Chaosmage (2 page)

Jannek was starting to turn around when Zannah stabbed him through the neck. No more words. No more lies. No more promises of freedom and something better. They'd heard it all before.

Jannek's blood splashed over his sister's face and her cry became one of anguish. In his last few seconds he stared at his sister, trying to depart a final message. Finally he slumped forward off Zannah's sword and fell into Liselle's lap. She hugged the corpse of her brother and began to sob.

The wall was clear. They were safe for now and none of the Forsaken had escaped to carry someone away. Working methodically Zannah tipped the bodies over the wall, throwing stray limbs as well, although she was less worried about those. The other defenders withdrew to the courtyard. They didn't want to see what happened next and liked to pretend it didn't happen.

“Bring the rope,” said Zannah, and Alyssa nodded. She went down into the courtyard and came back with a long knotted rope that was attached to the laden cart. Alyssa threw it over the wall then returned to keep watch as Zannah approached Liselle.

“Stay away from him,” screamed Liselle, pulling the bloody corpse to her chest. “Haven't you done enough? Haven't you killed enough of my people?”

Zannah said nothing. There was nothing she could say. Jannek was already dead and had been for some time, long before she'd stabbed him in the neck. Whenever someone was taken by the Forsaken they always came back different. They walked and talked the same. They had the same face and voice, but they were changed. Something had been cut away, or scooped out.

Monella, a stout woman with one rheumy eye, came up the stairs. She pointedly didn't look at Zannah and went straight to Liselle, who fell into her arms. After a few minutes Monella was able to pull the younger woman to her feet and guide her away down the stairs. Zannah waited until they were out of sight before throwing Jannek's body over the wall.

Working hand over hand on the rope, she went down into the street. The long shadows hid from view most of what she was doing, but not the sounds. The others pretended not to hear those too.

Zannah beheaded every corpse, including Jannek's, before making sure the bodies rested a good distance away from the heads. It was the only way to make sure they didn't come back, again and again.

Next was actually the most difficult part of the evening. Zannah grabbed the rope and started the slow climb back to the top of the wall. One night she would be climbing up and the rope would snap. Someone inside would have disarmed or distracted Alyssa and cut the rope.

A fall from the top wouldn't kill her, but it might break an arm or leg. Then she'd be trapped on the street for the rest of the night with the Forsaken. The others desperately wanted to see her torn apart and butchered. Maybe some wanted to see her carried away only to return the following night. Some nights Zannah wanted it too. Not because she believed she'd earned anything beyond her current situation. She just wanted to know where people were taken and how they were being changed.

Zannah reached the top of the wall and heaved herself over, landing amid the blood. She sat for a minute, catching her breath, staring at the endless dark above.

“You should have more faith,” said Alyssa, offering a hand and pulling Zannah to her feet. She chose not to comment, not wanting to cause offence.

They stood in silence for a time, watching the street.

“Do you think they'll come again tonight?”

“At least one more time.”

“How long do you think we can keep doing this?” asked Alyssa.

It was a question Zannah had asked herself many times. Any defence in the city was gradually being eroded and the Forsaken were growing in number. Once, dozens of torches had burned in the night, driving back the darkness. Now there were maybe six shelters left.

Zannah didn't answer Alyssa as they both knew the truth. They were running out of time.

O
vernight a thin layer of snow had dusted the streets of Charas like a fine layer of sugar. Talandra and the rest of Seveldrom were used to harsh winters, but so far the weather had been unseasonably mild.

Staring down at the streets of the capital city from the palace, the Queen noted a few changes. Even from this height she could see all of the shops had left the awnings tied up and there were no seats outside for eating or drinking. It was a new trend from the west that had steadily crept in over the last four years which she had encouraged.

The streets looked a little bare without the tables and brightly coloured canopies, but no one was fooled by the mild reprieve. They all knew the snow would come soon enough, thick and heavy, and no one wanted an awning full of snow falling on their customers.

Trade continued to flourish between Seveldrom and the west, and she was doing all that she could to keep goods flowing both ways. Valuable information came in through the city gates with every wagon train, and fresh orders went out the next day for the return trip. Her spy network in the west was much larger than before the war. The more she knew the easier it would be to defuse situations before they could escalate.

Talandra closed the window, shutting out the chill and moved back to her desk. The sea of papers scattered across it never seemed to dwindle. There was always a host of fresh reports, official requests and invitations. It was rare that she received any papers that weren't a demand on her time. The days and weeks were being gobbled up and the years seemed to be growing shorter. Talandra knew the truth of it. She was forever busy and the list of responsibilities that came with the throne had not decreased. She also had difficulty delegating. The excuse about not being able to find good people wasn't fooling those closest to her, but it was so hard to let go.

As ever when she thought about time, Talandra's mind turned to the future. She ran a hand across her swelling stomach and although she didn't mind, as long as the child was healthy, she hoped for a girl this time. His tiny lordship was currently being entertained elsewhere, giving her a few hours of peace to get some work done. But so far all she'd achieved this morning was staring out the window and thinking about the future.

A frantic knocking disturbed her thoughts. Before Talandra had a chance to respond Alexis threw open the door to admit a
flustered
-
looking
Shani. Her head of intelligence looked scared, which terrified Talandra. Shani was always in control of her emotions.

“By the Maker, what's happened?” asked Talandra, guiding Shani to a chair. In the corridor outside she heard the rattle of many feet. “What's going on out there?”

“We're tripling the guard,” said Alexis. “No one will get anywhere near you. We're sending more to protect the Prince.” With that she pulled the doors shut. There hadn't been an assassination attempt in nearly three years, not since Shani had taken matters into her own hands.

