Lord Verras refused to answer.
Leymonn chuckled as he opened the door to leave. “I thought as much. I’ll expect news from you soon.”
Lord Verras locked the door the moment Leymonn left. Then he marched over to the desk. “Lord Cinnan had a map of the caves with other paths in and out of the city.”
He riffled through papers and books, then peered at me. “You’re wondering why I kept such a valuable map out on the desk.”
I shook my head. “I’m wondering how you could possibly find it. I could hide a small giant on that desk.”
He smiled and returned to digging. When he located the map, he spread it out before us—more a caress than an attempt to make it lie flat. I’d never seen anything like it—a series of caterpillars lying outside the straight edges of the castle rooms.
“Lord Cinnan had this made ages ago, though I think it was a retracing of an earlier map. Here is the entrance from this room.” Lord Verras pointed to a spot, and then his finger traced a series of tunnels. “And this is the path we took to visit the king your first day here.”
He stabbed a section just beyond those lines. “There used to be a tunnel that led to the cliffs, though it collapsed years ago. A similar path would be a safer way out of Reggen than a boat down the Kriva. We just need to find it.”
“Without telling Leymonn? Without any other help?”
“I don’t want Leymonn to know about a route to the cliffs. He’s too intent on escape.”
I thought of all the people Lord Verras must know in the castle. “I’m sure you can find a few people to search the caves.”
“I know of one.”
I heard the answer in his voice. When I looked up, I saw it confirmed in his face.
“No. No! I hate the caves. It’s like being buried one stone at a time.”
“We have days, Saville.”
I crossed my arms. “We need to visit the princess. You told her you’d come …” I sighed. “… and you can tell her that her errand girl will be busy.”
Chapter 25
That afternoon, Lord Verras showed me how to systematically explore the tunnels. We would tie a rope to a rock formation near the entrance and unwind its length as we followed a path.
It was my idea to cut strips of linen and use them to mark the route instead.
Lord Verras liked the idea, though he warned me to secure the fabric. “Don’t just leave it where it could slip.” When I rolled my eyes, he’d smiled and added, “It’s a fine idea, though. Trust a tailor to think of using fabric.”
I was so surprised by the praise that I didn’t even mind being called a tailor.
I hated the caves at first. I’d eyed the stone and wondered how it would feel to be buried beneath it. Yet the longer I explored, the more I enjoyed traveling among the stone pillars. It wasn’t safe, but it … it reminded me of when the giant scouts had knelt before me. It was storms and mountains and seas; fear and joy twisted so tightly together I couldn’t tell them apart.
The next day, while Lord Verras was occupied with the king, I explored the caves alone, searching for a tunnel that would lead to the cliffs.
And I found it.
I was so excited I could hardly tie the linen strip around the formation at the beginning of the new tunnel. Grinning, I threw the satchel of strips over my shoulder, collected my lantern and map, and picked my way back to Lord Verras’s room.
The cave was covered with older markings, white blazes of paint that shone out in the light from the lantern. One day, when I had more time, I’d come back and explore the rest of the marked paths. But first, I had to tell Lord Verras.…
He was waiting for me when I squeezed back into his room.
“What took you so long? I was about to come after you.”
“I found it.”
“A tunnel?” He didn’t smile as I’d expected. Why was he so distracted?
“The tunnel. I could see daylight at the end of it!” I shrugged out of the coat he’d made me wear. “It goes up to the top of the cliffs, though someone will have to clear away a small mountain of rubble first.”
“Saville, you need to—”
“I could only reach my hand out of it, but I can’t tell you how good the sun felt on my fingertips! I used a triple knot in the linen to mark where the tunnel branches off. You know what that looks like, don’t you?”
“Saville!” He slapped the table to get my attention. “It’s the Tailor. You need to go see him.”
The walls of Lord Verras’s room retreated till they seemed leagues away. And there still wasn’t enough room to breathe.
“Now?” I whispered.
He nodded.
I turned back to the map. “There,” I said, pointing to the passage. My voice sounded foreign to me. “That’s it. I marked it with—”
“—a triple knot. I know. Just go, Saville. You need to go.”
I ran to the Tailor’s room, hardly aware of the corridors I threaded. When I reached the door, a doctor stood outside, face impassive.
“Where is Lord Verras?” he asked.
“He sent me,” I gasped.
The doctor’s forehead wrinkled. “Why you?”
I reached around him. “That is my business.”
I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, leaning back against it. The sound of my breath slapped against the walls, loud as words. It wasn’t until I saw the Tailor so still on the bed that I realized how restless he’d been even after the apoplexy. He was dead. He’d never lie so still otherwise.
I slid down the door and sat crouched on the floor, knees against my chest. I couldn’t get a deep enough breath.
“No,” I whispered against my clenched hands. “No. You can’t leave me like this.”
I slammed my fists on the ground, glad for the sting and scrape of the stone floor, and pushed myself to standing. The room tipped around me as I walked to the bed.
Someone had pulled the blankets up to the Tailor’s chest and folded his hands.
