Bowe walked down the entrance path. The azure sun was carved into the door—the Bellanger sigil. Bowe ran his fingers along the carving and the door floated open. There was a rattle of footsteps and Bowe jerked back, ready to run. But he smiled when he saw who it was.
Thrace ran at him and encased him in a bear hug, lifting him off his feet. “Not so hard, you big lug,” Bowe protested. “I’m in a fragile state.”
Thrace put Bowe down and his grin disappeared when he focused on Bowe’s missing hand. “I hoped that the newsbards had that wrong.” He shook his head. “I knew it was going to be true, but hoped all the same. You ever do that?”
“All the bloody time.” Bowe hoped that Iyra would forgive him, but he remembered the look she’d given him when she was being dragged away by Coensaw’s men. He wouldn’t give up on her, though—he couldn’t. There was a hollow inside him that ached for her.
“So the talk from the newsbards is that you were captured by the Jarindors, they cut off your hand, you escaped, and now have this great plan to save us all,” Thrace said.
Perhaps Bowe should have been honest with Iyra from the outset and explained why he felt that defeating the Jarindors was best. But would she have understood? Or would she have thought that he didn’t want change because he was an ascor? Would she still have guided him to the city and led him through the tunnel? He hadn’t been able take the risk that she wouldn’t have helped him.
“Bowe,” Thrace said, “you still with me?”
“Yes, sorry, things on my mind. I didn’t exactly escape from the Jarindors—they let me go. And I received medical attention that saved my life that involved having my hand cut off. But other than that, the newsbards have it right.”
“So no more trying to drag you into the training grounds for sword work?” Thrace grinned. “You’ll have too good of an excuse.”
“Well, if I had practiced more when you wanted me to, this might never have happened. Dulnato wouldn’t have defeated me so easily.”
“Dulnato did this.” Thrace thumped his fist into his palm. “I should have gone with you. I should never have stayed here.”
“No. It worked out for the best, I think.”
“Where’s Dulnato now? Do we still have to worry about him?”
“No. He’s dead. The White Spider, too. They killed each other.” This wasn’t the time to reveal that the White Spider had been Jadilla, not Jisri. If there was ever going to be a time.
“So what now? The newsbards report that there will be a meeting with the Guardians here in two days. That’s why I came back. I was half-expecting a trap—that the place would be flooded with Grenier marshals. But here you are, and no marshals. How did you arrange the meeting?”
“It hasn’t been confirmed yet.” That was one of the many risks in Bowe’s plan. He needed a meeting with the other Guardians but he couldn’t exactly just summon them. So, with Coensaw’s help, he’d spread rumors that the Bellanger Guardian had a plan to defeat the Jarindor army and that all the Guardians were meeting in Bellanger Mansion to discuss it. He hoped that they would be both curious to hear what he would say and fearful of blame in not doing everything they could should they not attend. It was a tightrope, though—they could decide that they weren’t going to be forced into anything and arrest Bowe and throw him into the Fortress dungeons.
“What can I do to help?” Thrace asked.
“Can you get in touch with the other Bellanger ascor?” Bowe asked.
“I should be able to, yes.”
“Send for Sindar and Sorrin and Oamir, but forget about Xarcon. Tell them it’s safe to return and that I need them.” “Safe” was an exaggeration, but there was no point in mentioning the tightrope they’d be walking. “See if any of the escay who worked here before will return. And our marshals. The meeting, if it takes place, will be in two days’ time and we have a lot of work to do to get ready for it.”
“Will do. What about Zofila?”
Bowe blinked several times. Bringing her into the picture introduced several complications, but not having her around would introduce too many questions. “Yes, of course. Make sure Zofila returns, too. That goes without saying.”
“No problem.”
Bowe paused, thinking. “When you get in touch with Sorrin, make sure he knows that the first thing he has to do is to send out invitations to the other Guardians. Call it the Arcandis War Council meeting, and make sure that the newswriters know all about the invites.”
