Fifth Quarter (43 page)

Gyhard snorted. "Isn't that one of your lines," he asked Karlene. "The heroes approach their destination, tension rises, and one of them says, 'It's too quiet.' No one ever says it in the real world."

"Who asked you?" Bannon snapped and Vree repeated, "Something's wrong." The angle of the sun backlit the station, throwing everything between the road and the long, low building into shadow. Nothing stirred in the area of scuffed dirt nor could she see movement through the open doors and shutters that led to the living quarters and the stables. She smelled neither cooking fires nor cooking.

"And given the way the army uses onions," Bannon muttered, "that's saying something."

The only sound came from the two horses who paced round and round the corral—tails whipping at the air. As Vree studied the area, searching for danger, a pair of crows took off from the ridgepole, their calls like cruel laughter. The hair lifted off the back of her neck. "A bad omen…"

"They're birds, Vree. Nothing more." Gyhard continued moving slowly up the road. He walked backward, taking small steps, unwilling to stop, unwilling to be a stationary target.

"Who asked you?" Bannon growled again, but this time Vree caught the words behind her teeth.

She stared at the three sunbursts hanging limp in the sultry air. She stared at the horses. She narrowed her eyes and stared into the shadows. "The cart went off the road here," she said at last and dragged her horse's head around.

"We're so close. We
have
to keep going."

Vree nodded. "You go on. I'll catch up."

Gyhard threw up his hands and started back toward her. "That's one of the stupidest ideas I've ever heard. We chase Kars, you chase us…"

"I hate to agree with the carrion eater, sister-mine, but he's right. We have to stay together."

"Fine. He can stay with me."

Karlene stood in the center of the road, torn between two directions. They were close to the prince, less than a day's walk away. If they kept moving, kept moving quickly, they might catch him before dark regardless of what Vree thought. But the cart had gone off the road and there were no kigh to tell her if Kars had left behind any of his walking dead. She took one last, longing look in the direction of the prince and turned her horse toward the station.

"Vree, why are you doing this? Don't you realize the risk you're running?" Gyhard knew better than to grab her arm but his hand hovered in the air beside her.

"You don't have to run it with me."

"Yes, he does, Vree. He's in my slaughtering body!"

"As for why…" She paused, searching for the words. "The army is the only family an assassin has. I have to know. I have to…"

In answer, Vree pointed to the cart tracks cutting up into the station yard and the tracks cutting back to the road. "He had at least three more people with him when he left."

The blood inside the building filled in the details.

"Why does he want more?" Karlene demanded, pacing back and forth, savagely twisting a new braid into her hair.

"I told you, he's insane. He doesn't have reasons for what he does." Gyhard stuffed a half-dozen onions into a bag with a canvas sack of rice. The station's food had been disturbed but so inefficiently he suspected that Kars had ordered one of the dead to do it. "Maybe he thought His Highness needed more company."

"No." Vree straightened and let the lid of the trunk she'd been searching fall. "Not company. Defense. Weapons and armor are missing. That cart left with an armed escort. A dead escort," she added through clenched teeth.

Karlene stared at her. "You're angry." Actually, the tone of her voice had been closer to blind fury. "You were never
this
angry about the prince."

"I never knew the prince."

"You never knew these people either," Gyhard pointed out. "You spent your life in the other end of the Empire."

"I knew them." Vree picked up a tin tinderbox stamped with three sunbursts from the plank table and closed her fingers tightly around it. Three sunbursts, not six, but that was the only difference. The sudden sense of loss nearly overwhelmed her and as she struggled under its weight, Bannon usurped control. "I'm going to rip that slaughtering carrion eater limb from limb! I'm going to cut out his living heart and slaughtering feed it to him!"

"Kars is mine." It wasn't a tone that could be argued with for all its quiet. Gyhard set the bag of food on the table and met Vree's eyes. "Stay away from him, Bannon."

"Or you'll what? What can you do to me that's worse than this?" He spread his sister's arms wide. "Go ahead. Take your best shot."

"If I could throw you out of there, I would."

"Throw me out so you can climb in yourself? You'd like that, wouldn't you?" The peal of laughter had a maniacal ring. "Well, you're not going to ever get the chance."

All at once, Gyhard found Vree's hands locked around his throat, Vree's eyes staring into his, Bannon's kigh trying to force his way back into Bannon's body. He staggered, almost fell, and then contemptuously flicked Bannon away.

