The Ranger's Path: The King's Ranger Book 2

by AC Cobble

  Without further word, the woman went through another door and shut it behind her.

  “I’m starving,” muttered Zaine, tugging a sausage free from the string that Raif was holding.

  The big youth found a knife in the kitchen and began slicing off hunks of the cheese. Anne found a bowl filled with fruits and passed those out. They ate and drank from the jug of ale while they plotted until dawn.

  When the herbalist returned at daybreak, she shooed them off to bed, telling them that many of her customers arrived early in the morning and that it would do none of them good to answer questions about why five adventurers were sitting in the kitchen getting drunk so early in the morning.

  The excitement of arriving in Spinesend and safely making it through the thieves’ gate had kept them all awake, but they hadn’t slept in nearly a day. They needed rest. They stepped outside and splashed a little water on their faces to pretend for Anne they were getting clean. Then, everyone climbed the ladder into the loft. There were nearly a dozen low pallets piled with folded blankets and pillows. It was warm, tucked under the eaves of the cottage, and blinking heavy lids, they lay down fully clothed.

  Rew, lying on a pallet beside Anne, whispered, “Odd, isn’t it, having these beds up here?”

  Anne grunted, her eyes already closed.

  “Are you going to tell me what this is about, who that is downstairs? Is there anything we need to know?”

  “She’s an old friend,” explained Anne, “and I’ll tell you about it the moment you tell me why you refuse my healing.”

  Rew groaned and flopped onto his back.

  “Not so nice when it’s someone else keeping the secrets, is it?” asked Anne.

  “I can’t. Anne, I’d tell you if I could,” he said, speaking to the thick beams of the ceiling a pace above his head. “Don’t put us at risk because you’re irked at me. I saw the supplies that woman hawked. I thought you had an aversion to necromancy?”

  “I do,” declared Anne. “The woman is no more a necromancer than you or I, and Rew, don’t lecture me about putting the party at risk, unless you are willing to swear to me that the secrets you keep are not of the dangerous sort?”

  He had no response to that, so instead, he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

  That evening, they reconvened in the kitchen. The herbalist wordlessly served them heaping bowls full of noodles and vegetables covered in a savory mushroom broth. Raif saw there was no meat involved and muttered about it, but once he’d tried the dish, he wolfed down his serving and gratefully accepted another. The herbalist left an ale jug on the table, but after a look from Anne, Rew declined, and the younglings followed his example.

  Looking wistfully at the jug, he admitted to himself they did have a tricky bit of work to do that night. Perhaps it was for the best.

  “Tell us what you’re thinking, Rew,” suggested Anne.

  He cleared his throat then glanced at the herbalist, who was in the corner taking a hot loaf of sweetbread from her oven. She didn’t look as if she was trying to eavesdrop, but it was a small kitchen, and she couldn’t help but overhear every word that they said.

  “She’s trustworthy,” assured Anne.

  “Well,” began Rew, frowning at Anne, “the problem with arcanists is that they’re all old and studious.”

  Zaine guffawed, but the others listened patiently.

  “If I recall correctly, Duke Eeron has six arcanists, and they all have chambers in the keep,” said Rew. “They live and work there. I imagine they rarely leave.”

  “They have to leave sometime,” said Zaine, “unless they’re keeping Baron Fedgley in their own chambers. We just need to wait for them to come out.”

  Rew shook his head. “It’s not so simple. Eeron’s keep is several times the size of those in Falvar and Yarrow, and there are several public entrances. I can only speculate about private ones or secret passages, which is likely what the arcanist would use if he’s sneaking about. Even if we split up and cover every public entrance, only Zaine knows what the man looks like. The rest of us have no way of knowing if the old men coming and going are the arcanist we seek or are… well, any other old man.”

  “We’ve got to go inside, then,” said Raif, clenching his hand into a fist.

  Rew shook his head at the boy. “Stealth, remember?”

  “You have a plan,” said Cinda. “Out with it.”

