Jane Carver of Waar (37 page)

HQ was another story. There were guards at the front doors and two pairs of guards patroling the perimeter at regular intervals.

We circled the place at a distance, looking for the weak point. There was a big first-floor window open around back, but it was about eight feet up and there wasn’t enough time between patrols for all of us to run over and for me to lift them in then climb up myself. We couldn’t make it all at once, but one at a time...

I went first, sprinting over the open ground and springing through the window in a head-first dive. I skidded across a polished marble floor and banged my head into a table leg, then jumped up, dancing around and rubbing my head and biting my fingers so I didn’t scream. When the pain wore off a little, I unbuckled my sword belt and gave the guys the high sign.

They waited until one of the patrols had just disappeared around the corner, then Sai ran full-tilt for the window. I lowered the buckle end of my sword belt to him. He grabbed it and I hauled him up, right before the second patrol came around the other corner.

We did it all over again with Lhan and we were in. The room looked like an officers’ mess, with a long table down the center loaded up with fancy plates and goblets. We listened at the door, then peeked out. Nobody. Lhan tip-toed down the hall, found the stairs and gave us the all-clear.

On the second floor we checked around again. It was almost deserted—only two guards posted outside a door. Guess where we needed to go.

Lhan pulled back around the corner. “That will be Kedac’s quarters.” He looked at Sai. “I believe the time for subtlety is past. Once you confront Kedac-Zir and confirm to your satisfaction that he is indeed complicit in your sister’s foul plan...”

Sai couldn’t let that pass. “He may yet prove himself a man of honor.”

Lhan smiled. “Then we will have nothing to fear, for being a man of honor, Kedac-Zir will see how cruelly you and Wen-Jhai have been tricked. He will bow gracefully out of the marriage and restore to you your freedom. If, however, he fails to live up to your hopes for him, then it becomes an affair of honor and none will dare interfere until you win. After that we give ourselves up and, armed with the knowledge of Vawa-Sar’s treachery, throw ourselves on the mercy of the Aldhanan’s justice.”

Sounded a mite too happy-ever-after to me. “I hope the Aldhanan’s justice is less bent than Arkansas justice.”

Sai bit his lip. “This all supposes that I win. If I fail?”

“Then we will all die gloriously.”

I groaned. “I knew there was a hitch somewhere.”

Lhan patted me on the shoulder and strolled around the corner like he owned the place. What the hell was I doing running around with these lunatics? One was too chicken for his own good, the other was too brave for mine. Sai and I exchanged a glance and followed reluctantly.

Lhan waved a cheery salute to the guards. “Ahoy, lads. How passes the night?”

They weren’t buying it. “State your business, sir.”

Lhan bowed toward Sai. “Dhan Sai-Far of Sensa desires audience with the Kir-Dhanan.”

They flicked a glance at me and tightened their grips on their swords. “How came you here?”

“The lads below passed us up. Kedac-Zir sent for us.”

They started to draw. “The Kir-Dhanan is not here. Put up your arms!”

Lhan and Sai drew too. Not good. Steel on steel would bring marines out of the woodwork like cockroaches. I slung my sheathed sword off my back and reached it over Sai’s shoulder as he parried his guard’s attack. I rang the guy’s bell with the flat, then back-handed the other one. They sagged into Lhan and Sai’s arms. Lhan motioned with his chin. “The door!”

It was locked, but the first guard had the key. I unlocked it and we dragged them in, then tied and gagged them. Kedac’s apartments were his castle all over again, lots of weapons and armor on the paneled walls, statues out of a Nazi whorehouse, a heavy desk and chairs, an eating area with chaise lounges and a simple bedroom through an arched door. But like the guard said, no Kedac. None of us had counted on that.

“What now? Somebody’s gonna miss those guards before long. We gotta find where Kedac is and skat. Like pronto.”

Too late. There were voices in the hall. “Ur? Sil? You louts, what was that banging...”

“Where have they gone?”

Lhan leaped to the door and turned the bolt. Just in time. Somebody rattled the handle, then...

“Something’s amiss. Rouse the guard. I’ll wait here.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And find a key!”

Now we were up the creek. Lhan and Sai ran to check the windows. I started searching for a closet to stash the guards in. For all the guys in the hall knew, Ur and Sil could have snuck off to get drunk. The longer it took everybody to realize that they’d been jumped, the longer it would take for them to start looking for us.

