The Deathless Ones, page 33
“All three times it was to Syamin,” Amrose said softly. “I heard Myra’s soldiers talk while I was the prisoner of Vasry. Syamin is the one who was going under the name of Lyam.”
Semil said nothing. Of course it was Syamin! The man was born just to thwart him, it appeared.
“I don’t care for Syamin,” Semil muttered. “But I don’t really care for revenge any more either!”
“If that’s how you feel, perhaps we should abandon this plan, and let the prisoners go,” Amrose paused. “Only, if you do that, then truly all the lives that were lost will have been in vain.”
“I wish I knew what to do,” Semil whispered. “I no longer trust myself.”
“Trust me, my Lord,” Amrose said, fervour shining out of his eyes. “This is your destiny! Don’t falter now!”
Semil gave him a wan smile. At least, Amrose was trying. He believed so fervently in everything Semil had taught him, in everything Semil himself had believed once, and Semil wished he could feel the old confidence, the old arrogance, but somehow it was gone, and only the memory of a shameful retreat into the temple of Nadais remained. Had it not been for Marian, he still would have been holed up there, and watched while his men died of starvation. He had only told her to get Aster and the twins, thinking he could bargain for his freedom and for his men’s lives using Aster, but she had exceeded all his expectations.
Yet, nothing meant anything any more.
The Escape
Madh sat up properly once Semil was gone.
“What was that all about?” Aster asked acerbically.
“You were moving your hands,” Madh said. “I had to do something to divert Semil’s attention.”
“So, that’s Semil,” Sadjah said, sitting up as well. “I like Syamin better.”
“That makes two of us,” Aster said, rubbing his wrists. “So, what’s your plan?”
“See if there’s any water here,” Madh said, as he started rummaging among the sacks, and picking up two full skins.
“And?”
“Wet the sacks and throw them on the fires. The horse is still hitched to the wagon. While they’re trying to make sense of what’s happening, I can slip out and drive off the wagon.”
“It’s an insane plan” Aster muttered. “But it just might work. We do have the element of surprise on our side. Both Marian and Semil think we are bound.”
Madh nodded as he shook out the vegetables and spread the sacks on the floor. Sadjah and Aster opened the skins and poured water, making certain to soak the sacks well.
“Here goes,” Madh said as he hefted one of the sacks and jumped out. Sadjah followed him with another sack. Aster watched as they suddenly flung the sacks at the nearby fires causing them to smoke and smoulder before going out. Sadjah had jumped back in and Madh had gone to the front of the wagon by the time the drowsy soldiers realised something was wrong.
The wagon started moving, and the two passengers peered through the flap. It was too dark to know what was happening, but they could hear shouts and an arrow whooshed past the wagon.
“They’re going to come after us!” Aster groaned.
“Probably,” Sadjah said, before moving towards the front of the wagon and using the dagger she had taken from Madh to rip the sheet covering the wagon so she could see Madh.
“Madh!” She shouted. “Aster thinks they’ll come after us!”
“It’ll take them a while,” Madh shouted back. “Hopefully, we’ll be in Lykos by then.”
“I hope you’re not planning to hide in Lykos,” Aster yelled.
“Lykos is part of Ceatin,” Madh yelled back. “Every town in Ceatin has a town guard, even in times of war. Unless Semil and all his men come after us, we could seek the town guard’s help to stop whoever he sends. You can get some weapons, Sadjah, and once beyond Lykos, I can use my magic again!”
“Are you sure it’s the right direction?” Aster asked again. His throat was feeling sore with all the shouting.
“Yes, trust me!” Madh replied, coughing a bit.
They were silent for a while and then Aster could hear it. “Hoof beats,” he said. “Someone’s coming after us and gaining fast.”
“I can’t see who it is,” Sadjah complained.
“It’ll be light soon,” Madh said. “Two moons have set, or have you not noticed?”
“We’re in here and not able to see the sky,” Sadjah said drily. “In case you haven’t noticed.”
Madh laughed, sounding so exultant that Aster rolled his eyes. He kept peering out. The sky was noticeably lighter by the time they reached Lykos.
