Chaosmage Page 34

  “And I know what you are, traitor,” he sneered, but his words had no power to hurt her. Deflated, powerless and alone, there was nothing more he could say.

  Fennetaris turned and walked away while bowstrings relaxed and sighs of relief echoed along the wall. Nevertheless Zannah could sense they were more afraid than before. Fennetaris had succeeded in undermining their morale, and soon news of his visit would spread. He had made Alyssa’s task even more difficult.

  “I have to go,” said Alyssa, frowning as if she realised what he had done and what now lay ahead.

  A few hours later, before nightfall, a long procession of people carrying all their belongings appeared outside the gate. At the front was a group of bedraggled mercenaries. A runner was sent and a short time later Alyssa came back to the wall.

  “Hello, girl,” said the mercenary, trying to act brave in front of the others.

  “Hello, Graff.”

  “Does that offer still stand?” he asked. It cost him a great deal to ask in front of everyone but Alyssa did not gloat or drag out the moment. Her warm smile enveloped everyone in the street and she welcomed them as family.

  There were too many to climb the rope, so although he was physically exhausted the Sorcerer came up from his room. This time Zannah saw Balfruss struggle a great deal to lift the cart, but eventually he managed it. The spectacle gave many people hope where there had been none before.

  By the time everyone was inside and the winery made secure again, it was dark. Torches were lit and a heavy guard set on the wall but the night passed uneventfully. But when dawn came without any sightings, many felt dread about the coming night, because they all knew that it could be their last as free men and women.

  CHAPTER 40

  It was a little after dawn when Alyssa finally left the wall. The Forsaken had not come in the night, just as Fenne had promised. She’d kept watch all night with the others, staring into the darkness, trying not to fall asleep at her post despite the biting cold.

  On the way to her room Alyssa expected several people to stop her and ask for advice. Perhaps it was because she was asleep on her feet, but she made it to her door without interruption.

  Sleep claimed her the moment her head hit the pillow, and it was a little after midday before she finally woke. When she went in search of breakfast she was surprised to find the corridors full of people. There was almost a festival atmosphere with people eating, drinking and laughing. A few had brought out instruments and music drifted around the winery, adding to the mood. Word of Fenne’s visit must have spread, and by now everyone knew what they faced tonight.

  Now, more than ever, was the time for her people to live. When the Forsaken had first appeared, her people had cowered and hidden in their rooms. Now they laughed, danced and sang in the face of the enemy and the prospect of dying. The sound of ringing steel echoed from above and when she emerged into the courtyard she wasn’t surprised to see long rows of people training with swords under the watchful eye of Zannah.

  Tammy had joined her in instructing them and was walking up and down the lines, correcting people with slight adjustments to their arms, legs and shoulders. A few days’ training would not make them skilled, but it was better than nothing.

  Balfruss sat off to one side, wrapped in a blanket, an empty bowl in front of him. Since returning from his fight with the Master the previous day, the Sorcerer had done little except eat and sleep.

  Alyssa sat down on a barrel beside him and together they watched the sword practice in companionable silence. Monella appeared a short time later with two bowls of something. Alyssa didn’t care what it was and neither did her stomach which just rumbled with hunger. Monella gave her a bowl and after a quick glance at Balfruss gave him the second. He tucked in with vigour and was half done with his porridge before Alyssa had eaten her first mouthful.

  “It’s quite the party,” said Balfruss, gesturing with his spoon. A trio with two fiddles and a drum emerged from inside the main building and behind them came a line of people. Each was carrying a bowl of food, which they began passing out to everyone in the courtyard. Practice stopped for a while as people moved to sit around the edges while the musicians played.

