Kora shook her head, slowly, firmly, from the spot where she stood in the doorway. The realization that they were on their own began to settle on the group.
“You’re here,” said Neslan. “That’s enough.”
Hayden deserted his greens. “So what happened?” he asked. “If you weren’t hashing out details with the general, what kept you?”
“Later,” said Bennie. “She’s white as a sheet. Kora, come here, you should sit.”
Kora joined the others in a circle on the floor, dragging her feet. Her head was spinning. “I tried,” she said. “I tried everything. I told him about Zalski’s stones, I…. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” said Neslan.
You don’t know what I almost did to that guard.
Laskenay’s lips thinned. “Are you certain you’re not in trouble? Did Argint threaten you?”
“It’s not Argint that’s got me…. I’m a little spooked, that’s all. I wasn’t expecting company.” Kora sighed, her hand on her forehead. “And now I have to explain. I’ll just worry you all if I don’t.”
Lanokas told her not to rush, and she followed his advice. Taking pauses, some close to a minute when she needed nothing less to find her voice, she recounted what had passed in Argint’s office. The tale filled Neslan with chagrin, the prince with smoldering ire. Hayden listened in a daze, while Bendelof’s eyes grew to cover her entire face. Kora could not look at her; she knew the girl was imagining her Zalski’s prisoner, enduring the fear that, of all present, only Bendelof had known. Laskenay sat tight-lipped and somber. Somber, she always was somber these days. When Kora reached the point where she finally left the office, she made it seem as though she had come straight to Wheatfield.
Bendelof placed a comforting hand on Kora’s, which was still off-color. Lanokas told Laskenay, “We should never have let her go. She’s been doing too much. She was already at the breaking point, and now this.”
“I’m not broken, damn you! I’m not a weapon or a tool you’ve worn down!”
Lanokas insisted, “Someone else should have gone to Argint.”
Laskenay’s dull tones broke up the argument. “I should have gone, that’s obvious enough now. I’m not making excuses, Kora, but I thought we were doing the best thing, sending you in my place.”
“You were,” said Kora. “You’d be dead right now. There’s no way Argint would have hidden you. He only hid me because I spared him in Hogarane. He would have felt uneasy, turning me over after that. Really, we’re lucky it was me there. I wasn’t expecting Zalski, is all. I definitely didn’t expect to be trapped like that, without magic. I’ve grown dependent on my spells, more than I realized.”
Hayden sat rigid, his eyes glassy. He had not so much as tapped a finger since Kora mentioned the sorcerer’s arrival. Now he said, “I can’t believe the General didn’t kill you. I just can’t fathom it. Zalski’s general?”
“He considered killing me, he had to.”
“So who is this man?” asked Hayden. “Seriously, he makes no sense.”
Lanokas said, “Not all who work for Zalski have no scruples. You know that.”
“Yeah, but generally the higher-ups share his ideals.”
Neslan said, “There’s one thing that puzzles me more than Argint. Only one. And that’s where the hell we’re going to go now.”
“Go?” said Bennie. “We’re gonna leave?”
“We have to, don’t we? Maybe not this second, but soon. I’ll bet anything the guard’s working its way north, bit by bit, and by this point we’ve established a presence in Fontferry.” Neslan turned to Kora. “I know you told us everything you remember. There’s no chance you passed something over? Did you hear something, anything, that could give us a clue where Malzin’s men are?”
Kora shook her head. “Argint was careful. Flawless. The one time Zalski nearly let it slip, he stopped him. He even made sure to comment he wouldn’t stop searching Yangerton, because Yangerton, well, he’d mentioned they already cleared it.”
Lanokas narrowed his eyes. “So was he warning you the city isn’t safe? Or keeping us rootless, flushed in the open?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. I don’t imagine he said anything to help us, though.”
Laskenay agreed. “So, do we keep on at Wheatfield? Or do we change location?”
The decision to stay, at least for the moment, was unanimous. If the guard arrived, within hours they would learn their game was in the vicinity, that was true. But the League would need mere minutes to transport out of harm’s way.
