The Baker's Wife--complete

by Amy Keeley

  She nodded and made the same gesture Daegan had shown Krysilla.

  Zhiv smiled warmly. “Good. When you get inside, hide as best you can. Don’t worry about where. We’ll find you when we get home, Daegan and I.”

  “What about mum?”

  Zhiv’s face clouded. “If we can, we’ll bring her. I promise.”

  Tira threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek before running off with the note folded tight and hidden in her small hand.

  Zhiv stared at the sky. “He’ll wait until it gets dark and can be clearly seen. King Jivon understands the importance of the right mood.”

  There was no carefree smile or even the usual lighthearted comments as they walked. The silence between them—caused by Krysilla’s revelation, she was sure—weighed on her.

  And then his eyes widened with fear. “Run.” Snatching her by the wrist, they began racing down the path, then off the path and through the forest surrounding the city.

  “Zhiv?”

  “Just run.”

  Trusting him, she ran with all she had, and behind her she could feel their footprints disappearing. “Try to step where I’m stepping,” he said.

  You make it sound so easy, she almost snapped, but tried to do so. They came to a creek and Zhiv and Krysilla ran through it, water drenching their boots and clothes. Once on the other side, his pace didn’t slow. It wasn’t until they got to the city wall and Zhiv pulled a knotted rope from an empty stump that she dared to ask, breathless from the run, why.

  “Dogs,” he said, breathless as well, and yet already casting a spell on the rope.

  “The King—”

  “It may not be the King.” Zhiv said. “Vyomsi may have sent them so I could wind up on that platform.”

  The King controlled the Dogs. Not any noble. “They belong to the King.”

  He threw the rope up and Krysilla watched it shoot toward the top of the wall. “Not if he’s managed to turn a few of them.” Using the knots, Zhiv began to climb.

  Krysilla shook her head. “They aren’t like you or I. They can’t be bought.”

  He looked at her sharply then. “I’ve known at least one Dog, goodwife. They can indeed be bought, if the noble is willing to pay the price. Now, hurry. Sunfall will be upon us sooner than you think and we have to be in place before then.”

  “Are you going to let me in on your plan this time?” She hitched up her skirt as she had when she had worked in her father’s fields and began to climb after him.

  “No.”

  “Because of my agreement with the King, or because you’re making this up as you go along?”

  “Both.” The honesty of his admission stung. But she accepted it. It’s enough, she decided, that he’s willing to let me help him, no matter what he may think of me afterward.

  She focused on the rope and ignored the tears forming in her eyes.

  Her arms were practically useless by the time they reached the top of the wall. “This way,” Zhiv said, walking along the tall battlement as if he did this all the time.

  Maybe he does, she considered. He stopped and touched a few of the stones that made up the wall. They opened and he disappeared inside, waiting until Krysilla had followed before closing them up again. From his bag he took out his small King’s Light and held it up as they traveled the narrow tunnel that consistently led downward. “What about the rope?” Krysilla asked. “Won’t someone notice?”

  “It should have fallen down by now. And yes, the Dogs will notice it and know exactly who built the spell. But then, it’s been a Mikailsin tradition to create climbing ropes for some time now.”

  “Has it?”

  “No.” Though he seemed to be joking, he didn’t smile.

  She thought of when he had spoken to her so candidly in his room. Chances are very good, she told herself, you will never have another moment like that again. Bracing herself against the misery of that thought, she followed him out a small entryway that led into the slums. Hurrying down the narrow streets, she knew where they were going simply from the direction.

  However, instead of going through the square to get to the Disciples’ library, Zhiv stopped in front of a section with stones as big as his hands. “All right, Daegan,” he muttered. “Let’s see if it still works.” Touching the stones in the wall, each one slowly rolled out of place, forming a small opening just big enough for them to fit through if they wriggled. Taking off the bag slung across his chest, Zhiv shoved it in first through the hole, then pulled himself through.

