Mage Slave

Page 43

 
Aven felt Mara rouse him from a light doze with a question placed gently in his mind like a smooth pebble onto a satin pillow.
What was Estun like?
Groggy, it took him a moment to formulate an answer, and it wasn’t so much words as memories and images at first. He thought of the library at night, the huge fire raging in the massive hearth casting ominous shadows across the leather spines. He thought of his father presiding at the head of the banquet for the harvest feast last year—so strong and handsome and proud. The stone halls of Estun had been filled with laughter and the smell of beer and wine and roasts cooking. He thought of the darkness of his room, the darkness of the kitchens, the dark, heavy stone pressing in around him. He thought of the way his magic would whip little currents of air through the dank, black hallways, torture the blazes and the flames in the candle sticks, tease at women’s hair and men’s beards—searching, restless, looking for more. He thought of how small it all felt, and yet how vast and empty.
He thought of the glorious sun of the balcony, the many days he’d spent reading there or helping to tend the plants when he was younger. He thought of picking cherries and eating them right off the tree in the summer with his mother. He thought of the first time he’d seen Mara there and the striking beauty of her face that day.
He stopped abruptly, scared. How much had he revealed?
His eyes snapped open, and hers did a second later.
You think my face is beautiful?
Her voice was not in its usual slow pace, with carefully timed words. It was just—plain, surprised. He swallowed hard, horrified at his own impoliteness and indiscretion. Well, certainly, you must know how beautiful you are, he tried to tell her. Why else do you disguise yourself? He closed his eyes, embarrassed, unable to stand simply staring any longer.
Only so I am not recognized later. I… No, I have never… No one’s told me that before. Perhaps in Estun there are not many women to compare me to.
Her voice had the same jingling, shaking laughter to it that told him she was teasing. But he couldn’t help but respond seriously. Well, I haven’t traveled the world like you, but I don’t think the number of faces I’ve seen has anything to do with judging a good one from the rest. I don’t need to have seen all the gems in the world to know the ones in my father’s staff sparkle with a certain zest. Just because no one’s told you that doesn’t make it untrue.
She said nothing back to him for a long while. Then, eventually, she could only say, I haven’t traveled the world, either. The darkness was killing you, wasn’t it? I know you said as much, but I didn’t imagine it could feel like that.
He might be a Lanuken, but he didn’t think he was much of a mountain king. He didn’t know how to respond.
I’m sorry I keep disturbing you. It’s just that this rocking and waiting is maddening. I can’t sleep, and I don’t want to think about… what’s to come.
He sensed her dread, deeper and more real now than before, even though he still didn’t understand it. It sent a chill down his spine. What are you afraid of?
She either didn’t hear him or refused to answer. Let’s try to rest more. The sun seems to have passed overhead now and be lowering again. They have to stop eventually.
He hoped so. His stomach gurgled angrily, and damn did he have to pee.
 
By the time they finally stopped, the sun had begun to set. The inside of the wagon had grown dark, and only dim shafts of light drifted in from outside. When the damn thing finally rolled to a slow stop, Aven thought his arm and leg might never wake up from the sleep they’d sunk into.
He listened intently in the growing silence, hoping for a clue of some kind, but he heard nothing but the sounds of men making camp. They barely spoke. Someone was making a fire.
Gods, do they plan to leave us in here all night? Bastards! Miara must be as uncomfortable as he was.
How long do we wait before we do something? he tried to ask.
She paused to consider. At least till the sun is fully set. If they’ve still left us lying here, we can try to make a break for it. Feel like mouse or rat tonight?
Not again! He groaned inwardly. Well, as long as I’m not being dangled thousands of feet above a mountain, I guess either will do.
No promises. We might get away faster as birds. Think you can fly? Or perhaps—
But before he could exclaim how unlikely that was, a figure cast a shadow over them, blocking what little light fell into the wagon. It reached in for them, starting with Mara first and yanking her to her feet. He was surprised at the sudden surge of rage that shot through him at their hands on her.
He was next. They dragged and bounced him harshly off the bottom ledge of the wagon as they hauled him unceremoniously out and gave him a push. His numb leg nearly gave out; Mara had fallen to her knees and was struggling to stand up. If he’d thought riding a horse all day made him tired and achy, it was nothing compared to this form of transportation.
Someone behind him was roughly removing the gag while another untied his hands. He tried to swing his head around to see better but regretted the pain immediately. At least five dark hoods circled them. Large faceted stones hung on chains around their necks. His hands were retied in front of him. Then they grabbed him by one arm—the numb one, of course—and led him toward a tent.
He couldn’t see Mara. He didn’t hear her following behind him.
He turned to one side to try to see her, but they pushed him harder toward the fire. He jerked his whole body and twisted then instead, turning at least part way toward where she’d fallen. To his relief, she was on her feet and being led behind him.
“Eh, she’s right behind you, mage—now quit your trouble and get on with it before I break your arm,” the one who’d lost control of him grunted.
Devoted Knights, she whispered. They hunt mages.
God, how many Devoted Knights were there in Akaria? Not this again.
The stones around their necks resist magic. Spells will be much more costly in their presence, if not impossible. Wait—again?
But before he could even try to figure out how to answer, they had arrived at the large tent. The door swung open, and they were pushed inside, the knights entering behind them.
It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness and the few candles. He blinked. The tent was sparsely furnished with a cot to one side, several chests that acted as both tables and seats, a regal chair facing the entryway, and a brazier of warm coals in the center for heat.