Chapter 23
Day 44
Bowe examined himself in the mirror, adjusting the lapel of his cloak. It looked old and faded. He would have given it to one of the maids to spruce up if he’d thought of it earlier, but he had been surprised to even find it. He hadn’t thought that the Grenier marshals and everyone else would leave his possessions untouched while the mansion was empty. But nothing had been taken, and at the bottom of a chest he found his famous azure costume. It had been with him for many successful battles during the Green Path. It was his armor, for an ascor won his most important battles in the banquet hall.
The door opened and closed. Bowe glanced behind, saw Zofila, and went back to studying himself. You are ready, he told himself.
Zofila walked across to stand behind Bowe. “I remember that cloak.” She brushed the top of his shoulders. “You really fill it out now.”
“Not quite.” Bowe shook his empty sleeve.
“A war wound,” Zofila said. “It makes you look even more striking.” She reached up from behind and touched the light purple bruise at the top of his cheek “This does take away from the effect, however. It looks like it was caused by a lovers quarrel.”
What rumors have been going around about that? Bowe wondered. He twisted away from her touch. “Are the other Guardians here? Is it time?”
“Before that, we have to talk,” Zofila said. “You’ve been ignoring me.”
“Not now. The Arcandis War Council meeting is about to start—it might end up being the most important meeting in our lifetime.”
“How grand you make it sound. How grand you make yourself sound.” Bowe brushed passed her and made for the door, but she darted in front of him and pressed her back against the door, blocking him. “Since you are so important, the others can wait for you. You can take a moment to talk to your wife.”
Bowe reached around her for the handle. “Don’t be childish. This isn’t the time.”
“I dressed up for you. Do I not look like a Guardian’s wife?” Zofila said.
Bowe noticed for the first time the elegant sky-blue gown she wore. It showed off her figure, and she’d used a light and skillful touch in applying makeup. He had never seen her looking as well.
“You look nice,” he said. “Now can we go?”
“I didn’t wear it for the compliments. I wore it because I thought you wanted to present the appearance that this is a great House that’s been going on as normal all this time. To show that you’re a Guardian in total control who only left to fight the Jarindors and return with a plan for the salvation of us all.”
“Yes, that’s what I want. That’s why I brought you all back here.”
“I thought you brought us back because we’re your family and you love us and need us.” Zofila arched her back against the door.
Bowe used that opportunity to reach behind her and twist the handle. The door opened and Zofila half-fell backward. Bowe squeezed past her.
“You won’t look like such a commanding and composed figure if your wife is weeping beside you,” Zofila called after him. “You know how much I cry when I’m upset.” She pulled down her lower lip with her forefinger, looked down at the ground.
“Bowe, they’re all here.” Bowe turned to see Sorrin coming up the stairs. His gaze skirted past Bowe to Zofila at the bedroom and he swallowed. “You should go down.”
Sorrin had avoided Bowe as much as possible these last two days, and hadn’t once looked him in the eye. But he’d done great work in getting the dinn
er organized and bringing back the escay and marshals to Bellanger Mansion.
Bowe looked back at where Zofila was still presenting her sad face and sighed. “I’ll be down shortly.” He went back into the bedroom and closed the door when she followed him in.
“Crying in front of the Guardians. Are you threatening me?” he asked.
Zofila put on a mock dumb-male voice. “Are you threatening me?” She went to the bed and sat down, then continued in a normal voice. “Is that what the cut and thrust of the ascorim has become for you? Coarse accusations and threats? You’ll want to be a bit better than that downstairs.”
Bowe sat down beside Zofila. “Let’s try some plain speaking for a while. We are man and wife, after all. Why’d you have to go and do it? You and Sorrin.”
“It just happened.”
“And is it going to stop happening?”
Zofila shook her head slowly back and forth. “Do you care?”
“Of course I care. Ascor don’t divorce. I can’t have my best friend running around with my wife.”
“No.” Zofila put a hand on Bowe’s shoulder and looked him directly in the eyes. “Do you care?”
