“Right,” Aaron said, “so keep her away from any torches.”
“Aaron, I’m serious. This can work—it has to. With Avarest and Isabelle’s kingdom Isalla behind us, we’ll stand a real chance.”
Sure, Aaron thought, just so long as Belgarin can’t add and see that he still has twice our numbers, at least. But he nodded, “If you think this is the best way forward, then I’ll go there with you, princess. You’ve no cause for worry on that front. ”
Leomin nodded, “And I as well.”
“Eh?” Aaron asked, unable to hide his grimace, “I’d thought you’d want to get back to the Clandestine.”
The Parnen captain shrugged, smiling, “And I do, Mr. Envelar. Every man has a place in this world, and this world has a place for every man. Mine, as you’ve surmised, is aboard the Clandestine, with Balen prattling in my ear and the sea rushing past us, the gulls cawing in the distance.” He smiled wider, “Ah, but it is good even to think of it.”
“Then why come?” Aaron asked, seeing a shred of hope.
“Because, Mr. Envelar,” the captain said, his expression growing serious, “I have seen some of those things of which Belgarin is capable. Forgive me, princess,” he said, nodding to Adina, “but such a man deserves no seat of power unless it lies beneath the headman’s axe. Besides,” he said, his smile returning, “I suspect you’ll have need of me, before this is all done.”
Aaron tried to think of a way that that could possibly be true, considered telling the Parnen that he needed him about as much as he needed a knife in the kidney. Less, really. A man could live with one kidney. Instead, he let it go. He was too elated by Darrell’s rescue and too anxious of the trip ahead to think on it over much. “How far is it, would you say,” he asked, turning to Adina, “to make it to Isalla? I’ve never been.”
“Well, aboard ship—” Leomin began.
“We don’t have a ship.”
“Ah. Right.”
“With horses?” Adina asked, “three weeks, maybe four.”
A long way then, but it wasn’t the journey itself, so much, that caused the headache to begin to form in Aaron’s temple. It was the thought of being in close proximity to the Parnen captain for that long. Belgarin’s executioner was beginning to look better and better.
Leomin smiled, oblivious of Aaron’s thoughts, “Ah, but it is good to travel with friends. I, myself, am excited about the prospect of a journey with two such wonderful companions as yourselves. Now, might I suggest we all get a few hours of rest—after all, the road will be long and, I find, that anytime you set your feet on a path, there is no true telling where it might lead.”
Most likely to a headman’s axe, Aaron thought, but at least we’ll be moving.
My bright and cheerful Aaron, Co said, the sarcasm practically oozing from her words, always so ready to put a bold face on things.
“Surely,” Adina said, “it’d be better to leave now.”
Leomin’s mouth twisted into a pout, “But surely an hour—”
“Now,” Aaron said, “your women will find someone else to keep them company, I do not doubt. The gods only know how you managed to find three of them willing to listen to your prattle—I would have suspected they were all deaf, if I hadn’t seen it for myself. Anyway, you can console yourself with the fact that there will be more women where we’re going.”
“Four,” Leomin mumbled, then he nodded slowly, his expression brightening, “Still, the women of the west … I have heard some men say that they are the most beautiful women in the world.”
“Have you?” Aaron asked.
“Well, of course,” the Parnen said, grinning, “I said it, just now. “
Aaron growled, “Come on.” He and Adina headed for the door, the Parnen following after. Aaron hesitated and turned back to Leomin, “You’ll want to put some clothes on first.”
The Parnen captain looked down in surprise, as if only now noticing his nakedness, and Adina stared at the door, her body rigid. “Ah. Right,” Leomin said, “I’ll only be a moment.”
***
Once Leomin was dressed, Aaron and the others made their way down to the common room of the tavern. Nathan, the barkeep, was standing at the counter, watching as they approached. “Leaving us so soon, are you?” He said, glancing at Leomin, “I wondered at seeing three very disappointed women walking down here not too long ago.”
“Four,” the Parnen mumbled again, glancing at Aaron before turning back to the bartender, “Yes, friend Nathan. It is unfortunately the way of the world that satisfaction so often remains within one’s grasp, yet too slippery to the touch to be held for long. My friends and I must depart.”
