Mage Slave
Page 77
Daes nodded, and the door shut again. He turned back to the Tall Master. “Well, at least he didn’t dally this time.”
“Yes. The one time it would have been useful. So, in the morning, we’ll do our best to praise the king’s brilliant political plan to murder him?”
“We’ll do our best.”
“See you in the morning, then.” And out the Tall Master went with a bit more bounce in his step. That man cared more for human suffering than Daes was sure he was comfortable with. Fine when it was turned on others, but… someday it could be turned on him. Fortunately, he always made sure to have one or two weapons in his bag of tricks against people like the Tall Master.
For a moment, Daes sat alone, doing nothing. He often found that if he listened quietly to himself in such moments, he realized what he truly needed or wanted. He could feel the path that would lead him to rule over these fools and keep them from losing everything they’d built out of reckless hubris.
But as he sat, he only felt afraid.
He knew too little. He had so many questions. What would the king do? What would he want? Would he figure out the prince was a mage? Would it matter? Should he kill the prince right away and prevent the potential embarrassment? How could the brand not be working? How was he doing it? Where had he learned this magic?
And then it hit him. He had questions. The prince was a dead man with the rising of the sun. His time to ask those questions was rapidly dwindling.
He jumped to his feet and headed for the dungeons.
The clanking of the iron bars sliding against each other shook Aven awake. No guards greeted him this time, though. It was their leader, the one who dressed in black.
He entered the cell and then stopped, studying Aven.
“If you’re trying to figure out if your enchantment worked or not, the fastest way would be to just unchain me and see for yourself.”
The man grinned as a guard brought him a stool, which Daes positioned in the corner of the cell. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. My name is Daes. I am one of the Masters of this hold.”
“You know who I am.” Aven shifted, but there was no such thing as a comfortable position in this setup.
“Indeed. It was I who sent the slave after you.”
“Her name is Miara.”
“Is it, now? Did you get to know her well on your travels?”
Aven said nothing.
“Quite well, it seemed to me. Well, she was ordered to use any means necessary. She is quite… skilled.”
The barb did sting a little. But he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t falling for that old ploy. He remained silent.
“She does have quite the air about her, doesn’t she? Not many in Kavanar would appreciate it. But I’m an old warrior myself. I must say I admire that certain wild strength. Doesn’t it make you wonder what she could do with it?” He eyed Aven intently as his smile slowly broadened, his eyes growing amused.
Aven again said nothing. Could this Daes tell that Aven was gritting his teeth? He hoped not.
“Do you know why I sent her after you?”
“Because you’ve got a death wish?”
Daes just continued to smile at him, unmoving, which was more than a little disturbing. “Which one of us is closer to death at this point, my friend?”
“You tell me.”
Daes grinned but said nothing.
Aven tried a different approach. “Because Kavanar is populated with scum who require spies to do their dirty work, cloak and dagger style?”
It worked. Daes bristled, shoulders stiffening even as he tried to hide his reaction by looking off at the central hearth. Ah, excellent—a sore spot.
“I would prefer a less covert strategy,” Daes said, turning his eyes back to Aven. “And there will indeed be time for that. But it will likely be after your death.”
Was Daes suggesting what he thought he was suggesting? Aven took a deep breath and waited. Perhaps he would reveal more if he remained quiet.
“There are things you practice in Akaria that threaten the safety of all I hold dear. Dangerous things. That is why I sent the slave after you.”
Daes seemed to think that this would make sense to Aven. What the hell could he be referring to—sword fighting? Battle? Akaria was not known for much else. He also seemed to think Aven would know why Daes was concerned about him in particular. What gave him that idea?
Unless… Unless he somehow knew.
“In fact, it’s why they are all slaves in the first place.” Daes stood from his stool and crouched down in front of him. “Let’s not waste any more of each other’s precious time, shall we?”
He waited. Gods, what did the man want?
After a long moment, Aven could only raise his eyebrows. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for.”
“Must we really play these games? I should have known. I detest the type of man who hides behind lies and manipulations.”
“I’m not playing any games,” Aven said flatly. At this, Daes cocked his head to one side, the slightest crease in his brow. Perhaps he was realizing that Aven might in fact have no idea why they had come after him. Daes had laid cards on the table without realizing it.
“The star magic. Tell me what you know.”
Aven wanted to groan. He knew. He knew! How the hell could this bastard, so far away from Akaria, know about star magic? It was all Aven could do to discover the tiniest shred of it! No one in Akaria knew, it seemed, except perhaps the Takarans. Of all people! And yet Daes knew? This was a royal mess indeed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hmph. You’re a bad liar.” Daes gave a nod to a guard who shuffled back toward the central hearth.
“Miara said the same thing,” Aven replied.
Daes pressed his lips together, frowning, and signaled a summons to the guard without turning away from Aven. “I’ve tried to treat you as a gentleman, from one noble to another. Tell me what I want to know. Did you think it was your little Akarian secret? I don’t believe you.” As he spoke, the guard shambled back with a hot iron poker in one hand.
Aven didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t understood the magic long enough to even wonder who else might know. But assuming it was his little secret was basically exactly what he’d done.
Aven eyed the poker—another enchantment or an ordinary torture device? He tried to sense any magic, groping at awkwardly, but he felt nothing.
