by Robin Hobb
“No!” she screamed at me. She slashed at the roots crawling toward her, and they fell back, but that was no help to me. Shrieking in frustration, she snatched up her child and ran. I watched them go, heard the slap of her feet down the stone-flagged hall and felt the little roots in my feet dig deeper. It was done. I’d salvaged what I could from my old life and now it was time to let it go. I resolved not to scream.
But an instant later, scream I did as flames engulfed the room. Amzil sent a second lantern crashing to the floor to follow the first. That one broke, the oil splashing my boots and trouser legs. The hungry flames leapt up to follow the splattered oil. “Now run, you great idiot!” Amzil yelled at me. She came into the room, through the flames, whipping the saber’s blade against the floor. Roots scorched and writhed and I heard Soldier’s Boy shout angrily.
Ignoring flames and wriggling roots, Amzil clashed the blade again and again on the floor, working in a circle around me and literally chopping me free of the roots that gripped me. As she worked, she kicked at roots that squirmed and crawled toward her own lightly shod feet. I lifted my feet and like a chained dog strained against the final tethers that held me. Soldier’s Boy’s angry roar in my mind was abruptly silenced as a wild slice of the blade severed the last root. The oil-fed flames were licking up the walls and leaping at Amzil’s skirts. The burning carpet of roots made a choking smoke. Kara had come back to the door. “Come out of there!” she shrieked at us, and hurled another lantern into the flames. As it shattered, the fire roared and leapt higher. I snatched Amzil up and held her above the flames. We fled. The hall before us was dark, lit only by the dancing flames behind us. As I passed Kara, I tried to grab her by the arm. The child was faster. She swarmed up me like a little monkey and clung to her mother. I scarcely felt her added weight as I ran down the hall.
Fire fears no magic, I thought. I glanced back once. Smoke was roiling toward us. The timbers of the ceiling were starting to kindle. I opened the door, ducked through it with my burdens, and then closed it quickly behind me. We were outside now, but still mostly concealed in the stairwell that led to the lower cells. Amzil slid from my arms to stand on her own. Kara was weeping, her shoulders shaking in terror. “Hush now,” I had to tell her. “We must go quietly.”
The streets of Gettys seemed unnaturally dark to our fire-dazzled eyes. The door to the headquarters building was ajar and light spilled from it. We crept from the stairwell. Amzil started to go down the alley. I seized her hand and led her in the other direction. I did not want to pass the tree. We walked quickly, quietly, and turned off the main street as soon as we could. “We’ll have to make our way to a gate from here,” I told them. “And we’ll have to go quietly and unseen.”
Kara suddenly ceased her muffled sobbing. In a thick little voice, she said, “The east gate. That’s where I sneaked in. He goes behind his sentry box to drink. Everyone knows that. He smells like Gettys Tonic.”
The child was right.
Once we were outside the walls of the fort, we limped through the deserted streets of Gettys Town. My feet were in agony and Amzil’s little better. I wanted to carry Kara, but Amzil would not let go of her daughter. As we turned toward the cottage on the outskirts of town where the other children and the cart awaited us, I asked Amzil quietly, “When did you recognize me?”
“Kara was calling you by name. But I think I knew it was you when you threw me across the room and then flung a sword at me.”
“Why?”
“It was the look in your eyes. I don’t know how you can be here, or even how you can be Nevare. But I’m glad.”
I knew it would be a foolish time to try and kiss her, and wasn’t sure how she would react if I’d tried to embrace her in front of her daughter. So we walked a while in silence before she suddenly exclaimed in annoyance. “Must I do everything?” she demanded of the night, and then seized my hand so that I had to turn to face her. She pushed in close against my chest and I held them, mother and daughter. I kissed the top of Amzil’s bent head. She smelled of lamp oil and smoke. It was a heady fragrance. She turned her face up to mine. I bent to kiss her.
Kara squirmed between us. “We have to hurry,” she told us. “We have to get Sem and Dia from that mean woman.”
“What mean woman?” I demanded, suddenly afraid.
