The False Martyr (120 page)

“
You need to get going,”
Kian said to Teth. “The others are heading out now. When you’re
done, we’ll make sure you get back here to your man. And, by then,
he’ll actually be a man again.” He seemed to think that was funny.
No one joined his nervous laugh.

“
Okay,” Teth said, but she
chewed her lip and stared at Dasen. He held her hand but could not
do anything more as Mrs. Tappers had him trapped with a tiny brush,
terrifyingly close to his eyes. “Can I say goodbye to
Dasen?”

Mrs. Tappers jumped
slightly then looked at her. “Of . . . of course, my dear. I am
sorry. Please.” She moved from Dasen, and he rose.

Teth was crushing him
almost before he was to his feet. She wrapped her arms around him
and squeezed with all her might. If not for the leather vest, she
might have strangled the very life from him.

“
Careful with the bag,”
Kian interjected. “If that bursts . . . .”

Teth eased her grip but
didn’t let him go. For a long time, she just stared at him. Dasen
did not know what to say or do. She looked sad, like she might cry.
A tear coursed down her cheek. “Goodbye, Dasen,” she whispered
finally. “Remember that I love you.” She buried her head back into
his chest, soliciting a gasp from Kian.

“
I love you too,” Dasen
managed through his surprise. “Don’t worry. The Order can’t take
you from me this easily. Once this day is done, everything can
return to normal.” He heard his words and scoffed. “Well, at least
as normal as they ever are for us.” He laughed. “At least, we can
be a man and woman again. I mean, we can be ourselves. It will all
work out just like it always does. You’ll see.”

Teth snuffled and wiped
her tears. She seemed to want to say something. She opened her
mouth then closed it again. She watched him then looked away. Her
hand came to his face.

“
Careful of the powder,”
Mrs. Tappers said.

Teth pulled her hand away
and put her head on his chest instead. She seemed to be building
herself up to something, but apparently never got there. She
stepped back, took a deep breath, and left.

Dasen watched her go,
wondering what it all had meant, but he had said it, the Order
could not separate them. After everything they had been through, it
just wasn’t possible. They were meant to be. The Order had done too
much, put them through too much, and still they were together. No
matter what happened today, Dasen was sure that constant remained.
In a few hours, they’d be together. Gorin would be behind them, and
everything would be exactly as it should be.

#

Even bouncing in the cart,
Teth could feel Dasen’s arms around her, could feel him pressed
close, his breath on her neck, hand on her stomach, legs
intertwined with hers. She gripped the bow in her hand, fingered
the fletching on the arrows at her side and thought about waking to
find his arms in the same place, his legs caught in hers, his body
warm against her. He had done exactly what he said he would. She
knew how hard it had been for him, knew how hard it had been for
herself, but he had just held her in the deep of the night when
neither of them could sleep, had just held her close and been. That
was exactly how she wanted to remember him, and exactly how she
wanted to be remembered.

She sighed, nearly
allowing the fear, the sorrow, the anticipation to rise up and
claim her. She pushed it down, felt it roiling around in her
stomach until she thought she might heave over the side of the
wagon – not that she’d been able to eat anything to throw up.
Instead, she watched the great floodplain pass – tall, thick grass
as far as the eye could see. The land was undeveloped here. Too
prone to flooding to be any use in farming, it had been left to the
river, and the grass had grown taller than a person. If not for the
raised road and height of the wagon, Teth doubted she’d be able to
see ten feet through it.

And that was the key to
Kian’s plan. They were to take the wagons from the grass, from the
sides where they could surprise the guards. The lead wagon was
disabled – axle broken according to the reports. The others had not
been able to get around it on the narrow road, so they all had
waited through the night until a new axle could be brought out.
There was more too it, but her mind had been too scattered to
follow it. Something about a bow. Something about cover. Something
about scared guards. Something about staying out of sight. She did
not know or care. She knew what the end result would be. There was
nothing more to know, so she sat on the axle in the back of the
wagon, surrounded by a dozen men, most of whom she had never seen,
none of whom seemed in the mood for conversation. She gripped her
bow and thought about Dasen, about anything other than what would
happen when they reached the caravan.

