The Narrowing Path: The Complete Trilogy (The Narrowing Path Series Book 4)

by David J Normoyle

  “Not now, Oamir. Later.” Bowe turned the handle and opened the door.

  “But you’ll want to know about this,” Oamir said. “I know you will.”

  “Later.” Bowe slid into Zofila’s room and shut the door behind him. Bowe didn’t want to risk arriving late and missing out on his chance of a meeting with the Guild. Oamir had probably discovered some weird fact about the history of the Refuge that only he would find interesting.

  Zofila wasn’t inside. Bowe opened up a chest by the bed and lifted out the dresses inside. At the bottom, under a blanket, were the escay clothes he’d worn before. He swiftly shed his ascor clothing, placed them on the bottom of the trunk, then dressed as an escay. He returned the blanket and Zofila’s dresses and clicked the chest closed.

  Just above the headboard of the bed was a wooden panel patterned with engraved leaves. His fingers felt along the inlay until he found a slight indentation. He pressed; there was a whirring sound, and the panel opened.

  A gust of air, smelling of rotting wood and damp earth, swept into Zofila’s room. Bowe slid behind the headboard of the bed and into the tunnel. He looked around to get his bearings, then closed the panel behind him. The darkness wasn’t absolute, and he waited a few moments for his eyes to adjust, then swept his hand out to the left to where he knew the ladder begun. His hand made contact with wood. He shuffled across and began to descend the ladder. His missing hand plus the darkness made things awkward, but by hooking his right elbow around the rungs, he managed it okay.

  It felt great to be doing something finally. Though he was still uncertain what he could possibly achieve. Stenesso wanted Bowe to help destroy the Guild, and he had Sindar. And the Guild wanted to destroy the ascor. There wasn’t exactly an obvious middle ground. And Bowe had promised Iyra that this meeting would end up helping the escay.

  How could he appease both the escay and Stenesso into freeing Sindar? From every angle that was an impossible task.

  Bowe’s foot touched dirt. He bent down to rub some mud into his face, then wiped most of it off. He wanted to be scruffy, not filthy. He spun around, feeling the walls with his hands until he found the tunnel. It had taken him much longer the first time around to navigate the route when he hadn’t known what to expect.

  Bowe bent down and began to crawl. It was just about wide enough to allow him to move unobstructed, though in places his cloak brushed against the sides. He ignored muffled voices overhead and the feeling that the tunnel would collapse on top of him at any moment.

  When the air started to feel fresher, Bowe knew he was near the end. The exit on the other side was only blocked by a drape hung from the wall. Bowe moved the cloth aside and walked into the little abandoned house that Sorrin and Zofila had adopted. Bowe didn’t delay, hurrying outside. He brushed dirt and cobwebs off his clothes as he made his way to the Bellanger front gates. He adjusted the sleeve of his cloak so it hid his missing hand, then pulled the hood low over his face.

  He stayed on the other side of the street from the guards, not looking in their direction. The urchin who Toose had mentioned was leaning against a wall, looking bored. Bowe leaned close as he passed. “I am the reply to your message. Take me to the meeting.”

  The boy looked startled for a moment, then recovered quickly. He followed Bowe, then took the lead once they reached the first junction. Bowe glanced behind, but none of the Bellanger marshals had noticed, or, if they had, they hadn’t reacted.

  The boy led Bowe down main streets at first, but before long he was being led down narrow winding streets. Toose would have a heart attack if he knew Bowe was without guards in this part of town dressed as an escay. Though, of course, Bowe wasn’t just on his way through dangerous parts of town, he was going to meet dangerous people. He hoped his history with Xarcon would keep him safe.

  The boy stopped in front of a darkened doorway, tapped twice on the door, then ran off. Bowe watched the boy disappear around the corner, then turned back to wait at the door. When it didn’t immediately open, he started to feel nervous. For the first time, he truly wondered if he’d leave the meeting alive. The Guild hadn’t much love for the ascor. Coensaw had been captured and was no longer in charge. What if Xarcon wasn’t on the other side of the door? What if it was someone who Bowe had never met before?

