Chapter Seven – Revenge

Akkarin skidded through the main door of the Healing Centre, his face a mask of black fury. The two Healers who had remained turned and saw him and their eyes widened in shock and apprehension. Alya and Garrel stood facing him, their expressions hard and steady; given Sonea's words, they had been expecting him. The limp form of Sonea hung between the Warriors and the other Black Magician. Alya stared contemplatively at Akkarin and then made a gesture with her hand causing Sonea to slowly rotate mid air, until she faced Akkarin. The fair headed Warrior gazed at him intently.

"See how your lover has betrayed us? - Betrayed you." Alya struggled to hide the thrill she felt as she spoke the words at last. "She tried to use black magic and now she has killed a man."

The tall Black Magician stood perfectly still, his gaze flickered to Sonea briefly but he betrayed nothing, though a savage light sprung to life in the depths of his eyes. The tension in the room was palpable and Garrel guessed the situation rested on a knife edge. The Head of Warrior's face broke into a cloying smile and he held out a placatory hand to Akkarin.

"Come, Akkarin; you have been through much these past years, no-one will blame you for looking for companionship and solace. Fortunate for you that Sonea has shown her malcontent before your marriage." Garrel paused, but still Akkarin made no move. The Warrior licked his lips and continued.

"She killed a man. She resisted us and now she has paid the ultimate price; she is dead."

Akkarin's hand moved slowly to slip inside the shirt of his black robes. The two Warrior's eyes never left Akkarin's though the faint hum their shields suddenly sprang to life. The Black Magician's hand clasped something at his neck so tightly that his knuckles went white.

"No," he said in a low charged voice, "she is not." With the last word, and without moving a muscle, Akkarin poured his power into a barrage of forcestrikes that hurled towards Alya and Garrel, easily pushing aside the belated retaliatory strikes sent by his adversaries, before hurtling onwards and crashing into their shields, obliterating them utterly. Garrel and Alya staggered backwards, wide-eyed and gasping; though they had used no small amount of their power in the battle with Sonea, and so were weakened, they were still shocked at the magic that Akkarin commanded, defeating them easily. Garrel's face was a sickly hue; Alya's full of unadulterated rage. The faint hum of a shield buzzed around the two.

"Check the man in there is dead." Akkarin ordered the two ashen faced Healers who had stood clinging to the shadows during the exchange. In the next moment Akkarin was on his knees turning Sonea over where she had fallen during the short battle. He smoothed her hair in his habitual gesture of affection as Healing energy flowed from him into her, loosening her constricted throat, knitting the skin on her hands and knees, soothing the lingering spasms of stunstrike that pulsed through her body. A murmur escaped her lips as he gently wiped blood from them where she had bitten down in her pain and torment. Her eyes flickered and her hand reached out; Akkarin grasped it with long fingers.

"Sonea," he breathed, "you are safe now. I said I would not fail you again." His black eyes burned as he scanned her face intently. Her eyelids still fluttered spasmodically; her face pale. He ran his fingers through the dark coils of her hair.

"Sonea...?" Her eyes suddenly opened and relief washed over the tall magicians face. She drew in a deep breath and began coughing violently, her chest heaving in convulsions. Akkarin said nothing but continued to smooth her hair soothingly. At last her lungs were sated and she slowly relaxed into a rhythmic breathing. Sonea's face was momentarily perplexed, then memory crashed through her mind like a wave. She pushed herself up on her elbows and glanced over her shoulder at the two Warriors still held captive by Akkarin's shield. Akkarin followed her gaze and a dark rage overcame his features once more.

"Pay them no heed; they will be dealt with," he grated.

"Akkarin – please, help me stand." Despite the Healing energy Akkarin had given her, Sonea remained exhausted, something only sleep would remedy, but she did not wish to lie prone on the floor before her enemy. Akkarin placed a hand under her elbow and gently raised her to her feet, placing an arm around her waist and holding her closer than was necessary to support her small frame. They turned to face Alya and Garrel directly, Akkarin's ebony eyes fixing on Alya's icy stare.

