Gita took his new look in stride, and every evening was full of news about how the production was coming together. Every evening, she exacted the promise that he would be there for her debut. Every evening he reminded her it would be dangerous for him to be there and promised anyway.
The day before Gita’s debut, it seemed like every conversation he heard in the streets was about the Loremaster expelled from the guild. Everyone heard something different about why, but on that one fact at least they agreed. He needed to talk to Jaleh, but there was no telling where she’d be if it just happened today. He would go tomorrow.
He spent that night preparing. Going to see Jaleh was probably the riskiest thing he could do, but it was his information she had acted on, and therefore he bore some responsibility. For Javed, he wrote:
If you are reading this, it means that the trouble has finally caught up to me and I am either fled, imprisoned, or dead. Please care for the girl as though she were your own. She likely won’t take it well, I warn you. In all the time I’ve known her, she has been terrified of being left behind. I wish it had not come to this, but I cannot protect her now. Tell her the truth – it will go better. The greatest part of my coin is under the loose tile in this room. My thanks for all you’ve done – B.
For Gita, he wasted page after page and found he could write nothing that would soften the blow. Perhaps Javed could be a better foster-father than he was. And, maybe he’d be wrong. Maybe the risk was all in his head. The note to Javed would have to do; he blew out the lamp and went to sleep.
The next morning he went out into the crowds as he had been, only he had a destination in mind for the afternoon. He wended with the crowd as much as he could, but there were very few crowds in the wealthy areas of Vidyavana. He couldn’t bring himself to turn back, though, so on he went.
The sun was touching the tops of the tallest domes in the city when he arrived at what he was sure must be the place. There was no answer when he knocked; her shutters were drawn, the front door locked. Either she was not home, or she feared further retribution. He walked around into the shadow of the back garden like he belonged there. As soon as he was around the corner he plastered himself against the wall to listen. It was entirely possible he had been tailed here.
There did not seem to be movement from the street; he thought he might hear movement from behind the shutter at his shoulder, however. He pulled away from the wall and pivoted around that shoulder, crouching so only his head would be visible over the sill, and tapped on the shutter.
“Jaleh?” He whispered loudly. The movement he thought he’d heard stopped. “Jaleh? Are you in there? It’s me.” He hoped she recognized his voice that well, anyway.
“Bahadur?” Her voice was as low as his.
“Mmm.”
The shutter opened a crack, and a kafe-colored eye peered out at him. “What are you doing here?”
“Can I come in?”
The eye rolled, and he heard an exasperated noise. “I’m coming to the garden door.”
He was there in time to hear the latch click open, and Jaleh stood on the other side, motioning for him to come in. He had to duck out of the way of the door to keep from being hit as she closed it. She didn’t say anything else, just started down the stairs. Bahadur followed.
She said nothing more until they were closeted away behind the closed door of her study.
“You shouldn’t have come here.”
“You acted on my information.”
“So you think that makes you responsible for my actions?” There was an arch question he’d never expected to hear.
“Not at all. But this is still fruit born of my own panicked response back at the dig, and therefore I do bear some responsibility.”
“I’d have been expelled for quitting that assignment whether or not Scholar Aseem knew you had discovered him. The sponsor behind the request is one of the Guild’s largest donors, and the assignment was of critical importance to him. The Guild could either expel me or forfeit his funding.”
“Nonetheless, I bear some responsibility for the way things stand, and that is why I am here.”
Jaleh threw a hand up in the air and her head back in a gesture he had seen many, many times from his wife, generally when he was being stubborn.
“Scholar Aseem, unless I miss my guess, will want to silence both of us however he can. I am guessing someone implicated you to the Asylum, as well?”
“Yes, of course. That’s why I- eeee!” Jaleh ducked and threw her arms up to protect her face. A dart embedded itself in the wall where her head had been. Bahadur spun into a crouch; their assailant still stood in the doorway. About average height and build, and he could tell nothing else because of how they were clothed. The attacker drew the akinaka at his hip, and Bahadur abruptly realized his own blade was back at Javed’s. Cursing, he lunged for the man’s sword arm and caught the oddly slender wrist in a vice-like grip. The assassin was good, but Bahadur was stronger.
Bahadur saw him raise his left arm to switch the blade to his other hand; for his trouble, Bahadur slammed his forehead into the attacker’s nose. To his credit, he did not immediately drop the sword, even as blood began to flow. Before he could regain his balance, Bahadur kicked him – first in the stomach, so their attacker doubled over, and then swung his leg around to drop his heel into the back of the other man’s neck. The akinaka clattered to the floor a moment before its unconscious wielder. Bahadur rubbed his forehead where it had struck the assassin.
“Do you want me to question him, Scholar?” Of all the tasks he never thought he might need to do again, this was the one he hated.
“No.” She sounded faint. When he looked up, the color had drained from her face.
“Interrogation techniques in Q’uungerab were very mild.”
She shook her head. “No. That will not be necessary. After all, we know who sent him, don’t we?”
“Probably.” Bahadur turned the would-be assassin over onto his back and removed the mask and the akinaka’s scabbard. “Her. We probably know who sent her.” At least he knew he’d never seen the woman’s face before.
