The Collapsing Path (The Narrowing Path Series Book 3)

by David J Normoyle

  “It’s not true,” Bowe said. “I already told you that was one of the stories that I’d prefer quashed.”

  Finshire spread his arms wide. “I have less control over all this than you think. You can’t change what people think of you.”

  “And what exactly is that?”

  “That’s a tough question. My impressions on what people think come second-hand via talking to my newsbards.”

  “Understood.” If anyone understood public opinion, it would be newswriters who stood at the center of news dissemination.

  “They are suspicious of you, the way you rose so high so fast. They also find you cold and distant. And though they feel that what happened in the Battle of Pots and Pans was a good thing, I think deep down, you are hated for it.”

  “Great.”

  “The other Guardians are thought of much worse, if that’s any consolation. Why do you care anyway? It’s bizarre that any ascor, never mind a Guardian, would care about the opinion of escay.”

  Bowe wasn’t sure exactly. It was true that the escay opinion had no effect on the ascor or the ascorim. But things could change. The Guild was getting more powerful. There could come a time where the opinion of the escay became extremely important.

  “Any other developments?” Bowe asked.

  “Do you want to talk about what happened in Drywell Square?”

  “If we have to.”

  “You know that Alandar is Jeniano’s biggest rival for the Raine guardianship?”

  “No.” Alandar as Raine Guardian would be a disaster for Bowe. He’d have two of those who hated him most as his biggest rivals.

  “As I understand it, the incident has damaged Alandar’s chances. He didn’t exactly show the cold and calculating face expected of a Guardian.”

  “He certainly didn’t.” Bowe remembered how the vein on Alandar’s temple had throbbed as he held his sword over Bowe’s head.

  “So that’s good news for you. The bad news is that there is a growing band of Raine and Lessard ascor who feel that you go too far too often. That you have gotten away with too much. It’s been hinted that the Bellanger family would prosper much more with Sorrin in charge.”

  “Sorrin as Bellanger Guardian,” Bowe mused. He didn’t think that his friend would try to take his position, but it was something he’d have to keep a close eye on. “Only some of the Raine and Lessard ascor?”

  “I didn’t mention the Greniers because it’s a given that the entire family would be in favor of such a move.”

  Bowe snorted. “Of course. Any other news?”

  “Nothing major, just the usual. At this time of year, people are more interested in what’s happening on the Path than the ascor scandals. Though one of yours might have gotten involved with a woman he shouldn’t.”

  “That would have to be Sindar. He’s always up to something.”

  “And there’s whisperings that your wife has strayed.”

  Finshire leaned forward, watching Bowe closely. Bowe was glad about the lack of light. His throat felt dry. “Zofila. There’s certainly no truth in that.”

  “Perhaps. There’s only vague rumblings so far, not enough to be true gossip. And often there’s a fair distance between gossip to truth. Just thought I’d let you know.”

  “Thanks. I better be going.” It seemed Finshire had little good news for him today, only bad. Where could the rumblings about Zofila have come from? They had been so careful.

  “How’s that boy of yours doing?” Finshire asked. “The one who stayed with me for a while when he was a Green.”

  “Oamir. He’s doing great. He’s very similar to yourself, except he writes with the lights on.”

  Finshire nodded and bent down to make a few notes in his ledger. Bowe hoped he wasn’t writing anything about Zofila—the old man was too sharp. He often came away from these meetings knowing more than Bowe meant him to.

  Outside, Toose was waiting. He was hatless, leaning against the side of the rickshaw for shade from the midday sun. He came to attention, opening the door of the rickshaw. Bowe stepped inside and sat down with a sigh.

  “Everything okay, Guardian?” Toose asked.

  Bowe was surprised by the question because Toose wasn’t one to exchange pleasantries much. Bowe was clearly giving away too much if even his marshals detected his disquiet. “I fear things will get worse before they get better.”

  Toose nodded, running a hand through the stubble of his cheeks and chin. “To be expected coming up to the Infernam, Guardian. Survive that and everything else will take care of itself.” He shut the doors and shouted at the pullers to move forward.

