He broke off at last and clasped her face in his hands. “I’ve wanted to do that all day,” he gasped in her ear.
She laughed and kissed him again until their knees trembled and their bodies ached for each other. “Is there somewhere we can go?” she murmured.
He took her hand and pulled her along the sidewalk. “I was hoping you’d ask. I have a friend who has a house near the bazaar. He has kindly lent it to me tonight.”
Linsha said nothing more. She held his hand and ran beside him along Shipmaker’s Road to a large house set flush with the sidewalk. The ground floor held a tailor’s shop, but Ian led her to an outside staircase that led upstairs to a comfortable apartment. A small lamp glowed on the fireplace mantel in the front room, and several candles burned on a table set with plates of food and a flagon of pale white wine. In the back, Linsha could see another room with a large bed and more candles gleaming by the bedside.
She looked around with delight. “You planned all this?” she breathed. His only answer was another long, delving kiss.
They saved the food for later. He led her to the bed, and the last coherent thought she had was to secretly pull the packet and the dragon scale out of her clothes and tuck them out of sight in her boot.
They left the apartment shortly before dawn and unwillingly closed the door on the privacy they had so enjoyed.
“Maybe tonight,” Ian murmured into her hair, “if the volcano stays quiet and the city doesn’t burn down.”
“I look forward to it,” she replied, stretching languorously against him. He kissed her again in the warm darkness, and she almost gave in to the temptation to open the door and push him back inside. But Commander Durne was due back at the palace, and Squire Lynn was expected to report for duty at daybreak. Reluctantly they assumed their roles once more and walked back to the palace, Squire Lynn keeping the proper pace behind her commander.
As soon as Commander Durne left her in the courtyard and disappeared into the palace, Linsha ducked into the stable and ran up the ladder to see Varia.
The owl was in a huff. “Where have you been?” she cried angrily. “I was so worried I was starting to drop feathers.” Linsha flashed a cake-eating grin that Varia understood perfectly. “You were with him,” she squawked in dismay. “Oh, Linsha, I hope you don’t regret that!”
“I’ll try not to,” Linsha said flippantly. “But look at this. Captain Dewald gave it to Shanron to give to me if he was killed.” She pulled out the packet and showed it to the owl.
Varia shuffled from foot to foot, wanting to say more, but she knew the lady Knight enough to know she wouldn’t listen. Linsha had made up her mind, and for good or ill, she had made her love known to the commander. Only time would tell if it would be a blessing or a curse. Varia put her worry aside and let her curiosity take over. She watched as Linsha carefully unwrapped the thin packet.
The outer wrapping was just a worn piece of scrap parchment torn from the back of an old book. Inside was another piece of paper and a scrap of red fabric that matched the fabric of her uniform. Linsha turned the paper over and saw a letter hastily scrawled on its worn surface.
Skull Knight killed informer. I fear I am next. Knight in Gov. Guards, but don’t know who. Found scrap in dead man’s hand. Dark Knights to attack after volcano blows. Warn Annian.
“Oh, my,” whistled Varia. “No wonder they killed him.”
A cold, sick feeling crept into Linsha’s awareness. There was a Skull Knight in the Governor’s Guards. That explained a great deal. How many things had gone wrong, how no one had found him. Skull Knights were Knights of Takhisis trained in their dark mysticism to manipulate minds and shield themselves from other mystics, to use the power of the heart to corrupt and spread evil. She closed her eyes and breathed a small prayer that she would not meet this Knight and know his face.
“Who do you suppose it is?” Varia asked.
“I don’t know!” Linsha said in a hoarse voice. “It could be any of the captains. Or the weapons master, or the horse master.” She couldn’t go on, and Varia didn’t press her.
“Do you want me to take this to Lady Karine?” the owl asked.
Linsha shook her head. “Not yet. First I ask a favor, a big one, because I know you don’t like to fly in the daylight. Would you please fly out past the bay and see if those black ships are there? The harbormaster said he hasn’t heard from his scouts, but if this note is right and the Dark Knights plan to attack when the volcano blows, the ships may already be grouping for an attack.”
