A Skillful Warrior (SoulNecklace Stories Book 2) (21 page)

‘
Hide
!’ shouted the beads, as if all the Guardians had woken at once.

I turned and ran back, away from the coaches, towards the mountains.

The rear coach swayed to a halt. Its doors opened. Out leapt black-clad figures. I clutched my shears as a drowning man clutches a chip of wood.

The magicians stood, arms out. I could feel their awareness, their hostility and power. There was no fire, no oil, to help me work my magic here. What should I do? The road seemed to lift up, tip sideways. I felt like a grain of sand, stumbling down the slope of a giant dune. I tried to run, but the roadway was relentless; it tipped and rocked.

Better to stand and fight, whispered Phileas, strumming martial chords.

––––––––

‘Awake! Awake!

Against your foe!

Blow your pipe and bid them go!

For they have no claim upon your land,

They may not walk upon this strand

And you must stand, and shout and say,

Go you hence

Or rue the day!’

––––––––

F
ine-sounding words, I thought, but how much use are they when I have six magicians reaching for me?

The other two carriages stopped too. Any minute now, their doors would open. Far to the west, beyond the mountains, dark clouds flashed and the sky growled an answer. A thunderstorm was building. The wind grew stronger and smelt of rain.

The magicians moved their hands as one, and I tripped and nearly fell. They were toying with me.

‘What can I do?’ I called to the beads.

‘Your tools,’ whispered Robert. ‘A craftsman never forgets his tools.’

‘Use what you have,’ said Suzanna.

‘Light,’ breathed Adianna. ‘Remember the light.’

All I had was the shears. What use were they? The edges of the blades caught the sunlight, sparking it. Light. I held the shears to the sky so they reflected the sun, the silver-edged clouds.

The shears sparked and flared; the world grew bright. Lightning cracked, the mountains blazed. Then thunder rolled, loud and long, crashing against the rocks, until all the world seemed an aching roar. And down came the wind. My hair whipped into my eyes. I could barely see. But I held my shears high and I caught the lightning in their silver blades.

I arced it towards the magicians. The bolt of light blazed. With a shout they leapt backwards. The lightning snapped again. Fizzing, crackling, it struck the magic workers across their faces. They screamed again and then they burnt. For who can withstand the lightning?

The rain began, great torrents of water that turned the roadway slick. My hair was plastered to my head; the water ran into my eyes so they stung.

The doors of the remaining coaches opened. Like flies leaving a corpse the magicians clambered out onto the roadway. Twelve of them! With their hoods up, I could not see their faces but I could feel their enmity.

I reached towards the beads, pulled their personalities tight into me. Felt myself becoming one with the other Guardians. No longer
them
, but
us
. We dragged the fury of the wind and the lightning’s force towards us. Shaped it like a multi-pronged star just as Rinpoche had done so long ago.
The energy of living things is a most potent weapon
. I hurled it, spinning, at the magic workers. It hissed as it flew.

The cart was just behind me now. It was a vaguely heartening sight; somewhere, people were living normal lives with hearth and family and no magic workers.

The magicians seemed to grow, blotting out the clouds. My heart seemed to freeze. I breathed in, out; calm, Dana, calm. Then, for a brief, joyous moment, I seemed to be flying, far above the world. In the distance I heard wind hushing through the rocks, the calls of a far-away eagle. A sound of freedom.

The road seemed to hiss like a snake. Lifted itself from the earth and flicked towards me. The little cart, traveling towards the town, was tossed from its back, its wheel split and broken. Riding the dark road, the magicians poured hatred at me. I was trapped in a web and my wings, if wings they were, snapped shut. I fell down, down and heard my enemy laughing as I fell. I landed at their feet, hard. Struggled for breath.

One magic worker said something to another and laughed. He kicked me. Another joined him, and another. Pain, raw and red.

