by Bell, Hilari
SORAHB CREPT ALONE into the Hrum’s camp and stole enough of their uniforms to garb himself and a hand of loyal men.
Then Sorahb Led them into the city of Setuafon, into the old gahn’s palace, the very heart of the Hrurn governor’s Lair. There he and his men reft away the gold that woo the lifeblood of the Hrum army. But as they fled with the treasure, disaster truck.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SORAYA
THE PEDDLER SENT a message asking Jiaan to meet them in Setesafon. The winter rains were finally letting up with the onset of spring, so they’d made better time returning to the city. But the peddler said they all needed to learn what the committee thought of Garren’s progress, and what they intended to do, as soon as possible. Soraya agreed with that, though she had her doubts about the peddler’s motives: When he talked about the gold, there was a gleam in his eyes that she didn’t trust. It wasn’t greed, either. She’d have felt better about greed, for greed was usually predictable, controllable. The glint in the peddler’s eyes was mischief, and she didn’t trust that at all. She sighed. At least he had the sense to hide it from Jiaan, who had arrived last night, muddy, tired, and in no mood for mischief.
“I’m thinking,” the peddler told him, “that we should still be regarding that gold as our target. The committee is so well protected now that we’ve no hope of taking them, and it’s always harder to make off with a shouting, struggling man than a chest of inanimate stuff. Besides, judging from the comments the servants have overheard, Shir and his ruffians did a decent job. The committee, so I’m told, is none too pleased with the governor.” He reached for the teapot, realized his mug was still full, and set it down again, but that was the only sign of nervousness that showed.
Soraya had hoped to rent a room for this breakfast conversation, but a private room in a Setesafon inn cost more than the three of them together could afford, so they sat at a table in the tap room, their privacy protected by nothing but the easy chatter coming from the other tables and their own lowered voices.
“That’s good,” said Jiaan. “But they haven’t suddenly stopped guarding the gold, have they?”
“No.” A stubborn look came over the peddler’s face. “Of course they guard it. I’m just saying we might have a chance. We should at least try to learn if it’s possible.”
“No matter how great the risk?” Jiaan asked, an unnatural gentleness in his voice.
“The potential gain is worth some risk. That gold’s not only for bribing the Kadeshi, you know. There’s army supply money in with it, and pay for their troops. If Garren lost it—”
“He’d probably just take what he needs from our merchants, instead of following Hrum law and buying it,” said Jiaan. “And as for the risks, well, you wouldn’t be taking them, would you?”
The peddler flushed. “I’m known too many of the Hrum who are fighting at Mazad now,” he said. “I was seen by some of the men that were there before them too. I don’t dare go near the Hrum.”
“No,” said Jiaan coldly. “You don’t dare. But you’ve willing to send others in your place.”
The peddler drew a deep breath, visibly struggling to control his temper. “If those other men were having a decent chance of success, then—”
“No,” Jiaan repeated. “When I heard that your plan had … that the committee beat you to Setesafon, I brought Patrius along with me. I’ve instructed my people to release him outside the city, just before—”
“You’re letting him go?” said Soraya. “Just … just releasing him?”
“Why not? Our first plan failed, so now we have to move on to mine. Patrius will warn Garren and the committee about Siatt’s treachery, and offer to exchange the Kadeshi troops for my Hrum prisoners. And they’d better agree,” Jiaan added grimly, “because I’ll have to let those prisoners go in a few weeks—that or kill or starve them.”
A brooding silence fell. Soraya wanted to deny that she and the peddler had failed, but they had failed. And while she hated the Hrum, the thought of hundreds of men slowly starving in the narrow rock crevices that made up the desert’s natural cells was a horror she would not be party to—and she knew the Suud wouldn’t either. Without the gold …
“Without the gold, he can’t feed the prisoners,” she told Kavi. “He’s right. We have to trade them for the Kadeshi.”
“But if we could get the gold … oh, you’re right. At this point we ’re likely too short on time to be buying food and smuggling it into the desert anyway. If the Hrum got wind of a shipment of food that big, they’d probably try to trace it.”
