Mica grinned in delight as he reverently lifted the books from their storage place. “Nice work, squire,” he told Linsha. He laid the books side by side on the counter and opened the first one. “These are records from a temple here in Sanction. They begin before the invasion by Highlord Ariakas and the dragonarmy. Apparently the priests taught minor healing arts there.”
“Would they have known of a plague up near Kalaman?” Linsha asked, eyeing the books dubiously.
“Maybe. If it was brought to their attention in some way. Hmmm … this is interesting.” The dwarf’s attention became locked on the book before him.
When he made no effort to share his observations or invite her to look at one of the books, Linsha drifted away. She was too tired to make the effort anyway. Working so hard in the heat of the day combined with the effects of her blood loss had sapped her strength away. She felt like a candle left too long in the sun. She wandered over to a corner away from the spilled pools of ink, propped her back against the walls, and slowly let her knees bend until she was sitting on the floor. Her head sank back and her eyes closed. Exhaustion overwhelmed her.
She lost track of the time as she dozed. Dreams came and went, fleeting images plucked from her subconscious that tickled her fancy or tore at her emotions. They came and went and came again, whirling around and around, like her juggling balls, in an endless circle. She dreamed of a strange orange cat and a black dragon, of a ship that burned without being consumed, of her mother dying of the plague while she sat helplessly by. She saw Varia’s moon eyes staring at her from the night and she heard the owl say, “You will follow your heart.” The words echoed and reechoed into another vision of Lord Bight, laughing softly at her in the darkness, “Which will you prove to be when the time comes?”
She heard more voices: Sir Liam Ehrling, the Grand Master of the Knights of Solamnia, whispered the Oath in her ear; a faceless Knight of the Clandestine Circle repeated over and over, “At all costs,” until she thought she would scream. Other voices came, voices she did not know, and they talked over her and around her in an endless bedlam of sound that thundered in her head and drove all the other dreams back into the dark recesses of her mind.
All at once one familiar voice called her name softly, insistently. The tones titillated her heart, sending it tripping over its own beat. The nuances of his words warmed her with pleasure. The other voices faded into reality, and Linsha realized she was awake. There were other men in the shop, and one in particular was very close to her.
She opened her eyes, looked up, and fell into Ian Durne’s blue gaze. Without conscious effort, her face ignited in a dazzling smile that warmed her skin to roses and lit her eyes like jade touched with sunlight.
She saw him respond in kind, simply and with delight. Their eyes locked in a rapt gaze that excluded all but the tantalizing attraction they saw in each other.
Neither one of them realized how long they stayed there, staring at each other, until the two Governor’s Guards who came with the commander elbowed each other and loudly cleared their throats.
Commander Durne stood up and quelled them with one raised eyebrow. He offered a gloved hand to Linsha to help her up.
Trembling inside, she took it and let him pull her to her feet. She wasn’t certain she had the strength to make it on her own anyway. Her knees felt wobbly and her heart was pounding. But whether it was the waking from her dreams or the unexpected presence of Ian Durne that caused her weakness, she did not know.
“Two City Guards told me you had run into some trouble,” the commander said.
“A couple of looters,” Mica replied, still engrossed in a book. “The squire took care of them.”
Durne turned back to Linsha and indicated her torn, bloody shirt. “You were injured.”
“Yeah. The dwarf took care of that,” Linsha retorted.
The commander’s lip twitched in a controlled smile. “Are you well enough to continue your duties?” he asked Linsha.
“Of course. I’m fine,” snapped the dwarf. At the startled silence that followed, he lifted his head, looked at the four guards staring at him, and belatedly realized the commander wasn’t talking to him. He grumbled something and went back to reading.
“I’ll be all right,” Linsha answered. “I was waiting for him to finish.”
“It’s getting late,” the commander observed. “If you wait for him to finish, you could be here for several days.”
A glance out the window showed Linsha he was right. The shadows had grown quite long since she sat down, and the sun was settling low in the western sky. She rubbed her forehead. She had obviously slept longer than she thought.
Commander Durne studied her pale face and remembered the state of his body after the dwarf healed his head injury. The mystic healing sped up the process of recovery nicely, but the body still had to recover from the shock of injury and blood loss. He made up his mind. “We were going back to the palace. Pack your books, Master Dwarf, and we will ride with you to the temple.”
Mica recognized an order when he heard it. Reluctantly he closed the book he was reading and piled the four together. He and the guards wrapped the volumes in blankets and bundled them together with rope. They loaded the books on the back of Mica’s horse. When they were finished, Linsha closed the shutters in the shop window, bade a silent farewell to the dead priest, and pulled the door shut behind her.
In a group, the guards and the healer rode back to Shipmaker’s Road and turned east toward the city gates and inner Sanction. They saw very few people. The sick lay in their beds and ranted and died in the frightful heat; the well stayed indoors, either hiding or caring for their loved ones. The harbor and the city lay in a stupor of late afternoon heat and malaise that showed no sign of relenting.
At this rate, Linsha thought, the city would be easy pickings for the first enemy who dared risk Lord Bight’s wrath. She sighed.
