The Unsound Prince Read online

  The first touched down briefly, and several dark shapes slid off its back. Then it sprang skyward again while a second creature landed, and unloaded more passengers.

  Bear was on the far side of the square, alone. He met the dark shapes head on. They were smaller than him, but their teeth and claws were fast and deadly. One went down to a lightning-fast strike from Bear’s sword. Then he spun round, driving the blade through another, but he didn’t see the third winged creature as it landed behind him. Great, clawed talons fastened onto his shoulders, and it sprang skyward again, dragging Bear with it.

  Ochren charged into the darting shapes, trying to follow Bear. Long heads and curved teeth snapped wickedly around him. Their bite was surely poisonous, and he concentrated on staying away from their jaws.

  Shyleen and Liam arrived together. Working as one they pulled back the powerful recurved Ranger bows. Razor pointed arrows drove deep into the chest of the winged creature as it lifted into the air with Bear. It staggered, and its wings beat more wildly. Two more arrows followed, with deadly effect. The unnatural demon collapsed out of the sky.

  The compound's farmhands were now beginning to arrive, armed with pitchforks and quarterstaffs. They joined Colma and Mareet in a protective circle around Bear. Mudge tore apart his shirt and tried to stop the bleeding.

  Ochren, Shyleen and Liam pressed forward into the band of attackers, using their swords to kill several of them. The strange creatures seemed uncertain against more even numbers.

  Working shoulder to shoulder, the Rangers pressed the attackers back. Barely to shoulder height, lean and otter-like, the black and grey creatures seemed more at home on four legs than two, but they pulled themselves upright when they attacked, lunging forward with their snapping heads.

  Fortunately the Rangers had a longer reach with their swords, and it was clear the attackers would all soon be dead on the ground.

  Colma called out a warning, and the crack of giant wing beats sounded from above. Ochren and the Rangers fell back hurriedly. The remaining winged horrors dropped to the ground, and the dark shapes scrambled to remount them. Then they sprang into the air. With great parting beats of their wings, the unnatural monsters were gone.

  The Rangers worked their way across the square, moving among the corpses and making sure life was gone from each of them. The farmhands joined them, looking down at the contorted bodies in amazement. They wouldn’t go near the still twitching giant wings of the monster Ranger arrows had brought down.

  Arnima and Senovila arrived, and hurried to Bear’s side. Mudge had stopped the worst of the bleeding, but it kept seeping through the cloth he was using. He was glad Arnima was there to take over.

  Bear was now conscious, though he was grimacing as he bore the pain. Arnima had the farmhands bring him into one of the side rooms, while Mudge kept pressure over the wounds. She rummaged in one of her bags for the things she would need.

  Ochren’s old friend Athren appeared, and Arnima gave him a list of things she didn’t have. He sent a farmhand to the main house at a run.

  Seeing Bear in good hands, Ochren returned to the square. There was no sign of further trouble, but he set sentries again. Then he motioned for the rest of the team to return to their rooms. It would be good if they could get some rest before dawn.

  When she’d finished with Bear, Arnima passed a hand lightly over his forehead. He slumped against the pillows, sound asleep. Every line of pain had vanished from his face.

  “Tidy trick,” said Mudge, who was helping her with the bindings around Bear’s chest.

  Arnima looked up. “I’ve given him healing dreams, and that’s the best I can do. The mind has a very strong effect on the body, and healers have to use that to their advantage. He's at the limits of what a body can endure.

  “The salves I’ve used will help him too.”

  She packed up the last of her things. Then she hesitated.

  “What you see around me you keep to yourself, and what I see around you I keep to myself, understand?” she said abruptly, turning back to him.

  Mudge nodded. It felt like he was being allowed into a secret. No, into a secret society. He was being included in a group of people who needed to keep part of their lives to themselves, if they were to remain sane. He was pleased that she included him.

  “Spirit workers need friends,” she went on. “Someone who understands. The things we do that are, mmm, different, we keep to ourselves. But with some people we are lucky. These are people who have been through similar experiences.”

  Mudge saw the good sense in her words. He did feel awkward being a spirit walker, as if he was on show, or on trial, it was hard to say which. She was giving him a way to cope with that.

  He smiled broadly, and stepped over to wrap his arms around her in a big hug.

  She looked up, a little surprised. Then returned his embrace.

  “Thank you,” he said warmly, “that’s good advice.”

  He paused. “Life has got so complicated these last few days, it’s a real treat for me to find something that makes sense.”

  She studied him thoughtfully. His father was coming out more strongly in him every day. Mudge would win the loyalty of those around him, and that was something his father did. He would do it with his openness, and his appreciation of the efforts of others. Yet he was also different. What would the prince become that the father was not?

  She smiled at him. “Talk to me any time,” she said gently, and gathered up her healer’s kit. Then she headed back to her rough pallet in the common room. Senovila was already asleep, making peculiar whistling noises through his nostrils.

  The bodies in the centre of the compound were badly decayed by the time morning came. Ochren kicked one, and it collapsed on itself, becoming a spreading, boneless bag of jelly.

