Traitors Gate

Nekkar was slumbering fitfully when Vassa woke him, her worried expression illuminated by the lamp she carried.

'She's here.'

A deep bruise in his right hip made it difficult to stand, even leaning on a crutch, the effect made worse because his swollen left ankle throbbed if he rested any weight on it. But he limped out to the porch to find one of the night guards standing nervously behind the assassin. She was younger than he had imagined.

'Zubaidit.'

'Holy One.' She assisted him with strong arms to settle onto a pillow.

Vassa sat down on his other side, smiling in a way he knew meant she was reserving judgment. She set down the lamp on the planks. 'Kellas, bring what remains of the warmed khaif.'

The lad, hovering since Nekkar had fainted the night before, ran off.

'A humble cottage for an ostiary,' remarked the assassin pleasantly as they waited. 'Another person of your rank might insist on more ostentation.'

Vassa snorted, but she unbent slightly.

'I serve Ilu. Not wealth and the fickle opinion of those who care about such displays.'

She chuckled in a way he found endearing. 'An honest acolyte! Not as common a treasure in these days as we might hope.'

'That's as may be, verea. We could chatter on in this vein for half the night and would be considered polite for doing so. I beg your pardon. You said you had an associate. A gods-touched out-lander. Where he is?'

'Taken prisoner.' Her words were clipped.

'How did it happen?' asked Vassa sharply.

'I blame myself. I should have sent him away when I had the chance, because he lacks training, but he is gods-touched and therefore I thought I could use him to fulfill my mission. While I was here exploring Toskala, the army decided to send away the camp followers. He was caught in the sweep.'

'Saving me, you lost him.'

She shrugged with an angry lift of her chin. 'We can't know it would have fallen out differently had I not saved you, Holy One.'

Kellas appeared out of the darkness with a tray. Vassa served the spy with her own hands, a courtesy Nekkar observed with interest. Something in the woman's confession had earned Vassa's sympathy, and he trusted his lover's instincts for people more than his own.

He took his cup, sipped at the pungent sludge that had come from the bottom of the pot, and set it down with a grimace. 'We have seen many troubling and terrible things in recent days.'

She drained her own cup without answering.

'Bring nai porridge as well, whatever's left in the pot,' said Vassa to the lad, 'and make sure Odra keeps the rest of the apprentices down on their pallets.'

'Yes, Auntie.' Kellas trotted off. The night guard remained out of sight in the darkness.

'What will you do?' Nekkar asked.

'Go on with the mission. I waited as long as I could by the city gate after they took him inside, but I never saw him brought out and hanged. So maybe he is dead by other means. Or maybe he has succeeded beyond my expectations. I may never know. Such is war.'

'What do you want of us?' Vassa asked, and in her tone Nekkar heard a tincture of weariness: it got so tiring to have to be suspicious of everyone. Sometimes you had to trust as an act of hope.

'Is there any possible way you can get me up to the reeves on rhe rock and back down again without being caught?'

'Up to Law Rock and Justice Square?' The words startled him. 'No. The thousand steps are blocked by a rockfall. If you don't have wings, there's no other route beyond the provisions baskets, and I'm sure they're winched safely up top. The army must have a blockade at the base of both routes — basket and steps — to guard against folk down here sending weapons or food up in aid of the reeves.'

Vassa folded her arms over her chest. 'What message have you for the reeves? Or for us, for that matter? We're forced to abide by curfews. We're promised the markets will be allowed to open under strict supervision if we obey. Yet this morning word came by street crier that every house, clan, and guild compound will be required to give up coin and storehouse goods to the army, and a hostage as well, one from each household, clan, guild, and even the temples.'

'Just as the Guardian commanded,' murmured Nekkar.

Zubaidit whistled. 'That's a heavy tax.'

'Theft can be weathered, if one is willing to tighten one's belt through the lean months to come.' Vassa broke off as Kellas hurried up with a covered bowl, set it down in front of the assassin, and retreated. Zubaidit set a hand on the cover and, trembling, drew it back.

'Go on,' said Vassa, voice gentling. As a cook, she could not bear to see people suffer from hunger.

'My thanks, verea.' She dug in with a will, devouring half the porridge before she forced herself to stop and let it settle. 'My apologies.'

'How long has it been since you've eaten?' demanded Vassa.

'It doesn't matter. Listen, Holy One. Verea.' She gestured with the spoon in the direction of the gates. The wick whispered as it consumed the reservoir of oil. 'The army intends to march downriver and attack Nessumara. They'll leave a garrison to defend their interests in the city.'

'We could fight them if there are only a few!' cried Kellas from the end of the porch.

'Apprentice, it will be bed for you if you can't keep silence,' said Nekkar, although it was difficult not to chuckle at the lad's enthusiasm. Her words likewise set his own heart hammering. He turned to the assassin. 'Could we fight?'

'It is a risk to leave Toskala with only a garrison to control it. That must be why they are taking hostages to march south with

the main army. Such hostages can be cleansed if anyone in Toskala rebels.'

'The hells!' murmured Vassa.

The pain in his body swelled tenfold, as if he were thrown once again into the courtyard of the Thirsty Saw to face the Guardian's penetrating gaze. 'Of course no one will dare attack the garrison if they fear for the lives of their kinsfolk. Aui!'

'I need to let my allies know of this, as well as other observations I've made. Can you get me up the rock?' She looked at Vassa. 'For I think you know something, verea, that you're not saying.'

'Vassa?' he said, indignantly. 'Do you know something you've not shared with me?'

She patted him on the knee. 'You are not my husband, to be privy to my clan's secrets. Nor are you local, Nekkar. You've only lived in Toskala thirty years. I was born here.' She leaned forward to regard the assassin with a stare from which the other woman did not flinch. 'To help you puts us in deadly danger. We must live here while you will leave.'

'A fair concern, verea,' replied the spy, 'so I'll offer you a trade. Help me get a message to the reeves. When it comes time for your clan, or this temple, to hand over a hostage to the army, I'll go in place of one of your own. If I can't reach Lord Radas here, I have to go with the army. This is my chance. What do you say, verea?'

'Eat the rest of that porridge before it congeals,' said Vassa, in that way she took with the apprentices, to whom she was devoted although she lived in the compound next door and spent most of her day cooking for her clan of mat makers.

Zubaidit ate slowly with an effort that made it clear she was starving.

'They'll notice her southern way of talking at once,' said Nekkar, not sure whether to laugh at the thought of sticking one in the eye of the army, or weep at the chance of disaster that might engulf them were they to be caught.

'I served Hasibal for my apprentice year with a troupe of festival entertainers,' Vassa said with a sweep of uplifted chin that captured their attention. Nekkar smiled to see her brightness come alive after so many days smothered in anguish. 'We'd have to stage it, like actors do over in Bell Quarter. My clan could let her pose as the southern bride of my nephew, gotten in a trade deal. We'd hold her back when the army comes round, make it

seem like he and all of us are besotted. Get them to choose you as if against our will. It would be tricky. Not least due to his charms. He's a handsome lad.'