Blades of the Old Empire (10 page)

“Are you sure the man you saw down in the courtyard was the same one who attacked Prince Kythar?” Mother Keeper insisted.

Ellah hesitated. She had been sure when she first saw him, but after all this questioning she wasn’t anymore. The way everyone in the room was looking at her didn’t help. There was a range, all the way from Evan’s quiet curiosity to Odara Sul’s open mockery, but worst of all was Mai, whose indifferent gaze, fixed on the wall just past Ellah’s shoulder, suggested that her words didn’t matter at all.

Ellah took a breath. “No, I’m not sure,” she said.

Odara Sul patted her on the shoulder. “There, see? You’re probably mistaken. It happens.”

Ellah swallowed. No matter how patronized she felt, she
had
to say it.

“It’s just that there was something unusual about that man. As if…”

“As if what?” Mother Keeper’s voice rang with impatience.

“As if – as if he had lots to hide,” Ellah managed. “The two men I saw talking down there, I’m sure they were talking about something forbidden. Something they wouldn’t want anyone to know.”

“But you were so far away you couldn’t possibly hear them!”

Ellah paused. She really didn’t have much else to say. It was a hunch, no more.

“You still have a lot to learn,” Mother Keeper said. “Next time, talk to me first. There’s no need to alarm everyone unless you are sure.”

Ellah lowered her head, wishing she could make herself invisible.

“Forgive the interruption, Mother Keeper,” King Evan suddenly said, “but I had a chance to observe Ellah during our trip, and it seems to me that she doesn’t usually speak up unless there’s something that needs to be said . Shouldn’t we at least consider that she could be right?”

Ellah’s eyes widened at the unexpected support, but Mother Keeper’s glance cut her off.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty,” the older woman said, “this is Keepers’ business. I know how many – or rather, how few – lessons the girl had. I also know her shortcomings.” She glanced at Mai. Ellah hoped she was the only one to notice. “She would have to be far more advanced in her training before she could make claims like this. Trust me, Your Majesty.”

Evan smiled. “I trust you completely, Mother Keeper, and I would never dream of questioning your judgment or interfering in Keepers’ business. Yet, if we find out later that Ellah was right and we dismissed the possibility, we would never forgive ourselves, would we?”

“What do you suggest, Your Majesty?”

Evan turned to Mai. “Do you think you could look into this, Aghat? With your usual tact, of course. Remember that we’re guests here.”

Mai nodded, a brief smile on his face mirroring Evan’s. Then, he looked past the Keepers straight at Ellah. “Will you come with me? You’re the only one who knows what he looks like.”

Ellah’s mouth fell open. Was he
asking
her to come with him because he needed her
help
?

“Yes.”

“Thanks.” Mai’s face was straight, but she caught a merry gleam in his eyes.

“If you feel it necessary to organize this search party, Your Majesty,” Mother Keeper put in, “I think it would be prudent to send Odara Sul along. She has a lot more experience than Ellah.”

Evan shrugged. “I just placed Aghat Mai in charge. You’d have to ask him. However omnipotent he seems, he can only protect so many people on a dangerous mission.”

“I can protect myself, thank you,” Odara Sul snapped. She loosened her dagger in its sheath and went over to stand by Ellah’s side. From up close, Ellah could see a strand of hair tighten onto the knot on Odara’s head, as if trying to choke it to death.

Ellah followed Mai around the bend of the corridor, trying to mimic the way he slid along the wall, smooth and sleek like a shadow. She could hear the rustle of Odara Sul’s dress close behind.

As they neared the corner, Mai’s hand shot up, making them freeze in their tracks. They waited as the shuffling steps of the patrol went by, echoing in the large stone hallway. Out of the corner of her eye, Ellah saw Odara Sul draw a thin, curved blade from a sheath at her belt. Anxious to be as useful as she could, Ellah reached for her own dagger, but Mai’s hand stopped her.

“Do you know how to use it?” he asked quietly.

