Lanokas eyed him warily. “I don’t see how that matters. But yes.”
The mayor just about had an aneurism. “How it matters? Of course it matters! I’m going to stamp out every last one of them!”
“That was their aim, to have us wipe out a faction that oppresses them. I personally spoke with their informant. Every creature who conspired against us has been killed, that’s fact.”
“Someone has to pay for this!”
“The guilty have. You can’t engage in war, Mayor. The results, the damage, would be catastrophic. This—” Lanokas jabbed a hand toward what remained of the inn—“this pales in comparison. The troll population could be fifty times that of Fontferry. We just don’t know.”
“And who the hell are you to give me orders? You’re not even a citizen of my town!”
Lanokas removed a palm-sized medallion from his pocket and tossed it to the mayor. Kora could not make out the emblem, but it must have been the royal family’s crest, for Peare’s eyes darted between the round piece of metal in his hands and the man who had thrown it. He stammered stupidly, began to speak and stopped short at a warning glare from the prince.
“I’ll order no assault,” Peare said, albeit grudgingly. He thrust the medallion back to Lanokas.
“Wait just a minute,” said the soldier who had spoken before. He forced his way to the prince; Kora’s abdomen clenched up. “Wait just a minute, what is this? What did you show him?” He pulled Lanokas forward by the tunic, studying him in the moonlight. All of a sudden, hand trembling, he released the fistful of fabric he held.
“Rexson Phinnean.” He dropped to one knee, from which Lanokas hastened to lift him. The others started murmuring.
“How do you know me?”
“I’ve been eight years in the army. I went down to Podrar in my third, to receive recognition from the king, a local service award. My immediate commander chose me from the regiment. There were fifty recipients in all, from throughout the kingdom. I sat across from you at the banquet.”
A slight pull formed at the corner of the royal’s lip. “I see.”
“You escaped? During the coup?”
“Clearly.”
“To start the Crimson League. If I’d known you were alive, Your Majesty…. Let me join you.”
“Let us all,” said another of the uniforms. “We’ll fight with you, and more of us.”
“Why should I trust you?” asked Lanokas.
A third soldier responded. “If we supported Zalski, we’d arrest you right now. We outnumber you, and with all due respect, God knows we could use the fruits of the sorcerer’s gratitude. Do you think my pantry’s full? I have a gaggle of nieces and nephews to feed, a gaggle.”
Lanokas motioned the soldiers to follow. He led them, and seven militiamen, in Kora’s direction. “You want to join me? Then meet me in twelve days outside the old Wheatfield Estate. Recruit others if you must, if you can, but keep in mind discretion is a virtue. A saving one. Bring no one who isn’t trained to use arms. Am I clear?”
Despite her aching muscles, her empty stomach, despite the nausea that had started at the sight (and stench) of the first troll and never quite subsided, Kora smiled. She smiled and backed silently out of earshot. Then she transported to the river, where her soap was still lying in the spot where she had dropped it. She washed before returning to Wheatfield; she could not stand for another minute to think how many dead creatures had blood clinging to her and her clothing.
Bennie and the two older boys, Gant’s sons, were asleep in the loft. Below them Valkin, or Vane, whichever his name was, lay curled in his mother’s lap. Laskenay was stroking his hair. She seemed unable to tear her eyes from him, gave no sign that she noted Kora’s presence except to whisper when Kora drew near, “He does look like his father. Exactly like him.”
“I think Neslan recognized him.”
“I’m sure he did,” said Laskenay. “He won’t be the only one, either.”
It was true. Zalski would know the boy right away. Kora chose her words carefully. “If you haven’t stripped him of his powers yet, you won’t find a more perfect opportunity.”
“I tried to bring myself,” said Laskenay. “I couldn’t. I can’t. For once in his life, my brother knew better than I. It isn’t my place. The boy’s mark would remain. He would learn of what I’d done, and hate me for it, hate me with cause.” Laskenay indicated a folded length of parchment. “I wrote Valkin—he’ll always be Valkin to me—I wrote him a letter. To explain what he’ll need to know, about who he is, who his parents are, what he can expect at Zalski’s school. He’ll have the incantation, I included it. He can bind his own power, should he so choose. I pray he will. Should he not….”
