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Flying South: The prologue:
FLYING SOUTH
by Sue Isle
Prologue: Flowers of Blood
In the calm darkness of the nursery, Varimonde, the heir to the throne, lay silently in the darkness. A gurgle came from the ornately carved baby’s cradle on the far side of the room. She hoped her little brother wouldn’t start crying. It was always worse when he cried. She told herself she would wait until the things had come and gone before she called nurse. If she called nurse right away, then they always came back. Once nurse had said she must have made Cavris cry, to get attention for herself.
The darkness was growing on the wall. Varimonde lay with covers pulled up to her chin. She knew better than to hide. The things could throw covers off without touching them. They bloomed out of the tracery of moonlight on stone, like dark flowers of mist turning to a bearded human face, which saw her and smiled with black, jagged teeth against moonlight.
Varimonde whimpered, or tried to, but no sound came from her. She tried to say, “Nurse?” but couldn’t speak either.
The thing in the wall smiled and reached arms out of the wall towards her. She tried to think: they’re only shadows, only shadows. It worked until she felt the cold grip of fingers around her neck.
The two young men walked quickly along the back street of the Throne City, anxious to have their errand over so that they could return. One was tall and sandy-haired, the other dark and of more compact build. The overhanging second storeys of the buildings made their path even darker than it would have been in the open, though the sun was not long from setting and the autumn wind blew chill. Even so, it was early for the street to be deserted. A call from above made both duck in close to a shop wall, barely avoiding the bucketful of slops which fell down into the central gutter. They did this with practised ease, but the dark youth cursed ruefully as they continued on their way.
“This robe’s for the laundry when I return.”
“You’re getting slow, Vidar.”
“You were in my way.”
Geofrey only laughed, but he thought there was a touch of genuine offence in the voice of his fellow priest. Vidar was only just made a Star-priest, seven days gone, and his dignity was an important thing to him. Geofrey was still only a senior novice in the order of the Star-Brother and he hoped he wouldn’t be quite so pompous when he was finally invested. Perhaps it was only that Vidar was a noble’s son and Geofrey’s father was a merchant, with more of a sense that he had to work for what he wanted.
The narrow street, perhaps only a dozen strides wide, twisted right and upwards, becoming quite steep. Ahead to their left was a heavy wooden door, three steps up from the street. The windows above were latched shut and they couldn’t see any light or hear voices. Geofrey and Vidar looked at one another. “They have to be here,” Geofrey said, shrugging. He waited but Vidar made no move, so Geofrey ascended the steps and thumped the heavy iron knocker against the oak door. It seemed like a long wait before they heard bolts being drawn and the door pushed open just enough for the person inside to see them.
“Can I help you, Brothers?”
“We need to consult with the Witch-Mother Bethna,” Vidar said, remembering his senior status.
“She’s away from the Order House,” said their informant, barely visible, but Geofrey thought she was probably only in her late teens despite her strictly officious voice. “My name is Audryn, senior novice. Is there anything I can do for you?”
The girl managed to carry in her voice a sense that Geofrey and Vidar were beyond any possible assistance, but that nevertheless, Audryn felt herself able to solve any difficulty they might have. Had their errand been less grim, Geofrey would have smiled, but as it was, he only felt irritated and anxious that they might have to return and tell Abbot Renfred there was no help from the Aradian sorceresses, their sister order. He wished he could complain to someone about the fact that only women could use magic, but as the Abbot had so often said, “Complain to the God and His Sister. They’re the ones who set it up that way, not me!”
“We need a skrying,” Geofrey said.
“From Star-priests. We are honoured. It must be a very important matter to bring you here after dark.”
“Why?” said Geofrey.
The girl was shaken off her stride. “What?”
“Why do you say that it’s unusual for us to be here after dark?”
“Well, everyone’s rather wary, that’s all,” Audryn said, and her needling tone was gone. “What is it now, five children who have gone missing from their homes in the past six weeks? But why are you here about that, if it is that? That’s the task of the City Guard, not priests.”
“We only want someone to scry for the kidnapper, not pursue,” Geofrey said patiently. “I have the Abbot’s authorisation. We don’t believe it can wait.”
“Some noble’s child has disappeared, hm?” Audryn asked, turning a slow look on him, then Vidar. “What’s the going rate now? Five peasants to one noble, or is it ten?”
Vidar looked ready to explode. Geofrey cast a warning look at him and pulled a parchment out from the leather case he carried. He unfolded it meticulously and handed it to the young sorceress. She read it with equal care and handed it back. “All right,” she said. “You can come in and observe.”
Audryn turned about and the door opened at her touch. Geofrey shrugged at his friend and followed her in. The interior was a hall, quite dark, from which a stairway began almost at their feet. Two children were playing further back in the hall; girls of eight to twelve years, though Geofrey was vague about that. They giggled nervously at the sight of Star-priests and retreated to the protection of the open kitchen doorway. Another young woman could be glimpsed there doing dishes. Audryn ignored them and led the way upstairs, the stairs creaking dramatically at each step.
“I thought sorceresses could call light,” Geofrey said from close behind.
“That’s right,” Audryn agreed and let them think about that. As she entered the first room off the landing, she flicked a hand towards the wall and a lantern there burst alight. Vidar and Geofrey collided with one another and Vidar grunted in pain as Geofrey stepped on his foot. “Sorry, I thought you said you wanted light,” Audryn said innocently.
In the revealed room, which was the only place most non-Order visitors ever saw, were the trade tools. The Star-priests looked disappointed to see only plain shelves containing a few bowls, candles and bottles as well as the usual linens to be seen in any household. The plank floor was swept clean and there were no symbols painted or engraven thereon. Audryn went to the shelf she wanted and chose a bowl. She set it down on the floor and brought over a bottle, emptying what proved to be water into the smooth grayish white shape of the bowl. “Please sit down,” she said, indicating the bare floor. “One moment.” She walked to the door and called downstairs, “Sindry? Gera? I’m doing a seeing now and I don’t want to be disturbed. If anyone comes to the door and you don’t know them, tell them to come back in the morning, all right? In fact, tell anyone to come back in the morning.”
With that she closed the door and crossed the room, still quite shadowy with only a single lantern to give light. Geofrey and Vidar had rather awkwardly obeyed her and sat down. It wasn’t as though they didn’t have to do this with their own instructors often enough but they had not expected this lack of ceremony from the Aradians.
“Aren’t you going to shield the room?” Geofrey asked curiously.
“I’m not doing a major magic,” Audryn told him. “Shielding takes a lot of energy and I’d rather not, if I don’t have to. All I’m going to do is look for your killer. I’ll most likely see someone, but remember that the description I give you might not be your murderer. If you have someone already strongly in mind, I might see him, even if he’s not actually guilty. So try to clear your minds. You haven’t done this before, have you?”
“No,” said Geofrey. Vidar did not reply.
Audryn knelt, tucking her gown beneath her to provide a cushion. “Do you have any item belonging to any of the children or found at the last place they were seen?”
Geofrey wordlessly held out a small embroidered shoe. Vidar looked at him intently as though wanting to question why he knew so well what was needed. Audryn took the shoe and closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at the water. To Geofrey and Vidar, the water was black and indistinct, with only a little light shining on it from the wall lantern.
Audryn reminded herself, as though it was Witch-mother Bethna speaking, that she was going to see unpleasant things and that she must stay cool, she wasn’t going to help anyone by getting hysterical. The owner of the shoe was likely already dead. But she did wish the Order House senior hadn’t chosen this night to be absent. She had no intention of telling the Star-priests, but it was the first time she’d been the one consulted.
So she looked steadily at the black water and asked it to deliver up the secrets it held concerning the wearer of the shoe.