Ellah opened her mouth to say “yes”, but his look made her bite her tongue. He really needed to know, she realized. And, however much she wanted to impress him, saying yes wouldn’t be truthful. Despite some weapon lessons she had taken, she had never felt comfortable handling a blade, even one as short as a dagger. She could use it, say, to clean fish or cut bread, but wielding it against an opponent…

“Not for fighting,” she admitted.

He nodded. “Put it away then. And focus. The courtyard you spoke about is through that door.”

He pointed to a tightly shut door at the end of the hallway. A chill went down Ellah’s spine. She never realized they were so close.

“If someone opens the door from the other side, they’ll see us,” she whispered.

Mai’s hand closed over her wrist, pulling her along the wall into a deep niche behind a column. Odara Sul followed. The three of them huddled into the tiny space. Ellah did her best to distance herself from the warmth of Mai’s body, so close that she could feel the hardness of muscle under his shirt. She caught Odara Sul’s mocking gaze and turned away, forcing her attention to the small door.

“Now!” Mai whispered, as if giving a command.

The door swung open. A shadow blocked the light and stepped into the hallway, a tall man wrapped in a hooded black robe.

He approached their hiding place and stopped. His nose twitched, as if he was sniffing the air. Then he turned and looked straight into the niche.

“I know you’re in there,” he said. “And I know you’re waiting for me. Why don’t you show your faces?”

Mai disengaged from the wall and stepped forward, keeping to the shadows and shielding Ellah and Odara Sul from view. “You first.”

The man chuckled. Then in a quick gesture he swept the hood off to reveal a bony face with heavy eyebrows and a strong jaw. His eyes were pale brown, almost yellow.

Ellah’s heart raced. “It’s him! Kaddim Tolos!”

Mai nodded and stepped all the way out of the niche. Tolos stood still for a moment, studying him with an unreadable expression.

“Ah, a challenge,” he said at length. “I enjoy a challenge.”

He raised his hand and gestured into the depth of the hallway. A dozen hooded figures emerged from the shadows, fanning around Mai. The Diamond’s eyes widened. Following his gaze, Ellah realized why. There was no mistaking the face of the man in the lead, his square jaw and small, beady eyes. He was at the head of the patrol of the false Holy Knights that tried to stop them on the road out of the Crown City.

But how was it possible?

It was clear that the man recognized Mai as well. His face folded into a grin as he and his companions drew their weapons, spiked metal balls hanging off chains.

“Orbens,” Odara Sul whispered.

Mai drew his staff from the sheath at his back. Tolos measured him with his eyes.

“How good are you with that stick of yours, Aghat?” he asked.

“Good enough.”

“Shall we test that?” At Tolos’s signal the hooded figures came into motion all at once. Orbens shot out, the whizzing of spiked metal balls filling the narrow hallway.

Mai flicked the blades out from the ends of his staff. When the front line attackers were in range, he thrust his weapon sideways in a rotating motion, catching an orb on the blade. Moving like lightning, he twisted his grip and thrust to the other side. With a screech, both orbens came free, chains wrapped around the blades on the ends of Mai’s staff.

Mai lifted his weapon, the orbens extending its length by two spinning chains. He made a forward sweep with it, sending the frontline attackers down to the floor. The others stood back, hesitating.

Tolos stretched out his hands. Ellah felt as if an invisible wave hit her, rolling on through the hallway. The wave stilled all sounds in its wake, pressing on the ears with disabling strength. Standing behind Tolos, Ellah imagined she could see the air waver in front of his outstretched palms, a cone of force trapping Mai as he faced his attackers.

Mai’s weapon hand wavered. An orben lashed through his defense, hitting the end of his staff. Another whizzed past, narrowly missing his head. There was a smirk on the attacker’s face as he recomposed for a new blow.

As Mai struggled to regain his footing, orbens came at him from all sides. One brushed the side of his face, metal spikes biting into his cheek. He staggered, trying to recover his balance. Blood gushed down his face.

Ellah gasped, eyes fixed on the mess of Mai’s face. Torn flesh hanging in pieces made him almost unrecognizable. As another orben swayed past, he made no move to avoid it.
The next one would kill him!

