Times assassin, p.28
Time's Assassin, page 28
part #3 of The Islevale Cycle Series
Later, as they sipped a sweet Fairisle white, Myles asked if Risch intended to stay the night.
“If I may. I can sleep on my ship, of course, but your castle would be more comfortable.”
“Of course it would. You have no objection, do you, Your Highness?”
She thinned another unconvincing smile. “It is your castle, my lord duke. I am merely a guest.”
“Might you and I speak in private tomorrow, Your Highness?” Risch asked. “Our houses have been at odds for too long.”
“Hardly the fault of House Sheraigh. But I can see why, with the recent change in our relative fortunes, you would now seek accommodation.”
“I wish only to—”
“You wish to save your neck, Duvyn. That’s clear. You have set your house against mine for years. For a time you did this with the blessing and protection of the former sovereign. You no longer have that luxury. You fear for yourself, your family, your castle and lands. And you should.”
Risch set his cup on the table and pushed back. “As I was going to say, I wish only to seek a lessening of tensions between our houses. I see now that this is not possible. I should leave.”
“Nonsense,” Myles said. “You’re my guest, and I say you are welcome. Surely our new sovereign would not presume to tell his dukes whom they can and cannot welcome into their homes.” He cast an expectant look at the princess.
She drank a bit of wine, placed her cup on the table as well, and stood. “You are free to host whomever you please, Lord Trohsden, but do not expect me to suffer the company of men who have insulted my family. Until tomorrow.” Her gaze flicked toward Risch. “Duvyn.”
She swept from the hall, trailed by her ministers and guards.
When she was gone, Myles faced Risch and shook his head. “You should have sent a message first. I could have told you not to waste a voyage.”
“I had to come.”
At a questioning look, Risch shook his head. “Later,” he mouthed.
“Well, let’s find you a chamber for the evening.”
“Thank you, my friend.” Risch stood and turned to Ejino.
“Crosser, would you be so kind as to gather my belongings from our vessel? It seems I will be a guest in the castle tonight.”
“Of course, my lord.”
They had counted on this, had assumed Myles would find a way to make it possible. If he hadn’t, they would have attempted to sail from Trohsden that night. As it was, they were ready for the next phase of Ejino’s plan.
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Ejino returned to the ship late in the day. Tobias saw him coming and met him at the rails, a hundred questions on his tongue.
At a cautioning look from the Crosser, though, he swallowed them all and resumed swabbing the ship’s deck, which he had been doing before the man’s arrival.
Ejino went below, only to emerge some time later wearing a plain shirt and breeches. He perched himself on the rails near where Tobias worked, but he didn’t say anything or invite Tobias to join him. Instead, he stared out over the water, and, every so often, scanned the wharf below. Tobias kept his attention on his work but eased toward the Crosser.
“I was followed from the castle,” Ejino said, his voice low, his lips barely moving, his gaze always fixed elsewhere. “I don’t see anyone now, but I’m not certain they’re gone.”
“Can you tell me what happened?”
“Well, it wasn’t just any emissary.” Over the next several spirecounts, speaking in short bursts separated by longer silences, Ejino explained who was at the castle and what had happened in Myles’s hall. Alarmed as Tobias was by the presence of Noak’s sister in Trohsden, he was more interested in what Myles might do.
In this regard, however, Ejino had less information to offer.
“Some of what he said might have been for the benefit of the princess,” the Crosser told him. “Not all of it, though. I believe he was genuinely dismayed that my duke came here unannounced. I’m afraid he’s not in a position to help us.”
“He has to,” Tobias said without thinking.
“Why?”
Their eyes met. Tobias angled away from him, continuing his work.
“None of the others are listening to us,” Ejino said. “No one on the wharves is close enough to hear.”
“I need a chronofor—actually, I have one, but I need a Binder to fix it.”
“Myles’s Binder.”
“That’s my hope.”
“And why do you need it?”
Tobias faltered, kept his eyes trained on the deck.