“While the missus was there, she was nice. And she wasn’t mean until Dia started crying and wouldn’t stop and that made her baby wake up. She scolded Dia and Sem told her to leave our little sister alone. And then she called Sem a whore’s son and said about…said about Mummy deserving what she’d get, that she was going to hang tomorrow and was in jail tonight and we’d be orphans and that if the missus had half a thought in her brainless head, she’d turn us out into the streets.”
“That bitch,” Amzil said with great feeling.
“Yes,” agreed Kara. “So that was when I knew I had to come back for you. And I took Sem aside and told him to obey her, so I could creep out after dark. And I told him to get Dia and our things into the cart after I left. I told him to keep Dia quiet, and to move the cart farther from that woman’s house.”
“He’s too small,” I protested, but Kara calmly replied, “You’d be surprised what Sem can do when he wants to do it. He’s very determined. And he’s helped the missus harness the horse to the cart before.”
She was right. When we reached the cottage, all the lights were out. All seemed peaceful there. If the woman knew her charges had escaped, she did not care. Kara confidently led us past the cottage, and just beyond a shambles of a barn, Sem sat on the seat of the cart, holding the reins. Little Dia was sound asleep in the bed of the wagon. Kara and Amzil wearily climbed into the back of it and joined her. I mounted the seat and sat down behind Sem. “Let’s go,” I told the boy.
“You want to drive?” he asked me, offering up the reins.
“Only if you think you can’t handle it,” I told him.
He slapped the reins on the nag’s back and we rattled off into the night.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
RETROSPECTION
Sem drove until his head was nodding over the reins. When I took them from his hands, he started slightly. Then he clambered into the back of the cart and fell asleep next to his mother. Despite an uncertain road and our wobbly wheel, I drove on until dawn and beyond. As the light crept across the sky behind me, I glanced back often, fearing pursuit. By noon, when we had seen no one, I began to hope. I stopped only twice that day, to water the horse. We shared some bread as we rattled along but I insisted that we push on until it was too dark to negotiate the rutted road.
We spoke little, Amzil and I. There seemed too much to say, and most of it was not what we’d want to discuss before the children. I was pleased when she climbed up to sit on the cart seat beside me, and even more pleased when she timidly put her hand on my arm. I glanced over at her.
“I loved you the way you were,” she said quietly. She still had a smudge of smoke down the side of her cheek.
I had to grin. “Well, I hope the change hasn’t put you off.”
She laughed. “No. But—there’s so much I don’t understand. I know, from what the missus—Epiny—told me that this must be, well, the way you used to be. And she’s told me about the magic and all. But still—”
“I am going to tell you everything,” I promised her. “Every bit of it.”
Then we drove on in silence. I winced as I imagined explaining Olikea and Likari to her. Then, even though my heart sank with dread, I resolved that she would have the full truth. She’d either accept and forgive what I had done, with the understanding that Soldier’s Boy had motivated much of it, or she wouldn’t. But from now on, I wasn’t going to live with pretense of any kind.
As we drove, Kara told the other children a highly colored tale of her adventure and how she had rescued Amzil and me. Sem mocked her; they squabbled; Amzil scolded them and then gave them some cold biscuits to keep them occupied. After that, the children gab
bled to one another, and then argued over who would sit where. Amzil matter-of-factly tore up her apron to bandage Kara’s leg and her own legs. Kara drove for a time when Amzil insisted on bandaging my feet as well. I’d been afraid to take the boots off to see how much damage there was. When I did, I felt queasy and it was all I could do to clench my teeth and only groan as Amzil loathingly drew the limp little pink roots out of my feet. Kara watched in horrified fascination, all the while telling Sem, “See, I told you so. You didn’t believe me about that string monster, did you, but see, it stuck strings right into Nevare’s feet.”
“Mr. Bur,” Amzil corrected her daughter and, “Burvelle, actually,” I told Amzil.
She gave me a questioning look. “I’m not going to hide who I am from them,” I told her.
She looked down at the rag that was the remnant of her apron. She folded it carefully. “I’m not sure if I know who you really are.”
I laughed. “Neither am I. But I think we’ll have plenty of time to find out.”
