“Not in so many words. I told him we were successful. Was that wrong?”
“I don’t think so,” Dianthe said. “If he knows what we were after, he’d probably assume you were lying if you told him we were unsuccessful.”
“I still feel stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Alaric said. “We’re still guessing at this point, and we can’t begin to know what he intends to do with the knowledge. I think it’s a safe bet that he has comrades in the shadows, which means someone powerful hired him and them. So the next thing he’ll do is report in. After that…” He shrugged. “That’s when fighting becomes likely.”
Dianthe pushed away from the table. “I’ll see if I can follow him,” she said. “Don’t wait up.”
“Don’t take too long,” Alaric said.
Sienne glanced covertly at him. He hadn’t met her eyes the whole time since she’d returned to the table. “I’m going to bed,” she said, yawning dramatically. “How about you two?”
“I am not yet finished,” Kalanath said.
“I’ll join you,” Alaric said, rising.
He led the way through the taproom, diners and drinkers making way for his impressive bulk. Sienne’s nerves felt frayed to the breaking point. He’d seen Aneirin kiss her, so he must have seen her reaction, and he couldn’t think it had been a welcome kiss. If he did, well, they hadn’t made any promises to each other and he had no right to be upset… or did he?
He held the door for her and she immediately went to her knees to look under the bed. The illusion was intact. “I was a little worried, though I probably shouldn’t have been,” she said.
She rose and met Alaric’s glare. “All right, let’s hear it,” she said.
“Hear what?”
“You’re upset because I talked to Aneirin. Did you see him kiss me?”
Alaric sat on the bed, making it creak. “I could see you didn’t want him to,” he said, “and it infuriated me. I don’t like seeing anyone take liberties with you.”
Sienne sat on his lap and put her arms around his neck. “You know,” she said casually, “forty-eight hours ago we were nothing more than friends and companions. And now you’re fast becoming the person I most want to spend time with.”
The glare faded. He put his hands around her waist. “We really shouldn’t do this,” he said. “Anyone might come in.”
“I could lock the door.”
“They don’t have locks.”
“That seems like an oversight,” she said, and kissed him. His mouth tasted of beef and beer, but unlike Aneirin, it enticed her, made her long for more. He pulled her close with one hand and slid the other up her back to stroke the soft skin beneath her hair. She murmured, “Don’t stop doing that.”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” he replied, trailing kisses along her jaw and throat. She ran her fingers down his spine and was delighted to feel him shiver. It felt amazing that this powerful man was so responsive to her touch. She almost felt sorry that they’d only gotten one room, though the idea of more than kisses made her uncomfortable. She’d regretted sex with Rance, who’d seen her as a pleasurable interlude and nothing more, and she had no intention of making the same mistake with Alaric. But it would be an incredible mistake, she thought, and laughed at herself.
“Something funny?” Alaric murmured in her ear.
“Just me.” She kissed him, long and sweet, then turned her face away. “You’re right. We really can’t risk someone coming in.”
Alaric kissed her forehead. “You’re very sensible. Should I leave while you change into your nightdress?”
“Would you mind? Then… I want you to tell me more about your home. If it’s not too painful.”
“Telling you things makes them less awful,” Alaric said, rising and crossing the room to the door. “I—”
The door flung open in his face. The serving woman stood there, breathing heavily. “Your friend,” she said. “The Omeiran. A fight—”
Alaric shouldered past her and ran for the stairs, Sienne racing at his heels. The taproom was virtually empty, the door to the outside hung open, swaying slightly in the cold wind rising outdoors, and from nearby came the shouts of angry people cheering the mob on. Alaric cursed and went for the door. Sienne took her spellbook in both hands and hoped she wouldn’t need to use it.
In the light from a dozen magic-lit lanterns, the stable yard was nearly as bright as day. A mass of people surged first one way, then the other, following the motion of a few men at its center. Sienne was too short to see who it was, but she could guess. Alaric tore into the crowd, heaving people bodily out of his way, and Sienne followed him as closely as she dared. He burst through half a step ahead of her and kept going, a force of nature roused by human misdeeds and ready to wreak havoc on the offenders.
