Hope and Red (7 page)

“You'll never know for certain, but nobody's ever going to be able to prove otherwise, so you might as well just say it does.”

A smile slowly spread across Red's face. His ruby eyes twinkled. “Hey, yeah.”

“It doesn't bring your parents back. But at least it means their deaths were not for nothing.”

Red stared up into the night sky. “The greatest thief New Laven has ever seen,” he said quietly, for the first of many times.

That first successful raid on a merchant ship made Sadie hungry for another. They prowled the northern coast, looking for more than the bits of jewelry and coin they had been taking from lacy yachts. But perhaps that captain's threats hadn't been idle, because within a few weeks' time, the coastal waters were teeming with imperial ships from Stonepeak.

“Not a good time for us to be out,” Finn said as he and Sadie shared a bottle in her cabin. “We should lay low until those imps get tired of circling New Laven like a pack of goblin sharks.”

“Nah, we just need a new mark,” said Sadie.

“Like what?”

Sadie took a pull on the bottle. “Them little villages we see all along the northeast coast. They've got to have something worth plundering.”

“Food and lamp oil is about all.”

“We need those things, don't we?”

“I suppose.” Missing Finn thought of what Red had said. There was right stealing and there was wrong stealing. “But Sadie, those folks are no better off than us. Some of them probably worse.”

“Oh, don't go all soft on me. I get enough of that from the boy. I promise not to kill anybody unless they force my hand. Does that appease your delicate conscience?”

The next day, the
Savage Wind
began its reign of terror on the villages along the northeast coast of New Laven. They were tiny places, usually only one dirt road. The people wore plain wool smocks. Many didn't even have shoes. And they were completely unprepared for the small whirlwind of violence that descended on them. When Sadie came at them with her cutlass, most simply ran.

“Easier than getting a slap from my father,” said Sadie as she watched a man nearly twice her size take off down the road.

Sadie left Red to mind the ship at the dock, and the rest of the crew fanned out to look for anything worth taking. Avery Birdhouse located the large storage shed near the docks. Sadie had Bull Mackey and Wergishaw break the lock on the door. Inside, they discovered not only food and lamp oil, but several large barrels of ale.

“I'd say this was worth the taking.” Sadie turned to Missing Finn. “Sometimes it's not about the money, but about a finer quality of living.”

They continued to ravage the coast for a few more weeks, going from village to village. Then one day they landed at a village with a sign that proudly proclaimed,
MOONFLOWER
LANDING, POPULATION 50
. Except when she and her crew entered, not one of the fifty could be found.

“I don't like this one bit,” said Missing Finn, his one eye narrowed suspiciously.

“Maybe they already ran away?” said Avery Birdhouse.

“How would they know to run unless someone tipped them?” asked Finn.

“Who would do that?” asked Spinner.

“One of the other villages maybe. Who's to say they don't all know each other. Not that much distance between them.”

“Let's find where they keep the loot and be off before this goes leeward, then,” said Sadie.

There were several small storage sheds. Every one of them lay open and empty except one all the way on the other side of the village. Bull Mackey broke the lock easily, since it was old and corroded with rust. But there was nothing inside.

“Why lock an empty shed?” said Finn.

Sadie grunted and turned back in the direction of the ship. The mast of the
Savage Wind
was visible above the village rooftops, and she could see an oily black smoke twining around it.

“The ship!” said Missing Finn.

“Red!” Sadie charged back toward the ship, her tall captain's boots churning up the dirt, her cutlass held high like she could use it to frighten off the fire as easily as she'd frightened the villagers. But by the time she reached the dock, the sails were ashes, the charred mast had collapsed, and water was fighting with the fire to consume the remainder of the ship. The saboteurs, most likely villagers, had already slipped away.

“Oh, God, Red!” Sadie threw aside her hat and cutlass, jerked off her boots, and threw aside her coat. She was just about to dive into the wreckage when she heard a boyish voice at the far end of the dock.

“Right here, Sadie!” Red popped up from inside an empty barrel.

“Piss'ell, boy! You had me worried!” She stalked over to him, her fists clenched.

He gave her a surprised look. “You didn't think I had enough sense to get off a burning boat?”

She jerked to a halt and thought about that. “I guess I didn't. Sorry, you got that much sense.”

Red gave her a sly smile. “Would you say I have enough sense to grab a bit of money on my way out?” He held up a small sack and shook it so that it jingled softly.

“You really are my best wag!” Sadie pulled him out of the barrel and into a crushing embrace.

The rest of the crew had reached the dock by then. They stared morosely as the last bit of burnt lumber sank.

“Well, that's everything,” said Missing Finn.

“Not everything,” said Sadie, her arms still around Red. “We still got our health, our wags, and enough money to get us home.”

“Home?” asked Red.

