Path of Fate (15 page)

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Authors: Diana Pharaoh Francis

Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General

BOOK: Path of Fate
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She forced herself to speak loudly and imperiously, feeling herself cringe inside.
“I have my orders,” he began again, but Reisil stopped him.
“Your orders don’t apply to
ahalad-kaaslane
. And I am
ahalad-kaaslane
.” She lifted her arm and called to Saljane, who hopped off the wall and floated down to settle on Reisil’s stiff wrist. She waited, staring up at the bemused Leidiik, her arm cramping as she fought to hold Saljane steady. Like everyone else, he’d participated in the endless speculation about the goshawk’s choice. Confronted with Reisil, he hardly knew what to do. He rubbed a thick hand over his chin.
“All right. But you’re going to go directly to Varitsema and I’m sending an escort with you.” He signaled to open the gates.
Reisil nodded and transferred Saljane to her shoulder. The inset pedestrian gate swung open a bare crack and she scraped through. Guards met her, closing around her in a loose circle. She stopped, waiting. Leidiik descended the zigzagging stairway.
“I’ll take you myself,” he announced. Reisil nodded and followed.
The streets of Kallas were eerily empty. Woodsmoke curling from chimneys gave the only evidence that the town was inhabited.
“Inside, by order of the mayor and council,” Leidiik said, when Reisil asked where everyone was. “And they’re making house-to-house searches. If the Vadonis girl is here, they’ll find her.”
“Who could have taken her?” Reisil wondered aloud, curious about Leidiik’s opinion. He was an experienced soldier. He’d fought the Patversemese in the early years of the war, returning to Kallas with a pike wound through his shoulder. He’d recovered eventually, and gone into service to the town. He had a lot of reason to hate the Patversemese, Reisil mused. It would be useful for kidnappers to have someone at the gate.
Was
Ceriba still in Kallas?
“I’ll tell you what I think,” Leidiik said after a moment, weighing his words. “I think that this kidnapping was well planned. Which means no matter what the council wants to believe, the girl isn’t likely to still be in Kallas. Unless she’s dead, which isn’t likely. More leverage if she’s alive. Kidnappers would’ve had an escape route well established, and that means a way out of Kallas.” Which meant at least one guard was in on the plot. Leidiik sucked his teeth and spat and Reisil knew that the idea that one of his fellow guards might have betrayed the town left a bad taste in his mouth.
“My guess is they put her on the river and she’s leagues away by now and getting farther away by the moment. That kind of execution requires a lot of people—from both Kallas and Patverseme.” He glanced at Reisil, blue eyes grave. “People you wouldn’t ordinarily suspect. But there’s a lot of folks in Kallas that don’t want to see Kodu Riik get into bed with Patverseme. I doubt the Patversemese are happy about it either. The Dure Vadonis has a lot of enemies at home and in Kodu Riik he’s got a lot more. Remember the saying: The enemy of my enemy is my friend. I think that there’s been another, temporary treaty, one written in blood. I think you’re about to step into a nest of vipers and you’re not going to know who your friends are. If I were going to give a raw
ahalad-kaaslane
a piece of advice, I’d tell her to walk softly and trust no one until they can prove to you that they had nothing to do with taking the girl.”
“Not even you?”
He shook his head. “I know what I’ve been up to, but you don’t. You know I was in the war, you know I have a reason to hate the Patversemese. But I don’t truck with cowards who steal girls. If I’m going to pick a fight, I’m going to do it face-to-face. But I could be lying. Don’t let your emotions for me or anyone else cloud your judgment. That’s the reason why the
ahaladkaaslane
don’t get to call any place home. Can’t afford to get too attached to anyone—or to hate anyone too deeply.”
“At least I can trust the other
ahalad-kaaslane,
” Reisil said confidently, though she thought of Juhrnus and wondered.
“Can you? If you thought that this treaty was a horrible mistake for Kodu Riik, wouldn’t you do something to stop it? Wouldn’t you be obligated to? I’m not saying that any were involved, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”
Reisil fell silent, a cold knot settling in the pit of her stomach. Leidiik’s argument made sense. Too much sense.
“What makes you think they’ve taken her out of Kallas?” Reisil asked him finally.
