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"Death is no escape." I didn't look at it but I saw. I'd never imagined anything so evil as what had been done to this spirit. "You may end up serving me thus, if all else fails. Jerek, tell me his weakness," he commanded the child.
The ethereal child moved close to me, chilling me as it touched and then faded away with a new word coming softly to my ears. "Love, master. Love is his weakness." With that the spirit child was gone.
"Then we must find what you love, and control it," Kukran Epthel said softly. "Take him away."
They took me back to the same room, now empty. I paced the chamber, exploring. There was a window and a balcony, light streamed in from cool day beyond and I stepped out into it. For the first time in I didn't know how long I felt a cool, fresh breeze, saw the sun and the sky. Leaning on the balcony rail I looked out over a courtyard. It was almost a thirty foot drop to paving stones that would break my legs for sure. Directly opposite my window beyond the courtyard was an open archway not more than sixty yards distant. In the courtyard and on the flat roofs of the wings to either side there were barbarian warriors on guard. Not much chance of escape. I counted them. Two on each roof. Two at the gate. Two in the courtyard. Other people came and went, some warriors, some soldiers, many civilians, but two guards paced the courtyard, back and forth against the walls, endlessly. Eight guards to watch me climb down and capture me at the bottom. That was if I could climb down. I looked up. Two more stories and a flat roof where there were doubtless more guards. Looking back down, I watched the guards for a while. They were alert, attentive, focused. Maybe at night it would change, I thought, and resolved to look then. For now I enjoyed the freedom of the balcony, the warmth of the sun on my face, the cool breeze drifting across my skin.
I knew now where I was. It was Undralt, as I had supposed. I did not recognize the town but the terrain beyond. I knew where I was now. And I knew that men of the city would be coming to free me. Orthand was out there somewhere, with a legion. And the city was doubtless raising more legions to come and reclaim the north, to put down this enemy and reclaim these lands. They would have a fight on their hands, though; beyond the city walls lay an army encamped all around. Thousands of men. I didn't count, just soaked up the spread of the vast encampment and guessed. Thirty thousand, plus those billeted in the town itself. They would have a fight on their hands, but four legions would be more than enough, and the city could raise those numbers in days. Maybe they already had. Maybe they were already on their way, marching up the north road as we had, yet in numbers sufficient to the task.
The patrons and highest ranking members of the colleges had stone of twenty and thirty carats and more and the knowledge to use them. Nothing could stand against us for long. If four legions were not enough then the patrons would lead eight north. Time would see us prevail and the city would go on. In the meantime I had my own problems to deal with, some of them mental and emotional. Love is his weakness. What on earth did that mean? I didn't love anyone; apart from my mother and sisters, of course. But he was hardly going to send an invitation for them to join us. And even if they were threatened I would not join forces with something as revolting as Kukran Epthel, self styled king, lich, a walking corpse that pretended to virtue. Not wholeheartedly.
I sighed and turned to re-enter my prison. No mistaking it for anything else. Then I hastily turned back. A face had seeped into my awareness but not disturbed my train of thought. I looked again, seeking amongst the people I could see. Looking for the face that had come to mind. Then I found him and shook my head in despair. A one-eyed ugly man with burns on one side of his face and a scar on the other. It was Meran. One of the guards in the square was my freedman, Meran. He saw me. Looked for only a second, then turned away, indifferent. Was everyone I knew destined to serve my enemy? With a heavy heart I turned my back and went into the room. I didn't want to see any more.
The smell of food had a.s.saulted me as soon as I had walked into the room but until now I had been ignoring it. Roast beef, a rich gravy, vegetables. I was hungrier than I had ever been in my life but I didn't trust the food. Thirst and hunger warred in me for a while as I stood over the table trying to think. If it was drugged, what difference did it make? If I didn't drink I would die. Thirst was a pain in my throat and mouth. I needed to drink but still I held back and thought. Tried to think. They could have forced water into me when I was unconscious. If they wanted to drug me I would be drugged. Accepting the rationalization, I gave in, grabbed the pitcher of water and drank. It felt wonderful. Later I ate and slept. There seemed nothing else to do for the moment. I would have to wait and see what their next gambit was before I countered it.