"Lady Alya; I would like to introduce you to my betrothed, Lady Sonea. I see that you have already met." And he lifted Sonea's fingers to his lips in a small, but significant gesture. Alya returned Akkarin's glare furiously, her perfect skin flushing scarlet with the effort of containing her rage. Lord Garrel, his sickly tone increasing by the minute, backed away from the Black Magicians until his heels met the obstruction of the restraining shield.

A deadly smile tugged at the corner of Akkarin's mouth. "Now, would either of you care to tell me your true reasons for attacking my future wife – or shall I just kill you now and spare you the trouble." There was a malevolent edge to the Black Magician's voice, and it sliced through the heavily charged atmosphere of the room. Still supporting Sonea, he stepped forwards and casually raised his hand. His smile turned into one of cold satisfaction as he saw the fear flicker in the faces of the two Warriors.

Suddenly, the sound of running feet exploded through the main doors. Balkan, surrounded by several Warriors and closely followed by a group of novices, burst into the room.

"What, in the name of the Eye, is happening here? Garrel, explain yourself!" Balkan demanded, looking at the Warrior in consternation and anger.

Garrel surveyed the magicians who flanked Lord Balkan and , as his eyes met with Regin's, his look of discomfort increased. He looked from Balkan's blustering face to Akkarin's glowering features where he stood, thwarted in his vengeance by the arrival of the magicians. Garrel opened his mouth but no words came out.

"The...Lady Sonea," Alya spoke through gritted teeth as she addressed the High Lord. "Lady Sonea," she continued, "has killed a patient, I believe, in an attempt to take his power with black magic. I disturbed her and unfortunately he bled to death. If you check, I am sure you will find that he held strong latent magic. The temptation was clearly too much to resist. It seems that her ambitions are greater than the Guild after all."

Alya turned her steel grey eyes to Sonea who had begun to shake with shock and fatigue. Akkarin pulled her closer.

"You lie," he said in a dangerously low voice. "They arranged for this man to be brought here at an appointed time. Sonea's escort was mysteriously taken ill giving Garrel the opportunity to bring her here. He then feigned illness in order to leave her alone with a patient and to give Alya the chance to appear and instruct Sonea to use black magic on the man. Alya then planned to leave just in time for Garrel to return and witness the event." Akkarin scowled at Garrel who visibly recoiled.

Balkan frowned. "Why would Sonea do what they asked? It makes no sense."

"Because Alya has my cousin - a four year old boy – at her family house" Sonea turned her face from Akkarin's robes and spoke through chattering teeth.

"I believe that Alya deliberately befriended him for the purpose of forcing my hand. She showed him to me in her memories and told me that if I didn't do her bidding, she had accomplices who would arrange his death at her word." Sonea's eyes glistened with sudden tears.

"Please- can someone be sent to him; he must be so frightened by now."

"She knows I have taken the boy to my heart. She knows I was bringing him to the City today. She has concocted an excuse for her crimes." Alya raged, her face reddening as her composure wavered.

"Enough!" Balkan barked suddenly. "I am afraid, Alya, that I have reason to doubt your word," and he glanced at the brown robed figures in the periphery of his vision.

"Doubt my word?" The Warrior almost choked as she spoke. She muttered a curse but Balkan held up his hand.

"I said enough! Lady Alya, do you accuse Lady Sonea of using, or attempting to use, black magic, and of killing a man in the process?" He stared at the woman sternly and resolutely. Alya took a breath to steady herself.

"Yes, I do."

"Then you will submit to a truth read, as is the law of the Guild. I will perform it. Given the nature of the accusation, you have no objections to my performing it now?" He asked taking a step towards Alya.

Garrel, who had remained silent, finally found his voice.

"There is no need to inconvenience Lady Alya. I accuse Sonea also – I will submit to the truth read." He licked his lips but stepped forwards, smiling.

"My evidence as Head of Warriors carries more weight than Alya's. " He glanced at Alya, " your pardon Lady – I mean no slight." Garrel moved towards the High Lord.

"Balkan - shall we?"

"Did you witness Sonea cut this man's throat?" Balkan frowned and gestured to the now shrouded body beyond, the Healers standing beside him.

"Did you witness Sonea attempt to use black magic?"

"I...I saw her attack the Lady Alya on my return to the room. It was unfortunate that I was taken ill, but fortunate for us all that Alya came across the Black Magician when she did. Now, if you perform the mind read, you will see her wicked attack on one of our finest Warriors who sought nothing more than to constrain her." Again he stepped towards Balkan.

