Nightblade: A Book of Underrealm (The Nightblade Epic 1) (13 page)

Loren seized Annis’s hand in hers and ran for the girl’s carriage. The dagger leapt into her hand before she could think to draw it, and she slashed at the leather binding the lead horse to its harness.
 

The driver cried out in alarm, but Loren ignored him. Clashing steel made the horse whinny in fright, and it nearly bolted. Loren jumped back, but Annis pressed forward. She took the harness in her hands like reins and put a hand on the horse’s neck, whispering soothing words.

The driver started to climb down from his perch. Loren vaulted toward him, her dagger held forward. She thrust it at the space between his legs, and the man yelped as he flew back to his seat.

“Stay where you are! Next time, I strike true.” It was a lie, but the man believed her and did not move again.

The horse had calmed. Loren flung herself onto its back and leaned down to drag Annis up after her, but in front where her long years of riding would help most. Annis kicked her heels into the horse’s flanks. Loren nearly pitched off the back, stopping herself only by clutching the girl’s body with both hands.

At first, the horse swerved, heading right for the fighting. Loren screamed incoherently, and Annis dragged her reins to the right. The mount turned aside at the last moment, passing the edge of men swirling in battle around Damaris’s carriage.
 

Gregor turned to stare in astonishment. They passed close enough for Loren to lash out with her boot. His nose crunched under the sole, and he fell.

They fled as fast as they could. Behind them, Loren heard Damaris’s voice erupt in rage and anguish as her daughter sped away from her forever.
 

“We will ride around the city!” Loren shouted over the thundering hooves, grunting after every other word—riding a horse hurt more without a saddle. “Then stay on the road south and make for the next one. Or perhaps hide in woods nearby while we think of where to go.”

“We can’t,” said Annis. “It’s too far to the next city on one horse. Mother will catch us for certain. And they say bandits roam these woods.”

“We cannot enter the city,” said Loren, aghast.

“We must. We shall come in by another gate, before word has had time to spread. Easier to hide among a thousand people than ten thousand trees, or so I have heard. We will hide until we find secure passage from the city. I have coin.”

She dug into a pocket and pulled out a purse. Annis placed it in Loren’s hand, and then dug out another to jiggle it between her fingers. She glanced at Loren over her shoulder, an impish grin lighting her features.

“And that is not all. Look.”

She dug within her pocket again and withdrew a second package wrapped in brown cloth.

Loren’s breath hissed between her teeth. “I fear you have stolen something far more dear than coin.”

“If others value it so highly, that is to our advantage.”

“And here I meant to be the thief. You take to it most naturally.”

Annis laughed, and they rode on.

Soon, the horse had carried them to another gate, this one on the south and west side of the city. Many people crowded this avenue, unlike the King’s road that had lain empty. Annis skillfully guided the horse into line between two wagons, one loaded high with hay, the other filled with caged chickens.

“Cabrus has a large district where the people are poor and the constables lax in their patrols,” said Annis, speaking quietly. “We will find an inn there, the sort where the master does not ask many questions. Then we will seek out some traveler or trader who means to leave the city and buy our passage with him.”

“Whom can we trust? Anyone who hears of your mother will turn us over for the reward she will surely bring.”

Annis bit her lower lip. “I had not thought of that. But no matter. We will think of something.”

They passed through the gate without incident. The guards took one look at Annis’s fine dress and Loren’s black cloak, nodding as they waved them through. One guard gave a curious look at the horse’s lack of saddle, but beyond that they ignored the girls. Loren realized with some surprise that the guards thought her a girl of noble birth. That felt curious.

Once inside, Loren dismounted and walked beside the horse, relieved not to feel the creature’s spine slapping between her legs. Though at first she glanced over her shoulder and peered doubtfully around every corner, her eyes soon drew up and around to stare at the city.

Loren knew she had visited Cabrus once as a child, but only because adults had told her. She could remember nothing of the place. Now she could not imagine how people lived here. Buildings pressed against each other, some sharing walls. Some stood only a single level, while others had second floors hanging over the street. Loren yelped and dodged as someone emptied a pot out a window into the street beside her. A wave of stench declared it a chamber pot.

“Is this the poor district?” she said, tugging on Annis’s dress.

“This? No, of course not.” Annis looked down at Loren from the horse, nonplussed.
 

“But then why—”

Loren could not finish her thought, for strong hands seized her from behind. One gripped her left hand; the other seized her right shoulder.

“Greetings, Loren of the family Nelda,” hissed Bern’s cruel voice in her ear.

Loren had no time to think and acted upon the first thought to cross her mind. She reached out and slapped the mount’s rump as hard as she could. The beast whinnied and tore off, speeding down the cobbled street and out of sight.

“After it!” cried Bern. Several men in leather armor pursued the horse down the street. Bern whirled Loren around, and she saw Corin standing with several others.
 

“Welcome to Cabrus.” Corin’s eyes were grim. “You have much to answer for.”

sixteen

Loren slipped, her boots scrabbling on the cobblestones as she pitched to the ground. Bern tightened his vice-like grip on her shoulder, dragging her back to standing as she winced with pain.
 

“Keep your feet, lest you lose them,” he growled.

Fear scattered her thoughts. How had the constables found her so quickly? Where would they take her? The unfairness cut her to the bone. It was Xain they pursued, and the wizard who should be in their clutches now.

“I do not know where the wizard is,” she pleaded. “Let me go. I have done nothing.”

Bern did not reply. Loren looked to Corin. The shorter constable’s eyes met hers. His glare seemed resolute, but not so hateful as Bern’s. If she would find leniency with either of them, it would be with Corin.

“I am only a forester’s daughter. What do you want from me?”