“That's right. Back to Paradise Circle for you and me.” Then in a singsong voice she said:

Backus was having a quiet drink at the Drowned Rat when he looked up and saw a shape darken the doorway.

“Not again…,” he whimpered.

Sadie the Goat stood there, much as she had a few months ago, with that same red-eyed kid in tow. At first Backus thought his eyes were fooling him. After all, she'd been shamed in front of everyone in this very tavern. And yet, there she was, looking tired and dirty, but still a far sight better than the last time he'd seen her. The entire tavern went quiet as she walked calmly into the tavern, pat as you please.

“Hiya, Backus,” she said as she passed him. Then she winked.

She was halfway to the bar before Bracers Madge appeared. Backus was never sure how such a big woman could appear so suddenly, but there she was, looming over Sadie, her thumbs in her suspenders.

The boy looked terrified and shrank back, but Sadie just nodded. “Hi, Madge.”

“What you doing here, Sadie?”

“I come to beg your forgiveness,” Sadie said loud and clear so the whole place could hear her.

“My
what
?” asked Madge, looking confused.

Sadie dropped down on one knee. “You've always been good to me, Madge. Fair and true and a damn sight kinder than most. When I came in here, hells-bent on revenge, I spit on everything good you done me. It was wrong as things can be and I'm forever sorry I did it. All I want to know is, will you forgive me?”

Bracers Madge stood over Sadie, her arms crossed, her face expressionless. There was not a whisper in the tavern as everyone waited to see what she would say. But she didn't say anything. After a moment, she turned and walked behind the bar. She picked up the little pickling jar that contained Sadie's ear. Then she came back around to the front of the bar and solemnly handed the jar to Sadie.

Sadie stared down at the jar in her hand, her expression full of wonder. Never had Bracers Madge given one of her prize ears back to its owner. It was a thing unheard of in Paradise Circle.

Madge nodded to her, then walked back behind the bar and poured herself a whiskey.

Sadie slowly stood, the jar clutched in her fist. “Well, now. This calls for some celebrating. And I think I have just enough money from my pirating adventure to buy a round for the house.”

The tavern erupted in hoots and cheers, fists pounding on the table.

Sadie looked over at Backus. “See you around, old pot.” Then she gave an evil chuckle.

That was to be Backus's last relaxing drink in the Drowned Rat for many years.

Sadie basked in appreciation and ale that night.

“Time you started drinking.” She slid a foamy tankard to Red as she sat down at their table.

Red's eyes went wide as he looked down at it.

“Go on, take a sip.”

He took a gulp, and shuddered. “I thought it would taste
good
.”

She laughed. “It tastes as it tastes. I've had better and I've had worse. Now, my best wag, what are your plans?”

“Plans?” he asked as he sniffed at his tankard, wondering if he could take another sip without throwing up, afraid that Sadie would make him anyway.

“We're back in the Circle and everything true as trouble again. We're older and wiser and a bit more keen. So what do you plan to do?”

“I thought…” Red's pulse sped up in alarm. “I thought I was still with you.”

“Oh God, you can't be hanging from my teat all the time. I'm still here and you're still my best wag. But I'm not your captain anymore, and it's time you started to make your own decisions.”

“I don't really know what to do.”

“Well, what do you want to be?”

“The greatest thief New Laven has ever seen,” he said immediately.

Sadie had been in the midst of drinking from her tankard. When she heard that, ale sprayed from her nose and she laughed so hard, she nearly fell out of her chair.

Red clutched his own tankard, looking embarrassed. He took a tiny sip. “It's stupid, I guess.”

“Stupid?” said Sadie. “It's the sunniest thing I ever heard. And I don't doubt that if you apply yourself, someday it will be said.”

7

D
o you know how I fall asleep so easily each night?” asked Grandteacher Hurlo.

He sat cross-legged before the candle-lit black stone altar. These last few years, age had prevented him from kneeling. But there was a peaceful smile on his old face, and a gentle look in his filmy eyes.

“No, teacher, I don't.” Bleak Hope found it difficult to concentrate on what he was saying because she had been sitting in a suspended middle split for the last hour. Her heels balanced on the tops of narrow poles on either side, which kept her raised above a glowing pile of hot coals. But she knew these were the moments when her teacher chose to impart his most important knowledge. He said when the body was strained, the mind was relaxed. So she pressed her palms together, breathed through the ache in her legs and lower back, and focused on the sound of his soft, dusty voice.

“What I do,” said the grandteacher, “is lay down on my mat, close my eyes, and ask myself if I have done something truly worthwhile in my life. I think about everything I have done, and when I come to one deed in particular, I say to myself, ‘Yes, I have done something.' And then I sleep soundly.”

“The sleep of the righteous, Grandteacher?”

“I suppose. Do you know what deed it was that comforts me?”

