The Complete Darkwar Trilogy: Flight of the Night Hawks, Into a Dark Realm, Wrath of a Mad God

Pug laughed. ‘I know, but she’s got the worst temper of anyone in the family, and if she read those messages … we both know that time travel is possible. I journeyed to the dawn of time with Macros and Tomas, but I don’t know how to do it.’

‘Apparently, in the future, you do.’

‘But you know what the big question is, don’t you?’

Nakor nodded as they turned away from the tiny glowing thread of magic. ‘Are you sending messages to yourself to ensure a thing happens, or are you sending a message to prevent a thing that has happened to you from coming to be?’

‘I thought about the very first message that appeared to me, the morning before Earl James and the boy Princes left for Kesh.’

‘Tell James if he meets a strange man to say, “There is no magic.”’ Nakor nodded. ‘How do you think you knew that would be me?’

‘My theory is that we met much later in life, perhaps sometime yet in the future, and when things were much more dire than they are now. Perhaps it was my way of ensuring we had years to work together.’

‘I wondered much the same thing,’ said Nakor. ‘But we’ll never know, will we?’

‘If the future is fluid, then whatever I did changed things …’ He laughed. ‘Macros.’

‘What about him?’

‘His hand is in this, I know,’ said Pug. ‘Like everything else in my life …’ He shrugged. ‘If you get the chance, next time you see Tomas, ask him about the armour he wears and his dreams from the past, and … well, let him tell you. But that was Macros, and it also involved time travel.’

‘I will.’

They walked out of the woods, and neither man spoke a word until they reached Bek. The young man grinned. ‘Find it?’

‘Yes,’ said Pug. ‘How did you know it was there?’

Bek shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I just felt it was there.’

Pug and Nakor exchanged a look, then Nakor said, ‘Let’s go.’

‘Can we get something to eat?’ asked Bek. ‘I’m starving.’

‘Yes,’ said Pug. ‘We’ll feed you.’ Silently, he added to himself, And we’ll care for you as long as you don’t become a threat. Then we’ll kill you.

Pug took out a Tsurani orb and the three of them vanished from the grassy plain.

• CHAPTER THIRTEEN • (#ulink_e1569ac5-36f8-509b-8e92-3856c3301ffd)

Icons (#ulink_e1569ac5-36f8-509b-8e92-3856c3301ffd)

KASPAR STRODE INTO THE ROOM.

Talwin Hawkins and Caleb both nodded greeting.

‘It’s done,’ said Kaspar.

‘Political asylum?’ asked Caleb.

‘Of a sort. But it will do for our purposes.’

‘It’s good to have friends in high places,’ said Tal.

They were in a small room in the back of an inn, located in a different district of the city from where Caleb and the boys were staying, one frequented by foreigners and those from distant corners of the Empire. The coming and going of three obviously non-Keshians would not draw attention here. It was late and the city was quieting down, though this area was replete with revellers, as the plaza outside was frequented by the youth of this district. Against his better judgment, Caleb had left the boys outside near a fountain where a dozen or so young boys and girls had gathered. Still, he suspected they would find less trouble out in the open than if he left them in their room next to the two Trueblood girls, their excitable mother, and their personal bodyguard.

When he had finally seen the man, he wondered, like Tal had said, if he was really human.

‘Turgan Bey has told me what his agents have discovered, so far,’ said Kaspar. A pewter pitcher rested on the table and he poured himself a cup of wine. Drinking it, he made a face. ‘We should chuck this business and set up a wine importer from Ravensburg and some of the districts in the Eastern Kingdoms. We’d make a fortune if this is the best they have.’

‘This is not the River House,’ said Tal with a smile, referring to the restaurant he had established in Roldem. ‘And this is not the best wine that can be had in Kesh, as you know.’

Caleb took a sip. ‘It is, however, the best that can be had here.’

Kaspar leaned forward. ‘There is no pattern in the deaths, save one. Every murdered noble, Trueblood or not, is part of a loose alliance of Lords and Masters who are favourable to the ascension of Prince Sezioti to the throne when Diigai finally dies.’

Caleb said, ‘And is that supposed to happen any time soon?’

‘You tell me,’ said Kaspar. ‘Your father and brother are more likely to understand the information on the Emperor’s use of magic to extend his life than anyone.

‘But it’s clear from what Bey told me that many of the Lords and Masters are unhappy with him being the first Emperor to do so. His predecessor, Empress Leikesha, made it to over ninety on sheer spite – according to what I’ve been told she may have been the toughest old boot to ever sit on that throne – so the extra ten years or so for Diigai isn’t a problem yet, but it’s his use of magic that is. Seems the opinion of a majority of the rules of Great Kesh is the old boy is losing his political edge. He spends most of his time with his courtesans – which at his age, I think is heroic – and many of his edicts seem capricious. But none of them alter significant policy, so the level of distress over his current rule hasn’t reached a critical juncture, but the Gallery of Lords and Masters’ collective patience is wearing thin, and eventually the Emperor will be pressured to name an heir.’

‘Sezioti is a scholar who is respected, but not admired.’ Kaspar went on to tell them the rest of what Turgan Bey had shared about the politics of the Empire.

‘So,’ said Tal, ‘we can assume someone is trying very carefully to reduce Sezioti’s chances to rise to the throne, in favour of Dangai. Why?’

‘If the Nighthawks were not involved,’ said Caleb, ‘I would assume it’s the usual bloody Keshian politics. But with the Guild of Death working here, we must assume Leso Varen’s hand is in there somewhere, which means whatever he wants, we want the opposite.’

Kaspar stood. ‘I can’t stay. I am no doubt being followed, and while they know Tal and I are in contact, they don’t know about you. I suggest you leave last.’ Caleb nodded. ‘There’s a reception at the townhouse of Lord Gresh in a week,’ Kaspar said to Tal. ‘See if you can get yourself invited. It’s just your sort of crew: a lot of libertines, bored noble wives, curious daughters, degenerate gamblers, and hot-blooded boys looking to make a name for themselves by killing someone famous. You should be able to make half a dozen enemies in one night with some luck.’

Tal regarded Kaspar with a dour expression. ‘I’ll try my best.’

‘I’ll send Pasko with word as soon as I know anything worth reporting to you,’ said Kaspar, and he left.

Tal said, ‘He’s almost certainly right about being followed. I’ll leave next, and then you should wait a bit. Do you think you can get through the commons without being spotted?’

‘If no one saw me enter, yes,’ said Caleb. ‘And I was here for a full half-hour before either of you arrived, so I think I’m safe.

‘Still, now that we know Kaspar and you are being watched, I should undertake to be more cautious in the future. I’ll make arrangements so our next meeting is more secure.’

Tal glanced around the room. ‘What about being observed by … other means?’

Caleb reached into his belt purse and pulled out a small item. He handed it to Tal who looked at it. It appeared nothing more than a carved bone icon, some obscure household god, perhaps. ‘Nasur, a magician of the Lesser Path on my father’s island, made this. It prevents scrying or other magical eavesdropping. As long as I have it, no one can see or hear us by magical arts.’

Tal said, ‘A good thing to have. You wouldn’t have an extra one, would you?’

‘Even if I did, I wouldn’t give it to you. If you are being marked by Varen’s agents, they might be using arts to see or hear you. If you vanish from their ability to detect you here, why it’s simply a case of something not working right, or perhaps you or Kaspar ensuring this room was safe. If you vanish from sight all the time, they’ll know you’re more than what you appear to be.’

‘And what do I appear to be?’