“Isn’t any reason to keep her here, and a lot more to get out. They have to buy time to get the war going again. Messages have to be sent to Koduteel and Vitne Ozols. Then councils have to be called, and armies have to be mobilized. It all takes time. That’s the good news: You’ve got a little maneuvering room to find her before everything falls apart. They’ll keep her alive for now, trying to figure out how best to use her. But sooner or later they’ll have to kill her. She knows who they are and getting caught is sure death. That’s the bad news: You’ve got time to find her, but you’re already running out of time. No dispatches have been sent yet, but when they’ve turned Kallas upside down, you can bet your teeth it’s going to get ugly.”
They had arrived outside Varitsema’s villa. Patversemese and Kallas guards surrounded the place. Leidiik ignored them all and walked straight up to the door. One of the Patversemese soldiers stepped in front of him, face belligerent.
“This house is off-limits.”
Leidiik straightened, his bull neck tightening. “The
ahalad-kaaslane
go where they please in Kodu Riik. And she wants to go inside.”
The guard eyed Reisil over Leidiik’s shoulder and spat. Saljane mantled and gave her strident cry. It echoed along the deserted street.
“My orders are that no unauthorized personnel are allowed.” Reisil sidled past Leidiik before he could respond. She stood toe-to-toe with the Patversemese guardsman.
“Quite right. But I
am
authorized. I am
ahaladkaaslane
and I am in Kodu Riik. So I go where I please. I please to go inside. I suggest you step aside, or there’s going to be a brawl.” Reisil met his sneering gaze squarely. Inside she trembled. It was though she had donned a mask. If he pushed any more, tore it aside—they would all know she was faking this bravado. A brawl? She’d be bowled over in a matter of seconds. Fight? Never in her life had she so much as slapped anyone. Not even Juhrnus.
The Kallas guardsmen had begun to gather around, eyeing their Patversemese counterparts with patent loathing. Reisil clutched her shaking hands together. She glared at the guardsman, praying to the Lady that he’d back down. At last he stepped back and pounded on the door with his fist. Reisil felt weak at the knees with relief.
“You can go in,” he said to her. “But not him.”
Reisil turned to Leidiik. “I’ll remember what you said.”
He nodded and gave her a salute. “Good luck,
ahaladkaaslane
. May the Blessed Lady smile on you and Kodu Riik.” He marched off, returning to his post. Reisil entered Varitsema’s villa. The door swung shut behind her with a thump. Patversemese guards in the lobby eyed her coldly, but said nothing. Varitsema’s steward, a thin, harriedlooking man, gave her a short bow, staring at Saljane with wide eyes.
“Follow me. This way.” He led her up a flight of stairs and down a corridor. It was a very plain house, Reisil noted, though peaceful and cool. Moss-green tiles lined the floors, and the walls were painted creamy white above a honey-colored wainscoting. She caught a glimpse of bright-colored paintings and tapestries before the steward stopped at a set of double doors and knocked softly. The door opened and he spoke to someone within. The door closed and they waited for a few moments. The steward shifted back and forth, running a finger around the top of the wainscoting,
tsk
ing to himself. He brushed the dust from his hands and flashed a nervous look at Reisil. Saljane ruffled her feathers and the little man started. The door opened again and the steward motioned for Reisil to enter.
~
Here we go. Are you ready for this?
Saljane’s reply broke over Reisil like a drowning wave. No words, just animal ferocity, hunger for the enemy, willingness to rend, tear and kill.
Reisil faltered in the threshold, caught herself and continued on. The door closed behind with the echo of a tomb. She resisted the urge to turn and hammer on it.
Ceriba,
she reminded herself.
And war. You are
ahaladkaaslane.
However much you fought it, you must behave as such now.
She heard Elutark’s voice in her mind.
You are what you pretend to be.
Silence met her. Stares of wonder, of cold shock and antagonism. Reisil scanned the room. It was Varitsema’s library. Books lined the walls. Comfortably cushioned chairs upholstered in his own colorful weavings and climbing plants filled one end of the room. His desk stood at the other, framed behind by a window looking out over his garden courtyard. Varitsema stood behind the desk, frowning. Across from him stood the Dure Vadonis, grief and rage lining his haggard face. In a cloistered nook behind him, his wife sat still, face closed, lips set in a flat line, a dark veil covering her hair. Desperation flickered in her eyes. Kebonsat held her hand, his expression a match for his father’s.
