Part 24 (1/2)
”This changes things,” Din-eDin said. ”We can't let anyone past us now.”
”That's not all,” Hernyn said. ”We've more to worry about as well.”
The man glanced from the corner of his eye. ”Explain.”
Hernyn nodded at Ennick's body. ”It looks like there's worse than death might come to us. Did you see how his eyes were glowing green? That wasn't just Ennick, not at first anyway.”
The other man tapped the dagger he had at his waist. ”We'll have to be sure, then, won't we?” His eyes narrowed. ”Can we warn the others?”
But then they finally heard the sounds they'd been waiting for, rus.h.i.+ng feet, jingling harness. Men who weren't taking the trouble to be quiet. Din-eDin stepped in front of Hernyn. Hernyn was about to say something when he realized the man was right for once. Older, injured, and not a Mercenary. Three reasons to put him in front.
”Here they come,” Hernyn called back over his shoulder, hoping the amplification of sound in the service corridor worked both ways. Before picking up his second sword, he checked that he had a dagger in each boot, and that the one strapped to his left arm wouldn't stick in the sheath. He stood squarely in the pa.s.sage with the Guard Captain in front of him, facing the opening to the Onyx Walk, and lightly tapped the walls with his swords, fixing the s.p.a.ce well in his mind.
He would rather have died with his Brothers, but if he could die for for them, well, that would be enough. them, well, that would be enough.
”Should we wait?” Parno asked.
One of the many cords that bound her hair must have broken, for a fine blood-red braid fell over Dhulyn's forehead with the minute shaking of her head. She pushed it back.
”We told Din-eDin we would close the pa.s.sage,” she said.
Maybe if she ignored it, the yelling would stop and she could go back to sleep. They'd spent more than half of the night hiding in a crawl s.p.a.ce Gundaron had found, under a surprisingly intact floor of thick oak planks, but they hadn't had much sleep. Trying to get comfortable on ground made uneven by loose foundation rocks and ancient garbage, with nerves stretched to the snapping point by the drizzly rain and the knowledge that they were being accused of having a hand in the Fall of Tenebro House, would have been difficult enough. As it was, the night had been marred by the noises of screams and running. A fire had broken out in the Old Market itself, and it had been close to dawn by the time she and Gundaron had been able to fall into sleep.
”Mar!” A hand shook her shoulder.
She cracked open one eye. From the look of the light that slanted down through the breaks in the old floorboards above them, the sun was well up.
”Did you hear what he said?” Gundaron shook her shoulder again. ”Mar, did you hear?”
Without waiting for her answer, Gun crawled out of their hidey-hole. Still blinking sleep from her eyes, Mar followed, afraid to lose sight of him. Lionsmane and Wolfshead had been teaching her to navigate out on the trail, but in Gotterang she felt it would be all too easy to get completely lost.
Mar had a moment of panic when she didn't see Gun right away, but then she remembered he no longer wore his Scholar's tunic and, looking for the gray-brown of homespun rather than the bright blue of the Libraries, she spotted him. Gun stood on the fringes of a group gathered around a thickset man in breeches, boots, and a full-sleeved s.h.i.+rt who must have been standing on a broken bit of wall, as he was head and shoulders above the crowd. She blinked at him, holding up her hand to s.h.i.+eld her eyes. Ran the taproom down by the fountain, she thought. That's where she knew him from. She'd bought food from there last night.
”Imrion's Fallen, I'm telling you that's certain, they're crying it in the Great Square. Lok-iKol Tenebro is Tarkin by acclamation.”
The taproom keeper had plenty more to say, but Mar had stopped listening. She tugged Gun by the sleeve.
”Gundaron,” she whispered, tugging again until he turned to look at her.
For a moment the sight of her face stopped Gundaron's breath. A wisp of hair had fallen out of her head scarf and swayed over her right cheek. In the vivid depths of her blue eyes, her pupils shrank to pinpoints as she blinked in the morning sun.
”Is this this what I helped him do,” she said. ”Bringing him Wolfshead and Lionsmane? He wanted to be Tarkin? That's what this is all about?” what I helped him do,” she said. ”Bringing him Wolfshead and Lionsmane? He wanted to be Tarkin? That's what this is all about?”