In the dream - I knew it was a dream, it had that quality and I recognized it at once - Jocasta came to me.
"Sumto? Can you hear me?"
"Of course I can hear you," I said turning to her.
We were standing in a garden. I didn't recognize it.
"Don't be afraid," she said. "I am here."
"No need to be afraid in a dream."
She smiled and I realized she was pretty. Not that I had not always thought so, but that at that moment I realized that I wanted her and always had, though she had been even younger than her sister when she and I were betrothed. Orelia and I would have been married when she was sixteen if her family had not changed their minds about me. Orelia had been fourteen when we met, and Jocasta only twelve.
"This is not a dream, Sumto. I am really here and so are you, though that is not what I meant."
It didn't seem to matter much what she was saying, I was detached, warmly appreciating her presence and her voice. "What do you mean?"
"I am here. Nearby. Not more than a mile from you."
I smiled. "No. You are safe in the city and I am glad of it."
She shook her head, coming close, smiling. "I am here, nearby, and this is not a dream."
"Kukran Epthel sent you, didn't he." I was suddenly angry. "Jerek told him that you were the one I love and he is seeking to use you against me, or your image, for I know you are not really here. And neither am I. This place does not exist except in my delusional mind. They drugged me, didn't they?"
"Oh, my dear sweet man, what did they do to you?"
Through gritted teeth I answered. "You already know the answer to that."
She reached up and touched my face, standing close. I did not seem able, or willing, to move. "I do not, and I need to know what they intend. How can I help you if I do not know what they are trying to do?"
I wanted to take her into my arms, hold her, and tell her nothing of what I had been through or what I knew would be my fate. I wanted her safe, back in the city, not here were they could find her... but no. This was not real. This illusion would not hold me. "This is a trick." I stepped back.
"Sumto, you must listen to me. I am a sorceress of no mean ability. I can help you if you let me."
"Sorceress? You are a child. Talk sense if you are going to try and fool me. Try a little harder!"
She sighed, I thought she was trying to hold onto her temper. "I am eighteen and no child, I a.s.sure you. I am what I say I am, and I can help you."
"Lies," I stepped back. "It takes years to learn sorcery, time and money. No family would spend money teaching a woman sorcery, let alone a girl." I turned and walked away, closing my eyes and fighting the dream.
My will prevailed, the scent of the ethereal garden faded and she was gone, her parting words fading away as the dream disintegrated into darkness, "No one taught me, I ..."
When I woke, Sheo was sitting at the table, waiting for me.
"Sumto," he greeted me with courtesy.
I didn't answer, but swung round and sat on the edge of the bed to look at him.
"You should serve him, he is righteous, his cause just," he came right to the point.
Shaking off sleep I replied calmly. "That's why he tortures people, because he is so righteous. That's why he tricks people because he loves the truth."
He ignored me. "Can't you see the city we served is selfish and wrong? We take and take, whatever we want, whenever we want it, use it and discard it and take it again."
I gestured out the window, "And what is he doing?"
"Taking back."
"So we are two children fighting over a sweetmeat."
"No, he is an adult taking from an older, bigger child and giving back to a younger and more vulnerable child."
I didn't answer him, my attention wandering over the table, something was attracting my attention. There was a large jug of beer and two gla.s.ses. Sheo leaned forward and poured a gla.s.s. "For you?"
"No." It was harder to say than I remembered from my drinking days.
He shrugged. "You will drink it later, no doubt."
"You drugged me."
"Yes. In the water; a drug that lowers your resistance to addiction. There was also a tiny dash of wine, just to get you started. You are already a drunk, everyone in the city knows that. It does nothing on its own, of course, but now we can feed you any drug we like. We decided to start with alcohol. I know you like it, are you sure you won't take a sip?"
