The Queen of Mages (35 page)

The girl returned with a cup of ale. Dardan
helped Amira drink; droplets splashed onto her borrowed dress, but
he cared nothing for that now. She pushed the cup away and put her
head down on her arms, sobbing quietly.

Dardan sat by her side. They couldn’t just
flee the town; that would raise too many questions. He wanted to
shout at Amira, to demand to know what was the matter with her—how
could she just kill a man like that?

The door banged open all of a sudden and
Magistrate Jarvis came in. “Them—make sure they don’t leave!” he
barked at a taller man who wielded a quarterstaff, lurking behind
the magistrate. Jarvis disappeared outside again as Quarterstaff
came in and took up station by the door.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Dardan
demanded, standing up.

“Magistrate said you wait here, so you wait
here. Uh, m’lord,” he added, casting his eyes nervously between
Dardan and Amira.

Dardan glared at the man and sat down again.
Amira’s head had come up at the intrusion. Dardan saw that her
tears had already stopped.

Several minutes passed as the noise outside
died down. There were more shouts, and at least one prolonged
argument, but it no longer sounded like a brawl. Finally,
Magistrate Jarvis came back in, followed by Count Kirth and his
valo
. “Them,” the magistrate said, sounding relieved to have
the count there to handle the nobles.

For all Count Barnard had been amicable
before, now he wore a grim aspect. He stalked over and stopped just
across the table from Dardan and Amira. “Magistrate Jarvis says you
were present at the brawl outside. Is that so?”

Dardan glanced at Amira for a moment. The
panicking girl of minutes before was entirely gone; now her jaw was
set and her eyes gleamed. “Yes,” Dardan said, returning his gaze to
the count. “We were looking for Dexter Carmichael, in fact. Is he
all right?”

“By the Aspect of Wrath, no. He’s dead.”
Count Barnard shook his head briskly, as if to ward something off.
Amira emitted a soft sob. The count’s eyes flickered to her for a
moment, then returned to Dardan. “Tell me what you saw out
there.”

Dardan recounted the argument and how
Charlie Allister had stabbed Dexter in the back. He didn’t want to
lie to Count Barnard, who had been so kind to them, but he was not
about to throw Amira under the cart. He said that he and his wife
fled into the inn as soon as the fighting started.

Count Barnard stared hard at them for a
moment. Then he spoke over his shoulder. “Magistrate, clear this
building. I want no one else in here.”

The magistrate gaped, then clacked his jaw
shut and nodded. “Yes, m’lord.” He gestured at Quarterstaff, and
the two of them disappeared into the other parts of the inn. They
came back shortly herding the cook and a couple of maids, as well
as the handful of guests staying at the inn. All of them gazed
perplexed at the count as they passed, but soon enough everyone was
outside, leaving only Dardan, Amira, Barnard, and his
valo
.

Count Barnard let out a sigh and lowered
himself onto a chair opposite them. “Charlie Allister would hang
for what he did, but he’s dead too. The strange thing is, I’m not
sure how. Everyone else in that fight got cuts or bruises or broken
bones, but Charlie’s body is unmarked.” He stared firmly at Amira
now; she met his gaze, barely blinking. “My lady, why were you
looking for Dexter Carmichael?”

Dardan’s breath caught.
Damn. I shouldn’t
have said that.
He had to be more careful; he could not blindly
trust even those who helped him, not if he wanted to stay alive.
But now Dardan said nothing; this was Amira’s decision.

“He was like me,” she said quietly. She
touched her temple with one pale finger. “The first I’ve come
across, besides Edon.” Dardan saw her shudder, but she did not
break down crying. If anything, she grew more collected by the
moment.

“And so you…” Barnard gritted his teeth.
“No. We will speak no more of this. You must leave, first thing in
the morning.”

“Not today?” Dardan asked, surprised.

“Too suspicious, so soon after those
deaths.” He stood up, and the Tarians followed suit. “I will
provide you with coin and provisions. It is the least I can do for
the son of Count Asmus.”

“What about…” Dardan glanced toward the
door.