  “It’s highly risky for us to sneak into Duke Eeron’s keep, but what if we drew out the arcanists?” proposed Rew. “If we bring them into public where we can observe them, we can identify which of the men Zaine saw meeting with the thieves. If we know the man, we can begin putting a picture together of who this person is, where he goes, and how we can shadow him, or, even better, we might get a chance to snatch him off the street.”

  Nodding, Raif said, “That makes sense. We take him and force the truth out of him.”

  “We have to be careful, though,” warned Rew. “If we take the man, we could bring attention to ourselves when someone comes looking for him. Worse, we may alert his conspirators that something is wrong. It’s possible your father may be moved, and if we don’t get any answers from the arcanist, we could lose our only clue. I suggest we watch first, and we formulate a plan once we have more information. If he doesn’t quickly lead us to your father…”

  Raif nodded and cracked his knuckles.

  “We’ve made it here,” said Cinda. “A few more days to gather intelligence is a worthwhile investment. If we can at least identify the arcanist, I think we’ll have a chance of making it work.”

  “That’s my thought,” confirmed Rew. “Now that we’re here, let’s not be hasty and run out across thin ice.”

  “How will you bring them out?” asked Cinda. “As you say, these men are scholars, and if they’re anything like Arcanist Ralcrist and Baron Worgon’s man, they’ll rarely leave their chambers except on a constitutional, and I suspect we could be waiting weeks to catch the man venturing into the city.”

  Rew nodded. “If men like them did not spend every waking moment studying, I’d call them lazy. It’s unnatural, staying inside all of the time and reading so many books.”

  From the corner of the room, the herbalist snorted.

  Grinning, Rew added, “Whatever their habits, arcanists are men of grand curiosity. They have a burning passion for their subject, and when presented with something they do not understand, they keep digging until they reach a conclusion, not that it is always the correct one. My point is, if we pique their curiosity, they’ll come running. We have to find something that intrigues these men, and we have to stage it in a place they will come to. Most importantly, it has to be an area we can observe.”

  “A mystery that will intrigue a group of arcanists?” questioned Cinda. “I assume you have something in mind?”

  Rew shook his head. “I hoped you would.”

  “What?” asked the girl, laughing. “I don’t know what would interest these men. I’ve never met them, and I know nothing of them.”

  “What would draw out Arcanist Ralcrist?” pressed Rew.

  Cinda shrugged.

  “If we had the man’s crystal, that would do the trick,” mused Rew. “Whether they wanted to study it or to stop it. I don’t think there’s any arcanist in Vaeldon who would ignore a device that could interrupt high magic. It’d be worth a fortune in the right hands, and I’m surprised no one managed to take it—and your father’s arcanist—out of Falvar already.”

  “The crystal was destroyed,” reminded Anne. “Its secrets are lost.”

  “They could be,” acknowledged Rew. “It still seems strange Alsayer wanted the device destroyed. I would have thought such an enchanted artifact would be an incredible boon during the Investiture for either him or his patron. People in power want to hoard secrets, not destroy them.” He scratched his chin and glanced at Cinda. “Regardless, perhaps if Cinda made a large enough—“

  “No,” said Anne.

  “She could do
it!” argued Rew.

  “I want this more than anyone, but I don’t understand how I harnessed that power during the battle,” said Cinda. “I’ll try anything, but I don’t think we should stake our chances on my blind fumbling. You and Anne told me it was made easier because so many souls were departing, right? If that’s what it takes for me to achieve that kind of strength, then it’s not very practical.”

  “Well,” murmured Rew, “I was thinking—“

  “No,” said Anne, again.

  “It could work!” exclaimed Rew.

  “That doesn’t make it a good plan.”

  Cinda glanced between the two of them, confused.

  “The arcanists won’t be able to resist a talent like Cinda,” argued Rew. “That’s what all of this is about, isn’t it? If we draw them to us, it gives us the chance we need.”

