The rain did help them by emptying the streets and making their passage much faster than it would have been on a bright day. Still, last night’s hasty biscuits and cheese felt a long time ago, and his stomach was growling by the time they led their horses up the final slope toward the sheer stone walls of his home.
Zania touched his elbow and they stopped in an alley just before reaching the immediate precincts of Royal House. He pushed back his hood while Zania reached into her waist pouch for the makeup she had there, leaning forward to touch his face with a few streaks of shading, making his cheekbones seem flatter, and giving his jaw a contour it did not naturally have. This gate would be the real test. The Royal House Guard had seen Edmir every day, though perhaps not from very close up. This was where his lightened hair, brushed back so un-characteristically from his face, his earrings, and the fact that both he and Zania were dressed in Jarlkevo colors, would be put to the test. He scratched his chin. Along with everything else, he was letting his beard grow in, though it was much sparser than Parno’s.
“Perhaps I should cough when we get to the gate,” he suggested. “That way I can cover my face.”
“Haven’t you learned anything? Coughing will only make everyone look at you. I’m telling you, soldier—” Zania was careful not to say his name, “Just act as naturally as you can. Look around you, be respectful, let me do the talking.”
Just like rehearsal, he thought.
The walls of the Royal House were not as thick as those of the city itself, but thick enough to provide for two offset pairs of gates. Even this early in the morning, even in the rain, these were public gates, and he and Zania found them standing wide open. But there were armed guards on watch, and everyone passing through here, even those wearing the Royal dark blue, would have to stop and account for themselves.
Ahead of them were a farmer and his son with a donkey cart, obviously delivering their load of lettuces to the kitchens. Sitting quietly on his horse as they waited their turn was the hardest thing Edmir had ever done. The last time he’d passed through was only two moons ago, he realized with a sense of shock. He’d been on his way to Probic, riding at the head of his escort of twenty handpicked soldiers, most from High Noble Houses with only a handful of the lesser nobility, followed by wagons carrying provisions for the journey, changes of clothing, tents, even musical instruments. His friends, Jenshan of Toron House and SuRohl of Kinton House, had been riding beside him that day. Had either of them made it back to Beolind?
And would they know me, if they had?
He and Zania dismounted, and Edmir saw that both the guards there were strangers to him. He began to relax.
“Members of House Jarlkevo with a report for our House,” Zania said again as they drew level with the guards.
“How go things in your mountains, then, Jarlkevos?” the guard asked, as he took in their colors, the Jarlkevo brands on at least one of their horses, and the Jarlkevo bear heads stamped into the leather of their saddles.
“Well enough,” Zania was answering with a grin. “More to see here, though, that’s for certain, even in this rain.”
Just as Edmir was sure the man was going to pass them through without further hindrance, a guard officer stepped into the gate area and approached them. Though wearing the same uniform as the two guards already at the gate, the officer’s shirtsleeves showed the shine of silk, and there was gold braiding edging her tunic, not just turned cloth.
“Did I hear you say Jarlkevo?” she said as she came nearer.
Edmir knew her, and he tightened his grip on his reins, to keep from lifting his hand to cover his face. Section Leader Megz Primeau, champion swordplayer, and the current holder of the Queen’s White Blade. She had once shown Edmir how to parry her secret thrust, and he had promised never to show it to anyone else.
“Yes, my lady,” Zania said, ducking her head.
“I’m section leader, not ‘my lady,’ ” Megz said, her eyes taking in every detail of their clothing and crests. She looked at their faces, and Edmir hastily lowered his eyes. That would be what a young guard would do when faced with authority, he thought. It was what young guards had usually done when he looked at them.
“Well, it seems your House was telling the truth when she said she’d sent all her best people to the queen’s armies already. You two look as though you’ve hardly spent three weeks between you holding a sword.” The first guard laughed, but not unkindly.
Edmir judged it was safe to lower his head entirely.
“Do you know your way?”
