Relics of War

Chapter Twenty-Two

“You have a plan,” Tesk said as they walked. “What is it?”

“I was originally going to say we wanted both sides to think you were dead,” Garander replied, “but now I wonder whether you should maybe accept Lord Edaran’s offer, and we would only need to convince Lord Dakkar you’re dead.”

Tesk shook his head. “Lord Dakkar would find out. Lord Edaran’s people could not keep their visits to me secret.”

“Probably not,” Garander admitted. “All right, both sides. Separately, so they won’t fight over the body. I’ll go to each of them and say I found you dead in the woods. I’ll tell the baron’s people that you killed yourself rather than give in to his threats, and I’ll tell the Ethsharites that the baron decided not to wait and went ahead and killed you. Then I’ll bring them into the forest and show them your body-there’s a magic spell called the Sanguinary Deception that will make it look like you’re very definitely dead, so obviously dead that they won’t bother to make sure. And with each of them, you’ll have a bunch of weapons and talismans and equipment that they can steal to study, so they won’t think they’re leaving anything for the other side.”

“Hm,” Tesk said. “Blaming my death on the baron may not be clever.”

“Maybe not,” Garander admitted. “So suicide there, too, then.”

“Or perhaps you could blame my demon half,” Tesk suggested. “Say that it killed me rather than allow me to surrender. Which it might in fact do.”

“Oh!” Garander said. “Of course.”

“This spell-how does it make me look so obviously dead that they will not cut my head off to be sure?”

“I don’t know,” Garander admitted. “But if they try, you’re fast enough to dodge, aren’t you?”

“That would ruin the deception.”

“I know. Then we’d have to try something else.”

“I see. Do you have another plan to try, if that happens?”

“Not yet.”

“I see.” Tesk considered that for a moment, then asked, “Will you be casting the spell?”

“No, one of the wizards agreed to do it.”

“Then this wizard will know I am still alive.”

“Yes,” Garander admitted. “I couldn’t see any way to avoid that. And it’s actually two wizards-the first one I asked didn’t know the spell we need.”

“Can we trust these wizards to remain silent?”

“I think so,” Garander said. “They don’t want a war. And I’ve always heard that wizards are good at keeping secrets-they keep the workings of their spells secret, after all.”

Tesk nodded.

“Then you’ll do it?”

“I have no better plan. I will try it.”

“I’ll bring the wizard to the woods once it’s full dark.”

“I will meet you.”

“Once the spell is cast, you’ll need to get those tools and talismans-enough so that each side will think they have all of them.”

Tesk asked, “Will this deception spell interfere with bringing the supplies?”

“I don’t think so. But we’ll ask the wizard. If he isn’t sure, maybe we can wait and cast the spell in the morning.”

Tesk nodded again. “Bring the wizard,” he said. He added, “Do not follow me,” and then sped up, changing direction and heading toward the forest to the northwest.

Garander could not have followed at such a pace in any case; he stopped, and saw that he had walked past his own front door without realizing it while they spoke. Tesk had said he wanted to say goodbye to the family, but apparently he had changed his mind, or been so distracted by the discussion of Garander’s plan that he forgot.

Garander turned back and headed inside. He found his family waiting for him. “What’s happening?” Ishta demanded, before anyone else could say a word.

“The Ethsharites made an offer,” Garander said. “A good one-they said they would send visitors, teachers and students, to keep him company, and teach him about Ethshar, and learn about his magic and the Northern Empire.”

“And the baron?” his father asked.

“He made a threat. He said he would have Tesk killed if he didn’t cooperate, or if he agreed to work for the Ethsharites.”

“Won’t the Ethsharites protect him?” Shella the Younger asked.

“I’m sure they’ll try,” Garander said. “If he agrees to their terms, anyway.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Ishta asked.

“He doesn’t trust them,” Garander said. “And he doesn’t really want anyone learning about his magic.”

“Then what’s he going to do?”

Garander hesitated. He did not want to lie to his family, but he did not trust Ishta to keep a secret, not even when it might save Tesk’s life.

But on the other hand, she had managed to keep quiet about Tesk’s very existence for months.

Their father had not, though. Garander threw a quick glance at Grondar, then turned back to Ishta. “I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think he’s decided yet.”

Grondar gave him a look Garander could not interpret, then called, “Shouldn’t you be getting our supper, Shella?”

Garander’s mother started. “Oh, yes!” she said. She grabbed her elder daughter’s arm and hustled toward the kitchen.

“Ishta, help your mother,” Grondar ordered.

“But I…”

“Go! It will keep you busy and take your mind off your shatra friend.”

Reluctantly, Ishta obeyed.

“Garander and I will get on with the chores,” Grondar called after the women. “Just because we have wizards and aristocrats all over the place doesn’t mean the pigs will feed themselves.”

Garander was in no mood to tend to the livestock, but he knew his father had a point. He walked back out the door he had just entered, and started toward the barn.

His father caught his arm. “You have an idea of some sort, don’t you?” Grondar asked. “I saw you slip away earlier.”

“I…” Garander hesitated.