“What?”
“They sent a woman. Cowards.” He rolled her back over and used the headscarf to tie her hands to her feet behind her. “Let’s go. That won’t hold her long after she gets her wind back.”
“Where are we going?”
“Away.” He sheathed the blade and strapped it around his own waist. “Most of what I own is either on me or with my horse; we’ll get her and be out of the city before they realize we escaped, with a little luck. What’s the nearest settlement?”
“There’s a kalabazaar a few days’ ride southeast of the city. Seems like the local militia is always trying to round up volunteers to break it up, and always coming up short.”
“Good. Gather what you can. I’ll finish up down here.”
Jaleh began sidling out of the room, staying as far from their assassin as she could.
“Just food, water, and coin.” The woman nodded as she ducked out of the room. Bahadur took his time with the knots; she would break free eventually, tied with cloth as she was, but he couldn’t let it happen too quickly. When he looked up, he saw that the envelope to an unnamed address in Siahanchah was still on the desk.
And what might this be? Jaleh would not likely be back down: he opened the envelope. Inside, he found what could only be a report. The name Sakjhra was in the title, and it was dated from just before he came back.
* * *
“Do you have a mount?”
Jaleh shook her head, her face now covered. “Then you’ll have to purchase one. Amna won’t carry two, and we need to move fast. Follow me.” With luck the stable would have an animal for sale that was better than a two-penny nag. If they were unlucky, that two-penny nag would have to do. Bahadur had resettled the turban and now they made their way through the city streets, keeping to crowded areas as best they could while he led them to the stable where he kept Amna. The cro
wds, however, had begun to disperse. It was the dinner hour, and amber light washed over the buildings. He tried to walk with purpose rather than drawing attention by starting at shadows.
They were being tailed. That much was unmistakable. Scholar Aseem must have ordered the house watched.
“How are you at weaving through a crowd?” He spoke for Jaleh’s ears only.
“Not one of my best skills,” she practically hissed back.
“Try to keep up. If you lose track of me, take the most circuitous route you can and watch for me at the east gate from someplace crowded. Make sure you have a mount.”
“I’ll try.”
Good enough. “Now come on.” Then he was ducking from one group of people to the next, moving always with purpose but never, he hoped, desperately, and inexorably towards the city center. Once, early on as he shouldered into a particularly large group, he grabbed her by the wrist with a murmured apology. This was not his best skill, either, if he was honest; he had more often been the tail than the tailed, but he knew some tricks the other guards sometimes missed. Even still, Jaleh did remarkably well keeping up with him.
He wove through the crowd down so many streets he lost track – the problem with which he realized just as he thought he’d lost the last of them.
“Jaleh? Where are we? …Never mind. Can you get us to Babar’s stables in the southeast?”
“I think so.”
“Do it.” Now to see if he’d actually managed to lose them, and how thoroughly.
Bahadur worried when Jaleh managed to get them all the way to the stable without picking up another tail. Did Scholar Aseem have some sort of contingency plan in place? This was far too easy. Amna was waiting, exactly as expected, with her tack and saddlebag exactly as he’d left them; Jaleh jingled her coin purse, promising the stable hand a nice premium if he fetched a good animal and kept mum about it. Bahadur saddled Amna.
The horse the hand brought out would have been a fine-looking animal five years ago. Even now its swayback was tolerable. Jaleh paid not a penny more than the horse was worth, but gave the boy a gold mark “for his consideration.”
Now that they were on horseback the going was much quicker, but they also stood out from the crowd.
“Keep your eyes open. If they start closing in, we make a break for the gate.”
“Okay.”
The streets between Babar’s and the gate offered little resistance. Most people saw a pair on horseback and cleared the way: Bahadur began to think he might have really lost their pursuers. The light feeling of elation evaporated, though, as they rounded a corner and saw a blockade at the gate. Most of them were in the uniform of the city guard with its blue sigils and gold tassels, but there were others. Some replaced the blue sigils with black and dressed in dark gray linens. Still others were in a motley assortment of armors – a too-tight leather jerkin here, there an oversized helmet – and yet others wore no more than the plain clothes of the citizenry. How many of them had weapons as poor as their armor? Bahadur reined Amna to a stop, facing the blockade, and Jaleh fell in beside. There was no way they had not been seen; the spearmen already had their shafts lowered against a charge.
“I will engage. You just focus on getting out. If I don’t make it through, you have to find some way of stopping them from unleashing those beasts on the world.”
“I suppose there’s no other way, is there?”
“Not that doesn’t involve us surrendering. If we’re lucky they’ll just lock us away, but I don’t think that’s what Scholar Aseem has in mind. Ready, girl?” Amna whickered. Bahadur returned his gaze to the blockade ahead of them and drew his newly acquired akinaka. He dug his heels into Amna’s flank, and as she leapt forward he screamed. As he’d hoped, some of the irregulars scattered just that easily. Some, but not enough.