“For myself, no.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not. I was put out at first. I couldn’t understand...”
“We were never husband and wife, not really.”
Bowe raised his eyebrows at her and gave her a small smile. “We certainly weren’t. I’d remember something like that.”
“I’d like to say you didn’t miss out, but I didn’t come here to lie.” She returned his smile. “But you know what I mean. We were never meant to be together. Remember how you asked me to marry you.”
“That was something.” Zofila and Sindar had embarrassed him into making a proper proposal. “If only we’d married you to Sorrin then. There’d be no problem now.”
Zofila nodded. “Who was to know? The question is what do we do now? Sorrin doesn’t know what to say to you. He’s burning up on the inside with guilt.”
“His guilt didn’t stop him, did it? Didn’t stop him from stealing my wife while living in my house.”
“Your house—will you stop? This is the Bellanger Mansion and Sorrin and I are both Bellangers. You might be the most important person here, but the Bellangers are not just about you. We fell in love—it was no one’s fault. It wasn’t a choice, and I often wish it hadn’t happened. From the moment we fell in love, there were no good paths to take. Love can be more misery than happiness, I’ve learned, but we can’t just stop loving each other.”
Bowe thought about Iyra and sighed. “I’ll talk to Sorrin. Do others know about this? People who’ll talk to the newsbards.”
“Not that I know of. And why would they? Sorrin was chastely hiding me from the Grenier marshals while we waited for the return of our glorious leader.”
“Keep it like that. Maybe at some stage things will change but for now no one can know about this situation. We’ll work something out between the three of us when things settle back to normal.” Bowe stood up and held out his arm. “Are you ready?”
Zofila took his arm. “I am, indeed.”
“You’re not going to cry now, are you?”
“Certainly not.” She gave him a dazzling smile. “Life is wonderful.”
Bowe descended the stairs with Zofila on his arm. True to her word, she did make him feel more like a powerful Guardian as she glided alongside him, holding firmly to his arm and smiling down on those watching. The other Guardians were already in the dining hall, so it was only the servants and marshals down in the lower hall that saw them descending, but this was a stage, and Bowe had to perform for everyone here. Newswriters had their sources and Bowe hoped for this to be reported by the newsbards tomorrow as his triumphant return.
Bowe led Zofila into the dining hall. Everyone else was already seated, but they all rose as Bowe and Zofila walked in. Bowe nodded to each of the Guardians in turn, then sat. The table was made of varnished dark wood and supported by thick carved legs, and could seat twenty people. The Guardians and their head wives were seated closest to Bowe, with Sorrin, Thrace, Sindar, and Oamir farther down the table. Stenesso was on one side of the table with Kesirran and Sorani on the other side. Just like three years ago, Bowe wanted to set up a division between Stenesso and the other two Guardians.
“Thank you all for coming,” Bowe said. “These are dark days for Arcandis, but we will come through it. When the four great families put their minds together, there’s nothing we can’t achieve.”
“Thanks for hosting us,” Sorani said. “I haven’t been to Bellanger Mansion in a while, but now that I see what a spread you can put on for us, we’ll be meeting here more often, I’m sure.”
Bowe nodded. “Of course.”
“We find you in good health?” Stenesso asked. His eyes darted down to Bowe’s right arm.
“I’ve had some troubles.” Bowe placed his right elbow on the table and let the sleeve fall down enough to show the bandaged stump. There was no point in hiding it, so he might as well show it off. Take pride in the sacrifice he had made for this country. “It’s not so bad. I wanted to take up stitching when I got older, but I’ll have to give up on that dream.” Bowe chuckled. “I’ve found that most things can be done nearly as well with one hand as with two, though my writing is atrocious with my left. I passed down a note that said, ‘Thank the cook,’ and the servants questioned Sorrin as to what I meant when I asked for the moon to be spanked.” That was greeted by laughter around the table, though not much from the Guardians themselves. “More seriously, if the knowledge I gained proves to be key to ending the Jarindor threat, then it will have been a worthwhile loss.”
