Part 2 (1/2)
”You never said anything.” Parno's eyes held hers for a moment longer before falling to where his fingers were clamped around his own steaming cup.
”I waited for you to speak, and the word spoken was Imrion.”
”I never meant . . .” Parno heaved a deep breath. ”It's only that I began to wonder what became of my Household and I . . .”
”Spoke to me of Imrion.” Dhulyn leaned back in her chair, nodding. Of course, she thought. Time had softened whatever had made him leave his House and become a Mercenary Brother. But to tell her so, to ask her openly to return with him to learn what had become of his past-she smiled, a twisting of her lips. How could he ask this of her, who had no past to return to?
”This business of the Marked changes all of that.” Parno took a deep breath and released it slowly, pus.h.i.+ng his cup to one side. ”Very well, I admit that I've wondered about my House, my father . . . but going there endangers you you. If the Catseye Catseye is gone, then we'll take another s.h.i.+p.” is gone, then we'll take another s.h.i.+p.”
”Do you hear yourself?” Dhulyn leaned forward, though her voice was already too low to be heard beyond their table. ”You actually counsel the safe and the secure to a Mercenary Brother-to me me? What next? I should open a book shop and die in my bed? We're Mercenary Brothers Mercenary Brothers. One day we'll make a mistake, and someone or something will kill us. This is our truth.”
”It's everyone's truth,” Parno began.
”But we know it, and we don't run away.” Dhulyn licked her lips. ”We don't run away.”
”In Battle,” Parno said.
”Or in Death,” she answered.
”Hot stones will be ready in a minute,” Linkon said.
Parno turned. ”Sorry about the mess,” he said, jerking his head at the girl moving toward them with her broom and dustpan full of what had been two plates and a pottery mug.
”Not your fault, Lionsmane,” Linkon said. ”Though I'll have to replace them, and with no Menders the blasted potters are charging an arm and a leg. But not to worry, I took the price out of the man your Partner threw out the door. He should have taken no for an answer. If you didn't want to work for him, you didn't want to work for him. And I don't blame you, if he was lying about the job.”
”Wolfshead's good at spotting liars,” Parno said, ”though your house cat would have known the fool was lying, come to that. Normally she's more forgiving. His bad luck he pushed it a little too far at the wrong time, if you catch my meaning.”
”Oh, I catch it all right. My wife's the same, though not much capable of throwing me out the door, for which I thank the Caids.” The man grinned.
Parno grinned back and didn't bother to correct the man. Dhulyn wasn't his wife, but there were few people outside of the Brotherhood-and even some within-who understood what it meant to be Partnered.
”Though I can't say I'm surprised the man persisted,” Linkon continued, as he laid out mugs on the bar ready for spiced cider when it came hot from the kitchen. ”There's not so many Mercenaries in Navra at the moment, and for that reason, a word in your ear.”
Parno obliged the man by leaning both elbows on the bar, bringing his face within inches of the landlord's. He'd once spent almost a whole winter at the inn, and had developed a friends.h.i.+p with Linkon Grey that even the pa.s.sage of years did not change.
”Two of the Watch were in here last night, looking for a couple of Mercenary Brothers who'd helped some Finders yesterday.”
A chill traveled up Parno's spine. Not Linkon, too. ”People had set fire to a house with children inside it.”
Two red spots appeared on Linkon's pale cheeks. ”Don't misunderstand me, Lionsmane, you did the right thing, though I wouldn't say that to any and everyone.”
”Will this bring you trouble?”
”I was able to tell them, truthfully, that I'd not seen you-it was only your baggage was here all night. But they'll be back. It may take a few days, most of the Watch is none too eager to jump to the Jaldeans' orders, but like it or not, they'll have to come around again, sooner rather than later. And then . . .” Linkon Grey pursed his lips and raised his brows.
”Oh, come, Link! We're Mercenary Brothers, what can they do to us?”
Linkon shrugged, turned away to accept a cider jug from the kitchen boy, and turned back to pour out mugs for himself and Parno. He waited until the boy used a second jug to fill a tray of mugs and carry them off to distribute among the tables before leaning forward again.
