Of course, that was far from the truth, but soon after, Roger and the others joined Juraviel in the alley outside of St. Precious and ran off into the darkness.
Friends met them in the alleys and separated them, for Bradwarden could not possibly get through the submerged cave openings. Elbryan suggested they go right out then, all of them, to the wilds of the north. That was not possible, the scouts responded, since the Allheart soldiers and a host of monks were guarding the northern wall.
It was too close to dawn to hope for an escape from the city now, and besides, word would spread quickly from St. Precious of their escape. Better to hide the fugitives until a clearer route out of the city could be discerned.
Elbryan, Pony, and the four monks were in the secret caverns along the banks of the Masur Delaval soon after dawn.
By that time, soldiers and monks charged along the city's streets in frantic search, the soldiers led by Duke Kalas, as eager to capture the fugitives as the monks, with Kalas planning that if his soldiers did find them, they would be brought to the house of Crump and not to St. Precious.
"Strike me dead," Master Engress said to Markwart, holding his arms out wide in absolute submission. "I could not allow this, Dalebert Markwart. I watched you burn Jojonah and unjustly proclaim Avelyn a heretic —"
The words caught in the old man's throat as Markwart's spirit surged through the hematite and grabbed him.
Engress went down to his knees but managed somehow to speak once more. "Avelyn destroyed Bestesbulzibar," he gasped. "They are not criminals."
And then he died on the floor of Chasewind Manor, murdered by Markwart as abbots De'Unnero and Je'howith, Bishop Francis, and several other monks —including a very afraid Brother Talumus—looked on.
But Engress had died contented. He had gone straight to the outraged Markwart and admitted his crime, and then had goaded the old man so that Markwart would kill him quickly, before the Father Abbot could learn that Brother Talumus, too, had played a role in the escape.
CHAPTER 39
A Clash of Philosophy
The cave was comfortable, with enough ventilation for several small fires, though the only exit large enough for a person was through water. Those fires were needed, to take the chill out of bones and the wetness from clothes soaked in the cold waters of the Masur Delaval.
Elbryan huddled under a blanket with Pony all through the night, holding her, reminding her how much he loved her, and trying with all his heart to make her understand that he held no anger toward her for her decision to leave him, and certainly did not blame her for the loss of their child.
Every time he mentioned that child, he felt Pony stiffen, felt tension surge through her otherwise weary limbs.
None in the cave got much sleep, though they had no way of knowing what time of day or night it was. For light, they remained wholly dependent on the fires —which were burning low since they had not much fuel and had to conserve it. They did not know how long they would have to remain in the cave.
Elbryan woke first and lay still, staring at Pony. She seemed so gentle in slumber, the beautiful young woman he had first kissed on the north slope of Dundalis, on the day the goblins had come, the day that both of them had been orphaned. He remembered the first time he had seen her again after their long separation, when she had gone with Avelyn back to Dundalis.
She seemed no less beautiful to him now, and that amazed him when he considered all the trials and tragedy they had witnessed, all the losses that Pony, in particular, had suffered. He reached to stroke that smooth face, and Pony opened a sleepy eye to regard him. Elbryan rolled toward her, meaning to embrace her, but she sat up suddenly and Elbryan felt her arm muscles tighten.
"Let go of your anger," he bade her softly.
Pony looked at him as if he had just betrayed her.
"The fight is ended for this day," the ranger tried to explain. "We will steal away —"
"No," Pony interrupted, shaking her head.
"We cannot possibly win."
"Perhaps I do not need to win," Pony replied with such coldness as to give the ranger pause. He shook his head and moved to hug her once more, but again she pushed him away.
"I had a child within me," she explained. "Your child, our child. And he took it. Markwart murdered our child, as he murdered my parents."
Brother Braumin crawled over to the couple then, and Elbryan and Pony realized that the others had been listening.
"Come with me," Braumin offered to Pony, holding out his hand. "I will bestow upon you the blessing of Communal Prayer, that you might find contentment."
