by Robin Hobb
My mind had leapt ahead. “If the children are gone, they will accuse you of helping her escape.”
“Or of not preventing her from doing so. To Captain Thayer, it will be one and the same thing.”
“So. You are saying that perhaps we can do it, if you are willing to sacrifice your career. For if she hides, they’ll know all they have to do is wait. And if she flees, with or without the children, you’ll be implicated.”
He nodded.
“Do you think Epiny understands what she is asking of you?”
He gave me a long, slow look. “And what are you asking of me if I don’t act, Nevare? To live as a coward? To witness an innocent woman shamefully executed, and then raise her children, looking into their faces every day? Sooner or later, they will know what became of their mother. Sooner, if I know Kara. I suspect she already knows more than she is letting on to us or the other children. Eventually, they’d all know I stood by and did nothing while their mother was executed for defending them.” He glanced aside and gave a short, contemptuous sigh for my quibbling. “What’s a lost career compared to that?”
I spoke after a long silence. “Spink, I’m so sorry.”
“You didn’t do it, Nevare.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” I muttered, just as Epiny reentered with the teapot and cups. She poured for us and sat down, but then had to leap up when the baby awoke and cried. A moment later, Dia entered, looking wide-awake but tousle-headed after her nap. Spink put her up at the table and gave her a cup of weak tea with sugar in it. Kara and Sem came to join us. When Epiny returned and I looked around at the table crowded with children, the full hopelessness of the situation descended on me. The afternoon was already waning. Could I spirit three children out of the town, hide them in a safe place, and return to break Amzil out of jail and escape with her and the children before dawn? And afterward, could we remain free?
I considered taking them to Kesey and begging him to watch over them. I shook my head. No. I couldn’t involve him, and if we had to flee from there, there was no place to go. I looked across the table at Spink. His grave face echoed my own thoughts. It was impossible. Yet it was what must be done. To succeed, I’d have to get Amzil out of her cell and escape from the town with her and all three of her children. And it would have to be done in such a way that Epiny and Spink did not seem to be involved. I took a breath and spoke through the prattle of the children at the table. “I don’t think I’ll be able to stay long. Tonight, after I visit two old friends, I’ll probably be leaving.” I looked at Epiny, and when I had her attention, I let my eyes wander over the children. Then I looked back at her. “I’d like to get the earliest possible start. Would you pack the essentials for me?”
She looked at the three children that were not her own, and yet were. Her eyes suddenly brightened with tears. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I suppose the sooner that is done, the better.”
The afternoon passed in a strange display of false normalcy. Spink had to return to his duties and feign disinterest in the fate of his housemaid, and even annoyance at the thought of being left with the care of her children. Epiny, on pretense of gathering mending and washing for “spring cleaning,” was going through the children’s clothing and bedding. I went out to look once more at the rickety cart and the ancient horse. I did what little I could to tighten the wheels and gave the old beast a feed of oats. As I did so, I tried frantically to make some real plans, but knew there were too many variables.
The day both dragged and sped by me. The children’s questions about their mother multiplied and increased in frequency. Epiny’s promises of “soon she’ll be back” began to wear thin for them. Dia became fretful, but Sem was angry and Kara downright suspicious. My efforts to make firm plans with Epiny were frustrating, for every time I sought a quiet moment with her, it seemed a little head was popping in, demanding attention or asking yet another question.
Epiny put Kara to kneading bread dough and entrusted Sem with a knife to cut up potatoes for the evening repast. While they were thus busy, we hastily loaded the wagon with the children’s things, some clothing for Amzil, and a supply of food. Epiny kept adding things. A cooking pot and a kettle. Cups and plates. When she started to take their few toys and books from the shelves, I stopped her. “We’re going to have to travel light.”
“For a child, these are essentials,” she said, but sighed and put some of the items back. We carried them out to the cart and loaded them. Over all, I tossed a blanket, and could only pray that no one would give it a second glance.
