by D. H. Aire
His dagger was taken from his side. Terhun was not particularly concerned; it was after all only one of many. "I do believe you have me at a disadvantage."
The man behind him chuckled, "Not according to the boss, there." A blade prodded him forward; Terhun entered the common room.
Terhun stared. "I won't say it's a pleasure seeing you.”
"I believe we've some business to discuss," the seated, black cloaked man said.
Knowing the man's regular business, Terhun replied, "I most sincerely doubt that."
"Oh, I've rescued twelve today. How well have you done?"
Terhun blinked at Gabriol and quickly re-evaluated his assumptions. Perhaps, they had something to discuss after all.
Pushing aside the sewer lid, Gallen glanced about him at the street of the Sixth Tier. The stench was awful, but Gallen had made his way out of the Seventh.
Seeing no one, Gallen climbed out with difficulty, then tried to ascertain just where he was. The lateness of the hour helped not at all. With a sigh, Gallen oriented himself and headed further up-Tier, toward the only welcome he could hope for-- and dreading it.
Chapter
6
At the foot of the stairs, Cle'or paced. Me'oh had long since given up trying to console her as reports came in about the Gallen's urchins. Instead, she chose to merely doze accepting what comforts the dining table chair afforded, her advancing pregnancy making the seat almost a luxury.
The only reason Cle'or remained at the house at all was by Se'and's force of will. "You may plan and order others not of this House as you see fit. But the security of this House takes precedence. Here you will remain."
Miserable as that obedience left her, Cle'or gave orders specific enough to send the two dwarves Tett and Spiro scurrying off with their full contingent of dwarven guards from the House. A messenger from her lord Balfour at the Healer's Hall informed her of urchins safely reaching his Hall, which only heightened Cle'or concern.
She shook her head, feeling she had made a mess of things by involving the children. Excellent spies they might make, but this price was much too high. Now if only Terhun or the dwarves would get back to her with further news. Retribution upon their enemies that would attack children, boys – so few a precious in her distant land of Cathart, drove her thoughts. The urchins were clever and had had only each other for protection until she began meddling in their lives. For the Houses of Je'orj and Balfour she had dared much creating a network of informers that roamed the lower tiers at will.
"What have I done?" she muttered, forlorn. She, a trained champion, with the battle scars from years of honing her skills was supposed to be free of such emotion, inured to it, even under the pressure of direct threat to her House.
At the sound of a coach drawing up the drive, Cle'or was uncertain if she desired more news of the urchins or the return of Lord Je'orj. If their lord human mage were he, he would set matters aright... Wouldn't he?
Fri'il called down, "We've another messenger it seems."
It was truly exasperating. Irin had no desire to argue with the stocky and grim looking dwarf, Geofrei, this early in the morning.
"I tell you, missing it is! I count everything last night very precise. We have unaccounted for food!"
"You counted it," Irin mused at the aggrieved dwarf, who she was hardly taller than. "Do you always count everything in the cupboard before bed and after rising?"
"Why, of course, Mistress. Does not every conscientious dwarf?"
She sighed, having no answer for that. Instead, she considered asking her husband Lucian to try dealing with this, then instantly thought better of it. Elves and dwarves had disliked each other, the saying went, "since the Elfking cursed their human forebears to diminutive size."
"So, I take it, we've some food missing this morning. Just what, pray tell?"
Geofrei frowned exasperatedly, "I told you I counted. I tell you because humans supposedly good observers. So, you look and tell me what missing!'"
Of course, Irin thought, wondering how her father would have dealt with such reasoning. So, to the cupboard they marched to see just what he was complaining about.
Clawd was first to wake, hearing shouting upstairs. He looked past the storage boxes, noting the crumbs and fruit peelings strewn about the injured and exhausted boys he had covered with the blankets he had stolen from upstairs.
Fearing discovery, Clawd wondered at the ill luck that provided for their needs in a building long thought to remain abandoned. Clawd let the blanket that covered him fall from his shoulders. Naked and cold, he paused by the foul smelling ashes of the fire he had made by the window, carefully bestowing heat to the cellar as well as assuring that the rags they had worn would leave no mage a focus to track them here.
