by Cindy Dees
CHAPTER
13
Will stared, slack jawed, as the Tough Knut rounded a lazy bend in the river and, without warning, the great capital city of Dupree sprawled before him. It covered the entire valley, from hilltop to hilltop, arcing around the wide blue harbor toward which the river flowed. Buildings seemed built on top of buildings, crowding one another nearly as tightly as people packed the streets. He’d never seen a tenth so many people in one place before, not even on the largest market days in Fort Southwatch.
“What business on Urth could so many people have all in the same place?” he demanded.
“Bumpkin,” Rosana declared.
He scowled sharply at her. She might be right, but she did not have to point it out so bluntly. He pitched in to help throw the heavy mooring lines ashore and the captain clapped his shoulder in gruff thanks. Will and Roan Ironknot had struck up a friendship of sorts over the course of the voyage downriver. Will found the Kelnor’s no-nonsense view of the world to be not far from his own forest-raised way of thinking.
“Safe travels to ye, boy. Don’ forget, now. If’n ye got troubles, ye’ve but to ask me kind for aid. Tell ’em an Ironknot said you’s good people.”
Will replied, “If you ever reach the end of the Southwatch Road, ask after Ty the cobbler and tell him Will said to show you his finest blade work.” Stars willing, Will’s father would be there to fulfill the request.
“Done.” They grabbed each other’s forearms in the dwarven tradition while engaging in a mutual back thumping that Will was certain would leave bruises on him. He leaped ashore and turned to offer Rosana his hand.
“I can jump myself,” she declared.
“I’m sure you can,” he replied patiently, “but my mother would skin me for not offering to assist you.”
The belligerently independent gypsy actually reached out and took his outstretched palm. Her hand was small and soft in his and the warmth of her touch startled him. Her gaze snapped up to his, and her eyes were wide and surprised.
“Thanks be,” she murmured as she stepped daintily ashore.
He mumbled something incoherent and was saved from having to say more by Roan tossing their packs across to them. He grunted under the impact. Cursed dwarf didn’t know his own strength. Shouldering both packs, Will turned to follow Rosana down the long dock to the pier.
But at the end of the dock, a nasty surprise met them. An intensely officious-looking soldier blocked their way, announcing, “We have received word of a fugitive pair, a man and a girl who fled soldiers upriver two days past and departed by barge. Are you that pair?”
Will mostly forgot what a tiny thing Rosana was, due to the size of her personality. But she barely reached this Imperial soldier’s shoulder as she drew up straight and replied formally, “I am on official Heart business, sir, and you block my way.”
“Are you the pair who fled my men?”
Uh-oh. His men? This is some sort of senior trooper then? Will dived in to smooth the storm gathering on the soldier’s brow. “I assure you, sir. We would never flee the rightful authority of the Imperial Army. We travel under the auspices of a Heart writ, which my companion will be more than glad to produce for your perusal.” He threw a warning glance at Rosana that exhorted her to mind her tongue and her manners.
Scowling, she rummaged in her pouch and pulled out the letter from the Heart sister. The soldier took it and read it quickly.
“You’re not them. I’m looking for a human girl and an elf. This says here you bear important tidings. What is your news?” he demanded.
“Did I not already tell you it was Heart business?” she snapped.
Will grimaced. While she might technically be within her rights to tell a soldier to keep his big nose out of a Heart matter, the practical reality was that Anton’s legion trumped all other Imperial agencies in the colonies in actual power.
“Heart business is Imperial business. And Imperial business is my business, young healer.” The menace in the soldier’s voice belatedly seemed to register on Rosana.
“And who might you be, sir?” she asked a trifle more cautiously.
“I am Captain Krugar. If there is any news that affects the safety and security of Dupree, it will end up on my desk. What is it you plan to report with such urgency that the Heart will pass on to me, anyway? Have there been more orc attacks?”
“No common orcs!” Rosana exclaimed. “Boki!”
