you into the kind of choice you threw at me yesterday afternoon.”

Kyth continued to stare
.
For the first time he saw through his hatred, through Mai’s glamor, down to the core. He was a man of exceptional integrity, who always did what he believed was right. And, he truly loved Kara. Whatever her feelings for him, whichever one of them she chose in the end, Kyth now understood exactly how Mai felt.

Neither of them had the right to stake Kara’s life on this negotiation. In the end, all that mattered was the success of the war, and Kyth suddenly realized that there was no better man than Mai to lead the attack.

If it had to be done on his terms, so be it.

“I would like to formally withdraw my challenge, Guildmaster,” he said. “I hope, despite everything that has happened between us, you will permit me to do it and to surrender to all your conditions. And... I am grateful for your help.”

Mai nodded, his brief glance of acknowledgement making it seem as if there was nothing to it.

“Let’s go back to the arena,” Mai said, “and finish the show.”

Kara spent the next few days avoiding Mai. She trained with Raishan, who was thankfully back on his feet, even if still not quite at full strength. She also watched Kyth, and talked to him after his practices to offer advice and comfort. His trainers were driving him very hard, and sometimes she secretly wondered if Mai had made it just a touch more difficult on him than necessary. Still, they needed Kyth to be fit and ready for action, and in the end there was no better way.

It was nice to see how Kyth was progressing, wielding a light training saber against six men at a time after only a few days of practice. He had come so far from the sensitive, idealistic boy she had first met, in awe of her fighting skill and head over heels in love with her. She knew he could tell that her heart was no longer with him. She could see how much it hurt him, and she felt guilty about it. But it was useless to give in to guilt and regret. Past deeds could not be revoked. Past feelings were even harder to manage.

She often strode through the grounds with Magister Egey Bashi, whose down-to-earth wisdom felt so soothing to her turmoiled feelings. She caught a glimpse of Mai from time to time, and tried to stop herself from looking his way.

Kara couldn’t help feeling amazed at how Mai’s presence on the training grounds energized everyone, sending ripples of activity down to its every distant corner even when he was not in sight. No Majat Guildmaster in history had ever trained side by side with his men, and the mere knowledge of it inspired devotion far greater than anything she’d ever seen.

“You can’t avoid him forever,” Egey Bashi said to her once, on the way to the practice floor.

Kara’s shoulders stiffened. One of the reasons she valued the Keeper’s company so much was because he never forced her into difficult conversations, even though she was certain he had a deep understanding of everything involved. And now, his casual comment reached straight to the bottom of her heart, hurting more than she cared to admit.

“You are going to march together against a common enemy, Aghat,” Egey Bashi said. “The least you can do is to make amends.”

Kara hesitated. He was right, of course. Sooner or later, she would have to face Mai. Whether or not he could forgive her for what she had done, he could use her skill in the upcoming fight, and she couldn’t allow her own insecurities to stand in the way.

“You are right, Magister,” she said. “I’ll go talk to him.”

Egey Bashi nodded. “I think I saw him at the indoor range this morning. He spends most of his time there – or so I heard.”

Indoor range. The secluded area on the east side of the grounds was used for training in synchrony, teaching fighters to anticipate each other when fighting in groups. If Mai spent most of his time there, no wonder she caught such rare glimpses of him.

When Kara approached the gated doorway at the edge of the training field, her ears caught the sound of the drum inside. Synchrony was taught to a beat, which initially helped the fighters to pick the same rhythm. Later, during a fight, they could actually call these beats by name. Hearing the call, everyone could change in mid-stride, without any possibility of the opponent keeping up.

Of course, in real life no fighters in action moved in unison. But this training in large groups, learning to sense each others’ actions, created a unity between them that enabled them to act as a single being in battle. Emeralds, from which the Guildmaster’s personal guards were drawn, specialized in this technique, making them indispensable because of the way they acted together as a force that could ensure the safety of the most important man in the Guild.

The drumbeat grew louder when Kara stepped inside. Her eyes widened, drawn to the large wooden platform in the center of the practice floor.

Mai was training with his Emerald Guards. A drummer at the edge of the floor was beating varying rhythms, and the Emeralds, with Mai at their head, were moving in such unison that Kara felt her skin prickle.

