The Fire Mages' Daughter (38 page)

For three suns we waited in the Keep. The commanders determined the best positions for the archers and mages, changed their minds, changed them back again. The mages had had no time to prepare more than a handful of sleep spells and a bucket of firestones, but it hardly mattered. They were no warriors, and few of them had the power of my mother or Cal, able to hurl fire with a thought. And even if they had all been equally skilled, there were not enough mages in Bennamore to take on the might of Ly-haam’s beast-riders. We had no defence against them.

They came at night. We could see nothing at first, without the moon’s light, but we heard them. At first it was a low rumble, like distant thunder, but as they neared the city the sound distilled into the voices of many beasts gathered together, a great herd roaring its hatred of us.

And then they were upon us, their bellows and shrieks echoing through the empty streets and bouncing off the walls of the Keep. We were surrounded by a clamorous sea of rage.

On the roof, the archers scanned the dark sky nervously, straining their eyes for the glimmer of an eye, or a patch of starry sky between the clouds suddenly blotted out. I had my own eagle perched high on a turret, and watched through her sharp vision, but although all three of our eagles were agitated, the attacking birds kept away from us.

Later in the night, when the moon rose, we looked down from the parapet at the roiling mass of beasts swirling about below us, in constant motion. The walls were smooth and high and unblemished, and the gates were solid metal, so there was no way for them to reach us. But they were too far away for us to hit with spells or for me to take their magic, so we could not reach them, either.

We were under siege, and with no option but to wait it out.

At dawn, the birds came, swooping out of the still-dark sky in a great spinning, flapping mass. The crossbow wielders brought down eight or so, and I took magic from five riders, before they thought better of their approach and wheeled away. For several hours we waited for a further attack, but none came.

I had ordered a space to be cleared in the observation room, and a table and chairs set out, so that the commanders and mages could have a refuge to eat or confer in that was solidly stone-built, but still near to any action on the roof. Now we were all glad of it, snatching a hasty morning board in turns as we fretted and wondered when the next attack would come. But by the middle of the morning, even the lions and other beasts began to drift away from the Keep, and I judged it safe to hold a planning meeting.

“They are as ill-disciplined an army as I’ve ever seen,” said one commander. “Even the Vahsi hold a line and march in step, at least to begin with. And when they open an attack, they never, ever break away. Not like those birds. They just turned and ran. Well, flew, I suppose.”

The other commanders laughed. They were more relaxed now that they had seen the enemy. We were no nearer defeating them, but at least we all felt safe within the Keep. The birds couldn’t get to us, it seemed. We had fresh water, and we’d had time to lay in good supplies. It wouldn’t last for ever, but it was a relief to know that we had time, time to plan and find a way to win.

But I didn’t want them too relaxed, and I was tetchy from lack of sleep. I wanted Arran with me, supporting me, watching my back. Even though I was surrounded by armed soldiers, it wasn’t the same. And I worried about him, trapped up at the border. Who knew what might crawl out of the black-bark forest next?

“So they are ill-disciplined,” I snapped. “We can bring down a few birds. How does that help us? We still have hundreds of these creatures roaming the streets unopposed.”

The commanders looked sheepish. I found them a poor bunch, to be honest. The army’s cream had gone off in our proud invasion of Blood Clan lands in the spring with the High Commander, and presumably their bones were as bleached as hers by now. The second best had gone to reinforce the border fortress, and were presently holed up there like rabbits in a den, waiting for the fox to dig them out. Any others with decent skills and fitness were scattered around the rest of the border, keeping watchful eyes on the Vahsi and our supposedly friendly neighbours. All that remained at Kingswell were the old and the infirm.

But they were not stupid. “What do these people actually want?” one wheezing old commander puffed. “Usually an army has an objective in mind – land, women, horses, gold. Sometimes they just want to wreak devastation and go away again. But this lot are almost mindless. They’re not burning the city to the ground, they’re not looting, they have no weaponry beyond simple spears and bows. I may be wrong, but I don’t see them having the capability to construct siege engines or catapults. So what are they here for?”

It was a very good question, and I had no answer for it. The scholars had a great deal of research on the Blood Clans, but most of their invasions in the past had been highly organised affairs, where the mounted warriors acted as an attack guard and shield for many thousands of foot soldiers, armed and trained in the usual ways. They made their conquests not just by the terrifying size and appearance of their beasts, but by sheer numbers. It was, in many ways, a very conventional approach, and only the beasts themselves, and the unusual ferocity of all the combatants, distinguished them from any other conquering army.

