Courage Of The Conquered (Book 3) (13 page)

A moment later he followed. He looked
around and was satisfied that he had chosen well. There were no windows in the
other buildings high enough to look out onto this roof. They should be safe
here, at least for a while, until they could figure out what to do next.

Unexpectedly, she put her arms around him
and gave him a kiss.

“I thought I’d lost you,” she whispered.

Lanrik looked her straight in the eye.
“I’m hard to kill. Especially when I have so much to live for.”

“So I’ve noticed.” She rested her head on
his shoulder. “Now, tell me what happened.”

He explained to her how the charred-man
had pursued him, leaving out that he had ensured that it did so, and of his
final ploy in the city aqueduct.

She asked him several questions about the
specifics of its reaction to water. Neither of them could be certain if that
was a weakness in Ebona’s witchery, or if the creature’s ungainliness simply
meant that it could not swim.

“It won’t give up the hunt,” Lanrik said.

“No. Ebona has done something to it. I
mean, apart from the obvious. It’s driven to find us. Tormented every moment
that it doesn’t. But at least now I’m prepared if it finds us again.”

Lanrik was not so confident. He had seen
it struck by lòhren-fire, and even that most deadly form of lòhrengai had
proved ineffective. Erlissa would need to think of something else.

“So,” she said after a pause. “The
creature just chased you? I don’t believe it.
You
did something to make
that happen, didn’t you?”

Lanrik looked away. He did not want to
answer, but he did not want to lie to her, either.

She put a hand over his. “We’re in this
together. No more splitting up. No more
anything
by ourselves. Well do
what we have to do in Esgallien, and we’ll do it together. Even if it means
fighting the charred-man, or anyone else that we must. And when we’re done,
we’ll get out of here and meet Aranloth.”

He was not surprised that she had worked
out that the creature had followed him at his own instigation. What surprised
him, even impressed him, was that although she was upset that he had taken that
risk for her, she did not make a point of saying so. Instead, she just made
sure that he understood that there was only one way forward for them now,
whatever happened. 

“All right. We’re in this together. No
matter what.”

She patted his hand. “Now, what do we do
next?”

It was a good question, and Lanrik had no
easy answer. They discussed a few more details, such as how she had evaded
capture during the night and where she had gotten her disguise. And then he
mentioned the park and the guards surrounding it.

“Conhain’s Rest,” she said. “Now, that
really
is
strange.”

“There was just no reason for them to be
there,” he added.

“And yet, there must be.”

He raised his palms. “I can’t figure it
out.”

She tapped her fingers against the staff.
“I think it’s just too much of a coincidence.”

“What do you mean?”

“Conhain was Ebona’s worst enemy. It was
by Aranloth that her power was broken when Esgallien was founded, and yet
without Conhain, the people would have fallen under her sway. It was their love
for him that won out – a feeling that she could never inspire.”

“But that was nearly a thousand years ago.
What could Conhain have to do with things now? She killed him, or her dogs did,
anyway.”

“Yes. She killed him, but her hatred did
not die with the deed.”

“I don’t understand.”

She looked at him. “There’s a reason that
no one knows where Conhain is buried. There’s a reason there are so many
rumors, but so little truth on the subject.”

“I’ve heard it said,” replied Lanrik,
“that he might be buried in the park. I’ve heard lots of things said, but I
still don’t understand what any of it has to do with Ebona. Or the guards who surround
the park.”

“Everything, or nothing. I’m not sure, but
I know this, for Aranloth told me himself. When our ancestors founded the city,
there was an ever-present risk of treason and corruption. Some remained who
would conspire with our enemies, especially those who once had served Ebona.
Her influence was broken, and theirs along with it, yet it was feared that out
of spite they might desecrate Conhain’s grave. They had sworn to do so.” She
paused, taking her time to consider what she would say next.