“Yes. The one time it would have been useful. So, in the morning, we’ll do our best to praise the king’s brilliant political plan to murder him?”
“We’ll do our best.”
“See you in the morning, then.” And out the Tall Master went with a bit more bounce in his step. That man cared more for human suffering than Daes was sure he was comfortable with. Fine when it was turned on others, but… someday it could be turned on him. Fortunately, he always made sure to have one or two weapons in his bag of tricks against people like the Tall Master.
For a moment, Daes sat alone, doing nothing. He often found that if he listened quietly to himself in such moments, he realized what he truly needed or wanted. He could feel the path that would lead him to rule over these fools and keep them from losing everything they’d built out of reckless hubris.
But as he sat, he only felt afraid.
He knew too little. He had so many questions. What would the king do? What would he want? Would he figure out the prince was a mage? Would it matter? Should he kill the prince right away and prevent the potential embarrassment? How could the brand not be working? How was he doing it? Where had he learned this magic?
And then it hit him. He had questions. The prince was a dead man with the rising of the sun. His time to ask those questions was rapidly dwindling.
He jumped to his feet and headed for the dungeons.
The clanking of the iron bars sliding against each other shook Aven awake. No guards greeted him this time, though. It was their leader, the one who dressed in black.
He entered the cell and then stopped, studying Aven.
“If you’re trying to figure out if your enchantment worked or not, the fastest way would be to just unchain me and see for yourself.”
The man grinned as a guard brought him a stool, which Daes positioned in the corner of the cell. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced. My name is Daes. I am one of the Masters of this hold.”
“You know who I am.” Aven shifted, but there was no such thing as a comfortable position in this setup.
“Indeed. It was I who sent the slave after you.”
“Her name is Miara.”
“Is it, now? Did you get to know her well on your travels?”
Aven said nothing.
“Quite well, it seemed to me. Well, she was ordered to use any means necessary. She is quite… skilled.”
The barb did sting a little. But he wasn’t stupid. He wasn’t falling for that old ploy. He remained silent.
“She does have quite the air about her, doesn’t she? Not many in Kavanar would appreciate it. But I’m an old warrior myself. I must say I admire that certain wild strength. Doesn’t it make you wonder what she could do with it?” He eyed Aven intently as his smile slowly broadened, his eyes growing amused.
Aven again said nothing. Could this Daes tell that Aven was gritting his teeth? He hoped not.
“Do you know why I sent her after you?”
“Because you’ve got a death wish?”
Daes just continued to smile at him, unmoving, which was more than a little disturbing. “Which one of us is closer to death at this point, my friend?”
“You tell me.”
Daes grinned but said nothing.
Aven tried a different approach. “Because Kavanar is populated with scum who require spies to do their dirty work, cloak and dagger style?”
It worked. Daes bristled, shoulders stiffening even as he tried to hide his reaction by looking off at the central hearth. Ah, excellent—a sore spot.
“I would prefer a less covert strategy,” Daes said, turning his eyes back to Aven. “And there will indeed be time for that. But it will likely be after your death.”
Was Daes suggesting what he thought he was suggesting? Aven took a deep breath and waited. Perhaps he would reveal more if he remained quiet.
“There are things you practice in Akaria that threaten the safety of all I hold dear. Dangerous things. That is why I sent the slave after you.”
Daes seemed to think that this would make sense to Aven. What the hell could he be referring to—sword fighting? Battle? Akaria was not known for much else. He also seemed to think Aven would know why Daes was concerned about him in particular. What gave him that idea?
Unless… Unless he somehow knew.
“In fact, it’s why they are all slaves in the first place.” Daes stood from his stool and crouched down in front of him. “Let’s not waste any more of each other’s precious time, shall we?”
He waited. Gods, what did the man want?
After a long moment, Aven could only raise his eyebrows. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for.”
“Must we really play these games? I should have known. I detest the type of man who hides behind lies and manipulations.”
“I’m not playing any games,” Aven said flatly. At this, Daes cocked his head to one side, the slightest crease in his brow. Perhaps he was realizing that Aven might in fact have no idea why they had come after him. Daes had laid cards on the table without realizing it.
“The star magic. Tell me what you know.”
Aven wanted to groan. He knew. He knew! How the hell could this bastard, so far away from Akaria, know about star magic? It was all Aven could do to discover the tiniest shred of it! No one in Akaria knew, it seemed, except perhaps the Takarans. Of all people! And yet Daes knew? This was a royal mess indeed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Hmph. You’re a bad liar.” Daes gave a nod to a guard who shuffled back toward the central hearth.
“Miara said the same thing,” Aven replied.
Daes pressed his lips together, frowning, and signaled a summons to the guard without turning away from Aven. “I’ve tried to treat you as a gentleman, from one noble to another. Tell me what I want to know. Did you think it was your little Akarian secret? I don’t believe you.” As he spoke, the guard shambled back with a hot iron poker in one hand.
Aven didn’t know what to say to that. He hadn’t understood the magic long enough to even wonder who else might know. But assuming it was his little secret was basically exactly what he’d done.
Aven eyed the poker—another enchantment or an ordinary torture device? He tried to sense any magic, groping at awkwardly, but he felt nothing.
