Master William’s son, Jake, looked surprised to see them both up and looking at him, but quickly caught his breath. “You must leave, now!” Jake exclaimed. “They are coming for you!”
Blakstar was out of bed and dropping his chain shirt over his shoulders before Jake had caught his breath or fully entered their room; Thal still sat gaping, stunned from the disembodied voice he had just heard, trying to process the words that she, he suddenly realized, had said.
The kortexi belted on his sword, then stooped to pull on his boots. “How did they find out?” he asked.
“Wha-huh?” Thal stuttered as the kortexi finished his question.
Jake looked for a moment at Thal, surprised by the white maghi’s stuttering. He turned to Blakstar, who was also looking at Thal.
Blakstar stepped closer to his companion and put one of his large hands gently on Thal’s shoulder. “Are you all right?” he asked Thal.
The white maghi shrank back from the kortexi’s touch, as if startled by it; Thal turned and picked up his own belt with its many pouches then stood and wrapped it around his robe at his waist, buckling it into place. His movements were mechanical.
Blakstar raised an eyebrow, shrugged, then turned back to Jake.
“Father reckons one of the nobility,” Jake replied, “after being healed, went straight from the inn to the garrison commander and reported your activities.”
“How much time do we have?” Blakstar asked, still watching Thal, as the white maghi slipped his rod into his belt and picked up his saddle and tack.
“Barely enough to get you out of here,” Jake answered.
Blakstar picked up his own saddle and nodded to Thal. “How do we get out of the city?” he asked.
“Old Melnar will lead you to a warehouse in the west quarter,” Jake whispered as he led them down the hall, holding a lantern up to light their way. “There is a way to leave the city from there.” He led them quickly down the stairs, through the kitchen, out of the back door, and into the stables where Blakstar threw his saddle onto his steed’s back. Jake hung the lantern on a peg by the door and looked at Thal, who had stopped lost in thought just inside the stable. When Jake noticed Thal standing by the door, he went and took the saddle from the white maghi and threw it onto Thal’s mare.
When Blakstar finished cinching his own saddle in place, he glanced at Thal, then went to check on Jake. “This front strap has to be tighter,” he noted after leaning over, “horses will inhale more air while you are cinching the straps to keep you from getting them tight enough.” He slapped the mare’s side, then, when her belly shrank, pulled the strap a little tighter. The mare swished her tail at him and stamped her feet.
“I never knew,” Jake admitted, looking surprised.
Blakstar grinned. “Horses can tell when an inexperienced person handles them,” he noted, patting the mare’s neck, “then they pull out all their tricks, and you’ll end up on your bottom in a dung heap, or worse.” He scratched Thal’s mare between the ears; she responded with a look of wide-eyed innocence that made them both laugh. “Now, where is this Melnar?” Blakstar asked.
“Out the back way,” Jake replied. “Jon is watching the square in front of the inn; father is with Melnar.”
Blakstar nodded and moved toward Thal; the white maghi had not moved but stood with his face and mouth working.
“Something wrong?” Blakstar asked.
Thal opened his mouth, but no words emerged immediately. After a moment he shook his head, closed his mouth, and moved toward the stable’s back door but stumbled into his mare.
Blakstar took his elbow to stabilize him. “Are you sure you are all right?” he asked. “Maybe you should ride while I lead your mare,” he suggested.
Anger flashed in Thal’s eyes, then died as quickly as it appeared; he nodded once and leaned against his mare as Jake opened the door enough to lead his mare out; the kortexi followed.
Melnar’s clear blue eyes sparkled as he turned toward them. “We must hurry,” he hissed. He turned back to Master William. “We need Jake to go with us as far as the warehouse,” he whispered to William, “to cover the trap door after we three enter.”
William nodded then turned to his son and grabbed both his shoulders. “Be careful,” he whispered, “and do whatever Melnar tells you to, you hear me?”
Jake looked down and nodded. “I will, father.”
