'How deep is it? Can we dress it and go on?' Count Vesna sounded calmer, more assured. The distraction of battle had caused years of instinct to kick in. Isak was glad to hear the change in his voice, even though he was certain his most loyal of allies would never fail him.
'Sliced the skin, I think, no more. Just help me get this damn shoulder-plate off and the bloody thing out of me – anything more can wait; I'll not bleed to death from a scratch.'
Vesna did so, experienced hands sliding under the plate and bring¬ing it up off Isak's shoulder. The white-eye grimaced as the arrow jagged in the wound again, but Siulents had taken most of the force and the barb had hooked just inside the plate. Vesna quickly snapped the shaft and withdrew the crude iron head.
He checked the wound and, some of his old humour back, an¬nounced, 'It's bleeding happily enough, but you'll live.' Once Isak's armour was restored and the reflective helm was back in place, Vesna pointed towards the doorway. 'The others are waiting below there. Are you sure you know where we're going?'
Isak nodded and began walking briskly, calling Eolis to him as he did so. Turn is in there,' he said, pointing to a circular tower that rose from the end of a large hall on the eastern side of the palace. 'I can feel the magic'
'Can you be sure it's him? I thought the Circle still had a number of mages left.'
'It's him. I can feel powerful wards there, and I think the vampire is the only other person here with the strength for that. He's not tried to be subtle; they're a warning as much as anything.'
'But you can break them?'
'One way or another,' Isak said firmly, 'but it won't be neat, so let's get there quickly and quietly. I'm betting every servant left in the palace is holed up in a wine cellar somewhere, drowning their terror, so we move fast and we kill whoever is in our way, understand?'
There was the slightest of pauses from Vesna, and Isak felt the man's weariness like the glow of a flaring ember before the count agreed.
They walked through darkened corridors with weapons drawn. The palace had the air of the recently abandoned; tasks were left
unfinished, storerooms left open. There were no servants anywhere to be seen, no footsteps or voices echoing down the stone passageways, until they reached the inner parts of the palace, where the walls shook off their martial air and the red-painted plaster gave a more elegant look.
The first hall they came to housed a pair of soldiers, and Tiniq and Leshi ghosted forward to kill them both, with nothing more than a cut-off cough of surprise from one. The rangers dragged the bodies out of immediate sight, leaving nothing but a red smear on the flanks of the stag painted on the tiled floor.
Isak looked around to gain his bearings, looking like a hunting dog sniffing the air. 'He's that way, still in his tower.'
'Surely he can sense you?'
Isak shrugged. 'He probably felt something happen on the walls, but I suspect he feels secure behind those wards. No point looking for a fight. He'll be wanting to save his strength.'
'So what do you want us to do?'
'A diversion of some sort,' Isak said. 'Set fire to a flour store or something, I don't really care what. Just draw whatever guards he might have away so I can get a clear run at him.'
'You're going alone?'
'Not quite,'replied a deep, booming voice behind them. As one the Farlan turned, ready to attack, faltering when they recognised the two figures standing in the shadows of the corridor.
'Ehla?' Isak gasped, 'Fernal? When- How did you gel here?'
'With rather more subtlety than you,' the witch of Llehden replied sounding like an exasperated older sister. At her side, Fernal flexed his massive taloned hands, staring fixedly at the weapons still levelled towards him.
Isak gestured and the blades were put up. Fernal stilled.
'Calling up an Aspect of Death to help you get over a wall? That smacks of showmanship, if you ask me.'
'It was hardly intentional,' Isak said hotly, not in the mood to be chastised by anyone.
'You can manage something like that by accidentV She sounded horrified at the suggestion. 'I don't know which would be worse; that yow at turn could have such consequences, or that a man with your power would warn to show it off so badly.'
'My Lord?' Vesna interrupted uncertainly, shilling his armoured body from one foot to the other. Isak nodded; they were rather too exposed for his liking as well.
'Go. Lord Fernal, they could use your help.'
The Demi'God shook his mane of midnight-blue hair and gave a soft growl, until Ehla laid a thin hand upon his arm. Vesna hesitated, looking from his lord to the newcomers before realising it would be better for them to leave. He strode away, the others close on his heels.
Ehla spoke a few words of her own language, soft and soothing, and Fernal fired a brief volley of thick sounds back. Their voices were so different Isak couldn't even tell if they had spoken the same language, but Fernal gave a curt nod and stepped forward to look Isak directly in the eye.
'We have a form of kinship, you and I,' Fernal said hesitantly, taking care over the words that fitted uneasily around his thick fleshy tongue and great incisors. The words were clear and easily recognisable, but Isak could see Fernal was determined to get them absolutely correct. He felt a pang of sympathy for the strange beast-man; Fernal must know better than Isak how appearance could be a hindrance to every other aspect of life. The care he took said very obviously 1 am not the beast 1 appear, in a way Isak had rarely bothered with. 'I ask you to keep her safe, as I promised back in Llehden.'
'I will,' Isak acknowledged with a respectful nod, ignoring Fernal's unspoken words of warning. Two large men in a cramped room, he thought, neither of us wanting to jostle the elbow of the other.
Fernal loped off after the soldiers with long strides, his thick mane billowing as he caught them up.
Isak turned back to Ehla and immediately felt uncomfortable as he saw he was being scrutinised. There was something about her poise that set Isak on edge, making him horribly aware of every idle move¬ment and pointless gesture, especially when compared to her disturb¬ingly still presence. She was a handsome woman – he guessed her at close to forty summers – but her aura of utter self-assurance unsettled him. It was a mask even more effective than his own, and it ensured he remained a shade off-balance around her.
'Well, shall we go, or continue to watch each other like the last couple left at the village dance?'
Isak sighed. 'For a village crone you sound an awful lot like King Emin,' he commented sourly, pointing the way.
Ehla cocked her head at him. 'Even isolated as we are, we're still reminded of the man's greatness from time to time, so I shall take that as a compliment.'
'He has his faults,' Isak said darkly, and walked on ahead, hand on the hilt of his sword. Behind him, Ehla breathed a word he couldn't recognise, though it sounded like a curse. Perhaps the crone comment had got past the mask after all; he smiled and filed that thought away for later.
After two corridors and another empty hall they found a small storeroom that had obviously not been used recently. It was only six foot square, with a roughly hewn hexagonal pillar rising from near its centre and piercing the ceiling. It looked like an architectural after¬thought, but it was perfect for Isak's needs and he said an awkward prayer in his mind to whichever of the Gods were looking down upon him. They were legendarily fickle creatures, the Gods, and he knew he'd be in greatest need of their help once the deed was done.
They only had to wait five minutes. Whatever Count Vesna had set ablaze, it had gone up like a sacrifice to Tsatach and Isak could smell the bitter scent of smoke faintly even before a unit of soldiers clattered past in the direction of the fire.
'How did you get into the palace?' Isak whispered as they waited to see whether any more men were coming from that direction.
'A witch can always find a way in; few have the strength of mind to deny us.'