Pony shrank from that offered hand and stared at the monk incredulously. "Markwart," she said, "the Father Abbot of your Church murdered my baby, my innocent child, within my womb."
"He is not my Father Abbot," Brother Braumin tried to explain, but Pony, so full of venom, wasn't listening.
"You do not understand the depth of his evil," she went on. "I have felt such a presence once before, in the bowels of a mountain far to the north, the same mountain where Markwart took you all as his prisoners."
She looked at Elbryan, who seemed surprised. "Yes," she said, nodding. "He is as strong and as wicked as ever was Bestesbulzibar."
"He is a man," Brother Braumin reasoned.
"Much more than a man!" Pony snapped back. "Much more, I say. And as Avelyn went into the darkness of Aida to battle the demon dactyl, though he believed that he could not win, so shall I battle Markwart once more, to repay him for his crimes against my child and to rid the world of his vile presence."
"But another day," the ranger insisted, "a day when he is not prepared to battle against us. When he is not surrounded by De'Unnero and the host of monks, by the King and the Allheart Brigade."
Pony eyed him unblinking, but did not respond. The group all sat quiet as the morning —if it was morning—passed. Elbryan stayed near Pony, but he did not question her further. He had never seen her this angry, not even after the rescue of Bradwarden at the end of the last summer, when she had tried to turn back and storm into St.-Mere-Abelle. All he could do to help her now was to support and to trust her, and to try, desperately, to keep her as far away as possible from the unbeatable enemies they had made.
That task seemed more difficult when a Behrenese man surfaced in the cave later that morning. "They are tearing the city apart," he gasped, crawling out of the cold water to the stone floor. "The Saudi Jacintha fled from port, but a host of warships overtook her and destroyed her sails, then dragged her back in. Captain Al'u'met and many of my people have been taken prisoner."
"By King or Church?" Elbryan asked, and the dark-skinned man stared at him as if he did not understand the significance of the question.
"The warships were of King Danube's fleet," the man replied. "But the monks, too, have dragged many from the streets. And it was a host of monks ..." The man paused and turned a sympathetic look over Pony, something that the others did not miss.
"Your little friend told us," the man stammered.
"Told you what?" Pony demanded angrily.
"The tavern where you lived," the Behrenese man explained. "It was burned to the ground. Even now they sift through its ashes."
Pony closed her eyes, a low sound —both growl and groan—escaping her lips.
"What of Belster?" Elbryan asked with concern.
"He is in hiding," the man replied, "beside the others from the place. But they fear, we all fear, that they will soon be caught."
"Bring him here," Brother Braumin said, trying hard to help.
"We cannot," the dark-skinned man explained. "It was dangerous even for me to come to you, for the soldiers and monks are everywhere. We must advise you to flee, however you may. They have taken many folk, and it is rumored that the secret of the caves may have already been given to one of the interrogating jailors. Beware of visitors," he added grimly. "And not just visitors in the flesh, for the monks with their evil magic are sending their chezchus ..." He paused,
searching for the right translation of the yatol term. "Their spirits?" he asked.
Pony nodded. "They are spirit-walking," she explained.
"Through walls," the Behrenese man explained. "No one is safe!"
"We must get out," Brother Castinagis reasoned.
"But the city is no doubt buttoned down," Brother Dellman replied.
"All the wall is patrolled by monks and soldiers, hundreds of soldiers," the Behrenese man agreed.
"The river then," the ranger remarked. "In the dark of night, we will leave the cave, but stay in the water, floating, swimming, downstream, and hope to climb to a bank far to the south of Palmaris."
"The river, too, is heavily guarded," the Behrenese man warned. "The King's warships are all about."
"They'll not see a head bobbing in the nighttime water," Elbryan replied. "And what of you? Are you to leave us again? Do you have anywhere to run?"
