Markan Sword

  "Armory," explained Marlen. "The gatehouse is immediately above us. The watch assembles here to collect weapons before going on duty. Up there, the dormitory lies to your right and the office to your left as you look at the main entrance."

  Balnus looked over his shoulder. "Quick look, Nep."

  "Se bata." The sylph bounded away, taking the stone steps two and three at a time. The spiral stair managed one semicircle before it opened out into the hallway. As Marlen had predicted, nobody stood guard there, but Neptarik remained wary.

  Two doors stood either side of the main entrance. Time to test Marlen's word.

  Though outside the scope of his orders, Neptarik tried the door handle leading to – he hoped – the office. It opened silently to a gloomy room, the only light leaking around poorly covered crystals. The room was indeed the office and thankfully deserted. So Marlen had not lied. So far, at least.

  The sylph slipped around the desk and quickly found the key press, disguised as a cupboard. He scanned the keys quickly, helping himself to one labeled "armory" and, as a plan occurred to him, a second marked "guard room". With luck...

  With luck indeed. The second key slid silently into the lock of the door opposite and turned with a click that seemed loud to the sylph, but caused no reaction from within. Neptarik hoped the guards were all inside; locking the door had probably saved their lives.

  He took the steps down two at a time and gave a low whistle for human ears.

  "You took your time," grumbled Balnus.

  "I locked the guards in their dormitory," replied the sylph, who knew how quickly palace guards could react.

  Ozbon grunted a laugh. "Good thinking."

  "Deserted up there," continued the scout. "The door is ours."

  Balnus and Reshiad led, with Neptarik scampering almost on their heels. Ozbon and Reshiad turned their attention to the door, unbarring and unbolting it. The rest of the men fanned out, securing the hall.

  Muffled shouts caught their attention and the men started to grin as guards rattled the door they could no longer get through. Someone began to kick it, the sound echoing along the hallway.

  "Get that front door open!" hissed Balnus.

  The door to the square beyond the palace finally swung open and rebels began to pile in through it. One of the first in, Albansen's hazel eyes glittered at Reshiad, his teeth bared in a silent snarl.

  "Let's get this done," he said. He gave Marlen a quick glance and nod. "We've secured the city gates and some of the lads are entertaining the night patrolmen. Even more good news for you: we have General Teven in our custody."

  "I'm done," said Marlen. He turned to Reshiad. "Best of luck to you."

  Ozbon grunted and watched a moment, as Marlen strolled out from the palace. "We shouldn't have let him go," he said.

  "The throne room," said Reshiad. "We gave him our word. And he played us true."

  Albansen called for and got hush.

  "Men!" Reshiad barely raised his voice. "Capture as many as you can, and bring them all to the throne room. Defend yourselves where necessary, but no needless killings. Those who deserve it, will receive the Prefect's justice."

  Silently, the men began to move through out from the hallway, filling the large courtyard that stood before the palace's main building.

  Reshiad looked at his companions and then at the large door across the courtyard. "Let's get into the throne room," he said.

  This time, Neptarik led the way.

  ***

  Albansen's men spread through the palace quickly, waking and rounding up all those they could find. More gathered outside the dormitory beside the entrance hall, ready to face the guard when their door was finally unlocked.

  Neptarik and his companions pushed the door from the courtyard open, the sylph quickly assessing what he saw. Light crystals set in sconces showed the way to a row of gleaming marble steps and a heavy bronze door. Offices stood silent and empty on both sides of the hall.

  "Here!" he cried, bounding up the marble steps.

  Tektu suddenly brushed her way past everyone. "Stop!" she screamed, eyes wild in fright, her earpoints laid right back against her skull.

  About to push the bronze door open, Neptarik paused.

  "Can you sense it?" panted Tektu, joining him.

  Neptarik paused, a vague sense of unease brushing against him. "Thought it was excitement," he muttered.

  "What's wrong?" demanded Balnus and Reshiad, together.

  "Sorcery," said Neptarik.

  "You're sure?" asked Reshiad, impatience thickening his tone.

  "Very sure," snapped Tektu. "He is a sylph and they are never wrong about these things."

  "You're a sylph too," murmured Reshiad.

