Fifth Quarter (32 page)

"Are
you still sane?"

"Stop it, Bannon. Don't you start." Saddlebags slung over her shoulder, sandals dangling from one hand, she padded barefoot across the stableyard to a secluded corner between the sandstone wall that separated the inn's property from the road and the small corral. Dropping her sandals onto the packed earth, she hung the bags over the top rail and peered in at the horses.

"Then am I still sane?"

He sounded so frightened that she stood where she was, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. Bannon had never been afraid of anything. Not the things small boys were often afraid of. Not the training that killed one candidate for every two assassins it produced. Not what they were ordered to do, no matter how difficult. He'd never even been afraid of losing her, as she'd been afraid of losing him. She felt her palms rubbing together and as gently as she could, forced her hands apart.

"Sister-mine?"

"You're as sane as you ever were," she told him. "Not that anyone who once carved his name on the wall in Commander Neegan's quarters just to prove he could should be considered sane."

She felt a smile begin. "I couldn't do it now."

"That's because you'd never get
this
body into the commander's quarters, especially not when he was asleep in them!"

"I was there." He sounded smug. "I've been dreaming your dreams for a couple of nights now. I just never mentioned it before."

Heat and the kind of sex that seared its mark on the skin for everyone to see if they only know how to look. Arms and legs entwined, bodies slick with sweat, and a final, ultimate fulfillment.

"I was flattered."

Except that it wasn't Bannon. She'd had dreams about Bannon since she was old enough for desire and last night, while she'd dreamed about her brother's body, it was
not
his life controlling it.

She opened her eyes. "It's getting lighter. If we want to work out, we have to do it now."

He settled, complacent, into the back of her mind, secure of his place in her life if nowhere else. As she stretched flexibility back into muscles and joints, she wished she could feel that same security.
Was
he sane? She didn't know. Even ignoring his attempts to take over her body, his mood swings were extreme and his habits were blurring together with hers. It was becoming harder to determine which was her and which was Bannon but no trouble at all to determine which was Gyhard.

Was
she
sane? It didn't really matter. If one of them went off the edge, the other would follow.

A short time later, skin beaded with sweat, breathing just hard enough to prove she'd put effort into the exercises, she slid her dusty feet into the heavy leather sandals and knelt to buckle them.

That bard. Vree slowly straightened and turned toward the inn. The common room stretched the length of the east side of the building and overlooked the stableyard. One of the tall, narrow shutters had been thrown open and Vree thought she could see movement in the depths of the window well. Had Gyhard and Karlene formed some kind of an alliance? They were from the same country after all. Perhaps in Shkoder they thought nothing of stealing another's body.

"Don't be an ass, Vree. If they did this all the time in Shkoder, Karlene wouldn't have had to ask how it happened." He paused then continued. "Besides, she wanted to be your friend, not his."

Secure in the knowledge that he was first in his sister's life, Bannon had never been jealous of Vree's few friends the way she'd been of his multitude.

Gyhard remained off limits for an increasingly complicated number of reasons, and she couldn't accept the comfort of a few hours with Karlene as long as Bannon remained in her mind.

"Hey, don't cut
my
tongue out." He sounded sulky. "I just think it would be slaughtering unfair to go back to my own body without once experiencing sex as a woman."

"Why don't you think about a way to get us out of this alive, instead of worrying about getting laid?" Vree snapped and headed back to the inn and food. She could feel the stablehands staring at her as they tossed fodder into the corral and, uncomfortable with her suspicions, only barely resisted giving them something to stare at.

"Marshal? Squad leader Zefra reports a city guard at the gate who says she has something important to tell you."

Marshall Usef sighed and rubbed a little scented oil into his hands. Many of the Imperial Court found sword calluses exciting while at the same time they objected to rough skin. Commanding the First Army had complications he'd never anticipated during his climb to the top. "Commander, I don't
see
city guards. If you think she has something important to say, you see her."

"Sir, according to the squad leader, she said it was about His Highness."

"His Highness?" Usef had spend every moment of the past three days and nights coordinating search patterns and arranging for the questioning of suspects. A few of the more highly placed suspects, he'd questioned himself. Couriers brought back news of failure after failure from the companies he'd sent out along the Great Roads, the prince remained missing, and the Emperor was beginning to lose patience.

"The bugger." A familiar pressure began to build in Usef's temples. The moment the prince was found, he'd retire to that villa by the sea and spend what was left of his life watching sunsets. "All right," he said at last, rubbing the square between his fingers, the oil on his skin giving the leather a greasy sheen, "I'll see this guard of Neegan's. But she'd better have something intelligent to say or she's going to pay for his insolence."

"First Army."

"What?" Gyhard raised a hand to shield his eyes. Marching toward them, just at the edge of identification, came a troop of soldiers.

"One sunburst on the pennants," Vree snapped. "First Army." The First Army left the Capital only under Imperial orders. An assassin who deserted committed treason, an Imperial offense. Obviously, someone in the Capital had recognized them. "How did they get ahead of us?"

"How the slaughter should I know?"

The grazing land to both the north and south offered no cover and no excuse to leave the road. Suddenly taking off cross-country would solve nothing. "We can't run…"

"We sure as shit can't fight!"

"We haven't any choice." Blood roared in her ears as her body prepared for battle.

"They must've looked right by His Highness when they passed the cart," Karlene muttered. "Just like everyone else."

"Probably went as far as the Third Army garrison at Shaebridge," Gyhard agreed.

His Highness. Of course, the First Army had been ordered along the Great Roads hunting for the missing prince—on the morning after, they'd met a company searching the South Road. Now, four days later, this company would have reached the territory of the Third Army and be returning home. "We should've known they weren't looking for us."

"She's talking to her brother," Gyhard said shortly. "You get used to it." He took another look at the approaching soldiers. The military blur had begun to separate into individuals.
Or as close to individuals as the military allows
, he thought, shooting half a glance at Vree. But the whole mass moved with a jerky vehemence that suggested they were none too pleased about their failure to find Prince Otavas. "I think we'd better expect trouble and take the time we have remaining to decide what our business is along this road."

"They have no reason to stop us," Karlene began indignantly.

"They could come up with any number of reasons if they wanted to, all perfectly legal under Imperial law, but they don't need any of them."

"Why not?"

"Because there're three of us and considerably more of them and they're in a bad mood. Not to mention that an Imperial prince is missing and everyone is suspect until His Highness is found."

"That we're after a cart pulled by dead men and that cart contains the prince?" Gyhard shook his head. "Even you, Lady Bard, couldn't make them believe that."

"Riders," Vree said abruptly as two of the mounted officers separated from the column and galloped toward them, a squad of infantry following at the jog. "You'd better let Gyhard do the lying while you Sing."

"Aimed at a target," Vree supplied when he hesitated. "I'd better do the talking. You don't even know the words."

"You can do the talking,
if
we're recognized."

"Don't tell me you trust him?"

"I trust him to save his own ass and you've got to admit, he's had practice at that." Vree reined in her horse as the pair of Imperial officers stopped in the middle of the road. While sufficient room remained to go around them on either side, their intentions were plain. "Don't do anything to attract attention."