Blades of the Old Empire (21 page)

“Dagmara,” Garnald went on, “was on her way to meet with Ayalla. She summoned us to prepare the meeting when news of your arrival came.”

“News?”

The Mirewalker shrugged. “Some of her foretellings. Not sure how she does it. Anyway, she foresaw you coming, and Alder, and Ellah.”

“Ellah?”

The Mirewalker made a move to spread his hands, but a side step of his horse made him grasp the reins with new force.

“Dagmara was anxious to meet you herself,” he went on. “She kept talking about some danger or something, days before you arrived.”

He gave Kyth one of his penetrating looks that made Kyth feel that the old Mirewalker understood a lot more than he cared to show.

Ahead, they could now see the familiar shapes of tents rising out of the grass. The horses sped up, sensing familiar ground. Garnald was suddenly a lot more busy trying to stay in the saddle, and Kyth and Alder left the Mirewalker behind. Their horses leveled up with Kara, riding in front with the three Cha’ori.

Kyth couldn’t help noticing a special detached look about Kara. Something had changed in her after they had met up with Dagmara. She looked calm, but something in her gaze, directed ahead with an absentminded expression, alarmed Kyth.

She turned and gave him a brief smile. Then she glanced back to where the Trade City of Jaimir was barely visible in the distant haze. She narrowed her eyes, as if trying to make out somebody in the city crowd on the market plaza, but from this distance it was, of course, impossible. After a moment, she turned and fixed her gaze on the Grassland plain ahead.

Mai kept such a fast pace that at the end of each day Ellah could barely stay in the saddle. She had given up any attempts to help with everyday chores, letting the Majat set camp, cook, clean and, on occasion, even spread out her bedroll. By the end of the tenth day she almost welcomed the sight of the wide ocean of houses that opened up to them from the hilltop, marking the outer boundary of the Trade City of Jaimir.

During the trip Mai had been calm and friendly, but he never let down his guard to allow her a glimpse of any emotion. At any other time she would have regretted it, but now, after the exhausting ride, she was so tired she had no strength to wonder anymore. She was quite content with staying in the saddle all day and still being able to walk after getting off the horse.

The ride through Jaimir was uneventful. Mai easily navigated through a maze of narrow streets, leading them straight to the port where the huge market plaza opened up in front of them all at once with an explosion of sights, shapes, colors and smells.

The late afternoon crowd in the marketplace was too dense to stay on horseback. They dismounted and continued on foot toward the ferry dock. Mai led the way, with Ellah and Sharrim in his wake. At the sight of the two heavily armed Majat, the crowd parted hastily to let them through.

The ferryman towered nearly a head over Mai, twice as broad in any dimension. Yet, as his single pale eye fell on the Diamond, there was a glint of respect in his gaze. He actually straightened up, waiting for Mai to approach.

Mai handed him a coin and the man put it away with a nod, surveying their group.

“By the time you get across, it’ll be near sunset,” he said to Mai. “Are you sure you wouldn’t rather stay in the city? I open early tomorrow and can take you across at first light.”

Mai shook his head. “We’re in a hurry.”

Ellah’s heart beat faster at the thought that she would soon see Kyth again. She missed him and was worried about his mission. But she was also aware that after she met him, her trip with Mai would come to an end.

Mai pulled his horse to a stop and peered into a large trail of hoof prints running off into the distance.

“They’re surely in a hurry,” he said. “In the past day, we haven’t closed in on them all that much.”

Sharrim nodded. “I heard the Cha’ori can make a hundred miles a day on heavy marches. Our horses can’t do much better, Aghat.”

Mai shrugged. “We’re about five hours apart. And, they’re probably going to camp for the night. If we sleep for a few hours and then ride the rest of the night, we should catch them in the morning.”

Sharrim nodded, directing his horse to a small group of trees. Ellah dropped the reins, letting her horse follow. She was too tired to do anything. She wanted to tell Mai that there was no need to hurry so much on her account and that she could well wait a couple of days longer to be reunited with her friends, but talking required strength and she was much too exhausted. Besides, if Mai thought it necessary to keep this pace, she wasn’t going to be the one to drag behind. She had promised him she could keep up, hadn’t she?

