Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1) (12 page)

Images flashed through Arjun’s mind of the city guards
in his father’s house, of Keda’s screams, of poor Naram-Enki dying in his own
blood, and of Eb-Sim, whose death cries he’d heard as he fled.

Hate and rage filled his heart.

Without a word, Arjun ducked low, coming on at full
speed as the surprised guards came to a clattering stop and raised their
swords. The guards were used to many situations, but having a seemingly unarmed
man charge them head on was not among them. He used his momentum to slam the
guard on the right into the wall as he whipped his dagger around, dodged the
guard’s sword, and then drove the blade up through the other’s waist and vitals
from below. In an instant, Arjun withdrew it and spun around to deflect the
stabbing strike of the second guard.

Inina, momentarily ignored, darted forward and thrust
her dagger into second guard’s throat. He twisted around in agony and surprise,
snapping the obsidian-edged blade, but opening his own horrible wound even
further. He tried to raise his sword at Inina, but fell dying instead. Arjun
turned to the first guard, who was groaning in pain, but recovered his sword,
and was slowly inching his way up the wall by his back. Arjun brought his
dagger point down in the gap in the guard’s armor where his neck met his
shoulder, and drove it deep with his weight from above. The man died without
another sound.

However they could hear loud sounds from the informer
and the other ten guards, who were now approaching in the alley behind them.
Arjun drew his sword, pulled his dagger from the corpse and handed it to Inina,
and the two of them fled for their lives.

~

Naram dra Zash-Ulshad sat in his darkened private
chambers, marble and precious stones paneled the walls, carpets lay on the
floor, and incense burned in a large brazier behind him. He was pondering the
tools at his disposal.

Ayab iru Heb was perhaps the least dangerous of them,
which was ironic given the fear in which slavers were held. The man had built a
highly useful empire of allies, spies, and servants across the Hayyidi lands,
from Ayad and Eladi in the north to Ul-Nim in the empire of Sarsa. Many an
indebted peasant, many a poor girl of the streets, many a nomad or hill
tribesmen of the interior had fallen into the nets of his men. But Ayab wanted
no more than wealth made in that manner, and the power to continue doing so.
Moreover, he had no heir, and if, or rather when, he died, his empire would, if
it could be prevented from collapse, fall into Naram’s own hands.

Mada dra Keshil dealt with all things with a strong
hand, and was of all of them the best at organizing and marshaling the power
they were gathering to themselves. He reflected also that she would never
accept open rule by him, and her pride had necessitated pretenses of equality
among their circle. She was cunning, alert, and ruthless, but she was very old,
and her daughter was more tractable. He could wait for the passage of time.

Shalmansar, high priest of Ur-Laggu was another
matter. The fanatic priest might live many years, and he was anything but
tractable. However, his powers and support were essential, and his goals, for a
long time, would align with Naram’s own. In the end though, Shalmansar’s vision
of a theocracy ruled by the mouthpieces of the gods, men such as him, could not
be allowed to come to pass. Naram thought the man’s larger ideas, implying a
new war of the gods and the end of the age, were implausible, but he was taking
no chances. Naram had uncovered many secrets that others thought well hidden,
and one of them was that the inner doctrine of Ur-Laggu, as held by the grand
priests at Har, was not in accordance with Shalmansar’s ideas. Zakran’s high
priest had far exceeded his authority, and revealing that fact at the right
time to the right people would bring about his swift, and most unpleasant,
demise.

Last and most dangerous of their inner circle was
Bal-Shim. Naram, finder of secrets, knew something of what hid in the heart of
that smiling and ever more popular man. He had plied Bal-Shim with slave girls
from one of his less-well known enterprises, and the reports they gave of his
inclinations had led Naram to provide other, less fortunate, girls from a most
secret enterprise. Unfortunately, they failed to live through their time with
Bal-Shim. So at last, Naram gave one of them certain drugs obtained from the
G’abudim that kept her alive a little while afterward. Dying, she had wanted
revenge in any form she could on the son of Shulggi, wanted it enough to
confide even in the master who had sent her to him, and she had revealed things
the man had gloated in his ecstasy. Naram had thereby learned enough to be
prepared for the time when he would need to dispose of Bal-Shim, and at the
cost of only a few of his cheaper slaves.

