She did not know if she agreed with the girl. After all, though Kerri might be the same age as Loren, she had not seen the things Loren had. It was hard to feel that she was doing the right thing when the nine kingdoms only seemed to slip further and further into chaos with every action.
Loren looked up at the mountains again, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. Then she pushed herself up from the roof.
“Come,” she said. “We had better leave. Kal might come to fetch us from our room, and if he finds me gone, he may have a conniption.”
Kerri snickered. “I know a medicine for that.” But she followed Loren down to the ground.
THEY SLEPT FITFULLY THAT NIGHT. The day’s battle had passed, but it had left its mark on all of them. Though she did not dream, Loren shot awake more than once, thinking she heard the clash of steel in a sewer tunnel. Other times she woke at the sound of others stirring, coming suddenly awake with sharp cries. She heard the same thing through the wall in the next room, where Chet, Gem, and Wyle slept.
When morning finally came, Mystics brought them food to break their fast. Loren ate sparingly, not only because the food was much poorer than it had been in Yushan’s manor, but also because her appetite had waned. She tried not to wonder if Kal would call upon her that day. If she had her way, she would have wasted no thought on the grand chancellor at all.
After choking down all the food she could, she got up and went to the next room. The others were all awake—even Gem, to her surprise. He and Wyle sat on the floor, eating their own meal, though they looked little more interested in it than Loren had been. But Chet was still on his bed, and Loren did not think he had touched his plate. He sat leaning against the wall, hands clasped between his knees. He looked up at Loren as she entered, his eyes like those of a corpse.
“Wyle, Gem,” she said quietly. “Might you leave us alone for a moment?”
Gem glanced up at her, confused. But Wyle, bless him, did not hesitate. He rose, beckoning for Gem to follow. As they left, Wyle gave her a reassuring nod. But she scarcely saw it, for she never took her eyes from Chet’s.
The door closed behind her. She stood in perfect stillness for a moment. Then she crossed the room to sit on the bed with Chet, carefully placing herself near the foot of the bed to give him plenty of room. Yesterday, in a moment of forgetfulness, she had seized his arms. Now she would give herself no chance to repeat the mistake.
Chet gave her a sad smile. “You know what I am thinking.”
Loren shook her head slowly. “I do not take anything for granted. My dreams do not show me the future.”
Chet dropped his gaze to his hands. “This time they are right. I have to go.”
A long silence followed. Loren did not speak, could not answer. She had expected it for days now, ever since her dream in Sidwan. She had known. Yet the reality of Chet’s words, the finality of them, left her breathless. The pain was not as sharp as when she had lost Jordel, but it was somehow deeper. After all, Jordel’s parting had not been his choice.
“I do not want to go,” Chet began. “Only I cannot—”
“Stop,” said Loren. “I understand. I told you in Feldemar: you never have to explain yourself. Not to me. I have always understood you, Chet. How could I not?”
“Yet I must explain,” said Chet, shaking his head. “I am breaking a vow. I made it to you, and I made it to myself, and it demands that at least some excuse be made.”
“What excuse?” said Loren. “You have suffered more than—”
“Darkness take you, Loren, stop talking and let me speak!”
The words were neither harsh nor angry. They were desperate and pained, dragged from him as though each one agonized his throat. Loren’s voice choked off, and her jaw worked to restrain a sob.
“I thought I was brave enough,” said Chet. “Or, not brave. Resilient. If I could not fully give myself to your mission, I thought I could at least endure it. Last long enough, at least, for this quest to be over. I have known for some time that I would have to abandon the war. But I thought I could help you catch Damaris, and then I could leave with my conscience … not clear, but somewhat assuaged. Or I hoped you might tire of the chase in time, and then we could both go. But you seem tireless, and I can no longer keep the pace. Each day when I wake, I am breathless with the fear of death. Every night I fall asleep dreading that I shall never rise again. The terror creeps through me until I think it will stop my heart, and then until I wish it would. But this has been my plight since Dahab, and I kept on—but no longer. I see it now. I see that I endanger you all. I am weak. My courage will fail you at the worst time, and then your enemies … do you see? I am not only leaving for my sake, but for yours. I cannot follow you anymore.”