For a long time neither of them spoke, until at last Tobias chanced a look at Ejino. The Crosser watched him, cool appraisal in the dark eyes.
“If Myles won’t help you, we’ll find another Binder. I’m sure of it.” Ejino surveyed the sky, which had begun to darken. “We should get you ready.”
“What about the people who followed you?”
“I haven’t seen them. For all I know, I imagined it.”
“Is that what you think?”
He shook his head. “No, I was followed. But you need a Binder, and my duke really does need his belongings, so you should prepare anyway.”
Tobias had long since swabbed the entire deck—parts of it twice.
He dumped out his bucket, set his mop in a corner to dry, and followed the Crosser below.
As he pulled off his uniform shirt, he heard Ejino suck in a sharp breath.
“Blood and bone. What did they do to you?”
Tobias didn’t turn. “Nothing that couldn’t be healed.”
“Sheraighs did that?”
“Mearlan’s assassin. Windhome-trained. A Northisler, like us. He works with the Sheraighs, but I don’t think he works for them.”
“Then who?”
“Oaqamar.”
Ejino handed him the robe he had worn to Trohsden Castle earlier in the day. “This won’t fit well, but it’s loose enough on me that you should be able to wear it.”
Tobias pulled on the robe, which was far too snug in the shoulders, and too short as well. He thought he must look ridiculous. He faced Ejino, held out his arms.
The Crosser tried with little success to hide his grin.
“This isn’t going to fool anyone,” Tobias said.
“You’ll be carrying the duke’s belongings. Chances are no one will notice.”
Tobias wasn’t so sure.
“To be honest, Walker, guards are more likely to take note of your scars.”
He couldn’t argue. Ejino stepped to him and adjusted the robe a bit. He frowned, adjusted it again, frowned more.
“Walk quickly,” he said.
Tobias had to laugh.
He added his own carry sack to the items he would be bearing to the castle. He concealed a blade in a sheath at his calf and loaded his pistols, which he concealed again within the sack.
When he was ready, they climbed to the deck. There, they waited until darkness fell and the tolling of the castle bells cascaded down through the city lanes. Ejino believed this marked the end of the day watch at Trohsden’s gates and the arrival of the night watch guards.
“With any luck, the soldiers who saw me today are gone, and the ones who have taken their place won’t know you aren’t Duvyn’s Crosser.”
“With any luck...” Tobias repeated.
“The Two keep you safe.”
Tobias nodded once, left the ship, and started along the cobbled road leading from the wharves to the city gate.
Predictably, Trohsden’s gate soldiers stopped him and asked questions. Where was he going? Why was his duke not with him?
What was in the satchels he carried? Why did his robe fit him so poorly?
These last two were the most difficult and dangerous. The guards spoke of searching the bags, which, of course, would reveal the tri-sextants and his broken chronofor.
“You may accompany me to the castle,” Tobias said, speaking with all the arrogance he could muster, “and explain to my duke why you wish to look through his belongings. For that matter, you can explain to your own duke why you have cast suspicion on a noble whom he names a guest and a friend. But you will not do any of this without my duke’s permission.”
This gave the men pause.
About his robe, he said, “I’m new in the castle. My predecessor was smaller than I am, and the duke’s seamster has not yet made robes for me.”
In the end, they let him pass. By now Tobias was sweating, and he still had some distance to walk and a hill to climb.
He followed the cobbled lane from the gate through the heart of the city, which was quiet now, the streets largely empty.
So it was that as he turned a corner and paused to shift part of his burden, he heard steps behind him. They halted an instant later. Tobias walked on, then paused abruptly. Again, a footstep followed by silence.
Ejino hadn’t imagined it. He was followed. And now whoever had dogged his steps was stalking Tobias.
Chapter Nineteen
18th Day of Sipar’s Ascent, Year 634
Whoever tracked him would know he wasn’t the Crosser. He—or she—
had followed both of them, probably had observed them on the ship. Everything Tobias hoped to accomplish in Trohsden was at risk.
Yet, what could he do?
