City of Blaze (The Fireblade Array) (50 page)

The lieutenant squeezed his eyes before opening them to the darkness of his tent. He sucked the damp, cold air into his empty lungs and felt their aches fade. His head hurt from the effort of the many factors it had assimilated. Silar’s mother had said anyone could look into the future if they knew enough about the people, their history and environment. But she’d said he had a special capacity for it, more so than his brothers, and so she had trained him to really see the possibilities through deep introspection. Some talent he had! All he had seen was what he’d thought inevitable anyway. Silar would have to work through the night at this now, introducing new variables to see if they would alter the outcome. Morghiad had better be bloody grateful for this, and sorry for the headaches it would cause. He took a swig of water from the canteen by his bedroll and lay back on the lumpy travel pillow. No doubt the kahr had something more comfortable upon which to rest his head. Silar scrubbed that image from his mind quickly. He didn’t want a naked Artemi traipsing into his visions; that had a tendency to cause all sorts of odd outcomes. He closed his eyes and fell back into the clear depths of nothingness. The situation was set up once more and this time Silar tinkered with the number of soldiers present. The outcome was the same. He locked Artemi in a box, hidden from view, but again the army swirled into the white mist. Then he tried getting Artemi to whisper the truth about Morghiad to the men individually, but once more the men were torn apart.

Hours of the night passed as he endeavoured to find a way of saving Morghiad and the army from Acher’s influence. Silar even tried placing the king directly into the situation, and the results of that were even more disastrous. Worse, if Morghiad kept the secret, the army would find out eventually anyway and imprison the kahr, before being violently torn apart. Silar felt exhausted, hopeless and drawn. His head was pounding from the effort.
Sometimes change is inevitable
, his mother had said when he’d predicted the death of his favourite, young and apparently healthy horse. He’d cried about that in the weeks before it came to pass, but then Silar had only been seven years old. And Faidar had been as good an animal as a boy could have wished for. But that had been something he could not fight. This was avoidable, somehow. Light from the early sun began to brighten the innards of his tent. Already time to get up and move the army northwards. Sometimes Morghiad had no idea of the trouble he caused.

The kahr grabbed Aval roughly by the arm and pulled her to a small copse of tangled oak at the edge of the camp. His fine black hair fell about his ears in unruly wisps and dark stubble marched along his jaw. It was unlike him to appear unshaven, but there was something urgent about his disposition. The man’s shoulders worked smoothly with each stride. He looked especially beautiful with his appearance roughened by days of hard travel and fighting. At last he had accepted his attraction to her. At last he was going to throw her against a tree and take whatever he wanted from her body. Aval could not deny that she loved him, but she had met more troublesome obstacles in her time than that little witch, Artemi. The lady softened her lips in anticipation of the attention she knew she was about to receive. Men had always been captured by her looks, and she always ensnared her desired prey. Would he be as impressive with his clothes off as he was with them on? Aval made sure she took in an eyeful of his excellent bottom while they strode into the trees together.

Morghiad set her against a broad tree and folded his arms, expression stern. He said nothing. Perhaps he was waiting for her to advance on him. Sometimes even the most confident of men could secretly be utterly shy. Aval stepped forward and raised herself on tiptoes to kiss him. His reaction was not what she’d expected: the man grunted, apparently in annoyance, and placed her firmly back against the tree before re-folding his arms. What sort of game was this? She moved forward again, only to find her back meeting the rough bark of the tree once more.

“What is it that you want of me, Aval?” he asked gruffly.

That was a stupid question if ever she’d heard one. Clearly brains did not come with beauty. “Oh come now, you know what I desire. Why else would you have brought me here? I have seen you admiring me for some time, so why don’t you -”

“I can assure you that I harbour no admiration for your looks or character.” He frowned.

Artemi must have brainwashed him into saying such idiotic things. She would get her comeuppance for this. Aval could think of several ways for her to suffer, not least informing the king of the witch’s little secret. “If that is true, then why have you brought me here?”

Morghiad took a breath. “You are not to return to Cadra. If I catch sight of you there or I hear from my network that you have entered the city I will have you hunted down and forcibly expelled. You must never go back there. Do you understand?”

The kahr was talking utter rubbish. She was a free woman, a daughter of the powerful di Certa family. No one told them where they could or could not go! Not even a kahr! “I go where I choose. I am not a criminal.”

Morghiad seethed through gritted teeth. “You endangered the lives of people I care about. And impersonating a soldier of the Calidellian army is a punishable offence. So yes, you have committed more than one crime in my eyes and in the eyes of others. You will not return to Cadra.”

Aval’s passion had entirely evaporated and had been replaced by anger. She bit her lip and stomped out of the copse.

His voice came from surprisingly close behind her. “I need you to give me your word that you will not return there.”

She walked back into the camp, shoulders stiff with annoyance, and turned to him. “Why should I do as you command if the king is pleased with my presence?”

“Because you have no choice.” Some of the resting soldiers looked up at their captain, alerted by the tone in his voice.

Aval hadn’t wanted to use this threat against him; it was below her, but he was right that she had no choice: “Then I will tell the king about your little whore’s secret.” Several of the nearby men stood, hands on hilt.

