A Jewel Bright Sea

by Claire O'Dell

  “Good. Then we shall take a longer route. I want to avoid the main squares.”

  He spoke so matter-of-factly. Anna wanted to strike him.

  “Ashamed?” she asked.

  “No. You might be, however.”

  Oh. Damn him. How dare he believe…

  “I did not kill that poor boy,” she said in a low voice.

  His gaze flicked toward her, back to the gates. “Perhaps not. We shall find out, however, who did.”

  “But I tell you—”

  She choked back her protests. If Maszny had trained mages under his command, they could extract the truth as easily as they wished. She would have to confess everything—Lord Brun’s orders, his demand for secrecy, her suspicions about his ambitions. She was innocent of murder, but if the Emperor could execute his own children so easily, why should he spare a minor lord and his underlings?

  The thought made her faint. She leaned against the mare, taking comfort in its warmth, the steady rise and fall of its sides. Noise around her recalled her to her surroundings. Maszny had swung his grey around. Belatedly, she mounted her horse. She was trembling, despite the heat.

  “Frightened?” Maszny said.

  “No,” she lied.

  “What then?”

  “Nothing that concerns you.”

  “Everything about you concerns me,” he said. “We shall discuss how much at the garrison.”

  He spoke quietly, but the threat was obvious.

  I only wanted a pair of rooms. A lock on the door.

  Perhaps the execution would be swift. Perhaps her next life would be different.

  They set off down the lane at a slow walk. Anna rode in the center with Maszny at her side, the other mounted soldiers forming a barricade around them. Maszny rode easily, his hands lightly holding the reins, as though he did not need them. Was there any accomplishment he lacked? Commander. Mage. A skilled swordsman, judging from his callused hands. Clearly a sharp instrument the Emperor wielded in these parts.

  At the main boulevard, ten riders split off toward the harbor district, along with the mule carrying Maté.

  “Where are you taking him?” Anna asked.

  Maszny ignored her. With a hand signal, he ordered the rest of his soldiers—two dozen at least—into a smaller formation. They crossed the boulevard to another side street angling toward the north and east through a district of small shops, many of them shuttered against the late afternoon sun. The man was taking excessive precautions, Anna thought. Did he honestly expect her to break free, in spite of this troop of soldiers, in spite of Maszny himself?

  It was then she understood the situation.

  He’s not afraid of me. He’s afraid of Koszenmarc.

  She almost laughed, which caught Maszny’s attention at once.

  “You’re pleased?” he said dryly.

  “No. I simply realized that you are afraid too, my lord.”

  “I am not afraid. Intrigued is a better word.”

  She shot him a sharp glance, but his expression was grave. “Why?”

  “Because you are the key to a very strange puzzle. Or so I believe.”

  That, she had no answer to. She rode on in uneasy silence, thankful he did not press his point. They had come to a wider section of the street where the shops gave way to apartment buildings, each of these divided by iron gates. Behind them lay kitchen gardens, just visible through the bars, and poultry yards, with chickens and geese and the cries of other birds she could not identify.

  Maszny had just ordered his soldiers into a smaller square when a herd of wild pigs—huge black-bristled monsters—charged through a nearby open gate into the lane. Two riders went down, their horses entangled with the pigs. The next moment, six masked riders galloped into their midst, brandishing clubs. Maszny shouted orders and the soldiers closed ranks against their attackers. Anna fought to keep her own mare under control.

  A dozen more masked riders appeared, brandishing sticks and swords. One of the men flung a small, dark object into the midst of the churning crowd of soldiers. A cold green scent rolled over the square. A bright light exploded. Anna’s mare jerked up in panic, so fast she threw Anna to the ground.

  Anna hit the pavement with a loud smack. For a moment, she could not breathe. Hooves stamped inches from her face. She tucked herself into a ball and squirmed closer to the nearest wall. Her ribs ached with every breath. Oh, how splendid, she thought, trying not to throw up. With one hand pressed against her side, she lurched to her feet.

  “Vrou Iljana.”

  A man, mounted on a rangy horse of indeterminate color, reached down to her. Her vision swam, but she could make out a dull grey tunic. One of the soldiers?

