Traitor's Blade

I suppose it’s worth mentioning that all throughout our fight, the bully boys kept up a steady stream of insults, inducements, threats and other invective, but none of it was very clever and I feel it would give them too much honour to bother repeating it. They had names, too, and I could describe their physical differences and fighting styles, but I’m not going to. It may be petty, but I don’t think these bastards deserve to be remembered.

 

As the rush of blood started to subside, I looked at the carnage in front of us.

 

‘Can I come closer now?’ Aline asked. As she came forward I expected her to be shocked by the sight of the bodies in front of her. Some were unconscious, but most were dead and lying in pools of blood. I was strangely reassured when she hunched over and vomited on the alley floor, but then she stood up, walked over to one of the bodies, pulled out my throwing knife and started cleaning it using cloth from the man’s shirt.

 

‘You don’t have to do that,’ I said as I put a hand on her shoulder.

 

She flinched, then pushed my hand away. ‘Someone has to do it. I can’t fight, so I may as well do this,’ she said.

 

I leaned back on the alley wall and slid down to the ground. I could have slept, right there, right in the middle of an alley strewn with corpses.

 

When she was done with cleaning the knives and replacing them in the bracer, the girl started to pick over the bodies.

 

‘Leave them be,’ I said, my voice thick with exhaustion. I forced my uncooperative legs to push me back up so that I could reassemble my rapiers.

 

‘I have no money, and they tried to kill me. The least they can do is pay for our supplies,’ she said. Brasti would’ve been proud.

 

But the men didn’t have much money to speak of. Aline showed me a handful of coins and a single silver bit. Their weapons were nothing special compared with what I already carried so I didn’t bother looking any further.

 

‘Can I take this?’ Aline asked. She held up one of the dead men’s hands to show me a small disc on the palm, a little larger than a caravaner’s silver mark. It was made of copper or bronze and attached by thin leather straps looped around his two middle fingers and thumb.

 

‘I don’t think it’s valuable,’ I said.

 

‘I know,’ she said defensively, ‘but it’s interesting and I like how it almost glows a bit when you rub your thumb on it.’

 

I was about to give in, but something started to itch at the back of my neck. I knelt down next to her and examined it more carefully. The disc had very faint markings on it, parallel lines with offshoots and curves, and a bit near the centre was shinier than the rest.

 

‘Look,’ Aline said. She pressed her finger on it and it grew shinier, as if it had just been cleaned in that spot.

 

I looked at it for a moment and then took her hand and replaced her finger with my own. Nothing happened. The spot near the centre was still shinier, but not as much as when Aline touched it. I took my finger off and held her hand above it. The spot looked ever so slightly brighter, and became more so the closer her hand came to it.

 

‘Shit,’ I said. ‘Magic. I hate magic.’

 

‘That’s silly,’ she said. ‘Why bother making a disc that just gets a bright spot when you touch it? Even the magic symbols look odd – just a bunch of lines.’

 

‘It gets brighter when it gets closer to you – and those markings aren’t “magic symbols”, they’re streets. Look—’ I pulled the disc from the dead man’s hand and we walked down to the end of the alley. The markings on the disc, barely visible to the eye, changed slightly.

 

‘It’s like a map!’ Aline said, clearly missing the salient problem.

 

‘It’s more than that,’ I said. ‘It’s a map that leads them straight to you.’

 

Shiballe and the Duke had a mage at their disposal: one powerful enough to create an amulet that could lead their men to us anywhere in the city. It was inscribed on cheap copper – you could make five for a penny. And people ask me why I hate magic.

 

*

 

We made our way further into the old city. I guessed we had a little time before Shiballe discovered that his bully boys had failed him and sent someone else after us. It was possible that he might send the entire City Guard after us, but Rijou is a bad place to do something like that, what with so many narrow, winding streets and so many other ways in and out of districts. And anyway, most of the Guard are otherwise engaged during the Blood Week, protecting the Duke’s favourites and harassing those unfortunates to whom he was less favourably disposed.

 

Still, the amulet bothered me.

 

I pulled it out to look at it again. As we’d only found the one, I wasted time on a faint hope that if two were close to each other, they might cancel each other out. Likely nonsense, of course. I’d taken to using it to get a quick overview of the streets and alleyways nearby. Old City wasn’t ideal from a hiding perspective, but since we didn’t have much in the way of other options, I was glad of one helpful feature: the buildings were stacked close together. I found a wall with enough protruding beams and bricks on the outside to make it possible to climb.

