The Assassin's Edge (Einarinn 5) (56 page)

Steps were cut into the side where the approach road met the mound. ’Gren, Shiv and Sorgrad stood on successive treads.

“Kneel,” said ’Gren, lowest and closest to us. The boys fell to their knees and at ’Gren’s gesture, Ryshad and I left them grovelling to go and flank him.

“All we require is that you bear witness.” Sorgrad’s words were sonorous with the archaic accents I’d heard from the Sheltya. “Life cannot thrive without death. Acknowledge this debt and those who have gone before will guard and guide you.” I saw the boys pale beneath the tan of their summer duties, eyes huge.

“But there is a balance to be observed. Ilkehan profaned it.” Sorgrad’s words were as implacable as the tread of the hangman to the gallows. “He returned ill for ill thrice and fivefold. He visited profligate death on the innocent and defiled the exile of the guilty with blood. He has died at our hands for these offences.”

The weaker lad huddled ever closer to his companion. The bolder one gazed at Sorgrad in horrified wonder.

“We will destroy Ilkehan’s power root and branch. Malice and greed desecrate this place and the dead will not suffer such taint. Bear witness,” Sorgrad repeated. “Whoever will rule this land must bring clean hands and raise a new sanctuary or suffer our wrath.”

He turned and walked slowly up the steps, Shiv at his shoulder. ’Gren and I followed with Ryshad.

“What now?” I asked out of the corner of my mouth.

“Stand in the middle and keep still,” Shiv murmured.

Where Shernasekke had been happy with roughly hewn stones for their hargeard, Ilkehan’s were smooth and regular, evenly spaced and looked so precisely upright you could test them with a plumb line. The circle was as perfect as one drawn with Pered’s compasses. Each stone was twice as tall as Ryshad, maybe more, not squared at the top but cut at an angle, all the same, edges so sharp you might fear to cut yourself.

The stones were not the tallest monument to Ilkehan’s arrogance. An inner circle was made of wood. Great pines had been stripped of branches and bark, smoothed and then more prosaically steeped in pitch to stop them rotting. This dark, sterile thicket towered above our heads, forbidding, around the innermost sanctuary where four triangular stones waist high and concave on every face marked the corners of a paved square in the centre of the whole edifice.

“What would you say the breadth of this is, compared to Olret’s?” Ryshad looked around with a calculating eye. “There’s some constant measure used here, I’d bet on it.”

“Shall we worry about that later?” The five of us stood between the stones; Shiv at the centre, Ryshad behind him and Sorgrad in front. ’Gren and I at either side. I frowned. ”Where are those cursed goatherds?”

“They can’t have got far. They’ll see this regardless.” Shiv raised his hands and the hargeard responded to the elemental magic with a crashing clangour like a bell tower collapsing. I hastily clapped my hands to my ears. Eldritch dignity be cursed, I didn’t want to go home deafened. Unperturbed, Shiv wove his spell and hail hammered down on the stones. Only on the stones. The ice melted and steamed in the evening sun, dark stains trickling down the grey sides before the water paled to frost. Now chill, like the breath of winter, floated off the rocks like smoke. The smooth stones began to split, hairline cracks widening to ragged fissures, flakes and chips of rock falling away.

I saw Shiv concentrating on one particular stone. The great sarsen began to tremble until a blue-green knife of magelight clove it from top to bottom with a sound like the slam of Saedrin’s door. Which meant I missed whatever Shiv said to Sorgrad but the results spoke for themselves. Sorgrad rubbed his hands together to summon a ball of magefire and threw it at the wooden pillar on the off-hand side of the steps. The fire wrapped itself around the smooth black surface, bright tendrils spreading like some creeping plant, clinging to every crevice, flames blossoming on the dead wood. Crimson fire writhed, vivid beneath the smoke that billowed up. The ever-present breeze fanned the flames and the erstwhile tree became a column of golden fire and black smoke.

We could feel the all-consuming heat where we stood. I had no desire to end up toasted but bit my tongue on a plea that Sorgrad be careful. Distracting him would be even more dangerous. Then a veil of turquoise mist shimmered all around, cooling us. I mouthed silent gratitude to Shiv.

Sorgrad raised his hand and scarlet fire flowed from the burning timber to the next, flames tumbling down like water, soaking into the pitch. Natural flames took hold as the crimson magefire bowled across the ground, turf unscorched by its passage but the next wooden upright soon blazing.