The first night we stopped, I drove the cart carefully off the road and behind a thicket. That evening Sem and I hunted with my sling, but not successfully, for my feet were exceedingly painful. It was just as well we didn’t get anything. We’d have had to eat it raw, for we didn’t dare light a fire. We ate a small, cold meal and then bedded the children down in the back of the cart. The older two fell asleep almost instantly, but little Dia wailed at the dark open sky overhead and the strangeness of it all. As I listened to her thin, woeful voice rising to the distant stars, I almost wanted to join in. Amzil walked her, pacing slowly around the cart, humming, until finally exhaustion won and Dia slept. She tucked Dia in between her brother and sister and then came to stand beside me. She hugged herself in the darkness and asked me the same question I’d been pondering most of the day. “Now what do we do? Where do we go?”
“Far away from Gettys,” I said, striving to sound optimistic and certain. “To a new life.” Very gently I took her in my arms. She turned her face up to mine and I finally kissed her as I’d always longed to, a slow, sweet kiss with her body fitted against my own. She deepened the kiss, and I felt as if we were spinning at the center of something wonderful and deep, something I’d never truly known before this moment. Then she took her mouth from mine and leaned her head against my chest.
“Amzil,” I said, thinking I needed no other words.
But she spoke. “You’ve saved me. More than once. You’ve a right to me now, I suppose. But Nevare—” She hesitated, and that pause was ice down my back. “Nevare, I’ve changed since the Lieutenant and Missus Epiny took me in. I can’t just get by in this life. You may not think so, after what you’ve seen of me, but my mother raised me to be what she was, a respectable woman. Not nobility, like you, no, nothing so grand. But respectable.” Her voice was narrowing, squeezed by tears. “And that’s how I want to raise my daughter. I want Kara to see herself as a woman that deserves, well, deserves to be married to the man she beds. Deserves his respect.” She lifted her hand between us to rub the tears from her face. “However foolish that might seem to you.” Her voice went lower, inviting me to share the bitter joke. “A murderess and a whore wanting to make her daughter think she’s a respectable woman.”
I took a deep and difficult breath. “We’re starting a new life, Amzil. I think we should do our best to start it right.” With a groan, I released her. “I want you, very badly. But I will not claim that from you as if it were a debt you had to pay. Nor do I want you to come to me unaware of who I am. I know that I love you. But you need to know who I am. It will not be easy for me to wait. But I will.” I leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “And we are still fleeing for our lives. Tonight, we must get what sleep we can.”
Although I slept little that night, my dreams were the sweetest they had ever been. And before the dawn, I rousted everyone out for another long day’s travel.
On the second evening that we camped, we settled for the night in a brushy hollow away from the road’s edge. Amzil wanted to boil some water and wash out our injuries, but I was not certain of the wisdom of starting a fire. “If they were looking for us, they’d have found us by now,” she said irritably. “Men on horseback could have overtaken us easily. My feet hurt, and I know yours must. What good does it do us to flee if an infection kills us anyway? If they were going to catch us, they would have by now.”
“It depends on how bad the fire was,” I countered. “They may at first assume that you perished there. And then, when they start tearing down the charred ruins, discover that we didn’t. And send a patrol to hunt us down.”
She gave an impatient sigh. “We took the horse and cart. My children are not in town. Anyone who wants to know, knows that we left town. If they wanted us, they’d have us. I think fire is more important than stealth right now.”
She won, but I gathered the very driest wood and kindling that I could find for her, and insisted that we keep the fire small and smokeless. Yet I was grateful when she boiled water for tea as well. There is something about a hot drink that can put heart back into a man. Just as I began to relax, a slight sound turned my head. An immense croaker bird settled heavily into a nearby tree. I stared at it, waiting, but the ugly thing only whetted its beak on a branch and looked down at us. Amzil and the children paid it no mind. Sem was begging his mother to make hearth cakes like she used to cook, and Amzil was considering our supplies to see if it were possible. I sat and stared at the bird of ill omen. I thought of Spink’s words and, like him, longed to return to a life in which a bird was always only a bird.
