All that might be, but he also needed food and rest, and before long. He tried not to dwell on the situation he was in. His wife was still missing, and he was, too—at least absent from Northern Guard headquarters at a time when his absence would certainly be noted, a time he should have been there. For the moment, though, he had to deal with more immediate needs.
He considered the chamber around him, There were no furnishings at all, just bare stone walls—except that the walls were gold eternastone. As with the other Table chambers he had visited, there was only a single obvious entrance, but the wooden door and frame that had presumably once filled the doorway had long since vanished.
Rifle still in hand, Alucius moved toward the doorway, then up the stone steps, slowly, because he thought he could hear voices murmuring. With each step, dust swirled around his boots. Halfway up, he paused, listening.
"… sure be safe…"
Alucius tried to make out the words, words that he thought were in an oddly accented Lanachronan.
"… safe enough… Councils armsmen won't be patrolling here tonight…"
"… you know that?"
"… backhills… think this place is still home of demons…"
"… been here before… never seen any…"
Alucius checked his rifle, then took another step, and another, trying to move deliberately so as not to raise too much dust, until he reached the top of the stairs and stood in a small foyer. He could still hear the voices coming from the larger chamber beyond.
The talking went on… and on.
Tired as he was, Alucius decided that he would have to try the breeze illusion to move past whoever was in the chamber beyond. If it didn't work, perhaps the rifle's presence would be enough to intimidate them, since those talking sounded as though they were beggars or homeless folk. He concentrated on creating the impression of nothingness, then eased through the doorway out into the larger chamber, moving one step at a time.
"… heard something…" One of the figures in rags turned toward Alucius.
The young colonel shifted his grip on the rifle.
Another of the figures, a bearded man in an armless gray tunic, looked toward Alucius, but his eyes were focused more on Alucius's boots. "… over there… boot prints… see…"
"Nobody's there…"
"It's a demon… or its boots!"
"Run! Run, Nargila!"
"… no demons… you said no demons…"
"Run… !"
Alucius dropped the illusion once the three figures in rags scrambled
through the bare stone archway and out away from him. He walked slowly toward the windows through which sunlight angled. At the low, wide window, which at one time had to have held a frame and glass, he glanced out into late afternoon, where the sun hung low over a city, over dwellings that glowed yellow in the slanting sunlight. He had to squint, trying not to look directly at the sun, but he could see that the dwellings in the distance, to the north, were indeed of yellowstone and dark split slate.
Closer, below the building itself, ran a paved yellowstone road, into which years of wagon wheels had carved grooves almost a handspan deep. The road alone told Alucius where he was—in the city of Dereka, capital of Deforya. To confirm that, he leaned out and looked to the north, where he could see yet another of the gold eternastone buildings, built without visible mortar or gaps between the large and regular stones. Even farther to the north was a greenstone tower.
He stepped back, swallowing. He was relieved, in a way, to be somewhere that he recognized, but also troubled to have discovered just how many Tables there once had been.
After a moment, Alucius turned and made his way in the general direction taken by the fleeing beggars, finding a wide stone staircase. In time he walked from a square arch on the north side of the building, stepping out and turning west.
A vendor at a small cart stared at him, but he did not see anyone else who seemed even to notice him as he walked westward. He took the precaution of leaving his riding jacket closed, so that the insignia on his collar could not be seen. Once he reached the main boulevard, he looked southward, but all he could see of the Landarch's palace was a small section of the main gates and another green tower—the one at the northern end.
From what Alucius recalled, there were no places offering lodging to the south of where he stood. He felt like trudging, but forced himself to walk alertly northward along the main boulevard, vaguely recalling having seen some inns there when he had last been in Dereka. He also remembered to stay out of the center section of the boulevard, reserved for riders and wagons. He worried about carrying the rifle, but he saw more than a few bravos, some looking even more tired and disreputable than he thought he must, also carrying weapons. That was something he had not recalled from when he had been in Dereka before.
The streets were less crowded than he recalled, and few people looked directly at each other or at Alucius. He had to walk almost half a vingt before he reached a corner where, across the side street, he saw a three-story stone structure with the signboard that proclaimed the building as the Red House. Beside the letters was the picture of a house totally in red.
All the shutters, doors, and wooden trim had been recently painted a bright red that stood out against the dressed graystones, stones that had doubtless come from an older structure. The inn was certainly a place more costly than Alucius would have preferred, but it was also likely to be more reputable than a less costly place. He crossed the side street and walked through the stone archway.
A young man with black hair and wearing a red leather vest rose from behind a small desk to one side of the spacious foyer. "Yes?"
"I'm looking for a room… and a meal."
The angular young man looked at Alucius, at the heavy rifle, and then at the nightsilk-covered riding jacket. "Be five coppers a night for the room. Seven if you stable a mount."
"Mount didn't make it all the way here," Alucius replied. He hoped the chestnut was all right, but there was little he could do, not when he was some six hundred vingts from Salaan.
"You here to join the Council force?"
