Path of Fate (41 page)

~
How are you doing that? No, never mind. Tell me later.

No longer blind, Saljane relaxed her grip.

The cacophony was growing louder and more discordant as men shouted, crying out to one another, seeking friends and enemies alike in the darkness. More than one shot off random arrows into the melee, or struck blindly with pikes, thinking the camp under attack. Their shocked targets screamed throat-tattering screams. She heard many others cursing the Guild with a ferocity that made her bones shake.

To a man, all of Edelsat’s soldiers now held torches. Each sat tensely aboard his horse, faces drawn, waiting for orders. Their discipline astounded Reisil. Though the wizard night had been described to them, none could have imagined such complete, smothering darkness and helplessness. Still they did not break ranks or bumble about foolishly. It was no wonder Mekelsek had managed to carve out a title and holdings for himself, commanding such soldiers.

She made her way to where Kebonsat and Edelsat stood facing off in different directions some twenty feet apart, both pale and quivering on a knife edge, waiting for Reisil. As she approached, Edelsat called for his men to sound off.

“I’m here,” Reisil announced, coming to stand between them as the last of Edelsat’s men shouted out his name. The two men started at the sound of her voice, peering futilely into the darkness in search of her.

“You can see,” Kebonsat affirmed, his mouth pulled into a grimace.

“Yes. But they mean to stall us, perhaps provoke fighting between the two armies,” said Edelsat. “If they can get the war started again, we don’t matter.”

“It’s a good tactic. But we’re going to do better,” Kebonsat pronounced, then swung down off his horse, followed by Edelsat, who looked suddenly unsure.

They reached out their hands and Reisil clasped them. “Let’s group up. Reisil, you lead. The rest of us will cluster around the wagon—see if we can put together sufficient torches to light a path for the wagon team,” Kebonsat said.

Reisil held each man’s strong, callused fingers laced between her own, calling out warning of obstacles. She gathered each of Edelsat’s men in turn and soon she had a wake of men and horses trailing behind her in a chain of hands and torches. They gathered at the wagon, deciding quickly to release the riding horses.

“They’ll only get in the way. If this cursed night raises, we’ll find more,” Kebonsat said. “Throw the packs in the wagon. Stretch a couple of ropes out front. Reisil will use them to guide us.”

She took point, feeling like the lead goose in a flock flying south for winter. Behind her on either side came Edelsat and Kebonsat, followed by Edelsat’s men like beads on a string, each carrying torches low enough to see the ground, if only just a step or two before them.

They pressed forward through the riotous insanity of the encampment. Several times they were forced to stop abruptly to avoid crazed horses and madmen waving swords in blind, berserk fury. Other times they were forced to beat back attacks by terrified soldiers believing the enemy had come among them.

Edelsat’s men responded bravely, but their pace was excruciatingly slow, and several men were wounded. One man had to be lifted into the wagon. Reisil dared not stop to heal him, fearing the passing of time, fearing what might be happening at the Enclave. Worse, she didn’t know if she were taking them in the right direction.

Edelsat encouraged her, his voice tight, halfstrangled in his throat. Kebonsat remained silent and she could feel his stillness like the heart of a tornado. He strained himself at the darkness, seeking any hint of attack, his body taut. Reisil realized that while she might doubt herself and her sense of direction, Kebonsat did not. He trusted her so absolutely that he had turned his attention to watching, obeying her commands with blind obedience.

The cacophony stopped.

All around her, Reisil could see the mad dashing of people, the barking, howling dogs, the squealing horses, burning fires, screaming camp followers, shouting men, men whimpering and cringing on the ground—but she could hear none of it.

A glance over her shoulder at her bewildered companions and her stomach began to curl in dread.

“What’s happened?” Kebonsat asked in an undertone.

“Trouble.”

All around them space began to grow as if an invisible force pushed outward, thrusting away interlopers, and creating an island dome of black silence.

“I think we’ve got company,” Reisil whispered.

Then instinct grabbed her and she dropped the rope and ducked behind Edelsat, shifting Saljane to her fist. Wizards were coming and she didn’t want them to see her. Maybe if they didn’t know she was there, didn’t know she could see them, she might have an edge. She whispered as much to Edelsat, who nodded, his face bleak as he waited with the patience of helplessness.