Next came the town leaders, Rikutud, Imeilus, Taktitu, Raim, Roheline, a few others. Then Upsakes with his weirmart snuggled around his neck. Four of the Dure Vadonis’s knights clustered together, wearing chain mail and looking like hounds slavering to be after their quarry. Finally there was the Kvepi Buris in his scarlet robes. He alone appeared unruffled, either by the kidnapping or Reisil’s sudden entrance. Still, his gaze on her felt like a white-hot poker thrusting between her ribs. She flinched and turned away, but not before she saw him smirk.
The silence continued and the anxiety knotting in Reisil’s stomach grew until she thought she might throw up on Varitsema’s wild-rose carpet.
Remember what you are.
Ahalad-kaaslane
do not throw up because they are scared,
she told herself for the second time in an hour. Upsakes moved first.
“Greetings, Reisil,” he said, coming forward. Reisil couldn’t read his feelings in his face or tone of voice, but she noticed the removal of
tark
from the end of her name. “I see your
ahalad-kaaslane
has found you.”
Greetings, but no welcome. Acknowledgment, but no congratulations. Fair enough. She’d flouted her fate and fought bonding with Saljane, succumbing only under duress. If she wanted more than cool civility, she’d have to earn it.
“The other
ahalad-kaaslane
are helping in the search for the Dure’s daughter,” he continued. Reisil knew what was coming next. She should go help them, make herself useful, get out of the way.
“I serve better here,” she said in a low voice that brooked no argument. Upsakes’s nostrils flared, a white line bracketing his lips. He glanced past her to the watching room. He nodded curtly, gesturing for her to take a place next to him.
An important skill for tarks was the ability to watch and listen, to make sense of disorder and confusion. So Reisil watched, remembering Leidiik’s caution to trust no one.
The quiet produced by her entrance came to a crashing end as the Dure Vadonis pounded Varitsema’s desk. “I want my daughter returned,” he demanded. “Now. Or I’ll take this town apart and raze it to the ground.”
Varitsema raised his hands placatingly. “We all sympathize with your pain. And we are searching for her. We will find her. The city is sealed—no one can come or go.” His eyes flickered to Reisil and back. “It is difficult to wait, I know, but if you have patience, we will find her.”
Reisil frowned. Was the entire search predicated on the assumption that Ceriba was still in Kallas? She thought of Leidiik’s words. He’d made sense. She glanced around at the worried faces. One of these people, all of these people, could be involved. It would suit their purposes to keep the search inside of Kallas until Ceriba was long out of reach.
Her glance shifted to Raim and Roheline, whose linked hands were white knuckled. She couldn’t believe that they could have any part in this. Trust no one, Leidiik told her. But she had to trust
someone
.
Her gaze snagged on Kebonsat. He stared at her, eyes blistering. Behind his hatred she could see a terrible, leaching pain. She remembered how his face had softened when he’d smiled at his sister in the kohv-house.
She felt time slipping past and thought of the swift-flowing waters of the Sadelema. A boat could go leagues in a very short space. Already the sun was sinking. No substantive search outside the walls could begin until the morning. By then the kidnappers could have Ceriba so far out of reach that any search would be fruitless.
~
Saljane, how far can you fly and still hear me?
~
Far.
Far enough? Reisil wondered if Saljane’s short responses were characteristic of the bird’s personality, or if they stemmed from her earlier rejection of their bond.
Time will tell,
she thought.
She slipped from Upsakes’s side and went over to the tall glass doors leading out onto a balcony. Varitsema broke off what he’d been saying and everyone turned to watch. Reisil lifted Saljane down from her aching shoulder.
~
Follow the river.
She brought an image of Ceriba into her mind and projected it at Saljane.
~
Seek Ceriba.
Eagerness. The Hunt.
Reisil swung her arm and Saljane leaped into the air, her wings pumping powerfully. She sped upward until she was nothing more than a speck, then nothing at all. Reisil watched the sky for a long moment, then returned to the library, color burning high in her cheeks.
“Just in case you’re wrong,” she said to Varitsema.
“Just in case her kidnappers found a way out past the guards last night. Saljane will find her.”
Chapter 6
T
he silence that met her statement was like an indrawn breath, pregnant, apprehensive. Reisil felt her face burning and her stomach clenched. Varitsema’s gaze thrust through her like knives. Still she held her ground, chin outthrust, arms straight at her sides.

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