by Rob Scott
‘We have to get away,’ Alen said, his hands resting on Milla’s shoulders.
‘We will,’ Hoyt said, ‘but what’s wrong with you? We came here for the portal.’
‘I know,’ he said, ‘and a few other things, but-’
‘But what? What has changed so dramatically that we’re going to leave here without the far portal?’
Alen tried to sidestep the question. ‘A soldier named Tandrek is taking over the delivery of food – if you can call it that – to the cells. I have been doing that job for the past five days. He believes he is doing me a favour, and keeping both of us in the officers’ good graces, but he will discover that you aren’t in your cells, and haven’t been in your cells for some days, and the alarm will sound. So please understand, we have to leave right now.’
We can’t go without the portal, Alen!’ Hoyt shouted. ‘Think of Hannah.’
‘I am thinking of Hannah.’ The old man tried not to raise his voice.
‘No, you’re not, you are thinking of yourself and your personal vendettas – what happened, Alen? Did you kill Bellan? Is that it? Did you kill these slave-magicians who have been hunting you for so long? Did you get all your slaughtering done and then realise that we didn’t have the far portal?’
‘Enough!’ Alen shouted. Milla jumped and scurried away from him. Ignoring the others, he kneeled and whispered to her, ‘I’m sorry, Pepperweed. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t shout like that. I’m sorry.’
Her lip quivering, Milla clutched the straw-stuffed dog in a death grip.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said again. She gave him a watery smile.
Alen,’ Hoyt interrupted impatiently, ‘we have to get it. Let’s go; Hannah can stay with Milla.’
Alen got up and shrugged helplessly. ‘It’s not here, Hoyt, it’s in a town called Traver’s Notch, with my old colleague Fantus, Gilmour Stow. He and Steven Taylor managed to get it away from Nerak; I don’t know how.’
They stared at him in shock, and he said quickly, ‘I never had any intention of bringing you into the palace – who knew the bastard was watching us all the way? I am truly sorry, Hoyt; I wasn’t going to put you at risk, but I needed to come here.’ The words, so long pent up, bubbled out of him as he begged for their understanding.
‘I needed to kill Malagon’s daughter, because he took Reia from me, and I needed to kill those who have made me a prisoner in my own home for the past nine hundred Twinmoons, but none of that matters now, because the portal is in Falkan, and Fantus – Gilmour – has it. We will send Steven, Mark and Hannah safely back home.’
Hannah’s heart lifted; she almost sobbed in relief. He hadn’t forgotten her. Churn put a comforting arm on her shoulder.
‘Right now, the most important thing is to get this little girl out of this place safely,’ Alen continued. ‘She’s important, that I know, and that’s the reason I’ve lived this long, Hoyt, I’m sure of it: this is the path to the Northern Forest. That’s what Lessek wanted me to know; that’s why he let them watch me all those Twinmoons. He needed me enraged enough to come up here and rescue this little girl.’
Hoyt bit his lower lip, considering the old magician in the young sergeant’s body. Drawing a deep breath, he said, ‘You know, Alen, I’d wager that you could probably meet some really attractive women in that body.’
‘Oh, Jesus Christ,’ Hannah breathed.
The former Larion leader smiled in relief. ‘It’s been so long, Hoyt, I wouldn’t know how,’ he said with a laugh. ‘Now, are we ready to go?’
‘Not at all.’
‘Good. It will be more fun figuring it out along the way.’ Hoyt checked his weapons. ‘Churn, you stay with Hannah, no matter what.’
‘Right.’
Alen said, ‘Hoyt, you and I will take the lead; you carry Milla. If we run into anyone, she is Colonel Strellek’s daughter, and we are ordered to deliver her to him out near the river where he is inspecting a shipment from Treven. Got it?’
‘Colonel Strellek?’ asked Hoyt.
‘There is no Strellek, so it will confuse the issue long enough for us to get away, or to silence whoever is questioning us. We stop for nothing, but we don’t run. Walk purposefully, as if you are going somewhere. Don’t linger, drag your feet or stop for any reason. People don’t interrupt those who appear to be on their way to do something important. It’s just our nature.’
