by John Marco
"What debt?"
"I want Liss to have a part in saving Aramoor. Do you know what I mean?"
"Oh, I see," said Kasrin. "You're talking about Vantran again."
"Please, try to understand," urged Jelena. "Richius helped me. Without him, we couldn't have won Crote. We owe him."
"That's a debt best forgotten, Jelena. I'm sure the Jackal doesn't expect repayment."
"Then it will be a surprise for him." The queen grew adamant. "He gave us Crote, and helped free us from Nar. Now we're going to help him free Aramoor. Like it or not."
"Well I don't like it. I don't need help, and I don't like the idea of your coming with me, either."
"You're being arrogant. You don't know what's out there waiting for you. Do you really think the Black Fleet is going to forget about you? Will the other captains forgive you for killing Nicabar?"
"They don't know what my plans are," said Kasrin. "And even if they did, I could handle them."
Jelena laughed. "The whole Black Fleet? Well, then you must be a hero."
"Don't be nasty."
"I'm just trying to make you see the truth, that's all." Jelena slid closer. "Maybe you're right. Maybe you won't need our help. But I'll feel better if there are other ships, and I have to do this for the Jackal. I have to. Can you understand that?"
Kasrin tried not to look hurt. "I suppose," he said sullenly. "But why do you have to come?"
"Because," said Jelena, taking his hand, "I want to be with you."
"It may be dangerous," he warned. "You might be right about the fleet. I didn't want to tell you that, because I didn't want you to worry. But you're right--they may be lying in wait for me."
"That's why you need protection. And I am not afraid."
No, thought Kasrin. You're not afraid of anything, are you?
"All right, then," he agreed. "But there isn't much time. We set sail the day after tomorrow. If not, we'll never reach Talistan by the first day of summer. Tell your Commander Vares not to dally."
"You can tell him yourself." Jelena motioned to a schooner in the harbor, much closer now and looming large. "That's the Hammerhead."
Kasrin stood up and folded his arms over his chest, a gesture he had seen Nicabar make a thousand times. He had always thought it made Nicabar look impressive. He hoped that Vares was an impressionable man.
THIRTY-NINE
Ten days before the first day of summer, Biagio finally lost heart. His stay in Elkhorn Castle had been restful and eye-opening, but it hadn't been successful. He had spent time with Breena and had begun to learn the value of a simple life. He had expected to be homesick for Nar, but he found the castle remarkably comfortable, and his lungs had been purged of the Black City's peculiar perfume. Best of all, his mind was his own again. Though he still craved the drugs, his cravings were fewer, and his hands no longer shook. Now he had dreams instead of nightmares, and woke up to the unusual music of laughing children, a sound he had once found grating.
Yet despite these many ironies, Biagio knew his mission had failed. He had spent endless days and nights in Redburn's castle, arguing and cajoling, trying to convince the prince that war with Talistan was imminent. Panicked by the news of Tassis Gayle's navy, Biagio had almost begged Redburn for help, telling him that time was running short, and that Richius Vantran would soon arrive with his Triin army. The Jackal would need support; he would need the men of the Eastern Highlands.
Still, Redburn hadn't listened.
And Biagio didn't really blame the prince, for he knew that Redburn was burdened by rulership. Looking at Talistan was like staring down a dragon, and it took remarkable courage not to blink. Redburn wasn't a coward, Biagio knew, but he didn't have the necessary resolve, either. It was a miscalculation that Biagio regretted. There would be no two-front war, no attack on Talistan while Vantran invaded Aramoor. Blair Kasrin and his Dread Sovereign might still open fire on the appointed day, but only half an army would be ready to answer his call. Forlorn, Biagio resigned himself to failure. He would take up his sword against Talistan, somehow. If Vantran would have him, he would join the Triin army in the Iron Mountains. But he wouldn't ride at the head of a Highlander army, and he wouldn't have the forces he needed to win. Together with the Jackal of Nar and the reckless Captain Kasrin, he would fight--and he would lose.
