The man’s legs buckled and he went down, landing clumsily on one knee and his injured arm. As Eleret stepped forward and pivoted, bringing her leg around for another kick, his weakened arm gave way. Instead of sending him sprawling onto his back, her foot hit high and awkwardly, knocking him forward onto his face with both hands hidden under his body.
Eleret bounced away from the fallen man and skipped back two paces. Her hands were already in her pockets, feeling for her dagger and her raven’s-feet, but it was not necessary. Daner and the guards had their swords out, and their expressions made it clear that the prisoner would not have another chance to attack or escape.
“Eleret! Are you all right?” Daner said.
“Yes,” Eleret replied, slightly puzzled by the evident concern in his voice.
“Neatly done,” Charis said to Eleret. “Where’d you take your training?”
“At home,” Eleret answered. Feeling that something more was called for, she added, “In the mountains.”
Charis shot her a startled glance, but returned her gaze almost immediately to the prisoner lying facedown on the pavement. Daner also looked her way, but his expression was more bemused than surprised.
“Now, you,” Sunnar said. “On your feet, and no more tricks.”
The man did not move. Sunnar exchanged looks with his partner, then stepped closer and nudged the man with his foot. When he still did not respond, the guard motioned to Daner to keep close watch and bent forward. As he seized the man’s shoulder, his expression changed.
“The blasted cod’s-head’s gone and died on us, Charis,” he said in tones of deep disgust.
“How? She took him down nicely, but it didn’t look to me as if she hit hard enough to break his neck.”
“I didn’t,” Eleret said. “I got a clean strike on the back of his knee and a bad kick on the same side, but neither one would have done more than bruise. I wasn’t aiming to kill.”
“I see.” Charis gave Eleret a long, measuring look.
Sunnar, who was examining the dead man, gave a sudden exclamation. A moment later, he pulled a small metal implement gingerly out of the dead man’s hand. Eleret leaned closer to get a better view. It was a narrow band of metal, just long enough to span the width of two fingers. The ends curved up and around the fingers, holding the strip in place. From the outer surface projected two needlelike prongs an inch long, coated with something black and shiny.
“Stupid of him to wear it on the palm side,” Sunnar said, grimacing. “Got a bag for this, Charis?”
Daner stared in fascination. “What is that thing?”
“An assassin’s weapon called a viper’s tooth,” Sunnar said, sitting back on his heels. “They wear it like so.” He held the wicked-looking object up so that the prongs stood out from the backs of his fingers. “The teeth are poisoned; it only takes a scratch to kill.”
Daner stiffened and stepped protectively between Eleret and the dead man. For once, Eleret did not mind. No Cilhar would ever use a viper’s tooth, but in the Mountains of Morravik even the youngest children had heard of them. There had been a time when half the Syaski raiders who invaded the lower passes had carried the deadly little tools. She turned away, feeling a need to put more distance between herself and the body of any man who would employ such a weapon.
“This one was a pretty inept assassin,” Charis said, handing her partner a leather pouch. “I take it he fell on the thing?”
Sunnar shook his head. “Closed his hand around it when he went down, I’d say. It comes to the same thing. I said he was stupid to wear it on the palm side.” He turned to Daner. “Who wants you dead, my lord?”
“No one I know of,” Daner replied. “And anyway, I don’t think he was aiming for—”
“Not now, my lord,” Charis broke in loudly. “We’ll go over the details at the duty hut, when you make your complaint. Until then it’s best not to discuss it.”
Daner frowned. “But—”
“Don’t bother objecting, my lord. Your father’d have our swords, and rightly so, if we let you leave without looking into this.”
“He’d have more than that, now that you mention it,” Daner said. “He’d have my hide to patch his mainsail.” His frown faded and he shrugged. “Very well. Let’s get this over with.”
“Come along, then,” Sunnar said. He turned toward the crowd and raised his voice. “Clear a way, there. Official business, City Guard. Clear a way.”