“I don’t think there’s a town guard here,” Sadjah said, looking around as the wagon slowed.
“It’s Semil, Marian, and Amrose with around ten soldiers, following us,” Amrose said. “What do we do now?”
Madh stopped the wagon in the middle of the road and jumped down. He unhitched the horse and said to Aster. “Take the horse and leave. Go back, and see if you can get to Mirrel without running into the rest of Semil’s men. You know this land better than they or us. We’ll hold off Semil.”
Aster hesitated. Sadjah handed him the dagger she was carrying. “Take it. You may need it. We’ll be fine. We can’t be killed.”
Aster hesitated still, and Madh said impatiently. “Leave! You’ll only be in our way!”
Aster got on the horse and rode off in the opposite direction. He could circle Lykos and cut across a strip of Andhar to reach Dell and from there to Mirrel without running into any of Semil’s men. If he rode hard, he could reach Mirrel by noon, but he wasn’t certain the horse would survive it. He wished he knew what Madh and Sadjah were up to. There was nothing they could do in Lykos.
Madh looked at his sister. “We’re still in Lykos,” he said.
“I know,” Sadjah said. “And I’m unarmed.”
Madh looked at the horses and the riders, “Let’s go.”
They ran into one of the side streets, and Sadjah pointed. “There’s the alchemists’ shop, and next door is the apothecary’s.”
Madh said. “The old guard tower is over there,” he pointed. “That should give you a good vantage point.”
She nodded. “Be careful. I’ll hold them off as long as I can.”
“Just do as we planned.” Madh said. “Don’t try any heroics. I don’t think Semil will be in a mood to be lenient, so don’t get caught.”
She rolled her eyes. “Stop fussing and leave.”
He left. She went inside the apothecary’s shop, finding a fine red powder in one jar. She exited the shop and went into the alchemists’ shop. She had no idea if the thing she sought for was there. It was something her father had taught her while teaching her herblore, Fortunately, it was there, a green liquid in a glass bottle that was warm to the touch.
She went out of the shop and ran to the watch tower, climbing the stairs, careful to hold both bottles in one hand. Some of the stairs had rotted away and climbing wasn’t easy, but she managed it. Once on top, she opened the bottle with the green liquid and then shook in the red powder into it. The bottle immediately grew too hot to hold and the liquid inside began to bubble and froth. She threw the bottle into the town as far away from the tower as she could, covered her nose and mouth with her hands and climbed down. A thick white smoke started billowing up from where the bottle fell and soon, the whole town soon covered in the smoke. She ran out of the town, her eyes stinging and choking on the smoke. She held her breath and ran out of Lykos.
Madh saw the smoke fill the city, and sighed in relief. He was out of the shadow and he could feel the thrum of his magic again.
“Come on Sadjah,” he muttered. “Where are you?”
Soon, he saw her, running out of the town. He ran to intercept her and he caught her by the shoulder, pulling her away from the town and the smoke.
“Let’s hope the wind won’t blow it on to us,” he said. “But we are out of the shadow.”
“All right, what now?” she asked.
“Now we wait,” he said. “Whatever happens, we have to stay here, where my magic can be a protection if your weapons fail.”
“I don’t have any weapons,” she said. “Shouldn’t we be trying to escape? If you have your magic, you can transport us far away, can’t you?”
“And stay in hiding?” Madh asked. “Is that what you want? To leave your life behind and hide?”
She shook her head, looking relieved. “So, we stand and fight.”
Madh nodded, a determined expression on his face.
“Are you decided on this?” Kal asked softly, from behind them.
“We need to do this, Kal,” Madh said.
“It’s not too late,” Kal said. “The smoke will dissipate soon, and Semil has a magician with him too. His warriors are well trained.”
“Kal,” Madh said. “I’m not going to hide any more to help you. This is my choice now. I’m going to put an end to this, one way or other.”
