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Authors: Juliet E. McKenna

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The Assassin's Edge (Einarinn 5) (29 page)

BOOK: The Assassin's Edge (Einarinn 5)
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“No,” said Ryshad firmly. “If we’re going to do this, it just takes the handful of us. Any more and we might as well send a fleet blowing horns and flying flags.”

“You’ll still have Muredarch to deal with,” I pointed out to Halice. “He’s hardly going to throw up his hands just because his pet enchanters lose their master all of a sudden.”

“I cannot take on these pirates without your help, Halice,” Temar said hastily.

“We can deal with them in short order as long as there’s no threat of Artifice.” She looked a little mollified. “Will killing this Ilkehan knock out those three enchanters?”

“Guinalle?” Usara’s gaze hadn’t left her.

“I think so.” The noblewoman looked up and continued with studied neutrality. “If his death is public, certainly public knowledge and widely known as fast as possible. A shameful death, something grotesque or humiliating, that will undercut all the awe he inspires.” Her voice was cold. “His power is founded on fear rather than any true devotion so his death will leave his adepts on little better than shifting sand.”

Ryshad raised an eyebrow at me and I shrugged. I’d been thinking more of sticking a poisoned dagger in the bastard’s back and discreetly running away.

“Shall we cut his head off?” Sorgrad and ’Gren on the other hand were swapping bottles and ideas with conspiratorial glee. “Stick it on a pike for all his folk to see?”

“From everything we know, Ilkehan holds some preeminent position among the Elietimm clans.” Usara was looking thoughtful again. “If we can knock him off the top of the tree, that might well leave the rest of them more interested in squabbling over the spoils than attacking us.”

“Especially once we’ve made it plain taking on Kellarin leaves you so very nastily dead,” Sorgrad agreed with relish.

“Men like Ilkehan keep tight hold on power by cutting down any poppies growing taller than the rest,” said Ryshad slowly.

“Which is a coin with two sides.” I saw the potential weakness in Ilkehan’s armour as plainly as Ryshad. “With Kramisak and Eresken dead, he has no obvious successor.”

“Certainly not if we kill these three here.” Temar looked determined.

“I’ll settle for a likely pay-off, not hold out for bonuses. Killing Ilkehan should leave Muredarch’s enchanters leaderless and that should buy us enough time to deal with the rest of the scum.” Halice looked at Guinalle who nodded reluctant confirmation.

I handed the wine back to Ryshad. “We saw his soldiers fighting those people in the brown liveries again.”

“That other mob who snuck about over here, stealing things and ransacking shrines.” Ryshad pursed speculative lips. “We never did find out what they were about, did we?”

“Let’s find out while we’re there,” suggested ’Gren obligingly.

“This isn’t some trading trip.” Sorgrad gave his brother a withering look. “But we might find ourselves an ally, somewhere safe to run while we’re there.” He raised his brows at Ryshad who nodded slowly. I was relieved to see the two of them showing cautious acknowledgement of the other’s battle wisdom.

“What do we tell Planir?” demanded Usara abruptly.

“Why tell him anything?” countered Shiv. “He made it plain enough we were on our own.”

“But that was before we knew Ilkehan was involved,” protested Usara.

“He said we had a free hand to act for Kellarin as we saw fit.” Shiv shook his head. “Anyway, the Archmage of Hadrumal can no more afford to be associated with summary executions than the Emperor of Tormalin.” Sarcasm sharpened his tone.

“We won’t tell,” said Sorgrad with spurious innocence.

“Not as long as he makes it worth our while.” ’Gren raised a mock serious finger.

“Planir wouldn’t object.” Larissa spoke up defiantly from her corner. “He wouldn’t shirk from exacting such a penalty from any wizard whose abuse of magic truly warranted death.”

“He let that madman Azazir go free.” Shiv let slip a sceptical aside to Pered.

“You don’t know half what Planir does to keep Hadrumal on an even keel, Shiv.” Larissa glared at him. “Wizardry would be in a parlous state without him.”

“I don’t know about that but then I don’t know a lot about wizardry.” Sorgrad jumped down from the table and turned a charming smile on Larissa. “If I’m to be any use backing Shiv on this trip, my lady mage, I could do with some more instruction from you before we leave.”

“Livak!” Guinalle left off studying her hands to get my attention. “I had better drill you in your Artifice, just to make sure it’s all clear in your mind.”

“Very well.” That wasn’t the most appealing prospect.

