Storms of Destiny

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Storms of Destiny Page 37

by A. C. Crispin


  “I heard it, too,” Talis said, glancing behind her.

  Moving slowly and carefully, Jezzil bent down and picked up a chunk of rotten wood. He drew back his arm and lobbed it over the fence into the nearby backyard of one of the tene-ments. A torrent of furious barking ensued.

  Talis let out a long breath. “Just a dog,” she said, tugging on the arm of the Chonao she was leading.

  Jezzil followed at an even greater distance.

  When they reached the cellar that proved to be their destination, and were safely down the steps and out of sight, Jezzil dared to relax the Casting and lean against the side of the tenement. He was tired, and his newly healed leg was throbbing.

  Like any experienced soldier, he could doze standing up, but the moment he heard the door scrape, some unknown time later, he was alert. Concentrating, he resumed the Casting and watched.

  Talis and the others appeared, leading the two Chonao, who were again blindfolded. They headed away from the tenement, weaving their way through back streets and alleys, occasionally turning and backtracking, to further disguise their route. Jezzil was growing very tired and by the time they stopped on the edge of the main thoroughfare that led back into the heart of the city, he had to strain his abilities to maintain the Casting.

  “And here we leave you, gentlemen,” Talis said, removing the taller Chonao’s blindfold. “Good evening to you.”

  The other Chonao had his blindfold off before Denno could remove it. “Good evening to you, mistress,” he said.

  Talis beckoned to her compatriots, and the three walked away without looking back.

  At last Jezzil was alone with his quarry.

  It was obvious that the two Chonao were tired. They walked slowly, shoulders slumped. By now the streets were deserted, so Jezzil had to hang far back, lest they hear his boots scrape against a cobblestone. The only light was cast by the streetlamps, and the only sound was the far-off wailing of a wakeful infant.

  He followed the two men as they walked in silence, thinking that the entire night had been a waste. Talis must be imagining things. There was no plot here.

  The Chonao headed uptown, still not speaking. They approached the better section of town, only a few blocks from Khith’s house, and Jezzil considered just going home. He was so tired that maintaining the Casting was becoming painful.

  Yet, he had promised Talis. He gritted his teeth and hung on, determined to at least see where the Chonao were staying.

  They were quartered at the Seaview Inn, one of Q’Kal’s better transient establishments. Jezzil followed them as they approached it, promising himself that he would drop the Casting the moment they were inside.

  The taller one spoke for the first time in half an hour.

  “Succeeding on this mission should bring us both a promo-tion, you know.”

  “It had better,” his companion replied sourly. “Dealing with stinking traitors isn’t my idea of a good time. That old eunuch Agivir is no match for Castio and his crew.”

  “But the Redai will be,” the taller man said, opening the door and fishing in his pocket for a key. “More than a match for Castio and his rebels.”

  “Shhhh!” warned the other as they entered the inn. “We’ll have to—”

  The door closed.

  Jezzil managed to stumble behind a huge ornamental bush that was covered with ghostly white blooms before he dropped the Casting. He sank down, exhausted and panting.

  His injured leg cramped, the muscles knotting until he rocked back and forth in agony. He forced himself to point his toes up, then massaged his calf, gasping with the pain.

  Talis is right. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

  Eregard lay wakeful, praying as he had never prayed before.

  Goddess, help me. Tomorrow is Market Day. Help me be sold to the Governor’s household. Let me stay in Q’Kal. Please.

  I’ll dedicate a new altar of the finest green marble to you if you will only help me!

  He rolled over on his truckle bed, hearing Talis’s soft breathing and Thia’s faint snores from the bed above him.

  Tomorrow is Market Day. Goddess, help me.

  Something struck the window frame. Eregard tensed, then heard it again. He rose up on his elbow, and the next pebble sailed through the open window and landed on his leg. It stung.

  The slave crawled over to the window, dragging his leg-chain. The night was dark, moonless. Only the faint glow of a distant streetlamp illuminated a figure standing in the courtyard of the inn. Eregard saw the figure’s arm move and managed to dodge the next flung pebble. “Who’s there?” he hissed. “Jezzil, is that you?”

