The Yellow silk r-4

by Don Bassingthwaite

  "Tycho, she could be anywhere!"

  "Not if her father's still looking for her!" Tycho ran into the back room. Just as he had seen through the door, this room was a shambles, too. His chest had been dumped out and its contents spread across the floor. "Laera!" He ground his teeth. There was nowhere to hide in the two little rooms! His eye fell on the window. The rope that he had left knotted to the bedpost was gone. He leaned out the window and scanned the shadowed alley below. The rope was there, pooled on the ground. "Laera!" he shouted. He swung over the sill and let himself down until he was hanging by his hands and dropped the rest of the way.

  A shadow in a narrow little niche gasped at the sound of his landing. "Laera?" Tycho called softly. He went over and crouched down, reaching for the shape huddled inside. "Laera, it's all right. It's Tycho."

  She all but fell out of the niche into his arms, weeping desperately and gasping his name over and over so fast it was almost incomprehensible. He tried to help her stand up, but her arms and legs were knotted-when he tried to straighten them, she gasped again, this time in pain. How long had she been wedged into that tiny hole? He began to massage her joints gently as he murmured comforting words. "Shhh… it's all right. It's all right."

  "Tycho?" The bard glanced up. Li was leaning out of his window.

  "She's fine," he called back. "Just stiff. We'll go around and come up the stairs." He looked back to Laera. "Do you think you can walk?" She drew a shaky breath and nodded. Tycho helped her stand. As he took her hand to lead her out of the alley, though, she hissed. "What is it?" Tycho asked.

  "My hands," she whimpered. He uncurled her fingers gingerly and clenched his teeth at the site of flesh scraped raw. "The rope," Laera said. "I slid down the rope to get away."

  "We'll put ointment on them upstairs," he said. "Can you tell me what happened while we walk?"

  She told him what little she had seen and heard of Brin's sudden visit and her escape. Even when everything had gone quiet again, she had been too terrified to move and had prayed desperately that Brin and whoever was with him-Lander most likely, Tycho guessed-wouldn't come looking for her. Just when she had thought it might be safe to move again, though, there had been more noises above: cursing and the heavy thud of something falling.

  That would have been Jacerryl's body being brought in, Tycho knew-and winced at the thought of what lay waiting for Laera in the room. They were on the stairs. He called ahead in Shou. "Li, cover the body!"

  "I already have!"

  Laera, however, wasn't so easily fooled. As soon as they crossed the threshold, her eyes fell on the blanket-shrouded form sprawled out on the floor. A short shriek escaped her and she stiffened. "Veseene?"

  Tycho hesitated then drew her over and uncovered Jacerryl's face. Laera shuddered and looked away. "What happened?"

  "Brin killed him."

  Li had set the couch back on its legs. Tycho sat Laera down and tried to find a little pot of ointment that had been in the cupboard. When he did, the jar was cracked. He split it open the rest of the way, scooped some out on his fingertip, and rubbed it gently into Laera's right hand.

  She watched him without saying anything for a moment then she asked, "Brin has Veseene, doesn't he?" Tycho nodded. "Did you get back the beljurils?" He nodded again. "Then everything will be fine, won't it?n

  Tycho looked to Li. The Shou was prowling around the room, poking through the wreckage as if there might be something else to find, some other clue to what had happened, lycho couldn't imagine that there would be. Abard's life was built on subtlety, but he felt like Brin had taken all of his and beaten it to the ground with a great big stick. He looked back to Laera. "No," he said bluntly. "It won't. Brin is holding Veseene hostage for Li's Yellow Silk."

  Laera's big brown eyes flicked up. For a heartbeat, Tycho felt as if she were looking right through him and trying to see something larger, and then she tipped her head to one side. "You're going to give it to him, get Veseene away, then steal back the Silk." Tycho looked away, scooping up more ointment and spreading it on her left palm. She tensed slightly. "You're going to help Veseene escape so Brin never even sees the Silk."

  Tycho's fingers moved up hers, smoothing the ointment onto her rope-burned skin. Laera sucked in a sharp breath. "You're… you're just going to give it to him?"

  He said nothing.

  "Bind you, Tychoben Arisaenn, you can't not give it to him!"

