They reached the pier. But the oarsmen sat out of reach with the oars shipped.
Father gestured for them to come to the dock, without result. “What—?”
Cestus stepped forward to the end of the pier. At his gesture the rowers brought the boat back to the pier. “Take us across. Then wait away from the wharf. Don’t take anyone else unless I say so.”
They climbed into the boat and the oarsmen pushed off, rowing for the Palace. Vatar concentrated on the calming exercises, a little surprised that his preternatural calm withstood being surrounded by so much wave-filled water. That had only happened to him once before.
Father looked across to the next bench. “Cestus, what’s going on?”
“Nothing dangerous, Father. We’re merely providing an example of how much the Talented Fasallon depend on those of us with less Talent—or no Talent. We’re no longer willing to give the High Council control over every aspect of our lives.” Into the stunned silence that followed this announcement, Cestus added, “It seems you were right, Father. Vatar is not the Fasallon who is not a Fasallon. I am.”
There was silence for a moment after this declaration. Father seemed to be struggling to find his voice.
Orleus found his first. He reached around Theklan to thump Cestus on the back. “Good for you!”
“Yes.” Vatar never took his eyes from the wharf, willing the boat to get there faster. “High time those restrictions were lifted.”
Father blinked and his mouth gaped open and closed twice before he spoke. “What, exactly, do you have planned?”
Cestus shifted slightly. “Today. Only that a few of the services the Talented Fasallon and the High Council have become accustomed to will be unavailable for a time. This is merely to get their attention. I hope that will be enough and they can be persuaded to loosen their grip on us so that nothing else will be needed. Fortunately, it can also do double service by immobilizing some of the opposition you might otherwise have to deal with. Most of the Palace Guard are with us.”
Father relaxed slightly. “I see. You know I’m with you in that. But . . . what do you plan if this doesn’t work as you hope?”
Just then, the boat bumped against the pier. Vatar jumped out. “Time for that later.”
As they hurried up the steps, they passed Miceus heading down. He stopped and blinked when the boat pushed off without him. He turned to look at the others. “C-Cestus, I was on m-my way over f-for our cl-class.”
Cestus shook his head. “I’m afraid there won’t be any class this afternoon, Miceus.” He hurried on to catch up to Vatar.
Miceus’s brows knit. “Why?”
Orleus still supporting Theklan, paused to answer. “Mother has kidnapped Vatar’s children. We’re going to take them back.”
Miceus’s mouth hung open. Then he turned and walked along with Orleus. “I c-can help.”
“No offense, Miceus,” Orleus said. “But we may have to fight some of the Palace or Temple Guard in Mother’s pay. We’ve all got at least some training. Well, except Father. I’m not sure it’d be the best place for you.”
Miceus kept on. “I m-may not be m-much g-good in a fight, but I w-want to d-do what I c-can.”
When they reached the entrance hall, Dinus looked up from the Palace Guard he was talking with. When he saw Veleus, he looked away. “I’m sorry, High Councilor, but—”
Cestus stepped forward again. “He knows. Dinus, two young children were brought to the Palace this afternoon. We need to be certain where they are.”
“They didn’t come this way,” Dinus said. “But there are many of us, here. They are beginning to gather below, in the servants’ quarters. One of them will know.”
The Palace Guard looked to Cestus and then said, “Two children, a boy and a girl, about four years old?”
Vatar took a step forward. “Yes.”
The Guard nodded. “They were brought in by the back gate about an hour ago.”
“Where were they taken?” Vatar asked.
“To High Councilor Gerusa’s apartment. With a full patrol of Temple Guards. The Guards haven’t come back down.”
Vatar chewed his lip. The odds weren’t as even as they seemed. He’d only answer for himself, Orleus, and Cestus in a hand-to-hand fight. Well, and Quetza. Father was more accustomed to fighting with words. Even if the odds were even, fighting their way into Gerusa’s apartment would be risky—not just for them. For the children, too. They needed a better plan, but he couldn’t see what. He paced across the corridor and back.
