The gatekeeper greeted him warmly as he opened the heavy front gate. The fourteen horses streamed through the gate, followed by the wagon. They were halfway along the lane toward one of the barns, when an older man and woman—whom Thimeon guessed to be Jhaban’s parents—came running out of the house. The lieutenant was off his horse in an instant and met the couple with a hearty embrace. To Thimeon’s surprise, Jhaban’s father yelled with some urgency to the gatekeeper to shut the gate and lock it while his mother called out for other servants to take care of the horses and wagon and move them into the stable out back. Then they rushed Jhaban’s company into the houses, looking over their shoulders along the way as if they feared people watching.
A minute later they were gathered in the front room of the estate house. It was as spacious as the hall in Corandra and Jhonna’s house and gave evidence of just as much wealth, though the style of the furniture and decorations was more eclectic. Thimeon recognized wooden furniture in the ornamental style of Citadel, a mosaic of colored stones that might have come from Harrath on the Anghata coast, and even a tapestry in the Ceadani tradition. Several large oil paintings of ships and seascapes adorned the walls. From his earlier visit, Thimeon recognized them as the unique style of the artists of Kreana. He had little time to enjoy the art, however, for the moment the front door shut, Jhaban’s mother blurted out, “We thought you might be dead!”
Jhaban’s father then took his wife’s hand and turned her toward Dhan. She blushed when she recognized the prince, and both of them bowed. “They were right,” Jhaban’s father said when he had straightened. “The exact number of the company. The number of men and women—”
“Who?” Jhaban demanded sharply. “Who was right?”
“Soldiers. They rode hard into Kreana yesterday. They came here first, looking for you. When they didn’t find you, they went asking all around the city. They said there were fourteen of you and they mentioned several names including the prince, a duke Armas—”
“That’s me,” said the duke with a smile. “Nice to know I’m missed.”
“And several officers, as well as three young women,” Jhaban’s father finished, looking at Gylden-Jhonna.
“They didn’t tell me how beautiful you were, though,” Jhaban’s mother said with a twinkle in her eye as she looked at each of the three women in turn.
“Did they say we were outlaws?” Jhaban asked. A hint of a grin crept up one cheek. “Escapees from the prison?”
His father shook his head grimly. “No. They just said they were looking for you and that it was important. At first they acted friendly. But later in the day they returned and made threats. Last night they left. I heard from others that they continued north up the trade road.”
“Are you in trouble?” Jhaban’s mother asked. Thimeon looked at her more closely now. She was tall—as tall as her husband and nearly as tall as Jhaban—with gray-green eyes and soft round cheeks. Though her skin had a few wrinkles and her hair was streaked with lustrous silver, she was still fit.
“You might say that.” Jhaban laughed. “But whatever trouble I’m in, I share with the prince.”
“We’ll give you whatever help you need,” his mother replied. “And you too,” she said to the prince. “And all of you. But I wish I knew what was happening.”
“You can start by feeding us,” Jhaban answered. “I know you taught me not to eat and talk, but if we can tell a story over a meal, you’ll soon know nearly as much as we do.”
Several minutes later, the company sat in a large room next to the kitchen, eating a meal of fish chowder, egg biscuits, and tea and telling their stories to Jhaban’s parents. Thimeon soon learned that Jhaban’s father, Luban, was a successful merchant, wealthier even than Lluanthro, who was by no means poor. He owned a small fleet of ships and a large warehouse across the bay. Jhaban’s mother was named Adellania, though Luban called her Dellia. She helped run the business. She kept the books for Luban while also managing a small business she’d taken over from her own parents: a metalworks down on the dock that made iron parts for ships and also for warehouses and the busy docking businesses. Between them, they had several contacts in Citadel and elsewhere from whom they gathered information
As it turned out, Luban’s buyers in Citadel had even purchased from Lluanthro on occasion, and thus they knew of each other by name though not personally. Luban also knew Jhon Symonson, though he had never met his daughters. Thus much of what Luban now heard from his son, especially with regard to the king’s policies and the unrest in Citadel, he seemed already to know or to have very nearly guessed from other sources. But of his own son’s imprisonment, he had heard nothing. As for the Daegmons, though they had not yet troubled the city of Kreana, he had heard of their attacks in the north. Trade had been disrupted for many months.