She rode over to where Sharrim had tied his horse to a low branch and stopped, too tired even to get down from the saddle. As she sat there, gathering the strength to move, Mai appeared by her side.

“Are you all right?”

Ellah tried to smile. “I’m fine. Just a little tired.”

He reached up and helped her out of the saddle. When her feet touched the ground, her legs gave way and she almost fell. Mai steadied her, holding her in a half-embrace. His closeness gave her strength. Even in her tired state her heart beat faster as she felt his warmth against her and inhaled his faint smell of fresh water and pine.

“I’m fine,” she said. “I can keep up. Really.”

Mai nodded. He put an arm around her waist and led her toward the place where Sharrim had already started a small fire.

“We’ll eat rations tonight,” he said to Sharrim. “We must use all the time we have to rest.”

Sharrim walked over to his saddle bags and fished out three small packets. Mai took two, and came back to Ellah. Crouching on the ground in front of her, he unwrapped one of the packets and held it out to her.

“Eat this. And drink some water. Then you must sleep.”

She nodded and took the packet, too tired to speak. It was a strange blend of salted meat, dry sweet fruits, and a herb she didn’t know that gave it all a strong, heady flavor. It didn’t seem like much food, but after eating it, Ellah felt better. She took a flask out of Mai’s hand and drank some water, watching Sharrim in the distance spread out the bedrolls.

When she was done, Mai pulled her up to her feet and led her to her bedroll. He helped her down, covering her with a cloak. Then he sat next to her and put a hand over her forehead, resting his fingertips over her eyelids that fell closed under his touch.

A calm feeling emanated from him, just like the time he confronted the wild dogs.

“Sleep,” he said, and she felt the warmth from his hand spread along her body, making her feel heavy and relaxed. Despite her tiredness, she was acutely aware of his closeness, of his hand touching her. She wanted to wait longer and enjoy this feeling, but his calmness drew her into a void and she remembered nothing more.

Ellah awoke because somebody touched her shoulder. She opened her eyes. It was still dark. She sat up and peered at the figure kneeling in front of her. His face was in shadow, but his golden hair, backlit by the pale moonlight, was easy to recognize.

Mai.

“Get up,” he said. “It’s time to go.”

He stepped over to Sharrim’s just-visible, crouching shape next to the glowing embers in the fire pit. Ellah got up and straightened out her clothes. She was afraid she wouldn’t be able to move after the way she felt the previous night, but she felt surprisingly refreshed. She combed her hair and washed her face with water from her flask. Then she walked over to sit with the Majat.

The night was chilly, but the embers emanated warmth. When she sat down next to Mai, he handed her another ration and a warm mug of brew. It was even stronger than the tea they usually made, and had the same heady flavor as the food. Having learned a bit about herbs from her grandmother, Ellah could tell that this new flavor, present in the food and drink, came from a herb that was making her feel so refreshed after such a short sleep. She finished her tea and felt full of energy, almost eager for another day in the saddle.

They quickly packed up the camp and set out on their ride across the plain.

By the time the eastern sky lit up with a glow, the landscape had changed. The trail of hoof prints they were following kept close to the river. On their right, along the tall bank, groups of trees grew so close to each other that they looked like the outskirts of a small forest. If one kept riding south, these small groups would eventually give way to the tall haven elms of the Forestland Hedge. By Ellah’s estimation it was about ten days away. Her heart raced at the thought of being so close to home.

The sun was already in the sky by the time they saw the distant shapes of the Cha’ori tents. Thin wisps of rising smoke indicated that the camp was occupied. Ellah felt her heart beat faster at the thought that she would soon see Kyth and Alder. If this was Dagmara’s hort, she would also see other people she had bonded with during their travel together just a few months ago. She let her horse run ahead, and Mai and Sharrim closed in behind her.