‘Aargh.’ I curled into a ball, trying to curve away from boots that slammed into me, again and again. Couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. Then someone kicked me in the head, and for a moment, the world seemed to turn black. From far away I heard a sound like thunder, or waves breaking on an endless shore.

Or was it shouting? Was that my name being called?

‘Dana! Dana!’

The magicians turned towards the sound. I lay on the roadway, panting like a fresh-caught fish.

‘Dana!’

It
was
my name!

From the capsized cart, three people ran towards me. One carried a knife that shone against the storm-dark sky. The other held a bow. As I watched, he placed an arrow against the string. And the third? The other was all a-flame. Power and might and majesty. The Guardians saw her, and together they shouted, as if in recognition. The light on the shears caught and flared, reaching into the sky like a torch, and

Crash!

Light poured through me. I felt myself growing, expanding. Like a giant, I towered above the road. Below me, puny men groveled. I laughed to see their fear. Who were these creatures? Why had I feared them? They were lesser beings than I.

‘Dana!’

I picked up the magicians, flicked them away as a dog flicks away fleas. Tossed them against the rocks, where they broke and bled and no doubt died.

The swordsman raised his sword.

‘Will!’

I dwindled down, down, returning to Dana, the sixteen year old. I was a girl, standing on the roadway, facing a boy. He grinned at me a little shakily and held his arms wide. I smiled and stepped into his embrace.

‘Hello,’ I said.

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T
he boys shuffled forward towards the barges. Soldiers in chain mail lined the streets and kept the townsfolk apart from the children. Although their grasp on their weapons appeared relaxed, the soldier’s eyes were watchful. People covered their faces with their hands, as if they could not bear to watch the boys walking past, and tears trickled through their fingers. Cowering behind the row of guardsmen, the townspeople were silent.

At the back of the crowd, Master Yang tipped his head, as if listening for one person. There. His head lifted.

The apprentice walked with the other boys. He had a satchel slung across his shoulders and his feet were bare. Around his wrist was a leather thong, braided with small beads of jade. He crossed the road to the barge. At the top of the gangplank he turned, scanning the crowd, and rubbed the jade beads about his wrist as if looking for comfort. Seeing Master Yang, he smiled. Then, tipping his head in acknowledgement, he stepped into the barge. Swallowed by the gloom, he disappeared.

‘Where is he going?’ I whispered.

‘North,’ said Master Yang.

‘And the knife?’

‘It goes with him.’

On the deck of the barge, the sailors rushed to undo the ropes. They heaved the gangplank off the boat, unfolded the sails and slowly, the barge full of children moved away from the dock.

‘What will happen to him?’

With empty eyes, Master Yang stared at the crowd. ‘He is brave, that one. Brave, and foolish.’

‘Foolish?’

‘Certainly he is foolish. He kept me alive, did he not? Better, much better to let me die.’

The barge drifted into the middle of the stream. As the wind took her sails and she moved faster, traveling with the current.

‘Where are they going?’ I asked.

‘It is the Emperor. He has a need of bookkeepers, to count his taxes. Soldiers, laborers, scholars. Our sons are a tithe. Thus he bends us to his will. For who will rebel when he holds our children close?’

Beside me, a woman wailed. I spoke across the noise. ‘These boys are hostages?’

‘Or slaves.’

A second barge pulled away from the dock. Another took its place. We watched in silence until finally there were no more children and no more ships to carry them.

‘He takes all your children?’

Master Yang shook his head. ‘Only the third son. Leaves the first for posterity, the second for fortune. But the third? Ah, the third he takes.’

‘Has it always been so?’

He shook his head, impatient at my question. ‘Of course not. For who would bear a son, only to lose him? This is a new edict, issued last week.’

‘And no one defies this?’

‘Look at my face, child. I have no eyes. I was the lesson to the others. Better to lose one son than lose them all.’