There was the expected child, four or five years old, richly dressed, which confirmed her guess that the child of a noble house had been snatched and this had prompted the Crown to order the Star-priests into action, where they would have shrugged off the disappearance of a street child. That it was the Star-priests and not the city guard also suggested they knew more than they were telling about the reason, but that wasn’t something she needed. Audryn forced herself to focus. The child was in a very expensively-furnished nursery, sitting on the floor playing with some kind of spinning toy – a top painted with bright stripes. Evening; lanterns were on the wall and the warm glow of a nearby fire throwing black shadows on the wall over the child’s head. Nothing else. This was a memory, not an actual scry of something happening, so she could not seek further to identify what adults were nearby. Of a certainty there would be a nursemaid or some sort of servant to watch the child. Back to the shadows. Audryn frowned, watching the dancing light of red and black, shading the child’s face as he or she – hard to tell – looked up briefly, then back to the game. Then the shadows changed. They grew, as though someone had thrown more fuel on the fire and caused it to flare up, but there was no change in the flames, only in the shadows, which became jagged and moved violently in a way which made Audryn think of branches whipping about in a storm. Still the child made no move. Then the shadows took a new and terrible shape, a distinct man-form, hands reaching out from the wall over the oblivious child. Audryn’s throat caught, she wanted to scream, she knew it would be useless. She studied the shadowy visage as thoroughly as she could. A moment later hands shot out and the child did look up, in startled horror. The hands were real, Audryn saw, and forced herself to study every detail. They seized the little one around the neck and dragged. The grip prevented the child from crying out and it was so strong that the child was dragged backwards into the shadows, which immediately became the normal quiet reflection of a fire. The room was now empty and terrifyingly silent and calm.
Audryn heard a sound and realised it was herself gasping. She had held her breath and forgotten to let go again. She reached up to rub her eyes and try to dispel the insane images which danced there. “Are you all right?” one of the young Star-priests asked. Geofrey, the tall sandy-haired one.
“What did you see?” Vidar asked.
Audryn closed her eyes again briefly. Later to scream. Now, she must give every detail as precisely as she could, which was very precise after eight years of training. Later to think of the insanity. She opened her mouth and told them what she had seen. They wanted to know everything, from the child’s clothing to the furnishings of the nursery. Guessing they wanted to confirm she had actually seen the right child, Audryn made no objections, she just told them. Describing the shadow figure was harder; there was no clue of colours to guide her. In the end she got a pencil and a scrap of parchment and sketched it as best she could. She was a fair artist, but the figure could have been any one of a thousand men. Any one, of course, with the talent to hide himself in shadow and manifest with sufficient solidity to seize a victim and then drag that victim into shadow.
“No,” she said in answer to Vidar’s prodding, “no Aradian sorceress knows how to do that. I haven’t seen anything like that. There are other magical orders, some of whom don’t exist nowadays but there are records somewhere. Not here. Perhaps you should check your own archives.”
“We don’t . . .” Vidar began but halted again. Audryn grinned ironically. He might have been going to say the Star-priests didn’t study black magic, which of course they did. You had to know your enemy. It might not be their central focus, but it was there. Bethna had passed on rumours she had heard, that the Star-priests were forming a special sub-group within their order whose task it would be to identify and stamp out usage of black magic. Their definition of black magic was not known. She wondered, as she smiled at them, whether these young priests yet knew that they might become part of an inquisition.
“How can we find this person?” Geofrey asked, tension in his voice increasing.
“I thought you said you didn’t want pursuit,” Audryn replied. “Unless you have something belonging to him, I can’t track him down, and he melted into shadow, like the shadows of that lantern there. I would if I could – there are six children gone now – but I don’t have enough to go on. This child’s family – do they have enemies? You might do better talking to them.”
“Do not instruct us, girl,” Vidar snapped.
“Then do your task,” Audryn responded, still smiling. “On what I know, I can do nothing. But I’m a senior novice, as I said, and the full sorceresses will be back tomorrow night, so perhaps they can do more.” She studied them thoughtfully. “You barely look old enough to be full Star-priests. If this is so serious, why doesn’t the Abbot send for the Witch-Mother?”
“They are busy,” Geofrey answered after so long a pause that she thought he wasn’t going to tell her. “Very busy. Sister Audryn, I have other items with which I would like you to scry.”
“All of them,” Audryn said flatly. It was not a question. She glared at them. “You want me to see the deaths of all those children.”
“You didn’t describe a death,” Vidar said.
“I saw a child choked around the neck, Brother.” She snapped off the word. “He or she couldn’t breathe and was so frightened . . .” She stopped and waited until she could speak clearly before going on. “If that child is somehow still alive, it won’t ever be normal.” She paused again. “Could I hold the shoe again?”
Geofrey handed it to her. Audryn gazed at it in her hand for a moment and then said softly. “This is the royal princess.”
“Yes,” Geofrey said as quietly.
“Give me the other things.”
In answer, Geofrey pulled a number of small items out of the bag he carried. Another shoe. A tiny cap; plain brown wool. A knitted scarf. A hand-carved marble that rolled badly when he put it on the floor. A rag doll. Audryn picked up the doll and looked at it, noting that the doll’s dress was of silk, the “rags” of finest wool. “Two children of nobles,” she recited. “A beggar girl. The child of a street seller, the child of a carter.” Carefully she handled each item, then frowned in surprise. “All girls,” she said. “All under the age of eight years.” Several long minutes later, she put the items down and looked at Geofrey. “I believe that he first five children are dead,” she said flatly. “The princess could still be alive. Why hasn’t Queen Catherine alerted us yet?”
“By “us” you mean the Aradian Sorceresses?” Geofrey asked and the girl nodded. “The Queen is plagued by bad dreams,” the young priest said carefully. “She believes sorceresses send her those dreams and we have been ordered to find proof.”
“Is that why you’ve come? Because you believe we’re doing this? That we’re stealing children?” Audryn glanced at Vidar. “You believe it.” She got to her feet and smoothed out her gown, glaring at the two priests, who hastily climbed to their feet also. “All right. That’s it. Mother Bethna will be back soon and I’ll report to her. She will contact your Abbot and provide whatever help is required.”
Damn, Geofrey thought, watching Audryn’s face. He had just made her believe she didn’t dare help them any more. He had expected he’d have to step in to prevent Vidar threatening a sorceress, not do it himself. The Abbot had sent them precisely because they were so low-ranking in the Order. It was unusual for grey-garbed Star-priests to be seen coming here, yes, but not unheard-of. They were sibling Orders, after all. But for the Abbot to arrive here in his carriage would create talk. Right now, the Queen needed things kept as quiet as possible.
Audryn made an unmistakable gesture towards the door: they were to leave. Vidar stalked through it, ignoring the girl as though she was a servant. Geofrey followed him, trying to control the prickling feeling at the base of his neck, as though Audryn’s stare could ignite a flame there and burn him to ashes. Which it most likely could.
They walked back through the streets as quickly as possible, again dodging dumpings of night soil from above, but meeting no other person in the eerily ghostly quiet. Within the gateway of the Star-Brother monastery, Geofrey paused and Vidar glanced impatiently at him. “Come on. The sooner we report to the porter, sooner we’re out of this wind.”
“Will you report for me as well, Vidar? I just remembered that one of the seniors asked me to come and see him today and we’re almost out of today.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the cottages where the retired priests lived and were maintained in reasonable comfort by the novices.
Vidar laughed. “Trust you, Geof. I’m sure you actually encouraged the old man to call you. Just think, in another few weeks those chores will be behind you.”
“And I’ll have another set to occupy my time, don’t forget. Good night to you.”
One of the best things about eighty-year-old Brother Anlon, Geofrey thought as he turned about, was that yesterday, today and tomorrow were almost the same thing to him. He made sure Vidar was out of sight before he hastened back down the street the way they had come a few minutes before.
Abbot Renfred had told Geofrey he could pursue this matter as he saw fit. That he, the Abbot, respected Geofrey’s discretion and intelligence and hoped he would remember those qualities. He had not specified any limits. Geofrey hoped what he was about to do would not go too far beyond any limits the Abbot might have in mind. He knew he wasn’t the only one on the task, by any means, but Renfred was too careful and too canny to let him in on the rest of the plans.
Audryn had not been at all willing to open the door again but finally she did. It was well after full dark and she carried a small lantern now, which she hung on a peg beside the door. “What do you want?” she said flatly. From the top step, she could look down on the young priest, despite his height.
“The problem is more than kidnapping,” Geofrey said, terrified at being overheard but knowing he had to tell her. “What you won’t know, unless your powers are far greater than I’m aware, was that there were two murders beyond that. I don’t wish to say any more in the open street.”