Anger flashed in Morghiad’s brilliant green eyes. His face twisted into a snarl. “If you do anything to endanger her life I can guarantee that you will suffer for it.” He clutched at the uppers of her arms with an iron grip. “Do not think that because you are a woman I would spare you any more pain than I would a man. Tell the king or anyone else about her and you have my word that I shall kill you.” He released her arms. “Pack your things and leave today. I’ll have your possessions at Cadra sent to your family’s house when we return.” He turned and strode with his usual grace from the area.

Aval looked around at the faces of the soldiers. All men stood firmly, arms crossed. They did not appear sympathetic to her at all. One man had even nodded with approval at Morghiad’s promise to murder her. What sort of army was this? She felt embarrassed as well as shaken, though it had not been enough to dissolve her attraction to the kahr. She feared that would take some time to fade. The lady drew herself up and pushed her shoulders back. She had missed her parents in the three years she’d been absent from their home. Perhaps now was a good time to visit them, and their lands were not too far from Jesundh in any case. Yes, she really ought to go and see her dear mother and father.

Silar called loudly through the tent opening, “Is it safe to come in?”

Artemi stifled a grin. “Yes, Lieutenant Silar. You may enter.” She had missed him a little while they’d been away. There was something very reassuring about his presence, though she could not have said what it was. Artemi felt a grain of warmth inside the kahr at hearing Silar’s voice. Morghiad had missed him too, though he would never have admitted it. His face was still darker than a thundercloud, however. The tall, blond man stepped through the doorway in a somewhat crumpled uniform. The beginnings of a dark yellow beard clutched at his jaw and his hair was all over the place: messiness that he usually wore well. But his face was grey and his eyes bloodshot. “Light of Achellon, what happened to you?” Artemi rose to look more closely at him. He looked like he’d aged a thousand years. She guided him down to a soft pile of cushions and inspected his exhausted eyes in the dim light.

The lieutenant laughed softly. “As much as I enjoy you fussing over me I fear it is only a symptom of my own actions. I’ll live, girl.” He moved her hand from his face.

“What have you been doing? Drinking pinh by the pint?” She could hear Morghiad shifting about behind her.

“It’s what happens when you spend a few days staring into a pit of possibilities,” Silar said.

What did he mean by that? Artemi went to sit by Morghiad, who was spinning that dagger of his again.

The kahr met her eyes. “Silar has something of a talent for looking into the future.”

“That’s not exactly true,” the lieutenant interjected.

Artemi looked at the blond man. “Like the dream I had before the battle?”

“No,” Morghiad stated, matter-of-factly.

Silar frowned. “What dream was this?”

The kahr spoke before she could. “It doesn’t matter now. Tell me what you saw, Silar.”

The lieutenant compressed his lips and rested his forearm on a raised knee. “It is not good. The men will learn of the truth no matter what you do, and when they hear it, the army will be torn apart or dissolve into a great big fight between two factions.”

The news came like a hard punch to Morghiad, and Artemi felt it just as keenly.

Silar continued, “The only way I can see to avoid it... and I cannot explain the reasoning behind it... is that you have Koviere with you when you tell them. And after that you must kill King Acher. And it must be you, no one else. Though a young sergeant and Eupith will try. But if you do these things you two will live and the army will stay whole.”

Why would the men listen to a prisoner who sounded like a madman? And regicide? “How can you be sure of this?” she asked.

He levelled his blue-eyed gaze at her. “I’m not, entirely. It is just the most likely of outcomes.”

“He is usually right,” Morghiad said quietly.

Artemi was more than a little impressed by this talent. “Do you know the name of the sergeant?”

Silar shook his head.

“Can you look at the future of anything at all?” Her curiosity peaked.

The blond man grinned. “Only where human action is involved, and only if I’ve encountered the people concerned, or read something of them. No doubt I’ve seen that sergeant before, or brushed past him at some point. My eyes will have seen something about him that my consciousness did not. Of course, I cannot account for the actions of people unknown to me, but the repercussions of their actions cast shadows across the lives of the people I do know. And sometimes those shadows reappear in the things I see. Oh...” he grinned broadly, “And don’t ride into the Jesundh Town Hall naked. It won’t end well.” Silar winked at her.

Artemi could feel her cheeks reddening. A glimmer of annoyance surfaced in Morghiad, but he was quick to suppress it.

“Do you know if there’s a time limit on dispatching the king?” The kahr asked.

Silar’s eyebrows raised. “Well, that explains that part of the scene. It can’t be immediate. There was something about three years and a shadow -” He cut off to look at Artemi. “Beyond that I’m not sure; I’ll have to investigate further.”

Morghiad rubbed at his stubble. “Take some days to rest first. There is something else I want you to apply your talents to which may link closely to what you saw.”

They were keeping something from her, both of them. She hated that. Artemi trusted them enough to know they thought they were doing whatever it was for her protection, but it was enormously frustrating. Asking about it in the past had only produced blank stares and silence from either, or a swift change of subject. She explored Morghiad’s emotions, but found nothing that betrayed his secrecy. He certainly didn’t seem to feel guilty about keeping this thing from her. Hopefully he could feel how irritated she was about it. She didn’t want to upset him, only to let him know that she wasn’t blind to the undertones of their conversation.