Juliet McKenna - The Assassin's Edge

“If Ilkehan’s dead, why didn’t we hear about it from Livak?” Halice picked up a kettle and stuck fingers in her mouth to summon a nearby sailor with an ear-splitting whistle.

“Perhaps Shiv’s incapacitated somehow,” said Usara thoughtfully.

“Can’t Sorgrad bespeak you?” queried Halice as she handed over the kettle. “Get that filled.”

Usara shook his head. “He’s not got that skill perfected as yet.”

“If Shiv’s hurt, I want to know what’s been going on,” said Halice grimly.

“You and me both,” muttered Pered. The artist stood behind Allin, matching the edges of a sheaf of drawings with concentrated precision.

“That’s not important—I’m sorry, of course it’s important but—” Temar tried to convey apology with a quick look at Pered before turning to Halice. “If Ilkehan’s dead, we must attack, while the pirates’ enchanters are still shocked by their master’s death.”

“I’m sure Shiv’s all right.” Allin gave Pered a reassuring smile and Temar wondered how he could ever have thought her plain.

“The news might have Muredarch off balance as well,” Usara remarked thoughtfully.

Halice nodded slowly. “As long as we’re certain those enchanters are clear off the board and back in the box.”

Allin moved to stir the slumbering cook fire to a cheerful blaze. “Planir wouldn’t have told Larissa to tell us if there was any danger.”

“Larissa’s the last person in Hadrumal he’d risk,” agreed Usara with a pang at the truth of his own words.

“Guinalle can tell us how Muredarch’s Elietimm stand.” Temar waved a hand at the shuttered wooden hut.

“She got less sleep last night than I did.” Usara realised he had spoken more sharply than he’d intended when he saw Temar’s indignation. He managed a milder tone. “Nursing Naldeth has been tiring. How much are you asking of her?”

“It’s simple enough.” Temar’s open face betrayed his chagrin. “If I were but a little more adept, I could do it myself

“I’ll make her a nice tisane.” Allin rose, brushing sand and ashes from her skirts, and rummaged in a small coffer holding Pered’s treasured spice jars. “You can take it to her, ’Sar.”

“Of course.” Usara hoped he didn’t look as self-conscious as he felt when Allin gave him an encouraging smile.

“Let’s assume Ilkehan’s death has drawn Muredarch’s enchanters’ teeth.” Temar squared up to Halice. “We have to decide exactly how to attack. We’ve spent long enough discussing the options.”

Halice spared a glance for Pered. “If Livak and Shiv are in trouble, our attack should distract whoever’s chasing them, Saedrin willing,”

“As soon as we’ve seen these pirates to Poldrion’s ferry, we can rescue them.” Allin looked hopefully from Halice to Temar.

Halice was frowning, one foot tapping in thought. “The question we must decide is how best to use Darni and Larissa. He’s got the better part of a troop with him and we could certainly use a second attack.”

Temar braced himself. “I still don’t think we can rely on Darni. We’ve no notion of how many wounded he suffered or how far afield he’s fled to evade pursuit.”

“Let me help you, Allin.” Usara went to find the horn cups. He didn’t want to get involved in that argument again.

Halice’s expression deepened to a scowl. “It’ll take too cursed long to send a boatful of men all the way round to come up the strait from the south.”

“Those two pirate ships we burned all but block the channel anyway,” Usara pointed out. “A two-handed attack is all very well but we’d gain nothing by splitting our forces and letting Muredarch take on each half as he pleases.

“Guinalle could call up the Eryngo with Artifice, or I could,” Temar amended hastily as he caught Usara’s look of rebuke.

“We want every ship holding the blockade.” Halice shook her head. “We won’t net all the rats but I’ll be cursed if I’ll let them scurry back to Kalaven to plague us in some other season. Send them orders with your Artifice by all means; just to sink any boat that they see.”

“We don’t want them fetching up on Kellarin’s shores either.” Allin was tying up scraps of muslin filled with miserly spoonfuls of herbs.

“Indeed not.” Temar folded his arms in unconscious imitation of Halice, jaw set. “So we hit the landing as hard as we can in the first assault. That means you need every man who can hold a sword. I’m coming too.”

“Of course you are.” The mercenary’s smile was as fierce as it was unexpected. “This is your first real fight for your colony. You’ll be seen to be leading it, if I have to be standing behind you with a cattle prod.”

Allin’s kettle stopped in mid-pour, the wizard looking concerned. “Couldn’t you attack at night again? Wouldn’t you all be safer?”

“We won’t get away with that trick twice. If Muredarch isn’t setting double sentries at sunset, I’m the Elected of Col.” Halice’s words were more explanation than rebuke. Temar was glad to see it, though for a fleeting instant he did think it might make a pleasant change if Halice showed him the same forbearance.

“Besides, a raid at night’s one thing; a full assault is a whole different hand of runes,” the mercenary continued. “We need to see what everyone’s doing and when those pirates break, we want to know where they run. We’d lose them inside ten strides in those woods in the dark. The whole fight would end up as confused as two cats scrapping in a sack.”

“I can’t see us being able to use the archers as effectively as last time.” Usara took a steaming tisane, brow wrinkled in thought.

“No,” agreed Halice, taking a cup from Allin with a nod of thanks. “They’ve precious few arrows left, which is another reason we need Darni. ’Sar, when you bespeak Larissa, tell her we want whoever can still walk and wave a stick creating a diversion. If we can split the pirates even just a little, we can drive in a wedge.”

Allin set down her kettle. “Plenty of the captives we rescued will want to come. They’ve been saying as much.”

“They’re still too weak, however strong their hatred.” Temar’s grimace acknowledged that unwelcome truth. “Naldeth was half dead even before those swine threw him to the sharks.”

“A few days’ rest and food won’t give them the stamina for a real fight.” Halice turned to the open beach. “Banner sergeants to me!” she bellowed. “Let’s set about making a proper plan, shall we?” She took another swallow of tisane, grimacing at the heat, before throwing the sodden muslin lump into the fire where it hissed and smouldered. She poured the dregs to dampen the soil and picked up a stick to scrape an outline on the ground.

“Let me do that,” offered Pered but, as he spoke, the earth began to writhe beneath Halice’s twig, shaping itself into a representation of the pirates’ landing blurred by a misty ochre haze.

“Then let me do that instead.” Pered took one of the cups Allin was still holding and knocked on the door of the hut.

“Enter.” Guinalle’s voice was soft and she warned the artist with a finger to her lips. Men snored and shifted on their pallets and the air was rank with the scents of sleep, sweat and injury.

Pered handed her the cup. “I thought you were supposed to be resting.”

“With Halice shouting fit to be heard in the Otherworld?” She looked quizzically at him. “What’s the news?” She stood in the doorway and looked at Halice, Temar and Usara, dun, black and balding heads bent close together while Allin set about the more prosaic necessity of chopping meat from the island’s scurrying rodents to add to the hulled wheat she’d set soaking earlier.