The boy scrunched up his nose in disgust. Lago gave a grunt of laughter and tugged a key out of his shirt. He held it up in the lantern light. “Only three of these remain. We guard them with our lives.” He nodded toward the rafters. “You marked my men up there, I see.”
“Is that for us or the Front Guard?” asked Tyla.
“Depends,” said Lago, then he placed the key in the first of five heavy iron locks. He opened each one, then braced his weight as he pulled open the massive door. The inner chamber led down a flight of steep stairs, but they were well lit with torches at even intervals. Tyla followed Selig inside and waited on the landing until all of her companions had crossed the threshold. Lago pulled the door closed and threw all five bolts.
“How will you know if those men get into trouble?” asked Jarrett.
“This isn’t the only way out,” said Lago. “We also have spies posted all over the street, in warehouses and canneries for miles around. If Sarkisian comes this way, we’ll be told before they even get to the first pier.”
He pushed through the group and led the way down the staircase. Tyla gripped the rail and placed her feet carefully on the treads. Although it was well lit, it was still steep and she didn’t want to twist an ankle.
The air grew progressively cooler as they descended and she pulled the hood of her parka up over her hair. The bottom of the stairs opened into a wide, circular room with crates and tables lined along each wall. A man stood with his back to them, his hair salted with grey. Around him lay a number of people, some of which moaned in pain. Tyla’s eyes widened.
“Baron,” said Lago, ducking his head. “I’m sorry to bother you.”
The man broke off his conversation with a brunette woman, whose hair was cut above her ears. He turned and appraised the group, then focused on Tyla. Tyla could feel the catch in his breath, the way his pupils widened when he saw her. He knew who she was or at least, he knew of her.
“Apparently, there’s been some trouble,” he said, speaking to Lago but never taking his eyes off Tyla.
Lago reached back and grabbed Nevis, hauling him forward by the scruff of his threadbare jacket. “These gutter-snipes have been reporting to the Guardsmen for meat pies.”
The Baron shifted his gaze to the boy and gave him a severe look.
“They’re under my protection,” said Tyla in her most imperial tone.
The Baron’s attention refocused on her. Tyla noted that besides herself, he was the only person she’d ever seen with green eyes, although his were much darker than hers. He inclined his head slightly. “As you will, Your Majesty. Will you be taking them with you upon your departure?” The slight lift at the corners of his mouth told her he was teasing her. For some reason, she was reluctant to probe his mind as she usually did when she first met someone.
“I thought you might be able to put their skills to good use, Baron.”
He did smile now. “My name is Parish, Parish Brazelton,” he said, holding out his hand.
Tyla placed her own in his. Instead of a rough handshake like she’d expected, he covered the back of her hand with his free one and clasped it for a moment. Then he gradually released her.
“I am…”
He held up a finger to silence her. “I know who you are, Your Majesty. We are honored by your visit.”
Tyla narrowed her eyes. What game was he playing? Anxiety prickled along her spine and she looked at the bodies scattered around the room. “Have you had a battle?”
Parish shared a glance with the dark haired woman. “A pitched one, if you can call it that. The Guardsmen roughed up a number of my people, trying to get information.”
“About us?”
“Most likely,” said Parish. He turned his attention on Lago. “Did you encounter soldiers?”
Lago shook his head. “We left before they arrived, but I’m sure they weren’t far behind. The gutter-snipes went to them immediately.” He shook Nevis for good measure.
“I have some skill at healing,” Tyla interrupted. “Would you allow me to help look after the wounded?”
“Maybe we’d better talk about how we going to get out of Kazden first,” said Jarrett.
Parish shifted to appraise him. The tension between the two men was palpable. “Sarkisian closed the front gate a few hours ago. They must have been alerted to your presence. It’s a wonder you weren’t taken at the bridge.”
“Yes, it is,” said Jarrett coolly. “Any other ways out of the city? Obviously, there are two obstacles in our way now – the bridge and the front gate.”