But Ly-haam’s ragged band was not like that. There were no foot soldiers, no dependence on weapons, no great numbers. Nor had they attempted to take and hold the land. They had simply rolled past the fortress and on down the road to Kingswell, as if reaching the city was the only objective. Yet even here they made no attempt to dig in, to construct defences or camps or root out anyone hiding in basements or odd corners of buildings. It was hard to plan a strategy against such an enemy when they defied all the usual principles of warfare.

“We have no time for philosophical questions,” I said impatiently. “What are our military options?”

“We are attempting to increase the range of our bows,” the wheezy commander said. “That way we might be able to hit them from up here. Any
normal
defensive position would have arrow slits built into the walls, but unfortunately—”

“Yes, yes, yes,” I snapped. “But these windowless walls have ensured the safety of the Keep’s inhabitants for… well, probably thousands of years. They have never been breached. That is an advantage, I would have thought. What else?”

They exchanged glances. One shrugged. “Sit out the siege, Most Powerful. Winter is coming, and these creatures will lose interest eventually.”

“So that’s it? We wait until they lose interest? Oh, go away, the lot of you. Go and rearrange the archers again, or some such. And tomorrow I want some better ideas from you. We have height, remember. There must be things we can throw at them from up here. Now go.”

They shuffled out, and I was heartily glad to see the back of them.

That left me with the mages. As with the army, the most versatile of them had gone off to the fortress, and many others were scattered about the various towns, carrying on the routine business of selling healing and protective spells to the population.

But I had my mother, the most powerful of them all, and I had Cal, almost as good. And at least the mages found the problem interesting. They hated using their magic to make weapons, but they were happy to spend endless hours analysing the situation. When I asked why, they said simply, “This is a magical problem, so naturally it is of great interest. It is
our
problem.”

So when the commanders had gone, the mages pulled their chairs into a tighter cluster round the table, called for more brew and wine, and settled down for a lengthy discussion.

“Let us go over it all again, and think about this logically,” Mother said. “Maybe we can find a weakness in them. These people have magic in their blood, we know that. And some kind of blood exchanging ceremony goes on at fifteen, which does what, exactly, Drina? Unleashes their powers?”

“Something like that.” I paused, frowning, trying to pull together everything Ly-haam had told me with the many books I’d read on the subject. “They have some ability from birth – an affinity with a beast or… or mushrooms, or something.”

“Mushrooms?” Cal said, eyebrows aloft.

“So Ly said. Then at the ceremony, one of the elders gives them blood… somehow. Sometimes that enhances their ability, and if they have an affinity with a beast, they can then… oh, I don’t know how you’d describe it. Form a bond with it. It’s a mental bond, their minds are connected.”

“As yours is to your eagle,” Cal said. “You’ve acquired the same ability.”

“Yes, and not just the eagle, all sorts of beasts. Ly’s gift to me.” I was silent, remembering that frantic first coupling, both of us terrified yet unable to resist, and afterwards, his seed mingling with my blood. And then, a moon later, realising that certain mental senses were enhanced. “Actually, I think I had some kind of affinity before. I understood languages. I think Ly just increased that. I suppose that’s what happens at the blood ceremony – the children already have some ability, but the infusion of fresh blood enhances it. And every once in a while,
‘the blood runs true’
, as they say, and the ceremony makes a
byan shar
. A chosen one, with the power of all of them. And the power to control all of them.”

“All the beasts, you mean?”

“No, all his people. Ly can communicate with them all, can summon them, can take control of their beasts. A male
byan shar
is destined to be a war leader, but…” I paused, remembering Ly’s earnest face. “It’s not supposed to happen until he’s thirty at least. I don’t know why he’s doing this now.”

“Perhaps it is just retaliation for the war,” one of the mages said. “We started it, after all.”

“Perhaps. I don’t know.” The commander’s words came to my mind. “I don’t know what he wants. He kidnapped me to stop the war, he said, but now he’s making things far, far worse.”

