Times assassin, p.11
Time's Assassin, page 11
part #3 of The Islevale Cycle Series
“We’re over here,” Tobias called to the duke. “Along your east wall.”
“Good! Guard the east wall,” he relayed to the soldiers.
Another dark shape swooped by, lower than the first form Mara had seen.
“Did you see that?” Tobias asked, his voice low.
“Yes.” Mara tracked the creature with her musket. “I’ve got it sighted.”
“Me, too. You first.”
She pulled the trigger. A flash of fire left a trace on her vision, and the weapon blared.
The Belvora shrieked, veered.
Tobias’s musket flashed and boomed. The winged shape tumbled to the ground near them, drawing a shout and a curse from more than one guard.
“Remove its head,” Tobias called as he knelt to reload his weapon.
Mara loaded hers, too, checking the sky as she did. She and Tobias had been trained to load their weapons in darkness. A skill demanded by Windhome weapons masters in any time.
Two weapons discharged in quick succession on the far side of the courtyard. Then two more. At least one Belvora wailed in agony.
Mara thought she saw a demon fall.
A soldier screamed. Weapons went off—muskets and pistols. Another Belvora screeched and was silenced.
Tobias straightened, fired almost immediately, shouted her name.
Mara snapped her gaze up in time to see a huge, fell form hurtling toward her. She fell back, raised her musket, and fired all in a single desperate motion.
The flame from her musket illuminated the creature, allowing her to see it for a single instant—blood shining high on its chest, talons reaching for her, amber eyes burning, mouth open—whether to wail or feed, she couldn’t tell. It crashed into her.
Pain, then darkness.
image-Z7JOPGSD.png
The demon shifted, grunting. Tobias dropped his musket, drew one of his pistols, and closed the distance to the Belvora with a single stride. Before the creature could strike at Mara, or turn on him, he set the barrel of his pistol against the demon’s head and fired.
It spasmed. A splatter of dark, foul blood sprayed across the castle wall. Tobias heaved the creature off of Mara and dropped to his knees beside her.
“Mara!”
No response. He felt for a pulse, rested his head to her chest.
She was breathing. Her heart drummed, rapid but steady. He closed his eyes, relief flooding him.
More muskets thundered. He reclaimed and reloaded his musket, stood over her as Belvora blocked the stars above him. He’d lost count of how many demons had been killed, but he could see that at least two lived still.
He called to the duke, who soon joined him. Seeing Mara, he hissed a breath.
“She’s all right,” Tobias said. “But I need help keeping her safe.”
“Of course.”
Muskets flared to their right, the reports following closely.
Risch cried a warning and fired. Tobias tracked the shadow as it wheeled and fired in turn. The demon crashed into a wall, fell to the ground.
“Well done!” the duke said, kneeling to reload.
Tobias did the same, then scanned the sky, ready to fire. He saw no more demons. After some time, he lowered his weapon.
“Is that all of them?” Risch asked, pitching his voice to reach his soldiers.
“I believe so, my lord,” came a reply.
Risch nodded and moved off.
Tobias drew his sword and hacked off the heads of the demons he’d had a hand in killing. He hurried to Mara’s side, examined her more closely. She had an egg-sized knot on the back of her head, and a darkening bruise on her brow. Her breathing sounded clear, and her heartbeat remained strong.
“I’ve called for my healer,” Risch said, emerging from the darkness. “I count eight dead demons.”
“And your soldiers?”
The duke gazed back across the courtyard. “A few are hurt. Two are dead.”
Tobias let out a breath. “I’m sorry, my lord.”
“It could have been worse.”
“Yes,” Tobias said, gently brushing a strand of Mara’s hair off her injured forehead.
A young man stepped into the courtyard through a nearby doorway and paused, seeming unsure of where to go.
“Over here, healer,” Risch said.
The man walked in their direction, a hand trailing along the castle wall. Tobias’s eyes had long since adjusted to the dark; this man’s had not. On the thought, Tobias gazed toward the main gate.
The healer reached Mara and knelt.
“She has a bump on the back of her head,” Tobias told the man.
“And the bruise you can see.”
“Actually, I can’t.”
“Of course. My apologies. It’s on her forehead.”
“No blood anywhere?”
“None that I can see.”
“My lord,” the healer said. “I need to get her inside and tend to her wounds.”
“Of course, healer. There are other wounded as well. I’ll have all of them carried into the hall.”
“Very good, my lord.”
The duke called for soldiers. Tobias helped carry Mara inside.
He didn’t linger, trusting the healer to take care of her.
Instead, he went back outside and crossed the courtyard to the gate. He carried his loaded musket, his pistols, and his blades.
The gate guards eyed him with interest, but let him pass.
He followed the path out of the castle and around to the west side, staying close to the wall, watching for stray Belvora.
Once he had put some distance between himself and the gate, he halted, and said, “I would speak with the Ancient who took light from the castle.”
Tobias kept still, listening for movement or breathing or any response to his summons.
“I will not harm you,” he said. “I wish only to speak with you.”
Nothing.
“The Belvora are dead. As I understand such things, whatever commerce you might have had with them ended with their lives. You risk nothing treating with me.”
