Progeny (The Children of the White Lions) (25 page)

BOOK: Progeny (The Children of the White Lions)
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Curious for Kenders’ reaction, Nikalys turned to examine his sister. She had never come with them during the annual harvest trip. Fallsbottom was no place for an attractive young woman.

Standing on the crest of the overlook, Kenders stared at the dual cities for the first time, her eyes a fraction wider than normal, her mouth hanging open. Nikalys could not help but smile. She looked like a rock lizard lying in wait.

“Trying to catch a fly, sis?”

While Kenders did not respond immediately, a low grumbling sound caused her—along with Nikalys and Jak—to stare at Broedi. The normally taciturn hillman was actually chuckling.

After a few moments, he noticed their stares. Raising a single eyebrow, he rumbled, “Yes?”

Kenders said, “I didn’t think you could laugh.”

“I can,” said Broedi, looking back to Hilltop. “Until now, none of you have said anything humorous.”

Nikalys grinned a bit at the small jest, as did Kenders. Even Jak, still sullen and distant, cracked a reluctant smile. Catching Nikalys staring at him, Jak tilted his head to the side and studied his brother for a moment before looking back to the city.

Nikalys frowned. He wanted to know had happened last night, but his questions could wait a little longer. He and Jak were heading into Smithshill alone.

After returning last evening, Broedi had wanted to discuss today’s plan with Nikalys and Kenders. Jak stayed on the camp’s edge throughout the conversation, his back to them. He pretended to sleep, but Nikalys knew better. He had shared a room with Jak for years; he knew when his brother was sleeping.

Kenders and Nikalys shared with Broedi their proposal: Nikalys and Jak go to the Constables while Kenders stayed with him. He agreed to the plan, no questions asked.

While the brothers went to Hilltop, Broedi and Kenders were to head into Fallsbottom and straight through, doing their best to remain unnoticed. Nikalys wondered exactly how the seven-foot-tall hillman planned to move clandestinely through the city. The pair would travel south and, after a few miles, head off the road and wait for Nikalys and Jak.

The brothers were to go straight to the Office of the Constables and report a slightly modified version of what had happened at Yellow Mud. After, they would hurry down to Fallsbottom, purchase traveling supplies—including three horses—and head south. Once they were a few miles out of the city, they would use their mother’s necklace to find Kenders. Broedi promised them it was perfectly safe, explaining that the magic of the necklace was only noticeable from close by and while in use.

If everything went smoothly, they would all be back together by evening. There had not been much discussion about what would happen after that, although Nikalys planned to ask Broedi to leave. They had not heard a wolf in three nights. The Shapechanger’s presence was no longer necessary.

The quartet stood on the slope west of Hilltop as Broedi reviewed everything one last time before everyone said his or her goodbyes. After Nikalys gave Kenders a hug and kiss on her forehead, he pulled away and looked at Jak. “Ready?”

Jak stood a few paces away, his gaze locked on them both. He had done a lot of staring this morning.

With a decisive nod and quick sigh, he moved to Kenders, wrapped her in a long hug, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. Taking a step back, he looked her in the eye, and said, “I love you more than you know, Kenders.” His voice was husky, his words choked with emotion.

Kenders appeared a bit perplexed by the sudden display of affection—Nikalys certainly was—and, with mock seriousness, said, “I love you, too, dearest brother of my heart.” Giving him one of her dazzling smiles, she smacked him on the chest. “Now, go. I’ll see you later.”

Jak’s expression lightened some, and with a soft pat on the top of her head, he turned to face Broedi. Neither of them said a word, but the grim, serious look that passed between the pair said quite a bit.

The brothers set off down the hill, aiming for the fork in the road. Broedi and Kenders were to follow a short while later on their own, a suggestion made by the hillman. He had pointed out that two people emerging from the woods when a perfectly good road was so near might draw less attention than four would.

Nikalys and Jak picked their path carefully down the hillside, avoiding loose dirt and rock. Halfway down, Nikalys noticed that Jak was not carrying the long, leather case. Curious, he turned around and saw it slung over Broedi’s shoulder. Kenders waved, apparently thinking that he was looking back at her. He waved back, but was left wondering about that case.

Neither of them said a word as they made their way to the road. They slipped into the line of carts and wagons moving toward Hilltop and walked behind a creaking, four-wheeled wagon drawn by four bays. Thankfully, the dust kicked up by the wagon was blown south, over the cliff. Thaddeus had said the strong breeze had something to do with the cooling effect of the waterfall. The temperature in Fallsbottom was pleasant even though the constant mist was not.