William released him and opened a sack at his feet, taking out leather boots for the horses’ hooves, passing them around. “Quickly, these will muffle the sounds on the cobblestone,” he noted.
When the boots were in place, Melnar led them out of the back gate; Blakstar walking beside him leading his warhorse, and Jake leading Thal’s mare, with the white maghi still looking perplexed, sitting astride the saddle. They heard a soft whistle, like the sound of a bird.
“That’s Jon,” Jake whispered.
“Go! Quickly!” William hissed, then he turned and entered the inn’s back door.
“We’ll need to distract the guard there,” Melnar whispered, pointing. One of the local soldiers paced in front of a merchant’s shop down the street from the warehouse. “They tell me he was recently added, by request of the merchant, who is a good friend of our thukro; a thief was running from the soldiers and hid on the rooftops. As he tried to crawl around the back side of the merchant’s building, to escape the soldiers combing the streets below in search of him, a weak section of the roof gave way, and he tumbled into the warehouse part of the building, knocked unconscious by the fall. The merchant was away on business, he claims, and the thief did not awaken until the next day, when one of the servants discovered him lying on a stack of sacks, filled with ruined wheat. The servant’s scream awakened the thief, who ran for his life, but the merchant claimed that the thief had purposely broken through the roof of his warehouse, leaked bodily fluids onto the wheat, ruining the entire shipment. He claimed the wheat a loss, received compensation from the Fereghen’s coffers for the wheat, then turned around and sold the wheat, doubling his profits.” Melnar shook his head. “Typical of how things work in this town.”
He turned to Jake, then whispered to him. Jake nodded, then melted into the darkness between the buildings.
“What did you send him to do?” Blakstar asked in a low voice.
“Sent him to throw a few stones onto the back of the merchant’s warehouse,” Melnar replied with a smile.
“Near where the thief fell through the roof?” Blakstar asked.
Melnar nodded. “All we need is enough time to get across the street and into the warehouse with your horses.”
“What is that place?” Thal asked, pointing to a tavern across from the merchant’s place. Thal had recovered slightly.
“Do you mean that inn, The Green Beast?” Melnar asked.
Blakstar looked to where Thal had pointed and noticed the placard hanging above the door, the green, familiar looking figure just visible in the flickering light of a lantern hanging over it. He looked back at Thal, who nodded to Melnar.
“It has a foul reputation,” Melnar said, “for cheap ale and missing persons.”
“What do you mean?” Thal asked.
Before Melnar could answer, they heard thumping sounds and saw the lone guard move quickly around the side of the merchant’s building. “Let’s go,” Melnar hissed, leaving the shadows between the buildings, where they were hidden, and hurrying across the street toward the warehouse; Blakstar and Thal followed, leading their mounts. By the time they reached the other side, Melnar had opened the larger front door allowing them to lead their horses inside; he pulled it hurriedly shut behind them. They waited in silence for a time to be sure no one had seen them, then Melnar moved to the back of the large warehouse past stacked crates to a place that appeared to be for loading and unloading large cargo from wagons. A block and tackle was attached to a beam overhead that could move up and down a track. Melnar took a large hook from one of the upright support beams, which was attached
to the rope that ran up through the pulley and tackle system, then he hooked it to a large ring in the floor halfway between two of the side support beams. He moved to a second side support beam, directly beneath the crossbeam to which the center pulley was attached and pointed to the support beam opposite.
“Go pull that lever,” he said in a low voice, “it will, with this one, lock the crossbeam into place and allow us to open the door.”
“For someone who was blind until yesterday,” Thal noted while Blakstar went and pulled the other lever at the same time as Melnar pulled his, “you know quite a lot.”
Melnar grinned back at him. “Of all people, white maghi, you should know best that blind eyes do not blind the mind.”
They heard a door behind them open and close quickly. Blakstar reached for his sword even as Thal drew his rod, but it was only the innkeeper’s son, and both wethem relaxed.
Thal nodded to Melnar. “You are quite correct,” he said, “I do know that.”