It was hopeless. Fucking backward Waarians hadn’t invented the closet yet. All Kedac’s crap was in wardrobes and trunks—too small to hide a couple of big marines in. I kept looking. Maybe there was a latrine. Some of the classier joints I’d been in had indoor plumbing. I pulled aside curtains and looked behind hangings.

The fifth tapestry I tugged on wouldn’t pull. It seemed to be attached at the bottom. I looked down. The lower left corner was stuck in the wall. Not tacked to it, but
in
it. I looked closer. There was a hairline vertical crack in the paneling . A secret door.

I just barely remembered to whisper. “Guys!”

Sai and Lhan came and had a look. Lhan immediately started pressing all the bits of decoration on the paneling near the door, looking for the catch. “A fortuitous discovery, mistress. There were guards below the window. Escape that way is nigh impossible. If this is a way out, we may yet survive the night.”

But nothing he pressed did anything. Sai and I joined in, poking every knob and bump in reach. No help.

A herd of footsteps came from the hall.

“No-one’s seen them, sir. But nothing untoward either.”

“Well, if ’tis nothing then they’ll be court-martialed. Let’s have that key.”

We went nuts. We pressed everything within five feet of the crack, hands flapping around like pigeons on crack. Then I looked up. There was a decorative molding along the top of the wall, all bumps and curlicues, all dusty. All except one bump. I pushed it. It sank in like a pinball flipper. There was a click. A section of the wall swung in an inch or so.

The key was turning in the hallway door. The guy outside was saying, “Swords out, men. Expect the worst.”

Lhan shoved the panel open. I grabbed the marines by their belts and walked them in like matching suitcases. Sai and Lhan crowded in and closed the door with a quiet click, just as we heard the door from the hall slam in.

“Ur-Nar? Sil-Tar? Right then, search the room.”

We put blades to the necks of the guards, in case they got stupid, and held our breath. What if the searchers knew about the secret door?

They didn’t. Either that or the boss guy didn’t want the grunts to know about it. Anyway nobody tried it, and after about five minutes they all trooped out again. The last thing we heard was, “You two stand guard until we find them. The rest of you search in pairs.”

Silence. We let out a big sigh of relief. Lhan smiled. “One doom avoided. Now let us discover if this place is our passage to salvation.”

We all turned. The space was pitch black. Lhan stumbled around until he found a lamp and lit it. We looked around. It was a little disappointing. Just another room just like the one we’d left, but a lot plainer, and with no windows; a big table, some chairs, and papers all over the place.

Sai sighed. “Maybe there is another door. Or a trap in the floor.”

We hunted around. There was a map laid across the table, held down with cups and plates, and scattered with what looked like tin soldiers. I didn’t give it a second glance, but Lhan saw it and did a double-take. “By the Seven and The One!”

Sai turned. “What is it?” Then he pulled the same face Lhan had.

I hate being the last to know. “What? What’s the big deal?”

Lhan turned to me, a terrible look in his eyes. “This... is a map of Ormolu.”

I didn’t get it. It looked like Kedac was playing out a battle around Ormolu. But so what? “So maybe he’s planning defense strategies or something.”

“The attacking pieces wear his colors.”

“Maybe he ran out of bad guy pieces.”

“Perhaps.” He and Sai started digging into the piles of paper. I joined in. I hadn’t had many chances to test it, but I could read their gibberish too, though nothing complicated.

I didn’t need any extra vocabulary for what I found. It was plain as day. The first thing I grabbed was a letter from some Dhanan which said, “You have my support and a thousand men. Too long have we suffered under the yoke of this money-mad tax farmer.” Another scrap read, “Once the marriage takes place there will be no stopping us. With the Aldhanshai’s blood joined to yours, your legitimacy will be beyond question.”

Lhan gave a gasp. “Sai, listen. ‘The barracks and storage facilities will be ready in six cycles, and I look forward to our new titles and lands under your glorious reign. Long live the new Aldhanan.’ ’Tis signed Vawa-Sar. That vile sister of yours isn’t just your betrayer, but the betrayer of the entire kingdom.”

But Sai was staring at the parchment in his hands like he could have burned holes in it. Lhan stepped toward him. “What troubles you, Sai?”

