“Father.” Jirina choked back her fury. “Please.”
“When you put on that uniform,” Kudro said, his voice low and dangerous, “you agreed to live as a Coppercoat and be bound by the same rules as everyone else. I may…indulge you, from time to time, but I will not have you questioning my orders. Is that understood?”
There was a long silence.
“Yes, sir.” Jirina straightened up and saluted. “I understand.”
“Good.” Kudro looked past her. “In recognition of your…difficult position, I am granting you the rest of the afternoon off from your duties. Get some rest.”
“And Captain Lukka?”
“Captain Lukka is no longer your concern,” General Kudro said. “Nor will he be, until I am absolutely certain he poses no danger to the city under my protection.”
“Understood. Sir.”
Jirina turned away, mind whirling. Captain Lukka is no longer your concern. If he had Lukka arrested, that would mean a trial and a public verdict. A detention notice meant something else, that the General wanted Internal Security to make a problem disappear.
He’ll kill him, and he’ll tell me it’s for the good of the city.
She left the office, ignoring Colonel Bryd, and headed for the stairs.
***
Someone followed her. Jirina didn’t know if that was her father’s orders or Bryd’s. More likely the latter, she thought—Bryd had never liked her, thought she threatened his position as second-in-command of the Coppercoats. He would be eager to catch her violating orders.
Not that Jirina intended to give him a chance to do that. The man he’d put on her was an Internal Security ranker, and his pursuit was artless. It was easy enough to make a turn down a hallway, then duck into a connecting room and double back behind him. A quick, silent sprint up a flight of steps and she’d left her watcher behind.
Then she headed for the infirmary, using every trick and shortcut she knew. It would take time for her father to dictate his orders, time for him to send some adjutant to get an Internal Security detail, time for them to get to Lukka’s sickroom.
I will not let him die. Not for this. There had to be another way. Whatever this…thing was, this connection between him and the monster, there had to be something deeper behind it. All I need is enough time to figure it out.
Unfortunately, General Kudro was a man who liked to move quickly. If he thought Lukka needed to be disposed of, he would do so as soon as possible.
Which means Lukka needs to disappear.
It was a risk, obviously. But she didn’t think her father would turn on her, for all his grim bluster. Deal with that later. First things first.
She was running now, decorum be damned, pounding down the hallway to the sickroom door. When she reached it and wrenched it open, she found Lukka still alone. Thank the gods. He was sitting up, and at the sight of her he rolled out of his sickbed and staggered to his feet.
“Jirina, are you all right?” He stumbled, steadied himself on the wall.
“Can you walk?” she said. If he can’t, this is going to be a very short escape.
“I’m fine.” Lukka straightened up. “Just a little dizzy. It’s passing. Jirina, what is going on?”
She swallowed. “My father is going to have you executed.”
“What?” Lukka swayed, as though she’d slapped him. “That’s—let me talk to him.”
“There’s no time,” Jirina said. “We’re getting you out of here.”
“We’re–” Lukka blinked. “That’s crazy. I haven’t done anything wrong.”
“I know, Lukka!” Jirina leaned in and kissed him desperately. “I believe you. But father’s running scared.” She pulled back but kept her hand on his. “We just need to buy you some time. I can talk father down, I’m certain of it.”
Lukka stared at her for a moment. His features hardened, slipping back into his role of captain of the Specials, sorting plans and contingencies.
“What about you?” he said. “If I escape now, he’ll know you helped me.
“I have an idea.” Jirina drew her knife from its sheath at her belt. “Just follow my lead.”
***
“Let me go!”
Jirina’s performance was very convincing, to the point where Lukka found it difficult to go along with the charade. He held the woman he loved tight against him with one arm, while holding her own knife against her throat with his free hand. Step by careful step, they descended the main stairs, headed for the ground floor of the infirmary.
“Get out of my way,” Lukka growled at the Internal Security squad on the landing in front of him. “You know who this is?”
