Knowing Poril would rather die than make a scene in the great hall in the middle of the prince’s coming-of-age celebration, Achan passed him right by and went around to Sir Gavin. He squatted beside the knight’s chair.
“For Lightness’s sake, lad, stand up,” Sir Gavin hissed.
Confused, Achan stood. He preferred the cover of squatting behind the table. He was tired of being stared at and longed to leave the great hall.
“Achan, I want you to meet a friend of mine. This is Prince Oren Hadar.”
Prince? Achan knew of no claimant to the throne beside Prince Gidon. Achan averted his gaze for a moment, then curiosity won out. He looked up at the man seated beside Sir Gavin. Prince Oren Hadar had black hair, blue eyes, and a long, narrow nose. He wore a thin crown of gold on his head. It was so thin, in fact, that Achan might not have seen it if the torches on the wall hadn’t reflected off the shiny metal. The prince studied Achan with narrowed eyes, as if searching his memory for something.
Achan’s thrilling moment with Lady Tara had left his brain on the other side of the room. He put it to work at once. Was this man in some way related to Prince Gidon? Achan glanced to the center of the table where the prince sat presiding over his coming of age celebration.
“Prince Oren is King Axel’s baby brother,” Sir Gavin said. “Second in line for the throne, behind only Gidon.”
Achan went straight to his knees.
Prince Oren chuckled. “None of that for me, lad. And I’m no baby, ‘baby brother’ though I be.” He winked at Achan. “I think my nephew, Gidon, gets his handsome face from his mother.”
“Bah!” Sir Gavin waved his hand. “Dara was beautiful. That”—he nodded to the prince—“is far from beautiful.”
Achan failed to bite back a laugh. Sir Gavin had better watch himself or he’d be hanged for insulting the prince. People had been hanged for less around here.
The thought of unnecessary cruelty brought Lord Nathak to mind. “Sir Gavin, I need to tell you about what happened today—”
“How did you do?” Prince Oren asked. “Gavin tells me you clobbered Silvo Hamartano.”
“Only because he was over-confident, Your Highness.”
Prince Oren raised an eyebrow. “Modest.”
“No, really,” Achan said. “He assumed because I’m a stray I’d be weak. He led with a move easily deflected by any beginner, leaving him wide open and off balance.”
Again Prince Oren laughed. “I hear Sir Gavin’s logic in your words, my boy.”
“Achan.” It was Poril’s thin voice.
Pig snout! Would no one let him be for five minutes? Achan turned.
Poril walked toward him as if each step brought the old man closer to death. Approaching the high table without food, wine, or invitation was a good way to meet a noose. Poril’s gaze flickered between Lord Nathak and Prince Oren as if he were unsure who might banish him first.
Achan sighed and looked back to Sir Gavin. “I waited for you at the hand-to-hand pen, but you didn’t return, and Lord Nathak told them I couldn’t compete. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m about to be beaten for my dual roles at Sitna Manor today.” He glanced across the hall and caught Lady Tara watching him. He grinned. “It was worth it, though.”
Poril whispered, “Achan!” The cook now stood three yards from the high table. He beckoned Achan toward him with the jerk of his head.
Achan had never seen him ask so strange. “Farewell.” Achan bowed his head to Prince Oren. “It was an honor, Your Highness.”
Sir Gavin grabbed his elbow. “See here, you’ll not be whipped because of me.”
Achan waved him off. “Oh, it’s not really your fault, sir, and a very long story.”
Sir Gavin chuckled. “See what I mean? He has that way about him, does he not?”
Prince Oren flashed Achan a curious smile. The stares of both men brought a flush to Achan’s cheeks for no reason he could explain. He sensed a secret in them, something clandestine that somehow involved himself. He swallowed, bowed again to Prince Oren, and started toward Poril, who turned and made a beeline for the kitchens.
Achan was surprised to find Sir Gavin at his heels.
“Sir Gavin!” Lord Nathak’s nasal voice amplified over the chatter, sending an icy chill up Achan’s arms. “A word?”
“I’ll be right back, Achan. Don’t go anywhere.”
But Achan desperately wanted to exit the great hall. He watched Poril’s back, wondering what his reaction would be when he found Achan not following. He sighed. He’d almost take a beating just to feel some cool air on his face.