Sai handed him the parchment, silent and cold. Lhan read it aloud. “Beloved, Weh-Jhai yet lives. Through the pirate that attacked us I have traced her south to Doshaan. She is the slave of the Doshaani Dhanan Jur-Shim. The plan proceeds at last. I know how it irks you to pay suit to that brainless child, but once you wed her and take the throne as your destiny dictates, we will find a quiet little palace in the country for her and she will pass out of your mind entirely. How glorious will it be, you the ruler of all Ora, and I, your ruler of the bedchamber. Patience, beloved. Your devoted cousin, Mai-Mar.”

Sai looked like a statue of himself, as cold and hard as marble. I’d never seen him like this. He was almost intimidating. “He does not love Wen-Jhai. He must die.”

***

When we stepped back into Kedac’s study the windows were glowing a little. Sai went from fury to despair in one sharp drop. “Dawn! We’re too late! The marriage will start at full light. How can we cross twenty ilns of city in an instant when we have yet to even escape the camp?”

Lhan grinned. “We must look to those above for the answer.”

Sai was indignant. “You jest, Lhan? Not even the Seven can help us now!”

“Not the Seven, the skelshas. Come.”

There was no time to be clever. We just clobbered everybody we met. The guards outside the door were easy. Lhan jerked the door open, I grabbed ’em before they could turn, dragged them in and banged their heads together. We tied ’em up with the others.

There was another pair at the stairs to the roof. I ran at them ten feet a stride. They looked up at me like deer in the headlights. I clotheslined ’em out of their boots. We used their loincloths for gags and their swordbelts to hog-tie ’em.

Going up the stairs was scarier. We didn’t know who was up there, or how many. It turned out not a lot, but they were enough. They almost wrecked the whole thing.

We came up into a barn that stank like the world’s biggest bird cage. There was a wide aisle down the middle with a big open door at one end and caged-in roosts down either side. Behind the cage bars the huge dark shapes of skelshas rustled and murmured on stepped-back rows of roosting poles. They looked like the Spanish Inquisition in leather robes. I didn’t much care for the long jaws full of alligator teeth. Who ever heard of birds with teeth?

We were just peeking out the barn door, checking for guards on the roof, when we heard a voice behind us. “Who is it now? Who needs to fly at this Seven-cursed hour?”

We spun around. A bent old guy was stepping out of a room at the back, sleepily strapping on his harness. Lhan walked toward him, talking fast. “We do, old fellow. Three of your swiftest skelshas.”

The guy squinted in the dark. “Captain Nar? Is that you? I’ll need a written... You’re not Captain Nar.”

But Lhan had already reached him. He slammed the old timer to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. “Sorry, friend. Stay still and you’re in no peril.” He gagged and hog-tied the old man.

I checked the roof. The three lookouts I could see hadn’t heard us.

Lhan rolled the old guy to one side. “Quickly. The roost doors.”

We helped him open the doors. The skelshas got restless, but Lhan moved through them whispering and stroking and they calmed down again. He untied three of them and led them out one at a time as Sai took saddles and bridles from a rack and started saddling them.

I’ll be honest. The idea of riding one of these things gave me the willies. I’m not afraid of heights, and I’ve ridden damn near everything from a rodeo bull to a blown-fuel Buell drag bike, but I’ve also wrecked just about all of them once or twice climbing that old learning curve. That wasn’t exactly an option here—once we got airborne the pavement was a long way down. I listened real careful as Sai gave me the crash course, so to speak.

We were so focused we didn’t hear the little bastard behind us until it was too late. He was just a kid, a stable boy. He must have been sleeping in the same room with the old guy. We forgot to check.

I caught him out of the corner of my eye, sneaking for the stairs. “Hey! You!”

I jumped up and ran at him, but he went like a rabbit, and started screaming like a banshee. “Murderers! Spies! Assassins! Help! Help! Help!”

Lhan called me back. “It is too late! We must fly, now!”

He was right. There were shouts coming up from below, and running footsteps out on the roof. Lhan and Sai cinched their saddle straps tight and mounted up. I tried to do it like they did, but my skelsha rolled his eyes and flapped aside like a skittish window shade. He could tell how freaked out I was and that freaked him out, which was freaking me out. It was freak-out feedback.