by Susan Grant
Markam stood then, picking up his helmet and preparing to depart. He locked hands with Tao in a farewell gesture. “Nor could I live with your blood on my hands. Xim believes the rumors that you were spotted slaying Gorr outside the ghetto. He’s feeling more and more threatened. His imprisonment of Aza is proof. My friend, the king wants you dead. My influence is tenuous. As today’s events have proven, do not expect you can rely on me for an early warning.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SUNLIGHT SWIFTLY RETREATED from the streets of Tassagonia, replaced by shadows and moonlight. On a balcony overlooking Palace Square, with his two highest-ranking officers in attendance, but not his queen, King Xim stepped forward to address the Tassagon populace.
The square hadn’t been this crowded since General Uhr-Tao’s homecoming. With one difference, Markam thought. This evening the citizens of Tassagonia had gathered under the threat of arrest if they did not attend the speech. Beck’s men had gone door to door, ordering all those not too sick or too old out into the night.
Not everyone was so easily coerced. As Markam had planned, one wagonload of dissenters had been carried to the palace stockade, which kept attention diverted from the raid now being launched from the palace dungeons, nearly a hundred feet beneath the king’s platform.
Xim’s voice rang out. “K-Town is infested—with Gorr and with Gorr sympathizers. The curfew has not kept us safe from such threats. Thus, the curfew will end, and Kurel Town will be sealed off around-the-clock until we have rid our city of the threats facing us. But fear not, my subjects. General Uhr-Beck’s Domestic Defense Army will enforce the closure. Rest assured, these courageous guardians will keep you safe.”
Domestic Defense Army? Pure, undiluted Beck. Xim would never have thought of it.
It took all Markam’s self-discipline to hide his disdain as he glanced over at Beck. With stars freshly sewn on his epaulets, the bastard listened to the speech while making a show of flexing his arms over his chest, dishonoring their uniform once again by rolling up his sleeves.
The man could posture and preen all he wanted as long as he remained ignorant of what was transpiring many stories below. Markam willed Tao to hurry. Get in and get out, with my Aza safe in your hands. The queen couldn’t escape soon enough. This charade had become an almost impossible balancing act, one he would not be able to sustain much longer.
“The foreigners who live amongst us have weakened us from the inside out,” Xim continued. “No more. I will allow a few, specially screened Kurel to apply for extended-stay permits. All others will be exiled forevermore. Tassagonia will once again be for Tassagons!”
Subdued applause and some scattered cheers met the king’s proclamation. The impression that Kurel practiced sorcery persisted, of course, but after witnessing the ghetto dwellers defend the city from the Gorr, after actually seeing the monsters that were the human race’s mortal enemy, Tassagons were now more inclined to build a relationship with the Kurel than sever it. But General Uhr-Beck had assigned soldiers to “work the crowd.” Nothing like the sight of a sharp blade to spur a man or woman into pretending enthusiasm.
Or a bottle of wine to dull a man’s senses. “After this,” Markam said out the corner of his mouth to Beck, “let us raise glasses in a toast to your promotion.” Many glasses. Until Beck was falling-down drunk, Xim right along with him. So they’d miss what was happening under their noses—or rather, who was disappearing. By Uhrth, the queen and her children would be safe from this madness by morn.
“And so we shall.” Beck’s hand landed hard on Markam’s shoulder. “A toast, my comrade. To new beginnings.”
ELSABETH NEVER KNEW excitement and mortal terror could exist so compatibly side by side until she set foot in the foul and cold pipes with Tao and Navi. Was this how Tao felt each time he marched into battle? Mercy. And he’d repeated the act, an act of courage, over and over. He was a hero. More than that, he was her hero.
With disparate emotions coursing through her, she dove forward into the deep, stinking darkness.
Only the sounds of their breaths and boots splashing through muck accompanied their progress. There was no need for words. Everything had already been briefed and briefed again. Tao was meticulous about the details of the raid, from the disguises that would turn the men into guards and her into a kitchen wench, to the exit point they’d use to slip inside the palace via the dungeon, guarded tonight by Markam’s handpicked men.