He stood where Sir Gavin had left him, torn between whom to obey. Then he saw Silvo’s dark eyes spot him. The thin squire stood and started his way, no good on his mind. Achan wasn’t willing to take that kind of beating. That settled it. He made a quick exit from the great hall.
He found Poril waiting outside. The cook gripped Achan’s arm as if squeezing juice from a lemon. “Yer through serving, yeh are. Talking with noble folk like yer one of ’em? Never has Poril been in such a place to be forced to interrupt a prince. Gods have mercy on poor, miserable Poril. Lord Nathak said to keep yeh away from the knight, but yeh went right to ’im. What’s Poril to do, I ask yeh? Into the kitchens until Poril can get his belt teh yer hide. That’s what.”
Lord Nathak would never allow Achan to train as a knight, and this proved it. Achan stalked out of the inner bailey. The sun beat down on him as if to laugh at his feeble attempt at a new life. He passed through the outer bailey and stepped into the kitchens.
He stood in the doorway and watched the women bustle about preparing desserts. He had never been filled with more rebelliousness in his life. The gods had given him a taste of noble life today and, with the exception of his bath, he didn’t want to lose it. He stepped into the kitchens, lifted a briarberry pie from the table, and slipped away.
Normally he would’ve sought out Gren, and they could’ve shared the pie together in secret. But she was engaged now. And besides, he had only bad news to share. Lord Nathak’s discovery of his training would likely mean the end of Achan’s dreams of knighthood, which crushed his hopes of rescuing Gren from a life with Riga. So instead of heading to her home or even the Corner, Achan carried his pie over the drawbridge and toward the river.
The sun shone high in the sky as Achan sank against the allown tree. He shoved a bite of pie into his mouth. The sweetness brought comfort, but changed nothing. It was foolish to hope. No stray could serve in the Kingsguard. Achan knew the law. Why had Sir Gavin insisted on breaking it?
Achan sat under the allown tree until the sun sank behind Sitna Manor, watching the rushing river and picking at the pie until it was gone. He should return and take his beating like a good stray. Instead, he lay down and dreamed of Lady Tara’s kiss.
10
“What’s this?”
Vrell could see Khai’s boots through the cave entrance from her position under the torch. He was still unconscious. It was not his voice that spoke. Nor was it Jax’s.
“Somebody done a number on him,” the voice said. “That’s quite a wallop.”
Vrell leaned to the right until she saw the speaker. A hunched man stood at Khai’s side, wearing only blackened undershorts. He had a narrow, skeletal build, but his sinewy arms and legs burst with muscles. A few wisps of black hair lay matted to his bald head. It looked like he’d tried to shave his head but had missed a few spots.
Jax stepped into Vrell’s line of sight. Her heart leapt to see him alive and well. He crouched behind the stalagmite where Khai’s wrists were bound.
“No!” Vrell scrambled to her feet and ran to the men, who turned to her in surprise. “Leave him!”
“Vrell!” Jax stood, his wide smile baring two rotten bottom teeth. “I thought the reekat ate you for sure.” He motioned back toward the river. In the dim light, she saw a wet form at the craggy base of the dripstone tree. A swollen brown beast lay where the water met the shore. In the shad
ow of the dripstone tree it was difficult to make out anything specific.
“Is it…”
“Dead,” the near-naked man said. His skin was winkled all over as if he had been in water his whole life.
Jax pointed down at Khai. “Did you do this?”
She looked at Khai’s face. A small turnip had swelled from his temple, shiny and purple. “He attacked me.” She pointed to the sticky cut on her neck. She had forgotten to clean it, not that it would matter in such a filthy place.
Jax’s bushy black eyebrows sank into a scowl. “Why would Khai attack you?”
Vrell looked at her feet. “He said he wanted my secret. He forced me to drink something bitter, but I spit it out.”
Jax sighed. “I’m sorry, Vrell. I meant to keep an eye on that.” Jax rubbed his face, fingers lingering on his right eyelid. “But I can’t leave him like this. Khai’s greedy, but he’s my partner. I need to untie him, make him comfortable. You understand?”
Vrell swallowed but nodded.
