The Sword & Sorcery Anthology (47 page)

“Rula. In my left saddle bag. The same leather packet I had when
I treated Toma.” She left. “He’ll probably go before sundown. But I’ll
do what I can.”

“Tain, if he dies.... Grimnir and the others.... They’d rather take
the Witch’s orders. Her style suits them better.”

Tain checked the Baron’s eyes and mouth, dabbed blood, felt his
chest. There was little left of Caydar. “Torfin. Anyone else shown
these symptoms?”

“I don’t think so.”

“They will. Probably the girl, if she’s been intimate with him.”

Rula reappeared. She heard. “What is it?”

“Tuberculosis.”

“No. Tain, she’s only a child.”

“Disease doesn’t care. And you could say she’s earned it.”

“No. That isn’t fair.”

“Nothing’s fair, Rula. Nothing. Torfin. Find out where she went.”
Tain took the packet from Rula, concentrated on Caydar.

He left the room half an hour later, climbed the ladder to the
ramparts. Hands clasped behind him, he stared at the green of the
Zemstvi.

A beautiful land, he thought. About to be sullied with blood.

Fate, with a malicious snicker, had squandered the land’s last hope.

Torfin followed him. “They’re not sure. She just led them out.”

“Probably doesn’t matter. It’s too late. Unless....”

“What?”

“We smash the snake’s head.”

“What? He’s going to die? You can’t stop it?”

“No. And that leaves Shirl.”

“You saying what I think?”

“She has to die.”

Torfin smiled thinly. “Friend, she wouldn’t let you do it. And if she
couldn’t stop you with the Power, I’d have to with the sword.”

Tain locked eyes with the youth. Torfin wouldn’t look away. “She
means a lot to you, eh?”

“I still love her.”

“So,” Tain murmured. “So. Can you stand up to her? Can you
bully the others into behaving themselves?”

“I can try.”

“Do. I’m into this too deep, lad. If you don’t control her, I’ll try to
stop her the only way I know.” He turned to stare across the Zemstvi
again.

Though the Tower wasn’t tall, it gave a view of the countryside
matched only from the Toad. That grim formation was clearly visible.
The rain had cleared the air.

Someone was running toward the Tower. Beyond, a fountain of
smoke rose against the backdrop formed by the Dragon’s Teeth.

A distance-muted thunderclap smote the air.

“That’s your place,” Torfin said softly.

XVII

A man in black, wearing a golden mask, rounded a knoll. He paused
above the Palikov stead. Bloody dawn light leaked round the Toad.
It splashed him as he knelt, feeling the earth. It made his mask more
hideous. The faceted ruby eyepieces seemed to catch fire.

Thin fingers floated on the air, reaching, till they pointed westward.
The man in black rose and started walking. His fingers led him on.

He went slowly, sensing his quarry’s trail. It was cold. Occasionally
he lost it and had to circle till he caught it again.

The sun scaled the sky. Kai Ling kept walking. A gentle, anticipatory
smile played behind his mask.

The feel of the man was getting stronger. He was getting close.
It was almost done. In a few hours he would be home. The Tervola
would be determining the extent of his reward.

He crossed a low hilltop and paused.

A shepherd’s stead lay below. He reached out....

One man, injured, lay within the crude sod house. A second life-
spark lurked in the grove surrounding the nearby spring.

And there were six riders coming in from the southwest.

One seized his attention. She coruscated with a stench of wild,
untrained Power.

“Lords of Darkness,” Kai Ling whispered. “She’s almost as strong
as the Demon Princess.” He crouched, becoming virtually invisible in
a patch of gorse.

Five of the riders dismounted. They heaped kindling round the
timbers of a partially finished house.

A man staggered from the sod structure. “Shirl!” he screamed.
“For god’s sake....”

A raider tripped him, slipped a knife into his back as he wriggled
on the earth.

Kai Ling stirred slightly as two blasts of emotion exploded below.

A child burst from the grove, shrieking, running toward the killer.
And the wild witch lashed the man with a whip. He screamed louder
than the boy.

Kai Ling reeled back from the raw surge. She was as strong as the
Prince’s daughter. But extremely young and undisciplined.

He stood.

The tableau froze.

The boy thought quickest. He paused only a second, then whirled
and raced away.

The others regarded Kai Ling for half a minute. Then the Witch
turned her mount toward him. He felt the uncertainty growing within
her.

Kai Ling let his Aspirant’s senses roam the stead. The barn stood
out. That was his man’s living place. But he was gone.

Faceted rubies tracked the fleeing boy. Lips smiled behind gold.
“Bring him to me, child,” he whispered.

The raiders formed a line shielding the woman. Swords appeared.
Kai Ling glanced at the boy. He waited.

She felt him now, he knew. She knew there had been sorcery in
the Zemstvi. She would be wondering....

A raider wheeled suddenly. Kai Ling could imagine his words.

He had been recognized.

He folded his arms.

What would she try?

The fire gnawed at the new house. Smoke billowed up. Kai Ling
glanced westward. The child had disappeared.

The Witch’s right arm thrust his way. Pale fire sparkled amongst
her fingertips.

