Markan Sword

  "That's the problem," replied Fared. "He isn't. The rightful claimant would be Verdin Vintner. Whatever the Senate decides, Zenepha might be the only individual capable of keeping the peace in Marka."

  "Then he stays on the throne," replied Telisa.

  "And what will happen when he dies?" Fared's voice dropped to nothing more than a whisper. "He has no heirs."

  Telisa sniffed. "We should have stayed in Kelthane."

  Fared sat back and sipped at his alovak. "We might be forced to make a decision," he said. "We might have to get involved in politics. Discreetly, of course."

  "A dangerous path," said Telisa.

  Her husband nodded. "Very. But as I said, Zenepha cannot stay Emperor for ever. I very much fear that trouble lies ahead."

  ***

  Surrounded by people, the assassin ate alone. Infiltration had proved successful, but now the time had come for the next stage. Decide on the order of victims and begin to plan method and execution.

  A delightful word, execution. The assassin always anticipated this stage eagerly, for the power rush could not compare with anything else.

  Death always followed life. The assassin realized death was an occupational hazard, but had long since come to accept that. But others always seemed surprised when death came suddenly, unexpectedly.

  But holding that ultimate card, having the choice between who lived and who died... now that was power.

  Ignored by everybody else, the assassin delicately lifted a piece of meat on the fork. Chewing slowly, the assassin smiled and planned.

  ***

  Chapter 17

  March To Turivkan

  Thanks to the clouds, Neptarik had known hills lay ahead long before seeing them. Turivkan the Prefecture lay well inland, which for the most part meant clear skies at this time of year. Those clouds suggested either an early change in the weather, or a far more likely change in terrain.

  He and his small group marched into cloud before nightfall.

  Cloud and fog made life far more difficult for the scout, especially as Serifa could not guarantee keeping to the road. Despite what so many people seemed to believe, even sylphs had limitations. A homing pigeon might be able to stay in contact with the group in dense fog, but a lone sylph scout could not.

  Now, lying in his warm rabbit fur blanket, Neptarik felt smug that he kept the outside well oiled and that he'd pegged out the hood. Hills did not just bring fog.

  They also brought rain.

  While other men cursed and struggled to keep their kit dry – not easy in darkness when everything must be done by touch – Neptarik snuggled deeper into his blanket and relished the sound of refreshing raindrops bouncing off metal and canvas. In some cases, soaking into clothes and carelessly stored belongings.

  Curses grew as some men discovered they had bedded down in places where rainwater either gathered, or ran off the hill. Neptarik smiled, pleased that he had learned from all his experiences. He had checked the ground carefully before claiming his own sleeping spot, and ensured it showed no sign of water damage.

  Even before he first fell asleep, he had heard the gentle patter of light rain on his blanket, the reason he had pegged out the hood. Now he could relax, keeping warm and dry.

  Mya and Tektu had similar blankets – in fact, all three had been acquired by the infertile – but slept on different parts of the hill, as far apart as they could manage. Understandably, Mya and Tektu would never get along. He wished to have some way of getting rid of the unwelcome infertile; he loved Mya and hated to see the strain she suffered just because of what Tektu had done to her previous owner.

  Neptarik watched as darkness retreated before the coming day. Shutting his eyes for a few brief moments, the scout finally wriggled free from his blanket and rolled it up, ignoring the raindrops splatting against his painted skin,

  The paint would help keep him waterproof.

  He crossed the short distance to his owner and shook him by the shoulder.

  "Just getting light now, enya," he said, as Balnus grunted and turned over.

  Another seasoned campaigner, Balnus also had sense enough not to spread his bedding in a watercourse, and kept his own blankets well oiled. Balnus sat up, pulled his jerkin on over his head, wriggled free from his blanket and pulled on his boots, which had been kept warm and dry overnight in the blanket.

  Serifa loomed out of the mist. "Miserable in the rain," she muttered, "but saw nothing this watch. Looks like we got these hills to ourselves."

  "You can never be too careful," said Balnus. He eyed the rain and mist and grimaced as water dripped from his hair. "I suppose getting a fire going is too much to ask."

  "Cold breakfast and water," said Neptarik. "Want me to wake the rest?"

  Serifa nodded. "Time we were moving again," she said.

