Ruby Guardian (27 page)

The girl subtly pocketed the piece of jewelry then rose to her feet. She turned to face Grozier. “Go to hell,” she said with the most conviction she’d ever felt about anything in her life. Around her, everyone gasped.

“I’ll see you there,” Grozier sneered, but Emriana

had already turned away, and was walking out of the room. “Guards, make sure she leaves the premises at once,” he ordered.

“Em, no!” Ladara called out. “Come back! You mustn’t do this!”

The girl ignored them all, though the pain in her mother’s voice made her cringe. She realized she had come to despise the woman’s timorous nature, but she nonetheless felt self-loathing for hurting Ladara. The woman was, after all, her mother.

You can’t help her right now, she admonished herself. You must save yourself, first.

‘ With those words to bolster her courage, Emriana hurried out, practically sprinting to her own room. The guards behind her began to trot to keep up.

If Grozier has his way, I won’t even be able to take any belongings, Emriana thought, won’t get much opportunity to pack.

In her room, the girl slipped on a different pair of boots, discarding the single one she had on her foot. Then she snatched up a satchel and threw an extra outfit inside. She also dug a pouch of coins out from a cubbyhole in the back of a drawer in her dresser. She was just turning to exit when a box on her bed caught her eye.

It was the set of daggers Xaphira had given her. There were still two inside.

Emriana could hear Grozier down the hall, shouting at the two guards to bodily remove the girl. She glanced at the doorway, where the two guards stood, hesitating to enter a lady’s chambers uninvited. Before they could overcome their sense of propriety and cross the threshold, Emriana snatched up the box, stuffed it in the satchel, and turned toward her balcony.

“Get her out of here, right now!” Grozier said from right behind the two guards. “She gets nothing!”

Emriana didn’t wait to see if the house guards would jump to their work or not. She darted outside, onto the tiled porch where the smell of blossoms always hung thick in the air, and scrambled down the steps to the grassy expanse below. She heard the sound of footsteps on the tiles behind her and knew that Grozier had ordered the guards to follow her until she was well and truly off the property.

From the lawn, she scurried around the house, through an orchard, and down a side path to the main one leading to the front gate. Once she was there—still followed at a discreet distance by the pair of House Matrell guards—she slipped her hand inside her pocket and slid the ring onto her finger.

Grandmother? She projected. Is it really you? Are you truly there?

Yes, child, Hetta replied. I’m here.

Oh, Hetta! Emriana silently exclaimed, burbling with both excitement and trepidation all at the same time. What happened? You died!

All is not as it seems, Hetta replied. Magic can do strange and wondrous things, and we Matrells have access to our share of it. I have worn that enchanted ring fora long time. In the event of my death, my spirit would be drawn into the ring, rather than away to the afterlife. I’m a stubborn old bird and have no intention of leaving things unfinished. I’m here with you, and will remain so for as long as you need me, until we settle this.

Now. Something has happened to Marga, to the twins. I don’t know what, yet, but I sense deception. Grozier is up to something, and Marga is not acting herself Where is Xaphira?

Emriana’s heart ached. I don’t know, she confessed. She disappeared last night. I was attacked, nearly drowned. I tried to contact her with my pendant, once last night, once this morning, but she would

not answer. She could feel anguish radiate from the presence inside her.

That is truly wretched news, Hetta said solemnly. But we have no time for that now. Xaphira’s a strong girl. She’ll survive without our help for the time being.

I hope so, Emriana thought.

Yes, that is all we can do for the moment. Hope. Right now, we must get away, seek help. I want you to go to the Darowdryn estate. We need their help. I have a lot to tell you along the way.

Grandmother Hetta?

What is it, child?

Did you know that Vambran and Kovrim are lost at sea?

Yes, the woman said, with a kindness and warmth that made Emriana want to cry. But do not believe it. Grozier Talricci is a snake filled with lies. Vambran and Kovrim may very well be alive. If they can, they’ll get word to us.

My pendant! Emriana thought. I can reach them with my pendant!

Before Emriana had a chance to do that, however, a voice calling her name got her attention. It was Mirolyn, hurrying down the path toward the front gate. Emriana was almost to the end of the path, was almost prepared to step outside of her family home for perhaps the very last time. She turned back to the young woman, only a few years older than she.

