The younger guard pointed with his sword. "I know your faces!"
The other, an older man with dark hair and a red beard, motioned Raxa toward him. "Are you hurt?"
"I think I am fine," Raxa said. "I walk past the pub, and they come out and they chase me!"
"Animals." He raised his voice at the fleeing men. "And if I see you again, I'll bleed you like a cow!"
"Thank you." Raxa hugged herself. "I think they want to…hurt me."
"It's over now, ma'am. Come on then. Where do you live?"
She was about to name her inn, but was stopped by the flushed, proud look on the guards' faces. They'd just saved the helpless young woman. At that moment, if she'd asked to ride them home like they were horses, they'd beseech her to wait while they found a saddle. She racked her brain for one of the cover stories she'd patched together while contemplating how to get into the palace.
"I have no home," she said. "Not here."
The man made an O of his mouth. "Don't tell me you're sleepin' on the streets. I don't even like to walk them!"
"I come from the north. There, I am of a noble family. But I fall into trouble. I need to speak to the King Charles."
The two watchmen exchanged a look. The younger man gave a slight shake of his head. The red-bearded man pursed his lips and reached for Raxa's arm. "Milday—"
She pulled back. "Please, sir! I cannot be touched. This is the way in my land."
"No harm meant, milady. Follow me and we'll get this all sorted out."
She fell instep beside them. The bearded man asked her a few questions about where she was from and what had happened to her. Raxa allowed him a few details, including a name of Lady Yera, then insisted she could only tell the remainder to a proper authority. The irritable younger guard was visibly relieved when they came to a three-story stone guardhouse.
The red-bearded man brought her upstairs to a sergeant's office. "We're going to go get this sorted out, Lady Yera. You just wait right here."
He gave a short bow and exited. Raxa bolted the door, then shadowalked through the wall and followed the guard downstairs.
"Don't tell me you believe her," the younger guard grumbled. "Did you see her clothes? If she's a princess of some kind, then I'm the Queen of the Horse-People."
The older guard ran his hand down his beard. "I don't know what the hell's going on. When you don't know what the hell's going on, you don't do something about it. You pass it off to somebody to take the blame."
He buttoned his jacket and hustled out the front door. Frowning, Raxa returned to her room and spent a good hour thinking things through. She meant to stay awake and alert—if they came to arrest her, wanted to be able to do something to stop that—but her legs were worn out and her mind was, too. She nodded off in her chair.
A knock on the door jolted her awake. "Lady Yera?" The bearded guard called through the door. "Someone's come for you. Best come downstairs."
The wan light of dawn crept through the shutters. Foggy-headed, Raxa moved to the door. "Who has come?"
The guard didn't answer. Raxa unbolted the door, ready to launch herself into the shadows, but the hallway was empty. She descended to the ground floor. Two men in gold-trimmed blue uniforms were arguing with the watchmen who'd taken her in. A third man bowed to Raxa and showed her outside. There, a black carriage waited in the street, the horses snorting gouts of steam into the crisp morning air.
The guard swung open the carriage door. A middle-aged woman leaned out and beckoned. "This way, Lady Yera. The palace awaits."
18
Vita's sword poked against Dante's doublet. Four burly men piled into the room behind her wearing the orange of House Osedo.
"You think I'm a liar?" Dante said. "A betrayer? Maybe so. But not against you."
She snarled, tensing her elbow to ram the blade home. Dante shifted ever so slightly so the sword would miss his heart.
"We had a deal," she said. "And you cast it aside like an empty bottle. Why shouldn't I do the same with your life?"
Blays wandered forward, swords on his hips. "If you have to ask that sort of thing, you're not really going to kill him. So why don't we skip past the part where you bluster about the thinness of the slices you're going to reduce us to and get to the part where you tell us what this is about?"
"I should tell you of your own schemes? How should I know why your hearts are so black?"
"We don't have any idea what's happening," Dante said. "You could at least have the courtesy of telling us what crime you're accusing us of."