The Rescue
Syamin reined his horse in front of Aster’s mansion. Exhaustion was creeping up on him, but he shook it off as he jumped down. Mylwin didn’t look much better either, but none of them had time to rest. Syamin had already lost Vasry, he wasn’t about to lose Aster as well. It had taken them half the night to round up enough horses for all of them.
They tied up the horses and went inside. Everyone looked tired, but also alert.
“We got enough horses,” Mylwin declared. “Have we come up with a plan?”
“We assume that whatever Semil has in mind, he’ll be wanting to get out of the shadow of Nadais,” Myra said. “Since he isn’t too familiar with the terrain, we’re assuming he’ll be taking the route to Lykos. According to Bydor, if we go by Dell, we can take a shortcut and reach Lykos without running into Semil.”
“Semil already has a head start,” Syamin said. “But he and his soldiers are all tired, so it’s likely that he will stop to rest on the way. If we start now, we might reach Lykos by mid-morning.”
“What if he has taken some other route?” Mylwin asked. “What would we do then?”
“The other route also takes him past Dell,” Aadron said. “We can just stop at the village and make enquiries there.”
“Those teleportation crystals would have come in handy now,” Syamin said lightly.
“Next time, I’ll be sure to have a few in stock,” Radik said drily, though he was smiling.
Syamin smiled back, though he could see the lines of worry on Radik’s face too.
“We’ll start immediately,” he said.
There was a noise from the doorway to the stairs and Layla appeared, supporting Danyal who looked terrible, his face pale and a cloth wound round his head that was stained red. He was conscious, and he pushed himself free of Layla’s supporting arm as he saw them. He was a bit wobbly on his feet, but managed to stay upright without help.
“I’m coming with you,” Danyal said. “Aster’s in trouble and it’s all my fault.”
“Danyal, you’re in no condition to ride all night,” Syamin said. “Don’t blame yourself.”
“I knew her,” Danyal said. “I was guarding Aster’s room, but I didn’t notice her. I recognised her too late!”
“Who?” Aadron asked.
“Marian,” Danyal said. “Aster said... she was the next chosen disciple of Nadais... but she didn’t care! She doesn’t care, and she took Aster. I couldn’t stop her, or raise the alarm when I saw her...”
“If you had tried, you would probably be dead by now,” Myra said gently. “Don’t beat yourself up over this, Danyal. You can’t ride as hard as we need to, and we can’t stop for you.”
“I won’t hold you back,” Danyal pleaded. “I can fight, Lord Syamin! If I don’t stay with you, just ride on without me, but don’t leave me behind!”
“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Layla said. “His wound is shallow, and he’s only tired.”
“Just like the rest of us,” Aadron said. “You can come, Danyal. Just don’t try any heroics. You may know how to fight, but everyone here is more experienced than you.”
Danyal nodded.
“All right,” Syamin said. “Let’s go.” It amused him that everyone was taking charge and ordering him around tonight. In a way, it was a comfort not to have to make any decisions. He had lost too much in this war. Most of his city was in ruins. Semil’s men had flung the fire-maker at Vasry’s men and many buildings had caught fire. He was grateful that the people were at least safe, but when it would be safe for them to return was something he dared not contemplate at the moment.
They rode, Danyal riding by Layla, and Myra by Mylwin. Radik and Pelmeya rode together, their white robes appearing to shine in the night. Aadron was riding by his side and Syamin thought of how Aadron had looked for most of the week.
“Aadron,” he asked. “Is there anything wrong?”
“Wrong?” Aadron turned his head towards him, though in the darkness he could not see his expression.
“You’ve been looking terrible all week, in fact ever since we crossed into the shadow of Nadais,” Syamin said. “I’ve seen that look on Radik so many times. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t tell you because there was nothing you could do to help,” Aadron said. “Not while my mother was alive anyway. By the time she died, it was too late for me to just turn my back on my men. I had to manage as best as I could.” He paused. “That’s why I was in Mirrel that day, to know if the shadow would really affect me. My mother used to believe that the mark didn’t make the magician, that as long as I wasn’t taught, I was only a warrior. Though I knew different, I’d never been in the shadow and I wondered if there was any truth to it.”
