The Rabbit And The Raven

by Melissa Eskue Ousley

  “Yes, my lord.” Hedeon bowed to the oracle and then turned to follow the Solas Beir and his friends.

  Chapter Twelve

  RUN RABBIT RUN

  “We’re leaving,” Jon heard David call as he stormed by the hospitality parlor, towing a veiled Abby. Cael followed a few paces behind.

  Startled, Marisol looked up from the game she and Jon had been playing with the parlor attendant. She gave Jon a look of wide-eyed alarm, and they both rose from their chairs.

  “Thanks,” Jon said to the attendant, handing her the parchment cards he had been holding. Marisol placed hers on the marble-topped table in front of her. Jon grabbed Marisol’s hand and they hurried to catch up to the others.

  David, Abby, and Cael were almost to the top of the stairs when Jon and Marisol joined them. “How’d it go?” Jon asked.

  “We’ll talk in the carriage,” David growled, charging down the stairs.

  Jon raised his eyebrows. Apparently, the sooner they left the palace, the better.

  David watched the guards close the carriage door. He took a deep breath as the iron door clanged shut. Abby removed her veil and began to fold it into a neat square on her lap.

  “Well?” Marisol whispered. “What did the Eastern Oracle say?”

  “Pompous sack of…” David grumbled under his breath. Abby placed her hand on his arm and gave him a warning look. He glanced at Abby, sighed, and turned to Marisol. “He insulted Cael, my mother, my father, Nerine, and by proxy, pretty much everyone else associated with me. Then, he suggested I give up my little war and establish a system of glorified prostitution to solve my problems. I honestly don’t know what I should be most offended about.”

  Jon let out a low whistle. “Wow. Super classy.”

  “I wouldn’t call the courtesan law prostitution,” Abby said quietly.

  David turned to look at her. “It is though. Maybe not in the traditional sense of the word, but they are selling their bodies to the Kruorumbrae.”

  “As food,” Abby clarified, looking from Marisol to Jon.

  “Yes, as food,” David said, disgusted by the thought. “Although who knows—why stop there?” He shrugged angrily. “And then, to mark them with the Sign of the Throne? The oracle has twisted a sacred symbol into something perverse. What I really don’t get is why the courtesans do it—why would they voluntarily let those things feed on them?”

  “Maybe they don’t have a choice,” Abby replied. “Maybe that courtesan was coerced into saying he choose it of his own free will. Or maybe he’s doing it to protect his family. I would.”

  “You wouldn’t if I had anything to say about it,” David growled, his hands clenching into fists again. He stared at them as if they were foreign objects sitting in his lap, some distant manifestation of the anger and frustration boiling within him.

  Abby covered his hands with hers, studying his face. He looked up into those beautiful cerulean eyes that he loved so much, and uncurled his fingers, taking her hands instead.

  “I would if it meant protecting you,” she said. “Is that really all that different from the time I protected you from Calder?”

  David nodded. “Yes, Abby, it is. Calder was trying to kill us, and he almost succeeded. It was a life or death situation. But that’s my point—it never should have come to that, nor should it come to this. These people shouldn’t have to sell themselves to protect their families. They shouldn’t have to live in fear.”

  “At least we know where the oracle stands now,” Abby replied. “He drew his line in the sand.”

  “There’s that, I guess.” David sighed heavily—his meeting with the Eastern Oracle had been brief but draining, and he felt exhausted. He saw Abby’s eyes widen with concern so he managed a weak smile. “Did you pick up on anything else from him? Anything about Tierney?”

  Abby shook her head. “No, nothing. Except what we already suspected, that there’s something he wants to keep hidden. I think the Eastern Oracle all but confirmed that with the way he was baiting you. It was like he was trying to make you angry so you wouldn’t see what’s really going on.”

  “Yes, I think so,” Cael mused, talking to himself more than anyone else. David looked at him, wondering what else Cael suspected, and why he was being so quiet about it.

  The carriage began to move, and then lurched to a stop. Outside they could hear raised voices. Abby’s hand flew to her mouth—David grabbed her other hand and tried to calm the wild beating of his own heart.