Ruke never stirred as he quietly awaked the others. He glanced back at the unconscious urchin lieutenant, who he had bandaged as best he could. The bleeding had stopped, but Ruke looked fevered, clearly needing more help than he could provide here.
Motioning each urchin to silence, he furtively moved to the cellar steps, listened to the arguing, then warily ascended careful to make no sound.
What should I do? I can't leave them here and just hope to find help in time. He looked to the cellar door he passed through earlier during the dead of night, then glanced over at the boarded window they had all squeezed through, hoping this was truly sanctuary.
Nothing to it now, but to learn how great a disaster he had brought them to. He took another step toward the door and the clearer sounds of voices.
The crisp smell of morning was on the night air as Gallen half staggered in exhaustion across the Third Tier. No one saw him pass as the sky began to show the first hint of violet. A dog sniffed the air as he entered the final avenue leading to his goal.
Imperial Guards stationed just ahead, he walked blithely past, drawing no notice. He paused a moment before crossing the thin veil of their ward line. His passage caused not the slightly twinge of the ward, yet once clear Gallen felt even more drained.
He leaned against the courtyard wall, catching his breath before proceeding to the rear door of the home of Je'orj Bradlei, the world's only human mage.
Lucian was mildly puzzled as he looked about the display area. The Merchant House of Jeo d’Aere was soon to open to the public, offering dwarven goods in abundance as well as wares from the Lyia Province. The merchandise was being sorted for display and was by no means looking organized, yet something was amiss.
The room seemed disturbed, but nothing looked clearly wrong. He shook his head and vaguely realized that Irin and Geofrei had finally stopped arguing.
He headed back to the kitchen they communally shared with Geofrei's family and saw the look of surprise on Irin's face as she glanced from the cupboard. Seeing her elvin husband, she muttered gravely, "We're missing food. At least one loaf of bread I baked yesterday and some of the fruit Geofrei's wife picked up at the market two days ago. You haven't been snacking during the night, have you?"
The dwarf looked positively smug at Irin's announcement.
The cellar door creaked so faintly that no one other than an elf could have heard its motion. Lucian just looked at Irin, "No, Ma’am, I have not. But, you know, I've a feeling that's not the only thing."
Shocked, Geofrei shouted, "Not the trade goods!"
"I don't know for certain yet," Lucian replied evenly, then moved so quickly he appeared a blur. His crooked hand flung the cellar door wide as he grabbed up the startled small naked figure concealed behind it, who lashed out at him with a scream.
Clawd had frowned in concentration, struggling to hear the voices more clearly as he spied them from the top step, screened by the heavy wood cellar door.
There was a girl's voice he found vaguely familiar before he heard the arrival of a third person. Fearing that they might suspect they had been robbed, he opened the door the merest crack and leaned closer, careful to not make a sound.
Abruptly, the door was flung wide
and he was hefted into the air. He lashed out, screaming as loud as he could, hoping the others, wounded as they were could ready themselves for what may.
He kicked and lashed out with his hands, freeing himself at last with difficulty as the elf dropped him. The dwarf grabbed him up shouting, "I got him!"
The boy bit down hard and moved to run into the shop, desperate to lead them away from discovering his companions below.
"Clawd!" the girl shouted in recognition and dismay.
He instantly stopped struggling, while the dwarf cursed. Clawd stared at her.
Lucian caught his breath and stopped trying to reach the little thief. "Don't tell me, he was a guest at our wedding, dear."
Irin angrily straightened. "Running through a person's house without a stitch and taking what is easily offered is hardly what I would call polite, Clawd."
"Your house, Miss Irin?" he replied in astonished relief before fainting.
One moment they were exiting the Guild and in the next they were in a forest.
Revit and Terus glanced about them in wonder as Je'orj sighed and brought his staff up in readiness to ward whatever might happen next. Raven sniffed the air and glanced back.