As they approached the low hill that separated them from the camp, five riders rode up to block their way. Their pointed helmets bore the sign of an eye, the sight that made Ellah’s heart leap.
The Overseer Hort
. Dagmara must be here, and Kyth and Alder were probably with her.

The leader of the patrol was a young man of about Ellah’s age, with a waist-length braid. Behind him rode two more warriors and two archers, resting arrows against the strings of their bows as they galloped to intercept the intruders.

Out of the corner of her eye Ellah saw Sharrim’s hand dart to his own bow. Mai stopped him with a short gesture and the two Majat rode up either side of Ellah. Their postures became calm and relaxed. Only by having traveled with them for a long time did Ellah know that behind the calmness they were alert and ready to spring into action.

The Cha’ori warrior addressed Ellah as the leader of the group.

“State your business.”

“I’m here to meet with my friends.” Ellah peered into the face of the young warrior. His face, half-covered by a stiff leather flap that protruded from the forehead downward over the nose, looked familiar. He was young, not much older than her. “Kyth, Adler, and Kara. Are they here?”

“Our foreteller,” the man said, “didn’t mention anything about Prince Kythar’s friends coming this way.” He glanced at the archers, who raised their bows.

Prince Kythar. He’s here then.
Ellah’s heart raced. She looked at her companions, but their relaxed postures didn’t change, as they calmly stared ahead, waiting for her to continue the conversation. Ellah couldn’t figure out why they weren’t trying to help her talk their way through, but there was no other choice but to proceed.

“Kyth is here to meet with Dagmara,” she said. “Is she your foreteller, warrior?”

The riders leaned forward in their saddles, peering into her face. “You know a lot about us, stranger.”

Ellah let out a sigh. She never anticipated it would be so difficult to gain passage into the Cha’ori camp.

If this was indeed Dagmara’s hort, she should know this man. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see under the helmet. As if in response, he rode closer and lifted his strange visor.

“Ellah?” he asked slowly.

“Adhim?” A smile spread over Ellah’s face. She couldn’t believe it had taken her so long to recognize him. Adhim had been a great friend to them all on their march with the Cha’ori.

“You cut your hair,” Adhim said. “And changed clothes. It looked… unusual. I thought I knew you, but I wasn’t sure. I’m sorry I didn’t recognize you sooner.”

She nodded, relief washing over her. After traveling with the Cha’ori she had cut off her long braid, which Adhim must have remembered, and learned to ride like a man. So long ago. And yet now, after meeting with Adhim, it seemed just like yesterday.

“I’m here to see Kyth and Alder,” she said. “They’re with you, aren’t they?”

Adhim nodded. “Yes. And Kara. She’s also here. It’s the three of them that Dagmara told us to protect.”

Ellah smiled. “Don’t worry, Adhim. We bring them no danger.”

She turned and looked at Mai. Adhim followed her glance, but saw no threat in Ellah’s silent companions. She wondered briefly why it was that Mai and Sharrim hadn’t said a word during the entire encounter, but there seemed to be no reason for them to speak. She had handled things well, hadn’t she?

They gathered the reins and followed Adhim and his party downslope into the Cha’ori camp.

“If we’re to speak of reclaiming our seat on your council,” Dagmara said, “we must have the Forest Mother on our side.”

“I have great respect for Ayalla,” Kyth said. “But why must we seek her help?”

Dagmara exchanged a glance with Garnald standing by her side. “Lady Ayalla is the most powerful being in existence, the one whose magic brought about the world as we know it today. Of course,” she glanced humorlessly at Kyth, “you’re too young to know that.”

And you’re not.
Kyth knew that Dagmara, a woman of incredible powers, was a lot older than a normal human should be, but to hear her talking of bringing about the world…

Having grown up in the Forestlands, he knew a lot of tales about the Forest Mother, and had even met her once when he ventured into the Dark Mire where she lived. Her shroud of magic, powerful and ancient, was all about the forest and its secret life. Little else seemed to interest this strange woman, and if anything could ever catch her fancy, kingdoms and laws seemed to be as far from it as Kyth could imagine.

