Color Mage (Book 1) (40 page)

The door opened enough for Kirian to see a thread of lamplight, a burly armed man with long, braided hair, and a glimpse of Lord Forell, swathed in a dark robe huddled in an armchair. The guard said: “My lord!” to Arias. Kirian saw his gaze fasten on Arias’ bare neck.

“Sim! My brother has freed me from that cursed Collar. I need you to guard his escape.”

“Whatever you need, my lord.” Sim glanced back at Forell, then opened the door and slid through the gap. Lord Forell began protesting, his voice plaintive, but it was cut off by the closing door. “Good to see the thing gone, Lord Arias.”

“I think so too. Now, Sim—collect the men, see to the King’s men in the great hall. Just keep them away from my brother as he gets out of here. Try not to kill anyone you don’t have to—I have to come back here after this is all over and face Sharpeyes.”

Callo made a protesting sound at that, but said no more. He leaned against the wall as if he needed the support. He was exhausted; Kirian was not at all surprised by this. She wanted to take his hand, but restrained herself.

Sim headed for the main stairs, which were more centrally located than the servants’ stairs they had come down on.

“We have three flights,” Callo said tiredly. “The King’s men will be at the bottom, you think?”

“Or they’ll be outside, guarding the perimeter. Sharpeyes doesn’t want to let you go, Brother.”

Callo grinned through his fatigue; it did Kirian good to see it. “It’s just nice to hear you say
brother
, Brother.”

“You will have to tell me how in the hell you wound up a ku’an and a color mage.” Arias took a deep breath. “No one is Watching, did you know? For the first time in a hundred years.” He looked upward as if he could see the Tower room. “I hope all is well.”

Callo put his hand on Arias’ shoulder and gave it a gentle shake. Then his gaze fell on Chiss. Kirian saw the frown come down like a thunderhead. Callo took a breath as if he were about to say something, then stopped himself and turned away. Kirian looked back at Chiss and was surprised to see the distressed look in the man’s eyes.

Arias saw the exchange. “You must slay him, Callo.”

Callo did not respond.

“You can’t trust him. Jashan’s eyes, he almost killed you up in the Tower! How can you trust he won’t have a sword at your neck when you least expect it?”

“I will do my lord no more harm,” Chiss said.

Callo shifted, and looked at the central stair. It looked dim and deserted—typical of a castle in the middle of the night. There was no sign of alarm from downstairs.

“I think that’s enough time,” Callo said. “Let’s go.”

“Go,” Arias said. “Look, send me a message when you are settled. I will come to you, help you with the magery. You will need help from someone who knows how to contain it.”

“Arias, you idiot, you can’t stay here!” Callo objected. “Sharpeyes will have you slain!”

“No. He won’t murder one of his
righ
magelords unless he wants to risk insurrection from the rest. I’m safe, Cal.”

“It won’t be murder if he thinks you’ve committed treason, Arias. Not a soul will stand with you. Come with us, I say!”

Arias shook off the insistent hand. “Let me go! This is still my castle, and I will not leave it by dead of night. My uncle will not have me killed. I know him—better even than you, Cal—and I say it is so. Go, now before we are all caught!” From a distance, Kirian could hear sudden shouts and the clash of weapons. Her nerves jumped.

“Callo,” she said.

“If you have no other place in mind to shelter, go south towards Fortress. There is a farm just as you come off the mountains, just after the steep decline—it belongs to a friend of mine. Tell Arter I sent you. Now, go!” Arias shouted, as the sound of combat came closer. Callo grabbed Chiss’ arm and spun him around in front of them, shoving him forward.

“Jashan’s favor, Arias,” he said, then said to Chiss: “Go, man—now!”

They ran back to the servants’ stair and hurried down the steps. The only light came from the lamp left burning at the second landing. Kirian wondered if Callo was too drained to light their way with magery. They stumbled as the lamplight faded. Kirian put her hand out to guide herself by the wall. Chiss gasped, a few steps below her; he had stumbled, but she heard Callo swear and pull him back up.

The stairs finally opened out onto the first floor. There, Callo peered to the right, where the great hall was a cacophony of shouts and loud noises as Arias’ guardsmen fought the King’s men. Swords clashed and men grunted and yelled. Some of the men were without their leather armor, clearly awakened from sleep in the hall to the demands of battle. There was a crash as something heavy fell, and a big mailed body came staggering back through the door. The man fell, swearing vengeance against whomever had pushed him back, then hoisted himself back up and barreled back through the door, sword drawn.

