Lhind the Thief (11 page)

“Our puny thief lost his puny strength?” That was Rajanas,
of course.

I managed to produce a medium-loud snort. “Just tired of the
company.”

Rajanas’s lips twitched.

“Bravely said, Lhind.” Thianra chuckled huskily at my
shoulder. “Come.” Her warm, gentle hand on my shoulder somehow made it possible
to stir once again, and I followed her into a private dining room.

Hlanan had ordered a splendid hot meal, and true to his
word, he’d quietly added some kind of spice to the steaming tea. Warmth and
wakefulness coursed through me at every sip.

No one spoke much during this meal. Afterward we trudged out
front to find four new horses awaiting us.

We didn’t ride long. Hlanan led us down the road into a very
small village built up against a cliff. He took us to a cottage, and we were
met by a smiling old woman.

By this time the effects of his herbs had worn off, and I
could hardly think for the sleep-longing. So I followed the others inside the
little house, and when pointed toward a loft I somehow made it up the ladder,
onto a straw-stuffed pallet, and dropped gratefully. I was too tired even to
arrange my take inside my clothes. I curled into a ball and slept.

And woke, eventually, to the sound of voices drifting up
from below: Rajanas’s, Thianra’s and a high, pleasant voice I did not
recognize. Looking about me, I saw an empty pallet and one with a long figure
on it. I sat up and glimpsed part of Hlanan’s face within the protective curve
of one arm. As I sat back down some of my coins clinked. It was not a loud
sound, but it was enough to cause Hlanan’s eyes to open.

“Sorry,” I said.

His sight was clear. He was one of those, like me, who come
awake completely. It made me wonder a little about his background.

“I suppose you don’t know transportation magic?” he asked.

I shook my head firmly. “Remember? I stole one spell.”

“Ah. I’d forgotten.” He rubbed his eyes, then felt his head
with care, wincing and grimacing. Then he sat up.

Below, Rajanas said, “They’re finally awake, I believe.”

“We are,” Hlanan called with unimpaired good humor.

I followed him down. Rajanas lounged by the door, his
fingers moving with absent restlessness on the hilt of his sword. His eyes were
shadowed beneath. He probably hadn’t slept.

As soon as he saw us, he spoke. “My harbor Guard caught up
with us—or five of them, anyway. You were right. They’d been ambushed as well.
They were searched and stripped of weapons and your tracer-ring.”

“Well, my other seems to have either fallen out of my pocket
or been looted while I was incapacitated,” Hlanan said with regret. “They
escaped?”

“Yes. Left Nian behind. Took a wound in the fight. Three of
them will go back for him. The rest are on their way back to Letarj to guard
the yacht. Meanwhile, we have not been followed, and the Mistress says she
senses no magical tracers on us. Shall we go?”

Hlanan rubbed his eyes again, his body tense. “Mistress?” he
turned to the old woman.

“I will help you. Do you have a Destination—”

“Don’t use it,” Rajanas said abruptly. “If there’s trouble
in my city, the Destination chamber in the palace will be ringed with waiting
guards.”

“Right.” Hlanan gave a short nod, and ran his hands down his
tunic. “Outside the gates. That’s open area. I feel better about that, being as
tired as I am.” He glanced at the window. “I hope Tir knows where we are
going.”

I was about to ask where we were going, and how, when the
old woman they’d addressed as Mistress said calmly, “Take hands. Stand in a
circle.”

Thianra’s slim fingers wrapped warmly about my hand, and on
my other side Hlanan gripped my fingers almost tight enough to crepitate. Then
he and the Mistress muttered strange words that made my ears sing in a
not-unpleasant way—

—And colored fog swirled about us, then cleared.

We stood in an open field with blossoms nodding peacefully
around us.

“Ho,” Hlanan murmured, letting me go and sinking down onto
the grass. “Did it.”

Thianra shivered, and sat down also. Rajanas’s face was pale
as old cheese, but he only turned, swayed once, then wrenched himself erect.
“I’ll spy out the situation,” he said shortly, and walked off through some
trees.

“What’s wrong? Are you sick?” I asked. “Should I find some
water?”

Thianra looked up wearily. “It’s that trans—”

“Never mind,” Hlanan said. He lifted his head and opened his
eyes to gaze at me. His expression was very hard to define: sort of bemused,
and a little sad. “We’ll be all right. I just hope Rajanas’s correct about no
one attacking his city.”