On a typically pleasant afternoon, filled with sunlight and barking dogs, the emperor set out in search of Breena. He had news for the woman and wanted to deliver it personally. He was attracted to her and he knew it, and the yearning was irksome, for he was a man who had always gotten what he desired, either by gold or by command. But Breena was unattainable. On some nights, Biagio was lonely. Often he thought of taking Breena to his bed the way he had the men and women on Crote. But he didn't want to buy her affections with favors. And because he knew he could only have her friendship, he never pursued more. He merely spent time with her and let her teach him things he desperately needed to know. In his short time in the Highlands, Breena had been his tutor. Though Arkus had taught him about power and glory, Breena taught him about sunrises.
This afternoon, the sun was remarkably hot. It was very close to summer now, and Biagio was dressed in an itchy Highland ensemble. A servant girl directed him to the rose garden. Biagio had seen the rose garden only once, but he remembered that his Cretan gardeners were desperately needed at Elkhorn. He thanked the girl and went out into the yard, passing under a broken archway to the south side of the castle, where the sun was strongest and merciless to Breena's feeble vines. It was very quiet; Biagio immediately detected the sound of Breena's spade. He followed the noise and soon discovered her on her knees, digging. A tangle of half-dead rose bushes sprouted randomly around her, reaching for a teetering trestle. Breena looked sweaty and frustrated. She didn't notice Biagio until his shadow blocked her light.
"Oh!" she said, surprised. She drew a dirty hand across her brow.
"Hello."
"Good afternoon," replied Biagio. "Am I disturbing you?"
"No. Well, yes. I've got my hands full, I'm afraid. I'm trying to get the roses ready for summer. You're not handy with flowers, are you?"
"Not particularly," said Biagio. He ran his hand over one of the sickly plants, carefully avoiding the thorns. "I think you need more than my help, anyway."
"You're right. My father used to take care of the roses. They were his favorite. But they were a lot of work. When he died, they sort of went with him. I didn't keep up with them very well."
"You had a lot on your mind, I'm sure."
"I still do." Breena eyed Biagio suspiciously. "You're in one of your moods again, when you don't say much. You get very quiet when you have something on your mind."
"Do I?"
"Stop it."
Biagio chuckled. "You are right. I have been thinking about things. That's why I must speak to you."
The young woman lowered her spade. "I don't like the sound of that. Is something wrong?"
Suddenly Biagio didn't know how to answer. Her eyes were on him, wide with a worry he hadn't expected. "I am going," he said flatly. "In the morning."
"Going? Where?"
"I'm leaving, Breena. I've spent enough time here. Some of it has been wasted, I'm afraid. But not all of it."
"Lord Emperor, this is unexpected." Breena got up and brushed the dirt from her knees. "Does my brother know you're leaving?"
"No, but I'm going to tell him. I just wanted to tell you first."
"But why? You told me you'd be staying, at least until the first day of summer."
"Forgive me, Lady Breena, but I was wrong. I thought I could convince your brother to help me. Unfortunately, I was mistaken. Your brother is a stubborn man. But I won't waste any more time with him. I will leave for the Iron Mountains on the morrow."
"The Iron Mountains? Oh, no, my lord, that's too dangerous. You cannot go alone."
"I must," said Biagio. "Richius Vantran and his Triin army will be arriving soon. I should be there to m
eet them." A little anger crept into his tone. "Since there is nothing more for me to do here anyway, I will be on my way."
"First of all," said Breena, "you don't know that Vantran will be coming, and you certainly don't know that he'll bring any Triin. And secondly, if you go into the mountains you could be killed. There are Aramoorian freedom fighters in the Irons. If they discover you, they'll cut your heart out."
Biagio crossed his arms. "I can take care of myself. I am Roshann, remember. I do not fear some unwashed rabble."
"No? Well you should. And how will you get to the mountains? Unless you take a boat, the only way to the Irons is through Talistan."
"I know that," said Biagio. "It will be difficult but I am crafty. And there are still some Roshann agents in the Highlands. Perhaps some of them will help me. Either way, I will reach the mountains and be there when Vantran arrives."
Breena frowned at him. "You're angry with me," she observed. "Don't deny it, because I can tell when you lie. But you've no right to be."
"I don't know what you're talking about," Biagio lied.
