The Narrowing Path: The Complete Trilogy (The Narrowing Path Series Book 4)

by David J Normoyle

  “Was it true what you told them? Do you think that Lears will see sense about this new tax?”

  “I keep telling myself that he has to. We have a special position in Arcandis, or at least we should. The farms around here supply most of the food—they can’t let the farmers starve or deny them entry to the Refuge for not paying taxes. There’d be a famine.”

  “The Bellangers wouldn’t have let it come to this.”

  Jakelin stopped walking and turned to stare at Bowe. Bowe knew he couldn’t actually see him, but that only made the stare worse. It was like Jakelin was looking straight through Bowe. “What do you know about the Bellangers?”

  “Nothing,” Bowe replied.

  Jakelin stared a while longer, then turned to face forward and Bowe led the old man onward again. They didn’t speak for the rest of the journey back to Jakelin’s house.

  Bowe wondered what that stare meant. Did the old marshal suspect something?

  Chapter 12

  Day 25

  Bowe returned what he’d just finished reading and picked out the next stack of papers. He made sure to keep everything in order. Jakelin wouldn’t be happy if he knew Bowe had come to his storeroom to search through his old papers, but perhaps he’d forgive Bowe if Bowe didn’t mess them up in the process. Of course, Jakelin would never have a chance again to look through his carefully arranged documents, but it was a matter of principle. A lot of time had been spent preserving them, and Bowe intended to treat them with respect.

  When Bowe had first started coming here at night, he’d read over the more recent documents. But the last few nights—knowing that his time was limited—he’d dug deeper and taken down the boxes dated fifteen years ago. He’d read about what had happened to cause the fall of the Bellanger family. The strange thing was that some of the things that Bowe read about seemed similar to what was happening now. Barns burning to the ground, crop seed being ruined. There was no mention of the Guild, though. Bowe remembered how Coensaw had said he was involved in the fall of the Bellangers fifteen years ago. At the time he wasn’t sure whether to believe him. This was possibly proof that he did have something to do with it, and also proof that Coensaw was willing to order that type of campaign if it helped his cause.

  From other correspondence, it was clear that the Bellangers had been in trouble even without the Guild’s interference. They had taken loans from the Raine family whenever they had a bad year and never dealt with those loans, allowing them to get out of control. Then they had one terrible year where everything went wrong. They had seen no way out, which had led to the mass suicide.

  The Greniers had taken responsibility for the Bellanger escay and marshals and their holdings and made sure those who deserved a place in the Refuge got one. Of course, if Arcandis had refused all the farmers and their crops and animals from the Refuge, then they would have had a famine in the following sexennium. The Greniers had also taken over the Raine loans. Perhaps that was why they were so desperate to keep the tax money coming in.

  Bowe sighed as he read the legal document where the Greniers agreed to take over the holdings previously administered by the Bellangers. It was a historic document—it probably shouldn’t have been buried away in an old storeroom. But it wasn’t an event that the powers of Arcandis were proud of, so Bowe could understand why it wasn’t displayed anywhere. And for Bowe it had an extra sadness, for it was the signing away of the old Bellanger legacy. He put it back into the box and picked up the next document. He had begun to scan that when a thought hit him and he retrieved the legal document and read through it again. Carefully this time.

  It had been signed by Jakelin and Stenesso and several other names that Bowe didn’t recognize, and had various weirdly worded clauses and all the appearance of an official legal document. There was one clause that Bowe read a few times. The clause mentioned that the Greniers gained power over the holdings because the Bellangers were gone. Did that mean that if the Bellangers came back this agreement became void and the Bellangers would legally regain their control over the countryside?

  Bowe felt a movement of air at the back of his neck and turned to see Jakelin standing there. Scrambling to his feet, Bowe tried to think of how to explain what he was doing. But Jakelin didn’t look angry.

  “Find what you were looking for?” Jakelin asked in a conversational tone.

  “I’ll put it all back exactly how I found it,” Bowe said.