  “Qin-ji,” said Mudge, standing beside him. “A summonsed creature. At least that tells us there aren’t whole colonies of these things somewhere in our world. No large numbers the enemy can send against us.”

  Ochren lifted an eyebrow, wanting to know more. Mudge wondered how he would explain this. He searched his memory for scraps of knowledge from his years at the Priatic School of Mysteries.

  “These are made creatures,” he said, “and now they’re reverting to the stuff that gave them life. If they’re coming from Xaan, then Ottar Bey’s got some pretty nasty characters working for him.” He was about to add more, but stopped himself. Ochren didn’t need to know that making such creatures was beyond any human agency. He would see for himself when they got to Xianak.

  It was also beyond any sense of morality. It meant capturing souls from the recently dead to animate the creatures, and that meant the travellers were up against something evil. Something that had no conscience, and no sense of the pain it caused others.

  “How did they know we were here?” said Ochren.

  That was a good question. Mudge worried for a moment that they were homing in on his spirit senses, but that didn’t stand up to rigorous examination. The winged creature had found them in The Wilderness by chance. It had been searching for them for a day or two before that. Its kills on the hilltops proved that.

  In the same way, the compound on the hill was an obvious landmark in the direction they were travelling. Mudge relaxed. He didn't need to invent supernatural causes for explainable events.

  He put all this to Ochren, who nodded in agreement.

  “Athren says there have been some shady characters hanging around Attica lately,” he said quietly. He stopped for a moment, planning their journey in his mind.

  "I'm thinking of bypassing the place. We can stock up on provisions here if we have to. It might be a lot safer."

  Mudge kicked himself. This was something he should have thought of. Attica wasn't that far away, and he could search the place with his spirit senses. He nodded, and said he’d take a look at Attica for Ochren.

  He found a quiet place on the windward side of the compound, and wondered how he should proce
ed. He waited, and his mind began to settle. Then he heard the jingling sounds of a harness in the distance. The others were hitching the horses to the cart. He didn't have long.

  Mudge extended his spirit senses toward the town. It wasn’t long before he picked up the tell-tale spirit traces of people going about their days.

  At first it was too much for him. There were so many people. The life signs mixed with animal traces, and the occasional brighter point of somebody with untrained spirit abilities.

  Then he began to see a larger pattern. His vantage point rose, exactly as it did in his dreams. He could see the shape of Attica by the flickers of life that ran along each street, particularly where people were grouped together in houses, and in merchant shops that were about to open.

  Then he tried to catalogue the spirit traces. He was able to discern young from old, and the bright from the dull. Among them were some who flared with high spirit energies. He had almost completed his sweep of the town when he came across what had to be Xaanian agents.

  The spirit traces he saw were muted, a dull red against the clear yellows and whites of the rest of the population. Did that mean they weren’t human? Or did it mean something was possessing them, controlling their minds?

  Two of the dull red traces appeared to be hiding in a storage room. Quick, jerky movements told him they weren’t human. The other one moved at normal speed along the streets. It seemed to be mixing with Attica’s human population without any problems.

  The dull red trace turned into a large building on the edge of town. Mudge realised it was a garrison for the Karnatic Defence Force. He could clearly see the disciplined minds within the building.

  Mudge felt his blood run cold. It appeared the Xaanian agents had infiltrated the garrison itself. Whether this one was passing as a soldier, or had a firm control over the commander of the garrison, was something he didn’t know. Either way, it would be a very good idea to bypass Attica.

  Mudge withdrew his spirit senses. He felt disoriented for a moment, and then he was looking about the walled compound. He stood slowly, and shook the numbness out of his legs.

  Ochren turned his head as Mudge came up beside him. He waited for Mudge to tell him what he had learned.

  “There’s a Xaanian agent in the garrison,” said Mudge quietly, “and two more in the town itself.”

  Ochren said nothing for a moment. The Legatus’ boy seemed so young, so awkward, to be a spirit walker. It didn’t feel right for Ochren to be sending him out to gather information like this, but the League desperately needed Mudge's skills.

  He smiled. The boy had done well. “One in the garrison?” he said, pursing his lips. That was not good. The Xaanians would know who was coming and going along the Trade Routes, and which troops were being sent where.

  Mudge nodded.

  “If that’s the case we'll get our supplies here, I think,” said Ochren. “My Ranger friend has already offered them to us. It will take at least two days to cross the mountains, and we'll need to allow more for emergencies.”

  “The mountains?” said Mudge, surprised.

  “The Keep’s pretty much opposite us, on the other side of the Scaffold Mountains,” said Ochren.

  “I’d rather take the traditional route, the High Pass on the other side of Attica. Then we could travel back along the edge of the desert to the Keep. But cutting through the mountains makes more sense if we don’t want to be seen on the Trade Routes.”

  Mudge hesitated, and Ochren waited for the boy to speak.

  “Why are we going to Tashigot Keep?” he said at last.

  Ochren sighed. He’d been expecting this question. The keep was on their way to Xaan, but there was more to it than that. It had been surprising no one else had asked him this question. The Rangers, well, they knew Ochren would brief them when they got closer to the Keep. They were happy just to keep their minds on day-to-day survival.

  “There’s a little business there that we have to take care of,” he said at last.