“That will take all day. I won’t be back until after nightfall,” warned the owl.
“I know.” She stroked her fingers down Varia’s velvety head. “Just be careful. I’ll try to meet you back here tonight.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Try to find a Skull Knight before he finds me.”
The owl hooted farewell, and the two went their separate ways. Linsha reported for duty as ordered and spent the day reciting rules, polishing armor, working with the weapons master, and studying every guard in sight for some telltale sign that would reveal him as the Dark Knight. Interspersed in her tangled thoughts were memories of the night before, and in those brief moments, she could relax and remember a few hours of uncomplicated pleasure and happiness. She wondered, too, what Lord Bight was doing and why she hadn’t seen him that day, or what luck Mica was having with the records. She had hoped to be sent to the temple to help him, but her officers had other plans.
Commander Durne stopped by the training hall in the midmorning and watched her practice with the weapons master. He shared a smile with her and made a comment or two about her stance. As soon as the weapons master was distracted, he bent over and murmured, “Tonight. Same place,” then hurried away to his duties. She watched him until the weapons master drew her attention back to her work by kicking her feet out from under her.
Linsha was also concerned she would be given sentry duty in the night watch again and wouldn’t be able to meet Varia or Durne until late in the night, but Captain Omat posted her to the afternoon watch in the hottest hours of the day. Linsha couldn’t decide whether to be happy or disgusted at his timing.
Once more she traipsed out to the guard camp with a squad of guards and was sent to the northeastern tower. She climbed up the stone stairway behind her companion guard and came out into the fiery sun. The two guards on duty hastily showed them a barrel of warm water, turned over the watch, and vanished down the stairs.
Linsha sighed. Surely someone could have built a roof over this tower. She leaned on the stone parapet and quickly changed her mind. The stone felt like a baker’s oven.
Restlessly, she paced from one side of the tower to the other. Her companion, the same dour man from the night before, settled himself in a corner and pretended she wasn’t there. Linsha curled her lip at him and continued to pace. After a while, she picked up the farseeing glass and studied the volcano. She found the dome immediately, like a huge boil near the crater of the mountain. Smoke and steam poured from cracks along its surface, and Linsha fancied she could see it pulsate and heave from the tremendous forces building beneath it.
Several horsemen arrived at the base of the tower and dismounted. Peering over the wall, Linsha recognized Lord Bight and his sorrel. Her heart suddenly contracted in a pang of guilt and nervous anticipation. He had said very little to her since the incident in the bathhouse. Was he still angry with her? Or worse, had he found out about her night with Commander Durne? That possibility, while remote, was the most painful to examine. She had an odd feeling he wouldn’t approve.
The packet, tucked into her waistband, poked her skin and reminded her of its presence. The information in the letter was another dilemma. Should she tell him of its contents and warn him of the possible attack? If she did, such an action would be a certain violation of her orders from the Circle. She was supposed to discredit him, not help him. On the other side of the coin, wasn’t she obligated to do everything in he
r power to stop the Knights of Takhisis from gaining control of Sanction? Telling the Circle about an imminent attack wouldn’t help. The only one strong enough to stop the Dark Knights was Lord Bight.
Linsha’s hands clenched into fists. Oh, Father, she sighed to herself. I wish you were here to talk to me.
When Lord Bight stepped onto the tower heights, Linsha and the other guard stood at attention and saluted. The lord governor had come alone, leaving his other men to wait below. He acknowledged their salutes and moved to the wall to study the volcano.
The second guard moved back to his corner and resumed his silent watch.
Linsha shifted back and forth on her feet, uncertain what to do. She wanted to talk to Lord Bight, but she hesitated to approach him without some sign that he was willing to listen.
“Squire,” he called. “Come here.”
Linsha’s fingers clenched again. How did he do that? Could he read her mind or he was he just incredibly intuitive? “Yes, my lord,” she answered, joining him by the wall.
He dropped his voice so the other guard couldn’t hear and said, “I wasn’t offended by you the other night. The problem was with me.”
