The Black Robe (The Sword and the Spell) (31 page)

Nyte was on her feet instantly with the knife drawn ready to protect herself and her eyes narrowed with anger. Tozaman put a restraining hand on her arm and gently pushed her knife down. “Nyte, this is my friend Oraman who helped me rescue you. He has brought more food and wine and perhaps some fruit as well?”

Oraman nodded and held the packages out for her inspection but he still didn’t take his eyes off the girl clutching the knife.

“Does he know who I am?”

“Yes, most of the Brotherlords do but nobody else.”

“Will he help?”

Tozaman thought he would let his friend answer for himself but then suddenly realised he wasn’t certain what the answer would be. “Yes, Brotherlord Oraman will help us but you must give him time to get used to the idea, and us time to plan what should be done next. Now go and see what Oraman has brought for you. He will stay here with you until tonight when I will return.”

Oraman walked hesitantly forward, smiled nervously at the girl and handed her the two wine skins and the packages. He’d been happy enough to stay here with her for one night when she’d been away from life, but to stay another night with her whilst she was awake was a different matter. Leaving her to open the parcels he walked back with Tozaman to the door and held up his arm to stop him from slipping through.

“What have you done, Tozaman? What have you told the girl?”

“Everything; who she was and what happened to her and her family. She doesn’t remember much of it but she is ready to take it all back with our help.”

Oraman scowled in irritation. Things were moving far too fast for his liking. “We’re playing a dangerous game here, Tozaman. It’s too soon to be talking about taking a throne. The girl is confused and unpredictable and not all of our brothers will be happy about this. Some of them will have trouble seeing her as anything else but Tallison’s whore. Even if we could persuade them that she has a right to the throne there’s no guarantee that they would support her against Tallison.”

Tozaman pulled his arm away, angered that his friend wasn’t as excited as he was about what could be achieved. He opened the door a fraction ready to slip away but turned back for a moment. “Talk to her, Oraman. Listen to what she has to say and then decide if you want to serve her or Tallison.” He gave his friend a smile of encouragement and slipped out into the early morning sunlight.

*

Dravim sat on the pile of stones which had once been a watch tower and stared down morosely at the lump of hard bread in his hand and the withered desert bush apple in the other. He threw the leathery fruit angrily to one side and tried to bite into the bread before throwing that after the apple. His stomach complained and Dravim cursed Tozaman to Talis’s pit of eternal agony. When he’d told the Brotherlord that he’d taken the gems to help his sister and her children it had almost been the truth. It was only after they had been found out and Bradge had suggested that Tozaman shouldn’t leave the mine alive did he realise that there had been other motives which had driven him to take the precious stones. They were good reasons, reasons which Talis, whose words were wisdom, preached to his followers.

He had told Tozaman that all he wanted was what a man should have by right, expecting him to understand but he hadn’t and why should he? Tozaman was a brotherlord and the eldest son of a brotherlord and had never wanted for anything in his life. Brotherlords never slept on the ground or went hungry. They didn’t have to stand guard all day in the baking sun or tend the waste pits. No, Tozaman had everything he wanted, the best clothes and horses, ardas to drink whenever he wanted it and any woman that took his fancy, and why? It was just because his father had been the leader of one of the twelve tribes and that wasn’t fair.

Tozaman hadn’t earned those privileges, he hadn’t worked and bribed and killed to achieve his rank as he had. Just because he wanted some of what Tozaman had the Brotherlord had taken everything from him which he had gained through hard work and guile and had condemned him to a life of misery. Dravim kicked out angrily at a loose stone and winced as its sharp edge caught his toe. That wouldn’t have happened if he still wore his boots but the new brotherhand had taken them as soon as he had been appointed. Boots were for officers not armsbrothers doing menial duties.

Other things had gone too; his dress robes and cloak, his mattress, even the silk squares he used when he visited the waste pit. The new brotherhand used to wash them for him but now he had to wash them for the new brotherhand. That wasn’t the only disgusting thing he had to do. All the dirty, degrading tasks he used to mete out as punishments were now being given to him and when he’d finished for the day he ate whatever food was left and slept in the dirt in the place closest to the stench of the refuse tip.