“Yes, we do, my—I mean, yes, Section Leader.”
“Pass them in,” Megz said. “Give my regards to your House,” she added as she stepped out of their way.
“We will, and thank you,” Zania said. She led her horse forward and Edmir was quick to follow her. As they remounted and walked their horses into the clear area of courtyard beyond the gate, heading to the right toward House Jarlkevo’s rooms, he risked a look back over his shoulder. Section Leader Megz was still standing under the arch watching them, her fists on her hips.
Valaika Jarlkevo was gray-faced. Her hand kept rising to her trembling lips and sinking again into her lap, as if she didn’t have the strength to hold it up. She had aged twenty years, Parno thought, in less than twenty minutes.
“My Lord Prince.” She kept repeating it, over and over, her voice drained of all life and substance. Finally she struggled to her feet. Edmir moved forward, but Parno gave the older woman his arm, indicating to Edmir with a twist of his head that the boy should step back. Shaking, Valaika went to her knees before her nephew, and, taking his hand, pressed her forehead to it in submission.
“My Lord Prince,” she began again. “I beg you, hold your hand back from my consort. Do not tell your mother the queen. Let me— give me a chance to—”
“But, Valaika.” Edmir was white under the tan that a moon of traveling had given him. “Jarlkevoso,” he corrected when Parno coughed. His aunt had addressed the boy with his formal title. “It wasn’t Sylria— that is, she was tricked. But no harm was done, at least not to us. This may even work in our favor. She believes we’re dead, and she’ll report that to Avylos.”
These words didn’t seem to help. Valaika shook her head from side to side as if she would never be able to stop.
“She’ll report it to Avylos. My consort. My love. And she’ll report to Avylos.”
“He threatened her, Valaika.” Now it was Zania’s turn to speak up. “Threatened your child.”
Parno had taken a step back, and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, the only way he could keep still. This was getting them nowhere.
“Listen to me, all of you.” The ring of command in his voice made everyone, even Valaika, even Edmir, turn to him. “Of course it was not Sylria. Avylos magicked her somehow, as we know he’s magicked others. She’ll be as horrified when she learns of it as you are now, Valaika. But—” And here he waited, making sure he had their absolute attention. He must give no one the chance to raise the question of whether the Consort Jarlkevo would put the life of her prince before the life of her son. Let them not think of that. “Sylria won’t have a chance to be horrified if we don’t deal with Avylos. This time, Edmir and Zania were able to turn his trickery to our advantage. As Edmir said, Avylos won’t bother watching a dead man, so we now have reinforcements we didn’t have yesterday. Get up, Valaika. I grieve for you, but we cannot allow your private grief to slow us, or change our course. We cannot let him win.”
This time it was Edmir who offered his arm, and Parno did not interfere. When Valaika had regained her feet, Edmir embraced her. Zania stood watching, tapping her lips with the fingers of her clasped hands.
Parno turned toward the door. “Stand away, Edmir,” he said. “Someone comes and we could not explain what a common guard is doing embracing his House.”
Edmir did step back, but it was not until Zania took hold of his sleeve and pulled him away that he really took note of
what he was doing and where he was standing. They had taken up reasonable positions to the right and left of the doorway, and Parno had seated Valaika once more in her chair when the expected knock came at the door.
“Come.” Valaika almost managed to sound like her old self.
The door opened inward, hiding Edmir behind it. A voice announced, “The Lady Prince Kera,” and she walked into the room.
Parno kept his hand pressed down on Valaika’s shoulder, holding her in her seat. The last thing they needed was for the older woman to rise up and fall flat on her face. Her color was only now returning, and she still looked very pinched about the mouth.
Kera came all the way into the room and waited until the door had been pulled shut behind her. As soon as she heard the click of the latch she ran forward, her hands held out to her aunt.
“What is it?” she said. “What’s happened. Is it Edmir?”
“It is Edmir,” the boy said, striding forward from his place by the door.