  A group of six women, in pristine white dresses edged in silver, started to dance in the middle of the courtyard. They whirled and spun, leaping from foot to foot like prancing bucks. Watching them twirl about so quickly made Alyssa feel dizzy. It was an old folk dance she’d not seen performed in a very long time. Six men in matching green and gold outfits waited at the side and when the women formed a line they ran forward. Then the spinning began anew, as the men lifted each other into the air, one at a time and then in pairs. Soon they joined hands with the women and began to spin faster and faster as the tempo increased. People were clapping along and whistling as the crowd swelled. The music built to a crescendo and with one final explosive movement all six women were lifted into the air at the same time.

  The applause was immediate and spontaneous. The dancers took a bow but were not done yet. The musicians started to play a slower tune and a few people were pulled up to join the dancers in the courtyard. If they didn’t know the steps they were quickly shown until two lines had formed down the middle. Everyone was clapping along and laughing in good humour, even at their own fumbles and missteps.

  Zannah came around to Alyssa’s side of the courtyard but instead of talking she went up the stairs to the wall. The few defenders up there were watching the dancers and clapping along in time to the music. Zannah turned her back on the dancers and kept watch on the street by herself. Alyssa joined her and together they watched the city while listening to the music behind them. There was no sign of Roake anywhere, for which Alyssa was grateful. She knew Zannah wouldn’t ask until she brought up the subject first. They would have to talk about it soon, but not just yet.

  “I’ll give you one more guess,” said Alyssa. “Then I’ll tell you.”

  Now more than ever Alyssa wanted Zannah to know who she’d been before the war. She knew a little about her friend, about what she’d done and why, but not who she used to be. Zannah thought about the past a great deal, and was weighed down by her failures, but there must have been a time before the war when she was happy and she smiled.

  Zannah pondered the question and took her time because it was her last guess. “Were you a patron?” she asked finally. The question caught Alyssa by surprise.

  “Why do you say that?”

  Zannah shrugged. “All along you’ve said you worked with many different artists. It seemed the logical choice.”

  “It’s a good guess.”

  “But it’s not right.”

  “No.” Alyssa touched her on the arm and Zannah turned to face her. “I was a muse.”

  “A muse?”

  She was staring at Zannah but Alyssa’s mind drifted back into the past. It seemed so long ago at times. “This city was full of so many creative people. Do you know what that’s like?” Zannah shook her head but she barely saw her. “It was a place of miraculous accidents. They would happen every day. Sometimes three musicians would meet, sit down together and begin to play. The music they’d create in that moment would be unlike anything you’d ever heard before. Music so beautiful it made you weep. And the next day one of the musicians would move on and that music would not exist any more. Do you understand?”

  Zannah shook her head in puzzlement. “What did you do?”

  “The air was charged with a form of energy from so many creative people living together. Competition was fierce and sometimes an artist stumbled. They were tired, or inspiration left them at a critical moment. They hired me to help them find their rhythm again.”

  Zannah pondered this for a while before asking, “Did you give them your ideas?”

  Alyssa smiled. “I know it’s difficult to believe, but once I used to be beautiful. I had long hair down to my waist and a figure that women envied and men desired. Sometimes I posed for artists and that gave them the spa
rk. Other times I merely sat in the room with a writer or poet and they would begin to write with intense fury. They paid me for my time.”

  “How did you do it?”

  It was something Alyssa had pondered for a long time over the years. At first she’d not questioned her good fortune. It seemed foolish to try and unravel the reason when it could stop at any moment. But after a while, when artists and sculptors had continued to be inspired by her presence, she’d begun to explore her ability.

  “The ideas are theirs. They’re just stuck. I believe that inspiration comes through a small door in the mind. All I did was open the door and the ideas flowed.”

  Zannah’s silence was long and contemplative. After spending so much time together Alyssa had become adept at interpreting the meaning of her different silences.

  “They paid you well for this?”

  “I was one of the richest women in the city. I wasn’t a noble or a patron, but I lived like one of them.” The thing Alyssa really missed from those days was her bath. It had been a glorious tiled monstrosity large enough for eight people. “I made them the best version of themselves.”