“Young Kebonsat. You have returned, and nearly in time. But where, might I ask, is your precious sister? And what have you in that wagon?”

Reisil recognized the smooth contralto voice, rich and cloying as butter sauce. She shivered. Kvepi Buris.

He had stepped out of the melee and into the bubble of black silence followed by another man in a coweled robe of flowing saffron. He was staring at something cupped in his hands, his lips moving in a mumbled chant.

Kvepi Buris looked as Reisil remembered—fragile, with stooped shoulders and long, limp fingers. His long black beard and hair hid much of his face, emphasizing his pale skin and yellow jasper eyes, his large black pupils like infinite wells of malignancy. He smiled scarlet lips, showing teeth that were gray and shiny like poisoned pearls. He wore the long crimson robes she remembered from Kallas.

“Well, young Kebonsat? You have gained new companions, I see. But where are all those delightful
ahaladkaaslane
who accompanied you on your search?”

Kebonsat ignored the question, facing blindly the place where the wizard’s voice came from.

“So it’s you, is it, Buris? I thought as much. It’s just like you to take the cowardly path, letting others do your dirty work. You pretend loyalty while you stab my father in the back—even now you cannot look me in the face.”

“On the contrary. I can. It is
you
who cannot look
me
in the face.” The wizard laughed, a sound of genuine humor. Reisil’s stomach crawled and she swallowed hard to keep from throwing up. This man was smug with the certainty of his victory.

“But you haven’t answered my questions.” Kvepi Buris’s voice turned stern. “Where is your sister? Where are your companions? What, pray tell, is in the wagon?”

He paced toward the wagon as Kebonsat prevaricated.

Reisil tensed, waiting until the wizard was beyond the wagon box. Then she crabcrawled to the edge of the dome barrier and flung herself through, rolling between two tents. She spun about and crouched down, watching Kvepi Buris uncover the prisoners in the back. She couldn’t hear him speak, but he would know their sleep wasn’t natural.

He marched up the line of men, peering intently at each of the soldiers. Some struck out at him, but he dropped the offenders to the ground with a word and wave of his hand. Reisil recoiled. That they were dead, she had no doubt.

Now he came back around to Kebonsat and used a spell to draw him forward. Kebonsat resisted it with every fiber of himself, but he dropped his torch, taking wooden steps toward Kvepi Buris. The wizard laughed, delighting in the other man’s helplessness.

Kvepi Buris touched a finger to his victim’s cheek, his eye, his arm, stomach, leg and groin. Kebonsat withered with pain. The wizard was clearly in a hurry to get answers, and did not pause to enjoy his victim’s agony, merely inflicted it with swift and brutal force.

Bile washing her tongue, Reisil saw the skin on Kebonsat’s face bubble and turn green and black, then, to her horror, bits of flesh dropped to the ground in greasy clots. He opened his mouth and Reisil knew he screamed. The wizard would kill Kebonsat if she did not act. She thought rapidly.

~
Saljane. I have an idea. It will be very dangerous.

She communicated what she wanted to her
ahaladkaaslane
.

~
I will do it.

~
You will only be able to see through my eyes, and I dare not move too close or Kvepi Buris will suspect,
Reisil cautioned. ~
The other wizard is a better target, but I cannot be sure he’s making the darkness. He might just be creating the dome barrier. Even though interrupting his spell would likely kill him—if what Sodur told me is true—it wouldn’t be nearly enough to stop Kvepi Buris. It would only warn him, and he must not have time to protect himself. You need to fly high and strike Kvepi Buris a heavy blow. Enough to incapacitate him. I’ll deal with the other one. He’s so engrossed in his magic, he won’t know what’s happening.

Reisil stroked a shaking hand over Saljane’s back, sending a prayer to the Blessed Lady. Then she tossed the bird up into the unnatural night, staring upward as she did. Saljane winged swiftly upward, blind except for what she could see of herself through her
ahaladkaaslane
’s eyes. Reisil waited until the bird had leveled out, circling slowly in a lopsided, unsteady orbit.

Could Saljane really do this? They had no other options. As she watched, Kebonsat doubled over and dropped to his knees. Kvepi Buris knotted long fingers in his black hair and tugged. The hair came away, attached to clots of bloody, gray skin.