Driving the wagon were the
twins, Jax and Torin. They wore the simple brown robes of acolytes,
but Teth knew what waited under those robes. She also knew how they
had looked at her that morning, knew that part of their mission was
to make sure she never returned. She almost wished that they would
just do it and be done with it. She had accepted her fate weeks
ago, had said her final goodbye. The only thing left to do was see
it through.

“
Time to get out,” Torin
called from the bench. “They should be just around the bend in that
valley. Come at ‘em quiet from the north and wait for the signal.
You all know what to do?”

Teth looked around at the
men who accompanied he as they piled silently from the wagon. They
seemed overcome by the gravity of what they were about to do. The
patriotism and bravado Kian had summoned to recruit them seemed to
have leaked away as they rode toward their fate and realized what
their ideals had gotten them. They were hard men, but they were not
soldiers. They were dockworkers, porters, rivermen who Kian had
recruited to his cause. A few of them had bows, but Teth doubted
they could hit much with them. The others had dock hooks, pole
blades, and fishing spears. Long knives were tucked into their
belts. Around the bend would be real soldiers – twenty by Kian’s
estimate – with real weapons: spears, swords, axes, and crossbows.
The wagons they guarded held weapons, armor, supplies that the city
would need, but first these men had to capture it despite being
outnumbered, out-armed, and out-trained.

Teth adjusted the quiver
on her back, twenty-five arrows, felt the knife in her belt, took a
deep breath, and ran into the grass. She nearly fell. The heavy
grass – if you could even call it that – barely moved as she pushed
through it. Thumb-width stalks held it so that it rose straight and
tall to a height above her head. It caught her feet, held her arms,
and resisted her body’s attempt to push through it. Recovering from
her initial miscalculation, she caught herself and changed tacks.
She wove through the stalks, sliding around them as if traversing
an especially thick grove of higg trees back home. The others
followed, silently cursing, stumbling, and occasionally falling.
Teth could only hope they made that much noise when they found the
wagons. It would make the fight all that much shorter, all that
much more certain.

It took them twenty
minutes to push their way down the shallow hill to the valley
below. They did not rush, especially at the end, so as to maintain
the surprise that was their only possible hope. As they entered the
valley, the ground became muddy such that it clung to their boots
and slowed them further. Teth now saw how the wagons had become
trapped. To divert from the road was to be lost in quagmire. Many
of the men, whispered that it was the Order working for them, that
it was ordained that they succeed. Teth had no doubt that it was
the work of the Order but had a very different view of its
motives.

By the time they could see
the first of the wagons peeking above the top of the grass, Teth’s
heart was beating as if it might break through her chest. She could
barely breathe. She was terrified, heart broken, and elated all at
once. It was time.

She crept forward until
she was nearly to the side of the road, moving so slowly and
carefully that the grass barely stirred around her. She cursed. She
was too far forward, had lost track of herself in the grass, and
was ten paces in front of the first wagon. It would have to be good
enough. From her perch, she could see ten of the guards through the
grass. They stood in a clump, helmets and armor off in the heat,
leather shirts open, white chests waiting for her arrows. On top of
the first three wagons were more guards, likewise stripped of their
armor and helms. In their arms were crossbows as big as their
chests. Their attention was on the road and the approaching wagon.
They did not even glance toward the grass. Teth found an arrow and
brought it to her bow, those would be the first to fall.

Up the road, Torin was
driving the wagon slowly into place. Teth took a breath and waited.
Knowing what to listen for, she heard the other men moving into
position. They had tracked better than her, were all well down the
valley from her, along the side of the caravan.

“
Ho,” a soldier on top of
the first wagon called. “State your business.”