  “And this ability never left you?” asked Zannah.

  “No.”

  Zannah’s eyebrows shot upwards as realisation dawned on her. “Is it a form of magic?”

  “I think they call it a Talent,” she said, gesturing at Balfruss. “But mine is so slight, even he doesn’t notice when I’m doing it.”

  “This Talent, did you ever—”

  “No, never on you. I swear.” Alyssa was adamant and Zannah accepted her at her word.

  “But your magic is not why they chose you to lead. That is just you.” Once again Zannah was proving to be more astute than she realised.

  “The last time I used it was when I went onto the lake. I couldn’t fish by myself so I encouraged a man named Crinn to help. Deep down he was a good man, but his fear of Fenne, and of whatever is in the water, stopped him from helping me.” Alyssa regretted manipulating him. If the impulse to help her had not already been there, then it wouldn’t have worked on him. Even so, she wished she’d hadn’t done it. Crinn had nearly died on the water because of her. He’d fled as soon as they made it to dry land and had not been seen since. She suspected he was dead by now or had been taken.

  “I would never have guessed. I’m glad I knew before the end.”

  “Why are you so certain this is the end?” asked Alyssa.

  Zannah swept her hand across the horizon from left to right. All was desolation, dust and ruin. Nothing lived. Nothing grew. Nothing breathed. There was only cold, unfeeling stone and a bloody past, littered with corpses.

  “I will not be leaving this place. There is no tomorrow for me, but perhaps some of the others will escape.” Zannah sounded certain of her fate, yet Alyssa smiled at her friend.

  “Have faith,” said Alyssa.

  “After all you’ve seen, how can you still believe?”

  “After everything you’ve seen, how can you not?”

  Alyssa knew her words puzzled Zannah, but she couldn’t help it. She didn’t know what would happen tomorrow. She didn’t know who would live and who would be taken by the Forsaken, but her instincts told her this was not the end. Not the end of her people. They would go from this place in some way. They were filled with purpose like never before and nothing would stop them.

  Tammy sat down beside Balfruss at the edge of the courtyard, watching as the dancers paused to take a much needed break. He looked a little better than yesterday, not quite as frail, but still seemed remarkably pale and weak.

  “I’m not dying,” he said without looking around.

  “Can’t you use your magic to heal yourself?”

  “I’m just exhausted. Once I rest up I’ll be fine.” Despite not knowing him for very long Tammy heard the lie. He’d avoided the question about his magic, which probably meant he’d tried to use it and it hadn’t worked, perhaps because he was too weak.

  “Did you stop him?”

  Balfruss’s smile was grim. “Yes. Kaine is dead.”

  “You don’t seem very happy about it?” she pointed out.

  “There was something peculiar about the fight. It was almost too easy.”

  Tammy raised an eyebrow and gestured at him, huddled in a blanket, exhausted and haggard. “This was easy?”

  Balfruss shrugged. “Even after a fight like that, I shouldn’t be this drained. I’m trying to recover my strength, but it’s taking longer than usual. It’s like pouring water into a bucket with a hole in the bottom. I think it’s this city. When I drew power from the Source, a piece of the darkness seeped inside.”

  After what she’d experienced, Tammy could believe that. Her self-control wasn’t back to normal yet and every now and then she experienced impulses that she fought to repress. Her fingers would clench into fists, or a growl would start somewhere deep in her throat, and she had to take a few seconds to calm down.

  “The sooner we leave this place, the better.”

  “I agree,” said Balfruss. “I think my strength will return once we put this city behind us. I’m certain of it.”

  “Now all we have to do is survive the night. It’s almost too easy.”

  Balfruss grinned. “I’ll say a prayer to Elwei for you.”

  “I don’t believe in the gods, but given what we’re facing, I don’t see that it could hurt.”

  “You really do remind me of my friend Vann.”

  “I’m honoured,” said Tammy, rolling her eyes.

