Asunder (39 page)

            "Get on the horse," he muttered bitterly. "I'll keep your secret. And I'll learn the ritual."

            She nodded slowly. "May I ask why?"

            "Because running won't help anyone. It's time I made a stand."

            Chapter 15

           
They were a day away from the capital city. That's what Knight-
Captain told them, and Cole greeted the news with a mixture of eagerness and apprehension. He felt strangely naked out under the open sky, in places he didn't belong. It would be good to be back in the tower, to walk down dark hallways he didn't need to see in order to know where they led. It was only the thought of being brought before the templars that frightened him. They would judge him, and find him wanting.

           
Just not a cell,
he prayed silently.
Anything but a lonely dungeon cell.

            It was even worse being with people who could see him. He'd wished for it for so long, and yet now he felt their eyes upon him even when they weren't looking his way. It made his skin crawl, and he couldn't help it. Each time he spoke and they responded, he jumped. So he tried to speak as little as possible.

            They would have been at the city sooner, except that Knight- Captain—
Evangeline,
he mentally corrected himself— had taken them off the main road the day before last. She said it would be better to stay out of sight, travel through rural areas, and approach the city from the west rather than the south. Everyone looked worried when she said that, but nobody objected. Not even Red Hair, who objected to almost everything.

            He imagined it had something to do with the army they'd encountered. Well . . . not an army, really. There’d been maybe a dozen men on the road, but Evangeline said later there were probably more nearby. Hundreds more. An older man wearing a fancy purple cloak had ridden down to speak to them. His helmet had a plume of white feathers sprouting from it— Cole had never seen anything so silly. The man would have looked wealthy if it hadn't been for all the mud stains and rust.

            He'd spoken with Evangeline and Old Woman. Boring, friendly talk to which Cole hadn't listened. Instead he'd dismounted and wandered to where the other soldiers were grouped, just down the way. Rhys made a strangled noise when he did that. He probably would have tried to stop Cole if that didn't mean calling attention to them both.

            But he didn't. In a way it was strangely comforting to walk among those men and not have them even glance in his direction. Their horses noticed, however. He saw their big black eyes swivel, and they made nickering noises when he got too close. He'd never been near a horse prior to all this, that he could remember. They’d be more impressive if they didn't all smell like dusty manure.

            It was the soldiers who interested him more, regardless. They were big, brutish- looking men who wore their armor like it didn't belong to them. Cole disliked the way they looked down the road, or how they nervously fingered their weapons. It wasn't fear that agitated them, however. It was anticipation. He could almost smell the bloodlust.

            One of them said, "How long til the others get here?"

            "Soon," another replied. "Let's hope he stalls them long enough."

            That was all he needed to hear. Cole ran back to Rhys and quickly told him, and then Rhys rode forward and whispered it in Evangeline's ear. When she made her farewells to Purple Cloak, everything changed. His smile became strained. Cole couldn't hear the words, but he understood what was happening well enough when Purple Cloak signaled to the soldiers and they rode toward them at full speed, their weapons drawn.

            And then they stopped, on account of the shimmering curtain of magic that blocked their way. That was Rhys's doing; Cole could see his staff raised, glowing as brightly as the sun. He also heard what Rhys said next very clearly: "We're exactly what we appear to be, Baron. I suggest you take your men and go— unless you
want
to be toads; I won't judge."

            Purple Cloak's face went white as a sheet, and he made haste to retreat with his men, all of them shouting curses as they rode off. Evangeline brought them off the road immediately, saying the men would be back with more. Cole felt vaguely disappointed. Could Rhys really turn them into toads? He wanted to see that.

            They fled swiftly across a grassy dale, hopping a farmer's fence and then passing through a small forest. Eventually they stopped, the horses sweating and needing to be fed. Evangeline seemed convinced that any chase had been eluded. When Cole asked why Purple Cloak had wanted to attack them, it was Old Woman who answered: "For ransom," she said. "He thought we were traveling in disguise, pretending to be templars and mages so nobody would meddle with us."

            "He wanted coin?" Cole asked, perplexed.

            "If he could get it, from what ever families we belonged to. And if he couldn't get it, I imagine a few of us would have ended up on the slave market."

            "The Empire is falling apart." Rhys shook his head, amazed.

            Evangeline agreed. "Bandits first, then roving mobs of starving peasants if things get worse. We might expect to see press gangs as well, if the nobility are gathering armies. Val Royeaux could be in chaos when we arrive."

            The others seemed to digest that news as if it tasted unpleasant. The elven man fretted and worried, to the point where Old Woman needed to talk to him in kind words until he calmed.

            Cole didn't know what to make of it. Press gangs? What would they press? He would have asked, but he'd likely exceeded his allowance for stupid questions. So instead he remained quiet as Evangeline got back on the horse, and he held on for dear life as they tried to make up for lost time.

            That was two days ago. Now they were camping inside an old hay barn, half falling apart with the field overgrown with lavender. There was purple everywhere he looked, flowers gently swaying in the evening's breeze along with a scent that was both pleasant and somehow too sweet. Cole saw no livestock, and Evangeline said she suspected the run- down farm house off in the distance might be abandoned, but didn't want to risk checking.

            Cole didn't mind. The farm house looked lonely. He watched from the edge of the field, wondering who might have once lived there. The dark windows over the door stared back at him like a pair of malevolent eyes. There
are secrets in this house,
they said, se
crets in the floors and the walls that will remain until they are dust and gone.

