Luck in the Shadows

by Lynn Flewelling

  “Perhaps you should have gone.”

  “Oh, they’ll be all right.” Micum shifted to hold her closer. “It’s just strange that Nysander hasn’t sent word.”

  “Then send a message down to him. One of the lads could have it there before noon.”

  “I suppose.”

  “I don’t know why you’re so worried. It’s not as if Seregil hasn’t done this sort of thing before. And two days is no time at all.”

  Micum frowned up at the candle shadows overhead. “All the same, Alec’s so new at these things—”

  “Then send word to Nysander. I don’t need you moping around like an old dog again tomorrow.” Kari kissed him roughly on the chin. “Better yet, go yourself. You’ll fidget me to distraction waiting about for it. You can visit Beka while you’re there.”

  “That’s a thought. She must be missing home a bit by now. But will you be all right without me?”

  “Of course I will!” scoffed Kari. “You’ll only be a few hours away, and I’ve all my women to look after me. Go to sleep, love. I expect you’ll want to get an early start.”

  Feeling a bit guilty, Micum bypassed the Horse Guard barracks and went straight to the Orëska House. Crossing the atrium, he heard a familiar voice hailing him and turned to find Nysander and Thero striding toward him. Both were clad in stained riding clothes and boots.

  “Why, good morning to you!” Nysander called. “What brings you into the city so early in the day?”

  Micum’s heart sank. “Didn’t Seregil and Alec tell you?”

  “We’ve been away,” Thero told him. “We’re just getting back now.”

  “Indeed,” said Nysander, frowning. “I have not heard from either of them since they left for Cirna.”

  “That little bastard!” growled Micum. “He promised me he’d talk to you before they went. I’d never have let them go off like that if I’d known.”

  “What has happened?”

  “He and Alec came back a couple of days ago with evidence linking Kassarie to the stolen gold. They’d been attacked on their way back from Cirna and they’re convinced that was her doing, too. Seregil was all in a lather to go after her but he said he’d talk to you first.”

  “Perhaps he left word. Thero, go find Wethis, please. He would be the one Seregil would trust with a message. Come up to my tower, Micum.

  “I am not certain I understand your concern,” the wizard continued as they climbed the stairs. “Two days is not long for such work and I am certain I should have sensed if either of them had come to any great harm.”

  “Maybe so,” Micum grudgingly agreed. “I guess I’m mostly feeling guilty about not going along with them, but Kari’s pregnant again and I hated to leave her.”

  Thero hurried in with a rolled parchment. “They were here, and they left this for you.”

  Nysander unrolled the manifest and a terse scrawl from Seregil, explaining its significance.

  “Well, he was obviously in a hurry to follow this lead,” he said. “I will scry for them.”

  Seating himself at his desk, Nysander covered his eyes with both hands, murmuring the complex spell. After a moment he sat back. “It is difficult to get an exact sighting on them, but all appears to be well. Would you like to stay here for a few days, see if they turn up?”

  “I think maybe I will. You’d better send a message out to Kari for me, though. And keep a weather eye on her, too, while you’re at it. I’m off to see Beka now. Her mother’s worried she might be homesick.”

  38

  THE KEY TO A POOR GIRL’S HEART

  For three days Alec and Seregil kept their cold vigil and at last their patience was rewarded. On watch in the fir tree early the third afternoon, Alec saw Stamie emerge though the postern with a large basket on her back and set off into the woods.

  Seregil was napping at the base of the tree. Climbing down, Alec woke him and together they hurried off through the trees to strike the path ahead of the girl.

  Seregil remained out of sight among the trees while Alec took up his position on a log near a bend in the trail. In the distance they could hear the girl singing to herself as she approached.

  She caught sight of Alec ahead of her and halted abruptly. “Who’s that there, and what do you want?” she called sharply.

  “It’s Elrid. Remember me?” Alec stood up slowly, praying he didn’t sound as awkward as he suddenly felt. “I came looking for Lord Teukros a few days back?”

