Herbalists had come to him, and Pratcus had worked more spells over him. He would survive, they all agreed, but it would be some time before he even had the strength to return to the Vaasan Gate, and it would likely be tendays before he could lift his sword again.
"Athrogate?" Calihye asked.
"A filthy little wretch."
"If he heard you say that, he'd crush your skull," the woman replied. "The finest fighter at the wall, so it was said, and there's more than a little magic in those morning stars he swings so cleverly."
"Strength of arm is one thing. Strength of heart another. Has one so fine ever thought to enlist in the Army of Bloodstone?"
"By serving at the wall, he serves the designs of King Gareth," Calihye reminded.
Flat on his back, Davis Eng lifted a trembling hand and waved that notion away.
Calihye persisted. "How many monster ears has he delivered to your Commander Ellery, then? And those of giants, too. Not many can lay claim to felling a giant in single combat, but it's one that Athrogate all too easily brandishes."
"And how do you know he was alone? He's got that skinny friend of his—more trouble than the dwarf!"
"And more dangerous," said Calihye. "Speak not ill of Canthan in my presence."
Davis Eng lifted his head enough to glower at her.
"And be particularly wise to do as I say as you lie there helplessly," the woman added, and that made the man lay his head back down.
"I didn't know you were friends."
"Me and Canthan?" The woman snorted. "The more ground's between us, the calmer beats my heart. But like your dwarf, that one is better on my side than my opponent's." She paused and moved across the small room to the fire pit, where a kettle of stew simmered. "You want more?"
The man waved and shook his head. It already seemed as though he was falling far, far away from the conscious world.
"Better to be out here, indeed," Calihye said—to herself, for Davis Eng had lapsed into unconsciousness. "They're for going into that castle, so I'm hearing, and that's no place I'm wanting to be, Athrogate and Canthan beside me or not."
"But did you not just say that the dwarf was a fine warrior?" came a different voice behind her, and the woman froze in place. "And the skinny one even more dangerous?"
Calihye didn't dare turn about; she knew from the proximity of the voice that the newcomer could take her down efficiently if she threatened him. How had he gotten so near? How had he even gotten into the room?
"Might I even know who's addressing me?" she dared ask.
A hand grabbed her shoulder and guided her around to look into the dark eyes of Artemis Entreri. Anger flared in Calihye's eyes, and she had to fight the urge to leap upon the man who had allowed her friend to fall beneath the wagon wheels.
Wisdom overcame the temptation, though, for in looking at the man, standing so at ease, his hands relaxed and ready to bring forth one of his ornamented weapons in the blink of an eye, she knew that she had no chance.
Not now. Not with her own weapons across the way next to Davis Eng's bed.
Entreri smiled at her, and she knew that her glance at the sleeping soldier had betrayed her.
"What do you want?" she asked.
"I wanted you to keep on speaking, that I could hear what I needed to hear and be on my way," Entreri replied. "Since that is not an option, apparently, I decided to bid you continue."
"Continue what?"
"Your appraisal of Athrogate and Canthan, to start," said the assassin. "And any information you might offer on the others."
"Why should I offer anyth—"
She bit off the last word, and nearly the tip of her tongue as faster than her eye could even follow, the assassin had his jeweled dagger in his hand and tip-in against the underside of her chin.
"Because I do not like you," Entreri explained. "And unless you make me like you in the next few minutes, I will make your death unbearable."
He pressed in just a bit harder, forcing Calihye up on her tip-toes.
"I can offer gold," she said through her gritted teeth.
"I will take whatever gold of yours I want," he assured her.
"Please," she begged. "By what right—"
"Did you not threaten me out on the road?" he said. "I do not let such chatter pass me by. I do not leave enemies alive in my wake."
"I am not your enemy," she rasped. "Please, if you let me show you."
She lifted one hand as if to gently stroke him, but he only grinned and pressed that awful dagger in more tightly, breaking the skin just a bit.
"I don't find you charming," Entreri said. "I don't find you alluring. It annoys me that you are still alive. You have very little time left."
He let the dagger draw a bit of the half-elf's life-force into its vampiric embrace. Calihye's eyes widened in an expression so full of horror that the assassin knew he had her undivided attention.
He reached up with his other hand, planted it on her chest, and retracted the dagger as he unceremoniously shoved her back and to the side of the cooking pit.
"What would you ask of me?" Calihye gasped, one hand clutching her chin as if she believed she had to contain her life's essence.
"What more is there to know of Athrogate and Canthan?"
The woman held up her hands as if she didn't understand.
"You battle monsters for your living, yet you fear Canthan," said Entreri. "Why?"
"He has dangerous friends."
"What friends?"
The woman swallowed hard.
"Two beats of your fast-beating heart," said Entreri.
"They say he is associated with the citadel."
"What citadel? And do understand that I grow weary of prying each word from your mouth one at a time."
"The Citadel of Assassins."
Entreri nodded his understanding, for he had indeed heard whispers of the shadowy band, living on after the fall of Zhengyi, digging out their kingdom in the shadows created by the brilliance of King Gareth's shining light. They were not so different than the pashas Entreri had served for so long on the streets of Calimport.
"And the dwarf?"
"I know not," said Calihye. "Dangerous, of course, and mighty in battle. That he even speaks to Canthan frightens me. That is all."
"And the others?"
Again the woman held up her hand as if she did not understand.
"The other dwarf?"
"I know nothing of him."
"Ellery?" he asked, but he shook his head even as the name left his lips, doubting there was anything the half-elf might tell him of the red-haired commander. "Mariabronne?"
"You have not heard of Mariabronne the Rover?"
A glare from Entreri reminded her that it really wasn't her place to ask the questions.
"He is the most renowned traveler in Vaasa, a man of legend," Calihye explained. "It is said that he could track a swift-flying bird over mountains of empty stone. He is fine with the blade and finer with his wits, and always he seems in the middle of momentous events. Every child in Damara can tell you tales of Mariabronne the Rover."
"Wonderful," the assassin muttered under his breath. He moved across the room to Calihye's sword belt, hooked it with his foot and sent it flying to her waiting grasp.
"Well enough," he said to her. "Is there anything more you wish to add?"
She looked from the sword to the assassin and said, "I cannot travel with you—I am charged with guarding Davis Eng."
"Travel? Milady, you'll not leave this room. But your words satisfied me. I believe you. And I assure you, that is no small thing."