A/N: Slightly longer chapter here to make up for the last couple of short ones. Thanks for your reviews for the last chapter- I've rewritten/uploaded it to include certain references to eyes. ;)
888
Tundra
Chapter 9: The Murderer
888
The sickness spread through the ship like wildfire.
In a panic, the sailors headed for the nearest port, praying they would reach it in time to abandon their shipmates and strike out on their own, away from the illness and the stench of death. As each one fell, the paranoia grew. Shipmates of many years wouldn't go near one another, no-one ate from the same dish and tasks that needed more than one person were treated like death sentences. Sailors climbed into the rigging and onto the cabin roofs with their hammocks, desperate not to sleep in the large communal cabin that had served as a dorm before.
The captain died; no one rushed to fill the empty position. The doctor died, as futile in healing himself as he had been in healing any of the other men. Warriors died, some falling into the sleep even as they practiced pattern dances on the deck. The bodies were no longer wrapped in canvas, they were simply thrown overboard like rubbish.
Numair had forbidden Daine to go anywhere near the sick, on literal pain of death. He himself studied the plague with his gift at every opportunity, looking for trace amounts of the gift that would identify the person who had cast it. Ged accompanied him, translating for some of the sick people who were still conscious. Daine promised to stay away from the sick, but then figured that there was no way she could avoid the illness on the ship, so she kept trying to speak to the screaming voice.
It was very confusing. She was absolutely sure it must be an animal, because she was the only person who could hear it. But animals didn't have magic- at least, not the sort of magic to make people ill. And why wouldn't it talk to her? After the first silence, when the cabin boy had almost woken up, the screaming continued uninterrupted. She tried reasoning with it, arguing with it, comforting it and even screaming back at it, but nothing seemed to work.
On the fifth day after the first person had fallen ill, the ship grated against shallows. Although the ship was over a mile from the shore, many of the sailors jumped into the water and swam desperately to the land. They shrieked at the freezing water, some of them crying out in pain as their muscles cramped, but continued their limping swim towards the shore. The Shang warriors acted with more decorum, but even they couldn't help tapping their feet impatiently as the shore-boats were lowered into the waves. Ged was among the first to leave the ship, making a decided point of not looking back.
"Hurrying won't do them any good, anyway," Numair murmured as they watched the sailors swim to shore, "The locals must have spotted the ship. There's a greeting party, look."
He pointed to the small grey beach that the swimmers were heading for. Sure enough, a large group of people had gathered along the shoreline. Several of them walked forward, leisurely pulling swimmers out of the water and pointing them in the direction of another group, who were apparently in charge.
The sailors followed the directions numbly, unable to believe that over three quarters of their shipmates had died in just five days. The locals bent their heads to them confidingly as the sailors babbled out their story, gesturing back to the ship wildly and shivering in the winter breeze.
Daine and Numair were in one of the last boats to reach the land. By this point, their shipmates had all been directed to a large fire and were talking quietly in subdued voices. There was an air of relief in the way they talked about their escape.
"Do they think that they won't get sick, just because they've left the ship?" Numair muttered frustratedly, "Idiots!"
"It might have been the ship..." Daine said absently, "None of the other ships headed to Tortall have had to land, have they? And people only started getting ill once it had sailed."
Numair smiled crookedly, "Don't you think the first thing I did when this thing started was to check the ship, to see if it was cursed?"
Daine closed her mouth, feeling foolish for even suggesting the idea.
"Master Salmalin!" One of the Shang warriors ran up to the boat as it landed on the grey silt beach. "They want to talk to you?"
Numair shook water from one of his shoes and glanced tiredly at the messenger. "To me? Why in Mithros' name would they want to..."
"The sailors, they said you were in charge." The warrior looked down at his own soaking feet. "The Shang Masters agreed with them. No-one wants to take responsibility for this." His voice tailed away, his face reddening abruptly.
"I see." The mage said coldly. He glared at the Shang warriors who shrank back, as if they were expecting him to throw lightning at them. Ged ignored the entire confrontation, deep in conversation with some of the senior Shang warriors. The local people had formed a ring around the bay of the beach, preventing anyone from escaping without a fight. Obviously, some of the Yamani warriors were considering this an attractive option.
Numair sighed. "I'm going to get warm by the fire. If they want to talk to me they can, but it's going to be somewhere warm."
The Shang warrior nodded and ran back to the group of locals, pointing at the fire as his grasp of Common wore out. The mage strode angrily to the fire, sailors scattering before him.
"I'm not that angry," He murmured to Daine as they held his hands out in front of the flames. "But we can't afford to let anyone think we're weak- even the Shang Warriors on our own side. They're looking for someone to blame, now."