Linsha looked away. All at once she realize she had received something rare and almost unheard of in Sanction, the governor’s apology. Just as suddenly her spirits lifted and she turned back to him, a smile on her lips.
Her relief was so obvious to him, his hand went out on its own accord and gripped her arm.
Although startled by his touch, she didn’t flinch or move away. Her green eyes regarded him steadily while she sorted through what to say. “Lord Bight, yesterday you said the Knights of Takhisis might take advantage of this distraction. It is in my mind that you are right. What better time to attack the city than when it is weakened by disease and its governor is busy with a volcano?”
“That has been on my mind as well, Lynn,” he replied. He dropped his hand to his side and turned back to look at the volcano. “The dome is almost ready to blow. I can hear the lava rumbling deep within the cone. Tomorrow I will go to the mountain to work my spells. I have to exert much of my power to release the pressure and send the ash and lava where I want them to go, and there are times during the working of the magic when I am vulnerable. I want guards I can trust to be with me. Will you be one?”
Linsha caught her breath. She was honored beyond speaking that he would ask her, would put his welfare and safety in her trust. Then her thoughts darkened, and her face grew pale under her tan. What of the Clandestine Circle? What of her vows to the Knighthood? She was under orders to help dispose of the lord governor. But by the gods, she could not agree to that course. She found his eyes on her again, and this time she couldn’t meet them.
“The time is coming, Lynn,” he said in a voice so soft she could barely hear him, “for you to decide. Friend or enemy.” Turning on his heel, he left the tower and left Linsha in a whirlwind of emotion. She pressed a hand over the dragon scale under her shirt and felt its hard, comforting edges. If only the scale had a magic spell in it to protect her from folly.
For the rest of her watch, Linsha stood by the wall and stared blindly at the mountain while she fought a battle within. This time she didn’t even want the distraction of her juggling balls. Over and over in her mind, she replayed the events of the past sixteen days, examining and considering every face, every conversation, every nuance of feeling she could remember. Somehow she had to find a path through the complications that would allow her to help Lord Bight without incurring the wrath of the Clandestine Circle. There had to be a way! He meant too much to Sanction to lose. By all the stars of Chaos, she finally admitted to herself, he meant too much to her.
But so did the Knights of Solamnia. For as long as she could remember, she had listened to the tales of her grandparents and parents, of their deeds and their friends’ deeds. Their courage, honor, and devotion to good had been imbued in her since childhood. The Knights of Solamnia caught her fascination after she heard her grandmother talk about her uncles, Tanin and Sturm Majere, who became the first non-Solamnics to enter the Knighthood. If they could do it, Linsha determined, so could she. After that, she had asked for the tales of Huma Dragonbane, Riva Silvercrown, and Sturm Brightblade again and again, until even her patient mother grew tired of them. Her beloved parents had not been enthused about their daughter joining the Knights of Solamnia, but they didn’t try to dissuade her either, and eventually, with her parents’ and grandparents’ blessing, she became the first non-Solamnic woman to ascend to the Order of the Rose among the Solamnic Knights. It was an honor she didn’t take lightly. Although she hated the deceptions of her mission in Sanction, she still belonged heart and soul to the Order of the Rose and all it stood for. Honor and justice.
The problem now was to find a solution that would allow her to serve justice without losing her honor.
By the time the brazen sun finally touched the horizon, Linsha had a raging thirst and a bad headache and was no closer to a resolution than when she started. The relief watch came promptly at sunset and told her all was quiet in the city. She and her silent companion rejoined the squad and began the march gratefully back to the palace for an evening meal and a long, cool drink of anything but tepid water from a barrel.
As they approached the East Gate, Linsha felt her hopes rise, and she scanned the area for the familiar tall figure of the commander. There he was, waiting with the City Guards posted at the gateway. He nodded once to the officer in charge, then beckoned to Linsha.
“Squire, attend me,” he ordered.
