Nobody tried to stop Rawk this time as he marched into the private areas of the palace a few minutes later, but a group of four guards trailed along behind, making their displeasure known.
Rawk strode through the halls, trying to work out what he was going to say to Weaver. Once he had known the prince. Once he’d known how to manipulate him into doing what he wanted. The dwarves did the same thing, apparently, convincing the prince that the ideas were his. But now, Rawk wasn’t so sure. He felt like he didn’t know Weaver at all.
Nearing Weaver’s private study, distracted, Rawk jumped back when a door opened right in front of him. His shadows were amused. And Rawk was even more surprised when Natan stepped out into the hall.
“Natan?” He said it cheerily enough, before realization struck him. Natan may well be the enemy he’d been searching for. Did the sudden burst of fear show in his eyes? He tried to steady his breathing.
“Ho, Rawk.” Natan looked around. “What are you doing here?”
Rawk swallowed. “I was going to ask you the same thing.” He felt his hand inching towards the hilt of Kaj. Natan’s eyes were drawn to the movement and Rawk put his hand on his hip instead.
“Well, I’ve been doing some work for Weaver.”
“You have?” He decided it was the strangest conversation he’d ever had, pushing his first real conversation with Sylvia to second place. “What do you actually do, again?”
“I do all sorts of things. I am a consultant. I am a finder of things, and a finder of information. I am a hider of things too, if that’s what you need.”
“You’re a spy?”
“If it pays well enough, though it is usually a bit strenuous for me, I must say. And all that sneaking is undignified.”
“It is. I’ve never liked it much myself.”
“Oh, I certainly see you as a running-in-with-sword-swinging type of man.”
“That I am.”
“Well, I don’t run—”
“Undignified?”
“Exactly. And I don’t carry a sword, so my work is normally of a more clerical nature.”
“I see. I don’t like that much either.”
The soldiers were getting a bit restless. It almost made Rawk want to continue talking, but Natan seemed to be just as keen to get moving again.
“I must go, I am afraid.” Natan motioned back the way Rawk had come. “I still have a few people to consultify before the day is done.”
“Well, I’ll see you later then.” His hand was on the hilt of his sword now. It twitched. But he didn’t draw. Even if he were quick enough to kill Natan before being blasted by some sort of horrible magic, which he doubted, he’d be dead a moment later because the guards were looking for any excuse to draw as well.
“I should hope so. Tell Travis I will be late back tonight.”
“I’ll let him know.” Rawk breathed and loosened his grip.
The soldiers sneered at Natan as he went past, but the big man didn’t seem to notice. “Hello, boys. So nice to see you again.” He waved cheerily and patted one on the arm.
The soldier looked as if he was going to die from disgust, making Rawk wish Natan didn’t now make his skin crawl too. He shook off the feeling and hurried further along the hall.
But at the next corner he stopped. He could see Weaver’s door from where he stood. It was barely twenty paces away, heavy and banded with iron as if it needed to withstand sieges.
Rawk felt his hand on the hilt of his sword again. “Natan works for Weaver,” he muttered. “Weaver dreams of the good old days, when there were creatures everywhere for the killing.” He looked at the two men guarding the door. He looked at the men behind him. And turned and went back the way he came.
“Hey, where are you going?” The men blocked his path.
Rawk shook his head. He cleared his throat. “I want to show Weaver something, but I just realized that I forgot it.”
“I knew you were an idiot.”
“I’m getting old. You’ll be like this too one day.”
“You were always an idiot.”
Rawk glanced back over his shoulder, though the door was gone from sight. “Apparently.” Weaver didn’t just wish the good old days were back, he was doing something to make it happen.
-O-
Rawk quietly closed the door and leaned back against the rough timber. “He isn’t going to let Sylvia go.”
There was a gasp and Rawk noticed Celeste sitting in Sylvia’s chair, cup of tea halfway to her lips. He would have softened the blow if he’d realized she was there. Juskin was there as well.
“How do you know? He is your friend.”
“He is never going to let her go.”
Juskin closed the book he was reading. “Perhaps if you—”
“Weaver loves me.” Rawk shook his head and sighed. He rubbed his hand over his face. “He thinks I’ve been ensnared by Sylvia. At least he’s convinced himself that that’s what happened. He’ll never let her go.”
Juskin looked over the top of his spectacles. “I know a lawyer. We could...”
“The law is on his side, Juskin. It is illegal for sorcery to be used in Katamood. He can say Sylvia is opening the portals and who’s going to argue? She’s Silver Lark and for years I told everyone how evil she was.”
“But...” Celeste put down the cup.
“He’s Prince Weaver. He brought law and order to Katamood. The people love him.”
“What are we going to do?” Juskin asked. “If the law is not on our side then...”
“Indeed.” Rawk pushed himself away from the door and went to look at the book that Natan had written. It seemed heavier than it had before. He opened it up, as if some type of sorcery might be the cause. But it was just ancient crackling pages held between leather covers. He starred at the boxy, staccato, blurry text.
There was a drawn out silence.