  ***

  A small, wet and bedraggled group came through the pass just before midday. Neptarik led, though he kept out of sight in the swirling mists, especially once the rain eased.

  Reshiad rode alongside Serifa, with the taciturn Erard riding on her other side. Balnus and Verdin followed, with Mya walking between their two horses, then the six peasants from the barely trained army on foot, soaked through and shivering.

  Tektu and a seventh peasant brought up the rear.

  "Wonder what Turivkan looks like," said the man, making conversation.

  Tektu, uninterested in cities, shrugged. "Probably stinks," she replied. "Most cities do."

  "Been to many cities?" asked the peasant.

  "Lots," replied Tektu. She increased her pace, bored of the conversation, and left the rearguard to mutter about rudeness.

  Seeing her approach, Mya dropped back, her head turned aside to avoid looking at Tektu.

  "Bored of being the rearguard?" asked Balnus.

  Tektu looked up him, her eyes unblinking until water droplets fell into them. She doubted if she could ever get used to belonging to someone who in turn belonged to someone else. "Something like that. He just wants to ask questions about what Turivkan looks like."

  "It's built from sandstone," said Verdin cheerfully, "so it'll be either red or pink."

  "I don't really care," said Tektu. "And the sandstone might be white."

  "And it stands on a fertile plain," added Balnus. "Towers, fortified barricades and rich farms cover it."

  Tektu turned her lip and strode ahead again, half running where the road meandered its way downhill, cutting corners as she ran. She halted abruptly as she suddenly left the cloud behind, coming to bright sunshine and unexpected warmth.

  Neptarik already stood there and he turned as Tektu joined him.

  "Not quite like coming to Marka," said the scout, "but almost as impressive."

  "No pyramid," said Tektu, her gaze flickering in all directions.

  The rest of the group caught them up and Serifa nodded to herself.

  The plain stretched in all directions and certainly looked lush, with fields several shades of dark green. Towers were dotted randomly around the plain and roads crisscrossed it. Serifa pointed to more boiling clouds to her left.

  "The main road to the west, and most of the Prefecture," she said, before pointing east. "Dzigain lies that way, past a couple more hill ranges."

  "Dzigain," murmured Verdin. "And the fabled Black Cloud Mountains at its eastern edge."

  Serifa laughed. "No fable," she said. "They really exist. Always winter there, even in the passes."

  "The mountains may by no fable," said Verdin quietly, "but the city hidden there certainly is."

  The merriment faded from Serifa's face. "Magiere," she said. "They say you must find the mountains that form an almost circular wall and the city sits atop them."

  "And are there such mountains?" asked Balnus.

  "Nobody has ever some back to say," said Serifa. "But legend says the air cannot be breathed there."

  "So impossible for a city to exist," said Verdin, "if people can't breathe the air."

  "There's a ci
ty down there though." Balnus pointed to where spires and buildings rose from the heat haze.

  "Pink," Verdin told Tektu. "Turivkan is pink."

  Tektu shrugged. "It can be blue and yellow for all I care," she replied.

  "Less squabbling," said Serifa. "We need to get down there and regroup. Then we must plan how to infiltrate the city."

  Balnus called to Neptarik, who stood slightly apart from the group with Mya. "Don't go exerting yourself," he instructed. "When we reach the plain, you'll have plenty of running about to do."

  The scout grimaced and his earpoints wilted before recovering almost immediately.

  "Se bata," he replied.

  ***

  They found the meeting point at the very edge of the arable land nearest the hills. An old farmhouse and attached barn stood alone about half a mila from the road. Serifa turned towards it and the rest followed. At a nod from Balnus, Neptarik streaked ahead, quickly out of sight as he blended into the background.

  "No trust at all?" Reshiad stared at Balnus.

  "None at all," said Verdin. "Everybody gets to live longer this way."

  "These are our friends," protested Reshiad. "They want to see Dervra gone."

  "Want to see Dervra gone, yes," retorted Verdin. "But that does not necessarily mean that they are our friends."

  Reshiad started as Neptarik returned, unnoticed until he spoke. "Two men inside and two boys in the stable, enya," he told Balnus. "And a family."

  As they drew nearer, two men left the building and stood outside, waiting.

