“There’s some form of logic there, you have to admit.”
“All of this, then—the League, the resistance—you do it in the hope to marry her?”
“I suppose you could say that.”
“Why are the others here?” Kora asked.
“Well, Menikas…. Menikas wants revenge, seeing Zalski killed our parents and destroyed our lives. The same goes for Laskenay. She was raised in Podrar as well. We’re all of noble birth, the three of us and Neslan.”
Kora’s mouth dropped. “Nobles? I wouldn’t have thought that, not about one of you.”
Lanokas smiled. “Not by the way we speak?”
“I hardly marked a word anyone’s said all day. My nerves are, are entirely on end.”
“I’m sure the traces of our past have grown subtle over time. We’ve made a conscious effort to blend in with the masses. Bennie, now, that girl hasn’t a drop of noble blood in her. She’s no personal score to settle with Zalski either. She does have the most developed sense of duty I’ve ever seen. I don’t think she could live with herself if she did nothing to fight back, and she’s quite devoted to the Giver, that one. Don’t get her started on spiritual topics unless you’re ready for an earful.
“Neslan’s grudge against Zalski is somewhat different. Neslan had a magicked sister. She rearranged wood molecules with touch, but died ten years ago, fell ill when the royals still had power. Obviously, Neslan never forgot her. He joined a group that fought to change the people’s views on magic by promoting tolerance. Nothing violent: petitions, speeches, exhibitions, that sort of thing. Zalski supported them with funding, but never attended events. He never let anyone know he was a sorcerer, not a soul. His father was too well-known.”
“The king’s adviser,” said Kora. “Then why…. What’s Neslan doing in the League? If the right to practice magic’s so important to him, shouldn’t he—I can’t believe I’m saying this—shouldn’t he admire Zalski?”
“Many of his old crowd do. They’re glad someone with magic has the throne, so much so they turn a blind eye to Zalski’s crimes. Neslan, thankfully, learned somewhere to think for himself, and claims Zalski’s done more to hurt the cause of magic than to aid it. You can’t deny relations between magic and non-magic society are tenser than ever. So Neslan came with me. He never did think power of any kind should be abused.”
“And the bald one? Ranler?”
“Ah…. His is an interesting story. He’s a huge asset to the League, tremendous. He used to be a cat burglar.”
Kora’s muscles tensed. “He’s a thief?”
“Not a common one. Nothing like the scum you say killed your father. Ranler has a unique set of values, I admit it, but he’s a decent human being. He never killed. In the king’s time, he went to prison when he was seen and neglected to silence the witness. That’s where he was during the coup, prison. He got out when Zalski offered convicts their freedom if they joined the army. Deserted right away.”
“How do you know that’s not a crock of lies?”
“I’ve had it verified. Listen, I understand why you don’t like thieves. Hell, if I were part of your family, I’d personally hunt the animals that slew my father, but you should give Ranler a chance. He’s not that breed. He’s loyal. Indispensable, is what he is. He gets us into buildings. We draw on his connections for funds, for weapons. The criminal sector’s not too fond of Zalski. His soldiers are merciless.”
Kora changed the subject. “What about Kansten?” she asked. “Maybe you missed it, but she didn’t seem too pleased with me.”
Lanokas laughed. “She resents you’re in Laskenay’s good graces. Her entry in the League wasn’t quite as smooth as yours.”
“What happened?”
“She tends to be contumacious.”
Kora blinked. “Contumacious?”
“She resists authority. Those who don’t annoy her. Oh, she’ll tolerate leadership of a type, to a point, but it sits ill with her. She’ll take Laskenay over Zalski, that’s what it comes down to. The lesser of two evils. She’s good in a pinch, though, I’ll say that for her. She’s got a brain, and she uses it.”
“Is this the whole League? The seven of you? It can’t possibly be so small.”
“We’re the League’s elite, I guess you’d say. We’re the founding members, or we’ve useful skills we’ve proven in tough moments. Many others took the oath you swore tonight. Some can live in open society. They’re useful. We have a spy in the elite guard. He’s more useful still. It was he who discovered that Zalski was sending men here.”