Still, before they had even lowered the grate at the loading docks to set foot inside the spillway, and before they had left Chun sitting on the driver’s bench of the same wagon they’d used the first time they’d sneaked into the palace, Tao had asked her, “Have I missed anything? Is there anything you see that isn’t as it should be?”
“No,” she’d assured him, her hand resting briefly on his chest, over his pounding heart. His good and brave heart. “Now let’s go get your family out.”
With Chun, they exchanged nods of luck and hope and everything else good that a silent gesture could hold. Then they pulled the grate up behind them, leaving behind the physician, who looked convincing as a drowsy merchant waiting for his wagon to be loaded. No one would notice the bow and a quiver of arrows hidden under his coat, or the blade in his belt, but they’d certainly learn of the weapons if they tried to attack. This time around, the good doctor had more than a scalpel with which to defend against attackers.
So did they all.
She and Navi carried blades for self-defense. Tao was armed with the crossbow, a spear, two blades, one long and one short, and Uhrth knew how many other tools to maim and kill. For all her protestations against violence, she’d always had a distinct lack of remorse at the thought of using it against Xim. But tonight, she hoped no confrontations forced them to do so. Aza and her children’s safe passage out of the palace was their goal. This was not the night to end Xim’s reign.
Ahead was the confluence of pipes where Navi had slipped into the moat, causing Tao to dive in after him. Elsabeth shivered, smelling the dank stench of the water and knowing better than she ever had the deadly nature of the monsters swimming beneath its surface. “Take it slowly,” she warned Navi in a loud whisper, seeing his bobbing lantern up ahead.
“Beth, if I were moving any slower, I’d be sitting,” he reassured her.
“If you fall in, you’re swimming to shore on your own this time,” Tao said, and Elsabeth could hear the humor in his voice.
The truth of it was they were a team. They’d come here together, and they’d leave together. No matter what.
“THEY LIKED TAO MUCH better,” Xim complained to Beck over goblets of red wine. It was the most expensive vintage in the cellars, worthy of a celebration…like victory over the Gorr, or ridding the kingdom of its Kurel parasites. Unfortunately, Xim couldn’t seem to work up enough levity to suit the occasion.
Markam’s glass sat partially drained, his chair empty. The man was off again on his incessant rounds. He never seemed to rest. I’ll have to drink enough for the two of us. It would mute the anger that continued to make his insides burn. “They were falling all over themselves for Tao. When they cheered that bastard, we could hardly hear ourselves think.”
Beck leaned forward, his weight on his elbows, his elbows on the table. “You had to broach serious topics, My Liege. Something like that doesn’t invoke a giddy response.”
“True, true.” Tao had been given the easier task. Of course. Still, it didn’t make Xim feel much better. His entire life, no matter what he did, Tao had appeared out of nowhere to do it better. Xim was glad he’d confined Aza, lest Tao find her and influence her against her own husband.
He drank more wine, splashing some on his brocade jacket. Irritably, he dashed the droplets away and gulped down another swallow. “I want him dead, Beck. I’ve done everything you have advised—promoted you to general, given you an army, for Uhrth’s sake! And still, Tao runs free. Taunting me with his very existence. I’m sick of it.” He shook a fist at
Beck. “I had him in my hands, and he slipped away.” He opened his fist, spreading his fingers, and then plunged them through his hair. “Out the dungeon of all places, Beck, the part of this fortress that should be unquestioningly secure. It’s embarrassing.”
“It was indeed embarrassing, My Liege, but not for you. The breach was the responsibility of your commander of the Palace Guard. As far as we know, the security of this palace may still be unsatisfactory.”
Xim shifted his gaze from Beck to Markam’s goblet of unfinished wine. Half done, just as the palace’s security inspections had been. Xim didn’t want to lose faith in Markam; he truly didn’t. Markam was a good man—likable, efficient and, most of all, soothing, which was a quality Xim valued above most others. Markam had long been a salve for his constantly jumpy nerves—rather like Aza. But he’d also learned the consequences of too much trust. It was awful being let down.
