The Gods of Amyrantha (66 page)

'I have a friend here in the city,' she said, hoping her Torlenian was good enough to convince the slaver she was worth listening too. 'If I can get a message to her, she'll pay whatever you want for me.'

The man smiled. 'They've all got someone.'

Arkady wasn't sure she understood what he was saying. 'Pardon?'

'Every third slave who walks through that door,' the slaver told her, 'reckons there's someone on the outside waiting to rescue them. The debtor slaves are the worst. All think there's someone going to pay their debts for them, they do.' He shook his head. 'There's nobody out there for you, woman. Don't go pining away imagining there is.'

Arkady opened her mouth to speak and then shut it abruptly. This man traded in human flesh for a living. It occurred to her that to give him any idea she might be valuable to her enemies could be a death sentence. Suppose she told him who she really was, and instead of looking for Tiji, the man found one of Jaxyn's agents instead?

She shrugged. 'I can dream, can't I?'

The slaver shook his head. 'Not around here you can't. Not if you plan to survive.'

With that dire prediction, the slaver returned his attention to his ledger, after ringing a bell on his desk, presumably to summon another guard to take her away. Without waiting to be asked, Arkady bent down and picked up her shift, slipping her arms through the sleeves as she rose to her feet. The slaver seemed neither to notice, nor care, so completely inured to the spectre of naked human flesh that he no longer associated the lives in which he traded with anything more than his wretched ledger.

It was dark by the time Arkady was escorted from the slaver's office to her cell, via a detour she didn't anticipate. A different guard had come for her this time, and he led her through the torch-lit compound to another enclosure that looked like a smithy as much as anything. At almost the same time as she realised what was going on, the guard grabbed her arm and dragged her forward toward the forge.

The farrier was working on a set of shackles, but he put them aside when he spied the guard and his prisoner. Arkady began to struggle violently as they approached the stifling fires, truly afraid for the first time since embarking on this journey.

'New one?' the farrier asked, spitting uninterestedly onto the floor as he picked up a rag, wrapped it around his hand and then turned to the forge, where he withdrew a long metal handle that had been resting in the flames.

'No!' Arkady screamed, when she saw the brand. 'Tides! You can't be
serious!'

But they were serious. Even the farrier wore the interlinked chain brand of slavery on his chest. They'd all suffered this and weren't planning to let her off.

He turned toward her with the brand, as the guard grabbed Arkady from behind, pinning her arms back

so she couldn't escape. The glowing metal left a trail of sparks in the air as the farrier turned it towards her.

The farrier pulled aside her shift, exposing her right breast. Arkady struggled harder. The guard wrenched her arms back. She screamed, but it seemed he wasn't trying to hurt her. Quite the reverse.

'Stop it!' he ordered impatiently. 'If you move, he'll miss and you'll wind up wearing the brand on your face.'

He was right, of course, and if he'd done this before, probably speaking from experience. Sobbing uncontrollably, Arkady forced herself to stop struggling, forced her panic under control. Through eyes filled with tears, she watched the farrier come closer. So close she could count every pore on his sweaty brow, so close she could smell the stench of his unwashed body.

At the last minute, she turned her face away, terrified, unable to watch.

Arkady's scream split the night as the brand bored into her. The stench of burning flesh made her stomach retch. Pain shot through her whole body like a lightning bolt. The guard held her tight, strangely sympathetic, whispering useless reassurances in her ear that did nothing to dull the pain.

After a moment — although it felt like a tormented lifetime — the farrier withdrew the brand, and then smeared a thick greasy paste over the burn, which seemed to sting even more than the burning metal, if that was possible.

Arkady collapsed into the arms of the guard, the pain stealing her will to fight.

With a gruff command to stand, the guard pulled her to her feet and half-dragged, half-carried the newly branded slave from the forge.

CHAPTER 67

Warlock's fears about his future were not occupying only
his
thoughts, it seemed. Several days after it was confirmed that the former Duke of Lebec and the King's Spymaster had been killed in the prison fire, Warlock was summoned to the office of the King's Private Secretary.