  Bowe settled back into the cushion seat. In some ways, it seemed ridiculous to worry about little things like rumors about Zofila’s infidelity when so many of Arcandis’s population had little chance of surviving the Infernam in just few short weeks.

  But Bowe couldn't help everyone; he had to take care of his own family first and foremost. If Stenesso managed to weaken the Bellanger family enough, then maybe the whisperings would change from talk about Sorrin being Guardian to suggestions that the Bellanger family wasn’t needed after all.

  Small weaknesses could morph into big problems later, when they’d be much harder to deal with. Good Guardians stayed ahead of the game, making subtle maneuvers at the right time to prevent later crises. Bowe’s namesake, the previous Bellanger Guardian, had let everything slip, and by the time anyone tried to get on top of the situation, it was a crisis beyond control.

  A thump sounded just above Bowe’s head, followed by a ripping sound. Bowe ducked as the roof of the rickshaw fell in. He managed to get his arms above his head. With the cloth pushing down on him, he shrank down to the floor. A lumpen weight bent his neck back. He tried to shove it off, but it kept falling back on top of him. Darkness surrounded him and panic clutched at Bowe’s throat. He scrabbled frantically at the cloth in front of him, and managed to force an opening, allowing light in. Breathing became easier.

  “Help!” he shouted out. “Toose?”

  “We’re coming.”

  Bowe widened the opening and a hand fell down onto his face. “Toose, what are you doing?”

  Bowe pushed the hand away but it flopped back into his face. Bowe’s eyes stung. He wiped them clear, then opened them to see blood trickle down the fingers of the hand. Bowe, horrified, turned his face away to stop the blood getting in his eyes again.

  The weight was lifted off him and the canvas rolled away.

  “This way, Guardian,” Toose said.

  Bowe was crouched into a ball with his face between his arms. He looked up to see Toose holding out his hand. He took the hand and Toose guided him out of the broken rickshaw. Bowe wiped his face with his tunic. It came away bloody. “What just happened?”

  “I’m very sorry, Guardian. We didn’t spot them until it was too late. They were up on that roof there when they threw it down.” Toose gestured at a roof terrace. Bowe recognized the tavern, the Last Stop, where he had watched the White Spider have a rival Green assassinated.

  “What did they throw?”

  “A body, Guardian. Should I get the men to try and find whoever did it?”

  “No point.” Bowe knew from experience that it was easy to evade pursuers from that terrace.

  “A body.” Bowe clutched at his tunic as he realized who it had to be. “Have you seen it, was it the body of a Green?”

  “I just got a brief look as we pulled it off you. He was young. It could have been a Green.”

  “Let me see it.” Bowe didn’t want to see Coinal’s accusing eyes, but he had to know for sure.

  “Over this side.”

  Toose led Bowe around to the other side of the rickshaw where the body of the boy was face down in the dirt. He had dark hair rather than blond. It wasn’t Coinal.

  Bowe bent down over the body, glad but confused. He turned the body over and recognized the dead boy instantly, despite the bruised and bloody state of the boy’s face. It was the one
who’d been with Coinal, the one who’d thrown the cloak that had tripped up Coinal. This boy had been Alandar’s target, not Coinal.

  And after what had happened in the square, Alandar wasn’t content to just kill him; he also had to send Bowe a message. The extra few days that this young person got to live due to Bowe’s intervention didn’t make up for the crueler death he’d suffered as a result.

  With a deep sadness, Bowe turned away from the needless death at his feet. It wasn’t just this one boy's death that hurt Bowe, though that was sad enough. It was that Bowe couldn’t even save a single boy from the Green Path, and that his attempt to do so had made things worse.

  Chapter 4

  39 Days Left

  Bowe's fingers drummed on the table. He wasn’t used to being made to wait. Especially not by his own ascor. Perhaps one of them could have been delayed but all of them together? Bowe stood up from his desk and exited out into the entrance hall.

