Traitor's Moon

by Lynn Flewelling

  Alec brought his bow up and let fly, praying the shaft didn’t find Seregil instead. He needn’t have worried. His aim was off and it struck the ground harmlessly just in front of Seregil’s would-be killers. Startled, they jumped back and Seregil twisted free, scrambling back from the edge. Most of the ambushers scattered, ducking for cover. Nyal hit two of them before they’d gotten ten feet. The leader grabbed for Seregil and Alec shot again, this time hitting his mark square in the chest. Seregil saw his chance and dashed away into the shadows.

  Alec managed to take down one more man before the rest disappeared.

  “This way.” Nyal led him down another rock-strewn track, supporting him when Alec’s bad leg gave out. The sound of horses came to them on the quiet night air as they reached the cliff, echoing up from the direction of the main trail.

  “Damn, they got away!”

  “How many?” wondered Nyal.

  “Enough to be trouble if we don’t get out of here fast,” said a familiar voice overhead.

  Alec looked up to find Seregil half hidden behind a boulder. He emerged and slid down the loose slope to join them, hands still tied but clutched now around the hilt of his sword.

  “I take it that you can see?” he asked, giving Alec a thoughtful look.

  Alec shrugged.

  “How many were there?” Nyal asked.

  “I didn’t have a chance to take a count before they knocked me out,” Seregil replied, leading them back to where the dead lay. There were five bodies.

  “Just our luck, running into bandits,” Alec muttered.

  Seregil rubbed at a new bruise developing over his right cheekbone. “They did have the good grace to debate about killing me. Some of them didn’t like the idea. They thought they’d killed you, though, Alec, and so did I, for that matter. When I saw you go off your horse like that—” Extending a hand to Nyal, he said almost grudgingly, “I guess I should be glad to see you. It seems we owe you our lives.”

  Nyal clasped hands with him. “Perhaps you’ll repay me by speaking to Beka on my behalf. I imagine she’s still cursing my name.”

  “So you found her, too?” Alec groaned, feeling a fool to be so easily tracked after all their planning. “Where is she?”

  “Not as far away as she thought. We caught up with her at dawn this morning, less than ten miles from here.”

  “We?” Seregil’s eyes narrowed.

  “The Iia’sidra sent me with a search party,” Nyal replied. “I volunteered, actually. When it became clear that others suspected where you might go, I thought it would be better if I found you first. Tracking her, I saw where you parted ways and guessed that you might make for this smuggler’s pass, not knowing it was blocked. I made certain that my compatriots were occupied with her, then came looking for you.”

  “Our little ruse didn’t fool you?”

  Nyal grinned, “Fortunately for you, my companions don’t have quite the eye for tracking that I do. An unladen horse walks a bit differently than one carrying a man. You won’t get through this way, you know.”

  “So I see,” Seregil said, shaking his head. “I should have guessed about the pass. I just assumed the villages had died for lack of trade.”

  He bent over one of the bodies and pulled his poniard free from the dead man’s chest. “I’ve managed to keep my promise, Adzriel,” he muttered, wiping the blade clean on the dead man’s tunic and slipping it back into his boot. Bending over another, he emptied the man’s purse onto the ground.

  “Ah, here it is!” he exclaimed, holding up Corruth’s ring. “The chain’s gone. Oh, well, what wisdom forbids, necessity dictates.” He slipped it onto his finger and went on with his task.

  Leaving the bodies for the crows, they made a circuit around the area and found three horses tethered in a stand of trees up the slope from the trail, still saddled.

  “You take these,” said Nyal. “Mine is hidden down near where I found you, Alec. There’s another trail a mile or so back down the trail that will take you over to the coast. I’ll set you on it, then head back to report that I found no sign of you. I don’t suppose that will win me any favor with Beka, but it’s a start.”

  Seregil laid a hand on his arm. “You haven’t asked why we’re out here.”

  The Ra’basi gave him an unreadable look. “If you wanted me to know, you’d have told me. I trust enough in your honor, and in Beka’s, to know that you must have good reason for risking your life like this.”

  “Then you really don’t know?” asked Alec.

