Green, Sharon - Lady Blade, Lord Fighter.htm

by Lady Blade, Lord Fighter

  "But. why?" Kylin demanded, unaware that he spoke aloud. "Why does she hate me so?"

  They had begun growing close, he knew they had, but every time he had started believing the warmth couldn't help but blossom, it had suddenly died out instead! It was almost as though she really did like him, but refused to allow herself to admit it. Or to show him any sign of it. But did it matter why she was doing it? Wasn't it enough to know that she wanted no part of him? Could he spend the rest of his life inflicting himself on a woman who, for whatever reason, despised him to her very soul?

  "I'll have to have j talk with Duke Rilfe," Kylin muttered, ignoring the way his head had begun to throb just a tittle. "It isn't some character I'm pretending to be that the girl hates, it's me. If we can't find out why, or finding out why doesn't change anything, he'll have to choose another heir. I'll stay there and help until he does, making sure nothing happens to Tisah, and then I'll—leave."

  Leave. Turn his back on the woman he'd dreamed about all his life, letting another man possess what should have been

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  his. He hated the very thought of it, felt the knife twist deeper inside him, but what choice did he have?

  The pain in his left palm flared as the leather rein bit into the wound there, but Kylin paid no attention to it. The bandage was gone, just as the girl who had bandaged the wound was gone, and a little more pain simply didn't matter.

  Thanks to the creeping pace of the horse he rode, Kylin didn't reach the city until after dark. Since he was going directly up to the castle he didn't particularly care that the city gates were closed, but when he tried to take the road leading around and up he was given a nasty surprise. The members of the City Guard camped just off the road passed along the bad news, then offered to share their fire with him until morning if he wanted to join their growing force. He asked them if there was any word concerning the whereabouts of the lady Sofaltis, was told there wasn't, then thanked them and rode back into the night. He knew better than to believe their attack force would get anywhere, and he needed some time to think.

  Once Kylin was out of sight of the Guardsmen, he doubled back and picked his way through the dark until he wasn't far from the road where it lay above the city. His mount located a patch of grass and began munching contentedly, ignoring its rider who took the food sack Indris had provided and sat down with it near a boulder. A fire, which might be seen by those in the castle or the Guardsmen camped below, was definitely out. The food was already cooked, the night air was warm enough, and Kylin didn't need light to think by. What he needed were facts, but unfortunately there weren't many of those.

  The Duke and his younger daughters were being held hostage in the castle, and no one knew where the iady Sofaltis was. Kylin considered that good news rather than bad, since it was Sofaltis those "rebels" wanted in exchange for the Duke and the little girls. If Sofaltis were in their hands they would already be gone, needing no more than a threat to the safety of their captive to be sure they would not be followed in force. His Tisah had reached the city safely and was still free, he was willing to stake his life on that.

  But how long would she stay free? Even if the city officials

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  didn't talk themselves into believing the Duke was far more important than one of his daughters, he was willing to bet Sofaltis would not hesitate to offer herself in place of her father and sisters. She wouldn't be pleased when Kylin did his damnedest to keep that from happening, but he was prepared to sacrifice her very high opinion of him in order to assure her safety. Her father would want it that way, and Kylin more than agreed with him.

  The only problem was, that might very well cost the Duke his life. Kylin bit into the cold meat he'd taken from the sack, chewing thoughtfully before swallowing, then automatically reached for the bread and cheese also in the sack. They had all believed Duke Rilfe would be safe until the proper, biased man had been named his heir, but apparently Nimram had made a drastic change in his plans. Why the change, and what could they possibly hope to gain by coming out in the open like that? Why did they want Sofaltis so badly, and even above that—what could be done to save Duke Rilfe and his daughters?