"Hadn't thought to… When I left my place… well… Landarch was having trouble, but…" Alucius hoped his vague reply would lead to more information.
"He had his troubles, all right." The young man shook his head. "All started after the Lanachronans came in and destroyed the nomads. Two years back. Landarch said the big landowners hadn't met their obligations. He tried to curb their privileges. Landowners… they complained… plots here and plots there. Woke up a month ago, the Landarch was dead, and the Council was in power."
Alucius nodded. "Think I might just have to think it over."
"You want a room? We have a small one on the third floor. We could go four coppers."
"I'll take it. Need to sleep somewhere. Room have a basin and towel?"
"All the rooms do. You need more water, you can bring the pitcher down here."
"Thank you." Alucius extended the coppers, then offered a tired smile. "What's best to eat tonight?"
"Stew's never bad, but the plumapple chicken's probably the best. Or the Spirnaci noodles with the groundpig." The young man extended a heavy bronze key. "First door to the left at the top of the stairs. Has a red square on the door panel."
"Thank you."
"Sir… might be better if you left the weapon in your room, It'll be safe there."
Alucius nodded.
The stairs to the second floor were wide and made of polished stone. Those to the third floor were far narrower and were wood covered with a dark gray carpeting, The key turned the heavy lock easily, and Alucius stepped into the room behind the red square.
Since he'd been expecting a cot in a space more like a barracks cubby, he was pleasantly surprised by the room—a space three and a half yards by four with a narrow window offering a view of the one of the abandoned gold eternastone structures. The inside shutters were dark oak, and the bed, while single, had a firm mattress
, both sheets, and a heavy blanket. The wash table had two pitchers and a generous basin with two towels.
After slipping the rifle under the mattress, he stepped to the basin and pitcher. Slowly and carefully, he peeled off his clothes to the waist. As he had suspected, he had bruises distributed all across his upper body. Some were still dark, but others were beginning to turn yellow and purple. He slowly washed away the dirt and grime. He would have liked to shave, because his beard itched, both growing out and even when grown out, but all his personal gear had been left in his quarters.
Still… cool as it was, the water felt good. And so would some sleep, but that would have to wait until after he ate.
Once he was cleaner, he brushed out the dust and dirt from his jacket and shirt, using a damp corner of one of the towels to remove several obvious spots. He removed the collar insignia, slipping them into his wallet. Then he left the room, locking it behind him, and made his way down the stairs to the public room. He left the riding jacket on, but open.
Only half the tables in the long room were taken, and as Alucius glanced around, a servingwoman—wearing a red apron with a few splotches on it—paused and gestured. "Take any vacant table, sir."
"Thank you." Alucius nodded and moved toward the one corner table remaining.
He had barely seated himself when another server, a squarish woman—also wearing a red apron—appeared beside his table.
"What'll it be?"
"What's on the board?" Alucius asked.
"Spirnaci pig, plumapple fowl, and stew. Four coppers for each. Ale's two, and wine is three."
"Ale and the fowl."
"Coming up."
Alucius surveyed the room but saw nothing out of the ordinary, either with his eyes or Talent. There was absolutely no trace of purpleness in any of those dining or serving them. For that he was most grateful. He wished he had an idea of where Wendra might be and how to reach her. But he doubted he could even search more until he was refreshed and rested, and that bothered him as well. He had always disliked knowing nothing, and when Wendra was involved, that was even worse.
Just as bad was the realization that there were far more ifrits than he had known about in Corus, and that some of them were real ifrits—not just people possessed through the Tables. He had to wonder how many more were placed in other cities, such as Tempre or Hieron, or even Alustre.
He sat back listening, trying not to think of Wendra, or the ifrits, waiting for his ale and food.
"Council's going to raise the road tariffs on the north highway .. ."
"About time."
"… Praetor of Lustrea won't like it…"
"… he's young… army got near wiped out by Aellyan Edyss two years back… can't have that many lancers now…"
"… if he does… Council can just drop the tariffs… worth a try…"
"Right about that… anything's better 'n more tariffs on us…"
Alucius wasn't sure, but the speaker who was concerned about tariffs looked to be a merchant, rather than an landowner.
"Here's your ale. Be two."
Alucius handed over the coppers, and then took a slow swallow. The brew was heavy, a darkish amber, but not bitter, and cool. He kept listening as he took small swallows.
"… need to be careful… say the Council wants to expand the lancers…"
"… no reason… not these days…"
"… why we need to be careful…"
"…oh…"
"Lord-Protector all tied up with the Madriens… say they got a regent now…"
"Madrien always been trouble…"
"… wager it'll be more now. Say… heard that daughter of yours…"
Alucius lost the train of the conversation as the server returned again.
"Here's the fowl."
"Maybe you could help me." Alucius handed over five coppers. "I just got here from the west… Heard the Landarch was killed, and a Council's running things. You know who's on the Council?"
The server shrugged. "They say they're all landowners. Don't think anyone rightly knows."
Alucius nodded. "Figured something like that. Thank you."