His thoughts spinning, Gun followed Mar back into their hiding place. She was right, wasn't she? Lok-iKol was Tarkin. The things that he had done, the people he had harmed, all that research, research, not for scholars.h.i.+p-Gun's stomach turned at the thought of his own naivete-but to put Lok-iKol on the Carnelian Throne. not for scholars.h.i.+p-Gun's stomach turned at the thought of his own naivete-but to put Lok-iKol on the Carnelian Throne.
Mar was still waiting for an answer. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. ”There must be more to it than that.” He blinked, eyes narrowing as he followed the pattern of his thoughts to its logical conclusion. ”The Carnelian Throne's what Lok-iKol wanted-but not what the Jaldeans Jaldeans want.” want.”
”But if the New Believers want the Tarkin's full backing . . .”
Gun realized he was shaking his head. ”But what they're saying about the Marked and the Sleeping G.o.d-that the G.o.d should stay asleep and the Marked are trying to wake him-none of that is true.”
”I never thought it was, but-”
”No, no. I mean they don't believe it themselves, at least, not the ones in charge, not Beslyn-Tor. There's something else going on.” Gun hoped Mar wouldn't ask how he knew-in fact, he was afraid to examine the knowledge too closely, afraid that it might be yet another thing the Green Shadow had helped him forget.
”If the Jaldeans have some other trouble in mind,” Mar was saying, ”we have to tell someone.”
Gun nodded. ”Who?”
”Come on,” Mar said, swinging her pack up on to her shoulder.
”Where?” Gun drew himself straight and formed his hands into fists when they wouldn't stop trembling.
”Mercenary House.”
”Something up ahead,” he said to Dhulyn's back. She She was just enough shorter, he'd noticed with disgust, to walk upright through most of the pa.s.sages. was just enough shorter, he'd noticed with disgust, to walk upright through most of the pa.s.sages.
”Lamplight, not torches,” she whispered back to him. ”Alkoryn's not stopping.”
Which meant the old man expected to find lights ahead of him, which meant there was nothing for the two of them to worry about. Except whether he'd ever be able to stand upright again, Parno thought.
Exhausted as they all were from close to two hours of walking from one sealed entrance to another, everyone managed a short burst of speed once it became clear there was something besides more tunnel ahead of them. When Parno finally followed them all into the lamplit room, however, he saw that they were still underground, although in a chamber large enough-with a ceiling high enough, he found, straightening gratefully-to accommodate all of them easily.
The Tarkin led his wife and children immediately to the nearest beds, making sure they were seated comfortably before leaving them in the hands of the nurse Den.o.bea and joining Dhulyn, who had stepped around them and the guards to stand beside Alkoryn. Head lowered and tilted to one side, she listened to his whispered orders, nodding, though at one point her face went completely blank.
Something she doesn't like there, Parno thought, maintaining his position as rear guard just inside the entrance to the chamber. With his eyes still on his Partner, he arched his back and raised his hands over his head, willing his abused muscles to stretch out. Parno thought, maintaining his position as rear guard just inside the entrance to the chamber. With his eyes still on his Partner, he arched his back and raised his hands over his head, willing his abused muscles to stretch out.
”Lord Tarkin,” Dhulyn said, her voice pitched to carry to everyone in the chamber. ”My Brother Alkoryn Pantherclaw suggests that you rest here in comfort while he and I continue to the surface. There is fuel, food, and drink. We will return or send for you as soon as we are able.”
”Why must we wait?” The Tarkin, Parno was impressed to see, was not arguing, but simply asking the question.
”It's very likely Lok-iKol will want Mercenary House searched,” Dhulyn said. ”This chamber can be closed off and hidden, so you'll be perfectly safe here. If it comes to the worst,” Dhulyn added, ”my presence in the House is natural. Yours, Lord Tarkin, could not be explained. My Brother Parno Lionsmane will remain here with you.”
Parno met Dhulyn's eyes over the heads of the Tarkina and her children. That's what made her face change, That's what made her face change, he thought. he thought. Is it the thought of separation she doesn't like, or the idea of leaving me here with my cousin, the Tarkin? Is it the thought of separation she doesn't like, or the idea of leaving me here with my cousin, the Tarkin?
She smiled at him, lifting her shoulder in the slightest of shrugs.