“Let go of me!” Jirina shouted. “Lukka, you treasonous dung scorpion!”
Behind her back, where no one could see, her hand squeezed his a little tighter. Lukka took comfort from that and tried to put every ounce of viciousness he could muster into his voice.
“I’ll kill her,” he said. “Get out of my way.”
The Internal Security sergeant barked an order, and the squad scattered. Lukka continued down the stairs, past the landing, and through the swinging doors that led to the kitchens. More Internal Security soldiers were waiting there, but they stayed well back, with the terrified servants clustered behind them. Past the big tables full of half-butchered game and the pots of bubbling soup on the cookfire, another door beckoned, leading out into the kitchen garden. Nearly there.
“Stay back,” Lukka said, turning slowly so he was backing out the door with Jirina in front of him. “Back!”
“Captain,” one sergeant ventured. “Let her go, and we can talk–”
Jirina gave a squeak, as though Lukka had pressed the knife closer. Lukka’s heart flopped in his chest, but he kept his expression fierce. “Back!”
They were at the door. Behind them, the garden was clear, though it wouldn’t be for long.
If this doesn’t convince the General, I don’t know what will. Later, Jirina had promised, she would reveal the ruse and reassure Kudro that she’d never been in any danger. Until then, though, he’s going to be mad as hells. All the more reason to get away.
Lukka bumped the door open behind him and backed through. Jirina squeezed his hand again, and he squeezed back.
“No one follow me!” he barked, for the look of the thing. Small chance of that.
Then he pulled the knife away, shoved Jirina at the small of her back to send her stumbling forward, and ran for it.
***
The way out Jirina had explained was not one that would have ever occurred to Lukka.
He’d always come to the Citadel through its front entrance, massive doors that were only closed in times of extreme danger, guarded by a picked detail of Coppercoats. He’d known there were other ways in, but only in the same vague way that he was aware someone had to cook the meals and do the laundry.
Jirina, though, had been a girl in the Citadel, and she’d explored it with a child’s thoroughness. The kitchen gardens, she explained, were surrounded by a low wall, and directly abutted a whole district of close-packed slums where the servants of Drannith’s military elite lived. Following her instructions, Lukka ran through the waving stalks of sweet-smelling herbs, leapt up to grab the top of the stone wall at the far end of the garden, and rolled over it.
On the other side was a narrow alley, crisscrossed with clotheslines colorful with drying laundry. Damp shirts and dresses grabbed at Lukka as he descended, absorbed the short fall with a crouch, and tried to get his bearing. Small wooden buildings, each hard up against the next, lined both sides of the street, whitewash peeling on their facades. A group of about a dozen children stared at him in awe, their ball-game forgotten. He saw other eyes watching from curtained windows all down the street.
“Hey,” Lukka said to the tallest of the kids, a gangly girl with ma
tted, grimy hair. “Which way to Third Boulevard?”
She pointed, wordlessly. Lukka grinned at her and broke into a jog.
He’d dressed in his uniform, still soiled from the mission but better than hospital whites. Once he got clear of the immediate vicinity of the Citadel, he had some hope he’d be able to bluff any soldiers he encountered. How quickly is the General going to spread the word that the commander of the First Specials has gone rogue?
Alley fed into alley, and soon Lukka could see the larger buildings lining the Third Boulevard, one of the elevated highways that radiated out from the Citadel to all points of the compass. A switchbacking stairway, topped by a crystal warning tower, led up to the road, but Lukka stopped a block away. There was movement on the highway, lots of movement—soldiers, coats flapping, hurrying out by squads.
Either some monster has chosen this moment to attack the city—and he couldn’t believe he’d have that kind of luck—or else the General really has gone paranoid. Tracking down Lukka didn’t justify turning out half the garrison, but here were the Coppercoats, streaming along the highway in a major mobilization. And if they’re here, they’re going to be everywhere.
Lukka pulled back, into the shadow of an alley.
