Tyrant Trouble (Mudflat Magic) (21 page)

Nance
ignored his offering.

“The
Daughter rejects all gifts from those who refuse her small requests.”

“How
can I know this is truly the Daughter's request?” Tarvik demanded.

“The
Daughter sent me a vision of the magician speaking with the templekeeper,”
Nance chanted. “Do you question my visions, son of Kovat, faithful servant of
the Daughter?”

Tarvik
thrust out his lower lip. We waited.

At
last he said, “What if the magician harms the templekeeper or - or anyone? My
father's anger will be toward me.”

Nance
repeated the answer I had given her. “If he could do harm, he would have
escaped by now. The Daughter knows the courage of brave Tarvik exceeds the
powers of the magician.”

Of
course we won. We knew we would. Had we argued with Tarvik in the courtyard,
dressed in tunics, our faces unpainted, he might have held out against a cousin
and a stranger. But here in the musty shadows of the hanging lamps, overseen by
the portraits of his father's gods and faced by two fully costumed priests of
the Daughter, he could drag his feet a bit, but had to give in to Nance's
demands.

Wish
I could have had such power over the magician. With a pouch of food hidden
under my cape, I followed an escort guard back to the castle, then through a
creaking metal gate, then down a winding stone staircase into the damp smell of
basement.

Backed
into his cell, the magician faced me with the defiant hatred of a captive who
knows where to place the blame. As the guard closed the door behind me, I began
to doubt my judgment. Why had I thought I could gain information from this man?
I had outdone him in front of a powerful warlord, taken his one chance at
freedom. His gaze followed mine around the cell.

“Not
pretty, is it? Soon Kovat will tire of you, too, and you will find yourself
entombed in a like place.”

Mold
sketched odd patterns on the stone walls. Light filtered through a grate far
overhead. The cell, a man's height in width and depth, was beneath a courtyard
of the castle, reached by twisting narrow stairs and foul-smelling corridors.
The magician had no comforts of sheepskins or bench, only the earth floor, cold
and hard beneath his body at night.

Remembering
the bribe, I drew the pouch of food from the folds of my cape and held it out
to him. He accepted it, his bony fingers curling like talons around it. I
waited while he ate the cheese. The bread he concealed beneath his tunic before
handing back Nance's pouch.

“I
accept your gift but I owe you nothing in return,” he said.

“Whatever
you give me, you give to protect yourself,” I said.

“Why
is that?”

“Your
life depends on Kovat's whim. I can probably gain a favor or two from him. Once
in command, the lady Ober will have no use for me. Then you'll lose me as your
one chance out of here.”

“Why
should you help me? It was you who destroyed me.”

“No.
No, I didn't. You destroyed yourself. You didn't have good answers for Kovat's
questions.” My words were brave enough but I still wasn't going to look in his
eyes. Hypnotism is funny stuff, nothing I have ever understood or been willing
to try. It can be shot through with bad magic.

“What
is it you want?”

“I
saw something I hope you can explain to me.”

“Why
should I do that?”

“Because
I don't know what is planned. Maybe the overthrow of Kovat's son. Maybe the
destruction of all of us.”

He
squatted in a corner and turned his face to the wall. Hunched up, his thin
hands and feet protruding from his tunic, he looked old and sick and defeated.
“This matters not to me. One ruler will entomb me, another will behead me.
Where is the difference? A quick death might be easier.”

“Is
there nothing I can offer you?”

“A
way out,” he whispered against the stones.

“I'll
do what I can when Kovat returns but there's no way to help you escape now.”

He
glanced up. I turned my eyes away.

“Would
you help me if you could?”

“In
return for the right information, why not? Your captivity is no use to me.” And
that was true. He was a weak, weary old man, separated from friends and home.
If let go, he would disappear into the mountains. He'd want freedom far more
than revenge.

“I
could tell you how to free me.”

True,
I wasn’t scared of a sickly old man, but what about Kovat when he returned? If
he discovered I had helped the magician escape, and Kovat had an unpleasant
ability to know exactly whom to suspect of what, what would happen to me?

