Time's Children

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Time's Children Page 46

by D. B. Jackson


  She kept her questions to herself.

  They neared a bend in the strand. It curved around an outcropping of the escarpment, and Mara thought she discerned a faint glow of flame beyond it. Tobias might have seen it as well. He quickened his pace. The beach narrowed and, with the tide coming in, they had to wade around the cliff face. On the other side, the shore widened again revealing another cove, this one lit by a large fire and half a dozen torches. Dories bobbed on the waves, and people clustered on the beach around barrels, casks, crates, and burlap sacks. Musicians played, people danced and laughed.

  Tobias cast a smile her way and led her toward the throng gathered there. Before they’d covered half the distance, he halted, astonishment lighting his damp face and widening his eyes.

  “It can’t be,” he whispered.

  “What?” When he didn’t answer, she sidled closer to him. “Tobias, what is it?”

  “A stroke of such incredible good fortune, I can’t believe it.” He raised his arm to point at something or someone.

  He didn’t get the chance to say more.

  Four men appeared directly in front of them, as if dropped there by Sipar and Kheraya. Three of them, positioned to form a tight triangle, were clothed in black. The fourth, handsome and dark-skinned, stood at the center of the space these others defined. He wore ministerial robes fringed in Sheraigh blue, and held a sextant in one hand and a pistol in the other. The men around him carried tri-sextants, though Mara was sure they were armed as well.

  She raised the musket to her shoulder and Tobias aimed his pistol at the minister. None of the other men moved.

  Mara had only heard the name, and so could only guess at the man’s identity.

  “Good evening, Tobias,” he said, a sharp smile exposing perfect teeth. “We’ve been looking for you.”

  It was all the confirmation she needed. This had to be Orzili.

  Chapter 39

  30th Day of Sipar’s Settling, Year 633

  They were so close to making their escape, closer even than Mara knew. They had only to secure passage and they would be free of Daerjen and the peril embodied in the man standing before them.

  Which was why Tobias shouldn’t have been surprised. It had been too easy. He should have known Orzili would find them.

  The assassin looked just as Tobias remembered. A roguish smile on his lips, his bronze hair streaked with strands of gold that shone with torch fire, his eyes shrewd and cruel and intelligent. Tobias should have fired the instant he recognized him, but the assassin’s appearance brought back a flood of dark memories. Flame, steel, anguish. He could barely breathe. He feared Sofya would die because of his hesitation.

  “Put down your weapons, or I’ll kill the princess,” Orzili said, his gaze flicking to Mara. His pistol didn’t waver.

  “We won’t.” Tobias’s voice remained level, despite the tripping of his heart. “Drop yours or we’ll kill you where you stand.”

  The assassin shook his head. “I don’t think so. You had the opportunity when we arrived. You didn’t take it.”

  “That means nothing. We’re leaving here tonight, and I won’t let you stop us.”

  Orzili laughed. “Leaving? Why should I care if you leave? I can track you anywhere. Don’t you understand that by now? With these devices, I can go anywhere I wish, armed and accompanied by soldiers. You won’t escape me again, Tobias.” He spared Mara a glance and a grin. “He isn’t as pretty as he once was. I’m sorry for that. Couldn’t be helped. Shall I tell you how he wept at the mere thought of being subjected to more torture? Shall I tell you how he screamed and begged us for mercy?”

  Mara kept her musket level, but she cast a glance at Tobias that bespoke pity and rage at what had been done to him.

  “Give me the princess,” Orzili said, eyes on Tobias once more. “Or die. Those are your choices.”

  Tobias didn’t answer.

  “I can spare your companion. She need not die. The two of you can go free. Just give me the child. Everything else is negotiable.”

  “No.”

  “What do you think to gain?” Orzili asked. “As I’ve already said, we can find you anywhere.”

  The report of Mara’s musket was like a bomb going off by his ear. Tobias stumbled away from her. Sofya wailed. Even Orzili flinched.

