Lhind the Thief (23 page)

Catching my eye, he said: “I’ll go to the ship by a
different route. Tir knows where it is. Stay with the aidlar.”

“I can get us there,” I began.

“Not over roofs. Not in this dress,” Kee warned.

“And they’ll be looking on the rooftops,” Hlanan added.
“We’ve got darkness on our side, and the aidlar. Let’s move quickly.” He paused
to inspect us. “And in case we don’t see each other until we’re on the ship,
Lhind, when you reach the docks you stay a pace or two behind Kee at all times.
Don’t speak unless spoken to. You’re sleeping in her cabin, so don’t take the
gear to the hold where the lackeys go. Kee, walk like a lady, not like a
ranger.”

“But I am a ranger,” Kee protested.

“You’re a lady right now,” Hlanan said, his lips twitching.
“Little steps, minding your gown.”

“I’ve never worn a gown.”

“They wear them in Keprima, where you are now from, and
noblemen wear robes. Little steps, and hide those hands. Nobles usually don’t
have bow calluses.”

Kee tucked her skirts up so they wouldn’t drag through the
mire of the streets and we left.

The walk was not far, and Lendan’s hired prowlers were
apparently watching the roads out of the harbor. Twice we encountered foursomes
of those warriors in gray. They studied Kee with intensity, but when they saw
her hanks of yellow hair, already tangling, they dismissed her. They paid
scarce heed to her burdened, shuffling servitor who fumbled along as if his
shoes were too tight.

More than one ship was preparing to sail on the tide, and
the docks were busy. Just as Hlanan had said, a lot of people wanted to get
away.

Following the soaring, wheeling aidlar, we made our way past
ships of every description until we came to a big, high-built caravel that had
been given a pier, so we did not have to hire a boat to take us out into the
bay. The aidlar flapped down and sat on the rail of the caravel.

Kee’s shoulders relaxed as we walked up the ramp. I was so
delighted I wanted to dance a little, but I remembered that I was a servant, so
I dropped back and adopted what I hoped was a suitable demeanor. Kee stuck her
nose in the air and announced to the waiting steward that she was Lady Kieran
of North Chur Castle in Keprima.

“Any luggage?” the steward asked, bored.

Kee sent me a wild look. I was already carrying our bags,
but clearly noble ladies had much more.

“Coming,” I said, with downcast eyes.

“My lackey is in charge of that,” Kee said grandly.

“All the way forward, starboard cabin,” the steward said.

Kee nodded, her eyes bulging slightly as she looked at me.
She obviously had no idea what they meant. I said quickly, “Shall I inspect,
your ladyship?”

“Do that,” Kee said, her voice strained; it was clear that
she was rapidly reaching the end of her invention skills.

I took over, confident I knew the way. This ship was as
different from Rajanas’s sleek yacht as one could imagine, but I figured the
basic directions on any ship are the same. I’d heard about fore, aft,
starboard, and lee while eavesdropping on Rajanas’s sailors.

I led the way down to the first deck below, where the
passenger cabins lined the sides of the ship, the best one of course aft all
along the stern. We walked forward (Kee whispering “Forward. Starboard,” to
herself) and reached the last cabin on the right before the forepeak.

The little cabin was empty, the bulkheads curving inward
over the single bunk. As soon as the door was closed Kee collapsed onto the
bunk with a sigh of relief. “I didn’t expect questions,” she muttered. “I
really hate lying.”

“Think of it as playacting.”

She gave me a considering look. “Is that what you’ve spent
your life doing?”

I grabbed my cap and pulled it off, allowing my hair to
lift. “Going about like this was a disaster,” I said. “But playacting is fun.
It doesn’t hurt anyone, and it keeps me safe.”

She rubbed her forehead tiredly. The door opened then, and
Hlanan came in, wearing a long robe with fancy folded sleeves. It made him look
taller. “Ah, good. Any problems?”

“No. We’re all here and we’re safe,” I said, clapping my
hands.

“I won’t feel safe until we sail,” Hlanan said. He sounded
even more tired than Kee.

“Where are you located?” Kee asked.

“Down below, crammed in with a lot of other poor sorts like
myself, forward of the crew berth.” He grimaced. “Stuffy and close down there,
no privacy, but the other fellows seem to be good enough sorts.”

