The Assassin's Edge (Einarinn 5) (46 page)

Sorgrad looked curiously at Shiv. “Just how are you going to do that?”

“Who’s carrying a candle?” Shiv squatted down and began shaving spite nettle roots into fine strips with his belt knife. “And I need something to hold water.”

Sorgrad sighed as he produced a small silver cup from his belt pouch. “I generally use this for wine.”

“Don’t see a lot of that around here.” ’Gren dug in his pockets and produced a candle end. I found two short stubs in my pack.

Ryshad offered a plain horn cup to Shiv. The wizard took it. “Thanks. I reckon using magic for this is safer than lighting a fire. Smoke and light will carry and it’ll take ten times as long.”

Ryshad nodded reluctantly. “I suppose Ilkehan would have to suspect someone was using magic to come looking for it, but the faster the better, Shiv. We’ll keep watch all the same.”

Apprehension prickled between my shoulder blades as I matched Ryshad walking around the isolated dell, looking up and down the narrow winding valley, straining to hear any hint of booted feet or stifled whispers in the darkening shadows. I sternly curbed my fancy when I found I was dwelling on all the things that could go wrong with this madcap scheme. All right, it was a high stakes game, the highest in fact, but the trick to any hand is playing each throw of runes as they fall. I had plenty of advantages on my side as well; Ryshad’s intelligence, Shiv’s magic and the brothers’ capacity for unflinching mayhem. And it was Sorgrad who’d taught me you win even the most trivial of games by playing as if you were gambling with Poldrion for his ferry fee to the Otherworld.

“Ready.” Shiv called in a low voice. The sight of ’Gren rubbing blue candle grease into his face gave me the first good laugh of this day and a good few since.

“Do you think we’ll set a new fashion?” Sorgrad was kneeling with his head bent as Shiv carefully slopped black liquid into his hair.

“How easily will this wash off?” I dipped a suspicious finger into the smoky blue tallow.

“I’m not sure,” Shiv answered frankly. “Don’t put it on too thickly. A little will go a long way and we don’t have any to waste.”

“I’ll do you, if you’ll do me,” invited Ryshad, scooping some into his palm.

“That’s the best offer I’ve had all day.” I fluttered flirtatious eyelashes at him.

Ryshad’s hands were gentle on my face as I relished in my turn the feel of bristles roughening his strong jaw and the smoother skin around his hairline. He brushed his lips against the inside of my wrist and we shared a private smile. If this was all the intimacy we could get before we risked our lives, we’d make the most of it.

“So, we watch the keep and work out where Ilkehan will be.” Sorgrad returned to planning the detail of our attack as he lifted his chin to colour his neck. “What’s our actual path in?”

“Through the drains and cellars?” I suggested. “That’s the way we got out last time.”

“We go straight for Ilkehan, hit him as hard as we can, all of us at once,” said Ryshad.

Sorgrad nodded. “Kill him before he can decide which of us to attack first.”

I couldn’t restrain a shiver. “It’s not going to be like last time,” Ryshad promised, holding my gaze.

“We should use some black in the last of the skin paint,” ’Gren said suddenly. ”Fill in the hollows of our eyes, like Sheltya do.” His hair was black as midnight now and his teeth were startling white against a face almost the hue of the dusk sky above.

“That’s a sound idea.” I’d forgotten how unearthly that made the Mountain practitioners of Artifice look.

“I wonder what the Sheltya know of the Plains People and the Eldritch Kin,” mused Ryshad.

“We’ll ask Aritane when we get back, shall we?” I smiled at him.

“When we get back,” he echoed.

“Who’ll be buying the drinks?” demanded ’Gren. It plainly didn’t occur to him that there was any doubt we would be getting out of this. I decided to adopt his certainty. Belief was everything in these islands, wasn’t it?

Suthyfer, Sentry Island,

7th of For-Summer

I do not see that you have the authority to tell me I cannot come.” Temar silently cursed whatever god had made Halice taller than him.

“We’ve made our plan and you agreed it.” Sat on a crude bench outside the cabin, the level strokes of her whetstone didn’t vary as the mercenary sharpened her sword. “Changing horses midstream is a quick and stupid way to drown. Yes, Pered?”

“Sketches of the enchanters.” The artist waved a sheaf of parchment scraps. “I’ve done my best from Guinalle’s descriptions.”

