“Fun?” whispered Trick in Aly's ear. “Meeting not fun. Fight in street and house stupid.”
She followed the others to the laundry and down into the tunnel, whispering softly inside her veils, “It depends on what you think is fun. It will be loud.”
“Loud maybe fun,” said Trick. “You think fight in street and house stupid, too?”
Aly was about to ask how the darking could judge what was stupid for humans when she stopped herself. She had to remember, these creatures were intelligent. They learned ferociously fast. They already knew every member of the household by face and voice. And they had lived nearly ten years among dragons. Surely that counted for something, since Daine had also mentioned dragons were less than patient as a whole. Aly grinned wryly as they emerged from the tunnel.
“Fights were stupid,” she said. Then she and Jimarn each took one of Fegoro's arms as the rest of their group cut over to other streets.
As before, the King's Watch had abandoned the checkpoints for the night. The afternoon's unpleasantness had taken place in Middle Town, not at the dock. It was habit among the city's guardians to decide that a violent outburst kept the lower classes quiet for days, which meant they were off their guard now.
Their watchman friend was absent. They entered his shack, removed their disguises, then redistributed the packs. Quietly they descended the ladder to the meeting places of stinking piers, stinking water, and stinking boulders. The noise from the dockside merrymakers was as loud as ever, a jangle of music, singing, debate, and the occasional fight. It covered any slips they made on the rocks. At last they came to the metal net and passed into the slave market piers.
Aly adjusted her Sight as the three teams split up. Beside the piers she could see ships at anchor—seventeen in all. They should be close to empty. Even with the net, slavers didn't like the risk that some desperate swimmer might yet escape. Slaves were always taken to the market's pens as soon as their vessel docked. Aly hoped there would be crew aboard but knew the likelihood was small. They would be out, spending the profits of other slave sales.
She led Ysul out to the farthest left pier of the dock she had kept for herself, the dock where she had disembarked as a slave. As he treaded water, she took a small clay globe from his waterproof sack and jammed it into an opening between boards. Back and forth they went, careful to let no water leak into the sack of globes. At last all six were placed. As they waited, Ysul left the waterproof bag close to the nearest globe. It would be incinerated when the globe was set off. It was always important to get rid of any trace of the mage who did a piece of work like this. If Topabaw's people were good enough, they might track any remnants back to Ysul.
Aly and Ysul returned to the net to wait for their companions. The others arrived, their own bags left behind. Swiftly they made their way back to the watchman's shack and changed out of their waterproof clothes into their disguises. As they left the shack, they took the bundled suits over to one of the many fires that lit Dockmarket and burned them. Then they mingled with the crowds.
They reached the end of the night market, a good four blocks from the slave docks and pens. Wooden barriers were set there, manned by rock-muscled freemen with iron-studded clubs. The slave merchants liked to guard their property.
Aly, Jimarn, and Fegoro reached the barriers, inspected the guards by eye as if they too may be for sale, then turned to look at the fading gaiety of the Dockmarket. Ysul was watching a juggler nearby. When he glanced at Aly, she raised two gloved fingers.
She saw the silver flash of Ysul's magic. At the corner of her eye she noted an orange flicker; fast behind it came the roar as the blazebalm ignited, blowing their cheap clay globes into dust and setting the slave docks on fire. Aly turned when the other merrymakers did, to see a vision that made her shiver in delight. Columns of flame clawed the night sky as fire raced over the docks. Within moments their fire was reaching for the ships. A handful of men threw themselves from a few vessels and swam for shore: watchmen, left behind while their mates toured the city.
Like the rest of the Dockmarket crowds and the guards on the barriers, Aly and her friends stayed to look on as ship after ship caught fire and alarm bells began to sound in their part of the city. Only when they heard the ominous thump of marching feet did they mingle with the rest of the crowd and flee, splitting up as the crowd did, to find their way home by separate routes.
Aly went to bed feeling drained but pleased. When she had been brought to those docks and the slave markets beyond, she had promised herself that everyone who had fetched her there would come to regret it. It might take her years to find the actual pirates who had captured her, but the docks, and the vessels of some providers of captives for sale, made for a very fine start. She rather thought her mother would approve.