  “Come,” said the man. “Take my hand.”

  She staggered toward him. He grabbed her arm with both hands and hauled her into the saddle before him. A sharp pang shot through her ribs and she choked back a cry. “Ah, you took a heavy fall, Lady Vrou,” the man said. “My apologies. We’ll have you tended to as soon as may be.”

  “Koszenmarc!” Maszny’s shout cut through the din. “What are you thinking?”

  Koszenmarc?

  Anna tried to twist around, but her bruised ribs protested. “You,” she gasped.

  She struggled to break free. The horse danced in protest. Koszenmarc tightened his grip around her waist. “Stop that, Lady Vrou. Unless you want to fall flat on your stubborn face.” He shouted across the square. “My apologies, Hêr Commander! But I cannot stay to explain.”

  He wheeled the horse about, so fast that Anna had to grab the pommel to keep from falling off. The horse leaped between a knot of pigs and another of battling soldiers and masked riders. Then they were free of the confusion, galloping headlong down the lane. Anna had to choke back a scream. It was like her flight with Maté through Iglazi’s back alleys, only atop a monstrous horse. Why, oh why, had she taken his hand?

  The horse soared over a pile of lumber and trash and landed with a bone-rattling thump. Before she could catch her breath, Koszenmarc leaned left and the horse responded, taking the next corner so close, Anna could see the cracks between the stones. The street dropped away, pitching downward in a series of steps.

  Koszenmarc leaned back and the horse slowed, barely. She was certain they would go sprawling and break their heads.

  “You. Won’t. Make. It,” she gasped, hardly able to speak.

  He laughed, but she could hear the breathlessness, and she knew that he wasn’t certain either. “Trust me,” he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

  “Why should I?”

  They charged directly into a crowded market square at the bottom. Shrieking children scattered. Goats bawled as they dodged Koszenmarc’s horse. Somehow, they avoided them all. They veered around a fountain and then into a narrow street slanting up the hillside.

  The street emptied out, with no more than a few men and women carrying market baskets. One girl, scrubbing the doorsteps in front of a shop, glanced up curiously as Koszenmarc brought the horse from a gallop to a walk, but no one else seemed to notice them. When they reached a deserted courtyard, Koszenmarc dismounted and dug through a pair of saddlebags.

  Anna swung a leg over the saddle, ready to jump and run, but he took hold of her ankle and yanked her back into the saddle. “None of that, Lady Vrou,” he said. “I need you to cooperate. If you ever want to see your friend Kovács, that is.”

  She hissed. “You are scum.”

  He seemed amused at the insult. “So they tell me.”

  As he spoke, he pulled off his tunic and boots. The sword slid into a sheath over his back, hidden under the shirt that now billowed around him. Face-to-face he would never deceive anyone, but from a distance, he no longer resembled the pirate captain that had ambushed Maszny and stolen his prisoner.

  “Now for you,” he said. From the sa
me saddlebags, he produced a loose gown and matching scarf. “Put these on and take off your sandals.”

  Anna thrust them back at Koszenmarc. “What about Maté?”

  “Him? Don’t worry.”

  Still she balked. He muttered a curse and seized one foot. Anna kicked at him, causing the horse to jerk its head and sidle away. Koszenmarc was laughing and swearing as he regained control of the reins and brought the horse under control. “Stop arguing. We haven’t much time. And don’t worry about your man. It’s you Maszny wants.”

  “Why? I did not kill that boy.”

  “You idiot. He knows that. Someone wants you and your people dead and dishonored. My money’s on Druss, and I would wager double that Maszny thinks the same. But he wanted an excuse—”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “They’re coming. Tell me now. Will you trust me, or shall I leave you to Hêr Commander?”

  She hesitated just a moment, then kicked off her sandals. Koszenmarc thrust the gown into her hands. It slipped over her head and arms, falling almost to her knees and covering her fine dress better than any cloak. With a few twists, she fastened the scarf over her jeweled and beribboned hair. She felt a pang of dismay at how thoroughly Koszenmarc had planned this rescue. Or kidnapping. From her point of view, there didn’t seem to be much difference.