  “Anyone around?” he shouted up the stairs.

  A servant poked her head out of the door of an upper floor bedroom. Quickly realizing that Bowe was looking for the ascor, she disappeared back inside.

  Bowe returned to the small hall and sat down again, looking accusingly at the empty chairs around the table. He had arrived customarily late—as befitting a Guardian—and instead of finding the Bellanger ascor with their feet on his table nattering away as usual, he’d found the room empty. The painting of the azure sun had a confused look on its face.

  Zofila wasn’t expected to attend and Bowe knew she was meeting with some of the other ascora, and Oamir often missed these regular Bellanger meetings, but Thrace, Sindar, and Sorrin had always been waiting when Bowe arrived. He tried to figure out what could have happened but nothing came to mind. He wasn’t sure how worried he should be. Finally, footsteps approached the door, and Bowe stood up as the handle turned and the door opened.

  “There you are,” Oamir said. “Bet you can’t tell me the length of tunnels in the Refuge or the amount of food needed each year to last everyone for the full two weeks of the Infernam.”

  “Do you know where the other ascor are?”

  As usual, Oamir ignored Bowe’s question and continued talking about the subject that was on his mind. “No, of course you don’t. You know who else doesn’t know? Everybody.”

  Bowe wanted to ask about the other ascor again, but what Oamir had just said caught his attention. “Surely someone must know how much food is needed. Everyone would starve otherwise.”

  “That’s not how it works.” Oamir had a big smile on his face, delighted by his new knowledge. “There’s no one person making sure that the stock and livestock are taken care of, and that enough food and water is brought to feed everyone in the Refuge. Rather, each village knows how much food it is expected to supply. And each great house knows its own quota of people to allow into the Refuge to ensure it doesn’t become overcrowded.”

  Bowe had asked Sorrin and Oamir to look into making sure that the Refuge was supplied after Stenesso had confronted Bowe about that at the meeting of Guardians. “Sounds a bit risky to just have to assume everything just works out.”

  “Not really,” Oamir said. “Many things happen in a similar way. For example, no one has to tell the farmers what crops to sow or when. And, of course, if the farmers didn’t sow, or sowed too little, it would be a disaster. But that never happens. Sowing enough crops is just part of the natural cycle. Unless there’s a famine or a war in the countryside, there’s no reason for anything to go wrong.”

  “And no one would be stupid enough to go to war during the Infernam.” Bowe remembered Stenesso saying that the Guild was growing in strength. If they had something planned, the escay rebels would surely wait until after the Infernam was over. “So it seems like the job I gave you and Sorrin will be much easier than I expected. You don’t have to do any more.” Stenesso obviously had known that nothing special had to be done to prepare the Refuge. He had just wanted to embarrass Bowe.

  Oamir frowned. “But I want to keep exploring how everything works inside the Refuge. No one knows, you see.”

  “But you said no one has to know.”

  “But if I write it down, then the information will be available for future generations.”

  “To what purpose?”

  “Just to know.”

  “If you want.” Bowe didn’t see the point of knowledge that couldn’t be used to gain some present or future advantage, but he was well aware that Oamir’s mind worked differently than his. “Now are you sure you have no id—”

  Thrace burst in the door. “Have you heard?”

  “Where were you?” Bowe asked. “Our meeting was supposed to start ages ago. Oamir’s the only one who bothered to turn up.”

  “The family meeting was today?” Oamir asked.

  Bowe sighed. “Even if he did it by accident.”

  “Have you heard the news. I was meeting some of the Greenettes at one of the tea rooms off Drywell Square when the newsbard interrupted us,” Thrace said.

  “What happened?” Bowe asked.

  “The escay leader, you know the one in the wheelchair.”

  “The Guild leader?” Bowe asked.

  “I guess the Guild has gotten too big to just pretend it doesn’t exist. Yes, the Guild leader. The Grenier marshals captured him.” Thrace pulled back the nearest chair and sat down. “You didn’t know? According to the reports, you were heavily involved in his capture.”

