by Terry Schott
"What the—"
"Who are you?" a voice hissed into his ear. "And why are you following me?"
"Leo? Is that you?"
The arm lifted and Finley was pushed forward. He regained his balance and turned, smiling as he saw the other man’s face. "Thank goodness, it is you. When you grabbed me I was afraid that I mistook you for someone else."
Leo grinned. "I’m sorry, friend. My mind is groggy today." He tapped his head and shook it. "They beat me pretty bad in jail."
"I bet they did. When did you get out? How did you get out? Word on the streets is that Prince Adam saw you kill the king."
Leo chuckled. "He saw me do no such thing."
Finley sighed. "That’s a relief. Many believe that you did the deed, but I told them there was no way."
"Oh, I did it." Leo shrugged. "The prince did not see me, though."
"What?"
"The old man was already bleeding out." Leo wiggled his fingers near his throat and thrashed his head. "By the time the prince got there, I was standing at the window." He laughed. "So you see, the prince did not actually see me do anything."
Finley’s face paled. "You actually killed the king?"
Leo nodded.
"How did you escape, then?"
"They never caught me."
The street vendor frowned. "That’s not true. Everyone knows that you were imprisoned for the crime. They will execute you tomorrow or the next day."
"They will execute Leo."
Finley shook his head and took a step backwards. "I don’t know what you’re saying. Leo. Surely you are confused or unwell. Please stop talking this way and make sense."
Leo closed the distance between them and drew a knife. He stabbed Finley in the stomach, wrenching the blade upward so that the man’s entrails spilled out onto the ground.
Finley’s eyes widened as the knife came out. He fell to his knees, his mouth opening and closing as he stretched one hand out towards Leo’s feet. Moments passed while he writhed on the ground and turned his head slowly back and forth.
Leo watched him for a time. Then he crouched down and cleaned his blade on Finley’s shirt. He leaned close and spoke softly in Finley’s ear. "My name isn’t Leo,. "It’s Lenidas."
53
Leo stood on the dock in the shadows and waited until the last possible moment to board the ship. Two sailors leaned down and lifted the gangplank, raising the board and pulling it towards them as Leo dashed from the shadows.
"Wait! I’m here. Hold the plank." His feet touched the wooden board and forced it to the dock with a clank. The sailors swore while Leo hopped onto the deck. "Sorry‘bout that, boys."
"Ya near ripped our fingers off, lad." The older man shook his head and spat over the edge of the ship, some of his spit landing on Leo’s boots.
Leo smiled and slapped one of the men on the back. "Okay, I deserved that. Thanks for waiting. I would have been in a bad way if you’d taken off without me."
"Didn’t give us a choice," the second sailor muttered. "Who are you? Crew and passengers was all accounted for before we got the order to cast off."
"He’s a late add, boyos." The three turned and both sailors knuckled their brows.
"Aye, Captain. If you were expectin’him then he’s all yours."
"Wasn’t sure if he was coming or not," Christoph said. "Not that I have to explain myself to crew. Unless I’m no longer captain."
The men laughed and shook their heads. "You’re captain, that’s fer sure, Christoph."
"And a terrible one it seems." Christoph scowled and looked up at the main mast. "What crew calls their captain by name? Such disrespect. I should wait until we’re out to sea and throw the both of you overboard."
"That’s what comes from crewing a ship with friends who helped show you how to tie basic knots when ya were only a boy on yer da’s ship." The older crew member slapped Christoph on the shoulder as he moved past. "None of us may call you Captain all the time, but we are glad to be manning this ship with you at the head, lad."
Christoph smiled as the men disappeared. He approached Leo and clasped his forearm. "It’s good to see you alive. I thought for certain you were a goner."
"Officially, I am." Leo turned to look at the city as the ship drifted away from the dock.
"Who knows that you are alive?"
"You, the prince, and one other in the city."
"Élua?"
"Of course."
"Which one?"
Leo shook his head. "I think it best if I don’t tell you. The less you know, the safer you are."
"So you are to be a sailor."
"It would appear so." Leo pulled his hood back and look around the ship. "She is a beautiful vessel, Christoph."
"The flagship of your fleet."
"Where are we going?"
"Exploring. There is word of a land across the ocean twelve days north by sixty days west."
Leo frowned. "Sixty days without land in sight?"
Christoph laughed. "Only if all goes perfectly, which never happens at sea. I expect a longer trip by an additional thirty to fifty days."
"Impossible."
"Don’t worry. I have been busy these last few years exploring our way outwards. There are small islands at specific points where we can resupply. Only five or six days of the journey are uncharted at this point."
"You have never shared that information before."
"Of course I haven’t." Christoph scowled. "Code of the sea forbids such talk."
"What do you mean?"
"There are things which no sailor can divulge when they stand on land. This ensures that secrets of the water remain just that, secret from those who can never understand or use them."
"Interesting."
"Indeed."
"What do you hope to find in this undiscovered country?"