Parish’s shoulders sagged in weariness. He lifted a hand and rubbed it over his face. “I have to think about this.” His gaze shifted to Tyla again. “All the power and resources at my command are yours, Your Majesty.”
“I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you, Baron.”
“Parish, please. Baron is just an inside joke here. I’m a gutter-snipe myself,” he said with a self-deprecating smile. His expression grew serious again. “Truthfully, helping you is more than a little selfish. From what I’ve heard, should Rarick get a hold of you, the Lawries will be all but finished.”
Tyla didn’t respond.
“We could use your healing ability if you don’t mind sharing it, while I try and find a way out of this mess.” He motioned the dark haired woman forward. “Edessa will show you the supplies and help you triage the worst cases.”
Edessa also gave her a quick bow. “Come with me, Your Highness,” she said, motioning behind her.
Tyla nodded and watched Parish walk away, flanked by Lago and the four boys. She couldn’t help but feel there had been more the Baron wanted to say to her, but hadn’t.
CHAPTER 18
Tyla looked up when Kendrick hunkered down across from her. She was sitting by the make-shift cot of an old man, struck in the head by one of the soldiers when he wouldn’t give them any information. He hadn’t awoken yet and she’d been trying to find out why. When she searched his thoughts, he made it clear that he was ready to be done with life.
She knew she could force him back if she wanted, but she wasn’t sure that was the right decision. He was content to die, in very little pain, and even if she succeeded in bringing him back to a level of consciousness, it didn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t still die. Was it necessary to make him wake up here in a strange location when he felt like he was in a safer place?
“Any luck?” asked Kendrick, nodding down at him.
She sighed. “He wants to die. I’m not sure it’s right for me to intervene.”
Kendrick’s brow furrowed. She knew he wouldn’t understand, but she didn’t have the energy to explain it to him. And she knew he wouldn’t question her. Never. No matter how confusing her decisions.
“You should get some rest,” he suggested.
She nodded and reached out to take the old man’s hand. It felt cold and dry. “I just want to sit with him a few minutes longer.”
“Were many of the injuries bad?”
“Bad enough,” she answered. “And unnecessary.” She looked over at the people lying on cots. Edessa and a few of the boys were distributing food and water. “I caused this,” she said.
Kendrick’s frown deepened. “You didn’t cause this.”
She shifted her attention to him. “How didn’t I? This happened because I insisted on coming to Kazden.”
“They knew we’d come here. We had no other choice.”
“All of it, the siege, the Lawries, all of it is my fault.” She said it quietly, her voice steady.
Kendrick shook his head. “Rarick began the siege before you were born. The Lawries would have formed no matter what. They aren’t the first rebels to respond to absolute power and they won’t be the last.” He motioned at the bodies. “And this hasn’t been the only time Guardsmen have roughed up these people. They’ve been doing it for decades. But you do have a point.”
Tyla’s brows lifted. “And that is?”
“You’ve got to get bey
ond Rarick’s control. He won’t stop until you’re beyond his power.”
She briefly closed her eyes. “I can’t leave Kian on that beach,” she whispered.
Kendrick gave her a sympathetic look. “I understand, but we can’t go back there now. You said yourself that he’d be all right on his own. You’re going to have to trust that his instincts are strong enough to provide for him.”
She opened her eyes. “You’re right. I do need rest.” She released the old man’s hand. “You’re also right that we can’t go back to the beach, but I don’t think we need to.”
Kendrick gave her a confused look.
She climbed to her feet and stretched. “Thank you for talking to me,” she said, realizing he’d been trying to help her. It went a long way to warm her feelings toward him.
He gave her a nod, but didn’t respond.
She smiled wryly, then headed in Edessa’s direction. She needed a quiet corner in which to sleep.
* * *
“There’s only one way as I see it,” said Parish. He smoothed the map with his hands, then pointed to a spot up the coast.
Jarrett leaned forward. He exchanged a look with Muzik. “That’s a cliff.”
