A/N: Special thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter – I love you all! By the way – you may be pleased to know that you are reading the longest Garth Nix fanfic on this website! Or you may be thinking, "What the heck am I doing with my time?" In any case, it's an interesting statistic. And now we get to talk to Gamori! That should be a happy meeting, shouldn't it? No?
The Ancient Ways
Dantalion blinked as he entered the gloom of the dungeons, surprised at the number of prisoners he saw. He could never remember the cells being this full before. Penemue moved to embrace him, and he kissed her forehead. "The children?"
"They're fine," his wife assured him. She was damp from the waist down, having wasted no time in coming here from the reservoir. "I was worried sick about you."
"What? Lady Clayr did not See that I would return to her safe and sound?" he teased.
Penemue crossed her arms, trying to look irritated, but she could not suppress a smile. "I do not See by choice," she reminded him. "Glimpses. Flashes. Not nearly enough to reassure me. And contrary to what you may think, my Prince, not all of my visions are about you."
"Pity," Dantalion remarked.
"Have we had enough of the sweet talk?" someone remarked. Dantalion turned in time to see Cassiel smack his strange dwarf servant upside the head. The dwarf actually bared his sharp little teeth at that, but if he meant to retaliate he was interrupted by a commotion: sounds of a tussle came to them from further down in the dungeons.
They rushed over to see one of the spies screaming at Alocas. "How could you?" he shouted as two guards struggled to subdue him, even though he was chained to the grimy walls. "All this time, you knew that the attack was a set-up. You knew! And now Nammah is dead because of it!" Obviously an emotional wreck, Alocas seemed unable to think of anything to say to his friend.
Shackled beside the struggling spy, a very young Freeman raised his head wearily. Dantalion saw that his scalp was bleeding. "Do not be foolish, Danel," the young spy murmured. "Alocas would never betray us… would never…" From the muzzy way he was speaking, the Prince knew that he had suffered a severe blow to the head.
For his part, Alocas looked back and forth between the two chained spies, and finally settled on Danel as the one to address. "I told you to run," he choked out. "Why did you not run?" His friend's answer was to spit at him, and Alocas turned and fled from the dungeons. Dantalion listened to him stumbling up the winding staircase, and nodded at two guards to follow the spy.
In the shocked silence that followed, Penemue finally spoke up. "If his cousin here dies," she whispered, nodding at the younger spy, "Alocas will not survive the night."
Cassiel frowned in consternation. "He will take his own life?"
"Yes," said the Clayr. "Would you not do the same?"
Dantalion was feeling very uncomfortable. "He would be a casualty of war, then," he said, striving to keep his expression stern. Before anyone could say anything else, they were interrupted by a Charter Mage, whose knees knocked as he informed them that the necromancer Gamori was waking up.
They gathered in a separate torture room, the same one where Dantalion had overseen the interrogation of Alocas twelve years ago. The necromancer was strapped down to a table with bands of bronze which crawled with Charter marks. Dantalion was astonished by her beauty, and she could have been any age at all. She wore fine blue silk and a snakeskin swordbelt, and her weapons and jewels littered a side table. Felio and Nehima stood by her head, having placed the spells which were restraining her.
As they gathered by the side of the table Dantalion glanced at the master torturer, silently wishing that the Charter Mages would hurry up and devise a working truth-spell.
Gamori's eyes slid open, and they travelled languidly over Felio, Nehima, Dantalion, and Penemue before resting on Cassiel. "Greetings, little lord," she said. Her voice sent unpleasant shivers up the Prince's spine. "You look so much like your father."
The young Lord's eyes hardened, but he said nothing. Beside him, Mogget was staring at the necromancer in rapt fascination.
"I was so sorry to hear of his death," the necromancer said drowsily. "I knew him long ago, before he ever agreed to work for that fool of a King." At the slight to his father, Dantalion started forward, but Penemue placed a hand on his arm and shot him a look of warning. "Such a pity that he was killed by the necromancer Raum," Gamori continued. "I had meant to do it myself. But Raum was always impetuous, and killing Gabriel without my permission was not the first time he disobeyed me."