It looked exactly like a dance. The beat was fast, with complex syncopations, one of the more advanced ones. Mai moved to it so perfectly that for a moment she forgot he wasn’t doing it for show. His natural grace, added on to his skill, made even the Emeralds at his sides look clumsy by comparison, despite the fact that Kara knew them to be the best.

Mai was wearing a blindfold and held a practice sword in each hand. Every once in a while his blade swept against one in his neighbor’s hand, and each time Kara saw him frown, clearly displeased with himself. He was obviously driving himself very hard to bring himself up to speed with his new guards, and she didn’t blame him. The Emerald Guards were a powerful resource, and in order to fully utilize them he had to learn to fight by their side.

The beat ceased, thirteen men coming to a stop in perfect unison. Mai tore off his blindfold and strode to the edge of the practice floor, grabbing a towel to wipe the sweat off his face. His hand paused with the towel halfway down his neck as he saw Kara. He lowered it, watching her.

She stepped forward, feeling like a little girl caught peeking.

“Aghat Mai,” she began and stopped, unable to go on. What could she possibly say to him? That she was sorry she fought against him in Kyth’s challenge? That she felt bad about throwing away everything they had? Talking about it was no use. He probably knew she didn’t feel good about what she had done. He also knew that she had done it anyway. His look, back in the audience hall, when she had told him she was accepting the challenge, would haunt her forever. It was as if she had stabbed him in the back.

“We could use you in the formation, Aghat,” Mai said.

Kara’s eyes widened. That was the last thing she had expected him to say.

“Me?”

He frowned. “I assume you will be coming with us to Aknabar. Won’t you?”

“Yes. But...”

“I want you to train with me so you can fight by my side.”

She swallowed. She would like nothing better than to fight by his side. This was probably the best she could hope for, after everything that had happened. But she hadn’t expected he would offer it to her. She had thought he would never trust her again.

Mai pointed to a stand with the practice swords. Wordlessly, she laid down her hagdala and took two, choosing the lighter ones and quickly testing them for balance. He watched her with an unreadable expression.

When she was ready, he threw down his towel and signaled, assembling the Emeralds back into formation.

“Start with the Om,” he told the drummer.

Kara nodded. Om was one of the easier beats, mid-pace, without syncopations. She could do Om, couldn’t she?

Mai didn’t put his blindfold back on. Moving next to him, she quickly realized the exercise was not as easy as she thought. The fighters’ movements were nearly unpredictable, except for the rhythm, and she had to both anticipate and follow, while keeping up the speed. After a short sequence she felt that her head was about to explode. She was glad when she heard the drum cease, and lowered her swords, trying to steady her breath. She couldn’t imagine how Mai, after only a few days of practice, could do such a perfect dance at a fast syncopation, while wearing a blindfold.

“You are too tense,” Mai told her. “You have to relax when you’re doing this. You’re trying to watch us. All you need to do is listen, and let go.”

Listen.
Yes, that’s probably how it worked when she and Mai fought side by side and could anticipate each other’s moves without even seeing each other. But to do it with twelve men whose fighting style she barely knew?

“Just keep at it,” Mai said. “You’ll improve faster than you think.”

She shook her head. “I don’t understand how you could possibly do it blindfolded.”

Mai smiled. “There’s another trick. You are trying to follow all of us. While eventually you’d need to do that, you should get used to us first. Start by following one.”

“One?”

“There’s always a leader in each formation. But even if the leader is not in your line of sight at each particular move, you can follow someone else, assuming he’s moving in unison with the others.”

She hesitated. “I’ll try.”

“I know you can do it, Aghat. Trust me.”

She looked up at him. He seemed calm and friendly, discussing the exercise in a way he always did at the practice range. But she could also see the guarded look behind the friendliness that made her heart quiver every time she caught his gaze. He would probably never look at her the same way again. She forced the thought away.

She could see the Emeralds around them dissipate, catching a break and wiping off sweat. Mai was driving everyone very hard to prepare for the attack.

“Who are you bringing?” she asked, trying to support a normal conversation.

“Lance and Raishan,” Mai said. “Sixteen Rubies, thirty Sapphires, and fifty Jades. As well as twelve men of my Emerald Guard.”

