Path of Honor (53 page)

“Come, gentlemen. We have given you the password. Do not be foolish. Surely Kebonsat said to trust whoever gave it to you, no matter how unlikely?”

“I did.” Kebonsat stepped through the panel. He looked at his men, and they blanched. Kebonsat turned back to Metyein. “Perhaps I was not entirely clear. We shall, I hope, have time to sort it out later. But now I think it best we leave, as we are now late and we no longer have the option of staying.”

He extended his hand toward the panel, and for the first time Metyein noticed that Kebonsat’s left arm was caught in a makeshift sling and that there was someone else in the passage. He drew a short breath. “Dazien.” He pursed his lips. “I think Aare’s going to be a very unhappy Regent. We’d better go now.”

Kebonsat ordered his household into the passage. All told, there were nine of them. Metyein fell in behind the Vertina.

“I must warn you, Dazien, the means of our leaving will not be pleasant.”

“I did not expect it,” she replied. “Nor did I expect you. Your father has ardently defended you against the charges of kidnapping my father.”

“My father is correct,” Metyein said. He thought of the message he’d left in his father’s study. A scrap of paper tossed on his desk. Just five words and no signature:
What honor and duty require.
Would he find it? Would he understand? He dropped back beside Soka.

They reached the ground floor and left the palace. The wind howled and the rain fell like ax blades, soaking them to the skin. Metyein couldn’t remember experiencing such a storm and thanked the Lady, hoping it would last long enough to mask their escape.

The guards at a sally port on the west side were friendly to a pouchful of gold and motioned the group through with little care for who they were, wanting only to return to the warmth and protection of their guardhouse.

Metyein led them down along the curtain wall parallel to the road, the path ankle-deep in mud and rainwater, dawn just beginning to glimmer through the thick pewter clouds. Eventually he led them across the road and down a narrow thoroughfare, turning at last into the courtyard of a dilapidated mansion.

He waved the small group into the stables. The wide entry doors were hanging drunkenly, and grass was springing up around the cobbles. Inside, the sound of the wind and rain seemed even louder as it rattled on the loose roof tiles.

“Nice day for a walk,” Juhrnus observed, moving out of the shadows.

“We had a delay,” Metyein said, nodding toward Dazien Emelovi.

Juhrnus’s eyes widened. “I guess you did. Soka has to be over the moon.”

“It will be a lovely surprise for Aare,” Soka said. “I should almost like to be there to see it.”

“I think you’ve seen quite enough of Aare these last weeks. Enough to make my hair fall out.”

“All of it?” Soka scanned down Metyein’s body. “The ladies will be so disappointed.”

Metyein shook his head, unable to suppress a grin. “I’m just relieved you’ll be out of Aare’s reach. Why you’ve insisted on reporting to him instead of lying low, I’ll never understand.”

“Couldn’t disappoint him now, could I?”

There was that wildness again, brittle and dangerous. And Juhrnus’s face was bleak and unrelenting.

“Someone break your favorite doll?” Soka asked.

Juhrnus made a rude gesture at Soka and strode away. Metyein followed.

“Nothing’s wrong?”

“Only if Karina doesn’t get the wagons.”

Metyein didn’t push further. Taking this step was wrenching for all of them. Abandoning friends, leaving them to the mercy of Aare, was bad enough. But after that—Treason. For the right reasons and the right cause. They hoped. But it was a difficult, dreadful decision all the same, and until now, one that they could always back away from.

They settled uneasily into the stables to wait. The first wagon rolled in less than an hour later. The driver sat hunched against the wind and rain. He wore a floppy-brimmed hat pulled low over his face and an oilskin cloak. A large red
X
was painted across the back. The high, slatted sides of the wagon rose behind him as if meant to carry hay. Water sluiced off the wagon boards, and the mules shook themselves like dogs. The driver pushed his hat up with a thick, scarred hand. He had a broad face and gray, curly hair.

“Stevaal! I didn’t expect you,” Juhrnus said, reaching up to grasp the other man’s arm in greeting.

“Orders, laddy. Given the cargo,” he replied. His gaze snagged on the Dazien, and he pursed his lips in a silent whistle. “Good thing, too. Everyone up for this?”

“They will be. Or they’ll not live long enough to learn better.”