Cestus put out a hand to stop him. “I have an idea. There’s a way we can get into Gerusa’s apartments without her knowledge. Well . . . probably. But it’ll be better than trying to break down her door, anyway.”
Vatar blinked. “What is it?”
Cestus smiled grimly. “The servants’ door. There’s a network of servants’ passages hidden in the walls. All of the higher-class apartments have a discreet inner door for the servants.”
“Won’t she have locked that, too?” Quetza asked.
Orleus snorted as he and Miceus joined the others. “Knowing Mother, she doesn’t even know where it is. They’re made to be unobtrusive.” He smirked. “When I was little, I used to use that door to hide from Mother when she was in a screaming mood. She never found me.”
Cestus nodded. “Exactly. And even if the door is locked, we won’t be exposed in that corridor while we figure out how to get in. Anyone we do pass will likely be on our side. If she’s got any spies out watching for you, they won’t be watching the servants’ stair.”
Father nodded. “It’d be in character for Gerusa to set a trap for us. She wanted you to guess that she had your children or she wouldn’t have sent the Temple Guard in full uniform. She’ll be expecting something. But she’d never think of the servants’ door. She never thinks about the servants at all unless she needs one.”
“That’s it, then,” Vatar said. “Show us the way, Cestus.”
Miceus stepped back. “You go on t-to the s-servants’ d-door. I’ll go up. M-Mother will let me in. I’ll d-distract her for you. If she’s shouting at m-me, that will give you a b-better chance. And I’ll t-try to protect your ch-children.”
Vatar gave him a brief smile. “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.” Before they started, Vatar turned to Theklan. “You stay here. You’ll be safe with Dinus. He’s Cestus’s stepfather.”
Theklan shook his head and then winced. “No, I want to help—”
Orleus pushed him down into one of the chairs lining the corridor. “You already have. Now it’s time to step aside. That’s that hardest thing for a young soldier to learn—when to stop so that he doesn’t slow down or endanger his comrades.” He gave Theklan’s shoulder a brief squeeze. “We’ll be back for you before long.”
Theklan nodded reluctantly.
Cestus looked over at Dinus. “Keep him safe.”
Dinus nodded. “There are some Healers among us. I’ll see he’s taken care of. And good luck.” He fished in one of the desk drawers. “You’ll also need a map of the servant’s entries. They’re even more of a rabbit warren than the public corridors. And you haven’t used those corridors for a long time now.”
Chapter 46: Rescue
Cestus led them back to a small staircase that wound up through the interior of the Palace. They climbed and climbed, past landings where dim hallways led off into greater darkness, until the stairway stopped at another such landing.
Cestus consulted the map Dinus had given him. “This way.”
They were forced to go single-file in the cramped hallway, which zigged and zagged seemingly at random. Eventually they stopped at a T-intersection where Cestus paused to consult his map again before taking the right-hand turn and continuing on. Here, at least, there were tiny slits in the wall, high up, that allowed some light to filter into the corridor. Now, at regular intervals, the floor slanted down and then back up to the original level.
Vatar followed close behind Cestus.
“This is all inside the walls?”
“Mm-hmm,” Cestus answered quietly without pausing. “The Palace wasn’t always one building. The first Council members—the ones who portrayed themselves as the Caereans’ Sea Gods—each had their own dwelling on this island. Each in a different style, of course. Over the centuries, the buildings all grew together. The first hallway we took from the stairs was actually between those original buildings. Now we’re walking between the ‘new’ outer wall and the outer wall of one of those ancient houses. When the floor dips, we’re going under one of the windows, so the view isn’t obstructed for the Talented Fasallon inside. These hallways are usually much busier. Most of the servants must be downstairs.”
“When the High Councilors and their families start calling for their dinner and no one comes, things will start to get interesting,” Father said.
“That was always part of the plan.” A corner was visible up ahead when Cestus stopped. “This is it.”
Vatar reached for the door handle. He heard Caution in his mind. It was hard to argue with that advice, even if it came from the mysterious voice. He concentrated, using his Far Sight to see what was on the other side. “It looks like . . . it comes out in a closet?”