Slowly, a path opened as the people jammed themselves together in response to Sunnar’s wave. Sunnar strode toward it, motioning to Daner and Eleret to follow. Feeling a little nervous, Eleret did so, and Daner fell into step beside her.
“There’s no need to look so grim,” he said softly as they left the alley. “This really won’t take long. We’ll have plenty of time to get out of the city before nightfall, if that’s still what you want.”
“Not now, Daner.” Watching the crowd on both sides while following Sunnar kept Eleret fully occupied; she had no attention to spare for conversation.
“I thought you’d change your mind,” Daner said, misunderstanding her completely. “In a day or two, the guards will have found out the reason for this attack, and then—”
“Later, Daner.”
Her tone must have gotten through to him at last, for he fell silent. Eleret gave a quiet sigh of relief and concentrated on the crowd. Once they got away from the alley, the traffic returned to its normal density, but there were still too many people. Anyone could hide among them, anywhere.
Half a block from the alley, Sunnar turned down a side street. Two blocks farther on he stopped in front of a small wooden building with shuttered windows, huddled between two tall stone structures. As he unlocked the door, Charis came hurrying up the street after them.
Sunnar reached for his sword. “Now what?” he asked as his partner reached them.
“Now we take Lord Daner’s complaint,” Charis answered blandly. She pushed the door open and motioned them forward.
“Sink it in a whirling storm, Charis! Why aren’t you seeing to the cleanup, the way you’re supposed to?”
“I thought you’d need me here. Don’t fuss, Sunnar; Troke and Audellen saw the crowd and stopped. They’ll handle things there.”
“And we’ll owe them another favor,” Sunnar muttered, shoving his half-drawn sword back into place. “Why do you always push the messy jobs into someone else’s boat?”
“Because if I didn’t, we’d never do any other kind,” Charis said with unruffled calm. “Inside, Sunnar. We’re keeping Lord Daner waiting.”
Sunnar looked at Daner and turned the corners of his mouth down expressively. With a final glare at his partner, he marched through the open door. Relieved at the chance to get off the street, Eleret followed. Daner shrugged and did likewise.
The interior of the duty hut was dim and smelled of smoke and stale beer. An iron lantern, flecked with rust, hung on a wooden peg beside the door, just above a narrow horizontal slot in the wall. A willow basket sat on the floor underneath the slot to catch whatever might be put through it. Along one wall, opposite the hearth, stood a table littered with paper and assorted odds and ends—a bunch of keys, an apple core, a coiled bowstring.
Sunnar flung himself onto a large barrel sitting beside the table. Folding his arms, he leaned back and glared at his partner. “All right, Charis, what—”
“You’ve gotten hold of the wrong end of the oar, Sunnar, that’s what.” Charis shut the door behind her and leaned back against it. “Those three weren’t after Lord Daner. They were trying to kill this girl. At least, that last one was.”
“The girl?” Sunnar’s long face grew thoughtful, then he nodded. “Sure. I’d have seen it myself if I’d had more time to think about it. So?”
“So I wanted to hear for myself what these two have to say. Your summaries tend to lack detail.” Charis turned her head to look at Daner and Eleret. She gave Daner a respectful nod and added, “Now, will you tell u
s what happened, my lord, so we can start looking into this properly?”
EIGHT
DANER SEATED HIMSELF ON the nearest of two sturdy wooden boxes, throwing the right side of his cloak back over his shoulder. “Of course I’ll tell you,” he said, smiling. “Although I don’t have much more to say. They came up behind us and started shooting arrows; it’s sheer luck that one of us wasn’t hit. And before you ask, no, I don’t know why they did it.”
“They were assassins.” Sunnar spread his hands wide as if to demonstrate how obvious this deduction was.
“No,” said Eleret. “They were Syaski. At least, the last one was.”
All three of the others turned to look at her. “How do you know?” Charis asked.
“He used a Syaski expression right after Daner disarmed him. And assassins aren’t the only ones who use the viper’s tooth; the Syaski do, too.”