"I'm sure." Getting up and walking away was probably the hardest thing I have ever done. I could smell the hops, the living yeasty scent pulling at me. I made it to the window, and out onto the balcony. I wanted to throw myself over onto the hard flagstones below, but I couldn't do it. Yes, I liked booze. Beer, wine, that western drink they distill... whiskey, it was fiery and harsh but warmed the belly nicely. Yes, I like my booze all right. They had found a weakness. Another way to alter my state of mind and make me more malleable. I gripped the rail, acutely aware of its texture, and looked out over the courtyard thinking only about my waiting beer.
There was just no way this was going to end well.
A few days pa.s.sed in a drunken blur. I struggled against the booze but it was pointless, and after a while I stopped struggling. There wasn't really any point. Every day Sheo came and talked to me, laughed with me, told me stories and tried to get me to tell him things I didn't know.
I really was a useless sorcerer. I knew a few tricks at the one carat and below level. Nothing. I had never spent the money on the spells and never had the money for the larger stones. Yes, my family had much larger stones but no way they would let me get my hands on them. I would sell them for drink. That thought made me laugh. Later in the day it would make me cry. I was a drunk. What did anyone expect?
The mist wasn't anything to do with being drunk. At least I didn't think it was. It was hard to tell. As it began to clear, swirling more thinly around me, I began to see hints of bushes, flashes of color through the mist that might be flowers.
"Sumto?"
"Wa.s.sit?" I spun around and the garden spun with me, flowers flas.h.i.+ng by. I stamped one foot down to get my balance and stood there, concentrating on keeping upright.
"Sumto?"
The voice came from behind me so I slowly turned around. And there she was.
"Can you hear me?" She sounded urgent, concerned.
"'Causican." I gave her a big grin, threw my arms wide, "Jess'ca!"
"Jocasta," she stepped toward me, puzzled.
"Jecazta, 'sright! h.e.l.low!"
Her pretty face creased into a frown as she stopped a couple of paces away. "You're drunk!"
It took me a while to formulate a reply. "I am," I told her at last. "V'ry v'ry drunk. Bu' ish nomifalt."
She blinked a couple of times, shaking her head. "It's what?"
"No mi faul'"
She shook her head, disbelieving her senses. Did she have senses? In a dream? I stared blearily about, staggered a step. Maybe in an illusory place you had illusory senses. That triggered a thought and I tried to explain it at once. "Of cau'se, iyusyryspefam!"
"What?! Sumto! Did they do this to you? How... why are you drunk?!"
"Drugz," I swayed a bit but caught my balance. "Gimmi drugz."
"What?! You want drugs?!"
I shook my head violently, lost my balance and fell over. As I lay on the ground looking up at her and trying to stand she faded a little, turning her head and said, "To h.e.l.l with this, I'm getting him out of there."
Someone answered her, it was just a sound, nothing I could understand, recognizably a voice but nothing more. She turned back and looked at me. "I'm coming for you."
I giggled. "B'beddafwimmi," this struck me as unspeakably funny and I laughed like a drunk.
She shook her head and moved away without moving, or so it seemed, I could hardly see for laughing, then the garden was gone.
I'd forgotten what h.e.l.l a bad hangover can be. I couldn't even say 'never again' because I was looking at a jug of beer and thinking how much better I'd feel after I had had some. And it was true, that's the h.e.l.l of it. I would have drunk some water instead but there was none. It all came down to how long I could hold out against the drink, and I didn't feel it would be long.
Sheo was sitting at the table too, looking at me and waiting.
"Why are you doing this?" I asked him. "I don't know any magic worth talking about."
"Well that's a lie, and we both know it." He fished into his pockets and brought out my sorcerer's loupe. "You don't have one of these unless you are a student, so I'm guessing you are an enrollee of the college of battle mages, a wealthy student, not an acolyte.."
I stared at the d.a.m.ning loupe. I didn't want to tell him how I had really come by it. "That's not mine."