“Where do you suppose Ilkehan got these trees?” I asked Ryshad.

“Dalasor,” he shrugged. “A shipyard maybe, raiding someone’s mast pond.”

With no more to do than either of us, ’Gren joined the conversation. “Me and ’Grad were wondering if Ilkehan had been stealing sentinel pines.”

“Interesting idea.” Ryshad had to raise his voice to make himself heard over the roar of flames.

“The trees that mark the drove routes?” What I know about Dalasor can be told in one of Ryshad’s mother’s jam verses. Grasslands endless enough to lose even the biggest herd of cattle in hold no attraction for me.

“They were planted by the Plains People.” Ryshad shrugged. “Ilkehan may have known some lore we’ve lost.”

I looked a little guiltily at Shiv. “Do you think Planir fetched any of those books away?”

The mage didn’t answer, still intent on the destruction of the hargeard. The steady crackle of burning wood raised a menacing threnody all around, the shattering of the great stones a savage counterpoint.

“They’ll hear this racket clear over in the keep!” I said with exaggerated loudness.

Shiv grinned. “They’ll see it as well.”

Flames were licking up high into the evening sky, scorching the smoke with red and orange hues. “I had no idea you could do this kind of magic,” I told him with unfeigned admiration.

“You never know what you can do until you try.” The wizard turned serious. “That’s half the trouble with Hadrumal these days. Libraries and learning are all very well but apprentices end up thinking if some authority doesn’t say they can do a given thing, that must mean they can’t. We need more mages like Otrick. Unless several sources stated categorically something was impossible and gave clear reasoning why, he reckoned it’s always worth a try.”

“That sounds like Otrick.” Agreeing strained my throat. The magefire was spreading ever faster, leaping over the rubble of the disintegrating stones. We’d soon be encircled. “How are we planning to leave?”

“Over there!” But ’Gren wasn’t answering me. He was pointing to a column of black-leathered men running down the approach road. They fanned out, hefting maces in practised hands.

“We wanted witnesses to see Ilkehan’s power go up in smoke, didn’t we?” Sorgrad weighed a new ball of magefire in one hand, picking out a target.

“Can you see any gorgets?” Ryshad stood beside me, searching the oncoming line.

“I can’t tell them apart at this distance, not with the smoke.” I shook Shiv’s elbow. “We can’t risk you or Sorgrad to someone with Artifice. We’ll never get off these rocks without you.”

“Sorgrad, let the fire go.” Shiv swept his hands around as if cradling an unseen sphere. We’ve got too many elements active and I’m too tired to handle the conflicts.”

The Mountain Man obeyed, which sparked a look of amazement from ’Gren. Azure magelight threaded through the roiling smoke and, ignoring the teasing breezes, wove an impenetrable veil around the blazing wooden pillars.

“Time to disappear,” Sorgrad announced cheerfully.

I looked at Shiv, bracing myself for whatever sorcery had carried us over the ocean and another bout of nausea. Instead, Shiv was on his knees and prying up the slab he’d been standing on. With a scrape to set my teeth on edge it revealed a narrow, stone-lined stair.

I gaped. “Where does that go?”

“Somewhere not here.”

’Gren was already down the first few steps.

“There’s a chamber down there.” Sorgrad cocked his head quizzically at me. “We found it when we scouted the place.”

“What made you think to look?” I took one step down.

“No one would go to the trouble of building something like this and not make best use of it.” Ryshad urged me on down.

“Build it?” I said stupidly.

“You don’t suppose Ilkehan’s forefathers just happened to find a perfectly round hillock, do you?” Sorgrad retorted with amusement. “Get a move on, girl.”

As I followed Shiv I began to see how the mound had been raised from successive layers of that local stone with the useful property of fracturing into handily flat and even pieces. Then I couldn’t see anything at all. With another nerve-shredding scrape, Ryshad let the slab fall back into place and we were wrapped in total darkness.

“I know Mountain Men and Forest Folk are known for their night sight but this is a bit excessive.” I reached out a hand until I felt Shiv’s shoulder.

I felt rather than heard his low chuckle. A faint glow rose from the stones, as if some moisture reflected a distant light. It vacillated between the palest of greens and a whisper of blue before sliding into a suggestion of red and gold.

“We don’t want to give ourselves away,” Ryshad warned from behind me.

“They’re bound to know this chamber is here.” Sorgrad nudged me and I moved carefully after Shiv.