  “Maybe it’d give us a chance,” responded Anne, “but certainly it’d alert everyone to our presence in the city.”

  “They’ll know soon enough when we extract Fedgley from the cell,” claimed Rew.

  “No,” repeated Anne.

  “What are you two talking about?” demanded Cinda.

  “We’re not doing it, Rew,” insisted Anne.

  He jabbed a finger toward the herbalist. “I’ve been paying attention, Anne. I know who your friend is. She could get us inside.”

  The herbalist kept working in the corner, ignoring them, but Rew detected a change in her posture. Her shoulders were tense, and she chopped her vegetables with the same vigor Raif used on the practice field. Rew nodded and turned to Anne, raising an eyebrow at her.

  The empath scowled at him, shaking her head.

  “I don’t understand,” said Cinda.

  Sighing, Rew glanced at the noblewoman and explained, “There are extensive crypts beneath Spinesend. They’re guarded and sealed by priests of the Cursed Father, but I believe we have a way in. I thought if…”

  Anne made a sound deep in her throat, and he thought he heard a growl from the herbalist. Cinda blanched.

  “It’s worth thinking about,” muttered Rew.

  “I’m telling you no because it’s the wrong thing to do,” said Anne, “but in addition to that, we’d be trapped down there. There’s one entrance and one exit, and the moment someone detected us, they could seal us inside. You do not want to cross the Cursed Father’s priests, Rew. It is not worth considering.”

  Rew shot a look at the back of the herbalist, but the tension had dropped from her shoulders at Anne’s words, and her chopping had resumed a less frantic pace.

  “I know we dismissed it as too risky before, but should we contact our sister?” asked Raif. “Surely Kallie knows the arcanists in Duke Eeron’s employ? Even if she can’t match Zaine’s description to the man, she’ll have their names and will know where their chambers are. That’s a start, isn’t it?”

  Rew shook his head. “It’s too dangerous. Remember, we agreed we won’t contact her until your father is freed, and then everyone can flee together. If he’s interested in the two of you, then Duke Eeron will also be interested in Kallie. It’s inconceivable he left her unwatched, and he’ll have people reading every word of correspondence she receives. Think about it. Your sister is the first place Duke Eeron would expect you to go, which means she needs to be the last stop before we run.”

  “Aye, but what if we can’t free Father?” questioned Raif. “With Kallie, at least—“

  “It’s too risky,” declared Rew. “Surprise is the only advantage we have, lad, and we’ll lose it the moment we speak to your sister.”

  “Is it riskier than Cinda raising bodies in the crypt?” barked Anne. “Harnessing necromantic power is dangerous, Rew, particularly without adequate training and in a stressful situation. You know that.”

  Rew crossed his arms and sat back, glaring at his bowl of noodles and vegetables. Under his breath, he muttered, “I could use an ale.”

  “No,” said Anne.

  Rew rubbed his face with both hands.

  “Anything we try will be dangerous,” added Anne. “Unless you have a better plan, Rew, then we’re foolish to ignore the one ally we might have inside of the keep. She’ll be watched, true, and any post we send her could be intercepted, but what if we find a way to contact her quietly or use some sort of code?”

  Sighing, Rew sat forward and turned to the nobles. “How do we get in touch with Kallie, then?”

  “That I don’t know,” admitted Raif. “It’s been three years since we passed through Spinesend and saw her last. I recall which wing of the keep she had a room in but not the actual room, and there’s no telling if that’s still where she stays.”

  “I like the idea of a code,” suggested Zaine. “We could send it to her in a letter. Even if it’s intercepted, it won’t do our enemies any good.”

  “What sort of code?” asked Cinda.

  Zaine shrugged. “She’s your sister.”

  “I’ve only spent a few hours with her in the last several years,” reminded Cinda. “I was thirteen winters when we came through Spinesend and visited her. She’d been fostered here for years before that. We’re sisters, true, but…”

  Zaine frowned. “No code then. Maybe a straightforward message?”

