Ashesa and her three companions’ mounts had to pick their way so carefully through the broken stones of the pass that walking would have been faster. And there was no grass to speak of to supplement what grain they could carry. When one of Ashesa’s escorts’ mounts came up lame after the first day, that was enough. She ordered the mounts linked together in train and had one of her escort lead them back to Kuldun with a written apology to the Abbot for not listening to him in the first place. Ashesa and the two remaining guards went ahead on foot.

  "How much further, Highness?" asked one, a burly veteran from Lyrksa.

  Ashesa studied the Abbot’s map. "Once we leave the pass? Another two days to the general area, if I’m reading this right. The Abbott couldn’t be more specific than that. And don’t call me ‘Highness.’ Especially if we’re around strangers—"

  "I’m afraid your secret is already out, Highness."

  The man emerged from behind a large boulder, an arbalest cradled casually in his arms. He didn’t really look like a bandit, but his attitude was something else again. Ashesa’s guards as one stepped in front of her and reached for their swords, but the arbalest moved ever so slightly and they stopped, hands on their hilts, glaring.

  "You can only kill one of us with that thing, you know," said the Lyrksan.

  The man nodded agreeably. "Excellent point. Have you decided who it is to be yet?"

  Now that Ashesa’s initial surprise had passed she took a good long look at their waylayer. "Lord Vor, why are you doing this?

  "

  He looked surprised, but only for a moment. "Well, damn," he said. "As for my presence, I could ask you the same thing. In fact I will in a moment or two. Now there’s other business."

  He killed the Lyrksan first. Just a quick, almost casual change in the arbalest’s direction and he fired, striking the man square in the chest. In the shock and surprise his less experienced companion almost didn’t get his sword out in time to block Lord Vor’s almost equally sudden attack. Vor had dropped the arbalest almost as soon as he’d fired it, drawn his sword, and closed the gap between them. The remaining guard parried twice, thrust and missed. Then he missed the next parry and went down under Lord Vor’s blade just as Ashesa managed to get her own blade out.

  Lord Vor, not even winded, shook his head and Ashesa moved on guard. "Highness, you do not want to do that."

  "You’re right," she said, as calmly as she could manage. "Yet I don’t seem to have any choice."

  "I won’t hurt you."

  "Considering the evidence of my own eyes you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you."

  Lord Vor tore a strip of cloth from the tunic of one his victims and began to clean his sword. "I am sincere. If you tell me what I want to know and otherwise behave yourself, it needn’t come to that."

  Ashesa looked grim. "Fool that I was, as soon as you were recognized you killed those men. I don’t think you intended to do that before then. And I know who you are better than they."

  "It’s true I hadn’t quite decided what to do," he admitted. "I could have played the anonymous bandit all else being equal but, yes, your reaction did rather force my hand. Regretful but necessary. So. How did you know? To my knowledge we’ve never met before, and it was only your conversation with your escort that revealed you to me."

  Ashesa listened with only half of her attention; the rest was devoted to finding an avenue of escape. There was none that she could see. "Duke Laras came to Morushe three years ago and you were with him. We were never formally introduced, but I like to follow what my Father is doing, and who comes and goes in our house."

  Lord Vor sighed. "Politics. It has been the undoing of many, and may be yours, Highness. You’re no match for me and you’re only making this difficult. Put down your sword."

  "I may surprise you."

  "Unlikely. Highness, I don’t know why you’re here but I suspect our concerns may overlap and I’d like to find out if that’s the case. If there can be no mutual understanding then I may have to kill you, with regret, but if you attack me I’ll kill you anyway. Isn’t a slim chance better than none?"

  "I have a slim chance of beating you," Ashesa said, "and that’s better than none. Which is what I would have without my sword."

  "Why are you here, Princess? Traveling the pass at Kuldun so late in the season? Dressed not very convincingly as a common squire? Who are you looking for?"

  "That’s not your concern. I may forgive your attack on my guards if you explain it very damn well, but if you detain or harm me Prince Galan will have your bollocks for a door knock!"

  "Two lies. You will not forgive me for your guards and that’s one more reason to kill you. That rather charming scenario is also not Prince Galan’s style at all. Even if it was that’s only one more reason to kill you. You are not helping yourself, Highness, and it’s past time you began, because I have appointments to keep and no more time to waste with you. Put down your sword."