Audryn looked at him for a moment before she backed through the door and led him into the kitchen. “It’s warmer here,” she said. The smells of baking and of stew still warmed the air, but she did not offer him any food or drink. Geofrey wished she would but he wasn’t going to ask. “Well?” Audryn demanded. She sat down at a long scrubbed wooden table. He sat on the opposite bench.
“The Royal Brother and the Queen’s Consort have been assassinated,” Geofrey said, aware of a prickling alarm at having said the words, even in a supposed sanctuary. “No weapons seemed to have been used. Each man was found dead in his chamber. No sign of poison was found.”
Audryn did not say this didn’t mean poison could not have been used, for which Geofrey was grateful. She seemed willing to assume basic intelligence, or at least basic desperation, in him.
“What is being done about the Queen?” she asked.
Geofrey shrugged helplessly. “Her physicians are with her. That’s all I have been told. Abbot Renfred called me in this morning and told me what I have just told you. The royal castle is like a bee swarm. No one knows what to do.”
“So in essence the country is not being governed?”
“Right.”
“But someone has to.”
“Someone will, eventually. The advisers are being summoned – several of them were out of the capital.”
Both thought about this for awhile and then Audryn asked, “Would you like some tea?”
“I haven’t had dinner, actually.”
Audryn watched him clean the bowl which had held stew, then eat the bread. “You really were hungry. Listen, something just occurred to me and I don’t know why it didn’t before. I don’t actually know where Bethna and Fiora are; the Witch-Mother just said they had to go away and I was in charge. Do you suppose they’re already working on finding the Princess?”
“I would say so. It is beyond belief that they would leave it to us,” Geofrey said emphatically. “I haven’t even done anything worth speaking of yet. You saw images of a child being taken by a shadow thing, which I suppose confirms it was sorcery, but we had guessed that. I don’t know how it furthers the search.” He put down the bowl and looked at her, seeing her face in the dim red glow from the banked kitchen fire. “Audryn – if we’re right and your Witch-Mother and senior have already been summoned, why would Abbot Renfred send me here? I don’t mean any insult . . .”
“I know,” Audryn said, a touch impatiently. “Bethna knows I can skry so she would have told your abbot, but there’s no point. He could have asked her to skry for him – it doesn’t matter where the task is done.”
Geofrey frowned, recalling his earlier thoughts. He and Vidar had been sent because no one would notice them and as the abbot had said, things needed to be kept quiet.
“So no one is watching us,” he said aloud. He looked at Audryn again, saw her sudden startled understanding.
“We don’t know anything and no one knows us,” she said. “So what can we do about it?” He tried to think of an intelligent answer – somehow he wanted her to think of him as intelligent – but soon saw that Audryn wasn’t talking to him. She got up and began to walk around the kitchen. “Geofrey – if I had someone specific to look for, I could skry for him, do a here-and-now seeing. I’m not supposed to do that, but do you think your abbot’s authorisation would cover that? If you were here to oversee? Find the killer of the Royal Brother and the Consort, we find whoever abducted Varimonde, I’m sure of it. They were in the way, he got them out of the way, but he needed the child – why?”
“Wait,” Geofrey interrupted. Audryn did stop and give him an indignant look, but she waited.
“Why “he”?”
“I don’t know, it just came to mind,” she said, then frowned. “I did get a specific sense of “he” when I was scrying. I thought it was just because the shadow-form was that of a man, but a sorceress could represent herself as anything she wanted. That doesn’t make sense, though, a man couldn’t do sorcery.”
“Are you sure?” Geofrey pressed, though she was only saying what he too had been taught. “Can’t you think of any circumstance where a male could do active sorcery?”
Audryn gave him an uneasy look and turned about to pace some more. Though her gown was the blue of an Aradian novice, she had all the self-possession of a full sorceress when she walked like that, he thought. He looked thoughtfully at her, wondering whether she always kept her hair tied up in a bun like that. It looked like it would be long and shining brown if let loose. Firmly he wrenched his thoughts away from that – it would be a bad time to find out that sorceresses really could read minds – and back to the task.
“I don’t know,” Audryn said quietly, turning back to him. “I really don’t know enough. I hate to say that. I’ve been here since I was ten years old and I’ve read every book in our library at least twice, but I don’t know. I’m not sure it matters. A sorceress could be rogue, she could be operating on behalf of a man who wanted something or other by killing the Queen’s Royal Brother and Consort and stealing the princess. What about the young Royal Brother, by the way, the baby? You haven’t said anything about him.”
“He’s fine,” Geofrey said. “At least by omission: I don’t think the abbot mentioned him.”
“All right. So we need to break the law, Geofrey. You need to give me the details of anyone close enough to the Queen to benefit by these murders and kidnapping. Then I have to take a look at them, enough of a look to learn very personal things. Will you help me?”
She meant: will you allow this? Am I going to be arrested if I do this? Geofrey swallowed, suddenly wishing he could consult Renfred right now and ask what to do.
“I’ll help you,” he said.
“Good. This is going to take a long time and I need to prepare. I’m going to have to wake Sindry to help me, she’s the next eldest here. Wait here until one of us comes to get you.”
Geofrey was rather discomfited to discover that Sindry was a girl of about fourteen, but her cool stare prevented him from expressing any doubts. Like Audryn, Sindry didn’t seem to know what the word doubt meant. The two prepared the room while he waited outside on the landing. When they called him in, he couldn’t see anything different, but there was an atmosphere of tautness, of waiting and he could smell incense drifting into the corners. On the floor was a black bowl he had not seen before. It was full of water, reflecting from the candles set about it.
“Sit here,” Audryn said, indicating the bare boards. “You’re going to be very bored but you will have to stay still and silent.”
“How can I give you the details you need then?”
“I will take them from your mind,” Audryn said. “Only those details touching this matter, I promise, and only with your permission. You can still refuse.”
Her stare was challenging. Geofrey wondered how she could possibly select one strand of memory from another – were they jumbled together like marbles? There were quite a few embarrassing incidents, times when he had acted unkindly or foolishly, and he was no more willing than anyone to have those brought to light.
“I give my permission,” he said.
“Sindry will guard me,” Audryn said. “I won’t be aware of anything except what I seek, not even my own body. My heartbeat could become dangerously swift, for example, and if that happens she will draw me back. So you must not speak to her or break her concentration in any way.”
“How long do you think this will take?”
“Possibly all night. When do you have to be back?”
Geofrey grimaced. “Forget that. I shouldn’t even be out. But if I’m not back by morning, they may come looking.”
Audryn shrugged that off. “Very well. You stand within a spell, Geofrey, you may not leave this room until we clear it. When I stop speaking, I will begin my work and you must remain still and silent from that moment on.”
At first he didn’t realise she had stopped and it took Sindry’s impatient look and gesture before he hastily settled himself crosslegged on the ground. He was well used to long periods of prayer and meditation, but he thought this could be the most arduous yet. He watched Audryn bend over the bowl of water and silently prayed for her success.
************************************************
The buzzing of flies and the metallic smell of blood fill the air of the summer night. In a dusty attic, a dead child, about seven years old, lies on the bare floor and a group of seven men stand about her. They are richly dressed, imposing in their wealth and arrogance, but the most frightening thing about them is the way they ignore the child, as though she was a dead insect lying on the floor to be swept away.
“We had the power for an entire night with this one,” one of the men says in a tone of persuasion. “Perhaps the younger they are, the stronger as vessels of power.”
“No, the age has little to do with potential, so long as they are below the age when they can actively use their magical energy,” another man, ginger-bearded, corrects.
“It went well,” a third says. He is dark-haired, dark-eyed and wears a jacket of black velvet, sombre against the bright finery of his companions. “And you are right, Roger, it is not the age. That one,” he gestures at the body, “would have been the equal of any Witch-mother. And the power shows up anywhere. Remember the beggar child? She gave us far more active power than either of the nobles.” He glances aside from the body to the attic corner where a child no more than five is bound and gagged. Princess Varimonde’s eyes are blank with panic; she is no longer able to think.
“I am not sure how effective she will be as a power source,” he says slowly. “The royal line has attempted to breed out magical ability – Catherine is not the first to distrust it.”
“But the princess has some magical potential?” the ginger-bearded man asks his dark companion.
“Oh yes, but more girl children have it than you might think. In latent form. Only a few will become sorceresses, however.”
