Cane led the way westward down across the burned swath of land toward the distant woodland. The going was steep and difficult in places, but they made it to the trees before dark.
“We should stop for the night,” Elynna said when they had come under the canopy of the woods. She did not explain why. The pain of their enemy’s presence was an increasing burden, and she could not escape it. When she was moving toward it, the pain intensified. It was like walking into an icy wind. Stopping did not end the pain, but at least it lessened it.
“What?” Cane barked angrily. “We have an hour of light at least. We have suffered too many delays already.”
A tense argument broke out . The Anghare took Cane’s side, and to Elynna’s surprise so did Nahoon and Beth, saying that waiting now would serve no purpose. The sooner they faced the Daegmon, the sooner they could return home. Or continue in pursuit of the other Daegmons if there were more. Go to Cathwain’s aid if it was not too late. But Marti’s eyes rested on his little brother, who now looked especially tired and frail, and he pleaded that they stop and rest. At this, Hrevia switched sides and took up the case for bivouacking where they were, and soon she was yelling at her own brother.
“Let him stay behind with his brother,” Hruach shot back. “We are likely going into battle anyway.”
Keet’s face grew even whiter. Marti turned as if about to yell at everybody. But either he was too angry to speak or in too much turmoil himself, and no words came out of his mouth. Beth came to his aid. “We will not leave anybody behind. I think we should go on, but only all together.”
“Would you rather bring him into battle than leave him behind?” Cathros replied. His voice was calmer than some of the others, but the words struck home with Elynna. Her painful awareness of their enemy had so drained her, she had given little thought as to what form the battle itself might take and the reality that Keet was still with them. They were bringing him straight to the enemy. And yet what choice did they have?
She looked at the stony features of the tall Amanti, who stood a few steps away. Did he even understand the argument? What did he think?
“I cannot go any further,” she finally said. A few heard her and broke off their arguing, but others kept on. She repeated herself more loudly. Now all her companions looked at her, some with expressions of concern and others of frustration. “The pressure. And pain,” she explained. “It is too intense. We are so close to our enemy. I need to rest.” She said it with as much conviction as she could. And it was true. But it was also true that she needed time to think. There was nowhere safe they could send Keet. When they got close to their enemy, they would have to find a place for him to hide. And maybe Marti with him. Or perhaps Namha, so that she was not responsible for leading the last of the Amanti to his death.
“There are some fallen trees over there,” Bandor said, pointing off into the woods toward two large fallen firs. “They would make a good shelter. And the limbs will burn nicely.”
Whether it was Elynna’s words, or Bandor’s observation, or simply the fact that while they had argued the sky had grown even darker, the argument ceased. A short time later, the company bivouacked around the pair of fallen trees. The canopy overhead was thick, and the ground had only a thin layer of snow. Soon they had a fire going and were roasting venison and bird.
Tienna and Hrevia disappeared in search of water and returned in a short time with three flasks filled from a nearby stream. All sense of the Daegmon faded to a dull ache after they stopped moving, and Elynna was soon as comfortable as could be expected on the cold, hard ground. After sating her appetite, she drifted off into a sound night’s sleep.
30
A SHORT REST AND A DIFFICULT CHOICE
As Jhonna had promised, he found a small window of tinted glass at the top of the landing. How it was that the glass allowed people to look out but not in, Thimeon did not know. Glass of any sort was rare in the Andani highlands, even in the larger towns like Aeti. But he sat down in front of the window and chose to accept Jhonna’s word.
He looked out over a gate in a tall stone wall onto a narrow road almost below him. It was quieter than the main thoroughfare paralleling the great wall of Citadel. Large walled estates lined both sides of the road, abutting one another, but there were no merchants or businesses to be seen. No soldiers either. That was good.
Pressing his face against the glass and looking to his right, he caught a glimpse of the high wall of Citadel towering over the houses further down. But it was too far away for somebody atop the walls to look into the street and identify a face. That gave him a sense of relief. He had to be more concerned with folks moving along the street. And for several minutes he saw nobody at all.
After a few minutes, he took a seat on the small cushioned chair beside the window and chewed his food while keeping an eye on the road. There he remained for half an hour. An occasional passerby wandered along the hard-packed dirt on foot, or horseback, or in a wagon. But nothing caught his attention.
Eventually Jhaban came up to relieve him, and Thimeon returned downstairs. His new companions had left the pantry. He grabbed a peach off the counter and another half loaf of flatbread from the cutting board and went back to the large outer room where he found them sprawled out on the floor, resting.
“Is Jhonna back?” he asked. The answer was no.
Fatigue from the previous night was catching up with him, but while Jhonna was gone, he was too nervous to sleep. He was about to return back upstairs to keep watch out the window, when he remembered the sword and book Borodruin had given to the prince. In the desperation of their escape, he had nearly forgotten about them. The prince had kept the sword. It was outside drying with the rest of the gear. But the book! That was what he had come to Citadel for in the first place.
He had a sudden fear that it might not have survived the underwater journey. He found the leather bags in which he had wrapped the book and opened them up. The outermost bag had leaked, but the second bag had somehow kept its contents dry even underwater. When he opened the innermost bag, to his relief he found that the ancient book was still dry.
