Blades of the Old Empire Read online

  “He must be desperate if he’s willing to offer us so much gold just for leaving Prince Kythar without protection,” Raishan said.

  Egey Bashi lowered his bowl, his eyes thoughtful. “It seemed to me Nimos had something else in mind. Did you see the way he looked at Kara?”

  “Yes.” Kyth’s voice came out more forcefully than he intended. He bit his lip, hiding his embarrassment by staring into the fire. One question continued to bother him all this time. Did his gift help Kara to become immune to the Kaddim? When he looked at her and thought of his feelings toward her, did he transfer some of his resistance to her?

  He was still thinking of it when he went to sleep, sinking into a disturbing dream where hooded figures with orbens crowded in on him from all sides.

  When he woke up, dawn had already lit up the horizon in the east. Alder was still sleeping, but Kara’s and Egey Bashi’s cots were empty. Raishan was busy by the fire. A faint streak of smoke carried the reassuring smell of burning wood and the promise of a hot breakfast. Splashing and voices came from the creek down at the bottom of a shallow ravine beside the camp. Kyth jumped to his feet and made his way down the muddy slope.

  This close to the Ridges, the stream was fast and much too cold for comfort. The chill emanated by the water enfolded him as he approached. Kara rose up to greet him, shaking back her wet hair. The halo of droplets around her head caught the rising sunlight and burst out in tiny rainbows. Then it was gone as she smoothed down her hair, squeezing out the water. She looked so beautiful, her dark skin lit up by the glow of the rising sun, wet hair resting against her neck in a smooth golden wave.

  “Too cold,” she remarked. “Makes your hands stiff.”

  “Damned right,” Egey Bashi said from beside a deeper pool further downstream. He had his robe off, his hairy muscular torso naked down to the waist. Steam rose off his skin as he dipped his arms into the water, splashing it over his back.

  Kara stepped aside, letting Kyth on to the flat patch of the bank where the protruding stones formed a path, reaching the deeper part of the stream. Kyth met her gaze as he walked by and caught her brief smile. He smiled back, but she had already turned away, heading up the muddy bank back to the camp.

  The water was indeed icy cold and as Kyth splashed it onto his face and hair his hands went numb. He hastily finished washing. As he stood up and turned away from the brook, he saw Magister Egey Bashi standing there, watching.

  “Are you all right, Highness?” he asked.

  Kyth hesitated. Since the start of the trip he never found time alone with the Keeper. And now, finally, he had a chance for some answers to questions that had been troubling him for a while.

  “Can I ask you something, Magister?” he said.

  Egey Bashi nodded.

  Kyth swallowed. “Why do you think the Kaddim are after me?”

  Egey Bashi’s face darkened. “I can only guess, Highness. I can’t know for certain.”

  “But you do have an idea, don’t you, Magister? I could see it in your eyes when I first told you and my father about the Kaddim’s attack.”

  The Keeper shook his head. “Guessing serves no purpose, does it?”

  Kyth met his eyes. “Please, Magister. You think I’m facing something terrible. It is important for me to know what it is.”

  “Very well, Highness.” The Keeper spoke with reluctance, averting his eyes. “My guessing amounts to little until we know for sure – and I hope we never will – but here’s what I know. The Kaddim’s magic is very old and powerful. Their ability to subdue their opponents is only a small part of it. Their leader – rumored to be the reincarnation of Ghaz Kadan himself – has the power to absorb magic through a long and torturous process that destroys the original bearer of the gift.”

  Kyth shivered. “You think they’re after my gift?”

  The Keeper nodded. “Your gift, Highness, has to do with controlling the elemental powers. No one knows how it really works, but combined with the Kaddim magic of mind control, it would give them command of virtually everything in this world. These gifts complete each other, multiplying the Kaddim power to make them undefeatable. There would be no stopping them if they succeed.”

  Kyth shivered. “But even with the gift, someone immune to their power can kill them, right?” He thought of Kara and the way Nimos looked at her. Did her immunity make her enough of a threat to the Kaddim?