  “The Eastern Oracle commanded that I stay with our guests,” David heard Hedeon say. “That is what I am doing. Now, if you please—open the door.”

  The guard grumbled something unintelligible, and then the door opened. Hedeon stepped inside, taking a seat beside Marisol. “Thank you,” Hedeon said to the guard. “Now, please take us to the Hall of Solas Beirs.” The guard closed the door, and in a few seconds the carriage began to move once again.

  Hedeon bowed his head respectfully toward the Solas Beir. “I beg your pardon for intruding, Your Majesty, but I would have a word, while I can.”

  The Solas Beir’s gaze was intense, guarded. “All right,” he said. “We’re listening.”

  “First, I am sorry about what happened in court,” Hedeon began, keeping his voice low so he would not be overheard by the guards outside. The rolling wheels of the iron carriage were loud on the pavers. He hoped they would mask any sounds within the cabin. During the trip up the hill to the palace, he had been listening carefully from outside the carriage, and he had not been able to decipher the conversation within until the carriage had stopped. Still, it was best to whisper. “I know the meeting did not go as you wished.”

  “You can say that again,” Jon muttered.

  Hedeon looked at Jon and then back at the Solas Beir. “Second, I am not here to keep an eye on you,” he continued.

  “You’re not?” Marisol questioned.

  “No.” Hedeon shook his head and then thought about it. He smiled at Marisol. “Well, that is not entirely true. The Eastern Oracle did command that I follow you, so I must accompany you until you are out of the city. As you may have guessed, there are areas of the city he does not wish for you to see.”

  “Yeah, why is that exactly?” Jon asked.

  “Jon.” Marisol shot him a warning look.

  Hedeon placed his hand on Marisol’s arm briefly, and then removed it when Jon narrowed his eyes threateningly. “It is all right, Marisol—your friend asks a valid question. The Eastern Oracle censors your view because he is invested in keeping the status quo,” he whispered. “I am sorry, Solas Beir. I lied to you before about there being peace in this city. Kruorumbrae have preyed on the people who live here. The courtesan system has decreased the number of incidents, but it has not eliminated the problem. And since we received word of Tierney’s escape, the number of attacks has increased.”

  “Why are you telling us this now?” the Solas Beir asked. “And why should we believe you?”

  “I understand why you may doubt me, but I knew your father. He was a good man and a just king. Before he was crowned Solas Beir, we served together in the wars against the Blood Shadows at the stronghold on the northern edge of the Barren. You showed great courage in standing against the Eastern Oracle. You proved your worth as a leader, Sire, and that was when I knew I could trust you,” Hedeon said. He looked down at his feet, and then up at the Solas Beir again. He smiled. “Seeing you speak in court today…it was as if I were seeing your father once again.”

  “Thank you. That means a lot to me,” the Solas Beir said. He still looked guarded, but smiled slightly.

  “You are most welcome. You value equal treatment of all your people, just as your father did,” Hedeon continued. He hesitated, unsure of how the Solas Beir would react to what he needed to say next. “Your Majesty…when you go to war, as I know you must, know that not everyone in this city agrees with the Eastern Oracle’s archaic policies. There are good people here who would join your fight if they
were not afraid that open resistance would endanger their families. Please do not judge them based on what you saw today.”

  “I will try not to,” the Solas Beir replied. He reached out and placed his hand on Hedeon’s arm. “And I do understand that you are taking a risk in telling me the truth. I appreciate your courage.”

  Hedeon smiled warmly, relieved. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” He took the Solas Beir’s hand and reverently pressed it to his forehead to show his gratitude and respect. Then he let go of his king’s hand and looked around at the Solas Beir’s friends. “Now, let us retrieve your belongings and get you out of the city. We will stop in the market to replenish your supplies, and the ladies can browse the fabric shops. We do not want to arouse suspicion about how much you know, so I would advise that you keep up your ruse and not be too quick to leave.”

  “You knew that was an act?” Abby asked. Her eyes were wide with surprise.