“So they’re Syaski assassins,” Sunnar said with evident impatience. “The important thing is who hired ’em to kill you, not where they came from.”
“I’m afraid you’re wrong again, Sunnar.” Charis directed her level gaze at Eleret, and smiled slightly. “You’re a Cilhar, aren’t you?”
Eleret nodded.
Sunnar looked from her to Charis with a baffled expression. “So she’s Cilhar. So what?”
“The Syaski and the Cilhar are mortal enemies,” Daner said. He looked at Charis. “I think you’ve got hold of the right line, madam.”
“Oh, come on. You’re not saying that that’s the reason those clam-heads started in on the two of you,” Sunnar said to Daner. “It isn’t enough.”
“It’s been enough for two hundred years,” Eleret said.
“Two hundred years?”
“That’s how long the Syaski and the Cilhar have been fighting,” Daner said. “The only reason they’ve finally stopped is that eight years ago the Emperor took the Mountains of Morravik under his protection and then pulled his lines in, hard. There’s still trouble along the border now and then.”
The surprise Eleret felt must have shown on her face, for Daner gave her one of his charming smiles and added, “My family is somewhat involved in the eastern trade, so of course we keep track of politics in the area.”
“All right, maybe that shark-bait would have jumped you in the mountains,” Sunnar conceded. “But this is Ciaron.” He frowned suddenly. “How’d they spot you, anyway? Did either of you recognize any of ’em?”
“No.” Eleret would have felt better if she had known one of the men; it would have explained how they had found her. But her one skirmish with Syaski raiders had been an archery battle, and none of the enemy survivors had gotten close enough to see her face. She wished suddenly and passionately for her bow and quiver and the clean, uncrowded mountain forest where she knew the dangers and how to face them.
Daner, too, shook his head. Sunnar’s frown deepened. “Well, if they didn’t know you, why in the name of the Emperor’s backside did they jump you?”
“Sunnar!” Charis sounded thoroughly exasperated. “Beg pardon, my lord. We don’t deal with nobility often in this section.”
“I take no offense,” Daner said. A hint of dry amusement sounded through the formality of his tone.
A fleeting expression of relief crossed Charis’s face. Then she smiled and gestured Eleret toward the second box. “Sit down, Freelady…?”
“Salven,” Eleret said, taking the seat. “Eleret Salven.”
“Thank you, Freelady Salven,” Charis said. She turned to Daner. “I think it would be best if we heard the whole story from the beginning now, my lord.” She glanced sternly at her workingmate. “So we’ll know what questions to ask.”
“As you wish,” Daner said. “We had just turned off the northeast avenue, when—”
“What were you doing on the northeast avenue?” Sunnar broke in.
“We were on our way to the Larkirst Trade Station,” Daner said, raising his eyebrows.
Sunnar nodded, unimpressed. “Go on.”
In quick, well-chosen words, Daner summarized their encounter with the fast-talking thief, their withdrawal to the alley, the attack, and the fight that followed. From his description, Eleret could tell that he did not know whether her deadly knife-throw had been the result of luck or skill, and he had not even noticed her raven’s-feet or the cloaked and hooded figure at the end of the alley. She concluded that, for all his skill, the young Ciaronese had little experience with real battles. No Cilhar would have been so sublimely unaware of what might be happening around him, nor so oblivious to a companion’s help. No wonder Daner had kept getting in the way of her throwing lines.
“Very good, my lord,” Charis said when Daner finished. “We’ll keep an eye out for the thief, I promise you, but I can’t say we’ve much hope of catching him.”
“He’s probably halfway to the tenement section by now,” Sunnar agreed glumly. “We’ll need more than a description to catch up with him there.”
Daner hesitated. “He said his name was Karvonen Aurelico.”
“Aurelico?” Sunnar straightened up so quickly that he almost fell off his barrel. “Are you sure?”
“That was the name he gave us,” Daner said cautiously. “I can’t tell you whether he was lying.”