“I cannot mourn Charlie Allister. He was
ever a thorn in my side, and I will not lose sleep over a man who
would stab a boy in the back like that.” He faced Amira squarely.
“See that you do not let this get further out of hand, my
lady.”

Dardan had never seen Amira so chagrined
before. She nodded curtly, not meeting the count’s eyes any
longer.

———

Despite the circumstances around their
departure, Count Barnard provided them with a sack of gold and
silver coins, and a pack horse loaded with provisions. They would
not want for food or funds any time soon. As they departed the
manor, Count Barnard had plastered on a smile, and Countess Tria
seemed as joyous as ever, as if the previous day’s deaths had not
happened. Dardan suspected—hoped—that Amira’s involvement would
remain known only to Barnard and his
valo
.

They left Tyndam on the same road they’d
come in. “We’ll go to Seawatch,” Dardan said when the town was at
their backs. “House Eltasi has never gotten along with Relindos.
They may be willing to help us.” Amira nodded, staring ahead, not
seeing. Dardan sidled a little closer. “Are you going to be all
right?”

She whipped her head around, and the sudden
glare on her face was so fierce that Dardan shied back
involuntarily. “All
right?
The second one like me that I
ever met was killed before my eyes, and then I murdered a man in
revenge! How in the name of Despair do you
think
I am?”

Her wrath seemed unwarranted to Dardan. “I
understand it’s frightful, but it would have happened—the first
part, at least—even if you hadn’t been there. You couldn’t have
done anything about the boy.”

“I damn well could have! If you hadn’t kept
me at the table—if we hadn’t had to spend all morning with those
idiots—”

“What was I to do? Throw Count Barnard’s
hospitality in his face? Do you really think you can go around
acting as you will with no consequences? A man died by your hand!
You have to exercise more control over your emotions. Count Barnard
could have had our heads for what happened, or served us up to the
king, power or no.”

She wheeled her horse around to face
him.“You have no idea what it’s like having this… this thing! It
was instinct!”

Dardan halted as well; the pack horse was
tied to his lead and came bumping up behind him. “Your ‘instinct’
is going to get us killed! You have to control it, or what’s the
point?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know what we’re
doing. What’s there in Seawatch? Another noble, ready to turn us
out at the first sign of trouble?” Amira kicked her horse into a
canter before she even finished speaking.

Dardan swallowed his reply and followed her.
What was
wrong
with her? Yes, the whole episode had been
distressing, but there was no reason to dwell on it so. And they’d
surely find others like her, if that’s what she was worried
about.

He wanted to make her understand. But she
kept ahead of him, and unless he galloped after her and shouted in
the wind, she wouldn’t even hear him. With the pack horse on his
lead, he’d never catch up.

When they stopped to camp for the evening,
well off the road, he tried to talk to her. As soon as he said that
others like her had to exist, so there was no reason to be upset,
she glared at him and stalked away through the trees. He ended up
falling asleep by himself, grumbling.

In the morning he woke to find Amira lying
beside him. She said nothing about the night before as they ate
breakfast and readied the horses for travel, but her eyes were
heavy.

Dardan soon learned that there was no point
in mentioning what had happened in Tyndam Town. No matter how he
tried to make her understand, she would not speak of it. So they
would head on toward Seawatch. Even if Duke Eltasi couldn’t help
them, at least it would put more distance between them and
Edon.

———

In a few days they left Tyndam County behind
and crossed into Vannar County in the Dukedom of Seawatch. The
wooded hills of eastern Tyndam gave way to a long, sloping plain
that descended toward the sea. Jagged crags of pale, lichen-covered
rock dotted the landscape, as if giants below had thrust their
spears up through the ground. Villages were fewer but larger here,
with plenty of open space to sprawl into. Afternoon rainstorms
filled the little streams that criss-crossed the plain. It became a
thrice-daily occurrence that they had to ford some rivulet that
barely reached the horses’ ankles.

When they came to the first large market
town, Amira told Dardan that she wanted to linger for a day or so
and look for others like her—“mages,” she called herself and those
like her.

Dardan objected, saying that they should
make all haste for Seawatch. Amira replied evenly that he was
welcome to go on to Seawatch if he chose, but she would tarry here.
Dardan ground his teeth, but stayed. He spent most of a day
watching the road, hoping not to sight a purple and blue
pennant.