“And of course,” she continued, “there was
also a chance that others, less hateful, but more greedy, would plunder the
tomb. Much that Conhain owned was interred with him, and most of his
possessions were gifted to him by the Halathrin. There are treasures inside his
tomb beyond the wealth or craft of humanity.”

Lanrik had thought he knew the history of
the city, but it was clear that even the Raithlin had gaps in their lore.

“So
that’s
why no one knows where
he was buried. It makes sense,” he said.

“It was Aranloth’s plan. But a few do
know, have always known, where he was buried. A few who guard the tomb, who
keep watch on things, and make sure his sleep is not disturbed.”

“So Conhain really
does
rest in the
park?”

She nodded. “Yes. But think, Lanrik, there’s
more.”

He closed his eyes and considered all that
she had said. That someone, or some group, guarded it through the years was
key. Whoever they were, they would be trusted.

He opened his eyes. “The Lindrath,” he
said. “Not just the present one, but all the Raithlindrath’s from the founding.
Who would be better trusted to keep the secret and watch over things?”

She nodded. “Yes. And your Lindrath was
the last to hold that secret. He learned it from his predecessor, and he knows
also that the tomb is shielded. Not just watched by himself, but protected. For
Aranloth himself built the tomb, and he set forces to work there to guard
against Ebona and her allies, knowing that although her power was broken, she
would one day return. Conhain’s tomb is the one place in Esgallien that she
cannot go, that she cannot destroy, nor have men destroy for her. For ùhrengai,
the same sort of force that protects Lòrenta, infuses it.”

Lanrik ran a hand through his hair. “So
you think that when the Lindrath escaped, he went there for protection?”

“Yes. It makes sense. He’s in the tomb,
and the guards are there to ensure he doesn’t escape. For while they cannot get
in, likewise, he cannot get out, and must die of thirst or hunger, eventually.”

Lanrik shrugged. “If I know the Lindrath,
and if what you think is really true, they’ll be waiting a long time, for he’ll
have stockpiled supplies there. If not before, then certainly after Ebona came
to the city.”

She raised her eyebrows. “I didn’t think
of that. I hope you’re right.”

Lanrik let out a sigh. “None of this
really makes sense, though. If the tomb is protected, how could he get inside
it? And if he did, why are they guarding the whole park? They could save
enormous expense and manpower by just surrounding the tomb.”

“The tomb is protected. But there
is
a way in, for those who know. Just as there’s a way into Lòrenta. And you’re
assuming that he’s trapped in there. What if there were tunnels, leading out in
any direction, finding their exit in any part of the park? Ebona could not know
where. They would have to guard everywhere.”

“
Are
there tunnels?”

Erlissa shrugged. “I don’t know. And
neither could Ebona. Aranloth only mentioned these things to me in passing. It
was just something that lòhrens should know, he never went into detail.”

Lanrik thought about it all. No matter
which way he looked at it, it was plausible. The thing that confirmed it to him
was the number of guards. So many of them. So much expense. Nothing could
justify that except the prospect of capturing the Lindrath, or ensuring his
death.

“I think you’re right,” he said at last.

“I do, too. But what are we going to do
about it?”

“The only thing we can. The one thing that
the Lindrath needs most. The one thing that Ebona wants the least. We have to
rescue him.”

Erlissa looked at him. Her eyes had
widened, and he saw many things there, including outright fear. But he did not
see unwillingness.

“You always come up with the boldest of
ideas,” she said. “But tell me, how can we do it? He’s guarded by what must
amount to most of Esgalliens army. How can we possibly get in there, let alone
get out again?”

Lanrik rubbed his chin. “There’ll be a
way. Let me think on it.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt there’s a way. And I
don’t doubt you’ll discover it. And it’ll be sure to be something so
breathtaking in its audacity, so outright crazy, that it just might work.”

He winked at her. “Well, you know all
about that sort of thing. You pulled off something like that yourself just
earlier. Who else but you would, or even could, impersonate the Witch-queen?”

