“I was surprised when the Racha man offered to go with Dhulyn,” she said. “From the look on his face when he learned Dhulyn’s a Seer, I don’t think he’ll be parted from her until all this is over.”
“The Clouds have claimed since the times of the Caids that the Marked are under their personal protection. The fact that until recently the Marked needed no special protection has never changed their attitude.”
Fanryn picked up her own mug of ganje and tossed it off in one swallow. She made a face.
“Cold,” she said.
Before Alkoryn could do more than smile, Thionan came striding in, Oswin Battlehammer, one of the two Semlorian Brothers in Gotterang, in tow. “I hope this is the last,” she said, tapping the travel case with the side of her foot. “We’re starting to run out of room.”
“It is. As soon as you have it safely stowed, Parno will want us in the common room.”
Thionan glanced at the window, checking the amount of light showing above the rooftops. “They’ll still be in the copse. We’ve got the better part of an hour before they come through the gate, and at least two until they arrive at the Carnelian Dome.”
“When you reach my age,” Alkoryn said, “you’ll realize that you can never have too much time.”
Fanryn glanced at her Partner over their Senior Brother’s head. She knew Thionan’s grin was a mirror for her own. And she knew why. Neither of them expected to reach Alkoryn’s age.
Almost an hour later Parno stood beside Tek-aKet in the Mercenary House’s small whitewashed common room and counted over in his mind the group assembled there. Half a dozen Brothers only, including Fanryn and the two Semlorians, but not Thionan who’d gone off to watch for Dhulyn’s party to come through the north gate.
“You’ve all seen the maps,” he said. “There’s only one tricky part, so watch the walls for our marks.” Parno indicated the man leaning against the trestle table to his left. “The Tarkin and I will be first, with Jessen and Tonal of his Personal Guard. Oswin Battlehammer and Tyler Nightsky will follow next, and then the rest of you behind us by twos.” He tapped a small sand clock he’d borrowed from the kitchen. “Use this to time yourselves, we can’t afford to get bottled up. We’ll be going through the northwest passage, exiting in the Steward’s room behind the main dining hall.”
“Remind me to brick that up when all this is over,” Tek-aKet said with a smile twisted sideways. Parno waited for the laugh to finish before he went on. It wasn’t much of a joke-in fact he was sure that Tek meant every word of it-but anything helped to relieve the tension.
“Fanryn, you and Thionan-”
“If she ever gets back,” Fanryn said, rolling her eyes and shaking her head.
Parno grinned. “When she gets back,” he said. “You’ll stay with Barlen Jadestar and Noshun Icehawk. Try to make it look like there’s still twenty of us here, and keep the Tarkina safe until…”
“Until you send for us,” Fanryn said. “Or until you don’t.”
“If it should be that we don’t,” the Tarkin said in a quiet voice that nevertheless reached every ear, “will you see that she reaches her sister in Berdana.”
“We’ll do it ourselves, Lord Tarkin, my Partner and I,” Fanryn said.
Instructions given, Brothers and Guards started to leave the common room, some laughing or whistling, some studying the floor with narrowed eyes as they went. Everyone reacts differently, Parno thought. It was something he’d seen before, every experienced soldier had. He saw the look on Tek-aKet’s face and smiled. Every experienced soldier. Tek looked like he didn’t know whether to be scandalized at their levity, or to laugh himself.
All thoughts of laughter vanished as Barlen Jadestar burst into the room.
“Fanryn,” Barlen said. “Come quickly, it’s Thionan.”
Parno wasn’t very far behind Fanryn as she ran down the short corridor that led to the entrance courtyard. There would be only one reason, he thought, his heart heavy, that Fanryn should come quickly. A small, selfish part of his soul sagged with relief that Barlen had not come calling for him. Still, he cursed himself when he reached the outer courtyard and found Fanryn taking Thionan into her arms, easing her Partner down onto the bench under the plum tree, and pushing Thionan’s hands away from the bloody rag she held to her chest with both hands.
Parno sucked in his breath when he saw the blood-darkened arrow shaft sticking out between Thionan’s hands. She’d been surprised coming back from the gate, and not too far away, judging by how far she could walk with that shaft in her chest. And the Healer who’d fixed his arm long gone.
“Traitor’s soldiers surround the House,” she said, blood bubbling through her lips as she breathed.
“That dung eater Dal-eDal has sold us to the Shadow,” Parno said.
“No.” Thionan coughed and tried again. “Not here for Tarkin. Looking for Dhulyn.”
“They don’t know she’s at the gates with Dal?”
“Save your strength, just nod,” Fanryn said, her own teeth clenched.
Thionan nodded. Her lips formed the words “passed” and “gate.” Parno looked at the angle of the sun. This changed all their plans-and yet it couldn’t. They couldn’t leave Dhulyn and Dal-eDal to enter the Dome alone. He looked up as a shadow touched him to see Alkoryn studying his face.
“Pasillon, after all,” the Senior Brother said with a sour smile.
Parno nodded, grim-faced. “They’ll wish it was only the Sleeping God they had to worry about, when we are through,” he said. He turned back to Fanryn and Thionan. “Can you cut it out? Or can we move her?”
Fanryn shook her head. “It’s in the lung.” She turned her face toward him, though her eyes never left Thionan. “And it’s barbed.”
A war arrow, then, not the kind the City Guard would normally use on citizens. This was war, the kind of death they all expected-for many, the death they hoped for. Parno could imagine many worse ways to spend his final moments than in Dhulyn’s arms, her cheek against his forehead.
So long as it was not the other way around, he thought. Please all the Caids, demons and fates, not the other way around.
After passing through the gate in the city wall it took Dhulyn a few minutes to place her companions once again. Linn, the guard who’d eaten onions yesterday, had moved from his position behind her and slightly to the left, and was now directly behind her. His brother, Joss, whose saddle gave off a rhythmic squeak, was still directly ahead. Dal-eDal’s horse had a distinctive wheeze in its breath-nothing serious, but the horse probably shouldn’t be used for racing-and the sound placed the noble in the lead, where he should be.
Cullen, who somehow managed still to smell of mountain thyme, moved suddenly to her right.
“Disha tells me the banner does not fly from Mercenary House.”
With an effort Dhulyn kept relaxed and still. She could not risk loosening her false bonds. “Let her tell us when it does.”
“And if it should not?”
“There’s no turning back now,” Dhulyn said.
“But, Wolfshead-”
“My Brothers will reach us,” she said.
“And if they do not?”
“Then we will kill the Green Shadow ourselves.”
“Or die in the attempt.”
“Or die in the attempt,” she agreed, with a careful shrug. “It is all that is required of us.”
The sound of breaking glass took Parno on the run past Alkoryn’s deserted map room. He’d already been on his way up to shut and bar the only second-story windows that gave on the outside world, but as it was, he’d almost been too late. Sword ready in his hand, he cut with one downward motion through the hand that groped on the windowsill, wincing as the blade clanged on the stone. There went a carefully honed edge. He used the fist that was holding the hilt to push the man-screaming at the loss of his fingers-off the ladder he was standing on and took only another second to shove the ladder away from the wall as Sharan Owlclaw ran into the room behind him.