The King's assassin

‘Take it off the fire,’ she said. ‘Let it cool for a minute. It’s nearly done now. It’s very good for a first time.’

And how would you know that? But now there was another distraction: two soldiers at the door, men in shiny silver breastplates and long skirts made of leather strips covered in a deep green lacquer. They were the same soldiers he’d seen in Deephaven on Radek’s ship, and between them stood a silhouette in gleaming white. A woman, slender and slight. He couldn’t stop looking. In another world she could have been Tasahre.

‘You need to put the blood in now,’ said Gelisya in a matter-of-fact voice. Berren nodded, struck dumb, took the cup from Talon and did as he was told. She was right, he knew that. How old was she? He tried to look at her and found he couldn’t meet her eyes.

‘What’s he done to you?’ he whispered, as much to himself as to Gelisya.

‘He showed me the hole in the world,’ she whispered back. She stepped closer and touched Berren’s face and then jumped away as if he’d stung her. ‘Oh! It’s you!’ Her eyes went wide. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you were inside! How did you get here?’ Her bottom lip began to quiver as though she was about to burst into tears. Then a blankness passed across her face and her voice changed, went back to flat and toneless. ‘You need to let it cool down. It goes into more of a paste when it’s ready. You fill his mouth and his nose with it so he can’t breathe. You bring him to the brink of death, you see, to drive the bad spirit out. You have to stay with him. You’ll see it when it comes. Then you have to take the paste all out again so he can breathe. You have to do that quickly — and give him lots of water! He’ll probably be sick a lot for a while and then he’ll be better.’

‘What do you mean “It’s you”?’ he asked. ‘Who?’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t realise. For a moment I didn’t know who you were but now I do. You’re Berren. You took me away from the bad wizard. I have to go now.’ She skipped away towards the door. Berren made to go after her but he was too slow and the soldiers barred his way while Gelisya slipped between them. Took me away. Not rescued, but took me away.

‘Come back!’ he called.

The woman in white pushed between the soldiers. She was robed and veiled and she slapped him in the face. The soldiers stepped away and Berren heard a sharp intake of breath from one of them. He stood there, mute and confused. The woman slapped him again. ‘You bastard,’ she hissed. ‘What do you creatures want with her? She’s just a girl! You make me sick, both of you!’ Berren caught a flashing glimpse of her eyes beneath her veil and the venom glittering within them, and then she turned and walked quickly away.

14

THE LASH AND THE ELIXIR OF LIFE

‘Hey!’ Berren stepped forward but the soldiers stood in his way until she was gone. Behind him, Talon let out a long and exasperated sigh.

‘Now I have to find Meridian, except since he and everyone else who matters are off hunting somewhere, I suppose it’ll have to be my retard half-brother.’

‘What?’

Talon came to stand beside him. ‘You’re not from these parts. I keep forgetting. But you can’t stand for that. Even if you wanted to, you can’t.’ He shook his head. ‘Not from a bondswoman.’

‘What do you mean? What’s a bondswoman?’

Now Talon looked at him in wonder. ‘How long were you in Kalda? The ones in white, they’re all bonded men or women. Do you not have slaves in Deephaven?’

‘No.’

‘Well the sun-king doesn’t hold with them either, but this far from Caladir no one much cares. In Kalda the likes of Meridian call them bondsmen and bondswomen, but slaves is what they are. People who have been bought. Who are owned and traded and sold as if they were property. The children and family of debtors mostly. Although of course the merchants of Kalda have acquired some very inventive definitions of debt when it comes to the Taiytakei. The city sells its unwanted to the slavers, the Taiytakei train them and return them. In Kalda the guilds lend money to rich men to buy their “freedom.” Then the loans are called in, the debt is passed on to the man who is now “free” and of course cannot be paid, and in the blink of an eye and the flash of a writ, a freed slaves become bondsmen. It’s the same thing but with a different name.’ Talon snorted. ‘Aimes. That will be interesting. Excuse me, but as head of the visiting party I must now find our hosts and inform them that their property has offended one of my household.’ He sighed, irritated. ‘Since you’re not a bondsman yourself, the proper response would be to allow you to punish her by whatever means you see fit. What on earth did you say?’

Berren shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’ He was still trying to remember what Gelisya had said about the potion.

‘Ah well.’ Talon snapped his fingers and muttered something. ‘The usual punishment is a flogging. If you wanted to you could ask to have her executed but I’d rather you didn’t. I don’t wish to offend King Meridian by killing a favoured bondswoman, if that’s what she is.’ He shook his head. ‘Stupid woman. She can’t possibly have thought she’d be allowed to get away with something like that. Someone put her up to this to test us.’ He turned and let out a heavy sigh. ‘You’ll have to wield the lash yourself. Ever flogged anyone before? I don’t suppose you have.’

‘No! And I don’t want to.’ Berren shook his head. ‘I’ve seen enough of that. I don’t even know who she was.’ He went back into the gloom of the shed and looked at the potion in the pot. It was thickening nicely. Talon clapped him on the shoulder but his voice stayed hard.

‘Whoever she is, it has to be done. No one will despise you if you choose to go easy on her, but she is Meridian’s property and she has struck a guest, a Fighting Hawk, and what you do now reflects on me. If you make yourself look weak or cruel or stupid, you make us all look that way. You will put her to the lash because that is the law, but no need to be harsh. Ten strokes will do and you may be soft with your hand, although not too soft. I’m sure after two years at sea you know how.’ Talon looked away, glancing down at the congealing mess in the pot on the floor. ‘Is that ready yet?’

Berren shrugged. ‘It has to cool. Not long.’

‘But soon, yes?’

‘Yes.’

Talon looked pleased. ‘We can leave tonight then.’ He glanced at Tarn. ‘Do you need any more help with him?’

‘No. At least I don’t think so.’

‘Then I’ll see you’re left undisturbed until you’re needed.’ He walked out into the sunshine leaving Berren alone in the shadows and the gloom. Berren sat next to Tarn while the potion cooled. Why? Why did he have to whip someone if he didn’t want to? He could hardly blame anyone for hating what he was doing. It was magic, dark magic. Warlock magic. Magic that wasn’t meant to be used.

The potion cooled into a paste as Gelisya had said it would. Without thinking much about what he was doing, Berren prised Tarn’s mouth open and forced in as much as would go. What was left he pressed into Tarn’s nose. I’m probably killing him, he thought, but he did it anyway. When he was done, he watched and waited. Ten seconds passed, then twenty. Tarn twitched. Thirty seconds. Suddenly Tarn arched. Convulsions shook his body. A thin black mist began to form around his face.

‘I can see it! He’s almost ready,’ said a voice behind him, quiet yet ripe with excitement. Gelisya again, and maybe that meant the soldiers and the slave woman too, but Berren didn’t dare look around. He watched as Tarn bucked and spasmed and then went still.

‘I wanted to see,’ said Gelisya. ‘I’ve never seen it work before.’

Berren hardly heard her. Tarn wasn’t moving now, and all he could think was that he’d killed his friend. He forced open Tarn’s mouth and frantically clawed at the paste, flinging it out again.