She sighed, and Dantalion suddenly noticed that she was wounded. Her side was bandaged and stained heavily with blood. It was mortal. Gamori seemed to be aware of the little time she had left, and as she seemed to be in a talkative mood, he silently dismissed the master torturer from the room.
"Carabia was better at following directions," said the necromancer. "Tell me, what happened to her?"
"Your witch?" said Dantalion. "I killed her."
Those cold eyes turned to rest on him, and Gamori smiled. "Good for you, Prince," she smirked. "Did you ever wonder why you have so few siblings left? My friend Carabia had a hand in that. Oh yes," she said at his expression of surprise. "She tricked your sister into wandering into the reservoir as a young girl, where the little thing drowned. Tragic, that. And when she and I started to work together, she made your other sister's horse mad so that she was thrown. Carabia had a knack for making murders look like accidents. Your poor father never suspected."
The Prince was floored by this revelation. He could feel that old, old anger building up inside him, but with an effort he tamped it down and took a shaky breath. "Well, in that case I am glad I killed her."
"Your older brother's death, however, was not her doing," Gamori continued as if she had not heard him. "He was killed by a necromancer in the north, was he not?" Her smirk widened into a malicious grin. "Crown Prince Forcalor was so brave for a boy of sixteen."
Penemue's fingers were now digging into his arm, and Dantalion barely managed to restrain himself from attacking the necromancer. She was obviously dying, and they needed to find out all that they could – throttling her would do no good.
"Unfortunately," said Gamori, "Free Magic does not work so well in Ancelstierre, so we were not able to get to Princess Merabel." She turned her head slightly to look at Felio and Nehima. "Your Wall appears to be working after all, unfinished as it is," she sneered.
"Delighted to hear it," said Nehima, although she did not look delighted at all. In fact, she looked rather ill.
"It is a shame that you Wallmakers cannot keep all of your secrets," Gamori purred. Her eyes started to become distant, and Dantalion could almost feel her spirit slipping away. He knew that Cassiel certainly could. "Thanks to the Freemen, every witch, sorcerer, and necromancer out there knows that Charter blood can break the Great Stones, and that blood of a Charter Mage can break the Lesser Stones." Her breath hitched, and a look of pain flashed across her face. The crimson stain on her side was spreading. "There are others out there still devoted to the Ancient Ways," she sighed. "They would see the Charter destroyed… Some day they will…"
Her eyes fluttered closed, and her breathing grew laboured. Dantalion heard a soft chime that made him stifle a yawn, and turned to see that Cassiel had rung a small bell to ease Gamori's passing. She was gone.
"That was a kindness she did not deserve," said Felio.
Cassiel gave a small shrug. "It is better for all if she goes peacefully."
They were all silent for a long moment, gazing down at the still face of the woman who had caused them so much grief. In death her face had changed. Small lines of care were now discernable around the eyes and the corners of the mouth, attesting to her true age. Strands of white were visible in Gamori's golden hair, and the healthy flush of her skin had faded to a wan, tired grey. Dantalion realized that this was what she would have looked like, had she not been corrupted by Free Magic. She was no longer the feared necromancer Gamori, but merely an elderly woman.
True to form, it was Nehima who first spoke up. "She was right, you know," said the Master Wallmaker. "All of our enemies know how to defeat us. And with the Shining Ones leaving, the Charter is weak. I mean, they were the ones who protected the Charter. And now the Charter can be broken with your shed blood." Her gesture encompassed Penemue, Dantalion, and Cassiel.
"Nobody can kill the remaining Shining Ones, at Least," said Cassiel in an endeavour to lift the gloomy mood.
"But Yrael was bound," Felio pointed out, looking troubled.
From the corner of the room, Mogget scowled. "Thank you so very much for reminding me." They all ignored him.