“Blakstar,” Melnar said, “you should start turning that wheel behind you.”
The kortexi turned and saw the large wheel that would turn a series of gears and pulleys and lift the floor section that was the trap door. “Won’t that cause an awful lot of noise?” he asked.
“It would not be much of an escape route if it did,” Melnar replied.
Blakstar grabbed the handle on the vertical wheel and started to turn it; silently, the wheel turned ever faster, and the floor began slowly to rise. Thal led their horses over to where the trap door rose, so that he could lead them down into the caverns as soon as there was enough space.
Melnar looked around and whispered to Jake. “Go bar the doors.”
The boy nodded and scurried off between the crates to do as instructed. Melnar took a lantern from the wall, lit it, then ducked his head and started down into the darkness. As Jake returned, Thal led their two horses down the wide ramp and into the cavern below; the stench of sewage assailed him, so he hastily covered his mouth and nose with his hood.
“Not again,” Thal’s voice was muffled by the robe.
“The caverns are connected to the city’s sewers,” Melnar noted, handing him the lantern. “I’m guessing that is how these caverns were discovered.” Melnar climbed back up the ramp, and Blakstar came down a moment later.
“Where’s Melnar?” Thal asked.
“Helping Jake to close the trap door,” Blakstar said. “What happened to you back at the inn?” he asked.
Thal swallowed hard. “Right before Jake came, I . . . ,” he paused, looking around, “I heard a voice.”
“From another room?” the kortexi asked.
Thal shook his head. “Of course not!” he snapped. “That would not bother me; I could not discover the source of the voice. I first heard it inside . . . ,” he hesitated, “inside my mind, I mean, your mind.”
The kortexi’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
“You were having a nightmare,” Thal went on, swallowing and blushing, “well, one dream and a nightmare, and I wanted to see what it was, to see if I could help, somehow; it’s one of my gifts, you know.”
Blakstar’s face went white.
“I thought I might be able to dispel the nightmare,” Thal tried to explain, “but I need to know what it is before I can fix the pattern of your mind so that it won’t recur; I couldn’t discern one from the other, and before I could act someone else–someone came and stopped me–the voice–and she told me that the hunt was on, for us, the chosen, that Elker, I think that was the name she said, was at that moment sending his minions to take us. I wonder if she means Gar?” he asked himself. “Anyway, she also said that we were given the means to travel instantly from place to place to protect us from those who would capture and destroy us, and that we should use it to travel rather than the slow way, by horse, I suppose.” Thal noticed that Blakstar had not moved or spoken, and he knew that he should not have spoken of it. “I’m sorry,” he said, “I should not have looked into your mind; I only wanted to help.” He reached out to clasp the kortexi’s shoulder, but Blakstar pulled away, turned, and led his horse away from the ramp and Thal, stopping just at the edge of the lantern’s glow.
Thal sank where he was and waited for Melnar; neither gave any heed to the sounds of the caverns: the constant, echoed dripping of water, the clink of stone against stone, the muffled sounds of distant voices. After a few minutes, Melnar entered the opening and waited above until the door fully closed. He clambered down the ramp and looked at his two charges: one sitting on the ground near him, one standing in the distance at the edge of the light.
“What are the two of you sulking about?” Melnar asked, looking from one to the other.
Blakstar spoke without turning. “He admitted prying into my mind while I was sleeping,” he spoke in a cold voice. “I doubt that it is the first time he has spied on someone else’s thoughts. . . .”
Before he could say more, Thal interrupted him. “I would never . . . ,” he exclaimed, jumping to his feet, his face mottled, “have never spied on anyone’s mind! I have repaired broken, unraveling minds to save someone’s life without asking permission. . . .”
Blakstar turned and interrupted Thal. “I heard what she said to you,” he noted, voice getting louder, “she said you should not have been there, which means you were spying, and my mind was not unraveling!”