8
PLOTS HATCH
Once again Aly was roused by a tentacle tickling her nose. She cracked one eyelid, to see it wasn't quite dawn. “Trick, I need sleep. I know you don't,” she croaked after pulling her cover over her head so she wouldn't rouse anyone. “But I do.”
The darking said, “Sleep or big news? Pick!”
Aly's eyes flew open. She was wide awake. “Big news. And it had better be big.”
“Nomru arrested,” Trick told her. Aly smothered a gasp of shock. “Nomru at party at palace when messengers come and say docks burn,” the darking continued. “When princess say punish many people for this and other trouble they make, Nomru say people afraid. He say, kindness do more than hurting. He say, help to buy food, take less taxes. Princess say, arrest him. Take him to Kanodang. Flame with Nomru still. Flame say Nomru say many bad words. Flame say guards afraid to hurt Nomru.”
“I should think so!” Aly whispered. Imajane had misstepped badly. “Why didn't Rubinyan stop her?” she asked.
“Prince try, Flame say. Princess not listen.”
I need to get more darkings into the palace, Aly thought. Then she remembered: “Was Quartz there with Countess Tomang?”
Trick nodded. Although the cover shut out the light, such as it was, Aly's Sight still let her see the darking's featureless but somehow expressive face. It had opened up from its necklace shape so that it could watch her—or could it?
“Can you see in the dark?” she asked.
“Nothing dark to darkings,” Trick replied, matter-of-fact.
Aly pressed that into her memory, then inquired, “So what does Quartz say? Was the countess there when Imajane ordered the arrest?”
Trick nodded. “Quartz say, countess drink too much rotten grape juice. Countess vomit twice on way home.”
Of course she did, thought Aly. Sometimes you don't have to be an oracle to read the omens of your own doom. “Back into place, please, Trick,” she whispered. “We're getting up. Tell Flame to try to come home as best as it can. I can learn nothing from Nomru in prison that's useful right away.”
As soon as her “bead necklace” was secure around her neck, Aly tossed off her coverlet. As usual, Junai was already gone and Dove was sound asleep. Quickly Aly put her pallet bed away, got dressed, cleaned her teeth, and combed her hair. She raced down to the ground floor and out to the practice ground. Ulasim was exercising his longsword skills with Fesgao, but the moment he saw Aly he put up a hand to stop the match. Fesgao drew up and looked over his shoulder to see what had distracted the big footman. Ulasim handed the practice sword off to Boulaj, then advanced on Aly, his muscled chest sweaty despite the early-morning chill. Aly wondered how long he'd been practicing when he grabbed her by one arm and towed her toward the house. “Lovely to see you this morning,” he said, his voice filled with false cheer. “Might I have a moment of your time for a chat? I knew you would agree.” Into the house they went, and down the hall to the meeting room.
Aly tried only once to tug her arm from his grip—it was like wearing a shackle on her bicep. “Why the enthusiasm?” she asked, trotting to keep up with his long stride. “I was coming to see you. There's something you ought to k
now.”
He thrust her into the room and followed her in, closing the door behind him. “I'm sure there is a great deal I ought to know, but first, there is something you will know,” Ulasim said, facing her. “Just what were you thinking of last night?”
Aly crossed her arms. “We agreed that, unless it was necessary, we were to keep one another uninformed about exact operations done by our individual groups. It's to everyone's advantage in case we're questioned.” He reminds me of someone—who? she wondered.
“Yes, we were to keep one another uninformed about particular operations,” Ulasim retorted, scowling. “I do not object in the least to your strategy, your target, or your methods of achieving your goal. I do object—gods curse it, woman, must I ask Mother put a watcher spell on you, to let us know where you are if you go off these grounds? What I do object to is you taking the command yourself.”
Aly winced. Suddenly she knew what had puzzled her about his stance and his speech. Just so would her own da chew out the leader who led a raid on his or her own.