  "It's not mine to give," Tycho whispered. "I can't even ask for that." He looked up. "Did Veseene tell you the story about Dain Gallidy and Eiter the Nar?" Laera nodded stiffly. "I thought so. Two days ago, you wouldn't have even thought of any possibility beyond a heroic triumph."

  He let her hand go and looked at her closely. "If we get through this," he said, "I'll take you as my apprentice." Her eyes went wide. Tycho held up a cautioning finger. "But," he said, "I want you to go home. Right now. Whatever we do, it's going to be dangerous. We might very well not come back. If you're in your father's house, you'll be safe."

  Laera held her head high. "Uncle Jacerryl lived in my father's house."

  "And if you hurry back, you can claim some of his things before anyone's the wiser. I'll send you a message when it's safe." Tycho rose and started to pull her up.

  She stayed right where she was, her jaw set and her eyes defiant. "If you're going to rescue Veseene, I want to go with you." She tugged her hand out of Tycho's. "If you're not going to rescue her, I don't want to be your apprentice."

  "Laera…" Tycho growled.

  Li's hand clapped him on the shoulder. The Shou's expression was grim. "Do you really want an apprentice who runs at the first sign of danger, Tycho?" He looked at Laera. "Will you slow us down?" he asked. "If you're captured, will we need to fight for you?" Laera's eyes darted from the Shou's hard face to Tycho's and back again. She swallowed.

  "No," she said.

  "Then I say you should come with us." He looked at Tycho.

  The bard sighed and pressed his knuckles against his forehead. "All right," he said through gritted teeth-and glanced up sharply. "Wait-come with us where?" he asked.

  "To make a delivery to Brin." Li opened his shirt and shook his left arm out of its sleeve. With his right hand, he loosened the knot that bound the Yellow Silk around his arm and pulled it free. Light shimmered as the folds of the silk fell apart; where the light played across his face, Tycho could feel the warmth of a summer's day.

  The Shou held the Yellow Silk out to him.

  Tycho stared at it. "Li," he breathed, "I can't-"

  "— ask me for this? " Li's lips curled ever so slightly into a smile. "When you're in a small room, even a whisper is a shout." His hand didn't waver. "You don't need to ask. Yu Mao disgraced the name of Kuang. It's my duty to return honor to it."

  "But this…" Tycho hesitated. "Yesterday, you asked me for help. I feel like you're doing more to help me."

  "If that bothers you, I'll say that I'm doing it for Ve-seene. Or that I'm doing it for myself-I still need to ask Brin about Yu Mao's last days."

  "If he'll talk to you without trying to capture you."

  Li shrugged. "A chance I have to take. With luck, his answer will be that the captain's curse came to pass and Yu Mao lies with the Sow under the sea." He met Tycho's gaze with quiet calm. "Better me than a stranger; better me than no one at all-but better still that Yu Mao has already stood before the Lords of Karma and received their judgment. Thank you for giving me the chance to realize that."

  He reached out and grabbed Tycho's hand, thrusting the Silk into it and folding his fingers around it. Tycho almost gasped-the Yellow Silk was warm! Just holding it, he could feel the energy within the woven threads, at once both as gentle and as intense as the sun itself, the pride of an old and honest family. He looked down at the precious, wondrous artifact in his hand-and up, a fierce smile on his face.

  "Bind me," he said, "I've had just about enough of Brin. He's not going to get his hands on this and he's not going to get away with
threatening Veseene." He turned around and reached up above the fireplace with his free hand to pull down his strilling. "If he wants a song, he's got one."

  CHAPTER 14

  Sunset raked across the west end of Spandeliyon's waterfront, lending warmth to the light if not to the air. The snow might be melting, but it was still cold enough that every exhaled breath produced a little cloud of vapor and every inhaled breath sank a chill into Li's nose and throat.

  He said nothing as they-he, Tycho, and Laera-walked. The streets were empty, as empty as they had been two nights ago when he first arrived. Then, however, they had been empty because of the hour and the beginning of a snow flurry. Now they were empty because of a storm of a different kind: the fire at the Wench's Ease had drawn everyone who might otherwise be on the street to either fight the blaze or watch it. Thick smoke still reached into the sky, though it had gotten no thicker and the biting smell of it no stronger. The fire was slowly coming under control.

