Blood on Bronze (Blood on Bronze Book 1) Read online

  ~

  Another thing that Arjun did, as time permitted, was slip to the tunnels under the city, which now held no terrors for him, to practice magic. He went in complete darkness, shadows following him and ghouls fleeing before him. He put great study into the protective circles in the tablets of Shirin, like the one he’d failed at when he’d unleashed the… thing from outside.

  This time, he tried no such dangerous magic, instead once the circle was drawn, he conjured his flame, and pushed his hand with it to the inner ring, where the protection was supposed to start. It held, and the flame splashed in the air against the circle. He’d gotten it right! He smiled, and began to practice other things.

  As the weeks went on, he mastered various simpler forms of the Words of Opening, testing them on his own protective circles. In the process he learned a great deal about combining or altering different aspects of magic. He began to bring fresh clay tablets with him, and compile notes of his own. One day, he had great success working with the flame portal on his hand. He found that he could alter it to project a narrower jet of flame more than a foot out. At other times, something went wrong, and he ended some experiments with agonizing magical backlash coursing over his body. With care, however, he avoided disasters on the scale of the small earthquake he’d made at the tower of guard.

  One day, he reflected how often it might be that someone was in a position of having as many tablets of magical lore as he possessed, and a place to practice it, but no master to train them. He guessed not often, at least not where such a person lived for long. He wondered if his self-training would lead him unknowingly down paths usually avoided by magi. It was a risk he was willing to take, in order to have his revenge.

  But that led him directly to thinking of Inina. He was not willing to take risks with her life, and that of their child. She was staying at home for longer stretches as the baby grew inside her, and he realized it was unlikely in the foreseeable future that she’d be joining him on any more dangerous ventures. For that matter, should he even do so himself? He burned with desire for vengeance on Bal-Shim and all the man’s friends and allies. Inina had joined with him knowing that, but now matters had changed. He considered making the rumors true, and fleeing the city with her, but immediately knew he could not do so while Bal-Shim lived. He then considered sending her away to hide in some other land while he finished what he’d started. But would she be willing to? Then he caught himself. The only one who could answer that was her, and he’d have to talk to her to find out. He decided he’d better do so sooner than later.

  But there was one more thing to do before he went home.

  He drew a fresh protective circle on the ground, with such reinforcements described in the books as he thought would be specifically useful against summoned things. He seated himself in the center, sword at his side. Then he began to trace his fingers in the air, slowly drawing the Forge of the Least of Worlds.

  The small ring appeared as before, glowing with traceries of magic. He left only one small thing incomplete as he studied the rest. It took intense concentration and willpower, as well as a great deal of his energy, to keep the rest in place while he did so. Everything looked in order, everything looked perfect. He completed the ring.

  There was a glow of magic, a disc of light inside the ring, then a flash, and where the glow had been was a blue black void. Arjun could see its outlines in shadow and magic. It was as much as his skill could muster, a space smaller than that behind the red granite seal, no more than four hands breadths in any direction, but large enough for certain needful things.

  He named his world, and gave it a word of command. With the word, he dismissed it, closing the entrance as if nothing had ever been there. Then again with the word, spoken only in his mind, he opened the entrance once more.

  He had it! His spirit soared and his heart exulted. Then exhaustion came over him from the potent magic he had worked. He almost lost consciousness, and then sat for some time in blank listlessness, eyes and mind unfocused.

  Sensing presences, he looked into the darkness outside his circle, and many spirits and shapes of shadow were there. He focused his eyes to see them clearly, and was again amazed at how varied their shapes were. Some looked like the shades of living people, in ancient garb, but with eyes that looked lost. Others were alien and horrible, still others vague and indistinct even with his sight, and others yet seemed whimsical, even friendly in an unearthly way. Here in the tunnels were a few of a type he hadn’t seen before, like shades, but of creatures resembling the victims in the hideous carvings. Vaguely humanoid in shape, he’d never seen their like. They were fainter than the others. One day, he vowed to find out more about what all the shadow beings might be. But now, he had things to do.

  ~

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes, Arjun my love, I’m sure. I’ll see this through with you.”

  “You would be safer somewhere else. I have trade contacts in Tem, and even visited there once as a boy, with my father. Things will probably be safer there, at least for now.”

  “I’ll think about it, but I’m not ready. Life in this city has been hard on me more often than not, but it is all I’ve ever known, and I don’t want to leave it without you.”

  “Very well, I love you with all my heart,” said Arjun, looking into Inina’s eyes, and the mixture of love and worry there. He knew she felt more than she said. He made a decision.

  “I promise you, once I’ve gotten Bal-Shim, I’ll stop. The rest will have to wait for better days. We really will have to leave the city then. I won’t raise our child like this.”

  “IF you get him…” and now he could see repressed emotions were nearing the surface in her, “Please, please be careful, Arjun, and I know only you can decide what is right to you, but at least consider stopping now…”

  He frowned, and turned away, pain and purpose clashing in his mind.