But none of them, nor his wife and his half-grown
sons, or indeed anyone still living, knew of the secret Naram dra Zash-Ulshad
kept for himself. A secret he had uncovered not so long ago, far underground beneath
the city, and that had led directly to his formation of the circle now around
him. A secret he believed no one had known since the founding of the city three
thousand years earlier. Of the lineages of the twelve founding lords, there
were many descendants, but after so many ages, only two lines left who still
bore the old names, and in whom the old signs could still be discerned. When
Artashad was put to an end, Zash-Ulshad alone would remain, and then when the
other necessary pieces were in place, oh yes then, would all discover the
meaning of his secret.

12.
The Tale of the Spark of Life

Arjun held Inina in his arms in their little bed. Over
her objections, he’d bought a slightly larger one through Lurshiga, but even
that required them to sleep in very close contact. They did not mind.

He’d just returned from a day of training in arms, and
she from a day of working her network of friends, gathering information
wherever she could. As he held her, he remembered how close they’d come, just
two nights before, to death at the hands at a squad of guards. They’d killed
two of those men, and now even those on the council who might have seen his
feud with Bal-Shim as understandable would be forced to act against the slayers
of city guardsmen.

As his hands roamed the familiar curves of Inina’s
body, he noticed something unfamiliar, the slightest hint of firmness and bulge
in her belly. She tensed.

“Inina?”

“Arjun, I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure,
but I’ve been to Sina the midwife, and she confirmed it… I’m pregnant. What… do
you plan to do?” She began to shake, and then cry as emotions and fear swept
over her.

Arjun looked surprised, then concerned, “What do you
mean, what do I plan to do?”

“I… well, you’re a rich merchant’s son, and of one of
the old aristocratic families, and I know you can’t marry someone like me, but
will you… take care of our baby?” she sobbed.

“Inina, I’m sorry for my stupidity in not talking
about this earlier. I guess in the middle of all my plans, I didn’t think about
pregnancy and children, or much else except how much I love you,” he said as
took her in his arms, “But,” he continued, “Who said I can’t marry you? My
father is in prison, and in his absence, I head house Artashad, all one of us.
Now, let that be two.”

She started, and peered up at him through red-rimmed
eyes.

“Inina, will you be my wife?”

She covered him in kisses, clung to his neck,
whispered love in his ear, and then remembered she was supposed to answer.

“Of course, my love, yes, I will,” then she thought
further, “But what if you succeed in getting your father out? What will he
say?”

“My father is a very understanding man. I think he’ll
be grateful and support my choice. In any case, we’ll all be fugitives. We
might have to flee the city, and then any dynastic dreams he may have had
regarding my marriage prospects will be as dust.”

“Flee the city?”

“I hope not, but if you want to make a life with me,
that is among the possibilities.”

“I do my love, I do. Come what may.”

And they set to work practicing to make another baby.

~

In Shirin’s training room, protective magics crackled
and engraved traceries faintly glowed. The magus sat in his chair amidst a
circle of power, and the apprentice stood before him.

“I have chosen the spells I ask to learn, master,” said
Arjun.

“Name them now,” replied Shirin.

“Master Shirin, I beseech you to teach me The Lesser
Portal of Flame, The Eyes of Comprehension of Truth, The Eyes of Comprehension
of Darkness, The Words of Opening, and The Forge of the Least of Worlds.”

Shirin’s eyes narrowed as he surveyed his student.

“Arjun my apprentice, most content themselves with one
or two as a start, and they have more time at their disposal than do you. The
two spells last named are usually studied by those with much greater lore and experience
than yourself, and one preceding them will require more explanation from you,
and to you. Let us begin, however, with the first. Why, apprentice, do you wish
to learn the Lesser Portal of Flame?”

