“I thought you didn’t like me that way.”
“Ug. I didn’t mean that. Ug.”
“Ug. The sound a man wants to hear from his wife when he talks about making sweet love to her.”
“Ug. Please never say such garbage again.” Zofila smiled. “You know what I mean. Servants notice things. When a man has only one wife and never visits her. Plus, we can talk privately in here. You don’t have to take all the burden on yourself, you know. There are others in the family willing to help.”
“What would you think about Borba being head wife?”
“I didn’t think that she was who you’d pick out.”
“She’d be good for the family. A strong and intelligent presence.”
“Would she be good for you, though? Sometimes we have to follow our heart.”
“A Guardian can’t afford to do that. A Guardian has to overcome his heart’s desires and do what needs to be done.”
“I’m not sure that’s the kind of family that we want here in Bellanger Mansion. There are many other Greenettes who are dying to meet you. Perhaps you’ll find a girl or two who will help the family and also make you happy.” She pointed a finger at the center of his chest. “We need someone to soften your heart. Helion knows most other things in Arcandis will harden it.”
Bowe had been avoiding the Greenettes even though he knew it was an important duty of his to select several appropriate wives. “I’m sure most of the girls will lie and try to manipulate me. I’m just a prize to them.”
“Some will.” Zofila hesitated. “In fact, most will. Doesn’t mean that the one you need isn’t there waiting for you. You didn’t talk to anyone except Borba at the ball, and you haven’t been at any of the other events. In fact, other than Thrace, the Bellanger representation at events where the Greenettes have gathered has been sorely lacking. The ascora are not happy. I’ve already spoken to Sorrin about it.”
“Sorrin will marry?”
“Of course. He doesn’t have to like it. I don’t have to like it. But it has to be done. Hopefully, he’ll marry someone who we can one day bring into our secret.”
“Oh, nice.”
“Ug. Not like that. Someone we can trust.”
Bowe stood and walked to the window and peeked around the blinds. Dawn approached, spilling yellow light onto the horizon, but Helion still stood big and proud and foreboding in the sky.
“So. About Sindar?” Zofila said. “I presume you want to talk about him. That’s why you came.”
“I’m not sure I can help him.”
“You haven’t even tried yet.”
“Stenesso holds him ransom, and he wants me to betray what I know about the Guild. Who I know. I don’t think that’s the right thing to do. And even if it was, most of what I know is from three years ago. I haven’t spoken to anyone in the Guild since then.” Zofila was the only person within the family that he had confided his contact with the Guild, even if he hadn’t given her any details.
“So you don’t know what’s going on with the Guild? Maybe you have to find out. You mightn’t need to betray anyone, but you won’t know what needs doing until you know more. Aren’t you the one who always told me that knowledge is the first key to winning?”
“All my knowledge is about the Bellanger business interests and about the other great families these days.” Bowe had worked with Rianel, but only in his capacity as a Bellanger marshal and leader of the council in Belldeem. His secret involvement with the Guild had not been mentioned.
“Three years ago, your return to power came on the back of escay help. You shouldn’t forget that.”
“I guess I could send Toose to see what he can find out.”
“Toose. Phooey. You are the one who knows some of these escay leaders. It’s time to get your hands dirty again.”
With Coensaw captured, did that mean that Xarcon was now in charge? Since Xarcon had left the Bellangers, he’d shown no loyalty or affection to his old family, but Bowe felt he’d at least talk to him. However, Zofila was certainly right that neither Xarcon nor whoever else might be in charge would be interested in saying much to Toose. “I’m a Guardian now.” When Bowe had nothing to lose, everything had been so much easier. These days the weight on his shoulders never lessened. “I can’t get involved with criminal elements the way I used to.”
Zofila sprang out of bed and put her hand on Bowe’s head and mussed his hair. “So you can’t get down and dirty anymore, is that it? Always have to be the marble Guardian sitting alone up on his pedestal.” She opened the window blinds, letting more light into the room. A breeze ruffled through her long pale nightgown.