The crowd breathed out, a collective sigh of sorrow. Gradually, it began to disperse. No one spoke. There were no sidelong glances, no companionship. All kept their eyes on the ground. Some women could barely walk, so deep was their grief. The soldiers kept watch and when the streets where empty, they turned away.

Master Yang and I left too. He staggered as he stepped, for the cobbles were uneven. I took his hand and led him to a seat.

‘Goodbye, my visitor,’ he said. ‘I do not think I will see you again.’

‘Master Yang,’ I asked, ‘where has the knife gone?’

‘To the dragon’s heart,’ he whispered fiercely. ‘The boy, ah, he is brave. I will miss him.’

***

I
stirred, lifting from sleep. The world was dark, but Will slipped his arm around my waist and held me tight. Feeling his breath sighing in my ear, I closed my eyes and drifted back to sleep. How wonderful to have company!

Will was still curled beside me in the morning. I blinked, looked around, trying not to wake him. We had found this cave late last evening. It had been half-hidden by an overhang. Once, people must have lived here; against the rear wall a shelf had been pecked from the wall and below the shelf was a small hole, a storage chamber. But the inhabitants had long ago vacated this place; only animals remained.

Against me, Will stirred. ‘Good morning.’

I smiled at him. ‘You smell of smoke.’

‘I know.’ He nodded at the fire hearth, set beside the cave’s entrance. ‘Not much ventilation in a cave.’

‘I like it.’ I leaned against him. He put an arm around me. Kissed me, long and slow. His mouth was warm, and oh, how good he felt. His hand moved lower and I arched into him.

Outside the cave, a woman coughed. I sighed, moving my mouth away. There was always a chaperone.

He sighed too. I touched his face in apology and smiled at him. Last night N’tombe had spoken of sailing across an empty sea, following a path. This made no sense. Who could follow a path across the water? But last night I had been exhausted; perhaps I had misheard her.

‘Tell me again how you found me?’

‘It wasn’t hard,’ Will grinned. ‘We just followed the fires.’

‘Fires?’

‘Aye. First the ship at the dock. Then the Wayhouse. They were dowsing the flames when we passed by.’

‘The ship? Oh. The ship.’ Light and smoke and fire. And oil. ‘Yes.’

‘You did that?’

I nodded. ‘There was a flame. And oil. And I was angry.’

‘Ah. You were angry.’

‘Are you laughing at me?’

He shook his head. ‘No. Of course not.’

‘So why are you smiling?’

‘I’m just thinking, I hope you don’t get angry at me.’

I stood quickly, nearly banging my head on the low ceiling of the cave. ‘Do you know what it was like? I was locked up for three weeks. Three weeks! Kept in the dark, with no one to talk to. Hardly any food and a only a bucket of water. Don’t I have the right to be just a little bit angry?’

‘Hey, there,’ Will pulled at my hand. Reluctantly, I sat back down beside him. ‘I’m only teasing.’

I only realized I was crying when he rubbed my cheeks.

‘It’s all right, Princess.’ He put his arms about me, pulled me tight against him. ‘You’re not alone anymore I’m here.’

He pulled a dagger from its sheath above his ankle and handed it to me. ‘Take this. Does this help?’

Through my tears I smiled. ‘Always so romantic.’

He smiled, reached over and kissed me. ‘See. Knew that would make you feel better.’

We turned inland, leaving the road. We left the cart behind; its left front wheel had splintered in the fight, and the vehicle was of little use on rough ground so we unhitched the horses and roped the provisions into rough panniers across their backs. The animals were smaller than my father’s horses and their backs felt bony and hard, but they seemed calm enough, despite their lack of saddlery.

We rode towards the mountains. TeSin knew the area, having traveled it before on some long-ago campaign. He thought we had a chance of losing the pursuers in the winding canyon ways of the hill country. There was a trail, TeSin said, a secret path that would take us to the sea without having to cross open country.

‘Why did you bring
him
with you?’ I nodded at TeSin.

‘Seemed you wanted him. Besides, he’s useful as a guide.’