Hoyt handed Hannah a leather strip. ‘Tie your hair up. It’s like a rutting flag hanging down like that.’
‘Got it,’ she said, tying her hair into a ponytail, then tucking the end underneath and securing the whole lot. It didn’t feel terribly secure, but it was the best she could do.
‘Here’s the route,’ Alen continued. ‘Out the door to the right and down the stairs, two levels. At the bottom go left past the doors to the main dining hall. The kitchen is across the hall. Take the first stairs we reach on our right; it’s about a third of the way down the hall. Down two short flights to the grand foyer, cross the foyer and go out the main gate. From the moment we pass the first level hallway, one flight down, we will be among Malakasians. There is never a time when that hall is empty, so we might as well go when it is full to bursting – there is a guard change after the evening meal, so that’s right about now.
‘Don’t make eye contact with anyone, but don’t be too obvious in looking away, either.’
Hannah felt her stomach flopping over and she was already damp with nervous sweat. ‘Where do we go if they come after us?’
Alen shook his head. ‘If we’re caught, there will be no place to go, certainly not down to the foyer. If that does happen, I’ll try to create enough disturbance for the rest of you to melt into the crowd. Let’s hope we’re lucky enough that there are no guards at the main gate.’
‘Who would be insane enough to attack this palace?’ Hoyt asked rhetorically.
‘Right. Are we ready?’
‘Let’s go,’ Churn signed for all of them.
Alen leaned over and reached out for Milla. ‘Are you ready to go find your Mama? You’ll have to let Hoyt carry you; is that all right?’
The little girl squealed. ‘Will we be there soon?’
‘It will take a few days; we have to cross the Ravenian Sea, remember?’
‘How do we do that?’
‘In a boat.’
‘A big boat?’
‘Yes, a big boat,’ Alen said, and nodded to the others. ‘It will have a kitchen and a place to sleep and maybe even a puppy that lives on the boat all the time.’
‘I bet his name is Resta.’
‘I bet it is, too, Pepperweed, but for now, we have to be quiet. Can you do that for me?’
‘A being quiet game?’
‘Yes, a being quiet game.’
‘All right, but later I want to play grambles.’
They had just started down the first stairs when their plan began to unravel. Churn, in front, gave a hurried salute to a sergeant who was rushing up the stairs so quickly that he barely acknowledged the gesture, but as he passed Alen, he stumbled. ‘Sergeant Willis!’ Alen exclaimed, ‘Where are you going?’
The other man frowned. ‘Where the rutters have you been? We’ve got squad members looking all over for you – Tandrek’s down there by himself. You’ve had a break, three prisoners – can you rutting believe it?’ He stopped and looked over the curious group. ‘Who is this child?’
‘Colonel Strellek’s daughter; that’s where I’ve been. He got called out to the docks, something he was expecting from Treven. He asked me to bring her after she’d eaten.’
‘Strellek? Who’s that?’ Sergeant Willis sounded bemused.
Hoyt interrupted, ‘Sorry, Sergeant, we are assigned to Colonel Strellek, but he didn’t want us bringing the girl out through the gates and then the encampment without at least a sergeant with us. He wanted to find the lieutenant, but none of us knew where he was at the time.’ Hoyt could lie like a professional; given half a chance he would have stood on the stairs t
he rest of the aven, spinning a wrinkle-free tale that would have had all of them believing they had been ordered to bring Milla out to her father on the wharf.
‘The lieutenant?’ Willis was confused. ‘He’s down in the prison wing cursing your name all the way to the Northern Forest. If I were you, I’d let these three take the girl out while you get yourself-’ His gaze fell to Hoyt’s hands, which were still a grim testament to his efforts to break out of his cell. ‘Soldier,’ he interrupted himself. ‘How did you get-?’
Hoyt nonchalantly clasped his hands behind his back. ‘Sorry, Sergeant?’
‘They’re here!’ Sergeant Willis screamed, ‘I have them up-’
Churn’s punch took Sergeant Willis beneath the chin, lifting him clear off the stairs. He rolled into a heap, eight or nine steps below, and Hannah wondered if he was dead – until a commotion erupted from the main floor two levels down. ‘They’re coming,’ she said, the words feeling strange in her dry mouth. ‘What do we do?’