Of course he would say that. He seemed to like everybody
unless they actively proved themselves unlikable, just as he seemed to find
everyone interesting. Thus his endless questions, as friendly as they were
nosy.

There was a trunk against the bulkhead between us and the
next cabin aft. Hlanan sat on this trunk so he would not have to stand with
head bent. I put our bundles on the floor next to his feet and sat next to Kee
on the bunk. We looked at one another wearily. Outside the single window the
sun grayed the ragged clouds, and at last the ship began rolling majestically
out of Fara Bay. Within a short time after that, Hlanan went below. I gave Kee
the bunk and curled up on the floor. We were soon asleep.

By nightfall I’d figured out my jobs. It was expected that
I’d take meals to the supposed Lady Kieran, and bring the dirty crockery back
to the galley. I was also supposed to keep the cabin neat, but Kee kept her few
belongings squared away, and I didn’t have any besides my stash, which I wore.

This time I adjusted to the movement within a day. Kee did
as well, but she found the masquerade onerous. Other toffs aboard seemed to
expect her to converse with them, make music with them, and other aristocratic
pursuits.

The musicians were more enthusiastic than expert, making it
easy for me to keep a wary, respectful distance. Music was so elusive, so
beguiling, but I hated the way it stirred up the wrong memories and emotions.

Kee tried to avoid these friendly meetings after the first
one when they asked her to take a turn. She mumbled something about tiredness,
and retreated to the cabin. She decided to fake being sick, though she hated
being kept inside the cabin, which got quite hot during the afternoon, if the
wind wasn’t on the starboard beam and blowing in the window.

It was left to Hlanan to invent suitable stories about our
background, because of course none of the toffs thought to ask a lackey, and I
seldom saw any of the other servants. He matched their accents with an ease
that impressed Kee and made me wonder even more about his real story. At least
after she’d heard him spin tales about Castle North Chur, Kee stopped worrying
about the ethics of playacting: she might still be ambivalent about me, but she
had great respect for Hlanan.

So did I, but at the same time I was aware that he was a
very deft liar.

Hlanan decided at the end of our third boring day at sea
that he should really act the tutor. Maybe this was invented for Kee’s
entertainment; at any rate, he declared it was time for me to learn to read and
write, and to count in numbers higher than sixes. He chose Allendi for reading
so that Kee could participate in the lessons.

“Also,” he said, overriding my excuses and protests, “it’s
close enough to Elras, the tongue and script of Charas al Kherval. You’ll get
that next.”

“But it’s boring,” I moaned.

“Think of it as more playacting,” Kee said with a
challenging grin.

“Or a secret code,” Hlanan added.

“You two are laughing at me,” I snarled.

“Never,” Hlanan said loftily, holding up his palm. “As I
recall another person saying once not too long ago, I wouldn’t want a cranky
sorcerer to turn me into a footstool.”

Uncomfortable with this ‘sorcerer’ talk, I gave in with a
bad grace.

And at first the lessons were just as boring as I’d feared.
Matching the little scrawls to various sounds seemed tedious beyond bearing,
but after a day or two of practice I began to recognize some of them—and I will
admit to a secret thrill when I first wrote out my name.

We spent the days on tutoring, while Kee read the books
Hlanan had found on board for anyone to peruse, and at night, Hlanan
entertained us with stories out of history. He knew a lot of history. When Kee
commented on that, he seemed pleased, saying, “Well, when you are a scribe
student, you copy out a lot of history while trying to perfect your handwriting
and speed. So I thought I might as well read the books I was copying out of.”

We continued like this for a few more days. The trip was
pleasant and even the weather behaved.

One evening Hlanan appeared in our cabin a little later than
usual, Tir riding on his shoulder. The scribe carried one of the crystal
goblets that they only used to serve the toffs. He had filled it with water.

“What’s that for?” Kee asked. “They think I’m thirsty?”

“I said you were thirsty.” Hlanan gave her a faint smile as
Tir sent me a silent greeting and flapped up to perch on an empty
candle-sconce. Hlanan went on, “My modest gear—such as it was—having been left
behind in Imbradi when I was abducted, I’m forced to try something innovative.
I’ve never been very good at this kind of communication. Not many magicians
are. But sometimes where one fails, three can succeed.”