This may be harder than I thought.
***
Over the course of the next few hours, he made a number of decisions.
Jirina had intended for him to hide somewhere in the city. It had been a good idea, to find some anonymous flophouse where he could lay low for a while, but she’d underestimated the scale of her father’s response. There were Coppercoats everywhere, not just Internal Security but regular troops, sweeping the main highways and establishing checkpoints at major intersections. If they were going that far, there was nowhere in the city that would be safe enough, and in any event Lukka had spent hardly any time in Drannith over the past few years. He had little idea who would be safe to trust.
Outside the wall, on the other hand, matters would be different. He had contacts, men and women the First Specials had helped, who he thought would help him no matter what they’d heard from the Citadel. He knew the ground, could hide in the forest if he had to, take to the places others avoided because they were worried about lurking monsters. The irony of his life was that, after two decades defending his city, he knew the monster-haunted wilderness better than the place he was fighting for.
Getting beyond the wall was easier said than done, however. He’d hoped to beat the news of his flight, but cut off from the highways, he’d been forced to take the long way around, working through alleys and side streets toward the edge of Drannith. Couriers moved back and forth on the elevated roads, and no doubt the entire garrison had been put on alert by now.
He’d aimed for one of the small western gates, where there wouldn’t be much civilian traffic. It had seemed like a good idea at the time—the watch on those gates was usually smaller and less attentive—but now that he was here, crouched behind a wagon a block or so from the wall, it was starting to seem like a bad idea. At a larger gate, he might have tried to blend in, gotten rid of his uniform and hoped to hide among the stream of merchants that were always coming and going. Here, though there were only a half-dozen soldiers watching the postern-sized entrance, there was no chance they’d miss him.
He had his sword, of course, and he doubted the kind of recruits and old-timers who were assigned to guard duty would be much of a match for a captain of the Specials. But that would mean drawing blood against his fellow Coppercoats, and Lukka wasn’t sure he could do it. Besides, it would only make it harder to come back. Up until now, he’d only threatened Jirina and run away—hopefully not unforgivable crimes, once she explained. If I kill anybody, though… It hardly mattered. I can’t kill some kid in her first year of service just for obeying her lawful orders.
So stealth was out, and fighting was out. That left a bluff and hoping like hells that these soldiers hadn’t paid close attention to their new orders. Lukka rubbed a knuckle on the hilt of his sword, straightened his cloak, and tried to stroll toward the gate as though he didn’t have a care in the world.
As he’d expected, the half-squad on duty was a mix of kids and old-timers. There was an old sergeant, a man with a bushy salt-and-pepper mustache and a shiny bald spot, with an older woman as his corporal and four teens in badly-fitted armor. At the sight of Lukka’s insignia, they all straightened up and saluted, fists thumping against their armor.
“Afternoon, sergeant,” Lukka said, with a genial nod. “Keep up the good work.”
“Yes, sir!” the man said. “Thank you, sir.”
Lukka passed through the gate, and into a small copse of trees growing against the city wall. For a moment, he thought it was going to be that simple, but the corporal had bent toward one of the kids, who was pointing and whispering urgently. Lukka caught the words “Specials” and “orders.”
“Sir.” The corporal and two of the kids hurried through the gate and stepped in front of him, blocking his path. She looked apologetic. “May I see your identification?”
“Is that necessary?” Lukka said, trying to look perplexed. “I didn’t think we were worried about people sneaking out of the city.”
“We’ve received new orders,” the corporal said. “A captain in the Specials has turned traitor. He nearly killed the General’s daughter.”
“I’m sure it’ll turn out to be a misunderstanding,” the sergeant said, moving to Lukka’s side with the other two rankers behind him. “But orders are orders. Your identification, please.”
“I don’t think…” Lukka patted his pockets, lamely, trying to think.
