The Fire Mages (37 page)

As he spoke, heads nodded in agreement, and there was a general murmuring of approval. It was hard to believe, but in a few sentences Drei managed to set normal legal practice aside and convince everyone in the room that it was right and proper to chop a man’s head off in the heat of the moment, contrary to centuries of legal practice. Even Yannassia was nodding in assent.

“You are right,” the Drashon said, his voice stronger again. “Captain, go ahead.”

“But take him outside first, if you please,” Yannassia added acidly. “The ladies do not wish to watch a beheading.”

Unbelievably, there was a ripple of laughter. Daskan was dragged away again, and fortunately the excitable chattering in the hall drowned out any other noises.

Later, when we were all leaving, servants were scrubbing the floor in the corridor outside.

There was a long queue for the carrying chairs, but I was restless enough not to mind the walk. My apartment was not far away, but somehow I hesitated. After all that had happened, the thought of returning tamely to the rooms I shared with Drei was abhorrent to me. He was rarely there, but what if he should decide to sleep there, tonight of all nights? How could I possibly face him after he had denied Daskan any chance of a trial?

Yet I understood his reasons for acting as he did; he had to ensure that Daskan had no chance to speak in public, to stand before witnesses and claim that Drei killed Lakkan. At all costs he had to be silenced.

What I wanted more than anything was to be with Cal. I was exhausted in mind and body, tired of the charade of playing the dutiful drusse, tired of pretending Cal was no more than a mentor. I wasn’t sure quite what I wanted him to be, but anything had to be better than the situation we were now in. Most of all, I was tired of the constant fear we were both dragging around with us. I had done nothing wrong, for I’d only slept with Cal when I was legally free to do so, but that wasn’t an argument that would placate Drei. Slowly I’d come to see that Cal was right – Drei was a very dangerous man.

While I was dithering, the two mages emerged from the chattering crowd milling about outside the feast hall. The female mage was using her staff to force her way through, with Krayfon and their mage guards in her wake.

“Kyra! Kyra, wait!” Krayfon called, rushing across to me. “A word, if you please.” He drew me a little way down the corridor, and waved away everyone but the female mage. “We need to talk,” he said, in a low, urgent voice. “What happened tonight... Kyra, can you do that? Can you make everyone agree with you?”

“What?”

“You saw it!” he said impatiently. “The Lady Yannassia was quite properly calling for a full trial, and – and
that man
said his piece and everyone –
everyone
– says oh yes, great one, anything you say. An entire hall full of nobles, all with different policies and objectives, who never agreed on anything their entire lives, who suddenly agree that a man should be executed on the spot just because
that man
said so. He has some power over them, and I need to know if you have it too, Kyra.” He was hissing with anger, his face close to mine.

Instinctively I leaned away from him. “I don’t know. I’ve never tried.”

“Well, you should find out. It would give us something... some small thing to use against him.”

“What are you going to do?” My voice shook. Tackling Drei head on was not something I wanted to be part of. “What
can
you do?”

“That remains to be seen. But child, you must be very careful. You are the only person in the world who has power equal to his. Were it not for that baby of yours, I believe you would be in grave danger. I am going to be very authoritarian and insist that you stay at the mages’ house from now on, where at least we have a few wards in place to protect you. But not alone. Stay with Cal, he can look after you. Tomorrow I will summon all the mages to a Forum, and we can discuss what can be done about this alarming young man.”

I shook with relief. I could go to Cal after all. Indeed, I must, for the senior mage insisted on it. But I was under no illusions about the difficulty of the task the mages were undertaking. What could possibly be done to stop Drei now?

Cal was still awake and dressed when I reached his door. He took one look at my face and the blood staining my gown, and drew me inside, dismissing the guards and birthing nurse with a click of his fingers.

Krayfon was harder to dismiss. “Make sure she stays here,” he said curtly. “Do not let her leave the mages’ house, you understand? There will be a Forum in the morning to discuss this.”

Cal nodded, and finally was able to shut the door. After the turmoil, it was blissfully quiet in his apartment. It was nothing special, just a few rooms with a mismatched collection of elderly furniture, which he’d been given when he was permanently assigned to Kingswell to mentor me. He’d done nothing to improve its looks or comfort, merely scattering discarded books and items of clothing onto every surface. The best that could be said about it was that it was homely, but to me it exuded safety and it was just what I needed.

“Here, sit. Do you want some wine? Anything? Shall I send for some cakes?”

That made me laugh despite the tears rolling down my cheeks, but I shook my head.

“Then tell me all about it.”

He sat beside me on the sofa, his arm round my shoulders, as I lay against his chest and mumbled the whole story into his shirt, damp with my tears. When I’d finally run out of words, we sat in silence. I was half asleep when he shifted a little.

“Mmm?” I murmured, sitting up a little. “Do you want me to go?”

“No, of course not. Are you uncomfortable like that? Do you want a cushion?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Late pregnancy is an awkward time. My mother always had terrible backache.”

“I didn’t know you had a mother,” I said. “You’ve never talked much about your family.”