“I allowed it because I knew the source of your interest in that area,” he informed her. “I can understand it all too well. I also had Fesgao send some of his people out to keep an eye on you, in case things went awry.”
Aly had noticed familiar faces in the crowd. She had simply assumed that members of the household had taken a night to enjoy themselves. Idiot! she scolded herself. That's the kind of slipup that can ruin everything! If you hadn't been so fixed on your stupid revenge, you would have asked why our people were out so late!
“You could have been trampled when the crowd ran,” Ulasim went on sternly. “You could have been taken by the King's Watch.”
Aly couldn't help it. She snorted.
“Well, even slaves can get lucky once,” Ulasim admitted. It was an old Kyprin proverb. “But you endangered your people by being there. You endangered us. And you endangered our ladies. Do you understand me? No more heroics, Aly. I know better than you how frustrating it is to stay behind while others strike a blow. But it's necessary. We know too much, and there are ways to get around suicide spells.”
About to explain that the god had made her immune to telling what she knew through torture or magic, Aly changed her mind. Instead she bowed her head. “I'm sorry. You're right. I was foolish.”
Ulasim frowned. “Don't toy with me, girl. I'm not in the mood.”
Aly shook her head and showed him her real face, which expressed rueful acknowledgment. “I'm not, Ulasim, honestly, for once. You're right.” She raised an eyebrow at him. “You knew beforehand?”
Ulasim nodded.
Aly collapsed into one of the cushioned chairs. Since it was impossible for him to loom over her without making himself look silly, Ulasim picked a chair for himself. “And you let me do it anyway,” Aly went on.
The big raka smiled crookedly. “I understood. But it cannot happen again, Aly. You are too valuable to take such chances.”
Aly nodded. “But I'll have to do it once more,” she pointed out. He scowled. “It'll just be me, a quick job. It's something you really don't want to know about.” As if I dared explain about setting darkings to listen inside the Gray Palace, she thought. To Ulasim she added, “I can't trust it to anyone else, and it's vital. After that, I'll move to the rear, just as you do. I swear by the gods.” Again she raised an eyebrow at him. “Are you done scolding me?”
Ulasim began to lever himself out of his chair. “I am done,” he replied.
Aly put a hand on his arm and pressed down. “I told you I have news of my own, news you'll want to hear.”
Ulasim sank back into his seat. “Will you make it quick?” he asked.
“I'll make it quick,” she teased, “but once I'm done, you might be caught up for longer than you think. Last night Duke Nomru spoke unwisely to Princess Imajane. He presently enjoys the Crown's hospitality at Kanodang.”
Ulasim's jaw dropped. “Nomru? Are they mad?”
Aly shrugged. “His Highness, I don't believe so. Her Highness? We still await the magistrate's ruling in her case. Now, they've jailed him. The Prince at least will see that if Nomru was an honest critic before he was arrested, he will in all likelihood be an enemy if they let him go.”
“They have to let him go,” whispered Ulasim. “He's the most powerful noble in the realm after Topabaw. And he's one of the wealthiest. . . .”
Aly let him turn the idea of Nomru's wealth over in his mind. After a few moments she said, “Topabaw won't like Nomru as an enemy of the Crown. I doubt Her Highness would ever forgive the duke for implying she rules the Isles badly.” She smiled. “And if His Highness is ever said to have a flaw, it is that he desires more wealth than he has. I don't think he's mad, not that I've heard. But greedy . . .” Her eyes sparkled. “I love greedy regents, don't you?”
“Aly, you are a wicked creature,” replied Ulasim. The corners of his eyes crinkled. “You are right. Her Highness may have made the mistake, but the prince will not wish to make it worse by freeing Nomru. Even if he considered it, he will not be able to forget the Crown's ability to seize the lands, goods, and wealth from suspected traitors.”
Aly traced the edge of a lotus printed on her sarong. “It sorrows me that you think I am wicked,” she said wistfully. “I fear you are right. I really must change my ways. Eventually.” She sighed, then continued briskly, “Have we people at Kanodang?”
