"That's why it took me so long to come for you," Sober said. "I had to wait until they were safe before I stole you away."
Was it her imagination or did his dark eyes reproach her?
"Sober—" Tears filled her eyes and she gulped down the lump in her throat. "You asked her to buy my family? How can I ever repay you?"
He shook his head. "I'm not looking for payment."
She pictured Comfort on the farm with her parchments and char-sticks. It seemed too good to be true. "But won't the prince be able to find them? Don't the slavers keep track of their transactions?"
A shadow of doubt flitted into Sober's eyes. "We planned to have you and your family in Montphilo before the prince came looking."
She stared at him, trying to think through all the new information and wondering what her failure to get out of the city would do to her family.
Turning to Lord Carrull, she said, "Now that I'm stuck here, won't the prince go down to the Hot Springs, find my family missing, and track them to Mistress Merricc's farm? Won't he use them to teach me a lesson?"
He shook his head. "You've left me back in the valley. Why are we talking about the prince? I thought the king was after you."
"Both." She squirmed under his scrutiny. "The king sentenced me, but the prince is the one who really wants me dead."
"You could not have made a worse enemy. I suppose you know that." He poured more wine into her glass. "I think you need to tell me everything that has happened since last I saw you. We can't make plans unless we know what we're up against."
Sober and Lord Carrull listened as riveted as her little brothers had always been when she wove danger and dragons into their bedtime stories. The Lord kept her wine glass filled, the flames in the fireplace danced, and Repentance told Lord Carrull of her journey down to the healing house and back up the mountain. She told him about her dream of getting the King to buy Comfort and later her brothers. And how she even hoped he might find and buy her other brothers, the ones that had been taken as weanlings. She explained her plan to become a trusted friend to the king. She told him of the prince's threats to kill the king and of his desire to take more lowborn boys and to build an army to invade Westwold. She recounted her fears, her losses, her mistakes, and her lies. She ended up with her arrival at his door, on the threshold of freedom. She'd be caught and killed or she'd escape. Free from slavery, either way.
"The king would probably let me go," she said in closing, "but the prince needs me dead. Not only do I know he tried to kill the king, but he thinks I'm heir to the throne. He can't let me live."
The room fell silent.
Finally Lord Carrull said, "Well, we can thank Providence you didn't bring the Prince's son to my house with you. Good great dragon guano, child, you're a menace. I can't believe only one person has died in your company so far. Even more, I can't believe you're still alive. Providence must have plans for you." He stood and approached. "May I see the birthmark?'
She turned her head and pushed the edge of the turban back.
"I wouldn't have believed it if I'd not have seen it." He went back to his chair shaking his head. "I knew your father well. No wonder the king felt kindly toward you. Lord Baldin was a fine young man, and he and the king were inseparable before he was killed."
She felt a warm glow. Her father—the one who'd raised her—was a fine man, too. Now she had two fine fathers. One a hated slave and one a hated overlord. Both fine men in their own worlds. But she was half overlord! And that made her feel dirty and thrilled all at once. It was confusing.
Lord Carrull looked at Sober. "And what's your story? You ran away from Mistress Merricc to save Repentance? Is that what she'll tell the troopers when they look at her farm and dig into her affairs?"
"I planned to be back before anyone came looking. I promised to go back and run the farm for her as soon as I got Repentance to Montphilo."
Lord Carrull smiled. "An incredible woman, that."
"What now?" Repentance looked at Sober. "The prince is liable to wipe out all of Hot Springs and the farm as well."
"Not if we can get him locked up, first," Lord Carrull said. "I'll see the king the first thing in the morning."
"Will he believe you?" Sober asked. "How well do you know him?"
"He will believe enough to arrest the prince and hold him over for trial, I hope. I'm an overlord. If I bring a charge, it will carry more weight than if a slave brings it. And there's always Tigen. The prince's own son knows his father had a slave hidden in the barn." He nodded. "I think we can convince—"
Behind them the door burst open with force, causing all three to turn and look.