“Not exactly,” said Parish. He pointed to a tiny spit of brown. “There’s a small beach here.”
Jarrett frowned up at him. “A small beach surrounded by water and rocks. Just how are we going to get horses to that location?”
“Horses?” said Parish with a puzzled expression. “You can’t go by horse. I’m taking you by boat.”
“Whoa!” said Earon, dropping forward in his chair. “I’ve got five Guardsmen horses holed up in that shack Bonna calls a stable.”
“Not anymore, you don’t.”
Earon’s face drained of color. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that the Guardsmen have commandeered all of the horses in Kazden. Easiest way to keep you from escaping, or so they think.”
“Won’t they think of commandeering the boats too?” asked Jarrett.
“Those flatlanders? They don’t think that way and no one’s about to tell them.”
Jarrett was skeptical. “Unless they pay the right boys…”
Parish’s smug look sobered.
“Hold on a minute!” said Earon, climbing to his feet. “My horses are gone? Is that what I’m hearing?”
Parish ignored him. “Seems we’d better make our move tonight then.”
Jarrett gave a short nod of agreement. “Explain how this works. I’m a flatlander myself.”
“We’ll sail up to this point,” said Parish, indicating a shallow cove on the map. “There are rocks at low tide, but I know how to maneuver around them…”
“Wait. You’re taking us?”
Parish glanced up. “Who else? I’ve been sailing these waters since before you were born, boy.”
“That wasn’t what I meant. I just thought you were needed here.”
Parish straightened. “I’m needed where Talar Eldralin’s daughter needs me.”
Jarrett started to respond, but Earon shoved his way between them.
“How do I get my horses back?”
Parish didn’t even look at him. “You don’t. They’re gone. I’m sure the Guardsmen have discovered that those horses aren’t exactly yours.”
“The hell they aren’t. I paid good money for those horses and I want them back.”
Parish’s green eyes shifted to pin the runner. “Then go ask for them.”
Earon swung toward Jarrett. “We had an agreement.”
Jarrett glared at him. “Shut up, you idiot. I’m not talking about your stupid horses anymore.”
Earon sank into his chair again. “I’ve got nothing now.”
Muzik thumped a finger on the map. “What do we do after we make this beach?”
Parish traced a path into the mountains above Kazden. “We walk. A day’s hard push and there’s a Lawry outpost. We can get enough supplies to get you over the mountains, parkas and such, and a couple of pack mules. No horses, but horses won’t do you much good in the snow that’ll be sitting in those passes.”
“The Guard will be mounted,” said Jarrett, sitting back in his chair.
Parish shook his head. “I’m telling you there are damn few horses that can make it through that snow. Guardsmen horses are built for desert running, not snow. If they try to take them up there, they’ll die.”
Earon moaned. They ignored him.
“It’ll be bad enough for us,” said Muzik grimly. “People die in those passes.”
“We’ll get you snowshoes. You ever use them?” Parish asked Muzik.
“A few times.”
Parish motioned to Jarrett.
Jarrett nodded. “Same here.”
“There are a few homesteads up there, places you might be able to stop and get out of the cold. Most of them are loyal to Adishian.”
“How will you get back into the city?”
“Same way I left. I’ll wait until I get word that Sarkisian has left, then I’ll sail back in.” He took a seat as well and folded his hands on his stomach. “I’d go with you, but I’m not as young as I used to be. I’m not sure I wouldn’t slow you down.”
Jarrett offered him a tense smile. “You’ve done enough, more than we can repay,” he said.
Earon placed his head in his hands and moaned again.
* * *
Parish hesitated at the iron door and turned to face them. “This door leads to a set of stairs which will take us up to street level. We’ll be three streets down from the cannery entrance where you came in. We have to make it back to the front of the cannery and across the street. We’ll go down the wharf directly across from the cannery. Our boat’s the one docked at the very end.” He narrowed his eyes on them. “Don’t stop, don’t turn around, just keep going.”
