Tivi's Dagger Page 10

  The bodies collapsed onto the ground, lifeless.

  I beat the fire out against my cloak, elated and terrified all at the same time. Lana leapt at me and smothered me in a hug. “Ned, you were marvelous! We owe you our lives.”

  And from behind I was crushed once more by the hugs of Kari and Kel. All of them showered praise upon me, which would have been wonderful to hear had it not been for the agony now blossoming on my blistering palm. I fixed a grin on my face for as long as I could bear it. Even my brother embraced me stiffly. “While I cannot approve of the use of magic, it was a brave thing you did, brother. What is wrong?”

  Unwanted tears began to spill down my face and I let out a stream of expletives. “What do you think is wrong? My fucking hand is burnt!”

  I almost expected Brin to begin chastising me for my use of ungodly language but mercifully, he did not.

  “Then I will fetch the salve,” Kari said. “You were wonderful, my Ned. I will see to your hand.”

  We moved inside. Such was my agony I didn’t notice if my brother had reacted to Kari’s endearments, and at that point I didn’t care what he thought. As Kari plastered the cooling cream onto my burn, I sighed with blissful relief and sagged into the armchair. Kel stoked the fire with trembling hands clutched tight around the poker. Lana knelt beside me, smiling widely.

  “If only we had a vintage worthy to toast such a feat! Ah, Ned, after so many years you surprise me yet, and it is wonderful. Such tales we will tell back at the Duck and Swan upon our return! Nedim the Summoner walks again, bane of Night Walkers and hero of the Thar Mati pilgrims. It will surely be worth a free flagon of the finest ale.”

  Now the pain had subsided greatly, I flexed my hand and gave a weak chuckle. “Kaldar will no doubt put me to work at summoning coins from the pockets of his debtors once more.”

  “You summoned coins from pockets?” Brin said, folding his arms. Thankfully my recent heroics had a stifling effect upon the sermon and possible whippings he would have given me for such a reckless admission. No doubt he would store it all away to be used in later beratings, and I was suddenly conscious of his judgmental gaze as Kari tended further to my hand, stroking more ointment over the burn.

  As the last of the terror and excitement gurgled away from my mind like dirty water down a drain, I felt suddenly exhausted. “Let us sleep,” I said as a jaw-splitting yawn forced its way out. “And hope there are no more interruptions. If I am forced to burn another hand, I will not be much company on this journey of ours.”

  “To the dawn then, my Ned.” Kari stood up, beaming, and went to prepare the blankets. Before I could say anything, my brother gave me an ominous look before retiring to his room.

  ***

  The next morning we were again awakened by another clattering at the door. Thankfully our visitor was not the risen dead but the new Keeper with an over-laden donkey and about twenty silver-clad warriors in tow. He was a man of middle age with a toothy scowl that he flashed at us as he looked about his new accommodation. As I scrambled to pack my bags once more, I listened to Kari engage the man in conversation. The Keeper’s voice was gruff and he did not seem overly joyous about his new station in life. The fresh-looking lines of misery on his face led me to speculate that his was a position often occupied by the newly single.

  He looked at us as if we were something unpleasant on the soles of his boots, but nodded a greeting of sorts. Kari was clearly explaining where things were about the hut and what had happened the previous night. As the new occupant listened, his scowl deepened but he gave me a nod of acknowledgement all the same. I felt some sympathy for the man, given the grisly fate of his predecessor.

  We did not eat breakfast, feeling uncomfortable about using up the few remaining foodstuffs right under the nose of the man they now belonged to. The warriors outside were no more friendly. Faces hidden behind swathes of silver, their eyes narrowed and they turned away as we led the donkey past them. Two of them broke from their ranks and accompanied us to the mouth of the cave, talking to Kari as the rest of us lagged behind. Only Brin seemed unfazed about the prospect of facing giant spiders in the dark. He had donned his armor once more and appeared much more like himself. In his hand he carried a branch with oiled strips of material wound round the tip: the torch which would light our way. I hoped he did not expect me to provide the flame.