“I have a message for you,” Mirolyn said breathlessly as she caught up to Emriana. “My mother says to tell you that she remembers where she once heard the name `Roundface.’”

Emriana turned to face Mirolyn, her heart filling with newfound hope. “Well?” she said, thinking that the news could be a lead to finding Xaphira. “Where?”

Mirolyn took a deep breath and said, “Her sister used to talk about a little boy where she worked, a youngster, the son of a courtier named Blackcrown. All the serving staff nicknamed him Roundface, because he had such chubby cheeks. ‘Little Roundface,’ they all used to call him. She doesn’t know what the child’s real first name was, but she thought that might help. Blackcrown, she said, and she was very certain.”

Emriana tried to keep from sounding exasperated when she asked, “And where did your mother’s sister work?”

“Oh, sorry,” Mirolyn said, blushing. “It was at the Generon. She was a maid at the Lord’s Palace.”

ambran sat peering through the bars of the

cage, watching the druids at work on the

rock shelf beyond. The five other soldiers imprisoned with him lounged quietly, some of them sleeping. None of them were fettered any longer, having worked together to remove the rope bonds around wrists and ankles. The hardwood saplings holding them in place within the shallow cave were another matter.

“You are a long way from home, mercenary,” the woman with the piercing green eyes said, approaching the cave and looking through the bars at Vambran. “We do not see many of the Order of the Sapphire Crescent here.”

Vambran returned her stare curiously. “I’m surprised that you know of our order,” he replied. “Though we are not here by choice in any event.”

The woman raised an eyebrow. “Truly?” she said, sounding skeptical. “Do not all men come here to the shadows of the Nunwood to fight their fights for others? Do the idle rich of the cities not pay you to wage their wars for them out here, where the killing won’t stain their precious cities with so much blood?”

Vambran began to shake his head. “Many do, but the Crescents do not.”

“You are a soldier,” she said, “and you fight at the direction of others. Reth or Hlath, Arrabar or more distant cities, it is always the same.”

Vambran gave the woman a level look. “If you’re so convinced that we’re all alike, then why did your people bring us here, rather than simply kill us where they found us?”

“I have asked myself that question, too,” the woman said, giving Vambran a peculiar smile that was a little unnerving. “Edilus thought perhaps that you could be ransomed for prisoners held by the enemy army. He saw the value in holding you, with your three dots.”

Vambran blinked, having nearly forgotten that he bore the three symbols of reading, writing, and magic upon his forehead. “He thought I would be valuable to the enemy,” the lieutenant reasoned.

“Yes. I told him that we would not negotiate with the mercenaries, that the Emerald Enclave did not parlay. Those of our order who are taken are considered dead and grieved for. He was not happy with my decision.”

“Why?”

“Because his brother was among those taken,” the woman replied. “I told him we would avenge his brother by spilling the blood of many soldiers again tonight.”

Those words were uttered with such force, such finality, that for a moment, Vambran could only stare

at the woman across from him. Her intensely emerald eyes blazed with a primal fire, and he knew beyond a doubt she meant every bit of it.

Vambran was going to try, anyway. “It doesn’t have to be that way,” he said, hoping she would see his own earnestness as sincere. “I can help you find a more peaceful solution. My soldiers and I have no quarrel with the Emerald Enclave. Indeed, we work toward similar goals. If you resign us to this cage, then a resource you have at your disposal will be wasted.”

The woman laughed, but it was a bitter laughter, without mirth. “A resource. I would expect nothing less from a priest of the Merchant’s Friend. The world simply is, it exists. ‘Resource’ is but a word your kind uses to measure what you wish to make your own. I do not acknowledge your notion of resources. Here, in the woods, everything belongs to all beings, and no one takes more than he needs right then, right there. I drink from the stream, yet there is still plenty of water for others, both downstream from me and those who would come later to the same spot I did to drink. The stream, the water, is not a resource; it dwells as an integral part of nature. You and your resources are laughable.”

