Bones of the Empire (13 page)

Before Estin could ask anything further, Feanne put a hand on his arm, bringing his thoughts to a crashing halt. “We have not rested in days, priestess. Can we sleep somewhere? Safely?”

“Of course,” Arella said, bowing deeply. “That is a reasonable request. The temple’s servants will show you to an inn. You may make your choice of where you will go once you have recovered fully.”

From the side of the group of people, Turess said something that Estin did not understand.

“You will also be given a map, which will help your planning,” Rishad added, bowing to Turess in acknowledgement. “I think my lord is getting a better idea of what I’m saying in this language. I may need to watch what I say.”

Touching his chest, Turess bowed to Rishad, then motioned for Estin and Feanne to follow him. He went toward the entry steps of the temple, where a man and woman in red silky clothing waited. The two stood out against the brown-robed priests and the fur-clad hunters. They waited until Estin and Feanne reached them before they made their way down the steps. Taking Feanne’s hand in his, Estin started after them.

“Estin, before you go,” Rishad called out, bringing him to a stop. Estin tightened his grip on Feanne’s hand, waiting for everything to abruptly turn deadly. “Come back here for a moment.”

Squeezing Feanne’s hand briefly, Estin pulled away from her and went back toward Rishad and Arella, keeping one hand on the sword he had tucked into the right side of his belt. He walked up to the odd pair, half-expecting Rishad to kill Arella and then attack him. Instead, the man laid his hand on Estin’s shoulder in a manner of polite greeting, rather than attack.

“I apologize for my rudeness,” he said, though his jaw remained clenched as he spoke. “My people have hunted yours far too long without good reason. By my oaths to the wild god, I will not harm you, unless it becomes a matter of survival for one or both of us. That is the way of Kerrelin’s believers, and I will adhere to it, no matter how difficult it may be for me. Know that my hostility is not how I was raised to be, and every harsh thing I say to you shames my ancestors and my faith.”

Estin opened his mouth to reply, but could not find anything to say. Instead, he looked over at Arella, whose bemused expression gave him very little. Something about the way she watched both Rishad and Estin gave him the sensation of being stalked, which was something he rarely saw in a human. Shivering slightly at memories of the wolves at Feanne’s old pack and how they had looked at him, he mumbled his thanks to Rishad and went with Feanne and Turess.

Almost immediately upon leaving the temple, six of the hunters fell in around Estin and the others, closing in both the two wildlings and the elegantly dressed humans leading the way. Feanne shied away from the nearest of the armed men, taking on a nervous and almost shy demeanor. She pulled Estin’s arm around her, surprising him at her willingness to cling in public when enemies were about. As soon as she was close, she made a show of hugging him and whispered, “Ten seconds and we are out of his sight. Turn toward the city’s gate and test his willingness to let us travel freely. If they attack, the three closest to me will die first…they think I am weak.”

Estin hugged Feanne back and gave her a curt nod when the city’s gate came into sight a little north of the street they were on. Between them and the wall, hundreds of humans went about their lives as though the war had not yet touched the place. Aside from a few buildings that appeared to have been burned down after he and Feanne had been there last, the battle for control of the city had been hidden from sight. He had expected vast destruction and undead everywhere, not a smoothly running city.

“Now,” he whispered, turning himself and Feanne as they walked, curving toward the gate. The man and woman guiding them—as well as Turess—continued on for a few more steps, but he and Feanne did not make it more than three feet off the intended route before two hunters rushed in front of them, cutting off their path and putting hands to knives and swords.

“Free to come and go?” Feanne said, her tone low, her whiskers twitching angrily. None of the hunters budged. “I think we understand. Keep your weapons sheathed.”

The hunters remained silent and met Feanne’s glares calmly, almost daring her to try anything with them. Estin could feel her tension and desire to attack, but she kept one hand to her side. She was not strong enough to fight yet, let alone through part of a city, especially with the lingering exhaustion from being healed, which he felt acutely himself. After several seconds, she relaxed and lowered her eyes, surrendering to the hunters. There would be another time for battle.

Putting his arm around Feanne to ensure she did not change her mind and to help keep them both standing—his body begged him to collapse in the middle of the street, and he had to assume she was no better off—Estin followed the group as they made their way to a small inn near the gates. The hunters stopped at the door, and the man and woman leading the way proceeded inside, beckoning the three of them in.

“Are they going to stand over us while we sleep or tuck us into bed?” Estin asked the two humans, narrowing his eyes threateningly when one of the hunters looked his way.

“No,” the elegant woman said, laughing lightly. She motioned dismissively at the hunters, and they walked away. “There is a certain arrangement we came to when the city stood against Rishad’s kin. He has no say over the people, and Arella never had any say over houses of ill repute. We are our own little kingdom within the city walls. By letting you stay with us, they are giving you as much freedom as they can without letting you leave. The hunters understand not to cross us, lest we make their lives miserable during their visits.”

“House of…?” Feanne began, looking at Estin with a touch of horror, her tail freezing midwag. “I’m unfamiliar with the term.”

“You really don’t want to know,” he answered.

The two humans grinned and tried not to laugh. Turess stood behind them, appearing confused at what was going on.

“Consider it a shop that sells paid matings.”

“Paid…I…Estin, get us out of here!” snapped Feanne, standing straight and tensing. She looked ready to claw at anyone who came near her.