“Markam did discover how Tao escaped the palace,” Xim reasoned, and hoped his sudden dread wouldn’t bloom into something bigger and more horrible.
Markam is friends with Tao. What if his loyalty is with him, not me? Doubt filled his chest with as much chill as winter fog. But, of course Markam knew Tao, but he hadn’t known him any longer than he’d known Xim. All of them had grown up together, had known each other for years. More, Markam was the kind of man who had always placed palace affairs first.
Or had he? Xim’s stomach did a nervous flip. His nerves jangled. “Won’t he have seen to plugging the holes since the escape?” he asked Beck almost plaintively.
“Who was in charge of the repairs?”
“He was.”
“There’s your answer, My Liege. We don’t know.” Beck pushed to his feet. “It seems the good colonel’s nightly rounds don’t necessarily include a thorough security inspection. Luckily, you have me to back him up.”
“Yes, yes. Go. Double-check his work. Tell me if you find anything lacking.”
Beck arched the brow over his good eye. “As you wish, My Liege.”
The dining hall was suddenly huge and cavernous without Beck there to help fill the void. Again, I am alone. Xim snapped his fingers for a servant to refill his goblet, but he had the feeling drinking was futile. It would take more than wine to numb his growing anxiety. He did not feel safe in his own palace. No, not at all. He shivered. Aza, I need you. Oh, did he ever! Why was he sitting here, alone, when he could be with his wife? The fur cape around his shoulders was a poor substitute for her warm arms. He’d go to her and spend the night in her bed. Yes, and she’d comfort him as she always did.
BACK TO THE DUNGEON—but voluntarily this time, Tao thought, supporting the grate as Navi unscrewed it and together they lowered the heavy iron slowly to minimize noise. Tao slid the lantern into the passage to the dungeon with his foot. After a look and listen convinced him it was clear, he pressed a finger to his lips and motioned Elsabeth forward, then Navi. Tao helped Navi lift the grate back into position as silently as possible, leaving it unscrewed.
Hunched over, they ran along the passage until the basket containing their disguises came into view in the circle of light thrown by the lantern. There were two guard uniforms, a servant’s ware for Elsabeth and a bag that contained more servant ware, disguises for Aza and the children. Good man, Markam.
Now, dressed as a pair of guards and a kitchen wench, they grabbed their standard military bows and proceeded ahead. Once out of the passage they could run comfortably.
The stink was eye-watering as they passed the empty cells. Ahead, the tall stone staircase led to the palace’s higher floors. “There are three doors. Each is guarded and locked. Usually. But not tonight.” He hefted his crossbow and took the stairs to the first door. “Flat against the wall,” he told her and Navi. Once their backs were pressed to the stones, he shouldered open the first door. A hard knot inside him eased a little. No locked door, no unhappily surprised guard.
The process repeated uneventfully and reassuringly for each of the next two doors. All of them unlocked. All of them unguarded. Markam had always been scrupulously well organized, sometimes to the point of obsession. But this was one of those times Tao was grateful for his friend’s extreme attention to detail.
Tao turned to his unlikely raiders. “We go directly to the queen’s chambers, gather her and the children and escort them out. Elsabeth, on the way in, you’re simply a servant seeing to the queen’s needs.” She carried the satchel Markam had provided to hide the disguises for Aza and the children. The sack was richly embroidered and fit for royalty, making her ruse all the more convincing. “Navi and I are two guards on escort duty.”
Navi’s nod was both nervous and earnest. Tao remembered what it felt like as a boy being called upon to do brave deeds. He took hold of Navi’s shoulder and gave him a firm, steadying squeeze. “You’re going to do well, young man.”
Navi smiled. “I won’t disappoint you, General Tao.”
Tao turned to Elsabeth. Her achingly lovely gaze looked up at him from under her bonnet. It had never felt this wrenching, poised on the threshold of a raid.
Because your heart was never involved.