  The door swung part way open on creaking hinges. Dark shadows leaked out of the gap between the door and doorway. Bowe sucked in a breath, then pushed the door open further and entered. The door closed behind him and Bowe swiveled. A man stood leaning against the wall behind him, unmoving, his face hidden in shadow.

  Bowe took a long look around the room. There were no windows and a candle flickered in the far corner. The candle was nearly burned out, tendrils of melted wax running down the stub of it. Three other men were leaning against the walls, watching Bowe. None were clearly visible, though their eyes gleamed in the candlelight as they watched him.

  Other than the door he had entered, there was only one other exit. When none of the men made a move or said anything, Bowe walked through the internal doorway. It led to another small room, this one with no further exits but it did have two candles on the walls and a further one on a table. Black tattoos swirled across the face of the man behind the table. Bowe took the chair opposite him, and it was only when he sat down that Bowe—with relief—recognized the man. “Xarcon?”

  He nodded. “It’s been a while.”

  “It certainly has.”

  Xarcon had changed a lot, and it wasn’t just the tattoos. Nor just the four rings that dangled from his left ear. The Green Path was supposed to turn boys into men, but Xarcon had clearly truly become the man he was meant to be in the three years since Bowe had last seen him. His sleeveless shirt didn’t hide the muscles in his chest, and his biceps were that of an experienced Eye fighter. More than the external changes, though, there was a hardness to him that made Bowe feel wary.

  “You haven’t held up your end of the bargain,” Xarcon said.

  “What bargain was that?”

  Xarcon flashed a smile and his teeth seemed abnormally white set against the black tattoos. “We helped you with your Army of Pots and Pans, and you were to help the Guild.”

  “I have helped,” Bowe said. “I arranged an alliance between Rianel, who is one of yours, and the forest bandits led by Meelyn.”

  “You did that to help Bellanger interests. You know what the Guilds wants, don’t you? You do seem rather forgetful about our bargain, so let me remind you. We want the ruling ascor families to fall.” He held out four fingers, and turned them down one by one. “That would be the Raine family, Lessard family, Grenier family. And what’s the last again? Oh yes, the Bellanger family, which you have spent the last three years building up.”

  “I can’t help anyone if I have no power.”

  “Are you going to tell me why you are here?”

  “I decided I needed to reconnect with the Guild.”

  “A lie.” Xarcon stood up and strode to the darkened doorway through which Bowe had entered. After a mumbled conversation, he returned and sat down again.

  “It’s not a lie,” Bowe said.

  “Certainly not the whole truth,” Xarcon said. “But don’t worry, I didn’t expect the truth. Not from an ascor. I was just informed that you definitely weren’t followed.”

  “Of course I wasn’t. Don’t you know me better than that?” Bowe hadn’t thought to check if he’d been watched when he’d followed the boy.

  “You’ll find this place empty if you return.” Xarcon leaned forward, his elbows on the desk. “I know that one of your ascor is in the Fortress and that Stenesso is blackmailing you to bring down the Guild. Leading the Greniers here could have been your way to free your friend.”

  Bowe hadn’t expected Xarcon to know that much. But he kept his surprise from his face. “And if I was followed?” he wanted to know. “I would have been killed.”

  “That would have been the obvious thing to do, but I hadn’t decided for s
ure.”

  Coming had been more dangerous than Bowe had imagined. He had thought the worst was over when it had been Xarcon waiting for him, but the casual way Xarcon spoke of killing was worrying. Could he decide to kill Bowe even now? Had the Guild grown so bold?

  “It took me a while to decide to meet you,” Xarcon continued. “There were risks for both of us, but more than that, I didn’t see what good would come out of it.”

  Bowe didn’t have a good reply to that. Not yet, at least. “Sindar,” he said.

  “Sorry?”

  “Sindar. It’s the Bellanger ascor whom Stenesso has imprisoned in the Fortress. My friend and yours too.”

  “It’s a long time since I was his friend. I was a different person then.” Xarcon leaned back in his chair, running his fingers down his tattooed cheeks. “The life I had before is a distant shadow to me now. I remember it like a series of painting or tapestries. I can see what happened, but I can’t feel the emotion in the events. A man with two opposing masters will be torn in two. I learned that a long time ago and made my choice. You, I believe, are being pulled in two directions at once.”