‘Up this way,’ Alen ordered, ‘quickly.’
Hannah felt the world crash into the sun. ‘Not up, no, we can’t go up. There’s no way out up there.’
‘You have to trust me.’ Alen was trying to remain as calm as possible.
‘Where are we going?’ Hoyt asked.
‘There’s an atrium at the end of the hall. Across the way is a courtyard.’
‘Alen, we’re three levels up,’ Hoyt said.
‘No, no, no,’ Churn was signing furiously, ‘I won’t go out there, I won’t.’
‘We’ve no choice,’ Alen said. ‘The courtyard is off a banquet hall or a meeting hall on the second level of the other wing. It’s a short fall. I’m sure we can jump it. It’s that or them.’ Alen pointed down the stairs.
Hoyt tweaked Milla’s nose. ‘Can you fly?’
Milla nodded, grinning. ‘A little bit. Can you?’
‘I’d better be able to.’
Alen had already started up the stairs and down the upper hall. Hoyt followed. Churn waited with Hannah.
‘I can’t do it,’ he signed.
‘Jump down to a courtyard? I can’t imagine why not.’
‘Maybe they’ll think of something before we get there.’
Whatever – we can’t stay here.’ She reached for his hand and the two of them hurried after the others.
MEYERS’ VALE
‘What do you suppose happened to them?’
‘He might have thrown them away.’
‘Garec?’ Steven was incredulous. ‘You’ve seen the pride he takes in them – he made them himself; if he truly planned never to fire another shot, he would have given them to you.’
‘He hasn’t said anything.’ Mark checked to be sure Garec was still out of earshot. They were riding south along the river through Meyers’ Vale into the Blackstone foothills. ‘Ever since he got back, he’s been staring into space. Something happened to him, Steven.’
‘Of course it did,’ Steven retorted. ‘He failed to raise a finger to help you and Brand; he knows you’re disappointed with him. We’re within inches of wrapping this whole wretched business up, and he feels like he’s fumbled the ball inside the five – of course he’s embarrassed. But you and Brand aren’t making it any easier for him. Let’s face it: this has been the worst nightmare any of us could ever imagine, and you’re holding an outbreak of honest-to-goodness compassionate conscientious objectorness – or whatever you call it – against Garec. He chose to die rather than to kill; I don’t know if I could have been that brave given the circumstances.’
Mark grimaced. ‘Okay, you’re right. I’ve been a bastard – but I don’t think that’s it. Something happened between there and here.’
‘Ask him,’ Steven said. For a few seconds they were back in Idaho Springs, in a place where things made sense. ‘He’s your friend,’ Steven went on, ‘whether you’re disappointed in him or not. If you think something happened on the way down here that caused him to fire-’
‘Twenty. He had about twenty in his quiver.’
‘Okay, so about twenty arrows… I bet he’ll tell you. Give up the grudge; ask him what’s wrong.’ Steven guided his horse around a tree partially blocking the trail. Mark ducked and rode under it, wondering if there was some Eldarni superstition – seven hundred Twinmoons of bad luck, boils, locusts and flatulence, maybe – that was all he needed to cap a terrifically abysmal few days. He smiled at Steven, then slowed to allow Garec to catch up with him.
‘Hey,’ he said as Garec came alongside.
‘Is that a greeting in Colorado, Mark?’
‘Yep.’
‘A good greeting or a bad greeting?’ Garec looked grim; he slouched in the saddle as if he were carrying the world on his shoulders.
‘One of the best,’ Mark said.
‘Well, hey then.’
In the ensuing uncomfortable silence, Mark thought about dropping it, but finally he said, ‘I’m sorry about the other day. It was wrong of me to expect you to kill if you choose not to.’
‘You had the best interests of the Resistance at heart, Mark. I was the one at fault.’ Garec’s voice was flatly matter-of-fact.
‘No, I didn’t,’ Mark said, ‘I’ve never given a pinch of raccoon shit about the Resistance.’ Garec looked at him, and Mark shrugged. ‘What can I say? I wanted to learn to shoot because I was in love with Brynne and she was taken from me – from all of us – because I wasn’t a killer, I wasn’t in control of those nightmarish circumstances. Well, now I am a killer, and I’m happy to go on killing.’
