“We did. And sometimes they worked. And sometimes they were baffled by more powerful sorcery. We were not the only ones who used magic, Rik. Rest assured, wherever you go I can find you.”
He thought back to the lock of hair she had taken back in the tent. “You lied to me,” he said.
“No, Rik, I just did not tell you the entire truth. I will destroy the lock when it is no longer needed.” He felt angry and foolish, but realised that anger would do him no good in this place at this time. He needed to get himself under control if he was going to survive. “What can you do to help me on this mission?”
“I can provide you with maps of the Tower’s interior. I can even provide you with a guard’s uniform. I can provide you with some unusual weapons as well.”
That sounded more promising. “What can you give me? Magical weapons?”
“No. Those would be noticed by the guardians. Such weapons have auras just like any living things. They are imbued with magical energy. I can give you poisons…”
“What do you want me to do — poison the water supply?”
“No, I will give you magebane, which is extremely painful to anyone using magic, and I will give you drugs that will heighten your speed and strength.”
“I will need those.”
“There is one thing, Rik. If the opportunity should arise to acquire the glowing necklace that Ilmarec wears on his neck, take it. All the sorcerous defences of the Tower are tied to it. Given time, I could make good use of it.”
“I’m sure he will notice if I take his amulet.”
“Not if he is dead. That would solve a number of our problems.”
“You are saying that if the opportunity should arise, I am to kill Ilmarec.”
“You are a soldier. He is the enemy.”
“He is a Terrarch Lord. I am a human. Burning at the stake is the penalty for such a killing.”
“Not under the circumstances. This is war.”
“His retainers might, if they catch me.”
“Then best see that you are not caught.”
Rik glared at her. He could not help but feel that he was being bundled off on a suicide mission. If he succeeded Asea would grab most of the glory, for it would be her spells that protected him, or so she would claim, and he was in no position to contest that. If he failed, she would still be safe in this mansion, a rich wealthy Terrarch lady. As he had always been his whole life, he was trapped and in the power of the world’s rulers. He did not really have a say in what was going on. The best he could hope to do was sneak away, and even then he knew that, if ever they caught up with him, the penalties would be grave.
“You are looking very thoughtful,” she said.
“I am merely contemplating my chances of success,” he said. “They are not good are they?”
“No,” she agreed. “They are not.”
“Is there anything I can do to improve them?”
“You could try prayer.”
He looked at her, not sure if she was entirely serious.
“How are we to acquire a cart?” he said.
“There is a man who will help you. He is a power among the thieves in this city. I believe you have already made his acquaintance. His name is Black Tomar.”
Rik kept his face impassive. What was the connection between Asea and the local gang boss? “Why should he help us?”
“Because he will, believe me,” she said. Rik suppressed a shiver. He wondered how much contact Asea had with Tomar, whether he knew of what had happened- what had been said- with Tamara the other night.
Asea smiled almost as if she were reading his thoughts. “Give him this coin. He will know you are my messenger.”
She placed an ancient gold coin on the table. Rik picked it up and inspected it. It was a very old one, its face almost worn away; someone had indented a strange pattern on its edge, he could feel it with his finger. Rik slipped it into his pocket.
“Anything else?”
“You should be very careful, Rik, about who you talk to and what you say,” Asea said. There was a strange edge to her smile. How much did she know, he wondered?
Rik stamped the mud from his boots, wiped the rain from his forehead and followed Weasel and the Barbarian into the Snake’s Head. He cursed the weather, and he cursed the strange light from the Tower even though it lit the gloomy streets. There was something about that hellish glow that made the space between his shoulder blades crawl.
The tavern was full of worried-looking men and the kind of swift coming and going common in thieves’ haunts in times of unrest. There were a lot of opportunities out there right now. The knowledge made Rik’s fingers tingle and he felt almost tempted to go out and join in the looting.
Instead he worked his way up to the bar, behind Weasel and the Barbarian. A big, craggy-looking man greeted them with a raised finger to the barman. Three drinks were swiftly poured and placed in front of them. From this Rik deduced the man was Black Tomar, the owner, who Weasel had come to do business with the other night. He glanced around half-hoping to see Tamara, but there was absolutely no sign of her. He wondered if he would ever see her again. He pushed the thought aside; now was the time to be about Lady Asea’s business.
“Good evening,” Tomar said by way of greeting. His eyes flickered over Rik with more than casual interest. It was swiftly done but he was aware of the scrutiny nonetheless.
“Greetings, matey,” said Weasel in his most open, peasant manner, always a sign that he was most on guard.
“I am surprised to see you on a night like tonight,” said Tomar. “I thought you would be inside the House of Three Swans or maybe even still up at the Tower with Lord Ilmarec.”
“So you know about that then?” said Weasel.
“Hard not to notice when you see a company of foreign soldiers go up Snake Road.”
“I suppose so,” said Weasel. “You thought any about what we talked about last night?”
“Yes. You can tell the Quartermaster his reputation precedes him, and I’ll be happy to do business with him.”
“Glad to hear it,” said Weasel. Tomar gestured them over to a quiet alcove, a place where he could watch business go on around him but could not be overlooked or overheard.
“To tell the truth,” he said, which Rik always assumed was a sign that the speaker was going to do anything but. “I’m glad to help. I’ve never been keen on the Purples- what man could be? The Scarlets have always been better for our sort, even if not by much.”
Rik revised his opinion. That seemed an eminently sensible statement. Perhaps Asea was right about this man after all. He certainly hoped she was. Weasel nodded and said; “Aye, not by much, but by enough.”
“Your Lords are not the only ones Ilmarec has been talking with. That strutting ponce, Jaderac has been up in the Snake Tower, and so has his little girlfriend, the one who likes to hang out in bars and pick up soldiers.” He nodded at Rik at this point.
“Likes a bit of rough, does she?” asked the Barbarian with a leer. “I wondered where you had got to the other night.”
He gave Rik a look that was half appraising and half admiring. “Wish I knew what your secret was with the ladies, Halfbreed.”
“Charm,” said Rik. “Not something you would know anything about.”
“What’s this about the Easterners being up in the Tower,” Weasel asked.
“They come and go with a bit less pomp than your Lady Asea, but they’ve been up there a few times.”
“Sure?” asked Weasel.
“As this tavern is the Snake’s Head.” It did not surprise Rik. The Terrarchs were political animals. It seemed only normal that Ilmarec would play both ends against the middle.
“Any idea what they talk about?”
“None at all. It’s hard to get men inside the Snake Tower on a regular basis. They tend to disappear. Old Ilmarec is a sorcerer- who knows what he is capable of — and then there are those gargoyles on the walls. They put the fear of the Shadow into my mind I can tell you.”
“You mean those things above the gates?” Rik asked.
“Aye, lad. Never met a man yet they did not spook.” The looks on the faces of the Barbarian and Weasel told him they agreed. He wondered what he had missed and how he had missed it. Maybe Asea was right about his background, or maybe it was something else entirely. There was no way of telling.