“Should he not, he’ll have Zacry to watch over him.”
Laskenay glanced up at Kora. “I could ask for no one better.”
Kora’s lip trembled, but only briefly. She nodded toward the sleeping tot. “You’ll be able to give him back to Teena?”
“I’ve borne close to three years without him, Kora. I can stand another fortnight.”
Valkin stirred, but did not wake. He raised his thumb to his mouth and fell still once more, perhaps dreaming. After a number of seconds Kora dared a whisper. “We’ll have help.”
Laskenay creased her forehead. “Help? What do you mean?”
“We have men, trained men, at least twenty of them, all soldiers and militia. They recognized Lanokas and want to join us. Twenty men’s no army, but it’s three times what we had. That has to help our chances.”
“Bringing in outsiders is a risk. A monster of a risk.”
“I saw these men cut down trolls like…. Like I don’t know what. Laskenay, what do we stand to lose? That we wouldn’t lose anyway?”
“Very little,” the sorceress admitted. She kissed two fingers and placed them on her child’s forehead. Kora, feeling awkward, judged it best to ignore the gesture. She scrambled for an excuse to leave Laskenay alone and hit on one easily. “Listen, I’m exhausted, I think I’ll pass out here if I don’t lay down in the next five minutes.”
“You should rest. We’ll have to move on, and wherever we go, it won’t be as comfortable as this.”
Kora went up to the loft. As soon as she lay down, she fell asleep.
Hayden, who must have taken last watch, woke Kora and the rest of the League the next morning. “Where are the boys?” she asked.
“They’re gone with their caretakers.”
“But where did Teena go? She can’t go back to the inn.”
“They all went to Gand’s house. He insisted on taking her in. And then…. It was the sweetest thing, Teena’s nephew had to hug the ‘pretty lady’ two or three times before he left.”
Kora smiled to herself. “Laskenay, right? I slept through all of this?”
“You must have. It surprised me you didn’t wake up, you’re usually a light sleeper.”
A few minutes later, the League gathered in the barn proper. Laskenay, accustomed to leading group sessions, took charge. “We have to leave this place by nightfall,” she said. “I’ll go into town and get as much food as I can.” Lanokas tossed her a drawstring bag. Its contents jingled as she caught it. “What’s this?”
“A gift from the mayor. I wouldn’t say he’s had a change of heart, but he feels guilty as sin for the way he treated Kora before.”
Laskenay shoved the bag in her sack. “I don’t care what his motives are, I’ll take the gift. Bennie, why don’t you come with me?”
Kora said, “I’ll fetch the laundry from the riverbank. We left it there.” Lanokas said there was too much for her to bring back by herself, and she told him to tag along, which he did. They found their baskets, soap, towels, and clothing strewn in the morning sun. As far as Kora could tell, no one had come to the site in their absence. She started throwing garments over her arm. “I guess you spoke with Peare, then?” she asked.
“Only for some minutes. No more than ten. He suggested it might be
in our best interest to leave Fontferry.”
Kora rolled her eyes. “How kind.”
“He wasn’t threatening me. Our presence, he said, could threaten the village if Zalski found out we were here. And he’s right. I don’t grudge him. We weren’t planning to stay as it is. Besides, Hayden said it was his assistant that ordered the militia to Teena’s.”
“There’s no way Fontferry’s militia’s that small.”
“Most men ignored the orders. They thought Hayden was unstable. The mayor, in turn, is making them retrain, all who disobeyed command. He’s the militia’s chief, and when his assistant speaks, he speaks.”
“Did you tell him…?”
“I mentioned Zalski’s plans for the Tricentennial fell through. Kora….”
“What?” She dumped an armload of clean clothing in a basket. “What is it?”
“We stand a fighting chance now. We really do.”
Kora tried, and failed, to smile. “I know what you’re talking about. I was there, too fatigued to move. Some militiamen will join us, and a small group of army.”
“I think they could make the difference.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”
“I said could,” said Lanokas. He gathered various articles of dirty laundry as an awkward silence fell. Kora bit her lip.