Vita's teeth flashed in anger. "More lies. You lie always. You sprout lies like a body sprouts maggots."
"We've spent the last three months traveling to, cleaning up, and departing from Narashtovik. We haven't spoken to the Colleners since then."
"He's telling the truth," Blays said. "Whatever's happened, we're exactly as dumb as he looks."
Vita's eyes scanned back and forth across Dante's face, as if reading the secrets of each line and tensed muscle. She grunted in annoyance, then spat on her sword—Dante had no idea what the gesture meant—and sheathed it.
"It was the turning of the year," Vita said. "The day after Embersday, Speaker Itiego announced the new taxes. Those of wines for export were doubled. The city of Poloa understood at once: Itiego and the Cavanese were growing jealous of the Poloan industry. Perhaps even threatened.
"Poloa announced that it would not pay. When Cavana boasted that it wouldn't reduce the new taxes, Poloa renounced the confederation. Its neighbor Julina leaped from the ranks as well; Julina had never wanted to join in the first place. There was talk of Poloan ambassadors swaying Hunedo to their side and forming a confederation of their own. If this had happened, many believed it would lead to the collapse of the Confederated Cities of Alebolgia, and Cavana would find itself alone against a powerful new enemy."
"Cavana had a simple play to stop that," Dante said. "Shut Poloa out of the port. If it couldn't export its wines, its strength would collapse in no time."
Vita shook her head, dark eyes somber. "This could not be. For the same reason Speaker Itiego denied your offer: the river of trade must flow. If Itiego had tried to dam the waters, he would have been hung in a cage, and shown what happens when all pleasures stop flowing—especially food and drink."
"So Cavana has to keep trading with Poloa even if they're enemies? What sense does that make?"
"The sense of there being many merchants who continue to wish to profit with Poloa, and who are wise enough to see that if the merchants of Poloa can be forced from the stream, the same could be done to them."
"But what about when they go to war? In that case, they're funding the enemy's troops!"
Vita gave him a scornful look. "If a city declares a Full War on another, then trade can be dammed up without consequence. But the risk and shame of losing trade is why so few cities will risk the Full War. We are not so foolish as you think, Dante. Our system might confuse you, yet it keeps us at peace." She made a small shrug. "Or close to it."
"Much as I love hearing you two debate local politics," Blays said, "weren't you going to tell us why you were going to stab Dante?"
"All of this is the why. After Poloa and Julina renounced their membership in the confederation, Cavana threatened them with the Full War. This made Poloa ring with so much laughter it is said they heard it all the way in Collen. Their laughter ceased when the envoys from Collen arrived—and told them that unless they surrendered, they would be destroyed."
"Don't tell me Poloa fell for that."
She turned a cold eye on Dante. "The Colleners said that if they did not acquiesce, Dante Galand, the avatar of Arawn himself, would slaughter Poloa as ruthlessly as he had twice done to the Mallish in Collen."
"I have good news for Poloa," Blays said. "He's not much of a god. I hear his weakness is being hit by things that are sharp."
"It's too late. Soldiers from Collen and Cavana occupy Poloa now. For the Colleners' aid in maintaining th
e Confederacy, Itiego has promised to close his port to the Mallish." Vita lowered her gaze. "I needed our deal. And your people, they threw it away like the guts of a fish."
Dante ran his hand down his face. "We aren't any happier about this than you are. We'll talk to the Colleners. We'll find a way to make this right."
"You swear to this?"
"I do. And the Colleners are about to hear some swearing of an entirely different kind."
Vita made a slight bow of her head and left, trailed by her guards.
Dante closed the door. "I'm going to wait a few minutes before we pay the Colleners a visit. Otherwise, I might be tempted to introduce them to the window of the nearest tower."
"Pretty cunning move they pulled," Blays said. "If you'd thought of it, you'd be slapping yourself on the back."