 

‘Why are we going up? Won’t it just make it harder to run?’ the girl asked.

 

‘The amulets show where we are, but not how high,’ I said as we neared the top. ‘They could be right underneath us and not realise it.’

 

She didn’t comment, but I suspected that was more from exhaustion than anything else.

 

We reached the top of the building. It was a full three storeys high, and afforded us what was doubtless a beautiful view of the city at dusk. I could see flames as at least two other noble houses about a mile away went up in smoke: the Duke’s friends at work, no doubt.

 

‘Where … now?’ Aline said weakly, collapsing onto the roof’s flat surface. I took a more serious look at her and saw that exhaustion was indeed overtaking her.

 

‘We try to keep to the rooftops when we can. When we can’t, we climb down just long enough to find another place to hide.’

 

Two days, I realised: we’d been on the move for two full days and neither of us had slept. The night before, she’d suffered the loss of her family. It was too much. I didn’t think she’d make another step.

 

‘Are there any noble houses who might give you protection?’ I asked, though I was pretty sure I already knew that answer.

 

With what looked like a real effort, Aline raised her head. ‘No. My nanny said we used to be a powerful family, but not any more.’

 

Supporting the King had never been a way to make friends in Rijou.

 

‘I met your father once,’ I said. ‘Lord Tiarren was a good man.’

 

Aline’s face was thoughtful, as if I’d said something unusual. ‘He was always kind to me,’ she said, ‘but I do not think he loved me as he did my brothers.’

 

‘Why do you say that?’

 

She paused again, as if looking for the proper words. ‘He was gentle, and he gave me fine gifts on my birthday. He spoke to me courteously, as he did my mother. But with my older brothers he was always more … proud.’

 

‘I …’ Damn. What do you tell a child? That fathers don’t always love their daughters as they should? That noble families want strong boys to lead their houses, not girls whose dowries must be paid? ‘I think if your father could see you right now he would be very proud.’

 

She gave a small smile, but it was a smile for me, not because of me. The exhaustion was overwhelming her.

 

I knelt down and reached into one of the inner pockets of my coat. I extracted a small package wrapped in silk. ‘Here,’ I said.

 

Aline took the package and unwrapped it, revealing the square of striped candy underneath.

 

‘What is this?’

 

‘We call it the “hard candy”,’ I replied.

 

‘Candy?’ She looked annoyed.

 

‘Just eat a tiny bit.’

 

She started to take a bite and I grabbed her arm. ‘Just a small piece,’ I said. ‘Just a taste.’

 

The girl looked confused, but she obeyed me and took just a tiny nibble from the corner. Then she made a face, and I thought she was about to spit it out.

 

I held my finger up. ‘Just wait.’

 

We sat for a few moments as the sky turned a little darker. Suddenly Aline leapt to her feet, eyes wide, tense as a cat staring down a pack of dogs.

 

‘How do you feel?’ I asked.

 

‘Like— Like I could run the length of the city, twice over,’ she replied, looking all around her. ‘I don’t feel tired at all – it’s like I just woke up!’

 

‘Try to keep steady and focused,’ I said. ‘It takes a while to get used to the hard candy.’

 

‘It’s all right – I’m fine. We can go now if you like.’

 

‘No, now I need to rest for a minute.’

 

She held out the package towards me, but I wrapped her hand around it. ‘You hang onto it. There isn’t much, and I try to avoid using it.’ When she looked at me quizzically, I added, ‘It’s good for keeping you awake, it’s good for running, it’s good for staying alive. But it’s not especially good for strategic thinking, or for swordwork.’

 

‘Then why—?’

 

‘We Magisters have to travel a long way, and sometimes, if we need to get somewhere quickly, we have to keep ourselves going for days – or, just as likely, get away from somewhere before we’re caught.’

 

Aline put the silk-wrapped package in her pocket.

 

‘Use it sparingly,’ I warned. ‘Too much at once can make your heart explode in your chest.’

 

The girl sat down next to me, though I knew it was hard for her to keep still now. ‘Why “hard”?’ she asked.

 

‘Hmm?’ I said, and only then realised I was starting to nod off. The sky was fully dark. We needed to get moving.

 

‘Why is it the “hard candy”?’

 

‘Because it’s not the same as the “soft candy”,’ I said, pulling out a still smaller package from another pocket.

 

‘So if the hard candy is for giving you energy, what’s the soft candy for then?’ she asked, reaching for it.

 

I pulled it away. ‘It’s for something else,’ I said. ‘It’s for something else entirely.’

 

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