The Crimson Campaign(The Powder Mage Trilogy)(92)

"I said stop." Kresimir appeared at one of the courtyard doors. The water of the Addown he'd dumped in the courtyard seemed to shrink beneath his feet and dry up, so that when he stepped it was on parched cobbles.

Taniel kept moving. His body wanted to stop, but he knew he couldn't. He had to press on. To get away from the god.

"Why do you not obey my orders?" Kresimir's voice was the deepest bass Taniel had ever heard. It rang within his ears. The god tilted his head to one side, as if curious. He pointed at the cobbles. "Kneel."

"Go to the pit," Taniel spat. His whole body shook from the effort of moving.

"Kneel!"

The keep quaked. One of the Prielight Guards screamed. Taniel could feel Kresimir's confusion behind the mask.

"Take him," Kresimir whispered.

Prielight Guards surged to their feet. It was a struggle for Taniel just to move as he tried to react to their advance.

Fighting was out of the question.

Taniel's pike was taken from him. Someone slammed the butt of an air rifle into his back, dropping him to his knees.

"A spy, my lord," the guard captain said. "Another assassin."

"From who?"

Fingers curled into Taniel's hair and his head was wrenched back so that he looked up at Kresimir. "Answer your god, cur," the guard captain said.

Taniel cleared his throat and spit the contents at Kresimir's feet.

The butt of a rifle smacked across his face.

"Amateurs," Taniel said. General Ket's provosts had hit him harder than that.

"Adran, my lord," the guard captain said.

Kresimir took a small step back. "Who ordered you here?" He paused a moment, and then, "Why does he not answer? His god compels him."

The next blow was a pike handle to Taniel's chin that he feared had dislocated his jaw. Something hit him in the stomach. He was dragged up by the hair and hit again, then again. Amateurs these were not. Compared with these, the first blow had been gentle.

"Answer your god," the guard captain said.

Taniel remained silent.

"Break his arm."

One Prielight took ahold of Taniel's wrist, bending it painfully back, and then brought a knee up against his elbow as one might break a branch for the fire. Taniel gritted his teeth, trying not to scream. Once. Twice. Three times.

"Break it," the guard captain said again.

"I can't. It's like trying to break a cannon barrel." The Prielight rubbed at his knee.

"Get a hammer."

"Fools." Kresimir's voice made the Prielights cower. He stepped up and looked down on Taniel.

Taniel felt the warmth of sorcery like the slow approach of a flame.

"Beg," Kresimir said.

Taniel shook his head.

"Beg!" Kresimir's jaw twisted with sudden strain, and Taniel felt the heat come on quickly. He drew back involuntarily, ready for the worst kind of pain.

Kresimir suddenly threw himself backward, a wail escaping his lips. It grew louder and louder, and might have shattered the stones of the keep had it been longer. As it was, Taniel thought that for a moment it would drive him mad. The god fell to the ground, swatting at invisible flames, whimpering.

Taniel felt the chuckle rise within him. It burst forth from his mouth like a funny thought at an inopportune moment.

Ka-poel's wards. It had to be.

Kresimir couldn't break them.

Kresimir cowered on the cobbles. His mask had fallen off. He stared at Taniel through one eye of fear. The other eye was pus-filled, oozing black liquid over a swollen, purple cheek. "What did you do to me?" Kresimir asked.

Taniel couldn't stop laughing. "Oh," he said. "That wasn't me. You met Pole."

Taniel tried to move. He still couldn't.

Kresimir groped blindly for his mask. He returned it to his face and climbed to his feet, but did not approach Taniel again.

"Fetch the Adran traitor," Kresimir said. There was fear in his voice. "Have him identify this spy."



Taniel waited on his hands and knees, head sagged from exhaustion. Kresimir had sent his men out just thirty minutes ago.

"A traitor," Kresimir had said. Who was it? Taniel had suspected all along that it might be Ket. She'd been too enthusiastic about ordering the retreats. Maybe Doravir.

Of course, it might be someone lower. A general's aid, or even courier. Plenty of people had access to the kind of sensitive information that would give the Kez the edge.

Taniel had a feeling it wasn't a lower-ranking officer, though. He suspected a colonel, or maybe even a general.

Kresimir paced slowly in one corner of the keep courtyard. Every few minutes he'd turn his one good eye toward Taniel.

Taniel stared back in defiance. He'd brought down this god. He'd put a bullet in Kresimir's eye. He'd proved a god could feel pain.

He wouldn't give Kresimir the satisfaction of watching him grovel.