  “Even my ears aren’t that long.”

  “Can you trust the men who have Beka?” Alec asked, anxious for Nyal to be off.

  “Yes. They’ll keep her safe. Hurry now! There are others hunting you.”

  “You’re really letting us go?” Seregil asked again, unable to believe it.

  The Ra’basi smiled. “I told you, I never intended to capture you. I came to protect Beka if I could, and for her sake I help you now.”

  “What about atui? Where’s your loyalty to your clan, to the Iia’sidra?”

  Nyal shrugged, his smile now tinged with sadness. “Those of us who travel far from our fai’thasts see the world differently than those who don’t, wouldn’t you say?”

  Seregil gave the man a last, searching look, then nodded. “Show us this trail of yours, Nyal.”

  The night was clear and cold, with enough of a moon to travel easily by as they rode back the way they’d come.

  Seregil knew of no other trails in the area, but presently Nyal reined in and led them on foot through a seemingly untouched stretch of woods to a little pond. Just past a jumbled pile of rocks on its far bank, they struck a trail that disappeared up the hillside.

  “Be careful,” Nyal advised. “It’s a good route, well marked once you’ve followed it for a few miles, but treacherous in places, and home to wolves and dragons. Aura watch over you both.”

  “And you,” Seregil returned. “I hope we meet again, Ra’basi, and under happier circumstances.”

  “As do I.” Nyal pulled a flask from his pouch and handed it to Alec. “You’ll be needing this, I think. It’s been an honor to know you, Alec í Amasa of the Hâzadriëlfaie. I’ll do all I can to keep your almost-sister safe, whether she wants me to or not.”

  With that, he melted away into the shadows. Soon they heard the beat of his horse’s hooves fading rapidly away down the road.

  The trail was as bad as Nyal had warned. Steep and uneven, it wound through gullies and across streams. There was no place to go if they were ambushed here.

  It made for hard riding, and though Alec made no complaint, Seregil saw him take several quick swigs from the flask Nyal had given him. He was about to suggest stopping for the night when Alec’s horse suddenly lost her footing and stumbled down a rocky slope, nearly going down on top of her rider.

  Alec managed to stay on, but Seregil heard his strangled cry of pain.

  “We’ll make camp there,” Seregil said, pointing to an overhang just ahead.

  Tethering their mounts on a loose rein in case of wolves, they crawled in under the overhang and spread their stolen blankets.

  It was a cold vigil, watching the moon arc slowly to the west. They could hear the hunting cries of wolves in the distance, together with occasional sounds nearer by.

  Tired as he was, Seregil couldn’t sleep. Instead, he pondered the ambush, wondering how a force of that size could have outflanked them in this country.

  “Those weren’t bandits, Alec,” he muttered, fidgeting restlessly with his belt knife. “But how could anyone track us down fast enough to set up an ambush?”

  “Nyal said they didn’t track us,” Alec replied drowsily.

  “What?”

  “That’s what I thought, too, but he claims he didn’t see any signs of anyone else chasing us. They were there already, waiting for us.”

  “Then someone sent word! Someone who knew exactly where we’d be, except that I’m the only one who knew which pa
ss we were heading for. I didn’t even tell you. Your lightstone, Alec. Do you have it?”

  With the aid of the light, he stripped the saddlebags from their stolen mounts and emptied them into a pile. There were several packets of food, including fresh bread and cheese.

  “Soft fare, for bandits, wouldn’t you say?” he noted, carrying some up to Alec. Returning to the pile, he sorted through the oddments there: shirts, clean linen, a jar of fire chips, a few simples.

  “What’s that?” asked Alec, pointing to something among the tangle of clothes. Hobbling out of the shelter, he pulled a wad of cloth free and held it to the light.

  “Bilairy’s Balls!” gasped Seregil. It was an Akhendi sen’gai.

  “It could be stolen,” Alec said. Stirring through the clothes, he found no others.

  Seregil went back to the horses and found a second one concealed under the arch of a saddle, just where he might have hidden such a thing.

  “But they were going to kill you!” Alec gasped in disbelief. “Why would the Akhendi do that? And how did they find us?”