His heart beat faster with anticipation, but just as he was about to open it, he heard Jhaban’s warning from upstairs. “Somebody at the gate!” A moment later he called out again. “It’s the girl. She’s back. Alone.”
Alone? Which girl? Had Corandra failed to find Lluanthro? Thimeon set the book down and went to the side door. He breathed a sigh of relief when Jhonna entered the room carrying several parcels. She set them down in the corner and turned to Thimeon.
“You look well,” she said. Despite all her family had endured, and the danger she was in now, she had a soft smile and a contagious sparkle in her eyes. “Not like a wet dog anymore.”
Thimeon almost laughed. She was, indeed, strikingly beautiful. But her teasing smile made him think again of his own younger sister, Siarah. She used to call him a wet gyurt. Siarah and Jhonna were about the same age, he guessed. Where was Siarah now? Was she still safe with their uncle? Would he recognize her when he returned home? Would she recognize him? What if he never returned home?
“Athgod will be back soon too,” Jhonna announced a moment later. She didn’t say where he had gone. Before Thimeon could ask, she disappeared into another room. She came back carrying a roll of parchments. “I remembered these while I was out. They might be helpful. My uncle had them made for my father.” She laid the parchments out on the table and unrolled them, revealing several maps.
Thimeon’s attention was riveted. He had always loved maps. Well-made maps were as rare among the Andani as smooth glass, but his father had collected them, and from a young age Thimeon had learned to read them and study them. If he could look at a map for even a small amount of time, he could keep a clear picture of it in his head. The top map was of Citadel and the surrounding area, which was just what he wanted to see right now.
H
e was not the only one. When they realized what Jhonna had brought, Prince Dhan and Armas joined him at the table. Kachtin, Banthros, Rhaan, Siyen, and Kayam soon gathered around also—everybody but Jhaban, who remained at his post at the window.
Jhonna looked pleased to have done something useful. “This is where we are,” she said, pointing to a spot on the map outside the walls of Citadel near the southeast corner.
Thimeon looked closely. He found the line representing the major road that ran north and south along the western wall of Citadel, and the curvier line of Rain Creek coming off the right edge of the map, through a lake, and right up to the line marking the wall around the city. There it disappeared. Jhonna’s home was south of the Rain, outside the side wall but inside the perimeter of the road.
Armas was apparently observing the same thing as Thimeon. “If only the tunnel had brought us another hundred yards east.” He sighed. “We could avoid crossing the road. All the roads are sure to be guarded.”
“We’d need to have gone a lot further than that to be safe,” Dhan answered. “I won’t feel safe until we are many days from here.”
“Even then I won’t feel safe,” Thimeon said. “Not until the Daegmons are defeated and Golach is out of power.”
“And my father,” Dhan added somewhat bitterly. “And Koranth.”
They were silent for a moment. Then Kachtin spoke. “They will expect us to go north or west. Running and hiding in the Plains or highlands.” He looked at Thimeon. “That is where your people escaped to last time. The Plains. I was part of that pursuit before I was put into prison for my loyalty to the prince. Koranth has guessed that the prince aided in the last escape. I think he will expect him to go the same way again.”
“There is more to it than that,” Rhaan added. “I am from the Plains. Koranth and Golach have something going on up near Hilt and the eastern pass. Five or six days ago Citadel’s armies started amassing there. It was very secretive. I tried to send a word of warning to my people, but I got caught. That’s why I was imprisoned. Whatever is going on there, they were trying to prevent the prince from interfering. The roads north and west will be guarded against us. And even if they are not, they will be swarming with Koranth’s men.”
Thimeon nodded. The two officers were probably right. He did not gainsay them. And he did not say what was running through his own thoughts. That his eyes were indeed drawn northwestward on the map. That his former companions were there. In the Plains and likely on their way into the Undeani mountains. He also did not tell them that he needed to go there also. To bring the sword where it would be of use. To bring to Elynna and the others whatever knowledge they might gain from the book he now possessed. Maybe especially to bring Borodruin’s warnings about the stone he called the Henetos—a warning that still echoed in Thimeon’s ear: “It must not be worn by one of the gifted.”
Nor did he mention his desire to be with Tienna.
He realized how much he missed her, and how eager he was to see her. This last desire kept him silent. He could not risk endangering the lives of everybody with him for a selfish desire, no matter how reasoned his other desires were. All-Maker, give me wisdom, he prayed silently.
A moment later Dhan spoke. “I agree. The bridge across the Dagger will be watched. Maybe not openly by soldiers, but the king will have spies all around it. Spies who know our faces. Maybe it would be safe for Thimeon and Siyen and Kayam but not for any of the rest of us. If we want to go west, we’ll have to travel a long way downriver to find an unguarded way across. The road north will also be guarded.”
Banthros agreed. “There is one thing we can be thankful for. Golach, along with many of Citadel’s other captains and their companies, are gone. There are fewer resources to hunt for us now. They will have some spies looking for us everywhere, I’m sure. But it is almost certain that most of those resources will be devoted to the bridge and the north road. I think our surest hope of escape is to the south. Or maybe to the east.”