  ~

  One day, Arjun stopped by the stall of Umrub the G’abudim. For a long time, the taciturn man had had nothing new to say. This time he gestured for Arjun to come closer, and spoke to him quietly.

  “It has been granted. Come to us in one week to our quarter of the city, alone.”

  Arjun thanked him, and moved on as if nothing significant had been said. In passing, he’d noted something else. Since magics had been placed permanently on his eyes, he’d thought he detected faint flashes of magic on the G’abudim, this time he was sure he’d seen it, in the shape of a glyph on the man’s forehead. Moving through the bazaar from Umrub’s stall, Arjun heard some further news that put fresh fires in him. Merchants who dealt in metals were whispering that the last of the bronze makers had been put out of business or arrested on charges of foreign intrigue. The last of the bronze makers but Bal-Shim, that was, and now the entire bronze making industry in Zakran was in his hands. If the opinions of the merchants were anything to go by, Bal-Shim was not doing a good job at it.

  Arjun seethed, old wounds rubbed fresh in his minds. He’d known most of the families of bronze makers in the city, and some of their children had been friends of his growing up, at least before his mother had died and he’d dedicated himself to work and knowledge. He pitied them now. He might not be able to help them, but he could at least harm their destroyer, Bal-Shim. It occurred to him to pay a visit to Enlil on his way back, for he sensed the completion of his training might be drawing near, and wanted to see if, for once, Enlil would give him a clear idea of where he stood, and what he still needed to learn.

  He made his way through the streets, and noted the now omnipresent groups of guards, informers and Bal-Shim’s new so-called people’s watchmen. Conversations on the streets were less lively these days, more hushed and secretive, with glances over shoulders and guesswork as to trust. Whatever was happening to his city, it was very bad, and far broader than what had been done to him.

  At the house of Enlil, it took a while for the door to be answered. He was quickly hurried inside, and found Enlil
with the tense air he’d had for weeks.

  “Apprentice, what brings you here at this hour?”

  “Master Enlil, I’m trying to vary my schedule to throw off any waiting eyes, including those that might follow me to your house. It means my visits may become fewer yet. Can you tell me what I still need to learn?”

  Enlil watched him a long while. “Very little now. You are near enough that I think we might call it good, but I’d like to do this right, and give you a proper ceremony marking the completion of your training. Why don’t you come back in a week or two?”

  ~

  On the docks of the middle harbor, Arjun stood with Maiat, watching ships sail past the mighty lighthouse called the Torch of Zamisphar. Other ships arrived with cargoes from distant lands. He’d rescued her and arranged passage out of Zakran to the city of Tema to the north, on a ship captained by a friend of Lurshiga’s. Maiat turned to him and kissed his cheek.

  “Thank you master Arjun, thank you!”

  “Here is some gold, divide it with Geb, Dur-Sim and the others. I’m sorry I couldn’t find Tishat. The Zash-Ulshad keep a close watch on their slaves.”

  “Master Arjun, why don’t you and your wife come with us?”

  “We have other purposes, and I would only endanger you. They might not care enough to go hunting in foreign lands for you, but they will me. Now go.”

  With a little bow she turned and set off to a new, but safer life.

  17. The Tale of Stealthy Paths

  It was a mild day, as was common this time of year in what passed for winter in Zakran. Arjun made his way to the G’abudim quarter, dressed as a laborer carrying sacks of planks. His face was smeared with dirt, and a cloth was tied around his head. His kilt was plain cotton, brown with dirt.

  A seemingly random G’abudim from the crowd greeted him, and put him in the care of another who guided him where he needed to go, a courtyard compound with very high walls, deep in their quarter and far from either the harbor or the city walls.

  Within, he was brought to what looked like a larger version of the ornately and grotesquely carved building he’d visited before. Inside, the walls were decorated with strange symbols and hideous circular faces. He could see magic sparkling from the decorations, the doorway, and items on the men before him. He noticed something else; there were no things of darkness in the building, or in the courtyard around it, none at all. Seven G’abudim sat on a large low dais. The second from the left was Umrub. The man in the center looked very old, and had numerous tattoos. The rightmost of all the men bid Arjun to sit before them. Then he spoke,

  “We have been watching your deeds, Arjun dra Artashad. Those we know, that all the city knows, are yours, and those we guess. If you wish to train with us, you will guard yourself with greater caution for a time.”

  Arjun nodded, “I will do as you wish.”

  “Now, Arjun dra Artashad, tell us the full tale of your deeds in this one-man war of yours. Leave nothing out, so that we may assess you.”

  And Arjun did so, from the time the guards smashed in his father’s front door, through all the fights in between, his use of magic, his failure in trying to rescue his father, and his successful rescue of such former servants of his house as he thought could still be trusted. At the mention of the thing he’d unintentionally released, then hunted down, there was a ripple of interest even among the impassive G’abudim. It occurred to Arjun that though he’d thought some sort of translation was going on when the elders spoke in their language, and the juniors in his, they needed no translation when he spoke to them.

  The man on the right spoke again, “That opening of a hole in the world was reckless, Arjun dra Artashad. You will not use magic you do not understand while you are in our quarter here, or anywhere near our people.”