“The people don’t love him, Rawk.” Celeste was staring at her hand, rubbing the tips of her fingers. “The humans love him. And even then, it’s only those on the north of the river, really. The south may well be a different world sometimes.”
“So, what are you saying?” He was angrier than he should have been. It wasn’t Celeste’s fault.
She shrugged. “I don’t know. I am just saying.”
“Right. Sorry. I didn’t...”
“It’s all right.” She laid a hand on his arm. She took a deep breath. “Where is she?”
“The Quod.”
Another gasp. “The Quod?” She cleared her throat. “So, will you let her stay there?”
“Of course not.”
“And Weaver will never let her out?”
“No. I’m sure of it.”
“Well...”
Rawk turned to look at her. “You’re saying I have to break her out of prison?”
“I merely made you rule out one option. You came up with the next option on your own.”
Rawk sat down at the desk. “It’s not as simple as that. If I break her out, Weaver will know it was me. And he will have to put Sylvia back in prison, and possibly me as well.”
“Or you leave town.”
Rawk looked at Celeste. “Katamood is my home; I will not leave.”
“Then the law has to change,” Celeste said quietly.
“Weaver won’t change the law. It is doing exactly what he wants it to do at the moment— putting him in control of me.”
Juskin cleared his throat. “An innocent woman is being held against her will by men who are upholding unjust laws for selfish reasons. Sylvia cannot be taken from the Quod legally. So our options are, get her out illegally or change the law.”
“She could be dead tomorrow. We can’t change the law that quickly.”
“Well then...” Juskin pushed his glasses further up onto his nose and rose to his feet.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m sure the dwarves will have the architectural drawings for the Quod somewhere.”
“You
’re kidding.”
“Do you know who we should ask? I’ve never been all that far south of the river before.”
The old man was heading out the door. Rawk looked at Celeste and they hurried to follow.
The sun was setting by the time they made it to Caldera. Rawk’s knee was aching and that was making his hip ache too, so he stopped to lean against the last of the houses before the tunnel. “I need to rest.”
“We don’t have time to waste,” Juskin said. It looked like he could go all night. “Where are we actually going?”
Rawk pushed away from the wall, but Celeste led them past the incognito-guards and into the tunnel.
“A cave? I thought the dwarves stopped living in caves years ago.”
“It isn’t a cave,” Celeste said. “And dwarves still live in caves, if caves are the best place available.”
“Really? When are caves the best place available?”
“On the side of a mountain. Or anywhere where the weather is extreme, really. Caves generally have a very regular temperature.”
“Oh, I suppose so.”
“Like she said, though, this isn’t a cave,” Rawk said. And they stepped out into the hidden valley.
“Oh my.”
Rawk smiled at the old man’s expression for a moment, but then he remembered why they were there. “Do you know where Thacker actually lives, Celeste?”
“At his office.”
“Of course he does.”
Rake was no longer amongst the guards, but they let them through without a word. They caught the tram around to the far side of the valley with Juskin hanging on as if his life depended on it. It was busier than what Rawk was used to with locals heading home after finishing work for the day. But the crowds were quiet, which was totally out of character for the dwarves if not the others. They sat in silent contemplation, staring at their hands or out at the city. Rawk sat and stared with them.
Down on the street, a dwarf stopped by a lamppost for a moment. He fiddled with something then light blossomed at the top.
“How does he do that?”
“It’s a gas lamp,” Celeste told him. “They open a valve to let gas through and then light it. It is much easier and quicker than the oil lanterns up north, but Weaver won’t agree to the initial cost. That’s what Grint told me, anyway.”
Rawk craned his neck as the tram passed the dwarf and watched as he lit another lamp.
“I think they are working on making it automatic, but I don’t know if they can make it happen. That is a lot of pilot lights and a lot of gas.”
Rawk didn’t really know what a pilot light was. He didn’t say anything. All he could think was that the dwarves were always moving into the future while Weaver was stuck in the good old days.
“What are we going to say to Thacker when we see him?” Juskin asked, cleaning his spectacles as he blinked out at the city, still trying to see.
“The truth.”
The old man raised his eyebrows. “You think he will help us break a prisoner from jail?”
“Yes.” Rawk had no doubt at all. “We’ll probably have to convince him to stay at home.”
Thacker didn’t say he wanted to go with them, but the look on his face said clearly enough what he was thinking. “When are you going to do this?” he asked, running his hand through his hair as if it wasn’t always a mess. He sat at the table in the small apartments in the west wing of the administrative building.
Rawk looked at Juskin. “Tonight.”
Thacker grunted. “Short notice.”
“I know. But I’m supposed to go and see her tomorrow, with Weaver. After that...” Rawk shrugged. After that he may decide she has outlived her usefulness. He didn’t want to say it out loud.
“Well, I guess we don’t have a lot of choice. Let’s not even bother talking about this until we have some details.” He called to one of the guards outside the door and sent him off the find a secretary. And when the secretary arrived a few minutes later, he sent the man off to find anything he could to do with the Quod. It was an ancient building, almost as old as the River Watch towers, but apparently the dwarves had information about everything.