“I can’t just go looking for escay leaders in taverns anymore. I would be recognized. And I have to keep on top of family matters. Running one of the great families doesn’t happen by itself. Every day, there’s a list of things I have to take care of. And when I’ve done them all, the next day there’s a new list, usually bigger than the last.”
“Listen to you. Running one of the great families. Don’t believe I’m going to let you turn into a pompous ass. No way. Not going to happen. Not under my watch.”
Bowe tried to return Zofila’s smile but found he couldn’t. “I wish I had more options.” Bowe stepped backward away from Zofila with heavy steps, reaching for the door handle behind. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”
Zofila padded forward and grabbed Bowe’s arm. “No, you can’t leave. You think I don’t understand you, but I do. You feel the weight of the last Bellanger Guardian is on your shoulders, right? You can’t repeat his mistakes?”
Bowe nodded. He allowed Zofila to guide him into a sitting position on her bed. Tiredness pulled at his eyelids.
“The last Bowe Bellanger made a lot of mistakes,” Zofila said. “You want to make up for that. That doesn’t mean you have to follow his path while avoiding the mistakes. You aren’t him. There are other paths.”
“It’s not just me to worry about. I’m responsible for the whole family. The other Bellanger ascor, all the new marshals, all the escay who are depending on us to give them places in the Refuge.”
“One person can’t hold aloft a boulder by themselves. If they try, it’ll crush them, and the boulder will still have fallen.”
“What do you suggest?”
“What were you planning to do about Sindar? You decided you had to let him rot in the Fortress?”
It hurt Bowe to say it. “Yes. If that’s what needs to be done.” It was that which had kept him up all night. The thought of what he might need to do. Bowe let his emotions get the better of him in trying to save Coinal and it had only made things worse. If not saving Sindar was the best decision for the family, that was what he had to do.
“Total daftness. It’s a good job you came to talk to me first.” She put a hand on either side of Bowe’s head, tucked her thumbs under his hairline, and folded the bottom of his hair onto the top of his head. “So we’ll tie up your longish hair. See? You look different already.”
“What are you doing?”
“Working on your disguise. We’ll band your hair into a small bun. That’ll be hidden under a straw hat. We’ll rub some dirt on your face, put on some escay clothes. I think that’s all it’ll take.” She let his hair fall down against and moved toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
“To steal some escay clothes before everyone is up. There’s no time like the present.”
“I can’t just put on a disguise and up and leave.” Bowe bounced himself off the bed. “What about everything else? I can’t just drop it all.”
“I’ll talk to Sorrin. Get him to take over as much day-to-day stuff as possible. I tell him how perfectly useless he is as often as I can, but I can’t deny he’s good at organizing. Thrace can take some slack as well, spend less time weapons training in the yard and flirting with every Greenette in the city. They won’t mind in the slightest since it’s for Sindar.”
A smile touched Bowe’s lips.
“Who’s in charge of this family?”
She patted Bowe’s cheek. “We let you think you are, dear.”
* * *
Bowe stood on the low wall of the fountain in Drywell Square for the second time in a few days. This time, though, was much different than the last. He wore a gray cloak, dried mud crusted his cheek, and a straw hat tilted low across his eyes, and no one paid him any attention. He wasn’t the center of attention with hundreds of gazes on him.
The first rays of sunlight peeked over the walls of Arcandis; a piercing gleam reflected off the black rock of the Fortress. In the eastern sky, Helion was reluctant to retreat and still supplied most of the early-morning light. In the square, the first merchants were setting up. Bowe craned his neck, using his position on top of the wall to try and get a better view of what each of them were selling.