  From behind, Krysilla heard a soft voice. Turning, she saw Tira with the dagger from the secret room in her hands. She took it and said, “Where—”

  But Tira didn’t wait. With a smile for Krysilla that made her heart swell with affection, the little girl raced down the street as if Lord Teranasin himself were at her heels.

  Tucking the dagger in the folds of her blue sash, Krysilla scrambled through after Zhiv, bag once more over his shoulder and across his chest. She stood up in a narrow space between the wall and a series of bushes. Zhiv was listening closely for something. Waiting until he opened his eyes, the moment he did, she showed him the dagger. “Where?” he asked.

  “Tira.”

  He rolled his eyes. “I told her to stay there if anything happened.”

  She’d expected him to comment on the dagger, or look surprised that Tira had gotten hold of it. One more question that will likely never get answered, she thought.

  Speaking low, he leaned in close. She tried to ignore the scent she’d always loved about him, a spice that had always made her think of the days when she would manage to get to the river market. Otherwise, she’d never focus on the words. “If Tira has found Daegan, he’s on his way to get the Queen. While he does that, we’ll need to get to the library and up to the clock tower. King Jivon won’t let the Dogs follow him up there so it’s our best chance to talk him out of this.”

  “What if he can’t be talked out of this?”

  Zhiv looked concerned. “Then we’ll have to improvise and hope the Queen shows up soon.”

  “And what about Lord Teranasin?”

  “Vyomsi? He’ll be waiting for the King at the top if he’s smart.”

  “Like us?”

  “Which is why speed is so important. He has to be unable to cast or act against the King before Jivon appears.”

  “Jivon? You’re that familiar with him?”

  Annoyed with the interruption, he said, “As a matter of fact, yes.” He sighed, his eyes full of concern now toward her. “You don’t have to follow me in there.”

  “And miss Zhiv Mikailsin’s greatest performance?”

  He scoffed and rolled not just his eyes but his whole head. “Stay close. Don’t use the dagger unless you must.”

  Walking carefully, she could see through the bushes the Dogs wandering the grounds. Tapping Zhiv’s shoulder, she said to him, “They don’t look very alert.”

  “Either they’ve already swept the grounds or they’re about to.” With a bitter edge to his voice, he said, “Remember, only the King is more powerful than the Dogs. Even the nobles are terrified of them.”

  She remembered the execution and thought, as well they should be...except for Lord Teranasin. She wondered if he was afraid of anything. Tapping Zhiv once more she said, “What will they do after?”

  “One thing at a time, goodwife.” And then they were at the edge of the bush.

  Zhiv moved a little further out to get a clearer view. When he leaned back, he said, “They’re about to do the sweep. Walk, but keep going. Don’t run. That will look out of place. For everything else, follow my lead.” He took her hand and didn’t let go until they were past the bushes.

  Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she could see a Dog turning in their direction. “Hey!” the Dog called out. “Stop.”

  Remembering Zhiv’s words, she kept going. The Dog called out again this time she heard his staff’s hard thump against the ground and her heart stoppe
d. The ground rippled underneath their feet. Her feet sank into the earth and she stumbled. She had expected Zhiv to run ahead and leave her to explain herself to the Dogs. Instead, he grabbed both her arms. “Like dead skin,” he said.

  “What?” She couldn’t understand what that meant.

  “Something my father said once. It’s like dead skin. The spell.”

  He wasn’t making any sense. And yet, she gripped his shoulders as he tried to pull her out of the ground that had begun to swallow her up.

  “Why are you here?” the Dog asked. “The grounds are currently off-limits.”

  “We were invited,” Zhiv said.

  “By whom?”

  Krysilla tried not to panic. “By Hon Hyaji,” Zhiv said. “It’s a friendly visit.”

  “There are no visits today,” the Dog said.

  Zhiv stopped trying to pull when it obviously wasn’t doing any good. “We’re not going to run off. You can let her go.”

  The Dog smirked. “Yes, I saw that.”

  Zhiv looked around, then said, “There he is. Ask him!”