  If Brin had planned the fire to get everyone off the streets as well as bring Tycho running to the scene, he couldn't have done a better job. The streets were so quiet that Li could hear the waves seething against the docks a short distance away.

  As they approached the Eel, Laera stared at the sinuous form on the festhall's wall and shivered. Li touched her shoulder. "That's only a painting," he reminded her. "Don't be afraid of it. Be afraid of what we'll face."

  She gulped. Tycho glowered at him.

  "No more reassuring talks, Li. I don't think they're helping." The bard checked the strilling on his back and the dagger at his belt and glanced from Li to Laera. "Ready?"

  Laera nodded. Li nodded, too. His fingers curled and uncurled around the scabbard of his dao. Tycho shoved against the Eel's painted door.

  To Li's surprise, the Eel was as quiet within as the street without. No desperate drunkards, no brass-clad women, no sorrowful gamblers. The place had been cleared out entirely. There wasn't even any sign of Brin-not that the hin's absence came as that much of a surprise. Tycho had reasoned everything out before they left Bakers Lane. Brin will wait for us in the sty behind the Eel. It's where he always does his business.

  One figure moved in the dim light of the empty festhall. The big bartender was at his post. He jerked his bald head toward the back of the Eel. Li drew a deep breath. So far it seemed Tycho was right. He hoped that the bard was wrong on his next guess, though.

  He'll have us outnumbered. Lander will be there for sure, and likely Serg, Bor, Nico, and Ovel, too. And Black Scratch. With Brin, that will be seven against three.

  Tycho had counted Laera to be polite, but not even she believed him. It would be seven to two. A hard fight, hand-to-hand. They would need Tycho's magic-and the magic of the Yellow Silk. Tycho had protested the use of the ancient artifact-they were trying to protect it, weren't they? — but Li had argued him down. His father had entrusted him with the Silk for use in desperate situations. What was this situation if not desperate?

  Better to use the Silk than surrender it without a fight, he thought as well, especially when the Silk wasn't the only thing at stake. Tycho hadn't been able to guess at Veseene's condition or circumstances in Brin's grasp.

  Li's fingers curled against his dao again. He needed Brin to answer one question for him. And after that…

  "Li?" Tycho nudged him. "Are you all right?"

  "I'm almost done here, Tycho." He looked down at the bard. "One way or the other, I'll be done. I'll have an answer about Yu Mao. If Brin says he's dead, I can go back to Keelung. If Brin says he's alive somewhere else, I'll be leaving Spandeliyon to find him."

  "And if Brin kills us before he gives you an answer?" Tycho asked in Shou.

  Li glanced at Laera, but of course the young woman didn't understand the language. His mouth twitched in a grim smile. "I thought you said no more reassuring talks?" he said to Tycho.

  "You're not scared?"

  "Witless," said Li, quoting Tycho's own words back at him. "It's the only smart way." He held out his hand in the Western manner. "If Brin kills us, Tycho, then I'm glad to have met you."

  Tycho took his hand and bowed over it.

  One of the curtains that had previously been drawn at the festhall's rear was pulled aside to reveal a door of rough, black-painted wood. Tycho paused. "Here we go," he said, and opened it. The smell of pigs washed over them, almost suffocating in its strength. Li followed Tycho through the door and into Brin's infamous sty.

  Tycho had described it perfectly. The shadowed alley behind the Eel was wide-as wide as a house. Perhaps five paces to the right, it ended in a tall plank fence. An equal distance to the left was a lower, more open fence of rails. Beyond, the alley twisted back out to the street. A heap of wet straw slumped against the wall of the Eel on the rail fence's far side; against the fence and inside the sty were a long trough and a stout table and bench. At the back of the sty, a low roofed shelter had been built against the wall of the neighboring building. Perhaps a dozen pigs were huddled within, all of them staring out with a frightened intensity.

  Brin sat on the table with Veseene, a gag in her mouth and her hands loosely bound, beside him. He held a sharp dagger in his right hand. His left rested on the head of Black Scratch. The boar sat like an angry guard dog beside the table, barely restrained by his master's touch. Lander, Nico, and Serg stood arrayed between the table and the door.

  They weren't alone. Against the plank fence lounged five rough-looking men. All armed. Beyond the rail fence stood two other men, one in red robes, the other in normal clothes but wearing confident power like a cloak. Wizards? Li's breath hissed out. His fingers curled against the scabbard one final time then stayed still.