  Kylin was sunk so deeply in thought, the hours slid past without his even noticing. He drank occasionally from the waterskin that had been given him with the food, but his mind was too busy reviewing everything he had heard about and learned as a King's Fighter for the intervals of refreshment to be more than automatic. It was difficult to take a castle even with a good-sized army, but individuals had been known'to broach the stoutest of walls on their own; what he needed to do was recall the details of those times, and compare them with the situation he currently faced.

  Since he hadn't yet remembered anything worth serious consideration, Kylin was surprised when he suddenly found himself distracted. He moved stiffly against the boulder at his back, looking up at a dark sky that told him more than half the night was gone, then felt it again. There was a—tightening—around his lower left arm, from his wrist upward, just as though someone had wrapped a hand around him and closed the fingers more tightly to get his attention. He raised his arm to look at it, expecting to see nothing in the dark—

  And saw, instead, a ghostly silver glow, one he was crazily willing to bet was a bright gleam's version of a whisper.

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  "The silver bracer!" he breathed, well beyond mere surprise. "I'm still wearing the silver bracer!"

  But how? Even as his mind demanded an answer to that question, he knew with absolute certainty that it was no accident. It might be possible to forget the presence of a bracer like that for a short while, but not for as long as he obviously had. And Veslin. The priest of Evon couldn't help but know he had it, but he hadn't mentioned it even once. What had he said to Veslin when he'd heard that child's tale about Evon's panoply? Something about how unlikely it was that anyone meant to have the special bracers would simply stumble over the priest entrusted with their keeping?

  Sure. Unlikely and a child's tale, nothing that could possibly happen in the real world.

  "Blessed Evon, for a god you have the worst timing I've ever seen," Kylin muttered to the bracer, distantly wondering if the deity was likely to take offense. "I'd be a fool to try denying I've been chosen, but how can I simply walk away from this—"

  His words broke off as he felt that—grasping—again, only this time it was sharper, and in a way more urgent. Kylin frowned, moved his arm just a little, and was rewarded with a squeeze that couldn't be anything but a definite affirmative. Something was going on in the dark that the bracer seemed to want him to know about, and it was clearly prepared to take him to that something. Another explanation could be that he'd lost his mind, but when you came right down to it, he'd rather be crazy than forced to sit helplessly by, doing nothing while innocent people suffered.

  "And come to think of it, why shouldn't that trash up there be what I'm supposed to fight against?" he asked softly as he got to his feet, feeling not in the least absurd. "I apologize for not being very bright, Evon, and also for what I said. Unless I really am crazy, your timing couldn't be better."

  Left arm out ahead of him, right hand loosening hi* sword in its scabbard, Kylin moved the bracer around slowly, felt a squeeze, then walked carefully ahead through the dark.

  Chapter 15

  It wasn't much of a surprise to learn that Oeran knew every unofficial way out of the city there was. Not everyone knew those ways, in fact most didn't, and those who had the information were also responsible for its safekeeping. No one really cared for the idea of having bandits or enemy forces of any sort suddenly showing up in the middle of the city, slaughtering anyone they came across, stealing everything not bolted down, and generally making life extremely unpleasant. For that reason private departures from the city were available to those who could pay the price, but departure was all they got. A blindfold
and ear plugs hid most of what needed to be hidden, and deliberate confusion took care of the rest.

  Getting five people out that way wasn't easy, but Oeran did it alone without complaint. I had the feeling that if it had been just me he wouldn't have bothered, but with my Fistmates involved he'd had no choice. He was on his honor, so to speak, and although most of us grumbled over the necessity—or the time wasted because of it—no one went so far as to refuse. We made what plans we could, then followed our host to the shadow of a warehouse in another district entirely, had blindfolds put on and ear plugs of wax inserted, then stumbled along the rest of the way.

  When we were finally unwrapped again, we were a respectable distance from the city's wall. I looked around as my eyes readjusted to sight, seeing the torches on my father's castle up ahead and a small campfire a distance off behind and to our left. The night was quiet except for the sounds usual to it, and I was grateful for the strength I'd gotten back from the

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  very short time I'd slept. I'd be able to do everything I had to, and would worry about other problems at a more convenient time.