Dante muttered something impolite. Ten minutes later, feeling no better about anything, he concluded the only way to be rid of his anger was to vent it at the cause of it. He and Blays strode through the brisk seaside streets to House Itiego, stopping at the manor's gates. A wrought iron albatross looked down at them with a single blue sapphire eye.
As Dante considered the merits of ripping the gates down, a figure emerged from the compound, thigh-high boots clapping on the cobblestones, collar flapping around his shoulders like boneless wings.
"High Priest Galand!" Gareno called. "Or is it Divine Lord Galand, Avatar of the Celeset? You must pardon my vulgar ignorance, sir, for I have no experience treating with deities."
"Shut up," Dante said. "Where are the Colleners?"
"Why, they remain the welcome guests of Lord Itiego. I am sure they would be overjoyed to share their luncheon with you."
"I can't think of anything I'd like more."
Gareno smiled happily and opened the gates, leading them to the same vaulted hall where they'd first met with Itiego. The Keeper sat alone at the main table. At a side table, several other blond Colleners stopped their conversation to stare at Dante and Blays.
The Keeper regarded them with her washed-out blue eyes. As Dante approached, she braced her gnarled hands on her thighs, arms quivering.
"No need to stand," Dante said. "I know how your knees bother you."
"I heard you were on your way." Within the stone walls of the sparse chamber, her voice threatened to boom like surf. "Did you achieve what was needed in your home city?"
"Do you actually care in the slightest?"
"Why would you ask such a question?"
"Because you don't seem to have cared about fulfilling our deal with House Osedo."
The old woman's wrinkled face didn't so much as flinch. "You heard about our change in fortune."
"I heard you threatened an entire city with annihilation—using me as the weapon."
"Opportunity presented itself. If we had waited until you returned to discuss the matter with you, that opportunity would have evaporated."
"There was no need to seize it at all. We had another way to close off the port!"
"And there was another way to deal with Senator Alder of Kaline," she said. "Yet you chose the method that would guarantee your course forward."
"There was no guarantee Poloa wouldn't call your bluff! What then?"
"What does it matter? We did as was needed to obtain everything that we needed. Our work is finished."
He jabbed a finger at her chest. "What you've done has sacrificed my city's future relations with Poloa and damaged my reputation with everyone else. Worse yet, you used me. Again."
She chuckled dryly. "It is easy for you to criticize our decision. It wasn't your land that sat with its flank exposed. There was no guarantee your gambit here would succeed, or that it would have been honored by the other party."
"We knew exactly how to get it done. As for the other party, at this point, I trust them more than I do you."
"I did what was necessary to secure the safety of the people I am sworn to serve. I won't apologize for saving them."
"I know," Dante said. "And I know you're happy to sacrifice us for them. You may have gained your security. But you've lost a friend."
The Keeper blinked. "What will you do? Will you tell Poloa the truth?"
"I haven't decided yet."
"If you do, you will undo everything we've fought for. The lives of everyone Gladdic killed in Collen will have been lost in vain."
He clenched his teeth so hard the points of his jaw ached. Hating her for her callousness toward her allies. Hating the fact that yet again, she'd used him like a figurine on a Nulladoon board.
And hating that she was right.
"I won't threaten Collen's safety." He stood. "And I won't see you again."
"I spend a lot of time thinking about where I'll end up," Blays said to her. "I can't see the future any better than anyone else. But I hope I never become like you."
Already on his way out of the chamber, Dante didn't see if Blays' words had any impact on the old woman's heart: but they cracked something in his own.
~
"I spoke to the Keeper," Dante said, keeping one eye on Vita's sheathed sword. "There's no undoing what's been done. Collen's deal with Cavana will stand."
Vita swore and paced about the room, boots punishing the wooden floor, her wedge-shaped cap pulled low over her eyes. Dante had requested to meet her somewhere more appropriate, such as the Osedo estate, or one of the city's more refined public houses, but she'd gone with his messenger straight back to the inn.