  “By the Four!” Seregil tore a pouch from his belt and emptied it out beside the rest. There among the coins and trinkets lay Klia’s Akhendi charm, still flecked with dried mud.

  “I forgot I had this,” he growled, clutching it. “I was going to take it back to Amali, then Magyana’s letter came—”

  “Damn. Someone could have used it to scry where we are.”

  Seregil nodded grimly. “But only if they knew I had it.”

  Alec took it and turned it over on his palm, holding it closer to the light. “Oh, no.”

  “What?”

  “Oh, no no no!” Alec groaned. “This bracelet is the one Amali made for Klia, but the charm is different.”

  “How do you know that?” Seregil demanded.

  “Because it’s mine, the one that girl gave me in the first Akhendi village we stopped at. See this little crack in the wing?” He showed Seregil the fissure marring one wing. “That happened when I had the run-in with Emiel that turned it black. It’s the same sort of carving as Klia’s, though, and it was covered in mud when I found it. It never occurred to me to look more closely at it.”

  “Of course it didn’t!” Seregil took it back. “The question is, how did it come to be white again for a while, and on Klia’s bracelet? We saw Amali make this for her, and you still had yours then.”

  “Nyal must have given it to her,” Alec told him, once more thrown into doubt about the Ra’basi.

  “What was he doing with it?”

  Alec told him of the day he’d met Emiel in the House of the Pillars and what had followed. “I got rid of it so you wouldn’t find out. You were already upset enough and I didn’t think Emiel was anyone who mattered. I was going to throw it away, but Nyal said it could be restored, and that he’d have an Akhendi see to it. I’d forgotten all about it.”

  Seregil scrubbed a hand over his face. “I can just guess which Akhendi! You’ve seen how these are made, and how the Akhendi can change one charm for another.”

  “The morning of the hunt, Amali and Rhaish came to see us off,” Alec said, recalling that morning with jarring clarity. “I thought it was odd, since she’d been too ill to go out just the night before.”

  “Did he touch Klia?” Seregil asked. “Think, Alec. Did he get close enough to her to switch the charms somehow?”

  “No,” Alec replied slowly. “But she did.”

  “Amali?”

  “Yes, she clasped hands with Klia. She was smiling.”

  Seregil shook his head. “But she wasn’t at Virésse tupa that night.”

  “No, but Rhaish was.”

  Seregil clapped a hand to his forehead. “The rhui’auros said I already knew who the murderer is. That’s because we saw it happen. You remember when Rhaish stumbled as he greeted Torsin? Torsin was dead a few hours later, and there was no charm on him. Someone had removed it. Rhaish must have seen the charm and known it could give him away. Knots and weaving, Alec. He must have taken the bracelet as soon as he’d poisoned him.”

  “And Klia helped Rhaish up when he stumbled,” added Alec. “He left soon after, so it must have been then that he poisoned her.” He paused. “But wait. Klia had on the same sort of charm. Why take Torsin’s, and not hers?”

  “I don’t know. You’re certain it was unchanged that morning?”

  “Yes. I noticed it on her wrist at breakfast. So why change it for mine?”

  “I don’t know, but someone obviously changed it at some point, and they wouldn’t have done so without reason.” He stopped as realization struck.

  “It could have been the husband and the wife together! ‘Smiles conceal knives,’ isn’t that what we were told? Bilairy’s Codpiece, I’ve been blinder than a mole in a midnight shit heap. Rhaish didn’t expect the Iia’sidra to vote his way. He never did. And if he’d learned of Torsin’s secret negotiations, and what that meant for Akhendi—he needs to discredit the Virésse, and what better way than to show Ulan í Sathil to be a guest murderer? I, of all people, should have seen through that one!” He clasped his head in both hands. “If I’m ever, ever this stupid again, will you please boot me in the ass?”

  “I haven’t been any better,” Alec said. “So Ulan is innocent, and Emiel, too?”

  “Of murder, at least.”

  “Damn it, Seregil, we’ve got to warn Klia and Thero! After your own family, the Akhendi are the ones they’re most likely to trust!”

