Lady Sethemba met Piercy’s eyes above the magician’s head. He could almost see her thinking We’re at this man’s mercy and nodded in agreement before he remembered she could not read his mind. “That is a long and extraordinarily detailed story,” he said. “Why should we believe any of it?”
“What reason do I have to lie to you? Look, I have a portrait…it’s in the locket in my coat pocket…look at Dalessa and take pity on me, I beg you.”
The coat lay draped over the end of the bed. Piercy patted it down and felt something hard in the inside pocket that turned out to be a gold locket shaped like a heart. He popped it open. It contained a slightly blurry pencil drawing of an attractive woman with her hair hanging loose around her face. Her features reminded him of someone, but he could not bring the name to mind. He passed the locket to Lady Sethemba, who glanced at it briefly before tossing it onto the bed. “She could be anyone,” she said.
“I don’t know how else to convince you. I swear by the Twins I will return you to our time, just…please, let me finish what I’ve started. In eight days the artifact will be lost to history. Seven days—less than seven days, if we hurry—and I swear I’ll take us all home.”
Piercy and Lady Sethemba looked at each other again. “What do you think?” Piercy asked in Santerran.
“I think he’s not being totally honest with us,” Lady Sethemba replied. “I also think we have no other choice but to stay with him until he’s accomplished this mad quest he’s on.”
“You think we should just follow him around like ducklings after a moderately deranged mother duck?”
“Do you have another idea?”
“Not really.” Piercy came around to where he could see the magician’s face. The man’s wide-eyed guilelessness didn’t seem faked, but Piercy hadn’t lasted this long in government service by trusting anyone who looked that innocent. “We’ll travel with you,” he said in Dalanese. “And if you try to escape us, we will hunt you down and you will discover how well you can cast spells with only two fingers.”
The magician’s gaze darted nervously to Lady Sethemba’s blade. “I swore I’d take you back,” he said. “I mean to keep that oath.”
“Nevertheless, I think I will share this room with you tonight,” Piercy said, “and you will remain bound.”
“But I promised I wouldn’t betray you.”
“We are not children,” Lady Sethemba said. “You will have to make more effort to convince us to trust you.”
“I understand,” the magician said. “But…will you tell me your names? I’m Atheron Hodestis.”
“Piercy Faranter,” Piercy said, “and this is Lady Sethemba.”
“Mr. Faranter, Lady Sethemba, thank you for believing me. I didn’t realize how much I needed to tell someone the truth.”
“Don’t thank us until we have all come to the end of this.” Piercy nodded at Lady Sethemba, and in Santerran said, “I will procure a room for you, and in the morning we will set out again.”
“If you’re trying to protect me again, Mr. Faranter—”
“You are a princess, Lady Sethemba, remember? You do not speak Dalanese and you cannot sleep in the same room as a pair of men, your sworn attendants or not. If Mr. Hodestis attempts to kill me in my sleep, I assure you I will scream with the depth of feeling normally associated with mortal terror and wait for you to run to my rescue.”
To his surprise, her eyes lit with mirth, and she concealed a smile behind her hand. “I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Faranter.”
Piercy went downstairs and negotiated with the innkeeper for a room for Lady Sethemba, a process that involved praising the quality of the inn and the beer and assuring her the “princess” would tell everyone of how well she’d been treated. Then he went back upstairs, showed Lady Sethemba her room, and went to settle in for sleep.
He eyed Hodestis, who regarded him with a guileless, wide-eyed stare. “I will have to tie you to the chair,” he said.
“But I swear I won’t try to go anywhere.”
“You have yet to earn my trust.” He assessed the room, which contained nothing in the way of ropes. Sighing, he began tearing the bed’s worn sheet into long strips. If there were some way to repay the innkeeper…but he already felt guilty about misleading her and essentially stealing food and shelter. There was nothing for it but to pray the Gods understood his needs and forgave him his actions.