“That’s right,” Orleus said. “Can’t get much more unobtrusive than that.”
Vatar extended his Far Sight a little farther. “No one in the bedroom. They must be in the room beyond.”
Vatar resisted the urge to look farther now, remembering that it was possible for someone with Talent to detect the use of Far Sight or Far Speech. He’d want to know where everyone was when they made their move. That might change between then and now. Best to wait and look only once. The bedroom would make a good staging point.
He jiggled the door knob. Locked. He stared at the door. Silently, he thought, Help me, Thekila. He heard her answer, I will. It was more immediate than Far Speech; Thekila was already there, in his mind. The door began to tremble. Another thought seemed to be in his head, too. The voice. The hinges, it said, the hinges are the weakest point. You know that.
He did know that and he should have thought of it himself. There was no point in alerting their foes when the door into the closet crashed open. This part of their assault was more like a hunt and called for stealth. The hinges would be much quieter. Vatar shifted his attention to the hinges. The screws began to work themselves out of the stone that held them.
Very soon, he had the door off its hinges and they all filed through into the large closet and the bedchamber beyond. They could hear raised voices from the room beyond.
“I can’t understand what’s keeping Matia. I’ve rung three times. Miceus, go down and see what’s keeping her.” Gerusa’s voice.
Miceus’s voice answered. “Of c-course, M-Mother. Just l-let me t-take these l-little ones to Athra. She’ll l-look after them f-for you. She’ll know what t-to d-do for the l-little g-girl. And Z-Zavar will have my ch-children t-to play with. It’ll b-be easier f-for you without them here.”
“No. Those two children stay where I can see them,” Gerusa answered. “They’re going to deliver their father right into my hands. Then, once he’s been seen to attack a High Councilor within the Palace itself—in my own chambers—the Council will be forced to withdraw their idiotic protection of him and his family and friends.”
“B-but he’ll j-just b-be c-coming f-for his ch-children!” Miceus objected. “W-Won’t the High C-Council t-take that into account?”
“Don’t be more of an idiot than you can help. Of course there’ll be no sign that the children have ever been here by the time I call in the other Council members. Selene will see to that.”
Father tapped Vatar’s shoulder and mouthed, “I told you so.”
Vatar nodded. He extended his Far Sight again. The room on the other side of the bedroom door was furnished with plush couches and chairs. Gerusa sat in a big chair by the window. Across from her, in an identical chair, Zavar huddled against Savara’s unconscious form. A single guard loomed over him. Miceus stood between Gerusa and the twins. He expanded his view to find five Temple Guards standing near what must be the main door. Zavar turned his head, as he always did when he sensed Vatar watching him. Vatar hastily cut the connection lest the little boy give them away.
“They’re in the main room,” Vatar said. “With Gerusa and six of the Temple Guard.”
“And the children?” Veleus asked.
“In a chair by the window, on this side of the room. One of the guards seems to have been detailed to keep an eye on them. The rest are watching the other door. Our best chance is surprise.” He chewed his lip for a moment and looked around at his four companions. “If you think you can handle the guards by the door, I’ll go for the children.”
Orleus nodded. “Good plan.”
Vatar hefted his spear. Orleus, and Quetza drew their swords. Father picked up a stone statue that sat on a small table by the bed and held it like a club. Cestus picked up the table for the same purpose. Orleus reached for the door knob.
Vatar put out his hand, shaking his head. “Surprise, remember? I have a better idea.” This door was not nearly as sturdy as the one from the servants’ corridor. Vatar narrowed his eyes and concentrated on the door. It flew off of its hinges and landed with a thunderous boom against the far wall.
Vatar rushed through immediately. Orleus and Quetza were on his heels. Father and Cestus followed.
The door blew across the room, knocking the sergeant, who had been standing behind his men at the door, back against the far wall. Vatar turned immediately towards his children. Only his quick movement in that direction saved him. The sergeant’s sword whistled past his ear and struck the stone of the wall.