Sienne stopped inside the ring of onlookers, gaping. Kalanath stood there, balanced lightly on the balls of his feet. His staff was missing, his shirt was torn, and there was blood on his sleeve and a bruise starting high on one prominent cheekbone, but he was smiling as if this were the best fun he’d had all week. His opponents, three burly men, circled him at a distance—and then Sienne saw the two men unconscious on the ground that Kalanath’s opponents had to step around or over. One of the unconscious men was the man who’d insulted Kalanath in the taproom, the one who’d been kissing the woman not his wife. No mystery as to how this had started, then.
Kalanath saw Alaric approaching and waved him off. “This is nothing,” he said. “A child could take them with a thing that rattles.”
“Think so?” one of the men said, and charged.
Kalanath dodged, got the man by the shoulders, and used his own momentum to propel him into the watching crowd. A roar of approval went up. To Sienne’s surprise, everyone seemed to be cheering the Omeiran on. Apparently even this far from the capital, not everyone was bigoted.
The two other men took the opportunity of Kalanath’s preoccupation to attack, one from each side. Kalanath punched one in the stomach, and when he folded, struck him in the face with an open-hand smash that made him scream and clutch his nose. He half-turned and kicked the second man in the chest and then the throat without losing his balance, astonishing Sienne further. The man fell, both hands holding his throat. Kalanath swept the other man’s legs from beneath him, dropped, and jabbed his chest, making the man gasp for air.
The first man, who’d fallen into the arms of the onlookers, turned around with their help and barreled down on Kalanath. “Look out!” Sienne screamed, but it was an unnecessary warning. Kalanath turned, dodged out of the man’s way again, and performed a flying kick to a part of his anatomy that made even Sienne wince. The man dropped, curled up in his private world of pain. The crowd shouted with excitement.
Kalanath, breathing heavily, turned in a slow circle to survey his fallen victims and the watching crowd, which gradually fell silent. “If there is another here who would like to start a fight, come now before I become bored,” he said. No one moved. Kalanath brushed his hair out of his face and walked, limping slightly, past Alaric and Sienne and through the crowd to where his staff was propped near the door. Sienne hurried after him.
“You’re not badly hurt, are you?” she asked. “Because Perrin doesn’t have any healing blessings today.”
“He is not here,” Kalanath said. “I think I will look for him. Do not worry, I am well.” He picked up his staff and limped away down the street.
“Is that a good idea?” Alaric said.
“I think he just proved he can take care of himself.”
“I was thinking of the possible mayhem if someone else picks a fight. Five men, for Sisyletus’s sake.”
“Maybe he can talk sense into Perrin.” Sienne yawned. “I really am tired now. All that tension, watching Kalanath fight…you would have stepped in if it had gotten serious, right?”
“As he would have to defend me. Or you.”
They filed back
into the taproom with the rest of the onlookers. From what Sienne could hear of their conversations, that fight would be the stuff of legends in a week’s time.
She trudged up the stairs and then, alone in the room, took out her nightdress, and went still. She looked around the room carefully, then dropped to the floor and scanned the corner. The faint misalignment where the disguised canvas met the wooden walls hadn’t changed.
She rolled away from the bed and stood, hurrying to let Alaric in. “Someone’s been in our room,” she said.
Alaric scanned the room, his eyes narrowed. “How can you tell?”
“I left my bag unfastened, and it was fastened just now. And it was on a different bed, before you ask if I’m sure I left it unfastened.”
Alaric opened his pack and looked into it without taking anything out. “My things have been rummaged through. The falcon’s still there?”
“It doesn’t look any different, but…” She fell to her knees again and dragged the bundle out, unwrapping it. Sparkling green emerald that glowed with magic peeped out of the canvas folds. Sienne let out a deep, relieved breath. “It’s still there.” She wrapped it again, shoved it under the bed, pulled out her spellbook and cast camouflage again. The first one wasn’t likely to fade for hours, but it made her feel better.
