“Ingenious, don’t you think?”
“Oh, brilliant.”
“I figured it was the easiest way to find you.” Royce shuffled his feet in the water, grimacing. “So what’s your excuse? Did they come for you with an army of twenty heavily armored men?”
“They caught me sleeping.”
Royce shot him a skeptical look.
“Let’s just say I was put in a position where I’d have to kill people and I chose not to. This is my home, remember. I don’t want to be known as a killer here.”
“So it is good I didn’t slit throats. I’m smarter than I thought.”
“Oh yes, I can see the genius in your plan.” Hadrian looked up. “How do you suggest we get out now?”
“Eventually, Luret will haul us out and hand us over to a press-gang, just as he threatened. We’ll serve in the imperial army for a few days, learn what we can, and then slip away. We can report what we discover to Alric for an added bonus.”
“What about Arista?”
“She’s safely on her way to the rendezvous with Gaunt. Etcher arrived just before dark and I sent her with him. She’ll likely stay with Gaunt, sending dispatches back to Melengar via messengers until Alric’s forces join with the Nationalists.”
“And if Gaunt turns her down?”
“It’s in Gaunt’s best interest to see to her safety. It’s not like he’s going to turn her over to the empire. She’ll probably end up returning to Melengar by sea. Actually, it’s better we aren’t with her. If Merrick is out there, I’m sure he’ll be more interested in me than her. So that job is complete.”
“I guess there is that to be thankful for, at least.”
Royce chuckled.
“What?”
“I’m just thinking about Merrick. He’ll have no idea where I am now. My disappearance will drive him crazy.”
Hadrian sat down.
“Isn’t that water cold?” Royce asked, watching him and making an unpleasant face.
He nodded. “And the bottom has sharp rocks coated in a disgusting slime.”
Royce looked up at the opening once more, then gritted his teeth and slowly eased himself down across from Hadrian. “Oh yeah, real comfortable.”
They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the breeze flutter across the grating. It made a humming noise when it blew just right. Occasionally, a droplet of water would drip into the pool with a surprisingly loud plop! magnified by the chamber.
“You realize that with this job over, I’m officially retired.”
“I assumed as much.” Royce fished beneath him, withdrew a rock, and tossed it aside.
“I was thinking of returning here. Maybe Grimbald could use a hand, or Armigil. She’s getting older now and probably would welcome a partner. Those barrels can be heavy and brewing beer has its perks.”
Moonlight revealed Royce’s face. He looked tense.
“I know you’re not happy with this, but I really need a change. I’m not saying I’ll stay here. I probably won’t, but it’s a start. I consider it practice for a peaceful life.”
“And that’s what you want, a peaceful life? No more dreams of glory?”
“That’s all they were, Royce, just dreams. It’s time I faced that and got on with my life.”
Royce sighed. “I’ve something to tell you. I should have told you a long time ago, but … I guess I was afraid you’d do something foolish.” He paused. “No, that’s not true either. It’s just taken me a while to see that you have the right to know.”
“Know what?”
Royce looked around him. “I never thought I’d be telling you in a place like this, but I must admit it could be a benefit that they took your weapons.” He pulled out Danbury’s letter.
“How do you have that?” Hadrian asked.
“From Arista.”
“Why didn’t they take it when they grabbed you?”
“Are you kidding? I practically had to remind them to take my dagger. They don’t seem too accustomed to thieves, much less ones that turn themselves in.” Royce handed the note to Hadrian. “What did you think of when you read this?”
“That my father died filled with pain and regret. He believed the words of a selfish fifteen-year-old that he was a coward and wasted his life. It’s bad enough I left him, but I had to paint that stain on him before leaving.”
“Hadrian, I don’t think this letter had anything to do with your leaving. I think it’s due to your heritage. I think your father was trying to tell you something about your past.”
“How would you know? You never met my father. You’re not making any sense.”
Royce sighed. “Last year in Avempartha, Esrahaddon was using a spell to find the heir.”
“I remember. You told me that before.”
“But I didn’t tell you everything. The spell didn’t find the heir exactly, but rather magical amulets worn by him and his guardian. Esrahaddon made the necklaces so he could locate the wearers and prevent other wizards from finding them. As I told you, I didn’t recognize the face of the heir. He was some guy with blond hair and blue eyes I’d never seen before.”
“And this is important why?”
“I didn’t know, at least not for certain, not really. I always thought Esra was using us. That’s mainly why I never told you. I wanted to be sure it was true, and that’s why I asked you to come and why I led us here.”
Royce paused a moment, then asked, “Where did you get that necklace, the amulet you wear under your shirt?”
“I told you, my father …” Hadrian paused, staring at Royce, his hand unconsciously rising to his neck to feel the necklace.
“I didn’t recognize the heir … but I did recognize the guardian. Your father had a secret, Hadrian—a big secret.”
Hadrian continued to stare at Royce. His mind flashed back to his youth, to his gray-haired father, spending day after day toiling humbly on the anvil and forge, making harrows and plowshares. He recalled Danbury growling at him to clean the shop.
“No,” Hadrian said. “My father was a blacksmith.”