“It's not assassins,” said Shani in a raspy voice. Despite being well before midday, Talandra poured a generous splash of whisky into a glass. She pressed it into Shani's trembling hands and helped her take a sip. After the third gulp her shaking faded and she pushed the glass away.

Talandra pulled up a chair beside Shani, doing her best to quell the flutter of fear in her stomach that threatened to blossom into something else.

“From the beginning. Tell me what's happened,” she said gently, holding one of Shani's hands in both of hers.

“I was in the Black Library. I was filing some new information,” said Shani, shaking her head to dismiss the question before it was asked. The specifics would have to wait and clearly weren't relevant. Talandra bit her lip and gestured for Shani to continue. “I was just about to leave when I noticed it was missing.”

A cold prickle ran down Talandra's spine. “What? What was missing?”

Shani stared into the distance. “I see it all the time. It's become just another relic from the past. I'd forgotten what it really was.”

Talandra's mind went through all the possibilities that would rattle Shani so thoroughly. The Black Library was mostly full of notebooks, floor to ceiling, but there were also a few other objects. Items that she didn't want stored in the royal vault. Items that shouldn't exist. Items that no one knew about, except for a handful of people. All of the objects were dangerous in their own way, but as she ran through the list in her mind there was only one that made her heart skip a beat. Talandra stared at Shani, a question on her lips, and the Morrin just nodded.

Alexis came back into the room, clanking in her armour, Hyram a step behind. Although neither of her bodyguards had drawn their swords, both had a hand resting on their weapon. They were still alert but some of the tension had eased from their shoulders.

“Tell everyone to stand down,” said Talandra. “We're not in any immediate danger.” Whether they heard the tremble in her voice, or perhaps it was just her expression, neither of her bodyguards looked convinced. Talandra wasn't sure she really believed it either, but there was nothing anyone could do.

“What's going on?” asked Hyram. “What aren't you telling us?”

“Alexis, please tell the others to stand down. Then come in and close the door.”

The big blonde did as she was asked, but there was a sour twist to her mouth. Spending so much time together every day for years meant there were few secrets between them. There were aspects of her position that Talandra didn't share with Alexis or even her brother, Hyram. The full extent of the work carried out by her spy network at home and abroad wasn't something they needed to know. They may not have liked it but they accepted it.

“There's a secret vault in the palace, we call it the Black Library,” said Talandra. From the furrows between her eyebrows Alexis thought the Black Library was something Talandra should have told her about. She ignored her bodyguard for now and turned towards Hyram. “Father showed me where it was hidden when I turned thirteen.”

Hyram's eyes became distant. “One summer you became very withdrawn and quiet.”

“Yes, it was that year.”

“Me and Thias thought you were starting your cycle,” said Hyram with a grin, but Alexis's grim expression didn't change. Despite their apparent differences they normally shared a coarse sense of humour. It seemed as if today all humour had been drained from her body.

“What's in the vault?” asked Alexis.

“Secrets,” said Talandra, staring at her bodyguard. “A vault of secrets. Enough to change the world, or destroy it, in the hands of the wrong people. By the time Father showed me the room I already knew about his spy network. That day he told me the rest and it was a heavy burden to carry for a child.”

“What else was in the vault?” asked Alexis.

“This isn't about you,” said Talandra, hearing the accusation in her tone.

“It seems to me, your Majesty, that it's about trust,” said Alexis. The only time she used Talandra's title in private was when she was annoyed.

Talandra ignored the jibe, focusing her attention on Hyram again. “As well as secrets, I also stored a few sensitive items in there.”

“I thought that's what the royal vault was for,” said Hyram.

“These items don't exist,” said Shani, finding her voice again. Some of the colour had returned to her face but she was still visibly rattled. “There's no written record of them anywhere. Only a handful of people know about them, and only three have access to the Black Library.”

“Someone stole something from the vault,” surmised Alexis.

“We are two of the keyholders,” said Talandra, gesturing at herself and Shani.

“Then it was the other keyholder,” said Alexis.

“No, he's not in the country,” said Talandra, thinking of her husband.

“What was stolen?” asked Hyram.

“A sword called
Maligne
. It's the only one of its kind, crafted from star metal.”

Talandra watched as realisation dawned on her brother's face. Hyram swore and started to pace around the room, trying to work off some of the adrenaline that had built up.

“I don't understand,” said Alexis.

Talandra spoke carefully, choosing her words precisely. “It was forged by one of the Battlemages during the war. Finn Smith.”

“I thought he died,” said Alexis.

“He did.”

“Then if it wasn't one of your people, who does that leave? Who else knew about the sword?”

“Only one person who's still alive,” said Talandra, sharing a look with Shani. “And no one has seen him for years. Most people won't even say his name out loud. He changed the course of the war, he killed the Warlock and we rewarded him with exile.”

“It can't be,” whispered Alexis, a hint of fear creeping into her voice. “I thought he was dead.”

Talandra shook her head. Suddenly she wanted a drink of whisky as well, maybe a whole bottle, but she couldn't touch a drop.

Somehow he'd found out that she still had the sword. Then he'd walked into the palace, completely unnoticed by any guard or servant, found his way into the most secret vault and walked out again with a sword. And not once had he used a key, broken a lock or been seen by anyone. The only reason they knew he'd even been there was the sword's absence.

Talandra knew he'd been a powerful magic user during the war, but where had he been and what had he become in the interim? She also wondered why someone like him would need a sword, and who it would be turned against.

Instinctively she wrapped her arms around her stomach, a thin shield against all of the terrors in the world, but it was all she could offer her unborn child. Talandra had to say his name aloud, if only to become used to hearing it again without it being used to scare people.

“Balfruss has returned.”