“I thought of that,” said Jiaan softly. “I wondered if you had.”
“Yes,” said Soraya. “We talked about how to buy the food near the passes and smuggle it in in small—”
The peddler’s face hardened. “That’s not what he means, Lady. He thinks I wanted the Hrum to be following them in.”
“It did cross my mind,” said Jiaan. “After all, you’ve already changed sides twice …”
“Just once,” said the peddler, his voice as soft and almost as deadly as Jiaan’s. “I was on the Hrum ’ side from the start, or at least against the deghans’. And if they weren’t—”
Soraya laid a hand on his arm, stopping him, but it was too late. The words “if they weren’t all dead” might as well have been spoken aloud. Even with her shilshadu sensing closed down she could feel Kavi’s blazing rage and Jiaan’s cold hate.
“We can’t afford this,” she said, her own voice low, for people at the nearby tables were staring. “We need his spies,” she told Jiaan. “He knows the people who’ve made contacts with the palace servants, remember. He’ll be able to tell us, if anyone can, how Garren reacts to your offer.”
“And you know that he’s right,” she added to Kavi. “We didn’t reach Shir in time. It probably wouldn’t matter if we had, since he attacked them on his own anyway. Our plan failed—it’s time to try his.”
“I already admitted … ah, Flame take it!” The peddler rose and stalked off, leaving Jiaan scowling after him.
“He is on our side,” said Soraya softly, “and we need him. Every third peasant in the countryside sends him news. Or at least they send it to Sorahb through him. He’s done a lot toward getting rid of the Hrum.”
Jiaan’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes flashed at her defense. This was no longer the humble page boy who had served Soraya’s father.
“I know what he’s done,” said Jiaan at last. He looked tired now, though the anger was still there. “I know we need him. I just wish I were certain we could trust him.”
He didn’t ask why she was certain, Soraya noticed. After living in close contact with the Suud for so many months, he had to have seen some things. How strange, this Farsalan need to deny that the Suud had magic, and how deep that need went. If she hadn’t woken out of a sound sleep and seen Maok dancing in the fire, would Soraya have denied it? Would she be without it now? She shivered.
“Don’t worry,” she said, reassuring herself as much as Jiaan. “I know where he’s staying. I’ll stop by every day and ask if there’s news.”
THREE DAYS LATER there was news, and it wasn’t good.
They met in the same tap room, at the same dark corner table, but this late in the evening, past the Hrum’s curfew by several marks, the room was full of men who had settled in for an evening’s drinking. The noise level was so high Soraya could hardly hear herself think, much less overhear what was said at another table. She wondered if all these men had paid to stay at the inn tonight, or if they were drunk enough to think they could evade the Hrum patrols—which wasn’t too hard if you were sober. After almost a week in the city, Soraya was getting adept at it.
“What’s Garren doing?” Jiaan demanded. “I haven’t heard a word from them. I thought… I knew it might take a while to make the arrangements, but I thought he’d answer me immediately.”
“In a way you have been answered,” said the peddler. “Or at least this is th
e only answer you’ve going to get. Garren’s not making the trade.”
For the moment even Jiaan subdued his anger to attend to more urgent concerns. “How can he refuse? Almost six hundred experienced soldiers for a horde of untrained peasants that he knows will turn on his army? He’d have to be mad—”
“Not mad,” the peddler interrupted. “Desperate. They say he’s recalled Barmael to come and impress the committee with their plan, for they have to be taking Mazad. But they need more men to do it, and Garren thinks that if he pulls men out of any city or town in Farsala, the people there will erupt in rebellion. According to Garren’s sources this whole country is just waiting for a chance to rise, cast out the tax collectors, loot army storage depots, and generally rebel.”
“Is that true?” Jiaan asked, startled.
“In part,” said Kavi, “though probably not as true as Garren thinks. Sorahb has taken on more life than we expected. Folks everywhere are organizing themselves to rise in his name. After all, he’s got a great army hidden in the desert, poised to spring out and destroy Garren’s whole force as soon as the time is right.”