She nodded. These seemed like perfect numbers – a force strong enough to withstand a small army, yet light on the march and flexible enough to enable Mai to improvise on the spot. She realized that he was also being careful by leaving enough top gems behind to make sure that if things got rough in action it did not deal a crippling blow to the Guild.

Watching his face, the way he glanced at her sideways as if expecting a blow, she suddenly realized she wouldn’t be able to go on this way. Knowing how she had hurt him hindered her practice too. It would be a handicap in a fight, unless she could resolve everything between them and know exactly where they stood.

“Aghat Mai,” she said. “I… I know it probably won’t make any difference, but I wanted to tell you how deeply sorry I am for everything I caused you by agreeing to champion Kyth’s challenge.”

A shadow passed across his face. His gaze softened.

“I know you did what you believed was right, Aghat,” he said. “I also know you were thrown into a tight spot with no time to consider your options.”

“Yes, but–”

His glance stopped her.

“In the end, it was perhaps all for the best. Your resolve to throw your life into the negotiations was a timely reminder to both of us to keep our minds on the goal. Without it, we would have been unlikely to be training for the march right now, would we?”

She let out a breath. “It seems that I find myself in your debt once again, for going to unimaginable ends to save my life.”

“I told you,” he said. “I have erased your debt with me. Permanently. I hope this way you will never feel obliged to do anything because you feel you owe me.”

“You know I’ll do anything for you anyway,” she said, “debt or not.”

His glance made her cheeks inadvertently light up with color. She was aware the words came out more personally than she had meant them to be in a casual conversation. But they were out there now and she couldn’t possibly take them back, even if she wanted to.

He regarded her for a moment.

“I sincerely hope we never have to put this to the test. Not after you’ve nearly laid down your life to fight by my side.”

She tried to smile. “I hope you don’t feel indebted to me for that, do you?”

“How could I possibly not?”

Her smile widened. “I am not a Majat Guildmaster,” she said. “But I can grant you some small favors of my own. I hereby permanently erase your debt to me, if indeed you ever had any. From now on, I hope you never feel obliged to act because you feel you owe me. That makes us even, doesn’t it?”

He smiled. “I suppose it does. And, as you probably know, debt or not, I’d do anything for you too. No matter what, you will always have my friendship. Just now, I saw you doubt that. You should not.”

Friendship.
She felt relieved. He had forgiven her for what she had done. She couldn’t ask for anything more. And yet, she couldn’t help also feeling a pang of disappointment, which she tried very hard to force down. Whatever he had said to her in delirium, on the eve of what they had both believed to be their execution, could not possibly hold up in real life. He was the Majat Guildmaster now, the most powerful man in the kingdoms, whose life was devoted entirely to the affairs of his Guild. She would have to be crazy to think of him in any other way.

She smiled, glancing past him onto the practice floor. That syncopated beat he had been moving to when she walked in, so graceful and fast that he took her breath away. How could he possibly do it so well?

“That was the Hai beat, right?” she said.

“Yes. You want to try it with me?”

She nodded, following him to the floor.

This time he didn’t assemble the Emeralds as he took a place by her side, signaling to the drummer. The beat started slowly and built up rhythm after a few steps. She concentrated, trying to match his moves, aware of the way she was lagging behind.

Don’t watch. Listen.

She tried to recall the way they did it in battle, when they fought side by side. Back then, they acted in perfect unity, aware of each other’s moves without really seeing them, and that, above all, had made them so invincible. Moving next to him was so easy, his style and rhythm such a good match for hers. Once she remembered, it took little effort to let herself go, sliding her mind into that half-entranced state when everything he did by her side evoked an instant response, so that she didn’t even have to look at him to make sure of their unison.

She felt almost disappointed when the beat stopped, too soon for her to savor the sensation to the full. She lowered her swords, only now realising how tired her muscles felt after the strenuous exercise.

Mai was watching her, as well as, she realized, all the Emeralds and the trainers nearby, everyone’s distracted expressions so different from the usual concentration on the practice range. She slowly let out a breath.

“That was... easy,” she said.

Mai smiled. “Now, shall we try the blindfold?”