The man bowed, recognizing and appreciating the ranger's offer that he remain with them. "My duty is to my people," he explained. "I came only to warn you. The sun is past its zenith, though not yet halfway to the west. May Chezru go with you."
Even the Abellican monks, men who denied the yatol interpretation of Chezru as God, accepted the spirit of that blessing with gratitude.
"Tell Belster of our plan," Elbryan instructed the man, "and inform our friends, the small man and his smaller companion, if you can get word to them."
The man nodded, and dove back into the water.
If the mood in the cave that morning had been somber, it was worse now, with hope fading fast. Now they had to accept, every one of them, that their defiance of Markwart was costing many other citizens of Palmaris dearly.
Elbryan kept watch over Pony, who would not sit still. She reached for the pouch of gemstones; the ranger moved to intercept, but the glare Pony put over him backed his hand away.
Pony pulled open the pouch and dumped the stones on the blanket in front of her. They were all there, she recognized soon enough —even the magnetite she had fired through Markwart's ugly face. As Roger had said, they had kept all the evidence together.
She scooped the soul stone into her hand, clenching her fist tight as the ranger's hand came over to grab at it. He got her by the wrist instead, holding her firmly and moving around to face her directly.
"Where do you intend to fly?" he asked.
"Where is the dog Markwart?" she replied coldly.
"You would go to him now, with all of us trapped in this place?" the ranger asked. "If he follows you back, then the rest of us will pay for your risk."
Pony unclenched her fist and let the stone fall to the blanket, defeated. "I could go out carefully and scout," she offered as Elbryan began scooping the stones back into the pouch, the ranger shaking his head before she finished.
So they sat quietly. The monks formed a circle and began to pray, and asked if Elbryan and Pony wanted to join. The ranger turned a hopeful look over Pony, thinking that prayer might be just what she needed, but she shook her head and turned away.
Elbryan waited a while, let the rhythmic, soothing chanting fill the small cave, then moved again in front of his wife, drawing her gaze with an unthreatening, disarming, and amazingly peaceful grin. "Have I told you of Avelyn's miracle?" he asked calmly.
The woman nodded; it had been all the talk along their corridor of cells.
"Not just what happened," the ranger explained, "but how it happened. How the spirit of our dear friend came to me on that plateau, bringing comfort and peace."
Pony matched his smile with a wry grin. "Where was he when Markwart came?" she asked sarcastically.
Elbryan let it roll off his strong shoulders, reminding himself of the depth of her pain. He started to recount the story of the goblin fight again, offering insights at every critical point, and hinting that those insights had been inspired by Avelyn. He knew that any reminder of the times before their first journey to Mount Aida, when their lives seemed so much simpler, their common purpose so visible, would help to bring her to a better emotional place.
It seemed to be working, and Pony even managed a smile, but then the water churned and Roger Lockless appeared.
"You should not be here!" the ranger scolded, moving to pull his friend from the water. "I told you to distance yourself —"
"At the price of friendship, I had to come," Roger retorted. "For Juraviel told me that you are found, that Markwart knows of the caves, and even as we speak, a force begins its march to the Masur Delaval!"
Everyone in the cave started scrambling, gathering their belongings, stripping their clothes and tying them in tight bundles.
"Get out! Get out!" Roger cried frantically. "And be quick!"
"The path leads to the north, but that is not our course," Elbryan instructed them all. "Stay low in the water and go the other way, along the bank to the south. Hug the rocks, use them to hide, and be quiet!"
Into the water went Braumin, then, one after another, Viscenti, Castinagis, and Dellman. In went Roger, after grabbing Elbryan's wrist and squeezing tightly.
"I love you," Elbryan said to Pony as she moved by him to the water's edge.
She looked back at him and managed a warm smile. "I know," she replied, and in she went.
Following the guide ropes set by the Behrenese, the seven had no trouble navigating the cave entrance and getting out into the open waters of the Masur Delaval. The first out, Braumin and Viscenti, started south as the ranger had instructed, with the other two monks and Roger following closely.