While
I worried that through, I nodded. “Go ahead, tell me.”

“I
could tell you the contents of drugs to add to the drinks of the guards that
would make them sleep through any sound. You could steal past them and release
me.”

“And
when they woke up they could hack me to death.”

“Make
your own choice. Whatever you want of me must be paid for with my freedom.”

The
guard rapped his sword hilt against the outer surface of the cell door. I
called to him to wait a moment longer. Then I told the old man what I had heard
and seen in Ober's chamber.

“I
know her magic,” he said. “I know those signs and powders she uses. When I am
out of this place I will tell you what it means.”

“Tell
me quickly and I will try to get you out.”

“Later
will be beyond caring, dark woman. I am weary to the brink of death and you
have not much longer. Now I will tell you how to mix the drug to overcome the
guards. Make your choice when you wish. But if you hope to save yourself, you
had better choose soon. What Ober mixes can be fatal. She learned from a
deathwalker.”

He
had barely time to tell me the leaves I must grind and simmer and add to a
drink for the guards. First, grinding coffee beans is the limit of my culinary
skills. Second, his mixture might be deadly. I think we both knew I wasn't
going to do it.

The
guard knocked again, opened the door, and said it was time leave.

I
had no more than returned to the temple courtyard when Nance attacked me with
questions. “What did he do? How did he speak? What are the cells like? Did he
cast a spell on you? Did he tell you what you need to know? Will he help us?”

I
described the prison cell with its shaft of light entering through the ceiling
grill. She clapped her hands and exclaimed, “Yes, I know where that is! The
grill opens to a small courtyard so the guards can check on the prisoner from
above. Did he tell you what you sought?”

I
told her his bargain.

Nance
shrieked, clapped her hands over her mouth and stared at me, her eyes wide
above her crossed fingers.

“He
said Tarvik's life lay in Ober's hands.”

“Do
you believe him? Is he lying to gain his freedom? If you help him, you will
destroy yourself, Stargazer. Promise me you will try no such madness.”

I
nodded. I'm not suicidal. For now we were safe enough. And who could know what
might occur. Maybe my suspicions were wrong. Better yet, maybe bad weather
would change Kovat's plans and he would return before Ober attempted whatever
she was up to.

“Nance,
what exactly is a deathwalker?” I asked and waited patiently for her to go
through her usual series of screams and threats after which I added, “The
magician warned me against the deathwalker.”

“The
magician? The magician said that? Oh Stargazer!”

“So
tell me, what exactly is a deathwalker?”

“I
don't really know. I only know the tales Lor tells. Some say that man can kill
you with a touch. Some say he is already dead. Some say his soul is gone, that
he traded it to an evil god.”

None
of her explanations matched anything I knew about. The magician of Thunder was
little more than an old man with a few stage tricks. So probably the
deathwalker was also overrated, a man who once murdered someone under odd
circumstances, creating rumors about himself.

While
Nance fussed around me, I drew a circle on a tabletop. As I did not know an
hour, all I could use was the day Kovat had given me. That meant placing the
sun on the morning horizon of the deathwalker’s chart and hoping it showed a
message from that spot. I knew from memory the placement of the slower planets.
I added them. After what I had felt in Ober's chart, I didn't want to do his
horoscope and certainly I didn't want to touch it.

Nance
leaned against the table. “What do you see in your magic circle?”

“Nothing
much, little more than I saw in the charts of Erlan and Kovat, but then, this
one not only lacks the moon and near planets, it lacks the placement of time.”

“You
sound like my chants. Your meaning is clouded.”

“It
is,” I sighed. “I hoped for some clear message but there isn't one.”

Turning
to look at her, I dropped my hand to the table for support. “When can we get
out of these robes?”

A
shock of cold ran through my hand. I stumbled back.

“Stargazer?
You look pale. Are you faint?”

I
stared at the circle. The sun. His heart. I had touched it.

“Nothing
but cold,” I whispered.

“You're
cold? Shall I make you some tea?”