"I'm sorry to interrupt, Lord," Compassion said, breathlessly, "but Starved says a skein of troopers are going door to door. Someone, it seems, reported seeing two runaway slaves fleeing in this neighborhood."
Love, when it came, crashed into me with the churning force of a waterfall. It turned me upside down, shook me all around, and left me standing, dripping and shaking, on the riverbank, not knowing which way was home.
~Repentance Atwater, Mountain Journal
Chapter 31
The knocker sounded on the front door. "Open up. Business of the king," a trooper shouted.
A male slave joined Compassion in the doorway of the great room, fear in his eyes.
"Take your dishes and follow Starved," Lord Carrull said. Turning to Compassion he added, "Stall as long as you can, then show them in to me here."
Repentance and Sober followed Starved up six stories. He was a young man, not much older than Sober, and he moved quickly.
At the top, the stairs opened up on a great room. As they raced across the room, Repentance registered bookshelves interspersed with maps, and portraits carved into the walls.
Cushioned chairs and settees were clustered around tables made of shiny, dark wood. They held suncloth lanterns.
"Quickly," Starved said, never slowing. He reached a painting on the far wall, a man with a bow facing a dragon, the beast stood, hunched over the man, fire issuing from its mouth. Starved took a knife from his belt and tapped the dragon's eye with the handle. The painted body slid back and to the side, leaving a dragon-shaped hole in the wall. Repentance gasped. Sober steadied her with a hand on her elbow. Starved stepped aside and directed Repentance and Sober to duck through the hole in the wall.
"Stay here until I come for you," he said. "Stay quiet." He reached up and tapped another spot on the wall and the dragon slid over and forward and snapped back into place, leaving not a sliver of light at the seams.
Repentance and Sober stood for a minute staring at the wall. On this side it had the same picture—only this one was facing the opposite direction, like an image in a reflecting rock. Repentance strained to hear any sound coming from the other side. Nothing. She shivered and turned away.
They were in a narrow, windowless room. By the dim light thrown from two small suncloths she saw a settee with two ice-block tables on either end. The tables were covered with lavacloth and strewn on top of them were books. On the opposite side of the room was a door. She crossed over and pushed it open. A relief room with one waste stool and one sink. They were in a hiding place. Not meant to be lived in for long periods, obviously, and not overly comfortable.
She flopped down at one end of the settee, prepared to wait. She tapped her foot, letting off nervous energy. She felt trapped. Surely Lord Carrull would keep them safe. Probably hundreds of slaves had hidden in this very room. And they'd all been let out. Set free.
Sober picked up a book and sat down on the other end of the settee.
Repentance studied his profile. His book was tilted toward the suncloth, his face angled away from her slightly. She was surprised by the depth of emotion that rose in her chest. Sober Marsh was, without a doubt, the handsomest man she'd ever met. She'd known he was handsome, she'd agreed with Generosity on that count. But she had never considered that there was no man handsomer.
Anywhere.
/> She shook her head, trying to clear it. Now was not the time to be thinking about Sober's dark eyes and broad shoulders. His smile—"So, you saw Comfort before you came to rescue me? How is she?" Her voice shattered the stillness, sounding harsh and demanding and overly loud.
He looked over at her, a pained expression on his face. "Be quiet," he whispered.
A hot flush burned her cheeks.
He must have noticed, because he scooted next to her and whispered in her ear, "They are all fine, trust me. I'll tell you later, when we can speak safely."
He didn't move away from her. Her ear burned where his breath had brushed over it, and her thigh felt warm where his bumped up against hers.
She felt as if the room was getting smaller, making it hard to breathe.
A memory tumbled through her mind unbidden. She did remember him. He dove from the waterfall into the pool below to save Ambivalence Bigrock. Repentance had been—what?—in her tenth year? So Sober had been in his fifteenth. Everyone in the village thought he was the bravest boy.