  “Oh, the messenger boy from the city.” Curious but still on her guard, she stood where she was. “What are you doing back here again? And why are you lurking out here in the forest?”

  “You said you wanted a position in the city,” Alec replied. “I heard of one—a good one—and come out to tell you. Your aunt didn’t strike me as the welcoming sort, though, so I’ve been waiting out here for a chance alone with you.”

  Seeing that she softened considerably at this, he added, “It was cold last night. I couldn’t get a fire started.”

  “You poor, simple thing!” Dropping her basket, Stamie hurried forward to chaff his hands between her own. “You’re all ice! Don’t they teach you nothin’ in that city of yours? Imagine being outside on such a night and the stars as sharp as daggers! You’ll catch the frostbite.”

  A patchy flush colored her angular cheeks as she looked up, still holding his hands firmly between her own. “And you came all the way out here for me?”

  “I got to thinking about what you said and how lonesome it must be for you out here, and well—” Alec shrugged, feigning shyness to avoid her worshipful gaze. Lying to innkeepers and fat nobles was one thing; deceiving this plain, kind, desperate girl was quite another. Side-stepping his conscience as best he could, he pressed on, carefully doling out the tale he and Seregil had concocted.

  “There’s a seamstress in the next street from ours wanting a girl to apprentice. It’s clean work, and it would get you out of the kitchen.” He paused meaningfully. “And it’s just in the next street over from mine.”

  “Is it?” Stamie smiled knowingly. “I’ve no complaint with that. Do you have a horse? Let’s go before I’m missed.”

  “We can’t go now!” So much for charming her away, thought Alec. The trick was going to be holding her back long enough to get into the keep.

  “Why not?”

  “Well—” Alec scrambled for a plausible impediment. “You’ll need to gather your things up and give your notice.”

  “Notice? As if they’d let me go! I’ve been a slave to them since I was old enough to carry a pan. Just let me nip back and fill a kerchief, then we can slip away tonight!”

  Outflanked, Alec had to rethink his strategy again.

  “Two servants traveling in the night?” he scoffed. “The patrols would take us for thieves or runaways before we ever reached the city. And that’s if the real outlaws and night riders didn’t get to us first. You don’t want to end up dead in the ditch, do you? Or worse?”

  Stamie’s eyes widened in alarm. “No, but how do we get away, then? They’ll never let me go, not Aunt or Illester or any of them.”

  “They won’t know.” Alec slipped an arm around her waist and walked her deeper into the forest. “It’s simple enough to manage. You wait until everyone’s asleep, then gather your things up and wait until just before dawn. That’s the time to travel. Anyone we meet on the road at first light will think we’re off to market. Do you see?”

  “Oh, yes! I’ll do it just as you say. And I’m ever so grateful!”

  Turning, she pulled him close with surprising decisiveness and delivered a rough, tooth-knocking kiss. Lips still locked against his, she drew his hand up against her flat bosom with one hand and began rucking up her homespun skirt with the other.

  “Here now, there’s no time for that,” Alec gasped, trying to pull away. She’d been chewing raw garlic to keep away the winter ague.

  “It don’t take long.” Stamie giggled, reaching for the hem of his tunic.
/>   Freeing himself with an effort, Alec held her at arm’s length. “Hold off, can’t you?”

  “What’s the matter with you?” the girl demanded indignantly. “One minute you’re all sweetness, and the next you act like you don’t want me.”

  “Of course I do,” Alec assured her. “But not if it means you getting in trouble. If you don’t get back with the kindling or whatever it is you were sent out for, they’ll come looking for you, won’t they? Or maybe lock you up when you get back?”

  “They would, too,” Stamie said resentfully. “They done it before.”

  “Course they would,” Alec said, loosening his grip to a caress. “And then where would we be, eh? But if we’re careful, we can be in Rhíminee tomorrow night. Together.”

  “Together!” Stamie whispered, won over anew.

  “That’s right. Now come on and I’ll help you.”

  Keeping out of sight of the tower sentries, they gathered sticks to fill Stamie’s basket. The excited girl chattered readily, and Alec soon turned the conversation to the broken tower.