Juhrnus turned to the assembled group, capturing each gaze in turn. “What you’re looking at is a plague wagon,” he announced. “No one stops them, no one checks them. The bodies are tossed inside and taken out of the city to be burned. There’s a false bottom box inside. Three of you will be loaded inside, and then Stevaal will make the rounds. When the wagon’s full, he’ll drive it out to the pyres, and more of our people will unload you. You’ll then make for the trees, where supplies and horses await. But here’s the promise we made. Anyone who doesn’t go, doesn’t get left behind to talk about it.”

“But—Won’t we catch the plague?” This from a loose-jowled man, his watery eyes wide.

Metyein nodded. “It’s a chance.”

“Better than staying,” Soka added. “The Regent would make you a guest of his pleasure chambers. Wouldn’t matter if you knew anything or not.” He touched his covered eye. “I’d rather have the plague and die easy.”

Metyein swallowed. If Soka called that easy . . .

“It is the only way out,” Kebonsat said. “And the walls of the palace will not protect us from the plague, even if that were the worst of our worries. Do you agree to come?”

They each nodded, faces pale.

“Good on us all, then,” Stevaal said. “Load up and on our way.”

The first to go were Kebonsat, the Vertina and Juhrnus. The Vertina’s face was pale. Metyein smiled reassuringly as he dropped the door back into place.

“Be careful, Stevaal. And give our thanks to Karina. Warn her about the Vertina. The Regent is going to screw things down.”

“I will. And no thanks needed. Just don’t forget us. Oh, and this.” Stevaal reached gloved fingers inside his cloak and pulled out a small packet wrapped in oiled canvas. “For Dannen Relvi. If you can get it to him.”

Metyein took the packet and slid it into his cloak pocket. “I’ll get it to him.”

Stevaal yanked his hat back down and flicked the whip. The mules jogged to the side, unwilling to return to the tempest outside, but Stevaal spoke sharply and pulled them around, and soon the wagon was moving down the barn rows and back out into the courtyard.

“He brought the Vertina along.” Soka came to stand next to Metyein. “And you tell
me
not to antagonize Aare.”

“I tell you not to do it when you’re standing within arm’s reach,” Metyein corrected. “But you’re right. Aare’s not going to take this well. If it wasn’t personal before, it is now. He’ll likely raze the city looking for her. I hope my father can keep a leash on him.”

“I’d rather your father put chains on him.”

Metyein shook his head. “He’d never do it. And when Aare takes the throne, my father will serve him as loyally as he served Aare’s father. And when that happens, we’d better be ready.”

“You think it will be soon.”

Metyein met Soka’s shrewd look, his heart sitting like a stone in his chest. “Maybe even before the end of the summer.”

“That doesn’t leave us much time.”

“And we don’t even know if Reisiltark is still alive. And sane.”

Reisil rubbed her eyes. Her stomach growled, and her shoulder itched just out of reach of her fingers. Sighing, she shoved back the book and slumped down in her chair.
~What time is it?

Since Baku and Yohuac’s capture, Reisil had not been allowed into Kvepi Debess’s laboratory. Instead he’d set her to studying the
rinda
. He never mentioned his two prisoners. Reisil didn’t ask about them, not wanting to give the impression she cared. She never pretended not to know them. Tapit would quickly have exposed her lie, having seen them together in Koduteel. She had instead maintained a manner of professional interest. When Kvepi Debess asked her about her relationship with the two, she shrugged.

“I spent a great deal of time with them. I hoped they could help me with the plague and the
nokulas
. But they couldn’t give me what I needed.” She smiled, her jaw tight. “You gave me that.”

“Do you think they came looking for you?”

“They probably thought I needed rescuing. Most people thought you wouldn’t welcome me.”

She didn’t know whether he believed her, but she still was not allowed into the laboratory, nor did he discuss his work with her. Unable to do anything else, she submerged herself in the study of the
rinda
. If she was going to free Baku and Yohuac, she would have to know how to read the spells.

Behind her, she heard shuffling footsteps. She swung around as Kvepi Debess wandered into her study room.

He yawned, scratching his stomach. “You’re still here, Reisil?” He smiled approval. “I’m feeling a bit hungry myself. Join me in the kitchens?”

Reisil nodded, shutting the book and following after him. “I have been meaning to ask you something,” she said as they stepped out into the brisk night air.