“How many blacksmiths teach their sons ancient Teshlor combat skills, most of which have been lost for centuries? Where did you get that big spadone sword you’ve carried on your back since I first met you? Was that your father’s too?”
Hadrian slowly nodded and felt a chill raise the hairs on his arms. He had never told Royce about that. He had never told anyone. He had taken the sword the night he had left. He had needed his own blade. Da often had several weapons in his shop, but taking them would have cost his father money. Instead, he had taken the only weapon he felt his father would not miss. Da had kept the spadone hidden in a small compartment under the shop’s fifth floorboard. Danbury had taken it out only once, a long time ago, when Hadrian’s mother had still been alive. At the time, Hadrian was very young, and now the memory was hard to recall. His mother was asleep and Hadrian should have been as well, but something had woken him. Crawling out of bed, he had found his father in the shop. Da had been drinking Armigil’s ale and was sitting on the floor in the glow of the forge. In his hands, he cradled the huge two-handed sword, talking to it as if it were a person. He was crying. In fifteen years of living with the man, Hadrian had seen him cry only that one time.
“I want you to do me a favor. Read this again, only this time pretend you hadn’t run away. Read it as if you and your father were on great terms and he was proud of you.”
Hadrian held the parchment up to the moonlight and read it again.
Haddy,
I hope this letter will find you. It’s important that you know there is a reason why you should never use your training for money or fame. I should have told you the truth, but my pain was too great. I can admit to you now I’m ashamed of my life, ashamed of what I failed to do. I suppose you were right. I’m a coward. I let everyone down. I hope you can forgive me, but I can never forgive myself.
love, Da
Before you were born, the
year ninety-two,
lost what was precious, and that what was new.
The blink of an eye, the beat of a heart,
Out went the candle, and guilt was my part.
A king and his knight went hunting a boar,
A rat and his friends were hunting for love.
Together they fought, till one was alive.
The knight sadly wept, no king had survived.
The answers to riddles, to secrets and more,
Are found in the middle of legends and love.
Seek out the answer, and learn if you can
The face of regret, the life of a man.
“You realize a spadone is a knight’s weapon?” Royce asked.
Hadrian nodded.
“And yours is a very old sword, isn’t it?”
Hadrian nodded again.
“I would venture to guess it’s about nine hundred years old. I think you’re the descendant of Jerish, the Guardian of the Heir,” Royce told him. “Although maybe not literally. The way I heard it, the heir has a direct bloodline but the guardian just needed to pass down his skills. The next in line didn’t need to be his son, although I guess it’s possible.”
Hadrian stared at Royce. He did not know how to feel about this. Part of him was excited, thrilled, vindicated, and part of him was certain Royce was insane.
“And you kept this from me?” Hadrian asked, astonished.
“I didn’t want to tell you until I knew for sure. I thought Esrahaddon might be playing us.”
“Don’t you think I would have thought of that too? What do you take me for? Have you worked with me for twelve years because you think I’m stupid? How conceited can you be? You can’t trust me to make my own decisions, so you make them for me?”
“I’m telling you now, aren’t I?”
“It took you a whole damn year, Royce!” Hadrian shouted at him. “Didn’t you think I’d find this important? When I told you I was miserable because I felt my life lacked purpose—that I wanted a cause worth fighting for—you didn’t think that protecting the heir qualified?” Hadrian shook his head in disbelief. “You stuck-up, manipulative, lying—”
“I never lied to you!”
“No, you just concealed the truth, which to me is a lie, but in your twisted little mind is a virtue!”
“I knew you were going to take it this way,” Royce said in a superior tone.
“How else would you expect me to take it? Gee, pal, thanks for thinking so little of me that you couldn’t tell me the truth about my own life.”
“That’s not the reason I didn’t tell you,” Royce snapped.
“You just said it was!”
“I know I did!”
“So you’re lying to me again?”
“Call me a liar one more time—”
“And what? What? You going to fight me?”
“It’s dark in here.”
“But there’s no room for you to hide. You’re only a threat until I get my hands on you. I just need to grab your spindly little neck. For all your quickness, once I get a grip on you, it’s all over.”
Without warning, cold water poured down on them. Looking up, Hadrian saw silhouetted figures.
“You boys, be quiet down there!” shouted a voice. “His Excellency wants a word with you.”
One head disappeared from view and another replaced it at the opening’s edge.
“I’m Luret, the imperial envoy of Her Eminence, the grand imperial empress Modina Novronian. Because of your involvement in escorting a member of the royal court of Melengar to Her Eminence’s enemy, the Nationalists, the two of you are hereby charged with espionage and hitherto will be put to death by hanging in three days’ time. Should, however, you wish to attempt to rescind that sentence to life in prison, I’d be willing to do so under the condition that you reveal to me the whereabouts of Princess Arista Essendon of Melengar.”
Neither said a word.
“Tell me where she is, or you’ll be hanged as soon as the village carpenter can build a proper gallows.”
Again, they were silent.
“Very well, perhaps a day or two rotting in there will change your mind.” He turned away and spoke to the jailor. “No food or water. It might help to loosen their tongues. Besides, there’s really no sense in wasting it.”
They waited in silence as the figures above moved away.