  Hon Hyaji, who had been strolling along the ground, deep in thought from the startled look on his face when he heard Zhiv’s yell, seemed about to bolt until he saw Krysilla. Then, deeply concerned, he rushed toward them. “Is there something wrong?”

  “They say,” the Dog pointed at Zhiv and Krysilla, “that you’ve invited them.”

  “Indeed I have,” Hyaji said, without hesitation. “In fact, I had come out here to see if you were running through the grounds as you’re wont to do and had forgotten the time.”

  If anyone had told her that someone that innocent could have lied that well, Krysilla would have never believed them.

  Now, the Dog softened as he spoke with Hyaji. “You are aware there are to be no visits tonight.”

  “No, I was not. I was busy preparing the clock room.”

  The Dog nodded, then looked at his compatriots who were all watching them and waiting. “Very well. But keep them out of the way.”

  The ground released Krysilla, lifting her out of it until she was standing as always. Not even a trace of dirt clung to her ankles.

  “Of course.” To Krysilla and Zhiv, he smiled broadly. “Well, no time to waste. I’m glad you were able to make time for me.”

  They walked casually to the entrance, as if they were fully expected. Zhiv and Hyaji even made small talk about the weather. It wasn’t until they had entered the library that Hyaji demanded, “What are you doing here?”

  “Trying to stop the King,” Krysilla said without hesitation.

  “A baker’s wife and a fiddler?”

  Zhiv only smiled.

  Clearly agitated, Hyaji said, “He’ll be here any minute. I’ve already let Lord Teranasin upstairs to make sure everything’s ready and—”

  “In the clock room?” Zhiv asked. “Good, we’d like to speak with him.”

  “You expect me to believe that?” Hyaji said.

  Swifter than she expected, Zhiv yanked the dagger from her sash and held it to Hyaji’s throat. “We don’t have time for a chat. I’m sorry. Take us to Lord Teranasin.”

  “I could shout and the Dogs would come running.”

  “And when they do their sweep, I could make it appear that this dagger belongs to you.”

  He meant it. She could hear it in his voice.

  Hyaji stared at Zhiv for a moment, then began walking. “Quickly,” Zhiv said. “They’re about to start the sweep.”

  They entered the corridor that led to the clock tower. As they passed his cell, she noticed the stacks under the cloth were smaller. He’s getting rid of them, she realized, and felt like crying.

  “Open it,” Zhiv said. “Then go tell whomever you like.”

  Krysilla thought of the books, of knowledge destroyed without another thought because someone had declared it a sin. Even for teachers to warn others from. What if we’d forgotten the stories of the rift, she thought, and, before any sense of compassion could overtake her, said, “If you tell anyone we’re here, I’ll tell them about the books.”

  The betrayal in Hyaji’s eyes broke her heart. Perhaps, she thought, that’s all I can do. Betray.

  He pulled down the door. Zhiv let him go and, as he passed, Hyaji said without looking her in the eye, “Your secret is safe.”

  “Thank you.” She hated herself for destroying one more possible friendship. But still she followed Zhiv up into the tower, racing behind him up the spiraling stairs. He stopped, then looked around. Taking a few steps more, he said, “Keep your hand on the step below you. I need to see something.”

  “Your hand is worth more than mine?”

  “Of course.” But even though he smiled, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

  She touched the step, then felt a wave of magic sweep through, just as she had in the forest when the Dogs had searched, that didn’t reach above that step. When she looked up at Zhiv in confusion, he put a finger to his lips and grinned. He leaned forward and whispered, “Plausible deniability,” and she realized the Dogs had been told (or decided) not to look any higher than this point all so that they could honestly say they didn’t know. Taking the stairs two at a time with boots that didn’t allow any sound to escape, Zhiv raced ahead of her. He didn’t slow, didn’t hesitate as he kicked open the door.

  “You have a death wish, don’t you?” she heard Lord Teranasin say.

  Zhiv didn’t say a word as he touched the floor. It splintered and cracked and wrapped around Lord Teranasin as if he were a tree in need of bark, all the way to his chin.