“There are soldiers out there, aren’t there?” said Tyla.
“According to my men, they’re all over the city. They’ve been swarming the wharfs all day. We’ve just got to move with purpose. Hope our clothes conceal us.” He tugged at the neck of his dark shirt.
“I’m gonna get killed,” Earon whined.
“Stay here!” snapped Jarrett. “I don’t know why you’re coming.”
“You owe me compensation for the horses. I’m staying with you until I get it.” He winked at Tyla. “Besides, I want to see Temeron.”
She didn’t respond. Jarrett knew she felt responsible for getting them all to the boat safely. If they waited much longer, she’d order them to remain behind.
“Let’s go, Parish,” said Jarrett, nodding at the door handle and shifting the heavy pack on his shoulder.
Parish didn’t move. “My men will give us what cover they can, but we may have to defend ourselves up close if it comes to that.” He motioned to Lago. The man passed something over to him. “You ever fire a bow?” he asked Jarrett.
Jarrett took it. It was a well-balanced weapon. Right in the middle of the handle was an engraved panther paw. “Yeah, I can use one.” Lago gave him a quiver filled with black tipped arrows.
“I need a few minutes to unfurl the sails. You gotta keep them off us for that long. Lago will help.”
“Done,” said Jarrett.
Parish gave Tyla a nod, then unlocked the door and thrust it open. Jarrett pushed past Parish and climbed the stairs, pausing at the top and scanning both ends of the alley. Boxes, a few trash cans, and a huddle of rags at the mouth of the alley was all he saw. He motioned them up and strode to the end of the alley, peering out.
The rags shifted and a man’s face appeared. He gave Jarrett a salute, then ducked his head again. Parish moved up behind Jarrett, giving the man in rags a nod. The others crowded in behind them.
“Okay. Three blocks up and then across the street,” whispered Parish. “Stay close, but don’t cluster. Pretend you’re just wandering around after a night at the taverns.”
Jarrett took Tyla’s hand and pulled her up beside him. He cau
ght Kendrick’s glare, but he didn’t care. Inhaling deeply, he stepped out of the alley and wrapped an arm around her waist, turning into her as if they were in an intimate conversation.
She curled into his side, but he could feel the tension in every one of her muscles.
“We’re almost there,” he whispered.
“I need a few more minutes,” she answered.
He frowned at her in the light from the lamp over their head. “What?”
“Just a few more minutes.”
He started to ask her what she meant, but motion in the corner of his eyes distracted him. He stared at the dark buildings on the side of them, but he couldn’t mark the motion again. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw that the others were ranged out behind them, strolling along in twos and threes.
They made the front of the cannery. Tyla sucked in an apprehensive breath. She motioned to the end of the row, where the canneries curved away from sight. Jarrett saw three soldiers clearly outlined in the street lamps. They were turned away, but they were within shouting distance.
He tightened his hold on her and they stepped into the street, skirting the lumps of rapidly freezing fish entrails. When he exhaled, his breath came out in a white pant. He was grateful for the fur lined jackets Parish had provided them.
They climbed the three steps to the wharf and picked up their pace. Kendrick and Muzik fell in behind them. Jarrett shifted his hand to Tyla’s elbow. The wooden slats of the pier were slippery with fish scales and icy patches of sea water.
They came to the end and stood, looking down on a large boat. It bobbed against the tide, the mast rising like a spear to pierce the darkness of the night. Parish pushed between them and stepped down into the boat. He reached up and took Tyla’s arm, helping her climb on board. As the others scrambled onto the deck, Parish pointed to the end of the pier.
“Keep them off me until I get these sails up,” he said.
Jarrett dropped his pack into the boat and braced the quiver at his feet. He pulled an arrow free and fitted it to the string. Parish immediately started barking orders, climbing around the sailboat and tugging on bits of fabric. Lago shifted to Jarrett’s side and they watched the end of the pier, searching for signs of movement.
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