“
Sir,” Torin called back.
“The governor’s sent us with an axle for one of your wagons. We’re
from the temple, but every other wagon and man in town is
busy.”

“
The Order bless you, it’s
about time. Lieutenant, a wagon’s come with the new
axle.”

“
About damn time, get them
. . .”

A scream from the grass to
the side cut off the lieutenant. An arrow flew, hitting the side of
a wagon. Another wobbled through the air and hit a guard in the
arm. He began to scream and flail. The others looked at him in
shock then turned to the grass.

“
Attack! Attack! Defend
the wagons!” the lieutenant ordered, voice rising to a scream that
almost matched the injured man at his side.

Disaster followed. Teth
watched, stunned, as Jax and Torin ripped aside their robes and
pulled out the short swords beneath. The plan was for the attack to
start after they were among the guards, so that they could use the
confusion to hit the unprepared guards from behind. Instead, they
had to charge from their wagon. Crossbow bolts found them before
they made it two paces. Torin fell back with a bolt in his chest
another in his stomach. His brother was hit in the thigh. As he
fell, a fourth struck his head. To the sides, arrows flew, dropping
a handful of guards as others fought to pull their weapons. The
remaining crossbowmen fired into the grass. Battle cries, curses,
and screams rose in a cacophony from both sides.

Teth pulled her bow and
sited on the closest man. Cranking with all his might to draw the
string back on his crossbow, his face was fear, eyes to the side,
body angled away from the attack, exposed to her. He was a young
man with a sparse growth of beard. He wore a joining pendant, a
bird superimposed on a flower. Undoubtedly, he had carved it, had
given its match to his love, had joined her, had children with her.
And now Teth was about to kill him? Why? If she was going to die,
why did he need to die as well?
Defy the
Order,
she reminded herself.
Act against your nature. Do what the Weaver would
never anticipate.

She lowered her bow and
walked to the road. She held her hands out to the side as the man
and his fellow gawked. They loaded bolts onto their crossbows and
brought them up to fire. Behind them, arrows flew from the grass
and back into it. But the fight was concentrated several wagons
back. The soldiers there were scrambling to get behind the wagons,
to get some cover and force their opponents to show themselves. The
attacker’s cause was hopeless. They were outnumbered, unskilled,
and had lost their only advantage. And Teth would not be there to
help them. These two men would see to that.

She spread her arms and
watched the men as she approached, silently cursing the Weaver and
all his plans. “Fuck you,” she breathed. “I am not your tool. I
will not play your games. I’m done. You lose.”

Her eyes closed and she
waited to feel the bolt cut through her, to feel the pain that
would end it all, that would deliver her to nothingness.

Death didn’t come. She
opened her eyes. The men just stared at her. They held their bows
up, fingers on the triggers, bolts aimed at her heart, but they did
not fire.

“
Do it!” she screamed.
“Kill me! The Maelstrom take you, do it!” She felt the tears run
hot down her cheeks as she screamed, felt her emotions rising. She
threw her arms out, inviting them to end her. Still, they did not
act.

The bow came back in front
of her. She pulled an arrow from her quiver and raised. “Just do
it! I will kill you if you don’t!”

The men looked at each
other. Behind them, a half-a-dozen of their fellows were down and
screaming. Attackers were charging from the grass and falling just
as fast. They were under attack. Their friends were dying, but for
some reason, these men would not fire.

Teth drew the arrow back,
aimed at the man on her right, the one with the pendant, and
screamed, “Kill me!”

His fellow was the one to
comply. Teth saw his finger twitch. She took a breath, expecting it
to be her last. The bolt released. She saw it tremble, saw the dust
rise from the fletching, saw the air shimmer around it. “Goodbye,
Dasen,” she whispered as she watched the bolt come. She could feel
it piercing her, crashing through her chest, tearing open her
heart, throwing her to the ground, and ending it all.