Krugar’s gaze went saber sharp. “Do you know how to tell the difference between common orcs and Boki, child? This news is urgent and must needs be accurate. Be certain of what you saw and how you speak, or you will find yourself with the wrong kind of attention from some very important people, including myself and Governor Constantine.”
Rosana wilted before the soldier’s abrupt aggression, and Will could not help himself, his father’s warnings against speaking be cursed. He dived in front of her to deflect the angry officer’s interrogation.
“She speaks the truth, my lord. I saw the Boki, myself. I recognized their red scar markings from stories I have heard of the Boki insurrection that happened when I was a babe.”
“Come with me, you two.”
Krugar took each of them by an arm and bodily dragged them off the dock. His hand was huge and hard and strong, and the scowl etched in his brow made it clear he would stand for no shenanigans from either of them. Rosana wore an outwardly unconcerned expression, but Will saw the worry lurking at the back of her dark eyes.
His father’s admonition to say nothing of the Boki attack but to Aurelius in the Dupree Mage’s Guild rang hollowly in his ears. Now what was he to do? For all he knew, this fierce soldier was taking them to the governor himself to report their news. Rosana’s Heart colors would not protect either of them if Anton Constantine was involved.
Dread settled like a boulder in Will’s chest.
* * *
Raina gave up trying not to stare like a green kid from the country as Kendrick led them swiftly through the city of Dupree toward his father’s town house. The city had paved streets. Gray stone houses crowded practically on top of one another, sharing walls, they were so close together. She’d never seen so many people! Their bustling energy swirled around her like a living thing, Who could have imagined a city would be this enormous and alive?
A tall wooden gate in an even taller stone wall opened at Kendrick’s shout and they stepped into a cobblestoned courtyard. The relative quiet in here was palpable after the jostling pedestrians without.
A servant mumbled a warning to Kendrick that his father was none too pleased by his absence and had given orders to have him report to his study immediately upon his return home. Kendrick gestured for them to come along with him. If his father was like her mother, she could understand his impulse to recruit strangers to deflect his father’s ire. Raina followed Kendrick hesitantly, though. She had no desire to get caught in the cross fire of an enraged noble and his wayward son.
Cicero stopped just inside the door, murmuring for her ears only, “I shall tarry here in case we must make a speedy exit.”
She nodded her understanding and followed Kendrick and Eben cautiously across the large, comfortable office to a huge stone fireplace. A few weeks past, she would have been completely at ease in the landsgrave’s presence. But now, she was leery of his power to send her home or worse. Landsgrave Leland Hyland waved her down into a seat. A gesture of command not to be disobeyed. She sank into the stuffed and upholstered armchair with a sigh of delight. She had not experienced such comfort since she left home.
Her host looked to be of an age with her father. He was handsome, his hair just starting to turn gray at the temples. His gaze at his son was irritated, but Leland nodded pleasantly enough to her.
The landsgrave notably left his son and Eben standing before the fireplace like errant children. “How in stars’ name did you two get mixed up with Kithmar slavers?” he demanded of the two young men without preamble. Arms crossed, he scowled back and forth between
the pair, every inch an angry noble.
Uncomfortable, she took to studying the expensive rug, thick and hand knotted with an intricate pattern reminiscent of exotic lands. Hyland’s office reminded her of her mother’s solar. This space was larger and more masculine, with painted leather maps mounted on the walls and bits of armor and weaponry lying about. But it had the same air of purpose about it.
Eben explained shamefacedly how he’d accepted an order for expensive magical components from a client. The initial purchase cost from the supplier was more gold than he had, so he’d borrowed the money to make the buy. He’d taken delivery of the components, and he and his sister were transporting the goods to Dupree for delivery when their caravan was raided and the components stolen by masked attackers. The moneylender demanded payment and, when Eben couldn’t deliver, he and his sister were seized and sold into slavery to cover the debt.
“Who was this moneylender?” Hyland asked tersely.