  Hedeon chuckled. “Yes. The behavior I observed when you emerged from this carriage was quite out of character from the two young women I met on the road at the Eye of the Needle. You were much more guarded then. But fear not—most of the guards are new, and have been conditioned to turn a blind eye to the antics of the upper class.”

  “What happened to the old guards?” Cael asked. “Were they executed?”

  “No, just dismissed. In implementing the courtesan system, the Eastern Oracle brought in new guards. He knew the old ones would object,” Hedeon explained. “In fact, we were recently ordered to recruit a fresh batch of guards, although I do not know why. Perhaps some of the guards installed at the time the courtesan law was established had doubts as to its effectiveness. I know I have.”

  “How is it you have remained?” Cael asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes. “The oracle must have known about your loyalty to David’s father.”

  “I was able to keep the Eastern Oracle’s trust when he needed someone to train the new recruits,” Hedeon replied, unable to meet Cael’s gaze. “When you deal with devils, you must sometimes act as one. I am not proud of what I have done, but I hope to make amends now that we once again have a Solas Beir. For now I will do my best to keep the guards from following you when you leave.”

  Easier said than done, Abby thought. Things had gone smoothly in retrieving their packs and securing horses. Hedeon had accompanied them to the bazaar, but was suddenly called away. There were reports of a prisoner escaping the palace dungeon, and as head guard, Hedeon was needed to coordinate the search.

  “Tell Garvan that as my second in command, he should begin the search, and I will join him shortly,” Hedeon had said, addressing the page sent to retrieve him. “The Eastern Oracle asked me to personally accompany the Solas Beir until his departure from the city. That is my first priority.”

  “With all due respect, sir, given the circumstances, priorities have changed,” the young man replied. “His Honor the Eastern Oracle commanded me to fetch you. He said your presence was required in the dungeon immediately.”

  “Yes, yes, all right,” Hedeon sighed, waving the page away dismissively. “My apologies, dear ladies, but I serve at my master’s prerogative. I must take my leave.”

  “Is it a dangerous prisoner?” Marisol asked. She looked frightened. Abby wondered if Marisol knew something she wasn’t saying. There hadn’t been time to ask her if she and Jon had gleaned anything useful from the parlor attendant.

  Hedeon also seemed to pick up on Marisol’s fear. Smiling, he patted her hand to comfort her. “Fear not, my lady. I will leave two guards with you.” To the guards he added, “The ladies of the Solas Beir’s court are not to be disturbed as they visit the market. They are buying fabric for the wedding of the queen. Protect them, but do not interfere in their business.”

  “Yes, my lord,” one of the guards replied.

  Abby and Marisol exchanged a look. They could see that David, Jon, and Cael were waiting patiently by the gates with their saddled horses, trying to play the role of bored aristocrats indulging their ladies’ fancies. “Look at that fabric over there,” Abby said, pointing to a shop across the bazaar’s courtyard. “Let’s visit that tent.” She took Marisol’s arm and did her best to look excited about the reams of colorful silk. Following dutifully, the guards stood at attention on either side of the tent’s entrance.

  “Look—that has to be the finest embroidery in the kingdom,” Abby said loudly, leading Marisol away from the guards, toward the back of the tent.

  “So,” Marisol whispered. “How long do you think we need to do this before we can leave?”

  “I don’t know,” Abby whispered back. “I suppose we should buy something, though, so we don’t tip them off. We have to look legit, but the sooner we’re out of this city, the better I’ll feel.”

  Marisol nodded. She still looked scared.

  “What is it, Sol?” Abby asked. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

  “I think I did,” Marisol whispered. The color drained from her face. “Back in the palace, I could have sworn I saw the Shadow that chased me the night we left Newcastle Beach.”

  Abby’s mouth gaped open. “Malden? He’s here in the city?”

  “I don’t know for sure that I saw him,” Marisol said, “but I did see the look on Hedeon’s face. Whoever escaped must be dangerous. Why else would he be called away like that?” She clutched Abby’s arm. “What if they captured Malden, but then he escaped, and now he’s coming for me?”

  Abby could feel Marisol trembling. She slipped her arm around her friend’s shoulders. “Don’t worry, Sol. None of us will let him lay a finger on you. If I get my hands on him, I will personally kick his teeth in.”