“Master, I wish to learn so that I may call forth fire
directly from its own plane, and fire is a most useful thing. As one who honors
Zamisphar, this has greater meaning for me than for most others”

“And on what sort of object do you wish to inscribe
the circle and the signs?”

“I wish to construct the circle and the signs purely
with magic on my own open hand, as is done by the high adepts of Zamisphar.”

Again Shirin watched his apprentice, this time with a
hint of wonder in his expression.

“That will be most difficult, apprentice, but as one
who has been well taught in the lore of Zamisphar, it may be within your
abilities even in such time as we have. I will teach you. Now, apprentice why
do you wish to learn The Eyes of Comprehension of Truth?”

“I wish to learn so that I will no longer have
difficulties seeing the gleam and feeling the energy of magic in bright light
or when there is much activity. As this is a spell I have read many magi put
directly on themselves rather than through a lens or glass, so I wish to.”

“Apprentice, did you say you can see the light and
feel the energy of magic already?”

“Yes, master, in dim light I see it and in quiet
spaces I feel it, cannot all do so?”

“No. Some magic of its nature gives off light visible
by all, but most does not. Those who are untrained can, at best, out of the
corners of their eyes, or in some altered state of dreams or madness catch such
things as a faint sense. Yet as soon as they try to look directly at the magic,
or focus their attention upon it, the sense fades. Have you hidden something
from me and received prior training?”

“No master.”

“Then you have some mark or sign upon you. I know not
from where it might come, though your family is an ancient one, older than the
city itself, and who knows what may have befallen them in those millennia? I am
no historian, but will give this matter such study as I can. In the meantime,
though I wonder, I will teach you. Now, apprentice why do you wish to learn The
Eyes of Comprehension of Darkness?”

“Master, I wish to learn so that I may see in darkness
without the need for fire or lamp, should the need be there.”

“My apprentice, there are far simpler ways to deal
with such problems, most commonly by the enchantment of some minor object with
a spell of light, or for those more adept, by the preparation of a contingent
one upon one’s person. Do you understand the true meaning of the words
comprehension of darkness?”

“I fear now master, that I do not.”

“Apprentice, this magic does not allow one to see IN
darkness by deft use of the least light, as does the enchantment known as The
Eye of The Cat, rather it makes one see darkness itself, and such things as are
in and of it. It is such sight as ghouls and spirits of the dark possess. One
may well wish not to see the things revealed, though they are present among
those who see them not.  Do you still wish to learn this magic?”

In his mind, Arjun saw nightmares of his time in the
sewers. Yet, he thought, by comprehending such darkness, by knowing it, he
would escape its power. Or at least, so he hoped. He steeled his heart and
cleared his mind, then spoke.

“Yes master.”

“Arjun, my apprentice, this magic is very rarely, and
with great difficulty, cast directly upon oneself, and its effects are
difficult to undo. However, I will guess that like the others, you wish to do
exactly that. Do you still wish to learn this magic?”

“Yes master, is as you have said.”

Shirin made the slightest gesture of resignation, and
a spoke again, “I will teach you. Now, apprentice why do you wish to learn the
Words of Opening?”

“My master, so that I may defeat and undo wards that
may block my way or seek to strike me down.”

“Know then, apprentice that the Words by themselves
are of little use, for to undo wards requires an understanding of the wards
themselves, and thus far more knowledge of the underlying laws of magic, and of
its lore, than you yourself now possess. Even so, the Words are difficult to
master, and are, like all magic, dangerous when improperly used. Do you still
wish to learn this magic?”

“Yes master.”

“You will heed my words as you learn, and the skill to
actually use them to good effect must unfold over a longer span of time than I
think we have, but still, I will teach you. Now, my apprentice, why do you wish
to learn the Forge of the Least of Worlds?”

“Master, so that I may make a place wherein to hide
small but useful objects until they are needed, a place invisible to all others
but at my call.”

