Renegade's Magic ss-3 Page 31

  There was a long moment of silence. I felt Soldier’s Boy draw his courage together. Then his cold words stunned me. “Kinrove, I think that Dasie is right. Indeed, you have worked a great magic, and it has held them at bay for years. All of the People should feel gratitude to you for that. But the wall has begun to crumble. And I will tell you a fearsome thing, Kinrove. The intruders do not understand that we are at war with them. They do not even recognize the magic of the Dust Dance, let alone the power of the magic that sends fear and sadness down upon them. I have walked among them as one of them. Do you want to know what they believe? They think we are simple, primitive people, living like beasts in the forest. They pity us and they despise us. They think they will help us to become like them, and that we will be grateful for that. They believe we long to be just like them, and they are very willing to help us forget how to be the People and become just like them.

  “They believe that eventually they will cut our trees and build their road and that we will forget what it is to be the People. They say that they will trade with us, and come to this land to trade with the folk from across the salt water. Our Trading Place would become theirs. A city of intruders would rise here. They would come here, with their iron and tobacco, and in a generation or two, we would no longer be the People. You have slowed their advance, Kinrove, but you have not stopped them. The dance has done all it can. Now it is time to fight them in a way they understand.”

  The Great Man looked incredulous. His clenched hands rose over his head. They fell as he thundered at us, “You have no memories! You do not recall the last time we stood to fight them, how many of our people died in that single day! If we do as she suggests, it will not take long for all the People to be dead, and no one will be left to guard our trees or mourn when they fall! That is not the answer I expected from you, Soldier’s Boy—Nevare! Do you seek still to shirk your task? Do you think I have not taken the herbs that bring the magic’s true dreams to me? I know who you are! I know what you are! Why do you not do your duty and obey the magic? You are the one who was supposed to drive the intruders from our lands forever. All the Great Ones know this! Jodoli knows this, and I know he has spoken to you about it. I even know that you have told him that you do not know what the magic wants you to do! If we pressed Dasie, perhaps even she would admit that the magic has whispered to her that one is coming who will drive the intruders from our lands.”

  He turned his head so abruptly that the blame he had been heaping on me appeared to belong to Dasie. If he had thought to see her quail, he was doomed to disappointment. She struck her breast with her open hand.

  “Me, Great Kinrove. Not him. I am what the magic wants, and my way will clear the land of the intruders and restore the dancers to their families. I know this is so. He is not your answer; he is just in the way, confusing us. But as you seem charmed by him, pay attention to what he says. He says I am right. So will you listen to me? Will you help me to make the plans that will free us of the intruders forever?”

  Kinrove flicked his hand at her, dismissing her. “I have listened to you tonight. All I have heard, Dasie, is the utterance of an unproven youngster seeking to make herself important. You wanted so desperately to speak to me, and finally I gave way and let you in. But you have not listened yourself, to anything that has been said. You just want to make this gathering listen to your ideas. We have listened. Now you should leave.” His extended palm pushed toward the entry of his tent, as if he were literally pushing her out of the door. His tone was adamant and his words final.

  “I feared that you would say that,” she said, but her tone sounded as if she had not feared any such thing, but had hoped for it. “I do not willingly do this, Kinrove. I know it will sow discord among us. But you have to be shown that your ways no longer work. You have to be shown that I know how to remove the intruders from our land. And it begins by showing you what they would do if ever they reached this far. It starts now!”

  I do not know how the signal was passed. Perhaps it was a magic that I did not know, a near instantaneous dream-walk into someone else’s mind. Perhaps she had simply timed her speech and brought events to this pass just as she wished them to happen. In any case, I felt it and I saw Kinrove’s eyes widen as the shock of it passed through him. The magical barriers that had guarded his encampment fell away in tatters. I felt them tear and give way, cloven by iron blades.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  TREACHERY

  Soldier’s Boy could read the magic as clearly as if he were witnessing the events with my eyes. Blades, iron blades, had cut and torn the magical barrier around Kinrove’s encampment. Like knives through silk, they had shorn his protection away. Iron was moving toward the pavilion at a deadly pace. Soldier’s Boy already felt it burning against him. Kinrove looked about in consternation. “We are under attack!” he announced to his people. “Arm yourselves!”