“If we can make our way east, Jhaban has a home in Kreana. And ships too,” Kachtin said.
“Whichever way we go, we still need to get away from the city,” Dhan said. “That will be no easy task.”
Several nodded in agreement, and their attention turned again to the map and the more immediate question of the various ways around the crowded region outside the city. Jhonna proved the most helpful, for her family had many friends in the area, and she spent considerable time moving around outside the walls of the city—and very little time inside the gates. She also had a good sense of the rhythms of the area—which streets were more crowded at what times, who traveled where, places soldiers were most often seen, and even places folks traveled when they didn’t want to be seen. She described in detail various smaller roads that crossed or ran parallel to the main byways and who lived on them, and what sorts of travelers would or would not attract attention on them. “A large family, or a family with a large retinue, traveling down some of these roads at night would attract almost no attention.”
Eventually Thimeon’s fatigue caught up with him. He had not rested for many hours. Whatever course they chose, they would travel much of the night. He didn’t know when he would next have a chance to rest. Choosing to let go of all his fears and to put the decision in the hands of others, he left the maps on the table, stretched himself out on a heavy woolen rug, and closed his eyes. Just for a quick rest, he thought. And then he fell asleep.
Sometime later he awoke from a sound sleep with Armas shaking him. Startled, he jumped to his feet, not knowing how long he had slept or whether something was amiss. “No alarm,” the duke said in a calming voice. “But I thought you should know. Corandra is returning. She just came through the gate on a wagon. Two men are with her. I don’t know who they are. They might be your friends.”
Thimeon nodded and looked around, still not knowing what time of day it was. Several others were getting up around him—some on their own and some with help from the duke’s insistent shaking. Maps still rested on the table, but nobody was looking at them now.
Jhonna stood beside him. She put a hand on his shoulder. “This way,” she said. Thimeon turned and followed her out of the room to a side door leading to the courtyard. But Jhonna did not open the door. Instead she nodded to the curtained window behind it. “I don’t know who the men are,” she said, echoing what the duke had announced. “Corandra does not appear to be in any trouble, but you might want to be sure these are the men you expected.”
“Thank you,” Thimeon replied, knowing that she was right, that he could not be too cautious. He pulled it back an inch and peeked through the glass from behind the curtain. To his relief, Lluanthro and Rammas sat on a partly loaded wagon pulled by a pair of horses. Three more horses were tethered behind the wagon. Behind that, Corandra was just shutting and bolting a heavy gate.
He looked at the sky. It was already late afternoon. He must have slept for a couple hours. Longer than he had intended.
By the time Corandra and the merchants had entered the house, the whole company was awake and moving. Thimeon made quick introductions. Lluanthro showed no hesitancy accepting the prince or any of his men. He offered his service to them all. Thimeon then pressed Corandra and Lluanthro for news: any knowledge or even wild rumors about Citadel and especially in the palace. Anything that would help them plan the next stage in their escape. Anything that might justify attempting a journey to the north or west.
Lluanthro and Corandra glanced at each other briefly, and then Lluanthro spoke. After he and Lyn met Corandra and became convinced it wasn’t a trap, he agreed to accompany her back through the gates into the city to do some scouting while Rammas and Lyn went in search of additional supplies. “Though she didn’t tell me who you all were, and she never mentioned the prince, Corandra did say that Thimeon was helping prisoners escape, and that he needed me. When she explained that, we both thought it would be useful if you
knew who was searching for you, or even what descriptions were circulating.”
“I also wanted to see if I could get any news about my father and mother,” Corandra admitted.
Lluanthro sighed. “Yes. I know Symon’s son. He is a good man, and I’d like to help him and Maryl also. As long as we were gathering information, it made sense to do both at the same time. Lyn took a bit more convincing. He did not seem happy to hear you had failed to steal treasure, but he said he would help us anyway. I don’t know how much he really wants to help, but I think he suspects you succeeded in stealing something and are trying to keep him from his share. So he won’t let Rammas out of his sight. At least not until he can talk with Siyen and be convinced he isn’t being cheated.”
“It is no loss if he doesn’t come,” Thimeon said. “As long as he doesn’t spill secrets. The less he knows, the better.”
“He has too many of his own secrets to risk talking to anybody about ours,” Siyen piped in. “That’s why I worked with him.”
“That was my impression from a few minutes with him,” Lluanthro added. Then he continued his tale. He and Corandra had gone close enough to the palace to notice turmoil at the gates but hadn’t wanted to bring attention to themselves, especially since some of the officers knew Corandra. So they kept their distance, and learned nothing of any value there. Coming back through the city, however, they stopped at the Dagger’s Water. There they heard two things. First rumors circulated that the prince had been killed—either executed by the king or killed trying to escape. “I knew that wasn’t true,” Corandra said with a smile. “And I whispered that to Lluanthro. So we kept asking around, looking for somebody with more knowledge.”
The Betrayed Page 30