“One thing is certain,” Luban told his son when Thimeon and the others had finished their tale. “Somewhere there is a traitor to your cause. Somebody close to you is also close to the king.”
Several of them cast sidelong glances at Dhan, whose face had turned a darker shade of red. “Why do you say that?” the prince asked defensively.
“How else would the search party know the exact number of your company?” Luban replied.
“I don’t like it,” Jhaban said, banging an ale mug on the table. “I don’t like that they know so much about us, and though I’m willing to face the danger myself, I don’t like that the knowledge has put my family in danger. How did they know?”
Several voices broke in, but the duke’s booming voice, while calm, spoke loudest. “Listen to your father, Jhaban. I think he must be right. One of us is not trustworthy.”
“But which of us would betray the others?” Jhaban said. “I’d vouch for all of you.”
“Who is closest to the king?” Luban asked again. “Who has the most reason?”
Again Thimeon saw several sidelong glances at the prince, who remained red in the cheeks but did not say anything. As troubling as the news was—as much as the evidence did suggest a traitor among them—Thimeon was sure it was not the prince. And he had perhaps the best reason of any of them to know that. “The prince helped my company escape from the dungeons several days ago,” he told the others. “He saved us from execution. I do not have the slightest doubt in him.”
“I don’t doubt him either,” Siyen said. “Though he must acknowledge that we had actually escaped largely by ourselves earlier.”
“He had plenty of opportunities to turn us in,” Thimeon said. “And we must not forget that he was in prison too. That wasn’t faked.”
“That is true,” Lyn said, “But what better way to regain his father’s good favor now than to turn in the other escapees?”
Several of the officers turned angrily on Lyn. “You’d just as soon accuse me as accuse the prince,” Jhaban said.
“Well.” Lyn asked again. “Why not question you too? I’m not saying the prince turned us in. But aren’t we all suspect?”
“I don’t think any of us who were in prison are suspect at all,” the duke replied in a calm voice. As he spoke, he glanced from Lyn to Kayam to Siyen. All three of them looked uncomfortable.
“If you include all of those who weren’t in prison,” Lyn pressed, “you had better include Thimeon and the merchants also. They didn’t help with the escape.”
Thimeon bit his lip, and his heart sink—not because his own name was mentioned, but because of the distrust now being sowed among them. And he knew how quickly that could destroy this fledgling company. Yet even as he pondered what he might say to rebuild their trust in one another, he realized he wasn’t sure himself whether they were all worthy of trust. Maybe there was a traitor among them.
Lluanthro spoke next. “I’m not sure we need to be suspicious of anybody.”
“Did you not hear what our host told us?” Rhaan asked.
“I heard,”
Lluanthro said. “I also know there are other ways of gathering information. I know where I can go in Citadel to get important news when I need it. There is enough information available to those who keep their eyes open. What one person learns, another can buy. There are some in Citadel who make a living collecting and selling information.”
“But all the details—” the duke started.
“Like the number of escapees from the dungeons?” Lluanthro replied. “That would have been an easy starting point for our enemies. The king and his trusted counselors, including Koranth, would know who was locked up. As for the rest of us,” he said with a shrug, “we left our trails. If any of the prisoners were recognized leaving the city, it wouldn’t take long to fit the rest of the pieces together. The girls were buying merchandise. I stayed at an inn. We all left the city together. Surely somebody saw us.”
Thimeon pondered this a moment. Lluanthro was right, he thought. That could explain it. But the presence of a traitor among them would also explain this.