Over her years of training, the grandteacher had shared with Hope many of his youthful exploits. As she continued to balance between the two poles, she considered the most impressive ones. “Was it the time you saved the emperor from being assassinated by the Jackal Lords?”

“That was a memorable day,” agreed the grandteacher. “But no, that is not the deed that I consider most worthwhile.”

Hope frowned, her blue eyes lost in thought. “Was it…when you rescued Archlady Maldious from the horde of giant mole rats?”

“Another momentous event. But that is not what sends me peacefully off to sleep each night.”

“It wasn't when you slew the pirate Dire Bane in the Painted Caves, was it?”

He shook his head. “You are following the wrong path of reasoning. While all of those deeds were important and even courageous, none of them mattered in a way that gives much comfort in my old age.”

“Then…I am sorry, teacher.” She bowed her head. “I don't know.”

His smile was still gentle and warm, his eyes closed as he said, “In truth, I doubted you would. That was why I asked you the question. No, my child. The thing that gives me tranquility every night is thinking of the day I offered to train you.”

“
Me
, teacher? But—”

“Despite the risks, I knew I must. And it is that courageous decision which gives me peace. That, and knowing someday this night would come, and when it did, we would be ready.”

“Ready for what, teacher?” asked Hope, her pale face frowning. “Is tonight special?”

“The night itself is like any other. It is the events of tonight which will be special.”

“What will happen tonight?”

The grandteacher opened his eyes, and his smile faded. “Come before me, Bleak Hope.”

“Yes, teacher.” She flexed her legs and pushed herself up so that she flipped over the hot coals and landed on one knee directly in front of the grandteacher.

“Sit with me,” he said.

She nodded and folded her legs in front of her.

“Close your eyes,” he said. “And tell me, what do you hear?”

“The crackle of burning coals, teacher.”

“Beyond that?”

She concentrated for a moment. “I hear the wind blowing strong from the north against the windows near the ceiling of this temple.”

“Good. And beyond that?”

“I hear…” It took her a moment, but as she listened, the sounds grew stronger. Voices. Angry voices outside in the courtyard. Boots stomping on flagstone. Swords sliding from scabbards. Her eyes snapped open. “Teacher! They are coming for us! They mean to harm us!”

“Yes.”

“But your own brothers!”

“Perhaps if I had sent you away a few years ago, we could have avoided it. But I did not have the heart to cut you off from your training just when you were beginning to show your true potential.”

“They
know
, teacher?”

“Yes.”

Hope pressed her face on the cold, hard stone. “I have failed you, teacher. It was my responsibility to keep my training hidden from them.”

“No, child. It was not failure that showed our hand, but success. I have trained you every night these past eight years in the way of the Vinchen order, knowing that a day would come when your skills would grow so exceptional that even your most casual movements would betray us. You no longer walk through this world like a servant, but like a warrior. And there is no shame in that. However, we have broken one of the oldest laws of our order. There must be consequences.”

The sound of angry voices out in the courtyard grew steadily louder.

Hope snapped up into a crouch. “I will face them, teacher. I am not afraid.”

The truth was, she hungered for it. Eight years she had washed their clothes, cooked their food, oiled their armor, polished their weapons, and done a hundred other stupid, meaningless tasks. Some had treated her courteously. But most had treated her no better than a workhorse, and a few had gone out of their way to be cruel. Those, the world would not miss. If she was to die this night, she would take them with her.

“Not so fast, my most beloved pupil,” Hurlo said. “First you must do something for me.”

“Anything, Grandteacher.”

He reached behind the altar and picked up a sheathed sword.

“Do you know this blade?”

“Of course, teacher. It is the Song of Sorrows, one of the finest blades in the world.”

Fists pounded on the temple door. Voices shouted, demanding that “the girl” be released to them.

“Swear on the Song of Sorrows that you will not confront our brothers tonight or seek vengeance on them in the future. Instead, you must flee this place and go seek your path in the world. There is a small boat waiting for you at the dock with enough supplies to get you to the nearest port.”

“But teacher, I—”

“Swear it!”

Hope reluctantly laid her hand on top of the grandteacher's. She looked into his tired gray eyes and said, “I swear it.”

His serene smile returned. “Good. Now, so that you don't forget, take this sword with you.”

“I can't take the Song of Sorrows!”

The pounding changed to a slow methodical slam. They were using something to batter down the door.

“This is my final command to you as your teacher,” Hurlo said. “Do you understand?”

She bowed her head. “Yes, Grandteacher.”

He let go of the sword, and it stayed in her hand.

“I have done all I can for you,” he said. “This knowledge gives me peace.”

The sharp crack of wood echoed through the temple as the door gave way.

“Blasphemer!” came a shout from the open doorway as men in the black leather armor of the Vinchen warrior charged into the temple.

“Now, go!” said Hurlo.