“We don’t need to keep her,” another man points out. “We went through all that.”
“If we kill the princess, we will have power enough to re-enter the palace in wraith form and destroy Catherine in a moment,” ginger beard points out. “The disappearance of the princess has them in wild disarray, my informants tell me. They are searching the city but finding nothing, of course. You are Catherine’s closest cousin, Warwick, and you have a sister who will obey you and be a perfect, pliant Queen to your Royal Brother. Let us move now and clear the last remaining obstacles from our path. Once you rule, we will have access to as many potential sorceresses as we need to access magic ourselves.”
“I thought we were going to keep Catherine in place as Queen,” complains the noble who doesn’t believe they need to keep the princess, crossing the floor to confront Warwick. “She’ll be amenable enough, you’ve been using spells on her for that purpose for several moons now, or so I thought.”
The dark man shakes his head. “Catherine’s mind is fraying. I would not be able to rely on her silence – the spells would have to be remade constantly and if we take too many children, someone will notice, no matter what our position.” He studies the frozen child thoughtfully. “Keep her alive for now. If we kill her, her death must be at such a time as to give maximum benefit. It may be that with the death of her Consort and Royal Brother, I may yet move closer to Catherine without another blow being necessary …”
He stops speaking and frowns, then glances around as though looking for something. His gaze fixes on nothing.
********************************************
Audryn was not sure what to do. She had never experienced this, that the subject of a skry should be aware of her, but the dark man, “Warwick”, was staring towards where she would be, had she a body in the attic. She shifted her focus, “moving” along a wall above the head of the little princess, but Warwick turned, studying her. His dark gaze was considering and cold. Behind him, the other six men – nobles, Audryn was sure – were calling to him, asking what was the matter.
Audryn was aware of a terrible steady drumming of power and it centred in Warwick, the dark eyes which searched for her. It smelled of metal – no, blood – and her skry-gaze was drawn back to the limp body of the child, to the gash in her throat. She had been killed like livestock, the parts wanted used like livestock, the rest dumped. These men hadn’t wanted any part of her body, only her magical ability. Abruptly Audryn understood. These were men, sorcerers, unable to freely access magical ability themselves, for that was the province of women. But they could access it through the death of another, of sacrifice. Even unwilling sacrifice would do, though the power imparted would be shortlived. She sensed no power in the other six men now. Only Warwick still possessed it and it would fade from him, unless he killed again very soon – and killed a girlchild with the potential to become a sorceress.
Audryn fixed her attention on the face of each man in turn, for she would have to remember them in waking life. Then she withdrew her spirit from the vicinity. Or tried to.
Her eyes were drawn back to the dark glittering stare of Warwick.
She couldn’t move.
A look of panic crossed Sindry’s face. “I can’t reach her,” the young girl gasped. “She’s trapped.”
“How trapped? She’s here, we can wake her, can’t we?” Geofrey demanded. As he moved, agonising cramps shot through a leg and he grimaced, hastily gripping the leg to rub it. Only a few feet away, Audryn sat oblivious, apparently calm, staring at the dark water within the black bowl.
“She should be responding. No, don’t touch her.”
“Audryn!” Geofrey said, close by Audryn’s ear. “Come back! It’s Geofrey, come back to us.”
Geofrey's voice was very faint, somewhere behind Audryn, but she could not turn her head. The dark bearded face of Warwick was more solid than it had been and she was aware of standing, feeling the presence of people around her. Warwick’s six men. Someone cried out in confusion, another man swore.
“Come to us,” Warwick said softly. “I command you, whoever you are, to come to us and show yourself.”
“She’s fading,” Sindry cried and Geofrey saw it. Audryn seemed fainter, he could see the boards on the other side of her, through her. Her dark hair was becoming lighter, ghostly. She never moved and her expression did not change.
Desperately, Geofrey lunged at her and wrapped his arms around her. He felt flesh but she seemed far lighter than she should have been and his move brought both of them falling to the floor. Audryn grunted as though all the air had been pushed out of her and as Geofrey lay sprawled with his arms around her, he felt solidity return to her flesh. A moment later Audryn opened her eyes. She stared into Geofrey’s stunned face for a moment and then delivered a well-aimed kick, considering the situation, to his shin.
“Ow!”
He let her go and scrambled to his feet. So did Audryn. Sindry was babbling about being unable to reach her, trying to stop Geofrey touching her, until Audryn shouted, “Stop! Stop!”
They did.
“Sorry I kicked you but you startled me,” she said to Geofrey. “I also think I should thank you for saving my life. I’m not sure how he did it, but he was pulling me through to them. I was very nearly solid over there and if he’d got me, I don’t think I would have come out.”
“Solid? Who got you?”
“Our man,” Audryn said. She swallowed, looking at Geofrey and Sindry’s faces. “He has Varimonde. The other children are definitely all dead. We have to go to the palace and direct the search.”
“Can you find where you were?” Geofrey interrupted, incredulous.
“I can find my own trail if I go very quickly. Geofrey, you have to get your abbot and bring him to Carter’s Lane, you know where that is? Nearest the Horse Fair end. Sindry, you’re in charge here. Let no one in, not even the Witch-mother. I mean it; these creatures use illusion spells among other things.”
“I don’t know how I would stop her,” Sindry said, but they ignored her.
“Abbot Renfred isn’t going to believe me,” Geofrey said, contemplating how he was going to drag the abbot out of bed.
“I think he will. If he’s not at your monastery, then you have to get the next most senior. Tell them to alert the Royal Guards. Move!”
The lights were on within the abbot’s dwelling, more lights than one would expect for an elderly man reading in his bedchamber. There were several priests doing guard duty outside, but Geofrey bolted past all of them to hammer on the inner door. He had only hammered once when the door opened to reveal not only Renfred but Witch-mother Bethna. Geofrey was too exhausted from his run through the city to be surprised. He thought Audryn had put him beyond all surprise forever. He stared blankly at Renfred, who was shorter and stockier than he was and completely bald. Somehow none of that ever seemed to matter. He had twice the personal presence of anyone Geofrey had met, with the possible exceptions of Audryn and the Witch-mother.
“Ah, Geof,” Renfred said amiably. “Right on time. Where are we to go?”
“Is Audryn going ahead?” Bethna asked. She was a tall slim woman with reddish hair held back in a bun and her gaze speared Geofrey.
“Ah, yes . . . Carter’s Lane . . . the Royal Guards . . .”
“On their way,” Renfred said.
The smell of blood and death in the upper room was even worse than Audryn had experienced in the skry and her near-presence at the urging of Warwick. Bethna stood at the bottom of the stairs and said quietly that there were no enemies in the room now, it was safe for them to go up. The guards should search the surrounding area. She then led the way, followed by Audryn and Geofrey.
The dead child still lay in the centre of the room. There was no sign of any of the men, but in a corner, curled up and silent with terror, was five-year-old Princess Varimonde.
Bethna gathered up the child and swept out with her.
Geofrey and Audryn hastily followed her back out and down a creaky flight of steps to the street. The belated Royal Guard, which had caught them up as they left the monastery, had left two of their number behind. The others were gone in search of the conspirator/ kidnappers. With near-silent efficiency, one guardsman gathered up Bethna’s precious burden and departed with her on horseback, closely matched by the other. The street was again its usual silent, dingy self, giving no hint of the deeds which had been performed above it.
Only Bethna, Audryn and Geofrey remained.
“Renfred has gone to the palace to report,” the Witch-mother told her novice and the young Star-priest. “He will say nothing about the role of the Aradians in this matter.” Audryn opened her mouth to object and then shut it again. “Yes,” Bethna said sternly to her. “And more. Both of you, remember that this did not happen. The Princess was never taken. Any deaths of which you may know were accidents only, or illness. Remember this. We will take steps to ensure its like never comes to pass again. Novice Geofrey, your abbot will talk with you further on this.”
She looked about the dark street, up at the overhanging buildings, as though to seek out any eavesdroppers. None presented themselves. “We will go home now,” she announced to Audryn, who detached herself from Geofrey’s side where she had somehow wound up and gave him a tired little wave in farewell. There were no words, no thanks, only a peace about them for which the very air and stones seemed grateful.