“No, he doesn’t,” said Jiaan. “We can help Siddas defend Mazad, but that’s all. We won’t even succeed there if Garren brings in enough troops.”
“He knows that,” said Kavi. “That’s his solution to the problem. He’s going to take the Kadeshi—there’s near seven thousand of them, by the way,” he added. “We’ve heard from some folk who live near the Kadeshi border, and they say they’re already gathering—”
“Seven thousand?” Jiaan’s voice rose. Soraya started to demand quiet and then shrugged. They were already the quietest group in the room. Two tables away men were singing and banging their mugs on the wooden surface, except for one man who had slipped off the bench and was pounding his mug on the floor.
“Seven thousand,” Kavi confirmed. “You can see why your prisoners don’t look so good to him, can’t you? His plan is to use the Kadeshi to flood the defenses at Mazad. He’s going to throw the whole lot of them at the walls, with so many ladders the guard will be swamped. And once they’re over the walls, the rest of the troops can come in. He’s heeded your warning,” said Kavi grimly, “to the extent that he’ll only be arming the Kadeshi with clubs, so if they do turn on the Hrum, the Hrum will make short work of killing them. But he doesn’t think Siatt will tell them to turn on the Hrum troops until they’re fighting against Siatt—and that’ll be some other strategus’ problem. Have you thought about that?” Kavi added bitterly.
Soraya glared at him but Jiaan shrugged off the barb. “How are you getting so much information? This isn’t something Garren would talk about in front of Farsalan servants.”
“That’s true,” said Soraya, remembering. “He sent all the servants out of the command tent when he discussed anything secret, and let his men serve themselves.”
“Actually,” said Kavi. “Most of it’s coming from Patrius. Not directly,” he said as Jiaan’s mouth opened in protest. “But it seems our tactimian is so angry about the governor’s refusal to ransom his men that he’s taken to muttering about it, complaining to his fellow officers, members of the committee, even their staff … and he often does it where the servants can hear him.”
“He wants us to know,” said Jiaan. “He wants us to save the Kadeshi troops.”
“Why?” Soraya asked. “I mean, he’s a Hrum officer …” Her voice trailed off, for both Kavi and Jiaan were shaking their heads.
“He’s a good man, as well as a Hrum officer,” said the peddler.
“And in a way he is fighting for them,” Jiaan added. “He’s fighting for his empire’s honor.”
Soraya wasn’t as certain of this Patrius as they seemed to be. “If he’s trying to deceive you—”
“It’s not Patrius alone,” said the peddler. “Most of the details have come from people overhearing him, but there are other sources as well. The committee’s not overfond of Garren’s fine plan either, and … I’m interpreting here, mind, but it sounds as if they’re not going to stop Garren unless he out and out breaks Hrum law, for fear that his father will use their intervention as grounds to get out of the bargain. It sounds like getting rid of Garren senior is as high a priority for the senate as getting rid of Garren junior is for us.”
Soraya wondered if Ludo was one of his sources. “So we can’t expect the committee to intervene. We have to do it ourselves.”
“From Garren’s point of view,” said Jiaan, “it’s a good plan. If he sends seven thousand Kadeshi at Mazad’s walls, they’ll swamp the defenders. They’ll take huge losses, but for Garren that’s probably a bonus,” he added bitterly. “They’ll be less of a threat in the future. And the fact that he’s using Hrum troops as a … a human sacrifice won’t matter because they’re not Hrum, only allies. Untrustworthy allies, at that. It’s a great plan, if you have no honor and no heart. No wonder Patrius is passing on information.”
“But will it be doing him any good?” asked the peddler softly.
“What do you mean?” said Soraya.
“Now that we know what Garren plans, is there anything we can do to stop him?”
Kavi had answered her question, but he was looking at Jiaan.