  "Yaan!" Serifa dismounted and hugged the taller man. "I've missed you."

  Yaan's hazel eyes looked troubled, even as he smiled at the girl. "And we've missed you," he replied.

  "Friends of Turivkan," continued Serifa, as the seven peasants split around the farmhouse and began to look as if they were working the land. "Balnus, Verdin..."

  Yaan shook hands with the men as they were named.

  "Mya, Tektu... and the painted one is Neptarik."

  Yaan smiled at the sylphs.

  "And this is, ah, Deshad." Serifa indicated Reshiad, stood shyly to one side.

  Yaan and his companion had already been eyeing Deshad carefully.

  "So it's true," whispered Yaan. "One of you lives."

  Reshiad smiled and shook hands with both men. "My name is Deshad. Nothing else."

  "Of course." Yaan drew the words out, as if playing along with something he recognized as a charade. "Shall we go inside?"

  The farmhouse had few furnishings. The main room looked like any other farm, with memorabilia and a few wooden chairs and cushions strewn about. A handful of people formed a family, complete with a couple of children and an infertile sylph. The latter eyed the newcomers warily, earpoints slightly wilted.

  Balnus nodded to himself.

  "Through here," said Yaan, leading them into the barn.

  It doubled as a stable and boys already brought the horses round. One corner housed the pigeons and Serifa immediately crossed to them.

  "I don't recognize any of these," she complained.

  "They got sick and died," explained Yaan. "We had to get some new ones."

  "From the same man?" asked Serifa.

  Yaan smiled and nodded. "From Roddard, yes."

  Serifa looked at Yaan. "I'm glad to hear it," she said. "How are things in the city?"

  "Terrible," replied Yaan. "They are trying harder and harder to infiltrate our organization. And it's impossible to say whether they have succeeded or not. They mutilate anybody they suspect of involvement. The touch healers have been kept busy for weeks." He held up his right hand. "Watch out for a man named Marlen, he is stepping up security in the city."

  Serifa went very still. "How can we avoid notice?"

  Yaan shrugged. "I recommend you stay outside the city. Send your sylphs in for a look. Pallun can still be contacted."

  "Will Neptarik oblige, Balnus?" asked Serifa.

  "I'll dangle a piece of choca in front of him, that usually guarantees his cooperation," replied Balnus, to the others' laughter.

  "All right," continued Serifa. "Where are we quartered?"

  Yaan pointed to the hayloft. "For tonight," he replied. "Tomorrow we'll move you to one of the abandoned towers." He crossed to the dovecote. "I'll get a message off to Pallun, warn him that Neptarik is coming in to see him."

  Balnus and Verdin exchanged a look.

  "Better if you don't," said Verdin.

  Yaan's eyes widened. "How else will he know your sylph is coming?"

  "Pigeons can be caught," said Balnus. "Let's keep it quiet."

  Yaan smiled and inclined his head. "As you wish."

  Balnus did not climb into the hayloft. "I'm going to have a word with my sylphs," he said.

  Yaan gave him a questioning look.

  "They've been growing fractious. A matter of discipline," said Balnus, and Yaan nodded in understanding.

  ***

  Only Tektu looked completely unconcerned as the three sylphs walked away from the farmhouse with their owner. Neptarik had put on his brave face, but his earpoints were wilted the same as Mya's.

  "What have we done, enya?" Neptarik could not keep worry out of his voice.

  Balnus gestured ahead. "Just keep walking until we're out of sight of the farm. Some things must be kept private."

  Neptarik and Mya exchanged a confused look. Only Tektu walked on as if nothing was wrong. She glanced at Neptarik with a half smile and shrugged her shoulders.

  Eventually, Balnus looked over his shoulder and checked the land round about, finally satisfied they were alone.

  "Right," he said, "I think we're private now."

  "If we have angered, we are truly sorry," said Mya."

  "What?" Balnus smiled. "You've not angered me."

  "Then what is this matter of discipline?" spluttered Neptarik.

  "Dense." Tektu muttered under her breath and shook her head. "So very dense."

  "Just an excuse to get away from our so-called friends," said Balnus. "We must speak privately."

  Tektu looked at the other two sylphs and sighed. "Maybe you should discipline them," she said. "Might improve their perceptiveness."