  But he was already too late.

  Through that barrier had swarmed Dasie’s followers. They came at a run. She could not quick-walk them all; she was not that strong. And those that were bearing iron, her magic could not move at all. But she did not need many of them. Half a dozen armed warriors suddenly strode into the pavilion. They moved like hunting cats through the chaos. Their copper-bladed weapons caught the light and flashed as each took up his position.

  Her strategy was well planned, and her warriors knew their roles perfectly. They rushed in, and in an instant, each Great One was being menaced with a blade. Feeders and servers shouted and shrieked in horror. Folk attempted to flee in all directions. Tables were overturned, dishes and food went flying, and Kinrove’s own guards were hampered by the panicked mob as they struggled to reach his side. “Take her prisoner!” Kinrove shouted at them, even as he struggled to master the man and the blade that threatened him. A young man with a gleaming copper blade sprang at Soldier’s Boy. Olikea and Likari pressed close to me, and in a matter of moments, Soldier’s Boy had summoned his magic to protect them.

  I saw the warrior menacing us react. He gripped his sword more tightly and leaned on it, as if hoping that the magic that held him back would give way for just an instant. Soldier’s Boy’s heart was pounding with effort. We both knew that if his shield of magic gave way, that sword would sink straight into his chest. Including Likari and Olikea in his sheltered space demanded a great deal of effort. I could feel the magic being consumed as his effort burned it away. He spared a quick glance for Kinrove.

  With a greater reservoir of magic at his command, Kinrove was almost in control of the situation. With a pointing finger and a clenched-fist gesture, he’d forced his attacker to his knees. The man, his eyes dazed, seemed intent on trying to plunge his blade into the wooden floor of the pavilion. Soldier’s Boy shifted his gaze sideways. Jodoli and Firada were safe but under siege as we were. For her part, Dasie was using her strength to keep Kinrove’s warriors at a distance from her. Sweat stood out on her face. Four men, each bearing a large flint blade, had surrounded her. They pressed toward her but could not reach her. Her feeders had drawn knives of their own. They were back-to-back, outside her circle of safety and unhampered by it. Kinrove’s guard had chosen not to close with them. I read in that their inexperience. For too long, they had counted on the Great One’s magic to protect them all.

  “Come take this man prisoner! Leave her for me to deal with!” Kinrove commanded them. His attacker had succeeded in wedging his blade into the floor. With an addled expression, he was trying to shove the blade still deeper. Kinrove’s guards looked relieved to be given a simpler target. They moved to close in around the man, and I dreaded that at any moment I’d see him slain. Kinrove turned his eyes toward Dasie. She met his gaze. Slowly he lifted both his hands, open palms toward her, and then began to bring them together as if he were squeezing something. I heard her make a strangled sound, as if she expended great effort. His moving hands slowed and then halted. Without touching, they struggled against one another.

  Despite the threat th
at menaced us, Soldier’s Boy’s eyes were drawn to watching her. Dasie trembled suddenly and I thought all her defenses would give way. Then she suddenly took a deep breath, threw back her head, and gave a wild cry as if she had thrown all her resources into one blow. Kinrove flinched, shook his head wildly, and then hung his head, panting. His hands fell to his side. One of Dasie’s feeders laughed aloud, a hoarse triumphant sound.

  Before Kinrove could recover, I heard a sound I’d never expected to hear in Speck territory. I knew well the clatter of hooves. I put the pieces together quickly. Dasie’s reinforcements had arrived. The force that she could not quick-walk down to Kinrove’s encampment had just charged into Kinrove’s encampment on horseback. And they bore iron, lots of iron. Soldier’s Boy could feel it.