I looked down at his face, looking for … What was it I hoped to see? Some hint that he was sorry for dragging me to Reggen, so far from Mama’s grave and my friends? A clue that he wished I, instead of the trunk of his precious fabric, had been by his bed these last days?
For the first time in my life, I stood in the room with the Tailor and wasn’t battered by his anger, his disapproval. It was an empty, echoing sort of peace, like the quiet after shouting. I pulled the Tailor’s trunk beside his bed and sat on it, peering down at him.
“Do you know how little I wanted from you?” I asked, my voice strong and steady, as though I could reach beyond death and make him hear me. “I wanted you to love me as much as your silks. I wanted to sit beside you and not fear what you’d do or say!”
All the words I had longed to speak to him. A life’s worth. And they didn’t change the silence, didn’t make me feel lighter for speaking them. I laughed, more a ragged sigh than anything.
For the last time, I put a hand over the Tailor’s. He was already cooling, his skin dry and rough. “Oh, Papa …,” I whispered. “It’s too late for wanting, isn’t it? It was too late years ago.”
And then I was humming the giants’ melody I’d heard out on the walls, the one that made me think of hearth fires and home. Except I sang of a father I’d never known and a home I’d never return to. The melody became a sort of tears. I keened the song until the strange syllables I remembered were as real as stone, more present than sorrow.
A long while later, I heard a knock, and Lord Verras slipped inside, closing the door behind him. “Saville, I’m so sorry.”
The tears that wouldn’t come earlier caught in my throat. How comforting it would be to have Lord Verras pull me close and—
I shook my head. “Please. Don’t be nice. I’ll—” Break.
He grimaced, then seemed to understand and perhaps even feel relieved.
“Why are you here?” I prompted.
“Leymonn has demanded
that you come to the balcony and address the people. They’re terrified. The duke has been putting on a show. The giants have been engaging in trials of strength since sunrise.”
He raised his eyebrows: should he go on?
I nodded.
“I tried to tell Leymonn”—Lord Verras’s gaze dropped to the Tailor—“but he wouldn’t hear of it. You need to be on the balcony in an hour’s time. After that, I promise you can go wherever you wish.”
“What will happen to the Tailor?”
He sighed. “Most people are buried out beyond the Kriva, but now … we’ll have to burn him, Saville. You’ll have the ashes.”
“When?”
Lord Verras swallowed. “Now.”
Releasing the Tailor’s hand was harder than I would have thought. I settled it back on his chest, then followed Lord Verras out of the room.
I did not look back.
Chapter 26
The shouts of the people beat against me as I stood on the balcony, their fear real as the summer heat. Yet neither their fear nor the heat could touch me.
I kept feeling the Tailor’s cold hand beneath mine.
Finally, I roused myself and shouted something about courage and hope, and about how I would help them. I thought of the time I’d spent in the caves. That, at least, was not a lie. I hummed some of the giants’ song as I left the balcony.
Lord Verras was waiting. “What song is that?”
“The first one we heard on the walls.” I rubbed my forehead as if that might clear my muddled thoughts. “I like it.”
“Like it?” he echoed. “Have you forgotten what we saw in the camp?”
I shook my head. “It was lovely and …” It was all I had to hold on to.
“I—I shouldn’t have mentioned it.” He stepped close, eyes worried. “Saville, go rest. You can stay in my room. I’ll give you all the privacy you need. Just …” He shook his head. “… look to yourself.”
I must take care of myself. No Mama to hold me close. No friend in the castle to let me sit beside her and cry. I looked at the man before me, dark head bent, eyes that witnessed how deeply I grieved, even if I didn’t want them to.
I’d see so little of him once the giants were gone. There’d be no reason to talk in his rooms or walk out with him on the ramparts.
There was no Lord Verras for me, not really.
He disappeared behind a blur of tears. I turned on my heel before he could see them and ran. He called after me, but I didn’t stop.
And he didn’t follow.
I went to his room anyway. I closed the door, locked it, and sat slowly in a chair—Lord Verras’s chair, the one that smelled like ink. The grief was like a toothache: gnawing, twisting pain. I couldn’t stay still, I—
Where had Lord Verras put the map? I wouldn’t desert Will, but I could leave Reggen for a little, couldn’t I?
I darted to Lord Verras’s desk, wondering how he could find anything in those piles. Yet he’d notice if they’d been pawed through. He noticed every detail.
I didn’t care.
I rummaged through the papers until I found the map and spread it before me, humming the giants’ tune. I wouldn’t take the tunnel to the cliffs. Or the one to the East Guardian’s head. I finally found one that led to the river. I could swim out of the city entirely.
To the giants’ camp.
I’d visit the giants. Hadn’t I been wanting to all along?
I traced the path with my finger. It was one of the older tunnels, but it led to the banks of the Kriva right below where the walls met the cliffs.
Leymonn said the river might mask the sound of a boat. Why couldn’t it conceal me? I’d swim toward the boulders on the opposite shore, where Lord Verras swam as a child. The roar of the water would be even louder there.
There was more to this war with the giants than the duke’s claims to the throne, more than Lord Verras believed. And if I went on the adventure so I wouldn’t have to sit and cry myself pale and tired, well, that was my choice.