  The tower over the gorge had been in ruins for years, it seemed, though she didn’t know how long. No one was allowed there ever, and old Illester said there was even a ghost, some lord who’d been in the tower when it was struck.

  “They say he’ll push you off to your death if you go up there at night,” she confided with a delicious shiver. “And it’s true, too. Lots of servants have heard strange sounds from there, and seen lights moving. Aunt says a servant she knew went in once, just a little ways, and felt the touch of a dead hand against his face. He didn’t die of it then, but within the week he fell into the gorge and was smashed to bits! Aunt saw him after they carried him up. Ghosts are unlucky things, you know, even just to see one.”

  “I’ve heard that,” Alec replied uneasily, recalling the strange breeze he’d felt in the main hall.

  The basket was soon full. Giving Alec a farewell kiss, she ran her hands down over his hips and whispered, “I won’t sleep a wink tonight, I promise!”

  “Nor will I.” Ready to spring the final ruse, Alec cast a yearning look toward the keep and sighed deeply. “It’ll be cold out here again tonight.”

  “Oh, you poor dear! And it looking like to snow, too.”

  Alec held his breath, watching her waver. Let her think of it first, Seregil had warned.

  “It’d be worth both our skins if we was caught.” She hesitated, frowning. “But I could creep down and let you in after they’re all asleep. If you stayed in the back pantry and didn’t make a sound, it might be safe.”

  “What about the watchmen?”

  “They mostly keep an eye on the road. And this side of the yard is good and dark. Oh, but we’ll have to be quiet, though!”

  “Quiet as ghosts.” Alec smiled as he took her hand in his. “Just a warm corner out of the wind, that’s all I need.”

  “I wish I could warm you tonight,” she murmured.

  “Soon,” he promised. “In Rhíminee.”

  “In Rhíminee!” she sighed. Breathing garlic against his cheek, she kissed him a last time and hurried off.

  Alec waited until she was well out of sight, then turned to retrace his steps into the woods. Coming around a fallen tree, he nearly stepped on Seregil.

  “Lucky for us she’s a lonesome country girl,” Seregil said, shaking his head. “A Helm Street maid would’ve given you the air. ‘Here now, there’s no time for that!’ and ‘Hold off, can’t you?’ A fine, hot suitor you sounded!”

  “I told you I’m no good at it,” Alec retorted, stung by the criticism. “Besides, it felt rotten lying to her like that.”

  “This is no time for an attack of conscience. Illior’s Hands, haven’t we lied to someone on any job we’ve ever done?”

  “I know,” Alec grumbled. “But this was different. She’s not some footpad or randy ship’s captain, just a poor nobody like me. Here I am offering her the one thing in the whole world she wants, and tomorrow all her hopes will be dashed.”

  “Who says we have to dash her hopes? She wants a position in town; I’ll see she gets one.”

  “You’d do that?”

  “Of course I’d do that. I forge a lovely reference. She can have her pick of situations. Think you can live with that?”

  Alec nodded, abashed. “I guess I just didn’t—”

  “Come to think of it, perhaps we could take her on at Wheel Street,” Seregil added ruthlessly. “What with you taking such an interest in her welfare and all.”

  “That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

  “No?” Grinning, Seregil threw an arm over the boy’s shoulders as they headed back up the slope. “Now there’s a surprise!”

  39

  THE TOWER

  Alec crouched in the shadows near the postern gate, watching the sky. The stars had wheeled to midnight. It hadn’t snowed after all. Instead, the skies had cleared at sunset and the temperature had dropped bitterly. Without a fire, or Seregil to share warmth with, as they’d had to the past few days, he was chilled to the bone. And worried.

  The lights in the keep had gone out ages ago and he was beginning to worry that she’d either been caught, or was too scared to come for him. Or had gone to sleep in a warm bed and forgotten her promise to come for him.

  But he held his position and finally heard the soft patter of footsteps somewhere beyond the wall. A moment later Stamie inched the postern door open and waved him in. Moving with exaggerated caution, she led him in through the kitchen to a dark pantry.