  "No."

  He shrugged. "Your choice…."

  Ashesa had no illusions about her chances, but even she was surprised by what happened next. Lord Vor thrust, not very fast, and Ashesa blocked and attempted to extend her blade past Vor’s guard. He slipped his body to one side and looped her arm with his own as she slid by. One twist of his wrist and Ashesa screamed in sudden pain, dropping her blade.

  "You won’t find this move in a treatise, Highness. It comes from being in battles with your life on the line. It’s fortunate for you that you are not."

  Then what seemed like a night full of stars exploded against her skull and that’s all she saw for a moment. Then the stars went away and left, just for a while, the darkness.

  §

  Tymon greeted Seb and his ‘captives’ when they reached the mountain. Seb hurried off to see about supper, leaving Tymon and Duchess Mero alone except for Lytea, who was fast asleep in her mother’s arms.

  "It’s good to see you again, Your Grace. Even under these circumstances."

  Duchess Mero handed Lytea over to him before she dismounted, slowly. "It’s good to be out of that saddle. The rest remains to be seen."

  Tymon cradled the child in his arms, careful not to wake her. "Of course it’s as you say. I hope your stay with us will be brief and uneventful. The facilities are a bit primitive, I’m afraid," Tymon said, and nodded toward the campsite. "But your tent is already prepared. It is waterproof and gives privacy. We’ll make you as comfortable as we can."

  Duchess Mero looked at the tent and shrugged. "It’s better than sleeping on the ground, and I certainly don’t want Lytea out in this weather any more than necessary. This is no place for a child, Master Tymon."

  "Again you are right, Your Grace," Tymon said, as he handed the sleeping girl back to her mother. "But it cannot be helped. I wouldn’t ask this if it was not necessary."

  She raised an eyebrow. "And I wouldn’t have agreed except for the debt I owe and fear of what your plans might become without my co-operation. I’m here at least partly to keep an eye on you. Do you blame me?"

  Tymon shook his head. "Not in the slightest. There are few assurances that I can offer, and I couldn’t advise you to put much faith in such pallid things anyway."

  Mero couldn’t help smiling. "I’ve never heard lying counted as one of your sins. And I could do with a bit of assurance right now. Please try."

  "I want to help your husband, Your Grace, although he doesn’t know he needs and certainly doesn’t want my help. I also swear that I mean no harm to you or your family."

  "Unless it can’t be avoided?"

  Tymon shrugged an apology. "I will do my very best to avoid it. You can at least trust me on that."

  "Well, then...for my sake—and yours—I hope that is enough."

  §

  Seb kept a discreet distance while Mero and Tymon spoke. After she withdrew to her tent to get settled, Seb went to Tymon. "She’s rather amazing, isn’t she?"

  Tymon nodded. "We often measure each other by how well we rise to occasions, or fail to. I’ve learned never to question strength, wherever I find it."

  Seb looked around. "Where’s Koric?"

  "Hmmm? Oh, off somewhere brooding, I fancy." He explained what had happened in the cave, and Seb let out a low whistle.

  "I don’t really blame him; that’s a lot to deal with in one so young."

  "Especially at a time of life when every stubbed toe is a tragedy."

  Tymon’s mind was clearly somewhere else, for all that he seemed to be carrying on a conversation. Seb spoke up. "There’s something on your mind...I mean more than usual. Is it anything I should know about?"

  "I don’t know," Tymon said. "I’m not even sure what it is."

  "Tymon, there are several people’s lives at risk here, including yours and mine, and you’re worrying me."

  "I am? I don’t mean to. Yes, there’s something wrong. I feel it. Not the Long Look—at least then I’d know whether there was cause to worry or not. As it is..." He shrugged.

  "A feeling? Such as?"

  "I once saw a cat stalk a field mouse. The mouse was in the grass beside a stand of tall weeds that concealed the cat. I could see the cat slipping forward, inch by inch, its body taut as a bowstring before the shot. The mouse was nibbling a seed, oblivious. Then, while the cat was within striking distance but still, making no sound, the mouse suddenly dropped the seed, and started to run. It was too late. The cat had him."