Had he not been laden with Risch’s belongings, and his own, he might have doubled back and confronted his pursuer. He trusted himself to prevail in a fight if it came to that.
But with his arms full, he had no choice but to walk on and allow himself to be followed. It made no sense to flee—the person behind him knew where he was going.
The guards at the castle gate questioned him much as had those at the city gate. In the end, though, they let him enter the castle.
Two soldiers accompanied him into the fortress and to Risch’s quarters.
Duvyn’s guards flanked the door. The duke was alone within.
Once Trohsden’s soldiers had withdrawn, Tobias dug into his carry sack and pulled out his broken chronofor.
“You took longer than I expected,” Risch said, standing over him.
“I’m sorry, my lord. Ejino had me wait until nightfall and the evening bells.” He straightened. “He was followed, and so was I.
We might not have much time.”
“Damn,” the duke said. “All right.” He strode to the door.
As an afterthought, Tobias retrieved the sack holding Orzili’s tri-sextant as well.
“What is that?” Risch asked.
Tobias pulled the tri-sextant from the sack and held it up to allow the duke a closer look. Candlelight gleamed on the three
arcs, casting bright reflections on the walls. “It’s called a tri-sextant. It’s a Bound device that allows Spanners to ply their talent in groups, armed, clothed.”
“You Span as well?”
He shook his head. “Mara does. I’m just a Walker. We took this from Mearlan’s assassin. Most Binders have never seen such a thing, and we thought it was time our side began to use this advance as well. I intend to offer it to Myles and his Binder as payment for repairing my chronofor.”
“Clever.”
Tobias returned the device to the carry sack. They left Risch’s quarters and, with Duvyn’s guards arrayed around them, followed the corridors to a chamber on the second level of the castle.
Soldiers stood outside Myles’s door, of course. Upon their arrival, one of the guards entered the chamber. He soon emerged again and allowed Risch and Tobias to enter.
The chamber reminded Tobias of Mearlan’s chamber in Hayncalde, though it wasn’t quite so large. An oil lamp burned on a standing desk, and pigeons cooed in a small cage beside the shuttered windows. Tapestries depicting rolling farmland, forests, and mountains hung along the walls. Candles burned in sconces mounted between them. A round rug woven in shades of red and yellow covered much of the stone floor.
The man sitting by the hearth, his face lit by a low fire, was younger than Tobias had expected. He rose as they entered the chamber, welcomed Risch with a quick smile, and turned the weight of his keen gaze on Tobias.
“Who is this?” he asked, more wariness than welcome in the tone.
“My name is Tobias Doljan, my lord.”
“You’ve sent me messages.”
“I have, my lord. I wish to work with you, to find some way to...to undo some of the damage done to our isle in the past several turns.”
“ Our isle,” the duke repeated. “Forgive me, Mister Doljan, but you don’t look like a man of Daerjen.”
“Myles!”
“It’s all right, my lord,” Tobias said to Risch. To the duke of Trohsden, he said, “I was born on Onyi, in the Sisters. A town called Redcove. I trained in Windhome, my home for much of my childhood. And I served in Hayncalde. Mearlan was my sovereign.”
“I never heard him speak of you. How long were you in his court?”
“A few days.”
“Days!” Myles glanced at Risch, seeming to gauge his response.
Duvyn’s duke kept his face impassive.
“That is not a true measure of what I’ve given to House Hayncalde, nor does it convey my devotion to Mearlan’s line.”
“This is foolishness, Risch,” the duke said to his friend. “What can a Spanner—”
“I’m not a Spanner,” Tobias said.
At the same time, Risch said, “Hear him out, Myles.”
Trohsden’s duke looked from one to the other. After hesitating, he sat again, indicated that the two of them should do the same.
He offered them wine. Both refused. Myles pushed his own cup to the center of the table by his chair.
“I’m not a Spanner,” Tobias said again, whispering now. “I’m a Walker. I began serving Mearlan nearly fourteen years from now, in a future that’s been lost because of subsequent events.”
“Fourteen years? You’ve Walked back that far?”