FLYING SOUTH
by Sue Isle
Prologue: Flowers of Blood
In the calm darkness of the nursery, Varimonde, the heir to the throne, lay silently in the darkness. A gurgle came from the ornately carved baby’s cradle on the far side of the room. She hoped her little brother wouldn’t start crying. It was always worse when he cried. She told herself she would wait until the things had come and gone before she called nurse. If she called nurse right away, then they always came back. Once nurse had said she must have made Cavris cry, to get attention for herself.
The darkness was growing on the wall. Varimonde lay with covers pulled up to her chin. She knew better than to hide. The things could throw covers off without touching them. They bloomed out of the tracery of moonlight on stone, like dark flowers of mist turning to a bearded human face, which saw her and smiled with black, jagged teeth against moonlight.
Varimonde whimpered, or tried to, but no sound came from her. She tried to say, “Nurse?” but couldn’t speak either.
The thing in the wall smiled and reached arms out of the wall towards her. She tried to think: they’re only shadows, only shadows. It worked until she felt the cold grip of fingers around her neck.
The two young men walked quickly along the back street of the Throne City, anxious to have their errand over so that they could return. One was tall and sandy-haired, the other dark and of more compact build. The overhanging second storeys of the buildings made their path even darker than it would have been in the open, though the sun was not long from setting and the autumn wind blew chill. Even so, it was early for the street to be deserted. A call from above made both duck in close to a shop wall, barely avoiding the bucketful of slops which fell down into the central gutter. They did this with practised ease, but the dark youth cursed ruefully as they continued on their way.
“This robe’s for the laundry when I return.”
“You’re getting slow, Vidar.”
“You were in my way.”
Geofrey only laughed, but he thought there was a touch of genuine offence in the voice of his fellow priest. Vidar was only just made a Star-priest, seven days gone, and his dignity was an important thing to him. Geofrey was still only a senior novice in the order of the Star-Brother and he hoped he wouldn’t be quite so pompous when he was finally invested. Perhaps it was only that Vidar was a noble’s son and Geofrey’s father was a merchant, with more of a sense that he had to work for what he wanted.
The narrow street, perhaps only a dozen strides wide, twisted right and upwards, becoming quite steep. Ahead to their left was a heavy wooden door, three steps up from the street. The windows above were latched shut and they couldn’t see any light or hear voices. Geofrey and Vidar looked at one another. “They have to be here,” Geofrey said, shrugging. He waited but Vidar made no move, so Geofrey ascended the steps and thumped the heavy iron knocker against the oak door. It seemed like a long wait before they heard bolts being drawn and the door pushed open just enough for the person inside to see them.
“Can I help you, Brothers?”
“We need to consult with the Witch-Mother Bethna,” Vidar said, remembering his senior status.
“She’s away from the Order House,” said their informant, barely visible, but Geofrey thought she was probably only in her late teens despite her strictly officious voice. “My name is Audryn, senior novice. Is there anything I can do for you?”
The girl managed to carry in her voice a sense that Geofrey and Vidar were beyond any possible assistance, but that nevertheless, Audryn felt herself able to solve any difficulty they might have. Had their errand been less grim, Geofrey would have smiled, but as it was, he only felt irritated and anxious that they might have to return and tell Abbot Renfred there was no help from the Aradian sorceresses, their sister order. He wished he could complain to someone about the fact that only women could use magic, but as the Abbot had so often said, “Complain to the God and His Sister. They’re the ones who set it up that way, not me!”
“We need a skrying,” Geofrey said.
“From Star-priests. We are honoured. It must be a very important matter to bring you here after dark.”
“Why?” said Geofrey.
The girl was shaken off her stride. “What?”
“Why do you say that it’s unusual for us to be here after dark?”
“Well, everyone’s rather wary, that’s all,” Audryn said, and her needling tone was gone. “What is it now, five children who have gone missing from their homes in the past six weeks? But why are you here about that, if it is that? That’s the task of the City Guard, not priests.”
“We only want someone to scry for the kidnapper, not pursue,” Geofrey said patiently. “I have the Abbot’s authorisation. We don’t believe it can wait.”
“Some noble’s child has disappeared, hm?” Audryn asked, turning a slow look on him, then Vidar. “What’s the going rate now? Five peasants to one noble, or is it ten?”
Vidar looked ready to explode. Geofrey cast a warning look at him and pulled a parchment out from the leather case he carried. He unfolded it meticulously and handed it to the young sorceress. She read it with equal care and handed it back. “All right,” she said. “You can come in and observe.”
Audryn turned about and the door opened at her touch. Geofrey shrugged at his friend and followed her in. The interior was a hall, quite dark, from which a stairway began almost at their feet. Two children were playing further back in the hall; girls of eight to twelve years, though Geofrey was vague about that. They giggled nervously at the sight of Star-priests and retreated to the protection of the open kitchen doorway. Another young woman could be glimpsed there doing dishes. Audryn ignored them and led the way upstairs, the stairs creaking dramatically at each step.
“I thought sorceresses could call light,” Geofrey said from close behind.
“That’s right,” Audryn agreed and let them think about that. As she entered the first room off the landing, she flicked a hand towards the wall and a lantern there burst alight. Vidar and Geofrey collided with one another and Vidar grunted in pain as Geofrey stepped on his foot. “Sorry, I thought you said you wanted light,” Audryn said innocently.
In the revealed room, which was the only place most non-Order visitors ever saw, were the trade tools. The Star-priests looked disappointed to see only plain shelves containing a few bowls, candles and bottles as well as the usual linens to be seen in any household. The plank floor was swept clean and there were no symbols painted or engraven thereon. Audryn went to the shelf she wanted and chose a bowl. She set it down on the floor and brought over a bottle, emptying what proved to be water into the smooth grayish white shape of the bowl. “Please sit down,” she said, indicating the bare floor. “One moment.” She walked to the door and called downstairs, “Sindry? Gera? I’m doing a seeing now and I don’t want to be disturbed. If anyone comes to the door and you don’t know them, tell them to come back in the morning, all right? In fact, tell anyone to come back in the morning.”
With that she closed the door and crossed the room, still quite shadowy with only a single lantern to give light. Geofrey and Vidar had rather awkwardly obeyed her and sat down. It wasn’t as though they didn’t have to do this with their own instructors often enough but they had not expected this lack of ceremony from the Aradians.
“Aren’t you going to shield the room?” Geofrey asked curiously.
“I’m not doing a major magic,” Audryn told him. “Shielding takes a lot of energy and I’d rather not, if I don’t have to. All I’m going to do is look for your killer. I’ll most likely see someone, but remember that the description I give you might not be your murderer. If you have someone already strongly in mind, I might see him, even if he’s not actually guilty. So try to clear your minds. You haven’t done this before, have you?”
“No,” said Geofrey. Vidar did not reply.
Audryn knelt, tucking her gown beneath her to provide a cushion. “Do you have any item belonging to any of the children or found at the last place they were seen?”
Geofrey wordlessly held out a small embroidered shoe. Vidar looked at him intently as though wanting to question why he knew so well what was needed. Audryn took the shoe and closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them to look at the water. To Geofrey and Vidar, the water was black and indistinct, with only a little light shining on it from the wall lantern.
Audryn reminded herself, as though it was Witch-mother Bethna speaking, that she was going to see unpleasant things and that she must stay cool, she wasn’t going to help anyone by getting hysterical. The owner of the shoe was likely already dead. But she did wish the Order House senior hadn’t chosen this night to be absent. She had no intention of telling the Star-priests, but it was the first time she’d been the one consulted.
So she looked steadily at the black water and asked it to deliver up the secrets it held concerning the wearer of the shoe.