Commander Durne heard her and turned his head to see her. He slowed his stallion until Windcatcher walked by his side. “What are you thinking?” he asked softly.
Linsha liked his voice. She liked his nearness and the way he spoke to her as if he genuinely wanted to know what was on her mind. She couldn’t imagine that a man like him would be interested in a sell-sword with Lynn’s dubious history, and yet his eyes devoured her and the vein in his neck seemed to throb with the same nervous pounding hers had.
“I was thinking that Sanction is dying,” she finally answered. “If this plague doesn’t ease off soon, it will decimate the entire population and leave the city vulnerable to attack. I’m not sure even Lord Bight has the strength to defend Sanction alone … if he survives.”
“I hope the plague doesn’t last that long!” he said fervently. “But you’re right to worry. The City Guards have been hit hard, particularly those who patrolled the harbor district, and the plague is spreading through the eastern guard camp.” He paused and glanced at her thoughtfully. “Did Mica find anything in the records he was so anxious to read?”
“I don’t think so. They’re from a temple in Sanction. I can’t imagine that they will include anything from as far away as Kalaman.”
Commander Durne surprised her by visibly starting. The movement was spontaneous and immediately controlled, so she wasn’t certain what she had seen in his face. Did he already know about the earlier outbreak? No, how could he? Surely he would have told Mica or Lord Bight. She was just letting her suspicious nature read more into this than was there.
“What does Kalaman have to do with this?” he asked, his voice faintly curious.
“We learned there was an earlier plague there that was similar to this one,” she answered.
“Where did you hear that?”
Linsha made it a policy never to reveal her sources unless directly ordered. “From an old resident who was ill.”
“Was this resident lucid at the time?”
Linsha pretended to study the stone flagging beneath Windcatcher’s hooves. She hear
d a note in his voice she could not clearly identify. Was it excitement or alarm? “I don’t know. Seemed lucid enough, but you know how fevers can affect people. It seemed a good lead at the time.”
“What did Mica make of this lead?” Durne persisted.
“Very little. He doesn’t hold out much hope of finding something useful.” She shook her head, trying to be tolerant. “But then he doesn’t hold out much hope for anything. Especially me.”
Durne chuckled. “Nor any of us. Mica is a superb healer, but he cares more for the process than the patients.” He shot a look over his shoulder to the dwarf, who rode silently at the end of the group. Mica’s eyes were elsewhere, his thoughts probably lost somewhere in the text he had read. Durne leaned slightly closer to Linsha and lowered his voice. “Watch your back around him, Lynn. Lord Bight is not entirely certain of his loyalties.”
Linsha started to say some trite remark, then closed her mouth. She didn’t really know what to say. Or what to think. There were so many possible players in this game of intrigue in Sanction, it was almost impossible to be certain of who everyone really was. There was an alleged Knight of Takhisis in the government somewhere, but for all she knew, the Legion could have infiltrated the governor’s inner circle, or the Knights of Solamnia could have slipped someone in and not told her. There could even be a spy with his own agenda who wormed his way into the court, or a disgruntled advisor who was spreading rumors. The possibilities were endless and too much for her tired brain this evening. She nodded her thanks to Commander Durne and lapsed into a pensive silence that lasted long after they left the harbor district behind.
The party of red-clad guards rode through the city gates just as the merchant guild’s clock rang five. The city guards at the gate saluted their commander and waved the group through. They were past the Souk Bazaar and had made the turn on the road to the Governor’s Palace and the temple of the mystics when a clatter of hoofbeats caught their attention. Lord Bight, mounted on his sorrel, came trotting down the road at the head of a troop of heavily armed Governor’s Guards. He saw Commander Durne and rose in his stirrups.
“I’ve had a report that the Dark Knights are going to raid into the northern Vale tonight,” he shouted. “Bring your men and come with me.”
Linsha automatically reined Windcatcher around to follow the commander, but he stopped his horse in front of her. “Not this time, squire,” Durne said. “One injury a day is our limit. Escort Mica back to the temple, then return to the barracks and get some rest. There will be other times.”
Linsha turned to Lord Bight to appeal the decision, but he took one look at her bloodied shirt and snapped, “Obey your orders.” Then he wheeled his horse away, and the company cantered after him along the road to the east.
Linsha watched them go. Although she loved a good fight against the Knights of Takhisis, she felt like a limp rag tonight. Commander Durne was probably right to send her back. She wouldn’t be much use to them. Reluctantly she turned and followed the dwarf.
The healer paid no attention to the absence of the other guards or to Linsha’s continued presence. He rode on toward the temple, humming to himself and staring at something only he could see between his horse’s ears.
At the fork of the road leading to the temple, he turned in his saddle and said, “You don’t have to trail me up to the temple. I think I can find my way from here.”
Linsha ignored his sarcasm. “I was told to escort you to the temple. I will escort you.”
His lips pulled down in an irritated frown, but he said nothing more. They rode in silence through the trees and up the hill to the green lawns of the temple grounds. Mica didn’t bother to say good-bye or invite her in. He simply reined his horse in the direction of the temple stables and left her behind.