Nathan nodded and there was no missing the disappointment in his own gaze. “Well, if you really must leave, I understand. Still, it would have been a fine thing to have heard another story, before you left.”
“Ah, but my friend,” Leomin said, smiling, “where my friends and I go now, we will find many stories and many tales for the telling, not tall ones, though, only the … short, honest kind. I will, one day, return here to share them with you.”
The man nodded and started to speak but the youth, Janum, rushed up before he could, giving Leomin a hug. “Are you sure you have to leave?”
Aaron and Adina shared an incredulous look, but Leomin didn’t seem surprised by the boy’s enthusiasm. “Alas, I must, young Janum,” he said, patting the boy’s head, “But I will always think of my time here fondly. I will return, if I’m able, of that I can assure you. You’ll be good while I’m gone won’t you? You’ll stay out of trouble?”
Janum nodded, obviously disappointed. “Yes sir, I will. I promise.”
The barkeep nodded and put an arm around his nephew’s shoulders, “Oh, we’ll be fine, don’t worry on us any,” he said, and Aaron stared at the man in shock. Were those tears in his eyes?
Leomin smiled, bowing his head, “As you say.”
The barkeep and his nephew shared grins before seeming to notice Aaron and Adina for the first time. Nathan winked at Adina, “You keep him in line, won’t you, mistress?” He said, glancing meaningfully at Aaron.
Adina’s eyes went back and forth between the smiling Leomin and the two teary-eyed men, a youth that had been ready to commit murder, and a retired street thug. “Oh,” she said finally, “you can be sure of that.”
The big man nodded, apparently satisfied, and Janum took an obviously reluctant step toward Aaron, offering his hand. “Thanks for not killing me.”
Aaron raised an eyebrow, taking the boy’s hand and giving it a firm shake, “You’re welcome. I won’t tell you not to carry a blade, Janum, but I will tell you not to go looking for trouble. It’ll find you, sooner or later—it always does. No sense in courting it. Just make sure that when it does, you’ve some real steel handy, will you? Not some fisherman’s shiv.”
“Y-yes sir,” the boy said, wide eyed.
Nathan cleared his throat, patting the boy on the soldier, “Well, I guess you’d all best be on your way.”
Aaron breathed a sigh of relief when they were finally outside the inn and on the move. A sense of urgency had been building in him since they’d found Leomin. A sense that time was running out, was already out, maybe. As far as he was concerned, they couldn’t be quit of the city soon enough.
CHAPTER
TWELVE
They stopped first at a tailor’s shop, buying new clothes to replace the blood-covered ones Aaron and Adina wore as well as finding a hooded cloak for Leomin. The shop owner, a thin man with bad teeth, charged more than twice what the clothes were worth as far as Aaron was concerned, but they didn’t have time negotiate, so he paid the man what he asked, whispering a silent thanks to May for the gold she’d given him.
As they made their way through the streets of the city—getting crowded now as the morning drew on and people went about their daily lives—Aaron glanced at Leomin. “Just what in Salen’s Fields was all that about, back at the inn? You knew those peopl
e for a day. They gave you a place to hide, and you’d think that you were some king come to grace them with your presence.”
“Yes,” Adina said, staring at Leomin, “that was strange.”
Leomin merely shrugged, “People are simple enough creatures, I think, and the heart knows what the heart knows.”
Aaron grunted, “Meaning, you don’t want to talk about it.”
Leomin grinned displaying his almost too-white teeth, “Ah, Mr. Envelar, I have been told, from time to time, that I’ve a way with people.”
“Really?” Aaron said, “I hadn’t noticed.”
The Parnen captain looked genuinely hurt, “Well, I’ll admit that some hearts are more difficult to touch than others—your own being a prime example—but do not fret. I will find it, sooner or later.”
“I doubt we’ve got that much time.”