"Sumto, why lie? It was found in the saddle bag of a brown mare with scar on her face. Your mare. I checked. I talked to the man who found her. It was a while before it came to light of course, they had no idea what it was, some cheap bauble magnifying gla.s.s. They thought it was funny, making things bigger. It had changed hands several times, purchased, gambled. It took me a while to trace it back to you, but I did. I'm glad your horse was so marked by that scar or I might never have found out it was yours." He tucked the loupe away. "I have already enjoyed the use of it."
There was nothing I could say. Tell him the truth, the full truth? He wouldn't believe me. Well, they would find out soon enough. The booze was going to break me, especially when they took it away, as I knew they would. The very thought made me reach for the beer, protectively. They wouldn't take this beer away.
Maybe I could drink myself to death if I was quick about it.
I was on the bed. It was moving but I couldn't.
Luckily long experience has taught me to sit up, well propped with pillows, when I feel like this. A less experienced drinker would lie down and promptly throw up. I was tempted to do that, lie on my back, throw up and then breath in, but I wasn't drunk enough, or maybe I was too drunk to actually physically move. It was hard to tell. I had something important on my mind. Illusory spell forms. Thank G.o.d I had told Jocasta - if she was real, which I doubted - but then I doubted my own sanity let alone anything else. Illusory spell forms. It was brilliant. Genius. If a shaman called a spirit to watch, a sorcerer could then create spell forms - not real ones, but illusions that had the shape and form but didn't do anything - and the spirit could tell you what they would do if you made them in reality. If I was right about the nature of the perception of spirits, of course, and that was yet to be proven. But it would open up a whole new era of spellcasting research if I was right. Another good reason to die, I thought, and take the idea with me. At least the spirits could tell me if I was right. I giggled at the thought.
"'Snofunny," I admonished myself, waving a finger pointedly. "'ssherius."
I became fascinated with my finger, holding it in front of my face and turning it around, remembering them breaking it, and breaking it, and... I waggled it experimentally. "Worksnow. 'sgood." I turned it about again, looking at that one finger from every angle. I wondered how I would see it if I were a spirit. I wondered how soon I would find out. They didn't care if I died, they'd given me plenty of opportunity. They'd probably turn me into a zombie, lock up my spirit in dead flesh and interrogate me that way, or call my spirit back and enslave me as they had Jerek. That was a memory that wouldn't fade in a hurry. That poor, broken, pitiful child.
A tear dribbled down my cheek.
Death is no escape, he had said. I believed him. They didn't care if I died, not much. If I jumped out that window, the one with the shadowy figure in it... That was odd. I watched the apparition slide into the room. Wisps of fog drifted after him. It was the ghost of Sapphire come to show me the way. He put his finger against his lips. I had no intention of making a sound. There is no point in talking to a hallucination. Unless it was a ghost, of course. I could ask him about spell forms.
I laughed. He ignored me, taking a quick turn around the room, listening at the door, then heading back to where I lay propped up in bed, watching him. He crossed the room silently. Of course silently, spirits don't make any noise. No bodies. No noise. That's obvious.
He gestured for me to get up. I giggled and shook my head.
In death his eyes were just as I remembered them. Ice cold, to go with his glacial expression. "Get up, you fool," he hissed. "We have to go now."
I blinked blearily back at him, sure that spirits were not supposed to call people names or hiss at them. "You're alive!" I accused him "Hush, dammit. Get up."
I tried. When I didn't move fast enough to suit him he grabbed me by the s.h.i.+rt front and dragged me up. He was definitely real. He didn't look that strong. Though, to be fair, I had lost some weight.
He pushed his face close to mine. "Some of us are risking our lives for your drunken, no good, worthless carca.s.s, and some of us would appreciate it if you would cooperate a little bit!"
I nodded dumbly, chastened as only a drunk can be. A tear came to my eye and I told him I was sorry. Tried to give him a hug.
"Oh, for G.o.ds' sake," he seethed almost silently. "Come on." He half dragged me to the balcony.
It was foggy out. I couldn't see anything. I wanted a drink. "Beer." I started back in and he stopped me.