He waited. A spirecount passed, then another. Perhaps his instincts had misled him. Or maybe the Hanev was more loyal to
his fellow Ancients than Tobias had anticipated. Fear pebbled the skin on his neck. He pivoted, intending to head back to the gate, his eyes raking across the star-splattered sky once more.
“You wish to engage in commerce with us?”
The voice stopped him as much as the words. It was oddly muffled, as if the speaker’s head were wrapped in cloth, but also sibilant and sharp. And it came from much closer than Tobias had expected.
It occurred to him—far, far too late—that calling out to an unknown Ancient might have been breathtakingly stupid.
The words had come from his right, putting him between the Hanev and the castle wall. He faced that way, trying to spot the demon.
To no avail.
“I wish to speak with you,” he said. “I had in mind no commerce—”
“A summons then,” the voice said. “This carries a cost.”
Again, Tobias winced at his own foolishness. “Commerce” to an Ancient implied far more than it might to most humans. Certainly a conversation might qualify as commerce if information was exchanged, as he hoped it would be.
“Forgive me. It is commerce I seek.”
“You do not know your own mind.”
Judging from the sound of the creature’s voice, it stood directly in front of Tobias, no more than two or three strides away.
Nearer than Tobias would have preferred, especially since he still could not see it.
“In fact I do,” he said. “Know my own mind, that is. I forget sometimes that Ancients see commerce in interactions humans see as...more casual.”
“True, true,” the demon said. “For a species obsessed with material wealth, you are remarkably oblivious to the reach of commerce.”
There. Ahead of him. A hulking darkness, a shadow of shadow. It had to stand five hands taller than Tobias, and it was twice as broad as well. He wondered if it had teeth like Arrokad or Tirribin, or talons like the Belvora they had killed this night.
He couldn’t help inching backward. Too soon, he bumped up against the stone wall.
“You fear us.”
“I’m unfamiliar with your kind. You are...formidable.”
The demon made an odd rasping sound. It took Tobias a full breath to realize it was laughing.
“We are, yes. What commerce do you wish to pursue, human?”
“I want to know who sent you.”
“You seek information.”
“That’s right.”
“And in return?”
“What do you want?”
“What all our kind want. Light. The torches atop this structure were lovely. Warm, amber with hints of blue and orange and red at their base. They were numerous as well, but they merely whet our appetite. We would have more before the moon sets and we are left with only starlight.”
“I can ask the duke to light more.”
“That would be acceptable.”
“First, though—”
“What makes you believe we were sent? Belvora hunt magick, and there are those in this castle who possess it.”
“Yes,” Tobias said. “I’m one of them.” He wasn’t sure why he revealed this to the demon. Instinct. He trusted himself.
“Interesting,” the Hanev said.
“I’ve seen Belvora before. I’ve fought them. What I saw tonight was not simply winged ones on the hunt. This was an attack. You helped them, by taking our light—”
“That is what our kind do.”
“How often do your kind hunt with Belvora?”
Silence. Tobias sensed that he had angered the creature. A risk.
But they were engaged in commerce. Based on what he knew of Ancients, he didn’t think the Hanev could kill him now without disgracing himself. He hoped he was right.
“This is not a matter that concerns humans,” the Hanev said at length, ice in the words.
“We were the Belvora’s prey. I’d say that concerns us.”
“The commerce of prey and predator is separate from our transaction, and separate from all other commerce as well.”
As the Hanev spoke, Tobias caught up with their exchange.
Ancients would not lie during commerce either. They might seek to mislead, by omitting information or keeping their statements so
vague as to lack meaning. A direct lie, he was reasonably certain, would be a violation of customs that dated back thousands of years.
And just now the Hanev had said this was not a matter that involved humans. Tobias had been certain beyond doubt that Orzili and his allies sent the Belvora. Could he have been wrong?
He refused to believe that the attack on Duvyn Castle was a random act. He and Mara had arrived here with the princess this very day, only to be hunted this night by demons that fed on magickal beings. It was too great a coincidence to ignore.
“We were more than prey,” he said, ending a long silence. “The Belvora wanted us in particular. Isn’t that so?”
After another pause, the Hanev said, “Belvora will feed on any magickal beings, and so, yes, they would have fed on you.”
Tobias grinned in the darkness. A mistake.
“Do we amuse you, human?” the demon asked, the rasp in his voice more menacing this time. It reminded Tobias of Droë at her worst.
“I was not laughing at you, Ancient One,” he said, sobering. “I was merely struck by the care with which you phrased your answer.”
“Is that so?”
“Were you sent to kill us?”
“Our kind do not kill. We came here to take light from this structure, as we would take light from any human structure illuminated by flame.”
Another evasion.
“Were the Belvora sent here to kill us?”
“As we have said, the winged ones hunt for magickal beings.
Always.”
Tobias opened his mouth to try again.
“We tire of this exchange,” the Hanev said, perhaps to forestall questions that would be harder to evade. “We have told you the one thing that matters, the one thing that should tell you all you need to know.”
“That this is not a matter for humans.”