  We heard wild cries of confusion outside, shouts of angry men and shrieks of terror. The flap of the pavilion was torn loose and six armed Specks raced in. Each bore one long sword and carried a second, shorter blade of iron. The motley collection of armor they wore would have been laughable, if not for the impact of the iron. The shock of the metal near stunned Soldier’s Boy. He felt as if the air in the place had been torn asunder by an explosion. A man with an iron sword swiftly replaced the fellow who had threatened us with a copper one, and handed his extra blade to the first man. He waved the weapon at us and I felt Soldier’s Boy’s magic shield literally fall to threads. In that instant, I expected to die, but the warrior merely rested the tip of the blade against my breast. That was enough. Just the presence of the metal made it hard for Soldier’s Boy to breathe.

  The presence of iron in the room disrupted all magic. The balance of power in the pavilion shifted until a blade was menacing every Great One in the pavilion except Dasie, while four were pointed at Kinrove. Dasie’s two feeders still flanked her, flourishing bronze blades. They quickly moved her and her chair as far as they could from the iron without taking her out of the pavilion. Her brow was furrowed and her breathing seemed labored, but undoubtedly she was in a better situation than the rest of the Great Ones.

  Kinrove was pale and his lips puffed in and out with every breath he took. Not one but the tips of four iron blades touched his flesh. It was quickly apparent to me that all of his feeders and other hangers-on were accustomed to relying on his magic for defense. They gawked, stupefied, as if expecting that at any moment Kinrove would seize control of the situation. But, confronted with the iron blades that could end all his magic as well as his life and physically unable to defend his own person, he could barely sit up and was gasping in shock at his own predicament. His eyes darted wildly, taking in the situation, but he gave no orders. Perhaps he had no breath to spare.

  Outside, the wild clatter of hooves continued as more and more horsemen arrived. More stunning than the sound of horses being drawn to a halt outside the pavilion was the event that followed it. The music, the ever-present din that had pressed against my ears and body since we arrived at the encampment, rattled to a halt and then ceased. There were shouts of confusion outside and cries of fear and anger. Suddenly the tent flap was torn away and one of Dasie’s lieutenants shouted to her, “We have halted the dance, Great One! We are already in the process of finding those stolen from our kin-clan. Are you in command inside the pavilion?”

  “I am!” Dasie called back to him. “Proceed as we planned. Fight only if anyone resists you. Even then, refrain from killing if it is possible. Enough of the People have already been killed for this dance. I do not wish the blood of my own people to be on my hands.”

  As the young man strode away, Dasie spoke to those of us still inside. Her voice shook at first, but as she went on, she seemed to gain strength. “As you have heard, I do not wish to harm anyone. All I want, at this moment, is to free those stolen from their lives to dance for Kinrove. If everyone does as we say, all will go well. None of the People will be injured. Resist, and Kinrove may die. I do not want to be pushed to that extreme! So, all of you, please move over and stand near the tables of food. Go now. Go. Yes, I mean all of you, feeders included. Your Great Ones will have to manage for themselves for a short time.”

  I watched her through Soldier’s Boy’s eyes. I could see that the iron bothered her; it bothered Soldier’s Boy even more, for the heavy blade hovered not a handspan from his heart and the man who held it was flinty-eyed and smiling. Yet, “Go. Obey her,” he told Olikea, and when Likari clung to him, whimpering, he shook the boy free and said harshly, “Take him with you.” Olikea seized her son by the shoulder and steered him away. The boy looked back over his shoulder, agony in his eyes. Soldier’s Boy couldn’t as much as nod to the boy. The presence of the iron was a crawling sensation, as if stinging ants swarmed over his entire body.

  I assessed our chances. “If he lunges at you, move to the right, drop to the ground, and roll. It may buy you a few moments. He doesn’t hold that weapon as if he knows how to use it.”

  I offered him the thoughts and felt his irritated response: “I see no advantage to being stabbed while rolling about on the ground as opposed to sitting in a chair. Be quiet. Don’t distract me now.” He was focusing every bit of his self-discipline to remain still and not react to the stinging of the iron. He had begun to sweat. He’d used magic to defend himself and already his body was clamoring for food to replenish it. He pushed his hunger aside.

