The Way of the Power (6 page)

“It’ll be fine.” She tried not to scowl, though she knew that he only said these things so people would see him talking closely with her.

A loud, steady drumbeat broke through the crowd’s noise and captured their attention. Eight performers, four women and four men, entered the cleared square. They wore tight-fitting clothes that allowed them freedom to move. Their faces had been painted drastically — two stark white, two thick green, two deep red, and two rich blue.

As they walked forward, their steps timed with the drumbeat, Malja recognized one of the dancers — Hirasa. That girl was astounding. She had fought hard on the battlefield, had risked much for the lives of her fellow people, and now showed a level of grace and artistry that filled Malja with pride as if the girl were her own. No matter what happened to these people, no matter what fool they allowed to lead them, Malja knew that as long as they had individuals like Hirasa around, they would be fine.

The dance was entertaining enough. It began with a depiction of the people’s central myth — the story of the brothers Carsite and Scarite both falling in love with the beautiful Pali, how they each struggled to win her over, and how Pali chose a tragic end to save them all. As the dancers went through their highly stylized routine, filled with graceful yet sharp movements, the audience reacted with admiration and surprise as if they did not hear this story numerous times every week.

Out of politeness, Malja tried to pay attention, but dance had never interested her. She noticed a scuffle in the back and her hand tightened into a fist. But then she saw a multi-colored robe enter the fray, and moments later, Sheriff Fawbry had broken up the fight. He did it smoothly, quietly, and with such authority that after he left, those causing the trouble straightened up and respectfully watched the dance.

Guess he’s learned a few things over the years.

The dance shifted from the Pali myth to something far more serious to Malja — a depiction of her arrival and the events leading up to and through the war with the Scarites. She tried not to look uncomfortable, but the dance portrayed her as some kind of heroine. As far as she could tell, all that really had happened consisted of her trying to save her friends from the trouble they had created and then trying to stop Harskill from the trouble he created. But to watch the dance, one would think the Brother Gods themselves had sent her on a noble quest to right the wrongs done to this poor people.

Finally, the performance finished, the dancers bowed, the audience cheered, and the party resumed. People stepped over the stone outline of the stage to congratulate the dancers. Others took the stage to dance with their friends or lovers. A small band of musicians kicked up a raucous tune while chatter and laughter filled every empty space of air.

Canto patted Malja on the arm. “Thank you. You’ve done a good thing here. Look at them. They’re smiling. They’re happy. This was exactly what they needed.” Without waiting for a reply, Canto joined the mass of celebrants.

Malja scanned the crowd — not looking for trouble or problems, but merely looking. Canto was right. They were happy. She had been to many parties before, but rarely were the people so engaged and joyous. Often the parties followed a battle, and though they celebrated a victory, there always remained a somber, morose current flowing underneath.

But here, the Carsites had been free of war for several months. They were rebuilding their lives. They could dream of a future for their children. They had hope.

Her eyes stopped on the stage which had now become a dance floor. Tommy and the Artisoll walked out on the floor and faced each other. Their fingers locked together and their eyes twinkled. She wore a traditional Carsite robe but with an untraditional, bright orange sash. And Tommy — he had actually attempted to appear neat. His wild hair had been tamed down with something that kept it stuck in place, and he wore a light robe, free from any sign of dirt.

The townspeople stared at the Artisoll — some shocked, some horrified. If not for the fact that she danced with Tommy, they would have reacted much stronger. Perhaps chasing her out of town for fear that she was the Pali Witch. Though the witch had died, killed by a Carsite named Javery, the legend surrounding the evil being lived on. The people expected her to return someday, and seeing a woman who had been a girl only hours before constituted witchcraft.

Off to the side, Malja caught sight of another young woman. A pretty girl that had been Tommy’s main focus when Malja had left. Her name was Lynoya, and the look of betrayal in her eyes told a different story but one common enough.

I’ll have to have a serious talk with Tommy,
Malja thought. Except, what could she say? She had avoided the complications of love throughout her life. There always had been more important matters to deal with — surviving at first, revenge at second, and lately, saving people. As Fawbry had pointed out on several occasions, she had no authority when it came to these matters. But she knew enough to see that the drama unfolding in front her was wrong. Tommy should not mistreat Lynoya and he certainly shouldn’t be flirting with the Artisoll.

Stray settled in the chair next to Malja and watched the celebration. “This is a fine party.”

She glanced his way, wondering what his reaction would be to Tommy dancing with the woman he was sworn to protect. He appeared unperturbed. Maybe he hadn’t noticed. Not likely. No matter what happened, Malja knew that Stray would keep one eye on the Artisoll always.

With an awkward motion that encompassed his entire torso, Stray leaned closer and stuck out his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

“I don’t like dancing.”

Stray exhaled and slumped in his chair with a broad smile. “Thank the Queen and all the Holy Men who serve her. I dislike dancing as well. I just saw you sitting here alone and thought that since this is all in your honor, it would be wrong for you not to be asked to dance.”

“Why are you suddenly acting nice to me?”

“Two reasons. First, my job is protecting the Artisoll. Here, I see the way the people look at us, and I think she would be in great danger if you weren’t on our side. Second, you’re a good fighter. I don’t like any of what has happened, but I believe you have the honor of a true warrior.”

Lynoya burst into tears and dashed off into the crowd. As she left, Tommy showed no sign of noticing.

Pointing to the Artisoll, Malja said, “Is that a problem?” She felt a twinge of guilt, but she figured if Tommy wanted to behave this way, he should be willing to deal with the consequences.

Stray shrugged. “I protect the Artisoll. I don’t dictate her choices.”