  Egey Bashi frowned. “Something not commonly known about the Kaddim is their ability to reincarnate. Even though their bodies can be killed, they are technically undead.”

  “But we saw a man die in the castle’s dungeons after Kaddim Tolos’s attack.”

  The Magister shook his head. “That man wasn’t a Kaddim Brother. He was a servant, no more. The true Kaddim Brothers are very few, but they are rumored to have survived in different bodies for centuries, ever since the fall of the old Shandorian Empire, whose last emperor was a Kaddim Reincarnate. If the Brotherhood is on the rise, he is also around somewhere, you can be sure of it.”

  Kyth nodded, his mouth dry. He hoped he wasn’t going to create a dark page in his kingdom’s history by surrendering his gift – and his life – to the Kaddim. Would Kara’s protection be enough to spare him such a fate?

  They returned to camp and, after a quick breakfast, set out on their way.

  During the day the road slowly ascended to the higher grounds, making the horses shift from a trot to a slow walk. The jagged line of the distant Ridges became more substantial, looming in the northwest. In the clear air Kyth imagined he saw snow peaks on the horizon, ghostly shapes above the line of the distant clouds.

  The trees became scarcer, hazel groves giving way to sickly, crooked mountain oaks rising here and there out of the yellowing grass. Protruding boulders painted the surrounding fields with brown and gray spots. The sun was hot but the wind was getting cooler, forcing them to wrap tighter in their cloaks.

  Watching the road ahead, Kyth slowly became aware of a distant patch of greenery, getting more and more visible as they drew closer. It looked like a green grove of oaks, healthier and fuller than their sickly counterparts scattered around the hills. Kyth imagined he could make out houses among the growth, their domed roofs as gray as the boulders around them. Smoke coiled out of the low chimneys, mixing with the afternoon haze.

  Kyth rose in his stirrups to see further ahead.

  “Is that a village?” Alder asked by his side.

  “Middledale,” Raishan said. “There’re hot springs around this place. Very popular with travelers going up to the Ridges. For a moderate price you can get a room with your own bath.”

  This seemed too good to be true.

  “Are we going to stop there for the night?” Alder asked hopefully.

  Raishan and Kara exchanged glances.

  “We were planning to be further ahead by now,” Raishan said. “But horses are not as good on the uphill as lizardbeasts. I guess we could use the break.”

  In another half hour they neared the outer buildings of the strange settlement. Kyth looked around in wonder.

  Low, domed houses rose out of the ground in front of them like giant rain mushrooms. Some buildings consisted of several mushrooms planted side by side, connected by passages and spreading around for a hundred yards each way. Their outside walls were half-hidden by the thick, fleshy crowns of the mountain oaks, whose low thick trunks heavy with lichen sprouted multiple branches in every direction. Each dome had a smoking chimney, but up close Kyth could see that the smoke rising out of them looked more like steam, settling in water droplets over the surrounding greenery.

  “Where’s the moisture coming from?” Alder wondered.

  “Each house has a hot spring inside,” Raishan told him. They need no other heating source here. In fact, it can get downright hot at times.”

  They rode to a larger building toward the middle of the settlement, whose battered sign with a foaming mug on it identified it as an inn. The words underneath it were covered
in lichen, making it impossible to read.

  Warm fog enfolded the large vaulted space of the inn’s common room. Scant daylight found its way through the narrow windows, leaving the dome overhead in shadows. Tables surrounded with sturdy wooden chairs filled the space as far as the eye could see. Some of the tables were set with lanterns, flickering with small tongues of flame.

  As Kyth’s eyes adjusted to the gloom he realized that the center of the room was occupied by a stone basin, where water bubbled and poured over the edges, running along a narrow paved trench into an opening of the wall at the far end. He also realized that the smell of boiled eggs with a faint touch of rot that dominated the room came from the basin itself and not from any of the dishes on the customers’ plates.