While they waited for the man to return, Thacker sent for wine and pastries. It seemed strange to eat and drink while they sat waiting to make their plans. Rawk chewed mechanically on an apricot tart and didn’t even taste it.
“It isn’t your fault,” Celeste said softly, laying a hand on his arm.
Rawk jumped. “Pardon?”
“It isn’t your fault.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“But that’s what you are thinking, isn’t it?”
“If I’d left her alone, Weaver wouldn’t have even know she was there.”
“A thousand decision we make every day change the world, Rawk. If Weaver hadn’t chosen that certain tavern for lunch, the City Guard would not have found you and you would not have gone to the Old Forest to kill the wolden wolf. So you would not have gotten injured and you wouldn’t have needed to see Sylvia at all. So it’s all Weaver’s fault after all.”
“Yes but...”
“But, if Pirates hadn’t taken over Katamood, then Weaver wouldn’t have been prince at all. So perhaps it is the pirates fault.”
“Now you’re being ridiculous.”
Celeste raised her eyebrows and Juskin gave a short, sharp laugh. “Never argue with a woman, Rawk. I thought you would know that by now.”
Rawk grunted and Celeste continued. “Sylvia values your friendship, Rawk. I believe, given the choice, she would change nothing.”
“She told you that?”
“More or less. This is not your fault. So let’s stop worrying about that and fix the problem.”
“Right. Yes.”
“And damn those pirates,” Juskin said softly.
The secretary returned and thumped a large sheath of papers down onto the table. Thacker moved his chair closer, put down his wine, and looked at the first sheet. “Let’s see what we can see.”
After a moment of hesitation, Rawk pulled out his spectacles.
-O-
“What in Path’s name am I doing?” Rawk held up two fingers in the symbol of the Great Path because he figured he would need all the help he could get. Crouching into the shadows near the mouth of the alley he couldn’t see anything all that interesting, but that was sure to change quickly enough. The Quod was across the other side of the road but all he could see of it was a tall stone wall that looked like it was going to be staying there all night. He ducked back a moment later when a man walked along the top.
“Are you ready, Rawk?”
“Of course I’m not ready, Rake,” he muttered. “That would be impossible.”
Rake nodded. “Well, ready or not...” He looked at the dwarves and men clustered in the alley behind him. There were two dwarvish warriors. “Gunnar? Crisp?”
The dwarves nodded. But they were already focusing on the task as hand. Rawk knew he should be too, but it was hard. He was sneaking into prison to release a sorcerer.
“Kristun?” The engineer gave a nod. He looked calmer than everyone else.
And there were also five laborers. “Hobart? Are your boys ready?”
Hobart was a dwarf with a long beard tucked into the collar of his shirt and a crowbar tucked into his belt. He looked like he should be at home with his feet up in front of a fire and a grandchild on his knee. He ignored the question and asked one of his own. “Can you see the spot?”
Rawk examined the wall and couldn’t see anything. But that wasn’t his job, so that didn’t matter. As long at the dwarves knew what was going on. Even Rake could see the spot. Rawk sighed and looked at the last two members of their party. Fabi and Frew looked like he felt. Weaver was one of them. He had taken a pirate haven and turned it into one of the greatest cities in the world. It felt wrong to be crossing him like this, even if he had become the man he now was.
They waited some more. Rawk could feel dawn
approaching like a mounted charge. He felt it would arrive at any moment and just wanted to get on with the mission. No, he just wanted to be at home with his feet up. He took a deep breath and pulled on his mask. The others covered their faces as well, with masks and visors and even a scrap of cloth tied in place.
“Here we go,” said Rake. He shifted his grip on his sword.
For a moment, Rawk couldn’t hear anything. Then he heard the drums and the shouts and watched as the guard on the wall heard them too. There was a riot in the square on the far side of the Quod. It wasn’t a big square, but it wasn’t a big riot either and wouldn’t last long. The guards ran along the ramparts, heading for the action, and a minute later Rawk was standing at the base of the wall, sword in hand, trying to see what it was that the dwarves could see. Maybe there was a section of the wall that looked a bit newer than the rest, a bit rougher, but it was hard to tell. The dwarves were sure though, apparently. They had a battering ram, small enough to be held by just four of them, and they set to work, pounding in time to the beat of the drums.
Rawk watched as the mortar between the bricks started to crack, then he could see a staggered, door-sized outline appearing. “Well, what do you know.”
Rake smiled as he watched his companions work.
“It was filled in twenty years ago,” Hobart said. “They needed more storage and less guards.”
“I imagine Weaver didn’t want to pay them.”
“I imagine so.”
Two more thumps against the stone and the battering ram crew stepped back. Hobart stepped forward and examined their handiwork. He ran his fingers over the bricks then set to with his crowbar. He worked at the first block for a long time, but when it finally slid free and was lowered carefully to the ground the next ones followed in a rush. And a minute later, there was a hole large enough for Rawk to climb through. He took that as an invitation.
Inside, Rawk paused to take a deep breath. He adjusted his mask and looked around. The only light was coming in through the hole they had created and the moonlight did nothing more than silver the dust they had stirred into motion. Rake lit a torch and the flames caught and gathered.
An Army of Heroes Page 14