She stopped abruptly, turning on him. "Then I will also do what can't be undone. I will kill her."
She made for the door. Blays seemed to float between it and her. "Stupid question: what will killing her solve?"
"My anger!"
"If you really want her dead, I'm sure time will take care of that soon enough. Old as she is, it might get to her before we've got our boots laced up."
"Yet there is satisfaction in doing work with one's own hands. Step aside."
"You don't have anything to be angry about," Dante said. "We still need your help."
She thumbed her cap up her brow. "How so? Collen has won Cavana's friendship. What more does the Basin want from us?"
"We're not working for the Basin any longer. Your House owns a number of sailing vessels, doesn't it? We need to book immediate passage."
"I thought this friend of yours owned a ship. The dark man."
"Captain Naran left this area at the same time we did to look for someone in Tanar Atain. Six weeks ago, he went missing in the port of Aris Osis. We need to find him."
Vita gave her head a sharp shake. "This cannot be done. If he went missing in Tanar Atain, there will be nothing for outsiders to find."
"That's for us to worry about. Take us there, and I'll honor our original deal to find out where House Itiego is getting its spices."
"An offer of garbage is only tempting to the swine. Do you think I am a swine?"
"If so, Arawn's not going to like hearing about the atonement I need to do. What's wrong with our deal?"
"It's proposed by you. And you are either a liar yourself, or too foolish to know when you consort with one. Either way, I will not trust my family's fortune to your care."
"You have nothing to lose," Dante said. "Whether or not we find our friend, as long as you help us try, I'll find the Itiegos' source of spices."
"You do not understand. He who makes deals with known fools gets spat on by the gods."
Weary of guarding the door, Blays plopped down in a chair. "Tanar Atain's only a few hundred miles from here, isn't it? Why don't we just grab some horses and ride there? We'll get there sooner than we'll finish this ridiculous argument."
Dante raised an eyebrow at Vita. "Last chance. Turn us down, and we'll ride out within the hour."
She batted at the air. "Bah! You would never make it through the Hell-Painted Hills."
"Hills? We've crossed mountains so tall that your head gets dizzy from being so close to the fixed stars."
"They were full of
monsters, too," Blays said. "Beasts like a horse made out of armored bears and also it was immune to magic."
Vita glanced between them, eyes narrowed as she hunted for signs they were mocking her. "I don't care who you are or what else you have done. No one crosses the Hell-Painted Hills."
Dante shrugged. "We don't have a choice. We have to find our friend."
"To suggest this only proves you are the fools I fear you are. You can't do this."
"Sure we can. And when we get back, we'll tell you exactly how we did it."
She bit her lip, her youthful face creasing with worry. "If I could trust your intentions, I would take your deal in the flicker of a fly's wings. But I cannot, or the gods will see how I defy their law, and I will be cursed—along with the family I'm sworn to serve."
Dante forced himself to maintain a neutral expression. It sounded like she could be convinced, but that it was going to require the kind of favor-doing and trust-building that would take days or even weeks to accomplish. It had already been so long since they'd heard Naran had first gone missing. The thought of spending even more time letting him dangle in the wind—or rot in prison, or writhe under a torturer's blade—made Dante's stomach twist on itself like a sponge.
"Do you know about the Chainbreakers' War?" Blays said.
The corner of Vita's mouth twitched. "Wars are like the fire that burns down the forest. An ugly thing, but opportunity for new things to grow. Including commerce. Those of us who live by its flow know wars like a navigator knows the tides."
"Wonderful. Then you know why we fought the war?"
"To free yourselves from the yoke of the Gaskan Empire. And justly so: the torrent of trade it unleashed from Narashtovik and Gallador proves it was favored by the heavens."
"Yeah, that became part of it," Blays said. "But mostly, it was because of a promise we made years earlier to a single norren who'd helped us on our way: that we would free his people. If we kept a promise that absurd, why do you think we'd shrug off the one we're making to you?"
The Cycle of Galand Box Set Page 118