“Ayalla could never be persuaded to leave the forest,” he said.

Dagmara smiled. “Don’t underestimate her, Prince Kythar. She’s already agreed to come here to meet with the Cha’ori, and we aren’t in the forest, are we?”

“No,” Kyth admitted.

“Trust me on this, Your Highness,” Dagmara said, pronouncing the foreign title with care.

Kyth sighed. “Does Alder have to go across the river to meet her?”

Dagmara glanced at Garnald. “I am told your foster brother shares a special bond with her.”

Alder blushed and lowered his head. The Mirewalkers around him exchanged meaningful looks. Kyth felt like an intruder prying into something that was none of his business.

He hesitated. There shouldn’t be any reason why Alder couldn’t take the trip across the river with the Mirewalkers to meet Ayalla and escort her back to the Grasslands. Yet, Kyth couldn’t escape a heavy feeling that something was about to go wrong. He glanced at Dagmara, standing motionlessly by his side, but the foreteller’s gaze was unreadable.

“We’ll be back soon,” Garnald told Kyth. “The day after tomorrow, at the latest.”

Kyth nodded. He looked at Kara watching Alder with a detached expression that made Kyth uneasy. It was as if Alder was leaving forever, as if she was never going to see him again. Kyth forced himself to relax. Dagmara’s gift of foretelling should warn her of any danger. She wouldn’t send Alder into peril, would she? Not when she had already expressed interest in an alliance with the King.

“Be careful,” Kyth told his foster brother.

Alder laughed. “We’ll only be gone a couple of days. What could possibly happen in such a short time? Besides, I’ll be well protected. No one messes with the Mirewalkers.”

He said it with pride, as if he was talking about his kin, and the men around nodded their acknowledgment as if accepting it. Kyth studied them with curiosity.

It was the first time he had seen so many of the Mirewalkers together. Some of them were familiar from his childhood in the Forestlands, but most of the faces were new. Watching them closely, Kyth realized with surprise that whenever their eyes turned to Alder their expressions changed. There was a strange mix of surprise and reverence in the way they studied Kyth’s foster brother. It was as if Alder was special, as if his trip across the river to meet with Ayalla meant more than a simple detour.

“We must go,” Garnald said. “The Forest Mother is waiting.”

Dagmara nodded.

Kyth watched the Mirewalkers approach the river and descend down its tall bank, his foster brother in their midst. Before disappearing from view, Alder glanced back and gave Kyth a reassuring smile.

When they were gone, Dagmara turned to Kara, her strong-featured face set into a calm mask. “Danger’s close on your heels, Olivian. And I am not sure my hort can protect you.”

Kara nodded. “It’s not your battle. Your people should stay out of it, Dagmara. I just hope if something happens to me you can keep Prince Kythar out of danger.”

Kyth opened his mouth to protest but words froze on his lips as he heard the neighs of horses and raised voices at the edge of the camp. A distant group of riders was approaching at a fast walk. Their silhouettes, outlined against the blaze of the morning sky, seemed familiar.

“
Ellah
?” Kyth stared.

She looked thinner, prettier and more mature than when they last saw each other in the King’s castle before departure. Her confident posture in the saddle spoke of the many days she must have spent on horseback. She smiled and waved to Kyth, urging her horse into a trot.

Kyth frowned in surprise at the sight of Ellah’s companions. Mai was the last person he expected to see here, but there was no mistaking the youthful, arrogant look and the easy grace of the Pentade leader that made even the Cha’ori riding next to him look clumsy by comparison. Men bristled up as Mai rode by.

Kyth’s heart raced. Mai wasn’t supposed to leave his father’s side.
Is father all right?
But if not, Ellah wouldn’t be smiling as she rode beside Mai, would she?

Her other companion was also a Majat, judging by his graceful movements and abundance of weapons, but clearly of a lower rank. Kyth had never seen this man before.