He tucked in the few strands of her brilliantly colored hair that weren’t hidden as deeply under the bonnet as he’d have liked. Normally this was the time he’d offer his men a few fortifying words of wisdom and hope. But the protectiveness surging inside him for Elsabeth left him at a loss for words.
Her lips eased into a hint of a smile, as if she’d guessed the reason for his silence. Then she shook her head, telling him nothing more needed to be said that hadn’t been already.
He touched his palm to her cheek, let it linger there for a heartbeat, then turned away, lest his lover’s eyes charmed him and caused him to be frozen in place.
He and Navi donned their helmets before Tao opened the last door and let them into the palace.
“Walk,” he told Elsabeth in a curt, all-business tone. She was now under his escort, and several rungs below a guard on the social ladder.
Nary a glance came their way as they traveled toward the queen’s apartments. They walked swiftly enough not to waste what little time they had, but not fast enough to attract notice. In the expansive central foyer, a tile mosaic depicting achievements of the kings and queens over the years covered the floor. It wasn’t his imagination that Elsabeth’s shoe landed dead-on the likeness of Xim wielding a warrior’s broadsword, something Tao doubted the man could lift off the floor, let alone raise above his waist. Each portrayal of Xim was similarly desecrated as they walked over it, the one in the very center given an extra turn of her toe, as if to grind in her hatred of the king.
As long as she expressed her loathing symbolically while in the palace, he wasn’t worried. Just don’t kill the man if we happen to cross paths. He’d made a career of leading battle-hungry soldiers; he’d just never predicted his woman would be one of them.
As they turned toward the corridor leading to the private area of the palace, an ear-splitting horn jarred them all out of step. He thrust out an arm, stopping Elsabeth, turning to see what was happening.
“To your stations!” a sergeant of the guard bellowed. “To your stations!”
Guards were running to their posts. Had their presence been discovered? Had someone found the unlocked grate below? Remote, but still possible. He immediately calculated how much time they’d need to get Aza to their alternate exit points, the spillway entrance through the kitchens or, failing that, through the wine cellars.
Adrenaline poured into Tao’s veins. Navi’s throat bobbed, but he kept up his guard’s stance, thank Uhrth, although he drilled Tao with a look that begged directions. Elsabeth had gone pale, but didn’t stick out for doing so; any servant would have been alarmed in such a situation. But, within a moment, Tao and Navi were the only guards left.
They’d soon draw notice for not being where they were supposed to be. His mind calmly sorted through all options. There were many places to hide—alcoves, little-traveled p
assages.
Tao squared his shoulders. “Keep walking. With purpose. We’re not turning back.” Not yet.
They started toward Aza’s chambers.
“You! Halt.”
Tao instantly recognized that familiar raspy yell—damn it to hell. Uhr-Beck.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
BECK WORE GENERAL’S STARS on his shoulders and gripped a loaded crossbow. Two guards accompanied him, men unfamiliar to Tao. Elsabeth was standing very still off to the side, but her hands, wrapped together and pressed to the waist of her dress, were trembling. Tao would do anything in that moment to see her safe, including giving up his life.
“Why aren’t you two fools at your posts?” Beck snarled as he approached.
Then he drew up short, shock breaking his stride as Tao marked the moment Beck recognized him. A look of utter hatred drained all hint of humanity out of that one, narrowed, brown eye.
Beck aimed his bow at Tao.
Everything crystallized in that moment, sounds fading away, the scene before Tao in perfect focus, tunneling to the bow and the man behind it. He’d faced near-certain death more than a few times in war, but never did he feel the utter futility, the senselessness, of what was about to happen: his own countryman sinking an arrow in his heart to settle an old score, with the tacit permission of their king.
The crashing of boots on stone broke the spell. “Why aren’t these men at their posts?” Markam strode up to them with his own pair of guards. Thank the arks. Tao swung his boot up in Beck’s blind spot and kicked the bow out of his hands. The weapon skittered across the stones.
Tao started to reach for his own bow when he heard the sounds of swords being unsheathed, and Markam’s voice. “Touch that weapon, Uhr-Tao, and it’ll be your last act on this world.”