“How does he know?” Hadrian whispered.
A ghastly look stole over Royce’s face.
“What is it?”
“Etcher. He’s the mole in the Diamond.”
Royce kicked the wall, causing a splash. “How could I’ve been so blind? He was the one who lit the lamp on the river, alerting the wherry behind us. The only reason he never thought to check the mill’s sails was because it didn’t matter to him. I bet he never even told Price where we were, so there would be no way for the Diamond to find us. There must be an ambush waiting at Amberton Lee, or somewhere along the way.”
“But why take her there? Why not just turn Arista over to Luret?”
“I’d wager this is Merrick’s game. He doesn’t want some imperial clown like Luret getting the prize. She’s a commodity which can be sold to the empire, or ransomed to Melengar for a profit. If Luret grabs her, he gets nothing.”
“So why tell Luret about us at all?”
“Insurance. With the manor officials after us, we’d be pressed for time and wouldn’t question Etcher’s story. I’m sure it was to hasten our departure and have us unprepared, but it turned out even better, because you were captured and I decided to stay behind to help you.”
“And you sent Arista off alone with Etcher.”
“She’s on her way to Merrick, or Guy, or both. Maybe they’ll keep her and demand Alric surrender Medford. He won’t, of course. Pickering won’t let him.”
“I can’t believe Alric sent her in the first place. What an idiot! Why didn’t he pick a representative outside the royal court? Why did he have to send her?”
“He didn’t send her,” Royce said. “I doubt anyone in Medford has a clue where she is. She did this on her own.”
“What?”
“She arrived at The Rose and Thorn unescorted. Have you ever seen her go anywhere without a bodyguard?”
“So why did you—”
“Because I needed an excuse to bring you here, to find out if what Esrahaddon showed me was true.”
“So this is my fault?” Hadrian asked.
“No, it’s everyone’s fault: you for pushing so hard to retire, me for not telling you the truth, Arista for being reckless, even your father for never having told you who you really are.”
They sat in silence a moment.
“So what do we do now?” Hadrian said at last. “Your original plan isn’t going to work so well anymore.”
“Why do I always have to come up with the plans, Mr. I’m-Not-So-Stupid?”
“Because when it comes to deciding how I should live my own life, I should be the one to choose—but when getting out of a prison, even as pathetic as it is, that’s more your area of expertise.”
Royce sighed and began to look around at the walls.
“By the way,” Hadrian began, “what was the real reason you didn’t tell me?”
“Huh?”
“A bit ago you said—”
“Oh.” Royce continued to study the walls. He seemed a little too preoccupied by them. Just as Hadrian was sure he would not answer, Royce said, “I didn’t want you to leave.”
Hadrian almost laughed at the comment, thinking it was a joke, and then nearly bit his tongue. Thinking of Royce as anything but callous was difficult. Then he realized Royce never had a family and precious few friends. He had grown up an orphan on the streets of Ratibor, stealing his food and clothes and likely receiving his share of beatings for it. He had probably joined the Diamond as much from a desire to belong as a means to profit. After only a few short years, they had betrayed him. Hadrian realized at that moment that Ro
yce did not see him as just his partner, but his family. Along with Gwen and perhaps Arcadius, Hadrian was the only one he had.
“You ready?” Royce asked.
“For what?”
“Turn around. Let’s go back-to-back and link arms.”
“You’re kidding. We aren’t going to do that again, are we?” Hadrian said miserably. “I’ve been sitting in cold water for hours. I’ll cramp.”
“You know another way to get up there?” Royce asked, and Hadrian shook his head. Royce looked up. “It isn’t even as high as the last time and it’s narrower, so it’ll be easier. Stand up and stretch a second. You’ll be fine.”
“What if the guard is up there with a stick to poke us with?”
“Do you want to get out of here or not?”
Hadrian took a deep breath. “I’m still mad at you,” he said, turning and linking arms back-to-back with Royce.
“Yeah, well, I’m not too happy with me either right now.”
They began pushing against each other as they walked up the walls of the pit. Immediately Hadrian’s legs began to protest the effort, but the strain on his legs was taken up some by the tight linking of their arms and the stiff leverage it provided.
“Push harder against me,” Royce told him.
“I don’t want to crush you.”
“I’m fine. Just lean back more.”
Initially the movement was clumsy and the exertion immense, but soon they fell into a rhythm.
“Step,” Royce whispered. The pressure against each other was sufficient to keep them pinned.
“Step.” They slid another foot up, scraping over the stony sides.
The water running down the walls gave birth to a slippery slime and Hadrian carefully placed his feet on the drier bricks and used the cracks for traction. Royce was infinitely better at this sort of thing, and likely impatient with their progress. Hadrian was far less comfortable and often pushed too hard. His legs were longer and stronger and he had to keep remembering to relax.
They finally rose above the level of the slime to where the rock was dry, and they moved with more confidence. They were now high enough that a fall would break bones. He started to perspire with the effort, and his skin was slicked with sweat. A droplet cascaded down his face and hung dangling on the tip of his nose. Above, he could see the grate growing larger, but it was still a maddening distance away.
Rise Of Empire Page 18