  Marisol smiled and gave Abby a hug. “Thanks.” Then she raised a finger to her lips. “Shhh—incoming,” she said. She nodded toward the shopkeeper, a small man who looked absolutely radiant about having customers.

  The man bowed with open arms, apparently a sign of respect in this city. “Greetings, dear ladies. How may I be of assistance?”

  Abby favored him with her brightest smile. “Greetings to you, sir. I was interested in the lace you have over there. I wonder how it would go with this.” She held up a bolt of scarlet fabric.

  “I shall fetch it for you,” the shopkeeper smiled. “The lady has very good taste.”

  “That she does,” Marisol said, mirroring Abby’s warm smile. The man scurried away to retrieve several bolts of lace.

  “Sorry I got us into this,” Abby whispered. “I feel ridiculous. Worst idea ever.”

  “Not the worst,” Marisol grinned. “It’s better than hanging out in Vegas with those soul-eater things.”

  “No kidding,” Abby laughed. “But I guess we’ll be seeing them again soon enough. If we ever get out of here. We…” She trailed off when a sudden movement derailed her train of thought. “Hey—did you see that?”

  “What?” Marisol froze, her eyes wide with alarm. “Is it him?”

  “No, it’s okay, it’s not Malden,” Abby quickly clarified. “I thought I saw someone hiding over there, someone who looked human, I mean. See that tapestry? The one with the loom sitting in front of it?”

  Marisol peered at the hanging tapestries lining the back of the tent. “I don’t see anything.”

  “Keep that guy busy for me, would you?” Abby asked, patting Marisol’s shoulder.

  “Sure thing,” Marisol said. She looked anything but sure. The shopkeeper was coming back, his arms full of fabric. “Hey, let me help you with that,” she said with a forced-looking smile. Abby tried to avoid catching his eye as she slipped toward the back.

  “But my lady,” the man said, “I could not impose on you.”

  “I don’t mind,” Marisol said loudly. “Now that I think about it, that the blue silk over there might be better than the scarlet. Red is not really the queen’s color.” Abby saw that Marisol was steering the shopkeeper toward the front of the tent. She looked over her shoulder and nodded at Abby.

  Ah, the fickle whim
s of administrators, Hedeon thought as he followed the page and made his way down the stone steps of the dungeon. Fickle as the weather.

  This was not the first time the Eastern Oracle had sent him on one errand, only to interrupt him mid-task with another demand. Nor was it the first time Hedeon had questioned the oracle’s abilities to lead. The Eastern Oracle put on a good show of authority, as the Solas Beir had witnessed. But in truth, the man seemed rather unstable. He had a nervous facial twitch that he kept under tight control, something only Hedeon and others in the oracle’s inner circle were privy to—and then, only during times of great distress.

  Hedeon remembered first seeing the oracle’s twitch after he delivered a report of a vicious attack on a citizen. The official report stated that the fight between the man and the Kruorumbrae had begun in a pub notorious for drinking and gambling. The truth was the attack was unprovoked and occurred nowhere near said pub, according to witnesses—who were, of course, bribed for their silence.

  Lately that little twitch had surfaced more frequently, and not just within the inner sanctuary of the Eastern Oracle’s chambers where he met with his advisors. And lately it was all Hedeon could do to keep some semblance of order in managing the guards. They were scattered all over the city, sent on strange and unrelated missions. Hedeon had begun hearing about the missions thirdhand from his soldiers, rather than receiving the commands himself and passing them down through the ranks. He found himself out of the official communications loop. The Eastern Oracle was no longer delegating tasks via his council members.

  The court of the Eastern Oracle was in chaos, and silly, paranoid rumors were rampant. And then there was that odd little twitch. Hedeon wondered if his master was on the verge of losing his mind.

  As he reached the bottom of the stone staircase and stepped toward the vestibule in front of the dungeon’s narrow corridor of dark cells, Hedeon saw that his men had already gathered and were waiting for him. In the flickering torch light, he observed that they were outfitted as if going to war, armed to the hilt. A little extreme, he thought, considering the prisoner they were supposed to retrieve.