“And if they don’t announce their presence?” said Lanokas. “I doubt they’ll march into the village wearing uniforms. They’re hoping to surprise us.”
Laskenay’s voice was soft. “We have three weeks, Lanokas, maybe two and half before we’re destitute. Your brother took Rone’s money. We have Hayden’s winnings, nothing else. And I won’t let you gamble again,” she said, as Hayden tried to speak. “We can’t risk what funds we have. We can’t risk you, you were nearly attacked last time.”
A knot formed in Kora’s throat. “So we, we’re taking action in three weeks? Going after the Palace?”
“Argint was right about one thing,” said Laskenay. “We’re desperate. But we aren’t just any six desperate people. We have the possibility—albeit a small one—of ending Zalski’s reign. Should we not, rest assured the good people of Podrar won’t forget what we attempted. Nor will my….” Laskenay’s voice cracked. “Nor will my brother.”
“Well-spoken,” said Neslan.
“Three weeks,” said Kora. She rose. “I’m sorry, I’m sure you want to start planning. You should start planning, but right now I need some air. I’m going to the river. I don’t know how long I’ll be, so don’t wait. When I come back, I’ll be fifty times more able to contribute. Right now, I….”
Neslan motioned for her to hush. “No one thinks you’re being selfish.”
“Go,” Bennie told her. “And don’t rush back, don’t deprive yourself of a second if you need it.” Kora nodded, weakly, and left the barn.
The clouds above the river threatened rain, though the day had been dry. Kora, invisible, climbed into the lower branches of an oak along the bank. From the spot where she settled, she could just make out Teena’s inn across the water. A chill wind blew, but Kora did not mind; she just pulled her tattered cloak close around her.
Kora had always felt at home in trees, felt safe, removed from, lifted above, the stresses of her life. Here, the pounding of three weeks over and over inside her chest—her heart yelled it in time with its beat—pained her less.
She had barely escaped with her life from Argint’s office. One word from him, one nod in her direction, and Zalski would have found her. Kora grew faint just remembering, and dug her nails in the tree, leaned back against the trunk to steady herself. How much longer could she expect her luck to hold? Not through an ambush. Not through another chance encounter.
Which was precisely why, she told herself, her next encounter with Zalski could not come by chance. She relaxed her grip on the branch that supported her. She started to appreciate that, come what may, the fight would be over in less than a month. No more wondering who would die next, or when the guard would discover the League. No more waiting for Zalski to learn a new trick that had the potential to damn them all. Even if the League did fail, Kora might lose her life in the struggle and not be captured. That would be a victory in itself; it would anger Zalski, prevent his revenge.
Except that—Kora clutched the branch again—her dying would do nothing of the sort, if he had her body. If he made her corpse a public display. Were Zacry to hear of that, were her mother, God forbid, to see it….
Kora realized her leg was swinging, and she let it hang limp. Her foot went numb.
I don’t know that Zalski would…. No. No, there’s no use thinking of this. It’s beyond my control. I don’t have the energy, the time. I have to make sure this attack is an honest opportunity, that’s what I h
ave to do. I can’t distract myself.
Kora glanced at the sky, to see it was starting to clear. The wind was moving the clouds along, and the edge of the front had appeared. Staring at the patch of blue, Kora felt her confidence wax.
She needed to keep moving, that was all. Like the clouds. She could not let her fears paralyze her. Bennie, Neslan, Lanokas, they were all afraid, but they would not stop their forward progress. They would not dwell on mothers, or brothers, on tortures and executions. They would plan the assault that would give them a chance for survival, all else aside, and Kora would join them in their task.
I can do this. I can focus on this last objective. Where Mother is, what to do about Lanokas, the soldiers at home—those damn soldiers!—the time will come to worry about that, if we succeed. If we don’t succeed, well, then I won’t have to bother, I won’t be able to bother. But I’ll know I prepared the best I could.
Kora took one long, deep breath, and then another. They did her good. She had not breathed freely all day, not all week, if truth be told. Her nerves had been too taut anticipating her tête-à-tête with Argint. Well, she had failed in that, failed dismally, but her heart still beat, if only to risk itself once more in three weeks’ time.