  I should blind him with magic. Take the horse and gallop far away.

  But where could she hide? And what about Maté?

  Meanwhile, Koszenmarc had stuffed her sandals and his boots into the saddlebags. He swung onto the horse behind Anna and urged the horse into a walk. Slow and easy, she thought. Nothing to attract attention. Leaving the courtyard behind, they entered a narrow street that wound up the hillside. There wasn’t much traffic about. One freight wagon piled high with goods under a canvas sheet. A few scruffy boys and girls playing a fierce game of stick and rag-ball. At one point, Koszenmarc had to dismount and lead the horse up a set of stairs, but no one appeared to notice them.

  “Where are we going?” she demanded.

  “Away,” Koszenmarc said shortly. “Well away.”

  To his ship, she realized. “You won’t make it past the gates.”

  “Possibly.”

  They entered a lane bordered by crooked houses, and behind that the mountainside jutting upward into the thick forest. Below them, the city of Iglazi spread down toward the ocean in steps and terraces and sudden steep slopes, like a multicolored cloth flung upon the mountainside. Beyond lay the limitless ocean.

  Koszenmarc brought the horse to an even slower walk. The streets were empty here, packed dirt trails with the dust rising in the midday heat, with only the occasional dog lying in the shade, or a flicker of motion that could be a cat, or a monkey. Anna did not mistake this slow pace for confidence, however. Koszenmarc held her tight around the waist, and she had not missed how often he glanced from side to side.

  Just as the street angled downhill once more, they came upon a small gate, flanked by half a dozen sentries, most of them lounging around a card game. Anna tensed at once. Koszenmarc said nothing, but he pressed her closer in a gesture that could be reassurance, or a warning.

  One of the sentries scrambled to his feet at their approach, then visibly relaxed. “Oh, heh. Andreas. What news?”

  Koszenmarc grinned and tossed the man a coin. “Nothing much. I found a new friend, though.”

  “She doesn’t look friendly,” said a second soldier. He flung down his cards and ambled toward the gates to open them.

  “That’s why I like her,” Koszenmarc said. “I want a good challenge.”

  The guards laughed. Anna tried to drive her elbow into Koszenmarc’s stomach, but he caught her arm. “No fighting,” he said easily. “Not until we’re in bed.”

  He whistled to the horse and they proceeded forward to the gates. Then Anna heard a shout from the lane behind them. The first guard came alert and peered down the street, past Koszenmarc, while the guard at the gate paused with his hand on the latch. The rest rose to their feet.

  “It’s the commander,” the first one said. “What’s he up to? Andreas, you should know—”

  Koszenmarc whipped a cloth ball from one pocket and threw it to the ground. A stinking cloud exploded between them and the guards, followed by a burst of flames. The horse skittered to one side, but Koszenmarc had a firm hand on the reins. He gave a sharp whistle, and the horse surged toward the gates. The nearest guard tried to pull it closed, but he was too late. The next moment, Anna and Koszenmarc were galloping over a narrow track that snaked between the cliffs and steep mountains above Iglazi.

  Koszenmarc tossed a second rag-ball over his shoulder. Anna did not dare to twist around to see what had happened, but she heard the howls and curses from the soldiers. He threw one last ball, then leaned forward, almost crushing Anna between him and the horse’s neck as they pounded along the trail. She caught glimpses of the city below—the garrison on its point, the harbor speckled with ships, the jewel-bright sea. The rest was a confused blur of mist and trees and the rise and fall of the horse’s neck.

  The thunder of many, many horses sounded behind them. Anna closed her eyes and gripped the horse’s mane. Magic buzzed over her, like the rush of salt water over fire-scorched skin. Koszenmarc was humming a wordless chant. The horse was flying now—or so it seemed—its hooves pounding faster than any horse’s could. Or was it that she had never ridden like this before, heart thumping, not knowing if the next step brought her freedom or death?

  Without warning, they burst into the golden light of the late afternoon sun. A high rock cliff leapt up beside them. On the other side, the forest dropped away, so steep and far, she pressed back against Koszenmarc in sudden fear. He was shaking with laughter and babbling to himself. Almost. Almost. Almost. Almost.