Epiny left me with the children while she hurried off to “visit” one of her whistle brigade who lived close to the edge of Gettys. In a town like Gettys, she knew the news of Amzil’s hanging would have flown far and wide. To Agna, she would confide that she wished Amzil’s children to be as far from the gallows as possible when their mother met her fate tomorrow. Epiny would ask if she would take them in for the night.
While she was off doing that, I was left in charge of the children, including Solina. The baby was supposed to take another nap while Epiny was gone. Instead, she woke the moment the door closed and began to cry lustily. I was pathetically grateful when a gingerly check of her napkin revealed that it was still clean and dry. I picked the babe up, put her on my shoulder and walked about the room as I had seen Epiny do. The three children had gathered to witness my incompetence. Solina’s wails only grew louder.
“You’re supposed to bounce her a little while you walk,” Sem offered helpfully.
“No!” Kara said disdainfully. “That’s what women do. He’s supposed to sit in the rocker and rocker her and sing her a song.”
As neither the walking nor the bouncing had helped, this seemed a good idea. Once I was seated with Solina, they all gathered round me so closely that I feared I would rock on small toes. “Rock her!” Sem commanded me impatiently.
“And sing her a nursery song,” Kara added imperiously. Obviously they had gauged Epiny’s attitude toward me and based their own upon it. And so I laboriously rocked and sang the nursery songs that I knew. Dia made so bold as to climb up on my lap and join the baby. When I had worked through my nursery songs, and Solina had quieted but not fallen asleep, Kara asked me thoughtfully, “Do you know any counting songs?”
“Oh, one or two,” I admitted, and her theory proved correct, for before we had counted backward from the ten little lambs for the second time, the baby was sleeping. It was tricky to get Dia off my lap and then stand without waking Solina, and trickier still to put her back in her little bed without waking her. I shooed the other children out of the room. Sem and Dia had readily scampered off down the hall, but Kara waited for me. As I shut the door of the room, she reached up in the dimness and took my hand. She looked up at me, her small face pale in the darkened corridor.
“You’re him, aren’t you? The man that gave us food that winter.”
“Kara, I—”
“I know it’s you, so don’t lie. You sang the same songs before. Don’t you remember? And I heard the Lieutenant call you Nevare. And Mum said you would come back someday. Maybe.” She didn’t give me a chance to confirm or deny her words. She took a sharp breath. “And my mother’s in trouble, isn’t she? That’s why she hasn’t come home.”
“She’s in a little bit of trouble. But we think that it will be sorted out soon and—”
“Because there’s a plan.” She interrupted me. “If my mother is ever in trouble, there’s a plan. She made it and she told it to me.” Her head came up and she added gravely, “I’m in charge of it. I have to remember it.”
She kept my hand in a small firm grip and led me to the little room that they all shared. She knelt beside the bedstead to pull up the loosened floorboard. The “plan” proved to be a small sack of coins hidden there. In with the coins was a simple silver ring with a rose engraved on it. “I’m to give this bag to the missus and ask her to keep taking care of us. She’s to have it all, except the ring. She has to keep
that safe in case Sem ever wants to grow up and marry a girl, so he’ll have a ring to give her. It was our grandma’s.”
“That’s a good plan,” I told her. “But I hope we won’t need it. I’m going to try to get your mother out of trouble. Then we’ll come for you. If the missus can arrange it, you and Dia and Sem will be in a house at the edge of town. Your mum and I will come there, load you in the cart, and go. But you can’t tell Sem or Dia about the plan yet. You have to keep it secret and remember it, and help them to be good until I come for you tonight. Can you do that?”
“Of course. But where is our mother? And where have you been and why were you gone so long?”
“Those are all questions that I’m going to have to answer later, Kara. For now, you’ll have to trust me.”
At that, she looked at me doubtfully, but finally nodded gravely.
When Epiny returned, she was not pleased to discover how much Kara knew. “That’s a big burden to put on very small shoulders,” she scolded me.
“You’re the one who keeps telling me not to lie to people,” I replied, and she sighed in exasperation.