He’d already had enough of being just another armsbrother. If Tozaman wouldn’t favour him then he would have to find a way to get him replaced and a new brotherlord appointed, perhaps even himself. In order to do that he would have to watch Tozaman carefully and wait for the right moment to move against him. It wasn’t going to be easy, not with all the tasks the brotherhand had given him.

At least he knew everything there was to know about the brotherlords’ camp so watching Tozaman without being seen wouldn’t be that difficult. He slipped off the block of stone on which he had been sitting, picked his way over the rubble and carefully made his way to where the brotherlords had their encampment. As he had thought it was simple enough to find a place to watch the brotherlords who were in residence come and go, so he settled down and waited for Tozaman to appear.

Inside the temple it was dimly lit making Tozaman stop for a moment to adjust his vision before closing the door behind him. Nyte sat on the rug with her head resting on Oraman’s shoulder and for a moment he felt a stab of jealousy nearly as strong as the day his father had given his brother the stallion he’d wanted. Nyte saw him first and jumped to her feet with a big smile of welcome and Oraman rose to his feet a little more sedately. He looked relieved and pleased to see him. Feeling a little ashamed of his unwarranted jealousy he pushed it to one side and went to greet them, giving Nyte the packages he had brought and receiving a kiss on the cheek in return.

Oraman and Nyte must have talked for a long time because the Brotherlord looked nearly as excited as he had been that morning and could hardly wait for him to put the wine skins he carried onto the floor. “Tozaman, Brotherlord, you were right. I have decided that I would prefer to have Malia on the throne of Sandstrone instead of Tallison.”

Tozaman smiled at his friend’s enthusiasm. “Has Nyte told you of our plan?”

Oraman nodded but still looked thoughtful. “Yes, but I think it should be you who should go to Astazin and persuade our brothers to bring their tribes here to support Malia’s claim. You are much more persuasive than I am.”

“No, it has to be you. You are the senior Brotherlord and the others will listen to you. Even if they don’t listen you can at least return with your own men.”

Nyte interrupted them. She agreed with Oraman that Tozaman would be more persuasive but she didn’t want Tozaman to go, she only felt safe when he was with her. “Tozaman is right. If the youngest of the brotherlords asks his brothers to join him in rebellion they will dismiss the notion as foolishness or will spend an eternity of moon cycles discussing it but if you ask them they will see it as wise council.”

Oraman raised his eyebrows but decided not to argue with her logic. He had no liking for Federa’s temple and the thought of spending another four nights in its gloomy interior didn’t fill him with excitement. “When shall I leave?”

“It would be best if you were to leave tonight, as soon as it’s dark and you won’t be missed.” Oraman looked even more surprised; he hadn’t anticipated leaving that soon. “This is urgent, brother. The last of my patrols are due back in two days and then I will have to take my men back to Astazin and our window of opportunity will be gone.”

Oraman nodded. He knew that was true but he still didn’t like to be rushed into things. “Very well, I will leave tonight when the moon has risen and I have had the chance to gather my things and say goodbye to our brothers.”

He picked up his cloak and the empty wine skins and gave Nyte a deep bow before walking to the door where Tozaman waited for him. “Ride carefully, brother, and return as swiftly as the desert wind blows the sand.”

“And you be careful, Tozaman. Don’t do anything rash or heroic and I will see you in four days.”

They clasped arms and Oraman slipped through the door and out into the darkness. Tozaman turned back to Nyte who was sitting on the rug and smiling at him. He would have liked to have been the one to go to Astazin and return with the brotherlords to overthrow Tallison instead of staying here and keeping an eye on things. It would have been much more exciting, but Nyte was here and he really didn’t want to leave her. By the look on her face she hadn’t wanted him to go either.

Wearily he sat down beside her and gave an involuntary yawn which made her laugh. This was his fourth night without sleep and he could feel its demands tugging at him, making his eyes sore and his thoughts sluggish. Nyte must have guessed at his exhaustion because as soon as he sat next to her she pushed him down and told him to rest. He obeyed reluctantly and in moments he was asleep.