“I have, my lord.”
“Then you’re just a boy.”
He said this with such sympathy that Tobias’s throat constricted.
So few people understood.
“That’s beside the point, my lord.”
Myles considered him, his expression pained, but he motioned for him to continue.
“The very day I Walked back, Mearlan was assassinated, and I was trapped in this time. In part by a broken chronofor, but in part as well by...by circumstance.”
“Meaning?”
Tobias paused. They had come to the crux of all. Did he trust this man enough to answer his simple question? Did he dare risk Sofya’s life and the last hope of Mearlan’s line?
Before he could make his choice, Risch said, “He can’t tell you that yet, Myles. Not until you answer a few questions.”
Myles narrowed his eyes but acquiesced with a flick of his hand.
“We need to know if we can trust you. You haven’t responded to any of our messages.”
“I’m being watched,” the duke said. “Emella is here. The Sheraighs intercept our ships, stop our riders. Any message I might send you they would read. That’s why I haven’t answered.”
“So you haven’t decided to throw your support to Noak?”
Myles stared at Risch for a fivecount, then stood and stepped closer to the hearth.
“You have, haven’t you?”
“I’ve decided nothing, but the pressure from Sheraigh... I want to resist, truly I do. But what’s the point? They have Mearlan’s ships. They’ve defeated his army. Those they could press into service now wear Sheraigh blue. Many of those they couldn’t are dead.” He paused at this, his eyes finding Risch’s. “Your life is in danger, my friend. You know this, but I wish to emphasize it.
You shouldn’t have come. I believe they would prefer to keep me alive. I can help them consolidate power. But if I hold out for too long, they’ll kill me, and my sons, and they’ll give my lands to Quilyn or even Faendor.” He fisted a hand, opened it again. “I can’t resist them forever.”
“And you shouldn’t,” Tobias said. “You should order us gone tomorrow and tell the princess that you’ve made up your mind to support the new sovereign. And all of that should be a lie.”
Myles considered Tobias before shifting his gaze back to Risch.
“I don’t want to help them. I swear I don’t. How long have we been friends? I can’t remember a time when we weren’t. And I loved Mearlan like a brother. If I had any reason to believe that we could fight the Sheraighs, I’d do it. But it strikes me as an empty gesture, a rebellion born of spite and vengeance and nothing more.”
Risch’s eyes found Tobias, and the two of them smiled.
“What?” Myles asked.
Tobias joined him by the hearth. “There is something more, my lord. I was there the night Mearlan died. I survived, and so did one other. Sofya.” He breathed the name. It was so quiet, Myles leaned toward him, even as hope broke across his face like the dawn. Widened eyes, a disbelieving smile.
“If this is a ruse...”
“It’s not. I swear it on my life.”
“She’s in Duvyn now, Myles,” Risch said. “Corinne is with her, as is Tobias’s wife. Tobias and Mara have been posing as her parents.”
Myles looked at Risch and then at Tobias. Tobias sensed that the duke wasn’t suspicious so much as he was afraid to hope.
“She looks like Keeda,” he told the duke. “Except her eyes are blue. I also met the princess when she was a young woman—she was the image of her mother then, too.”
“When you speak of her, you sound like a father.”
“I’ve never had my own child—as you say, I’m young. Even so, I can’t imagine loving any son or daughter more than I do the princess.” He traced a finger along one of the scars on his face, and then another. “I got these in Hayncalde’s dungeon after Mearlan was killed. They wanted me to give her up so they could kill her. I refused.”
“You escaped?”
“In time, yes. With help from servants of Sipar.”
A click from a far corner of the chamber made all of them whirl.
A second door, one Tobias hadn’t noticed earlier, swung open.
“I think I’ve heard enough,” said Emella Sheraigh, stepping into the chamber. Four soldiers followed her. She held up a cup for Tobias and the dukes to see. “Thanks to this, I heard most of what you said. A trick I learned from my father. I imagine some time with my brother’s interrogators will reveal the rest.”
