Part 23 (2/2)
Cale nodded and said nothing more. They walked the rest of the way to the stables in silence.
The grooms had saddled twelve geldings, all of them stout steeds thirteen hands or more in height. Three pack horses loaded with gear stood with their heads lowered. Ren and nine other members of the Uskevren house guard were loading equipment onto their geldings. All wore chain s.h.i.+rts, helmets, and serious looks. Each bore a blade, a crossbow, and a s.h.i.+eld enameled with the Uskevren crest. Their livery, too, featured the Uskevren horse at anchor. They spoke congenially to their mounts as they checked tack, harness, stirrup, and saddle.
”My lord,” all of them nodded to Tamlin in greeting. ”Mister Cale.”
”Men,” Tamlin answered.
Ren nodded a greeting at Cale as he stuffed a bedroll into his saddlebag.
The head groom, a tall, thin man with tanned arms and dark hair, moved from man to man, fretting. ”I a.s.sure you that all is in order with the tack.” His annoyed tone made clear that he took extreme pride in his meticulous work, and that the house guards' efforts came as a personal affront.
The men smiled, nodded, and ignored him, adjusting straps and buckles as they saw fit.
A boy held Cale's and Tamlin's mounts by their bits. Cale eyed the horses with apprehension. He had never been a skilled horseman, and riding with only one hand would make it worse. Tamlin noticed his nervousness and smiled smugly.
”Vos is an easy ride, Mister Cale,” said the groomsman.
”Very easy, goodsir,” said the scrawny boy in an overlarge s.h.i.+rt who held the horse.
”Vos,” Cale said, and chuckled. Vos Vos was a word from the Dwarvish tongue. It meant ”wild” or ”unruly,” and was usually used to describe a dwarven beer fest. Probably the groom had no idea of its etymology. was a word from the Dwarvish tongue. It meant ”wild” or ”unruly,” and was usually used to describe a dwarven beer fest. Probably the groom had no idea of its etymology.
”You will be keeping to the roads the whole time,” the groom said. ”An easy ride.”
Cale found small comfort in the fact, but mounted up without embarra.s.sing himself.
Tamlin loaded his gear into his mount's saddlebags and fairly leaped atop his horse. Unlike Cale, Tamlin was an experienced rider. ”Ordulin is seven days' ride,” he called to the group. ”Let's get started. Is all ready, Ren?”
Ren looked to his men, who nodded. ”All's ready, my lord.”
The house guards mounted up and took station around Cale and Tamlin. Cale smiled at his awkwardness in the saddle. He had climbed eight-story buildings barehanded, but felt uncomfortable perched atop the horse. He did his best to settle in as the group started out.
When they reached Rauncel's Ride, Cale immediately noticed fewer Helms on the street. Before he could ask, Tamlin said, ”I reconsidered my course, Mister Cale. At least on the matter of the Helms. A few squads remain in the n.o.ble District, but I stationed the rest at the city gates. They will no longer patrol the streets, but they will be available to Vees and the Old Chauncel should they be needed.”
Cale looked Tamlin in the face. ”Wisely done, my lord.”
Tamlin nodded grudgingly. ”The temples responded to my suggestion as you suspected they would. I understand that they are already distributing food-all of them. Temple Avenue is thronged more than during a s.h.i.+eldmeet festival. The city will still have a hunger problem, but it will not be a crisis, at least not in the short term.”
Cale heard both appreciation and resentment in Tamlin's tone and resolved to hold his tongue. He hoped the measures stabilized the city until Tamlin's return. He did not trust Vees and the Old Chauncel to keep good order. In fact, he did not trust Vees Talendar at all.
Groups of Selgauntans gathered to watch them pa.s.s. The house guard kept them at a distance from Cale and Tamlin. None showed any anger toward Tamlin-Cale deemed that a good sign-and a few even shouted encouragement. Tamlin must have sent a herald to announce his departure.
”Two tendays ago, they cursed my name and spat on the ground as I pa.s.sed,” Tamlin said to Cale. He shook his head. ”The people are fickle.”
Cale made no comment and they rode in silence toward the Klaroun Gate. Scepters saluted as they pa.s.sed. The Helms stationed at the gate did the same. As they climbed the far side of High Bridge, looking down at the glittering, boat-dotted waters of the Elzimmer and Selgaunt Bay, Cale finally asked the question that was eating at him. ”How did Vees Talendar come to gain your confidence, my lord?”
