10
Betrayal
Neil was still waiting for Anne when the sun began to dim and Vaseto returned, leading Hurricane. On the horse was a pack carrying his armor and other few personal possessions. He walked out into the street and patted the stallion’s muzzle, noting with amusement and concern the stares with which those in the neighborhood regarded them both.
Vaseto noticed, too. “I don’t think they see horses in this part of town very much,” she said, “much less warsteeds.”
“I suppose they don’t,” Neil said, remembering he hadn’t seen anyone mounted since they passed through the large square at the city gate.
Hurricane tossed his head restlessly.
“There, lad,” Neil whispered. “Soon we’ll be back where we belong. I promise you a good leg-stretching in Newland. You’ll need it after passage on the ship.”
“If they’ll let you take her on,” Vaseto pointed out. “Berth for a man is one thing. Berth for a horse is something else again.” She shrugged. “But with what the countess passed along to you, you should be able to afford the room if they have it.” She flashed him a smile. “In any event, it’s now your problem. I have to get back to my dogs.”
Neil bowed. “I still don’t know who you really are, but thank you again.”
“You know more about me than most,” Vaseto said. “But if I were you, I would worry more about who you are. That’s likely to be more useful to you.”
With that cryptic comment, she walked up the street and vanished around a corner.
After a bit of reflection, Neil decided to put on his armor. If the men searching for Anne had had the same luck as he had, he might need it.
A bell later it occurred to him that not only hadn’t Anne come back down, but that he hadn’t seen Austra or Cazio, either. Cazio had talked as if there was something of a hurry, and yet where were they all?
He glanced at the old man they had called Ospero. He’d been watching Neil, not too pointedly, but without trying to hide it either. He’d been doing that since Anne had spoken to Cazio and had slipped upstairs.
“Can you tell me where Anne’s room is?” he asked.
“Ne comperumo,” the old man said, shrugging.
Neil looked around, hoping to spot someone who might speak the king’s tongue. Still, Cazio wasn’t back yet, and he had presumably gone to make the final arrangements.
Unless . . .
His heart fell like the bottom of a great storm swell.
Why? Why would Anne try to escape him? Were her Vitellian friends in league with the enemy?
No, there was a better explanation. What an idiot he was for not having seen it sooner. Anne had heard her father and sisters had been killed, but it was unlikely that she knew much more than that. Why should she trust a knight she barely knew, just because he claimed to have been sent to protect her?
It doesn’t matter now, he told himself, trying to stave off panic. His duty was still his duty, whether Anne believed him or not. One way or another he would bring her home, safe.
He knew where the ship was—and Anne wouldn’t be aware of that. He could still catch her, as long as they hadn’t set sail already.
He nodded to Ospero and swung himself up into the saddle. Ospero grinned faintly and raised his hand to wave. Neil saw the flash of steel at the last instant. He twisted in the saddle and ducked, and felt something graze along his arm, which was where his heart had been a moment or two before. Grimly he whirled Hurricane and drew out Crow. As if on cue, men were bunching into either side of the street. In just a few moments there would be more, but Neil wasn’t going to give them those moments. They were armed with knives and clubs, but one had a spear. If they managed to injure or immobilize Hurricane, his chances weren’t good.
Ospero was shouting, and Neil cursed himself again for not knowing Vitellian.
He pointed Hurricane at the man with the spear and charged. To his credit, the fellow seemed to know what to do. He knelt and braced the butt of the pole arm against the cobbles and aimed the point at the spot beneath Hurricane’s breastbone.
Neil’s breath was coming cool now, slow, in and out. He saw the men’s faces, their scars, whether they had shaved or not.
At the last possible moment, he turned Hurricane to the side, avoiding the spear altogether. Using the cut known as reaper, he sent one of his attackers down to the street, where the stone drank blood from his headless corpse. Hurricane reared savagely and kicked down at another. Neil felt a blow to his leg, but then he was free of them, clattering down the darkening streets.
He felt down to his leg, but the armor had turned away the blow. Hurricane seemed unhurt, and so he kept the pace, watching pedestrians scatter, listening to their unintelligible remonstrations, and beginning to hate the whole adventure. The novelty of foreign places was definitely wearing off.
She should have given me a token, he thought angrily. Something to convince Anne she really had sent me.
His anger at the queen was a shock followed by shame. Who was he to question her?
He urged Hurricane on, hoping he still had time.
Anne had recovered from her pangs of conscience by the time they reached the docks. When she saw the ships, she finally understood that she was really going home. Home, where she didn’t scrub clothes or make cheese or get invited to become a whore.
In the back of her mind, she still knew it was going to hurt, too, to enter the castle and find that her father and sisters were really gone, but that moment was still far away. For now, she could cling to the good part.
“But why are we leaving Sir Neil?” Austra whispered near her ear. Cazio had found her washing the dirty plates at a carachio near the great square. Anne had worked there before, her mouth watering at the smell of the lamb roasted with fennel and garlic. Austra smelled like that now.
“Cazio didn’t explain?”
“Yes, but Cazio does not know Sir Neil,” Austra said.
“I can’t believe it,” Anne said. “You’re questioning Cazio’s judgment?”
Austra flushed a bit. “He knows more about Vitellio than we do,” she said. “And he is very clever. But how can he know Sir Neil’s heart? It seems wrong. He always seemed very honest to me.”
“Austra, we don’t know Sir Neil. For all we know, he killed my sisters and now he’s come after me.”
“He wasn’t with the knights who attacked the coven.”
“How do you know? We didn’t see them all.” She took Austra’s hand. “The point is, we can’t know. And if I’m wrong—why, he’ll be fine. He made it to Vitellia, he’ll make it back.”
Austra frowned doubtfully.
“Not to interrupt,” Cazio said, “but there’s our ship just ahead.”
Z’Acatto, who had been entirely silent since he had joined Anne in the alley behind their building, suddenly grunted. “I know that standard,” he said. “Had you told me, I would never have agreed to this.”
“Hush, old man,” Cazio said in a low voice. “I did what I had to.”
“You don’t surprise me very often, boy,” the fencing master muttered. “But today you’ve managed it.”
“What’s he talking about?” Anne asked.
“Nothing,” Cazio replied quickly.
She turned to z’Acatto and saw that his eyes were very strange, as if he were angry, even furious. And then she realized his sword was already in his hand, its tip just clearing the scabbard. She wasn’t afraid yet, just very curious as to why the old man was going to kill her. But she could feel the fear arriving as he grabbed her.
Z’Acatto pushed, and she stumbled to the cobbles, one knee striking the stone. She gasped at the pain and looked up, trying to understand what was happening.
A man—a man she did not know—was staring at z’Acatto’s blade, which vanished somehow into the fellow’s throat.