He chuckled. “Everybody has a mother. I’m the third of ten, the first three when she was drusse to the local Kellon’s brother, then an accident with a passing merchant, then she settled with a candle-maker. The poor woman was always pregnant, it seemed, always miserable. She loved her babies, but hated the pregnancies.”

I smiled at him. I loved it when he was in this relaxed good humour. “I don’t get aches and pains,” I said. “My body heals itself.”

“Of course it does. You don’t even have to think about it, do you? It just happens. I can heal myself, too, but I have to do it consciously, drawing power from the jade vessels.” A long pause, then his voice lowered. “Kyra, aren’t you afraid of him?”

I’d just watched him order an execution, how could I not be afraid? “A little, yes. But I don’t think he’ll hurt me while I’m pregnant.”

“He’s so volatile there’s no knowing what he’ll do.”

“But I’m safe here, aren’t I?”

“There are wards around the mages’ house against anyone with evil intent, it’s true, but they’re very ancient and no one knows quite how they work. They seem to keep Drei out, however.”

“What do you mean?”

“He came here once, when he was first known to be a mage – you know, all the tests they made you do. He had to do them too, but he could barely get across the threshold. So we know he won’t be at the Forum tomorrow.” He pulled me closer, and rested his head on mine, burying his face in my scarves. “Oh Kyra,” he said, his voice muffled, “I’m so afraid for you. I couldn’t bear it if...”

