Reign of Shadows (18 page)

“Soon,”
he told her. “Wait until I’m finished with this.”

“What
are you doing?”

“Hush.”

The
tribesman beside him drew a long dagger from his belt and laid it carefully on
the cobblestones between them. It had a bronze blade decorated with intricate
carving worn in places. The hilt was a plain cross, long and tapering, with a
round brass knob on the end. Wrapped in fine wire, it looked very old and
nothing at all like the weapons the Neika usually carried.

“You
trade for this?” the Neika asked.

Caelan
nodded.

Beside
him, Lea tensed. He squeezed her hand to keep her quiet.

“You
give ... medicines for this dagger.”

Caelan
looked up in dismay. “But I can’t—” He caught himself, breaking off in
mid-sentence, and thought about it. His father’s herbal cabinets were kept
locked. No one but Gunder was allowed near them. Caelan thought about what his
father had tried to do to him and hardened his heart.

He
nodded. “Yes.”

“Ah.”
Looking satisfied, the Neika rocked back on his heels. He stood up, leaving the
dagger on the ground.

“But,
Caelan—”

Caelan
frowned at Lea. “Don’t say anything. This is my business.”

“But
it’s a bad thing—”

“Lea,
either keep quiet or I’m not going with you.”

She
frowned, looking hurt, and marched away.

He
stared after her, sorry to be so harsh, but he didn’t need her pestering him
right now.

He
picked up the dagger and turned it over in his hands, running his fingertips
along the flat of the blade. It didn’t come close to the dagger he’d left
behind at Rieschelhold, but it would do.

Holding
it out to its owner, he said, “I’ll bring the remedies as soon as I—”

“You
keep. We have made bargain. We go outside walls.”

Pleased
by the man’s trust, Caelan smiled and quickly tucked the knife out of sight
beneath his tunic. “Wait, and I’ll bring them to you as soon as—”

“There
is pine tree with fork in trunk,” the Neika said. “Forty strides from gate. You
know this tree?”

Caelan
had climbed in it throughout his childhood. “Of
course.”

“You
leave bundle there before nightfall. We get.”

“Agreed.”

The
tribesmen gathered themselves and headed for the gates. Raul let them out.

Caelan
stood there in the sun-drenched courtyard, glowing with pride. They had treated
him like a man. Now all he had to do was figure out how to sneak into the
storerooms of the infirmary and get what was needed without Gunder catching him.

A
tug on his sleeve interrupted his thoughts. Lea had returned, and she was
staring up at him with open disapproval. “Why do you want that horrible old
knife?”

“I
need it.” Caelan cleared his throat. “Every man needs a dagger.”

“You
are hiding yourself from me again. You trust the Neika, but not me. And now you
won’t keep your promise.”

He
bent down and gripped her by the shoulders. “Of course I’m going to keep my
promise. I need—I want to go to the ice caves with you. We’re going this
afternoon.”

Her
face lit up. “Really?”

“Yes.
You tell Anya that we want to take our lunch with us. We’ll needs lots of food
because I’m really hungry.”

“I
will. Oh, Caelan, I can’t wait. Why can’t we go now?”

“Because
I have to do some things. Run along and get ready.”

He
did his best to keep his voice light, but Lea was not easily fooled.

She
stopped jumping up and down and gripped his hand with both of hers. “Don’t
bring that dagger with you, promise?”

He
shook his head. “I’m going to carry it all the time. It’s a part of me now.”

“Don’t
say that!” she cried in genuine distress. “It’s bad; I can feel it. Long ago,
it killed. The metal is tainted with—”

“Stop
it,” he said harshly, pulling free. “You’re making this up.”

“I’m
not!” She stamped her foot. “You don’t want to listen because you’re angry at
Father. You’ve changed inside. Since the wind spirits hurt you, you’re
different.”

He
frowned. “I’ve grown up, that’s all.”

She
shook her head. “I’m just trying to help you. Throw the knife away.”

“I
need it.”

“But
it’s bad—”

“Look,”
he said impatiently, “whatever it was used for in the past has nothing to do
with what I’ll use it for. Remember that pouch Anya made for you to keep your
treasure in?”

Reluctantly
Lea nodded.

“Remember
I told you it needed a leather lacing threaded through the top so you could
hang it around your neck?”

Again
she nodded.

“So
now I can cut one for you. Knives can be used for good purposes.”

Her
face cleared for an instant, then clouded again. “But it is going to make you
steal, to pay for it. That’s a bad thing, too.”

She
could always sting his conscience. Caelan wished she’d never witnessed his
trade with the Neika.

“You’re
wrong,” he said. “I have some money. I’ll put it in Father’s earnings box to
pay for what I take. Fair enough?”

She
thought this over. “I guess so. But shouldn’t you ask him?”

“No.
And make sure you don’t mention this to anyone.

It’s
my secret, my business. You have to keep quiet. Now promise.”

Stubbornness
entered her eyes, but finally she nodded. “I promise.”

“Good.
Now run along. I have things to do before we can go play.”

She
scampered off, her bright cloak swinging around her. Caelan snorted to himself
and patted the dagger at his side. Bad luck indeed. He was making good luck for
himself with the accomplishment of each small step in his plan.