Linsha glared after him. If there was anyone in Lord Bight’s court who should be the Dark Knight spy simply by measure of his unpleasant attitude, it should be that dwarf! She hoped Lord Bight or Commander Durne would find something else for her to do tomorrow besides help the ungrateful lout.
Rather than backtrack the way she came, she decided to take the trail through the woods that Lord Bight had showed her the night they entered the passages under the city. Wearily she turned Windcatcher down the hill and toward the trail to the palace. The mare’s hooves stepped soundlessly on the thick grass of the lawn. The light of early evening was gold and hazy around them. She found the trail easily enough and reined the horse into the long shadows under the trees. The woods lay still around her, for there was no wind to stir the leaves.
An owl hooted a long, angry cry in the trees ahead.
Linsha started upright in her saddle. Owls did not usually call in daylight. If there was one out in these woods, then it could only be … The lady Knight dug her heels into the mare’s sides. Windcatcher sprang forward.
“Varia!” Linsha called. The owl cried again, a long, shivering note of anger and sadness.
Windcatcher cantered down the trail between the trees and through the undergrowth.
A brown shape swooped out of a large sycamore and soared by Linsha’s head, wailing softly. “Linsha, I hoped you would come this way. Follow me!” the owl cried. She banked to the right, away from the path and toward a copse of smaller, denser pine. Linsha had to slow the horse to a walk in the thick growth of vines, shrubs, and small trees. When she reached the copse, she had to dismount and tie the mare to a tree limb, then continue on foot. She pushed into the thick stand, and the dark evergreens closed in around her.
“There, under that young pine. Do you see him?” Varia directed her.
Linsha shoved a branch out of her face and came into a slight clearing in the middle of the pine trees. Evening sunlight barely penetrated the heavy growth and the deep shadows that cloaked the forest floor, but there was just enough light to gleam on a patch of bright red, a red that had no place among the stand of trees. Linsha hurried forward. She came to two black boots lying among the crushed grass. Her gaze followed the boots up to the red breeches trimmed in black and the red tunic of a Governor’s Guard. A man lay on his belly in the shade of the pines, a man who looked unnaturally still.
Linsha took in his dark blond hair and strong build, but she didn’t recognize him until she rolled him over and saw his face. “Captain Dewald,” she gasped. Commander Durne’s lieutenant stared up at the sky with clouded, sightless eyes.
“What happened to him?” she asked the owl as she knelt beside the body.
“I don’t know,” Varia hooted. “I came to the woods, hoping to meet you. While I waited, I did a little hunting and there I found him. He has been here a while, for ants have already discovered him.”
Linsha pulled her hands away and used only her eyes to examine the body. She tried to disregard the lines of ants that crawled around his open eyes, nose, and mouth. “Oh, wait. There.” She pointed to a dark stain and two small rips on the chest of his tunic. “He’s been stabbed twice, by a stiletto, I’d wager, but there’s no blood on the ground. He was probably killed somewhere else and dumped here. No one but an owl could have found him in this undergrowth.”
Varia sat on a branch close by and craned her neck to see the man clearly. “Linsha, I know this man,” she said.
“Really. How?”
“I have seen him with Lady Annian.”
Linsha’s anger boiled up. “What? He’s a Knight?”
“No, no,” the owl hastened to reassure her. “I think he’s only a paid informant. I have seen him with Lady Annian in the streets. Enjoying the taverns … and things. I think he was her contact in the court.”
“She knew I was joining the guards. Why didn’t she tell me?” Linsha said furiously.
“Maybe she didn’t want to jeopardize his safety by putting him in contact with you. He wasn’t a trained Knight, remember.”
“I’d say his safety has been jeopardized with or without me.” She brushed the ants off Captain Dewald’s face and closed his eyes. Not that the closed lid
s would stop the ants and flies for long, but it seemed a respectful thing to do. “I wonder who caught up with him, and why.”
Varia fluffed out her feathers and hooted softly. “I will tell Lady Karine tonight. She can tell Annian. The news will grieve her.” She sidestepped along the branch until the limb drooped under weight, bringing her close to Linsha. “Tell me what happened to you.”
“Looters,” Linsha sighed. “One caught me with a knife.” She rubbed a finger over Varia’s brown and white barred wing.
The owl hopped gently onto Linsha’s wrist. “I am glad you were not seriously hurt. A healer closed the wound?”
“Mica. He and I were collecting records to take to the temple.”
“Ah, the grumpy dwarf.”
Linsha’s face became thoughtful. “Commander Durne said something to me that I thought was strange. He told me to watch my back around Mica, that Lord Bight doesn’t trust him.”
“Doesn’t trust his own healer?” Varia repeated dubiously.
“Yes.” She pursed her lips. “Keep a watch on Mica when you can. If you see him leave the temple at odd hours or do something out of character, let me know.”
“As you wish. What are you going to do about him?”
“Mica?”
“No. The captain.”
Linsha sat back on her heels and said, “I can’t lift him onto Windcatcher alone. He’s too big. I’ll have to report this. Commander Durne may want to see this place before they move the body.”
She carefully rolled his body back the way she had found him. Feeling tired to the bone, she climbed to her feet and, still carrying Varia, returned to her horse.
The Clandestine Circle Page 21