Don’t just stand there, do something!
Shaking off the terror, Ellah took a running leap out of the niche straight at Tolos. She landed on his back, grabbing on with all her might, squeezing and twisting, digging her nails into flesh, trying to do as much damage as she could. The man, unprepared for such an attack, stumbled, grasping on in a vain attempt to shake Ellah off. The pressure of the force subsided. Out of the corner of her eye Ellah saw Mai recover. As a new orben shot toward him at full speed, he leaned out of the way and sent the attacker down with a clear blow of his staff.

Tolos’s hands closed on Ellah’s wrists with numbing strength. She kicked and screamed, but was unable to hold on. The man pulled her off like a sack and threw her against the wall. Winded, she lay there, watching the fight with blurry eyes.

Mai’s remaining opponents were backing up the hallway, more anxious to keep out of the way of his weapon than to continue the fight. They were throwing hopeful glances at their leader, but he seemed in no hurry as he straightened out his robe and hair, keeping his thoughtful gaze on Mai, whose movements, no longer suppressed by the strange power, regained their usual speed and precision.

“You may stop, Aghat,” Tolos said. “I trust we’ve both satisfied our curiosity about each other, haven’t we?”

Mai lowered his staff, keeping the blades bare. Tolos looked past him to his men. “Is anyone dead?”

“No, Kaddim,” came a reply.

Tolos nodded. “Of course. Diamonds don’t kill, unless they’re paid to do it. Or,” he looked at Mai, “unless they fight for their life. I take it, you didn’t feel challenged enough, Aghat?”

Mai responded with a calm stare. The wound on his face looked bad. Streaks of oozing blood caked his cheek, concealing the true extent of the damage.

Tolos chuckled. “Fair enough. At least you’ve got a small token on your face to remember me by. And now, I hope you’ll excuse me, Aghat. I am expected elsewhere.” He turned and strode away along the hallway. The robed men limped off in his wake, throwing fearful glances at Mai.

When they were gone, Odara Sul brushed out of the niche and stopped in front of Ellah.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” she snapped. “You could’ve been killed! What were you thinking?” She paused, but instinct told Ellah that it would be best to keep her silence. “Are you all right?” Odara added at length.

Ellah nodded and shakily got to her feet. She looked at Mai, his disfigured face a mask of blood and gore. Tears filled her eyes. He was a
Diamond
, the best fighter that ever walked the earth. What kind of evil power did Tolos possess that could make
this
happen?

Odara rushed to Mai’s side and pushed his blood-caked hair out of the way to take a closer look at the wound. Mai tensed and drew back. Odara gave him an exasperated glance.

“For Shal Addim’s sake, Aghat! Let me look at that!”

His guarded expression warned her to keep her distance.

Odara sighed. “Come now, Aghat. We both know your wound isn’t deadly. But you probably also know enough about orbens to realize how long it will take to heal, and what kind of scar it will leave. Believe me, it’d make your face hard to recognize. It would be a great pity to let that happen. Not if something could be done about it.”

His lips twitched. He winced as the smile touched his wounded cheek. After a long pause, he nodded.

Odara Sul stepped up to Mai and drew his hair back again. This time he didn’t resist as she took a piece of cloth from her shoulder bag and pressed it to the wound.

“Hold it, Aghat.” Odara turned, pushing several dry towels out of her bag into Ellah’s hands. “Take these,” she commanded, “and soak them in the fountain out in the courtyard. We have some washing to do.”

Ellah grabbed the handful of cloth and made her cautious way out into the empty courtyard. She approached the basin and dipped the towels into the cool water. Then she scooped them out and hurried back inside.

Mai was sitting against the wall at the courtyard entrance, with Odara leaning over him. Now that the bleeding had stopped, the wound looked even worse. Mai’s left cheek was completely disfigured. Skin hung off it in pieces, the torn flesh underneath slowly acquiring a deadly leaden color. Ellah resisted the urge to look away.

“Keep very still, Aghat,” Odara Sul said. “This is going to hurt.”

She took the wet towels from Ellah and thoroughly cleaned the wound and the skin around it. Mai’s face remained calm, but as Odara’s fingers moved along the gash, slow and careful not to destroy any more flesh, Ellah saw his lowered hand ball into a fist until his knuckles went white. He noticed Ellah’s gaze and slowly relaxed his hand. Ellah hastily looked away.