  “I would hope so. I wouldn’t have put up with this if I thought otherwise.”

  “You knew?”

  “I don’t know how you think you could come into the storeroom every night and not have me know. My awareness of what’s going on around me doesn’t depend on my sight.”

  “I thought you were asleep.”

  “It’s been many years since I slept the whole night through. These days, an hour or two at a time is all I can expect.” He tapped on the wall. “There’s a guy just outside the house. He makes much less noise than you and I can still hear him. Are you expecting someone?”

  Nechil, Bowe thought. “He’s a friend.” Then he rethought. “Well, not that, exactly, but I have to go with him.”

  Jakelin nodded. “Are you leaving now?”

  “I guess, but—” Bowe didn’t want to just leave like this. Have Jakelin think he was someone who came to take advantage of him. Just read his documents, learn what he could, and move on. Jakelin deserved more. “I want to talk to you before I go. Will you wait here for me?”

  “And where would I be going in the middle of the night? This is my house.”

  Bowe padded softly to the main door. He opened it and looked outside. “Nechil,” he called out softly.

  A shadow materialized out of the darkness. “I guess the blind man heard me,” Nechil said. “How did you know it wasn’t Dulnato or one of his men?”

  Bowe hadn’t thought of that. “Well, it is you. Slight change in plan—I’m bringing someone with me.”

  Nechil glanced behind Bowe. “You better not be talking about the old man.”

  “No.” Bowe shook his head. “It’s a young woman. She won’t slow us down.”

  “The one from the marketplace?” Nechil asked.

  Bowe snorted. “I’m glad you are on my side. Or at least sort of on my side. I need a few minutes more. Can I tell you where to collect the girl and then you can meet me back here with her?”

  He considered. “Very well. I’ll be back shortly.” And he silently disappeared into the darkness.

  “Wait, I haven’t told you where to find her.” But he didn’t come back. He knows, Bowe realized. He made a mental note never to underestimate Nechil. Bowe wouldn’t have gotten far if he’d followed Iyra’s advice and made a run for it.

  Bowe closed the door and returned to where Jakelin waited. “Let me explain.”

  “May I see you?” Jakelin held out his hands in front of Bowe’s face, paused for a moment, and, when there was no objection, placed his fingertips on Bowe’s forehead. He ran his fingers down Bowe’s face. Bowe closed his eyes as Jakelin’s fingers explored the eye sockets. They continued down Bowe’s nose until they reached his chin, mapping out every bump and hollow of Bowe’s face.

  “That’s what I had suspected, though I barely dared to believe it,” he said when he was finished. “To someone who knew so many of your family, the nose gives you away. You can only be Bowe Bellanger.”

  Bowe nodded. “I am.” Bowe realized something that made him feel immensely pleased. If Jakelin could recognize him from his features, then he must be a Bellanger rather than an escay. Coensaw had lied. He knew it shouldn’t matter, but it did. He smiled broadly.

  “So coming to me was not a coincidence?”

  “It was.” Or was it? Bowe couldn’t be sure anymore. Had the Guild specifically arranged for Bowe to work for the old Bellanger marshal? “At least I didn’t plan this. I was on the run from the Grenier marshals and needed somewhere to hide.”

  “And because you were dressed as a sc
ribe, they didn’t see you even though you were in plain view,” Jakelin said. “Sometimes I think sight can blind more than it allows you to see. I’m often more aware of what’s going on around me because I’m not handicapped by relying simply upon what my eyes tell me.”

  Nechil could be back soon, so Bowe had to get to what was important. “Whether it was planned or not, I’m glad I got the chance to work for you. The escay are being crushed between the Guild and the Grenier marshals. I can see how unfair it is and would like to help if I can.”

  But Jakelin didn’t seem to be listening. “I expected you, you know. Those first few months after you became the new Bellanger Guardian, I was sure you would come out and examine the old Bellanger holdings. I was excited to see—well, perhaps that isn’t the right word; my sight was nearly gone even then—I was excited to find out what you would do. But month after month passed and you never came. You stayed in Arcandis City.”

