Yes. And we can all go back home where it’s possible to breathe fresh air and see the sky, Vatar thought. He loved Uncle Lanark and Aunt Castalia—but they were both better for a little distance. And there really were too many people crowded into that house—into the whole city, for that matter. But this plan hadn’t succeeded yet. “Maybe. This still might not work. Or might not work as quickly as we’d like. Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves.”
“Do you really think that first sailor we talked to will believe anything we tell him?” Father asked.
Vatar shook his head. “No. He struck me as a true believer. I think he needs to stay right where he is. But the second one—the one who called him a fool—he wouldn’t take much convincing.”
Father nodded. “We’re still going to need watchers down the coast. To make sure the Kausalyan fleet really does return home. And to warn us if they set the Exiles or the Themyri ashore anywhere within a few day’s march. They could still be a threat to the farms outside the walls if that happened. We don’t want to be surprised.”
“Most of the watchers have just started on their way back to the city,” Montibeus said.
Vatar shrugged. “I think we should send them back, at least until we’re sure that the Kausalyan fleet doesn’t just turn around, hoping to surprise us. And that they don’t decide to offload their passengers—the Exiles and the Themyri—leaving them for us to deal with.”
“But Caere is not the Exiles’ primary objective,” Teran said.
Vatar narrowed his eyes in thought. “True. That doesn’t necessarily mean they wouldn’t try to take what they could to further their cause.”
“I still don’t like this idea,” Montibeus said.
Amalthea shook her head. “Neither do I, but I don’t think we have much choice. Do it.”
Vatar stood up. “Now, I think the Merchants’ and Fishermen’s Guild Masters should come with us over to the Palace.”
“Us?” the Merchants’ Guild Master said in surprise. “Why?”
“Because, if the Kausalyans have been led to distrust the Fasallon of Caere, they may not take Father’s word—or even mine.” Vatar gestured to his Fasallon grey eyes. “Even though I’m only half Fasallon, I have the look of one. But you two are pure Caerean. And those men must be accustomed to taking direction from your counterparts in Kausalya. You have the best chance of convincing them of the truth of what we have to say.”
Chapter 15: Engineered Escape
Selene watched out of the barred window of her cell as Veleus and his bastard came back for the second time today. Or was it tomorrow already? It was certainly late for official business. She’d given up a long time ago on getting her father to release her from this prison. Veleus hadn’t so much as spoken to her since he’d discovered her attempt to sabotage the Festival. That didn’t mean she wasn’t curious. What were they up to? And who was that with them? Two Caereans! What were they doing in the Palace? Mother would never have permitted it.
They went into the large empty storage room across from her cell and then the guards brought several of the Kausalyan sailors—who also had no business in the Palace of the Fasallon—in to join them. Selene carefully extended her Far Sight to discover what was going on across the hall. One of the most irritating facets of her imprisonment was that her guards always included at least two who were capable of detecting Far Speech. And they had orders to prevent her from contacting her mother. Not that she’d actually had any news to impart, locked up here. Far Sight, though, was just a little harder to perceive. Or maybe they’d only been told to restrict her use of Far Speech, because they hadn’t interfered with anything else. Still, it would be better to be discreet. At least the guards all seemed to be occupied with whatever Veleus was doing. Maybe she could get away with it, if she was careful.
When she heard what was being said in that room, her jaw dropped. They’d revealed the Lie! Sacrilege! Selene wished she dared contact her mother by Far Speech to let her know what lunacy Veleus was involved in now. She was ashamed to even think that man was her father.
She shrank back, out of sight, when Veleus, Vatar, and the two Caereans exited the storage room. Interestingly, the guards didn’t immediately move to return the sailors to their cells. Selene continued her Far Sight to follow Veleus, trying to piece together what was going on. He stopped and spoke with the guard sergeant at the stair landing, just beyond normal earshot. Not, of course, out of range of Far Sight.
“What now?” the sergeant asked.
“Leave them in the storage room,” Veleus ordered.
The sergeant shook his head. “That room’s not securable, sir.”
Veleus smiled. “I know. In an hour or so, take your men down to the far end of the corridor for . . . oh, an hour or so.”
“That’ll leave the stairs unguarded,” the sergeant pointed out.
“Yes. Those prisoners—just those—are to be allowed to escape. I’ll arrange for the desk upstairs to be left unattended at about the same time. There’ll be an unmanned boat at the dock.”
The guard sergeant stared at him in shock.
“It’s all right, Sergeant, the High Council—the Full Council—has approved this. It might just put an end to this sea battle.”
“Yes, Councilor,” the sergeant said, clearly unconvinced.
“Do you really think their spokesman will be fooled—about their escape?” Vatar asked as they started up the stairs.
Veleus chuckled. “Him? Hopefully not. I’m counting on him to figure it out and lead the others out of here.”
Selene sank to the sleeping bench. What did Veleus and the High Council hope to accomplish by revealing the Lie and then letting those men go? She drew in a sharp breath. Did it really matter? At least right now? This was her opportunity—finally—to get out of this prison and make her way south to reunite with Mother.
