Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses) (45 page)

BOOK: Dark Moon Defender (Twelve Houses)
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“By the way. In case I didn’t say so before. Stay away from the window,” he said over his shoulder. “You don’t want anyone seeing you look out. I don’t just mean Gisseltess guards, I mean anyone. The whole time you’re here.”
 
 
“That won’t be hard,” she said. “All I want to do is sleep anyway.”
 
 
“That’ll wear off after a while.”
 
 
She gave a small laugh. “I don’t think so.”
 
 
There. Justin flattened himself against the wall and peered out at an angle. Looked like the guards had broken up into teams of two and were taking their own sweet time about conducting their search. Damn. One pair had just stepped into the building next to the boardinghouse; another had entered the shop across the street. Maybe fifteen minutes and one set would be walking through the door downstairs.
 
 
Justin pivoted from the window and surveyed the room for anything that would give away the marlady’s presence. Small, expensive shoes on the floor; fur-lined coat folded neatly by the bed. That wouldn’t do.
 
 
“You get under the covers,” he instructed. “Completely under—I don’t even want to see your hair. I’m going to mess things up a bit.”
 
 
She complied without comment, though she did peek at him from under the sheets while he created a systematic havoc. He hid her shoes under her coat, then pulled out one of the dresser drawers and dumped its contents on top. His own boots he lobbed in the general direction of the pile. He wanted this room to look like it was lived in by a man who just threw all his clothes on the floor. There were two dirty plates and two glasses left from yesterday’s hasty meal. He placed one set on top of the dresser and hid the other set inside the drawer that was now empty. No other traces of Sabina were evident.
 
 
Back to the window to watch. Soon enough, soldiers were stalking through the door of the boardinghouse. Concentrating closely, Justin thought he could hear a snarl of outrage from the patrons downstairs, then the tread of heavy footsteps. He crossed the room to listen at the door, turning the lock slowly so it fell in place without a sound. Voices on the stairs—loud knocks, raised protests, what could have been a door slamming open and hitting an interior wall. The soldiers were still on the first level. More argument, a small crash, the sound of something hard falling to the floor. Footsteps on the stairs.
 
 
The soldiers were on the second story.
 
 
Justin turned and smiled at Sabina. It was clear she was deathly afraid, but he felt a fine and pleasurable energy running through his veins. “Looks like they’re coming all the way up,” he said. “I can still see your hair. Scoot down.”
 
 
He fetched the pillow and blanket from his own bed and bunched these up on top of Sabina. Stripped off his shirt and socks, so all he was wearing was a pair of trousers. Laid his sword just under the bed, in easy reach. Kept his dagger in his hand as he carefully climbed in next to Sabina, trying not to push too close. There was no way to escape a certain sense of intimacy. He turned so his back was to her and he was facing the door. He lay entirely still, every sense strained to hear what was happening.
 
 
Heavy footsteps on the stairs, a low exchange of voices, then an impatient pounding on the wood.
 
 
“Is anyone inside? Open the door.”
 
 
Justin didn’t answer. He quickly ran a hand through his hair, trying to make it look as messy as if he’d been sleeping on it for a few hours.
 
 
“Anyone inside?”
The query came more loudly, then there was a rattling at the door. “Locked. Someone’s in there.”
 
 
“Does one of the keys fit?”
 
 
“Too damn many keys to this place! I’d rather break the door in.”
 
 
“Knock again.”
 
 
“Is anyone in the room?”
 
 
Justin let his voice sound rusty and ill-tempered. “What is it? Who’s out there? I’m trying to sleep!”
 
 
The door rattled again. “Let us in! We’re men of the noble House of Gisseltess, searching for an escaped outlaw.”
 
 
“Nobody in here but me,” Justin said, slurring his words like a man on the point of falling back asleep. In reality, he was as alert as he’d ever been. The knife felt like an extension of his own hand.
 
 
Pounding on the door again. “We want to see for ourselves.”
 
 
“Go away!”
 
 
More muttering at the door, the jangle of keys, the sound of the lock clicking back. And suddenly the door swung open and two men burst inside.
 
 
Justin pushed himself up on his elbow and reared back, half-crushing Sabina under him. “Wha—I told you!” he said furiously. “There’s nobody in here! What time is it? I’ve been asleep an hour, do you understand that? Pale Lady curse you, I have to be on the road again in four hours, and you come breaking into my room—”
 
 
Unmoved by his tirade, the soldiers made a show of looking around. One of them even bent enough to see under the beds, while the other strolled over and kicked at the pile of clothes. Justin kept up the bitter monologue, fighting back a yawn, pulling himself upright in bed, and leaning his shoulders against the wall. He was trying not to actually sit on Sabina, but he could feel her compact shape against the small of his back. His hand with the dagger he kept concealed under the pillow.
 
 
The guards exchanged glances. One shook his head and the other shrugged. “No one here. Our apologies. Get back to sleep.”
 
 
“Back to
sleep
?” Justin repeated. “How am I going to manage
that
?” He threw a pillow at the door as they closed it behind them, and he heard one of them laugh. He sat forward enough to remove any pressure from Sabina, but otherwise did not move as he listened to the soldiers tramp down the stairs. When he judged they were on the ground story, he slipped out of bed and stood by the window, once again just peering out from the side. In another minute, he saw them leave by the front door and head to the next house.
 