He aimed for one of the holes created by a fleeing spearman. It was his best hope to survive this even long enough to allow Jaleh to escape. The defenders were too confused to fill the gap quickly. Then Amna was in their midst, striking with hooves and teeth, even as Bahadur was stabbing at weapon hands and arms. The regulars were just following orders. They may not even know where those orders came from, and they almost certainly did not know why. But Bahadur had to get through, and he could not leave Jaleh behind to do so. Spearheads stabbed at him, and it was all he could do to dodge the worst of them. A guardsman tried to hamstring Amna, and was rewarded by a kick full in the belly. Bahadur aimed to disarm and disable; he may have slashed a brow or two, but nothing deadly. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jaleh’s horse picking its way through behind where the guard was distracted by him. Finally. Now he just needed to get through before either he or Amna gave out.
Amna saw the opening before he did. His first warning was feeling the muscles in her sides bunch for a jump, which gave him just barely enough time to grip his knees more tightly. She was already in the air by the time he managed to turn and grab hold of the saddle horn, and the jolt made him groan in pain. He hadn’t had such a rough landing since he was first learning to ride, and maybe not then. Amna did not wait around for him to recover, moving straight from her leap into a gallop after the other horse.
* * *
Amna could have kept running longer than Jaleh’s mount, but there wasn’t enough water to risk it. They slowed to a walk on the downslope of a dune once Bahadur was certain they were not being pursued.
“Are you hurt?”
“No. And the old boy here doesn’t seem any worse off, either.”
“Good.” If they were lucky, the “old boy” was long since gelded. Otherwise this could get tricky. “Let’s go. You said this settlement was how far?”
“About three day’s ride, is what I’ve heard. I’ve never been there, of course.”
“Of course not. But wherever we’re going, we’ll have to start there.” Bahadur was uncomfortably aware of how bright these linens were in the moonlight, but he couldn’t exactly have gone back to Javed’s for his own. He urged Amna to a trot.
“So, what about the girl?”
“…Gita.”
“Yeah.”
“She’ll probably never forgive me. I left Javed a note, explaining things, and most of my coin. If they’re the people I think they are, she’ll at least have a good home. And she’s safe with them. I wonder if I can even protect myself, these days. Having a child in tow?”
“I’m sure she’ll understand someday.”
“Tonight was her debut.”
“Her what?”
“Her first performance. She made me promise to be there.”
“Mountain monkeys, man, are you an idiot? You knew that, and you triggered this today?”
“You really think I could have spent hours in a theater? I did what I could. It’s up to Javed and Sanaz, now. I’m sure they’ll be better foster parents than I was.” There was no reason to shout, he reminded himself. It wasn’t Jaleh he was angry with anyway. “Sorry.” They rode in silence until the moon began its descent back toward the horizon.
“So what now?”
“You mean, after we reach the kalabazaar?”
Jaleh nodded.
“We wait, and while we wait we plan. Once things cool down a little, we go to Siahanchah, or I do, anyway. I don’t intend to let them get away with this. You can do as you please.”
“What’s in Siahanchah?”
“My last lead.”
“Sounds like a good place to start. I expect I’ll go at least that far with you.”
“Your company is welcome, but I can’t promise you security.”
“I’ll take that risk.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Stupid Ravi. Stupid, stupid Ravi. What was he thinking, running away like that, leaving me alone in a cave in the middle of nowhere? Chandi snatched the other torch out of its sconce and half-ran down the corridors she had followed him up. Surely something big must have happened to draw him away, but now she had to find her own way out of here, and in an ea
rthquake, no less!
Chandi stopped abruptly as she found herself faced with the quicksilver lake. She should back up the hallway a little and cover her face like Ravi had said to… but the ground was still trembling, and she had to believe that breathing a little more of the fumes was preferable to being buried alive. There were raised stone bars out there in the quicksilver, but from the landing on this side she didn’t see how she could get to any of them without risking a jump… or trying to slide along the surface like she had before. If she overbalanced after a jump it would be disaster; better to risk just her feet. She gathered herself with a deep breath and tentatively stepped forward with her already-silvered sandal.
It was odd, really. Her foot started to sink, but only as deep as the sole of her sandal. It was like stepping on a sleeping pad, if the pad was slippery like glass and filled with liquid. The shimmery surface vibrated with the rumblings from the earth, but now was no time to marvel. She brought her other foot forward and stood on the surface of the silver lake. Chandi lifted the first foot to take a step and quickly thought better of it as her second foot began to slip. She nearly lost her balance. When she missed the landing earlier, she had slid across the surface. Maybe…
Chandi tried sliding her feet forward, one at a time, as though gliding across a well-polished stage. That worked a little better. Well enough, in fact, that she chose to simply continue across like this rather than try to use the filigree-shaped stone bars. When she reached the other side she pressed the toe of one of her sandals against the landing and carefully lifted the other foot, which came free with a popping sound. She expected the off-balance feeling this time; the foot she was moving came down with a wet slap on the landing even as the one she balanced on tried to slip out from under her. Not her most graceful moment ever, but she was through. Her hands felt shaky again, but there hadn’t been that rush of adrenaline this time. It was time to get out of this room. Chandi stepped back into a jog.
Advent of Ruin (The Qaehl Cycle Book 1) Page 34