Vatar wheeled around, bringing his spear up to parry the sergeant’s second blow just in time. Vatar had never practiced fighting with spear against a sword. In close quarters, the longer reach of the spear was more of a disadvantage than he’d expected. Even with the shaft shortened, his was a weapon meant for open spaces. He struggled to adjust the moves Orleus had taught him so as not to leave himself open to a quick jab from the sergeant’s shorter, more maneuverable weapon.
The sergeant aimed to cut the shaft of his spear, but Vatar twisted so that the sword skidded along the spear blade throwing up sparks. This was the same spear Vatar had made for the tiger hunt, the spear he’d unknowingly sung magic into. He had no fear that the sergeant’s blade could damage the spear head.
Amid the sparks, Vatar saw the tiniest crack in the sergeant’s blade. Striking the stone wall had started a fracture, possibly at a spot that was already weak. If Vatar could just strike that place hard enough, the blade would break.
Vatar was driven back by the sergeant’s onslaught. No chance to concentrate on the weak spot in the sword blade. It was all he could do just to bring the spear up to parry the next blow. And the next. Sweat from the exertion dripped down and stung his eyes, blurring his vision. Vatar shook his head in an attempt to clear the sweat and dank hair from his face. The sergeant pulled his sword back for a great, two-handed down stroke. Vatar raised the spear in the nick of time, and the sergeant’s sword shattered as it struck.
The sergeant stepped back quickly, feinting with the jagged, broken edge as he fumbled for his knife. The distance allowed Vatar to bring his spear up into a more familiar position. He thrust the spear forward, straight through his opponent’s heart.
Vatar let out a shaky breath. He had to place a foot on the sergeant’s chest in order to free his spear. He ignored the clash of swords behind him. His job was to rescue his children. He turned away from the door, toward the window where his Far Sight had told him he’d find Zavar and Savara. His way was blocked.
Between Vatar and his children, Miceus wrestled with the guard who’d stood over them. At least their struggle also served to block Gerusa, who tried to dodge around them to reach the children. Miceus would have been overcome immediately, if not for the guard’s obvious reluctance to hurt him too ba
dly. Gerusa had no such compunction.
Vatar saw the blade flash in her hand and cried out. “Look out!”
Miceus looked up. Just then, the struggle turned him so that his back was to his mother. Gerusa plunged the knife down into Miceus’s back. He grunted in surprise and then slid to the floor. At a gesture from Gerusa, the surprised guard turned to block Vatar. With a roar of rage, Vatar swung the spear, opening a gash in the guard’s throat.
He leaped forward to reach his children, but Gerusa was already there. She held the knife, grotesquely dripping Miceus’s blood, against Savara’s unresisting throat. “Stop! Or I’ll kill them both.”
Vatar couldn’t gather the power of speech. He wouldn’t have wasted words on Gerusa at that point anyway. He began to gather Thekila’s power to fling Gerusa away from his children. No. That won’t work, Vatar, Thekila said in his thoughts. That Power can’t be used against a living thing. He paused fractionally. He truly didn’t care about the Tenets at this moment. It’s not the Tenets. It won’t work against a living thing. You must concentrate on the knife. Like I did when Maktaz attacked you. Vatar nodded, even though Thekila was miles away. It felt like she was in the room.
At a glance, the knife was wrested from Gerusa’s hand by an invisible force and sent flying across the room, crashing into the far wall. Before she could recover, Vatar cast his shield between her and his children. Then he did something new. He began pushing the shield away from Zavar and Savara. Driven by this invisible barrier, Gerusa was forced into the corner and pinned there. He pulled the ties of the nearest curtain down and tied her securely before releasing the shield. Are you all right? He asked Thekila, aware of the potential drain of using the shield.
Fine. Don’t worry about me.
Vatar knelt and gathered Zavar into his shoulder, laying a hand on Savara’s head. Only then did he turn to see what was happening at the door. Father leaned heavily against the wall, breathing painfully, with Cestus hovering at his side. Two of the guards were also down—possibly permanently. Vatar drew on Thekila’s powers to flick the swords out of the hands of the remaining guards. “Stand where you are. Drop any other weapons. Now.”
The Voice of Prophecy (Dual Magics Book 2) Page 30