The squad moved on, leaving Linsha behind. She waited patiently in the shade of the wall while he spoke to the guards on duty, and while she felt anticipation for the coming hours, something of the innocent joy was gone, destroyed by the simple packet in her waistband and its scrawled warning. The Skull Knight was in the Governor’s Guards. Oh, please, she begged silently, don’t let it be Ian.
Twilight fell over the city as they walked down Shipmaker’s Road toward the house near the bazaar. Ian didn’t try to kiss her or touch her while there was still light in the streets and people to see. He waited until they had climbed the stairs and walked into the front room of the apartment.
The room was dim with evening and hot with the summer’s heat. Swiftly Ian closed the door behind her and gathered her into his arms. “Come here, Green Eyes,” he whispered.
Linsha’s reservations faded to distant heat lightning, and she gave in to the desire of his embrace. Their lips met and they shared a kiss, timeless and prolonged, that led to more until their hands and tongues couldn’t get enough and their clinging turned to need. Laughing, Ian hooked an arm under her knees and shoulders and carried her to the bed in the next room.
Hours later, Ian Durne kissed Linsha softly on the cheek and carefully rose from the bed. She slept lightly on her side, her hand close to her face, her red curls springing everywhere across the pillow. He watched her for a moment and felt regret like a knife blade in the gut. Moving silently, he picked up his uniform and boots and carried them to the front room, where he dressed as fast as he could. He opened the door. The night was full and hid the streets and alleys in dense darkness, but across the street, a tiny light flickered once in an alley. Commander Durne beckoned.
Two men dressed in black loped across the street and met Durne at the foot of the stairs. “I want her out of this,” he ordered. “Restrain her, but don’t kill her. Do you understand?” His hand shot out and grabbed one man’s arm in a painful grip. “And, Jor, if you lay a hand on her beyond what it takes to tie a rope, I will flay you alive.”
“Yes, sir,” both men grumbled.
“Good. Meet me at the appointed place as soon as you are finished here.” The commander released his grip and strode into the darkness.
The first sign of danger Linsha became aware of was a soft creak of the floorboards near her side of the bed. The unexpected sound brought her wide awake, and her eyes opened to see two black figures
lunging toward her. Automatically her hand reached for a dagger, but she had no clothes, no weapons, nothing. Hands reached for her. She erupted out of the bed in a tangle of limbs and bedclothes, screeching with fury.
The sheet pulled tight around her legs and threw her off-balance. She fell into the first figure and felt powerful hands grab her arms above the elbow and force them back until she moaned with pain. Without saying a word, the second figure clamped a hand like a steel trap over Linsha’s nose and mouth. A wad of rough fabric scratched her face and shut off her air.
She fought desperately to escape, but the two silent men were strong and efficient. A strange smell filled her nose from the fabric. It clogged her nose and drifted into her lungs. She choked and coughed and only succeeded in inhaling more of the noxious smell. All at once she became dizzy. Her strength drained away and her eyesight faded.
Where is Ian? she thought briefly before the world went black and she knew nothing more.
Mica closed the book he was reading and rubbed at the dull ache in his temples. This was useless. He was wasting his time trying to plow through all these books for some scrap of information that probably did not exist.
He had hoped the lord governor would send the squire back to help him, but apparently she had been kept busy somewhere else. Too bad. She was irritating and a Solamnic Knight to boot, but she could be useful. He thought it rather poor planning that the leader of his cell hadn’t bothered to tell him of the presence of a good Knight in the Governor’s Guards. While it was true the Legion and the Solamnics had little to do with each other if they could help it, he knew Calzon had a contact in the knightly order and it could have been useful to know who that contact was. Not that it mattered now. One way and another, Lynn’s identity had been revealed to him.
His biggest concern now was finding the key to the Sailors’ Scourge. He believed the disease was induced by magic, but now he had to prove it and, if possible, find something that would break the vicious cycle of the contagion. That was easier said than done. Mystic magic, his specialty, had very little effect on the disease, so it was probably based on something from the old magic of the gods, the magic that no longer existed on Krynn except in old artifacts and talismans of power.
The Clandestine Circle Page 26