He bound Hodestis securely to the chair, then gagged him. The man made several choked-sounding exclamations. “If I am unwilling to allow you your freedom, imagine how I feel about leaving you capable of casting spells,” Piercy said. He pushed the chair into the center of the room and with some difficulty maneuvered the bed so it lay in front of the door. “Rest as well as you are able,” he said, removing his coat and shoes and lying on his side on the denuded bed so he could watch the little man. After a few minutes, Hodestis’s head drooped and nodded in sleep.
Piercy watched a few more minutes until he was certain the man wasn’t faking, then rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. It was hard to remember what he’d been doing only twenty-four hours before. Oh. Yes. Recriminating himself for seducing Lady Sethemba for the wrong reasons. He’d been so sure of himself—it was the first time in memory he’d been wrong about a woman’s interest in him. On the other hand, this was Kinfe Sethemba’s daughter, a woman trained to strike at her enemy from the shadows, someone wary enough to be suspicious of any man’s motives and unlikely to be caught by anyone’s wiles. He slept, and dreamed of kissing her again, woke briefly to an inexplicable sense of loss, then finally fell into a dreamless sleep.
The first thing Piercy saw when he woke was Hodestis, still asleep with his head lolling to one side. At least something had gone right. He moved the bed, waking the man, who began mumbling through the gag. “Wait here,” Piercy said, and went down the hall to Lady Sethemba’s room. After a second, she opened it a crack. Piercy was certain the knife was hidden just behind the door. “You left him alone?” she said.
“He is still bound, but I suspect he chose to remain that way, as he seems determined enough to find a way to free himself if he wished. I think we will be able to walk him out of this inn without raising a storm of questions about why you choose to bind and gag your tutor.”
“I’d forgotten that’s what you said he is. Very well. We can trust him at least a little. But I don’t think it means he won’t turn on us when he gets the chance.”
“Nor do I, hence my words about not giving him etc., etc., but as we must travel with him, we might consider giving him opportunities to betray us—with the two of us prepared to counter him, naturally—to test the extent of his reliability.”
Lady Sethemba opened the door more fully. “That makes sense,” she said, a trifle grudgingly. “Though I don’t intend to let him get very far from me.”
“He certainly sees you as the greater threat.”
“With good reason.” She shut the door on the beginnings of his sputtering retort. She saw him as non-threatening? He wished Hodestis might attack just then so he could prove her wrong. She rescued you from Hodestis’s madness, she subdued him without your help, it’s no wonder she doesn’t consider you much of a fighter, he told himself, but that only made him angrier.
Hodestis was still in the room when he returned. Piercy removed the gag and began untying him. “What did you tell the innkeeper when you arrived?” he said.
“That I’d had a mishap on the road and lost my horse and my belongings.”
“Excellent. You are now Princess Ayane Sethemba’s tutor and a member of her retinue. I don’t suppose you speak Santerran?”
“No. Will that matter?”
“Stay quiet, and it probably won’t.” Piercy looked out the window. The gray skies had lightened somewhat, but there would no doubt be rain later in the day. Well, there was no help for it. “Where were you headed next?”
“Rainoth, to purchase supplies and a wagon. My destination—our destina
tion—is eastward, toward the mountains. I asked about buying things here, but this is too small a village to have what I need.”
“Then I suppose we’re off to Rainoth. These are the conditions under which we will travel: you are never to go anywhere without myself or Lady Sethemba accompanying you, you will not use magic unless we give permission, and if we are challenged, one of us will respond, not you. Am I clear?”
“I agree to those conditions. I hope you’ll come to trust me in time.”
“Unlikely, but possible.”
The three of them went downstairs into a surprisingly empty taproom. It felt almost as if everyone had fled, leaving them alone in a long-abandoned inn, except that Piercy could smell the tang of boiled eggs and the rich scent of cooked meat and the thicker aroma of porridge coming from nearby. “Mistress innkeep?” he called out. “Her Highness would like to thank you—”
The door slammed open, revealing the innkeeper backing out with a wooden tray in her hands that brought with it more of those delicious odors. “Ser, her princess, ‘tes the best we c’n offer,” she said, setting the tray on the table and unloading it. Chipped china plates and bowls filled with porridge rattled as she laid them out; silver showing only a hint of tarnish, as if they’d just been polished, came out of a pocket of her apron; similarly polished silver cups appeared in the center of the table. The innkeeper bobbed an awkward curtsey and disappeared into the kitchen. Piercy and Lady Sethemba looked at each other. Lady Sethemba was trying not to laugh. “Don’t,” Piercy said in Santerran. “You will hurt her feelings.”