  “Me? No.” He hadn’t had any contact with Coensaw in three years.

  “That’s what is being reported. The Grenier marshals, acting on information given to them by the Bellanger Guardian, discovered this escay rebel hiding in some hovel and arrested him. He has been taken to the Fortress.”

  Bowe shook his head, denying his involvement and trying to figure out what it meant. “Stenesso must have discovered this Guild leader himself. Why would he give me credit?”

  “I think I know what it means.” Bowe swiveled around at the new voice, finding Sorrin limping in through the other entrance. “You said that Stenesso wanted you to take an active role in hunting down the Guild members and rooting it from Arcandis once and for all.”

  “Now you decided to turn up,” Bowe said. At least the Bellanger ascor were finally gathering. Only Sindar left.

  “Kirande had something important to show me.”

  “And that was?”

  “He took me to the Fortress.”

  “You saw the Guild leader?” Thrace asked.

  “I did,” Sorrin said, “when I was leaving. But that wasn’t whom Kirande brought me to see. “It was Sindar.”

  “Sindar? Sindar’s in the Fortress? He couldn’t be,” Thrace said. “I’ve been listening to reports by the newsbards all morning. Some of the newsbards had come directly from visiting the Fortress. They would have mentioned Sindar.”

  “Legrand and Stenesso are keeping this quiet for now. Legrand showed me that Sindar is being treated well—as much as is possible for one being kept in one of the cells down there.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He got caught in bed with one of Stenesso’s wives.”

  That wasn’t good. It was fully within the rights of any ascor to put to death anyone messing with their wives. Bowe wouldn’t have thought that Sindar would risk toying with one of Stenesso’s wives, nor that he’d be stupid enough to get caught.

  “What did Sindar have to say for himself?” Bowe asked.

  “You know him, always joking. Says he hopes to spend the whole Infernam in the cells so that he doesn’t get stuck with any responsibilities.”

  It wasn’t a funny joke, but it did suggest that Sindar sensed that this Infernam would be different. “What does Legrand want from us?” Bowe asked.

  “He didn’t say,” Sorrin said. “But it seems clear now. Stenesso asked you to help him against the Guild and you refused. This is his way of making sure you do as he wanted.”

  “How can we be sure Steness
o will let Sindar go even if we help him?” Thrace asked.

  “We don’t have many options,” Bowe said. “It’s best to go along with Stenesso and keep Sindar’s capture quiet. If the news comes out, then it’ll be hard for Stenesso to release him and keep face.”

  “And what do we do about freeing him?” Sorrin wanted to know.

  “I’ll start looking into the Guild,” Bowe said. “If I find out something important, I may be able to use it as a bargaining chip to get Stenesso to free Sindar.”

  “And if you can’t?” Thrace asked.

  There was no answer to that. The silence seemed to grow into an oppressive force as they realized that there was a good chance they might never see their friend alive again.

  Chapter 5

  37 Days Left

  Bowe closed his eyes for the hundredth time, knowing that it wouldn’t make any difference; he wasn’t going to get any sleep. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sindar surrounded by the darkness of the Fortress cells.

  His eyes popped open and this time he threw off his blankets and stood up. He padded across his room and opened the door. Outside, the corridor was dim with just one candle flickering at the far end. Were the other ascor having as sleepless a night as he was? He walked to Zofila’s room, gently pushed it open, and looked inside.

  Even with the blinds closed, Helion provided enough light to make out the shape of the interior of the room. The purple moon was getting bigger and brighter each evening.

  On the bed, an unmoving bundle was tightly wrapped with blankets. Bowe hesitated and almost turned back, then sat in the bedside chair. It had been a long time since Bowe had been in his wife’s room at nighttime.

  “You know it’s creepy to stare at someone when they are sleeping.” The bundle twisted around and Zofila pushed herself onto her side, leaning on her elbow.

  “Sorry, I know I shouldn’t have come in.”

  “You have my permission to visit more often,” Zofila said. “Just don’t be so silent and creepy in the future.”