Thal’s mouth fell open, and he felt again the waves of guilt he experienced inside the kortexi’s mind and knew he was guilty; Blakstar’s voice echoed around the cavern, finally dying and leaving them in silence. Melnar, stronger than he appeared, grabbed the stunned maghi by the front of his robes and dragged him toward the unmoving kortexi, who he also grabbed and dragged toward him as soon as he was within reach of Melnar’s free arm.
“Have you two lost your wits?” Melnar hissed. “You’re worse than my two sons when teen-aged,” he stopped and looked around.
“What is it?” Blakstar whispered.
“Someone’s coming,” Melnar said, then he looked around again, “and more, from all around us.”
“Melnar?” a voice queried that sounded vaguely familiar, “is that you?”
“Billy?” Melnar whispered in the direction of the voice, the direction he had first looked.
“The same,” the voice replied, and a figure stepped into the light of the lantern, a nearly perfect but younger image of Master William; he stepped forward and clasped Melnar’s hand. “The watch has breached the caverns,” he hissed, and his voice sounded much like his father’s.
“I see now,” Thal said, “why your father did not want to send Blakstar to find you.”
Billy grinned and nodded.
“Is there no way to get these two out of the city?” Melnar asked.
“No,” Billy shook his head, “we’ll be lucky if we can get them out of the caverns to a safe house.”
“If we don’t leave here, right now,” Melnar added, looking in the direction of the sounds.
“Can you lead them away from us?” Blakstar asked.
Melnar looked at Billy and then shrugged. “Maybe for a short time,” Melnar said, “but you cannot find the way out.”
“We have our own way of leaving,” Blakstar noted, “if you give us some time.”
“How much?” Melnar asked.
“A minute ought to be enough,” the kortexi replied.
“Seriously?” Melnar asked.
Blakstar and Thal both nodded.
Melnar turned to Billy. “Which way should they go?”
Billy pointed. “If they move behind the ramp, back toward the center of town, we can lead them away.”
Thal picked up and handed the lantern to Melnar, who put out the light.
“May the One go with you,” Melnar whispered as the two of them left.
Thal mumbled a word, touched his own forehead, then touched Blakstar’s forehead; the white maghi smiled when he heard his companion’s sharp intake of breath.
�
�What did you do?” Blakstar hissed.
“Gave you pelwideno,” Thal whispered back, “which enables you to see in the lower light levels, the way some predators do.” He started in the direction Billy had indicated, moving carefully over the uneven floor. They could now see a fair distance in all directions and see the outlines of rocky pillars supporting the ceiling and the natural galleries going off all around them, but what they saw were shades of black, blue, and violet, dim and dark. What caught both their views were the blinding and flickering points of many torches moving toward them. “We’ve got to move,” Thal whispered, “and quickly.”
Both light and sound grew as the soldiers approached; they led their horses quickly around the ramp and found that this gallery sloped downward, and the stench of the sewers increased. Thal pulled his hood more tightly about his mouth and nose, glad that it had been many hours since they had supped. Once the passage descended and turned far enough, they stopped and looked back, listening and watching for any soldier who might have turned aside to scout this gallery. The muffled sounds of voices and marching feet suddenly changed to shouts and the clash of arms. Blakstar handed his reins to Thal and slid his sword slowly from its sheath as he moved a few steps up the way they had come. The muffled sounds of a skirmish continued but did not grow louder as if some were coming closer. Blakstar turned and came back.
“Where will we go?” Thal whispered. “Is there somewhere safe inside of Karble. . . .”
Blakstar cut him off. “We cannot enter that way,” he noted.
Thal snorted. “Of course we can,” he said, “just think of a safe place. . . .”
“No,” the kortexi interrupted him again, “we must enter the city with the rising of the sun, after performing the peuaritum. Entry at any other time is forbidden.”
“We don’t have time . . . ,” Thal started to say but stopped and looked up, when both of them heard the sound they feared: someone coming down the passage.
Blakstar held his sword ready, then relaxed when he recognized the form of Melnar.
The Redemption, Volume 1 Page 78