"Lord Garrel, I ask you again – did you witness Sonea use, or attempt to use, black magic?" Balkan remained steadfast and unmoved by Garrel's verbal manoeuvrings.

"No." Garrel replied weakly and his shoulders slumped.

"Then you cannot accuse Sonea of this crime, and therefore cannot submit to the truth read. That leaves Alya. Lady, if you will. Akkarin," Balkan turned to the Black Magicians, "lower your shield around them; there are enough of us here for there to be no threat."

Akkarin did not move and the faint hum of the shield continued into the otherwise silent room.

"Akkarin..." Balkan said warningly.

"They would have killed her, " his voice was unusually raised. "They deliberately caused her pain and torment." Akkarin's features remained as black as his eyes as he continued to regard Garrel and Alya with such malevolence, that it almost appeared as if a dark aura pulsated around him, enveloping Sonea in a protective halo of power.

"Akkarin," Sonea spoke so that only he could hear as she looked up into his pale face.

"Please...Don't become what they are. They cannot win this now. Alya cannot hide the truth in her mind."

They held each other's eyes - black on deeper black – then Akkarin touched Sonea's cheek, gently running his finger down the line of her scar.

"As you wish it," he said softly.

The buzzing of the shield abruptly stopped and some of the tension in the room dissipated.

"Lady Alya," Balkan gestured for her to approach him as he stood next to the Black Magicians.

"Come." He nodded at her as she hesitated and did not move. Then, glancing at Garrel, who now looked puce, she slowly walked towards the High Lord, her face hard and proud.

"Know the truth then! Look hard and deep and know everything, " she said bitterly, her voice harsh and rasping.

"Know what your precious Guild has denied me - and itself. I am one of its greatest Warriors and yet you do not even know it! My own family see me as nothing more than a brood mare who did not bring home the first prize."

Tears of anger and bitterness filled her eyes as she glanced to Akkarin. Years of pent frustrations and rejections finally over-spilling. She grabbed Balkan's hands and placed them viciously on her temples.

"I have nothing to hide anymore , and I am not ashamed." She spoke now to the room.

"I am true to myself," she glanced at the faces that stared at her, "unlike you snivelling dogs who beg at the slum girl and her lover's table for scraps, when mere weeks ago you would have kicked them like disobedient hounds!" ALya then looked levelly at Balkan, her features smoothing into calmness.

"Do it!" She said savagely.

Balkan closed his eyes, but all others were fixed on the pair. The air in the room was still, not even disturbed by the inhaling and exhaling of breath. Finally the High Lord opened his eyes and they were filled with a detached sympathy as he regarded Alya intently. His hands fell to his sides and his head moved in a barely perceptible nod at the proud woman who stood before him. He took a breath and glanced around the room.

"Sonea speaks the truth. Lady Alya and Lord Garrel have plotted to force Sonea into using black magic. Today, Sonea thwarted their scheme with a talent for forced mind reading that was, until now, unknown." He shot a sideways glance at Sonea, his lips slightly pursed.

"Alya and Garrel can request a secondary truth read, as is their right, but for now they will be taken into custody and the King informed. It will be decided amongst the Higher Magicians of course, but the usual punishment for a crime of this magnitude would be a binding of powers and expulsion from the Guild." Balkan's eyes fastened on Garrel's as he gasped and reeled backwards. Balkan turned to Alya, and he could not hide the disgust on his face.

"Lady Alya, you crime is the most serious; the murdering of an innocent civilian by someone in your priviledged position sickens me. Yoy are likely to spend the rest of your life in prison - or worse; again the decision is not only mine."

"Lord Tyrell," the High Lord indicated one of the Warriors at his side. "You and your men take these two to the holding cells at the Guild rather than the City Prison; they will need magical containment – at least four Warriors to each of them at any one time. I know this will not be easy; they are of your own." Balkan shook his head as he spoke. "But they have caused disruption at a time when it was least needed."

Balkan held the two accused with a hard stare. He sighed. "Take them," he ordered. The Warrior nodded grimly and moved towards Garrel, taking his arm and leading him forward. Another Warrior walked towards Alya.