Lords of Creation knew she’d had plenty of time—months—to plan and—she hoped—perfect a way to get out of this cell. The only thing that had stopped her up ’til know was that she’d still be stuck on Palace Island, with no way to get off and no way to get out of Caere. No way to keep from just being recaptured—and probably put someplace even less pleasant and harder to get out of. That opportunity had just been handed to her—if she could take advantage of it.
She stood up on one corner of her bench to get a look out the narrow, high window. About midnight, she though. It would be dark for a few hours, yet. She’d want to try to move a little sooner than the ‘prisoners’ across the hall. Make her way to that boat first and hide there until they rendezvoused with the Kausalyan fleet. Then see what the situation was there before she revealed herself.
~
Selene waited until she heard the guards withdrawing to the far end of the corridor, before concentrating on her Transformation. She’d gotten a somewhat garbled report from her mother about Vatar’s escape before her guards had become quite so strict about Far Speech. That’s where she’d gotten the idea. Obviously, while Transforming into a bird had worked for him to escape from a tower prison, it wouldn’t succeed nearly as well from this basement cell. She couldn’t become a bird small enough to escape through that little, horizontal slit of a window. And there would still be the problem of flying. Whatever shape she chose would still be the same size as her normal self. It had taken thought and experimentation late at night to come up with a shape that worked—a large serpent. Very like a much larger version of one her brother Orleus had once kept as a pet—at least until Mother discovered it and had a servant throw it out the window.
It was not a form she relished, but the only one she could think of that might do the job. The bars in the window in her cell door were far enough apart for her to put her arm though. They should be far enough apart for the snake to slither through, too. Well, she was about to find out.
She stretched out on her sleeping bench, with her head nearest the door, and concentrated on the shape she wanted to take. She had to push through the p
ain of the shift. It was so much easier just to take the form of another human—as she had done when she impersonated one of the Sea Gods for the Festival. That hardly hurt at all. This did. But just when she thought she would have to cry out from the pain, she felt her body shift into the new form.
All right, now for the tricky part. Resting most of her long body on the bench, Selene tried to reach her head up to the barred window. She hadn’t dared practice this part for fear of drawing too much attention and it was harder than she expected. Not that the body couldn’t support her head, but the higher she rose, the more her head tended to sway uncontrollably. She let herself lean forward to rest against the stone wall before the movement made her dizzy. That helped. Moreover, her scales caught on the stone. She could actually inch her way higher and over to the window. It was slower than she’d hoped, but more controlled.
Once she’d gotten her head through the bars, it was just a matter of pulling herself forward until her own weight did the rest. Selene rested for a moment, her scaly length pooled in front of her cell door. From the sounds across the hall, it wouldn’t be long before the sailors took advantage of their opportunity to escape, too. If she wanted to get to that boat ahead of them—and she didn’t think they’d take well to her present form—she’d better hurry.
Fortunately, Selene had practiced horizontal movement in this form. She slithered down the hall. After getting to the window, the stairs weren’t too much of a challenge, though she couldn’t move as fast as she could on the level floor. Once at the top of the stairs, she slowed down deliberately, clinging to the shadows along the wall. No one was at the desk, but the sound of dishes clinking indicated whoever was on duty might just be taking his evening meal in one of the waiting rooms facing back out toward the city instead of at his desk, as they usually did. She didn’t want to make a noise that might draw his attention.
At the end of the long hallway, she stopped, stymied. How was she going to open the heavy double doors to get out? If she shifted back to her own form, the risk of being caught went up enormously. Even if she got outside and to the boat, she didn’t think the escaping men would take her along out of the goodness of their hearts. After what they’d just been told, they’d probably be suspicious of any Fasallon or else think she was trying to foil their escape—or both. She needed to get to that boat first and find a way to hide. But first she had to get out of the door. How?
Well, she could shift back just long enough to open the door and then shift back. She’d never attempted two fourth-level Transformations in such a short time before. It was likely to leave her too depleted to do anything else for a while. She didn’t like the idea much, but what choice did she have?
Selene let go of her Transformation and stood up. She quickly opened the door, slipped out, and then Transformed again. It was even harder—and hurt more—the second time. She was going to need a good long rest after this was over to recuperate. At least in this form, she wasn’t likely to be recaptured by anyone who saw here. Killed outright, perhaps. Or thrown into the ocean—which would be effectively the same thing. She’d best get herself to that boat and well-hidden as quickly as possible.
There was only one boat tied up to the pier. It was easy to slide down into it, but not quite so easy to find a place to hide in the small boat. There’d be about ten men crammed into this space soon enough. She called up memories of the few times she’d been rowed across to the Temple in a boat like this one. Hmm. The place that would likely be occupied first—and get the least movement or inspection afterward—was the rowers’ bench in the middle of the boat. That, or the narrow space in the prow, beyond the last, narrow, and rarely-used bench. It’d likely be used this time. The only times she remembered that bench being used was on foggy mornings, when a third boatman had been posted there, as lookout. Likely it would be the same this time. Whoever sat there would probably be looking forward—toward the entrance of the harbor and the Kausalyan fleet beyond—rather than back at the other occupants of the boat. She’d be noticed there, no matter how small she tried to curl up.