Kora shivered. “I can’t imagine being a spy.”
“I’m sure it isn’t easy,” Lanokas told her, and yawned.
“What’s the elite guard?” she asked.
“Zalski’s most capable and loyal men. They do what he tells them. They’re not exactly part of the army, so they don’t answer to the general. They serve under a separate captain. You’ve heard of Zalski’s wife?”
“The whole kingdom’s heard of Malzin. Of what she can do. The League made sure to get the word out.”
“That’s who attacked us today, Malzin’s elite guard. I recognized one of them. They get their start in the army, no exceptions.”
“Why were they wearing army uniforms?”
“To blend in with the soldiers stationed here. Zalski wants their mission hushed, whatever it is. They normally wear blue.” Lanokas yawned again.
“You look exhausted,” said Kora.
“I’m not the only one,” said Lanokas. He drained his glass. “You, however, don’t have guard duty. Go rest, Kora. Or try to. It’ll do you good.”
Kora went to push herself up from the ground, and recoiled as she touched a puddle of water, spilled from the pitcher when Lanokas poured her glass. For an instant she thought it was blood, from Zacry’s throat. Never had her dreams been that vivid.
“It’ll make no difference, I’m afraid. Thanks, though, for the chat. Listen, about tomorrow….”
“Don’t worry about any raid. Try to rest.”
“About today, then: could the elite guard have posed as lieutenants? To move the jewels in that coal?”
“How should I know?”
“But Lanokas….”
“Nope. We’re done talking. Get some sleep.”
Kora grabbed her orange bandana and crept back to the women’s chamber. Her head was spinning with all Lanokas had told her, and with what he refused to discuss. She slipped back beneath her blanket, but did not bother to shut her eyes.
* * *
The next morning was pure chaos. Everyone was grabbing wigs and weapons, rushing to get on the move. Laskenay was one of the first dressed; she wore a tunic again, and her hunter’s hat to hide her hair. The others were still squabbling over wigs when Kora saw her exit the cave.
“You could wear this one,” Bendelof suggested to Kansten. “It’ll fit you fine.”
“That’s a man’s wig!” cried the blonde.
“There are women with hair that short.”
“Yes, prostitutes! Neslan, you want it?”
“His hair’s too thick,” said Bendelof.
Kora caught Laskenay when she came back in about twenty minutes. She was glad to see her; to nurse unease was more difficult with Laskenay around. The woman oozed collectedness from every pore. She smiled at Kora, and the new recruit asked where she’d gone.
“To buy two horses from the man who farms these hills. You and Sedder need mounts…. And you should decide on a wig.”
“You think I can wear one?”
“Pin your hair flat at the base of your neck. Turn it under. You’d make a nice redhead, Kora.”
Kora did as Laskenay suggested, though she made sure to sneak off to an empty cavern first; she wanted no one to see the ruby.
The wig she selected was long, straight, and vibrant red, just as red as Bendelof’s natural hair. After Kora set it on her head, amazed at how it itched, she put her orange wrap back on and went to grab fab
ric of a different color.
Bennie went brunette for the day, and Kansten chose a wig a shade or two darker, and much longer, than her actual blonde locks. Menikas’s hair turned black; it made his skin look pale. Lanokas wear no wig at all, but a hat similar to Laskenay’s. So did Neslan. Ranler was the only Leaguesman who did nothing to change his appearance.
“Hey you,” Sedder greeted Kora. Her jaw nearly dropped to look at him. He was in a shorn brown male’s wig, a different style from the one the day before, and he looked…. He looked nice. Elegant. Longer hair brought out his eyes, and made his cheekbones more pronounced. He drew her aside.
“Don’t forget about that shield you summoned yesterday. Use it if you need it.”
“I will,” said Kora.
“Be careful,” Sedder told her. “And change that bandana, it looks awful.”
“That’s why I came back in here. What do you think? Blue?”
“Brown,” said Sedder. He handed Kora a length of cloth. She had never seen his lips so thin.