His words brought forth a memory of Hope's father, his face etched in pain as he told her to go, to run. And she didn't want to. Couldn't leave him. It was happening all over again. The shouts of warriors mingled in her head with the sounds of men and women dying all around her as the worms of the biomancer burst from them…

“Hope!” Grandteacher Hurlo's voice cracked like a whip, shaking her out of her memories. “You must go now!”

“Teacher, not again.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Please, don't make me be the one to survive again.”

He placed his withered hand on her cheek and smiled sadly. “I am sorry, my child. You must endure.”

Bleak Hope blinked back the tears and nodded. She tucked the Song of Sorrows under her arm just as the men began to surround them. She jumped first to one wall, then across to the other, working her way up until she reached the windows near the ceiling of the temple. She broke the glass with the pommel of the sword, and swung out and up onto the roof.

“Follow her!” shouted one of the men.

He leapt after her, but the grandteacher sprang up, grabbed his ankle, and yanked him back down.

“Hurlo! You have disgraced yourself, your title as grandteacher, and this order,” said Racklock, his massive shoulders heaving with exaltation. “You
should
be given a fair trial before your peers. But if you do not step aside, I will cut you down where you stand.” He pointed his sword forward, and the other monks followed suit until Hurlo was surrounded by a ring of sharp steel.

The old grandteacher stood there, alone, no sword in his hand, with nothing but a smile on his lips.

“You are welcome to try.”

Hope ran along the rooftop, crouched low, her black robes flapping in the cold night air. She heard the shouts of pain and the clash of steel on rock and stopped. She could take down at least three, maybe four, before they overwhelmed her. But the sword weighed heavy in her grasp, and therefore so did her promise. If she returned, the look of disappointment on her teacher's face would wound her far worse than any blade. She kept moving.

When she reached the edge of the temple roof, she jumped, letting the momentum carry her to a nearby treetop. She dropped from branch to branch with her slippered feet and free hand until she landed softly on the ground. She scanned the courtyard and saw no one, so she left the cover of the trees and sprinted across the open space toward the front gate. She had almost reached it when she heard the
hiss
of a sword leaving its sheath. She dodged to the side, at the same time bringing up her own still-sheathed sword. The
thock
of blade on wooden scabbard echoed in the empty courtyard. Hope continued from her dodge into a roll, twisting as she did into a protective crouch, and brought her sheathed sword up to guard herself.

Crunta stood before her, his sword raised, blocking her way to the gate. No doubt he had lagged behind the others, suspecting the grandteacher's loyalty to Hope went deep enough that he would help her escape. Of all the brothers, he had been one of the most cruel. Because she was a girl? Because she was a servant? It didn't really matter.

But she had sworn to Grandteacher Hurlo that she would not confront her brothers.

“Let me pass, Crunta.”

“Do not think because you have been playing at battle in the midnight hours with a foolish old man that you are a match for me. Throw down your toy sword and return to the temple for judgment, or I will leave your pretty guts strewn across the flagstones.”

“Toy sword?” Hope slowly straightened from her crouch. “I know it is dark and the moonlight is faint, but do you truly not recognize this blade?” She held it out horizontally, one hand on the sheath, one on the handle.

Crunta's eyes widened. “No…how could he…” He shook his head. “This only makes your crimes more terrible. Surrender or die.”

Hope nodded. “If that is your choice.” She had obeyed her teacher and sought not to confront this brother. But now he was preventing her from fulfilling the second part of her oath. So he must be removed.

She pulled the Song of Sorrows from its sheath, and the blade sang as it moved through the air. Crunta lifted his own sword to parry, but not quickly enough. It was a short song, and by the time it ended, it was his guts that lay strewn on the flagstones.

Hope stood for a moment, sword extended past her body as she watched Crunta drop heavily to his knees and try to stuff his intestines back into his body for a moment before finally toppling over. Her blade gleamed red in the moonlight. This was the first blood she had ever spilled. She had expected to feel something. Satisfaction. Regret. But all she felt was the same old darkness. Except now it did not frighten her. It strengthened her.

Grandteacher Hurlo had taught Bleak Hope many things. Unfortunately, long-distance sea navigation had mostly been theoretical training, with very little practical application. She had never sailed more than a few miles from Galemoor. She had studied maps, of course. She knew the general layout of the surrounding islands, and theoretically, she knew the course she would need to keep in order to reach the closest port before the supplies on her little boat ran out. But after two days at sea with no land in sight and less than a day's rations remaining, she had to admit that she was lost.

She scanned the empty horizon, sunlight sparkling so hard on the surface of the water that she had to squint. A cold wind whipped through her long blond hair, giving some relief from the heat that was turning her pale skin into an angry red.

She should be less than a half day from port, but the whole world seemed empty—of land, of humanity, of anything. The only indication of life was an odd cluster of bubbles that rose to the surface now and then.