He turned to Kara and realized that she was no longer by his side. He searched around and saw her, a distance away, on a small hilltop. She had drawn her swords, watching the approaching riders.

When Mai’s eyes fell on her, he drew his weapon and threw his horse into gallop. As he approached Kara at breakneck speed, he rose in his stirrups and leapt off the saddle, somersaulting in the air to crash onto her, showering blows with his staff.

Kyth gasped.

Kara met the attack on her blades and pushed Mai back by throwing her weight against him. She spun out of the deadlock and edged away. The moment their bodies separated, a string of arrows whizzed through the air. Kara fended them off with a sword, but as soon as her attention was diverted, Mai thrust forward, the tip of his staff coming through the brief opening in her defense. She jumped sideways and put a blade in his way, but Kyth could see how close Mai’s weapon came.

Where the hell are the arrows coming from?
Forcing his eyes away from the battle, Kyth saw the other Majat who had arrived with Ellah and Mai. He had dismounted and planted himself onto a flat space fifty paces away, keeping the two fighters in a clear line of sight. An arrow rested on top of his bow, but he wasn’t releasing it yet, his eyes fixed on the fight.

Ellah dismounted and ran up to Kyth, panting. “What happened? Why did Kara–”

“I thought you knew! They came with
you
, didn’t they?” Kyth met her bewildered eyes. Then the clash of battle drew him and he forgot all else.

Mai and Kara moved so fast it was difficult to follow. Kara’s blades blended into two fans of air. Mai’s staff was a blur between them, going for every gap and met with a matching blow. He jumped sideways, forcing her to follow. She resisted, trying to draw him back to the original position. It was hard to understand the purpose of the maneuver, until Mai completed the switch and attacked her from the side. As she faced him, her unprotected back came into the full view of the archer. He used the moment to shoot a string of arrows that fountained off his bow as he drew them from his quiver with dizzying speed.

Kyth’s heart raced.
They won’t do anything to harm me
, Kara had told him before.
Don’t try to interfere, however bad it looks.

This looked
really
bad.

As the arrows approached, Kara dropped to a crouch, leaving Mai in the line of fire. He leaned away to let the arrows pass. She used the delay to thrust upward at his chest. One of her blades ripped through his shirt. For a moment it seemed as if the blade had hit flesh. But Mai recovered, stepped aside and parried, showering blows onto her from above. She cushioned the attack by falling back, and bounced off the ground, rebounding to meet his blow midway. The force of his staff made her stumble.

Mai pressed on, landing several more blows she was forced to parry head-on. She edged back to absorb the impact. She was panting, sweat caking her hair, but Mai looked no better. The deadly dance was costing both of them a lot of strength.

I can handle them,
she had said. But it didn’t seem true anymore.

As Kara and Mai separated after another exchange, the Majat with a bow fired a new string of arrows. Kara turned to deflect them, but as soon as she did, Mai attacked her from the other side. She used her blades to fend off both attacks, but this time she wasn’t fast enough. One of the arrows came through and hit her in the forearm.

As soon as it happened, the archer lowered his bow with the air of a man who had done his job.

Kara struggled to regain balance against a renewed attack Mai launched from the side of her injured arm. There was a screech and one of her swords slid out of her hand. Mai pressed on. She backed away, her remaining blade moving with the speed and precision that matched his weapon precisely. Yet it was clear that with her wound and having lost one sword, she wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer.

However bad it looks.

Kyth shook off his stupor. Despite what Kara told him back on the boat, he wasn’t going to just stand here and watch. He drew his sword, vaguely aware of Ellah shouting in his ears, of hands grasping him. He relaxed against the grip and let go, taking in the entire force of the wind roaming through the Grasslands. A powerful surge flowed into his body, filling him with strength far greater than any of them could possibly imagine. An entire Cha’ori hort couldn’t stop him now. He easily shook off their hold and rushed off in the direction of the fighting Diamonds.

