Spy, Spy Again

by Mercedes Lackey

  All right. I’m going to let sleeping dogs alone, as the saying is. The one thing I could do to drive him straight into a commitment to her would be to criticize her or his feelings, because he’s going to feel he has to justify them. No point in getting into a fight with him about the girl, when, odds are, the minute they lay eyes on one another, he’s going to get a rather rude awakening.

  Especially if she has absolutely no interest in him.

  That made him feel a good bit better. Because why should she? He’s a total stranger and a foreigner, and the only reason he got involved in this is because he had a dream in his head that, no matter what, is not going to match up with reality, now, is it? I just hope she doesn’t break his heart too badly when she turns him down.

  At least we’re not likely to be in any sort of situation where she’s going to laugh at him. Things are going to be pretty damn frantic when we finally get to her. We’re all going to be too busy trying to survive to worry about feelings.

  Well, now that brought up the horse in the solar; they were going to try to break this girl out of a Karsite prison. Presumably an extremely secure one. He and Kee would probably be able to help, but the fundamental planning and work were all going to be on Ahkhan. So far, neither he nor Kee had been able to see outside that cell to understand what the conditions were. They had no idea how many guards there were, where her cell was, or anything other than that the cell was above ground. And neither of them had any experience at all in breaking into or out of something as fortified as a prison.

  We probably had better all have a conversation about that.

  Sooner, rather than later.

  * * *

  • • •

  The farmers and herdsmen of Karse avoided them as if they were infected with plague. The town- and village-folk interacted with them only when they were forced to sell things to them. So even though these hills were inhabited, they were just as isolated as they’d been in the desert. And there were absolutely no road signs either; they only knew they were going the right way by frequently consulting a heavily annotated map that had served Tiron for decades, because there was literally no way of telling whether the “road”—more like a faint track—they were following was the right one or was one that had diverged from the proper road a few leagues ago.

  Tory, of course, had absolutely no idea of where they were. All he knew was that the hills had gotten steep enough that they effectively shielded the farms behind them from the road. These people really don’t want to have anything to do with strangers.

  Of course, if they were the least little bit helpful to strangers, particularly nonKarsite strangers, they ran the risk of accusations of being tainted by heresy. Or worse, of being heretics themselves.

  I don’t imagine they want anything to do with their own troopers either. So, another good reason to keep hidden too.

  The road wound in and around the hills, effectively muffling sound and hiding anything that was more than a few furlongs ahead of them.

  So it came as a complete and utter surprise to everyone when the road made a sudden turning out onto a flat plain—and there was a barricade across it, manned by. . . .

  . . . . far, far too many armed troops. Way more than they could handle.

  These looked nothing at all like the Border Patrol troops. Their armor, their uniforms, were all matching and in good repair. They weren’t milling about, even though they looked just as surprised to see the caravan as Tiron’s people were to see them. And the moment these troops realized they were not alone, they formed up, both in front of and behind the barricade.

  Kee, Ahkhan, and Tory were at the rear, so they couldn’t hear Tiron, but Tory imagined that he was cursing under his breath. Nevertheless, he directed the caravan to continue, only signaling for them to stop when he and Birk were face to face with what looked like the commanding officer of this troop.

  “Turn yourself right around and go back the way you came,” the officer commanded, his voice sounding strained. “No traffic on this road until further notice!”

  Now that they were closer, it was clear to Tory that every single one of these men was under some tremendous stress. Clenched jaws, furrowed brows, white knuckles as they clutched their weapons, and the telltale signs of faint trembling that showed they had been under this stress for far too long told Tory—and, without a doubt, also told Tiron and Ahkhan—that these men were not too far from breaking.

  So it was with no surprise that he heard Tiron speaking in soothing tones, rather than impatient ones—or worse, barking out a challenge. “Troop Leader, we’re simple merchants. We’re conveying a cargo of some import to the High Priests Durchloss, Entschmitt, and Gurether. They want it—they are expecting it—rather urgently.”

  The troop leader winced visibly at those names, but he shook his head vehemently. “I’m sorry. No one passes. No one at all. That’s my orders. Now, you can turn around and go back the way you came, or you can go straight east around that hill behind you, where you’ll find a track that will take you into Menmellith, and from there you can make your way into Hardorn, cross the border there, and travel down again along the Sunserpent River. But you can’t pass here.”

  “But the High Priests—” Tiron persisted.

  The troop leader swallowed visibly, but he remained firm. “I will take personal responsibility for the delay. I’ll even send a message to that effect, if you can write it.”

  “I can,” Tiron said steadily, and motioned to Ismal, who jumped down off the wagon seat and took the reins of his horse. Tiron rummaged around in the back of the leading wagon and returned with a sealed note, which he handed to the troop leader. “Will you pledge by your faith in the Sunlord that you will see that message delivered to the three High Priests at Son’s Landing?” he asked.

  “I pledge this,” the troop leader said. “Now, you must turn around. And be across the border or far, far down the road as soon as you can, or I cannot guarantee your further safety.”