Ulasim gave her a look full of pity. “My dear, we have people everywhere.”
Aly scuffed her sandaled foot on the polished floor. “Inside Kanodang? Not prisoners, but jailers? Cooks?”
“Everywhere means everywhere, Aly Bright Eyes,” Ulasim pointed out. “And I will endanger none of our people for a single luarin.”
Possibilities raced through Aly's mind as she examined all angles of her idea.
Ulasim waited. “That look in your eyes makes me very uncomfortable,” he finally said. “You look like the god when he has a horrendous piece of mischief in mind.”
This is all I would need, Aly told herself. This would disgrace Topabaw utterly. It would show just how weak the regents really are.
She beamed at Ulasim. “I have an idea, if you're interested. Something no one's prepared for. A fast stroke, it'll have to be. Really fast. But oh, so lovely in the results.” She began to whistle a little tune.
“Suddenly I am very worried,” Ulasim said. “I have visions of islands sinking under the sea because of your ‘something.' Spit it out.”
Aly looked at the ceiling. “Break out all the prisoners we can, luarin and raka. Use the eclipse. The people think it's unlucky. So use the night when a shadow lies on the Rittevon line”—the ones assisted by Mithros and the moon Goddess, she thought, but did not say, in case the gods were near—“to deal a blow against the ruling family.”
Ulasim stared at her.
Aly folded her hands demurely. “We have an opportunity, or so it seems to me.”
“What of the risk to folk who know nothing of this? To our own people, to the entire city? The Crown has ordered entire villages slain—what makes you think they'll stop at slaying every raka in the Downwind District? Of all the—”
Aly raised an eyebrow. “Why should they suspect the raka?”
Ulasim took a breath to shout his answer, then stopped.
You have it, thought Aly. Just below her ear she heard a tiny voice say, “Fun.”
“They won't suspect the raka,” whispered Ulasim. “Nomru's wealthy, he has powerful friends with money and household men-at-arms. The Crown will search the city—they must. But the stroke will fall heaviest on the luarin, the very people who are the regents' base of support. Their men will be so busy chasing escaped prisoners and trying to find out how it happened that we will get away with scores of preparations for the actual fighting.” Ulasim frowned and stroked his bearded chin. “You are an evil girl child.”
Aly ignored this pleasantry. “You'll shake up the luarin nobility. They're already thinking th
at if the regents will jail Nomru, who will they turn on next? The duke himself will be in our debt, when the time comes.” And you'll force that limp luarin conspiracy to develop a backbone, she thought. Fear for themselves will drive them into planning rebellion instead of just talking.
Ulasim rested his elbows on his knees. “There will be deaths of people who knew nothing about it. They'll torture anyone they think might be involved.”
Aly crossed her arms. Knowledge of what she suggested closed over her shoulders like an enemy's arm. She had grown up aware of the deaths of many people her parents had known during an attempt to take the throne. They numbered friends and enemies alike: the uncle her brother Thom was named for; her mother's teacher and companion, the supernatural cat Faithful, for whom her mother still wept; the Shang Dragon, the queen's and her mother's friend; Duke Roger of Conté, the king's cousin; a princess of the Isles, King Oron's daughter, who had been killed in the fighting. Aly's family knew the price of revolution, though she couldn't say as much to Ulasim.
“People died in the street yesterday,” she told him. “People who just wanted a look at Sarai. Is this a war or not?”
Ulasim was nodding before she even asked her question. “We free only Kanodang's political prisoners. Unless you mean to loose rapists and murderers on the city?”
Aly shook her head. “They can stay in their cages. I won't mind that. And it will reinforce the idea that it was luarin. They free Nomru, so they figure releasing the other political prisoners will confuse the trail.”
Ulasim sat back with a groan. At last he said, “Send me Fesgao and Ochobu. Anything of interest that your people turn up, come straight to me. It's two days until the eclipse—we have to move fast. We'll strike after Her Highness's party.”
“It's a good thing you've been sneaking warriors into the city since last autumn, then, isn't it?” Aly inquired.
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