I looked down at my clothing. The champion’s pants were too fine for an evening in the Kriva. I went to one of the cupboards in the corner. Just as I’d suspected, Lord Verras had tucked some clothing away—he had everything here. I flipped through the pile until I found a pair of homespun pants, wrinkling my nose when I pulled them out. Where had he worn them last? The stables?
I glanced over my shoulder at the locked door, then quickly changed into the reeking pants, cinching them around my waist with a belt. One last look around the room before I left …
Will.
I went back to Lord Verras’s desk and found a sheet of paper and ink. I would return safely, but Will deserved something, just in case.
Will,
I hope I’m able to come back and burn this note. But if you are reading this, I’ve failed, and I’m sorry. When you see your father again, be sure to tell him how brave you’ve been. He will be as proud of you as I am.
With all my
I paused, pen hovering above the paper. Hadn’t I learned that words left unspoken wounded as much as those that were?
heart, and with all my love,
Saville
Chapter 27
I reached the beginning of the tunnel to the Kriva in no time. Holding the lantern aloft, I squinted down at the map in my hand. I wanted to race down the tunnel, but there could be no hurrying. I needed to mark my path with linen strips so I could retrace my steps when I returned. I reached for my satchel.
Nothing. I’d left it in Lord Verras’s room. I looked behind me, shadows flowing like water as the lantern moved. All I wanted to do was leave the castle and listen to the Kriva, let it drown the grief inside me.
And then there were the giants.
“I’m not going back for it,” I muttered.
I set the lantern down and pulled out the tails of my shirt. It was good linen and hard to rip. Perhaps Lord Verras’s pants …
The worn homespun tore much more easily. I sat down and worked at the pants legs until I had a fistful of strips. Finally, I stood and followed the map through the tunnel, dropping a strip every few steps.
The path to the Kriva had not been lost, though I did have to squeeze sideways through two rockfalls. I had three strips of homespun remaining when I neared the tunnel’s end.
I heard the song of the river first, the hushed roar of water. A few more steps, and I saw the slice of silver-blue moonlight. I snuffed out the lantern and tucked the map beside it.
Then I walked out onto the banks of the Kriva, picking my way through branches tangled with fishing twine, which shone like spider silk in the moonlight. Reggen’s walls rose up on my left. I looked across the river. The far bank was dotted with giant campfires. Campfires I didn’t have to visit.
I pulled in a deep breath, closed my eyes, and let the river sing to me while frogs chanted a chorus.
Then I opened my eyes and stepped into the Kriva.
I waded into the deep water as quickly as I could—I wouldn’t splash as much there. Then, blessing the summers Mama had let me play in the millpond near Danavir, I let the current catch me and bear me downriver to the boulders Lord Verras had shown me. Water foamed around them, and I aimed for the bank just above them.
The current tugged at me as I drew near the boulders, and I let it carry me partway around them, their sharp edges jabbing my arms and shoulders. The moment I saw a handhold, I pulled myself up out of the water, hoping the river masked the sound of my flopping up onto that slab.
I rested there a moment, my cheek pressed against the stone. It was still warm from the sun and was strangely comforting, even as I listened for shouts that the giants had discovered me.
Finally, I pushed myself up. I couldn’t see much—only smears of movement against the campfires. The giants looked even bigger as the fire threw long, lurching shadows across the ground. Once, I thought I heard singing, but I wasn’t sure. The Kriva kept the giants from hearing me, but it also muffled their conv
ersations. Even so, I heard giants talking in the same low rolling tones as the scouts had, their voices like storms singing.
A long shadow fell over me.
I froze. It’s just the fire that throws the shadow so far.
My heart would have nothing of it. My pulse roared as loud as the river—
Fingers thick as human legs wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my sides. The campfires tilted as I was yanked high into the air, too surprised to scream.… A great splash of water as the giant waded into the Kriva. I spluttered in the spray, trying to breathe.
It was going to drown me.
I fought, kicking and twisting. I even tried to bite one of the fingers, but the skin was thick as hide. The hand around me tightened, and my vision danced.
Finally, I felt ground beneath my toes, and the hand released me. I fell to my hands and knees, pulling in great gulps of air. When I raised my head, I saw him, a giant standing over me. I tried to scurry back on all fours, but collided with rock.
“Sit,” commanded the giant in a voice like thunder. I could hear the flash of anger in it.
Why was he angry? My eyes never left his face as I reached a trembling hand behind me, feeling for a place to perch. I’d dive away if he so much as twitched, even though I was still within easy reach of those long arms.
I risked one look around me. We were on the island in the middle of the river, Lord Verras’s island. A stand of trees shielded us from the giants’ camp.
The giant folded himself to sitting, his feet almost close enough to touch me. Too close. In the moonlight, I could see he was clean-shaven, with a long straight nose and thick hair. A pick was strapped to his back. He didn’t speak a word, but there was no hiding his fury. His breath rolled out in gusts, his hands were clenched. He looked at me as though I were a blight he longed to stamp out.
And he could if he wanted to. Finally, he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, and stared at me with a ferocity I’d never seen in the scouts’ eyes.
Valiant Page 16