Erlissa grinned. “She’ll be annoyed when
she learns of that
 
…”

“
Very
annoyed. And yet, I can live
quite easily with her discomfit.”

He sat back, more serious now. “All right,
I have an idea. But if we try it, we’ll pass far beyond our arrangement with
Aranloth. We’ll not just be learning of all that’s going on in the
city – we’ll be actively defying Ebona, and there may be consequences
to that.”

“Yes, but we’ve already gone beyond our
original mission. Circumstances made us. Aranloth won’t like it, but he’ll
understand.”

Erlissa tilted her head after she spoke
the lòhren’s name, and Lanrik saw a look of concern cross her face. It passed
after a moment, and she looked back at him.

“So, tell me. What’s this idea of yours?”

It was a long afternoon. The sun beat down
upon the roof, and there was no shade. They dozed fitfully, coming alert at the
slightest sound, but few people entered the alley, and those who did were
oblivious to the fugitives hiding above them.

At length, dusk came to the city. Dark
shadows crept into the alleys and lanes, and the air cooled. But the tiles did
not. They remained hot and uncomfortable.

Of one thing, Lanrik was grateful. He had
not seen any soldiers or guards. Had the search for them moved to another part
of the city? There was no way to know. But he was sick and tired of hiding.

When the sun had set, and even the glow of
it had disappeared from the horizon, he woke Erlissa. It was time to dare the
streets once more.

The plan that he had conceived would work
equally well during the day or night, but having come to the conclusion that
the Lindrath was in the park, he wanted to reach him as quickly as possible. He
needed help, and they would bring it to him without delay. At least, they would
try.

But Lanrik had no illusions that his plan
was not risky. More risky even than infiltrating an enemy army. For this time,
his skills as a Raithlin would be near useless.

They slipped down from their hiding place
without noise or problem. Nevertheless, when they reached the alley, Lanrik
gave Erlissa her staff and drew his sword. Royal Guards were not the only thing
to fear, and they were in just as much danger from thieves and ruffians.

They began to move through the lanes and
alleys, heading back toward the inner city and the Hainer Lon. It was quiet all
about them. There were no nighttime revelers. The streets seemed hushed, even
brooding.

Esgallien was effectively a conquered
nation, and yet he had seen signs that its people were ready to reclaim their
freedom. He felt it now as he walked through the empty streets. It was
too
quiet. And not the quiet of fear. Anger and resentment festered. Like a living
thing, it wandered the streets with them. It occupied every house and every
tenement building that they passed. It was the heartbeat of Esgallien.

Things must have been subdued after the
Raithlin had left. But now word was spreading of a new Raithlin in the city,
and the Witch-queen’s efforts to find him. That had reawakened their spirit. He
just hoped that it did not get them killed. 

Something made him suddenly wary, and he
slowed and placed himself in front of Erlissa. For a few moments, he stood
still and silent. Nothing happened. And then he caught the glint of naked
steel.

A group of three men emerged from the
shadows. They had heard him and Erlissa coming, perhaps were even waiting here
for victims. There was no doubt that they were thieves. And yet they were not
prepared for a man with his sword already drawn. A man who stood his ground,
without sign of fear, and that was ready for them.

They exchanged glances among themselves.
Dim figures in the shadows though they were, he read the will to attack in
them. But doubt vied with it.

He continued to gaze at them coolly,
saying nothing, but regarding them with indifference. That made a greater
statement than any words he could say.

The long moments passed, and then the
group lost their nerve. This was too risky for them. It was something beyond
the usual, and their knives were no match for a sword, though they held three
blades to his one.

The men backed away, and then hastened
down the street. Lanrik watched them until they were out of sight. And then he
listened carefully. He heard their steps break into a full run.

Erlissa chuckled. “I’d have run too, had
the look on your face been directed at me.”

“What look?”