No one accosted them as they made their way down the city streets, due in large part, Aaron suspected, to the hooded cloak Leomin wore. With his long, bell-laden hair and distinct, dusky-skin, the man was by far the most conspicuous of the three of them. Still, a man might have thought the cloak was laced with poison the way Leomin had frowned at it when Aaron gave it to him, but he’d been persuaded to wear it nonetheless.
Soon, they arrived at the western gate and, by a bit of luck, found a horse trader nearby. In another stroke of luck, the man happened to have exactly three horses available, along with provisions for the journey. The problem, of course, was that Aaron didn’t trust luck. The god of luck was a notoriously fickle bastard, and even a fool knew that luck always killed more than it saved. Luck, in Aaron’s experience, was a sharp blade a drunk reached for in the dark. He was just as likely to get cut as find the handle.
Outside the stables, their business concluded, Adina took a moment to rub the side of her horse’s face, muttering soft words before mounting it with a practiced grace. Aaron and Leomin glanced at each other then shrugged and mounted their own horses with considerably less skill. “Now,” Adina said, “how do we get through the gate?”
Leomin smiled, “Leave that to me.” Then, before Aaron could object, he was riding toward the gate, and Aaron and Adina were forced to follow.
Gods the man is gonna get us all killed.
Aaron, Co said, her tone curious, do you feel something? It’s as if something’s … gathering. Growing.
No, firefly, he said as he followed Leomin up to the gate, one hand on the reins and the other itching to reach for the handle of his sword. I don’t feel anything. Unless, of course, you mean the growing chance that we’re going to get our fool heads lopped off.
People attempting to leave the city were lined up at the gate, farmers and merchants mostly, gone to start their days, and Aaron frowned as he noticed that the guards were checking each person before they were allowed to leave, studying their faces and appearances, clearly looking for someone. And I think I’ve a pretty good idea of who that might be. He gritted his teeth, wanting to grab Leomin and get out of the line, but he knew that doing so would draw the attention of the guards.
It took about fifteen minutes to reach the front of the line, Leomin in the lead, and one of the four guards stationed at the gate walked up to the Parnen’s horse. “Mornin’.”
“Good morning, brave soldier,” Leomin said, smiling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. A fool, Aaron thought, and soon to be a dead one. He glanced at Adina and saw that her troubled expression mirrored his own thoughts. And us along with him.
The guard peered up at Leomin’s face, struggling to see it past the hood that obscured most of his features. “Lose the hood, friend.”
“Regretfully, sir, I must decline,” Leomin said, “You see, business of the upmost importance forces my friends and I to regretfully depart your fine city. Alas, I am not used to the cold of the north and the hood—”
“I said lose the hood,” the guard said, motioning one of his companions forward, and Aaron noted grimly that both of their hands were gripping the handles of the swords scabbarded at their sides.
With a sigh, Leomin lowered his hood revealing his dusk-colored face and his long dark hair, the many small bells still tied into it. It seemed, then, that everything happened at once. One of the guards gave a cry of surprise, and the other two, who’d been standing back, rushed forward, all of them drawing their swords. Several of those people in line behind them screamed, scattering in all directions. Damn it all, Aaron thought.
He drew his own sword and was just about to move forward, knowing he’d be too late to save the Parnen captain even as he did it. “Get down off the horses, now!” One of the guards shouted, “all three of you, and drop that blade!”
Aaron leaped from his horse, not trusting his ability to fight while mounted, but he did not drop his blade.
“Wait,” Leomin said, and though he had not raised his voice, the word struck the air like a thunder crack, sending a shockwave of power radiating out from him. It struck the guards first, and their faces took on a vacant look as their arms went limp, their swords hanging loosely at their sides. The people in the street—who’d been running only moments before—froze in their tracks, their screams and shouts of surprise cutting off as if on cue. The guards and the people both turned to stare at Leomin, their eyes unfocused as if they’d been drugged. Even Adina, who’d been dismounting, paused hanging halfway off her horse to stare at the Parnen.
Aaron frowned glancing around himself. Thirty or forty people—thirty or forty, at least, and they were all staring at Leomin as if the man was a miracle worker, and they were waiting for his next act. That many people, and the street was as silent as a graveyard.
