David Coe - The Horsemen's Gambit

Lark twisted around, still struggling with the reins as Ashes continued to buck.

There were six of them, all men, all Fal'Borna from the look of them. Four of them held long blades; the other two were unarmed, although Lark wasn't sure that really mattered with sorcerers.

"I said, get off your carts!"

They weren't soldiers. Most likely they had come from the quays. But Lark felt certain that they had heard the warnings.

Ashes reared again, drawing her gaze once more. "I can't get off until I calm my horse," she said over her shoulder. "If you can calm him, great. Otherwise you'll just have to wait."

Almost immediately the two horses began to calm down.

Lark took a long breath.

"Now," the Qirsi said. "For the last time, get off your carts."

Slowly, Lark and Antal climbed down from their seats and turned to face the men.

"Eandi merchants," the Fal'Borna said grimly. "I don't know what you've done to my city, but we're going to find out."

The men led Lark and Antal away from the river, up a hill, to the marketplace. Bolts of flame still streaked across the night sky, and smoke drifted among the buildings, stinging Lark's eyes and nose. She could still hear the shattering of wood and glass. Winds whipped through the city streets, seeming to come from every direction at once. Ashes, though calmer than before, remained on edge, his ears laid flat as he shook his head impatiently again and again. In part this was due to the fact that a Fal'Borna had led him through the lanes to this point. He was a fairly docile beast, but he didn't like to be handled by anyone other than Lark. Even so, he was behaving oddly. Whatever magic had been unleashed by the pestilence was still at work. She still heard voices; forlorn cries, moans of despair and pain. Had she not known better, she might have thought that the city was under siege.

Surveying the marketplace, Lark saw that other Eandi merchants had been brought here as well. Antal had been right to think that they weren't alone among the Fal'Borna. It seemed, though, that the others of their race were in similar straits.

"There! That one!" Looking toward the voices, Lark saw a guard pointing at her, leading several others in her direction. His clothes were stained with soot and blood, and he had a gash on his forehead, but as he drew near, she recognized the man who had questioned her earlier this day at the gate.

The man and his comrades stopped a short distance from her, seemingly unwilling to come nearer. It almost struck her as funny that they should be so afraid of her. They were the ones with magic.

"Your baskets did this," the man said, glaring at her. "You know it's true."

"I don't know anything for certain," she said, an admission in the words. "When I saw you this morning, I didn't think any of this would happen. That's the truth."

One of the other guards nodded toward her cart. "Is that one yours?" he asked. His uniform bore markings on the chest; it seemed he was an officer, a captain probably.

"Yes," Lark said.

"Are there more baskets inside?"

She nodded.

Lark knew immediately what he would do. She nearly opened her mouth to beg him to spare Ashes, but she needn't have bothered. These were Fal'Borna. As merciless as they would be with her and her wares, they would take good care of her horse. They removed the beast's harness and led him a short distance away. A moment later, her cart exploded in flame. Even expecting it, Lark started.

"My gold!" she said, remembering the leather pouch that held her coins. She'd had it with her in the tavern, but had placed it on the seat beside her when she and Antal returned to their carts. She started toward the cart, but Antal caught her around the waist.

"No! It's too late."

"That's everything I have!" She struggled to break free of his grip, but the old man held her fast.

"Please!" she sobbed. "I'll have, nothing!" She looked at the Fal'Borna, desperate now. "Can't you stop it? Just long enough for…"

The captain shook his head, a hard expression on his face. "Fire magic doesn't work that way." He opened both hands, turning slowly and glancing up at the sky, a simple motion that seemed to encompass all that was going on around them: the fires and smoke, the screams of terror. "Don't you think we'd stop these other fires if we could?"

"But my gold," she said weakly.

She saw his jaw muscles bunch.

"You won't need it."

Lark felt her knees buckle. You won't need it. Had it not been for Antal, she would have fallen to the ground.

The Fal'Borna turned to the other merchant. "What's in your cart?"

"No baskets, if that's what you mean?" When the soldier didn't respond, Antal shrugged. "Much the same as her. Blankets, cloth, a few blades, some boxes and other woodwork. But no baskets. I swear it."

The captain looked toward the gate guard, a question in his pale eyes. "She was the only one with baskets," the gate guard said. "At least that I saw."

For several moments, the captain merely stood there, eyeing Antal, as if trying to decide what to do with him.

Lark took a breath, fighting a wave of nausea. You won't need it. She felt herself going numb. But she couldn't allow what she had done to doom Antal as well. The merchant was still holding her, and now she pulled herself from his grasp and straightened. "I only met this man today," she said. "Whatever it is you think I've done, whatever vengeance you plan to exact, that's between the Fal'Borna and me. He had nothing to do with it."

"He's with you now," the captain said, his voice flat. "He did nothing to stop you. He might well have been helping you."

"He did nothing for me. We met today. We chatted, but that was all."

"They were on the river road," said one of the men from the quays. "I'd wager they were trying to get out of the city by crossing at the north end." The captain nodded once. "See to his horse."

"You're making a mistake!" Lark shouted, tears on her face. "He's just a merchant."

The captain ignored her; the other guards quickly unharnessed Antal's nag from his cart.

Lark heard the jangling of coins and, glancing over at Antal, saw that the merchant held his money pouch in his hand. Antal tried to smile, but it looked pained. "At least I have my gold," he said, tears shining in his eyes.

The Qirsi led Antal's horse over to where they had tied Ashes. In mere moments, the merchant's cart was engulfed in bright, angry flames.

"I'm so sorry, Antal," Lark whispered.

The man said nothing.

For several moments all of them just stood there, watching the carts burn. The wood snapped and popped so that glowing embers flew in all directions. Black smoke billowed into the night, buffeted by the winds so that it shifted first one way and then another until finally it mingled with the dark, pungent cloud that now hung over S'Vralna.

Finally the captain looked away from the flames and regarded the two merchants.

"Bring them," he said, turning on his heel and walking out of the marketplace.

Two guards approached Lark and, taking her by each arm, steered her after the captain. Antal walked behind her, also held by two Fal'Borna soldiers.

"Where are you taking us?" Lark called to the captain.

He cast a quick look over his shoulder before facing forward again. "To the a'laq," he said, his words nearly lost amid the wind and the screams and the desperate whinnying of horses coming from a nearby farrier shop.

The a'laq. Would he be the one to execute them? Or would he merely pass judgment and leave the killing to another?

Once out of the marketplace, Lark saw even more evidence of the damage being done by the white-hair plague. Houses were in ruins. A building seemed to tear itself apart in front of them. One moment it was standing dark and silent against the glowing sky; the next it crumbled to the ground as if crushed by some great, unseen fist. Lark heard voices calling out for help within the rubble, but the captain and his men didn't stop to help.