"Great," George muttered. "Now where are we and where has Aaprin gotten himself off to?"
:I can sense position; although, it is a bit vague. :Coordinating data, using one of the old tapestries they had purchased in Lyai, provided a basic, if long dated map of the Imperial Capital, which flashed through George's mind.
"The Second Tier?" he muttered.
:Also, have you noticed that Raven appears rather unconcerned, George,: Staff commented as the minutes past and nothing harmful leapt out at them.
Terus scratched his head, "Uh, Master, perhaps we should knock or something."
"Knock?"
Revit nodded, "You don't mean what I think you mean."
"Of course, I do. Only place we could be. Someone's home."
:Home,: Staff mused intrigued, :in a forest?:
"Well, not exactly," Terus offered. “We’re Underhill.”
Then someone came marching from the woods, "Ah, there you are. Right on time, I see. Her ladyship will be pleased."
George gaped at the man dressed as a formal butler out of Earth's past. "Oh, do come this way, please. Would anyone care for some tea?"
:George—:
"I know," he mumbled.
'That man does not exist, but something is there.'
"Tea will be fine, thank you," George hazarded as they walked into the forest. Occasionally, they passed open areas bracketed by bookshelves, bedecked as patios, or open-air great dining halls.
Revit and Terus stared about them in astonishment until they arrived in a clearing with a view of rolling hills and white lawn chairs.
With startling abruptness, the butler was gone and a young elvin girl sat watching them from the plushest chair. "Welcome, George Bradlei, I do hope I've gotten the pronunciation correct. It has been so long since the language was spoken here, one never can be quite certain, you know."
"Close enough, thank you, my lady."
Raven padded forward and offered her furred mane for petting. The elvin girl smiled radiantly and stroked her fur. "Uh, please stand up and let me get a proper look at you."
Rising on her haunches, Raven shimmered into human form. The elf smiled delightedly, "You are beautiful, child. You should stay in true form move often."
"As should you," Raven replied with a small smile.
The elvin girl laughed, "Oh, your foster daughter has a facile mind, Lord George."
Revit and Terus gaped as the elvin girl shimmered, glowing with a radiance that was brighter than the sun. Where the girl had sat, now an elvin woman with lustrous blond hair rested.
"Might I have the pleasure of knowing to whom I am addressing?" George asked, making a gracious bow.
"So courtly," the elvin girl's voice continued from the mature lips of the woman. "I am Karolynia of the High Court."
Revit and Terus paled and together mentally sent, 'Lord Senason's mother!'
"Lady, I am honored."
She stroked Raven's cheek, then settled the girl on her lap. Raven purred and put her arms around the elvin woman's neck. A tear welled in Karolynia's eye. "I rarely travel abroad, Lord Mage, but events of late have been rather painful. I have had many guests offering me a great deal of advice. They suggest that no matter that the Empress holds you in no way responsible for my Senason's death, I should still come out against you publicly."
George simply waited as Revit and Terus looked at each other nervously. Raven was clearly asleep in the woman's arms and she was supposed to be their master's bodyguard. They held hands nervously.
"Do you know that each of the One Hundred Houses that built this
Empire, supporting the Guardian of the Gate— he who is now called Highmage, has a vote at the Conclave?"
Chapter
7
Gallen reached the back door, leaned against it and heard the voices inside. He knocked ever so faintly.
When the door opened, Gallen stumbled forward right into the arms of the startled apprentice, a trace of jelly on the corner of his lips.
Aaprin called out for Cle'or as he hurriedly assisted the exhausted urchin inside. At sight of the urchin leader, Cle'or gasped, then carefully looked outside to see if anyone had observed Gallen's arrival before she firmly secured the door.
"Boy, does he smell," Aaprin gasped as he half carried Gallen past worried Se'and to the dining area and settled, Gallen, at Me'oh's urging, into a chair.
Se'and mused, "This is a clever one to get past all those guards." Cle'or nodded as Me'oh examined him, while carefully trying to ignore the foul odor permeating every inch of her charge.