As they walked, Nikalys glanced at his brother a number of times, worried. Jak was the jester of the family, even more so than their father had been. This dark, silent mood was unnatural. It was like watching a hawk trudge down a road. Hawks were supposed to fly.

Hoping to start a conversation, Nikalys asked, “So, do you think the air in Hilltop will smell different?”

Jak turned to regard Nikalys with haunted eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“Remember what Father used to say about Hilltop?” Imitating father’s voice as best he could, Nikalys said, “The air in Hilltop reeks of conceit.”

A rueful, sad grin spread across Jak’s lips and he mumbled, “Yeah, I remember.”

His gaze shifted forward, affixing itself to the empty wagon in front of them and the uncomfortable silence returned, broken only by creaking wagon wheels, thudding horse hooves, and mumbled chatter of cart drivers. Nikalys sighed and stared ahead, too.

After a while, Jak broke the silence. “You truly loved Mother and Father, didn’t you?”

Nikalys might have stopped in the middle of the road had there not been a moving horse cart behind them. “What kind of question is that? Of course I did. I still do.”

He wondered what would have possessed his brother to ask such a brainless question.

Jak nodded, his face filled with anguish. “Sure, I mean, I knew that. I just…” He trailed off and let out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair. Reaching over, he out his hand on Nikalys’ shoulder and squeezed tight, so tight that Nikalys winced. “Hey, I’m sorry if I’ve been a little glum since last night.”

Eyebrows raised, Nikalys gave his brother a lopsided smile. “A
little
glum?”

“Yeah, I know,” sighed Jak. “I’m sorry.”

“No matter,” said Nikalys, waving away the apology. “I’m just glad I don’t have to visit the Constables with a sour-faced grump.”

Smiling, Jak said, “I promise to be full of joy, laughter, and boundless mirth from this point on.”

Nikalys rolled his eyes. Jak was back.

A few steps down the road later, Nikalys looked over and asked, “What exactly happened last night? You two were gone for a long time.”

“Ah…Broedi just wanted to give me some hunting tips.”

“Hunting tips? That’s the story you’re going with?”

Jak stared to the north and the shining surface of Lake Hawthorne. “It’s not a story if it’s the truth.”

Jak was a terrible liar. When they were younger, any time their parents had caught the brothers doing something mischievous, they would question Jak, knowing the quickest way to the truth was via Jak’s fibs.

Eying his brother’s head, Nikalys said, “Come on, Jak. The truth. What did Broedi say to you to get you all upset?”

Jak remained quiet, continuing to peer northward, staring at a pair of ships drifting closer to the Hilltop docks.

“Jak! Answer me!”

Jak mused, “How many ships do you think come here in a day?”

Letting out frustrated sigh, Nikalys dropped the topic and faced forward. While it was clear that Jak was not going to tell him, the reason why was not. Yesterday, Jak did not trust Broedi. Today, he was seemingly choosing the hillman over his brother. It was baffling.

They walked the rest of the way in silence.

A short while later, the wagon ahead of them slowed to a stop. Peeking around the left side, they discovered they were in a line of halted traffic. Two men in red and black uniforms stood on opposite sides of the road, stopping everyone who was trying to enter the city.

“Hells,” muttered Jak. “Broedi didn’t mention there would be guards.”

“What should we tell them?”

“How about the truth? We’re here to report what happened to Yellow Mud.”

“No. They might hold us and we’d never make it to the Constables. We could be stuck here for who knows how long.”

“Good point,” muttered Jak with a frown. After a moment’s pause, he asked, “Do we turn around?”

“No. We need to report this.”

“What do we say?”

“I don’t know. Any ideas?”

“No. But whatever we come up with, you get to do all the talking.”

“Me?” asked Nikalys, looking over at Jak.

“We both know it’s for the best. I’ll say three words and they’ll mark me as a liar.”

The line was moving quickly. Nodding in agreement, Nikalys said, “Fine, I’ll talk. But about what?” Facing forward, he eyed the Red Sentinel guards, trying to come up with a credible story that would get them past without much trouble. “Hey, what was the name of that soldier who stopped you on the road? The nobleman’s son?”

Jak thought a moment before answering. “Haynes, I think.”