There was no time for us to have doubts about it. Epiny loaded the children into the cart and took them off to her friend’s house. By the time she returned, on foot, Solina had awakened. Epiny took the baby from me and bowed her head over her child. “It struck me as I was leaving them there that I might never see them again. I wanted to say good-bye, but could not, for fear of alarming them or making Agna wonder what was going on. It was so hard to leave them there. Kara was so calm about all of it, but Sem demanded to know why they had to stay there for the night. Dia was busy looking at Agna’s two goats. I don’t think she even noticed I’d gone.”
I took my cousin in my arms and held her and her child close for a moment. “It won’t be the last time you’ll see them, I promise. I’ll get Amzil out of her cell, and she and the children and I will get cleanly away. And when we can, I’ll send word to you. And someday you’ll see all of us again.”
There was a knock at the door and I let her go. It was the neighbor’s housemaid, Rasalle, with Lieutenant Gerry’s carefully bundled clothing. Our time to hesitate was over. All was as ready as we could make it. I retreated to Spink’s room to dress for my charade.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
FACE-TO-FACE
I can’t just stay here while he goes,” Epiny protested to Spink. Her husband had just come in the door, and she had practically run to him to try to sway him from my cruel order.
“What are you talking about?”
I stepped around the corner into the hall, tugging at my collar. Had clothing always been this uncomfortable? Spink’s second pair of boots were, despite his small size, a bit too large on me. The old workaday sword belt that held my mediocre weapon looked out of place with my fine new clothes, but I refused to set out completely unarmed. I’d have given a great deal to have Sergeant Duril’s little “pepper pot” gun. Epiny had Spink’s back to the door and was looking at him with rebuke. I rescued him.
“Epiny, it’s not up to Spink. It’s my decision. You’re not going.” To Spink I said, “I’ve told her that she must stay here while I call on the Captain. One way or another, I’ll have that key. One way or another, I’ll have Amzil tonight. The children and the cart are already waiting for us on the edge of town. If I must do violence, I don’t want either of you involved.” I rounded on Epiny and spoke as severely as I could to her. “If you go, you’ll only rouse suspicion. I know it’s hard. But what you must do right now is stay here and wait.”
She turned to Spink. “Couldn’t we go to the prison and be there, in case he needs our help?”
“And take Solina and put her in danger? Or risk alerting the guards that we are up to something? No, dear. Hard as it is, you will both have to stay here and keep the candles lit and preserve the illusion that you are enjoying a quiet supper together.”
“I can’t do it!” Epiny wailed, even as Spink looked at me aghast and said, “Surely you don’t mean for me to stay here like a tethered dog while you face all the danger?”
“I do mean it. And, Epiny, you will. For Solina’s sake. And, quite bluntly, for the sake of Spink’s career. It cannot look like he had anything to do with this. It’s bad enough that it will be known that your cousin was involved. But I think you can make me out to be extremely eccentric or the black sheep of the family. Or simply say you have no idea why I did it.”
“But what if you need help?” Spink asked me.
“Look. I’ve thought it through carefully. If I fail, if I cannot free Amzil, and we are, well, captured. Or killed. Or captured and then killed. Well, you must be here and intact. So that the children have something familiar to come back to. All you have to do is talk to Kara and you will know that was Amzil’s plan; evidently she always feared this would catch up with her. And now it has.”
My voice faltered on those final words. “But, Nevare, see here—” Spink began.
I lifted a hand. “No. Stop. It is time for you to stop being a part of my disaster. It’s time you had a little peace, a bit of contentment, some time to enjoy your child without the hardships I’ve brought on you. I did all this, don’t you see? I wrote it out in my journal, you read it, and you know what I mean. My misfortune opened Epiny up to the magic. It nearly dragged both of you to your deaths last time we battled it. I bent the magic to my own ends when I made the ground give up food for Amzil. And now it will have its revenge on me. It is as implacable as Orandula. And I can’t let you be caught up into this scales-balancing. Stay clear. Stay safe so that I can do what I must with a clear mind, not worrying about Solina’s future as an orphan.”