  I took his advice, mostly because I had no other ideas to offer. Dasie had risen from her throne. She stalked the room, her feeders to either side of her. She took short, savage puffs from a pipe, and puffed the smoke from her lips in explosive little bursts. I think she listened, as I did, to the confusion of sounds from outside. There were shouts of joy and also wild weeping and a clamor of questions as her men sorted through the dancers looking for their stolen loved ones. She walked over to me and stood behind the shoulder of the man who held the sword. Her eyes were not kind. Earlier she had urged Kinrove to kill me. I had no reason to think she had changed her mind. She had said she did not wish to shed blood. I wondered if her forbearance would extend to not shedding my blood.

  Kinrove suddenly spoke. His hands were still and his words seemed to lack power. “You. You are not of Dasie’s kin-clan. You are Clam Grounds clan. Why are you here, obeying her orders?”

  He asked his question of the young man who menaced him with a sword. I could not see the warrior’s face but his voice was steady and calm as he replied, “I am here to fetch my sisters home to our kin-clan. I would follow any Great One who offered me the opportunity to do that.”

  Dasie abruptly turned aside from me and strode up to Kinrove, stopping well away from the iron. “I have tried to tell you and you would not listen. Do you think it is only my kin-clan who are heartsick for their stolen ones? No. Our weariness of your futile magic extends through many kin-clans. When we leave, our relatives go with us. I do not think you will have enough dancers left to protect your pavilion, let alone work your great magic. If you are wise, after we depart, you will let the others go back to their homes. Perhaps with that act you can buy yourself some goodwill from those your magic has so long betrayed. Perhaps once you have freed those you enslaved, you will no longer need to use the magic of the People to shield yourself from the People’s anger.”

  “I, a betrayer? What of yourself, Dasie? Do not you and your magic belong to your kin-clan? Yet here you are, with a mongrel horde of followers, rising up against the People. By what authority do you do this? Your kin-clan gave birth to you. They have poured their resources into making you great. You should care first for their interests rather than making this grand grab for power you are not capable of wielding.”

  She laughed. “You think that is what this is about, Kinrove? You think that I seek to tear you from your dais and take your place? I care nothing for the power you wield. I do not want to be what you are. My care is for the People, and not just the folk of my own kin-clan, but all who have been forced into slavery by your dance.”

  “Again, you fool, it is not I who have called them to da
nce but the magic! Will you defy the magic?”

  “I will defy your magic! Each one of the folk that I rescue will be given a little necklace of iron chain to wear. You will not be able to summon them back! Show him, Tread.”

  At her command, one of the warriors menacing Kinrove lowered his sword. With his free hand, he pulled the collar of his leather shirt open to reveal the little iron chain he wore around his neck. “Your magic cannot command me, Kinrove,” he said quietly.

  Kinrove’s eyes seemed to bulge from their sockets and his face grew red. “You, a Great One of the People, will pollute us with iron? Do you know what you do, bringing that foul metal among us? Do you know how you will cripple your own magic as well as all magic to follow you?”

  Dasie lifted her arms and slid back the sleeves of her robe to expose her pale arms. The folds of flesh on her arms hung slack and empty. “I know what iron costs me! For the past month, I’ve lived with iron! I’ve known its burn every day. And I know what magic costs. I’ve consumed nearly all I had simply to come here and take back from you what belongs to every member of the People. If you manage to kill me before I depart here, it will still have been worth it, Kinrove. I would not mind dying if my kin-clan remember me as the Great One who chose to use her magic to free them from you! Even if I had to use iron to do it.”

  “You think you’ve freed our people?” Kinrove dragged himself upright, closer to the menacing blades. He drew in a deep breath with difficulty. I think only his anger gave him the strength to go on. Before my very eyes, he seemed to be diminishing. “You are selfish and stupid, then. You’ve killed our people. You disrupted the dance. Without the onslaught of the magic, the intruders will find their wills again. Do you think they will wait until spring to attack our trees, to come into our forest to try to find us and destroy us? No. By this time tomorrow, their iron will be biting into our trees. Our ancestors will be falling, and the invasion of our forest will have begun!”