  That was when Tory managed to angle himself so he could see into the plain beyond the barricade—a plain ringed by hills—

  In the center of which stood what looked to be a very large structure.

  With a high tower.

  And he had no doubt at that moment that they had found where Sira was imprisoned.

  Rather than going back the way they had come, Tiron directed the caravan to take the alternative route, the one that the troop leader had said would take them into Menmellith. And for a while no one said a word as they guided horses and wagons over rough, rocky terrain that threatened to break wagon wheels and horse ankles until they finally got to an even fainter track leading west that at least had the virtue of being smooth.

  And that was where Tiron held up a hand, halting them all. At his signal, all the guards and the merchants dismounted from wagons and horses and gathered around him.

  “What the actual seven hells?” he exploded, and then he fell silent, unable to get words past his outrage.

  All the others exchanged looks, except for Ahkhan, Tory, and Kee. Tory held his tongue; this was not his secret to give away. Kee also wisely remained quiet. Finally Ahkhan spoke, reluctantly.

  “The structure in the middle of the plain behind the barricade. . . .”

  “What about it?” Tiron demanded. “We’ve gone past it two dozen times or more with no problems. The road doesn’t go anywhere near it—the road skirts the edges of the hills.”

  “It’s a prison,” Ahkhan replied.

  “And?”

  “There is . . . someone in it. Someone dangerous to the Karsites. Someone who has unexpectedly given them trouble.”

  Tory held his breath, and he sensed that everyone else except Tiron and Ahkhan was doing the same.

  Tiron took three, slow, measured breaths. “And I am guessing you have something to do with this prisoner?” he said at last.r />
  Ahkhan nodded.

  “And the reason the troop leader told us to get the hell out is because the demon-summoners are on the way to deal with this prisoner.”

  Ahkhan inclined his head. “Very probably.”

  “And now you’re going to leave us, because you three are either foolhardy, gallant idiots, or you’re even more dangerous than that prisoner, and you intend to get the prisoner out before the demon-summoners arrive.”

  Ahkhan sighed. “We are probably both,” he admitted.

  Tory had no idea Tiron knew how to curse so fluently.

  But when the caravan leader had finished, he fell silent again.

  It was Ahkhan who broke that silence. “If I may have access to your writing supplies, I may have a solution to your dilemma that will result in, at most, a small loss to you, as opposed to a total loss. I can give you an introduction to Amber Moon North and entreat them to purchase the whole of your cargo.”

  “And if you’d prefer to make a bigger profit, I can guarantee that in Valdemar,” Kee said. “I just need access to those same supplies.”

  Tiron stared at him, rage draining out of him to be replaced by utter astonishment. “And just who are you that you can guarantee anything in Valdemar?” he demanded, then shook his head. “Never mind. I’m better off not knowing. Ismal, take them to the writing chest.”

  In the end, all three of them wrote letters. Ahkhan wrote to the head of Amber Moon North, enclosed another letter inside it, and sealed it all with his Talisman. And Kee wrote to the ranking officer at the Guard Post on the Border, enclosed a letter to his father in that, and sealed it all with his signet ring.

  And Tory wrote to his father via his father’s closest agent just over the Border and sealed his with nothing at all, since the letter was in code and it didn’t matter who saw it.

  It was a difficult letter to write because there was at least a fifty percent chance that by the time his father and mother saw it—well, he and Kee would be dead. In it, he took full responsibility for letting Kee get away with this crazy, stupid idea of rescuing his cousin. He begged their forgiveness for allowing any of this to happen. But he reminded them that at least the two of them had bought absolute security for Valdemar forever, at least from the Sleepgivers, and that, all things considered, was probably worth their lives.

  That’s my judgment anyway, Father, and you said I was old enough to trust my own judgment.

  And, heyla, maybe by the time you get this letter we’ll all be laughing about it.

  That was all he could manage; he was already feeling sick.

  He didn’t know what Kee had written, but the Prince was white-lipped and determined-looking as he handed over his letter to Tiron.

  “I should try to dissuade you three,” the older man said heavily. “But I can see there’s no point in trying. I’ll be praying for your success to all the gods I can think of.”

  “I would like you to take our horses,” said Ahkhan, shocking Tory. “They will be of no use to us if we succeed, and they will be a handicap as we cross that open plain. If you go into Valdemar, the border guard with the ginger moustache and beard expressed an admiration for my Natya. I would like you to sell her to him. He has a good eye for horseflesh and will care for her well.”

  Natya is like a clan member to him . . .

  He either thinks we’re going to fail, or he is stripping down to essentials so we can get in and out before the demon-summoners get here. In either case . . .

  Bloody hell.

  * * *

  • • •

  They had only trail rations, water, and weapons. No extra clothing, no bedding. Moving with great caution, making sure they could not be detected, they had made their way through the hills up north past the road and the barricade on it. Out there in the plain, when there were breaks between the hills, the structure loomed, like a dark fist extended skyward.

  Tory was glad of the concentration it was taking to keep under cover, scuttling from spot to spot. It meant he wasn’t thinking about anything else.