  “I don’t have any masters.”

  “That’s never true for anyone, no matter how much they might wish it. For an ascor, their master might be simply maintaining their position. You mightn’t think that to be much of a master, but if from morning to night, every thought, every move is about making sure that no advantage is lost, no weakness is exposed, they are as much a slave as any escay.”

  Bowe didn’t know what to say to that. Xarcon continued to surprise him and Bowe was beginning to realize that he’d never really known the other man. The tattoos and biceps had been more congruous with what he’d expected of his old brother than his latest insights. Xarcon was nothing like the angry young man Bowe remembered from three years ago, and even less like the Green he thought he knew six years ago.

  “You’ve gone thoughtful on me,” Xarcon continued. “I understand you better than most, I believe. I think we are a pair, you and me.”

  “Us two? I’m not sure about that. We have taken rather different routes since the Green Path six years ago.”

  “You, a Guardian, usually dressed in finery and acclaimed at balls by the cream of Arcandis. Me, a tattooed outlaw, who you’d expect to find in grotty bars, if not behind them.” Xarcon smiled. “You don’t see the similarity.”

  “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

  “Consider this. Who else do you know who has walked the Green Path, become an ascor, and subsequently rejected the Path?”

  “Only you did that. Not me.”

  “It wasn’t just for old times’ sake that I agreed to meet you. It’s because I believe you reject what you have become. Why did you not let the other mentors kill one of the boys at the start of the Path as per tradition? Why haven’t you ever tried to use your firsthand knowledge of me and Coensaw to hunt us down?”

  “I don’t see us as enemies.”

  Xarcon chuckled. “The ascor and the Guild are two opposing forces, and there will come a time soon where there is no room in the middle. I went through the struggle and chose my side. You see the problems brought to our society by the ascor, but you want to walk the edge between the two sides—you haven’t yet figured out that is impossible.”

  “You are wrong. There has to be a middle ground.”

  “You didn’t really pay attention to me, my struggle, and I don’t blame you. All you saw was an angry young man who switched sides. You don’t know how difficult it was for me. At the time I was angry, not just at the society, but at myself for rejecting the easy life I could have had. I’ve come to terms with the decision now. Being an ascor would never have been possible for me, just as I believe it won’t be for you.”

  “I am an ascor.” Bowe wondered if Coensaw had told Xarcon about the possibility that Bowe had been born an escay. “I have come to terms with that. That doesn’t mean I’m happy with the way things are. I want to change things, to make a better Arcandis for ascor and escay alike. But I can do that better as a Guardian. We are both in positions of power. How can we work together and improve the lives of all?”

  “You still don’t get it. There is no middle ground. The escay have to rise up and crush the ascor once and for all. It’s either that or the status quo.”

  Bowe shook his head. “There has to be another way. Besides, that isn’t what would happen. The marshals have all the weapons and all the training. Despite their numbers, the escay will never be able to win. A rebellion of the type you talk about would just result in pointless bloodshed and a hardening of attitudes.”

  “Can the ascor attitude toward the escay get any worse?”

  “If a rebellion happened, you’d see how much worse it could get. Even if it was possible for escay to win, think about the result. There would be chaos. With no one in charge, who’d control the Refuge and decide who got a place inside it? Who would make sure that all the farmers with seeds and livestock were inside so they can make sure we are fed in the new sexennium? We can’t afford anarchy, not with another Infernam always on the horizon.”

  “Those are the kind of issues that Coensaw and I discussed many a time. It held us back, but things have gone beyond caution. There is no turning back. I wish I could be sure that a sensible plan would be in place for after, but like you said, it’ll be anarchy, chaos.”

  The way Xarcon talked about the rebellion as if it was inevitable was chilling. “There have to be other ways.”

  Xarcon leaned back in his chair. “You called this meeting. You have another solution in mind? Is there a way that the ascor will start seeing the escay as equals? Will you convince Stenesso to release Coensaw? It was a mistake, by the way, imprisoning the voice of reason within the Guild.”