Clearing her mind, focusing on respiration, Kora found some measure of peace, a peace that even took the nip from the air as her thoughts, before she could stop them, returned to one word, one name. Her numbed foot stole the wind’s sting; its feeling returned painfully.
Lanokas.
Indefensible, illogical, the sense of security he gave her. Even dangerous; he had no great powers against an army, or a sorcerer. Imagining otherwise was worse than fantasy, it was folly, and would lead to a number of deaths besides her own. Except that…. No, Kora held no delusions he could protect her. But his words steadied her anyway, and his touch gave her strength, almost as much as Sedder’s had. The thought of the guard torturing Lanokas ate at her, had been gnawing at her confidence, unrecognized, since Laskenay first mentioned a final stand.
Kora loved him. There seemed small use denying it; what he had done for Zacry the week before had done her in. Her fears did not concern the king Herezoth stood to lose. No, she cared what Lanokas would lose, not blue blood but a life’s blood as crimson as anyone’s. If Kora cursed his birth, it was not only because Zalski hunted him for his name. The prince’s station would drive him from her in victory, as death would do in failure. If only she knew what awaited him, could guarantee he would not suffer!
Zalski might take pity on the others. There’s at least a chance he’ll kill them quickly, but not Lanokas, and not me. Definitely not me. He’s determined to break us first, I know he is, and we’re going to walk right up to him.
Because we have to. I know we have to, there’s no other way.
If he is to die, God, if you can’t, or won’t, save him, at least don’t let them torture him. Please, I know they’ll try. You owe me something, God. If you’re putting me through this, I’m sorry, but you damn well owe me something!
And so Kora prayed to the Giver as she had never prayed in her life. She prayed for the League and its success, for her mother and brother, for Laskenay’s son, for herself. She prayed for the souls of those she had lost. She confronted the worst that might lie ahead, and three hours later, after the sun sank, she knew she could imprison her demons even if she could not slay them. She could hold them at bay and devote her energy fully to the League’s last mission. It was time to return to Wheatfield.
* * *
Kora returned to the river a week later, though she went to the opposite bank. This time Hayden and Lanokas joined her to wash clothes and fetch water.
The last seven days had dragged on even longer than preparing for Argint had: group consultations, strategy sessions, study sessions of maps that Lanokas spent the first days drawing, they were never-ending. Kora, who had never been able to stand doing laundry—especially in Fontferry, because of the time it took to find an unoccupied, secluded spot—Kora found herself volunteering for the task, just to escape from the barn. The three Leaguesmen had been washing for fifteen minutes, too tired to really talk, when Kora realized how intently Lanokas stared at the current while he scrubbed a couple of tunics. She knelt beside him with a dress to wash; Hayden was filling buckets some yards upstream.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked.
“Nothing in particular.”
Kora cocked an eyebrow. “You’ve been pretty focused,” she said.
“Exactly. On not thinking.” Not thinking about what, she asked, and he answered, “You’re not going to leave me be, are you?” He threw the laundered shirts on the grass. Kora laid them flat and handed him another.
“Please talk to me. You’ve listened to me rant times enough. Is it your brother? The way you parted?”
Lanokas did not so much as look up from his work. “It isn’t Hune.”
She asked again what was on his mind, but the prince ignored her. Kora stayed his hand, taking his washboard; that grabbed his attention. “Rexson Lanokas….”
“I can’t get that man’s children out of my head.”
“What man?”
“The man I killed in Hogarane.”
“The man you…?” said Kora. Then she realized what he was referring to: he and Menikas, waving their hands, slamming a flying guardsman headfirst into a bookcase.
“We’ve all killed, every one of us. I know I have. I remember the first. At least, I think he was the first. He was one of the men who ambushed us at the Landfill. A sword I conjured got him. I still think of it, all the time…. I shouldn’t have mentioned what Argint said about those kids. I wasn’t thinking, I just told the group the whole story of our meeting.”