I knew the dreams lied, Loren thought. They always have. In them, he said the opposite. But I was right all along.
“I will get you a horse,” she said. “For supplies. You have a mount outside the city, of course, but you should have a pack animal as well.”
“One horse is enough,” said Chet. “Indeed, I never thought to own a horse in all my life. I do not know what I would do with two.”
“Take the second one,” said Loren. “It will make the journey easier. The Birchwood lies not far to the south. There may still be Shades in its western reaches. The High King has not yet driven them out. You should ride east for a while, but then you should be able to ride south and find home.”
Chet shook his head. “Even now, you trouble yourself over me. I do not want to be any more burden than I have already—”
“Now it is your turn to be silent, Chet,” said Loren. “You are not a burden, and you never will be. You have gone farther, done more, than anyone else in my life. I may have ridden longer beside Annis and Gem, but they did not leave home to find me. They did not travel for many leagues, all alone, only to seek me out. They did not …” She paused, forcing away the tightness in her throat. “They did not help me survive the Birchwood long enough to leave it in the first place. I pictured it often. Stealing my parents’ dagger, but instead of making off with it, plunging it into my own heart. Sometimes the longing was so strong that I had to dig my nails into my own skin to prevent it. Only your friendship and, in time, your love, turned me from the path.”
He was silent for a long moment before he whispered, “You never told me that.”
“There was much I never told you. And I still keep some secrets. But this I will say plainly to you, and to anyone else: you speak of me as if I am some great hero, and you only a weight that I bear. I do not argue your right to leave, but I will not let you speak ill of yourself. I will not even let you think ill of yourself. Sky above, Chet, you saved the life of the Lord Prince. You are a hero of the highest renown, and Underrealm does not deserve you.”
Loren forgot herself again for a moment. Her hand crept for him—just for his foot, just to feel his skin again. But Chet drew the foot back as if she were a striking snake, and Loren immediately withdrew.
“I am sorry,” she whispered.
“No, it is not you,” he said. “I still cannot … I still see … forgive me.”
His tears broke at last, though Loren’s would not come. She shook her head. “There is nothing to forgive.”
Chet sat weeping for a short while, his face buried in his hands. At last he raised his head, but when he spoke, his words were still broken by sobs. “I wish that … I hope that after everything—if there is an anything after all of this—I hope you will come and find me.”
“I promise that I will,” she said. “I swear it.”
“I do not know if we can … if it can ever be like it was before,” said Chet. “But I want to know the answer.”
“We will,” said Loren. “But you must promise me something as well. Promise that you will try, at least, to find happiness. I was never able to give it to you, but now I charge you with that as your only mission: find happiness wherever it lies, and cling to it. Fight for it, and enjoy it as much
as ever you are able. For my sake as well as your own.”
“For your sake as well as my own,” whispered Chet. “I cannot imagine it. But I will try.”
Slowly he pushed himself up and off the bed. With cautious, tentative steps, he walked towards the door. Loren almost leaped up to embrace him—not because she had forgotten herself, but because who knew if she would ever have another chance?
Indeed, some dark voice at the back of her mind seemed to promise that she would not.
“Wait,” she said.
His footsteps stopped.
Digging into the purse at her belt, she withdrew twenty gold weights. “For the horse, and for the rest of the journey home.”
She held the coins in an outstretched hand, still gazing at her folded legs. She did not look up, for then she knew she would not be able to restrain herself from trying to hold him, from begging him to stay.
A long moment’s silence stretched. He did not take the coins from her hand.
“Of course,” she whispered. “I forgot.”
She put the coins down on the edge of the bed and withdrew. From the corner of her eye, she saw his hands collect them up. Then came the sounds of him slipping on his boots, leaving, and closing the door behind him.