  “Of course it is!” The Chonao sounded exhausted and ill-tempered. “You all sleep like logs! Let me in, I have to talk to you!”

  “We’ll come down,” Eregard promised. “Just a moment.”

  When he turned, his chain thunked, then made dragging noises as he moved across the floor. Eregard cursed under his breath. He reached the bed and leaned over to shake Talis’s shoulder. “Talis! Mistress! Wake up!”

  “Wh—” She rolled over and sat up. She had a soldier’s quick alertness at being awakened suddenly. “What is it?”

  “Jezzil is down in the courtyard. He says he has to talk to you, it’s important.”

  “Tell him we’ll be right down,” she promised.

  A few minutes later the small group was huddled in the hay stall in the barn, away from the night breeze, speaking in hushed voices. The only light came from the starlight coming in through the barred window, and Talis’s dark lantern.

  Eregard listened as Jezzil described his experience following the two Chonao.

  “So,” he finished, “while I can’t be sure what they’re planning, it seems evident that they aren’t negotiating in good faith.”

  “It sounds like the Redai is planning to use Castio and our people to help him conquer Pela, then he’ll turn around and take over Kata, too,” Talis said, brushing her black hair back from her eyes. “I knew there was something wrong with those two!”

  “If Kerezau is on his way to Pela using the Meptalith fishing fleet as transportation, this will destroy the treaty between Meptalith and Pela,” Eregard said. “That means the Redai must have made an alliance with the islands. Their little vessels can sail rings around the big navy ships. They can put in at quiet coves where larger vessels can’t. Kerezau could land a lot of troops that way. The northeastern shore of Pela would be ideal for his purposes.”

  Talis and Jezzil turned to regard him, their surprise at his analysis plain. Eregard smiled grimly. “The question is, what, if anything, should we do about this?”

  “I’ll have to talk to Castio,” Talis said. “Warn him that the Chonao aren’t negotiating in good faith.”

  “What do you think Castio should do?”

  “I think he should have those two killed,” Jezzil said.

  “Kill them and dump the bodies where no one will find them. That will delay things a bit, while the Redai waits in vain for their return.”

  Talis nodded. “Good idea. I’ll tell him that. And I think Castio should send an emissary to Pela, warning Agivir that Kerezau is planning an invasion.”

  Jezzil looked from Talis to Eregard in the dim light. “And who will Kata side with, should that happen?”

  “Pela,” both said, almost in unison. Eregard glanced at Talis and gave her a wry smile and a nod. “Better the enemy we know, the enemy that spawned us, rather than a new enemy we have no tie with,” Talis added.

  “But will King Agivir believe Castio?” Thia inquired softly. “He may think it’s a trick.”

  Eregard took a deep breath. Goddess, give me strength!

  “Agivir will listen if I tell him,” he said.

  Everyone turned to look at him.

  Talis sighed. “This is no time for your silly games, Eregard. I’ll speak to Castio first, but then I’m coming back here and it’s off to Market Day for us. I’m sorry, but I need the money.”
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  Jezzil made a small, quickly smothered sound of distress, but said nothing. Thia turned to Talis. “What is he talking about?”

  Talis grimaced, then her fingers brushed her temple and made a quick circle. “He’s talking nonsense. Sometimes he claims to be a Prince of Pela, poor thing. That’s why he picked that name. Maybe he was hit on the head.”

  Eregard took a deep breath. “Goddess be my witness! I am Prince Eregard!”

  Thia’s face was a pale oval in the dimness. She reached over and took Eregard’s hand, holding it tightly. “He’s telling the truth,” she said.

  “Give me strength,” Talis muttered. “Thia, I know you’re fond of him. So am I. But I can’t keep him. My father has ordered me to return home, but I’ve decided I’m not going back. I’m going to stay on with Castio full-time. So I’m going to have to leave Q’Kal, and I need money to do that. I have to sell Eregard today.”

  Thia turned to the other woman. “Talis, he is Prince Eregard. He is telling the truth.”

  Talis made an exasperated sound and rose to her feet.

  “I’m off to find Castio,” she said. “Eregard, come with me.”

  Eregard found himself on his feet. He’d learned obedience in a hard school.