When he saw a Grenier marshal watching him, Bowe jumped off the wall and shuffled away. He didn’t want to be noticed. The cloak was oversized, and he made sure that the sleeves hung low enough to hide his lack of a right hand. Though no one would expect an ascor to be dressed as an escay, his missing hand would immediately link him with the Bellanger Guardian. He walked between the aisles of stalls, glancing from side to side, to get an idea what was being sold. Merchants tended to cluster together, and often Bowe didn’t even need to look up from the ground to tell that he was changing section. By smell alone, the fresh meat section, the dried herbs section, and the leather clothes section were easily distinguishable.
A secret tunnel led from Bellanger Mansion to one of the nearby houses. Built for emergencies, it had been put into regular use by Zofila, who had moved into the bedroom where the entrance was hidden. This made it possible to leave her room at night without anyone noticing. This morning, though, Bowe had made use of the tunnel to leave the mansion without anyone seeing him dressed as an escay.
The small house at the other the end of the tunnel was one of the many abandoned houses of Arcandis. Only one small room at the back revealed that it was actually in use. That had been made in a little home with a fresh, clean carpet on the floor and silk drapes framing the inside of the window. Candles, now unlit, had been placed in the four corners. The bed was made up and flanked by two comfortable chairs. It made Bowe glad to think that Zofila and Sorrin could be happy in that room. Happiness was a precious commodity in Arcandis.
Despite the early-morning crowds, a sleepy air hung over the market, with shoppers going about their business with heavy lidded eyes, merchants calling out their wares in a half-hearted manner and not even putting much effort into their haggling.
Bowe wasn’t even sure if Iyra would be here, but if she were, she would be in the artisan section. After an initial exploratory search, Bowe had figured out the basic layout of the market, and he started to focus his search on the artisan section. Merchants, noticing Bowe examine their wares, started to shout out offers or approached him with suggestions or advice. Bowe kept his head down and moved on, avoiding attention.
When he finally found what he was looking for, he realized he hadn’t needed to look so closely. The work on display stood out to him so much, there might as well have been a glowing aura around it. Crammed in between two carpet sellers, the small stall was overflowing with wooden sculptures of diverse subjects—animals, cityscapes, abstract people, imaginary creatures. The ebony dragon was about to take flight and in the statue of the diving woman, a sensation of wind flowing through her hair had been created. Bowe had seen enough of Iyra’s work to know her signature.
Sitting at the stall was what appeared to be an old woman with her hood pulled low over her face. Bowe had come upon Iyra dressed as an old woman in the marketplace before, so he knew who she really was.
“How have you been the last few years?” Bowe asked her.
“Eh,” the woman croaked. “I don’t know you.”
“You don’t have to pretend. I’d recognize this work anywhere.”
“What are you talking about, boy? Do you want to buy something? Good prices. Best quality in Arcandis.”
“Are you still upset with me?” Bowe grabbed her sleeve, intending to examine her hands. Her youthful hands had given her away before.
The old woman snatched her arm back.
“Hey. Mush-for-Brains. In here.” The voice came from behind the old woman, from a small cloth tent set up at the back of the stall. A flap of cloth was pulled back and Iyra’s face poked out.
Bowe reddened and addressed the old woman. “Sorry about that. Honest mistake.”
The woman was holding her arm to her chest like it had been hurt. “I’d chase you out of here, but since it’s the girl you’re after, I’ll let it pass. Boys don’t visit her too often.”
“It’s not like that,” Iyra called out from the cloth tent.
“Well, it should be like that,” the old woman said. Then addressing Bowe, she said, “The girl is always working. She should be having some fun, Infernam or no Infernam. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
Iyra came out of the stall. “Let’s walk.”
“Nice to meet you,” Bowe told the old woman.
“You treat her nice now,” the old woman said. “Or at least help her figure out how to have fun. Unnatural for a pretty girl to not have boys calling on her.”
Bowe fell into step with Iyra. He had expected to feel weird seeing her again after all this time, but it didn’t; it felt comfortable. He sneaked a peek at her. She was still recognizable as the Iyra he knew, but she had changed a lot. Her face had lengthened and thinned—she was more beautiful than pretty now. But there were lines in her face that weren’t there before and a sadness in her eyes.