‘Then I’m sorry for you,’ Garec said. ‘Some day it will catch up with you.’
‘As it did you?’
Garec nodded.
‘It might,’ Mark said, ‘and you’ve been doing it for a lot longer than me, so you’ve probably got some insights into these things that I don’t. I may have found enough rage inside me to kill, but I’m not stupid, so what do I learn from you? I learn that many of the things I had to abandon in myself are still there somewhere, sublimated under five hundred layers of anger, hatred, disgust, whatever. But putting pressure on you to kill those soldiers the other day, that’s about the worst thing I have ever done. It’s far worse than killing people who are attacking me. So I’m sorry, Garec. I won’t let it happen again.’
He looked grim as he continued, ‘I have these hazy memories of living in a place and a time where killing another person would never be a possibility, not in a month – a Twinmoon – of Sundays, and yet here I am, a bloodthirsty monster out hunting for Malakasian soldiers to mount on the wall of my living room.’
‘We all have untapped potential,’ Garec said. Mark felt a chill run up his spine.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Thank you.’
‘So what happened?’
‘It’s not important.’
‘Not important? By my count, you’re down about twenty arrows- and no matter how badly you want to snap that bow in two, you still carry it with you. You didn’t throw those arrows away, Garec; Steven’s right. So what happened?’
Garec reached over and took Mark’s forearm. ‘When the time comes, I’ll be ready. You needn’t worry.’ His eyes blazed, and for the first time that day he sat tall in the saddle, looking deadly dangerous. Mark recoiled slightly; he might think himself a killer, but he would fold were he ever to face Garec one-on-one.
‘You took out a soldier?’
‘Fifteen soldiers, maybe seventeen. They were coming up behind you; there was nothing else I could do.’
‘Good Christ,’ Mark said, ‘why? You could have let them comewe’re on horseback, they wouldn’t have caught up with us.’
‘They were cavalry.’
The enormity of Garec’s accomplishment was not lost on Mark, especially now he had been attacked by a cavalry charge himself. Just the thought of facing them alone made him shudder… Sallax had been right: this young man truly was the Bringer of Death. Mark reached out to take Garec’s hand. ‘I’m truly sorry,�
�� he said. ‘This is a hideous time.’
‘Yes, it is, but I will be ready,’ Garec repeated.
Mark took out half his arrows, which Garec accepted without saying a word.
‘My father always used to say that the lowest of low points in his life were always the start of the next good thing,’ Mark said.
‘Did your father enjoy plenty of good things in his life?’
‘I think he did, yes.’
‘Then he must have had plenty of low points as well,’ Garec said.
‘I think he did that too,’ Mark agreed.
‘If we see the other side of this business, I’ll pay for my actions. I’m not sure how, but that day is coming. Perhaps it will be the start of the next good thing.’ Garec was staring straight ahead; Mark wondered if he were talking to himself.
He slapped the bowman on the back. ‘If we see the other side of this business, and you find a way to atone, I’ll go with you and atone as well.’
Finally Garec smiled. ‘That will be fine with me. And I think Brynne would like that too.’
Steven was watching Mark and Garec out of the corner of one eye; he felt the tension ease somewhat when Mark slapped Garec on the back and Garec smiled, however briefly; they would be all right now, both of them.
As he rode in silence beside Gilmour, he took in the wintry beauty of Meyers’ Vale, and thanked God they weren’t attempting to cross the Blackstones during this season. He wondered if any of them would have survived had they begun their journey from Estrad even a Twinmoon later. The terrain had changed now they were off the Central Plain and he was careful to guide his horse around the plentiful rocks and stumps as they followed the river upstream. Gently rolling hills were interrupted periodically by upland meadows; now and then the river widened into bogland and slowed to a more majestic pace.
‘How far was it from the canyon to the place where you think Nerak buried the spell table?’ Gilmour finally broke the silence.
‘It was at least ten days on the Capina Fair, but some of those days were less productive than others. If we keep along this path, I know I’ll recognise that hilltop.’