  "How did you sense it before me?" whispered Neptarik.

  "Because it is the Charm," replied Tektu. "Or sorcery, if you prefer."

  "If it's some sort of spell, do you know what it'll do?" asked Balnus.

  Tektu shook her head. "Probably not nice."

  Neptarik grunted in agreement. "A trap."

  Albansen's men had already begun to push prisoners towards the throne room, herding them together in the courtyard first. Runners came from the city gates, informing them that these now stood open and were under the rebels' control.

  "Is anyone in the palace Gifted?" asked Balnus. "A healer, someone like that?"

  Blank looks met his question.

  "Looks like there isn't." Ozbon grimaced.

  "There is a way," said Tektu, slowly.

  "How?" demanded Balnus.

  "I could trigger it," replied Tektu.

  "Sacrifice yourself?" Balnus blinked at her.

  Tektu sighed. "It would not kill me, only be very painful," she explained, before nodding towards Neptarik. "It might kill him though, because of our bond."

  Neptarik blinked and Balnus noted the hint of fear in his scout's eyes, an emotion he very rarely showed. "What bond?" he asked.

  Anguish crossed Tektu's face. "He killed my former owner," she said. "That is how it works with me. More I cannot say."

  The men looked at Neptarik with considerably greater respect.

  "You've killed a man?" asked Ozbon.

  "I did not mean to," said Neptarik, defensively.

  Ozbon's flecked green eyes shone with appreciation. "You're some sylph, lad."

  You did not mean to, reflected Tektu. And you killed him indirectly. Sorcery bounced right back at him, deflected from a shield. That was how she ended up with a sylph as her owner. She had not even been won in a fair fight!

  "We'll try and find someone Gifted," said Balnus.

  Tektu sniffed. "If it is going to kill him, the curse will not let me trigger the trap," she said, hoping she spoke a lie. "My curse forbids me from harming my bondholder, no matter what. Though it will be painful for him, if it is painful for me. Everybody move back, just in case it goes with a bang."

  Everybody except Balnus and Neptarik moved quickly away. Tektu turned to face the doors.

  "We'll find someone Gif – Tektu, no!"

  With luck, this will kill him, even if it is painful for me. With luck, I will become my own creature again. Free.

  Lifting her hand, the strange infertile ignored Balnus. And pushed the bronze door open.

  ***

  Chapter 30

  Inside Eldova City

  After several meetings, the two groups of Eldovans eventually agreed to merge into one large group of three thousand before reaching the plain below. Lowst sent riders and a pair of Eldovan sylph scouts ahead, warning the city of their approach. As Lowst said, having come so far it would be a shame to be slaughtered in sight of home because of a misunderstanding.

  As a result of the merge, Shyamon returned to duties with his fellow Markan scouts, and tension appeared to ebb away as normality settled on the single army.

  Belaika knew better.

  Lowst's men eyed Mirrin's men with suspicion and wariness. They had easily absorbed the small group captured w
ith Kelanus, but Mirrin's men, outlandsmen every one, now outnumbered the men from Eldova. They looked at their supposed fellow Eldovans as they would at very annoyed vipers after falling into their pit.

  Belaika remembered Branad's army merging with his owner's, immediately after the battle on Candin Plain. Now felt very like then, when the scouts worried open hostilities might break out in their own camp.

  If anything, that seemed more likely today.

  All five Markan sylph scouts remained wary of the Eldovans and not just because they feared fighting. Short of torture or mutilation, Lowst seemed keen to get his hands on the secret of their whistles, so the sylphs decided on their own rules.

  They had already agreed that all whistling except pingers must happen out of any other sylph's hearing. They now decided that even the shortest positioning whistles must now fall silent.

  "And another thing," said Belaika, who had most experience of underhanded Eldovan methods, "never accept choca from any of them. Especially that Raynor."

  Four pairs of silver-gray eyes regarded him with varying degrees of shock.

  "Not even from Kelanus?" asked Samel, the most horrified.

  "Well, obviously it is all right from our own people," said Belaika.

  "But he has got no choca," Samel pointed out.

  Belaika sighed. "They will try anything to get the whistles out of us," he said. "Anything. Just do not accept any treats off them. Off any of them. Them means Eldovans, Samel. Kelanus and Tahena, Hanmer and Felis are us, not them."