At the edge of the brotherlord’s camp Dravim jumped suddenly and cursed himself for a fool as the sound of boots and a horse being made ready for travel woke him from his doze. The menial tasks he’d been forced to work at all day must have made him more tired than he’d thought. He would have to be careful he didn’t fall asleep and miss anything of importance. Carefully he pushed the large pile of horse blankets he’d been hiding behind to one side so he could get a better view of who was preparing to travel.

When he saw it was Brotherlord Oraman he frowned; he hadn’t seen the brotherlord all day and when he did appear he was suddenly in a hurry to leave for somewhere else. What was more, he was travelling alone, which was very strange. Brotherlords usually rode with an escort and always with a servant or two. Although his actions were curious Oraman wasn’t the one he was waiting for so he pushed the horse blankets close together again and waited for Tozaman to appear.

Dawn was only just lighting the sky when his quarry appeared looking slightly crumpled like an armsman who had spent the night sharing his seed. If Oraman’s behaviour had been odd this was even stranger. In an intimate moment Tozaman’s sister had told him that her brother abstained from Talis’s command that a man should share his seed with many women and here he was returning from doing just that. It wasn’t the sort of thing he could use against Tozaman but if he knew who the women were then he might be able to use them to find out other secrets about the Brotherlord.

The problem was he needed to be here when Tozaman left for his nightly jaunt and the only way that he could ensure that he was in place was not to leave at all. If he didn’t complete his assigned tasks that day he would be beaten with a heavy cane until there was no skin on his back. If he failed in his duty two days running he would be counted as a deserter and executed but if he could find something on Tozaman the positions would be reversed. He’d done far more dangerous things than missing a day’s duty when he’d last clawed his way up to be a Brotherhand, so this was a chance worth the taking. He settled down closer to the bottom of the pile, pulled one of the horse blankets around himself and watched the comings and goings in the brotherlords’ camp.

Just as the sun was setting half a dozen men left the small pavilion at the centre of the camp, bowed to each other and went their separate ways. He knew there had been a gathering of brotherlords and the senior officers in the pavilion for most of the afternoon, but had no idea of what was being discussed. That didn’t matter. Tozaman had been amongst them and that was all he cared about. When the group separated he wasn’t sure which one was Tozaman. As he watched, two of the brotherlords walked in the direction of their personal quarters but one hesitated slightly and then headed in the other direction so he decided he would follow him.

The man didn’t make tracking him easy, stopping twice on the pretence of emptying a stone from his boot whilst looking around him to see if he was being followed. Dravim, walking some distance behind, didn’t stop in case the man noticed him and changed his mind about where he was going. Instead he slowed his pace and changed direction slightly so that he could loop around the man and come up on his right hand side. By the clothing he wore the man he followed was clearly a brotherlord and he could have been Tozaman but he still wasn’t certain.

He circled around until he was in the shadow of the crumbling city wall and then hurried back to where he thought the man should be just in time to see the brotherlord disappear through the gap in the wall where the great ebon gate had once stood. Entrance into the city was forbidden but surely Talis would forgive him if he was spying on someone who was disobeying the god’s commands? He slipped through the gap with his heart pounding, almost expecting the spirits of those who had been corrupted by the houses of stone and had died there to leap out at him, but they didn’t. The only things that were in the city were crumbling buildings and the hissing sound of falling sand.

Following the brotherlord was simple now. Once he was inside the derelict city the man made no effort to conceal himself but moved quickly through the deserted streets avoiding the piles of rubble and the fallen buildings. It was easy for him to dodge from building to building without being seen. Once he’d been so close to the brotherlord that he’d spotted the splinted fingers and bound hand and knew for certain that the man had to be Tozaman. When at last the man stopped he quickly ducked behind the wall of a roofless house not being able to believe what he was seeing.

He’d been born in the city but had no recollections of ever living there except once when he’d been taken to see the giant, red circular building which occupied the central position. It was that which he was looking at now; Federa’s temple, forbidden to all the people of Sandstrone by Talis himself on the threat of death and eternal damnation in the god’s pit of endless torture. He watched as Tozaman looked behind him, almost as if he was checking to see if anyone was there, and then climbed the steps and passed through the door which opened for him. Dravim smiled to himself. When he was certain that Tozaman wasn’t going to leave again before dawn he stole away into the darkness.