happened to her while she was in his care.
“I am well on the way to recovery.”
“You are sure it was the half-breed who attacked you?”
She nodded.
“I should have killed him back at the Serpent Tower,” Jaderac said.
“I seem to recall you gave it your best effort. The Nerghul was supposed to be invincible, yet somehow he survived it.”
“It was most likely Ilmarec’s sorcery. It followed him into the Tower after all.” Jaderac realised that somehow Tamara had taken control of the conversation and directed him away from the questions he wanted to ask. He shook his head. He was not going to allow that. He had too many suspicions about his companion. He wanted some answers.
“Why did he attack you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do, Tamara. Please don’t take me for one of those foolish young men whose brains turn to jelly when you bat your eyelashes at them.”
“Then use those brains you boast about. He suspected I was behind the Nerghul’s attack. He told me as much at Elakar’s ball. Perhaps he simply wanted revenge.”
“He does not seem like a stupid man. And performing such an act without his patron’s blessing would be folly bordering on madness.”
“Aren’t you the one who is always telling me that humans are driven by their glands? Perhaps he is foolish or mad.”
Jaderac sat down beside her bed. “Don’t you find it the least bit suspicious that a few days after Lord Elakar passes on to a better world, Asea’s pet attempts to abduct you?”
“I am not sure I follow you.”
“Why would she risk a diplomatic incident? Lord Azaar is not a Terrarch who would enjoy having his reputation besmirched. He has always been a stickler about points of honour.”
“Perhaps she did not expect me to escape.”
“I admit despite your many talents I am surprised that you managed it as well. By the way, where were you when Lord Elakar was killed?”
“Surely you do not suspect me of that?” Tamara’s smile had a vicious edge. She was glad he suspected, perhaps even proud of it. Could she really have managed the killing on her own? That particular killing made Jaderac think of sorcery far older and darker than most practised here on Gaeia. He studied her closely, taking in the resemblance to her father. Malkior had taught him many strange and sinister secrets. Perhaps he had passed on a few to his daughter. She had certainly demonstrated an uncanny talent for magic.
Perhaps she in touch with some of her father’s old allies. That seemed far more likely. Some of them were formidable indeed. Jaderac sensed he was sailing on dark waters here, and every instinct told him to be careful. He had his own plans, and Elakar’s death certainly played well towards those. He did not want anything happen to spoil things.
She picked one of the roses up from the vase at the side of the bed. “Be a dear and open those curtains. I would like to see sunlight, grey and wintry though it might be.”
He did so, although the task was one a menial should have performed. She smiled at him. “How goes your plan?”
“Very well. The Brotherhood’s lab is most useful. I have drained the ghouls of blood, and begun to work on the serums. My fellow necromancers in the Brotherhood have begun preparing the ground. Kathea’s coronation is going to be a most interesting event.”
“And you have succeeded in creating another Nerghul?” Jaderac looked at her. Was she mocking him? Did she know about the trouble he was having. He had followed the rituals precisely but the creature did not seem to want to wake. There was some flaw in the matrix. He must have missed something but he could not think what. There was still time, he told himself.
“It is almost complete. Do you have some special use for it in mind?”
Tamara looked up at the ceiling and smiled. “I am sure I can think of something,” she said.
“I see you arranged our getaway vehicle, Halfbreed,” said Weasel. He sat on a crate watching men load supplies on to the huge barge that was to take them to Harven. The rest of the men were in the nearby taverns, saying good-bye to families, sweethearts or favourite whores. It was a cold clear day and Weasel liked to sit outside and smoke his pipe.
“What do you mean?” Rik asked. He had come over as soon as he had seen the former poacher sitting there.
“Nothing, nothing at all. If that’s the way you and her Ladyship want it.” So Weasel thought this whole diplomatic mission was just a cover story to get them out of town, did he? Sometimes he was a little too cunning for his own good. Or maybe it was a cover. Rik was in no position to claim he knew all of Asea’s mind.
“I would not mention that too loudly if I were you.”
“A nod is as good as a wink.”
They studied the dockers. Most were short burly men who used hooks to move the supply crates and bales.
“Did not realise we needed so much cloth,” said Weasel, studying the rolls of fabric being moved aboard.
“We’re not the only cargo. I reckon the captain intends to make a profit on trading as well as carrying us.”
“Can’t say as I blame him. If I had thought of it, I would have done the same myself.” Rik would have been surprised if Weasel had not put some stuff aboard on his own account already but decided it would not be diplomatic to mention this.
“How long you reckon this is going to take?” he asked.
“Most of the folk I talked to reckon we’ll get there in a week. Providing we don’t have no accidents. Or we don’t run into any river pirates, or the odd rogue wyrm.”
“It would be a damn stupid bunch of bandits that attacked a ship carrying a squad of Foragers and Lady Asea.”
“Would be a damn stupid bunch of highwaymen that attacked a Terrarch noblewoman and her footmen. It still happened.”
Rik could see what Weasel was getting at. “You reckon we might have an accident.”
“I reckon there’s some might be out for a bit of revenge, and we’ll be moving through no-man’s land for a good deal of this trip.”
“Not strictly speaking true. The lands along the river are mostly held by Terrarch Aristals. Some have declared for one side or another but none of them will risk an attack on a boat flying the diplomatic flag in the winter season.”
“Bet Lady Tamara thought the same.”
“There’s something about her that has you spooked, isn’t there?”
“You’re right there, Halfbreed. Never thought a chit of a girl could have come so close to taking out the three of us. Three of us, Halfbreed, and we’re all of us hard, hard men.
“I’ve never seen a better man with a blade than the Barbarian, but he’s still got a scarf wrapped round that bull neck of his to hide the stab wound. A girl in a ball gown almost killed him with a knitting needle, and him with those butcher knives in his hands.”
Rik looked over his shoulder to make sure there was no one close enough to overhear what they were saying. He saw only a few more carts being drawn up. Dockers were loading a huge riverine bridgeback from them, but they were more than twenty yards away.
“There’s something else, isn’t there?” Rik said.
“You bet. There’s that shadow thing we saw. That was a product of black sorcery and no mistake.”
“It scared you?”
Weasel gave him a lop-sided grin that revealed sharp yellowish teeth. “Let’s just say it got me to