When the wound was clean, Odara Sul carefully took a small vial of dark glass from a pouch at her belt.

“You must help me to hold his head,” she said to Ellah. “It’s going to hurt, but we can’t let him move. You must hold him very still.”

Ellah glanced hesitantly at Mai and made a move to approach, but his gaze kept her in place.

“I appreciate the thought,” he said, “but I can hold my head still all by myself, thank you.”

“It’s going to hurt like hell,” Odara warned. “You’ll think your flesh’s being burned alive. I’ve seen grown men scream and go berserk with the pain. Yet, I can’t have you move when I am doing this. A slight movement and you’ll have a permanent scar. Or worse.”

Mai’s face twitched into a crooked smile. “If I went berserk, with pain or anything else, the two of you wouldn’t be able to do much about holding me still, would you?”

Odara sighed. “Probably not. But if you want me to heal your wound, the only way I can do it is my way. Please trust me.”

He held her gaze for a moment longer, then relaxed and leaned back against the wall. Following Odara’s nod, Ellah approached and kneeled by his side. She carefully pushed back his blood-caked hair and put her palms on the sides of his head. The gesture felt too intimate, but Ellah did her best to distance herself from it. She pressed her palms tighter. A shadow ran over his face and she knew that she caused pain, but there was no time to change the grip. Odara drew forward. In one hand she had the open vial. In the other, a small brush glistening with dark, sticky liquid.

“Hold on tight,” Odara said to Ellah. “And, for Shal Addim’s sake keep his hair away from the liquid!”

Ellah had no time to wonder, because at that moment the brush connected with the open flesh of the wound. In an instant blood drained from Mai’s face and he became so pale that he seemed almost transparent. Holding on with all her might, Ellah sensed his body go tense and shiver against her. Yet, he didn’t move. His face remained calm. Only his eyes betrayed the pain, the dilated pupils making them look black instead of the usual blue.

If Ellah wasn’t so close to him, she would never have guessed how much pain he felt. But now, through their touch, she almost felt his pain as hers. The strength of it made her want to sob.

Odara Sul showed no awareness of any of it. Her hand slowly worked the small brush with the precision of an artist putting finishing touches onto fine detail of a painting. Ellah sensed each touch echo through Mai’s body. His lips became gray, yet he didn’t move any muscles on his face.

Finally, Odara Sul put the brush away, closed the vial and tucked it back into her belt. Then she moved her long, deft fingers around the wound, closing it. The sticky liquid covering the flesh kept the wound edges together, like glue. She made several passes over it, until all that was left on Mai’s cheek was a narrow, winding scar. And then–

Ellah could scarcely believe her eyes. As Odara’s fingers moved, smoothing out the wound, the scar
disappeared
. Its edges grew together, healing until there was only a pink line in the place of a recently open wound. And then, the pink subsided into white, and all that was left was the smooth skin of his cheek.

The scar wasn’t there anymore. There was no trace of the recent wound on Mai’s face. Only his blood-caked hair spoke of the predicament he had been in, just a short while ago.

Odara Sul drew away, surveying the results of her work with satisfaction. Then she took out a wet cloth and wiped Mai’s cheek, careful to remove all traces of the strange substance.

“You may let him go,” she told Ellah.

Ellah nodded and dropped away her hands. She felt almost as exhausted as Mai looked. She sat and stared at his face, fresh and smooth as if there never was a wound. Tears blurred her eyes, but she had no will to blink them away.

Mai raised his hand, running his fingers along the skin, first lightly, then pressing down searchingly. His eyes met Odara’s with wonder.

She smiled. “This is my best one yet. All because you didn’t move a single muscle on your face. How did you manage that, Aghat?”

He smiled back, his face slowly acquiring faint traces of color.

“Clearly,” he said, “you don’t know much about Majat training, do you?”

Odara slowly got to her feet and shook the dust off her skirt. “Let’s go back. King Evan and Mother Keeper must be worried about us.”