“You don’t care if they sleep together, but you threaten to kill me if I touch her?”

“She chose to touch him. There’s a difference.”

“But won’t she be ruined for the leaders of your world? They want her to be Queen, don’t they?”

“The leaders of the world won’t care if she’s a virgin or not. They only want her magic.”

“What’s so special about her magic, anyway?”

“To begin with, it’s the only magic. Our Holy Men scour the land all over the world. They travel country to country until they find the Artisoll — a baby girl with all of the magic the world can produce. When she is found, she is raised to become the next Queen. Whichever country she takes the throne in becomes the world’s leader. Until the next Artisoll becomes Queen.”

“I see now,” Malja said. “That explains the battle in the street. They all want her magic, so they can rule the world for a time.”

“Normally, it is a peaceful transition. The governing Queen simply takes the Artisoll to the Temple in the country destined to rule.”

“But this time isn’t normal?”

“The Queen died before she could tell us where to take the Artisoll.”

“Why would they shoot at her then? Don’t they need her to claim power?”

Stray crossed his arms. “They are fools. Especially those from Bechstollan. They are impulsive and full of rage. I would assume that if indeed their shots were aimed at the Artisoll and not us, their goal was to destroy her, so that another would be born elsewhere. A stalling technique, if you will.”

Malja watched as Tommy made a face and the Artisoll smiled while lowering her head closer towards him. Neither spoke, of course, but they appeared to communicate far too well.

That’s when she spied a shadow dash across the rooftop of a nearby building.

She was about to ask Stray if he had seen it, too, when she noticed that he sat on the edge of his chair, his eyes focused on the same section of rooftop. Two more shadows moved across the way. Two more after that. Then a flurry of darkness passed overhead — some looked like they had tails. Not a single Carsite at the festival noticed.

“I counted ten,” Malja said.

Stray nodded, his eyes searching for more.

She looked across the dancing crowd. Malja straightened and repositioned her feet. She could launch from her chair quickly, but if an attack came, there would be no way to save everybody.

“I never thought the Scarites would start this up again so soon. After their defeat, they couldn’t possibly have enough strength to declare war. It’s suicide.” An awful thought soured her stomach — Harskill. He could have returned. Perhaps he wanted this world after all. Even without magic, the world had plenty to offer. And Harskill could bring magic back with ease. Probably.

Stray shook his head. “They might be after the Artisoll.”

“They don’t even know she exists.”

“One of the first lessons ever taught me — do not underestimate those who seek her out.”

“Regardless, staying here only endangers the crowd. We’ve got to move.”

“It’s more important to get the Artisoll to safety then worry about the lives of others. But we don’t know if this is even a real threat. Perhaps it’s a diversion. I can’t afford to risk her safety by acting without knowing the threat.”

Malja placed her hand on Stray’s shoulder. “You just gave me an idea.”

Chapter 6

“Follow me.” Malja led a path
through the gyrating party and Stray stayed close behind. “First thing we need to do is find a place hidden from view above.”

“But the Artisoll.”

“Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to her. If our unwanted guests are targeting her, they clearly are waiting for a less crowded moment to attack; otherwise, they already would have struck. If they are here for me, then as long as we’re moving, they’ll wait to see if we end up in a better location for an attack. And if they’re here to start a war with the Carsites, it doesn’t matter where we go. They’ll be attacking the whole town.”

A drunken elderly man stumbled into Malja, spilling his mug of foul smelling drink down his front. He scowled and raised his fist. When he saw who stood before him, he trembled out a smile and pumped his fist in the air. “Yeah, Malja,” he said with a weak crack in his voice.

“Go,” she said. He vanished into the crowd. She turned to Stray. “We can’t stay out here in the open. Another drunk like that might be all it takes to get our enemy on the move.”

“What about there?” Stray said, indicating a building with his eyes.

“The stables? That could work.”

They broke free from the thickest part of the crowd and entered the long stables. Twenty stalls - ten on each side of a straight corridor with only four occupied. Malja nodded.

She stepped back out, checking the rooftops as fast and nonchalantly as possible, before scanning the edge of the crowd. The shadows had spread out. Several followed her, but several more remained with the party — which included the Artisoll. Her simple plan might be more necessary than she had thought.

As expected, Hirasa stood near the outer edge of the crowd. As she wiped off the last of her performance makeup, she peeked over at the stables. That girl’s attachment to Malja had been at times flattering, embarrassing, and annoying. But at least, it was predictable.

“Hirasa. Come here.”

The young woman hustled over. “Did you enjoy the dance?”

“You were excellent. Thank you.”

Hirasa reddened. “It was a group effort, of course. We really could have done much better, but with so little time —”

“Listen to me.” Malja’s serious tone quieted Hirasa. “I need your help. I want you to go to where everyone is dancing. Find Tommy and the Artisoll and bring them here. Hurry.”

“I won’t fail you.”

As Hirasa threw herself into her assignment, Malja returned to Stray. He stood by a black horse and stroked its nose. “Lovely animals. Do you have any toftof here?”

“Don’t even know what that is. Don’t care much at the moment, either.” Malja paused. Why was Stray acting so calm? She looked him over and saw that even as he portrayed ease, his right hand had a firm grip on one of his swords. With a nod of recognition, she walked towards him. “I’m sorry. That was rude. Perhaps you could tell me about these toftof.”

As she came closer, she heard movement from several stalls down. That must have been what got Stray agitated. She passed him by, edging closer to the stall, and lowered into a fighting stance. Moving slow and quiet, she eased out Viper. The noises from the stall were careless. Whoever hid there was not a trained assassin nor a trained soldier.