Of course, Taniel knew he might think otherwise after a few days of torture. He had to be realistic. Ka-poel's wards seemed to protect him from sorcery. Perhaps even from permanent physical damage. But he knew from experience that he could still feel pain.

Funny, that. Her protection might just be his undoing. The Kez could torture him indefinitely.

Footsteps approached from a hallway adjoining the courtyard. Taniel rocked back on his knees. He'd see this traitor and spit in his eye before he died.

"My lord, you summoned me?"

Taniel's head jerked around.

The traitor was an older, heavyset man. He wore the epaulets of a general, and the left sleeve of his blue Adran uniform was pinned across the shoulder to make up for the missing arm.

General Hilanska.

"Who is this assassin?" Kresimir gestured toward Taniel.

"My lord?" Hilanska turned. His eyes grew wide at the sight of Taniel, and his mouth worked silently for a moment.

"You know him?"

"I do indeed, my lord. He is the very man you seek: the eye behind the flintlock. Taniel Two-Shot."

"I feared … " The words came from Kresimir's mouth as a whisper.

Taniel got to his feet. It was like trying to stand beneath the weight of the entire keep, his knees buckling beneath him, legs shaking from the effort.

"I'll kill you," he said to Hilanska.

"Was he sent here?" Kresimir asked.

The general seemed troubled. "No, my lord. He should be under arrest in the Wings of Adom camp right now."

"Why?" Taniel demanded. "My father trusted you!" Everything that had happened: the arrest, the court-martial, the attack on Ka-poel. Had that all been Hilanska?
 
 

 

"He mentioned someone named Pole," Kresimir said.

Hilanska frowned. "I don't know anyone …  ah. There is a girl named Ka-poel."

"Is she a great sorcerer? Why did I not know of her?"

Taniel surged forward. The guards clustered around, menacing him with pikes and air rifles. "Not another word, Hilanska!"

"She's just a child, practically. Two-Shot's companion. A savage."

"And a sorcerer?"

"A Bone-eye. A savage magician of some kind. Negligible powers."

"Kill her."

Taniel snarled wordlessly. He felt a pike blade catch his shoulder, tearing through his skin and flesh as he forced his way through the circle of Prielight Guards. One of the guards threw himself in front of Taniel. Barely even slowing down, Taniel snatched the guard by the throat and crushed his windpipe.

Hilanska turned to run, but he was too slow. Taniel leapt after him, fingers grasping, ready to crush the traitor's skull between his palms.

And he would have, had Kresimir not stepped between them.

The god raised a hand, and Taniel felt that same sluggish weight fall upon him.

He tore through it, batting away Kresimir's hand. His body didn't feel like it was his own, and he gave in to the rage flowing through him.

Taniel expected his fists to strike steel when he touched the flesh of the god. Instead, Kresimir crumpled before him, crying out. Taniel's knuckles cracked hard against Kresimir's jaw, then his face. Kresimir's mask clattered to the ground, and Taniel found himself straddling the god, pounding away.

Kresimir's nose was a fountain of blood, and his teeth gave way to the beating.

Taniel's fingers curled around the god's throat when the Prielights pulled him away. He flailed about with his fists, sending several of the Prielights to the floor before he himself was beaten down.

"Don't kill him!" Kresimir shrieked, scrambling to get to his feet. His face was crimson, his white robes soaked with blood. "Don't kill him," he said again. Kresimir returned the mask to his face and backed slowly away from Taniel. "Hang him high. I want the world to see what becomes of a man who thought he could kill God."

The Prielights dragged Taniel across the hall. He kicked and screamed, throwing what punches he could. As he was pulled out of the hall, he could hear Kresimir speaking once again to Hilanska:

"Tomorrow I burn the Adran army."

"Are you sure, my lord? What about Adom?"

"He will burn with the rest."



Adamat spent the night in the arms of his wife and rose early to make his way to the riverfront.

It was only about seven o'clock, but a thin crowd had already turned out. By the blaze of the sun rising in the east over the abandoned Skyline Palace, Adamat could tell it would be a beautiful day. Few clouds hung above him. The sky was blue and gold.

He found a spot where the crumbling wall of the old city overlooked the Ad River as it came into Adopest but before it hooked around the bend and met up with the Adsea. Adamat sat on the wall and dangled his feet over the edge, eating a meat pie he'd bought from a vendor in the street. He still felt burdened by the loss of Josep. Perhaps Faye was right  –  the other children needed him now. He had to somehow protect them from this new threat.