“My apprentice, know that this is very difficult magic
normally learned only by those who have great mastery and long experience. Its
name is more true than you know. To make such a place by magic is in truth to
create a tiny world, a small plane of existence at your command. And moreover,
it is very dangerous, for creating such a world requires opening a hole in this
one. And, unlike The Lesser Portal of Flame, this opening is not tied
inextricably to a certain destination. If the opening goes ill, things from
outside may come in.”

“And, apprentice,” continued Shirin, “the normal use
of this magic, even by those adept, is to inscribe portals to the created
planes inside boxes, on hidden places in walls, or on seal stones that thereby
form the caps to invisible containers. You likely know that certain men of
great wealth have items of this kind. It is for good reason that they are so
rare and expensive. However, I shall guess that once again you wish to learn to
do this invisibly through your mind and will, a method which means only you can
cast it, if it is to work for you. Do you still wish to learn this magic?”

Arjun replied with grim resolve, “Yes my master, it is
so, and as you have spoken.”

Shirin then put his hand to his chin, fingers on his
beard, and thought a long time. At last he spoke.

“Arjun, do you promise me, my apprentice do you swear
to me, that you will not use this magic anywhere but here in this secure room
and under my supervision, until such time as I release you?”

“Yes, my master, I so swear.”

“Give me your oath before gods and men.”

Arjun did so, in the full old form.

“Very well then, I will teach you.”

~

Some days later, Enlil iru Geb, master of weapons,
watched his apprentice Sharur. The young man was learning well, far better than
he, Enlil, admitted to him. In fact, when he thought about it, the boy was
better than anyone he’d trained in the twenty years since he’d become a master
himself. But that didn’t mean all was well. In his time training Sharur, he’d
rarely spoken to him about anything other than what was at hand, and at all
times. Now he knew he had to.

They were taking one of their brief breaks, and Sharur
was sitting on a stone, his eyes distant but thoughtful, as they often were.

“Apprentice, come here.”

His apprentice rose and approached, eyes suspicious
and form tense and ready.

“Sharur, I give you my word I will not try any tricks
while we discuss what I’ve got to say to you. I’ll let you know when we’re back
under training rules.”

“I’m ready, master Enlil.”

“You know that I said at the beginning, no questions
asked by either party, and I’m not going to ask you anything now, but I’ll tell
you that something that has put me on edge.”

The young man looked at him with a hint of worry in
his eyes.

“Sharur, twice now in the past few days, guards have
come round looking for someone named Arjun dra Artashad, and given a
description that sounds a lot like you, before you changed your look. I’ve seen
notices offering a reward that is now up to a hundred gold suns for the capture
of this same person, and lately I’ve even met random people roundabout asking
around for him, probably looking for that reward. If I were this Arjun, I think
I’d get myself out of the city, instead of sticking around waiting for the
hammer to fall.”

Enlil was now sure he saw worry in Sharur’s eyes, and
when he spoke, he heard it in his voice.

“And were I Arjun, master Enlil, I’d make sure no harm
came to anyone connected with me, getting clear of them if I had to. But who
can say why Arjun himself might stay in town?”

“Reasons having nothing to do with revenge, or
training for it, I’m sure,” replied Enlil.

~

Days later still, Arjun stood before Shirin in the
training room, his palm upraised. In it was a circle of magic and glyphs, a
circle visible only to those who could see magic with their waking unclouded
eyes, a circle that he and his master could both see. From the circle leapt a
small flame, no bigger than a finger, but it burned steady and bright.

Shirin’s face beamed.

“Arjun, I’ve never seen anyone master those magics in
such a short time, let alone doing so without carved inscriptions and the items
to bear them. Ah! I Shouldn’t be saying this to you, such praise isn’t good
form for training…”

Shirin composed himself, and his speech returned to
its normal formality.

“My apprentice, do not take my praise for more than it
is, and do not fill your head with pride, for that leads to recklessness, which
has been the undoing of many a magus.”