”I don't know, and I don't want to know. It wasn't so long ago the Marked were saying the same thing.” He frowned, brows pulled down, before meeting Parno's eyes once more. ”I like the Brotherhood. It's always good to have some of you in the place. It brings custom and it keeps order, all at the same time. But it's my family as well as my business I've got to consider.”
”I'll get Dhulyn-”
”Nah, man, you've a day at least-more like two. As I said, the Watch will be in no hurry, so long as you draw no more attention to yourselves. But you'd be doing me a favor if you accept the next offer that'll take you out of the city.”
Parno looked around, saw that there was no one close to them. ”When did this business with the Marked start? The Wolfshead and I came almost without stopping from Destila,” he added, naming the city at the far end of the Midland Sea. ”Only changing s.h.i.+ps at the Isle of Cabrea. The last time we were on the Peninsula, the Jaldeans were no more than harmless old priests.”
Linkon looked into the depths of his cup. ”You've been away to the west, you say, Lionsmane, but you're from Imrion yourself, eh?”
”You know better than that, Linkon. We're Mercenary Brothers, the Wolfshead and I, and that's that's where we're from.” where we're from.”
The innkeeper nodded, tongue flicking out to the corners of his mouth. ”Still. If it were anyone else . . .” He shrugged.
”The trouble wasn't started by the old priests you remember, asking for alms at the shrines of the Sleeping G.o.d. It's the New Believers who are preaching against the Marked.”
”Any oppose them?”
”They say the Tarkin himself,” Linkon answered, ”but there's a limit to what he can do.”
”What's he like, this new Tarkin? When Wolfshead and I fought with Imrion when they took the field against the Dureans at Arcosa, the old man was still alive.”
”They say the son's not the warrior his father was, but he's no fool either. The High n.o.ble Houses acclaimed him when old Nyl-aLyn died, and that says something.” Linkon gave a sharp nod. ”Still, in this new matter only a few of the n.o.ble Houses have declared themselves one way or the other. It's all the Tarkin can do to prevent an open breach between those as support the New Believers and those who would just as soon let be. The New Believers're saying the Tarkin doesn't see the danger-”
Linkon broke off as his younger daughter came out of the kitchen doorway with a tray of pies.
”Danger? From the From the Marked? Marked?” Parno cut in as soon as the girl was out of earshot. ”How dangerous can they be? There's not three in two hundred who are Marked.”
”How many does there need to be to awaken the Sleeping G.o.d?” Linkon had lowered his voice still further. ”I'll tell you straight, since it's you I speak to, Lionsmane, no good can come of any persecution of the Marked. It's madness, pure and simple. But the whole of the West country was flooded last spring, an earthquake leveled Petchera in the summer-and there's rumors the Cloud People are looking to break their treaty. Imrion's luck has turned bad, you mark my words.”
Parno laughed to cover the chill that had come over him, raising the hairs on his arms. ”Why, Linkon, we're Mercenary Brothers looking for work. Imrion sounds like just the place for us.”
”Well, you know your own business best, but mark my words-”
A noise from the kitchen doorway made him turn again. ”Ah, here's the warmed stones for your Partner now.”
Parno accepted the stones, heat palpable through their heavy coverings, smiling his thanks to the kitchen boy. He gave Linkon a we'll-talk-later nod and made his way between the tables to the staircase.
”Gotterang,” Dhulyn said, spitting out the word between gasps. ”Gotterang.” Her left hand lashed out, and closed on the air where Parno's wrist had just been.
”I know, Dhulyn, I know,” he said, using his voice to soothe where his hands could not. He shoved in the warm stone, lowered the blanket, tucked the edges under the pallet and sat back on his heels. He covered his Partner with the other blankets and both their heavy winter cloaks before raising himself to his feet, movements cautious and slow, and stepping back from the edge of the bed. He went only as far as the doorframe, where he leaned, listening. Eventually Dhulyn's breaths came slower, took longer, as the valerian mixture he'd put into her cider took effect.
This would make twice she'd Seen Imrion's capital. While that didn't necessarily necessarily make her Vision more likely to come about-still it made him think. make her Vision more likely to come about-still it made him think.