"Oh, yes, you do," said Breena. "You wanted me to convince my brother to help you, and now you're angry because I didn't. Isn't that so?"
"It might be."
" 'Tis! But you don't listen very well, my lord. I've already explained it to you, a dozen times. My brother's not going to join your war because he doesn't believe in it. And neither do I."
"No? Well, you'll believe it soon enough when Talistan starts rolling its troops into the Highlands. I say again, Lady Breena--your brother is a fool for turning a blind eye."
"He's no fool," said Breena.
"He is. And so are you."
Angrily, he turned to go. Breena muttered a curse. Biagio felt a sudden pain ricochet through his back.
"Damn it," he yelled, whirling to glare at her. The stone she had thrown lay at his feet. "How dare you strike me!"
Breena's face was furious. "I should hit you in the head next time, maybe knock some sense into you!"
"Pick up another stone and I will throttle you."
Go ahead," taunted Breena. "That's how you deal with everyone, isn't it, Biagio? Have them killed?"
"Watch your tongue!"
"Why did you come here?" Breena asked. "Did you come to make me feel guilty for not helping you? Or to tell me you were leaving?"
"I am leaving," bristled Biagio. "I simply came to give you the courtesy of an explanation--something you obviously don't deserve."
"Fine, then. Go," said Breena. "Go and look for Vantran and his Triin. Go and fulfill your sick fantasy."
"It's not a fantasy. The Triin--"
"Do you really think Richius Vantran is going to help you? Do you really think the Triin will help you? God in heaven, if you think that, you must truly be mad."
The insult made Biagio's insides clench. "Do not call me that," he said. "Ever."
"But you are mad, don't you see? How can you think this plan of yours will work? Richius Vantran isn't going to help you. There are no Triin coming, my lord. There never were." Breena gave him a pitying look. "I'm sorry, Lord Emperor. But you're not well. You can't be; not if you believe this fantasy."
"Is that what you truly think? That I'm insane?"
The young woman nodded. "Yes, I do."
For Biagio, her admission was heartbreaking. He closed his eyes, hating himself, realizing suddenly that all Breena's smiles had been a lie. She thought he was insane--just like the rest of the wretched world.
"I am a fool," he whispered. "I thought you had seen the change in me. I thought you believed. I am not insane, Lady Breena. I am free of the drug and all its effects. Stupidly, I had thought you part of my recovery."
"My lord, I'm sorry . . ."
"You let me waste my time thinking Redburn was afraid. And all the while he simply thought me a madman."
"He is afraid," Breena insisted. "He doesn't want war with Talistan. He wants peace."
"But he doesn't believe me," jeered Biagio. "He doesn't think my plan will work."
"There are no Triin, my lord," repeated Breena. "No one is coming to help you."
Biagio knew he could do nothing to change her mind. Like so many of his subjects, she still remembered the man he had been, the rampaging Count of Crote, and no amount of arguing could persuade her otherwise. Suddenly he felt profoundly alone.
"You will get better blooms if you trim back the extra limbs," he said.
"What?"
"Your roses," said Biagio. "Those scraggly shoots steal water and sunlight from the better parts of the plant. Prune them back and you'll do better."
Breena smiled grimly. "So you're going?"
"Yes, "said Biagio, "I am."
Before Breena could argue, Biagio raised a silencing finger. He smiled, then turned and left the garden. As he walked off he could feel her stare on his back, almost sensing her pity. Biagio clenched his teeth. Pity was an emotion he detested.
Quickly he went back to the courtyard, scanning the field for Redburn. On the morrow he would leave Elkhorn Castle, but not before making one final appeal.
Prince Redburn tossed a coin to his stable boy, Kian, thanking him for his good work. His favorite latapi, the white elk called Racer, had been immaculately brushed and tacked for his afternoon ride, and Redburn was in a giving mood, anticipating the solitude of the hills. Breena was off gardening, Biagio was somewhere in the castle, and the bright sun beckoned to the prince, wooing him away from the crowded keep. Kian was an excellent hand and the latapi respected him. Someday he would run the stables.
The boy beamed at the unexpected coin. "Thank you, my lord. Will you be riding alone?" "Oh, yes."