  “Stenesso isn’t the most reasonable person, but there are others. People who think differently like I do.” Eolnar hated the Green Path; surely he could be made to see that the ascor needed to relax their grip on the throat of the escay. And if Bowe could find or persuade one, he could find others. There had to be a way forward that didn’t involve revolution and chaos.

  Bowe twisted around in his chair, hearing a disturbance in the outer room. In the darkness, he could make out some movement, then there was a thud as if someone had fallen. A man appeared in the doorway, “I’m sorry, Xarcon—”

  A fist grabbed the man from behind, dragging him backwards, then a giant of a man stepped inside.

  “He couldn’t stop me,” the giant said.

  Xarcon sprang to his feet. “Hess, what are you doing here?”

  Hess slowly walked around the table. He was one of the biggest men Bowe had ever seen. “I heard there was a meeting between the Guild and the elite of Arcandis society. And since I wasn’t invited, I decided I should invite myself.” Hess grabbed Xarcon’s chair and rotated it until the back faced Bowe, then he swung his leg over it and sat down. He folded his arms over the top of the backrest and leaned forward. Three other men followed Hess inside. They crowded into the small room and watched Bowe with dark stares. Two other men—Bowe guessed these were Xarcon’s men—stood in the doorway. The rest of the meeting would take on a more public nature.

  Hess wore no shirt, and was clearly an Eye fighter from the number of scars that crisscrossed his body, and from the muscle that padded him.

  “Well met,” Bowe said, wondering what was going on.

  Hess opened his mouth in a wide grin and Bowe started back in shock. His upper teeth had been filed to a point, and every second tooth missing.

  “Pretty, aren’t I?” Hess said, taking obvious pleasure in Bowe’s reaction.

  “There’s no advantage in killing him.” Xarcon stood to one side of the table, looking uncomfortable. “If any ascor will end up helping us, it’s him. Coensaw felt the same.”

  “I didn’t come to kill him. Or, rather, I haven’t definitely decided to do that.” He turned his hideous grin on Bowe. The gums between each upper tooth were scarred. Ha
d Hess preformed the macabre dentistry on himself, turning his mouth into a weapon? “I came here to find out what the two ascor wanted to say to each other at this secret meeting.”

  Xarcon clenched his fists. “I am ascor no longer. Have I still not proven myself enough? I have given everything to the Guild. I sacrificed everything.”

  “You mean your ascor upbringing?” Hess asked. “Washing that filthy slime from your person is hardly a sacrifice.” When Xarcon only scowled in reply, Hess smacked him on the arm. “Just messing with you, kid. Coensaw trusted you and that’s enough for me. Still, we all know you are old friends of this Guardian, so best to have a neutral party to observe.”

  The smack from Hess had been friendly, in a fashion, but it had still sent Xarcon stumbling. In the interaction between Hess and Xarcon, Bowe could see the story now in Xarcon’s tattoos. He clearly had to prove over and over again that he was escay and no longer ascor. Xarcon might have had a hard task convincing himself he couldn’t serve two masters, but it seemed that convincing other Guild members had been harder still.

  Hess studied Bowe. “So what do we have to talk about, Guardian? I saw you admiring all my scars. Do you want to know which ones I got at which fights? Do you want to know which ascor were entertained by my blood? Do you want to know which of my colleagues I had to kill for them?”

  Escay watched Eye fights more often than ascor, but it didn’t seem a good idea to make that point. “I’m sure all combatants on both sides fought with honor.”

  Hess spat on the floor. “As much honor in the Eye as in the abattoir. Maybe we should organize a special Eye fight for you so you can experience this honor.”

  Bowe smiled weakly. “I only have one hand. It wouldn’t be fair.”

  “Same amount of fairness in the abattoir.” Hess licked his lips. “I can sense your fear. It smells like old woman sweat.”

  Bowe rubbed his hands on his tunic. This man terrified him, but not just because of the immediate danger. He seemed to be a physical representation of what Xarcon and Bowe were discussing before he came in. Chaos.