“Good evening, Nevare.”
I turned my head slowly. I’d already recognized the voice. Tiber had come up on us as quietly as a stalking panther. He stood at the edge of our camp, looking at us. Kara gave a little shriek when he spoke. Amzil froze where she was, with the pot just lifted off the fire so that she could pour more water on the tea leaves.
“Good evening, Tiber,” I said in resignation.
I think he realized that Amzil was more of a threat than I was. “Evening, ma’am,” he said with a respectful nod to her. He smiled disarmingly and asked, “Could I beg a cup of that tea from you? It smells very welcoming.”
Amzil looked at me. I nodded slowly. Tiber approached our small fire carefully, like a stray cat moving into unfamiliar territory. He smiled at me, nodded to the children, and then hunkered down to accept the cup of tea that Amzil gingerly offered him. He seemed disinclined to speak immediately but I could not stand the suspense. I asked him directly, “What brings you out this way?”
He smiled. “Well, you know, Nevare. I’m a scout. I’m scouting.”
“For what?” I knew scouts had various duties, usually defined by whom the commander was. Buel Hitch had been sent on errands to fetch smoked fish, but also to keep a watch on how many Specks were in the area and to watch for signs of highwaymen working the road. Most often, scouts kept in touch with the indigenous populations and acted as liaison with them. Buel had spoken to me of such duties. It was likely that when he’d died, Tiber had inherited them.
“Well, you’d mentioned you’d been attacked and robbed, so I thought I would ride this stretch of road and see what I could see. I’m pleased to tell you I’ve found no signs of robbers or thieves. Whoever attacked you must be long gone. But that’s not my only errand.”
He blew on his hot mug of tea. I waited. “Gettys is in a bit of a stir. The commander is in the infirmary. The doctor says he probably had some sort of a seizure. His mind hasn’t been clear since then. No one was surprised. He’s seemed a bit erratic the last few months. Poor fellow’s on bed rest now, and Captain Gorling has stepped up to command.” He took a sip of tea and nodded to himself. “I like him. He’s not as excitable as Thayer, except when his wife gets to him. He leads the men instead of driving them. The men seem relieved. The very same night the Captain fell ill, we had a bit of a fire in the old jail. Burned through some beams, and the whole building collapsed into the
cells below.” He glanced at me and away, glanced up at the croaker bird and then came back to me.
“But how about you?” he asked sociably. “I thought you were going to stay around Gettys for a while. I even dropped by Lieutenant Kester’s house, same night we had all that excitement. I thought I’d visit and see if you might want to hear about being a scout for the regiment. We’re short on scouts right now. In fact, there’s only one. Me. We lost one of our best scouts last summer in the plague.” He paused and looked at me carefully over the rim of his cup as he drank more tea. I said nothing.
“Fellow name of Buel Hitch,” Tiber went on. “He was before your time at the Academy. You wouldn’t have known him there. He was ‘invited to leave’ when I was just a first year, for pretty much the same reasons I was invited to go be a scout, somewhere else. The man couldn’t tolerate bullies. Hitch wasn’t meant to be a standard-issue officer, but he was a man’s man when things got tough. Knew who his friends were. He saved me from a couple of bad mistakes when I first got to Gettys. And stories! The fellow could tell stories all day, craziest tales you ever heard, mostly about the Specks and their magic. He’d make them seem real. Too bad he’s gone now. I think you’d have liked him. I know he’d have liked you.”
The children had fallen silent. Dia and Kara both crept closer to their mother. Amzil put her arms around them. Sem was in the wagon, unobtrusively looking for something. When he stood up, my sling dangled from his hand and he was breathing carefully through his open mouth.
I was still and silent, the mouse frozen by the watchful cat’s stare. Tiber drank off the last of his tea and set the mug down with a regretful sigh. “Well, folks, I have to be on my way. Thanks for a pleasant pause, but I’ve got a job to do. You watch out for those highwaymen, Burvelle. Oh, and I should warn you. When I left town, there was a rumor about some escaped criminal. Said to be dangerous. I’m supposed to be looking for her right now.”