Vambran’s jaw clenched in anger and frustration. “And you and your ilk seem so determined to belittle others’ ways of life, though not all who walk a different world than yours subvert your ideals so robustly,” he said, raising his voice at the woman. She blinked and sat back ever so slightly. Vambran doubted she had been spoken to in such a manner in a very long time. “I was born and raised in a city of merchants, and it is the life I know. To expect me to abandon all that I was groomed for because you see your way of life as superior to mine is both short-sighted and arrogant.

“I would not presume to tell you that you should leave the woods behind forever and come dwell in

the city. It is not your element. You, having most likely never been to Arrabar, would not be at ease there. You would not be able to find your way from street to street. The first cart vendor you came upon would most likely rob you blind and convince you it was a bargain. But these shortcomings do not make me a better person than you. I would not see myself as superior because I better understand the life I lead than you do. Why must you view me that way? Our paths may be different, but our values are not necessarily so separated. Though I may not care and nourish the forest as the Enclave does, that does not mean I cannot appreciate the work that you do, that I cannot value your ideals.”

The woman sat and stared at Vambran for a long time. All around the great platform, no one said a thing; indeed, none of the other wood folk present were doing anything at all. They had all stopped their work at the mercenary’s outburst. Vambran wondered if that was because of the passion in his words or because they were awestruck that he had the audacity to challenge the woman so.

At that moment, the pair’s conversation was interrupted by a messenger arriving atop the platform. The woman turned away from the cage and moved ‘to the new arrival. Together, they squatted down near the fire and began to converse in low voices.

Vambran turned and looked at the other five mercenaries. “I keep thinking that she looks familiar. But I’ve never been in the Nunwood before.”

“Aye,” Adyan drawled, “I was thinking the same thing. Can’t quite place it, though. Do you suppose we’ve fought against her before?”

“I remember her face, too, but I don’t think it was on the field of battle,” Horial added. “But if we all three think we know her, then there’s something to it.”

Vambran started to nod, but before he got the words out, a disembodied voice began to speak to him. Vambran, are you alive? It was Emriana. Something’s happened to Xaphira and Hetta, and Grozier has taken over the House. Please answer me, Vam. You can’t be dead!

At his sister’s startling revelation, Vambran rocked upright, stunned. He found it difficult to breathe. Shaking his head, he formulated an answer.

It’s all right, Em. It’s a lie. Uncle Kovrim and I are still alive. I’ll come to you as soon as I can. Be safe.

He felt the connection break off at that point, and he wanted to shout at the top of his lungs in frustration. There was so much he needed to tell his sister.

“Emriana’s in trouble,” he said to the confused faces gathered around him. “Something’s happened at home.” He wanted to pound his fist against the stone wall of the shallow cave. “Grozier Talricci is in control, and Xaphira and Hetta—” and he stopped himself, feeling his throat constrict in sorrow and worry. “I have to get back to them,” he said. “Em needs me.” Then he closed his eyes in anguish. “But so do the men. I’ve got to get out of here!” he snarled, grabbing at the bars and shaking them.

A shadow fell across Vambran’s eyes, and he looked up to find the woman standing over him, on the other side of the bars. Behind her, the camp had sprung to life, bustling with activity. He did not understand the portent of that, but he did not care. He had to get out. The lieutenant began to speak, to plead for his release so that he could save both his family and his followers, but he snapped his mouth shut again without uttering a word when he saw the look on the woman’s face.

There was a very dangerous glint in her eyes.

She looked at Vambran and the others coldly as she said, “Soldiers have slain nearly every member of our order that they captured. They have bloodied the Emerald Enclave, asking for war. Now they will have it. And they will get more than they ever bargained for.” She turned to go.

“Wait,” Vambran said, willing her to reconsider. “My offer stands. Let us help you.”

The woman turned back, rage clear on her face. “Rot in there,” she said with a growl. “The Enclave does not negotiate.”

11 II II

“Vambran’s alive!” Emriana practically shouted. “He answered me!” For the first time that day, she actually smiled. It felt good, knowing that at least part of what Grozier Talricci had told her was a lie. Her conversation with Vambran had given Emriana more relief than she could have imagined, and she began to feel some sense of hope again.