The news of their deaths was the talk of the city. Bodies had been found in the tower which were assumed to be the duke and the spymaster, but they were so badly burned nobody was sure which body belonged to whom. Rumour had it they were to be buried in a mass grave, along with all the other victims from the fire, a stone put over the top to commemorate the event, and then the whole thing would quietly be forgotten.

When Warlock arrived at the King's Private Secretary's office, somewhat to his amazement he discovered Tilly Ponting enjoying afternoon tea with Jaxyn Aranville. Clearly the immortal had no inkling the woman he was entertaining was the Guardian of the Lore, head of the Pentangle of the Cabal of the Tarot, the organisation devoted to his eradication.

Hoping he didn't look too surprised, Warlock bowed, first to Jaxyn and then to Lady Ponting.

'I can come back later if you're busy, my lord,' he said, after greeting Lady Ponting.

'Not at all, Cecil,' Tilly said. 'We were just talking about you, in fact, weren't we, Jaxyn?'

'Yes, we were.'

'I trust I have done nothing to displease my lord? Or her highness?'

Tilly smiled at him encouragingly. 'On the contrary, Cecil. Jaxyn was just saying he was surprised at how well you were working out.'

'To serve her majesty is the reason I breathe,' Warlock replied, certain Tilly would hear the irony in his tone, even if Jaxyn didn't.

'Well, yes, I can see that. Which is why I was so concerned when I heard she was planning to send you away.'

This was news to Warlock. 'I am not aware of any such plan, my lady.'

'That's because we haven't shared it with you,' Jaxyn said. 'Hawkes gave us the idea, actually.'

'I'm still not aware of what the idea is, my lord.'

'Lord Jaxyn wants to recruit you as a spy, Cecil.'

It was impossible to tell if Tilly Ponting was joking. In this room where nobody was really who or what they were claiming to be, it was hard to be sure of anything.

'A spy?' he echoed stupidly, the question buying him time, if nothing else.

'He wants to send you back to Caelum with Lord Torfail and his sister. He seems to think you've won their confidence and that if we gifted you to them as a parting present, you'd be well placed to infiltrate their household for us.'

But who is 'us'?
Warlock wanted to demand. Was Tilly talking about his being sent to Caelum to spy for the Cabal? Was she merely repeating Jaxyn's wish to send him to Caelum to spy for Glaeba?
And does anybody care that my mate is about to whelp and I want to be gone from this place?

The uncertainty of it was driving him mad.

'To serve you is the reason I breathe,' Warlock replied mechanically, unable to think of anything else to say.

'The problem is that the Caelish are expecting a breeding pair,' Jaxyn said.

'But I have no mate,' Warlock said, determined to give this immortal monster no leverage over him.

'I know,' Jaxyn said. 'Lady Ponting was suggesting she might have a solution to that problem.'

'I have a pregnant female in my kennels,' Tilly explained, after taking another sip of tea. 'No idea who fathered her pups. One of the males got over the fence,
I
suppose. Anyway, I was just suggesting to Lord Jaxyn that he send Tabitha Belle along as your mate.'

Behind that guileless smile was the sharp mind of a woman who commanded an organisation whose roots went back several thousand years. Tilly affected a daft exterior, but it was no more real than the facade of the Tide Lord sitting across the desk from her posing as Lord Aranville. Warlock stared at her, not sure whether to thank her, or tear her throat out. To involve his family in such a fashion was monstrous.

But he knew what she was telling him.
This is your only choice, Warlock. You work for the Cabal now, and if you want our protection for your family, you will do as we bid.

But what sort of protection could he offer Boots if she was sent to Caelum with him? His mate, posing as his mate? How was he supposed to treat her? How would he be
expected
to treat her? For the Caelish to believe she was his mate, he would have to act as if she was. But if he did, then would Jaxyn realise Tabitha Belle was someone he cared for? Someone he'd die for?

