Part 24 (1/2)

”Astel,” I said tersely, ”I don't think you know what the truth is anymore.”

”And you think you do?”

”No. I just don't care what it is.”

We walked the rest of the way in silence.

Entipy, standing behind the table, looked at me with open curiosity as I hustled toward her. ”We've leaving,” I said as soon as I got within whispering range.

”But the party is still going. We won't be paid our-”

”Devil take the sovs. We're going. Now.”

I realized that her eyes were wandering toward the front of my breeches. I looked down and saw what she was looking at. There was a bulge there, more noticeable than I would have liked. She looked up at me, her face a question.

”Jewels,” I said in a low voice.

”Family?”

”No. Real.” I glanced around, made sure no one else was watching, and then s.h.i.+fted them around so that the ”package” was less obvious.

Then she comprehended, and with conspiratorial shock she whispered, ”You stole stole them?” them?”

”No. Extorted. Let's go.”

She didn't understand, but she didn't have to. The party was still going in full swing and as a result our hurried departure drew no attention. I was walking as carefully as I could, trying not to jingle or send anything else out of position, considering I had jewelry and money secreted all over my person, and in the hidden compartment of my staff.

The sounds of the party receded into the distance as we made our way toward the servants' exit. Down a curling flight of stairs that seemed to take forever to navigate, down, and then toward the door that would put us out into the night and freedom. It was at the end of a long hallway that felt as if it was a hundred leagues away. I had never felt so frustrated over my lame right leg as I did at that moment, since I was in such a hurry to just put as much distance between us and the castle as possible. To hurry out of there before someone could shout . . .

”You!”

I recognized the voice instantly as the steward, summoning us from behind. We were ten feet from the door, from freedom, and before I could turn I heard the steward continue, ”There he is, milord! Apparently he's trying to sneak out.”

”Servant!” came a gravelly voice, and I knew at that moment that we were dead, because it was Shank's voice. Entipy sucked in her breath sharply; she likewise knew that matters had taken a decided turn for the worse. I had been trying to reposition the bag of jewels that were among the riches the unwilling Astel had provided for me; they'd been slipping again in our hasty departure. But it didn't seem to matter now. I gripped my staff with both hands because I felt as if I was going to faint.

Close in my ear, Entipy whispered, ”Should we run for it?”

”Why bother?” I returned. True, there was a remote chance we would make it out the door. But it wasn't as if there was an invisible barrier that would prevent Shank from following us the additional three or four feet we might manage to put between ourselves and the castle. Better to surrender now with what little dignity remained to us . . . especially considering that any claims to dignity I might have had would soon be lost in screams of agony as Shank did . . . well, whatever he was going to do.

”Where are you off to in such a hurry?” demanded Shank.

Slowly I turned to face him. Even at this moment of utter doom, I couldn't help but try to stammer out a lie. ”Milord, I . . . my . . . partner here,” and I indicated Entipy, ”has need of a . . . uhm . . .”

Shank looked below my waist and grinned, and then laughed. ”Hah!” he said. ”I see what she has need of . . . and you appear only too eager to provide it. Go and argue with the l.u.s.ts of youth, eh, steward?” And he clapped the steward on the back. The steward staggered slightly, but righted himself and nodded gamely. Then the dreaded Warlord Shank turned back to me and reached into the folds of his tunic. For a moment I was certain that this was it-that he had finished with games and was about to pull out a dagger and simply slice my throat. Instead he pulled out a glittering coin: a duke. ”I realize I am remiss in not having given you a gratuity for aiding my wife. Here.” And he flipped it to me. I caught it and stared at the coin, astounded, resting in my open palm. The face of the warlord scowled back at me from the coin's surface. ”They are newly minted,” he said. ”You are one of the first to have one. See the reverse.” I obediently turned the coin over. Astel's face smiled back at me.

”Once upon a time,” he growled, ”I would not have cared about such niceties. But if I am to husband a countess, one must observe certain social . . . traditions.”

”As you say, milord.” I could barely keep the astonishment from my voice.

”Steward? Have they been paid for this evening?”

”N-no, milord, but it is not customary to pay those who have not worked the full evening . . .”

Without a word the warlord yanked his sword from his scabbard and lopped the steward's head off. It rolled across the floor and b.u.mped to a halt against the wall before the body had time to realize it was headless and flop, obediently, to the ground. Entipy and I stood rooted to our places.