He made a soft noise, half sob and half groan, his fingers tingling against my cheek. I couldn’t help it, I lifted my face up to his and kissed him with all the pent up longing I’d been building up for moons. Then we both cried and kissed again and clung to each other as if the world was ending.

~~~~~

Cal was right, Drei was the only mage missing from the Forum. There were more than twenty in the room, and, apart from a couple visiting from Shandyria, all were from Kingswell.

“Well, I’m glad everyone is here,” Krayfon said, “because this is possibly the most difficult challenge any of us has faced in a generation or more. We have to decide how to deal with a rogue mage with great power, who is also deeply embedded in the political system. Firstly, we need to...”

“With respect, my esteemed colleague,” one of the women said. “I believe there is another matter we must address first.”

“What is that, Landra?”

“Her,” she said, pointing at me. Heads swivelled, and all eyes gazed my way. Some were neutral, like Krayfon, but quite a few were openly hostile. “She’s his
drusse
, Krayfon. She carries his child. She can’t possibly be unbiased in this affair.”

“Of
course
I’m not unbiased,” I said hotly. “How could I be unbiased about the man who
forced
me to become pregnant, and then kidnapped me?”

“You expect us to believe you feel no residual affection for him?” she spat. “You must think us very gullible.”

Cal stirred. “Kyra speaks the truth. I can vouch for her, if you think it necessary.”

“That is hardly convincing,” Landra said. “You were her drusse-holder before the Dush-Bai-Drashonor, and we barely know any of you. How can we be sure you are not all plotting together?”

Cal sighed. “Because of this.” He raised his tunic high enough to reveal the jade belt, fumbling with the ties to unfasten it. He threw me a rueful glance. He’d hoped to keep his power secret, but we had to convince the mages to trust us. I nodded slightly, to let him know I approved. He held the belt out to Landra. “It should fit you quite well. You’ll be able to tell if either of us is lying.”

She made no move to take it. “What trick is this?”

“No trick. It holds eight vessels, and gives the wearer similar power to the Fire Mages. We found it in the Imperial City. Give it a go.”

“Does it permit the making of fire?” one of the others said eagerly.

Cal smiled. “Would you like to find out?”

The mage was almost as skinny as Cal, so between them they got the belt fitted without too much difficulty. Almost at once his face lit up, and he gazed round the room, eyes wide. “Oh! I can see... Oh, that’s astonishing!”

“Stop wittering, Selmo,” Krayfon said, frowning. “Describe what you are experiencing. With precision, if you please.”

My aura was what he was experiencing most, it turned out. He could make out some of the vessels, too, and with a bit of encouragement he managed to produce a puff of flame from one finger. It was some time before anyone could get a coherent word out of him after that, but eventually Cal got him to focus on detecting lies, and after some tests he confirmed that Cal and I were speaking the truth. Only then was Krayfon able to get the discussion back onto the subject of Drei.

It was both illuminating and depressing to hear the mages’ opinions on Drei. They were unaffected by his voice power, and since they were familiar with the high-level politics which neither Cal nor I understood, they brought a dreadful clarity to bear on all the events of the last few moons. Many of them had known the previous High Commander and his deputies, some were even related, so they had no doubt of their innocence. Cal told them what he knew of Lakkan and his brothers, and they muttered over it and shook their heads.

“It is all ambition,” said Landra. “The Fire Mage wants to be Drashon, that is what it comes down to.”

“Is that possible?” I said. “He’s not an heir himself, only married to one.”

“Spouses have equal status and equal rights, once confirmed, and he has already been confirmed.” She screwed up her face in distaste. “So easy to get what he wants; he just opens his mouth and everyone rushes to accommodate him.”

“He might not need to dispose of his wife,” someone said. “She is entirely compliant.”

“True, but he certainly does need to dispose of the Drashon, and also the Drashonor and this foreign wife of his,” Krayfon said.

“Not the foreign wife,” Landra put in. “She is not yet confirmed. Council set the usual five year delay from the date of the marriage, and if the Drashonor dies before then.... And the child is easily disposed of.”

Krayfon heaved a sigh. “But there is also the tiny problem that whenever the Drashon or one of the heirs dies, there has to be a thorough investigation of the circumstances. It would be too easy for heirs to kill each other off, otherwise. And
we
do the investigating.”

“Except—” said Queltz, holding up one finger. All eyes turned to him. “Except if the death occurs during battle. No investigation then. Hence the need for the Fire Mage to make himself High Commander of the border guards.”

“You mean he’s taking us to
war?
” Cal said in appalled tones. “We’ve been on peaceful terms with our neighbours for centuries. How can even Drei stir up a war so quickly?”

“Peaceful? It is more a matter of balance,” Landra said. “We have had warrior tribes on three sides of us for ever, and we survived by inter-marriage and a policy of non-interference. Now the Blood Clans to the west are in disarray, fighting over the leadership, and to the east the Vahsi – well, the Vahsi have always been unpredictable, but there hasn’t been an organised raid along the border for some time. And now we have this treaty of mutual support with the Icthari to the north.”

“You mean the war will be to the south? Against the coastal ports? Our
allies?
” Cal said, aghast. The other mages nodded, unsurprised.

“Easy pickings,” Krayfon said. “They have virtually no defensive force, you know. They depend on us to protect them. Ha! More fool them. It has been mooted for a long time, you know, as a way to secure our essential supplies and not have to pay the high taxes they charge us. Axandrei has brought things to a head, that is all. The border guards have been moving to the south for some time now.”

“We will be at war in a few suns,” Landra said. “The Drashonor will be obliged to go, the Fire Mage will go too, and behold, the Drashonor will meet a tragic but heroic end on the battlefield. No investigation, the foreign wife will still be unconfirmed, so the Lady Yannassia will automatically become the heir. Easy.”

“And then the Drashon dies.” Cal passed a hand across his eyes, distressed. “He’s already frail. Will that need an investigation?”

Landra looked uncertain. “Krayfon? You are the expert on that aspect.”

“At his age, only if there is evidence of foul play. We all
suspect
poison but—”

“Poison!” I said in horror.

Krayfon sighed. “We cannot be certain, of course, but we think Axandrei’s mother has skill with such compounds. The Icthari are famous for that. We believe he feeds poison to the Drashon, then cures him repeatedly so that all the time he gets weaker. He could die at any time and we could do nothing about it except report our concerns to the Nobles’ Council. Yet they are in Axandrei’s thrall, so...” He shrugged, hands spread wide.

“So what must we do?” Cal said. “Can
anything
be done to stop him?”

Krayfon shrugged ruefully. “It is difficult. The usual way with a rogue mage is to remove the vessel. If there is resistance, we use binding. Of course, here there is no vessel to remove, and binding, it appears, is ineffective.” He glanced across at me.

“All spells are ineffective,” I said. “At least, I’ve never come across one that worked on me, and I assume Drei is the same.”

Krayfon grunted. “So that leaves us with the ancient methods. There are said to be five ways to kill a mage: poison, fire, drowning, suffocation or an arrow or sword through the heart. Did I get those right, Queltz?” The old man nodded, his white hair bobbing. “None of them seem very likely. Fire – he can probably control that. Poison – he can heal himself. Drowning – that would be fine if we could tip him into the ocean, but we have nothing deeper than a water trough here. Suffocation – how would we even get him still enough to attempt it? And as for running a sword through his heart, he wears chain mail even under formal wear. What do you think, my dear?” he said, turning to me. “Have I got that right?”

“It’s hard to say how he would respond to fire or poison,” I said, “but the sword – he must remove the chain mail sometimes, surely?”

“Only in bed,” Krayfon said.

“Perhaps we should ask the Lady Yannassia to run a sword through her husband,” someone said, but no one laughed.

“There is another possibility,” I said. “His magic is not a fixed resource. The level rises and falls, and it can be withdrawn by another mage. I could draw all his magic out of him, if he were asleep, or unconscious, perhaps. That would leave him powerless, and he could be bound.”

“That wouldn’t work for long,” Cal said. “He has some natural way to replenish his power – as you do – and we don’t know what that is.”

“Most probably the sun,” I said. “That’s what powers the pillars in the Scriberies.”

“Possibly. But you see the difficulty? Sooner or later his power would return.”

“But it would give us some time,” Krayfon said thoughtfully. “If we had even a short time when he was helpless, we would be able to do something. There are mind-taming spells that might work.”

“There’s a place in the Imperial City,” Cal said. “I suppose it’s a dungeon, but magic doesn’t work there. He could be kept locked away where he couldn’t harm anyone.”

“Possibly.” Krayfon sounded doubtful. “If you could get him there. If his powerful friends could be persuaded not to interfere. How do you know of this place, this dungeon?”