"He was originally bound by the Seven," replied Dantalion, "not by any mortal hand. It would take great power indeed to bind a Shining One, let alone destroy one." He was feeling very tired, and resisted the urge to rub at his eyes.
"When the Seven were here the Charter was virtually indestructible," Penemue agreed. "But the Shining Ones will soon be gone, and it will be down to us, and our descendents." Dantalion reached out to take her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.
Nehima impatiently flung her braid over her shoulder, narrowly missing Felio's head. "So what do we do now?"
It was Cassiel who answered: "We guard the Stones, and guard ourselves. We trust in the Charter to preserve us all."
Prince Dantalion glanced around at the others, and they all wore the same determined look.
"Well, that's settled," said Nehima brightly, clapping her hands to break the mood. "We have a lot of work to do. Should we go and see to the wounded, then?" Nehima, Felio, Cassiel, and a bad-tempered Mogget filed out of the room, but Penemue stopped Dantalion. They were alone with the corpse of a necromancer, but the Prince did not really notice. His attention was entirely focussed upon the fact that his wife was weeping.
"What is it?" he asked helplessly.
Penemue sniffed and scrubbed at her eyes. "I understand now," she sobbed. "I understand my old vision." She gulped and made a visible effort to steady herself, and Dantalion caught her hands in his. "The man in blue and the man in red…"
The Prince nodded encouragingly. "The man in blue was Cassiel, and he was burning his father's body."
"Yes," said the Clayr. "But the man in red… it was you, Dan."
He stared at his wife, and forced himself to ask the obvious question. "And who was I burning?"
Penemue lowered her eyes, and whispered, "Farelle." Faced with Dantalion's shocked silence, the woman hurried to explain. "What I was Seeing was the first Charter Bloodline fatality. Because we trusted Alocas, Lord Abhorsen was the first one of us to die. If we had not sent Alocas back to the Freemen, it would have been Farelle. The first assassination prevented due to Alocas' information was another one on Farelle."
The Prince shook his head, barely able to understand what his wife was saying to him. She tugged at his hands, and he looked into her eyes. Her expression was earnest. "The man who was supposed to have killed our daughter years ago saved her life."
Dantalion left the room with his thoughts whirling. He had spent years hating the spy, and now it turned out that he owed him his daughter's life. The concept was too astonishing to fully grasp.
"Sir!" A messenger bobbed her head respectfully. "The people of the city are at the gates. They demand that justice be done to the attackers."
"They shall not be disappointed," murmured Dantalion as he rubbed his chin. "Tell them that the prisoners are to be hung in the Main Square, starting tomorrow morning. Have the word spread about the city." The messenger bowed again and scurried off.
On his way out of the dungeons, the Prince stopped to look at the young spy with the head injury. If he recalled correctly, this was Vassago, the young cousin of Alocas. He called over one of the guards.
"Release this boy and take him to Alocas," he ordered quietly. "They are to be escorted back to their village as soon as he is fit to travel. Master Alocas needn't witness the executions. Warn them never to show their faces in Belisaere again." The guard saluted, and soon an unconscious Vassago had been borne from the dungeons.
A life for a life. Dantalion had repaid a debt unknowingly owed to Alocas, and they were even now. He knew that they would never cross paths again, and he was glad of it.
A/N: See? Dantalion can be merciful – only when his wife guilts him into it, though. I find it kind of ironic that trusting Farelle's potential assassin actually saved her life. I also find it ironic that Cassiel's vote concerning Alocas was the deciding one (see chapter 20, when they all vote to see if Alocas should turn spy for them), and as a consequence he had to burn his father's body. God, I love irony. Or that could just be my strange sense of humour.
As you may have noticed, the power has now been passed on to the second generation. Just to keep you guys up to speed on things, over twenty years have passed since the first chapter. Time really flies, doesn't it? And speaking of time flying, this is the end of this little plotline. For the next chapter, we'll be jumping forward two years. See you then!