And he was cute even then, with dark curls and dark eyes and that slightly crooked nose.
So why hadn't anyone buttoned him the following year? Or the one after that?
She wasn't sure she believed he'd been waiting for her. She wanted to believe, but no boy ever waited five years for a button mate. It was too dangerous. The girl you chose might die, for one thing. She'd half believed he'd made that story up to cover up whatever flaws the button girls had seen in him when they turned him down four years in a row. But now, with him sitting right next to her, she found it hard to believe anyone would find him flawed.
He shifted a bit and his hip snuggled against hers. She scooted back, pressing herself up against the corner of the settee, but she couldn't get away from him. He was so big and so near. She bit her lip. What had she been thinking about?
Oh, yes, his flaws.
He hadn't any.
She remembered his earnest look on the slave dock when he pronounced the ancient blessing on her. He, who should have hated her, had blessed her.
She cast back into her memory looking for all that she knew about him. Third son. Only child. Devoted to his mother. She remembered him vaguely from school. She never knew him well. He was one of the big boys. And then he was gone. He lived on the other side of the swamp. She saw him at village meetings. And occasionally when she was fishing. Often when she was fishing, now that she considered the matter. She'd row her boat around a corner in the stream, and there he would be in his skiff. He'd nod his head and smile and say something about the fish or the weather. She'd barely paid him any notice.
He was so overpowering. He took up the whole room. He squeezed the air from it. How had she passed him by so often without notice?
He chuckled. "This fellow is funny," he whispered, tapping the page.
How could he read? She couldn't concentrate on anything but him. His proximity. His smile! It did something to her. Or was it the hot wine she'd had with the cakes downstairs?
She jumped up from the settee and began pacing.
He glanced up from his book and raised his eyebrows as if to ask what was wrong.
She shook her head and continued pacing.
He went back to reading.
She walked behind the settee. His silky hair curled at his collar and she had an urge to reach out and touch it.
If he didn't have any flaws, then he must have been waiting for someone. But that didn't mean he was waiting for her.
Sure, he had blessed her. And he had befriended her at the palace. But he was the type of man who blessed and befriended everyone. Generosity loved him, and even the older maids and Cook doted on him. Repentance sighed. He hadn't treated her any differently than he'd treated any of them. If they'd been in the dungeon he'd have risked his life to save any of them.
She circled the room again.
Sober looked up from his book. "Sit down," he whispered. "You're making me nervous."
She sat on the far end of the settee.
Sober looked over and smiled, his teeth gleaming in the dim light. "You still dislike me so much, eh, Repentance? You can't stand to be stuck in here with me?"
"I never said any such thing," she whispered back.
He leaned toward her. "Why the pacing, then?"
She pulled back.
The door in the wall scraped open.
Repentance held her breath.
Lord Carrull ducked into the room. "They've gone," he said breathlessly. "They suspect nothing. Going door to door. Checking all the houses."
He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his brow. "Those stairs." He tucked his handkerchief away. "Well then, what is next on the agenda? Early to bed, I should think. Tomorrow is a big day. I'll go to the king at first light."
"If you say you know us, won't you be in danger yourself?" Sober asked.
Lord Carrull nodded. "I don't intend to tell him I know you. I plan to make it clear that I'm not ready yet to disclose how I got the news I'm going to share with him. If I can get him to call Tigen in, that might be all it will take."
"Oh, I wish Tigen wasn't needed. It's a terrible thing to ask a small boy to tell on his own father. If the prince goes to the swingman, Tigen will always feel responsible."
"It can't be helped. He's your only witness."
"I tried to protect him. I didn't want him to know his father had tried to kill the king. I thought of asking him to tell the king that his father had a slave hidden in the barn, but I was sure the king wouldn't believe it. He knew Tigen and I were friends. I think if you make Tigen tell, the king will assume that Tigen is lying to help me."