“As we wanted you to.” Lanokas shook his head in disgust. “Everything’s out of sorts. Look at you, what your upbringing was. You should never have had to kill anyone. I swear, it makes me livid to see the state Zalski’s forced you into. What he’s forced your family into. Life shouldn’t be this way.”
“It wasn’t meant to be,” said Kora. “Not even Zalski meant it to be, for either one of us. He never dreamed you would leave that Palace alive. He never wanted you on the run, and me, well, he tried to bribe me to stand with him. As for that guardsman’s family…. Forget them. I don’t mean to be callous, I don’t, but it’s not as though you can do a thing for them, not where you are. You can’t bring those children their father back. If it makes you feel better, I’m sure Zalski’s watching out for them. They probably have magic, for one thing. Their father did, and magic or no, Zalski’s loyal to those who support him. He wouldn’t let the children of his elite guard starve.”
“That’s true,” said Lanokas. “Yes, I guess that’s true.”
Before he could say something more, the bushes on their left began to stir. Kora dropped a pair of pants in the river. Lanokas and Hayden drew close to her, Hayden aiming his crossbow. Lanokas held a hand to his sword hilt, and the bushes moved again, this time with a grunt. A creature clothed in rags, his skin crimson, tumbled from the greenery. Kora pushed Hayden’s crossbow aside.
“Rankush?” she said, her head reeling as much at his stench as at his presence near the Podra. Kora knew next to nothing about trolls, but in none of her father’s stories had the species come out in daylight.
Rankush started, surprised to hear his name. He studied Kora closely. “Sorceress,” he said. He narrowed his eyes at Lanokas. “And you, I remember you.” The prince released his grip upon his weapon. The troll ignored Hayden, which seemed to suit the teenager just fine; he stood quaking before the figure that rose before him.
“What are you doing?” said Kora. “Get back in the bushes, you might be seen. There’ll be an outcry.”
Rankush crawled back in the shrubs, allowing just the front half of his face to peek through. “I come down to warn humans. My master attack town.”
“What?” said Lanokas. “He’s attacking Fontferry?” He knelt to be level wi
th Rankush’s face.
“The dark-skins kill twenty light-skins. Just to kill them. We don’t have numbers to fight dark-skins, but you humans, yes, you many. Pikebash say if we kill humans, then humans return attack, kill dark-skins. Dark-skins not expect war, so humans kill them.”
“When is your master’s attack?” said Lanokas.
“Night. When night come.”
“Nightfall?” Kora ran a hand down her face. “That gives us two hours.”
“I go now,” said Rankush. “Pikebash not know I missing. In mountain trolls disappear, you remember? They disappear like sorcerers. But we left mountain in morning.”
Lanokas said, “Only in the mountains? Trolls’ magic comes from the mountains themselves?”
“Trolls and mountains linked,” Rankush explained. “You warn humans? You warn them?”
“We’ll warn them,” said Lanokas.
“How many?” asked Hayden. “How many trolls?”
“I not count them. We separate when we cross river, not before, Pikebash say. We start at boats because they easy to find.” The bushes shook as the troll’s head withdrew into the branches. Hayden fell to the ground, but Lanokas jerked him up.
Kora’s voice squeaked. “Lanokas, the boats must mean the ferry. Valkin and Teena….”
“They’re the first ones the trolls will come across. I’ll warn them. Hayden, you need to call the militia.” Hayden stared at him, blankly, and the prince explained, “I can’t call them to arms. Neither can Kora. If there’s an elite in town, he’d be trained to recognize us. Go to the bell tower and sound the alarm. Literally. Kora….”
“I’ll get everyone at Wheatfield. But you do realize Laskenay and I will be useless? Magic won’t affect Pikebash.”
“You can heal the wounded if nothing else.” Lanokas looked to his left. “Hayden, go!” Hayden jumped and tore off in the direction of the footbridge.
“Wait,” said Kora. The teen stumbled to a stop. “Let me take you back to the barn. You’ll be closer from there, and the bridge has guards.”
The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 52