Kee and I watched as he set up the goblet between two
candles on the little table. “What’s it you’re trying to do?”

“I’m going to try to scry Thianra the minstrel. Want to
help?”

Kee shuddered. “I tried that once, with Nill. Because we’d
been told not to. And all it did was make me so dizzy my stomach took a violent
dislike.”

Hlanan did not look at me, but I knew he was waiting. In fact,
I sensed that he hadn’t really expected anything from Kee at all.

I shrugged, trying not to stare into the water in the
crystal. The way the light played on the faceted edges of the stone,
winking . . .

I blinked. Looked at Hlanan, whose expression altered from
intensity to question.

“So what do you do?” I asked.

His brows twitched in surprise, then smoothed out into
blandness. “You look in, and think of her. Call to her in your mind.”

“That seems easy enough,” I said. “Do, uh, Hrethans do it a
lot or something?”

“I believe they do, though of course I’ve never seen them at
it.”

Something was missing, I could feel it. “All right.” I
shrugged. “I’ll give it a try.”

“I should warn you first,” he said, putting a hand over the
crystal. “If you hear anyone else—anyone at all—then stop scrying fast. The
problem with this kind of method, when it works, is that any magician who’s
practiced and who happens to be scrying might hear. It’s a little like
eavesdropping,” he added for Kee, who looked confused.

“Those rings,” I said. “The ones that got taken when we were
ambushed on the road out of Letarj. Do those work for only people who have the
other in a matched pair or something?”

Hlanan nodded. “That’s right. The magic on them wards anyone
who does not have one of the rings.”

“Can’t you do your screening magic on this thing before we
start?” I asked.

“I don’t know how,” Hlanan said. “The rings were given to us
by magicians much more powerful than I.”

You sure don’t know
much magic for a magician
, I thought. But then he’d never claimed to be a
mage, just a scribe who’d learned some magic.

I was going to ask, but the tension in his shoulders, the
tight line of his lips, made me uneasy. He was too intent on this scrying for
questions, that much I was sure of.

I shrugged again, and remembered Faryana, who had not
answered me when I’d tried to call her. Her diamonds lay among my thief tools.
I remembered the whistle, which was tucked safely into my sash inside my
shapeless servant tunic.
They won’t hear
us as long as I don’t touch them.

So I turned my attention to the candlelight flickering in
the crystal-held water. The light swirled, became a scattering of stars in the
night sky . . .

“You’re drifting,” Hlanan murmured. “Take our hands, and
think of Thianra.”

I gripped Kee’s small, callused hand, but hesitated before
taking hold of Hlanan’s fingers. He offered them in silence, and I closed my
own around his, which were slender for a male, warm, a strong, steady grip.

Concentrate
.
Obediently I called up an image of Thianra, and there she was in the crystal.
She looked tired, her eyes startled.
Who?
Her lips shaped the word, though I heard no sound. Instead I felt it inside me,
and then Kee gasped and I switched my attention to her.

“It works,” Kee exclaimed, pointing. “I saw her.”

“And we lost her,” Hlanan said dryly.

“I’m sorry. I won’t talk again.” Kee flushed with
embarrassment.

“Try once more, Lhind,” Hlanan whispered.

I closed my eyes, fighting the curl of dizziness around the
periphery of my vision. Again I concentrated on the memory-image of Thianra,
and this time when she appeared in the crystal she looked calm and ready, her
eyes focused slightly inward.

Oh, you’re looking
into a crystal, too?
I thought.

Thianra smiled.
Is it
you, Lhind?

All three of us are
here
, Hlanan’s thought joined, his fingers tightening on mine.
Kuraf’s Kee—

Kuraf is here with us
,
Thianra interrupted.
I’ll be glad to
report to her that Kee is safe.

Where are you?
Hlanan asked.

Idaron Pass
, came
the answer.
We’ve been holding it against
the mercenaries.

Ilyan is free then?

Oh, yes. He escaped
before I did. Lendan’s hirelings retreated into the city and captured a
portion, making surrender-or-else noises. Kept us busy for several days, until
Rajanas got the idea we were being diverted. So he sent Kuraf and the rest of
us up here to hold the Pass while he chases the rest of the Wolf Grays out of
Imbradi. So far it’s mostly been maneuvering, and we still hold the Pass.