The giant pulled a dagger from his boot and cut Khai free. He lifted the unconscious Kingsguard over his shoulder and carried him into the cave.
Vrell glanced back at the wrinkled man. He was watching her with raised eyebrows. Feeling self-conscious, Vrell walked into the cave. She cleared a spot in the droppings across from the dark tunnel that led up into the cave wall and sat. She watched Jax out of the corner of her eye, but he spent only a moment settling Khai under the torch before joining the wrinkled man by the dripstone tree.
The two men dragged the reekat into the cave. Under the torchlight, the beast came into full view. It was a slug-like creature covered in short brown fur. It had the whiskers and scrunched face of a bobcat, a short tail, and webbed feet with thick claws on each toe.
Jax glanced over his shoulder to Vrell before giving the front left limb of the reekat a final tug. “Peripaso here saved me.”
“Ah, you’d of done all right.” The man — Peripaso, apparently — stood and stretched his arms overhead until his bones cracked. “We’ll just leave her for now. I’ll skin her tonight.”
“It is huge,” Vrell said.
“Aye. She’s a big one,” Peripaso said.
“But how? What do they eat that makes them so big?”
“Oh, they got themselves a filter in their mouths like a whale to swallow tiny fish from the springs. Garra, dace, suckers, and chubs.”
“Then why do they attack?”
“They’re real territorial. They got at least one nest up river. Likely have a young one. It’s the right time of year.”
Vrell kicked a beetle away from her foot. “What are we going to do now?”
“Peripaso has invited us to dine with him,” Jax said.
The wrinkled man burst into laughter. Jax joined in, the sound so jolly Vrell smirked.
A groan from Khai silenced them all.
Jax squatted beside his companion. “All right, Khai?”
The knight rolled to his side and up onto his knees. “What happened?”
“Met some help up river,” Jax said. “Peripaso here killed the reekat.”
“Jax nicked the first one,” Peripaso said.
“Scared it away.”
“Well, that’s a big one,” Khai said, staring at the beast. He turned to Peripaso. “You live down here?”
“Up in a cave. Reekats don’t leave the water much, and when they do, they’re too fat to get in my tunnel.”
Khai fingered the lump on his head and rose to his feet, glaring at Vrell. “Was the boat destroyed?”
“Only torn,” Jax said. “Peripaso says he can mend it, but we’ll have to fetch it first. It anchored when it tipped. It’s upstream a ways.” Jax tugged the handkerchief from his hair, wrung it out, then retied it. “Vrell, if you don’t mind helping Peripaso bring down supplies from his place, Khai and I will fetch the boat.”
Vrell’s eyes bulged. “Me? Go up there?” She stared up the dark tunnel.
Jax nodded. “Once we’ve eaten and the boat’s mended, we can head out again.”
“But how will you swim upstream?” Vrell asked. “The current is too strong.”
“I’m tall enough to walk it. I’ll carry Khai on my back.”
“Just leave me,” Khai said. “Thanks to the boy, I feel ill. I’ll only be a burden.”
“I’d let you rest if I could,” Jax said. “But I’ll need help should another reekat come along.”
Peripaso turned to Vrell. “What you say, laddy?”
Vrell stood. If it got them out of the underground river faster, she would do her part. “What must I do?”
“You jest follow me. Tunnels are a maze and blacker than tar. Stay close now.”
As Peripaso turned and hoisted himself into the tunnel, Vrell caught a glimpse of the brand on his back. A curly S the size of her fist popped out on his right shoulder in raised, white flesh. The mark of a stray. Vrell shivered. If anyone ever looked, they would find no such burn upon her skin. She was glad for that, of course, but it would instantly destroy her disguise.
With one last glance to Jax and Khai, Vrell heaved herself up. The tunnel was tall enough that she could walk in a squat. Humid, stale air closed in as she inched up the steep tunnel grasping onto slick, craggy rocks for leverage. Vrell’s nerves tingled with each step up and away from the light. She turned to see the entrance, a beige circle below. She did not like the idea of going into a tunnel that was blacker than tar. “Could we bring a torch along?”
“Nah. Air’s not so good. Snuffs ’em out. Long as we keep movin’, we’ll be fine.”