“Is that where we are?” I asked. Intense curiosity stirred
up questions like bees swarming when a stick hits their hive. “So that was real
send-magic? Hoo! That’s a handy thing . . .” I stopped.

Thianra grinned at me. “Don’t even ask him. Besides, those
who use magic to get away from thievery tend to get traced, and you wouldn’t
want any of the Magic Council on your trail.”

I shook my head hard. “No-o-o-o-o-o. Not me!” I said
quickly, though I wondered if it was possible to actually steal such a spell.
Only how would I manage, even if it was? Everything I did was by instinct. “One
spell’s enough, and besides, half the fun of a good take is the getaway. It was
only a thought.”

Hlanan looked away, his mouth strictly controlled. Thianra
laughed silently. I saw again their resemblance, and said, “How are you
related?”

Have you ever walked into a room and felt the floor drop
away? Well, I must admit I haven’t had that actually happen to me, but that’s
what it felt like. I’d asked what I thought was a harmless question, then
watched in amazement as all the laughter bleached from their faces.

Thianra’s gaze narrowed speculatively. “How did you know
that?”

I shrugged. “I . . . see it.”

“You are very observant,” she said, and in a lower voice,
“and so am I.”

“What do you mean?” I asked uneasily, poised to run, tired
as I was.

“Nothing ill.” She leaned toward me, speaking so softly that
only I could hear. “It is just that I wonder why you wish to be taken as a
child, when there is that in your face that indicates experience.” She caught
Hlanan’s gaze, straightened up, and smiled. “Ah, but your secrets are yours to
keep. As for ours . . . we share one parent. We don’t talk about
that, though.”

“Why not?” I asked, unsettled by her question. I gabbled
fast to get her thoughts, at least, away from what she’d said. I wasn’t sure
he’d heard her. “Got caught and thrown in jail? Afraid nobody will hire you to
sing if you’ve got a thief for a parent?”

Hlanan touched my arm. “It’s something like that, but we’re
not ashamed of our background. We are who we make ourselves to be, whatever our
parentage. Still, we don’t talk about it, which I suspect you can understand.
Can we ask you to keep that between us?”

“I’m mum,” I said, spreading my hands. “Does the Rat-spawn
Rotter know?”

Thianra turned away, laughing soundlessly. Hlanan said,
“Yes. Rajanas knows. But he’s really the only one. He and I have been friends
since we were small.”

“Gate’s opening for us,” Rajanas’s dry voice broke into the
conversation.

We got to our feet and followed Rajanas through the trees.
When we emerged from the copse, we faced a good-sized walled city. As we
approached it, the mighty gates began to swing open. Rajanas and Hlanan did not
seem to notice; having gone a little ahead, they were involved in a low-voiced
conversation.

Only that Rajanas would have the crust to walk, alone and on
foot, to a guarded wall to see who was in possession, I thought.

“You’re smiling,” Thianra observed from my side. “At what
prospect?”

I pointed my finger at Rajanas. “He’s crazy. I would have
waited and snuck in at night.”

“It’s his city, and his principality—Alezand,” she said. As
if that should have explained it.

Well it didn’t, not for me anyway, but I forbore questioning
when I saw some riders come galloping through the gates toward us. They led a
string of four riderless horses. Presently we were circled by a group of guards
wearing sky-blue tunics with a black device. We mounted fine-bred chargers, me
with some difficulty, for I’d never managed with a saddle and reins before.
Seeing my hesitation, a woman with looped yellow braids dismounted and tossed
me up into the saddle with one strong movement.

The leader saluted Rajanas, received a lazy wave in return,
then the guards formed in two lines behind us. I exchanged a grin with the
guard who’d helped me, then our cavalcade set off through the streets.

Busy people crowded the streets of Imbradi. Absent were the
usual signs of poverty I’d come to expect in a city. No beggars, no shabby open
markets. The shops were built close together, the buildings steep-roofed with
stone and even brick fronts. Ironwork decorated stair-rails, signs, and door
latches, and many of the buildings had ivy growing up the walls. Age-smoothed
stones paved the streets, the canals whose bridges we rode over looked and
smelled clean, and I saw no piles of refuse anywhere.