Halice nodded. “Given them to Minare and Rosarn. Tell Vaspret I want to see him, if you get a chance.”

Pered swept a mock salute and sauntered off.

“If I come with you, I can lead another assault.” Temar wasn’t going to give up that easily.

“Leading assaults isn’t your job,” said Halice bluntly. “You’re not leading a cohort any more, you’re leading a colony.”

“With every man we can muster, we could finish this tonight,” cried Temar. “Kill Muredarch and have done.”

“You’re forgetting those enchanters,” Halice chided. “We’re hitting the stockade, that’s all.” She tilted the blade to catch the firelight and studied the edge. “I’d like to string Muredarch up by his pizzle for what he did to Naldeth, but all in good time, my lad. Tonight we free as many prisoners as we can and then we run before those enchanters have their hands off their tools long enough to wonder where their boots are.” Halice held the heavy sword’s hilt easily in her broad hand and very carefully shaved a little swathe through the dark hairs on her forearm. “As soon as Livak tells us Ilkehan’s dead, we’ll make Elietimm and pirates both sorry they ever set eyes on each other.”

What if Ilkehan couldn’t be killed? Temar was trying to find the words to ask this without risking rebuke when Usara came out of the cabin.

“Could you keep the noise down?” the wizard asked with terse politeness. “Guinalle’s overtired and overwrought. You two bickering out here is the last thing she needs.”

“How’s Naldeth?” asked Halice.

“Asleep.” The wizard looked weary to the bone. “If you can get anything more out of Guinalle than ‘he’s as well as can be expected’ let me know.”

“Are the pirates still convinced there’s no way we can reach them at night?” Halice demanded.

Usara nodded. “Them and the enchanters as well, apparently.”

“Then she should sleep while we go and prove them wrong.” Halice slid her sword into its sheath. “Temar, tell Guinalle we’ll need her rested if we bring back wounded. She might take heed of that. Darni!”

The burly warrior was a little way down the beach, mercenaries and sailors gathered round him.

“She says she can’t rest in case Naldeth suffers some crisis.” Usara’s thoughts were still inside the hut with Guinalle. “He’s lost so much blood, she’s worried she’ll have to strengthen his heart again. I could do that much with wizardry but she won’t even let me try.”

Temar’s mind was on his own grievances. “I don’t see why Darni is the only choice to lead the other half of this assault.”

Usara wasn’t listening, seeing Allin come to join Darni and Halice. Darni laughed abruptly and Halice scrubbed a hand through her short hair, face intrigued. “What are they up to?”

“Let’s find out.” Temar rose and Usara followed as they hurried to catch Halice and the big warrior disappearing into the shadows behind the cabin.

“Curse it.” Temar stumbled awkwardly on a treacherous tree root. With clouds covering the lesser moon barely at her half and her greater sister waning from her own, the night was a confusion of half-light and shadow.

“I appreciate you want to attack on the darkest night we’ll have before Solstice but that hampers your troops just as much as the enemy.” Larissa’s cool voice only served to warm Temar’s resentment at being excluded.

“I don’t have time for admiring clever mages,” Halice warned bluntly. “Shit!”

Temar felt Usara freeze, as startled as him.

“How did you do that?” Halice asked cautiously after a moment.

“Do what?” demanded Usara with frustration equal to Temar’s own.

“Light is made up of varying degrees of heat.” Pride bubbled irrepressibly in Larissa’s voice. “If you see the warmth—”

“I can see in the dark.” Halice’s wonder finished the sentence for the mage-girl. “How long does it last and how many of us can you bespell?”

“Barely half a chime.” Larissa sounded annoyed with herself.

“We can bespell two or three of you,” Allin offered meekly.

“Each of us,” clarified Larissa quickly. “Call it a handful between us.”

“Better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.” Laughter rumbled deep in Darni’s chest. “Kalion had better look to his conjuring when you get back to Hadrumal, ladies, or one of you’ll be nominated Hearth Mistress inside the year.”

“It was mostly Allin’s idea.” Larissa didn’t sound displeased with the praise though. “Once we decided not to provoke Muredarch by drying up his wells.”

“Larissa saw how to make it work,” insisted Allin.

“We need to refine it before it’s a truly effective spell.” The clouds cleared a little and Temar saw Larissa raise a hand. “Usara? Can you help?”

“How do we make this work for us?” mused Halice. “How much can I see where there is some light?” She headed back for the beach, the mages close around her, watching alertly.