“Suddenly Kalanath getting jumped by five hick farmers makes sense,” Alaric said. “Somebody wanted us out of this room.”
“And none of my things were stolen, just rearranged. You?”
“The same.”
“So either we didn’t have anything the thief found valuable, or he was looking for something he didn’t find.”
Alaric sat on the bed and let his pack fall to lie at his feet. “What do you think the odds are that two people are snooping around this inn after us?”
“Not good. But if Aneirin was able to get in and out without raising an alarm, what happened to Dianthe? Wasn’t she going to follow him?”
They looked at each other in growing alarm. “We need to find her,” Sienne said. “Now.”
“Don’t worry, I’m here,” Dianthe said, pushing the door open. She sat on the bed nearest the door and said, “Kitane’s left eye, but I’m tired. I climbed the outside of this building without being seen, and let me tell you, that is not as easy as it sounds.”
“It doesn’t sound easy at all,” Sienne said. “Why did you climb the building?”
“I caught up with Aneirin as he was goading on our amorous friend and his acquaintances, encouraging them to attack Kalanath. I think money exchanged hands, but I doubt it needed to. The guy was pretty mad at Kalanath.” Dianthe leaned back against the wall and worked her boots off. “Then Aneirin said something to our serving woman that sent her up the stairs. Then you came down like a couple of polecats with firebrands tied to their tails, and Aneirin sneaked away to the stairs. I couldn’t follow him covertly, so I ran around to the side, where there’s a low porch roof, climbed up it, and shimmied across to our window. It was an informed hunch.”
“So he was the one in our room,” Alaric said.
“He was good, if a little sloppy. Checked under the beds and everything. That must be some confusion.” Dianthe saluted Sienne with a boot. “Then he put everything back mostly the way it was and left. I climbed down and followed him as far as one of the houses. This town is set up with the important businesses and all that on the main street, and houses on the little side streets. Then beyond that, you get the ranches and farmsteadings. Anyway, there are some decent-sized half-timbered houses to the south and west, and he went to one of those. Went right in without knocking, so I assume it’s either his or belongs to someone he’s very friendly with.”
“Can you show us the one?” Alaric said.
“I could, but it wouldn’t be a good idea. Right now, he thinks… well, he might think we suspect him, but he certainly thinks he’s ahead of us because we don’t know for sure he’s an enemy. I was only able to get close because I’m experienced. You would rouse suspicions. We need every advantage we can get, and that means letting him believe we’re clueless.”
“So what do we do?” Sienne asked, somewhat plaintively. “Because we are clueless, at least as far as knowing what’s going on goes. If he really was thorough enough to check under the beds, he might have searched with his hands and not just his eyes. So why didn’t he take it?”
“I’m going with him not being all that thorough. It makes more sense. But it doesn’t matter what his game is. We head south, just as we intended,” Alaric said. “He’ll probably follow us, but it’s not like he can do anything in broad daylight on the highway in the middle of Rafellin. We keep the falcon close and don’t go off—” He stopped, closed his eyes, and cursed. “Kalanath and Perrin are off on their own.”
“Let’s go find them,” Dianthe said. “And hope Perrin isn’t so drunk as to be lost to all reason.”
The town’s second inn was larger than the first, but just as busy. Sienne was so tired of taprooms and noise and the smell of stale beer. She wished they were home, rid of the emerald falcon and free to do… well, whatever they wanted. Whatever she and Alaric wanted. She shook the image away. Now was not the time to woolgather.
Perrin and Kalanath sat near the fire next to an alarming number of empty shot glasses. Both men sat relaxed and boneless in their chairs, heads tilted back. Sienne thought they were asleep, despite the noise of the taproom, but Alaric said, “We have news. You’d better both be sober.”