  They rounded the hillside. Below them, the coast curved around from Iglazi’s harbor. Two ships stood close to shore beside a fat arm of sand, little more than small black smudges against the brilliant blue waters.

  “Ready?” he said.

  Anna had time for one glimpse before the ground dropped away. She gulped back a scream.

  Ei rûf ane gôtter. Ei rûf ane strôm. Ei rûf ane...

  They were sliding through loose dirt, catching on roots and vines, then breaking free. Tiny bright birds exploded from the trees before them, screeching. Koszenmarc’s horse scrabbled to keep its footing. It crashed into a thicket of vines, sending a mob of small red monkeys leaping high into tree branches. All around the noise and confusion rippled outward.

  Koszenmarc worked to keep them both in the saddle until the horse regained its footing. Then a deep hooting from the cliffs above caught his attention and his chin jerked up. “Damnation.”

  Anna followed his gaze upward, squinting against the sunlight. Soldiers lined those cliffs. One figure had dismounted to peer over the side. She knew at once the man had to be Maszny.

  Her gaze met his, and his teeth flashed white against his dark face. He turned and spoke to someone behind him.

  “He’s guessing faster than I thought,” Koszenmarc murmured. “You might want to close your eyes again.”

  He shifted his weight. The horse skittered and spun around.

  If the first abrupt descent had frightened her, she had no words for this second one, jolting and tumbling through a dense green ocean of leaves, branches whipping at their faces. With a thump, they landed on another goat track. The horse stumbled, shook its head, then started off at a canter that soon turned into a gallop, but not the impossible headlong rush of before. Anna heard the soldiers calling to one another, but their voices were fainter, and she could almost believe they would escape.

  Almost. Almost. Almost, she chanted, and heard Koszenmarc’s voice a beat behind hers.

  Still galloping, they came to the shore. Ahead lay the two ships. The smaller one had raised its sails and edged toward
the open waters. The second one lay close to shore, beneath a low rise. Gulls and terns veered away, keening angrily. A strong wind blew in from the sea, and she could see the white disc of the sun, streaked and smeared by pale clouds. There was a sharp metallic scent in the air, as though lightning were about to strike.

  The ship wavered by the shore, lurched forward, then began to glide away. More swearing from Koszenmarc. A tremendous commotion off to one side, and a shout that told her Maszny had sent even more soldiers to the shore to cut them off. They would never make it in time.

  But Koszenmarc had not given up. All magic cast aside, he was pleading with his horse. The horse had faltered in the last few moments, but at Koszenmarc’s voice, it gathered itself for one last run, a hard gallop straight for the ship. A bright blue width of water had opened up between the ship and land. Surely Koszenmarc could not expect it to actually—

  The horse reached the cliff well before Maszny’s riders. Without a pause, it leaped.

  CHAPTER 7

  The horse cleared the railing with only inches to spare and continued its charge the length of the deck, the crew scattering to either side and that gods-be-damned Koszenmarc yammering like a daemon from beyond the void. It was the mountainside all over again, except with masts and ropes, and beyond the railing, a ten-foot drop into the sea.

  They rounded the bow, the horse slithering dangerously. Anna was certain they would tumble over the side, but at the last moment, it kicked against the railing. They covered half the length of the ship again before the canter slowed to a lope, then a stumbling walk, then the horse dropped its head and stopped, its sides heaving.

  Anna nearly slid onto the deck. Koszenmarc caught her in time. She choked back a cry when his grip pressed against her sore ribs.

  “My apologies,” he murmured in her ear.

  Her bones were rattled, her nerves undone. Her throat felt raw, as though she had been screaming. She wanted to pummel someone—preferably Koszenmarc—but she did not have the strength to do it.

  By now half a dozen sailors gathered around them. A boy took hold of the horse’s bridle and spoke in a soft wheedling voice, telling the beast how great and wonderful a horse she was. An older girl appeared with a bucket of water and a blanket. She directed a look at Koszenmarc that was one part admiration and two parts impatience.