“Oh?”

“I wondered if it would be possible for me to observe Kvepi Uldegas in his work.”

“Uldegas? Whatever for?” There was a thin line of suspicion in his voice. Uldegas had Yohuac.

“He’s a healer-mage. And while you say that my major talents aren’t in healing, nevertheless, I know at least a bit about it. I thought if I watched him, watched his spells, I could learn something about how the
rinda
work. I’ve tried sorting out the spells on my lights and my bathtub, but it’s like looking at an already painted picture. I’ve no idea where one would start. If I understood how things connected, it would help me remember better.”

She held her breath, waiting. All night she’d practiced the speech, trying to sound logical.

Kvepi Debess turned into the main building and trundled down the stairs to the kitchens, Reisil trailing behind. Inside the kitchens, the baking crew was hard at work. A boy was dispatched to serve Reisil and Kvepi Debess, and he swiftly supplied a tray of cold meats and cheeses, bread, pickles and steaming kohv sprinkled with nussa. Kvepi Debess piled together a hearty sandwich. Reisil sipped her kohv, watching him over the rim of her cup.

“It’s a good idea,” he said finally around a mouthful of sandwich. “But you know Uldegas. He’s crotchety even when he’s in a good mood. Still, you’re a journeyman and have healing experience. I expect you’d be far more helpful than that brace of apprentices he’s always nattering on about. I’ll speak to him—but mind you, only for a week at the most. I’ll have need of you soon myself.”

Reisil nodded, hope soaring. “Does that mean I’ll get to help you with the coal-drake?”

He shot her a look from beneath his grizzled brows. “Could use you. But mind, I don’t want any foolishness!”

Female foolishness. Hysterics. Reisil smiled. “You won’t get any of that from me.” And he wouldn’t. She bit hard into her sandwich, enjoying the feeling of her jaws grinding the food. Hysterics weren’t going to help Baku and Yohuac. She was going to have to watch their suffering. She was going to have to make it worse. She was going to have to torture them herself. It was the only way to free them.

Though a part of her cringed at the thought, she refused to let herself be overpowered by guilt. This was war. Kodu Riik was at stake. What sacrifices were required, she’d make. Even if it meant sacrificing the blood of her friends.

She felt a warm sense of approval radiating from Saljane. Reisil went very still. Her mind fled back to the moment when Tapit had put the
ilgas
on Saljane. At that moment Reisil had forgotten herself. She’d been insane with grief and rage. She’d forgotten who she was. What she was. The relief at getting Saljane back hadn’t diminished the fear of losing her again. It gnawed at Reisil like a pack of starving rats. Only now she feared something more.

A shaft of ice drove down inside Reisil and for a moment she couldn’t breathe. It had never occurred to her before that she might have to do this without Saljane. But it could come to that, couldn’t it? And she could either destroy hillsides in wild grief and fury, or she could do what she was called to do. She swallowed, coughing, and reached for her kohv.

~It can’t happen again. We aren’t more important than Kodu Riik. We’re
ahalad-kaaslane,
whether we have each other or not. Baku’s the same. That’s why he can’t give up on Yohuac. We can’t just surrender to our emotions and give up. We have to keep fighting.

Easier said than done. But if it came to it . . .

~Yes. Whatever comes, we will continue on.
Despite the undercurrent of apprehension underlying Saljane’s mindvoice, she spoke proudly and defiantly.

 

Black-robed bodies sprawled across couches and floors and slumped over the arms of chairs. Some of the Kvepis had fallen asleep facedown on the table, drooling. Snores resonated through the dining hall, intermingled with moans. A few men had turned gray and clammy; others twitched and muttered.

Reisil picked her way through the bodies. She wore the clothing she’d arrived in, her sword in her right hand, Saljane on her shoulder.

There was Uldegas. He slept upright in a chair, his mouth gaping open. His breathing was high and light, and Reisil wondered how much of the henbane tincture he’d ingested. Not taking any chances, she’d put some in the wine and more in the platters of herb-roasted salmon. The feast had been in honor of the Patverseme new year, when the sun began to wane and the Dark Lord waxed in strength. Ironically, it was also Lady Day. Reisil took that as an omen. Today the Kvepis abandoned their laboratories and spells for a few hours of wine and food and merriment. Today she could drug them all in one sitting.