“Margen.”
“And the buyer?”
“Anonymous. He wished to do the deal outside the Mage’s Guild. I never saw his face and he never gave me a name.”
“Mmm-hmm. As I thought,” Hyland muttered.
“What?” Eben asked in alarm.
“You were set up.”
“By whom?” Eben exclaimed.
Hyland ignored the question and turned to Kendrick. “And you—you were a fool to attempt to fix this without consulting me first. You’ve stepped in it to your neck. Stars only know if we’ll be able to recover Marikeen after your amateurish dealings with the Kithmar.”
As Raina had feared, Kendrick’s clumsy attempt to purchase Marikeen had greatly raised her value in the minds of the slavers who held her.
“We’ve got a week to buy her before the Kithmar hand her over to Anton,” Kendrick replied defensively.
“And you believe those ruffians will honor their word?” Leland snorted in disgust. “They’ve been in bed with Anton for years. She’s probably already been handed over to him.”
“We have to rescue her!” Kendrick cried.
From what little Raina had heard of the governor, he was not the type to give up his personal toys easily.
“You will do nothing!” Leland snapped. “I will do what I can to save her.” He paced his office restlessly. “The council meets in a few hours. Perhaps I can have a word with the governor. Buy her from him before he feeds her one of his cursed love potions. But I dare not show too much interest in Marikeen or she will never see the light of day again. Better, perhaps, to ask the Heart to intervene. Yes, I’ll speak to High Matriarch Emberheart. Call in a favor…”
Kendrick and Eben exchanged worried glances.
“You two will have to leave the city. As long as you are here, Anton cannot relinquish Marikeen and save face. I cannot believe either of you were so foolish—” He broke off the nascent tirade in frustration. He seemed to realize the damage was already done and shouting about it would do no good. From what Raina had seen, Kendrick and Eben both felt deep remorse over the mess. Hyland must recognize that.
Leland ordered the youths, “Go count out enough gold to pay triple what the Kithmar quoted you for Marikeen. If I am able to buy her from Anton, she will not come cheap. When that is done, pack your gear.”
The pair left the office, subdued.
The landsgrave stared pensively into the fireplace for several seconds and then turned abruptly. “And who are you, child?”
Her recent adventures made Raina feel as if the appellation of “child” was obsolete, but her mother had long preached the value of being underestimated when dealing with a stranger. Raina replied meekly, “My friend and I bumped into your son by accident and traveled across the city with him for safety.”
She looked over her shoulder for support and saw that Cicero was being politely, but definitely, detained by a capable-looking man-at-arms. What had she been thinking to bring him into the presence of a colonial noble? She knew he had troubles with the law. Was he about to get hauled off to jail or sold into slavery, too? Kicking herself for her stupidity, she fought the panic rising in her breast.
She stood and said carefully to Hyland, “Thank you for the hospitality of your home, and please relay our thanks to your son and his friend for their kind escort.”
The man studied her in silence for long enough that she became acutely uncomfortable. But as she’d been trained to do, she waited as calmly as the undisturbed surface of a lake, her expression glass smooth and utterly still.
“Sit.”
Curses. He was not going to allow them to leave so easily. She perched on the edge of her seat.
Hyland frowned at her. “You look familiar. Have I seen you before?”
“I do not think so. I’m not from these parts.” Curse her mother for being so well known! Charlotte was called the greatest beauty in the west when she was younger, and Raina had oft been told she bore a strong resemblance to her mother.
“Where are you from?”
She shrugged. “The countryside.”
Hyland pursed his lips. “Your diction is exceptional for a peasant.”
She did not rise to the bait and said nothing in response.
Amusement glinting in his piercingly intelligent gaze, he finally leaned forward and pitched his voice low. “Who are you, really? You’re no more a peasant girl than I am.”
If she told this man she was a runaway from Tyrel, he would most certainly feel obliged to send her home. She opened her mouth. Closed it again. She had no idea how to answer him.