Grondar held up a hand. “Don’t tell me. I can’t give away secrets I don’t know. You can tell me all about it later, when it’s all over.”

“Thank you, Father,” Garander said.

“Is there anything else you need to do?”

Garander glanced in the direction of the flying carpet. “Actually…”

Grondar gave him a shove. “Go do it. Don’t tell me anything. And if you can get back in time for your supper, good, but if you can’t, I’ll tell your mother the hogs were being troublesome.”

“Thank you, Father!” Garander repeated, more enthusiastically. He gave a look at the baron’s camp, but they would not be able to see much in the gathering gloom, especially if he went around the far side of the house. He hurried to the corner, watching over his shoulder as his father vanished into the barn.

Ellador was not at the designated meeting place, and Garander grew steadily more worried as he waited for what seemed like an hour but was probably no more than a fourth of one. The colors had vanished from the west, and the sky overhead had faded from dark blue to starry black, when at last the wizard’s voice spoke.

“I’m glad to see you,” he said. “I was afraid you might be delayed.”

Startled, Garander looked around but saw no sign of the old man.

“I’m wearing the Mantle of Stealth,” Ellador said. “I didn’t want Zendalir or Shasha asking awkward questions.”

Garander had never heard of a Mantle of Stealth, but guessed it was some sort of invisibility spell. “Good,” he said. “This way.”

He hoped the wizard was following him, but had no way of telling for certain-his magic apparently hid the sound of his footsteps, as well as rendering him invisible. He was reassured when the old man stumbled and muttered, “Death!” as he struggled to recover his balance.

Garander made his way slowly and carefully from the farm into the forest, making it easy for the wizard to keep up, even in the growing darkness. Fortunately the greater moon was rising, and dull orange light trickled through the trees.

He and Tesk had not specified an exact spot for their meeting; Garander had relied on the shatra’s superhuman senses to find him. He wandered almost at random into the woods, more or less aiming at a clearing where he and Ishta had visited with Tesk a few times.

He had not quite reached it when Tesk’s voice asked, “Is the wizard coming, or has something gone wrong?”

Garander stopped, and the shatra dropped out of a tree almost directly in front of him.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he said. “The wizard’s right behind me.”

He hoped that was true.

“Gods!” Ellador’s voice said, relieving Garander’s doubts. “It really is a shatra!”

Tesk jumped sideways, and suddenly one of his black rods was in his hand. His head jerked upward, then back down.

“I can smell you,” he said. “And I sense your body heat…”

“I’m right here,” Ellador said, suddenly appearing in a patch of moonlight between two trees. He was holding a large piece of dark cloth in one hand; he was hatless, and his hair was rumpled.

“He was using a spell to help him slip away,” Garander said.

“The Mantle of Stealth,” Ellador explained. “It’s a simple invisibility spell.”

“Ah,” Tesk said, lowering his wand-but only partway, Garander noticed.

“I’m Ellador of Morningside,” the wizard said. He started to hold out his hand, then thought better of it. “My friend Azlia asked me to help this young man out with a bit of magic, and I agreed.”

“I am Tezhiskar Deralt aya Shatra Ad’n Chitir Shess Chitir,” the shatra replied. “Your people call me Tesk.” He still did not put his weapon away.

“I take it you are not comfortable around wizards,” Ellador said, pointing at the black rod.

“I am not,” Tesk agreed.

“That could be awkward. To perform the spell Garander wanted, I’ll need to draw your blood with my own knife. Can you allow that?”

“How much blood?”

“Oh, just a few drops-a pinprick, really. Though if the spell works it will look like far more.”

“If the spell works?”

“Well, it’s probably never been attempted on a shatra before,” Ellador said cheerfully. “I certainly haven’t used it on one!”

“Does that matter?”

Ellador turned up the palm of the hand that was not holding the cloth. “Who can say? But the spell is meant for humans, and as I understand it, you are not fully human.”

“I am not,” Tesk acknowledged.

“Then we won’t know until we try it.”

Tesk considered that, and finally lowered his weapon the rest of the way, though he still did not return it to its place on his back.

“Ideally,” Ellador said, “I would draw blood from your throat. Anywhere will do, though, if you can’t bring yourself to let me get that close.”

“Why would the throat be better?” Garander asked, before Tesk could respond.

“You seemed worried that someone might want to make sure he’s dead by cutting off his head,” Ellador replied. “Well, wherever I cut him, it will appear the flesh in that spot has been cut open clear to the bone. If I nick his throat, just ever so slightly, it will look as if his neck’s been sliced clear to the spine; cutting his head off the rest of the way would be pointless.”

Tesk and Garander exchanged glances. “It will?” Garander asked.

“If the spell works at all, yes.”

“I like that idea,” Garander said.

“It is not your throat,” Tesk retorted. “But I see the wisdom in this.”

“Then shall we proceed?”

“It will last until morning?” Garander asked.

“It will last until at least sundown tomorrow, and will be gone without a trace by dawn of the day after.”

“I am not sure I can allow you to cut me,” Tesk said.

“If I meant you any harm, I wouldn’t be here, plain to see. I could have kept the Mantle of Stealth, after all.”