  "I need no advice from you, Tektu," said Balnus.

  The infertile subsided.

  "When we return to the farm, I want Mya to keep an eye on Yaan," said Balnus.

  Neptarik half sat up.

  "The man seems very eager to send you into Turivkan, which wouldn't bother me, except that he wants to send pigeons too." Balnus shook his head. "Got no idea why, but the man puts my hackles up."

  "What must I do?" asked Mya.

  "Nothing dangerous," replied Balnus. "Just keep working near him until we leave again. Neptarik, lose your paint before going into the city."

  "Of course." The scout looked surprised that there might be any suggestion he should keep his paint on.

  "And one more thing. Tektu, I want you to go to Turivkan ahead of Neptarik. In fact, I'd like you to leave now."

  "No problem, Mister Balnus," replied Tektu. She gave Neptarik a triumphant look. "See how obedient I am?"

  "Only when you want to be," retorted Neptarik.

  Tektu shrugged. "Right now?" she asked.

  "Listen in to Yaan's instructions to Neptarik and get there one step ahead. Don't introduce yourself, just find out if any of these men in Turivkan can be trusted. I'll send Neptarik a day after you."

  "I can do that," said Tektu. She turned to Neptarik. "Will you release me from my promises?"

  The scout raised a finger. "No killings," he said. "No release from that. I have never made you promise not to defend yourself when attacked."

  Tektu sniffed. "And if I need information?"

  "I do not want to know how you get it," said Neptarik.

  "We'll return in a few more minutes," said Balnus. "When we do, remember to look like you've had the scolding of your lives."

  ***

  Mya and Tektu quickly prepare
d the ash and sap paste used to strip off the scouts' paint when they returned from the field, while Neptarik was shown to a small room, private from the rest of the farmhouse.

  The infertile sylph belonging to the family looked like she wanted to help, but the moment she saw Tektu, her earpoints tucked away and she scuttled back into the main farmhouse.

  Yaan followed them into the room and shut the heavy oak door.

  For once, Tektu and Mya just ignored each other, instead of walking apart.

  Unashamed, Neptarik peeled off his scouting breeches and lay face down on the stone-flagged floor.

  Mya rubbed the paste on every part of her husband's exposed skin, starting with the head and working her way down, while Tektu started at his feet and worked her way up.

  Yaan ignored Neptarik's nakedness and gave his instructions. "When you get to Turivkan, you will find Pallun's small workshop opposite the disused palace temple. It has a window either side of the door, the wood and shutters painted blue."

  "And the stonework?" asked Neptarik.

  "The place is built from the same sandstone as the rest of the city," replied Yaan. "I'm afraid there is little alternative, except perhaps for mud bricks."

  Mya and Tektu soaked rags in the buckets of water and began to rinse the paste off Neptarik. Bit by bit, he turned from a camouflaged scout into a normal blue-skinned sylph.

  "You need to tell Pallun that Turivkan's rightful Prefect is outside the city and has been quartered in the Red Ivy Tower." Yaan smiled. "Men are waiting for this news all over the city."

  "How will I recognize Pallun?" asked Neptarik. At Mya's urging, he obediently turned over.

  Embarrassed at this new display, Yaan kept his gaze fixed firmly on Neptarik's face. "Tall, with large hands and well muscled. Ruddy face, cheerful expression, light brown hair and eyes so dark that they are nearly black."

  Neptarik nodded. "How do I leave the city again? Enslaved sylphs are not usually allowed to leave cities unless accompanied."

  "Pallun will give you a pass," replied Yaan.

  "How do I introduce myself?" persisted the scout.

  "I was going to send a pigeon, but your owner stopped that." Yaan sniffed. "Serifa is writing a letter of introduction you will take."

  Yaan watched as more and more of the scout turned blue. "When will you leave?"

  "Once I have learned where enya is quartered," replied Neptarik. "We scouts are not Gifted; I need to know where to report before leaving."

  "If there's any doubt, you could return here," offered Yaan. His hazel eyes glittered. "Eylrin rarely has any sylph company."

  Neptarik supposed Eylrin must be the infertile. He nodded. "But I prefer to return to my owner," he said. He sat up. "Which of you two has got my clean breeches?"