“The Jarindors will be dealt with,” Stenesso said, “without needing all of this running around the countryside pretending to be escay.”
Bowe’s smile hardened as he faced Stenesso. He hadn’t expected an outright attack; the ascorim tended toward subtle jabs and sly hints. But if that was the way Stenesso wanted it, Bowe was prepared.
“Yes, I lived disguised as an escay for a while. It was necessary to reclaim the Bellanger holdings that were lost to my family. And I succeeded.” The only thing worse than being an escay in ascor eyes was being a failure.
“You succeeded at nothing.” Stenesso stood up, his palms pressed against the table. “You mean that ridiculous rumor that some of the Belldeem marshals claimed Bellanger protection.”
Bowe leaned back in his chair and smiled. Stenesso’s anger was proof enough that it was more than a rumor. “Sit,” Bowe said. “Enjoy your meal. We can handle such internal disputes once we have dealt with the Jarindors.”
Stenesso grabbed his wife’s arm. “We’re going.”
Sorani stood. “We agreed to have this meeting for the good of Arcandis. I don’t believe you should leave just yet.” The two Guardians stared at each other, then Stenesso snorted and sat.
The rest of the meal passed without incident. Sorani and Kesirran chatted about nothing important, while Stenesso smiled and tried to pretend he wasn’t angry.
After dinner, Bowe led the other Guardians into a room to the side of the dining hall. The room was bare of furnishing except for four chairs arranged facing each other. The chairs were placed as if for a Harmony game, just without the table and board. Kesirran leaned heavily on his walking stick, as they walked across the room and sat.
Sorani looked around. “You’re sure this is private? Nowhere for servants to eavesdrop?”
“As long as we remain close to the center of the room and don’t shout everything, we won’t be overheard.”
“What’s your game?” Sorani was the one who looked angry now. “You spread rumors about a meeting here before even inviting us. Then you claim to be the Arcandis’ only hope against the Jarindors. You’re lucky we didn’t send a troop of marshals to wipe out the Bellanger family once and for all.”
“As should have happened a long time ago,” Stenesso said.
>
“I’m sorry,” Bowe said, but he didn’t sound contrite. “I’m sorry I forced the meeting in this way. But it’s true that I have a plan, a way to end this and win. The Jarindor army will be here soon. This was the only way I could think of to get a meeting this quickly.”
“We’re ready to take on the Jarindors,” Stenesso said. “My marshals are ready to fight. We will defeat them outside the walls when they come or die.”
“Most likely die,” Bowe said. “How did your defense of the coastline go when the Jarindors attacked? I was in one of the watchtowers when they came. It was unmanned and falling down. Isn’t that one of the jobs of the Grenier marshals. Aside from policing, you should provide protection from external attack. Don’t the other families pay the Greniers every year for that service?”
“The Bellanger family haven’t paid me in quite a while,” Stenesso said.
“That watchtower wasn’t manned in about the same length of time,” Bowe said. When the Greniers had received control of the Bellanger holdings, they took marshals who had previously been manning the watchtowers and used them in Belldeem and the neighboring areas.
“We know about that already,” Sorani said. “The Greniers will have plenty to answer for when this is over.”
“There was nothing that could be done,” Stenesso said. “Manned watchtowers wouldn’t have made a difference. The problem was with the escay. We discovered that the Guild conspired with the Jarindor spy who stayed in Arcandis for several weeks three years ago. The Guild has obviously been feeding our enemies information.”
“And if they let the Jarindors know that the coastal watchtowers were bristling with defenders, perhaps they would never have come,” Sorani said.
“This isn’t about Stenesso,” Kesirran said. “This is about Bowe and his plan. The only way to victory, the newsbards proclaimed. What is this magical way forward? It had better be good.”
“I agree,” Sorani said. “I hope you didn’t bring us here, Bowe, just so you could have a slinging match with Stenesso.”
The Narrowing Path: The Complete Trilogy (The Narrowing Path Series Book 4) Page 46