The landsgrave laid his hand on the small table between their two chairs. “Payment for escorting my son safely home.”
He lifted his hand away and three gold pieces lay there. She stared, surprised. In the past few days, she’d learned just how much money that truly was. A year’s worth of taxes for a peasant family. Often more than they could earn on an entire crop. The price of a good heifer, or a flock of chickens. A big flock. It also represented safe and comfortable travel for her and Cicero for weeks to come.
As tempted as she was to snatch the coins, she did not. “It was your son who escorted us, not the other way round.”
“Please. Take the money as my personal thanks for services rendered.”
She pushed the coins back across the table and said lightly, “Might I suggest that in future you not use that particular turn of phrase in the presence of a lady, lest she slip a dagger between your ribs for the insult?”
Hyland burst into laughter. When he eventually composed himself enough to speak, he chortled, “That is exactly how my lady wife would have said it. It is worth the gold to have been reminded of her … and to have been put down so soundly.”
Despite his laughter, a shadow of grief lurked in his eyes. He’d lost his wife, then. And clearly, he’d loved her well. Curiosity tickled at Raina. It was rare for people of education and wealth to fail resurrections; she would have asked why his wife had done so were it not for that lingering pain in his gaze.
“You are a mage,” he announced.
She stared, stunned. “What on Urth makes you say that?”
“My wife was a mage. She had a way of moving her hands … you do the same.”
Raina looked down at her hands, dismayed. She did have a habit of talking with them, but she gave away her magic with them, too?
Hyland continued, “You wear no guild colors. Why is that?”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Cicero stiffening. His hand crept to his sword hilt.
“Stand down!” Hyland snapped at her companion without bothering to glance over at him.
Cicero replied, “She is naïve. She knows not her worth to those who would take advantage of her.”
The two men exchanged understanding looks that Raina could not fathom. Hyland dipped his head briefly. “She is lucky to have a man of your character at her side.”
“Aye,” Cicero answered briefly, “she is.”
Hyland’s attention turned back
to her. “What about you besides your magic is so special that this free warrior chooses to lend his sword to your protection?”
Free warrior? An interesting turn of phrase. Was that Dupree-speak for a bandit? “I assure you, there is nothing special about me, my lord.”
A snort from Cicero turned her head sharply in his direction. What was wrong with him? It seemed as if his allegiance had shifted firmly to the landsgrave in the space of a few seconds.
Hyland said more sternly, “It is time for us to speak frankly, young lady. Who are you?”
“With all due respect, I owe you no allegiance.”
Warning glinted in his eyes. “Your impertinence is amusing up to a point, but do not test the limits of my good humor. Answer the question.”
She looked him dead in the eye. “Sir, this is no game to me, I assure you. I have every reason to believe my life hangs in the balance.”
“Did I wish it, you would already be dead.”
“You are not the one who threatens my life.”
“Ahh. I see.” He studied her for a long moment. “You hide from someone. We will speak more of that in a moment. First, your name. Your full name. I will have it now.”
Her stomach dropped precipitously. The colonies were not large, and the number of landed nobles few. Surely he knew Lady Charlotte or knew of her. He might even have heard of the disappearance of her daughter by now.
She closed her eyes for a pained moment. Had she walked right into her mother’s trap? Stupid, stupid, stupid. She should’ve been more careful. Had she betrayed everyone who’d risked their lives to protect her? Mag and Arv? Cicero and Moto?
“Your name,” Leland prompted gently.
She could not fail to hear the steel beneath his words. He would have her name, or he would get it out of her by force. A man of his power and wealth undoubtedly had ready access to potions that could force her to tell him anything he wanted her to.
She sighed. “My name is Raina. Raina of Tyrel. Second daughter to Lord Darren and Lady Charlotte of Tyrel.”
He nodded. “I thought I recognized Charlotte in you. You have the look of her.”
“So I have been told,” Raina replied wryly.