  "Well..."

  All conversation ceased and heads turned.

  "What do you want, Unnis?" asked Shyamon.

  The infertile sylph stepped shyly forward. "Just to say that we will move soon."

  "We already know," said Shyamon.

  Belaika gave the infertile a slow blink. "Unnis-y-Raynor?"

  The Eldovan sylph clutched at the nametag on her collar.

  "Thought so." The male scout gave her a mirthless smile and his earpoints slanted forward in accusation. "Hoping to learn more about our whistles?"

  Unnis seemed to shrink into herself, blushed a brighter blue and her earpoints wilted, as if she had been caught misbehaving.

  "Go away, Unnis-y-Raynor," continued Belaika. "Leave us alone."

  Unnis blinked. "But you are all prisoners now!" she protested. "Enya says that when we reach the city, you –" She clapped a hand over her mouth.

  Belaika shook his head. "I have heard threats like these before," he said, more for his companions' benefit than to Unnis. "We will tell you nothing. Now go away, acsin."

  The scouts stayed silent as they watched the offended infertile leave.

  "Wonder what she might have said if you let her speak." Fhionnen was not the only scout to look worried.

  "Probably nothing for us to worry about," said Belaika.

  "But we will be Hingast's prisoners," protested Fhionnen.

  "Hingast," countered Belaika, "is dead."

  ***

  Surrounded by Eldovans, the Markans rode together.

  Kelanus and Tahena rode side by side, watching everything in silence, while Hanmer and Felis rode before and behind, so the small group formed a neat diamond. The Markan sylphs all ran ahead of the army, Lowst refusing to allow any to hang back, though he did not otherwise restrict them.

  Mirrin remained with his men, but Janost rode alongside Lowst, his precise status unclear. Eldova's Marshal had been tainted with accusations of cowardice and desertion. Kelanus knew those charges were unfair; Janost had only surrendered when it became obvious that the battle was lost and before he lost too many men unnecessarily. Being able to make that decision required its own courage.

  They rode through farmland, keeping to a rutted road, with patches of ancient paving here and there. Ahead, Eldova City grew larger in their eyes.

  "A pretty enough place," said Tahena. "As large cities go."

  "I didn't know you'd been here before," grunted Kelanus.

  Tahena smiled. "I've visited most of the great cities at one time or another," she replied. "My tutor, Ta Dutt, insisted I learned about the other cultures on the continent."

  "How long did you spend here?"

  "About an hour."

  "Not too big on culture then," laughed Kelanus. "I don't suppose you can remember your way around?"

  "You're planning to escape?"

  "No." Kelanus grimaced. "What happens when a shapeshifter dies, does he return to his natural appearance?"

  Tahena blinked. "Yes. Or so I was taught. Before Ranallic, I never met a shapeshifter, let alone see one die."

  "We've got to see this through to its conclusion," continued Kelanus and lowered his voice. "Ranallic must die."

  "Or Ellas, or whatever his name really is." Tahena shrugged.

  "I only really know him as Ranallic."

  "Why are you doing this?" pressed Tahena. "And it's got nothing to do with helping these people. They'll kill you if you aren't careful."

  "When the Eldovans see they've been ruled by an imposter, we'll be better treated," said Kelanus.

  "Hopefully."

  "It will happen quickly." Kelanus smiled. "Once Ranallic learns I'm in his city, he won't be able to resist. He'll either come to us, or summon his prisoners to the palace. Pretty much immediately. He can't wait to see me dead."

  "We'd best hope his wish is not granted," replied Tahena, fighting an urge to grind her teeth in frustration. "I don't like this plan of yours one bit. Too much to go wrong. There's gambling and there's gambling."

  "Neptarik's the one for gambling," grunted Kelanus.

  Tahena grimaced. Trust that boy to find a wife who also gambled. She had hoped to see Neptarik settled properly. But that sylph was no longer her problem and his owner seemed happy with things the way they were.

  "This is more than a considered risk," she said. "They won't let you in front of the man they believe is Hingast without a heavy guard. And there is no chance you'll be armed in his presence. You might even be chained. Anything can go wrong."