  They had expected to be outnumbered, but not like this. "Tycho…" Li murmured.

  Brin nodded and Li caught sudden movement out of the corners of his eyes as Bor and Ovel stepped away from the wall behind them. Ovel reached out and shoved the door closed. Laera squeaked in alarm.

  "Stick to the plan," Tycho whispered back, but his voice was thin. Li fought to keep a wince off his face. Their plan was meant for seven, not thirteen.

  Did they have another choice now? He glanced around, taking careful note of where their opponents stood and trying to guess how they might move, as Tycho stepped forward. "Olore, Brin," the bard called. "You didn't mention that there'd be such an audience."

  "But you still brought the full chorus." Brin looked at Laera with a hungry leer and she shrank back. "Dantakain's daughter. Mard's been tearing up the town looking for her and you had her the whole time."

  "I don't have her," said Tycho sharply. "/ don't take hostages."

  Brin smiled. "Why, neither do I. Is it wrong to invite people around for some conversation?" He pricked Ve-seene with the dagger and the old woman hissed. Her face was pale and she was shaking badly, though Li couldn't tell whether that was because of her palsy or the cold. Above her gag, however, her faded blue eyes flashed angrily-at them. If she'd been able to talk, Li guessed, she would be berating them for walking into so obvious a trap.

  Tycho's eyes narrowed. "Take the gag out of her mouth. Let me talk to her."

  "I don't think so," said Brin. His gaze shifted between Tycho and Li. "Do you have the Yellow Silk of Kuang? "

  Tycho reached into a pocket of his coat. It seemed as if half the people gathered-but especially Brin and the two wizards-leaned forward in anticipation. Li tensed. Tycho, however, produced only a small velvet bag. "The beljurils, Brin," he said, spilling the winking gems into his hand.

  "You know it was Jacerryl who stole them. He sold them. I got them back." He tipped them back into the bag and held it out. "How about you take them and we part ways? All square?"

  Brin's sneer was no surprise. In fact, they had been counting on it. Li forced his expression to remain neutral. Let the hin think they were desperate, he thought, that he had them backed into a corner…

  That if he let them simply exchange the Yellow Silk for Veseene and walk out of t
he Eel, he would be losing the valuable beljurils. Blood in the water draws sharks, Tycho had pointed out. And in spite of his sneer, Brin's eye followed the bag as Tycho passed it to Laera. Lander's eyes followed it as well. Li murmured a silent prayer to Hsing Yong, the patron of fortune and prosperity. The sharks had the scent. It was time to whip them into a feeding frenzy-and, he hoped, to draw out an answer to the question that had brought him from Keelung to Spandeliyon. He stepped forward.

  Black Scratch shifted at the sudden gesture and let out a snort, hot breath producing a great cloud of vapor. Brin's hand tightened on the boar's head. Li ignored the beast and glared at Brin with all of the confidence he could muster. "You know who I am and what I carry," he snarled. "You must know why I'm here."

  "Kuang Li Chien," Brin replied without hesitation, "dutiful younger son of Kuang." His sneer grew even broader and more mocking. "Seeking vengeance for the death of his beloved brother, Yu Mao."

  In spite of himself, Li felt anger rising inside him. "Seeking vengeance on him," he said. "I know how he betrayed his ship and our people to join the Sow." It was gratifying to see Brin stiffen in surprise. So the hin hadn't guessed everything. Li returned his sneer. "You sailed with him for a year before the Sow sank. That's how you came to know about the Yellow Silk." He reached for his own pocket. "Before you take it, tell me this and I will not also seek my vengeance on you: where is Yu Mao now?"

  Brin released Black Scratch and grabbed Veseene with both hands, dagger tight to her throat. The old woman's eyes were wide. "You're in no position to make demands!" he spat above the enraged bellows of Black Scratch. Lander jumped in to grab the boar and hold him back, but the beast's squeals spread to the pigs in the shelter. The din was deafening.

  Li's hand moved closer to his pocket. "Tell me! The Silk is mine to give. Without an answer, you will never get it, no matter who you threaten!" Brin's face twisted and Li added, "If Yu Mao told you about the Silk, he told you I'm stubborn. Vengeance drove me along the Golden Way. Will one old woman's life stop me?"