They spent similar days in other towns along
the road, inching toward the coast. Amira had exchanged her
dresses—gifts from Countess Tria—for the wool and leather she’d
worn after Foxhill Keep. When Dardan suggested she was more
fetching in women’s garb, she gave him a look that made him
instantly regret it.

At night, Amira made love rarely and
reluctantly. Her moon blood came and went by the time they reached
Elsingham County, and Dardan sent a silent prayer of thanks to the
Aspect of Ardor that she had not gotten pregnant. Bringing a child
into all this would be madness.

While Amira watched for fellow mages, Dardan
gossiped with other travellers. He always asked about Hedenham,
casually mentioning that he had family out that way. One night, a
drunken wool merchant told him that the ruler of Hedenham had been
killed.
Maybe it’s only a rumor, or maybe he’s thinking of Duke
Loram,
Dardan prayed, but he did not hold out hope.

When he told Amira this, she gasped and
embraced him. Dardan was surprised and gladdened, but he also felt
dishonest, since he had no idea if the merchant’s words had been
true. It seemed to mend some of the rift that had grown between
them, though Dardan did not understand why. He still wished Amira
would look forward instead of back.

One morning as the road brought them past a
copse of willows, he saw what looked like a city shimmering on the
horizon. It was Seawatch atop its high bluff, protected from pirate
raids as well as from easy approach by land. Anyone attacking it
would have a tiring uphill climb.

Cold winds off the sea soon began to slither
between his clothes, and forbidding thunderheads rose up above the
city. Just ahead of them on the road, Dardan saw an open wagon turn
off to the south. In that direction he could see stony ridges
marching off into the distance toward a solitary, pale mountain.
“Ho there,” he called after the wagon as they reached the turning.
“What lies this way?”

The merchant twisted around to look at him.
“Village, hour or so south. Closer shelter than the city.” He
gestured up at the approaching storm. “Don’t wanna get caught out
in the open.” There did not appear to be anything resembling cover
on the rocky plain that rose up toward Seawatch. Amira agreed with
Dardan that they should find shelter, so they turned off the main
road and ambled alongside the wagon for a ways, Amira chatting
amiably with the driver while Dardan engrossed himself in the
scenery.

The road undulated up and down between the
stony ridges, until they saw a village ahead, hard against the
mountain’s foot. When rain began to fall, they thanked the wagoner
for his advice and rode on ahead.

The village’s inn loomed out of the mist as
the rain grew into a torrent. The Giant’s Foot, the inn named
itself, the sign depicting a man dozing against the side of a foot
as large as he was. The innkeeper was friendly enough, a rangy old
goat whose eyes never left Amira. She pretended to ignore him.
Dardan was too cold and wet to risk saying anything; he didn’t want
to offend the man and get turned out into the storm. “Welcome to
Stony Vale,” the innkeep said, smiling at Amira’s chest.

They ate in the common room, fish stew and
oily mushroom salad, and hard brown bread with butter, though here
the bread was salted and the butter was not. Dardan was glad when
they reached their room. He flopped down onto the bed and listened
to the wind clacking a shutter somewhere outside.

Amira was undressing but suddenly stopped,
staring at the wall. “Light. Silver light. I see it!”

Dardan sat up. “Where?”

Amira pointed, down and through the wall.
“It’s gone. But it was there, I swear it. It looked… small, far
away.” She started to pull her vest back on, but Dardan sat up and
took her arm.

“No. Wait until the storm has passed.”

“After Tyndam, I cannot wait again!”

“If you go out in the middle of a storm at
the crack of night, every person in this village will think you’re
mad. If there is another mage out there, well, you said he looks
far away, so he’s not in the inn, agreed? Which means he probably
lives here. He’s not going anywhere. The storm will blow itself out
by morning and we can find him then.”

Amira’s jaw set mulishly. “You don’t know
what it’s like.”

“I’m sure I don’t. But going out there now
is madness.” He didn’t want to have to argue with her further, and
he was relieved when her shoulders slumped. She sat on the bed next
to him and rested her head on his shoulder.