"That's good, because when you're alone with him, I need you to tell him what I told you about your papa." Bohdan, for all he was a sick old man, was the only person remaining in Ohrid who might possibly have enough authority to stand up against Lukas and Olina. Based on what she'd seen back in Fourth Quarter, he was also the only person in Ohrid she'd trust with the truth.
"But I promised not to tell anyone."
Grinding her teeth sent knives of pain through her head. "Anyone but Bohdan," Stasya amended. "Do you remember what to tell him?"
"That Papa isn't dead and it was a mistake and he's coming with Nees."
"What a good memory you've got."
Gerek snorted. "I'm five."
"Of course you are. And I need you to tell him where I am and who put me here."
"Okay."
"But don't tell your Aunt Olina!"
"'Course not, I promised. Papa says you never break a promise." He stood. "Besides, Aunty Olina knows where you are. I gotta go 'cause my fire is going out."
"Gerek?" No, she couldn't ask him to leave the torch. She had no idea how far he'd have to travel in the dark without it. "Never mind."
"Okay." He was almost to the next room when he remembered something and returned to the grate. "Bard? I don't want you to be dead no more."
Her back against the wall, Stasya lifted her head one last time toward the light. "I'm glad, Gerek."
"In case you're curious, we're in Ohrid."
Pjerin pushed the mare to one side of the path and turned to stare in confusion at Annice. "How do you know?"
"By the way the kigh react to your presence."
Her tone hinted that any idiot should know that, but, remembering the morning's tears, Pjerin gave her the benefit of the doubt and kept his own voice neutral. "Excuse me?"
"The kigh recognize you as the person responsible for this area of land." Annice pushed an overhanging branch out of her way, waiting until the shower of water droplets ceased before she continued walking. There was no point in taking shelter from the storm and then being drenched by its aftermath. "Surely you've heard the idea that the lord and the land are one?"
"Well, yes, but…"
"When you took the title, didn't you make a cut with the family sword and bleed on the earth? At First Quarter Festival, don't you make the first cut for the plow? And at Second Quarter Festival, don't you spend the night in the fields, spilling your seed?"
"Annice!"
She grinned at him. "Well, don't you? It's your right; you're not too old, or too young, I imagine you have plenty of choices, and I know all the parts work."
"Annice!" When she looked as if she was going to continue, he raised his free hand and cut her off. "All right. I do. Now drop it."
"I was only about to point out that all these things—and others—tie you to the land." She nodded toward the earth at his feet. "The kigh know that you've come home."
The door to the armory, which was heavy and had a tendency to stick, would have defeated him had one of the stablehands not chanced by to open it for him. Gerek thanked her, explained he could close it by himself, and waited until she'd rounded the corner before he went inside.
While Nurse Jany had fussed and scrubbed him and helped him dress, Gerek had made up his mind. Bohdan was old and sick and couldn't help the bard anyway.
Taking bow and quiver from their pegs, he checked them as he'd been taught, slung the quiver over his shoulder, and wrapped the bowstring tightly for traveling. He had a cooked sausage in his belt-pouch and he had a plan.
Gerek stared up at his papa's sword. It was the due's special sword his Aunty Olina had said when she'd handed it to him at First Quarter Festival. His papa was the due. He was going to take his papa his sword.
Hung high above his reach, he had to stand on a bench and use the end of his bow to knock it off the wall. The blade bounced partway out of the scabbard when it landed, hilt ringing loudly against the stone floor of the armory, but Gerek shoved the pieces back together and wrapped it awkwardly in his best cloak. He wasn't allowed to play with the sword, so he figured he should hide it until he was out of the keep.
No one saw him as he made his way to the gate, struggling a little with his heavy load. Relishing his role as a secret messenger, he stayed in the shadows close to the walls. Once outside the walls, he slipped off onto a narrow path too steep for anything but goats or children, screened from above by the lip of the track. He had to let the sword slide down alone, but it didn't seem to have hurt it when he retrieved it at the bottom.
With one wistful glance toward the shrieks of laughter coming from the fields on the other side of the village, he darted into the tangle of growth bordering the creek that ran from the base of the keep to the forest. He wasn't a baby. He knew that if he kept to the track, they'd find him and bring him back.
He also knew, although he couldn't put the idea into words, that there could be no going back. His Aunty Olina wasn't the type to forgive such treachery.
"Stop crying, Jany!" Olina snapped. "I can't understand a word you're saying. Gerek spent the afternoon in the fields when I expressly forbade it and he's going to be punished." Although the boy's disobedience had actually been convenient as she'd had enough to take care of without supervising his lessons, that didn't negate the fact he'd disobeyed.
Gerek's nurse choked back a sob and lifted her face from a damp, crumpled square of linen. "He didn't spend the afternoon in the fields, Lady. I washed him and I dressed him and I sent him down to you."
"Just because he was washed and dressed doesn't mean he didn't return to the pleasures of mud," Olina pointed out, drumming her fingers on the arms of her chair. Gerek had obviously become too much for the old woman to handle. He needed a tutor, and the moment the Cemandian invasion was complete, she'd get him one.
"No, Lady, I spoke with Gitka. He wasn't there. No one has seen him all afternoon."
"No one?"
"No one, Lady. What if he's…" The thought became too much for her and she burst into fresh sobs.
"What if he's what? Hurt? You're not helping him, Jany." Olina stood, lips set in a thin line. Although fond of the child, she had no doubt that he'd be found tucked into a corner somewhere, happily oblivious to the panic he'd caused his nurse. Meanwhile, she could use this incident for other ends. "Find Lukas; he can organize a search of the keep."
Eventually, the search spread out from the keep to the village and the surrounding valley. Torches were lit as night fell and the voices calling his name grew strained and frightened. Parents held their own children closer and remembered all the dangers of the darkness.
Olina stood by the entrance to the old cellars, staring at the stub of the torch and the print of a small foot outlined in crumbling flakes of earth. Gerek had gone into the cellar carrying the torch she had used when they got rid of the bard and then come out again. What had he seen? And what, if anything, had he been told? Things had just become much more complicated.
"Has anyone checked the palisade? He may have gone to watch the work and…"
"Lady!" Urmi pushed her way through the crowd gathered in the outer courtyard. "I've just searched the armory! The due's sword is missing!"
The little fool has probably taken it and trotted off to challenge the king! Olina slapped control around her relief. At least he's not hiding in the keep with what he knows. Now, I can deal with this. "Has anyone seen the bard?"
No one had.
The server sent to check Stasya's room raced back crying that the bard was gone.
An ugly murmur ran through the crowd. Olina listened and did nothing although she could have stopped it with a word—reaction would serve her better than reason. She was pleased to see Lukas flash the sign against the kigh and more pleased still to see it mirrored around the courtyard.