Death & Magic (The Barefoot Healer, volume I)

Death & Magic chapter 24

Chapter 24

Adramal took the Watchman at his word. She put her arms around his chest, as firmly as she dared. He spurred the horse into a gallop, and the surroundings blurred. The wind turned her hair into a hundred little whips. Every hoofbeat shuddered from her rump, up her spine, and into her jaw.

The saddle had stirrups for the Watchman, but not for her. The horse and the Watchman leaned into each bend, making her certain she’d slide off and break her neck. What would Perinar think if he heard she’d died ten miles from where she was supposed to be that day?

Soon, the city’s Salthes Gate became visible. The horse slowed with the increasing density of traffic. “Make way for the City Watch!” yelled the Watchman, and people scattered.

Once they passed through the gate, the Watchman said, “You don’t have to hold on quite so tight now, Lady. He’s a safe horse — very sure-footed.”

“You could’ve fooled me,” Adramal muttered. She relaxed her legs, but kept a firm grip on the Watchman.

“Forgive me, Lady. My Captain told me to bring you here as fast as I could. He also said that for the rest of the day, you’re to answer to the name Karil.”

“Whatever for? You all know who I am.”

“I think today, there will be a lot of people who don’t. We wouldn’t want word to get back to — to the place you’ve come from.”

They came to the south bank of the river and stopped outside a large building of dark granite. Thick pillars supported an imposing arched entrance that jutted into the street. Several Watchmen stood outside.

“The Salmarian Embassy,” Adramal said, as her stomach knotted.

The Watchman gave her a curious look. “You’ve been here before?”

“No, it says so over the door.” She pointed to the deep-carved lettering.

“Forgive me, Lady. I didn’t know you spoke Salmarian.”

Her mouth hung open. She was about to say, “I don’t,” when she looked again at the inscription. Now, it was just a meaningless jumble of lines that might as well have been produced by throwing knives at the lintel.

The Watchman dismounted. “Sorry. It’s none of my business.” She accepted his help in getting down off the horse. She shook her arms and legs, trying to work some of the soreness out of them. How had she known the name of this place?

The Watchman approached the guards by the entrance. “This is the wizard Karil. I vouch for her. She’s here to see Captain Tagahra.”

One of the Watchmen took her inside and led her up two flights of stairs and along several sections of broad, lamp-lit corridor. They passed four or five men, all with long black beards and clothing made of small squares of varied colours. These men, she supposed, must be Salmarians. They all gave her disapproving looks.

Adramal and the Watchman stopped by a closed door at the end of a corridor. Two Watchmen stood guard, along with three of the bearded men. Magic brushed at her senses, like the first scent of decay from food that had begun to rot.

The door opened. Captain Tagahra stood there. “Karil,” he said, forcing a smile. “Thank you for coming.”

“Your man didn’t say very much,” said Adramal. “Would I be right in thinking there’s been another murder?”

Tagahra sighed heavily. “The Deputy Ambassador.”

“And that’s bad, is it?”

He gave a short, mirthless laugh. “If the killer’s trying to stir up trouble for the city and the country, he’s going the right way about it. I should warn you this is messier than the last one.”