  “I made a big mistake,” Bowe said. “I realize that now.”

  “I was angry,” Jakelin said, “when I realized you didn’t care about us. The last Bellanger, and we meant nothing to you. But possibly it was stupid to think like that. You were only a baby when the family died out. What did you know of the Bellanger traditions? And you’re so young. It is only now that I’ve met you that I realize how young you must have been when you walked the Green Path.”

  “I’ve grown a lot in three years,” Bowe said. “And especially in these last few weeks. And I came across something earlier. It’s a document, signed by you and Stenesso, among others.” Bowe went back into the storage room and retrieved it.

  “I know what you’re talking about and I remember signing it,” Jakelin said. “There was no choice at the time for either side. The collapse of one of the great families of Arcandis—who could have foreseen that? It happened so suddenly. Sure there were signs, but there were always problems to be dealt with and ways to fix them. We never imagined that all the small problems would cascade into a giant mess that couldn’t be solved.”

  “You said that you wanted me to come here three years ago.” Bowe wanted to get Jakelin’s mind back to be present. “What would have happened then? Would you and the other marshals have switched back to the Bellanger family?”

  “No.” Jakelin shook his head. “You were a great family in name only; what could you have offered us? We couldn’t gamble everything on you. But you could have come, talked to us, and perhaps in time...who knows?”

  “And now?”

  “Now you have been reduced to pretending to be a scribe. You can’t expect the other ascor and marshals to respect you again?”

  “I think it’s possible, but only if I emerge from all this stronger than I was. Which comes back to this document.” Bowe shook it in the air.

  “Careful with that.”

  “You are under pressure from Lears to apply this holdings tax and can’t see a way out. What about if you claimed to no longer be under his charge? If you declared that the document that gave the Greniers charge of the countryside was no longer valid? There’s a clause that implies that the Greniers are only in charge because the Bellangers are no longer around. Now that they’re back, now that we’re back...”

  “That’s what you want, is it? You want to ride back to power on the backs of the old Bellanger marshals.” Jakelin’s voice held a touch of anger. “You couldn’t offer us anything three years ago and you certainly can’t now. Be gone if you mean to go.” He began to walk away.

  “Wait.” Bowe grabbed Jakelin’s shoulder and the old man swung his cane at Bowe. Bowe didn’t try to dodge the blow this time, just winced as he was struck in the upper arm. “The situation here is bad; you’re desperate and don’t have a solution. I don’t suggest doing this for me. But perhaps it could help you.”

  “Let go of me.” Jakelin swung at Bowe and struck him again and again. “It’s stupidity. You just want to take advantage of us because you have no other way to claw your way up to the top table with the other great families. You had no interest in us until you reached the bottom.”

  Bowe gritted his teeth and bore the blows. “I made a mistake. And yes, I want you to do this because it might help me. The Belldeem marshals shouldn’t try to leave the Greniers for the Bellangers right now—the Bellanger family is too weak. But my suggestion could be used as a bargaining tool. As long as I’m alive, you can threaten Lears with shifting your loyalty and, more importantly, your taxes. Maybe it’ll be enough to get them to back off on trying to take more off you than you have.”

  Jakelin pulled back his arm to strike, then stopped. “There’d be no power behind such a threat. Who’d manage everything when the Greniers left?”

  “Why, those marshals who already do. You told me yourself that the marshals from the countryside are a different breed from the strutting sword-monkeys. Let it be known that I have invited all those marshals back into the Bellanger family.”

  “It’s not that simple. And at least those sword-monkeys provide some protection from the worst excesses of the forest bandits and the Guild.”

  “There are other ways of dealing with those threats.”

  There was a tap on the door. Bowe backed away rubbing his upper arm. “For an old guy you pack a mean swipe.”

  Jakelin leaned on his stick. “At my age, power comes from the mind rather than the body. I think I expended fifteen years of anger at the Bellanger family on you. What did you mean ‘other ways’?”