Stealing
the herbs was surprisingly easy. All he had to do was wait until Beva was
outside the house, then saunter into the workroom where Gunder was busily
inscribing recipes on parchment. He told Gunder that Beva wanted him to come at
once.

Blinking
and obedient, Gunder hurried away, leaving his pen still wet with ink and his
work scattered on the table.

Most
of the cabinets were unlocked. Pulling out a leather rucksack from beneath his
tunic, Caelan made his selections quickly, pulling out small flasks from the
rear of the rows where they were less likely to be missed.

He
selected simple concoctions for common ailments such as fever, tooth pain, wart
removal, wound cleanser, and some of the salves. Some of the supplies were low,
as though Gunder and Beva had been busy with other matters. Caelan didn’t care.
Keeping a wary lookout in case either of the two came back, he worked as
quickly as he could. When the rucksack was satisfactorily filled, he laced down
the top and slung it over his shoulder.

True
to his word, he paused by the earnings box and tried to lift the lid. It was
locked. Caelan’s mouth twisted. Trust Gunder to guard it so zealously. As
though anyone in the hold would steal.

But
even as the thought crossed his mind, he felt the tug of temptation. Better to
put his trust in money he could clench in his fist than in the hope of
receiving a gift from beneath spirits.

Caelan
hesitated, his thumb sliding across the heavy, iron-banded lid. He thought he
could pry it open with the dagger.

The
sound of approaching footsteps made him glance up.

Breathing
an oath, he ducked outside and behind the open door just in time to avoid
Gunder’s return. Peering through the crack below the hinge, Caelan saw the
assistant shaking his head in apparent puzzlement.

Caelan
frowned at him. If Gunder had only stayed away five more minutes, Caelan’s
pockets would have been full. Yes, and he’d be a true thief as well, whispered
an accusing voice in his head.

He
hurried away on silent feet. Less than a half-hour later he had filled a second
pack with warm layers of clothing, his warmest fur-lined traveling boots, a
tinderstrike, a small cooking pot filched from the kitchen earlier, and a
bundle of dried jerky taken from the larder stores. Glancing around his small,
plain room for the last time, he felt a pang of homesickness already.

Half
angrily he shook it off. This was no time to go soft.

From
a tiny casket of rosewood that had belonged to his mother, he withdrew a round
bronze mirror she had bought from the Choven many years before. It was spell
forged to conjure up anyone’s likeness on command.

Mother,
Caelan thought and watched
the cloudy surface of the mirror slowly clear. Her face so loving and kind
smiled at him briefly before fading away. He drew in a deep breath and slipped
the mirror into his pocket. He did not want to forget either his mother or
little Lea, the two people he loved most. The other item in the casket was an
old medallion of the goddess Merit, her round sunny features stamped into the
worn metal. As a child he had worn the medallion around his neck on a thong.

He
slipped it on now, breathing a small, surreptitious prayer to the goddess to
protect him. Feeling half-reassured and half-embarrassed, he kissed the
medallion and tucked it beneath his tunic. When she was alive, his mother would
never let him outside the walls without wearing it. When he went to
Rieschelhold he had left it behind, feeling too grown-up to need it. Now he
knew better.

He
put on a fur-lined tunic over his regular one, with the dagger belted on in
between the layers. For once he didn’t forget his gloves, which he tucked in
the pocket of a capacious fur cloak. Settling the garment over his shoulders,
he arranged the folds to conceal the packs and ventured outside with a fast
beating heart and a mouth dry as dust.

This
time, his escape wouldn’t fail.

Dancing
up and
down with impatience, Lea was waiting for him at the gate. A food basket stood
at her feet with a canteen lying atop it.

When
she saw Caelan coming, she began waving for him to hurry.

He
wasn’t about to do so and risk anyone glimpsing what he carried beneath his
cloak. Feeling self-conscious, Caelan crossed the courtyard, pausing only at a
barrel to take out a pair of apples for later. Slipping them into his pocket,
he grinned at Lea.

“You
took forever,” she said. “It’ll be dusk before we get there.”

“Don’t
exaggerate. We’ve plenty of time.”

He
glanced past her at Raul, who was waiting to open the gates.

“You
two be careful,” the man warned. “Out mucking around in the forest. Ain’t a
time for being too far from the walls, for all what those Neika said.”

“We’ll
be careful,” Caelan said.

“And
you be back well before twilight.”

An
involuntary shiver swept through Caelan. If all went well, he would never be
back. He frowned, wishing he could tell Raul goodbye. This man had taught him
how to ride, had saddled ponies for him, had shown him how to oil and mend lack
during long winter afternoons.

Caelan
wished he could tell all of them goodbye. Anya would never forgive him for
leaving her without a word. As for Old Farns, still unconscious in the
infirmary .. . Caelan bit his lip and stepped through the gates quickly before
he could lose his nerve.

“Wait!”
Lea called, struggling with the heavy food basket. She picked it up and dropped
it, nearly spilling its contents. “Help me with this.”

Caelan
didn’t pause. “You wanted a picnic. You bring it.”

“Caelan!”

That
time he did glance back and had to laugh at her dragging the food basket. It
made a wavy furrow in the snow. Raul shut the gates with a casual wave, and
Caelan’s heart clenched inside him.