  "All right, where do we go now?" Oeran asked me in a very soft voice, putting the blindfolds and ear plugs in his pouch rather than simply throwing them away. "Do you have any idea how far away we are?"

  "I think it's more over that way," I said, gesturing to the left as my eyes went back to the pile of stone that was my home. "I always looked back to see where I was supposed to be and wasn't, and then I would enjoy a quiet, private laugh. This doesn't feel like the right angle."

  No one bothered pointing out that I was working on memories from almost half a lifetime ago; we all knew that, especially me, and if they didn't do the job we were wasting our time out there. Oeran simply nodded and led off with the shielded lantern he'd brought along, picking his way over stones and around boulders, me coming after him and the others behind me. My borrowed boots were a fairly good fit, which was one point of luck in our favor; walking over that ground was hard enough even without any added problems.

  With the number of large boulders just about growing out of the slope, I also didn't get any questions on why finding the hidden entrance was so difficult. It stood to reason that it was supposed to be difficult—if not impossible—to locate from the outside, and despite the relative nearness of the doors to the castle, in emergencies they should be very effective. No enemy force could camp on terrain like that, sloped with only patches of grass among the stones, pebbles and boulders; escaping at night, especially after a successful entry into the castle, should be more than possible.

  Only we were more concerned with getting in than out. The night air was cool and fresh, reminding me of times filled with little in the way of real worry and trouble, encouraging me to put fingers to the boulder I stopped near after . we'd wandered around a while. The stone was both rough and smooth to touch, weathered down but also pitted and torn from whatever had originally tumbled it to its stopping place on the slope. The jewels of my childhood, 1 remembered with a smite, more precious to me than rubies and diamonds and

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  sapphires were to the adults of the world. I had known that secret place so well, how could 1 have forgotten—

  And then I was back to that time again, standing alone in the dark in nightgown and boots, breathing in the delicious scent of something that none of my brothers could ever have. Let them go hunting with our father while 1 was left behind, 1 had something better than hunting where there was even an arrow. An arrow of stone, pointing away from my place of emergence, showing me the direction in which true freedom and adventure lay—

  "That's it," 1 breathed, suddenly excited, turning to the others. "The smaller boulders and bigger stones were arranged in the shape of a large arrow. Going downslope, very definitely downslope, a small cleared area with big boulders all around above it. I had to step around the side of mine to see the castle, but I could see the arrow as soon as 1 came out."

  Oeran and my Fistmates stirred with renewed hope, and then we separated to look for the landmark I'd remembered. I continued along the slope in the direction I'd been going, trying to get the castle into the proper memory place, and then I made a small sound of annoyance with myself before settling into almost a full crouch. Thai was the height I'd been looking at it from way back then, which made quite a bit of difference. I couldn't see quite enough of the castle like that, which meant we were just a little too far downslope. I straightened again and signaled the others, then led the way up.

  It was Ham who finally found my arrow, and we all shared in his grin when we joined him. The stone-dotted head, visible even in the moonlight, pointed away from one boulder that would have been the fletching on a real arrow, and looked like nothing but a jumble of rocks except from right behind it. We could have overlooked it as easily as found it, and I don't think I was the only one who said a few quiet words of thanks to Evon for his help. He had helped us find the place, but hopefully we'd be able to take it from there atone.

  The footing was a little more uneven than I remembered it, and we had to throw a good number of small rocks out of.the way in order to make room for the pry bar, but the lantern

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  helped us to see what we were doing so it wasn't long before the bar was in place. Jak forced it into the ground under the bottom front edge of the boulder, and I held my breath while he and Foist leaned on the bar, trying to coax movement out of a door that possibly hadn't been opened for more than a decade. If it hadn't been opened it would be hard to open, but if it had been opened it probably wouldn't open at all. 1 had time to get that far in the confused groping of my thoughts, and then, with a reluctant groan and a scrape, the front section of the boulder moved out toward us.

