The Spook 9 - Slither's tale (19 page)

I HAD BEEN
doing my best to console Susan and Bryony, but they were scared and tearful. As a result it was a long time before I could bring myself to tell them something of what they faced in the arena. I felt like crying too, but what good would that do? So I bit my bottom lip hard to stop it from trembling and said what had to be said.

‘Once there, we are to be bound to stakes,’ I began. It was better to forewarn them, so that they could prepare themselves.

‘What did you say? We are going to be tied to stakes?’ Susan said, her pretty face twisting in alarm. ‘And watched by an audience of those beasts?’

I nodded. ‘It is the way things are done here. It would be a good idea to keep your eyes tight closed so you don’t have to see what happens. But it won’t be for long – Slither will slay his enemies quickly. You’ve seen how he fights. Then it will be over and you’ll be cut free. Soon we’ll be on our way to our aunt and uncle’s and all will be well. This will just seem like a very bad dream.’

‘All won’t be well if you can’t stay with us, Nessa,’ Bryony said, her voice wobbly with emotion.

‘We can only hope that one day I’ll be free and able to return to you,’ I told them, doing my best to sound confident. ‘Somehow I’ll find a way to escape so that we can be together again, don’t you fear.’

For all my brave words, it seemed likely that we’d all be dead very soon. Even if by some miracle we survived the arena, there would be no safe haven in our aunt and uncle’s house for me. The beast would sell me in the slave market. That’s if he didn’t kill me himself first. I’d seen the way he looked at all three of us. He was finding it increasingly difficult not to sink his teeth into our throats.

I heard footsteps and we all turned towards the door. In walked Slither, but he was not alone. To my astonishment he was accompanied by a human; a tall, fierce woman was by his side. Her body was crisscrossed with leather straps holding sheathed blades, and her skirt was divided and strapped to her thighs. Was this another of the fierce slaves that we’d encountered in the tower? What was she doing here? Why had Slither allowed her to enter his quarters? I wondered.

That was bad enough. Then she smiled and I saw that her cruel mouth was filled with sharp pointed teeth. I took a step backwards, startled and afraid. Both Susan and Bryony ran behind me.

‘This is Grimalkin and she is here to help us,’ Slither said. ‘She is a witch, and one of your people.’

He left us without saying anything more. We were alone with the woman, and for a moment or two she simply stared into my eyes. Was the beast telling the truth? Was this strange woman really here to help us? And if so, how?

She pointed to the floor. ‘Let us sit and talk,’ she said. ‘We have much to discuss.’

Why was she here? What could there be to talk about with this fearsome stranger?

There were five chairs in the room but she sat down cross-legged on the floor, then looked up at us and beckoned. ‘We have little time. Sit now!’

There was command in her voice – she seemed like someone who was used to getting her own way, so we sat down on the floor facing her. Susan began to cry softly but the woman ignored her.

‘Tell me what happened and how you came to be in the possession of Slither,’ she demanded, staring hard at me. ‘Tell me also what you hope for in the future.’

I did as she asked, beginning with my father’s death and the trade that he had made with Slither.

‘So you are to be sold in the slave market but your
two
sisters are to go free? How do you feel about that?’

‘Better that than all three of us dying,’ I replied. ‘But I would also like to join my sisters at my aunt and uncle’s house. The life of a slave is brutal. I have seen the cuts the beasts inflict upon them.’

‘Now tell me about your journey here.’

While my sisters looked on in silence, I gave a full account of our visit to the tower and how we had escaped. After a brief description of Slither’s fight with the horse creature, I told her of our terror on arriving at Valkarky.

‘Without doubt this Kobalos called Slither is a formidable warrior,’ the witch said. ‘I will fight alongside him in the arena and then you will be free to leave this city.’

‘Will that be allowed?’ I asked.

‘What they don’t know
will
hurt them,’ she said with a grim smile. ‘Nessa, I will take your place in the arena.’

I opened my mouth, but before I could get the words out there was a shimmer in the air, and the body and face of the witch became strangely blurred. Then, to my utter astonishment, I was staring at myself. It was as though I were looking into a mirror. Bryony and Susan both gasped and their eyes flicked back and forth between me and the transformed Grimalkin.

Seconds later, there was another shimmer and the witch was there again, glaring back at us. ‘Now do you see how it may be accomplished?’

All three of us nodded. I was too stunned to speak.

‘She became just like you, Nessa!’ Bryony suddenly
exclaimed
, finding her tongue. ‘She could have been your identical twin.’

‘But it’s magic!’ Susan protested. ‘It’s wrong to do such things. No good can come of it.’

‘No?’ asked the witch. ‘Would you rather die in the arena, then?’

Susan didn’t answer. She looked down at the floor and started weeping again.

‘I will do my best to slay the Haggenbrood and to protect your two sisters,’ the witch continued, staring straight into my eyes. ‘I’ll also do my best to ensure that all three of you stay together and are taken to live with your relatives. I do not promise that it will happen. But I will try.’

‘Thank you,’ I said, forcing a smile onto my face. For the first time in days I felt a glimmer of hope. For some reason, fearsome as she was, I trusted this witch. ‘Will I stay here while you take my place?’

‘Yes,’ Grimalkin answered. ‘As I understand it, these are private quarters and no one would think to enter without permission from a haizda mage. And why should they suspect anything, anyway? You will be safe here. And now,’ she continued, ‘I would like to ask you a question. They enslave human females whom they call purrai. Most are the daughters of slaves who are born here in captivity. Others, very much the minority, are captured and enslaved. But I have seen no sign at all of their own females. Why are they hidden away?’