Then Corandra said, rather sheepishly, “I’m sure there have been spies watching our house. I thought you would have guessed that when you heard my story, or I would have said something. I’m sure some in Citadel knew that Golach was after my parents and would have been happy to sell him information. Those who don’t like my family or who would sell anything for money. We were cautious for a while. But when I heard Golach had left the city, I grew less worried about being followed and more worried about my parents. I took more chances, and nothing bad seemed to happen. Still, if spies were watching our house, somebody would have seen us depart and been able to count the number. It wouldn’t have been difficult to guess that the prince and duke were hiding somewhere.”
Lluanthro nodded. “There is no reason we need to stop trusting one another,” he said.
Rhaan leaned back and rubbed his chin. “What he says is true, I guess. I am a scout. I was trained first to read tracks on the ground, under a river, through grass, and over rocks if I need to. But we were also trained to go into a town and get information in other ways.”
Nobody answered, and another uncomfortable silence followed before Jhaban spoke. “Will we be safe here tonight?”
“Probably,” Luban said. “I don’t think the search party would risk attacking this house—not unless a larger armed company arrives from Citadel. But you have little chance of escaping unnoticed if you leave the way you came. You would have done better to come into the village at night and make your way to our home by a back way to attract less attention. The soldiers won’t have to go very far north before they realize you haven’t passed that way. Then they’ll come back. If they have any sense, they’ll wait for you in the hills just east of the city. Or wait for more soldiers to arrive at Citadel and take you here. This is a house and not a fort. We can’t fight an army.”
“You say ‘if we leave the way we came’?” Duke Armas wondered aloud. “How would you have us leave?”
“By ship,” Luban replied, as though the answer was obvious. “I have two fast vessels waiting in the harbor right now. They’re bound for the Northland mining port of Harrath. It’s six days or more by road but only three by ship with the prevailing autumn winds blowing from the south hard up the coast. Even with the head start the soldiers have, if you boarded those ships tomorrow morning, you’d arrive in Harrath at least two days before them. Or you could be let off on shore in any of a dozen bays between here and there.”
Several others at once nodded or murmured their assent. But Thimeon was not convinced. He thought not only of escape. He thought also of the sword they now possessed. And the knowledge of the stone. And the book he had still not had the chance to study. He needed to bring all that to the aid of those resisting the Daegmons.
When Luban finished and the others responded, he listened quietly at first. Jhaban supported his father’s plan the most vocally, and all the officers as well as the duke agreed. Though Jhonna didn’t say anything, her eyes showed her excitement when her older sister also spoke in favor of the sea voyage. Rammas, more used to wagons than horseback, said he’d had enough of saddles for a few days. Lluanthro told him to keep quiet, but then he mentioned he wouldn’t mind a sea voyage.
Kayam was one of the few against the plan. “I’ve probably already made the dumbest mistake of my life coming with you on this fool of a mission. So if the prince goes by sea, I’ll follow. But I’d just as soon face the Daegmon alone and with my bare hands as go out on those waves in a pile of floating logs.”
Lyn also voted with the minority, but he gave no reasons.
Finally Thimeon spoke his heart. “I know we must escape from those pursuing us. But our path ought to be inland into the mountains. We must find Cane and Cathros and join in the battle against the Daegmons. Nothing else matters. Going to the Northland is another delay we cannot afford.”
“But we don’t even know where your companions are,” Armas pointed out. “How on earth will you find them in all the mountainous wilds of northern Gondisle? We’ll have better luck just finding the Daegmon ourselves and giving it battle.”
Armas had a good argument, Thimeon knew. Yet he knew something else. “Without the gifted, we have no chance.” he replied. “Swords and spears will not avail against this enemy. They may be part of the battle, but we need other powers as well. We need to find those who have the power to fight the Daegmons. As to how we find them? I know it makes no sense, but I believe we are supposed to look for them anyway. I believe we will find them.”