“You want to discuss the two of us, don’t you? What our choices are if we survive. I don’t think that’s smart, Lanokas. It’s a distraction, pure distraction. We can figure that out when the time arrives. If it arrives.”
“So you might be open to marrying a royal? If I proposed, you wouldn’t throw another drink in my face?”
He punched her playfully on the arm, trying to raise her spirits, and Kora could not help but crack a smile this time. “I promise not to throw another ale. Not even a glass of water. As for what I’d say to you, I honestly don’t know. Lanokas, the only thing I’m sure of is that yesterday, Rankush was speaking to us from right over there—” she pointed to the damaged bush behind them, where broken twigs littered the ground— “and later it took five seconds, if that, for a man to shoot him. Five seconds. That’s all it’ll take for Zalski or his guards to kill one of us, to kill you. Last night was the first night all week I didn’t dream about you dying, and well, we both know Zalski has some spells that could take us out together. You saw what he did to Sedder. So I, I’m sorry, but I just don’t see the merit in talking about this now. Even knowing we have help, it’s so unlikely….”
“All right.” Lanokas let her take his hand; she had to touch him, to feel that he was still there with her, flesh and blood. “All right, we’ll let the subject go for now.”
“For now,” Kora agreed. She lowered her gaze to her ankles, and Lanokas raised her head.
“Listen to me, you’ll make it through these two weeks, and past them. Dead or alive, we’ll all get past them…. It’s awful, isn’t it? The waiting.”
“Awful doesn’t come close. How do you handle it so well?”
“So well? My chest has been burning eight days straight. I have no strategy. I’m just taking things one task at a time.”
“That sounds like a strategy to me. It’s what I’ve been trying to do.”
“You’re succeeding just fine.”
Kora said, “Can I ask you something else? I just…. I keep thinking of those men last night, when they realized who you are. Their offers, their aid…. Why haven’t you let out you’re alive? The whole kingdom—”
“—would be looking for me. Would likely recognize me. We wouldn’t be able to stay anywhere a week. That banquet Layver mentioned….”
“Was he the soldier? The one who called you out?”
“I attended hundreds of functions like that in my father and brother’s place because they couldn’t be bothered. That was my role as the non-heir. My time was less valuable than theirs. Almost all those events involved commoners, in large numbers. It doesn’t matter much now, with just days remaining, but in the past, to have my presence marked…. Not all those people would be friendly, Kora. It’s like that other soldier said, who couldn’t use the reward money? Revealing my survival on a large scale, that was never an option. It still isn’t. Two weeks are more than sufficient for news to reach Zalski that we’re planning something. You’ll notice I gave the men no details whatsoever, about anything.”
“I noticed.”
“Some of them might desert us for it. Good riddance. I told them what I could without jeopardizing us.”
“So rounding up support in other parts of the kingdom…?”
“It’s not feasible, especially not in zones close to Podrar, with access to the Palace.”
“What about the Partsvale group? Your brother mentioned them once.”
“He didn’t trust them, and I don’t either. Well, I trust a handful, but those have families. I won’t ask them to go to Podrar with us, not for what we’re doing.”
Kora sighed. She picked up an empty basket and started throwing more clothes in it. “You’re right. It kills me, but you’re right.”
“We’ll make do with what we have,” said Lanokas. “It just may be enough.”
“Perhaps. I felt better about the new help last night. Not that I doubt the men’s conviction, because I don’t. I just don’t know that they’ll change anything, in the end.”
“There’s no use dissecting what effect they might have.”
Kora paused in her work. “I know. I just hate that we’re so desperate.”
“Well, in some ways we’re not. We’re calculating risks. We’re planning, rehearsing until we don’t even want to think anymore. That’s not desperation. Desperation is throwing precautions away. It’s minimizing, not maximizing, your chances.”
Kora said, “I guess I think desperation’s any response to a worst case scenario. That’s what we’re in.”
“How can you say that? We were worse off twenty-four hours ago.”