"Gold and riches." Christoph’s eyes glittered in the starlight. "If we find the fabled land, we will be rich beyond measure."
Leo raised one eyebrow.
Christoph laughed. "Richer, then. Tell me, Leo, how would you like to spend your time on this journey?"
"I want you to turn me into a sailor."
"A lifetime of learning packed into less than a year?"
"I’m a good student."
Christoph laughed. "And this ship is filled with excellent teachers. Alright then, if’tis a life of struggle and salt you crave, then we can provide such. Let’s get you settled in with the regular men. Tomorrow your education begins."
54
Lord Argon sat on his throne and stared at his son, Oak, who stood before him with head hung low.
"Leo is dead?"
Oak nodded without raising his eyes.
Argon leaned forward and rested his elbows against his knees before sighing and running a hand through his beard. "How?"
Oak walked to the table and sat. "In the middle of the night, two guards entered his cell and beat him to death. His face was unrecognizable."
Argon took a drink of wine and winced. "This tastes like ash." He threw the mug against a wall, not bothering to watch as it struck with a bang and dropped to the ground. Argon shook his head. "He will be missed."
"He will be missed?" Oak looked up, the sadness on his face clearly visible. "He will be more than that, Father. You chose me to succeed you. I know how much gold and platinum comes to you from Leo’s network." He snorted and looked down at his fist, clenching it. "He will be more than missed, Father. His death will affect this land more than the King’s."
Argon looked up at the ceiling and blinked. "The boy was brilliant, Oak. You know how his business ran as well as you do mine. His network runs smoothly, each step of the entire system controlled by a different person who profits directly from how they handle their portion of the business." Argon shook his head. "No, much of what Leo built will continue to thrive and grow even without him. In the short term, at least. The danger will be to anyone who wants to claim leadership of the entire operation."
"Really?" Argon raised one eyebrow. "How do you know that?"
Oak paused and then shook his head.
"Keeping secrets from your father? Perhaps I should reconsider who takes this throne when I am ready to retire."
Oak shrugged and Argon smiled for a moment before laughing. "No, you are the wolf to lead when the time comes. Keep your secrets. I can only hope they do not jeopardize the kingdom that I have built. If they do . . ." He shrugged.
"The world was destined to be a better place with Leo at the helm," Oak said.
"It seems that destiny did not agree." Argon stood and walked to the end of the table, rapping its surface with one knuckle. "Leo’s operation continues to run. Make certain that someone delivers the stack of coins regularly. I am still entitled to my tribute."
Oak stood. "I will see to it." He left the room and Argon continued to stare at the empty table.
"You talk a brave game, Lord." Argon looked up to meet Lissandra’s eyes as she reclined on his throne, her legs draped over one armrest as she used the other for her head. "But I hear pain in your voice."
"You know me too well. I have allowed you to become my weakness."
"Everyone has weakness, Lord."
He bowed his head. "I will miss him."
Lissandra smiled but said nothing.
***
The doctor sat in the corner of his study, head bowed, a drink in his hand. The room was dark and silent.
"Hello, Doc."
"Mouse."
"You’ve heard the news?"
"Yes."
"The others want to know how we should proceed."
The doctor took a sip of whiskey. "What others?"
"TheÉlua."
"Why ask me?"
"You are senior."
"In age, only."
"Leo made it known who would be in charge during periods of his absence."
"Not to me, he didn’t."
"It’s dark, but picture me shrugging."
The doctor chuckled. "We should spend some time mourning him, don’t you think?"
"In our manner, yes."
"He would not waste time sitting in the dark sulking, would he?"
"No."
"I was hoping you were here to tell me that you helped him escape and it is some unknown body in that cell while he is alive and free somewhere."
"That is a pleasant thought to have, Doc, but we living must continue to live. That is the way of the Alley."
"I am not of the Alley."
"You were."
The doctor took another drink. "How do you know that?"
"I spend a lot of my time being silent and watching, Doc. I discover much that way."
"It also makes you good at keeping secrets."
"Just so."
"Call a meeting, then."
Mouse did not reply. After a few moments, the doctor shrugged and went back to contemplating his drink in the darkness.
55
Stick squatted on the flattened space of dirt, leaning against the wooden wall while he waited for the rest period to be over. He smiled at the young woman beside him, taking notice of her breathing and sweat. She stared at two fighting sticks lying on the ground in front of her. "You are improving," he said.
She shook her head and picked up one of the sticks, a piece of hard wood twenty-eight inches long and one inch in diameter. "This is much different from the staff."
"It is."
She opened her hand and let it drop to the dirt. "I don’t like them."
"They are necessary," Stick said. "You will not always have the luxury of space where you can wield the staff."
"Then I will move to ground where I can wield it."
Stick laughed. "It is time to grow up, child. If you cannot stand and fight wherever battle finds you, then one day you will lose." He nodded at the staffs leaning against a nearby wall. "You are good enough with that to no longer need a teacher."
The girl raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Truly?"