"Gotta get them help," the urchin rasped.
"We already know, Gallen. Help's been sent," averred Cle'or with an anxious glance at Se'and for reassurance.
Continuing to weakly struggle against Me'oh's attempt to examine him, the Cathartan healer urged, "Enough of this child, you're safe. Just let me do what I do best."
Gallen still struggled occasionally, his eyes fighting to focus as Me'oh announced, "There's no sign of broken ribs or other wounds. He's just bruised and exhausted."
"Besides the smell," Aaprin said, looking down at his clothes which were grossly smeared.
Cle'or angrily ordered, "Then, lad, you've set yourself quite a task."
He gawked, "Me, Lady?"
"You heard her, Aaprin," Se'and confirmed exasperatedly. "You bathe him and put him to bed in your room. And any other word and he gets your bed and you the floor!"
"Yes, Ma’am."
Gallen understood hardly a word as he was carried up the stairs by Cle'or, Se'and, and Aaprin. That help had been sent was all he cared about.
At the scent of warm water, Gallen sobered. He was alone with the Aaprin, who had disrobed and was now grimacing, trying to peel away Gallen's fouled clothing.
Instantly, Gallen shoved Aaprin back. "No!"
"Hey, it's all right! You're safe. I'm just going to see to it you get a decent bath. Afterward, Cle'or's going to fix you some broth."
Gallen struggled backward, pulling back the loosest and most tattered rags. "Leave me be!"
Aaprin frowned and moved slowly, trying to demonstrate his lack of ill intent, unable to judge how bad off the urchin might be. "Cle'or's sent help out for your friends. She's even been getting reports back half the night. Everything is going to be all right. I just want to help."
"Leave me be, then. I'll just bathe myself."
Aaprin shrugged, gesturing, "That pools the hot water and that one's the cold."
Gallen weakly nodded, then taking a deep breath launched fully clothed into the warm water. "Hey!" Aaprin cried in consternation as Gallen settled himself toward the far end.
Angrily and undismayed, Aaprin considered, then disrobed and leaped into the warm pool with a splash and hurried to the exhausted urchin. Gallen g
aped as Aaprin grabbed up soap and rubbed it into his filthy hair. They briefly struggled, and to Gallen's horror, Aaprin took the opportunity to tear off the rags.
Hurriedly, Gallen turned his back to the youth, blinking blearily with a sense of desperation. Aaprin sighed at the urchin's reaction, "I've clothing you can wear. You've got to admit, these are ruined."
Gallen muttered, "I can do this myself."
Aaprin, hands lathered in soap, stepped back. With a sigh, Gallen removed the remnants of his clothes. "Where's that soap?"
Aaprin passed it to him. Gallen lathered up and began to wash his arms and chest. Aaprin hesitated a moment then picked up another bar and began washing Gallen’s exposed back. Gallen's eyes widened and went very still.
For a moment it was strange, Aaprin's vision blurred. He blinked, trying to focus his gaze, afraid he might have soap in his eyes, while continuing to brush at the dirt on Gallen's back. The blurriness did not diminish even after he rubbed his face clear of soap water. So, he 'focused' himself as Staff had him practice, hoping that might help.
The feeling instantly faded, reassured, Aaprin blithely went on in his ministrations, scrubbing behind Gallen's ears and neck. The warm water seemed to finally have a relaxing effect upon Gallen, Aaprin noted, as he backed away drawing the thoroughly cleaned Gallen with him toward the shallower end. Gallen stiffened slightly, but followed him easily enough. However, once Aaprin climbed to the lip of the pool, took Gallen by the arm and helped Gallen out of pool, he stared, dumbfounded.
At Aaprin's shocked expression, Gallen knew abject terror. This could not be happening, Gallen averred. Aaprin's words proved it. "You're a girl."
She yanked him back into the pool in a mighty splash.
"Clawd."
"Hmm?" he murmured as he opened his eyes and saw Irin leaning over him, finding himself wrapped in a soft blanket, dwarven children peering at him from behind their father, Geofrei.