“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “The League knows my limitations. I talked to them yesterday, when you were off with Bennie. Look, Sedder, I’m taking this dead seriously.”
Immediately, Kora regretted her choice of phrasing. A shade of color faded from Sedder’s cheeks, and he said, “You’re the most responsible person I know. I trust you won’t do something stupid, but that doesn’t guarantee…. Just be careful, all right?”
Kora took him by surprise in a loose, one-armed embrace. “You already told me that. I’ll be careful, I promise. But what about you? Take care of yourself. I expect you to be waiting when my group gets to Yangerton.”
* * *
Noon had nearly arrived when Kora, Menikas, Lanokas, and Ranler drew within sight of the makeshift base. The elite guard had requisitioned an old farmhouse past the hills, one almost falling apart. The roof was missing shingles and the walls’ brown paint was flaking off, revealing a blackened white coat beneath. “There shouldn’t be many men here,” Menikas whispered. “They’re out looking for Kora. Which is why,” he tossed as an afterthought, “she really shouldn’t be here.”
Lanokas said, “She is here, so let it be.”
Kora felt her resolve wane. The crossbow she held ready fell to her side. She knew her voice was weak, but could not strengthen it. “I didn’t ask to come. I was told to. Laskenay told me to, and you agreed.”
Menikas countered, “I agreed too soon. The guards will want nothing more than for you to make their lives easier by paying them a call. You know what they think you are?”
Kora adjusted her bandana. Lanokas glanced worriedly at Ranler, and told his brother, “Let it be. We’ve a job to do. She’s been no liability up to this point, has she?”
If the conversation confused Ranler, or piqued his curiosity, the man kept his reaction to himself. He seemed nothing but anxious to move on, and whispered for the brothers and Kora to follow him.
They crept down low, following the path that gave the most cover, moving through overgrown weeds. The most direct route it was not, but the safest, yes, assuming they met no snakes in the growth; Kora tried not to think about snakes. When they reached the last stretch of land, they were facing the back of the house Zalski’s men had commandeered. The closest wall had a barred door and two square windows, large ones, one of which held broken panes.
“That’s our in,” said Ranler.
They had one last stretch of grass to cross, grass tall enough to hide them if they crawled. Kora went last. She felt awkward clasping a crossbow, forcing herself onward with her elbows, but exhilarated as well. She succeeded in forgetting the snakes; no panic gripped her heart. She found she was alert and thinking clearly, two things she never accomplished when frightened. Maybe, she thought, she was cut out for this work after all.
The going was slow. Ranler led the group, but when they neared the house he let the brothers overtake him, and after what felt like hours the four Leaguesmen reached the broken window. Soundlessly, Lanokas and Menikas took stations on either side of it. Kora was far enough off that glancing up she could see two men in uniform, black uniform, sitting at a table with books, stray pieces of parchment, and two iron candlesticks. Lanokas looked at her and mouthed, “How many?” Kora held up two fingers.
Menikas dared a glance inside; the guardsmen kept to their work, flipping pages, taking the occasional note. After a second he drew back and signaled Lanokas. At Kora’s nod, both nobles peered in as Menikas had done before and waved their hands. The candlesticks lifted off the table and collided, with a sickening thud, with the soldiers’ skulls, giving them no time to cry out. One slumped forward on the table, while the other toppled sideways. The candlesticks dropped with a clang.
Lanokas jumped through the window. The others followed. Kora noticed, with mixed emotion, that the guardsmen’s chests were rising and falling evenly. Would the League finish them off? Would Menikas order Kora to? She couldn’t, she wouldn’t…. But what if the men…?
“They might come to,” Ranler barked. “Tie them up.” Lanokas had ten feet of rope at his side and cut off some stretches for Kora, who tied the man still sitting in his chair. She bound his wrists, praying the task might be a sign no one would kill him. Why trouble with rope and knots if they meant to slit his throat?