“It was a crazy risk,” Syamin muttered. “Aadron, you don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be, but the mark of the magician is not something you can run from. Sooner or later a situation will come when you might be forced to kill someone, not to save yourself, but someone else. Situations like that arise all the time in a battlefield. Are you really prepared to take that chance?”
“I don’t know,” Aadron muttered. “You think I should be a magician?”
“There’s nothing that prevents you from being a magician as well as what you are now,” Syamin said. “Only difference is everyone will know you’re a magician, so they’ll be that careful around you.”
Aadron chuckled. “Frightened of me, you mean?”
“As frightened as we are of Radik,” Syamin said. “It’s your choice, Aadron, I’m just saying that you have one, no matter what you think.”
Aadron said nothing and Syamin focussed on guiding his horse. He wished Aadron had thought to confide in him earlier, but Aadron was right. He couldn’t have done anything while Serione was alive. He wondered if he would have left had he known. It was too big a burden for Aadron to have carried alone, but he had done it and well too. Syamin sighed. He would worry about Aadron later. There must be a way to help him.
It was late morning when they reached Dell. The village was awake, and they could see smoke spiralling upward from the many chimneys. A villager came running as soon as they entered the main street.
“Thank Sur you’re here, my Lord,” the man said. “Great Aster is here, and he’s half dead from exhaustion!”
Victory and Defeat
Marian was aware of fury as she had never felt before when she saw the prisoners escaping. She blamed herself. Somehow, they had got free and she hadn’t noticed. Semil was shouting orders, and though some of the men were saddling horses to go in pursuit, the majority just stood there, mutinous looks on their faces. Someone picked up a bow and fired an arrow, which missed the wagon by a couple of inches and flew past it to hit a tree.
“I need ten volunteers,” she shouted above the din. “Ten men at our Lord’s side to follow and recapture those prisoners!”
The mutinous looks faded, to be replaced by confusion and relief. Ten among the men had already hastened to obey Semil stepped forward.
“We’ll follow you and our Lord, my Lady,” one of them said.
“As will I,” Amrose said. Marian nodded in satisfaction. Amrose might be useless in battle, but his presence would keep the men in line should they change their minds later.
Semil walked towards her. “I must thank you once again,” he said.
“I warned you they will rebel if you push too hard,” she said. “Let them rest here, and join us later. With the men we have, we can catch up with the fugitives. The wagon cannot go as fast as our horses. There’s only one horse tethered to it, and it will tire soon.”
Semil nodded as he told the rest of the men to stay there and rest and join them in Lykos in the morning. Marian saddled and mounted her horse, still sore from the earlier ride and battle. Every one of them looked exhausted, except Amrose. His sleep in the shrine of Nadais appeared to have rejuvenated him.
If only it were that easy for the rest of us, she thought. Her mind inexplicably went to her dreams. She had been having the same dreams over and over again now. Dreams where she was not sold into slavery, but had become a healer instead, dreams where she was in Aster’s house, healing people as a disciple of Nadais, dreams where she was being stabbed by a faceless stranger, whose voice sounded like Sadjah’s. She had no idea what any of those dreams meant, but they disturbed her. It was like different lives that she could be leading. Was it possible that had her parents not sold her and her brother, she would have become a healer, and could have had a happy, peaceful life in a village?
She wondered what Sawres was doing and where he was. After she had been bought by Semil, she had never bothered to find out what had happened to him. She had completely forgotten him, until her dreams brought him to mind. Was he still alive? Did he find a good master, did he join the slavers, or did the slavers put him to death as was their practice when a slave of a certain age had still not been sold.
It was said that Emperor Astillan had been a slave once. That he had been saved from death by the magician Allayne and that he had passed laws that made it a crime for slavers to mistreat, starve, punish or kill any slaves. Since his death, the council had turned a blind eyes to whatever the slavers did, and the slavers kept the pockets of the councillors well lined in return. She had learned all that from her teachers because Semil had said he had no use for soldiers who were ignorant.