“It’s not the offering, it’s her approach,” Lady Sethemba said, controlling herself. “I feel guilty at deceiving her.”
“So do I, but I see no other way around our predicament. I have no money anyone here would accept. Paper money was not—will not be invented for another hundred years.”
“Is something wrong?” Hodestis said. He was already tucking into a bowl of porridge.
“No,” said Piercy. “Lady Sethemba, if you’ll take a seat?”
The innkeeper slammed the door open again and returned, this time with a platter of beefsteaks, bacon, and sausages. Now Piercy felt incredibly guilty. There was no way this inn, even as prosperous as it seemed, could possibly afford to supply this kind of food to three non-paying patrons. But he helped Lady Sethemba to one of the steaks, glaring at her when she made a tiny face of disgust, and after a moment’s thought gave one to Hodestis before serving himself. It was the best beefsteak he’d ever had, and as he chewed in gustatory bliss he briefly considered never leaving this place again. No indoor toilets, he reminded himself, which was enough to cool his ardor, though he thoroughly enjoyed the steak.
The innkeeper filled their cups with more of the delicious beer, then sat across from them and stared in wide-eyed awe at Lady Sethemba, who managed not to pay any attention to her. This didn’t discourage the innkeeper at all.
“Comes she fr’m Santerre direct?” she asked.
“Her Highness was returning to her home from a state visit to Matra when we were attacked,” Piercy said.
“Was she t’ marry a lord o’ us?”
“She was,” Piercy said, and Lady Sethemba made a choking noise. “They were betrothed as part of a diplomatic agreement between our countries. But when she saw the man, she declared she would have none of him.”
The woman’s eyes were even wider now. “C’n a princess choose not t’ marry? ‘Tes strange and wondrous for a woman.”
“Oh yes, the women of Santerre are far fiercer than the men,” Piercy said, ignoring the soft-shoed foot kicking his shin. “They carry a blade upon them at all times, even—” his voice dropped dramatically—“even in bed.” Another kick. The innkeeper covered her mouth to hold in a gasp. “And if a lady chooses not to marry a man, the man has no choice but to bow to her wishes. Yes, the princesses of Santerre are fearsome indeed.” This time the kick was aimed rather higher, but barely grazed his knee. Piercy smiled broadly.
The innkeeper eyed Lady Sethemba, whose lips were pinched as if she were holding back an outburst of legendary proportions. “’Tes strange,” she said. “Foreigns, they do naught but strange.”
“Indeed,” Piercy said. He drained his cup, then said to Lady Sethemba in Santerran, “Are you prepared for a walk?”
“Once we’re out of this village, you won’t be prepared to walk anywhere for a while,” she said.
“Princess Ayane thanks you for your hospitality and wishes you great luck,” Piercy said, “and I know you realize the good blessings of a Santerran princess will carry you far.”
“’Tes wondrous kind of her,” she said, and curtseyed several times in Lady Sethemba’s direction. Lady Sethemba inclined her head royally at the woman, then swept out of the inn without waiting for Piercy.
He followed her, then nearly tripped over her, because she had come to a full stop just outside the door. A mass of villagers waited there, surrounding the tiny inn yard. None of them looked very friendly. All were intent on Lady Sethemba.
Hodestis emerged behind Piercy, shoving him forward. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Piercy said, willing it to be true. He stepped in front of Lady Sethemba and said, “Her Highness is grateful for the welcome she has received here and hopes you will wish her a safe journey.”