Garrel's face flushed with humiliation and he walked briskly by the black gaze of Akkarin. As he approached the novices, Garrel hesitated and glanced up at the taller figure of his nephew.

"Regin, I...I did it for us; our family, the other Houses. We cannot be tainted, our nobility diluted."

Regin bit down on his cheeks, his expression cold and unbending.

"I would have thought that way too once; but Thieves saved my life, and a girl from the Slums saved my City." Regin's gaze flickered to Sonea as she stood, still being supported by Akkarin. Regin swallowed hard and buried feelings that rose unbidden to the surface of his mind.

Bury them for good, he thought as he glanced again to the two Black Magicians as they stood in each other's embrace. Bury them so deep that they will never trouble you again. He turned his attention back to his uncle who stood, still searching for some understanding in his nephew's face.

"You shame our family." Then Regin slowly and deliberately turned his back on his uncle, standing to face Akkarin and Sonea, bowing his head slightly to them. One by one, the other novices and onlookers followed suit, each turning their backs to Garrel and Alya, and making their show of respect to the Black Magicians.

"Get your filthy hands off me!" The shriek of Alya broke the interlude as she struggled against the Warrior who had taken her arm to lead her after Garrel. She shook at the young man's hand violently and, embarrassed and uncertain, he let go.

"I will go willingly – I have that much pride left," she spat. Balkan nodded to the guard at Alya's side who then gestured for her to follow Garrel as he fell in step behind. She walked slowly, her hands in the folds of her cloak, stony faced and chin held high.

As she approached the Black Magicians, her eyes shifted to meet the malign glitter of Akkarin's. A sudden flash of raging fire momentarily melted the iciness of her composed features. Memories stabbed at her like a knife thrust. Memories that she had hidden deep all these years; hidden even from herself, though the part of Alya's soul that was simply a woman had secretly cherished and nurtured them.

No-one reacted immediately; most were still resolutely ignoring the captives. The High Lord intent on Garrel, a sadness in his gaze as it bore into the back of the Warrior as he was led away. Akkarin was looking down at Sonea as he held her, his lips brushing the top of her head. Only when a flash of bright golden hair whipped suddenly in the edge of his vision, did he glance up sharply and realise what was afoot.

Alya was screaming, obscenities and curses tore from her throat, her teeth bared and spittle forming on her lips. Her face was twisted almost beyond recognition. She pulled her hand from beneath her cloak and the bloodied silver of the knife she had used earlier sheared upwards in an arc as she lunged towards Sonea.

Two things happened then. Regin, who was the nearest to Alya as she turned in her attack, grabbed at the woman as she bore down with murderous intent on Sonea. The novice managed to grab the hood of Alya's cloak before she tore free and continued her onslaught; but Regin's act had delayed her momentum for a fraction of a second. In that split second, Akkarin pushed Sonea to the floor, out of the way of the arcing knife that was slicing through the air towards them.

Akkarin did not cry out as the blade came glittering at his unprotected body , taking its first sacrifice of blood from his upraised arm before it bit greedily through silk and flesh, burying itself between his ribs. Alya backed away, her mouth moving in a spasmodic grin of shocked pleasure. The victim was not the intended one, but no matter, her vengeance was taken.

Sonea, lay sprawled and rigid in the stone floor her dark eyes fathomless.

"Akkarin..." she whispered before utter silence descended on the shocked room like a veil.

Akkarin's hand dropped and his long fingers locked around the hilt of the knife as it protruded obscenely from his body. He sagged to his knees coughing – a film dulling his jet black stare. His head turned to Sonea and, for a moment, their eyes met, then blood, almost as black as his robes cascaded from his mouth and he keeled sideways onto the cold stone floor.

A/N: Thanks for reading; please review. Ooops! Just read Kyralian's review and realised that when I wrote of the punishment I was only thinking of Garrel - totally overlooked the fact that Alya had killed a man! Whilst I like to think of myself as a social liberal, I'm not quite that forgiving! I've now redressed the balance!

To answer one of the guest reviewers questions about the last chapter, Garrel only hesitated because he was assessing if the plan he and Alya had concocted could still work before he went along with the changed circumstances - definately no feelings of concern for Sonea involved in his decision making!