  “I’ll come down again before the others wake,” she whispered ecstatically, pressing his hand to the bosom of her shift. “Oh, I can’t wait to be free of this place!”

  Alec felt ribs jutting beneath the coarse fabric, and the rapid tripping of her heart. Determined to play his role better, he took her in his arms. Kissing her just below the left ear, he whispered an endearment Seregil had suggested. The girl gave a happy shiver and pressed closer.

  “Where’s your room?” he whispered.

  She giggled softly. “In the servant’s attic, you naughty pup! I sleep on a pallet at the foot of Aunt’s bed.”

  “Have you a window to watch the sky?”

  “There’s a dormer just over me. I’ll prop the shutter open.”

  “Come to me when the stars begin to fade.”

  “When the stars fade,” the girl breathed. Giving him a last squeeze, she hurried off.

  Alec stayed put for a time, fearing she’d find some pretense to come back. The wait was hardly an onerous one; after two days without a fire, even the warmth of a banked hearth was something to be grateful for. The pantry also smelled wonderfully of smoked meats. It was too dark to see, but his groping hand soon found a rope of hard sausage.

  Creeping out at last, he spied a long shawl hanging on a peg by the kitchen door. Throwing it on for a bit of extra camouflage, he tiptoed out to the postern and unbolted it. Seregil slipped in with their swords and Alec bolted the door after him.

  Safely in the kitchen, Seregil eyed Alec’s makeshift disguise and wrinkled his nose. “You been eating garlic, gramma?”

  “There’s a nice bit of sausage, if you want some.” Alec offered, returning the shawl to its peg.

  “Take off your boots,” whispered Seregil. “Bare feet are quietest for this sort of work. Don’t forget your dagger, though. We may need it.”

  Leaving their boots out of sight behind a row of cider casks, they padded off in the direction of the main hall.

  All the stairways of the keep were contained in the towers, so as to be easily defensible in case of attack. It was the southeast tower they wanted, and they soon found a narrow passageway leading in that direction.

  An archway at the far end let into a small antechamber. Using a shielded lightstone, they found a heavy oak door at the back of it. Seregil lifted the latch ring and eased it open.

  Inside, they found a small, windowless landing. The back portion of the tiny chamber and
what must have been the stairwell were completely blocked by broken stone and dusty, shattered timbers.

  Alec took a step in, then froze in terror as a light, eerie caress stroked along his cheek. The touch came again, accompanied this time by a low moan and a chill draft of air.

  “The ghost!” Alec’s voice came out a strangled whisper.

  “Ghost, eh?” Seregil waved his hand in the air above his head, then held it to the lightstone for Alec to see. Long black filaments, fine as spider web, hung tangled from his fingers.

  “There’s your ghost—black silk combed fine and hung in a draft. As soon as I heard Stamie’s tale of ghostly touches I suspected as much.”

  “But the cold draft?”

  “We’re in the stronghold of master masons, Alec. There are tiny air channels somewhere in the walls here. They let in drafts from outside and those mysterious moans are the sound of it. We’ll need to be very careful here.”

  “What about magic?”

  “That’s one thing we probably don’t have to worry about. If Kassarie’s really a Leran, then she’d never stoop to using the unnatural methods of the hated Aurënfaie. But there will be traps, killing traps, and we’d damn well better not get cocky.”

  A careful search found no sign of any secret openings or traps.

  “Looks like we’ll have to look elsewhere for our entrance,” muttered Seregil.

  “But where?”

  “Upstairs, I think.”

  Alec looked over at the pile of rubble. “How could there be anything above us? Look at this! The whole inside of the tower must have been destroyed.”

  “Yet from the outside it appears that just one side of the top of the tower was broken; it shouldn’t have done this kind of damage.”

  “You mean this mess is just a trick, a fake?”

  “Either that or I’m completely wrong.” Seregil grinned crookedly. “But why leave the tower broken unless there was some reason?”