“The one that said,
I don’t care if you
live or die. I just don’t want to nick my sword on your bones
.”

Lanrik grinned in the dark. “That’s a
useful look to have. Sometimes it saves a lot of problems.”

They moved ahead. The streets grew wider
once more, and people were more frequent. But it was an eerie night, as though
the city was waiting for something. Lanrik did not like it. It only added to
the pressure, for what they must soon attempt was so dangerous, so filled with
risk and the potential for disaster, that his nerves were already on edge.

He concentrated instead on the intended
result. If they were successful, they would have the one thing that even
Aranloth dared not hope for. The Lindrath. His information about the city and
the Witch-queen would be priceless. And that did not even take into account the
personal side of things. The Lindrath was good man, a man who had tutored him,
taught him, guided him like a father, and been there for him through many
troubles. He was the closest thing that Lanrik had to family, saving his uncle.
And during much of the time that he had known the Lindrath, he had thought his
uncle was dead.

Lanrik put these thoughts from his mind as
well. He must think only of the task ahead, and how best to perform it, rather
than the possible consequences. 

They went as close as they could to the
park before they stepped out onto the Hainer Lon. Just before they did, he
paused for a moment.

“Are you sure you want to do this? There’s
no backing out once we start.”

“I’m sure. If things go
wrong – they go wrong.”

He looked at her a while, and she returned
his gaze. There was no other like her in all Esgallien. Perhaps all Alithoras.
She had courage, intelligence, determination. She wielded power that he could
not quite comprehend, and her strength was increasing month by month. She was
little more than a lòhren in training, and yet she already had her staff, and
the land had called upon her, put her through enormous trials, and she had come
out the other end. Truly, she was one of a kind, and he would rather face
trouble with her than anyone else that he knew.

He winked at her. “To luck,” he said.

She winked back. “To luck.”

They moved along the Hainer Lon. The park
was on their right now, the ring of soldiers still there, lining the way and
continuing into the darkness.

Lanrik stayed in the shadows as long as he
could, but when he saw what he wanted, a captain of the Royal Guard inspecting
the line, the time had come.

He stepped out into the light, Erlissa by
his side, and walked straight toward the man. He made no effort to conceal
himself, or to draw a weapon. His mission tonight was one of words. They were
his weapon. They would see him win or lose the quest.

Surprisingly, they reached the captain
without being challenged. Neither he nor the soldiers paid them any attention.

Lanrik came to a standstill, only a few
paces away. Finally, the captain looked at him.

“It’s your lucky night,” Lanrik said.

The captain stared at him blankly at
first, and then irritation crossed his face. His gaze shifted to Erlissa, and
then back to him. And then the look of irritation swiftly turned to one of
wide-eyed fear and excitement.

The man drew his sword. Lanrik stood motionless.

“Good. You know who we are. But you won’t
need that. Not if you truly serve Ebona.”

The captain screamed out. “To me! To me!”

The soldiers up and down the line seemed
surprised, and he kept on screaming until about thirty of them broke away from their
watch and came over.

“It’s them!” the captain yelled.

“Of course it’s us,” Lanrik said. “Who
else?”

“Take them!” the captain ordered.

The soldiers hesitated. Some of them had
realized who they were, but their heart was not in the pursuit as much as those
of the Royal Guard’s. They moved in slowly.

Lanrik drew his sword. The soldiers
stilled. Even the captain stopped shouting. A moment Lanrik held it in his
hand, and then he casually tossed it to the ground at the man’s feet.

“A sign of goodwill,” he said. “You need
no soldiers now. We’re on the same side again.”

“Which side is that?” asked the captain.

“Ebona’s, naturally. We’ve agreed to serve
her, and just in time, it appears.”

The soldiers remained still. Lanrik
thought that many of them looked at him in disappointment, at least those out
of view of the captain.

“Do you expect me to believe that?”