There was the expected child, four or five years old, richly dressed, which confirmed her guess that the child of a noble house had been snatched and this had prompted the Crown to order the Star-priests into action, where they would have shrugged off the disappearance of a street child. That it was the Star-priests and not the city guard also suggested they knew more than they were telling about the reason, but that wasn’t something she needed. Audryn forced herself to focus. The child was in a very expensively-furnished nursery, sitting on the floor playing with some kind of spinning toy – a top painted with bright stripes. Evening; lanterns were on the wall and the warm glow of a nearby fire throwing black shadows on the wall over the child’s head. Nothing else. This was a memory, not an actual scry of something happening, so she could not seek further to identify what adults were nearby. Of a certainty there would be a nursemaid or some sort of servant to watch the child. Back to the shadows. Audryn frowned, watching the dancing light of red and black, shading the child’s face as he or she – hard to tell – looked up briefly, then back to the game. Then the shadows changed. They grew, as though someone had thrown more fuel on the fire and caused it to flare up, but there was no change in the flames, only in the shadows, which became jagged and moved violently in a way which made Audryn think of branches whipping about in a storm. Still the child made no move. Then the shadows took a new and terrible shape, a distinct man-form, hands reaching out from the wall over the oblivious child. Audryn’s throat caught, she wanted to scream, she knew it would be useless. She studied the shadowy visage as thoroughly as she could. A moment later hands shot out and the child did look up, in startled horror. The hands were real, Audryn saw, and forced herself to study every detail. They seized the little one around the neck and dragged. The grip prevented the child from crying out and it was so strong that the child was dragged backwards into the shadows, which immediately became the normal quiet reflection of a fire. The room was now empty and terrifyingly silent and calm.
Audryn heard a sound and realised it was herself gasping. She had held her breath and forgotten to let go again. She reached up to rub her eyes and try to dispel the insane images which danced there. “Are you all right?” one of the young Star-priests asked. Geofrey, the tall sandy-haired one.
“What did you see?” Vidar asked.
Audryn closed her eyes again briefly. Later to scream. Now, she must give every detail as precisely as she could, which was very precise after eight years of training. Later to think of the insanity. She opened her mouth and told them what she had seen. They wanted to know everything, from the child’s clothing to the furnishings of the nursery. Guessing they wanted to confirm she had actually seen the right child, Audryn made no objections, she just told them. Describing the shadow figure was harder; there was no clue of colours to guide her. In the end she got a pencil and a scrap of parchment and sketched it as best she could. She was a fair artist, but the figure could have been any one of a thousand men. Any one, of course, with the talent to hide himself in shadow and manifest with sufficient solidity to seize a victim and then drag that victim into shadow.
“No,” she said in answer to Vidar’s prodding, “no Aradian sorceress knows how to do that. I haven’t seen anything like that. There are other magical orders, some of whom don’t exist nowadays but there are records somewhere. Not here. Perhaps you should check your own archives.”
“We don’t . . .” Vidar began but halted again. Audryn grinned ironically. He might have been going to say the Star-priests didn’t study black magic, which of course they did. You had to know your enemy. It might not be their central focus, but it was there. Bethna had passed on rumours she had heard, that the Star-priests were forming a special sub-group within their order whose task it would be to identify and stamp out usage of black magic. Their definition of black magic was not known. She wondered, as she smiled at them, whether these young priests yet knew that they might become part of an inquisition.
“How can we find this person?” Geofrey asked, tension in his voice increasing.
“I thought you said you didn’t want pursuit,” Audryn replied. “Unless you have something belonging to him, I can’t track him down, and he melted into shadow, like the shadows of that lantern there. I would if I could – there are six children gone now – but I don’t have enough to go on. This child’s family – do they have enemies? You might do better talking to them.”
“Do not instruct us, girl,” Vidar snapped.
“Then do your task,” Audryn responded, still smiling. “On what I know, I can do nothing. But I’m a senior novice, as I said, and the full sorceresses will be back tomorrow night, so perhaps they can do more.” She studied them thoughtfully. “You barely look old enough to be full Star-priests. If this is so serious, why doesn’t the Abbot send for the Witch-Mother?”
“They are busy,” Geofrey answered after so long a pause that she thought he wasn’t going to tell her. “Very busy. Sister Audryn, I have other items with which I would like you to scry.”
“All of them,” Audryn said flatly. It was not a question. She glared at them. “You want me to see the deaths of all those children.”
“You didn’t describe a death,” Vidar said.
“I saw a child choked around the neck, Brother.” She snapped off the word. “He or she couldn’t breathe and was so frightened . . .” She stopped and waited until she could speak clearly before going on. “If that child is somehow still alive, it won’t ever be normal.” She paused again. “Could I hold the shoe again?”
Geofrey handed it to her. Audryn gazed at it in her hand for a moment and then said softly. “This is the royal princess.”
“Yes,” Geofrey said as quietly.
“Give me the other things.”
In answer, Geofrey pulled a number of small items out of the bag he carried. Another shoe. A tiny cap; plain brown wool. A knitted scarf. A hand-carved marble that rolled badly when he put it on the floor. A rag doll. Audryn picked up the doll and looked at it, noting that the doll’s dress was of silk, the “rags” of finest wool. “Two children of nobles,” she recited. “A beggar girl. The child of a street seller, the child of a carter.” Carefully she handled each item, then frowned in surprise. “All girls,” she said. “All under the age of eight years.” Several long minutes later, she put the items down and looked at Geofrey. “I believe that he first five children are dead,” she said flatly. “The princess could still be alive. Why hasn’t Queen Catherine alerted us yet?”
“By “us” you mean the Aradian Sorceresses?” Geofrey asked and the girl nodded. “The Queen is plagued by bad dreams,” the young priest said carefully. “She believes sorceresses send her those dreams and we have been ordered to find proof.”
“Is that why you’ve come? Because you believe we’re doing this? That we’re stealing children?” Audryn glanced at Vidar. “You believe it.” She got to her feet and smoothed out her gown, glaring at the two priests, who hastily climbed to their feet also. “All right. That’s it. Mother Bethna will be back soon and I’ll report to her. She will contact your Abbot and provide whatever help is required.”
Damn, Geofrey thought, watching Audryn’s face. He had just made her believe she didn’t dare help them any more. He had expected he’d have to step in to prevent Vidar threatening a sorceress, not do it himself. The Abbot had sent them precisely because they were so low-ranking in the Order. It was unusual for grey-garbed Star-priests to be seen coming here, yes, but not unheard-of. They were sibling Orders, after all. But for the Abbot to arrive here in his carriage would create talk. Right now, the Queen needed things kept as quiet as possible.
Audryn made an unmistakable gesture towards the door: they were to leave. Vidar stalked through it, ignoring the girl as though she was a servant. Geofrey followed him, trying to control the prickling feeling at the base of his neck, as though Audryn’s stare could ignite a flame there and burn him to ashes. Which it most likely could.
They walked back through the streets as quickly as possible, again dodging dumpings of night soil from above, but meeting no other person in the eerily ghostly quiet. Within the gateway of the Star-Brother monastery, Geofrey paused and Vidar glanced impatiently at him. “Come on. The sooner we report to the porter, sooner we’re out of this wind.”
“Will you report for me as well, Vidar? I just remembered that one of the seniors asked me to come and see him today and we’re almost out of today.” He gestured vaguely in the direction of the cottages where the retired priests lived and were maintained in reasonable comfort by the novices.
Vidar laughed. “Trust you, Geof. I’m sure you actually encouraged the old man to call you. Just think, in another few weeks those chores will be behind you.”
“And I’ll have another set to occupy my time, don’t forget. Good night to you.”
One of the best things about eighty-year-old Brother Anlon, Geofrey thought as he turned about, was that yesterday, today and tomorrow were almost the same thing to him. He made sure Vidar was out of sight before he hastened back down the street the way they had come a few minutes before.
Abbot Renfred had told Geofrey he could pursue this matter as he saw fit. That he, the Abbot, respected Geofrey’s discretion and intelligence and hoped he would remember those qualities. He had not specified any limits. Geofrey hoped what he was about to do would not go too far beyond any limits the Abbot might have in mind. He knew he wasn’t the only one on the task, by any means, but Renfred was too careful and too canny to let him in on the rest of the plans.
Audryn had not been at all willing to open the door again but finally she did. It was well after full dark and she carried a small lantern now, which she hung on a peg beside the door. “What do you want?” she said flatly. From the top step, she could look down on the young priest, despite his height.
“The problem is more than kidnapping,” Geofrey said, terrified at being overheard but knowing he had to tell her. “What you won’t know, unless your powers are far greater than I’m aware, was that there were two murders beyond that. I don’t wish to say any more in the open street.”