When Pony surfaced, however, she did not stop at the water's edge, but continued up, moving right out of the water, floating up the side of the cliff face, using her free hand to guide her.
As soon as Elbryan broke the surface, he understood. The woman had called upon her malachite gemstone. The woman was going after Markwart!
"Pony!" he called, but she did not look back.
Elbryan scrambled for the bank and pulled himself from the water, rushing to dress. Roger and the monks came out behind him.
"Go, go!" Elbryan bade them. "Flee to safety and bear witness."
But none of them listened. The ranger had to go after Pony out of love, and the others were similarly bound to both of them.
Pony got to the cliff top, in almost exactly the same spot along the fence where she had battled the Behrenese scouts. She paused long enough to dress, to sort through her gemstones, and to consider the daunting road before her. She knew that Markwart would be at Chasewind Manor —the man hadn't gone to St. Precious in all the time Pony had been in Palmaris—and she knew the way to the Bildeborough house. But it was evident, even from this remote corner of the city, that her path would not be clear. She could hear the commotion in the town, the thunder of hooves, the screams, and she saw plumes of black smoke wafting in the evening air.
Pony looked west across the town, to the sun hanging low in the sky. Dusk was settling over the city, but it was still too light for her to pass unseen. Yet she could not wait for night.
But how? she wondered, looking again to her gemstones. Perhaps she should go after Markwart spiritually, with the hematite.
Pony glanced back down the cliff, to see Elbryan and the others already moving off the riverbank, and knew that she could not leave her corporeal form so vulnerable to friend and foe alike. Her gaze focused on the lodestone, the magnetite, the stone she had used against Markwart, the damning piece of evidence that would surely seal her doom should she ever go to trial.
She remembered what Bradwarden had hinted about that particular gem, about another use for its metal-attracting properties. She considered her diamond, which she could use to bring forth brilliant light, but could also use, she had learned in a battle at Caer Tinella, to create an absence of light.
The woman clenched the lodestone in one hand, ruby, serpentine, graphite, malachite, and hematite in the other and began her determined march, not moving from shadow to shadow, behind the cover of buildings, but walking straight
and proud in open defiance.
The path was not straight for Elbryan and the others, for the streets, right down to the wharves, bustled with mounted soldiers, and more than two dozen Ursal warships, fully crewed, were tied to the piers.
They went from shadow to shadow, as swiftly as the ranger could manage. Roger rushed out to the side, motioning to Elbryan that he would scout the flank, and on they ran. They found allies, Prim O'Bryen among them, who bade Elbryan follow him to a safe place, but the ranger ran on, and the monks did not hesitate to follow.
Soon others were running, too, in the same general direction. Belster, and Prim, Heathcomb Mallory and Dainsey Aucomb, and many others, allies of Elbryan and Pony, or allies of Markwart, and even those neutral in the war who were, merely curious about the moving crowd.
As soon as she came into the city, just west of the docks, Pony found Allheart soldiers all about her. She kept her determined course, trying to appear inconspicuous, for, given the chaos of the day, the burning of buildings and the rousting of innocents from their homes, the streets were fairly packed with peasants rushing this way and that.
But she was seen and recognized, and the call went up.
Pony found her concentration, found her rage, and launched it furiously into the lodestone.
She reversed the magic, as she had done with the diamond in Caer Tinella that night long ago, thus instead of focusing the attraction powers of the stone upon a single item, as she had done with Markwart's tooth, she sent out a general repellent power. Though she understood the magnitude of the energy she was sending into the stone, she had no idea of how strong the force might be until a pair of Allheart riders charged to block her path. Twenty feet away, their horses started to skitter and buck, then began sliding backward! The riders, eyes wide with confusion, jerked weirdly, grabbing tightly to the reins before they went flying away. Vendors' carts uprighted, metal-handled doors flew open —flew in, even if they were hinged to open out—and within the houses she heard the surprised cries of women, their pans flying about wildly.
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