  “We’ve much to explain to her,” replied Cinda. “She knows nothing about Father’s capture and nothing about the people who’ve been plotting against our family behind her back. She’s in a nest of vipers and doesn’t know it. I think it’s something we need to talk to her face to face about. If we did sneak her a letter, how would she even know it was really from us?”

  “It’s obvious we’ve got to get to her in person, but the problem is most of us could be recognized in the keep,” mused Raif. “If they’re watching her at all, they’ll be watching for Cinda and I. We’re putting a lot of faith in the Blessed Mother’s luck that we won’t run into someone who knows us.”

  “I could go,” offered Zaine. “Even if Duke Eeron’s people see me, they won’t know who I am. We could hide in plain sight.”

  Four pairs of eyes turned to her.

  “What?” she asked. “I’ve never even been inside of the keep, never met your sister before in my life. Duke Eeron and his minions will have no idea who I am.”

  “Alsayer would,” argued Rew.

  The thief shrugged. “The spellcaster must have better things to do than watch over Kallie Fedgley all day and all night. How much would he share with his spies? Would he have explained that they should look out for me as well? It’s quite possible he thinks I’m dead, killed when Balzac captured me.”

  “I could go with her,” said Anne.

  Zaine shook her head. “I’ve spent years training to sneak in and out of places. It’s what I do.”

  “I should come with you, then,” said Rew.

  Zaine rolled her eyes. “No offense, Ranger, but you’ve spent more time in Duke Eeron’s keep than the rest of us combined. You may not want to admit it, but you are rather famous in the Eastern Territory. If anyone is recognized by the guards, it’ll be you. No, no one will suspect me of anything as long as I keep my head down. Think about it. They have no reason to stop me, and even if the duke himself stared into my eyes, he’d have no idea that I was involved with the rest of you.”

  “Anne then,” murmured Rew. “She’ll go with you.”

  “What if I need to do a bit of serious skulking?” asked Zaine. She turned to Anne. “I don’t mean to be rude, but if I need to scale a wall, move silently down a hallway…”

  “I hate to agree to this,” responded Anne, looking to Rew, “but she’s right. There’s no reason anyone should be suspicious of her, so she’s in little danger compared to you and the nobles. If she finds something she needs to investigate stealthily… I think she should go alone.”

  Rew looked around the group, feeling his heart thumping at the idea of sending Zaine in without the rest of them, but what other choice did they have? It’d been his idea, but Cinda providing some excessi
ve display to draw out the arcanists wasn’t any safer. A message to Kallie Fedgley stood as much chance of getting intercepted as not, and they’d have no way of knowing until it was too late. There could be hundreds of people inside of the keep who would recognize the King’s Ranger. If Alsayer, Vyar Grund, or others had left descriptions with spies, they’d have the most difficult time describing Zaine. Vyar Grund hadn’t even seen the girl without Rew’s sword in his face, and Zaine was right. Alsayer could very well believe that Zaine had been killed in Falvar by the thief Balzac.

  “This is dangerous,” said Rew, studying Zaine.

  “I know,” she said.

  Cinda reached over and clasped the thief’s hand.

  “I hate it, but it’s the only sensible solution,” said Anne. “No one wants to protect these children more than I, but Zaine is right. This is what she does.”

  Rew, cursing himself for it, relented without comment.

  19

  Anne’s herbalist friend was more than she seemed and, it turned out, more helpful than any except Anne had anticipated. They’d laid out their plans in her hearing, and when they’d finally settled on sending Zaine into the keep, the woman had broken her silence and spoken. She’d disregarded Rew’s plan of Zaine climbing up the walls of the place and instead suggested they use a simple disguise.

  “There are hundreds of staff who move in and out of Duke Eeron’s keep every day,” said the woman. “Some of them live there, but most live in the city with their families or in boarding houses supported by the duke’s coffers. Several times a day, there are streams of men and women who come and go from the main gate. If the guards aren’t instructed to look for her, the easiest thing is to just walk right in.”