  "Charming anecdote, but what has this to do with this ‘feeling’ of yours?"

  "The way I feel now is how I imagine the mouse must have felt, just when he dropped the seed."

  Seb let out his breath after he realized he’d been holding it for a moment. "Oh," was all he said.

  "Indeed."

  Seb buckled his cloak. "I’m going to find Koric. I’ll say I need help with supper. This probably isn’t a good time for any of us to be wandering off alone."

  Tymon waited until Seb was out of earshot then said, to no one in particular, "Actually, this might be the perfect time."

  §

  AM I AT YOUR BECK AND WHIM NOW, Tymon?

  Tymon stared at the dark waters for some time before he answered. "What you will do and what you will not do is up to you, Amaet. I did not suggest otherwise."

  YET YOU PRESUME?

  "To ask a simple question? Yes. You’ve raised so many in our time together I don’t think it unreasonable to suggest you might want to answer one. A small one."

  YOU WANT TO KNOW WHAT’S HUNTING YOU.

  Tymon sighed. "You know about that. I am not surprised. That is why I came here. Will you tell me?"

  I WILL. BUT WILL YOU UNDERSTAND? THAT IS UNCERTAIN.

  "Just name this creature to me. Is it a Power?"

  THAT IS TWO QUESTIONS, AND NEITHER IS THE RIGHT QUESTION, COME TO THAT. ITS NAME? YOU COULD CALL IT ‘AMAET.’ OR ‘AMATOK,’ FOR THAT MATTER. EACH IS EQUALLY RIGHT AND WRONG.

  "Riddles, again."

  THE TRUTH, AND PLAIN ENOUGH. IT IS A POWER, YES, BUT IT HAS NO NAME FOR ITSELF BECAUSE IT IS NOT A "SELF" AS YOU UNDERSTAND THE TERM. IT WANTS TO BE DARKNESS. IT WAS DARKNESS UNTIL PRINCE GALAN FOOLISHLY CALLED IT OUT AND LINKED IT TO YOU. SO LONG AS YOU EXIST, IT EXISTS. SO LONG AS YOU EXIST, IT IS LOOSE IN YOUR WORLD.

  Tymon felt a chill. "It will only be free when I am dead?"

  YES.

  "How do I fight it?"

  Tymon heard laughter that seemed to come from everything around him, including the willow and the dark waters.

  FINALLY, THE RIGHT QUESTION. YOU DON’T FIGHT IT, MAGICIAN. YOU CAN’T.

  "Then what do I do?"

  THE ONLY THING YOU CAN DO. YOU DIE.

  Ω

  16 death and the magician

  Ashesa awoke with stiff wrists and a raging headache. The sun had barely moved; by her own reckoning she had only been unconscious for a few minutes at most. She tried to push herself to a sitting position and realized her wrists were bound. She had a vague memory of her struggle with Lord Vor, but nothing after. She lifted her bound hands and touched the lump on her jaw. She wished she hadn’t. Now she had a brand new pain to add to the raging storm in her skull.

  Lord Vor sat a short distance away, studying the Abbot’s map. "Apologies, Highness, but you didn’t give me much choice."

  Ashesa groaned, rubbing her throbbing temples as best she could with bound wrists. "Lord Vor, when did you go mad? Palace gossip is usually more reliable about the state of the nobility."

  He chuckled, then went back to studying the map. "Not so simple as that, Highness. I’m not mad and barely noble; I’m simply determined to know what you’re about up here. I don’t think this mountain pass has had this much traffic in fifty years or more."

  "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

  "Yes, you do. You’ve clearly been mucking about in areas of action and policy that are frankly unsuitable for one of your status. You’re traveling with so little escort that it amounted to none at all, and you can call me addled?"

  Ashesa sighed. She opened her eyes again and regretted it, but did not change her mind. After a few moments she was able to focus again. "Lord Vor, my head hurts and I’m in no mood to discuss my affairs with anyone and especially with you. Untie me this instant."

  "Not until you tell me why you’re here. As for your headache, it may go away or it may kill you...I’ve seen the like often in battle. Either way, right now it’s the very least of your worries. Am I making myself plain?"