 
“They’re gone,” he said, swinging around to look at Sabina and tucking his dagger back into its sheath. “You can come up for air.”
 
 
Rather slowly, she folded the covers back and sat up shakily. Her eyes were huge and her face was almost bloodless. “They would have found me if you hadn’t been here,” she said in a strangled voice.
 
 
He nodded. “Probably. But I don’t think they’ll come back.”
 
 
“You don’t
know
that.”
 
 
“I don’t know that,” he agreed.
 
 
“Then—will you stay with me? All the time? Not just at night?”
 
 
“I’m sorry, Sabina, but I can’t. I have a job to do—a couple of jobs—and they’re important. I think you’re safe for a day or so. I don’t think they’ll come back and search all the rooms they’ve just been through.”
 
 
She was kneading her hands together. “I can’t stay here. I need to get someplace safer. Someplace he can’t find me.”
 
 
“You do,” he said. “If help doesn’t come soon or I can’t think of a better plan, well, then, I guess I’ll have to try to take you to Ghosenhall myself.” He read the look on her face and added, “Don’t try to go without me. You won’t get very far. And I won’t come after you if you run, because I don’t have the time. You have to trust me, Sabina. I won’t let harm come to you, not if you do what I say.”
 
 
“I trust you,” she said in a very faint voice. “It’s just that— I’m so afraid.”
 
 
He nodded. “I know. But you’ll make it through. Just give me a few days to hope that a messenger from the king arrives.”
 
 
He sat on the floor and began pulling on his discarded clothes and boots. “You’re leaving now?” she said, trying not to sound panicked.
 
 
“For a while. I’ll be back later with a meal. Don’t make any noise. Don’t look out the window. I’ll be back sometime after dark.”
 
 
“I’ll be here,” she said.
 
 
He had to be careful as he made his way back to the stables. He didn’t want to run into the two guards who had questioned him, who might wonder why he wasn’t still in his room, trying to sleep. But he also wanted to get a sense of how much territory the Gisseltess men were planning to cover. So he made a hasty circuit through town and found the soldiers everywhere.
There must be thirty of them
, he thought, and they were forcing themselves into all kinds of establishments, from lace shops to barrooms to brothels. He even spotted some of them quartering the finer district of town, as he climbed the hill that took him to Jenetta Gisseltess’s place.
 
 
He stood for a moment outside the wrought-iron fence, looking up at serra Paulina’s window. Then he turned on his heel and headed back to the stables.
 
 
Delz seemed less annoyed at his absence than excited by the disturbance turning this into an out-of-the-ordinary day. “You see those Gisseltess men all over town?” the owner demanded. “Just came inside like they owned this place, looked in every stall, climbed up to the hayloft. Who are they hunting? Did you hear?”
 
 
Justin shrugged. “Outlaw, somebody said.”
 
 
Delz made a skeptical noise. “Someone Halchon Gisseltess isn’t too fond of, more like,” he said. “Man thinks he can ride around any of the southern properties and do anything he pleases. People are afraid of him. They hate him, but they let him do what he likes. People who stand up to him end up dead.”
 
 
Justin nodded. “That’s the way it happens sometimes.”
 
 
“Well, I hope they’re gone soon and they don’t come back,” Delz said. “Bet they don’t even leave their horses here if they decide to spend the night. Wish they’d go.”
 
 
Justin grinned a little at the juxtaposition of righteous anger and commercial greed. But he wished the soldiers would go, too.
 
 
He put some extra effort into his chores that afternoon, to make up for missing part of the morning, but his mind wasn’t on his work. What was he going to do with Sabina Gisseltess? What if no envoy arrived for another week—or more? He would not be able to hide her forever, and she would slowly go mad from terror if she had to cower alone in his room for too many days. Should he, in fact, abandon his post in Neft and risk the long journey to Ghosenhall? What if one of the Riders came looking for him? What kind of message could he leave that would make it clear a new imperative had superseded his original instructions? What if Ellynor needed him? He had
no
way of leaving her any information about his whereabouts. What if something critical happened in the city that he was supposed to be observing, and he missed it? He was fairly certain both Tayse and the king would agree Sabina was a prize worth changing their plans for, but he did not like the idea of leaving his post. Still, it might be his best choice. It might be his only one.
 
 
Should he leave? And if so, how quickly? Was there anything to be gained by lingering in Neft even another day?
 
 
For a moment, he paused in his act of sweeping out the back room and let his hands lie idle on the broom handle. A single pulse of pain drove an ache deep into his skull, and he briefly closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was seized with a sudden conviction. He would stay in Neft another two days. He would know then what he was supposed to do. It was almost as if he had heard a voice, echoing and disembodied, in the back of his head.
Wait
, that voice had said. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t know if it was real, but he had made his decision. For now, he and the marlady would stay put. If no answer became clear in two days, they would hazard the journey to Ghosenhall.
 
 
 
 
THE Gisseltess soldiers did not reappear, and Sabina grew a little calmer. True to her word, she seemed likely to sleep away her entire sojourn in Justin’s room, for she was never awake any time he returned—at night, or in quick checks during the middle of the day. He realized she really had nothing to do except sleep, but he thought there might be more to it than that. He thought she might have spent the entire span of her marriage in a heightened state of readiness, prepared for the next insult, the next blow, the next threat against her life. He wondered if she had ever been able to relax for a minute.

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