Vrell twisted back to the dark path and scooted after Peripaso’s fading silhouette. “How far is it?”
Despite her attempts to keep up, the old man’s form vanished. His voice drifted back from the blackness.
“We’re ’bout a quarter of the way. Tunnels wind all over Nahar and Arman. If you know the way, you can go almost anywhere. I’ve traveled ’em all. Took one all the way to Darkness. Scare me half to death when I come out to find ebens havin’ some sort of tribal ceremony. Bonfires everywhere. Watched long as I dared, then turned and come home. Caved that tunnel in right after. Didn’t like the idea of them sneakin’ up on me, like I did them.”
The tunnel leveled out. Vrell bumped into Peripaso, who had stopped. She jumped and fought back a scream.
“Feel.” His wrinkled hand patted Vrell’s shoulder, down her arm, and stopped at her wrist. He drew her hand against the stone of the passageway. It slid along, and then fell away. A side tunnel. “This one run down to the Lebab Inlet. Take almost a week to crawl through here. You could always go this way. Though it makes better sense to fix your boat and take the river. Besides, your giant friend won’t fit up here.”
All the way to the Lebab Inlet? Vrell’s mind ticked off possibilities. If she could take the tunnels, she could escape from the knights, Khai, especially. She could stay hidden from the prince and the ebens. She could talk to Mother. “Can you go to Walden’s Watch through there?” If she could get back there, she would ask Mitt to hide her until Lady Coraline’s return.
“Sure. Can even climb your way as far as ArokLake.”
Vrell’s heart raced. Maybe she could sneak away. If Peripaso would show her the right tunnel…
Something grabbed Vrell’s hand and she gasped and swatted at it.
“Is jest me now.” Peripaso pulled her hand along the rock to the right until she could feel a small opening. “Passed by this one hundred times ’fore I found it. Takes me right to Xulon’s dungeons.” He released Vrell’s hand.
“Who built all these tunnels?”
“They say King Granton I had the heart of his granddaddy, King Trevyn the Explorer. But ol’ King Trevyn discovered pretty much all there is in Er’Rets, so King Granton found new places to explore. He liked the idea of being able to sneak his men up to jest ’bout anywhere too.”
She heard his steps scratching away and stayed close behind, occasionally smacking he
r hands or head on the invisible rock. Not being able to see him brought stabs of fear. She sought out his mind.
Seven…eight…nine…ten…left. Six more paces to the fork.
Peripaso hobbled forward a bit more and stopped. “This fork will get you to the sea that lies south of NaharPeninsula.”
Vrell reached out with her hands, feeling for the hole. She would never venture into one of these tunnels alone, unless… “Could you tell me how? I am hoping to travel to Walden’s Watch.”
“You jest come from there, boy. Goin’ to Mahanaim, aren’t you?” There was a moment of silence in the dark, then, “You a prisoner?”
If you only knew. “Not exactly. I am being taken there for an apprenticeship.”
“Well, that’s promisin’, then. Few strays get such opportunity.”
But she was not a stray! Vrell groaned inside. She heard Peripaso shuffling onward and hurried along. “Why do you live down here…up here…wherever this is?”
Peripaso chuckled. “I’m also a stray, laddy.”
“But it is so dark down here. Life as a stray is not so awful.”
“Oh, I don’t mind dark.” He chuckled. “You know the story of King Axel’s death?”
“Of course.”
Vrell’s knees were sore from crawling on the rock. She raised herself onto her toes, but her back struck the ceiling. The most comfortable position was back on her hands and knees. At least the humidity had died down some, which also made the rocks less slippery.
“Lived in Armonguard at the time.” Peripaso’s voice faded some as he continued on.
Vrell leaned her shoulder against the tunnel wall and crawled after his voice.
“Met the king twice, I did. Worked in the falconry, mostly cleaning cages. My master was kind. Let me feed and hold the birds. King Axel had a gyrfalcon, finest I ever seen. Spent hours visitin’ that bird, takin’ it huntin’. Both times we met, he’s kind to me. Didn’t mind strays. Queen Dara, now she’s another matter. Look. We’s almost there.”
Something silvery glowed in the distance.
By Darkness Hid bok-1 Page 16