“And what decides you against that?” Dhulyn said.
“Zella and the children,” he said. “My family will never be safe with Lok-iKol Tenebroso on the throne. No matter where we go, what we do, he will see us as a threat until he hunts us down and kills us all. He’s been doing exactly that to his own House for years.” He lowered his eyes again, and his face turned to stone. “But there is also this. Lok-iKol is not Tarkin of Imrion. Neither by inheritance nor by Ballot. I find it is, after all, that simple. I will not walk away from my throne, my people, my responsibilities, and leave them to that jackal. I must find some place, some fortress or other, that I can use to rally my army. If I move quickly, then many who are now confused will come to us.”
“Well,” Parno said lightly. “We’re looking for work, Lord Tarkin. We’d give you a good rate.”
The sound of hoofbeats on the cobbles of the lane outside the tavern drew every eye to the window and three of the regulars to the door. Karlyn-Tan stayed in his seat by the inner window that let out on the stable yard, polishing the buckle of his sword belt in the sunshine that found its way through the open shutters. The two youngsters were in his room upstairs, smuggled in the back way and even now taking advantage of warmed water and soap. It wasn’t until it was obvious the horse was stopping that Karlyn put aside the buckle and polishing cloth and turned toward the door. He knew the sound of a horse that was being ridden, and there was only one noble he could think of who might have reason to come to this particular inn.
Dal-eDal entered and stepped immediately to one side so as not to present a silhouette in the entrance-and also to let his two guards enter with him. As soon as his eyes adjusted to the relative dimness of the taproom, his chin lifted as he caught sight of Karlyn-Tan. He crossed the half-empty room with a nod at the innkeeper behind the bar and joined Karlyn at his corner table. Karlyn smiled when the nobleman sat down with his back to rest of room-evidently Dal was sure that Karlyn would warn him if there should be any trouble. Or perhaps he was counting on the loyalty of the two guards, now being served at the bar? The young nobleman looked paler than usual, with lines around his eyes Karlyn had not seen before. When his cup of wine arrived, the fingers that turned it around on the tabletop without lifting it to his lips trembled slightly.
“You might have been better to come afoot,” Karlyn-Tan said. “You’d attract less attention.” He threw a pointed glance around at the patrons of the barroom, only some of whom were minding their own business. Others seemed to think that a well-dressed and mounted nobleman, even with two guards, was their business.
“I will not be in Gotterang long enough for attention to harm me,” Dal-eDal said, turning to sit sideways in his seat.
That was enough to make Karlyn look up once more from his polishing, as Dal-eDal must have known it would.
“My House and lord, Lok-iKol,” Dal said quietly, his eyes now idly drifting over the room, “has an errand for me outside the city.”
“Lok-iKol wishes you to leave Gotterang?”
Dal-eDal inclined his head once.
Karlyn-Tan relaxed, allowing his shoulders to rest against the wall behind his bench. No one in the House had thought it strange that this younger cousin had been kept on a short leash. Younger cousins who were part of the succession, even if they had no apparent ambition, were always a danger to heirs, and best kept where they could be carefully watched. This was no less true now that Lok-iKol was calling himself Tarkin. And yet Lok-iKol was now sending Dal away?
Karlyn let his eyes drift over to the two men watching from the bar. “Is he so sure of himself, now that he is Tarkin?”
Dal shook his head impatiently. “It’s more than that. He…” Dal looked across the table from under his brows. “I’ve been long a coward, Karlyn-Tan, or so I thought. But yesterday I saw something that makes me understand what fear is. I need help.”
Karlyn raised his eyebrows, his lips parting of their own accord. He quickly lowered his own eyes back to the bits of buckle, the polishing paste and rags on the tabletop. Dal had to be afraid, to say such a thing aloud.
“I appreciate the help you have given me,” he said slowly. “But I remind you that I am no longer a Steward of Tenebro.”
Dal stopped turning his wine cup on the table and took a long draw from it, setting it back on the table with a sour twist to his mouth. Serves him right, Karlyn thought. This isn’t the kind of place you should order wine.
“This is a greater concern than who is Tenebro and who is not. We speak now of the fate of Imrion.” Dal wiped his lips with the back of his hand. “You haven’t asked about my errand.”
Karlyn-Tan waited.
“He sends me to find the Mercenary Brother, Dhulyn Wolfshead. I feel it is imperative that we find her, if only to learn why Lok-iKol wants her. If only to use her ourselves.”
Karlyn-Tan felt himself go perfectly still. And kept perfectly silent.
“How?”
“How else? Against Lok-iKol.”
Ah. Karlyn drummed the tabletop with his fingers. The fate of Imrion, indeed.
“Can we rid ourselves of the two men with you? I have someone I think you should meet.”
Dhulyn looked out through the spy hole and nodded slowly, almost unable to believe what her eyes told her.
“He does not lie,” she said to Tyler Nightsky, the Brother who had called her to the gate. “That is Karlyn-Tan, last seen as Steward of Walls at Tenebro House.” She turned to Tyler. “I will speak with Alkoryn. In the meantime, allow him to enter the outer courtyard.”
Karlyn-Tan had been told to stand at the end of the courtyard nearest the gate. Dhulyn let herself into the yard from the kitchen end and waited, without moving. Except for the missing Tenebro crest, he looked very much the same as the last time she had seen him, eyes narrow, lips unsmiling.
“Dhulyn Wolfshead,” he said, taking half a step toward her before remembering his instructions and standing still.
“I did not think it possible that my ears and eyes both should deceive me,” she said. “And yet here you are.”
“You are not deceived, Wolfshead,” he said. “I am here.”
“And your Walls?”
“Are mine no longer. I am Cast Out.”
For a moment Dhulyn could think of nothing to say that was adequate to what he’d told her. Finally, she nodded. “For whom do you speak?”
“To you, I speak for myself,” Karlyn glanced away before returning his eyes to hers. “I rejoice to see you well, and alive. And I bring you warning that Lok-iKol Tenebroso seeks everywhere for you.” She bowed toward him. That was certainly no news to her, whatever he thought, but his goodwill in warning her had to be acknowledged.
Karlyn took a deeper breath. “To Tek-aKet, Tarkin of Imrion, I speak for Dal-eDal Tenebro, who comes with news, and brings himself and eight others as a token of the force of allies he can add to the Tarkin’s strength.”
“You bring messages here for Tek-aKet Tarkin?”
“I do. Mercenary Brothers helped him escape, and he is either with you, or his whereabouts are known to you.”
Dhulyn kept her face still as stone, giving nothing away. Of course Dal-eDal knew they had been in the Carnelian Dome, helping the Tarkin. Did anyone else know? Were the tunnels secure enough for the Tarkin and his family? Alkoryn certainly believed so, but better careful than cursing, Dhulyn thought.
“Does Dal-eDal hope to become Tenebroso? And will you then be restored to your Walls?”
“We have no such hope or expectation,” Karlyn-Tan said. “There is too much future for us to see what will come.”