  “I understand,” said Arjun.

  As he watched the G’abudim, focused his mind and his eyes, he could see the faint glimmer of strange magic on their foreheads.

  “What do you see, Arjun dra Artashad?” said the man on the right.

  “The faint flicker of an unfamiliar kind of magic on your brows,” said Arjun.

  Thoughtful expressions crossed the faces of the G’abudim. At last, the one on the right spoke again, “You could not perceive them, even with your magic of seeing, without some special sign upon you. Should we agree to train you, and you accept, you will learn more of such things.”

  Arjun nodded.

  “If you are to train with us, you will undergo certain tests. You will not find them pleasant. Understand that though we of G’abud are known for secrecy, we value honesty as much as discretion. We do not tolerate lying among ourselves. We must be sure of you. If you pass the tests, you will be given a mark such as the lesser of us bear, and then we will train you in the poisons and subtleties you seek. You however will then owe us a service of our choosing.”

  “I will not do deeds such as were done to me and mine,” said Arjun, worried.

  “Do not fear. There are only two kinds of men who make truly effective assassins, Arjun dra Artashad, those of no conscience at all, whom we do not take into our service, and those who believe intently in something. We would find such a task as would be in accordance with your conscience, so that you might find the will to succeed.”

  “And what of your consciences?” asked Arjun, still unsure.

  “They are ours to guard. We ask no more of you than we have said, and you may ask no more of us.”

  “I accept,” said Arjun.

  “First you must pass the tests,” was the reply.

  ~

  Arjun was taken to a small room, the walls of which were thickly carved with symbols, patterns, and faces. Magic was everywhere. It was lit by a single flickering lamp. There were no windows. In the center was a wooden cot.

  “Lie here,” said the G’abudim who had been chosen as his guide.

  He was shorter even than the norm for his folk, his kilt was uneven in the usual G’abudim style with short sides and long center panels in front and back, but trimmed in black, as were the panels on his chest and back. He wore a bag slung over one shoulder with many small compartments, and intricate designs stitched outside. Arjun could see no magic on the bag, though one of the man’s amulets bore it.

  Arjun lay down on the cot, arms at his side. The G’abudim walked up to him, pulled out a small ornately carved obsidian knife from a black sheath, and without a word, nicked Arjun’s right forearm. He had felt far too many wounds to flinch at the small cut, but what followed was something else entirely.

  A cold wave swept through his nerves around his body. Not numbness, for he could still feel, but immobility. His lungs, heart, and organs still seemed to be working, but the muscles of his arms and legs, not at all. That was not the worst of it though. For behind the G’abudim in the black-trimmed clothes came another differently attired carrying a small cage. Something about half the size of a fist moved angrily and buzzed inside.

  Arjun felt a new wave of cold run through his mind, and for a moment doubted his choice in accepting training. Still, they’d said there would be tests. He steeled his thoughts.

  The second G’abudim walked forward without a word, and opened the top of the little cage. With a deft motion like a striking snake, he put his fingers inside, and emerged with an insect that looked much like a wasp, but larger, and with its wings clipped. It writhed its body trying to sting the man who held it, but he had a grip in exactly such a way that it couldn’t. The man stood next to Arjun, and lowered the wasp-like thing to his left forearm. He felt the sting.

  Pain like liquid fire flowed up through the veins of his arm, as it entered his chest, the pain diffused into a kind of heat, and he began to sweat. He felt something affecting his mind. Not dulling it, just making it harder to edit or analyze what passed through it. He tried to shake off the feeling, but failed.

  Then the G’abudim who’s sat on the right, the one who spoke fluent Hayyidi, entered the room. He stood at the foot of the cot as
the others made complex gestures to him, then left with calm steps. Then, he spoke to Arjun, asking him to relate his tale once more, which Arjun did. After that, he had certain pointed questions to ask, questions that seemed designed to discover hidden motives or treacherous goals in Arjun and perhaps to better assess his beliefs and his capabilities. For his part, Arjun found himself answering with what came first and most directly to mind, what he thought to be true. The questions went on for a long time.

  At last, the G’abudim ceased with questions, and told him something new.

  “For most, it is impossible to lie under the effects of what is in your body. By your words I believe you have established the truth of what you told us before. We also now know of what you actually think yourself capable, and can make judgments of our own besides. If you are to be of use to us, we must make the right use of you. Understand that you are being given a great gift and an expression of trust by us. Once you don a spirit mark, you will see.”

  “You will find that you perceive things previously hidden, what this may do in combination with the magics you have already rashly placed upon yourself, we cannot say, but it will likely give you both power and danger to yourself. So be it. You will also find that you cannot lie to any other bearing a spirit mark, or they to you. Not because the magic has means to know your mind, but because you do. You may keep secrets, as we do, but not lie. You will find that with truth comes risk, and responsibility.”

  “Also, because you are now in a state where it is difficult for you to lie, even to yourself, and this is an irrevocable choice you must make, we ask you again, do you wish what we offer?”

  “Yes,” said Arjun, with jaw muscles that barely worked.