The rowers’ bench, then. There was a coil of rope already under that bench. She shunted it to one side and did her best to curl herself up as if she were a second rope. Her scales had a pattern not too unlike the braid of a rope. In the dark, with the men hopefully focused outward, to avoid any pursuit or other hazards, she might go unnoticed. With luck.
She’d only just gotten all of her long body out of the way when men thumped into the boat. Selene held herself as still as possible as they sorted themselves out, cast off the rope tying the boat to the pier, and pushed off. As the rowers set up a steady rhythm, driving the small boat onward, Selene closed her eyes and tried to rest, while still staying alert for any movement that threatened to expose her presence. She’d rarely been this tired. That last Transformation had really drained her.
~
It seemed like hours, stuck in the claustrophobic space under the rowing bench, listening to the grunts of the rowers and smelling their sweat—and their filthy boots—before the boat bumped against something wooden. A ship? Selene restrained herself from peeking out of her hiding place. There were far too many eyes for that. If she wanted to know what was going on, she was going to have to use Far Sight.
The boat rocked as she closed her eyes again in concentration. It really shouldn’t be this hard to push her inner vision out such a paltry distance. Those Transformations must have taken even more out of her than she’d thought.
One of the men was scrambling up a rope ladder that had been lowered from above. That was a complication she hadn’t planned for. How was she supposed to climb up that flimsy thing without being seen? Even assuming that they left it hanging over the side after the men had climbed up. Well, it seemed she’d have a little more time to figure that out. After that first man was aboard the ship, the small boat pushed off and the rowers aimed it for the next ship in the fleet.
One by one, the men left the small boat, spreading themselves out among the fleet. Only one rower was left and Selene still didn’t have any idea how she was going to get aboard the ship. All she was certain of was that this would be her last opportunity. She might have to return to human form and take her chances—again.
But, when the boat bumped against what she assumed was another ship, the last man didn’t start climbing up some rope ladder. Instead he shouted up to the men above, who lowered two ropes down to him, not a ladder. The man tied those ropes to brackets at either end of the boat and shouted again. The small boat began slowly, and somewhat unsteadily, rising up to the level of the deck above. Well, that solved one problem at least.
When the boat had been pulled aboard, the man jumped out and started talking. Someone threw a tarp over the boat. That made the interior dark, stuffy, and just a little suffocating, but at least no one was going to see her Transformation. Selene relaxed her concentration at long last and returned to her own form. She tried not to make any noise as she stretched out cramped muscles and listened to what was going on outside her hiding place.
Everyone seemed to be shouting out there, but, as they were all talking at once, it was hard to make out what they were shouting about. She did pick out a few words, though, and tried not even to breathe loudly. The man from her boat had told them all about the Lie. From the sounds, the Kausalyans were about ready to revolt against her mother’s Kausalyan Fasallon who had led them into this war and gotten so many of them killed and their ships sunk.
Selene stayed as quiet as possible while the shouting died down. She heard a clanking sound, like a chain. The anchor being hauled up? And then the ship began to move. Stuck inside the covered boat, she couldn’t be sure, but she thought it might have executed a wide turn. Heading back south to Kausalya? She could only hope.
She lay in the dark and tried to take stock of what to do now. Sooner or later she’d have to leave the shelter of the boat. She’d need water—she was already dreadfully thirsty—and food. Maybe . . . maybe it would
be quiet enough in the small hours of the night. She could hope. Or perhaps—after she’d rested—she could use her Far Sight to seek out another solution. She wasn’t big enough to masquerade as one of the men, but perhaps there was some young boy aboard small enough for her to impersonate. That could work—as long as no one actually expected her to know anything about boats, anyway. For now, she probably should try to sleep and regain her strength. She just might need all the magic she could muster to get out of this.
Chapter 16: Fight Training
Theklan arrived at the lawn he’d selected for his fighting classes early. He needed something to do to distract himself. He knew from Thekila that they were expecting the Kausalyan fleet to attack today. He knew all the preparations they’d made to defeat that fleet. He knew it was much too early to expect to hear how the battle had gone. That didn’t make it any easier to wait, not knowing.
So, he’d scheduled his first attempt to train some of his fellow students to fight for today. He’d been able to prepare a dozen staves. More than would be needed. He didn’t expect more than half that number to show up for these “exercise sessions,” as he’d had to call them to get permission from the Academy. Staves were a good starting weapon. The first one he’d learned.
It was much too early to try to train anyone with a bow, though he’d like to eventually. He hadn’t used a bow in long enough that he’d need to practice a bit himself, to be sure he wouldn’t embarrass himself. And it was better to start with just one weapon, anyway. Just as well. He didn’t know how make bows—or arrows—by himself. He’d have to find out where the hunters got theirs and then see what he could do. Of course, he couldn’t even do that as long as Sharlin wouldn’t let him leave the Academy grounds except for his flight practice with Sharila. And Sharila would likely snitch to her brother if he tried to divert one of those sessions. Meantime, he laid the staves out on the ground in a fan shape to be ready.
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