What the fu—
Sister? Co asked, her own voice full of hope and shock. Aaron felt part of himself—or part of Co, and it was really becoming harder to know the difference—quest outward, toward Leomin. Then there was a sensation, much of like having his hand slapped, and whatever sense had been reaching out toward the Parnen Captain recoiled and vanished altogether. Leomin turned and met Aaron’s eyes, a serious, almost dark expression on his face, the first that Aaron could ever remember seeing on the normally jovial, if confounding Parnen. Never taking his gaze away from Aaron’s own, Leomin held his index finger up to his lips in a quieting gesture.
Aaron frowned, but remained silent and, after a moment, Leomin turned back to the guard. “We are friends,” he said, his voice ringing with that same indescribable power, and Aaron could have sworn that he saw the people around him sway with the impact of those words. “We are innocent travelers leaving this fine city. No one of note, or importance, and there is a really long day ahead of you. A long day and a drink of ale at the end of it. We need not make it longer than necessary. Let us all go on about our day.”
The guards seemed to flinch with each word as Leomin’s gaze settled upon them, and, after a moment, Aaron was shocked to see them return their swords to their scabbards. The crystallized moment in time shattered then, and all of the people in the street went on about what they were doing, picking up conversations they’d left off midsentence as if nothing had occurred, and once more the sounds of laughter and shouts of merchants hawking their wares filled the street. “Alright, friend,” the guard who’d challenged him said, “everything looks good. The gods’ blessing on your journey.”
Leomin smiled, “Thank you, and the gods’ blessing on your own.”
Aaron glanced at Adina and saw her shaking her head as if waking from a particularly deep, particularly real dream as she remounted her horse. He took the time to mount his own horse once more then, frowning, he followed behind her as Leomin led them out of the city.
Once they were away from the gate and on the dirt road leading west, Aaron rode up to Leomin, leaving Adina behind for the moment. “Seems to me like we have something we need to talk about.”
The Parnen captain glanced over at him, his expression serious, “And talk we will, Mr. Envelar, but not now. Not here. We must put as much distance betw
een ourselves and this city as possible. This thing that I have done … there are those who know it for what it is, those to whom it is like a siren’s call, beckoning them onward. They will come, looking for the source of that call. And the ones who come … we are not ready. You are not ready.”
Aaron started to ask him what he meant by that, but Leomin gave his horse’s flanks a kick, and he was off, galloping down the road at full speed. Aaron stared after the man, a storm of emotions roiling within him. Confusion at what he’d seen, frustration at the Parnen’s evasiveness but, most of all, worry. Leomin was not normally the type of man who took threats seriously. The man had somehow broken Darrell out of jail, had even suffered an assassination attempt by one of his crew shortly after Aaron had first met him, and he’d barely acted upset at all. The fact that he was so concerned now, that he was obviously afraid of whomever “they” were, those who would come hunting them for doing … for doing what, exactly? Never mind. There would be time, he decided, to wonder over it all later. For now, he turned to Adina who was staring at the departing back of the Parnen in confusion. “Come on,” he said, “let’s go.”
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
They rode the horses hard that night, pausing only in brief intervals to walk them and let them cool off before starting off again. During one of the few moments when they were walking the horses, Adina came up beside them. “Alright, now I need someone to explain to me what’s happening,” she said.
“Happening, my dear lady?” Leomin asked, his face one of picturesque innocence, “why, we are riding horses, of course. Or, perhaps, it can be said that they are walking us. Marvelous beasts, I must admit, easy of temperament, and their speed! Why, it is as if I ride on the wind itse—”
“No, Leomin,” Adina said, “I will not be distracted. We’d barely left the city, and you and Aaron are riding as if there’s a whole army chasing us. Did something happen at the gate?” She frowned, “It’s the strangest thing. I’m having a hard time remembering how we made it through. Still, I’ve been checking behind us over every rise, and I don’t see anyone following. Why, then, the haste? At this speed, we’ll kill the horses long before we reach my sister’s kingdom, let alone Perenia, the capital.”
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