That was something he would never risk any immortal learning about him.

Which brought up a compelling reason to refuse this ludicrous plan outright — Jaxyn knew who Boots was. She'd grown up in the Lebec Kennels. Worse, because she'd clashed with him in the past, he knew she was a Scard. If he so much as lay eyes on Tilly's 'Tabitha Belle' the whole tottering house of

cards this subterfuge was built on, would come tumbling down.
And if I refuse?

Then Jaxyn would know he was a Scard and the even shakier foundation underpinning this raft of lies, would be exposed.

Tides, just thinking about it is enough to make your head explode.

'To serve you is the reason I breathe,' he repeated, certain any other response would betray his true feelings. 'When would I ... where would I meet up with this ... female? My understanding is that Lord Torfail and his sister are planing to leave in the next few days. Will that be time to bring this ... female ... to Herino.'

Tilly smiled broadly and looked at Jaxyn. 'You see, he's a clever one, this boy. Uses his head. But you've no need to fear on that score, Cecil. I'll have Aleki ship her straight across the lake from Lebec. There's no need for her to come anywhere near Herino.'

It was a shaky reassurance at best, but he was relieved to discover Tilly realised the danger if Jaxyn saw Boots and recognised her for the escaped Lebec canine who'd killed a feline guard during her escape.

'Just try to look happy when you meet up with her in Caelum,' Jaxyn advised. 'We don't want the Caelish getting the idea you're there for any other reason than to serve them.'

'They'll be suspicious, anyway, won't they, my lord?' Warlock asked.

'Lord Torfail might be, but the queen is making a gift of you to the Lady Alysa. She's much less ... discerning.'

Gullible,
is what he really meant, Warlock knew, but it was some small comfort, nonetheless. Of the two immortals visiting from Caelum, Elyssa was by far the lesser evil.

'Then I look forward to serving Glaeba and Queen

Kylia, my lord, in whatever capacity you deem most effective.'

Jaxyn nodded, his belief in the infallibility of the Crasii magical compulsion to obey the Tide Lords making every compliant word Warlock uttered sound plausible.

'It's settled then!' Tilly declared happily, placing her empty cup and saucer on the cart beside Jaxyn's desk. 'I'll send a message to Aleki and have him arrange to ship Tabitha direct to Cycrane.'

'And what's this breeding female going to cost?' Jaxyn asked.

'You just keep me on the guest list at Lebec Palace, dearest, and it won't cost you very much at all.'

'Really?' The Tide Lord studied her suspiciously. 'And all this time, I thought you were Stellan's friend.'

'I am the friend of whoever is in power, Jaxyn,' the old woman said, rising to her feet. 'That used to be Stellan. Now it's you. I do not intend my estates, or my son's future, to go the way of the Deseans out of some misguided notion of loyalty. I am loyal to Glaeba and to those who support her king. Last I heard, Stellan was on trial for high treason just before he so fortuitously perished. Seems to me the sensible thing to do, in a case like this, is to ally oneself with the faction doing the prosecuting, not the faction imprisoned and on trial. I wouldn't like to fortuitously perish, either.'

Tides,
Warlock thought.
These people lie so smoothly, you're never sure
when
they're telling the truth.

'You're a very pragmatic woman, Tilly,' Jaxyn said. 'How do you think Arkady is going to take your change of allegiance when she gets back?'

'Unless she's on the guest list at the palace, Jaxyn,
I
don't really care.'

Jaxyn smiled. Tilly's cold-blooded willingness to drop friends under a cloud for those who were in favour didn't disturb him in the slightest. He seemed to

accept it without question, probably because it was precisely what he would have done, had he been in her shoes.

Where there is no difference,
Warlock asked himself with some concern, as he watched the head of the Cabal verbally fencing with the Tide Lord,
between
the
actions of two opposing forces, how does one ever really tell who is good and who is evil?