The radiance trickled down the stones alongside us. The stairs twisted oddly, curving back and around but the regular pattern of the stacked stones defied my sense of direction. After creeping around in unlit houses on many occasions and never losing my bearings, that unnerved me.

“They can only send down one man at a time.” ’Gren’s voice changed as he spoke, ringing louder in a wider space. “That means we can kill them all.”

“If they dare come down here.” Shiv stepped carefully off the lowest step, which was an uncomfortable stretch down even for someone with his height. I sat on the bottom tread and swung my feet down to the dark floor below.

Shiv’s vaporous magelight slid away to leave the stairs a black void in the wall of a conical chamber. There were other holes, niches an arm span across. Caught unawares, I shuddered as I saw long bones laid haphazard between ribcages still linked to hip bones by spines and leathery cartilage. Skulls tucked to one side or set one atop another regarded us sardonically, sockets dry and empty. Some of the niches were crammed with tumbled bones but no skulls, some all but empty save for several bony faces keeping watch. Something grated between my boot and the flagstoned floor. Looking down, I saw a small bone from a finger or toe.

I swallowed my revulsion. “Are we giving these people a decent burning?”

“No.” Sorgrad’s sharp response echoed round the charnel chamber.

I looked to see what Ryshad thought but he was studying a section of wall. The stones between the niches were large slabs set upright in the layers that made up the mound.

“We’re here to destroy the seat of Ilkehan’s power.” Shiv looked around before bringing his gaze back to Sorgrad.

“We’re not touching these bones.” The Mountain Man was adamant.

“If you say so.” I shivered again. “So we wait until whoever’s up top goes away?”

As I spoke, the sound of the slab at the top being lifted reverberated down the stair. Without magic to fan the flames, someone bold enough or scared enough of his commander must have darted between the burning tree trunks.

’Gren flattened himself to the wall by the entrance, dagger in hand. “Come and join your ancestors,“ he murmured with glee.

“Or we could try this.” Ryshad leaned all his weight on one side of the slab that had so intrigued him. It moved on a hidden pivot to reveal another black void.

“More bones?” I asked with distaste.

Ryshad peered inside as the elemental light explored the darkness. “No.”

“Looks like a rat trap.” ’Gren barely spared the hole a glance. “Kill enough of them good and loud and the rest’ll think twice about following.”

Sorgrad was already easing past the slanted stone on hands and knees. “If it’s anything like a tyakar, there may be another way out.”

That was good enough for me so I hurried after him, Shiv helping me with a boost to the rump that would have earned anyone else a slap in the face. He wriggled past me to fold himself up next to Sorgrad.

“Get in here, ’Gren,“ Ryshad ordered curtly. The Mountain Man obeyed, reluctance just about visible as Shiv’s fading illumination chivvied him across the floor. The chamber returned to the silent blackness of before.

“What do we do if they come knocking?” ’Gren grumbled under his breath as he tucked himself opposite me.

“Hush.” Ryshad eased the slab closed with barely more than a whisper of stone on stone. This was a mason’s work I could certainly appreciate.

We were sat hunched, shoulder to shoulder, boots uncomfortably tangled. We all tried to calm ourselves, as much to hear what was happening on the other side of the slab as to avoid giving our hiding place away. A faint noise sounded and we all held our breath, straining to hear.

I brought a hand up to my mouth and bit down on the knuckle of my forefinger. Halcarion only knows why but I had a quite insane urge to giggle. I scolded myself silently. That would be ridiculously stupid and quite possibly fatal into the bargain. With us packed like the fish in Olret’s barrels, Ryshad felt my shoulders shaking and took my hand, squeezing it in mute reassurance. I closed my other hand over his strong fingers, feeling familiar square-cut nails and the rough skin over his knuckles.

We heard a determined thump as someone jumped that last deceptive step. A second thud and a third joined whoever had drawn the reversed rune and come down first. Emboldened by the fact they weren’t yet dead, the newcomers risked some light. A torch flame traced an orange thread around the stone protecting us. I couldn’t make out what the muffled voices said but their puzzlement was plain enough as was an encouraging undercurrent of consternation.

“Honoured dead, forgive this intrusion.” A stern voice made us all stiffen. Someone with authority had arrived. A chill gathered like cold sweat in the small of my back as this new voice began what could only be an aetheric chant. What had Sorgrad said about a second way out of this death trap?