Tamlin's mouth tightened and Cale knew he should not have asked. ”Vees Talendar has been an a.s.set to me and the city for over a year, Mister Cale. As for anything more, I am not inclined to share it.” He looked Cale in the face and said, ”The how and the why do not matter.”
Cale did not like having his words thrown back at him but he bit back his anger. He did not regret his words to Tamlin over dinner, but he thought perhaps he could have delivered them with more tact. Despite Tamlin's station, he remained in many ways the disappointing son of an accomplished father.
Cale sighed and made himself as comfortable as possible in the saddle. It would be a long ride to Ordulin.
[image]
Miklos Selkirk guided his dappled mare around a deep rut in the earth. Kavin skirted it on the other side on his roan mare.
”She is involved,” Miklos said across the gap. ”There can be no doubt.”
Miklos had been saying much the same thing for the previous two days. Kavin knew it was his brother's way of facing the death of their father. Miklos grieved by talking, planning, shouting, acting. He was never one to sit in a corner and wail.
Kavin had always been the more thoughtful of the two Selkirk brothers, and he did his best to check his brother's unwise impulses. He said, ”Our contacts in the High Council indicated that the Tyrrans questioned her before the High Council. Mirabeta denied involvement in Father's death, and the high lord abbot p.r.o.nounced it truth.”
Miklos's lips twisted in contempt under his moustache. ”Then he is wrong, bought, or both.”
”Father's spirit named Endren his murderer.”
They guided their horses back together and Miklos shook his head. ”You know Endren Corrinthal, Kavin. He is no murderer. Besides, it was Abelar Corrinthal who sent word to us in Scardale and who described the events in the High Council. The man is as right as a carpenter's square. No, this is the work of Mirabeta and that scheming niece she keeps at her side. I am certain of it.”
Kavin did know Endren, mostly by reputation. The elder Corrinthal was regarded as an astute politician and an honorable man. His son, Abelar, a servant of Lathander, was above reproach. Abelar had left Ordulin but sent word to Miklos in Scardale, telling him of events, warning him away from Ordulin, and offering him sanctuary in Saerb. Miklos had sent a written reply, thanking Abelar but declining the offer of sanctuary. His place was in Ordulin, he had written.
”We never should have left the capital,” Miklos said, pulling at one end of his moustache. ”Not with everything that has happened recently. If we had been there, this never would have occurred.”
Kavin nodded, though he was not entirely sure he knew which ”this” Miklos meant. He said nothing. His brother was given to recriminations and nothing Kavin could say would stop him. Kavin doubted that their presence would have changed much.
”Look at this,” Miklos said hotly, and gestured at the field through which they rode. Kavin could not tell from the bare, dried dirt what might have grown there once. He a.s.sumed barley, possibly wheat. Miklos snorted. ”Fallow. The upcountry fields are fallow all across the realm. Villages are abandoned. d.a.m.ned drought. Double-d.a.m.ned dragons. And thrice-d.a.m.ned Rain of Fire!” He frowned and said softly, ”A realm can bear only so much. Sembia is tottering. I feel it. I fear what will become of it, Kavin.”
”Nothing good, with Mirabeta as overmistress,” Kavin answered.
”Temporary overmistress,” Miklos corrected with a wag of his finger. ”And we will remedy even that as soon as possible.” overmistress,” Miklos corrected with a wag of his finger. ”And we will remedy even that as soon as possible.”
”Agreed,” Kavin said.
After receiving word from Abelar three days earlier, they had left Scardale in secret and in disguise, cutting southwest across the backcountry to avoid the roads and spies. The travel was slower than by road, but more circ.u.mspect. The Silver Ravens-the men of Miklos's mercenary company-had wanted to provide an armed escort but Miklos and Kavin had refused. They hoped to enter Ordulin unnoted and unannounced, a.s.sess the political situation and how best to play it, and find out the truth behind their father's death.
”I have arranged a safehouse in Ordulin,” Kavin said. ”We should have a tenday or more before the moot.”
”Time enough,” Miklos said.
Kavin agreed, though they would have to move fast to solidify opposition to Mirabeta.
After a time, they dismounted and broke for a quick meal of dried meat and stale bread. Kavin was relieved to be out of the saddle. Hard riding over rough terrain had left him sore.
After eating, they mounted up and continued their crosscountry trek, hoping to reach Ordulin by the next night. After about two hours of riding and continued plotting and grumbling, Miklos pulled back on his reins. His mare snorted and danced a half-circle. He wore a puzzled look.
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