  Flexing my hand — which was still blistered and stinging despite another application of Kari’s healing cream — I nudged Lana and pointed at the warriors, all of whom carried a dagger at one side of their belt and wooden tube at the other, presumably for shooting out their famed poison-tipped darts.

  “You would think these believers in love would be more open to the chance of it,” I said in a low voice. “Apart from Kari and the monks we first met, they have been a thoroughly unpleasant and unwelcoming people.”

  Lana laughed. “You’re right, Ned. I have not felt in engaging in any love with a single man we have met so far. Brindar’s Protector gear does us no favors either, and I wish he would stop wearing it. Perhaps they think him likely to commence some wearisome sermon at any moment. In any case, there seem to be few visitors so far into the country. It is an all too common thing, to dislike that which is unknown.”

  “If we were neighbors to the un-named lands,” Kel said, falling into step beside us, “we would likely be just as suspicious. We should be thankful that this nation is well-organized and armed enough to keep the warlords in check. Can you imagine Lis faced with such a threat?” He shook his head. “We would be overrun in no time by warlords and worse. It would be complete chaos.”

  “It is already chaos,” Lana said. “But you are right, Kel. We should be more grateful that Methar has stood so stoutly between us and even more dire threats than those we pose ourselves.”

  The mists had descended from the mountain caps once more, leaving the warm caress of the sun just a pleasant memory. The air had cooled and the trees were alive with birdsong. We passed a trap with an unfortunate rabbit caught inside, destined to be the Keeper’s first meal. Eventually we came upon the mouth of the tunnel and Brin went about forging some flame using some dry sticks. As I watched smoke begin to rise from where he was rubbing the wood together, Kari touched my elbow.

  I looked at him and remembered the sunshine. He was smiling, that wide warm grin that made my insides feel like melting ice. The back of my hand brushed against his as he stood waving the warriors goodbye. I struggled to overcome the urge to take him into my arms and kiss him silly. I cleared my throat. “What news did the warriors bring? You seem quite relaxed, despite what lies ahead.”

  “It is an odd thing, Ned. To realize that the world can be such a terrible, dangerous place and yet to be so happy.”

  I glanced into the darkness of the tunnel then back at Kari. “It certainly is.”

  “News, yes. The Agents of the Blood Red and their necromancers have been put to death and their foot soldiers routed. The warriors initially feared that this incursion may just have been a diversion from a more serious attack, but it’s not the case. It’s been clear for some time that the warlords are too busy battling each other to muster any serious threat to us.”

  “Thank the Thirteen,” Kel said. “So we will see no more of the Night Walkers, I pray.”

  “Not for now, if Matativi wills it. But the soldiers also spoke of something much more fearsome ahead, but wonderful all the same.” One of those wide, wonderful grins spread across his face. “A dragon has been spotted resting atop the mountain at Thar Mati.”

  Brin paused in his work. “What?”

  “A dragon, Brindar. Isn’t it marvelous? To think that we may be privileged enough to lay eyes upon such a creature!”

  Lana nudged me, beaming. “The one thing we never saw in all our travels!”

  My passion for travel reignited for a second. I grinned and gave her hand a squeeze. “Let’s hope it does not fly away before our arrival!”

  Kari turned to Brin. “A w
ord of caution, however. In your letter of introduction to our Temple, you did not mention that your brother is touched by magic, Brindar. It means that passing through Khar Tam may be riskier than I’d thought. I’d recommend that we return and take the longer path to avoid the place altogether, to spare Ned the ordeal.”

  I swallowed. “Ordeal?”

  Kari opened his mouth to elaborate but Brin cut him off gruffly. “We do not have time to go back,” he said. “Nedim’s magic is minimal and rarely used, and unless there are demons in the caverns there is little to fear.”