  Lord Teranasin scoffed. “You can’t hold a spell like this. You aren’t strong enough.”

  “No,” Zhiv agreed, already shaking. And with a flash of steel, the dagger sliced through Lord Teranasin’s neck. “But then, I really don’t need to hold it long at all.” He grabbed Lord Teranasin’s shoulders as the floor let him go, blood drenching the wood and Zhiv’s clothes.

  “Can you help me carry him, goodwife?”

  “Where?”

  “That space beside the ladder. I want the King to see him before he shows.”

  “Zhiv, that makes no sense.”

  It was the first time she’d called him that since she’d arrived. As if he realized it, too, he smiled briefly. “Trust me.”

  They placed Lord Teranasin’s body in the corner. “It’s a ghastly sight,” she muttered.

  Zhiv was already climbing the ladder to the bell tower. “No worse than when he was alive.”

  “And you really played cards with him?” she began to climb as well.

  He turned and looked back down at her. “There’s still time to hide in the clock room.”

  “Where? Under the gears?”

  “I could think of something.”

  She remembered him shaking when he cast his spell against Lord Teranasin. “I’m not leaving you alone up here.”

  Moving out of the way, he let her climb up. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  “And what do you plan on doing?” She lifted herself out of the tunnel.

  “The same thing I’ve done ever since I became the King’s minstrel. Talk.” She followed his gaze to the enormous bell, now on its side, angled by the now assembled timberwork to face the mountains. “The dagger strikes true. Always.” He placed it in her hand and wrapped her fingers around the grip. “Hide behind this bell.” He pointed to the one to the left of the great bell, one next to the trapdoor. “If things go very badly, either run, or kill. Whichever you feel you must.”

  And for the first time, she realized this might be the last time she would ever speak to Zhiv Mikailsin. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, thinking of her agreement with the King.

  “I would have done the same if he’d asked it of me. And for worse reasons.” His smile was sad. “Don’t trouble yourself anymore with it.” He gestured for her to hide and she did, creeping behind the enormous bell in the corner. He watched her crouch down until she was barely visible, then walked s
lowly to the enormous bell on its side. She leaned down and watched him from under the bell as he touched it briefly, then looked out at the enormous sky beyond it.

  Eventually, she heard creaking sounds from the ladder. The King appeared from it. Dusting himself off after he climbed out, he said, “Thank you for taking care of Lord Teranasin, Zhiv. You’ve performed exactly as expected.”

  “I should hope so,” Zhiv said, not turning around. “You pay me enough.”

  “Not nearly enough. I should double your salary for all your usefulness to me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to work.”

  “On what, Highness?”

  “I’m sure you’ve figured it out, Zhiv. Vyomsi’s dead. You’d be a fool not to try to get some boasting out of him before he was gone.”

  “Ah, but I am a fool, Highness. The King’s fool. It’s my job.”

  “Minstrel, Zhiv. Only the Ornics had fools.”

  Now Zhiv turned, looking both puzzled and amused. “What do you plan on doing with the goodwife?”

  “Oh, she’ll wisen up eventually, as will her husband. All will be well.”

  “Is that why you put the spell on her?”

  “That? Of course. Women her age tend to get a little wild. They have yet to accept what life has offered them. Something like that provides incentive. She’ll think over her actions, discover her faults, and return eventually of her own free will. If not, her husband will do the same—the money will run out eventually, Zhiv—and really this has no bearing on our current plans.”

  “Our?” He turned now to face the King.

  “Yes. All those fine talks we had, late into night.” He paused. “You’re angry about the spell.”

  Zhiv looked tired.

  The King sighed. “I should have known when you didn’t show. But this,” he held his arms wide, “this is the exact thing we spoke of.”

  “When did we speak of this?”

  “That night when you weren’t feeling well. I knew, you see. Even though you fought through it, I knew there was something odd in your fever. You’re so energetic the rest of the time.”