"Are you gonna patrol the Silverknife?"
Redburn's exuberance deflated. "Now why would you ask that?" "No reason," said Kian. "Just wondering." "Why? Are you worried?"
"No, sir," said the boy, but Redburn knew he was lying. "I heard some of the older boys talking, that's all."
"Don't believe everything you hear, Kian." Redburn took Racer's bridle and led him out of the stables. "There's nothing to worry about." "Have a good ride, my lord."
Redburn didn't like the youngsters worrying. But he decided to ignore it, at least for the afternoon, and let the perfect day clear his head. He would ride to the latapi valley, he decided, and watch the calves with their mothers. Today, he would get away from the castle and all his responsibilities.
Racer stood very still as Redburn climbed into the saddle. The prince drew a breath, smelling the pine-scented air. He was about to ride off when he saw a figure hurrying toward him. Redburn's mood curdled.
"Oh, no . . ."
Biagio was coming, his face determined. "Redburn, wait," he called. "I want to talk to you."
"Not now," snapped the prince. "I'm busy."
"This can't wait." Biagio raced up to him and took the elk's bridle.
"It's important."
Redburn rolled his eyes. "With you, everything is important. Now let go. I don't have time for this."
"Make time. I want to talk to you--now."
"About Talistan."
"That's right."
Redburn tugged the reins, making Racer swish his antlers. Alarmed, Biagio released the beast.
"We have nothing further to say to each other, Lord Emperor. I've heard all I care to about Talistan."
He trotted away, but Biagio jogged up alongside him.
"Don't dash off, Redburn," called Biagio. "You'll be rid of me in the morning, but I need to speak with you before I go."
Redburn brought Racer to a halt. "Go?" he asked. "You're leaving?"
"In the morning, yes. Unless I can convince you to change your mind."
"Good-bye, then," quipped Redburn. "And good luck."
"Redburn, listen to me," pleaded the emperor. "I am not insane."
"I never said you were."
"Yes, you did," said Biagio. "When I first came here. But I thought I had convinced you otherwise. Now--before I go
--I want one more chance. Listen to me, that's all I'm asking. If I can't convince you to help me, I'll leave in the morning."
"I'm going riding," replied Redburn. "I'm sorry, Lord Emperor, but I've already listened to you. I've made up my mirid."
"But I'm not wrong! My plan will work!"
"Good day, Emperor," said Redburn, once again flicking the reins and propelling his mount forward. The emperor called out after him.
"I'm coming with you!"
"No, you're not!" replied Redburn hotly.
But Biagio was already racing toward the stable. Redburn cursed and sped his elk on, heading for the hills. With luck he would lose the emperor before Biagio could find a horse. But luck wasn't with Redburn today, and soon he saw Biagio behind him, galloping in pursuit. Redburn's growl became an angry bellow.
"Go away!"
Whether or not Biagio heard him didn't matter. The emperor was speeding after him. Redburn hurried his latapi on, entering the hills and the winding, dirt roadway. Behind him he heard the thunder of Biagio's approach, but Racer was a stouthearted beast and the latapi leapt forward with uncanny speed.
"I see you, Redburn!" came Biagio's distant voice. "You can't get away!"
"Then maybe you'll break your fool neck," shouted Redburn in reply. He kicked his heels into Racer's flanks, prodding the beast on faster. Racer lowered his rack and plunged deeper into the hills, taking the path with surefooted swiftness. Redburn couldn't help enjoying the chase. He looked behind him. Biagio was keeping pace with remarkable skill.
The prince laughed. "Come on, Biagio!" he taunted. "Show me what a man you are!"
They went over hills, skidded across shoals, then sped through a brook, sending spray up like a geyser, and still Biagio kept pace, tucking himself into a crouch and prodding his mount onward. Redburn flew along the path, sometimes leaving it entirely, but the emperor's tenacity kept him hot on the latapi's tail. Remarkably, he was even gaining ground. Beneath him, Redburn felt Racer begin to tire. Impressed and defeated, Redburn finally drew up the reins and ordered the beast to slow. Within moments, Biagio's lathered horse galloped up alongside him.