At the sound of her brother’s voice Kera spun around so quickly the skirt of her stiffened gown swung like a bell.
Well, Parno thought. He hasn’t spent the better part of a moon pretending to be an actor without learning a thing or two about theatrics.
For a moment Kera did not move, and Parno thought with a sudden sickening drop to his stomach that she, too, had been magicked in the way of the City Lord in Probic, in the way Sylria Consort Jarlkevo had been magicked. And from the look in Edmir’s eyes, he, too, feared that his sister would not know him. But then the girl made a noise in her throat that turned Parno’s heart over and ran forward.
“Quietly, children. Quietly,” he said. “We don’t know who is on the other side of the door.”
His words checked the brother and sister just as they reached each other. They gripped arms for a moment before embracing fully, Kera with her face buried in her brother’s shoulder.
Let this be an omen, Parno pleaded. So may I be reunited with my Brother.
Kera stepped back, wiping at her eyes. She reached out and ran her hands over his dyed hair, her fingers resting for a moment on the rings in his ears. “How are you here? When did you come? How . . . ? Oh, Ed, I thought you were dead, I read your journals, I’m so sorry.”
That brought a smile to Edmir’s lips. “It’s all right, Kera. Everything’s all right.”
That was an overstatement, if anything was, but Parno held his tongue.
A small cough reminded him that Edmir had not arrived alone. Zania, her cheeks flushed and the corners of her mouth turned slightly down stepped forward.
“Your pardon, Princess, Jarlkevoso,” she said. “But we’ve had no food today. Before we do anything else—”
“Of course.” Valaika looked up at Parno.
“Princess,” he said, as he held out a chair for Kera. He jerked his head at Edmir and the prince returned to his position to one side of the door.
Motioning Zania to stay still, Parno opened the door just enough to let the lady page who was waiting there see Kera seated behind him.
“The Lady Prince begs you will see that refreshments are brought,” he murmured. The young woman’s eyes brightened and her smile spread. Evidently the idea of a trip down to the busy kitchens pleased her more than standing in silent attendance in a doorway. She bobbed her head and went off practically dancing.
Parno turned back into the room to find Edmir setting chairs around the table and Zania at the window shutters.
“Leave them” he told her. “The rain falls in the other direction, and as warm as it is, someone will notice if they are closed.”
There was not really enough room around the small table for all five of them to sit comfortably, but the very closeness meant they could speak softly and lessen their chance of being overheard. Parno was about to take what would have been Dhulyn’s favorite spot— against the wall between the two windows—when Kera settled the problem by sitting on the arm of Edmir’s chair.
“Princess Kera, please.” Zania, still on her feet, indicated one of the chairs. “I can stand.”
“And eat standing up? I don’t think so, you’ve had hardships enough from the look of my brother.” Kera patted Edmir on the head as if he had been a huge dog. She was smiling as she spoke, but the sparkle had gone from her eyes. Parno could see that somehow, there was a shadow on the young girl’s happiness. Well, and why not? She might have her brother back, alive and well, but they still had to deal with the Blue Mage.
“Princess,” Parno said. “What occurred after my entry into the garden?”
Kera’s narrative was interrupted only by the arrival of servants carrying trays of tarts, some berry, some cheese, and others of spiced meat, and a jug each of water and cider. Edmir and Zania listened to the rest of Kera’s story with mouths full.
“I don’t know that we accomplished anything, except perhaps to make Avylos suspicious of me,” Kera concluded.
“We must kill Avylos, or else destroy the Stone.” Edmir was quiet, but forceful.
“Both, if we can manage it.” Kera seemed as determined as her brother.
Lips parted, Zania looked from one face to another. “I think you forget,” she said. “The Muse Stone is my property, mine and my family’s. You can’t just destroy it, I need it.”
“I may need it myself, for that matter,” Parno said, before anyone else could answer her. “If it is the Stone that has taken Dhulyn Wolfshead’s memories, then it may be needed to restore her.”