When he was almost upon them, Mai’s body unfolded like a whip, knocking Kara’s blade aside with a blow of such vicious force that her entire body shook from the impact. As she fought for balance, the tip of his staff came from the top, aiming straight at the unprotected spot at the base of her neck, where the two collarbones met. His hands slid along the staff. Too late, Kyth recognized the move that set in motion the secret blades, making them spring out of the tips of the deadly weapon.

A click of the released spring rang terrifyingly loud to Kyth’s sharpened senses. The blade hit, thrusting deep into the flesh. It tore through with a ripping sound and withdrew, as Mai flicked his hands again to retract the blades back into the wood.

In the stillness that had descended onto the grass plain, Kara’s body folded backwards, arms out, sword sliding out of her unresisting hand. She fell flat on her back. Blood gushed out of the wound in a few strong pulses and subsided.

With a scream, Kyth raised his sword and leapt, covering the last few paces that separated him from Mai. He let the entire force of the Grassland wind focus into the tip of the blade, aiming it to hit, to kill this man who had just shattered his world. He held nothing back.

Mai knocked Kyth’s blade aside with a careless gesture, as if waving away a fly trying to get to his food. But Kyth’s hand didn’t waver. His blade slid forward along the staff in a sneaky attack that came straight through Mai’s defenses.

The Majat parried just before the blade reached his skin. His eyes widened in surprise. He leapt backward and gripped his staff into a battle hold.

Kyth clenched his teeth and attacked with all his might, showering blows onto his opponent. Mai’s eyes became empty, a ruthless glow in their depths showing Kyth that if he was defeated there would be no mercy. But Kyth didn’t care. All he wanted was to hurt, to kill this man who had just won what had to be the most unfair fight in the world.

They circled around each other and clashed in a face-on attack. It was hard to imagine how someone of Mai’s slight build was capable of such force, but there was no time to wonder. The Diamond advanced, his movements becoming so fast that his entire shape blurred. Kyth could no longer focus on his face. He concentrated on the staff, trying to match its dizzying movements.

The rage building up inside him was overwhelming. He wavered under its strength, the wind filling him with a force too great for him to control. He kept up the melee, but his attack and defense were no longer balanced. Mai’s staff came through, hitting his shoulder. Kyth stumbled under the impact, but recovered to meet the next blow. The staff swept low, aiming to knock him off his feet. He jumped over, looking for a gap to attack. But just as he landed, Mai’s hand unexpectedly swept back.

It came so fast it was hard to see. The blow, aimed higher than before, caught Kyth right below the knees, knocking his legs from underneath him. As he fell, Kyth kept his sword in front, ready to spring back. But the moment he touched the ground, Mai’s staff was already there, thrusting forward in a rotating movement. Kyth’s sword flew out of his hand and landed way out of reach. He pushed off, trying to jump back up to his feet and rush for his weapon, but a blow to his chest sent him back to the ground.

It seemed to Kyth that his heart exploded. As he struggled to recover his breath, he felt the wood at his throat, the end of Mai’s staff pressing hard against his windpipe. Kyth gasped.

Mai’s face appeared over him. It was calm, but his eyes gleamed with anger.

“If you move,” the Majat said distinctly, “you die.”

“Fine.” Kyth clenched his teeth. His eyes darted sideways to where his sword lay, just a few yards away. He focused his strength, trying to twist from underneath the staff point pressing on his throat. If he could just reach his sword…

Mai’s eyes flashed. He changed the grip on his weapon and Kyth recognized the movement that switched on the mechanism to control the retractable blades. In a moment, a sharp steel point would spring out of the end of the staff pressing against his throat. The blow would probably be strong enough to sever his head.

He was out of time.

He didn’t care.

“Do it!” he rasped. “Kill me! Murderer!”

Mai’s hand wavered. His eyes fixing on Kyth slowly acquired a shade of reason. He hesitated and withdrew his weapon.

Kyth grasped his throat with both hands, fighting for breath. His left arm was numb from the earlier blow to his shoulder. His chest hurt where Mai’s staff hit him square in the center, and his lungs burned with lack of air. He wondered if his windpipe was actually broken.