Part 29 (2/2)

”Don't lie. DON'T LIE TO ME!” Ivy seethed. Deep inside she knew that Trigorah could not have been responsible. Nevertheless, her emotions, denied fear as an outlet, sought anger in its place. She turned away, scolding herself. ”Not here.”

Her teeth clenched, the wooden box she held creaked in her grip. Ivy struggled to master her emotions. The last thing she wanted was to change here, in a city. Very slowly the red aura began to fade. Trigorah watched cautiously. At first she had doubted the descriptions of the power that Ivy wielded. Their nature and intensity seemed unlikely, impossible. Now, though, she began to reconsider. She was no wizard, but it didn't take a mystic to know that the raw energy she had felt, and the speed at which it was summoned forth, was not the sort of thing to be taken lightly. Against her best instincts, she returned her sword to its sheath. Now was not a time to appear to be a threat.

”Ivy, look at me. I am not here to hurt you, and I did not hurt your friends,” Trigorah said, holding up her empty hands.

Ivy's narrowed eyes seemed to stare straight through Trigorah.

”If you didn't then who did? And why was Lain running from you?” she asked, the anger fading but still strong, and mixed with a healthy dose of suspicion.

”Those questions are not mine to answer,” Trigorah replied.

”Don't tell me that! You ARE one of them! You can't just leave me be! You-” Ivy began to rant.

”Listen!” Trigorah's ordered.

Again Ivy froze. Trigorah's voice had the quality of a scolding parent. The forcefulness and authority broke through the emotions. Seizing the opportunity, Trigorah continued.

”I am not the only one seeking you. In fact, I believe that in pursuing you I have made myself a target. We cannot squander our time here, screaming at one another. Let me take you someplace away from prying eyes and curious ears. Once we have the benefit of doors and locks, this battle of wills can continue. Until then I want you to stay quiet, stay calm, and stay out of sight! Understood!” the general commanded.

Ivy nodded slowly. Any trace of anger was swept away. She felt compelled to comply, not in the unnatural way that Demont had willed upon her, but out of a sort of sudden respect, almost grat.i.tude. It was as though the role of guiding hand that had been left vacant by Lain had, for now, been replaced. And there was something else. There was an air of . . . belonging. As though Trigorah was a piece to a puzzle that had long been incomplete. Something felt right about her leaders.h.i.+p. Ivy crouched down into the darkness.

Trigorah pulled her hood up and made her way quickly toward the street. She'd taken an enormous chance speaking to the unstable creature as she did. Good fortune seldom smiled upon her for long. Carefully, she took up a position on the city street, the opening to the alleyway that hid her prize within sight. If memory served, there was a rather large and quite well staffed inn that would be able to accommodate her. An elderly man was pa.s.sing by. Trigorah flagged him down. There was no need to ask the man if he was a veteran. He bore the scars and limp of a man who had fought until the military had no more use for him.

”You there, soldier,” she called.

He turned and approached her.

”No one has called me that for some time, m' lady,” he replied.

”Once in the service of this great land, always. I have a task for you,” she said.

His eyes widened as he saw her face.

”You are the General. General Teloran. I am honored beyond words that you would speak to me,” he gushed. ”In my younger days I was considered for service in your great Elite! That was before the Tresson swine ruined my leg. I want you to know that not a night goes by that I do not curse the name of that Undermine captain who took so many of them from you.”

Trigorah raised a finger to halt the torrent of adoration.

”Noted and appreciated, soldier, but there is a matter of grave military importance that requires speed, tact, and above all, discretion. Do you know the inn a few streets away?” she asked.

”Palin's House of Ale?” he asked.

”Precisely the one,” she replied. ”I will be transporting a prisoner there for questioning momentarily. Go now and see to it that a suitable room is ready for me when I arrive. A stout door, locks on the inside, and no windows. We shall arrive by the back door. The way to the room should be free of prying eyes.”

”It is an honor to serve the crown once more, General,” he replied, turning and heading off as quickly as his infirm legs would allow.

Trigorah made her way swiftly back to the alley. The creature was standing in the shadows. The lack of the unnatural aura about her proved that she was mercifully still calm.

”When I say so, we are going to cross the road into the opposite ally quickly and quietly. Then I will lead you to a door and into a room inside. You will be silent until I say you can speak,” Trigorah instructed.

Ivy nodded. As Trigorah waited tensely for the old man to make the preparations, she watched Ivy closely. The creature was s.h.i.+fting uneasily from foot to foot, her eyes locked on the alley across the way. The box she held was hugged close to her chest. A few more moments pa.s.sed.