  “I’ve met some of the bandits, and their situation isn’t much worse than the farmers here. They have no strong desire to be criminals; they just want a way of life outside the present system. I think they could be persuaded to help rather than hinder in return for food and some payment.”

  “I knew you had too much familiarity with the Guild, but now you’re on speaking terms with the forest bandits, too. I clearly didn’t hit you hard enough when I had the chance.”

  “Whatever happens,” Bowe said, “it’s been a pleasure to have met you. You do the Bellanger name proud.” He exited before the old man had a chance to reply.

  Chapter 13

  Day 26

  The welts on Bowe’s forearm from Jakelin’s stick were rubbed raw from passing branches. His legs were aching and he was covered in crusted mud from when he’d fallen earlier. They’d walked through the night, then straight through morning and early afternoon with barely an hour’s rest. Nechil kept a relentless pace.

  The mood between the three of them was dark. Nechil was purposeful and uninterested in conversation, and Iyra seemed to be mad at Bowe for some reason that he hadn’t figured out. That hadn’t stopped her from laughing when Bowe had fallen face-first into a giant mud puddle. Even Nechil had smirked. Bowe flopped about as he tried to regain his footing, which had made Iyra laugh long as well as loudly. “Mush-for-brains,” she had said afterward, which had caused her to start laughing again.

  He was ready to sit down and refuse to move without a rest when he smelled the sea. It reminded him of being back in Arcandis and suggested they were near the end of the day’s journey; Nechil had revealed they were going to an abandoned coastal watchtower. That gave Bowe another burst of energy, and a short time later he was rewarded by the sight of the sea. They broke through the tree line and followed a path that wound upward. Atop a cliff was a stone tower, which was now in a state of bad repair; it looked like the weather had taken several big bites out of it. Seagulls circled it, screeching. Beyond the tower, the sea was in an angry mood. Even though there wasn’t much wind about, the waves churned violently against the rocks at the bottom of the cliffs. Because of the bay, the sea near Arcandis was usually calm.

  Nechil gave a shout when they got close and the White Spider’s mask appeared in one of the windows. He waved them up. The door was battered but had recently been patched up. Nechil led the way up a narrow spiral staircase.

  On the second floor was a large room that was largely empty except for various large baskets and packs along the wall
s. In the center of the room, the White Spider was sitting cross-legged on the floor. “Sit,” he said with the same disembodied voice that Bowe remembered from before, gesturing at the floor before them. Bowe didn’t know whether the voice was due to distortion created by the mask or if it was something he put on for effect. The mask was all white and shaped to give the vague impression of a human face. It had two eyeholes, but the left one was covered up.

  “You must be tired,” the White Spider said. “Knowing Nechil, he pushed you too hard.”

  “He did, at that.” Bowe found a place by the wall and gratefully allowed his legs to collapse. Iyra sat alongside Bowe while Nechil went to stand behind the White Spider.

  “We needed to make sure we got here before Dulnato,” Nechil said.

  “He had to track you, so he couldn’t have left until after first light. You must have a few hours’ head start on him,” the White Spider said.

  “It’s best to be sure,” Nechil said. “I should go back out there and keep an eye out in case he’s closer than we think.”

  He turned to go but the White Spider stopped him. “No, you must rest.”

  “And if Dulnato comes upon us while we’re all up here? This is no time to be leaving anything to chance.”

  “Having everyone alert and rested is more important than anything else. You have walked through half of last night and most of the day. I will keep watch while you three rest.” He went into the corner and took out three blankets. He threw one to each of them. As he caught the blanket, Nechil looked like he hadn’t made up his mind to follow the instructions, but the White Spider put his hand on Nechil’s shoulder. “I insist,” he said.

  Nechil nodded once, then took the blanket over to a corner and wrapped himself up in it. The White Spider picked up a cloak and descended the stairs. “We’ll talk later,” he told Bowe before he disappeared from sight.