  But Mara’s aim was true. Her shot had struck the golden device held by the nearest of Orzili’s men, ripping it from the assassin’s hand. It lay in the sand, glinting with torch fire, bent beyond repair. The man massaged his palm and fingers. All of them gaped at the ruined device. All, that is, except Mara, who dropped the musket and produced her pistols from her belt.

  “You can’t follow us anywhere now,” she said.

  The men and women on the beach had heard the shot and stared their way. Several strode in their direction.

  “That was foolish!” Orzili said, aiming his pistol at Tobias again.

  Tobias grinned. “Actually, I think it was bloody brilliant.”

  “Draw your weapons!”

  At Orzili’s command, his men reached for their pistols. Mara fired again. Tobias hesitated, torn between his impulse to protect Mara from the other assassins and his fear of Orzili. He shifted his gaze for an instant. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Orzili’s hand twitch.

  With a cry, Tobias wrenched his body, tucking his shoulder and twisting away from the man. Shielding Sofya.

  Flame belched from Orzili’s pistol and the report boomed. White hot pain blazed in Tobias’s arm. He sprawled to the sand, dropping his pistol, but landing on his elbows, above the squalling princess. The impact jolted agony through his wounded arm. Tears stung his eyes. Warm blood soaked his shirt. He held himself over the child, refusing to leave her unprotected. More shots echoed from where the others had been standing.

  Mara shouted his name. Tobias looked up just as Orzili dove onto him, fist raised, a blade gleaming. He twisted again to meet this attack. Sofya continued to scream, vulnerable now.

  The force of Orzili’s weight jarred him, stole his breath. He grabbed hold of Orzili’s wrist, just below the knife, but the man leaned into him, pressing the blade toward Tobias’s face. Tobias fought, arms trembling. He knew he couldn’t hold him off for long.

  Orzili raised his other fist and pounded it into the bloody wound on Tobias’s arm, once, then twice more. Tobias howled.

  Somehow, he maintained his grip on the man’s blade hand.

  His wounded arm felt leaden, but he managed to move it. He snaked that hand under Orzili’s gut, to his own belt. Groped for the blade he carried there.

  Orzili hammered the bullet wound again, then lifted himself slightly and cracked Tobias across the jaw.

  The blow made his vision swim, but it also gave him room to draw his knife. Before Orzili could strike him again, or harm the princess, Tobias buried the blade hilt deep in Orzili’s thigh. Orzili bellowed and threw himself off Tobias. Tobias kept hold of the knife, so that it ripped out of the assassin’s leg, eliciting another cry. Blood poured from the gash he’d made.

  With his good hand, Tobias grabbed for his pistol. Found it. Aimed.

  Orzili stumbled to his feet before Tobias could fire. He fled, limping, but at speed. Tobias propped himself up, took aim again. His hand shook violently and his vision remained blurred. But he squeezed the trigger. The shot boomed, and the flintlock bucked in his hand. Orzili ran on, unhurt.

  Voices reached Tobias. The others – the people on the beach. Nearer now, coming to help, he hoped. Tobias dragged himself to where his sack lay and pulled from it his other pistol.

  Orzili retreated into the darkness, away from the torches, back toward the Notch. He shed clothes as he ran. His robe, his shirt. He paused to pull off his shoes and hose and to lurch out of his breeches. Then he was hobbling away again, naked, his sextant gleaming in one hand, one of the more elaborate sextants in the other.

  Tobias forced himself up and raised his pistol once more, bracing it as best he could with the
other hand. He fired. Orzili ducked, lurched, nearly tripped, but righted himself and ran on. A moment later, he vanished. The man was a Spanner, after all. Probably he would be back in Hayncalde Castle before… Well, he was probably there now.

  “Tobias?” Mara knelt beside him. Concern knotted her brow and creased the lines around her mouth.

  “I’m all right.”

  “You’re not. There’s a lot of blood.”

  He looked down at his arm. Blood glistened in the light and stained much of his sleeve. He shifted his gaze and shuddered, feeling faint.

  “We can bind it,” he said. “But we need to leave here. Now more than ever.”

  One of Orzili’s assassins stood nearby, guarded by several men and women, all of them holding flintlocks. The other two killers lay on the sand, blood slicking their chests.