And then nothing.
LATER THAT DAY, KAL SUMMONED Loren and Annis to his chamber. In the small room, he had put an even smaller desk. Unlike the one in his council room in Ammon, this desk had no map atop it. There was only a single goblet of wine. Loren had no idea why he would have taken up so much of the room’s limited space with the desk, except mayhap that it was a more impressive place for him to sit, subtly enhancing the impression he gave off as Loren and Annis stood before him.
Also in the room were Prince Senlin—King Senlin, Loren reminded herself—and Jo, who was now the boy’s bodyguard. Jo wore no armor now, and bandages were wrapped thick around his torso. Loren vividly remembered the sound of the man’s ribs cracking when Gregor had kicked him, but Jo seemed determined not to let such injuries deter him from his duties.
“I am glad to see you well,” Loren told him as Annis closed the door.
“And you, Nightblade,” said Jo.
“Enough of that,” said Kal. He fixed Loren with a look. “I notice your lover left this morning.”
Loren straightened, glaring down at him. She did not answer.
“Is it safe to have him running around out there?” said Kal. “Can we trust him?”
Loren kept any rancor from her tone, but it was a near thing. “I trust him a far sight better than I trust you.”
Kal scowled at that, but when he answered, it was to change the subject. “I have been collecting information. Wojin did more than attack you in the sewer yesterday. At the same time, his soldiers rounded up those in the royal army who are loyal to Jun.”
Annis gave a little gasp. Loren thought of Duris, the noblewoman who had offered to help them, and Morana, her daughter in the palace guard. “Were they executed?”
“No,” said Kal. “There were too many of them, and even if Wojin is a treacherous snake, he is no fool. So many murders would only stoke the flames of anger that still burn in the people of this city. The loyalists have been imprisoned. We will free them when we can, but it shall have to wait. I have a plan. We know, of course, that we cannot let Dorsea remain part of a rebellion. It is a grave danger to all the nine kingdoms. Not only because of Dorsea’s military might, which is considerable, but because it could sway the minds of other kings who have yet to join the war. Dorsea had already allied itself with the High King, and then it changed sides. Moreover, Dorsea borders five of the nine kingdoms. I know you never studied numbers, but that is more than half. Dulmun could not have chosen a stronger ally.”
“Forgive me, Grand Chancellor, but we know this, and it has no effect on what we must do,” said Annis. She had not lost all of her snippy tone from yesterday, being still angry at Kal for the way he had treated them. “You said you had a plan.”
Kal’s jaw worked. “We must depose Wojin and restore King Senlin to the throne. You lot had concocted a plan to raise the army against him. It was complex, and therefore doomed to fail. Much of that blame may be laid at your feet, I am sure, but I know, too, that King Jun was more honorable than he was practical. Meaning no disrespect to the dead, of course.”
He inclined his head at Senlin. The boy’s mouth had set in a grim line, but he nodded.
“In any case,” said Kal, “I mean to remove Wojin the old-fashioned way: attack the palace with a small, determined group of soldiers, and kill him.”
Loren balked, but she kept her mouth shut. Annis, however, did not restrain herself. “That seems a difficult task, to be sure.”
“Difficult?” said Kal. “Yes. But we should be able to pull it off. The capital is in turmoil after the Nightblade’s very foolish, very public display—the only good thing to come from your stupidity.”
Loren’s stomach did a turn. Not at Kal’s words, but at his intentions. He meant to assassinate a king—a false king, but one sitting a throne nevertheless. She did not think cold-blooded assassination fit within the Mystics’ purview. Yet she knew it would be little use arguing with Kal about it now. The grand chancellor’s mind was set, and he would no doubt relish the opportunity to dress Loren down again. Off to the side, she could see that Senlin also looked deeply troubled. He had the same sense of honor as his father, and Loren imagined he did not look favorably upon assassination. But he held his peace. Why should he not? Kal’s plan would put him upon the throne.