“Well, whatever he wants, he can’t have it,” Mother said briskly. “The army can’t seem to stop him, so it’s down to us. But I feel quite uncomfortable at the prospect of killing these people. The beasts, yes, because once they become hostile there is nothing much that can be done with them, but their riders… I pity them, to be honest. When you take away their magic, Drina, they are so lost and bewildered, with no idea what they’ve been doing at all. I would much prefer to do that, if we possibly can.”

“But I can’t reach them from up here,” I said. “They have to be quite close.”

“Then we must find a way to get you closer to them,” she said.

And that gave me the glimmering of an idea.

~~~~~

“This is madness,” Mother said crossly. “You are far too vulnerable out there, Drina. No one can protect you. Even if Cal goes with you, he is only one man.”

“One
mage
,” I said, smiling at her. “Stop worrying. I am just going to fly down, perch on a nearby rooftop and have a little look around. I’ll be straight back.”

“What can possibly go wrong?” Cal said with a grin. Like Arran, he loved these reckless adventures.

We were on the roof with the eagles, waiting for dawn to bring us enough light to fly. We had quite a collection of eagles now, for the brief encounter when the Clans arrived had provided ten more who were unharmed, or only lightly injured and able to be healed. Only a few had been too badly hurt. They seemed happy to stay with us, chittering together on the roof or flying off to hunt. The commanders grumbled about it, but they seemed quite friendly.

As soon as it was light, Cal and I mounted our birds and circled the Keep. We were both nervous of encountering the other birds with their Clan riders, but they were nowhere to be seen, not even with Sunshine’s more acute eyesight. Another, wider circle brought us over a part of the city with wide streets and stone-built houses, some with flat-roofed towers perfect for the eagles to land. Disappointingly, there were no Clan riders in sight, although we could hear their raucous cries not far away.

Still anxiously scanning the sky for other birds, we followed the sounds, keeping high above the chimneys and roofs.

“There!” Cal yelled, pointing.

A large square in the merchant district had attracted quite a crowd, who were scrapping for access to a small water trough to one side. Riders and beasts alike were snarling at each other, and a pair of lions were rolling in the mud, seemingly trying to kill each other. Several riders were sparring with ferocious intensity with spears, and it didn’t look like a training match to me. I was glad I was not down at ground level.

Cal gestured to a building with an area of flat roof where we could land, and we circled round, to approach from the far side. I wasn’t confident we could remain unnoticed for long, but it seemed that the Clans were too busy fighting each other for the moment to bother keeping a lookout.

I dismounted and crept to the edge of the roof. The wall edging it was low, so I knelt down and peered over.

Cal slithered up beside me. “Well?” he whispered.

I opened my mind, trying to connect with one or other of the riders. But before I could make contact, my concentration was broken by a piercing scream.

“What was that?” I said.

“Over there, I think. In that alley beside the jeweller’s shop.”

Another scream, louder, but abruptly cut off. The riders around the water trough were beginning to take notice now, drifting across towards the alley.

“I see it,” I said. “A girl. No, two girls, carrying something. Can you see?”

“A bag, I think. I guess they were out looking for supplies. Shit, they’re surrounded.”

“Is there anything you can do?” I whispered.

“Not from here. If Kyra were here… no, even she wouldn’t be able to help. Shit. I can’t watch this.” He buried his face in his arms.

In desperation, I reached out as far as I could. Beasts – beasts everywhere, but I couldn’t touch their minds. I could take magic from the riders nearest me, but that was no help. I stretched further. Surely there was something I could reach?

Tiny bursts of emotion. Hunger. Fear. Desire. More hunger. All around me were the little animal minds of rats, mice, cats, a couple of dogs, even a snake, tucked away in cellars and walls and underground pipes. If I could only call them to me, what a wonderful distraction that would be.

I tried. Nothing. I spoke the words aloud. Nothing. Fear for the two girls erupted as anger, but that just made the little creatures terrified.

Two more screams, in unison. Time was running out. The encircling beasts were moving closer, ever closer, snarling, showing fearsome teeth.

Calm down. Take a deep breath and think it through. What I wanted to do was to bring all the rats and other creatures out into the open, instead of hiding away in their dark holes. But they had to want to do it. That was it! I had to give them the desire to emerge.

I closed my eyes, concentrating. One by one, I pushed a burst of emotion into the mind of each creature. Such lovely fresh air, so much open space, and the warmth of the sun… Again and again and again I pushed…