            He shivered and turned away. Camping among the flowers was preferable. Besides, the sky was clear. The day had been warm, and the evening was no less so. If there was anything to enjoy about being out in the open it was this.

            He might not have a choice soon enough.

            Old Woman— Wynne, as she kept reminding him— was in the stable, mending a tear in her robe. She listened patiently as Red Hair berated her about the same topic she always talked about: freedom. Cole didn't really understand what kind of freedom she meant, but he had the suspicion she didn't either. What ever she thought it was, she was determined to have it.

            That argument went on for what seemed like hours, until finally Red Hair stalked off and spent her time brushing the horses. She liked the horses. She talked to them in a soothing voice and gave them names. When the tiny mage was with the horses, she became pretty, all the anger and hard lines on her face dissolving away. Cole would suggest she do more of that if he didn't think she would yell at him for it.

            Evangeline had left hours ago. There was a small village nearby, she said, where she intended to buy food. That left Rhys and the elven man, Pharamond, sitting and talking off among the flowers. What they talked about, he hadn't a clue. People stopped speaking when they could see you standing there. It had never really occurred to him someone might not want to be overheard.

            Even among a group of people who could see him, Cole still felt like an outsider. Maybe it was supposed to be that way. Maybe that was part of his curse.

            Rhys said that there might be a way to end it, that people remembering Cole after seeing him in that dreamland could be the key. Cole hadn't mentioned to Rhys that he'd already started to notice changes. He'd seen the perplexed look on Evangeline's face when she looked at him in the morning, like she couldn't quite place who he was. Red Hair kept complaining Cole was sneaking up on her when he'd been standing beside her the entire time.

            All of them were starting to forget, and they weren't even aware of it. Cole was aware. It was like the ground was slowly turning to quicksand under his feet, while everyone else kept walking on, oblivious to his sinking. He was fading away, that familiar feeling creeping like a chill over his bones.

            "Is something wrong, Cole?"

            It was Evangeline. She was strolling toward him from afar, a sack hefted over one shoulder. Her scarlet cloak streamed in the wind behind her. The moon was coming up just over the horizon, and it cast her in a silvery light that made his heart clench. The way the templar looked at him, as if she knew things about him even he didn't know, made him nervous. But it wasn't in a bad way, somehow.

            "I . . . thought you were going to the village?" he stuttered.

            "I was," she said. When she got to the rotted remains of the pasture fence he stood by she let the sack drop to the ground with a relieved grunt. "Thankfully I encountered a farmer coming back from the market with a full cart. No business, he said. What ever's happening, it hasn't touched this part of the Heartlands yet."

            "That's a good thing."

            "For us it is." She glanced over at where Rhys and Pharamond sat, and then regarded Cole curiously. "Why don't you go over and talk to them? I could see you looking forlornly at them from across the field. I'm certain they wouldn't mind."

            The elven man was laughing at something Rhys said, so boisterously he was rolling around on the ground. That's how the elf laughed at anything, it seemed. The slightest amusing remark and he would roar with amusement, and keep it up until everyone else stared at each other uncomfortably. The man was awash in a sea of feeling, carried away by what ever current took him.

            "I . . . can't." Cole shook his head, feeling an embarrassed blush rise up his cheeks. He imagined he must seem like some kind of shy, awkward child to Evangeline. A child who didn't know anything.

            She leaned against the fence and scrutinized him while he deliberately avoided her gaze. "Let me ask you a question," she finally said. "How did you know about my mission?"

            "I heard the man in black armor tell you."

            "The Lord Seeker? There was a moment in my quarters when he sensed . . . something. That was you?"

            "Yes."

            "Were you there before then?"

            "Yes," he answered hesitantly.

            "When I was undressing."

            It wasn't a question. He remembered watching Evangeline remove her armor, and he averted his eyes, feeling his blush burn even hotter. All the times he'd watched people in the tower, and never once did he consider they might object . . . until now.

            "Do you do that often?" she asked.

            He shook his head vigorously. "You were taking Rhys away. I had to know why! All I wanted was . . ." Looking into Evangeline's eyes, he couldn't continue. The way she studied him so intently, her brow knitted, it was clear she was upset. Considering how kind she had been to him, he desperately wanted nothing more than to take it back. "I'm sorry," he said lamely.

            They stood by the fence for a time, an awkward silence between them. Evangeline stared down at the sack, nudging it with her foot. It seemed like she was trying to decide something.

            "What was the book?" he finally asked.

            She looked up, startled by the question. "What book?"

            "In your room. You took out a book . . . you seemed to like it a lot."

            Evangeline's expression changed. It became softer, almost sad, just as he remembered her looking when she held the book. "It . . . was my father's," she said, her voice suddenly thick. She glanced away. "The Chant of Light. We used to read the verses together. Do you . . . know anything about the Chant?"

            "No."

            She nodded, as if his answer was expected. Then she favored him with an embarrassed smile. "You would have liked my father. He was a good man." With that, she sighed ruefully and shook her head as if dispelling dark thoughts. Then she leaned in and kissed Cole on the forehead.

            "Go," she said gently. "Talk to Rhys. He doesn't blame you for anything."

            With that, she picked up the sack and walked toward the hay barn. He watched her go, rubbing his forehead in confusion. It tingled where she'd kissed him, and he felt it all the way down to his toes.