Epiny gasped at my last words and clutched her babe closer. I looked at Spink. “I saw you command, that night when I rode against you. I saw you made some of your line hold fire, and not step forward until the first volley had flown. Very well. Tonight you hold your fire and wait. I am the first volley. If we all go out into the battle together, when we fall, there will be no one left to catch the children’s lives for them. Stand at my back, Spink, so I can go out without fear.”
His mouth worked and he suddenly looked much younger. He got very pink around the eyes, and then he put his arm around his wife’s shoulders and held her. “Good luck, Nevare. And good-bye.”
“Nevare!” Epiny cried, but I knew I could not stay any longer. I hunched my shoulders and stepped out into the twilight. As I strode away from their humble little house, I clapped my borrowed hat on my head and breathed a fervent prayer to the good god to look after them. Then I hardened my heart and refused to think on them any more that night.
I strode down quiet streets lit only by the lamplight that seeped out from houses. Far too many of them were dark and abandoned. Even when I reached the main street of the fort and turned, an eerie quiet prevailed. There were no longer that many soldiers to be out and about in the evening, and Captain Thayer’s strict rules had reduced even that number. He disapproved of drunkenness, gambling, and even rowdy songs and lively dances. With the town outside the fort reduced in population, there were few places for the soldiers to go, and little to do once they got there. No wonder Kesey’s graveyard card parties had become so popular.
The cooling night air was settling the dew. The moisture woke the odors of burned timber and abandoned buildings. As I drew closer to the jail where I had been held, I debated with myself, and then decided that a bit of reconnoitering might not be a bad idea. I walked past it and then approached it again from the alley. I walked as quietly as I could through the coarse grass and the uneven debris there.
The uppermost floor had been burned away to timbers and rafters. The ground floor was mostly intact, but no lights showed through the broken panes of the windows. That left the foundation level, the cells built mostly belowground. The fire would not have bothered them. I halted and stood still, listening, but no sound came to me. The walls, I recalled, were thick blocks of stone mortared together. If Amzil
wept, ranted, or screamed, I could not hear her. My heart stood still at that thought, and squeezed at the idea of her in a tiny, lightless room, waiting to die in the morning. I drew in a silent shuddering breath.
I nearly tripped over a broken piece of stone, and in the darkness, I walked right into a tree branch. I caught myself against the building before I fell and froze there, hoping I had not made too much noise. My eyes were adjusting to the dark and I suddenly knew where I was. The rubble that had tripped me had come from the escape hole that Lisana’s roots had torn in the side of my cell. Daring to hope, I knelt in the darkness, but the wall had been roughly but effectively mended with stone and mortar. I’d find no easy entry there. On the ground, I could still feel the lumpy cascade of root that had torn the walls apart.
Then, with a strange shiver, I touched the trunk of the tree that had sprung up from it. In the darkness, I stood up, feeling the bark, then pinching a glossy leaf. The aroma from it was unmistakable. A kaembra tree was growing from the roots Lisana had sent to free me. Strange thoughts rushed through me. I felt that somehow I closed a circle. Touching this tree, I touched Lisana, I touched Soldier’s Boy, and beyond them, the ancestor trees in the distant vale. Even, I thought to myself, Buel Hitch. But more than that, I suddenly thought. Touching this tree, I touched both forest and Forest. I touched a life left behind, and just for a moment, I yearned for it.
Then, “Good-bye,” I told them all. “Chances are, I won’t free Amzil. Chances are, I’m condemning myself to death tonight. But it’s nice to think that you’ll go on together, even if I don’t. So I forgive you for taking what you could get of each other, even if it left me on the outside. I even forgive you, Soldier’s Boy. Farewell.”
I heard something then, a soft shifting in the darkness. I froze. I waited. I breathed quietly, counting my indrawn breaths. Nothing. There was no more sound, and I judged that I’d heard a cat, or more likely a rat creeping down the alley. Silent as a shadow myself, I completed my circuit of the building. Very gently, I tried the door at the end. Locked. But I recalled there was another one. I went around the side to it and down a short flight of stone steps. Well did I recall trying to negotiate those steps with painfully tight shackles around my ankles. I went down them and tried the door handle. It, too, was locked. Captain Thayer’s sentries would be inside, guarding her cell.