  But Jezzil had risen, too. “Talis, stop,” he said. “If Thia

  says he’s telling the truth, he is telling the truth. She can always tell. Master Khith says her talent is called Truthsense.”

  “Jezzil! Don’t be ridiculous! He’s a slave.”

  “Yes, he is,” Thia said. “But he’s also who he claims to be.

  I can tell when people lie. He’s telling the truth.”

  Talis hesitated, then shook her head. “Have you all gone mad? Truthsense? What’s that?”

  “I asked Master Khith about it,” Jezzil said. “It told me that some people have it. And Thia is one of them. See for yourself. Test her.”

  Thia walked out of the hay stall and stood in the aisle of the barn. She beckoned to Talis. “Come over here, where we can speak alone. You tell me things, things so private that only you would know. I will tell you if they are the truth or not.”

  Talis hesitated, then reluctantly joined the former priestess at the other end of the stable. In the dark stillness, Eregard could see them only as black shapes against the lighter boards of the barn. He made out the soft murmur of the women’s voices, but no words. He glanced over at Jezzil.

  “You … you believe me?”

  Jezzil nodded. “If Thia says you are telling the truth, you are. I’ve never known her to be mistaken. How did a Prince of Pela come to be a slave in Kata?”

  “It’s a long story,” Eregard muttered, straining his ears, trying to hear what Talis and Thia were saying. “I’ll tell you later, after I get this bedamned collar off.” He touched the metal. “I can’t wait.”

  He stiffened as he heard a low, inarticulate cry from Talis, then saw the dark forms of both women merge, and realized they were hugging each other fiercely. After a few minutes they turned and came back into the lamplight. Talis was wiping tears from her cheeks.

  She stopped, and stood staring at Eregard. “I believe you,”

  she said harshly. “But I will never bend knee to one of Agivir’s issue.”

  Eregard nodded. “I understand. If you help me get back to Pela, I’m going to talk to my father about the colonists’

  problems, believe me. He can’t let Salesin take over the way he has been. My brother is … well, he’s not fit to rule. He’s cruel, and he enjoys being that way.”

  Talis nodded. She looked as if someone had punched her in the stomach, shocked and shaky, but she was trying to compose herself. Eregard turned to Thia, taking both her hands in his. “My lady Thia,” he said, then bent down to kiss her hands. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  She gently pulled her hands away, looking self-conscious but pleased. “What should I call you, Your Highness?”

  “Just Eregard,” he replied. Seeing a quick expression flit across Jezzil’s face, he found himself stepping back. What’s his problem?

  “The question is,” Talis said, “how do we convince Castio of who you are? Are there any pictures of Prince Eregard?”

  “In the Governor’s palace, I suppose,” Eregard said. “But my profile is on the twenty liera piece.”

  Jezzil stuck his hand into his pocket and drew out some coins. He studied one. “You only have one and a half chins these days,” he said dryly. “But I think we can manage to convince Castio.”

  A Passage to Pela

  Rufen Castio looked down at the coin in his hand, then back up at Eregard. “Hard to tell because of the beard. There’s a slight resemblance, I grant you. Slight, but …” He shook his head, and a small breath of laughter escaped. “It can’t be.

  The Goddess wouldn’t be that good to us.”

  Eregard nodded. “It’s true. I told you how it happened.”

  “It’s common knowledge that Prince Eregard was lost at sea,” Castio muttered, closing his fingers on the coin. He straightened abruptly, squaring his shoulders, then demanded, “What is the name of the King’s general in the South?”

  “When I left,” Eregard said, “that position was held by General Deggazo. He was nearing retirement, though.”

  Castio looked over at Talis, who spread her hands in a “what can you do?” gesture. “And the King’s geographer, who is also the royal mapmaker?”

  “Petruce q’Avagne.”

  Castio shrugged. “The answers to these questions are matters of public record.”

  Eregard smiled wryly and displayed his callused and scarred hands. “For your average fieldhand?”

  Castio ignored the attempted witticism. “The only way to be sure would be to haul you over to the Governor’s palace and give him a look at you.”