  The smile drained from Balfruss’s face and he became unusually still. He barely seemed to breathe and his dark eyes bored into hers. “He’s the most grounded and capable man I know. He’s strong, determined, stubborn as a mule, and a canny fighter. He’s also one of a handful of people that I trust with my life.” A second later Tammy realised he wasn’t just talking about Vann.

  “Oh,” was all she could think to say.

  “Can I offer you some advice?” he asked, and she gestured for him to continue. “I think you should enjoy the moment. I would be dancing with the others, but I don’t have the strength. Tonight, the Forsaken will come, but until then you should live.”

  It was good advice. Everyone else was treating it as if it were their last day and so far all she’d done was train others to fight. A number of ideas ran through her head, together with several strong urges, but there was only one she wanted to pursue.

  Leaving Balfruss to watch the dancers she went inside and down the stairs to her room. With stiff fingers she set her weapons aside, unbuckled her armour and took off her padded shirt. Her hands shook but she willed them to stop and the tremors quickly subsided. Even so, it didn’t stop her stomach from churning.

  In the lowest level she found several groups of people gathered around the wine racks. They were tapping barrels and filling up empty bottles with rich red wine. Someone offered her a couple of bottles, which she accepted and then went in search of company to share it with.

  Tammy knocked on the door and went in immediately. She wasn’t sure why she didn’t wait for a response. Perhaps she’d been hoping to catch him doing something unpleasant, giving her an excuse to turn around.

  Kovac was sat on the floor of his small cell-like room in a shirt and trousers. His ragged furs and armour were hung up on a peg on the wall. The rest of the room was tidy and organised, giving her more clues about his past before he became a mercenary. On the floor in front of him lay his sword, dagger and an oily rag. He held a second dagger in one hand and a whetstone in the other.

  “Am I disturbing you?” It was a stupid thing to say but he just shook his head. “I thought you might fancy a drink. Everyone else is enjoying themselves.”

  “Sounds good to me,” he said, putting his weapons aside and creating some space for her to sit down. They drank in silence for a while and Tammy tried to appreciate the taste of the wine. She knew it was expensive but wine had never been her thing. It was incredibly smooth though and
her head was feeling a little fuzzy.

  “I also came to apologise.”

  “What for?” asked Kovac.

  “I tried to kill you and the others, right before we found the Forsaken under the church.”

  “You weren’t yourself,” he said. Tammy wasn’t used to apologising and Kovac wasn’t making it easy.

  “I also made assumptions about you. I said that you came here for the treasure.”

  Kovac grunted. “You were right. I did.” Tammy sensed there was a lot more to his story that he wasn’t telling her.

  “Before that, you helped at the temple and spoke up for me against Fenne.”

  “He gave his word, then tried to wriggle out of a deal. It wasn’t right.”

  “I’m trying to thank you. Just shut up and take the compliment,” she snapped.

  Kovac blinked a couple of times before answering. “You’re welcome.”

  They drank some more in silence until she’d calmed down. “I want to ask you for a favour.”

  “Name it,” he said.

  “If the Forsaken get over the wall, I want you to make sure the children aren’t taken.”

  It was a difficult thing to ask of him, but it needed to be done. In this city they had all come to realise there were things worse than dying. She needed someone she could rely on. Someone who would follow through and not buckle under pressure at the critical moment. They drank some more in companionable silence while he thought it over.

  “What makes you think I won’t run at the first sign of trouble to save my own skin?”

  “You put yourself at risk for me when you had no reason to. You’re a man of honour.”

  Kovac’s laugh was bitter. “Not any more.”

  “Well, you’re a man of your word at least.”

  “I am that.”

  “Who were you, Kovac? Before becoming a mercenary?” It was probably something no mercenary liked to talk about, but she had to ask.

  “You don’t think I’ve always been one?”

  “I’m a Guardian, remember? Most mercenaries are driven by greed or bloodlust, but neither drives you.”