  “If we don’t stop Korathan, it won’t make much difference. We have to find him first.”

  Alec stared at him in disbelief. “Beka’s heading right back into it, and we still don’t know whose side Nyal is really on. Anyone who knows she was with us may assume that she knows whatever we know.”

  Seregil stared at the Akhendi charm. “I suspect she’s in less danger now than we are. They found us with this once. They can again. Yet it’s the one real piece of evidence we have against the Akhendi, so we can’t afford to destroy it or throw it away. We’ll just have to go on as fast and as cautiously as we can. Once we’ve dealt with Korathan, we’ll figure out what to do.”

  “You mean we just leave her?” Alec kicked angrily at a loose stone. “This is really what it means to be a Watcher, isn’t it?”

  “Sometimes.” For the first time in a very long time, Seregil felt the gulf of age and experience that lay between them, deep as the Cirna Canal. He gripped Alec gently by the back of the neck, knowing there was nothing he could say that would ease his friend’s pain or his own. It was only the long years he’d spent with Nysander and Micum that allowed him to fend off visions of Beka dead, captured, lost.

  “Come on,” he said at last, helping Alec back to their makeshift shelter. “Thero chose her with good reason. You know that. Now get some sleep if you can. I’ll keep watch.”

  He draped their blankets around Alec, settling him as comfortably as he could against the rough stone. Alec said nothing, but Seregil again sensed an unspoken welter of emotion.

  Leaving him to his grief, he went out to keep watch. Duty was a fine and noble thing, most days. It was only at times like this one, when you noticed how it wore away at the soul, like water over stone.

  43

  DIRE SIGNS

  Nyal rode all night and picked up the trail of Beka and the others just after dawn. They’d returned to the main road and pushed on at a gallop. Spurring his lathered mount, Nyal hurried on, hoping to catch up.

  As he rode, he went over in his mind what he could say to Beka that would reassure her without giving away his own complicity in her friends’ escape. At last he was forced to admit that, barring Seregil’s own testimony on his behalf, there was little he could do for the moment except ensure her safe return to the city. Not that this should be such a difficult task. They were in Akhendi territory, after all.

  Caught up in his thoughts, he galloped around a curve and was nearly thrown when his horse suddenly shied and reared. He clung on, yan
king the gelding’s head around and reining it to a standstill, then turned to see what had spooked it.

  A young Gedre lay in the middle of the road, his face covered in drying blood. A chestnut mare grazed nearby.

  “Aura’s mercy! Terien,” Nyal croaked, recognizing both man and horse. This was one of Beka’s escorts.

  Dismounting, he went to him and felt for a pulse. There was a nasty gash over the boy’s eye, but he was still breathing. His eyes fluttered open as Nyal examined the wound.

  “What happened?” Nyal asked, pressing his water skin to the boy’s lips.

  Terien drank, then slowly sat up. “Ambush. Just after sun up. I heard someone yell, then I went down.”

  “Did you see anyone?”

  “No, it all happened so quickly. I’ve never heard of bandits this far south on the main road.”

  “Neither have I.” Nyal helped him onto his horse. “There’s a village not too far from here. Can you get yourself there?”

  Terien grasped his saddle horn and nodded.

  “How was the Skalan when you last saw her?”

  Terien let out a faint snort. “Sullen.”

  “Was she tied?”

  “Hand and foot, so she wouldn’t fall off if her horse bolted.”

  “Thank you. Find a healer, Terien.”

  Sending him on his way, Nyal strode into the trees and looked for signs of the ambushers. He found the prints of at least six men, and where they’d hobbled their horses.

  Leading his horse, he walked on down the road, reading the marks of an ambush and chase in the trampled earth. Around another bend he found three more of his men. Two Gedre brothers were supporting his cousin, Korious, as they headed back in his direction. There was blood on the Ra’basi’s arm.

  “Where are the others?” he asked, heart hammering in his chest.

  “An ambush, not an hour ago,” Korious told him. “They came out of nowhere, with their faces covered. Teth’brimash, I think. They killed two of the Silmai, back down the road. We lost some others in the initial attack.”