”Why are we waiting?” Ivy whispered.

”Just wait. If we move too soon the way won't be clear,” Trigorah said.

Ivy nodded. Trigorah judged that the time was right.

”Now,” she ordered.

”Not yet. Wait,” Ivy said, her voice hushed.

”I said-” Trigorah began scold.

Ivy ignored her, stepping further into the shadows. A moment later Trigorah heard the crunching footsteps Ivy's sensitive ears had. She too ducked back further. A large, shabbily dressed man lumbered by, dragging a crystal tipped halberd. He paused briefly in front of the alleyway.

”I know him,” Ivy breathed almost silently. There was a s.h.i.+ver in her voice and a wisp of blue light.

”Steady,” Trigorah warned.

The lumbering figure continued. Trigorah watched as he vanished from sight. Epidime. Fortune had run out sooner that she would have liked. Suddenly there was a motion beside her. Ivy bolted. Rather that call after her with an order that would certainly be ignored and likely draw Epidime's attention, she held her breath and prayed that she had learned some of Lain's accursed stealth. As she watched, she saw movements that could scarcely have been learned. Long graceful steps, planting surely despite the icy stone. Soon she was deep in the far alley, gone from sight. Hiding.

Trigorah edged closer to the opening of the alley. Epidime was a fair distance away, and moving further. Stepping lightly, she too made her way across. It turned her stomach not to face him and proclaim her victorious capture of Ivy, but the creature was anything but securely in her grasp at the moment. If she could milk just a drop of information out of her, not only Ivy but the other Chosen could be her prize. The other Generals would have no recourse but to allow her to take her rightful place at the front lines then. Even Bagu would have to relent after having the renegade warriors delivered directly to him.

”Did I do good?” Ivy asked eagerly.

Trigorah shrugged off the odd reaction of the creature and silently led on. The tavern was just a short way ahead, if she remembered correctly. As she walked, she began to gather her questions to mind, readying her techniques. Her instinct screamed warnings about the sudden compliance, even devotion her prisoner was showing. It warned about Epidime and what treachery he may have in store. Nothing could be done for now to deal with such concerns. They were noted and brushed aside. The sound of boisterous laughter and loud conversation heralded the approach of the only building in this part of town that didn't seem deserted or rundown. She stepped up to a st.u.r.dy wooden door and gave it a push. Sure enough, it was not latched.

The pair stepped in quietly, closing and latching the door behind them. Inside, the heady aroma of spilled ale and roasting meat momentarily distracted Ivy. Her eyes lingered on the door at the far end of the long, dim hallway. She longed to be on the other side. Badly she wanted to taste and smell and hear and see what was behind that door. A firm hand on her shoulder snapped her back to attention. There was one door open. It led to a large but virtually empty room. The place was nearly the size of a small banquet hall, but there was but a table and a pair of chairs to be found inside. They slipped in.

Trigorah drew the bolt on the door and tested its strength before turning to Ivy. The malthrope was already seated, placing her box carefully on the ground before folding her hands and smiling like an overachieving student. The General tried to work out what possible reason the creature might have for the complete reversal of trust. Before her escape, they were in the process of re-educating her. Demont had claimed that the process was not complete, but that a few safeguards had been put in place. Perhaps this was one of them reaching the surface. Regardless, best to take advantage while it lasted.

”Now, where are the others?” Trigorah asked.

”I . . . I was afraid they died, but you saw it happen, and you still want to know where they are, so I guess they are still alive. I don't know where. Do you know what happened to them?” Ivy asked. As she spoke her nervousness melted away completely, as though she felt she was speaking to a friend.

”It is my belief that they and several others I fought were decoys,” Trigorah said.

”Yes. Yes! Ether made a bunch of decoys. She said that she was the real one and that I should follow her . . . she was lying,” Ivy said, her voice intensifying.

”Never mind that. Where were you heading before you split off. Why were you in Verneste?” Trigorah asked quickly, hoping to sidestep the angry realization that she had been betrayed.

”Um . . . Well, his sword broke . . . I broke it, I think. We were heading south. Lain wanted me to be safe, so he was taking me there, but he needed to get his sword fixed before we went to Tressor,” Ivy said.

”So Lain is in league with the Tressons,” Trigorah said. It was a suspicion she had long held, and one that fueled much of her disdain for him.

”Well, he has friends down there. They owe him favors I think,” she said.

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