Nikalys nodded. “Good.” Only one wagon separated them from the guards. Lowering his voice, he murmured, “Agree with whatever I say. And look threatening.”

Jak looked over, his eyes filled with uncertainty. “Look threatening? Why?”

“Just do it,” mumbled Nikalys. “Pretend you’re like the men in The Brown Horse and Cart.” The inn had been where they stayed during their annual trip to Smithshill.

Jak appeared doubtful, but nodded nonetheless. “Rude and crude. I suppose I can manage that.”

They went quiet as the wagon in front of them reached the checkpoint. The driver showed a well-worn parchment to the guard on the left. The soldier barely looked at it before waving the wagon past.

Nikalys and Jak shuffled behind and stopped when the Red Sentinel on the left told them to halt. The man was in his mid-twenties, with deep-set eyes and reddish-brown hair sticking out from under his silver domed helmet. He spoke, his tone emotionless and bored. “Passes, please.”

Assuming the brutish attitude of a Fallsbottom tough, Nikalys said, “No passes.”

The soldier looked them over, frowned, and said, “Well, then, you aren’t getting in. Get back to Fallsbottom and wallow in the mud.”

This was not off to a good start.

Committing to the show, Nikalys took a step closer to the soldier and said, “Look. I need to get into Hilltop.”

Grimacing, the soldier said, “I hope to pay a visit to a bath house.”

Ignoring the insult, Nikalys said, “No. We’re here to talk to someone. A Sentinel by the name of Haynes. You know him?”

The soldier’s eyes narrowed a bit. “Perhaps.”

“Yeah, well, he owes us some coin. And he hasn’t paid up.”

“He owes
you
coin? How?”

“He thinks he’s better at knuckles than he is.”

A smirk spread over the soldier’s face. “That sounds like Haynes. He is—” He cut off quickly and then shook his head. “Not my problem, that’s what he is. Take your business to him.”

The other guard was crossing the road, a curious expression on his face as he motioned the traffic behind the brothers to wait. The driver of the next horse-cart shouted something in response, which earned him hard looks from both soldiers. Shutting his mouth, the man settled lower in his seat while muttering to himself.

The second soldier stopped beside the first and asked, “What’s this about?”

The first guard pointed at Nikalys and Jak, saying, “They want to see Haynes. Says he owes them a gambling debt.”

The new arrival beamed. “Does he now? I didn’t know the brat had the guts to gamble with Fallsbottom folk.”

“He’s got the guts to think he doesn’t have to pay when he loses,” said Nikalys. “He’s had a turn to pay, and today we intend to collect.”

The second soldier said, “Well, as much as we’d like to watch that, Haynes is on patrol. Come back in a few days. They’ll be back then.”

“Not good enough,” said Nikalys with an emphatic shake of his head. “I told him that if he didn’t pay up by today, I was going to his father and demand the coin from him!”

A grin as wide as Lake Hawthorne spread over the second Red Sentinel’s face. “You want to go to the baron for his son’s gambling debt?”

Nodding, Nikalys said, “I sure as the Nine Hells do.”

The guards glanced at one another, chuckled, stepped aside. “Go right on in. Just stop by when you leave. I want to know how red the baron’s face turned.”

“Agreed,” said Nikalys. He glanced at Jak and nodded at the city. “Let’s go.”

With a grunt and a nod, Jak followed Nikalys past the amused Sentinels. Once they were out of the guards’ earshot, he looked over and muttered, “You’re a better actor than I.”

Nikalys glanced over and smiled. “A cow is a better actor than you.” As Jak chuckled at the jest, Nikalys added, “Perhaps I should become a playman.”

“Sour idea,” said Jak. “You wouldn’t be very successful.”

“Why not?”

With a wink, Jak said, “Every playman I’ve seen is handsome.”

Nikalys grinned and slapped his brother, heading into Hilltop proper for the first time. Two dozen steps in and Nikalys felt like a duckling in a nest of redbirds.

The men bustling about Hilltop wore dark, loose-fitting pants, shiny leather boots, and brightly colored shirts that were billowy at the shoulder and pinched at the elbow, making the upper arms puffy and exceedingly impractical. The women walked about in long, lightweight dresses, the sashes around their waists a contrasting color to the dress they wore: yellow on cobalt, sky blue on ruby red. The vivid colors were thrice as garish against the bright whiteness of the limestone buildings.

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