Kora moved on to his ankles; one was missing. An elite guardsman with a wooden leg? No wonder he was here and not part of the hunt. She tied his ankle to the false limb and then his upper body to the chair back. To look at him made her nauseated, but she could not pull her eyes away.
She studied his face. He had thick gray hair, matted with blood where the candlestick had struck him above the temple, and a silver goatee that looked dull against his uniform’s fresh black dye. He had seen some action in his day, as scars peppered his right cheek and ran down his arm.
In the meantime, Menikas had helped Ranler hoist the other man back up, so Lanokas could bind him. They had only just finished when another guardsman entered, attracted by the noise.
Kora could tell at once why he was one of the elite guard. He held his sword ready and reacted immediately when Ranler shot an arrow, dodging the projectile by flying straight up. He hovered for a second, taking in the scene.
Kora aimed the crossbow she had lugged through the fields. The guardsman, who was twice her size, lunged at her from six feet up before the brothers’ magic hurled him back against a bookshelf, the only one present. The piece of furniture collapsed, sending planks of wood and piles of tomes crashing down on him. Menikas guarded the door while the others dug the soldier out. When they reached him, Ranler felt his neck for a pulse.
“No need to tie up this one. We can use his sword, though,” and the thief pulled the blade from the pile.
The head of the League said, “I’ll search the house, with Ranler, make sure there’s no one else. You two stay here and find out what Zalski’s after. We’ll knock along the wall when we head back.”
Kora scanned the room she stood in, her companions’ footsteps ringing in her ears. The place was completely derelict. Rot had set into the floorboards, and two wooden posts that supported the ceiling had splits and grooves. The only furniture beside the table and chairs was the wreckage of what used to be the shelf.
Lanokas went through the pile of books, while Kora set eyes on the table. She set down her crossbow and grabbed the parchment one of the guards had been writing on. It was a list of places in the area, most of which had substantial collections of antiques: the Hogarane Museum, the Duke of Hornsby’s old vacation home, a number of little shops scattered throughout the village. Some had lines drawn through them, wet lines. Kora started when her gaze fell across the word “riverbank” printed in a plain, masculine script. Someone had struck it through.
She said, “Whatever they’re after, it’s old. It looks like they’re doing a pretty thorough search.”
“Look at these books,” said Lanokas. He held up random tomes he had not yet exam
ined, reading the titles as he went. “A History of Sorcery. Spellbooks of the Ancients. The Book of the Book: the Librette Oscure.” His face went dark. “Zalski can’t be…. Not the Librette!”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Librette Oscure. The most famous spellbook ever written. A dark sorcerer, a Hansrelto, composed it centuries ago. Tell me you’ve heard….”
“I’ve heard of Hansrelto’s revolt. Just not the book.”
“Rumor says it has the worst spells known to man, but no one’s sure. It disappeared after his revolt, or before, to be more accurate. He took no chance of his enemy taking it. If Zalski gets his hands on it….”
“He’d be unstoppable, utterly unstoppable.” Kora grabbed The Book of the Book from Lanokas. It was a leather-bound tome. “We should take this,” she said. “And you should keep your hands free.”
Kora leafed though the manuscript, placing it on the table. The ink was faded, hardly legible. Then she found a page with the corner turned down.
“They marked this section, look….”
“Read it.”
“‘Before his revolt, Hansrelto is believed not only to have hidden his book, but to have placed a powerful enchantment over it, so that only one worthy of its secrets would discover it. If legend holds true, the Librette Oscure alters its shape and form, waiting in disguise for its future rightful owner, who alone will recognize it for what it is.’”
She fell silent. The same heavy footsteps that had earlier faded now sounded again down the hall, mixed with crisp knocks.
Menikas announced upon his entry, “We found nothing. Well, no one. We picked up a list of names, and I recognize some. They’re all dead.”
“How about here?” asked Ranler.
Lanokas told his brother, “Zalski’s after the Librette.”
Menikas turned white. “He can’t be.”
“Wilhem said this was something big.”
“Come on,” said Kora. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“Should we leave an arrow?” asked Lanokas. “Let them know to whom they owe the pleasure?”
The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 6