He murmured into his mask, readying his defenses.

She was a wild witch. Untrained. She had only intuitive control of
the Power. Her emotions would affect what little control she had. He
remained unworried despite her strength.

Kai Ling underestimated the size of the channel fear could open in
her. She hit him with a blast that nearly melted his protection.

He fell to his knees.

He forced his hands together.

Thunder rolled across the Zemstvi. The timbers of the burning
house leapt into the air, tumbled down like a lazy rain of torches. The
sod house twisted, collapsed. The barn canted dangerously. The cow
inside bawled.

The Witch toppled from her horse, screaming, clawing her ears.
She thrashed and wailed till a raider smacked her unconscious.

The Caydarmen looked uphill. Kai Ling, though unconscious,
remained upon his knees. Golden fire burned where his face belonged.
They tossed the Witch aboard her horse, fled.

Kai Ling eventually fell forward into the gorse, vanishing.

Then only the flames moved on the Kleckla stead, casting dancing
color onto the man whose dreams were dying with him.

XVIII

Tain pushed the roan. He met Steban more than a mile from the
Tower. The boy was exhausted, but his arms and legs kept pumping.

“Tain!” he called. “Tain, they killed Pa.” He spoke in little bursts,
between lung-searing gasps.

“You go on to your mother. She’s at the Tower. Come on. Go.” He
kicked the roan to a gallop.

Steban didn’t reach the Tower. Rula, having conquered Tain’s
mule, met him. She pulled him up behind her and continued toward
her home.

Tain saw the Caydarmen to the south, but didn’t alter course. He
would find them when their time came.

It was too late now. Absolutely too late. He had switched allegiance
from peace to blood. He would kill them. The Witch would go last.
After she saw her protectors stripped away. After she learned the
meaning of terror.

He was an angry, unreasoning man. Only craft and cunning
remained.

He knew he couldn’t face her wild magic armed only with long
and shortsword. To do so he had to resume his abandoned identity.
He had to become a soldier of the Dread Empire once more. A
centurion’s armor bore strong protective magicks.

What amazing fear would course through the Zemstvi!

He pulled up when he topped the last hill.

The after-smell of sorcery tainted the air round the stead. The
familiar stench of the Dread Empire overrode that of the Witch....

He hurled himself from the horse into the shelter of small bushes.
His swords materialized in his hands. His emotions perished like small
flames in a sudden deluge. He probed with Aspirant senses.

They had come. Because of the civil war he hadn’t believed they
would bother. He had fooled himself. They couldn’t just let him go,
could they? Not a centurion with his background. He could be too
great a boon to potential enemies.

The heirs of the Dread Empire, both the Demon Princess and the
Dragon Princes, aspired to western conquests.

Tain frowned. Sorceries had met here. The eastern had been
victorious. So what had become of the victor?

He waited nearly fifteen minutes, till certain the obvious trap
wasn’t there. Only then did he enter the yard.

He couldn’t get near Toma. The flames were too hot.

Kleckla was beyond worry anyway.

Tain was calm. His reason was at work. He had surprised himself
in the jaws of a merciless vice.

One was his determination to rid the Zemstvi of the Witch and
her thieves. The other was the hunter from home, who would be a
man stronger than he, a highly ranked Candidate or Select.

Where was he? Why didn’t he make his move?

Right now, just possibly, he could get away. If he obscured his trail
meticulously and avoided using the Power again, he might give his
past the slip forever. But if he hazarded the Tower, there would be
no chance whatsoever. He would have to use the Power. The hunter
would pin him down, and come when he was exhausted....

Life had been easier when he hadn’t made his own decisions. Back
then it hadn’t mattered if a task were perilous or impossible. All he
had had to do was follow orders.

He released the old cow, recovered his mule packs. He stared at
them a long time, as if he might be able to exhume a decision from
their contents.

He heard a noise. His hands flew to his swords.

Rula, Steban, and the mule descended the hill.

Tain relaxed, waited.

Rula surveyed the remains. “This’s the cost of conciliation.” There
was no venom in her voice.

“Yes.” He searched her empty face for a clue. He found no help
there.

“Rula, they’ve sent somebody after me. From the east. He’s in the
Zemstvi now. I don’t know where. He was here. He chased the Cay
darmen off. I don’t know why. I don’t know who he is. I don’t know
how he thinks. But I know what his mission is. To take me home.”

Steban said, “I saw him.”

“What?”

“A stranger. I saw him. Over there. He was all black. He had this
ugly mask on....”

A brief hope flickered in Tain’s breast.

“The mask. What did it look like? What were his clothes like?”

Steban pouted. “I only saw him for a second. He scared me. I ran.”

“Try to think. It’s important. A soldier has to remember things,
Steban. Everything.”

“I don’t think I want to be a soldier anymore.”

“Come on. Come on.” Tain coaxed him gently, and in a few
minutes had drawn out everything Steban knew.

“Kai Ling. Can’t be anybody else.” His voice was sad.

“You know him?” Rula asked.

“I knew him. He was my best friend. A long, long time ago. When
we were Steban’s age.”

“Then....”