“I could bring the army out of the desert,” Jiaan said. “If we attack them before they reach Mazad—they’ll be untrained peasants armed with clubs—we could kill a lot of them. Maybe even enough to keep them from making a difference in the battle. Our casualties would be high, but … if we kill those men, even if Garren is the one who forced it on us, are we any better than he is? Patrius isn’t the only one with an army’s honor at stake. Not to mention five hundred prisoners that I’m going to have to release or murder in cold blood if I can’t feed them.”
He looked older than his eighteen years, and so like Soraya’s father that sudden tears rose in her eyes.
“Unless,” said Jiaan slowly, “Garren doesn’t send for the Kadeshi at all. Unless he can’t, because the gold is gone.”
Soraya’s gaze turned to the peddler. He had anticipated this, she thought. There was a bit of smugness in his expression, but mostly it was sober. She suddenly found herself wishing that the mischief would return.
“When that gold leaves for Kadesh, every guard Garren can spare will be watching it,” said the peddler. “And I don’t know this, but it wouldn’t surprise me if Siatt sent some troops, real warriors, to escort it as well. And the problems with taking your army away from Mazad still apply, don’t they?”
He had an idea. Soraya could see it in his face. She and Jiaan stared at him.
“So we’d have to be taking it before it’s shipped out—from the very heart of the old gahn’s palace, right under the noses of all Garren’s guards. What are you staring at me for? I’m a peddler, not a burglar.”
Soraya and Jiaan stared at him, and he gave up and grinned. “But I know someone who is.”
· · ·
“WE’VE GOT GOOD information about the way they’ve organized their security at the palace,” said the middle-aged laundress, setting several large rolls of parchment on the table where she folded dried linen. “But it’s tight. I don’t know how you could even get into the vault, much less be getting anything out.”
They were meeting in the laundry instead of in the house next door because the laundress, Nadi, had young children, and she didn’t want them to wake up and overhear something they shouldn’t know. Hama, of course, already knew everything.
Soraya had only agreed to meet with Nadi in the first place when she learned that the laundress was Hamas mother—and even then she’d had to convince Jiaan. But once Jiaan met Nadi himself … there was something in the woman’s lined face, a forthright endurance, that all but compelled trust.
The laundry was filled with tubs and long lines of drying linen. The rustling quiet, the shadowed corners where the lamplight didn’t reach, the empty, hanging shirts and shifts made the room feel eerie to Soraya. But the great furnace,
which was kept burning to help dry the clothes even when it wasn’t heating water, made the room warm—and on this dark, dripping night that was worth a bit of eeriness.
Since Nadi’s workers had left for their own homes before the curfew, their privacy was assured. The Hrum patrols, Nadi had said, would think nothing of it if they saw lamplight around the shutters, for she and her older children sometimes stayed late to do a bit of mending or mix a batch of soap. The only one Kavi seemed worried might find out about them was someone named Sim. But when Nadi said she’d taken care of that, the peddler had shrugged and taken her word for it.
“I’ve got an idea for getting the gold out,” said Hama quietly. “The governor only moved into the palace when he learned that the committee was coming. It was supposed to be the symbol of his final victory, moving in.” A smile tugged at her lips. “When he heard about the committee arriving, he went and declared his victory early. For us that’s good,” she added. “The Hrum know exactly how to keep their camps secure, but this big, sprawling palace is new to them, and they’ve had to set up new procedures. I haven’t tested them, but I bet there’s a lot of confusion. And confusion is something a burglar can always use.”
Jiaan looked dubious. He had only met Hama briefly last fall when she had brought Kavi news of the siege towers, and a sixteen-year-old girl speaking so confidently about burglary did sound odd. But Jiaan hadn’t seen her slip out of the bushes and onto the cart, as smooth and silent as a serpent, or the speed and deftness with which she’d opened the slaves’ shackles.
Soraya smiled at her. “So what’s your idea?”
“First, let’s consider the obstacles,” said Nadi, unrolling the parchment on the long table. It held a large, wonderfully proportioned drawing of the palace and its gardens.
Soraya caught one corner of the parchment and studied it. “This is incredible. It’s as if you were a bird looking down on the palace, except with all the ceilings gone so you can see inside.”