  Ashesa nodded, slowly. More than plain. What he had done called for either the noose or the headsman in two kingdoms...if he was that lucky. Ashesa didn’t know what Lord Vor’s plans were but she just couldn’t see how releasing her could possibly fit into any of them. "I can understand your curiosity but not your willingness to kill to satisfy it. Will you at least tell me why my business is so important to you?"

  He shrugged. "It may not be important to me at all; that’s the real chance I took in eliminating your escort. I can’t answer your questions, Highness, until you answer mine. Let’s start with this map of yours."

  "It’s a map. You can read it as well as I."

  "I know where it goes. But where does it lead? What’s at the other end?"

  "Is idle curiosity worth a death sentence?"

  "Highness, there is nothing idle about me. The stakes are high and you are a complication I did not expect. If I acted rashly I apologize, but it doesn’t change anything. Just tell me what I want to know. If you don’t, I will kill you."

  "You’ll kill me whether I do or not. You have to, now."

  He smiled then. "Do I? Did you ever stop to consider that your importance to the Farlands might someday diminish—"

  He stopped himself, but too late. "You are Duke Laras’ man," Ashesa said. "This is his doing, isn’t it? What is he plotting?"

  "Nothing, thanks to Prince Galan and that damned tame magician of his."

  "Tymon the Black? You think he serves Galan?"

  "I know he does, and his reach is long. Laras will not risk his family for ambition. Fortunately for him, I will. No, Highness. I do serve the rightful rulers of Borasur, but Duke Laras knows nothing of this as of yet. When he does, it will no longer matter. The throne will be his, and alive or dead, the daughter of the royal house of Morushe will no longer be a threat. Now, answer my questions."

  "No. Let me go."

  Lord Vor walked over and struck her across the face. Hard. Her headache exploded in agony and she sank to her knees, as stunned by the attack as she was by the pain, which was considerable.

  Damn me for a dull fool.

  Despite all that he had done, Ashesa had still expected that there was a core of reason to Lord Vor’s actions, something that would restore her rightful relationship to him as a servant of Galan’s vassal and a knight of the Farlands. It was only the second time her view of the world had been so rudely undone, and she cursed through her tears, as much for her own slow wit as Vor’s treachery. She stopped the tears. Pain or rage or both, whatever their cause, she stopped them.

  My idea of you was too limited, Lord Vor. I will not make that mistake again.

  "I’m waiting," he said, "but not for very long."

  She had to give him what he wanted. At least until she had an alternative. "You were right, at least about one thing. That map leads to Tymon the Black."

  Lord Vor smiled. "There. That wasn’t so difficult as you thought."

  Ashesa let her tears fall again. That wasn’t difficult, either, and it seemed to satisfy Lord Vor’s expectations. Though Ashesa swore to herself that, sooner rather than later, Lord Vor’s expectations of her would be rudely surprised indeed.

  §

  Tymon and Seb sat together by the slowly dying campfire. Duchess Mero and her child and long since gone to their tent, and Koric to his. When Tymon was quite certain they would not be overheard, he outlined his plan in detail as Seb listened quietly and patiently to everything Tymon had to say to him. When the magician finished Seb looked him in the eye and said, "It won’t work."

  Tymon frowned. "Which part?"

  "Any of it. All of it. Your schemes have always been risky, fragile, and foolhardy, but this is the first time I’ve been tempted to call one completely insane. You’re trying to do too much. There are too many chances, most out of your control. Madness."

  "There have been times when I haven’t tried to do enough and I regret those lost opportunities more than I can say. I’m sick to death of regrets, Seb, and even insanity has its uses."

  "For instance?"

  "For instance, when the ‘sane’ thing to do would be roll over and die."

  Seb tried again. "Tymon, how do you know Amaet is telling the truth? How do you know that you’re not serving some arcane scheme of her own?"

  "As for the first, I don’t know. As for the second I do, since I am always serving some arcane scheme of Amaet’s, in ways I can’t hope to comprehend. She is a Power after all, and if I don’t owe her worship, I certainly do owe her debts of one sort or another. I think she’d like to see me live long enough for her to collect."

  "That’s just it. If your plan works, you may die."

  Tymon blinked. "May? My death would probably be the best possible outcome, for all concerned and for reasons well known to you."

 

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