Tobias thought the demon would refuse to say more. The Ancient One surprised him. “Just so.”
Commerce among Ancients then. Why would an Ancient send Belvora to kill them? What Ancient had they angered? Aiwi, the Tirribin they bested in the Knot? A Belvora that escaped them, or sought vengeance for the killing of their kind in the Sea of Wraiths or the bay at Vondehm? A third possibility presented itself in his mind, but before he could ponder the matter, the Hanev said, “We would have our light now.”
“Of course, Ancient One. I will speak with the duke.”
The huge shadow before him shifted, the way a man might alter his stance to put his weight on the other foot.
“That is acceptable.”
“With our commerce done,” Tobias said, “I would prefer not to have dealings with you again.”
“Yes, we imagine so.”
Tobias stifled another grin. “Would that be acceptable as well?
Will you pledge not to help other Ancients prey upon us?”
The Hanev made a rumbling sound. “We regret that we cannot. You are clever for a human. We would pledge such if it were within our power to do so, but commerce may demand that we undertake another venture like tonight’s. We beg your forgiveness.”
Ancients rarely offered any sort of apology to humans. The Hanev would expect Tobias to be grateful, and to the extent that he could reconcile himself to possibly being hunted again, Tobias was.
“And you have it, Ancient One. You honor me.”
Another rumble greeted this.
“Farewell, Ancient One.”
Tobias started away from the shadow, hoping he didn’t give offense by doing so. He heard ponderous steps beside him, the occasional snap of a twig or crinkle of dried leaves. The Hanev didn’t speak to him again or try to stop him, but Tobias grew uncomfortable with their proximity to each other. When he reached the gate and entered the castle without the Hanev following, he breathed easier.
Risch awaited him in the courtyard.
“My men said you left the castle.” His words carried a tinge of accusation.
“I did, my lord. I spoke with the Hanev.”
Even with the grounds lit only by stars, Tobias could see that the duke stared at him.
“I cannot decide,” Risch said after a fivecount, “if you are the most reckless man I know, or the most courageous.”
“Can’t I be both?”
The man let out a huff of laughter. “Yes, I suppose you can.”
“The Hanev was helpful. I promised him that you would relight the torches once or twice and allow him to take their light.”
Risch frowned. “You want me to feed it.”
“It’s a matter of commerce. With an Ancient.”
The duke blew out a breath. “All right.” He whirled away, barked orders to the soldiers atop the ramparts.
Tobias entered the duke’s hall and found Mara, who lay on a low pallet, a damp cloth on her forehead, her eyes closed. He knelt beside her, whispered her name. No response. Fear rose in his chest.
“She’ll be all right.”
Tobias looked back. The healer stood behind him, his sleeves rolled to the elbow, sweat shining on his face.
“Has she woken?”
“Yes, briefly. She emptied her stomach when she did—that’s not uncommon with head wounds. I gave her a draught to make her sleep, and I reduced the swelling on the back of her head and on her brow. She needs rest, but I expect her to be well in a day or two.”
“Thank you.” Tobias blinked away tears of relief. “And the others? The duke’s soldiers.”
“Those who were wounded should recover. I fear one woman might lose an arm. Time will tell.”
“You’re to be commended, healer.”
“You’re kind.” The man moved on.
Tobias leaned close to Mara, kissed her cheek, the one that bore a scar from another Belvora attack. Theirs had been a fraught path.
“I love you,” he whispered, the words stirring her hair. “Rest well. I’ll see you come morning.”
He left her there, made his way to the quarters of the duchess.
Almost the moment he knocked, the door flew open, revealing Corinne, worry sharpening her features. She held a finger to her lips, joined him in the corridor, and closed the door with care.
“Your daughter is asleep,” she said. “How fares the duke?”
“He’s well, my lady. He came through the fight without injury.”
She closed her eyes for a heartbeat, murmured a prayer of thanks.
“And the others? Mara?”
“Mara was wounded, but she’ll recover. The same can be said for most of the duke’s guards.”
Her forehead furrowed. “Most?”
“Two were killed.”
“And the demons?”
“All the Belvora are dead.”
She made no mention of the Hanev, and for now Tobias thought it best to say nothing about the Ancient, lest he renew her fears.
Instead, he asked to see Sofya.
She lay on a small pallet that had been set near the hearth. Her eyes fluttered when he kissed her and shifted her blanket, but she remained asleep.
“She can stay here tonight,” Corinne said. “There’s no need to move her.”
This suited his intentions well, but he didn’t tell her as much.
He merely thanked her and left.
He found Risch again, told him he needed to leave the castle one more time. He didn’t explain himself. The duke scowled but didn’t try to stop him.
“You’re armed?” was all he said.
Tobias was, of course.
He followed a winding lane away from the castle, through the dark streets of Duvyn proper to the waterfront, and finally south along the eastern shoreline leading away from the city. Stands of pine loomed behind him, fragrant, rustling in a light breeze.
As he walked, he continued to reflect upon his exchange with the Hanev. Since coming to this time, he had interacted with a number of Ancients, fighting some, befriending others, engaging in commerce of one sort or another with most of them.