‘We haven’t seen their women, either,’ I admitted. ‘On their city thoroughfares there are only male Kobalos and the
occasional
purra being dragged about like an animal on a leash. I am sorry but I am unable to answer your question.’

The witch nodded. ‘But it is a very interesting question nonetheless,’ she mused. ‘I suspect that when we learn the answer, we will understand these creatures far better.’

ON FIRST GLIMPSING
the witch, the three sisters were terrified and shrank away as if she were some kind of fearsome monster. I found it difficult to understand. The four of them were human, after all. But when I returned half an hour later, they had calmed down somewhat and the four were engaged in conversation.

Nessa in particular seemed much happier, and I wondered if they had been plotting together. Perhaps the witch did not respect a trade in the same way that I did? It made little difference. The priority now was to survive our encounter with the Haggenbrood. I would deal with any other difficulties later.

Grimalkin had explained to them what needed to be done, and Nessa seemed calm and agreeable to being replaced in the arena. It appeared that she had entrusted the safety of her two sisters to the assassin. I wondered what the witch had said to win them over so completely.

The three sisters hugged each other as we left for the arena. All three were crying as Grimalkin used her magic to mask herself as Nessa.

As they pulled apart, I was surprised to see that Susan was the calmest and least affected of them all. She wiped away her tears, straightened her back and forced a smile onto her face as she looked directly at Nessa. ‘I’m sorry for being such a burden and for always complaining,’ she told her. ‘If I live through this I’ll try to be a better sister in future.’

‘You’ll be back soon,’ Nessa promised. ‘You’ll both live, I promise you, and we’ll all be safe again.’

I wondered if the girl was right. But I could not dwell on the question for long: it was time to face the Haggenbrood.

The arena was already full of excited spectators who began calling out and jeering, baying for our blood the moment we entered. News of my trial had spread throughout Valkarky and, to say the least, the crowd were hostile towards me. Because we are outsiders, and our lives and vocation, gathering power, managing our haizdas and seeking understanding of the universe, are mysterious and unknown to the majority, haizda mages have never been popular in the city. To make matters worse, I had slain a High Mage, one of those who might one
day
have become part of the Triumvirate. Valkarky is very patriarchal; in their minds I had slain one of the city fathers. During the trial, as the hysteria increased, it would become more personal still – as if each spectator believed that I had killed his
own
father.

Of course, many had come simply to view the spectacle and savour the spilling of red blood on the arena floor, as I had done as a youngster. Some were visibly salivating already.

On being led into position, all three girls looked terrified and sobbed hysterically. It was hard to believe that the real Nessa had been left behind in my quarters. It was a testament to the power of the human witch. A haizda mage must gather knowledge wherever he can – from friend and foe alike. Should I survive this encounter, I intended to learn from this witch assassin.

The purrai were tied to the posts by the Kobalos who served the trial judge while I waited patiently close to the pit where the Haggenbrood was confined. I glanced down through the grille. Nothing was moving. The creature was sedated. The moment the grille was removed, the first of three trumpets would sound and the creature would become aware, wishing to know more of the opponent it faced. At the second trumpet it would crawl out of the pit. The blast of the third trumpet would rouse it to extreme fury and blood-lust, and the battle would begin. Such was its conditioning. It was all very predictable – up to that point. But once the battle began, everything was uncertain.

During my earlier preparations in my quarters I had gone into a trance to summon into my mind all previous trials
during
the last fifty years. The Haggenbrood had proved victorious in all three hundred and twelve encounters, never once repeating the same pattern of attack. Most victories had been achieved within less than a minute.

Dressed in his black robes of office, the trial judge entered the arena and held up both hands for silence. He had to wait several minutes before the crowd calmed down sufficiently for the proceedings to begin.

In a loud voice he began to read out the charges:

‘The haizda mage known as Slither is charged with the murder of the High Mage known as Nunc and stealing from him the three purrai that you see before you.’

At this a great roar of anger erupted from the spectators and the judge had to hold up his hand to order silence again.

‘Secondly he is charged with the unlawful slaying of a Shaiksa assassin who attempted to prevent him from leaving with the stolen purrai. Thirdly he is charged with the unlawful slaying of the hyb warrior who was sent to execute him for those crimes.’

The spectators brayed out their anger once more, and the judge was forced to hold up his hand even longer to command order. Only when absolute silence was achieved did he continue.

‘The haizda mage refutes those charges on the grounds that the three purrai were, and still are, his property and that he killed lawfully to protect his rights. In addition, his mind has been probed thoroughly and he is convinced that he is being truthful. He would therefore have been released but for the fact
that
the Shaiksa Brotherhood has objected on the grounds of evidence supplied to them from the dying mind of the assassin slain by this haizda mage.

‘That communication asserts that Lord Nunc had paid Slither for the purrai and they were his lawful property. Lord Nunc is dead and therefore unavailable for questioning. Consequently, as this contradiction is impossible to resolve, we require this trial by combat.’

Then the judge pointed at me.

The auditorium had been absolutely quiet during the final part of the reading of the charge. Now he called out dramatically in a voice filled with authority, loud enough to reach every corner of the arena. ‘Choose!’ he cried.

I was being asked to choose my starting position. This had to be directly in front of one of the three posts. I had, of course, selected it long before entering the arena. I quickly stood before the semblance of Nessa. In my possession I had the sabre, which I now drew, preparing for battle. In addition I now had three blades; the extra one in my pocket was for the witch, even though I knew that behind the facade she projected, she had her own blades too. It was important for the maintenance of the magical illusion that the spectators see me hand her a blade.