Temar hurried after them. “You’d need a second in command whose vision isn’t altered.”

“You’re not coming.” Darni stretched out an arm like a fence rail to hold him back. “We can’t chance your loss or capture.”

“I can hold my own in a fight,” Temar said stiffly.

“Emperors fall face down in the shit, just the same as peasants.” Darni gave the young nobleman a hard look. “The rest of us are expendable. You’re not.”

“How long would Guinalle hold out if she saw you being dipped for the sharks?” Halice turned the corner of the hut and swore. “Shit, I can’t look anywhere close to a fire. It hurts worse than taking it up the back alley.” She mopped her streaming eyes.

“Stand still.” Larissa passed her hands across the mercenary’s face.

“That’s better.” Halice grunted with satisfaction “Mind you, in the right place this could weight the runes for us. Can all three of you do this?”

“It’ll be easy enough to show Usara the trick of it,” said Larissa confidently.

“You can’t all be going?” Temar stepped around Darni’s arm. “I shall need a mage here, surely. Allin can stay.” Larissa could risk her neck with her ill-concealed ambitions, but Allin was far too precious to him. That abrupt realisation blinded Temar as effectively as the firelight in Halice’s bespelled eyes.

“We need all the mages this time,” said Halice with perfunctory apology.

“What if you need to bespeak me?” Temar objected. Was there any way he could insist Allin stayed aboard ship rather than join the actual assault?

“You’ll just have to keep a good watch out,” Darni told him. “We need the wizards to get us all ashore without lights.”

“There is one thing you can do for us, Messire D’Alsennin.” Halice snapped her fingers at the young man. “Tell them why we’re going. That’s a Sieur’s job.”

Temar gathered his wits as he saw the array of expectant faces among the campfires on the beach. Catching sight of Allin’s hopeful face, radiant with trust, he realised he had to find the words to make these people fight fiercely enough to bring her back safe. He bowed to the waiting men and women, mercenaries, sailors and Kellarin folk, the golden firelight making equals of them all against the velvet blackness of sea and sky. All of them bowed back and Temar cleared his throat.

“I know some of you and you know me, after these last seasons working for Kellarin’s benefit. I don’t suppose Sieur D’Alsennin means a lot to the rest of you; I’m sorry I’ve had so little chance to introduce myself as yet. Forgive me; we’ll do something about that on your return. You might pick up a few barrels of Kellarin’s wine that those thieves have stolen. It’s always easier to make new friends over a drink.”

A ripple of appreciative laughter encouraged him. Temar waved a negligent hand.

“You’ll be well paid, that goes without saying, but all the gold ever minted can’t buy a life and it’s the lives of those innocents in that foul stockade you must fight for tonight. You’ve all heard what was done to Naldeth. You’ll not stand to see that done to anyone else, will you?”

A dour chorus of agreement ran around the sands and Temar saw righteous anger on most faces, coloured here and there with ferocious anticipation.

“This isn’t the night for making those scum pay for their crimes, mind you. That’ll come soon enough, never fear. Tonight you take away the stick they think they can beat us with. Then we wait for friends elsewhere to cut away the prop of their treacherous magic. Once that’s gone we’ll send them all so fast to the shades there’ll be standing room only in Poldrion’s ferry. Saedrin himself will have them drawing lots to see who steps up first.”

That didn’t get much of a laugh so Temar stopped straining his eloquence.

“Go in, get the prisoners, get back here with your skins whole.” He shrugged. “It’s simple enough. You know what you’re doing.”

That won him a rousing cheer and a slap on the shoulder from Halice. “We’ll make a leader of you yet, my lad.”

“Not if you keep calling me that,” he retorted.

“We’ll keep it between you and me, then.” She grinned, unapologetic. “Come on, Allin, Usara.”

Halice didn’t look back as she strode down the beach, her handpicked troop gathering around her. She’d stop calling Temar ‘lad’ when he’d earned the respect to go with the title birth and chance had conferred upon him. Not that he was doing so badly, she allowed, though that romantic streak would have had him long dead in the viciousness of the Lescari wars.

“What’s the joke, boss?” Minare was at her elbow, the rest following on behind.

“Nothing.” Halice’s smile vanished. “We’re ready for dealing out blood and filth and death and pain?”

“All single minds and no hearts,” Minare confirmed. “I should have known there’d be a price due for a peaceful life in Kellarin.”