“Of course. Why else would we come to you?
Why else would I disarm myself? Only idiots would do that, unless we were on a
mission – one given to us by Ebona herself. One that she is most
interested in seeing succeed.”

The captain was not convinced. “Then why
isn’t she with you?”

“A good question. You can ask her
yourself, if you care to, when she arrives shortly.”

“Where is she?”

“She’s dealing with a little problem at
the moment. It seems the lòhren Aranloth is in the city as well. She’ll be
along soon to sort all this out.”

“Then we’ll just wait here, all together
and nice and cozy, until she does.”

Lanrik raised an eyebrow. “Really? Well,
that’s fine by me. Although I rather think she might hope to see more progress
when she arrives.”

“Progress at what?”

“In capturing the Lindrath, of course.
What else did you think this was about?”

“And what can you possibly do that
thousands of soldiers couldn’t?”

Lanrik maintained his nonchalant attitude,
but his heart raced at the confirmation that the captain had just provided. The
Lindrath really
was
here.

“Tsk, tsk. You really have to ask? I’m not
sure Ebona is going to be happy with you.”

“Stop calling her Ebona. She’s the
queen
.”

“You can call her queen if you like. She’s
Ebona to me. I knew her long before she came to the city, you know.”

“Well, you still haven’t answered me. What
can you do that an army cannot?”

Lanrik sighed. “For starters, I can get
into Conhain’s tomb, the place where he’s hiding. I’m a Raithlin, after all.
And I’m his friend besides. I can convince him to come out with me; a thing
that you cannot. And I rather think that Ebona would like to see that. She has
questions for him.”

“I’m sure she does. So what am I supposed
to do? Just let you walk in there and come back with a prisoner in your own
good time?”

Lanrik shook his head. “Of course not. I
didn’t really expect you to trust me. But you have my sword. You have us
surrounded. Bring as many men as you think you need to ensure your safety, and
come along with us. It shouldn’t take too long.”

The captain stared at him. Lanrik read
doubt on the man’s face, but he read fear there as well. Fear of Ebona, and
having to answer to her if his choices were not in line with her expectations.
If he delayed things, it might cost him his life. If he went ahead as
suggested, well, what could really go wrong?

The captain came to his decision. He gave
orders, and twenty soldiers formed a circle around them.

“Really? Twenty men? Should I be
flattered, or insulted?”

“Let’s just get this over with.”

“As you wish.”

Lanrik did not hesitate. He walked into
the park, Erlissa by his side, and the twenty-man guard. He felt a pang as he
left the sword behind on the grass, but there was no way to take it back. They
would not let him, and if he tried, it would make them suspicious. At least
this way, unarmed and at their mercy, he had control of the situation. The
irony of that thought made him laugh out loud.

“Something amusing?” asked the captain.

“Many things,” replied Lanrik. “Many
things. But mostly this: isn’t life strange? Yesterday and today, you were
chasing me. But now you give me an honor guard so that I can fulfill Ebona’s
greatest desire.”

“It’s not an honor guard!”

“It’s not? Well, if it isn’t now, it will
be when she arrives. You won’t want to miss out on being the captain that
helped me get her the Lindrath. Not if you ever wish to be more than captain.”

The man did not answer, and Lanrik knew he
had him just where he wanted him. He was still suspicious, as any man must be,
and yet he now mostly believed the story.

They walked through the park, crossing
near the grove of trees where he had seen the fox last night. He wondered where
it was. Probably safe and secure somewhere, if he knew foxes.

It was different in the park than in the
city. He felt more at home here. It was as though he was in the wilderness, and
the park, especially at night, were assets to him. Not so much the soldiers,
should it come to a confrontation. His plan hinged on avoiding that, though.

Away in the city he heard a dog bark, and
then another. It was not a sound of the wilderness, for where there were no
men, there were no dogs. He was more used to the howling of wolves, the yelping
of foxes, and the harsh and drawn out hawing of aurochs in the swamps.