His words sounded empty even as he spoke them. Why would the others believe him? Why would he believe himself? It was nothing more than a feeling. And it was a feeling plagued by doubt.
“If the king’s men catch us, then your precious talisman is also lost,” Jhaban pointed out.
To that, Thimeon had no answer. He looked at the prince, who seemed to take the look as a concession. “We will go by sea,” he said. He met Thimeon’s gaze. “I owe you much. And I trust you. If you tell me, with certainly, that we must go another way, then I will yield to your leading. But until then, I will choose the path that seems the safest—not only for me but for all of those here. And for the talismans that Borodruin entrusted to me. And that path leads us to Harrath, taking the opportunity our hosts graciously offered. From there, if you will, we can follow the road to Anghata, and then turn westward across the desert into the mountains via the northern pass.”
Thimeon did not gainsay the decision. What could he tell them with any certainty? That he had a feeling? He wondered if this was how Elynna felt all those days she led them by a sense that only she had.
By the time the decision was made, the day was nearly done. That evening they ate a meal of fresh fish brought into Kreana by the trawlers that morning. Good Northland wine from the family’s cellars accompanied the food.
After the meal, Jhaban said rather wistfully, “I only wish I could take you for a stroll on the docks. Right on the water, there’s a great tavern with some of the best—”
“Not you, my son,” Luban hastily interrupted. “You’d be recognized at once, and they’ve been asking all around the city for you.”
“I know that all too well,” Jhaban replied. “It was wishful thinking and not a real suggestion. There is too much at stake, and the risk is too great—not just for us but, I fear, for you as well. I can’t risk being seen. Tonight, I’m a prisoner in my own house.”
Prince Dhan put a hand on his shoulder. “If it’s any consolation, you aren’t alone. In this city, I may not be as well known as you are, but I’ve been here often enough that the risk is still too high. Same with the duke, I’m afraid, however tempting that tavern is. Indeed, the risk is so high I would demand that all of us remain indoors and out of sight for the evening, except one thing: it may indeed prove useful if some of us went quietly into the city and gathered what information we could. How many soldiers were here? Do we know the
names of any of the scouts? Are we sure they left? Are the ports being watched? It would be arrogant foolishness to take risks for the sake of a pint of ale, no matter how good the ale. But we know already that information can sometimes be found in places like The Dagger’s Water. And that information may be worth some risk.”
“I don’t think my sister will be going, though she has never been to this city before,” Corandra said in a quiet voice. Jhonna had fallen asleep on a chair in a corner.
Jhaban rose, took a blanket from off a shelf in the corner, and put it tenderly over her. Then he returned to his seat and plopped down with a sigh. “I sure had been looking forward to some good Kreana ale.”
“Plenty in the cellar,” Luban said. “You know where to find it.”
“And though I know we don’t have the same ambience as your favorite taverns in town,” added Dellia, who had come to stand at the door, “it has been some time since we’ve seen you.”
Jhaban blushed. “I’m sorry, Mother. I was only thinking of our guests.”
Dellia smiled, and Luban put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “It is a great sacrifice you are willing to make for them, to take them down to the taverns while your heart aches to be here with your mother and me, but I’m afraid it’ll have to wait until the next time you are back home.”
Thimeon rose to his feet. The decision to travel by boat had left him ill at ease with a sudden restlessness. “I think I will have a pint in your name. The prince is right. I would like to gather some information. This is a busy port town. One more stranger will not attract notice. And my face is not known in Kreana, nor even among the soldiers of Citadel except perhaps for a few of Golach’s men.”
A short time later, he departed the house through a side door out into a back alley. Lluanthro, who was practiced at gathering useful information in pubs and inns, went with him, along with Corandra, who said she needed to stretch her legs and think. Siyen and Kayam also donned their woolen cloaks, saying they would give Thimeon’s party a few minutes’ head start and then follow them into the city to do their own information gathering. Luban gave to all of them enough coins to buy a pint or two of ale and a bit of information.
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