Stick nodded. "All that remains is for you to learn to use the sticks as well. Do that, and you will be ready for me to set you loose on the world."
"Fine." She retrieved the sticks from the dirt and moved to the centre of the practice circle, her hair shining gold in the late morning sunlight as she turned to face him. "Teach me."
Stick grinned and stood. He looked past her and his grin widened. "Give me a few more minutes, lass. I’ve got company."
The girl turned and waved to Mouse before jogging to a different ring to practice on her own.
Stick did not speak until his friend was standing beside him. "How are things, Mouse?"
"Interesting."
"How so?"
"I just saw a ghost."
"Really? Who?"
"Leo."
"That’s not funny."
Mouse was silent.
"He’s been dead for two months now. I think all of us have thought we’ve seen him in the distance once or twice since then. It’s normal."
"I did more than see him from a distance in a crowd. I followed him and got close."
"Really?"
Mouse nodded.
"Did you speak with him?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"He threw me off."
"How?"
Mouse’s cheeks flushed. "I think he saw me."
Stick stared at his friend for a moment, then laughed. "Okay, very funny. You had me going with the story up to that point, but there’s no way anyone would see you if you wanted to remain hidden."
Mouse shrugged. "Maybe I wanted him to catch a glimpse of me. To see if he reacted."
"And did he?"
"Not that I could see."
"Where did you see him?"
"The silk district."
"We don’t go there often. At least I don’t."
"Same. I made a new contact and was doing some background research. He—Leo—was strolling through the silk stalls." Mouse frowned. "It was almost as if he didn’t care if anyone recognized him."
"You’re not making sense." Stick picked a discarded staff from the ground and rested it against the wall. "If it were Leo, which it wasn’t, and anyone recognized him, he would be arrested immediately."
"This city is very large. Someone could live in one district their entire life and not be seen by others living on the other side of the city."
"True, but that’s not Leo’s way, is it? To be unobtrusive."
"No."
Stick walked to a shaded area and poured water from a clay jug. He drained the mug and sighed. "Well, I suppose we should go meet him and see if it is Leo or not."
"It is."
"If it is him, then I have some serious questions for him."
56
Doctor Johnston drummed his fingers against the hard wooden surface for a span of three breaths, then looked at each of theÉlua in turn before settling his gaze on Mouse. "You met with him and are absolutely positive that it’s Leo?"
"Yes . . . ."
"You don’t sound positive."
"He looks and talks like Leo."
"But?"
Mouse nodded at Stick. "You say it better than I do."
Stick sat back, arms crossed and legs stretched out with his boots resting on the table. "He doesn’t move the same way he used to."
The doctor frowned. "What do you mean?"
Mouse nudged Oak in the ribs. "Wait‘til you hear this."
"If you don’t agree with me"—Stick removed his feet from the table and looked at Mouse—"then say so."
"Just because I don’t see it, that doesn’t mean it isn’t there. This is your specialty and I bow to it." Mouse sniffed and pulled at a thread on his cloak. "I think we need more to go on, that’s all."
"Tell me what you saw, Stick."
"He handled a pen differently."
"The actual script?"
"No. His signature looks the same as it always
has, and it’s not an easy one to forge. It’s the way he holds the instrument, how the muscles of his fingers flex and relax. It looked heavier in his hand than it used to." Stick laughed and shook his head. "I know it sounds ridiculous, but everything was going fine and then I saw him write a message. Something inside me screamed something was wrong."
The doctor leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table and rubbed his head. "It’s not ridiculous."
"No?"
"Well, it is." The others around the table chuckled. "But the thought does possess merit, and I have heard stranger examples of instinct kicking in to alert a person of danger." He looked up and nodded at Stick who grinned and reached out to slap Mouse playfully. "What was his reason for disappearing and not letting any of us know that he was alive?"
"Leo says that the opportunity to escape presented itself and he had to act quickly. He was alone with the guard for only a few moments. He killed the man and destroyed the poor fellow’s face. Then he changed clothes and hoped that the others would think it was him on the ground."
"That seems to have worked."
Mouse nodded. "Then he took the guard’s keys, went down to the lower level of cells, and hid while the commotion above subsided. The next night, Leo says he snuck out and made his way out of the district. He had a safe house set up on the far side of the city and he has been hiding out there while things die down."
"No one recognizes him?"
"He told us that years ago he started to make visits to the silk district under a different name. He has property there, a house, even servants."
"What name?"
"Lenidas."
The doctor smiled. "Different but similar. Leo and Lenidas are both examples of the word‘lion’, from old languages."
Oak laughed. "Did Lord Argon know that?"
"Perhaps, why?"
"He has always called Leo a young lion."
Stick sniffed. "You don’t need to speak an old language in order to call him that. Anyone who has seen one of the great cats would recognize the same style of movement in Leo. Lenidas as well."
The doctor tilted his head toward Stick. "You don’t think this is Leo?"
"I don’t know, Doc." The young man exhaled and looked up at the ceiling. "It’s possible that he moves different because he is pretending to be someone else."