“Let’s get some sleep and set the pieces in play tomorrow.” Halice started gathering up bottles, nodding to Pered to open the door.

I looked at Ryshad. “Even lower Artifice could save our necks somehow.”

“Indeed. We certainly want every kind of shot in our quiver.” He kissed me before setting me on my feet and standing himself. “Are we sleeping on board ship or ashore?”

“Ashore, please,” I said fervently.

“I’ll get some blankets.” Ryshad ushered Shiv and Pered out, the tall mage still scowling. Sorgrad followed, escorting Larissa out with flattering courtesy, ’Gren sauntering along behind.

“Would he be so admirably eager to learn if the lady mage were not quite such a beauty?” Temar wandered over, face disapproving.

“What was it interested you in studying Artifice with Guinalle, back in the way back when?” I smiled just enough to take the edge off my words. I was certain Sorgrad’s main ambition was getting his hands on Larissa’s staylaces but no one criticises my friends but me. Well, me and Halice.

Temar coloured. “It’s late. I’ll see you in the morning.” Allin jumped up from the stool where she’d sat all but unnoticed and hurried after him.

“Good night.” I left Usara finding comforts for Guinalle that she’d never have looked for herself and went outside, yawning, to meet Ryshad just where the crushed plants around the hut yielded to gritty sand. He had an armful of blankets and we made ourselves comfortable in a discreet hollow.

He lay back and held out an arm. I curled into his embrace and he held me tight.

“Are we doing the right thing?” I asked him. Bold plans made with trusted allies and a reinforcing drink in your hand have to stand up to scrutiny in the cold light of dawn, if they’re not to lead to disaster.

I counted five echoing heartbeats in his chest before he replied. “I can’t see what else to do.”

“Oh, very reassuring,” I grumbled.

“No, I didn’t mean that.” Ryshad shifted slightly so he could wrap both arms around me. “We have to get these pirates out of the islands and we need magic, wizardry to do that. We daren’t risk Shiv and ’Sar or anyone else, if these Elietimm can use Artifice to leave them for dead while they’re at it. For all Guinalle’s skills, she’s certainly no inclination to use aetheric magic to attack people and, frankly, I doubt she’d know how to, even if it came down to a fight between them. It’s just not her way. So you’re right. We need to kill the Ice Man. We’ve seen him trying to cause trouble everywhere he can; pirates this time, in the Mountains last year, in the Archipelago before that. Kellarin will never be safe as long as he’s there. It’s simple.”

“Simple.” I echoed. “I hope it will be.”

“We got out alive last time, didn’t we?” Ryshad kissed my hair. “And we didn’t know what we were facing, nor yet have magic to back us, not after Shiv got that smack on the head.”

I turned my face to him, dim in the darkness. “Geris or Aiten didn’t get out.”

“Geris didn’t have an aggressive bone in his body, from what you’ve told me, nor yet a suspicious one.” Ryshad cleared his throat. “So he never stood a chance. Ait, poor bastard, he was just cursed unlucky.” He sighed. “But he always said if the dawn turns up your death runes, there’s nothing to be done about it.”

“I prefer to make my own luck,” I muttered.

Ryshad hugged me close. “We know what we’re dealing with and we’ve got Shiv, Sorgrad and ’Gren to back us.”

“Yes, we have.” I craned my head back to kiss his bristly cheek. “You need a shave.”

“In the morning,” he yawned. “Now go to sleep.”

Since there was nothing else I could do, I did.

Shernasekke, Islands of the Elietimm,
2nd of For-Summer

With everyone agreed that Ilkehan must die, we’d woken to a day of ceaseless activity that somehow managed to be incredibly tedious. By the time we were standing between Larissa and Allin, with Usara and Shiv discussing who should act as focus for their nexus of magic, all I felt was relief that we were finally leaving. That was before I remembered just how revolting it felt to be flung across the leagues by wizardry. I can’t begin to describe the solace of gravel crunching beneath my boots. I ground my feet just to hear the noise again. A few deep breaths helped settle my stomach and the painful ringing in my ears faded to be replaced by a soft murmur of surf. I knuckled my eyes to try and clear the yellow flashes obscuring my vision.

“Are you all right?” Ryshad steadied me with concerned hands.

“Just about,” I said with some irritation. “You seem fine.” He grinned sympathetically. “I don’t get seasick either.” I looked round for the others. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Sorgrad said absently, deep in thought about something.

I managed a slight smile. “How long before you work out that trick?”

