Asunder: A Gathering of Chaos Cameron Hopkin (read a book txt) 📖

we handle him. I have met others – they’re beyond dangerous. Any upset could be catastrophic.”

Gamarron stared at her, dumbfounded. She simply won’t take no for an answer. He began to appreciate Nira’s helpless acceptance of the woman’s presence. She had decided to join him and had done whatever was necessary to make it happen. Her clarity of purpose was impressive, in a totally amoral kind of way. Best to go along. I’ll do no good for the North if she decides to make my heart burst. The situation will change sooner or later, and at that point I can decide what to do with her. In the meantime, let her think me cowed.

“Very well,” he said neutrally. “Let us discuss our options.”

She paused in her pacing, looking surprised and pleased. “Yes. Good. I’m glad to see you can think clearly even in a difficult situation. You’d be surprised how many people can’t,” she said with a sidelong glance at Nira.

The girl caught the implication and made a rude gesture at the older woman in response, though Gamarron noted that she waited until Renna’s back was turned.

“Now,” the Weaver continued, “if we’re going to use the Coliseum games to get the little lordlings away from this Guyrin fellow, we have to make sure that they all actually go. I was thinking that if someone unusual entered the fights – someone the people of Megalith have never seen fight before – we’re much more likely to draw them all to the Coliseum for their bets. Someone, like, say… one of the famous savage warriors of the forbidden North! No one here has ever seen such a thing.” She gestured to him with a grand flourish, as if she were one of the arena barkers. “The city will flock to the fights.”

He frowned. “You want me to enter into the gladiator fights? Those games disgust me.”

The Weaver rolled her eyes. “Yes, you’re obviously so averse to harming anyone,” she said, pointing to Kest, the wooden cup still in hand. A bit of water spilled as she gestured.

“That was different,” Gamarron protested. “Spilling blood for entertainment goes against all the teachings of the koda.”

The rail-thin woman considered this. “Then don’t think of it that way,” she suggested. “You’re acting. Putting on a role. It’s a disguise you’ll use to make sure we are able to free the magic man.”

He rubbed at his eyes wearily. “Please don’t call him a magic man.”

She came back to him, using her height to loom over his seated position. She likes any kind of dominance she can get. “It’s a wild, weird world we live in, and power exists wherever you find it. Doesn’t matter whether you call it magic or something else; we find power and we use it. How else did you think you were going to defeat this horrible thing you’re fighting?”

He was taken aback. She was not wrong. “Yes, all right. Please continue.”

“Having you in the arena will get the lordlings and their retinues out of the way, though we’ll still have to deal with the guards that will be posted at the residence. Which we still have to find, by the way. I’m hoping your man Kojan will take care of that for us.” She tapped her thin lips with the wooden water cup, deep in thought. She thinks quickly and clearly. A formidable woman.

“I could disable four men at a private residence without difficulty,” he offered. “That seems like a more useful place for me to be.” Not in the arena. Thousands of screaming Mainlanders lusting for blood.

She shook her head. “No, any fighting will put our man on edge. He could kill us all before we even opened the door. We have to be quiet, unobtrusive. It would be best if he were asleep when we came in.”

“I can be quiet,” Gamarron murmured. She was right, though. Getting the chaos wielder to come with them without a fight was a thorny problem. And why must he come? I had no idea the man existed until tonight, and I’m overthrowing half of my plans just to grab him. This is insanity. Yet he was certain that his people were doomed without the chaos wielder. He tried to examine that idea – there was something there – but his ever-present impatience surged, scattering his thoughts. Renna was speaking.

“…we send the young ones. They’ll get it done, and I think I can whip up something to help them. Might be time to use a special little trick of mine I’ve been saving.” She gestured to the prone Beast Rider. “I think you’ll find him amenable to whatever you ask at this point.”

Gamarron grimaced but did not disagree.

“I, on the other hand, am very much not,” objected Nira from her seat in the corner. “Sending me in to deal with a bunch of big men with weapons? How am I supposed to do that?” She gestured to herself, short, slender, and unimposing.

Renna smiled nastily. “By being their whore.”

Nira’s eyes went wide. “What?”

Then both the windows burst in.

Two warriors in dark brown crashed through and landed lightly in the room. Each one bore wooden stabbing claws and had dark cloths wound around their noses and mouths, giving them a sinister appearance. They wore yellow sashes at the waist. Nira barely had time to scream before the door flew open and two more fighters dressed like the others barreled in.

Gamarron knew that if he did not move, they would all be dead in moments. There was no time for weakness. He set his heart to three beats per breath, hardened the flesh over his knuckles, and cleared his mind. The muscle of his heart felt strange, its flow of blood strangely thin. That was a concern for later. The assassins had zeroed in on Nira and Renna. He flowed into motion, hoping his legs didn’t give out on him.

Nira first. A Hand of Gaia would certainly have a trick or two to defend herself, but the young