The Tower Broken(23)

It filled Didryk with a blank horror. Patterns fed the Storm. Yrkmir wielded patterns as other men wielded swords, and Yrkmir was coming.

But caught between Mogyrk and His followers, Cerana would look for an ally who could counter their magic. The emperor would never trust an austere like Adam; it was to Didryk he would turn – to Didryk he must turn.

He had been intended for the church, and raised among the novices. He had learned with them, eaten with them, drawn his first patterns with them, under Adam’s less than tender care. Those dozen boys who slept in the cloister attic had been like brothers, but only Didryk remained. Arigu had tortured and burned the rest. When he closed his eyes Didryk still saw their charred corpses hanging from the city wall; he still choked on the stench of burning flesh.

Didryk set the pitcher and cup within the general’s reach. ‘Drink.’ With that he pushed open the flap and stepped out into the desert, into the sun that fell so gracelessly upon every inch of sand, and the biting heat that came with it. It was no wonder the desert empire was known as unforgiving and ruthless, for its sky held no kindness. He gestured to his men who were gathered under tarps and drinking from waterskins, and began to climb the nearest dune. It was harder than he had expected, and the breath came harsh in his throat. Halfway up his calves and thighs began to strain, and the sun burnt the back of his neck as he zigzagged to the top. At last he looked out towards Cerana. Banreh was not yet returning – he would have sensed that – but soldiers could be seeking them instead. Didryk was prepared to die. One did not enter into such a plan as his without being so, but he would like to see it coming.

He looked east over the sands until a bright pain pierced his eyes, but saw no colours cut out from the unending brown, no plume of dust that would indicate movement from Nooria. A reluctant glance towards the north showed no sign of Yrkmir either. Would Yrkmir pass by the same wound, or would they be caught by it and torn apart, unravelled?

He looked down at his camp, blinking away the dark spots in his vision; it was surprisingly far below. Coming from the mountains as he did, he should be used to gauging heights, but these dunes tricked the eye.

‘Didryk.’ A crimson-robed figure made the crest and ambled towards him as if this were a calm summer day in the courtyard at Mondrath. Didryk knew him for Adam even before the pointed hood fell back, revealing white-gold hair, and he backed away before thinking better of it.

‘Adam.’ Didryk’s instinct was to protect himself, but their talk would not go well with weapons in hand. ‘How did you find me?’

‘You are my student,’ Adam said with a smile. ‘I will always be able to find you.’

‘I was your student,’ Didryk corrected, his mind racing. Adam must have marked and bound him long ago, when he was a child. Why had he never realised it?

Adam spoke with conspiratorial pleasure. ‘I felt your hand in the marketplace. I would not have recommended that, my Duke. Now the Blue Shields are inspired to seek us everywhere – why do you look so surprised? Did you think I would not know your careful pattern-work?’

Didryk knew nothing of any marketplace, but he looked stonily at the man, willing him to stop, to leave, but Adam continued, still behaving as if they stood over his mother’s rose bushes outside his long-lost home. ‘But now we shall have some assistance. I have a new student now. Of all the desperate and downtrodden Cerani I have brought into the light only one shows any promise. That is how weak I have found the stock of Nooria to be, and yet they enslave our people. Yes’ – he nodded with emphasis as if Didryk did not believe him – ‘I saw Fryth slaves in the palace.’

His mention of the palace brought only one thing to Didryk’s mind. ‘Did you kill my cousin Kavic,’ he asked, ‘or was it the Cerani who killed him?’

Adam pressed a hand to his heart. ‘Of course I did not kill him. Why would you come to Cerana looking for me if you believed I had done such a thing?’

‘Perhaps I was not looking for you.’ As ever, Didryk could not gauge whether the austere spoke true, but it did not matter. He had not wanted the peace and he had let Kavic die, and Didryk would have his revenge either way.

‘Don’t be embarrassed, child. Why else would you come so close to the lion’s mouth, except to join with your old teacher? I heard what you did to the White Hats. The Cerani will turn the desert inside out looking for you, but I can offer protection. It was wise of you to find me.’

‘I play my own game.’ And a mad one at that: one that depended on gaining the trust of the emperor before turning all of his people against him, one that pitted him alone against the Tower, the priests and all of Cerana’s soldiers. But it was one he would rather try than join with the second austere.