“I am sadly sober,” Perrin said without opening his eyes. “I tried to rectify the situation, but Averran’s priests are somewhat immune to the fruit of the vine, so to speak, and I find I cannot get as drunk as I would like.”
“I am sober too,” Kalanath said, his words slurred enough to give him the lie.
“It doesn’t matter,” Alaric said. He grabbed a nearby chair and sat. “Our room was searched. Aneirin set up the attack on Kalanath to give himself time to search it. He didn’t find anything, but we need to be more careful. Starting with staying together.”
Perrin opened one eye, barely visible past the fall of his dark hair. He closed it again. “I apologize for running off,” he said, quietly enough that Sienne could barely hear him. “Please, let us speak no more of it.”
Alaric looked as if he wasn’t ready to let the subject drop, but he said nothing. “It’s not important. Everyone does it sometimes,” Sienne said, glaring at Alaric, who had the grace to redden. “But what if those men who attacked Kalanath had been more seriously armed? He was all alone.”
“I promise they are not a threat, Sienne,” Kalanath said, sounding amused. “Even with weapons.”
“All right, but you see my point. Aneirin was willing to get you injured and maybe dead for the sake of his distraction. I know he looks harmless, but we should take his threat seriously.”
“He’s almost certainly not alone, too,” Dianthe said. “There were other people in the house I followed him to.”
Perrin opened his eyes and stood, a trifle unsteadily. “Let us return to the inn, then, and no longer provide this Aneirin with opportunities to catch us unawares. I take it the plan is as it was—to go south?”
“Right. Traveling in company as best we can,” Alaric said.
They left the inn, gathered a little too close for comfort. The cloudless sky gave the air a chilly bite that woke Sienne from the funk the still, muggy air of the taproom had put her in. High above, the waning moon shed nearly as much light as it had when they’d fled the carvers the first time. It seemed like ages ago. Sienne tucked her hands under her arms and shivered. For once, the idea of sharing a single room with her companions didn’t annoy her, but made her feel safe. It was seven days from here to Fioretti. Seven days in which anything might go wrong.
16
Sienne’s horse seemed happy to see her after five days’ absence. She snuffled Sienne’s hand, smearing slobber across her palm. Sienne wiped her hand clean on the mare’s neck and turned to saddli
ng and bridling her. She wasn’t a horse lover like her older sister, but she liked them well enough, and they’d rented Spark often enough that she’d finally purchased her outright.
“Such a pretty day,” she confided to the horse. “You can almost believe in first summer on a day like this. Clear skies, bright sun… maybe not as warm as I’d like, but warm enough.” She smoothed Spark’s mane and tugged once more on the straps securing the saddle, then draped the saddle bags across the horse’s broad back, balancing the weight.
“Mount up, and I’ll give you the last of your load,” Alaric said.
“What do you mean, the last—oh.” Alaric held the stained canvas bundle. “We can’t put it on Button?”
“I’ll feel better if one of us is monitoring it more closely.” Alaric handed it up to her. She settled it in front of her, where it nestled against Spark’s neck as securely as if it had been meant for that perch.
“I’ll feel better when we know what we’re going to do with it,” Sienne murmured.
Alaric shook his head. “I have some ideas, but much will depend on Tonia Figlari’s reaction. If she doesn’t accept our story, or doesn’t care, we’ll have to come up with some way to get her to give us the knife. And that, I’m still working on.”
“If I still had my family’s connections, I might be able to talk to the king. My father and mother are… I don’t know if they’re friends exactly, but they have influence with King Derekian.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s unlikely their influence is greater than that whatever his name was, the Marchena lord. And you’d risk someone telling your family where you are.” Alaric smiled. “Not that I’d let them drag you back to Beneddo, kicking and screaming.”
“I know. I’d just as soon it wasn’t an issue.” Sienne patted the falcon. “It’s not going anywhere. And I haven’t seen anything of Aneirin this morning. I’m going to indulge in some optimism and say we won’t have any trouble today.”
Stone of Inheritance Page 17