  “First you’d have to let me shave, and even then it’s possible he might not recognize me,” Eregard replied dryly. “I’ve changed. Hard work can do that to a man.” He gave Talis a half-shamed glance. “Even when I was planning to run away, I realized that it would be difficult for people I knew only casually to recognize me.”

  Jezzil, who had been standing quietly, arms crossed, in the corner of the room, remarked, “Be grateful, Eregard.

  Castio is right about this mission being dangerous. It’s better you remain unrecognized, and that collar is an excellent disguise.”

  Eregard turned to the Chonao, his hand going up to his iron collar. “Disguise? I’m not going to travel to Pela in disguise. What gave you that idea?”

  “It’s the sensible thing to do,” Castio said. “The Redai would like nothing better than to wind up with Agivir’s son to use as a bargaining token.”

  Eregard was shaking his head. “Oh, no. This double bedamned collar is coming off, right now, as soon as you can get me to a blacksmith shop. I’m not wearing it one minute longer than I have to!”

  “It’s the perfect disguise,” Jezzil pointed out. “No one looks at a slave.”

  “I want it off,” Eregard said. “I want it gone. ”

  “Before we dock at Minoma, I swear to you I’ll file it off myself,” Jezzil said. “Until then, let’s leave it.”

  Eregard looked from Jezzil to Castio, then on to Talis.

  Each of them nodded agreement with Jezzil’s reasoning.

  The Prince glared at them, then turned and headed for the door. “I’ll wait for you outside, Jezzil,” he snarled, opening it. He stepped outside and slammed it behind him.

  “He’s furious,” Talis said.

  Jezzil nodded. “I don’t blame him. But I think he knows we’re right to leave the collar on until we’re out of danger.”

  “So, what’s your decision, Rufen?” Talis asked. “I believe

  Eregard’s story. I believe Thia. She’s a Truthsenser. Try her yourself. And if he really is the missing Prince, and we return him to Pela, this could be a boon to our cause, couldn’t it?”

  “Perhaps,” Castio muttered, beginning to p
ace back and forth. “If we could gain Agivir’s ear, tell him what his eldest is doing to the colony …”

  “He said his father may not have enough support left in the military to face down Salesin,” Jezzil said. “Or enough spirit.”

  Castio had stopped pacing. “All right, he’s the missing Prince. I believe you.” He looked over at Talis. “I can give you the money for your passage, and a document proclaim-ing you my emissary. But if he”—he jerked his chin at the door Eregard had used—“is a fake, you’ll likely wind up on a gallows if you manage to reach Pela.”

  “We have to do something, or we’ll find ourselves not free, but a Chonao colony,” Talis pointed out. “Rufen, I want to take Jezzil, too. The Prince should have a bodyguard, and I’ll have to sleep sometime.”

  Castio sighed, but nodded. “Very well. But I wish you’d let me send Bona and Sethe with the Prince. You’ve become one of my best advisers, Talis. I don’t want to lose you.”

  Talis glanced at Eregard. “I believe in this mission, Rufen.

  And besides …” She smiled wryly. “I have to be the one to go. Remember, I own this fieldhand.”

  “I’m going with you,” Thia said, her voice quiet, composed, but as steely as any sword.

  “Thia, don’t think we don’t want you to come!” Talis cried. “But this journey is apt to be perilous. The Redai’s forces are massing.”

  The former priestess gave her friend a long, level look.

  “You’ve seen Boq’urak. And I’m supposed to be worried about an army?” She turned her gaze on Jezzil, who was lounging in the doorway. “I’ll pay my own passage. Dr.

  Khith will loan me the payment, I’m sure of it.”

  “What will I do?” The thin, inhuman voice came from the other entrance to the parlor. Thia, Eregard, Jezzil, and Talis all turned to find the Hthras physician, fur still ruffled from sleep, clutching a bedgown around itself against the early morning chill. “What’s happened?”

  “We have to leave, Doctor,” Jezzil said. “We’ll be taking the first ship we can board that’s bound for Pela.”

  “Last night we discovered that Kerezau has offered a sham alliance to Castio,” Talis added. “He plans to betray Kata and conquer the colony. And we also discovered …”

 

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