Kora put down her basket. “Then something will offset the gain. Maybe something already has, and we haven’t learned of it. I’ve been feeling that way all morning. I can’t shake the thought a wolf’s lurking around the bend, like my father used to say. Maybe I’ve just grown cynical, but tripling our numbers, overnight, it seems too lucky by the light of day. Far too lucky.”
“You have to take it easy,” Lanokas told her. “Let things take care of themselves. Because they will.”
“Or they won’t.”
“Or they won’t,” Lanokas conceded.
“I’m not obsessing about failure, I’m not. I’m not even as afraid of being killed as I used to be. I just wish the others would recognize there’s a good chance we won’t make it.”
“What good would it to do to speak of that? I promise you, they know we’ve no margin for error. Why has Neslan been so insistent that everyone memorize, inside and out, the Palace floor plan? Why has Bennie had such trouble, when normally she’s sharp as a tack?”
“Bennie can’t read.”
“That’s never stopped her before. Why does Hayden grudge the training and the meetings so much? He thinks he has two weeks to live, that’s why, and he doesn’t want to spend them working. He accepts that he has to, that we all have to, but it’s soured his mood. He’s withdrawn more than ever from the rest of us. Hardly speaks a word.”
“He’s grieving his cousin,” said Kora. “Just like Bennie’s grieving her teacher. Their deaths were blows, you understand that. For God’s sake, you lost….”
“We’ll not talk about Menikas.”
“What about Laskenay, then? She hasn’t mentioned the word death this week, not once.”
“She’s been working herself ragged to distract herself, taking care of a number of little things. Like your brother.”
“What about my brother?” Kora stepped closer to Lanokas. “Why did she go check on him yesterday? Do you know?”
“To occupy her mind, like I said. She was making sure he’s staying in the house. She might have given
his guardian instructions, about how to enroll him in Zalski’s school when the time comes. She probably impressed on Zacry he can never speak of the people he’s with right now: worthwhile tasks all, and necessary ones. When she’s working on things like that, she isn’t thinking about leaving her son an orphan.”
“I admire her so much,” said Kora. “I don’t know how she doesn’t go crazy, all she’s been through.”
“It’s because of what she’s been through. It’s hardened her. No one wants to leave a young child with no parents, but she’s had that prospect, and worse, hanging over her head for three years now. People learn to adapt. Don’t pity her, she wouldn’t want that.”
“I don’t pity her. I just said I admire her.”
“She’s had to make some difficult choices.”
“Every one of us has.”
Lanokas cocked an eyebrow. “Zalski gave me a choice? I’m the royal, he’d never spare….”
“You had a choice,” said Kora. “You could have done him a favor and knocked yourself off.”
“Well, that’s blunt.”
“It’s a choice, is it not?”
“It’s not much of one. Kill myself or wait for his goons to do it?”
Kora put a hand on his arm. “Forget I mentioned it.”
“I think I will, thanks.” He paused, unsure whether to continue. “You know, I considered it once. Only once. Just after the coup.”
“Suicide?” With a startled look, Kora sat on the grass. She motioned for him to join her, but he leaned against a tree instead.
“I might have done it. Probably would have, had Laskenay not needed me to bring her north. I told myself I could do it once Valkin was safe. I could stab myself or hang myself or something. Somewhere along the way to finding Teena, I thought to hell with Zalski, I wouldn’t do his work for him.”
“We certainly managed to annoy him,” said Kora. “That’s something to be pleased about, I guess.”
“Is it really? Is annoying him worth all we’ve suffered?”
“Suffering’s no excuse for being a selfish coward. That’s what suicide is, it’s the most selfish…. But you recognized that. You helped Laskenay instead. Even cursing her interference, which I’m sure you did, you went north with her. Thank God you made that choice. I wouldn’t recognize myself if I hadn’t had you to show me that fighting’s worthwhile. I honestly think the fear…. I might never have returned from that first meeting I had with Zalski. I might have given in. The Giver knows he threatened me. And then there’s Zacry. If you hadn’t been here to make him understand…. He wouldn’t have listened to me. He never has. Lanokas, I will never forget all you’ve done for me, and I want to tell you, because I never told Sedder and I should have, it still haunts me that I should have:
The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) Page 54