  Finally Ahkhan reckoned they were far enough away from the barricade that they could pick a place overlooking the valley directly, and he chose the top of a low hill to aim for.

  Once they had a spot where they could see the tower clearly and had made certain they were out of sight of the guards on the road, Ahkhan had all three of them settle down under the cover of some bushes to wait until dark. The only way they were going to get across that empty expanse was under cover of darkness.

  But, ironically, Tory saw that once they could get across most of it, there was some cover in the form of scrubby trees and more bushes, probably marking where a seasonal waterway flowed. So once they got there, they could take cover again and study the walls and the tower itself at their leisure.

  They all lay down on their stomachs, careful to make sure nothing showed outside the protection of the sprawling bushes. Tory wasn’t sure what kind of bushes these were--some kind of scraggly evergreen, perhaps, with very short, stubby needles. He was glad it was winter. At least they didn’t have to worry about insects getting into their clothing.

  “It might seem counterintuitive,” Ahkhan said quietly, as Tory studied the ground immediately in front of them, plotting the best route from scant bit of cover to bit of cover, “But our best chance to penetrate the tower, once we are across the valley, might come by daylight. And in the meantime, perhaps the two of you can look in on Sira once again and at least get a sense of which floor she is on. That will narrow our target area considerably.”

  “I can do that without looking,” said Kee, unexpectedly. “I can tell. She’s on the top floor of the tower.”

  They were all lying side-by-side on their stomachs under the cover of the bushes, with Kee between Tory and Ahkhan—and both of them turned their heads simultaneously to stare at him.

  “How—” Tory said, “—exactly?”

  “It’s—” Kee fumbled for the words. “It’s like I can see heat, except it’s not heat. But this close to her, even without touching Tory, if I look out there sort of sideways, it’s as if I’m right next to the tower, and I can see a kind of glowing silhouette of her, right through the wall. There’re three other things in there too, with her. One’s shaped like a man, one’s shaped like a dog, and one’s a weird shape sort of floating in midair.”

  Tory’s first thought was, Oh, thank the gods, it’s not a Lifebond! But his next was, Then what in the seven hells is it?

  For the first time in their acquaintance, Tory saw Ahkhan’s mouth drop open in surprise and shock. And it took him a moment to recover.

  And when the Sleepgiver did recover, what he said made Tory’s jaw drop.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you were a Mage?”

  “I’m a Mage?” Kee spluttered. Now his jaw sagged.

  “You must be,” Ahkhan asserted. “That is the only explanation for what you are seeing. We have Mages in the Nation. This is how some of them describe seeing other Mages when they are not shielded. And I have suspected that those ‘not human’ things you have been talking about that were with her, and apparently helping or guarding her, were some manner of magical creature.”

  “I can’t be a Mage! Mages can’t be in Valdemar without going insane! There haven’t been any Mages since Vanyel!” Kee protested—but weakly.

  “As long as nothing triggered your Mage Gift, yes, you would be fine in Valdemar,” Tory reminded him, thinking out loud. “And I imagine the same power that keeps Mages out of Valdemar also prevents the Mage Gift from manifesting. It would be intolerably cruel, otherwise. But there’s no reason to believe that the Mage Gift itself has died out since Vanyel’s time. It’s most probably just been kept dormant.”

  “I—uh—”

  The ramifications of this were probably just now dawning on Kee. They certainly were on Tory.

 
Because, at the worst, Kee could never go home again. Not without risking losing his sanity.

  But Tory was . . . to say envious was minimizing how he felt. He could already picture what he would do in Kee’s position. Ask Amber Moon North for training, just for a start. Then become his father’s agent outside of Valdemar. And a Mage Spy! How incredible would that be?

  “We will discuss this further if we survive all this,” said Ahkhan, bringing everything right back to the present moment. “Meanwhile, tell me if you see something unusual. And if you feel power rising in you to do something, then do it. Even untrained, it will be a weapon, and weapons are something we sorely need at this moment.”

  “Uh—right.” Kee squinted his eyes in the direction of the tower. “I think they’re all talking.”

  “Can you see anything else in that prison glowing with Mage Power?” Ahkhan asked, as practical as ever.

  Kee stared out over the plain, his eyes practically crossing with effort. “No,” he said, finally.

  “Would he, if they were shielded, the way Heralds can shield themselves with Mind-magic?” Tory asked him.

  “I do not know,” Ahkhan admitted. “But I do not think they would have any reason to do so and waste the energy. And that is good. That means there are no demon-summoners among them.”

  “Yet,” Tory reminded them all. “Yet.”

  15

  Sira stared at the Stone Man, too stunned even to think. Why—was it laughing?

  But the other two afrinns were not in the least alarmed by this. So, presumably, whatever it was laughing about had no sinister overtones.

  The laughter went on for a very long time, more than long enough for her nerves to calm. More than long enough for her to wish the afrinn would make some attempt to communicate with her. But she reminded herself that of all the afrinns, the creatures of earth were the most inclined to take their own good time about things.