Audryn looked at him for a moment before she backed through the door and led him into the kitchen. “It’s warmer here,” she said. The smells of baking and of stew still warmed the air, but she did not offer him any food or drink. Geofrey wished she would but he wasn’t going to ask. “Well?” Audryn demanded. She sat down at a long scrubbed wooden table. He sat on the opposite bench.
“The Royal Brother and the Queen’s Consort have been assassinated,” Geofrey said, aware of a prickling alarm at having said the words, even in a supposed sanctuary. “No weapons seemed to have been used. Each man was found dead in his chamber. No sign of poison was found.”
Audryn did not say this didn’t mean poison could not have been used, for which Geofrey was grateful. She seemed willing to assume basic intelligence, or at least basic desperation, in him.
“What is being done about the Queen?” she asked.
Geofrey shrugged helplessly. “Her physicians are with her. That’s all I have been told. Abbot Renfred called me in this morning and told me what I have just told you. The royal castle is like a bee swarm. No one knows what to do.”
“So in essence the country is not being governed?”
“Right.”
“But someone has to.”
“Someone will, eventually. The advisers are being summoned – several of them were out of the capital.”
Both thought about this for awhile and then Audryn asked, “Would you like some tea?”
“I haven’t had dinner, actually.”
Audryn watched him clean the bowl which had held stew, then eat the bread. “You really were hungry. Listen, something just occurred to me and I don’t know why it didn’t before. I don’t actually know where Bethna and Fiora are; the Witch-Mother just said they had to go away and I was in charge. Do you suppose they’re already working on finding the Princess?”
“I would say so. It is beyond belief that they would leave it to us,” Geofrey said emphatically. “I haven’t even done anything worth speaking of yet. You saw images of a child being taken by a shadow thing, which I suppose confirms it was sorcery, but we had guessed that. I don’t know how it furthers the search.” He put down the bowl and looked at her, seeing her face in the dim red glow from the banked kitchen fire. “Audryn – if we’re right and your Witch-Mother and senior have already been summoned, why would Abbot Renfred send me here? I don’t mean any insult . . .”
“I know,” Audryn said, a touch impatiently. “Bethna knows I can skry so she would have told your abbot, but there’s no point. He could have asked her to skry for him – it doesn’t matter where the task is done.”
Geofrey frowned, recalling his earlier thoughts. He and Vidar had been sent because no one would notice them and as the abbot had said, things needed to be kept quiet.
“So no one is watching us,” he said aloud. He looked at Audryn again, saw her sudden startled understanding.
“We don’t know anything and no one knows us,” she said. “So what can we do about it?” He tried to think of an intelligent answer – somehow he wanted her to think of him as intelligent – but soon saw that Audryn wasn’t talking to him. She got up and began to walk around the kitchen. “Geofrey – if I had someone specific to look for, I could skry for him, do a here-and-now seeing. I’m not supposed to do that, but do you think your abbot’s authorisation would cover that? If you were here to oversee? Find the killer of the Royal Brother and the Consort, we find whoever abducted Varimonde, I’m sure of it. They were in the way, he got them out of the way, but he needed the child – why?”
“Wait,” Geofrey interrupted. Audryn did stop and give him an indignant look, but she waited.
“Why “he”?”
“I don’t know, it just came to mind,” she said, then frowned. “I did get a specific sense of “he” when I was scrying. I thought it was just because the shadow-form was that of a man, but a sorceress could represent herself as anything she wanted. That doesn’t make sense, though, a man couldn’t do sorcery.”
“Are you sure?” Geofrey pressed, though she was only saying what he too had been taught. “Can’t you think of any circumstance where a male could do active sorcery?”
Audryn gave him an uneasy look and turned about to pace some more. Though her gown was the blue of an Aradian novice, she had all the self-possession of a full sorceress when she walked like that, he thought. He looked thoughtfully at her, wondering whether she always kept her hair tied up in a bun like that. It looked like it would be long and shining brown if let loose. Firmly he wrenched his thoughts away from that – it would be a bad time to find out that sorceresses really could read minds – and back to the task.
“I don’t know,” Audryn said quietly, turning back to him. “I really don’t know enough. I hate to say that. I’ve been here since I was ten years old and I’ve read every book in our library at least twice, but I don’t know. I’m not sure it matters. A sorceress could be rogue, she could be operating on behalf of a man who wanted something or other by killing the Queen’s Royal Brother and Consort and stealing the princess. What about the young Royal Brother, by the way, the baby? You haven’t said anything about him.”
“He’s fine,” Geofrey said. “At least by omission: I don’t think the abbot mentioned him.”
“All right. So we need to break the law, Geofrey. You need to give me the details of anyone close enough to the Queen to benefit by these murders and kidnapping. Then I have to take a look at them, enough of a look to learn very personal things. Will you help me?”
She meant: will you allow this? Am I going to be arrested if I do this? Geofrey swallowed, suddenly wishing he could consult Renfred right now and ask what to do.
“I’ll help you,” he said.
“Good. This is going to take a long time and I need to prepare. I’m going to have to wake Sindry to help me, she’s the next eldest here. Wait here until one of us comes to get you.”
Geofrey was rather discomfited to discover that Sindry was a girl of about fourteen, but her cool stare prevented him from expressing any doubts. Like Audryn, Sindry didn’t seem to know what the word doubt meant. The two prepared the room while he waited outside on the landing. When they called him in, he couldn’t see anything different, but there was an atmosphere of tautness, of waiting and he could smell incense drifting into the corners. On the floor was a black bowl he had not seen before. It was full of water, reflecting from the candles set about it.
“Sit here,” Audryn said, indicating the bare boards. “You’re going to be very bored but you will have to stay still and silent.”
“How can I give you the details you need then?”
“I will take them from your mind,” Audryn said. “Only those details touching this matter, I promise, and only with your permission. You can still refuse.”
Her stare was challenging. Geofrey wondered how she could possibly select one strand of memory from another – were they jumbled together like marbles? There were quite a few embarrassing incidents, times when he had acted unkindly or foolishly, and he was no more willing than anyone to have those brought to light.
“I give my permission,” he said.
“Sindry will guard me,” Audryn said. “I won’t be aware of anything except what I seek, not even my own body. My heartbeat could become dangerously swift, for example, and if that happens she will draw me back. So you must not speak to her or break her concentration in any way.”
“How long do you think this will take?”
“Possibly all night. When do you have to be back?”
Geofrey grimaced. “Forget that. I shouldn’t even be out. But if I’m not back by morning, they may come looking.”
Audryn shrugged that off. “Very well. You stand within a spell, Geofrey, you may not leave this room until we clear it. When I stop speaking, I will begin my work and you must remain still and silent from that moment on.”
At first he didn’t realise she had stopped and it took Sindry’s impatient look and gesture before he hastily settled himself crosslegged on the ground. He was well used to long periods of prayer and meditation, but he thought this could be the most arduous yet. He watched Audryn bend over the bowl of water and silently prayed for her success.
************************************************
The buzzing of flies and the metallic smell of blood fill the air of the summer night. In a dusty attic, a dead child, about seven years old, lies on the bare floor and a group of seven men stand about her. They are richly dressed, imposing in their wealth and arrogance, but the most frightening thing about them is the way they ignore the child, as though she was a dead insect lying on the floor to be swept away.
“We had the power for an entire night with this one,” one of the men says in a tone of persuasion. “Perhaps the younger they are, the stronger as vessels of power.”
“No, the age has little to do with potential, so long as they are below the age when they can actively use their magical energy,” another man, ginger-bearded, corrects.
“It went well,” a third says. He is dark-haired, dark-eyed and wears a jacket of black velvet, sombre against the bright finery of his companions. “And you are right, Roger, it is not the age. That one,” he gestures at the body, “would have been the equal of any Witch-mother. And the power shows up anywhere. Remember the beggar child? She gave us far more active power than either of the nobles.” He glances aside from the body to the attic corner where a child no more than five is bound and gagged. Princess Varimonde’s eyes are blank with panic; she is no longer able to think.
“I am not sure how effective she will be as a power source,” he says slowly. “The royal line has attempted to breed out magical ability – Catherine is not the first to distrust it.”
“But the princess has some magical potential?” the ginger-bearded man asks his dark companion.
“Oh yes, but more girl children have it than you might think. In latent form. Only a few will become sorceresses, however.”