  “No demons,” Kari replied. “But —”

  “Then it’s settled. Dragon, demons, or no, we press on as planned. I appreciate your concern for our safety, Kari, but remember I was a Protector once and have faced down plenty who burn the black candles; not only them, but the demons they raised as well — foul creatures that sought to possess those cursed by magic as Nedim is. Even though it may always not be apparent, I love my brother, and will not see him harmed. Besides, we have days to prepare ourselves, and this wretched tunnel to endure before anything else.”

  I gazed at my brother with a dry mouth as he ground the sticks together against the head of the torch. It was, I conceded reluctantly, one thing that the Protectors had been good at: the suppression of demonic forces that would seek to control any person touched by magic. But then, if Brin did not appear too concerned about what would happen to me in the caverns, then perhaps it was because he believed I would be safe and trusted in his own abilities.

  Perhaps. It wouldn’t possibly be the case that my brother was in such a hurry that he would discount a dark threat to his own kin. Would he?

  Kari seemed to sense my worries and touched my hand with a reassuring smile. “Perhaps you’ll only feel the touch of the fae like a snowflake on your skin, as I did. In any case it is not a long way through the caverns, my Ned. There is no need to linger.”

  The torch lit, we ventured into the tunnel. Brin led the way, holding the light out in front and closely followed by Lana, daggers in hand. Kel led the dubious donkey in fits and starts, forced to stop regularly to tug and urge the beast along. The rock surrounding us was a mass of crudely cut smoothness of different shades of black and gray. The tunnel veered upwards in such a way that it was impossible to see the light at the end of it. There was no evidence of fallen travellers around, no skeletons or scraps of discarded gear. Reassuring myself at the thought of our fellow traveller — the woman with the huge hound — striding through undaunted, I was greatly cheered by the thought of the dragon, for they numbered so few that their very existence had almost passed into legend.

  The ground beneath our feet was slimy with moss. A stale wind from beyond cooled our cheeks. Water dripped from above us and as Brin flashed the torch this way and that, I observed with a shiver the dark recesses which shone with spider silk. As the darkness deepened, so the lines of silk grew thicker until they stretched from point to point almost like ropes. We slowed our pace, careful not to pluck them in case we stoked the hunger of their creators. There was a distant skittering noise but Kari assured me in a low whisper that these particular spiders and would surely shy away from the light and heat of the fire.

  Finally, the exit to the tunnel grew brighter before us and a breath of fresh wind bearing the scent of pine leaves lent a spring to my step. When we were finally outside, we blinked in the light and took stock of our surroundings. Ahead lay a fork in the road and a signpost, and to the right there was a dizzying precipice from where the alternative path wound its way to meet the one upon which we stood. All around us the mountains reared up into the clouds, more spiked and sheer than before and I realized we must have climbed a quarter-mile on our way through the tunnel.

  Lana slipped her daggers back into their sheaths with a sigh of obvious relief. “It is a strange thing that I do not fear to darken my blades with the blood of human enemies, yet balk at sinking them into the belly of a spider.”

  “Blood is a far more preferable sight to slime,” Kel said, dragging his boot along the grass with a look of disgust on his face. I did not ask what he had stood in.

  The donkey cropped at a patch of grass, tail twitching. Brin adjusted the rolls of silk on its back and touched his precious box briefly before turning to Kari, who had taken the map once more. “How long until we reach the next village?”

  Kari frowned. “It is not a matter of distance but the quality of the paths. At this height they may be treacherous and we must watch our footing. To the right lies the path into the valley, which will take much longer to navigate. To the left we will continue to climb until we reach a rope bridge which will leave us close to the village. However, I fear the donkey will not cross it.”

  “Then let us move toward the valley,” Brin growled, brows knotting together in obvious irritation.

  It proved to be a long and tiring day’s walk along a winding path which, more often than not, meandered around annoyingly to avoid spikes of rock. A rushing river cut its way through the high peaks and its banks were lined with lush trees and dense vegetation which provided a welcome contrast to the gravelly and sheer faces of the peaks around. We crossed at its narrowest point on a well-maintained and sturdy wooden bridge and paused at a bench on the other side to eat a meager lunch of pickled roots and strips of smoked fish. It was getting dark by the time we finally climbed the path on the other side of the valley.