Kal noted Loren’s hesitation. “Enalyn vowed that she would not force you to kill,” he growled. “I am required to respect that vow. But if you think I will follow your foolish rules, you are very much mistaken. Though I will not order you to deliver the killing blow, you will aid my soldiers in this. You have ruined enough already, and a kingdom is in chaos because of it.”
Loren lifted her chin. “Very well. I will help.”
That made Kal subside, at least for the moment. “Good. And I have decided to grant you a boon as well. Once my men are inside the palace and have set about their work, you are to look for Damaris. You have chased her across two kingdoms. I doubt you will ever have a better chance to catch her. See if you can capture her. We will end Wojin tomorrow, certainly, but it would be better to kill two birds with one stone.” He managed a grim smile. “Or rather, since you cannot be bothered to dirty your hands, to kill one bird and cage the other.”
But Loren barely heard his jibe. She could think only of Gregor—and of her dreams, in which she saw him over and over again.
In the palace of Danfon.
“I will do my best,” said Loren.
Kal fixed her with a hard look. “I expect you to do more than that. You will give every fiber of yourself to ensure this mission’s success, as some small token of payment for your buffoonery so far. If you interfere in any way with my soldiers’ mission to kill Wojin, I myself will ensure that the full weight of the King’s law falls upon your head. Is that clear?”
Loren kept her face as still as a mask of stone. “It is clear.”
Kal grunted. “Good. Now get out of my sight, and ready yourself. Tomorrow we topple a king. A false one, it is true, but nonetheless it will be no mean feat.”
He waved them off, and together Loren and Annis left the room.
LOREN RETURNED TO THEIR CHAMBERS and informed Gem and Kerri of the plan. Gem sat silently in the corner of the room, not looking at her. He had taken Chet’s departure hard, and had refused to even say good-bye. When Loren saw the look in his eyes, she could not help but be reminded of how he had been when Jordel died. But she forced herself to ignore it. If she spent too much time thinking of Chet’s departure, she was not sure she would be able to go on.
When she had finished outlining the plan, Gem finally spoke in a small voice. “I am ready to go whenever you are.”
“And I will guide you, of course,” said Kerri.
Ann
is smiled ruefully. “And I suppose I will remain here—again.”
“Annis,” said Loren, frowning. “You know that—”
The girl’s smile only broadened, and she waved a dismissive hand. “Yes, I do know. I speak in jest, though I do so poorly. There is plenty to keep me occupied. I think I will meet with the new king. Likely he knows something of how to rebuild his court when he is in power, but I think I may be able to help him with some specifics.”
Gem looked at her with sudden interest sparking in his eyes. “That is unfair! Why should you get to stay behind and have all the fun?”
Annis winked at him. “I doubt you would call the planning of finances and court appointments ‘fun’—and if you did, I think you would only do so because of the company. You will do far better by Loren’s side, but I can put in a good word for you with the new king, if you like.”
Blushing furiously, Gem began to pick at his fingernails. “I do not know what you mean,” he muttered darkly.
Loren smirked to see them jibing with each other again. It almost helped to remove the dark cloud of Chet’s absence. But she noticed that Kerri did not join in the room’s cheer. She sat completely still, and her gaze was far away.
“Kerri?” said Loren. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” said Kerri quickly, looking up. “Nothing, I only …” She sighed and shook her head. “Oh, very well. I am worried. We had one good moment in the beginning, taking Wojin completely by surprise. But ever since then, he has outsmarted us at every turn. Even when we tried to escape. It has nearly gotten us all killed, and it did get King Jun killed.”
Loren nodded slowly. “That is true. And sometimes I feel the same sense of foreboding. But this is a new situation. It was not Wojin who predicted our plans, but Damaris, who got her information by putting Duris to the question. But she has no one to turn to for information now. And Kal—whatever else he may be—is a cunning man. If he thinks this scheme will work, I am willing to try it.”
Yerrin: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 6) Page 24