“Treason,” Callo mumbled under his breath, observing the chaos in the great hall. Kirian had to agree the King would be unlikely to pardon such open battle against his men.

The fight moved away from the door, and Callo took advantage of that to pull Chiss out of their sheltering doorway. They moved fast and low through the servants’ hall, past the deserted kitchen, into the scrubroom where Callo paused for just a moment, checking to make sure they were not followed. Just as he turned his head away, there was a hiss through the air as a blade slashed for Callo’s throat.

He ducked to the side, but the blade caught his shoulder. Kirian heard the breath go out of him as the shock hit. Then he flung color magery at the attacker in a haphazard splash. The figure staggered and went down in a clatter of buckets and tubs, kicking at the things that hampered his movement.

The color magery faded. Callo swayed for a moment, his eyes gone dull with exhaustion. The attacker, struggling to rise, flung an arm out and around Callo’s legs and pulled hard, and Callo fell. The King’s man grinned – she could see his teeth under the line of his helm in the light from the kitchen fire. He stood and reached again for his sword as Callo tried to rise.

Kirian shrieked a warning. Chiss came up from where he had been waiting, grabbed Callo by the arm, and pulled him bodily away from the attacker. Then both Callo and Chiss were on their feet, and the attacker backed off in Kirian’s direction. She turned to flee but felt a huge arm pull her close, a hand over her partially open mouth.

“Kirian!” Callo shouted, weapon raised—then hesitated as the King’s man held her close as a shield. The stink of sweat and horses enveloped her. Kirian bit down hard on the thick fingers over her mouth. She was gratified to hear the man curse and pull his hand away, but he only wrapped it around her waist instead. Struggling, she kicked and elbowed, but could not get free enough to do any real damage. The man’s hand tightened.

“Come with me, little bastard,” the man jeered at Callo. “Or I’ll slice her wide open.”

Callo’s eyes sparked color magery. “Go to hell,” he told her captor, and focused on him with a furious intensity that made her heart race even faster. For the space of several breaths, her captor held still, seemingly frozen. Then his hand fell away from her as if she burned his skin. She pulled away. She ran to Callo’s side and looked back. The attacker’s face had gone slack; then he dropped his sword, suddenly screamed into Callo’s face, and ran into the darkness.

The ku’an’s skill. Kirian sighed in relief. Callo turned to her, grabbed her in a tight embrace. He was breathing hard. “Kirian, did he hurt you? If he hurt you I’ll . . .”

“No,” she interrupted, her free hand stroking his arm. “I’m fine. Thank you. Callo, can you do that to the King’s men in there?”

“There are too many,” he said. “It’s beyond my skill—also, I don’t have the energy required to do it right now. The sooner we’re out of here, the better for everyone. Let’s go.”

He looked at Chiss, but did not hold him at swordpoint again. “Let’s go,” he repeated, and led the way out the kitchen door into the darkness outside. Chiss gave Kirian a thin smile and followed her out.

A perimeter had been set up for the King’s visit, and the guardsmen had been alerted. Kirian could see two of them, backs against a nearby outbuilding, and she was sure there were many more. She knew the cliff path to the village would be guarded.

Callo took a slanting path into the trees, staying low. She followed, afraid every moment that the guards would see her or hear her boots scuffing on the ground. Callo led them away from the stables, away from the cliff path. The trees enfolded them. Callo stopped and turned, looking back towards the castle. Now that they were under cover of the trees, looking back toward the castle wall, Kirian saw that they were fortunate that they had exited through the servants’ kitchen door. Guards paced atop the wall, and more guards stood near the stables and the cliff path. She thanked the Unknown God for watching over them, turned to whisper something to Callo, and found herself staring into a strange face. The guard was mailed and armed. Kirian somehow kept herself from crying out, but Callo must have heard her sharp, indrawn breath, because he was there, looming up behind the guard in the darkness and slamming his sword hilt into the man’s head. Chiss caught the man as he collapsed, and they dragged the man into the undergrowth.