Vree's hands fell away and she dropped to her knees, head thrown back and mouth open in a silent scream.

"He's in there too tightly to push out," Gyhard murmured, unable to look away from the vulnerable arc of Vree's throat. "He just snapped back."

"She wouldn't have thanked you for killing him," Karlene snarled, moving up behind him. She wanted to help but had no idea of what she could do. "Vree?"

The tendons in Vree's neck stood out like rope. Muscles twisted under her skin. Her throwing daggers slipped out of their wrist sheaths and clattered on the flagstone floor.

"We can't just leave her like that." Karlene pushed forward and took a deep, calming breath.
"Vireyda Magaly!"

Gyhard glared at her suspiciously. "What are you doing?"

"There's power in a name." She threw the explanation at him as she stepped closer and used all the Voice she had.
"Vireyda Magaly! I'm calling you!"

Vree jerked, once, twice, then collapsed as every muscle relaxed at the same time.

Gyhard beat the bard to the floor. Disregarding both the danger and the audience, he scooped her up into his arms and rested his cheek against the top of her head. For a heartbeat, he thought she relaxed into his hold, then there was no mistaking her desire to be released. He let her go before she could reach for a dagger.

Moving slowly, she stood and half smiled at the bard. "Thank you. Bannon, by the way, says you're an interfering, slaughtering sow."

Karlene returned the smile. "You're welcome."

"Are you all right?" Gyhard's voice held only mild interest, but he had less control over his expression.

Vree bent and picked up her daggers. "At least this time I stayed conscious." Her voice matched his for lack of emotion. "Why aren't you asking if I'm sane anymore?"

She was standing so close he could feel the heat of her body. He shrugged. "Because I wouldn't believe the answer."

"Bannon has some names for you, too, but if I repeated them all we'd be here past dark." She returned the daggers to the sheaths and pulled her sleeves down again. "I'm going out to release the horses. There's plenty of grazing and they can drink out of the river. The army can round them up when it arrives."

"Shouldn't we take the horses?" Karlene wondered.

Vree shook her head. "No. There're three of us and only two of them. We'd still be moving at the speed of one of the three we're riding now." She walked slowly to the door without any of her usual grace. "I'll be waiting outside."

When she heard the gate in the corral squeal open, Karlene raked Gyhard with her gaze. "If you drive him insane, you'll lose her, too."

"I know that." He picked up the bag of food.

"Funny way to show you love her."

"What do you suggest I do, die for her." His laugh held no humor. "That sort of thing only happens in bardic tales, not in real life."

"So you'll kill her?"

It took a moment for Gyhard to realize Karlene did not mean a death as simple as a knife slid under the ribs. "As you said, Lady Bard, there's no possibility of a happy ending."

"Vree?"

Vree stood back from the high gate so that the two station horses could, if they wanted it, have a clear path to the river. Had she still worn a uniform, they might have trusted her. As it was, they rolled their eyes and stayed by the opposite curve of the fence, masking their fear by aggressive posturing. She knew how they felt.

Bannon was silent for a long moment. "You're mad because of what I said to
him
, aren't you? Aren't you? Vree! Talk to me! Don't shut me out! You're all I have!" He paced the perimeter of his prison. "Oh, I get it. You're tired of being all I have. Did you ever think of how I slaughtering well felt during all those years of being all you had?"

"I
know
what you're feeling, sister-mine, whether you're willing to admit it or not."

She picked up a stone worn smooth by the action of the river and carried up from the shore by some third army soldier assigned to the station.

"I know what you think about
him
, Vree."

"I
said
it doesn't matter!" The stone whispered through the air and into a thornbush on the other side of the yard. Amidst the sounds of breaking twigs came the faint but unmistakable sound of metal on stone.

When Gyhard and Karlene came out of the building, Vree was squatting by the thornbush carefully probing the litter on the ground. As Gyhard went to give their horses a good feed of the station's grain, Karlene crossed to the assassin's side. "Did you lose something?"

"Not exactly," Vree murmured without looking up. "I threw a rock and hit metal where I shouldn't have."

Leaning over the other woman's shoulder, Karlene peered down into the debris under the bush. "Probably just a piece of junk from the station."

"Possibly." She flicked a somnambulant beetle off a twig. "But things where they aren't supposed to be are a good sign that something's wrong."

"Vree, we know what's wrong."

"Do we?" Vree jerked her head to the left. "There's two sets of prints over there. One of them, a man, took a piss. The other must've just watched. What does that say to you?"