Corin’s mouth turned down. “We have questions. You would do well to answer them honestly.”

“I have told you, I know nothing!” said Loren.

She searched the streets around her for succor, halfway hoping that Annis might return with a plan for her rescue. But Loren had sent Annis’s horse running, and in her heart of hearts she did not expect the girl’s return.
 

Nothing about the city seemed familiar. Loren had only vague childhood memories of large buildings and winding streets. Now the buildings seemed smaller, and the streets no less confusing. After the first few turns ’round corners, Loren had swiftly lost all sense of direction. There seemed no rhyme or reason to the place, the roads as varied and were aimless as gaps between trees. She was in a strange and unknown forest, her woodcraft useless.

Only a few men accompanied her: Corin, Bern, and two more. The other constables had chased after Annis in her headlong flight. Loren hoped she might face no further punishment for aiding the girl’s escape, but she would have done it again. Annis deserved a life free from her mother.

Thoughts of Damaris piqued her curiosity. “What happened to the merchant? Is she slain?”

Bern snorted, his voice finding new cruelty. “She is within the city, and greatly desires to speak with you when she may.”

Shock swallowed Loren’s fear. “What? But her men attacked you.”

“Mayhap you should not have fled, then.” Bern’s fingers tightened again, and Loren knew her skin would soon be purple. “Once you left, she halted the fighting and claimed the magestones were your property.”

“The . . . what?” said Loren, utterly lost.

“We could not gainsay her without you there to defend yourself,” said Corin. “Though that may not have mattered in the end. The family of Yerrin has a long reach, and their influence may be felt even behind the walls of Cabrus.”

“I would have had their heads, and well justified,” said Bern. “But that blame goes to you, girl.”

“I do not even know what the things were! Search Damaris’s wagons. You will find plenty more, I assure you.”

“Not now,” said Corin. “As she spoke, the mayor’s envoy arrived with a writ of passage. Her wagons have no doubt been cleared, their cargo well hid.”

Bern growled, “And all thanks to you.”

Loren felt sick. Annis’s actions should have cast the King’s justice toward Damaris, freeing Loren to find safe passage to other lands. But it seemed she had aided the merchant’s crimes after all, and earned Bern’s ire in doing so.

Loren was trapped, just as surely as when she traveled with the caravan. And without Annis or any other ally, her escape seemed even less likely than before.

The constables paused for a line of carriages to proceed through an intersection. Loren’s eyes flitted back and forth, seeking opportunity. Bern must have sensed it, for again his grip tightened. Loren whimpered as stabbing pain rolled through her shoulder. “You are hurting me.”

“Not near as bad as I would like.”

Corin scowled. “If she will be put to the question, leave it for the mayor’s men. It is not our place.”

“Nor is it our place to lose the wizard’s trail, nor allow smugglers of magestone to wander unmolested, and yet we have done both. I for one am tired of duties unfulfilled. And lest you forget, this one sent us on a wild chase through the Birchwood while she escaped with our quarry.”

Corin’s frown deepened, but he spoke no further. The carriages passed, and they went on.

Loren’s feet, long used to dirt and grass underfoot, soon wearied on the cobblestones. She stumbled more and more. Each time, Bern jerked her upright. Soon she began to cry out, and darkened Corin’s mood each time. But just as she thought he might speak again, they stopped.
 

Above them loomed a building fully thirty feet tall. Loren saw three rows of windows stretching across its width. She marveled at the sight. Nowhere in the Birchwood had she ever seen a building with so much as a second floor. She looked closer at the top row of windows and saw the thick steel bars that crossed them. A jail, then.
 

Two guards stood at the front door, carrying halberds tall and gleaming. As Bern drew close, one of the guards stepped forward to place his halberd across the entryway.

“Hold,” he said. “What’s this?”

“A prisoner for the cells. I am constable Bern, and this is my companion, Corin. We come from Garsec on the King’s business. Let us pass, for we have another runaway to pursue.”

“The cells are full,” said the guard. “We have no room.”

Bern’s face grew uglier. “Then take some pickpocket’s hand and loose them. Our business is urgent.”

The guard stood straighter, though still shorter than Bern, and his eyes hardened. “I take no orders from you. The master at arms has commanded that no more prisoners be brought here. Try the guardhouse in the eastern district.”

“A walk that would cost us the rest of the day,” said Bern. “We have no time.”

“My orders stand,” said the guard, seeming to root himself into the ground.

“Where is your master at arms?” said Corin in a diplomatic tone. “Perhaps we may speak with him and convey the urgency of our mission.”

The guard’s eyes flitted to the broader constable. “His quarters are upstairs. Though I doubt his mind will change, even for constables who claim to be on the King’s business.”

Bern stiffened, but Corin put a placating hand on his shoulder. “We will attempt it in any case. I will go.”

“No,” snapped Bern. “I will have words, and when I am through he will wish he had never held up the King’s justice. Take the girl.”

Loren found herself shoved into Corin’s grip, too quickly to capitalize on the situation. Bern took one of the other constables and disappeared within the building. Corin guided her to the doorway’s side. If she would ever have a chance to sway his mind, it would be now.

“Constable Corin,” she began. “I swear to you under the sky, I played no part in any scheme of the wizard’s. He abandoned me as soon as we left the Birchwood.”

Corin’s face only grew more stern. “And before? When you sent us chasing shadows? When you stole supplies to place in the wizard’s hands? You played no part in that, did you?”

Loren’s face grew hot. “I . . . I did not know what crimes he may have committed.”

“Yet you knew we pursued him. You will face the King’s justice for that, if nothing else. Now silence yourself while we find a place to keep you—for the time being.”