  We spoke little, our muscles taxed by the constant upwards slopes and the need to concentrate on the ground ahead as it was stony and prone to slippage. When I laid my eyes upon the sign which announced that we were about to enter the village of Litmeti I felt like hurling myself at the tatty piece of painted wood and kissing it all over.

  Kel was almost weeping with exhaustion. “To think we must return along this same wretched route!” he lamented, tossing his braids over his shoulder.

  I glared at him. “Thank you for that unwelcome reminder, cousin.”

  Even Brin seemed about to collapse. He leaned against the donkey wearily and wiped the sweat from his face. “If you could find us an inn right away, Kari, I will make a substantial donation to the next Temple we come across.” An enormous statue of Matativi loomed over a small square which was surrounded by plain wooden dwellings. Unlike the other statues we had seen, it was carved from a dark, polished wood and garlands of blue flowers hung from the wrists. Most of the homes around were built into or accommodating the sheer face of the cloud-topped mountain with little uniformity in the manner or materials used in their construction. All of them had little walled gardens at the front with beautifully tended trees, boughs heavy with spring blossoms of delicate shades of pink and orange. Candles were already glowing at the windows. I saw nothing resembling an inn or a shop, but I speculated that the carvings above some of the doors were advertising what could be bought there during the day — a loaf of bread, a goat’s head, a horse shoe, but the sight of a little wooden baby painted in brown and blue and nailed through the head and feet above the nearest door gave me pause for thought.

  The whole village was so charming and picturesque I wished I was in a better mood to appreciate it. I leant my head against Lana’s as Kari went off to find us somewhere to rest for the night. I was so tired I would have settled for the ground where I stood, stony as it was.

  “I can’t feel my feet,” Lana moaned, and slipped her arm around my waist for support.

  We waited in slumped silence as darkness settled in comfortably around the village. Soon Kari returned with news of our accommodation for the night. “It is an unusual inn they have here, but decent nonetheless. Follow me.”

  The building he spoke of was little more than a wooden façade on stilts, under which travellers’ animals were tethered partially sheltered from the elements by a wooden fence and the overhanging building. Two black horses stood eating from a trough, tails twitching. Kel tied the donkey beside them and Brin unloaded the rolls of silk and left them on the floor before unsaddling the be
ast and taking his box into his arms. I was too exhausted to care if the silks were stolen in the night and obviously so was he.

  My muscles protested as I clambered up the ladder and inside to where the innkeep stood at a table lit by an oil lamp. Beyond him there were more steps, leading down this time, into a small cave which glowed faintly with candlelight. The silence was broken by snippets of conversation. We were shown to our beds, which were little more than rolled mats on the floor. Two of them were occupied by a couple of women dressed in woven night attire who ignored our greetings and continued their conversation in hushed whispers. Ten or more mats were arranged in a semicircle around a little statue of Matativi with candles burning at her feet beside some glass bowls filled with wilting blue flowers. The cave was surprisingly dry and warm inside and I collapsed onto my bed with a groan of relief and fell asleep almost immediately,

  I awoke briefly once in the night and was not sure if I had carried my dreams into the waking world or not. The room was cave dark and smelt of candles recently extinguished. Kari lay behind me, snoring softly. His arm was around my waist and I could feel his breath at the back of my neck. It was wonderful to know he was there, solid and warm behind me, and I wished it would always be so. My mind filled with dreamy images of us living in the Keeper’s hut and bathing in the lake every day, snail races, rainbows…the dreams began to swallow me up and I snuggled back against him, smiling in the dark.

  ***

  The next morning I awoke to find myself alone with my brother in the cave which was bright once more with with a fresh batch of candles burning at the statue of Matativi and the hint of daylight making its way down the steps. Brin was sitting on his bed among the rumpled blankets and flexing a horribly swollen and purpling ankle.