"Not necessarily," Lord Carrul said. "Tigen was not a credible witness while you were in the dungeon. He would have spouted off with any tale he could think up, in order to get you out. But now that you are no longer locked up, he has no reason to lie."
"Lord Carrull," Sober said. "If the king doesn't arrest the prince and if the prince hears what you've done, he might kill you."
"I'll have to make sure the prince doesn't hear. What choice do I have? This king is the friendliest toward slaves that we've ever had, and his life is in danger. If Lord Malficc takes the throne we're all going to suffer. I shudder to think."
Repentance sat back in the settee thinking. She'd had it in her mind that if the king believed Lord Carrull, she would have to go back to a life of slavery at the palace. But ... "So, if you aren't going to tell the king you know us, we can still go to Montphilo."
"I'm not going to stop you. If no one ever finds out that you've been here, I'll be happy."
"I can't go to Montphilo," Sober said. "I have a responsibility to my Mistress. She has been good to me and I'll not run off after all she's given me."
"All she's given?" Repentance was horrified. "She's a slaver."
Sober gave her a stern look. "She's risked much to save your family."
"And I'm grateful. But you don't owe her your life. She had no business owning you in the first place. She has no business telling you where you can and can't go."
Lord Carrull made a shushing noise. "Repentance, you still haven't learned, have you? Think first, child, and speak after that."
Sober gave him a dirty look. "What right do you overlords have to put us on the slave dock in the first place? Unless you've been abused by men you don't even know, kidnapped from your home, torn from your family, threatened, and beaten, maybe you ought to not be so quick to judge Repentance."
Lord Carrull started to answer, but stopped himself. "You're right, young man. Right to call me on it and right to stand up for your sweetheart."
Repentance gasped.
Lord Carrull smiled. "My apologies, Repentance. Forgive me for being harsh with you."
Sober turned to Repentance and said gently, "I do owe Mistress Merricc. She saved me when she bought me off the dock. I have to work to repay her the beads she spent on me."
"And now my family? You're working to pay her
for them, too?"
His cheeks flushed. "I'm happy pay, Repentance."
"But we'll be in Montphilo and you won't be there with us."
He smiled. "Are you saying you'll miss me?"
"Of course she'll miss you," Lord Carrull said. "You're her hero." Hearing a noise, he turned toward the secret door. "Ah, Compassion, good. I'm guessing our guests would appreciate turns in the bathing rooms before bed."
Repentance nodded her agreement, and thanked Providence for the maid's timely interruption.
"The beds are made up," Compassion said. "And the hot water is ready in both bathing rooms if the young people are so inclined."
Repentance shot her a smile. "I most certainly am inclined. Thank you, Compassion."
The maid bowed her head slightly. "And the young man?"
"I can think of nothing I'd like better."
The maid nodded and backed away from the doorway.
Repentance followed, feeling a little dizzy. Her family was safe.
There was that to be thankful for.
And Lord Carrull would explain everything to the king. And she would join her family in Montphilo.
But Sober?
He wouldn't be there. He'd be working to pay her debt.
So there I stood on the riverbank, dizzy and confused. And what did I do? I climbed to the top of the falls and jumped in again. Love—I mean the button mate kind, not the sister kind—is dangerous and scary, but it made me feel, oh, so alive.
~Repentance Atwater, Mountain Journal
Chapter 32
Repentance woke with a jerk, thinking for a moment that she was back in her cell under the palace. But, no, she was in a warm, soft bed at Lord Carrull's house. Relaxing back into the pillows, she played back the events of the previous evening.
Had Tigen made it safely home? And Comfort! When would she get to see her sister?
She threw back her covers and took the night shade from the sunlamp on the bedside table. Laid over the foot of the bed was a dress. Deep blue, silky material. She took it into the bathing room with her, wondering how Compassion had found a dress to fit her. A lot of slaves traveled through this house. Maybe Lord Carrull kept a variety of clothes on hand for them.
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