Reisil welcomed the fury that spun through her, driving out the paralyzing repulsion and fear for Kebonsat.

~
Hold on, Saljane. I have to get in place.

She worked her way around to a place near where Kvepi Buris’s saffron-garbed companion stood chanting into his hands at the edge of the dome barrier. The going was slow as she sidestepped brawling soldiers, yapping dogs, plunging horses and all manner of packs, wagons, troughs, buckets, tents, fires, bags of grain, piles of manure and several sprawled bodies.

All the while she kept glancing upward to help keep Saljane centered overhead. She wished she could warn Edelsat of her plan. Kvepi Buris, arrogant of his powers, had not disarmed any of his captives. If Saljane struck the wizard just a glancing blow, Reisil hoped the others would take advantage, though, she pointed out to herself, even if she could warn them, it would be impossible for them to locate the wizard in the darkness.

Reisil kicked something and looked down. A soldier had been trampled and dragged by his terrified horse. He’d lost his helm and a hoof had caved in his skull. She hesitated a moment, then knelt beside him and heaved him over, taking his sword.

“I promise, I don’t make a habit of robbing the dead. But I have need and you don’t,” she said quietly, and then continued on, hefting the unfamiliar weapon in her hand. She was no swordsman, but it would make a good club.

She crouched down behind a barrel, wrinkling her nose as she realized that someone had been using it as a receptacle for midden buckets. She swallowed, breathing through her mouth, barely keeping herself from retching at the stench. Ten feet away with his back to her was the chanting wizard, and beyond him another fifteen paces was Kvepi Buris and Kebonsat.

Her mouth opened on a wordless cry. Areas of blackened, putrefying bone showed through widening patches of gray and green putrescence as his more of Kebonsat’s flesh rotted and fell away. She didn’t even recognize him. How could he still live? Her fingers convulsed around the hilt of the stolen sword.

~
Are you ready, Saljane? We have no more time.

For a moment there was no answer.

~
Now. Show me the wizard.

Reisil turned her burning gaze on Kvepi Buris and held her breath.

Saljane stooped, dropping like a stone.

Not on target.

The bird was off by several feet. Reisil gasped and Saljane flung her wings wide to halt her fall. With a harsh cry, she flew at the startled Kvepi Buris and raked his face with her talons. Kebonsat slumped to the ground.

Reisil leaped forward, clutching the sword in two hands above her head. She pushed through the circle, though something pushed back at her. Not strong enough. The spell was meant to discourage, but it wasn’t a wall. She clubbed the saffron wizard’s coweled head.

Once. Twice.

He made a sound like a baby moaning, then crumpled. A black crystal wrapped in red and silver thread rolled from his outstretched palm. Reisil brought the sword down on it and it shattered. Brilliant light flared and she stumbled back, catching herself with one hand on the ground.

The wizard night vanished, and in its place twilight began to fall.

Reisil blinked, spots of white dancing across her vision. Through them she saw Edelsat kneeling beside Kebonsat, a hand over his mouth as he gagged. Kvepi Buris stood surrounded by Edelsat’s men. One eye was gone and with it his nose. Blood ribboned down his neck and bubbled where his nose had been. He shrieked, lifting his hands to touch his ruined flesh.

Edelsat’s men struggled to finish him, chopping at him with swords that bounced off thin air.

The wizard ignored them, staring at the blood washing his hands. At last he raised his eyes, snarling at Reisil, his teeth and lips smeared crimson.

“This isn’t over,” he raged, his voice high and pained.

“You will pay dearly. When the sun goes down, the treaty will be finished and you will have lost. You—Mekelsek—your mother’s dead these past four days. And the disease is chewing up your sisters, your father and brother,” he sneered at Edelsat. “By the time you get home, even you won’t recognize them, any more than that pompous puppy on the ground there. But you will get to enjoy the pleasure of watching them die. I’ll make sure of that.

“And you . . .” He pointed at Reisil as Saljane landed on her upraised fist. “I’ll have your poultry for breakfast, and when I’m done with you, you’ll beg to die—but you’ll live. Years and years. And every single moment of it, you will know this pain. I swear this on my master’s soul.”