“You would risk everything on that chance?” Kera asked not as though she would disagree, but as if she actually wanted to know. Dhulyn must somehow have made an impression on the girl, either before, or after her memory loss.
“She’s my Partner. In Battle or in Death.” She is my world, he refused to say aloud. If I have lost her . . .
“Does she still have my great-uncle’s book?” Zania asked. “Surely, with both the Stone and the book, we can find another Scholar, we can learn how the Stone works, and . . .” Her voice trailed away at the look on Parno’s face.
“Does Dhulyn remember the book? Or how to read it?” he asked. Zania subsided, pushing her cup away from her. From the look on her face, Parno thought, she would not agree to a plan that meant destroying the Stone. Any more than he would agree to a plan that meant leaving Dhulyn.
Kera’s brow was furrowed. She looked down into the cup of cider she held in her free hand. “It would be best if we could simply put an end to Avylos. But how likely is that, here in his stronghold, with his source of power at hand? And if we fail? We must secure the Stone, not only for your sake, Zania Tzadeyeu, nor for Dhulyn Wolfshead’s, but because it is the source of Avylos’ power. One of two things will happen if we have the Stone. Either Avylos’ powers will eventually wane to the point where we can deal with him, or, we can learn how to use the Stone to neutralize him. So, first the Stone, then Avylos.”
Parno smiled. He would wager his pipes that Kera was the thinker in the family. Edmir had better not marry her off too far away, she might very well be his best counselor. It took the others a few minutes longer, but soon enough they were all nodding in agreement. Zania, in particular, was all smiles.
“We can get in over the wall,” Parno said. “Zania, Edmir, and I.”
Kera made a sharp movement that had them all looking at her again. She flushed, almost as though she were guilty of something. “Not Edmir. The one thing we can be sure of is that Avylos wants him dead. He can’t walk into danger like that. From here, he could still manage to escape.”
“Escape to what?” Edmir said.
Zania put her hand on his arm. “Better a live playwright than a dead prince.”
From his angle to one side of them, Parno was the only one who could see the look Edmir gave Zania. It was the look of a man tempted almost beyond his ability to withstand. But perhaps he wasn’t the only one who saw something pass between them, Parno thought. Kera was looking at her brother as if seeing him for the first time.
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“There would be no point in my escaping without you,” he said to Zania. “What use is a playwright without a troupe?”
“Then I will go,” Kera put in. “Edmir, we can’t risk everyone. One of us must remain alive to keep fighting if we’re not successful—”
“Or to tell our tale, if that’s what’s left to us,” Zania added.
“Stop.” When he was sure he had their full attention, he continued.
“The one who has the best chance of getting out alive will go in. That would be me. The only other one who can contribute something to the fight will go in. That would be Zania with her knowledge of the Stone.”
Kera was nodding her agreement. “I will get Avylos away by telling him that my mother wants to see him. There are often delays in getting to the queen, even for Avylos, and I can make sure there are more than usual. By the time he gets to her presence, you’ll have ample time to get to the Stone, and get out again. And then we all escape.”
“I will not leave without my Partner.” Let them make of that what they’d like.
“But, Parno . . .”
He raised his hand, palm out. “I cannot. It is our Common Rule. Even if Dhulyn Wolfshead was not my Partner, I could not leave a Mercenary Brother behind me in such a condition. I must either persuade her, or bring her with us by force.” Or kill her.
Parno stopped Kera as she reached the door.
“Did she say anything of me?” No need to say who “she” was.
“She’s troubled, that’s clear. At times she looks at me almost like her old self, or she seems about to speak and then it fades again, and she falls silent.” Kera shot a glance back at the others around the table and then faced him again. “She said she looked for the Mercenary badge and all she saw was scarring.”
A cold hand clutched at his heart and stopped his breath. “And is it gone?”
“I don’t know, I asked to see for myself, but we were interrupted by Avylos. Could it be a magic? Are they easy to remove?”
“I would not have thought so.”
The Soldier King Page 35