They left the square behind and started down a narrow street. Drying on wires above their heads, clothes blew in the wind. Bowe didn’t have a direction in mind; he was just following his feet, and he was sure that Iyra was doing the same.
“I presume you want something?” Iyra was the first to break the silence.
“Yes, I do. I wouldn’t mind just having a chat first. You and me.”
“After what you did? I don’t think so,” Iyra said. “I’m only talking with you because I assume it’s something important. She touched the corner of Bowe’s cloak. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gotten dressed up.”
Bowe had lied to her three years ago and betrayed her trust. She’d wanted the Jarindors to overthrow the ascor and Bowe had let her help him believing he intended the same. Instead, in the Battle of Pots and Pans, he’d led the resistance that had defeated the Jarindors.
“I still think about you all the time.” Bowe had been marshaling arguments in his head, figuring out how to best explain what he’d done. Instead, those words popped out.
“Only ascor have time for thinking. For the rest of us, the Infernam is too near.”
“I did what I thought best for everyone. I didn’t want to lie to you. I didn’t want all those people to die in the battle.” Bowe had come here just to seek a meeting with the Guild, but having met her, he wanted more. He wasn’t sure what, but he couldn’t just let her walk out of his life again.
“Explaining yourself doesn’t change anything,” Iyra said. “I understand why you did what you did, but that doesn’t mean I can forgive you.” She stopped suddenly in the middle of the street. “I’m not doing this reminiscing thing. You did what you felt you had to. It drove us apart, but that had to happen. Maybe it was for the best it happened that way. A clean break. Now, what do you want?” Bowe sensed an aching sadness inside Iyra. He looked down at his feet, unable to hold her gaze. “I need to meet Xarcon.”
“I’m not involved with the Guild anymore. They don’t trust me,” Iyra said.
“You can’t do anything for me? I promise that this will benefit the escay.” Why did I say that? Bowe wondered. It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but his reason for meeting the Guild was primarily to help Sindar rather than the Guild. She had been disgusted with his lies and betrayals before; was this time going to be any differe
nt?
“I can talk to a few people. It’ll take a few days but I might be able to set up something.”
Bowe nodded. “Thank—”
Iyra didn’t let him finish, turning away. Bowe raised his arm to stop hear, then let it fall to his side, and just watched her walk back toward Drywell Square. Their meeting had opened something within him, a renewed yearning for something that could never be. He sighed. Iyra was right—nothing good could come of reawakening those feelings. And yet...
Chapter 6
32 Days Left
Bowe stared into space, feeling discouraged. He had needed Iyra to get him that meeting with the Guild. Five days had gone by with no word from her, and in the meantime no progress had been made on freeing Sindar. For the first day or two after meeting Iyra, Bowe had jumped any time anyone entered the small hall, expecting it to be a message from her. But either she was having trouble getting word to the Guild, or she couldn’t get them to agree to meet him.
Bowe had more time than he knew what to do with. Sorrin, upon Zofila’s request, had taken over many of Bowe’s day-to-day tasks as Bellanger Guardian. Bowe had failed to come up with any ideas to free Sindar—he needed to meet the Guild to figure out if there was anything he could offer Stenesso in return for Sindar’s release.
When Sorrin or Thrace asked Bowe how his efforts to free Sindar were shaping up, he had shrugged and said that progress was slow without going into details. He didn’t want to admit how little had been done. Every second that went by without freeing him was another second that Sindar had to spend in the Fortress. He pushed his stump against the desk, hard enough to cause pain. His family trusted him, depended on him, and he was letting them down.
“Guardian, sir.” Toose pushed open his door and walked in.
Bowe adjusted some of the papers on his desk, then looked up. “What is it?”
“You said you wanted to be alerted about all messages, no matter how trivial.”
“Yes.” Finally.
The Collapsing Path (The Narrowing Path Series Book 3) Page 6