  "I know."

  "It won't help us if you end up dead." Tahena's dark eyes regarded him expressionlessly. She loved this man and could not stand the thought of losing him to a sword. Not when revenge appeared to be his only motive. "You say you're doing this for Eldova."

  "And so I am," he rumbled. "They deserve to have a proper Prefect."

  "You're doing it for yourself."

  He turned and grinned at her. "Primarily, yes," he admitted.

  Tahena turned her head. "What do you think, Tula?"

  The infertile sylph blinked and almost stumbled. "I think it is time we stopped for alovak," she replied.

  This time, Tahena did grind her teeth and failed to restrain the sigh that followed. No help from that quarter, then.

  Tula must have realized something Tahena had not, because Shashi tripped across to join them.

  "We will stop for a rest soon," Mirrin's sylph announced.

  Kelanus smiled down at the infertile. "And are you glad to be home, Shashi?"

  The sylph blinked and nodded towards Mirrin. "Where he stands is my home," she replied, before trotting away again.

  "Sweet," muttered Tahena. "A properly bonded sylph is a joy to behold."

  "So they say." Kelanus shook his head. "At this rate, we won't reach Eldova for another week."

  However, the rest stop proved very short, with no time to even heat water for alovak. Keen to reach Eldova, Lowst failed to hide his eagerness to transfer authority for his prisoners who, on paper at least, ranked higher than himself. Kelanus remembered him admitting to doubts concerning Hingast, but that did not mean he wanted to get himself actively involved.

  "Hope your feet aren't getting sore, Tula," said Kelanus cheerfully, as they moved on again.

  Tula glanced up at him. "Not yet," she replied. "I am used to marching."

  "But not on surfaced roads," replied Kelanus.

  Tula gave the rutted track a single disgusted look
. "We have not yet reached the surfaced part."

  "You can come up, if you like," offered Kelanus.

  The sylph considered his horse for a moment. "I will walk, donenya."

  "Suit yourself."

  Tahena laughed. "Not today, Kelanus," she said.

  Kelanus shrugged. "She's free to choose," he replied, peaceably.

  "Free?" Tula's earpoints sagged and her lips twitched as she looked at the ground. "I should not be free," she whispered.

  Kelanus and Tahena exchanged a look, but neither said a word.

  ***

  The road, now paved with white stone, climbed a range of small hills.

  Belaika felt the small bumps barely merited the description hill. The road did not even switch back, but climbed straight up, treating the gradient with contempt. True to their training, the Markan sylphs left the road and dropped to the ground before they reached the summit, just in case someone might be lurking on the far slope. They crawled over the highest point, so they did not stand out against the skyline.

  Belaika noticed their Eldovan rivals stayed on the road and made no attempt to hide their presence. Foolish, even allowing for their proximity to home. His attention turned back towards the city.

  "Beautiful," remarked Shyamon.

  Belaika nodded. Eldova's principal city appeared to float above a sea of heat haze, and shimmered palely like a mirage. His expression firmed.

  "So why did you come?" whispered Shyamon. "Really?"

  Belaika turned his head sharply. "You can be too perceptive for your own good," he said.

  Shyamon grinned and looked away again. "We all know you insisted on coming here. There must be a reason."

  "There is." Belaika closed his mouth.

  "We could probably reach it today," said Shyamon.

  "We could," corrected Belaika. "I am not sure about them. We will probably have to camp out one more night, then reach Eldova in the morning."

  "Are we going to be allowed to just walk in?" Shyamon wondered aloud.

  "Looks that way."

  Shyamon turned his head to regard the city. "Nothing is like I expected."

  Belaika tugged a long blade of grass free and nibbled at the end, pushing it between two teeth. "Nothing ever is," he replied, philosophically. "Get used to it."

  ***

  Belaika was proved right about camping out another night. Long before sunset, the combined Eldovan army halted and set up their tents along the road, taking care to damage no crops. Those tents spilled over onto grazing land, but men were detailed to chase away curious cattle wanting to know who had invaded their pasture.

  In a show of disobedience, the Markan sylph scouts waited, though they fully realized the army had halted. Unsurprisingly, Aiten and his constant companion, Vyren, were sent to bring them back.