  After that Ham's fingers were able to reach the edge of the door, and a moment later we were bending under the braced inner bar to get into the tunnel proper. Oeran went first with the lantern, Rull followed immediately behind with me after him, and then Foist, Jak and Ham. I was ready to just keep going, but Jak put a hand to my shoulder.

  "It isn't polite to leave doors open behind you, especially when you're coming in uninvited," Jak pointed out in a very soft voice, "How do we close that rock again from in here without the brackets to pull on?"

  "There's a chipped out handhold at the bottom of the door on the right," I whispered back, torn between doing the right thing and getting on with the real reason we were there. "That's how I got the thing closed when I was using it on a regular basis. The way the hinges are hung makes it easy."

  Jak turned away to our other two Fistmates, 'but door-closing was an activity 1 had no interest in. I moved past Rull and Oeran, who had stopped to wait for the others, drew my blade, and headed up the close, dark tunnel toward the door I had really been aching to reach. I was used to moving through that tunnel in the dark so my feet didn't hesitate, but a moment later a faint glow lit the stone in front of me. Oeran and his lantern, along with most of the others, had caught up to me, and we went on the rest of the way together.

  1 had wanted to be the first one through the wall and into the castle, but hadn't been able to argue the point that the one needing the smallest opening should be first. If thereiwere guards around there was less chance of their being alerted that way, most especially since the wall opened behind a heavy hanging. Oeran's shoulders may have been wider than mine, but there was no doubt that he was more slender and could fit

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  through a narrower opening as long as he went sideways. My palms itched while he blew out the lantern then leaned on the stones of the second doorway, moving as slowly and quietly as it was humanly possible to do. He also had his sword tight in his fist, and once there was a slit of lighter darkness just big enough for him, he disappeared through. I had deliberately set my mind into the patience of a stalking pattern, kno
wing how important it would be to stay calm while waiting, and was therefore faintly surprised when Oeran was back just about immediately.

  His terse gesture brought us all out after him, one at a time and without sound, to find the corridor of the family wing silent and deserted. Ham came last, having closed the wall behind him, and then we split into the two groups of three we'd settled on earlier, one to each side of the corridor in single file. I led off in front of Rull and Fotst on the right with Oeran leading Ham and Jak on the left, but for the moment everyone was following me. Oeran had actually visited the castle a couple of times over the years and was sure he could find the lower cells where Traixe and his men and the Guard were probably being held, but first I had to get him out of the family wing to a part of the house he knew. Visitors were often taken all through the castle when they first came as guests, but no one was taken through the family wing.

  We prowled from one corridor to the next through the deepest silence I'd ever experienced there, even when compared to the times my father had taken my brothers and most of the fighters on hunting trips. Most of the small torches were unlit and there wasn't even a whisper of sound, not of servants moving around seeing to their chores, not of Guards walking or changing their posts, nothing. Even the air felt heavy and half awake, less the quiet of night than the complete lack of living beings to stir it, and 1 had to clench my teeth to keep from shivering. What if they had decided to kill my father and sisters, and simply bluff their way to what they wanted without needing to worry about escapes and rescue attempts? What if I was too late to do more than begin to revenge my blood? What if—

  I stopped for an instant to force those thoughts out of my mind, then went on again with only that faint hesitation to

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  show what my emotions had tried to put me through. If my family was dead then the ones who had done it would" follow behind them, more slowly and painfully than their worst nightmares had ever hinted was possible, and not before they had told me who was ultimately responsible for what had been done. Then it would be their leader's turn, and I would show him things I'd learned from Blades who came from the eastern mountains, things that were passed on in shuddering whispers by those who hadn't, like the mountain dwe^ers, grown up with them. Someone wanted me rather badly, but when they got me they would be as far from pleased as it's possible to get.