“That’s him!” One of the kids, a gawky boy who looked like he was wearing his father’s armor, suddenly pointed. “Captain Lukka! I saw him at a review last year.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.” Lukka shifted position, trying to keep any of them from getting behind him. “My name is Brez.”
“Then you won’t mind proving it?” the sergeant said. “Otherwise, sir, I’m going to have to place you under arrest.”
Lukka hardened his voice. “Stand down and let me pass, sergeant. That’s an order. This is Specials business. You don’t know what you’re interfering with.”
The sergeant set his jaw and drew his sword. The corporal did likewise, and then all four of the rankers. They moved to flank Lukka, and he retreated until his back was to the nearest tree.
“Put down your weapon, sir,” the sergeant said. “And we’ll escort you to the Citadel.”
“I don’t think I can do that, sergeant.” Lukka put his hand on his own sword. “I don’t want to hurt any of you.”
I can’t. Two old veterans and a bunch of pimply teens. What the hells am I supposed to do now?
They stepped forward. The boy in the too-large armor’s hand was shaking, making his sword-point waver.
If I run… Would they really stab him in the back in cold blood? He evaluated the look on the sergeant’s face. Probably. But–
Something planted itself in the dirt between him and the sergeant with a hiss and a thunk. It was an arrow, from a hunter’s longbow rather than a military crossbow, its fletching still quivering. Just as Lukka and the sergeant turned to look for the shooter, green energy burst out from where the arrow had stuck, a whirl of translucent motes that shifted and settled into the form of–
An elk?
Something like an elk, anyway. It was larger than any elk Lukka knew, and bulkier, but with the same general proportions and the same large rack of antlers. The animal was composed entirely of translucent green light, with the guards clearly visible through its body, shimmers of energy swirling constantly on its flanks. It snorted, one paw stamping at the dirt.
What the hells?
The guards were backing away, the kids looking to the sergeant. He blew out through his mustache and brandished his sword.
“Captain, dismiss this magic at once or–”
The elk charged him, antlers lowered. The sergeant shrieked and dove to one side, dropping his sword, and the creature swung its head and swatted him on the rear end as it passed, sending him rolling into the dirt. One of the kids swung wildly at the thing as it went by, her sword tearing a long line of green sparks down its flank. The elk whirled, furious, and she squeaked and ran for it.
The corporal bellowed something about holding firm, but another arrow hissed out of the dark and struck the ground behind her. More green sparks gouted forth, shaping themselves into the largest pig Lukka had ever seen, bristling with stiff fur and thick with muscle. It charged the corporal with a wild squeal, bowling her over and clambering onto her back in triumph. Another of the young soldiers moved to help, only to retreat as the elk reared and tossed its antlers.
“This way!” a woman called. The voice, like the arrows, came from deeper in the trees.
Gods, what now?
On the one hand, Lukka had no idea what was going on or who was trying to help him. On the other hand, he was being offered a chance to get away from the city without having to kill anyone. Under the circumstances, better not look a gift horse in the mouth. Or a gift elk.
“Sorry!” he called to the prone sergeant as he darted past.
The elk brayed triumphantly, forming a strange duet with the pig’s ecstatic squealing. Lukka left them—and the city of Drannith—behind, heading for the woods and the cloaked figure waiting in their shadows.
Chapter Three
Jirina could feel the eyes on her all the way to her father’s office door.
Officially, the Coppercoats had said nothing about what had happened, which only made things worse. Rumors had spread through the Citadel—and then the city—like fire ripping through dry grass, and at every step they got more exaggerated and spectacular. Jirina had no doubt people were now telling each other that Lukka had slaughtered a company of elite guards on his way out, escaping only after an epic fight with the General himself.
She had no idea what they were saying, actually, because she was the one person no one would talk to about any of it. They just looked at her, then guiltily looked away when she caught them staring. Jirina was used to being watched—growing up as the General’s daughter meant her life had been lived in the public eye—but this was something else entirely. And now the summons she’d been waiting for, to attend on her father.
Ikoria Page 4