She offered a polite smile. "Let me know if you want another ale."
"I will."
The fowl was good, as were the plain noodles and bread that came with it, although Alucius's opinion of the fare might have been colored by his own hunger. Even before he finished the last morsels, he found his eyes were so heavy that he was almost nodding off at the table.
The food and the warmth of the public room—and the exhaustion of days—left clearly left Alucius feeling more than a little sleepy. He rose from the table and made his way up to his room.
The rifle remained where he had left it, and in addition to locking the door, he slipped the bar standing behind it through the painted iron brackets to make sure his sleep was not interrupted.
Then he sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled off his boots and disrobed slowly. He barely had pulled the covers up when sleep claimed him.
Chapter 131
Northeast of Iron Stem, Iron Valleys
« ^ »
In the early evening, the young man rode up the last part of the lane to the stead house, a second unsaddled mount following his. Long before he reached the rail at the base of the stairs, the older herder was standing there, bareheaded, with the intermittent flakes of spring snow swirling around him.
"Sir… I came as quick as I could."
"You talked to Alucius? You told him about Wendra?" asked Royalt.
"Yes, sir." Korcler swallowed. "He's gone now, too."
For a long moment, Royalt just looked at the youth.
"I didn't do it, sir. I didn't know what he was going to do."
"We'll stall the mounts, and then you can tell us. Did you tell your folks?"
"No, sir. I didn't stop there. They… they didn't want me to go to Dekhron. I figured… I'd better tell you, first. Might not be going anywhere for a long time, not after this. But I thought… someone… and now… it's worse 'n ever."
Royalt took the tether for the second mount and began to walk toward the stable. Korcler rode slowly after the older man. Neither spoke until they were in the stable and out of the wind.
"You didn't tell me your father had forbidden you to go to Dekhron," Royalt said after stalling the spare mount.
"He didn't say I couldn't, sir," Korcler replied. "I didn't ask. He would have said no. I knew that. And Alucius had to know about Wendra. He just had to."
Royalt took the saddle and racked it, then closed the stall. "We'll finish here after we go up to the house and you tell Lucenda and me everything that you know."
"Yes, sir."
Royalt closed the stable door and began to walk swiftly toward the house.
Korcler had to stretch his legs to catch up. "You're not mad at me, sir?"
"No, Korcler. I'm not mad. Things could be a lot better, but I'm not mad."
Once they were inside the dwelling, Royalt ushered the youth into the kitchen.
There, Lucenda set a mug of hot cider before him. "Have you eaten anything?"
"No… ma'am. Not except for some biscuits and cheese Majer Feran sent with me."
"I'll fix you something while you tell us what happened."
"Alucius is gone now, too," Royalt said.
"How… ?" Lucenda's mouth opened.
"I told him about Wendra. I gave him what you wrote, sir, and he read it. He turned real coldlike. I almost didn't want to talk to him. Then he helped me stable and groom the mounts and took me up to his quarters and gave me stuff to eat. He wrote something to Majer Feran. I knew he was writing something. Then he rode off. He wouldn't let me come with him. He said he'd be back that night." The young man paused. "Except then… he said if he wasn't, I was still to come back and tell you, sir." The youth's look was almost defiant, but his eyes skittered away from Royalt.
"He's gone after Wendra," Lucenda said. "It has to be. She's the only thing that would make him d
o that. But… how does he know where she is?"
"I… I don't think he does, ma'am," Korcler said. "He told me he couldn't tell me where he was going because he didn't know."
"It has to be something to do with Tarolt." Royalt frowned.
"That's it," Korcler said.
"What do you mean, young fellow?" asked Royalt.
"Well… he didn't come back. Even the next morning. So I went and found Majer Feran and told him. Alucius left him a note. I don't know what it said. The majer said it was Guard business, but then he sort of smiled, and asked me if the colonel had mentioned the name Tarolt. I told him he hadn't and asked who that was. He said he was a trader, and the only one of the old traders left after Halanat's death. Maybe I should have asked more, but that was all he said."
"He said Halanat was dead?"
"Yes, sir. Clear as could be."
"So Alucius thinks Tarolt had something to do with this," mused Royalt. "But he's vanished, too."
"Yes, sir."
"He's alive."
"He said Wendra was alive and healthy. He said whatever it was happened in the morning, but he didn't know what it was."
"He didn't tell you where he was going?"
"No, sir."
"This won't do Alucius much good as colonel," said Lucenda.
"The majer said that everyone knew sometimes the colonel went off and did things for the Lord-Protector, and he'd suggest that was what happened." Korcler took another swallow of the cider.
"Can't purchase friends like that," offered Royalt. "Feran's putting his head on the block and hoping no one's nearby with an axe."
"I'm sorry, sir," Korcler said. "Didn't know as I'd be… causing trouble. I just know… he'd want to know about Wendra. He would."
Both Lucenda and Royalt nodded.
Chapter 132
Corean Chronicles 3 - Scepters Page 59