* * * * *

When they reached the caravan road, Callo and Chiss stayed well off to the side as they backtracked north to recover their horses. At least, Chiss’ gelding and Miri were loosely tethered to some branches off the caravan road; Kirian’s mountLady was lost to her, since she had left the mare with Ha’star’s horse off the Two Merkhan road before they followed the path back to SeagardVillage. At least Lady would be safe—it was a well-traveled road. She was sure the first travelers on the road that day would find the horses and thank the gods, especially, for their good fortune in finding such a lovely mare. It would be a bit of serendipity for them. She hoped whoever it was would be a good master to Lady.

Kirian heard Miri’s nicker out of the darkness as the mare recognized Callo. Callo freed her, murmuring soft words into Miri’s pricked-forward ears. He turned to Kirian and said, “You may have Chiss’ gelding, Kirian. As for you . . .” He turned toward Chiss and paused.

Chiss just looked at Callo and said nothing.

Callo sighed. “I won’t pretend to understand you, Chiss. I should have slain you already instead of hauling you along with us through the castle. But you saved my life when you dragged me away from that King’s man.”

“I can explain, my lord,” Chiss began. Callo made a frustrated gesture, and waved Chiss off.

“I have no time for your explanations. I owe you much, I can’t slay you now in spite of your betrayal. We need your horse. But you may go where you will.” He turned away and mounted Miri. Kirian mounted the gelding and followed. Callo stared ahead into the darkness, but Kirian looked behind. Chiss stood in the near-darkness and watched them walk down the dark road.

They went with caution, alert for King’s men searching for them on the road. They kept the horses to a walk to avoid making noises that would draw the notice of any pursuers. Perhaps the King did not think they could have made it to the caravan road; at any rate, they saw no sign of pursuit as they retraced their steps back to where the Castle loomed up to the west of the caravan road. There, they dismounted and left the road, walking the horses through the undergrowth and between the dark trees. Branches and weeds scraped at Kirian’s legs. Miri slapped her tail around her flanks, skin quivering, as she tried to shake off the bloodsucking night insects. Kirian’s ears strained for any sound of alarm, but she heard nothing. After the dark bulk of the Castle sank into the general blackness behind them, they remounted and returned to the road.

Less than a candlemark later, she heard sounds behind them.

“Callo,” she whispered, but he had already heard. He directed Miri off the road and dismounted, hand on his sword hilt. Kirian waited, holding her breath, eyes straining through the night.

“It’s me,” said a low voice out of the gloom. “I’m alone.”

She relaxed.

“Chiss?” Callo’s whisper held a note of disbelief. “I told you to go.”

“You said go where I willed, my lord. This is where I want to go.”

“Som’ur’s cursed eyes, Chiss, don’t you know when you’re not wanted?”

“I know well I am not wanted, my lord.”

“Yet here you are.” Callo swore again. “I am too damned tired to argue with you in the middle of the road. We will discuss this when we reach shelter, Chiss. Until then I swear, if you make one suspicious move, you had better be ready to greet your gods.”

“I understand,” Chiss said.

* * * * *

Kirian lay wrapped in a rough wool blanket on a mound of straw and thanked the Unknown God she was not in Las’ash city any more. If she were, her reputation—even as tattered as it had been—now would be in shreds, and she would undoubtedly be in prison again and headed for stoning for immodest behavior.

When she had curled up on the straw, finally released from the day’s barrage of shocks, her heart had begun to race. She could not keep a loud sob from escaping her. Callo had come to lie down next to her. He had put his arm around her and drawn her close. A few minutes later, he had fallen asleep, his arm still around her. Now she listened to his even breathing in the darkness, luxuriated in the feel of his warm, lean body, loose and relaxed against hers. In Las’ash City this would have been grounds for stoning.

In the darkness she could hear the grunts and small movements of the animals that stayed in this barn, as well as their own horses. Chiss was rolled up in a blanket somewhere near the horses. She had no idea what motivated the man to stay with them after Callo released him. He was an enigma—his action in the tower room at the Castle when he had threatened Callo totally opposed to his lifetime of service. She did not believe that his continued presence was a danger to Callo. But then, she never thought he would try to kill his lord either.

Arter, the landholder here at the little farm, was a woman. She listened stony-faced to their explanation and to Arias’ name and showed them to the barn, explaining that she could not let them disturb her children in the farmhouse. Callo accepted that with
righ
manners, bowing to the little woman as if he were in Sugetre. Arter brought them cold roast meat and ale and blankets and left them to rest.