“Give me time,” winked Sorgrad.

“Don’t try translocation without me or ’Sar around,” Shiv told him seriously. “Not until you get the hang of it. With a dual affinity, you’ll end up—”

“Why are we waiting for someone to come and cut our throats for us?” demanded ’Gren impatiently.

Ryshad looked around the rocky beach. “Let’s find some cover.”

There was precious little on offer. Dark rubble was strewn over sands the colour of wood ash, the grey sea lapping the shallow shore. Slews of stinking weed tangled between the boulders, hiding hollows and pits to sink the unwary up to their knees. Out to sea, the mists of the late afternoon blurred the line between water and sky. They could have been hiding a double handful of ships for all I could tell. We had to get off this exposed shore.

Ryshad headed for a scar worn by feet, human or animal, where the pebbles rolled up beneath a sharply undercut bank topped with a stretch of dusty green turf. We all looked cautiously over to see a stretch of scrubby grassland running up to a steep ridge of broken rock. Greater heights beyond were blunt and sere and, even in this first half of summer, topped with a rime of white that could only be snow. These dismal islands felt half a world away from the rich lushness of Suthyfer, even if Temar’s charts said different.

“Does this look familiar?” Sorgrad shifted the satchel he wore to his other shoulder.

“Yes.” I’d have laughed in the face of anyone who’d told me I’d come back to these islands. But here I was and, worse, it was my own god-cursed idea.

“Close enough, Shiv.” Ryshad grinned at the mage whose answering smile betrayed his relief.

“Come on.”

’Gren was already on the top of the bank, looking in all directions, dagger ready.

“We want to bear that way.” Shiv had a map, thanks to Pered’s assiduous work with pen and ink all morning while the three of us scoured every memory of our previous visit here. ”That village is over yonder, so hoods up.”

Ryshad and I obliged while Sorgrad ostentatiously ran a hand over his own golden head. “Try to look like we belong, ’Gren.”

“For the moment,” Gren chuckled with happy anticipation.

“Let’s not get close enough for anyone to wonder.” I didn’t imagine there were too many redheads hereabouts and we didn’t want anyone seeing we were armed, never mind Ryshad and Shiv’s dark colouring.

We moved off and, away from the scour of the wind, I saw summer had swathed the few stunted trees in leaves. “There’s barely enough forage for an unfussy donkey,” I said uneasily to Ryshad. “We should have brought more food.”

“Carrying too much will just get us noticed.” He continued scanning the flat plain.

“Don’t worry,” Sorgrad smiled. “We’ll be honoured guests before nightfall and fed to suit.”

“What was that?”

’Gren halted and we all stood still.

I heard a faint scrabbling and what could have been a warning voice, muffled and incomprehensible. “Where’s that coming from?” A faint shiver ran down my spine.

Sorgrad dropped to his knees and we all did the same.

“What are you doing?” he said, surprised.

“The same as you,” I told him tartly. “Why?”

He nodded to a hole in the turf. “Whatever’s making your noise is down there.”

“That’d be a tight fit for a hungry rabbit.” Ryshad got up, brushing fine, dusty earth from his breeches. “I don’t think we need worry.” Wary amusement lessened the tension in the air.

“I wonder what it is.”

’Gren knelt, hand reaching for the burrow.

“Something that could bite your fingers off and leave you with festering stumps?” I suggested. “Just leave well alone.”

“There’s someone coming.” Shiv tucked his map in the breast of his hooded jerkin. We saw a solitary figure carefully removing the larger stones that served for a gate in one of the low walls dividing this barren hinterland.

“Move.” Ryshad set a pace just fast enough to suggest purpose but not so hurried to attract attention.

The edge of my hood hid the figure from me, which left my back itching. “What’s he doing?”

“Nothing. Just keep going.” Sorgrad led us towards a low notch in the jagged ridge. ’Gren didn’t bother with the narrow path, heedless boots crushing the few flowers crouching in the coarse grass, bruised herbs momentarily sweetening the gusting breeze.

“Keep a weather eye out for goats,” I warned him. “We could barely move without tripping over the cursed things last time.”

“Let’s see that map, Shiv.” Sorgrad ducked into a sheltered hollow between two tall boulders sticking through the grass like broken teeth.

Ryshad and I each held a corner flat against the lichen-spotted stone.

“We need to go north.” I traced a line on the parchment.

BOOK: The Assassin's Edge (Einarinn 5)
13.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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