  Sofya still screamed. Sand covered her clothes and dirtied her face, mingling with her tears. Tobias tried to lift her with one hand, but couldn’t.

  “I’ll get her,” Mara said. She lifted the princess and faced the crowd that had gathered around them. “My friend needs a healer. Can any of you help him?”

  “I’ve sent for someone,” said a young woman. “A surgeon. He’ll be here soon.”

  Mara closed her eyes for a heartbeat. “Thank you.”

  “Who are you?” asked one of the others, a merchant by the look of him. “Who are these men? And who was that running away? The bare-assed one?”

  His companions laughed.

  Mara eyed Tobias.

  “He’s the assassin who killed Mearlan, sovereign of Hayncalde,” Tobias said, his voice carrying. Sweat beaded on his forehead, chilling him. He didn’t know how long he could remain upright, and he had arrangements to make. But he indicated the assassins with his good hand. “These are Sheraigh men.”

  “And you?”

  “I was Mearlan’s Walker. I was there the night he died.”

  Some nodded at this. Others regarded the princess, speculation in their glances. The surgeon arrived before they could ask more questions. He helped Tobias lie back on the sand and examined his bloodied arm. Tobias hissed a breath through clenched teeth, and closed his eyes.

  “The God was kind,” the man said after some time. “The ball missed bone and vein. It’s still in there, though. I’m no healer; I have no powers. But I’ve some skill. If you wish to keep the arm, I should cut that bullet out tonight.”

  “All right. First, I need to speak with someone. A woman–”

  “I’m right here,” Mara said, stepping into his view.

  Tobias shook his head. “Not you. There was a woman with the others. Tall, thin, with black hair and black eyes. She’s from one of the ships. I saw her earlier.”

  “I know who he means.” The man pointed. “She’s over there. Have your conversation,” he said, turning back to Tobias. “I’ll gather what I need for the surgery.”

  He left Tobias and Mara. The others had bound the surviving assassin hand and foot. Tobias wondered what they would do with him.

  “Do you want me to speak with the woman?” Mara shifted Sofya in her arms.

  “Bring her to me,” Tobias said. “This may be our best opportunity to get away, and I know her from… from before.”

  Mara nodded and strode away in the direction the surgeon had indicated. Tobias closed his eyes again, shivering with the tap of cold rain on his face. Sooner than he expected, Mara spoke his name. He hadn’t heard her return.

  She stood over him with the woman he had seen and recognized. He took a moment to look at the princess. She was calmer now, though streaks of sand still marked the path of her tears.

  “You asked to speak with me,” the tall woman said.

  “Yes. You’re Seris Larr, aren’t you? Captain of the–” He stopped himself. “Of a merchant ship.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Have we met?”

  Tobias resisted the impulse to answer cryptically. He had been harboring secrets for too long. Right now he needed to be as candid as possible.

  “We have, but not that you’d remember. I’m a Walker, and in another future I secured passage on your ship from Windhome Palace to Daerjen.”

  Her eyebrows went up.

  “You don’t believe me.”

  “It’s an unusual claim.”

  “I can prove it. Your ship is called the Gray Skate.”

  She smirked, though again her eyebrows went up. “Actually, my ship is the Sea Dove. But I’ll admit the Gray Skate is a name I’ve considered for the future.”

  This brought Tobias up short, but not for long. “In that other time, you offered to make me part of your crew. You thought having a Walker aboard your ship might prove profitable. You told me you would take me to lands I had never seen, never even dreamed of.”

  She shrugged. “Sounds like me. Apparently you refused my offer.”

  “I did. I had been promised to the sovereign. All that has changed, and we need to leave this place. If you seek Travelers for your crew, as you did then, you should consider the two of us. My friend here is a Spanner as well as a Walker.”

  “I’m…” Larr frowned. “You have me at a disadvantage. This isn’t something I’ve even considered. It seems I’ll be more forward-thinking in the future.” She allowed herself a quick grin. “And I’m not sure you’re in any condition to start a voyage. Not right now.”

  “We have no choice.”