“We don’t need to keep her,” another man points out. “We went through all that.”
“If we kill the princess, we will have power enough to re-enter the palace in wraith form and destroy Catherine in a moment,” ginger beard points out. “The disappearance of the princess has them in wild disarray, my informants tell me. They are searching the city but finding nothing, of course. You are Catherine’s closest cousin, Warwick, and you have a sister who will obey you and be a perfect, pliant Queen to your Royal Brother. Let us move now and clear the last remaining obstacles from our path. Once you rule, we will have access to as many potential sorceresses as we need to access magic ourselves.”
“I thought we were going to keep Catherine in place as Queen,” complains the noble who doesn’t believe they need to keep the princess, crossing the floor to confront Warwick. “She’ll be amenable enough, you’ve been using spells on her for that purpose for several moons now, or so I thought.”
The dark man shakes his head. “Catherine’s mind is fraying. I would not be able to rely on her silence – the spells would have to be remade constantly and if we take too many children, someone will notice, no matter what our position.” He studies the frozen child thoughtfully. “Keep her alive for now. If we kill her, her death must be at such a time as to give maximum benefit. It may be that with the death of her Consort and Royal Brother, I may yet move closer to Catherine without another blow being necessary …”
He stops speaking and frowns, then glances around as though looking for something. His gaze fixes on nothing.
********************************************
Audryn was not sure what to do. She had never experienced this, that the subject of a skry should be aware of her, but the dark man, “Warwick”, was staring towards where she would be, had she a body in the attic. She shifted her focus, “moving” along a wall above the head of the little princess, but Warwick turned, studying her. His dark gaze was considering and cold. Behind him, the other six men – nobles, Audryn was sure – were calling to him, asking what was the matter.
Audryn was aware of a terrible steady drumming of power and it centred in Warwick, the dark eyes which searched for her. It smelled of metal – no, blood – and her skry-gaze was drawn back to the limp body of the child, to the gash in her throat. She had been killed like livestock, the parts wanted used like livestock, the rest dumped. These men hadn’t wanted any part of her body, only her magical ability. Abruptly Audryn understood. These were men, sorcerers, unable to freely access magical ability themselves, for that was the province of women. But they could access it through the death of another, of sacrifice. Even unwilling sacrifice would do, though the power imparted would be shortlived. She sensed no power in the other six men now. Only Warwick still possessed it and it would fade from him, unless he killed again very soon – and killed a girlchild with the potential to become a sorceress.
Audryn fixed her attention on the face of each man in turn, for she would have to remember them in waking life. Then she withdrew her spirit from the vicinity. Or tried to.
Her eyes were drawn back to the dark glittering stare of Warwick.
She couldn’t move.
A look of panic crossed Sindry’s face. “I can’t reach her,” the young girl gasped. “She’s trapped.”
“How trapped? She’s here, we can wake her, can’t we?” Geofrey demanded. As he moved, agonising cramps shot through a leg and he grimaced, hastily gripping the leg to rub it. Only a few feet away, Audryn sat oblivious, apparently calm, staring at the dark water within the black bowl.
“She should be responding. No, don’t touch her.”
“Audryn!” Geofrey said, close by Audryn’s ear. “Come back! It’s Geofrey, come back to us.”
Geofrey's voice was very faint, somewhere behind Audryn, but she could not turn her head. The dark bearded face of Warwick was more solid than it had been and she was aware of standing, feeling the presence of people around her. Warwick’s six men. Someone cried out in confusion, another man swore.
“Come to us,” Warwick said softly. “I command you, whoever you are, to come to us and show yourself.”
“She’s fading,” Sindry cried and Geofrey saw it. Audryn seemed fainter, he could see the boards on the other side of her, through her. Her dark hair was becoming lighter, ghostly. She never moved and her expression did not change.
Desperately, Geofrey lunged at her and wrapped his arms around her. He felt flesh but she seemed far lighter than she should have been and his move brought both of them falling to the floor. Audryn grunted as though all the air had been pushed out of her and as Geofrey lay sprawled with his arms around her, he felt solidity return to her flesh. A moment later Audryn opened her eyes. She stared into Geofrey’s stunned face for a moment and then delivered a well-aimed kick, considering the situation, to his shin.
“Ow!”
He let her go and scrambled to his feet. So did Audryn. Sindry was babbling about being unable to reach her, trying to stop Geofrey touching her, until Audryn shouted, “Stop! Stop!”
They did.
“Sorry I kicked you but you startled me,” she said to Geofrey. “I also think I should thank you for saving my life. I’m not sure how he did it, but he was pulling me through to them. I was very nearly solid over there and if he’d got me, I don’t think I would have come out.”
“Solid? Who got you?”
“Our man,” Audryn said. She swallowed, looking at Geofrey and Sindry’s faces. “He has Varimonde. The other children are definitely all dead. We have to go to the palace and direct the search.”
“Can you find where you were?” Geofrey interrupted, incredulous.
“I can find my own trail if I go very quickly. Geofrey, you have to get your abbot and bring him to Carter’s Lane, you know where that is? Nearest the Horse Fair end. Sindry, you’re in charge here. Let no one in, not even the Witch-mother. I mean it; these creatures use illusion spells among other things.”
“I don’t know how I would stop her,” Sindry said, but they ignored her.
“Abbot Renfred isn’t going to believe me,” Geofrey said, contemplating how he was going to drag the abbot out of bed.
“I think he will. If he’s not at your monastery, then you have to get the next most senior. Tell them to alert the Royal Guards. Move!”
The lights were on within the abbot’s dwelling, more lights than one would expect for an elderly man reading in his bedchamber. There were several priests doing guard duty outside, but Geofrey bolted past all of them to hammer on the inner door. He had only hammered once when the door opened to reveal not only Renfred but Witch-mother Bethna. Geofrey was too exhausted from his run through the city to be surprised. He thought Audryn had put him beyond all surprise forever. He stared blankly at Renfred, who was shorter and stockier than he was and completely bald. Somehow none of that ever seemed to matter. He had twice the personal presence of anyone Geofrey had met, with the possible exceptions of Audryn and the Witch-mother.
“Ah, Geof,” Renfred said amiably. “Right on time. Where are we to go?”
“Is Audryn going ahead?” Bethna asked. She was a tall slim woman with reddish hair held back in a bun and her gaze speared Geofrey.
“Ah, yes . . . Carter’s Lane . . . the Royal Guards . . .”
“On their way,” Renfred said.
The smell of blood and death in the upper room was even worse than Audryn had experienced in the skry and her near-presence at the urging of Warwick. Bethna stood at the bottom of the stairs and said quietly that there were no enemies in the room now, it was safe for them to go up. The guards should search the surrounding area. She then led the way, followed by Audryn and Geofrey.
The dead child still lay in the centre of the room. There was no sign of any of the men, but in a corner, curled up and silent with terror, was five-year-old Princess Varimonde.
Bethna gathered up the child and swept out with her.
Geofrey and Audryn hastily followed her back out and down a creaky flight of steps to the street. The belated Royal Guard, which had caught them up as they left the monastery, had left two of their number behind. The others were gone in search of the conspirator/ kidnappers. With near-silent efficiency, one guardsman gathered up Bethna’s precious burden and departed with her on horseback, closely matched by the other. The street was again its usual silent, dingy self, giving no hint of the deeds which had been performed above it.
Only Bethna, Audryn and Geofrey remained.
“Renfred has gone to the palace to report,” the Witch-mother told her novice and the young Star-priest. “He will say nothing about the role of the Aradians in this matter.” Audryn opened her mouth to object and then shut it again. “Yes,” Bethna said sternly to her. “And more. Both of you, remember that this did not happen. The Princess was never taken. Any deaths of which you may know were accidents only, or illness. Remember this. We will take steps to ensure its like never comes to pass again. Novice Geofrey, your abbot will talk with you further on this.”
She looked about the dark street, up at the overhanging buildings, as though to seek out any eavesdroppers. None presented themselves. “We will go home now,” she announced to Audryn, who detached herself from Geofrey’s side where she had somehow wound up and gave him a tired little wave in farewell. There were no words, no thanks, only a peace about them for which the very air and stones seemed grateful.
Markets
Just a thought ...
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Sue
Re: Markets
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