“No.”
I didn't know what to tell her, disbelieving what I felt. Not the pits of the
earth, not the swirling horror of Ober's heart. Something worse. Slowly, not
wanting to do it at all, I reached out my hand and pressed my palm over the sun
in the deathwalker's chart. “It's cold, his heart is a piece of ice.”

“That's
no surprise. Notice how the other guards avoid him? He is wicked, that's
certain, and I think they fear him.”

“Worse
than that.” I continued to press my palm to the table. If I had not felt the
cold I would have thought there was simply nothing to feel. This business of
heartbeats baffled me. Yet I felt them every time I touched the sun in a
horoscope. I had felt the pounding of Erlan's heart, the lighter rhythm of the
hearts of Ober and Alakar. “His heart is frozen. Not cold, frozen. No
heartbeat, no pulsing, nothing.”

“And
that means?”

“What
does it mean, you tell me what it means when a heart does not beat.”

Her
eyes widened and she paled. “I told you, Stargazer, I told you. The man is
dead. He has no soul. And his heart no longer beats.”

“Which
is why he is called a deathwalker?”

Nance
shrieked, “I hate this! Don't tell me more! I don't want to know!” She ran out
of our rooms and back toward the altar room, and while I stood staring at the
circle, I heard her banging around with the candlesticks. I waited. She calmed
down enough to return.

“We
have to warn Tarvik. Ober mentioned Kovat's death. It may be only a wish on her
part, but still, Tarvik needs to know.”

“How
can he beware of an unknown danger?”

I
shrugged. “Distance, maybe. He could make himself unavailable? Avoid her and
stick close to his guards?”

“Impossible.
Guards could protect him from an attacker with a dagger, but magic? Also,
Tarvik must dine with his guests. He can do no less as host.”

Hadn't
thought about the etiquette among the unwashed. “Could he pretend to be sick
and stay in his room?”

“If
Ober seeks to harm him, that would give her an opportunity. She could claim to
bring him healing potions and instead poison him.”

“I
don't think she wants him dead until he's married to Alakar. But she might have
a potion to make him obey her. Maybe he needs you or me at his side to slap his
hands if he tries to drink stuff he shouldn't? Or better, we claim the Daughter
wishes us in attendance to cure him with our constant prayers?”

She
moaned. “How easily you expand the duties of the temple. And how is Tarvik
supposed to know your plan?”

“How
about I go secretly tonight to warn him?”

“Not
without me.”

After
considerable arguing I was forced to accept, once again, this kid could at
times be stronger and more stubborn than myself. What would Tarvik think, after
showing me the secret door and telling me he trusted me, if I popped up in his
room from the passageway entrance and brought along Nance?

“No
one knows of this passage, not even my father,” he had said, and put my fingers
on the touchstones so that I could use the passage. “I trust you,” he had said.

If
I was not so sure Ober planned to damage the guy, I would never break that
trust. Now I had to balance his anger against my fear for his safety.

I
told Nance, “He is going to hate me for this. But that's better than letting
her drug him.”

“Better
for all of us,” Nance pointed out. “If Ober gains control, Stargazer, you'll
end up roommates with the magician.”

That
was a yukky thought.

That
night Nance and I, wrapped in dark cloaks like cat burglars and led by a protesting
Lor, crept from the stable and moved silently in the shadows of the shrubs and
outcropping rocks.

We
left Lor at the trees near the castle wall to wait for us. I didn't have to
tell him about the secret entrance. He was well aware of the sliding door into
the stable and he wasn't dumb. Sure, he would have figured it out. He wouldn't
tell.

We
were a stone's throw from the castle when we were challenged. The voice was
sharp, dry, inhuman, put it all together and my closest description is that it
sounded like a magnified scrape of bones.

“Who
goes there? Identify yourself.”

Grabbing
Nance's shoulder, I pulled her down flat on the ground and lay with an arm over
her, did a whole lot of very soft whispering. “Shhh.” Because I figured he
could probably hear us breathe.

Lor's
deep voice announced loudly, “Me. The stable keeper.” Lor seldom raised his
voice, so the noise was to warn us and to cover up any sound we made.