“No harm will come to either of you,” the human man assured her, his tone soothing. “Nothing happens in this home without everyone’s consent, I assure you. The two of you and your quiet friend will be left alone. Our business has turned more toward knowledge and control over it in the last few weeks. Our repute is far less ill than it once was.”

Nervously shifting to put Estin between herself and the two humans, Feanne growled softly, holding Estin’s shirt as he walked. She stayed one step behind him as he went into the inn, watching the humans with angry fear. Estin knew he would have to explain the purpose of the house more explicitly to her, but that was not a conversation he really wanted to have, let alone on the front step of the inn. She had never spent time in large cities, and this was simply something that someone from the edge of the wilds would not fathom. Matings were done for fun, love, or convenience. Money itself was a difficult enough concept, but this would stretch the limits of her tenuous grasp on human culture.

He led Feanne into the inn, making sure to monitor her tension, ready to intercede if she tried to kill someone for offering her a drink or some other harmless activity. Turess followed them, his attention mostly on Feanne, watching her with a nervousness Estin guessed matched his own.

Once the three of them and the two human prostitutes were inside, the woman closed the door and barred it. The man peeked out the windows. After a moment, they gave each other nods and turned back to Estin, Feanne, and Turess.

“Welcome to the heart of our city’s new leadership,” the woman said, straightening her posture abruptly and taking on such a regal demeanor that Estin felt like he had watched a wildling change their patterning. “Our allies were the driving force in getting control over the city from Liris and her troops, while the priests were the muscle. If you wish to leave the city, tell us and we will attempt to smuggle you past the walls. Anything you need will be gotten for you. We all oppose the Turessian advance, and the three of you play into that. Tell us what you need to help your cause, and it will be done.”

Putting the tip of her nose near Estin’s ear from behind him, Feanne whispered a little too loudly, “What do paid matings have to do with governance of this city? I do not understand this at all.”

“I’ll explain later,” Estin told her quietly.

“Take any room you like and rest,” the human man told them, waving broadly at several halls that left the central room. “You are the only guests at the moment. Your wife may wish a proper explanation. We will be happy to give you time for that, unless you wish for us to explain. Meals will be prepared when you request them.”

Picking a hall at random, Estin led Feanne to the first room he could find, taking her inside a lavish chamber with a massive bed and plush rugs thick enough that his toes sank into them. Before he could close the door, Turess slipped in with them and moved to the edge of the room, watching them expectantly. Estin stared at him a moment, hoping he would get the hint and leave, but he remained still. Sighing, Estin resigned himself to ignoring Turess.

“Money and secrets have power in wars,” Estin explained once the door was shut. “Brothels have both and tend to be ignored by invaders. They probably started getting more powerful when the city was still fighting Rishad, and now that he’s working with them, it became a natural avenue for the flow of information. They have no reason to help the Turessians, but they will not join the fight directly.”

Feanne’s brow crinkled as she tried to work her way through the ideas. “How do you know any of this, Estin? I have never known you to broker information. That seems something better suited to Yoska.”

Estin’s cringe seemed to amuse Turess, who fought to hide a grin. Shooting him a warning glare, Estin replied, “I lived in a city without many wildlings for far too long before we met. I don’t want to go into any more detail than that. I was young and stupid in my own ways.”

Opening her mouth to ask something more, Feanne hesitated, eyes slowly widening. Laughing, she shook her head and sat on the bed. Feanne was unlikely to judge Estin for his mistakes, given a few of her own, but she would certainly find humor in them, which hurt him almost as much as having her judge him.

“And you…,” Estin began again, feeling genuinely angry as he turned on Turess. “How much do you understand?”

Turess gave Estin a fairly convincing look of confusion, but Estin could see in his eyes that he knew exactly what had just been asked of him.

“I’m not falling for that again. Dalania already played that game well past my patience. How much?”

“Ne mott,” Turess replied, holding up his hands defensively.

“I will tear your face off if you keep lying,” Estin insisted, taking a step closer.

Dropping the act, Turess smiled mischievously and shrugged. “Few words. Wanderer talk much. Got words listening. Still learning words.”

“He’s smart, I’ll give him that,” Estin said, going to sit beside Feanne on the bed, who nodded without really looking up from staring at the rug. She seemed entirely lost in thought. “What’s our plan, Turess? You’re the great strategist, or so I hear. What do we do now?”

Frowning, Turess answered slowly, “We have not prophecies. Wandering man still has. Only guesses without them, yes?”

“You’re sounding like Yoska. We need to work on your accent before people think you’re a gypsy. Besides, didn’t you write those prophecies? Why would you need them?”

Turess mouthed the words Estin had spoken, as though sounding them out in his mind. After a moment, he answered, “Spend time dead and memories break. I see in fox’s eyes she understand, yes? My things gave some old thought back, but last days gone. Prophecy not in head anymore.”

“The bracelet and other items?” Feanne asked, nodding at the silver bracelet Turess wore. “Those are how you remembered yourself? I had nothing like that.”

Turess lifted his sleeve and touched the bracelet reverently, nodding his agreement. Raising his other sleeve, he jingled the chain he had wrapped around his hand and wrist. “We have memory when we see or smell things. I use magic to make better memories on some items. Without items, I would be new man. Start over, not best way help.”