  “I understand. But I don’t care to take on passengers who are so likely to attract Sheraigh attention.”

  Tobias drew breath to argue, but the captain raised a hand and looked Mara’s way. “Is this your child?”

  Mara and Tobias exchanged another glance.

  “No,” Tobias said. “She’s the sovereign princess of Hayncalde.”

  Larr exhaled, appearing to deflate. “Blood and bone.”

  “I have two apertures in my bag. They’re yours to sell or barter as you see fit: additional payment, beyond our services, for passage aboard your ship.”

  She waved her hand, a vague dismissal of the offer. “That’s generous, but you’re asking for far more than passage. You seek–”

  “Refuge, yes.”

  “I’ll need to consider this.”

  The surgeon approached, bearing a bottle and several instruments, including a blade that flickered with torchlight. Tobias looked away, swallowing against a wave of nausea.

  “Please don’t leave until the surgeon is done,” he said through gritted teeth.

  Larr hesitated, then nodded.

  “Should I stay?” Mara asked.

  “No. Find some food, for you and the babe. And make sure she’s warm.”

  She considered him, as if to memorize his face. After another moment, she walked away. The surgeon dropped to his knees beside Tobias and uncorked the bottle. The smell of spirit reached him.

  “Is that for the wound?”

  “It’s for you. I want you to drink a lot of it. This is going to hurt.”

  Tobias tried to smile, failed. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me the opposite?”

  The man held out the bottle. “Drink.”

  Tobias downed as much of the stuff as he could. Nevertheless, the first bite of the man’s blade tore a scream from his throat. He passed out soon after.

  He woke beside a fire, his arm still attached and throbbing. The rain had stopped, and a few stars peeked through gaps in the scudding clouds. A bandage, already stained with a circle of blood, covered his arm, elbow to shoulder.

  Mara sat nearby, as did the surgeon.

  Seeing that Tobias had opened his eyes, the man crawled closer. “How are you feeling?”

  “It still hurts.”

  “I would think so. You’ll keep the arm, and I expect you’ll have full use of it eventually.”

  Tobias blew out a long breath. “Thank you.”

  Sofya gave a soft cry, her arms stretched toward him, her tiny hands opening and closing.

  The surgeon smiled. “I’ll leave you. Rest.
That’s the best thing you can do now.”

  “I’m in your debt.”

  The man shook his head as he climbed to his feet. “The enemy of my enemy and all that. You owe me nothing.” He walked away.

  Sofya fussed again.

  “She wouldn’t let me out of your sight,” Mara said.

  Tobias beckoned her closer with a waggle of the fingers on his good hand.

  Mara scooted closer and set the princess on his stomach. The child clapped her hands and then laid her head on Tobias’s chest, her thumb in her mouth.

  “She might as well be yours,” Mara said, her voice low.

  “For the sake of us all, we might have to pretend she’s ours.”

  Even in the dim light, he saw her cheeks flush. She held his gaze and said, “I can do that.”

  “Is the captain still here?”

  “Yes. She’s been avoiding me. She means to refuse us.”

  “She can’t.”

  Mara didn’t bother to argue. She didn’t have to. Of course the captain could leave them here. He would have done the same.

  “Help me up,” he said.

  “You’re supposed to rest.”

  “I know. But if I can’t stand, I certainly can’t get on a ship, can I?”

  Mara scowled, but she set the princess on the sand and helped him to his feet. A wave of dizziness crashed over him, and though he tried to keep his arm still, just getting up sent a jolt of agony through him, making him gasp again. Mara gripped his other shoulder, watching him with a keen eye.

  “Maybe we can stay with Kaarti for a few days,” she said.

  “Orzili will find us again, and he’ll come with greater numbers. We have to leave tonight, if not with Captain Larr, then with someone else.”

  Mara lifted the princess and handed her to Tobias. With Mara steadying him, they walked in the direction of the torches. Before they were halfway there, Larr strode to meet them.

  “I thought I should do you the courtesy of waiting,” she said, her tone crisp, her voice low. “I’m afraid I can’t take you with me. The risks are too great.”

  “The risks to us are greater if you leave us here.”

 

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