“He wasn’t,” Charis said with certainty. “Nobody who knows enough to use that name would lie about it.” She frowned, fingering the hilt of her sword. “But look here, Sunnar, he can’t have been the Aurelico. Not picking pockets on the open street.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Sunnar replied. “I’d settle for a fourth cousin twice removed, if I could catch one. Rot it, my lord, why couldn’t you have held on to him until we got there?”
“I had other things on my mind just then, if you recall,” Daner said. “Who is this person we stumbled across?”
“Somebody worth catching,” Charis said. “The Aurelico family are the best thieves on Lyra and have been for generations. No one knows how many of them there are, or where they’re based. They’re a tight-knit group, with their own code of honor, such as it is, and they’re very particular about certain things. One of which is the use of their name.”
Sunnar nodded emphatically. “A fellow down in Drinn stole a ruby from one of the temples a couple of years ago and left a note claiming the Aurelico had done it. He probably hoped to throw the pursuit off his trail, but he didn’t count on the Aurelicos. Two days after the theft he turned up tied to the high altar like a goat ready to sacrifice, with the ruby lying in the middle of his chest and a note from the Aurelicos underneath it. They didn’t like taking credit for things they hadn’t done, they said, so they were returning the missing jewel and the man who’d stolen it. They apologized for the irreverence of their method, but said they felt it was appropriate.”
“You keep talking about the Aurelico,” Eleret said. “Who is that?”
“The Aurelico is the head of the family,” Charis said. “The Master Thief, if you like. More than that, I can’t tell you. I wish I could.”
“You know, if one of the Aurelicos is working Ciaron, we’d better send word to the palace,” Sunnar put in thoughtfully. “And to some of the noble houses, too. Lady Trewisha Povarrella has a diamond necklet that’s enough to tempt the Aurelico himself.”
Charis shook her head. “Sunnar, we’re talking about an Aurelico, and we don’t even know what he’s after. You can’t expect everyone in the city with something worth stealing to triple their security.”
“No, but when whatever-he’s-after turns up missing, it’ll be the fault of the palace sentries or the lord’s watchmen, not the City Guard.”
“True.” Charis crossed to the table and began rummaging through the litter. “Where’s the clean paper? I’ll write a quick note to the head of the Palace Watch now, and we can send the details when—”
With a muffled rattle, a white square poked through the slot beside the door and fell into the willow basket below. The two guards turned as one to look at it.
“Now what?” Sunnar grumbled as he stood up. He plucked the note from the basket, flipped it over, and groaned. Charis turned and glanced at the dark blob of wax, then rolled her eyes.
“The official seal of the Imperial Guard,” she said with disgust. “What do they want this time? And why in hell can’t those lazy oafs use proper channels for it?”
Sunnar thumbed his ear at the letter, then slid the same thumb under the seal, breaking it. He unfolded the paper and squinted at it. A moment later, his face settled into an official, expressionless mask. “See for yourself, Charis,” he said, passing her the note.
As she read the message, Charis’s eyebrows rose. “Well, look at this. Another timely warning from the Emperor’s high-nosed and most excellent Imperial Guards to us lowly folks who patrol the streets every day. It seems there’s a young, red-haired Cilhar woman, name of Eleret Salven, whom they expect will get into some kind of trouble on her way out of the city, maybe today, maybe tomorrow, maybe three or four days from now. We’re to keep a weather eye out for her and send her along as soon as we find her. Signed and sealed, et cetera. Idiots. I’ll wager they’ve known about this for a week.”
“I don’t think so,” Eleret said. “I saw Commander Weziral this morning. I’m sure he’d have warned me then, if he’d known anything.” Had it only been that morning? It seemed more like days.
The two guards looked at her. “You know the Commander?” Sunnar said at last.
“Not really. It was business.” Eleret did not feel like explaining about her mother and the kit bag and the Commander’s misgivings. These people were friendly enough, but she had known none of them until today. “It’s a long tale.”
Raven Ring Page 10