  There were very few customers. A large group of men wearing patched travel cloaks sat all the way on the other side, partly hidden from view by the vapors rising from the basin. Several lone figures occupied small tables with lit lanterns along the wall. The rest of the room was empty.

  “Let’s find a table,” Raishan said. “Once we’re settled, Master Olren will be sure to show up.”

  They sat around a table and threw down their gear. Kyth’s clothes and hair were slowly getting damp in the humid air, but the warmth emanated by the water in the basin was a welcome change from the bitter wind outside.

  The innkeeper emerged from the depth of the room and stopped in front of the table. He was short and slim, with thick brown hair and pale gray eyes, wearing an oversized apron over a baggy brown outfit and carrying a damp towel over his shoulder. As he paused to survey the newcomers, he used the edge of the towel to wipe his forehead.

  “Welcome, Master Raishan,” Master Olren said. His northern speech, with hard vowels and softer consonants, told of the man’s local upbringing. “Such a pleasure to have you back with us.”

  Raishan nodded in acknowledgment.

  “We’ll have whatever you’re serving today,” he said. “And a pitcher of ale.”

  “And rooms later on?”

  “Please.” Raishan flicked a coin out of his purse and handed it to the innkeeper.

  Kyth knew the ritual. These small coins that looked like no more than simple coppers came from the Majat Fortress and had a lot of buying power throughout the lands. The price was included in the Majat’s services, making it unnecessary for Kyth to reach into his own purse. The innkeeper took the coin with a solemn face and put it away with such care as if it was a precious gem.

  Today’s meal was a thick goat stew with herbs that gave the dish a slightly bitter taste. It seemed unusual at first, but became better with every bite. By the time Kyth finished his bowlful, he was ready for more. The bread that came with it was dark and sour, but made a perfect accompaniment for the stew. The brew was sweet and smelled of honey. It rolled through the body with warmth, making Kyth realize how tired he was after days of intense riding.

  When they were almost finished with their meal, they saw movement in the large group of men seated on the other side of the room. One of them got up from the table and walked over.

  As he made his way through the fog, his features became more and more familiar. With a sinking heart, Kyth recognized the slight build, short brown hair standing around his head, hollow cheeks, and dark shadows of the eye sockets.

  Nimos came up to their table and stopped beside an empty chair.

  “Long time, no see!” he exclaimed. “Fancy running into all of you here. Mind if I sit down for a moment?”

  “Yes,” Kara said distinctly. “I mind.”

  The man looked her up and down in such a suggestive way that Kyth’s stomach turned.

  “Oh, come now, it won’t even be a minute.” Nimos put his hand onto the chair back and made a move to sit down.

  Kara reached down to her belt in a sweepingly fast gesture, bringing out a fan of throwing knives. Her look became appraising as she balanced the entire pack in her hand, blades out. Then, with a short flick of her wrist, she sent them flying across the table. Knives whizzed through the air and arrived, hitting their target with dry thuds. Everyone gasped.

  Nimos backed away from the chair, his face pale. From where he sat Kyth could see the chair seat covered in protruding knife hilts, sticking out of the wood at even intervals that made the chair look like a balding porcupine. Kyth counted twelve knives, their blades buried deep into the wood.

  It took incredible skill and strength to one-handedly throw so many knives at once. It took even more to have them all go in at such even intervals and penetrate the wood so deeply. Kyth knew how hard it was to provoke the usually composed Kara into such a display. He glanced at her sidelong, but she looked calm as she leaned back into her chair.

  Nimos looked up. Behind the shock, there was a strange satisfaction in his face.

  “Impressive,” he said. “I must learn that trick one day.”

  “I have more knives, right here,” Kara said. “It seems, however, that there isn’t much room left on the chair. I’d need another target for the next throw. Want to stick around for a moment?”

  Nimos cocked his head to one side. “I was hoping you’d reconsidered my offer, Aghat. We did, after all, leave you alone for quite a few days now. As we’re all getting close to the Majat Fortress–”

  She flicked out the knives. Nimos backed off.

  “Only six left,” Kara said. “But I think it would be enough if I only target the vital organs. In fact, I could probably make do with two.”