The people wore brightly colored clothing, of cloth and
design more flowing than what I’d been seeing in Thesreve. I saw none of the
short tunics so popular with rich men in Tu Jhan. Those who didn’t wear long
robes wore long tunics slit up the sides where one could see loose pants
stuffed into the tops of boots—like Rajanas’s clothes. There was more
embroidery on everyone’s clothes than I’d seen anywhere, and not the geometric
patterns I was used to seeing, but flowers, vines, leaves. I also saw every
kind of headgear, from feathered caps to veils and turbans.

This is a dream city, I thought. I wonder if they have
thieves.

Of course they have thieves. If you have people and goods
you have thieves. But I took in all those knives and swords worn at people’s
sides, and wondered how easy a thief’s life would be here, in spite of how
comfortable things looked.

As we rode slowly through the streets, people parted, some
looking on us curiously. Salutes were made to Rajanas, hands lifted, palm out.
Some bowed; Rajanas nodded to right and left.

Up ahead the streets broadened into a wide green park.
Through a gate and we were surrounded by well-tended trees and shrubs, and when
those gave way, we rode into the courtyard of a huge marble palace.

At once stable hands in sky-blue and black livery came
running out. For a moment confusion reigned as everyone dismounted and the
horses were led away. A tall, impressive servant emerged from an impressive
door and Rajanas walked back inside with him.

Hlanan appeared at my shoulder, his mouth smiling but his
eyes quirked with tension and question. “Want something to eat?”

“Does a horse have feathers?” I joked. My mood was good. It
seemed, amazingly enough, that I was going to be invited inside this toff
palace. “Always. I am always ready to eat.”

“We’ll go straight along to the kitchen, then. I’ll leave
you there, and send a messenger to retrieve you when you’re done. Thianra, I’ll
take you up to the Residence wing after we’ve left Lhind with the food.”

Thianra returned no answer. She studied Hlanan, cast a
glance my way. Her lips parted, then she gave her head a little shake, and
walked away.

That was odd. “This way,” Hlanan said, before I could frame
a question. I wasn’t even certain what to ask.

Hlanan led the way down a corridor with whitewashed walls
and clay-tile floors. Wonderful smells soon wafted their way toward us, getting
stronger at every step, and I couldn’t think of anything but the yawning
emptiness inside me, which seemed to reach right down inside my toes.
Cinnamon—bread—baking fruit. My stomach rumbled.

We rounded a corner and passed through a large archway, then
entered a huge room with five large ovens and a whole wall of open fireplace.
There must have been six or seven long preparation tables with people at every
one cutting, forming, filling, kneading. At the far end stone steps led down
into a cool-room, and people bearing trays were going up and coming down.

As we entered a tall, thin man wearing a clean white apron
came toward us. “Good day to you, Scribe,” he said.

“Good day, Master Cook,” Hlanan returned. “This is Lhind,
and his highness has asked that you give him whatever he wants to eat. I’ll
send one of the pages along to fetch him. Lhind,” this to me, “stay here and
enjoy your meal. I’ll see you again soon.”

Once again I saw question in the faint quirk of his brows,
his quick glance that lowered to his hands when I turned his way, but I knew by
now that whatever was going on inside his head wouldn’t harm me. I smacked my
hands together, rubbed them, and grinned. “Don’t hurry that messenger,” I said.

He turned away, not before I caught his expression. A wince?
Then I remembered that knot on his head. Maybe he was going to lie down. I
wished him well of his rest, as I took in the delights the kitchen offered.

The Master Cook picked up a plate. “Here you go.” His gaunt
face was no less friendly now that Hlanan was gone. “Help yourself, just don’t
break up the whole pies.”

I offered fervent thanks and made a fast circuit of the
room, grabbing one or two of every tart, pie, and dish that looked good. I got
a slice of vegetable pie, several tiny apple pastries, and a jug of cream to
pour over anything I wanted. When the plate was piled too high to add anything
more, I sat down on a low bench along one wall, and settled in for a long and
blissful meal. An assistant brewer brought me water, and two kinds of freshly
squeezed fruit juice.

I was just polishing off the vegetable pie when a cheerful
brown-faced boy in a clean sky-blue-and-black livery tunic thudded onto the
bench beside me. His eyes were the color of berries and he had teeth missing.
His brown hair stuck up in shocks.