“It may be that you could not use other magic while it lasted.”

“Well, yes, in fact that’s true, but really, why would I be here, instead of using a spell that would kill you from afar?”

“Yes,” Tesk acknowledged. “Your words are convincing.”

“Then will you trust me to draw some blood from your neck?”

“I am not sure I can allow it.”

“But you just agreed…!”

“I am not sure I can allow it. The demon may object.”

Ellador looked startled. “There really is a demon inside you?”

“Yes,” Tesk replied flatly.

“You doubted it?” Garander asked.

“Well, I haven’t ever seen anything like it before! No one in Ethshar ever knew how to merge a man and a demon.”

Garander had nothing useful to say to that. Instead he suggested, “What if Tesk held your wrist while you make the cut?”

“That might help,” Tesk said.

“All right,” Ellador said. He drew the knife on his belt, and took a step toward the shatra.

Tesk’s hand came up so fast that Garander did not see it move; the black rod was just suddenly there, pointed at the wizard’s heart.

Ellador stopped. “I can’t work the spell without your blood,” he said.

“I know,” Tesk said. Slowly and carefully he returned his weapon to its place on his back; then he reached out and gripped Ellador’s wrist.

Ellador’s face went pale, the change visible even in the faint moonlight. “Do you need to hold it so tight?” he asked.

“I apologize,” Tesk said, and Garander thought he could see the struggle on the shatra’s face as he forced his fingers to loosen their hold.

“That’s better,” the wizard said, as Tesk’s grip relaxed. “Now, guide the blade to your neck.”

Tesk jerked the wizard’s hand closer, forcing Ellador to stumble forward, and then the tip of the shining dagger touched the shatra’s throat.

For a moment nothing more happened; both men stood motionless, staring at one another. Then Ellador jabbed, and Tesk’s fingers tightened; the wizard let out a gasp of pain. Garander started toward them, but before he could intervene Ellador had stepped back, and Tesk had released him.

“I am sorry,” the shatra said. “I warned you. Do you want to try again?”

Ellador began massaging his wrist with his other hand, but looked at Tesk, startled. “Why would I want to try again?” He held up the knife. “That’s enough blood right there.”

Garander could barely see the speck of dark red on the tip of the blade. “It is?” he asked. He looked at Tesk’s throat, and saw the tiniest of scratches, no bigger than a spider’s bite.

“I told you I didn’t need much,” Ellador said, and Garander thought he sounded a bit smug. “Now I need to mark you with it.” He dabbed the index finger of his other hand on the dagger, then reached out and drew a faint line across Tesk’s throat with the blood. The shatra did not resist.

“A few more marks might be useful, but that one will probably do,” the wizard said. Then he waved the dagger in a peculiar zigzag motion, and said something that did not sound like anything that should come from a human throat.

Garander was about to ask a question when the dagger began glowing faintly purple. He stared as the wizard continued his incantation.

Then Ellador finished his chant with a flourish, and lowered the dagger. Garander turned back to Tesk, to see what he thought.

Then he stopped, and swallowed to keep from vomiting.

Tesk’s throat had been laid open clear to the spine, and thick, dark blood was spilling out. The shatra’s face was ashen gray, with bluish blotches on the cheekbones; blood dribbled from his nostrils and the corners of his mouth. He was obviously dead-but still upright, still moving. “Gods!” Garander exclaimed.

“Oh, good,” Ellador said, smiling. “It worked.”

“It…” Garander said, but was unable to force more words out.

“I do not feel anything unusual,” Tesk said, and thick blackened blood ran from his mouth with every word. The effect was appalling.

“There’s no reason you should,” Ellador said. “But if you look in a mirror, you’ll see. And if you need more blood for some reason-say, you don’t think there’s enough on one of your arms-just cough, and you should have plenty.”

Garander swallowed again.

Tesk looked at him. “I feel no different,” he said.

“Believe me, you look different,” Garander told him.

“I’ve done what I promised,” Ellador said. “I’ll be going back to camp now.”

“Yes, of course,” Garander said, still staring in horror at Tesk. “I’ll go with you, so you don’t get lost.”

“Thank you,” the wizard said. “I’d appreciate that.”

Tesk said, “My appearance is different?”

“Oh, yes,” Garander said. “All you have to do is lie still, and no one will doubt you’re dead.”

“You don’t have a heartbeat or a pulse,” Ellador added helpfully. “And no one can hear you breathe or see your chest move.”

“I do not feel different,” Tesk said again.

“We have to go,” Garander said. “You go fetch those supplies we talked about, and find someplace convenient where I can show you to people. Maybe cough some blood on the stuff. I’ll see you in the morning, and we can arrange the viewings.”

“Viewings?” Tesk snorted, spraying clotted blood from his nose. “You make it sound like an exhibition.”

“That’s what it is,” Garander said. “Now, go get your things!”

Looking slightly annoyed, Tesk turned and leapt up into a nearby tree, then vanished in the spring foliage.

Garander did not watch him go; he did not want to look at the ghastly illusion the spell created. Instead he took the Ethsharite wizard by the arm and said, “This way.”