  Nimos swallowed. “I guess this means we will have to do things the other way, then. Well, maybe it’s all for the best. After all, this way will allow us to see so much more of each other, Aghat Kara. I shall look forward to it.”

  He turned and walked away.

  “He certainly knows a lot about us,” Egey Bashi said slowly.

  “What the hell did he mean by the other way?” Raishan wondered.

  But nobody had any answer to that.

  13

  ILLITAND HALL

  Evan pulled his mount to a stop. The fortress city of Illitand Hall loomed up ahead like a giant beast crawling out of the water. The jagged stone wall spiraled around it like the spine of a stone dragon curled up for sleep. Inside its protective circle the city rose up in cascaded steps toward the distant castle, its elegant shape reigning over the lake.

  The entire city was built on a hill protruding out of the lake near the shore. Technically it was an island, but the strip of water that separated it from dry land was so shallow that a tall man could walk across without getting his shirt wet. Evan had heard stories how during droughts the water receded to make the city stand on land, and how in spring the lake swallowed the stone bridge that connected the island to the main road, keeping carts and wagons away for days at a time. Now, in high summer, the waters stood low, and the bridge lay wide open to the travelers on their way to the lake dwelling of the Illitand lords.

  Evan urged his mount on toward the bridge, but Mai placed a hand on his reins, bringing the horse to an abrupt stop. He used his other hand to signal to the Rubies, who rode up and formed a line at the front of the group, with the King and the women behind.

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty,” Mai said. “But we can’t approach the city on horseback.”

  Evan looked from his bodyguard’s alert shape to the city wall ahead, its massive stones bathed in the warm afternoon sun. The blue haze of the lake made the city look peaceful, like a serene painting by a countryside artist. Yet, from everything he knew about Mai, the Diamond was not prone to sudden panic attacks.

  “Why not, Aghat?” he asked.

  “There’re archers on that wall,” Mai said. “See those slits?”

  The King narrowed his eyes.

  The outer ring of the city wall was composed of roughly hewn boulders that rose to a height of at least three houses out of the lake waters. A row of narrow openings ran along its jagged top, placed at even intervals as far as the eye could see. Looking carefully, Evan could now see mo
vement inside those openings, arrow points protruding just enough to be visible to a careful observer. But surely this was no more than a precaution?

  “They wouldn’t attack their king,” he said.

  Mai’s lips twitched. “Begging your pardon, you don’t look like a king at the moment, Your Majesty.”

  “I’m sure they’ll recognize me when we get closer.”

  “They might. Once we get closer.” Mai met his gaze. In the pause that followed Evan felt a chill run down his spine. The very thought that these men could fire at him from the wall was preposterous. The silent implication that they wouldn’t stop after they recognized their king made it an outrage. Duke Daemur Illitand couldn’t give such an order and risk being beheaded for high treason. And yet–

  “What do you propose to do?” he asked at length.

  Mai raised his hand and pulled his weapon from the strap at his back.

  This was the first time Evan had seen Mai draw his weapon for anything other than the daily polishing ritual. Unwittingly, he gathered his reins tighter to make sure his horse didn’t bolt.

  “I trust you don’t plan to attack the fortress with only five men, Aghat?” he asked.

  Mai shrugged. “We can get you close enough to the wall for them to recognize you.”

  At least two hundred yards of open road separated them from the bridge and the tightly shut gate. The stretch lay open, not a single tree in sight.

  “You propose to walk all this way against the Lakeland archers, Aghat?”

  “Would you rather go back, Your Majesty?”

  Evan looked at Mai in disbelief. He should have stopped questioning the Majat’s skills by now, but he found it hard to imagine five men, armored in no more than light leather doublets, withstand a direct attack of arrows. It was rumored that a skilled Lakeland archer could pierce a metal breastplate from a hundred yards.

  Yet, from everything he knew about Mai, the Diamond was not known for idle boasting. Besides, after all the trouble of getting here, there was no going back.