The chief of the locals walked up to the fire and made a sarcastic show of warming his hands. He was decidedly plumper than his fellows, his skin a greasily yellow colour as if he had been eating a lot of the entirely wrong kind of food. He was assuming a dignified air that was completely out of place on a short, chubby man dressed in a thin silk tunic on a cold winter beach. Daine fought off an urge to smile, and hid behind her slave-mask instead.
"You are Master Salmalin?" He said haughtily. Numair inclined his head gracefully. The man scowled and pointed a gnarled finger straight into Numair's face. "And you are a mage?" He demanded.
"Yes," Numair replied, surprised. The man nodded briskly and clapped his hands, making shooing gestures towards some of the other locals. The immediately began to clear the beach, leading the sailors and warriors from the bay along a well-beaten track. As soon as the warriors were out of sight, other villagers melted out of the trees- these ones seemed more confident and stronger, some glinting dully with armour. As one, they produced crossbows and levelled them towards the mages.
"Your people will be made comfortable at our town, and given supplies to continue their journey." The man said pompously, ignoring their puzzled expressions.
"You can't do that! There's plague- your town will catch the sickness!" Daine cried. The man turned slightly and regarded her, trying to look down his nose and to raise his head regally at the same time. The effect was slightly lopsided.
"And who are you?" The man said, ice on every syllable.
Daine bowed automatically at the tone of voice. "Veralidaine Sarrasri, nobility." She said, and then wished she hadn't. The Gallan naming customs were obviously known in Scanra. Pink blotches appeared on the man's pasty face.
"And who are you, please?" She quickly asked. The pink blotches darkened.
"I am Sir Laurent, Miss Sarrasri." He said sarcastically. "I am the headsman of Detmarn, where there is already plague. We're not stupid, Miss Sarrasri. In fact, the plague seems to be everywhere."
"Dear Mithros," Numair cursed, the blood draining from his face. "I don't suppose you know what's causing it?"
The man regarded him for a moment, his proud demeanour suddenly deadly grim. "Yes. The plague is caused by magic." He said. Numair sighed and made a theatrical gesture with his hands.
"I know that. What I meant, was..."
"The plague was caused by magic. By mages. It has killed many people." The headsman interrupted coldly. "This is why you are to remain here. Until you can prove your innocence of this crime, you will be prisoners of the region of Detmarn."
"What?!" Both mages cried, naked disbelief on both their faces. Sir Laurent remained unmoved, his eyes sliding slowly from one to the other.
"That's ridiculous!" Daine exclaimed angrily, "You must have hundreds of mages here- any one of them could have cast it- and we've been trying to help!"
"We do not need your help, Miss Sarrasri." The man made a dismissive gesture. "Either be silent or be gone, but do not sully the ears of noblemen with your bastard words."
He shifted his glare back to Numair, who met the gaze furiously. "We have a very strict attitude towards mages in this country, Master Salmalin, as you will find out. We understand how dangerous your kind can be. You cannot be allowed to simply mingle with innocent citizens. Our own mages are trained when they are young- we know each of their gifts- and none of them began this plague. It must have been someone else." He narrowed his eyes at Numair suspiciously.
"You're insane," the mage breathed, "Dear gods, don't you understand what you're saying? You're suggesting that people with the Gift are inherently evil!"
The man's expression did not change. "We have proof and precedents. For example, the immortals were brought into this realm- unleashed on innocent people- by mages."
"Carthaki mages," Numair countered immediately.
"Perhaps so, but since the Carthaki empire was thrown into a state of revolt by Tortallan mages, during a peace negotiation no less, don't you think they were justified? Or perhaps we could talk about the Mage King Jonathan, draining the richness from our soil with the Dominion Jewel to make his own realm fertile? Or even the woman who calls herself a knight, because her filthy magic murdered everyone who realised the truth?"
He ignored the incredulous look both the mages gave him and carried on. "Very recently, a Tortallan mage crossed our borders without permission. For our own protection we had her followed. Both disappeared. We discovered the murdered corpse of the soldier, but the mage seems to have vanished into thin air." He gestured vaguely in the direction of one of the nearer mountains that curved into the sky. A dark blot halfway up it appeared to be a town. It flicked strangely, a thick coil of smoke rising above it. "We have investigated, but she wasn't there. We can only assume she used magic to hide herself."
"As soon as the mage entered our country, the plague began. We have been told that the Yamani plague didn't start until you boarded the ship."
"You have a lot of faith in coincidences." Numair said coldly, "And a good ear for petty superstition."
Sir Laurent's glare would have frozen lava. "You were seen casting magic on all of the sick..."
"I was trying to help them!" Numair yelled angrily. The headman's calm expression did not alter the slightest bit- he merely looked bored with this emotion.
"You're a healer, then?"
Numair hesitated, "No, but..."
"And you and your..." he looked at Daine as if she were mud under his shoes. "...friend... were not affected at all by the plague?"
"No, but that doesn't mean..."
