Chapter 8: Oath, Part 2

"An old, forgotten magic," Binhadi said. "Under Oath, mages are bound together, unable to part, for a set length of time or until a certain requirement is met. I have never known it to be done. They're considered myth, and even if they are true, they're so rare and knowledge of them so non-existent that they're little better than myth."

Mahzan added, "Oaths were used back in bloodier days, when such bonds were necessary to achieve the levels and versatility of magic required. There are definite, reliable recordings of Oaths in the last Blood War, and in earlier wars. The Feelia bloodline was destroyed by an Oath formed under that very stricture. Prince Seda was a capable shadow mage, and the Grand Dukes were fiercely loyal to him and equally competent in magic. I see no reason they could not have sworn an Oath, and if it's an Oath of Heart, then even distance would not break it."

Sule's brow rose. "Why should I believe a royal fool over His Majesty's warlock?"

Sneering, Mahzan replied, "Interesting opinion from a man who doesn't even know what an Oath is. I may be King's Jester, but that doesn't mean I'm stupid. I can hold my own in knowledge and power with anyone in the Heart, even Warlock Morlock. I don't remember your sword and flames doing much to stop—"

He broke off as Sule leapt over the railing and down to the lower deck, landing neatly in front of him and reaching for his sword—only to be stopped by shadows closing over his hands. Sule glared furiously at Binhadi. "Release me."

"The Heart is destroyed, Claw is destroyed. We are very much the worse for wear. We need food, proper rest, and information. We will obtain none of that by acting like children." Binhadi's dark eyes flashed. "Behave like the North Captain you are supposed to be." He turned to Mahzan. "If you can hold your own with me, act like it." He gave them a last admonishing look and withdrew his shadows.

Sule returned to the helm. "So where shall we go? To obtain food and supplies and information? I could dock in Claw, but I do not know how far that would get us."

"Head northeast, toward Barren Point," Binhadi said. "If His Majesty was able to escape, that is where he would have been taken. It's the easiest place from which to push on to the Broken Monastery."

The priest looked up sharply, eyes narrowed. "How would you know that?"

Binhadi met his gaze unflinching. "The better question, priest, is how would you? Who and what are you?"

Smiling, nothing nice in the expression, the priest replied, "I am Cemal, a Shield of the Holy Order."

"You're a battle priest?" Sule asked in disbelief. "They still have those? I was never told such a thing."

"Our existence is known to precious few. My duty is to protect the High Priest and His Majesty," Cemal replied. "I was only made a shield priest six months ago, so my duties are still fairly minor." His face clouded.

Mahzan said quietly, "The High Priest did not survive."

"No, he did not," Cemal said flatly. "We almost had him out, but the fearmonger came on too suddenly, and we had nowhere to go. I am alive because I slipped. The rest of them were dead before they could draw breath to scream." He closed his eyes, hands balling into fists at his side, breaths coming out slow and careful.

Sule winced. He knew how it felt to be a survivor, even before the fearmonger. "It's not your fault."

Cemal said nothing, only opened his eyes and regarded Binhadi. "So we head for the Broken Monastery?"

"It seems our best option," Binhadi said, and turned to look at Sule.

He felt suddenly like a new recruit with the eyes of the general on him, acutely aware of all his shortcomings. Or like a son, painfully aware of the disappointment in his father's eyes. You're no daughter of mine! Sule flinched and looked away.

"You seem a competent sailor."

"Competent is a tad generous," Sule said, slowly turning back to face Binhadi. "But I probably won't sink us. Barren Point isn't far. We should be there in a few hours." He returned to his post and adjusted their course, grateful it took them away from fully seeing the ruin of Claw. "Do you think His Majesty made it to safety?"

"I don't know," Binhadi said. "I was busy in the Hall. I saw you take him away, but that is all."

Sule grunted, annoyance returning. "His private guard came, took him away. I returned to the Hall; I thought I'd be of more use there. I do not know what became of any of them. I hope they made it." He tried not to think of the tens of thousands of people who were dead. Hopefully they were all dead—if not, survivors were living on an island of corpses, and their food supplies would dwindle quickly to lake weed and fish, until they could find boats or get help from the outlying cities. Hopefully the outlying cities had noticed something was wrong and were headed to rescue whoever might be left.

He shuddered to think of the chaos that would spring up were the people to learn the king was dead and a fearmonger was somewhere out there, waiting to strike again. "What will happen if the king is dead?"

No one replied, but he supposed a reply wasn't necessary. The country needed a king, and the only remaining person of royal blood was a criminal locked away on an island far to the northeast. As Prince Seda was not a viable option, the remaining nobles would fight for the throne, and civil war would cause far more damage than a fearmonger.

They lapsed into silence, each man retreating to his own thoughts. Sule kept most of his attention on the fishing boat and the water, but curiosity compelled him time and again to look over his companions. Try as he might, he could not ignore them the way he normally would, though he could not explain why. Maybe it was a lingering effect of the way he, Cemal, and Mahzan had given their power to Binhadi for a time. He had never given his power to anyone, did not like the idea of someone having that sort of hold on him, but a good soldier did what was necessary.