Juliet McKenna - The Swordsman's Oath

Sudden memory spurred me to action. “The gorgets! Shiv, Viltred, their magicians wore gorgets at their necks. Can you see one?”

We halted suddenly in the midst of the bustling crowd, looking all ways, Halice and Livak ready with their daggers, my hand on my sword.

“There!”

I turned to look where Shiv was pointing and my heart sank as I picked out a handful of Elietimm on the far side of the square, gold bright at the throat of the central figure. The hunter evidently had his fowling dogs with him, as well as his beaters.

Viltred drew a deep breath and his eyes lost their focus as he began to draw power into himself.

“Getting out of this is going to take direct action, I think,” he murmured. He flung his hands at the enemy in an abrupt gesture. I saw the air in front of the man’s eyes glow and shimmer, effectively blinding him. A man next to him stumbled and fell and, even at this distance, I could see confusion reflected in his colleagues’ faces.

“Rope of air?” Kerrit asked in genial inquiry.

“Round their feet,” confirmed Shiv with a grim face.

“Can we discuss the finer points of magecraft later?” Livak snapped with understandable irritation.

I spoke in almost the same breath. “Come on!”

We moved fast, Shiv forcing a path through the crowd with scant apology. When he saw another gray cloak ahead of us Viltred sent a sudden blow that stunned the man like a clubbed fish. As his colleague fell, a second hunter broke from the line and headed for the spot. We hurried for the gap in the cordon, shoving people aside with increasing force.

The old wizard suddenly doubled up, gasping for breath; Halice and Livak grabbed him and I looked around for the source of the attack. One of the gray-clad men had climbed on to the fountain’s pedestal and was staring at us, mouth moving, a silver sheen at his collar. Shiv wasted no breath on curses, but green light glittered in his fingers as a long arm of sparkling water snatched the enchanter and held him down in the basin. Water splashed high above the pedestal as a despairing hand rose and was dragged down again by greedy splashes, soaking the bystanders. People began to move away from the fountain, exclamations of confusion rising sharply above the murmur of the square.

I tried to move but Kerrit was in my way, staring in confusion.

“For all the elements revealed, that man was working no magic at all.” He sounded positively affronted and turned to rummage in his satchel for paper and ink.

“Later,” I snapped, grabbing his arm. “Viltred?”

“I’m all right.” He didn’t look at all well, with a bluish tinge around his lips and incipient panic mingled with the pain in his eyes.

“Shiv!” Livak’s gasp pulled all our heads around and the throng parted for a breath to show us a gorget-wearer thrusting bodies aside as he headed directly for us. All three wizards spat incoherent exclamations at the Elietimm and he exploded in a scatter of azure and scarlet light. Shock scattered the crowd away from the smouldering corpse, and sudden panic began to race through the square. Where people had pushed, they began to land blows; where they had been jesting, they began to curse and shout abuse. The sound began to turn ugly and screams rose from the center of the growing stampede, rising with the dust above the accelerating smack of boot soles on the flagstones. We were buffeted from all sides, tossed like crab-boats caught in a winter squall; I struggled to keep my footing.

“We have to stay together.”

I grabbed Kerrit’s tunic and reached for Livak, who was in turn linking her arm with Halice, who was using her crutch on nearby shins to clear a path as Shiv dragged Viltred over to us. Viltred was struggling, fruitlessly trying to resist the force of the crowd.

“Let yourself be carried along, we have to go with the flow,” I yelled at him.

The last thing I wanted was to be noticeable in this mob; there was going to be no question but magic had started the panic and I didn’t want to be caught on the streets with three wizards when the local Watch or whoever came looking for a culprit. A riot like this was going to leave bodies in its wake and the Relshazri would want someone to blame. When a city elects its officials, keeping the mob happy tends to be more important than justice and I wasn’t about to have my head clamped in a pillory just for having a Formalin accent.

Since we had been heading for a side street anyway, the tide of fleeing Relshazri soon washed us into a dank alley between an inn and a gaming-house. I looked around to make sure we were all all right, but I wasn’t too reassured; Viltred was still recovering from the assault he’d suffered and Livak was supporting Halice, who’d lost her crutch in the crush by now.

“Wait here.”

I moved cautiously back down the muddy street, taking full advantage of any cover offered by doorways and a few abandoned vehicles and hand-carts. The square was largely clear by now, save for two knots of weeping women clustered around prone bodies and a few dazed individuals staggering to their feet. Black-headed gulls were wheeling overhead and a few of the bolder birds were already pecking at fallen fruit, an abandoned loaf of bread, a peddler’s tray of sweetmeats scattered in the dust; others looked speculatively at a motionless body in a huddle of soiled rags. Their thin cries were suddenly lost beneath a child screaming hysterically on the temple steps, flailing thin arms as a red-robed priestess tried ineffectually to calm it. I looked for gray cloaks and saw at least one of our pursuers had been trampled, unable to rise as his feet were still caught in Shiv’s spell I realized with some satisfaction.

“Rope of air is a cantrip any novice could dispel.”

I turned to see that Kerrit had followed me, pen in his mouth as he fumbled with the lid of his ink-horn.

“It should have presented no problem to someone able to see through a complex illusion or to send a direct attack over such a range,” he mumbled, rifling through his notes for a clean page.

“Come on.” I grabbed him with rising irritation, ignoring his protests as ink spilled down the front of his breeches as I dragged him back to the others. Was I ever going to meet a wizard with the sense to run a whelk stall?

“Shiv, do everything you can to hide us. We need to get back to Mellitha’s at once!”

Shiv nodded, and the air around us began to shimmer again as the air wove itself to conceal us.

“I’ve something here which is supposed to hide a trail,” Kerrit piped up.

“Do it then!” I snapped.

“Well, I can’t; you see, it’s an aetheric incantation. I’m fairly sure it should work though; if my notes are correct, it should prevent them using their magic to find us.”

Kerrit beamed and held out a page of precisely written syllables. I reached for it but sudden qualms stayed my hand in mid-air.

“Livak? You did some of these before, didn’t you? You said something about the rhythms?”

I could see my own reluctance reflected in her grass-green eyes as our gazes locked for a still moment.

“Give it here.” Livak suddenly snatched the paper and spat out the words, a Forest cadence in her voice.

“Ar mel sidith, ranel marclenae.”

As far as I was concerned, we had no way of knowing if it would do any good. I would rely on the methods I’ve used before.

“Viltred, do you know a way back to Mellitha’s, using the back streets?”

The old mage dragged a weary hand across his face and nodded. “This way.”

No one stopped us as we made our way back across the city, more slowly than I would have liked in order to maintain the spells woven around us. The Arril streets were as quiet as anywhere in Relshaz and since the people were going about their business, unconcerned, we all began to breathe a little easier. I was starting to think I recognized some of the houses when Viltred stopped abruptly and I nearly trod on his heels.