The man held up a hand, obviously expecting the weak gesture to look impressive. A troop of the soldiers marched neatly up to the fire and saluted to Sir Laurent, who inclined his head in what he probably thought was a regal manner. Outside the circle of firelight, each of the soldiers took the safety catch from their crossbows and checked that swords were clear in scabbards. The message was clear before the pompous fool began to speak again: make one wrong move and die.
"Master Salmalin of Tortall, I place you under arrest in the name of the King of Scanra on suspicion of murder. If found guilty you will be executed before the people you have wronged: compensation for the lives that have been destroyed. Do not attempt to resist arrest..."
As the man droned on an official sounding list of laws, Numair touched Daine's shoulder. "Daine, you need to get away from here," he said quietly. She shook her head furiously.
"I'm not leaving you!" She whispered fiercely, grabbing hold of his hand and holding it tightly. He smiled and stroked her cheek tenderly.
"You have to, sweet."
"Stop trying to protect me!" Her words were angry, but her eyes filled with tears. She didn't understand how he could be so calm when they were saying such terrible lies about him. He glanced at the headsman (who still droned on officially) and shook his head.
"What do you think you could do to change their minds? They won't listen to either of us." He smiled wryly, "But at least, at the moment, they're only interested in arresting me. You could get away."
"I'm coming with you." She said stubbornly. He scowled.
"Daine, listen to me. You won't be safe if you stay here... I can look after myself, I promise, but not if I'm worried about you. If you leave, you can live off the forest. You could hide with the People. You'll be safe. And you could try and find this mage they say killed that soldier. The one they say started it. Even if it's just a random lunatic, at least you would have some evidence that we don't mean them any harm."
Daine bit her lip. "I guess that makes sense. How do I get away?"
"I don't know." For a moment his calm mask slipped, a glimpse of sorrow shining from his eyes. He's not angry. Daine realised dazedly, They're accusing him of murder, and he just feels sorry for them.
Numair glanced again at the guards, noting them shuffling impatiently as the headsman continued to drone on. Not much time left before they decided to interrupt, he guessed. He embraced Daine closely, whispering urgently in her ear.
"I'll make you invisible- it won't last for long, but it'll be long enough for you to get away. Don't talk to anyone- these people will be looking for you. Look for tracks; check the main routes from the border first. Listen to the animals."
She nodded against his cheek. "Please stay safe," she whispered desperately. He didn't answer, but smiled at her as lovingly as if they were safe back in Ilane's house in the Yamani Islands, as if nothing was important at all except letting her know how much he loved her.
As if he didn't want the last time she saw him to be full of pain and tears.
He kissed her forehead, and the cold of the spell filled her almost instantly. The circle of soldiers yelled out in fright and shock, recoiling from the magic as the foreign girl disappeared before their eyes.
Before the confused guards thought to close their circle more tightly, she ran through a gap between them. One of the guards yelled as she brushed against him on the way past, grabbing at the empty air in a desperate attempt to grab her. She ran as quickly as she could to the trees, picking the clearest route so the trees wouldn't tremble as she ran past. The shouts faded behind her until all she could hear was the soft sobbing of the wind. She could hear Sir Laurent's voice rise nasally through the hubbub as he shrieked at Numair.
She ran until the spell wore off, then hid under the crooked trunk of a fallen fir tree, planning to stay there until they stopped searching for her. It would be unlucky if she'd travelled along the same route they were going to take back to the town. And she couldn't hide silently in the forest if she was out of breath. She forced her breathing to quieten down and lay as silently as she could, ignoring the icy water dripping down through her cloth Yamani shoes.
She dreaded to think what they'd done to Numair for casting the invisibility spell. Several times she had to stop herself from getting up and running back to the beach, to give herself up so she could stay with him, so maybe he wouldn't be punished for more 'evil' magic. She shook her head softly, no. He knew what he was doing. Don't be a fool.
Her feet had gone numb. She'd have to start moving again, or freeze. Cautiously, she stood up and looked around. She had run in the direction of the village the headman had pointed to, but now she was lost, and alone...
Stop it, she thought. It's just a forest. You've gone soft. You were too trusting- anyone could see that we shouldn't have headed for that beach!And you should have spotted those soldiers in the forest. You can't just stand here and feel sorry for yourself when you have a job to do. Find the murderer. Free Numair. Anyone else would find it easy.
She forced the sorrow and rage into pure determination, finding the cold, cruel part of herself that Ozorne had created in Carthak. She spoke to herself, yelled at herself for letting everything go so wrong again. It almost seemed like it was Katryn's voice whispering the words inside her mind, so comforting and so cruel.
Never mind that you're alone again. You're used to it, assassin girl. You can't go crying to mother every time something goes wrong. Find the murderer. Kill the murderer. Punish the murderer for what they're doing to Numair. It'll be easy. It'll be fun.
Expressionless, numb, her grey eyes glinting like sharpened steel, she headed for the burning village.