  Mudge waited patiently.

  Ochren sighed. This was going to be awkward. How much should he tell the boy? He might as well say something about the history of the place. There could be no harm in that.

  “The Keep was built right there for a reason, Mudge. Yes, it marks the southern boundary of Xaan, and the place where the desert and the mountains meet. It's an obvious place to put an outpost, at the foot of the mountains with a good view in all directions, but there are other places just as good.”

  Ochren paused, and looked at his young companion.

  “The Keep is built on that spot because something is buried under it,” he said finally. “Something that is very old. Older than all the recorded history of Xaan, and certainly older than the brief years of the Karnatic League.”

  Ochren snorted at the long reach of history. Ultrich had pulled the League together in one short lifetime, and that was a great achievement, but it would take generations of great leaders to make the federation last.

  “The Legatus wants us to check on what’s lying under the Keep. Make sure it's still there. The Xaanian mages are using increasing amounts of spirit power, and it has to be coming from somewhere. It’s up to us to see that the Keeper Stone is safe.”

  “The Keeper Stone?” said Mudge, a little startled. He’d never heard of it.

  “We’ll be there soon,” said Ochren, “and you’ll see what I mean.” Then he turned away.

  It looked like that was as much of an explanation as Mudge was going to get.

  “To get to the Keep we have to do some hard hiking in the mountains,” said Ochren, a few minutes later. “The others are ready to move out, and a guide should be here soon. Let’s get this mad scramble under way!”

  Mudge nodded. He looked from the compound toward the dark wall of the peaks. They were streaked with late winter snow in the valleys. He shivered. He hoped the guide knew a way through the valleys rather than over the tops. Up there you froze at night, and one slip could be your last.

  He wondered for a moment how his father’s preparations for war were going. Senovila had mentioned the mobilisation of the Defence League. In a way he wished he was there, doing something to help. What could be so useful about a side trip to Tashigot Keep? Weren’t they just wasting time?

  Still, the Legatus had decreed it. Just like everything else in his life, he thought bitterly, so there was no point in fighting it.

  Mudge hurried to Senovila’s cart, and the small group of travellers made its way out of the compound. They followed the track down off the hill and onto the plains.

  The guide pointed to a spot at the foot of the mountains, and they set off in that direction. A rough farm track ran between fields of just-planted crops. It was pleasant walking, and their backs were warmed by the early morning sun.

  SEVEN

  A sudden squall drove down the length of Taire Valley. Soldiers cursed as they ran to tie down tent flaps, while others launched themselves onto items in danger of blowing away. There was a small thunderclap, associated by most with the dark clouds racing overhead. Sergeos, Cinnabar and the Legatus stepped out from behind a stores tent.

  Cinnabar was the only other spirit walker capable of this sort of spirit transportation. Using her help, Ultrich was able to recover fairly quickly from the prodigious effort. Still, however you looked at it, transporting three people from Karnassus to Beltainia in an instant was quite a feat.

  They strode toward Yeltar’s command tent, clearly marked out in the royal crimson and gold of the Beltainian nobility.

  “Tell me again how you fix an arrival point with such accuracy when you haven’t seen the place before,” said Sergeos. He was ever the Mysteries teacher, keen to learn more about spirit walker abilities.

  Ultrich smiled. “I didn’t tell you,” he said. Sergeos looked a bit put out, and Ultrich clasped his friend’s shoulder.

  “Never stop asking questions, Sergeos, we’d be worried if you did,” he said, laughing. Cinnabar smiled too.
It had taken her a long time to get used to Sergeos’ inquisitiveness. She had come to realise the Legatus was surrounded by officials and diplomats most of the time, ‘yes men’ in many ways. He treasured his friend’s blunt questions.

  “I did a flyover the day before,” he said briskly.

  “What, you flew over the valley in person?” said Sergeos, unable to contain his curiosity. The sort of power needed to overcome gravity for any length of time was enormous. Spirit transportation from place to place was difficult enough, but this . . .

  Ultrich laughed outright.

  “No, not that sort of flyover,” he said, cutting Sergeos off. “Think of something like farsight at a much great distance.”

  Sergeos fell silent, trying to figure out how that might work.

  The command tent was straight ahead. The Legatus would be given a guard of honour if the sentries recognised him, although he would need to know the password. If they weren’t recognised, and they didn’t have the password, they would be trussed up and thrown into a tent until someone decided what to do with them.

  Yeltar ran a well-trained army. With a Xaanian invasion force just over the border, they were all extremely grateful for that.

  “Legatus!” snapped the first of the sentries, standing so straight he was almost rigid.

  “At ease,” said Ultrich, though this seemed to have little effect on the sentry.

  “Our Guardian is being informed you are here, Legatus,” said the sentry, bowing deeply. His respect for Yeltar and Ultrich alike was obvious. His people revered Yeltar as an almost godlike figure, mostly for the way he had brought order to Beltainia, and then improved the living conditions of the people.

  “If we may show you to the reception room?” continued the sentry. Ultrich nodded. The three spirit walkers found themselves flanked by soldiers as they made their way inside the vast tent. It had so many partitions they would have been lost by themselves.