Still, there was no attack.
Kurugiri was waiting.
In the dim light of predawn, I felt tired and bleary-eyed, and not at all heroic. Gazing at the deep, narrow channels etched into the mountainside, I reminded myself that I had done such a thing before in the Stone Forest.
But that had been a gentle, lovely place compared to this stark maze, and we had been able to draw our enemies away. We had had myriad paths to choose from, and a dragon to guide us.
Here, there was only one path that would not lead us astray, and we would be trapped within its confines with assassins waiting for us.
While Hasan Dar ordered his men into line, I sat cross-legged and breathed the cycle of the Five Styles. Bao sat beside me and did the same, his knee brushing against mine. I expanded my senses and drew strength from earth’s pulse, from trees growing, from the memory of ocean’s rolling waves, from embers glowing, and the wind’s sigh.
I thought about Master Lo Feng, who had taught us both. What Master Lo had taught me had made me stronger and wiser, better able to focus the gift of the Maghuin Dhonn Herself, using it as it was meant to be used.
I felt his loss keenly, and wished he were here to counsel us, to tell me that I had done the right thing in refusing Naamah’s offer.
Too soon, all was in readiness. Bao and I would take the lead, a handful of guards behind us, followed by the fellows carrying the battering ram. Hasan Dar had placed the Rani in the middle of the line lest we find ourselves ambushed from behind, and he would guard her himself, commanding from the center. Every man under his command had a copy of the map we had drawn based on Bao’s tattooed arms.
“Are you ready?” Hasan Dar asked, his handsome face taut with apprehension.
Bao’s gaze slid sideways toward me, his staff held loosely in his hands. “Moirin?”
I took a deep breath and stood. “Aye, I’m ready.” I strode toward my mount Lady, and swung myself astride.
Bao followed suit, thrusting his bamboo staff through a thong strapped across his back. I checked my yew-wood bow and quiver, testing the draw before slinging it over my shoulder. I glanced behind us, seeing the long line of guards, the Rani Amrita looking small and cold and determined in their midst. Faint streaks of pink were emerging on the eastern horizon, making the scudding clouds blush.
I looked at Bao, my stubborn, irrepressible peasant-boy with the vast heart. “I love you, you know.”
“Uh-huh.” He flashed his battle-grin at me. “I love you, too, Moirin,” he said, adding a familiar warning. “So try not to get yourself killed, huh?”
I smiled back at him. “You, too. Once was enough.”
At my word, Hasan Dar ordered his men to avert their gazes so that I might summon the twilight to hide us from all eyes. I took another deep breath and called it, wrapping it around Bao and me.
The world turned soft and silver-dim. Behind us, there were cries of wonder at finding us vanished. In the distant heights, I felt the flicker of Kamadeva’s diamond calling to me.
I ignored it, focusing on the path before us. “Let’s go.”
SEVENTY
The path was so narrow we were forced to ride single file, and its walls were steep and high. I’d never felt so claustrophobic in a natural place before, painfully aware of the fact that we were trapped here, that if I lost my grip on the twilight, Bao and I would be the first targets. With a hundred men behind us, there was no chance of escape.
Bao took the lead, consulting the tattoo on his right arm, matching symbols at every fork of the path.
Every path not taken made my skin tingle, for there could be assassins lurking within them, waiting to fall on our company from the side. It was unlikely, since they could do the most damage obstructing the path before us, but it was possible. And I had to keep my awareness focused on the path ahead. I couldn’t afford to spread myself too thin.
According to Bao, there had been seventeen men in Jagrati’s thrall, and all but two were highly trained killers.
Five had been killed during their escape from the meadow, and Bao had left. The poisoner and the fellow lurking in the Rani’s hidden room were dead.
That left nine men, plus the Falconer himself. When I counted the numbers, it seemed a ridiculous few to inspire such fear… but in the maze, at the forefront of our small army, it didn’t seem foolish at all.
Left, then right, then left, and left again. All the turns made me feel disoriented and dizzy. I shook my head, concentrating. The call of Kamadeva’s diamond grew stronger as we climbed, the rich hues of its dark fire beckoning to Naamah’s gift within me, seeking to beckon me out of the twilight.
Behind us was the clatter of hoofbeats, the jingle and creak of gear and weapons, the sounds of men breathing hard and swearing as they attempted to wrestle a battering ram through the narrow, twisting path.
I wished they would all be quiet.
We had been climbing for over an hour when I sensed the first living presence other than our own on the mountain, at a point where the path ahead of us widened around a sharp bend to the right.
“Bao, hold,” I said softly, and he drew rein, waiting. Glancing behind me, I willed Hasan Dar’s second in command to hear me. “Pradeep, hold and wait.”
He nodded fearfully, and whether it was due to the threat of assassins, or hearing my disembodied voice, I couldn’t say. But he did as we had agreed, signalling silently to the army to wait.
There was no time to hesitate. The killer ahead of us would have heard our company approaching. If Bao and I delayed, he might move to investigate. Firming my grip on the twilight, I joined Bao and we rode around the bend.
The assassin was an archer, and he had chosen his spot well. He had gone to one knee at the far end of a straight, wide stretch of path, and he had an arrow nocked and drawn. There was a tray of sand before him from which the shafts of another score of arrows bristled, points thrust into the sand, ready at hand.
Remembering how quickly the man in the Rani’s chamber had thrown a flurry of knives, I shivered. I didn’t doubt that this fellow was just as quick, just as deadly.
“One of the good ones or bad ones?” I asked Bao.
“Bad,” he murmured. “Do you want me to take him, Moirin?”
I shook my head. “It’s on me, either way.” I nocked an arrow and drew, my hands shaking a little.
I had killed men twice before, but only in the heat of battle. This was murder, plain and simple. Even if the fellow would gladly have done the same to me given the opportunity, it was still murder. He had no idea I was there. His face was calm and silvery in the twilight, utterly focused. It reminded me a bit of the Tatar archer Vachir’s quiet, steady confidence, which made it all the harder.
My diadh-anam was quiet within me, neither warning nor encouraging. The Maghuin Dhonn Herself would give me no guidance in this matter. The choice was mine to make, the risk of losing Her favor mine to take.
This, I thought, was truly an unclean deed that would leave a stain on my soul. But thinking of my lady Amrita raising poor, dead Sameera’s maimed hand to her lips and kissing it, thinking of Ravindra’s grave face as he bade his mother farewell, I knew it was a darkness I was willing to accept.
“Make sure it’s a clean kill,” Bao said quietly, reading the decision on my face. “He’ll start shooting blind if you don’t take him in one.”
I nodded. “Get as close to the wall as you can. He’s likely to loose his bowstring when he’s struck.”
Kneeing our mounts, we plastered ourselves as close to the walls as we could.