A mutter went through the crowd. A couple of people elbowed each other. Then a man stepped forward, a mountain of a man with fists the size of melons and a thatch of hair that increased his already tremendous height. He looked even less friendly than the others. “Princess,” he said, his voice a bass growl like thunder, and Piercy readied his stick. If this was going to end badly, he did not intend to die without a fight.
Chapter Seven
“Princess,” the man repeated. His accent was even thicker than that of the innkeeper. Piercy took a step forward, putting himself more directly between the man and Lady Sethemba. The man grunted, bent at the waist, and bowed deeply, one knee to the ground, with one of those meaty fists covering his heart.
Lady Sethemba clutched Piercy’s hand; he gripped hers in return and drew her forward. “Say something,” he whispered.
“What?”
“They speak no Santerran. You could recite your lineage and they would believe it a stirring act of rhetoric.”
Lady Sethemba let out a harrumph of irritation and took another step forward. “Mr. Faranter, you are without a doubt the most irritating man I have ever met,” she declared. “Your gallantries annoy me and your overly formal speech makes me wonder who you’re trying to impress. I was incredibly relieved when Jendaya helped me escape you at the zoological gardens. But I have to admit you’re far cleverer than you first appeared, and you think quickly in the moment, so I suppose traveling with you won’t be the misery I might have believed it to be when I thought you were only a flirt.”
She made a slight bow in the direction of the kneeling man. Piercy tried to relax his clenched jaw and told himself no one was looking at him, no one would see his furiously reddened face. He probably shouldn’t have insinuated he had personal knowledge of the places she wore her knife.
The crowd muttered again. Then, a few at a time, they dropped to their knees and bowed their heads.
Now Piercy’s face was crimson with embarrassment. How much better to have skin like Lady Sethemba’s, where any blush was almost invisible. “We need to leave before they decide to install you permanently as a local goddess and Cath or Belia or both strike us all down for blasphemy.”
“This isn’t my fault, o silver-tongued one,” Lady Sethemba muttered.
“I don’t understand,” said Hodestis.
“Let’s just go,” Piercy said, and at that moment the crowd parted, revealing a short woman dressed in men’s clothes who was leading a piebald mare toward the inn. She bowed, a short bob of her head and torso, and said, “Princess, fr’m us to you, f’r y’ trouble.” She handed the reins to Piercy.
“Now I re
ally need to get out of here before I start laughing,” Lady Sethemba said.
The mare was saddled already with what to Piercy’s experienced eye was an antique, though of course in this era it was brand new. He helped Lady Sethemba into the side saddle, noted the worn condition of her footwear, and wished someone had thought to provide her with a coat as well.
Just as he thought this, the innkeeper came running out with a bundle of fabric she offered to Piercy. “M’ own,” she said, and Piercy had to bite back a protest. He’d never been so embarrassed in his life. We need this, and she’ll get another, he told himself, but the worshipful look in the woman’s eye made him want to crawl away like the worm he was.
The fabric turned out to be a heavy cloak of somewhat threadbare velvet, underneath which was a knapsack full of food. “The princess thanks you,” Piercy managed, gave the knapsack to Hodestis, and took the reins to lead the horse out of the village.
The crowd remained so silent it was unnerving, as if they were just waiting their moment to attack, to tear Lady Sethemba from the horse’s back and kick all three of them to death. Piercy caught himself holding his breath and had to make himself relax, which lasted for all of two minutes before he had to do it again. “Don’t look back,” he warned Hodestis, who looked fidgety.
“But I want to see if they’re following us,” he said.
“If they are, there is little we can do about it save die in an ignoble fashion. Lady Sethemba, are you comfortable?”
“I believe I have said to you not to be gallant on my behalf.”
“As I do not believe I can enhance your comfort in any way, I was merely making conversation. How far is it to Rainoth, Mr. Hodestis?”
“If you’ll allow me to cast a spell, I can tell you exactly.”
Piercy and Lady Sethemba exchanged glances. “Very well,” Lady Sethemba said. “But not here, where we are still within sight of the village. We will stop a mile from here where you can be assured I will watch you carefully.”
The God-Touched Man Page 7