”I despise excuses,” said Shank. He pulled out a second duke and tossed that to me as well. ”This will attend to it, I take it?”

”More than, milord.”

”Smile, young ones!” bellowed Shank, and I realized at that point that he was more than a little inebriated. ”Smile on an evening of rejoicing! And know that you have been honored by providing service to the future wife of the dreaded Warlord Shank.”

”Milord,” I said extravagantly, ”believe me when I say . . . that I took no greater joy in this life than when I was servicing your bride-to-be.”

And we got the h.e.l.l out of there.

Chapter 20.

Considering the circ.u.mstances under which we'd come there, I was surprised to realize that Marie was actually sad to see us go.

I was somewhat concerned over the fact that-even though the calendar indicated that the fierce Outer Lawless winter should be subsiding-it still seemed unseasonably cold and nasty. Nevertheless, the roads were merely inhospitable rather than impa.s.sable, and my every instinct was telling me that now was the time to get on our way. As successful as I had been in obtaining an impressive bounty from Astel, I did not want to count on the notion that I was impervious to retribution. On the one hand, she might not want to take any chances mucking with me, since she had no idea how deep into her inner circles my ”agents” ran, or even whether I was indeed backed up by the G.o.ds themselves. On the other hand, she might sooner or later get up enough nerve to hire someone privately to dispatch me. Make it look like an accident or some such. It all depended upon how comfortable she was with the fact that I was wandering around with full knowledge of who and what she was.

So it seemed inc.u.mbent upon me that we vacate the area sooner rather than later.

Naturally I didn't trust anyone in the area, but of all the people I didn't trust, the burly Marie was the one that I didn't trust the least. I felt it would be better to have someone act as an intermediary if at all possible, and so I prevailed upon her to arrange for the purchase of two Heffers for us. Heffers were fairly useless for traveling off the beaten path, but it was my intention to try and stay with the roads, and there they would do just fine. It was a calculated risk, of course. Staying to the main roads might make us prey for highwaymen. But endeavoring to penetrate the woods would make us prey for all manner of predators, and-all things considered-I'd rather take my chances with human thieves.

Marie openly scoffed at the notion of purchasing two Heffers outright until I presented her with enough funds not only to obtain the animals, but also to leave something for herself to cover her efforts. When she demanded to know how such riches had fallen into our hands, I simply smiled enigmatically and said, ”The Warlord and his bride-to-be were most pleased with our efforts.” She seemed interested in inquiring further, but decided to let the matter drop.

So it was that, early one morning, with no clouds in the sky, the sun creeping up in the east, and a sharp nip in the air, we set out on the main road that would lead us to the commweaver known as Dotty.

”Wait,” I said. ”How will we know Dotty's home when we get there?”

”Oh, believe me,” she laughed, ”you'll know it a'right. It's a bit . . . unusual-looking.” She wouldn't say anything beyond that, though.

Marie saw us off, and as we prepared to ride away, her gaze took us both in as she said, ”I know for a time there I was hard on ye. But I think you're both the better for it . . . especially you,” and she pointed her stubbly chin toward Entipy. Entipy shrugged slightly, which for her pa.s.sed as conversation. ”You make a good couple,” she added.

”Do we?” I inquired, inwardly amused.

”I see it in the way ye look at each other. Antic.i.p.ate each other's thoughts and words. A good couple and a good team. Good luck to the both of ye.”

Then she drew her wrap more tightly around herself, turned, and headed back into the inn. Entipy and I looked at each other . . . and laughed.

It was the first time we'd actually shared such a thing, a laugh. It felt . . . surprisingly natural.

We headed off down the road, keeping the Heffers at a brisk trot. We didn't exchange any words, but somehow the ensuing silence felt different from such previous instances. It was not an uncomfortable or angry silence such as we had known before, but instead a comfortable one. As if we had become so at ease in each other's company that there was no need to try and fill the void with useless verbiage.

The ride to the commweaver's home was pleasantly incident free, and I could only hope that it was a good augury for things that were to come. As the Heffers trotted along, I kept dwelling upon what Marie had said, and her apparent confidence that we would know when we had arrived at the weaver's home. Well, when she's right, she's right, because about midday we turned a corner in the road and I knew, beyond question, that we had come within range of the commweaver's house.