Oathen (8 page)

“Which way to the Garden Gate?” Meena
asked.

Kemsil pointed. They dismounted and proceeded
toward the gate, leaving the horses behind. As they passed within
earshot of the front gate, they heard someone shout, “There are
no pirates
here, you gullible imbeciles!”

Around the curving wall they stalked, keeping
to the shadows and taking their time.

“There,” whispered Kemsil, as they hunkered
down in thick shrubbery. He gestured fifty feet ahead to a narrow
gate in the wall. Between it and them lay a varied profusion of
blooms and topiary. “Alima proposed to me here,” he added, his lips
twisting with the memory.

“And then the banns?” Salvor asked.

“Not immediately. I returned home without
giving her an answer, and when it became clear that I was not
willing after all, I was summoned here again. My family put me on
the boat themselves, and told me not to come back unless I brought
them honor.”

“Then why didn’t Aldib marry you to Alima when
you got here?” Geret asked, his voice barely audible.

Kemsil quietly laughed through his nose.
“You’ll recall that using the banns is unkind. No one of an
honorable House would wish to be seen as unkind or overbearing in
any way, not in this modern era. I was released, with the wedding
set two seasons ahead. It gave the appearance that all was well,
and that Jath was in perfect harmony with the wishes of
Aldib.”

Geret bit his lip. “Maybe being a prince of
Vint isn’t so bad, after all,” he murmured.

Salvor nodded. “All a matter of
perspective.”

“Shh,” Meena cautioned, cocking an ear toward
the Aldib compound. Shouting and the clash of metal began to waft
over the wall.

“That’s our cue,” she said, rising to her feet
and ghosting through the twilit garden. The gate guards had left
their posts, drawn toward the action. Reaching the gate, Meena
scurried up its crossbars and slithered through the narrow gap at
the top, right below the breastwork. But the gate didn’t open
immediately.

Kemsil’s heart began to thump; sweat broke out
on his forehead and palms. If something happened to Meena, the
Aldibans would certainly capture and kill him for failing to show
up at his wedding to Alima.

Finally, the gate opened. As Kemsil and the
others entered quietly, she muttered an apology for the delay;
she’d sprained an ankle leaping to the uneven ground and needed to
wait in the shadows for it to heal.

Kemsil took a moment to get his bearings.
Aldib soldiers were flocking toward the distant seacliff, running
into those who were just coming from there. Cries of “Pirates!”
were shouted down by those who had just been arguing with the
Nabalans.

He grinned. The chaos was beautiful to behold.
“This way,” he said, running through the night.

~~~

Sanych’s lungs were on fire. Crawling, she
reached for the next wooden step on the stairs that zigzagged up
the Aldib cliff. When the Nabalans had tried to storm the inland
gates of Aldib’s compound, a call to arms had sounded to defend
against the supposed attack. The Aldibans on the docks had used
their elevator cages to rise to the top of the hundred-foot cliff,
and the true invaders quickly and stealthily slipped from under
their kelp camouflage. Desperate to keep up on the steep wooden
stairs, Sanych was afraid that if she fell out of sight of the last
pirates, she’d be lost in the orchestrated chaos above.

She could hear the ring of steel and shouts of
surprise and fear. Wheezing in pain, she scrambled to the top step,
which merged with smooth stone flags atop the cliff, and sprawled
onto them, skinning her hands. A rough arm jerked her up before she
could catch her breath, and Sanych found herself face to face with
Captain Rhona m’Kora. The pirate’s turquoise eyes were fierce;
Sanych felt a wash of trepidation run through her.

“I’m the quest’s recorder,” she blurted over
the rising sounds of battle. “I needed to see—”

“Of course you did.” Rhona’s grip on her arm
tightened, and her eyes flicked to the long drop behind Sanych’s
heels. When her gaze met Sanych’s again, the naked ruthlessness in
her eyes was clear. “Be careful, Archivist. We wouldn’t want you to
fall while disobeying direct orders.”

“No…” Sanych squinted warily at Rhona,
belatedly realizing what the captain was implying. “That would be
unfortunate.”

Rhona jerked Sanych away from the edge,
pushing her onto her knees near a row of shrubbery. “Stay out of
the way. We’ll not be here long. See if you can be useful and
figure out how to use the lifts.” The captain stalked off into the
roiling melee, swords in her hands and a feral grin on her
lips.

Sanych shivered, rubbing her arm where Rhona
had squeezed it.
But my entire purpose is to record the events
of the expedition!
she thought, glaring after the pirate.
Rhona doesn’t understand that. She’s just transport, but she’s
acting like she’s taken over the whole quest. Maybe she’s jealous
that I’ve spent more time with Meena than she has.
Gritting her
teeth in frustration, she allowed herself to recall Rhona’s last
words.
The lifts
. She looked over at the nearest one and
recognized the mechanism that operated it: a simple double-ended
crank, operated by its passengers.

That was easy. Now, where is this
Pavilion?

~~~

Kemsil led Geret, Salvor and Meena to the end
of one of the larger buildings and pulled open the pale wooden
door. “Library, scribes, et cetera. The Pavilion is at the junction
of this wing and the next.”

Geret glanced behind them to make sure they
were not followed. So far, everyone they’d seen on the grounds had
been at a distance, either running toward the fighting or fleeing
from it.

They padded quietly down the marble corridor.
Its high white ceiling reflected the few lamps to great
effect.

Ahead, the hallway was blocked by a pair of
double doors. Kemsil grasped a handle and whispered, “Through here
are the historical records: Aldib’s revisionist hist—”

The door handle was pulled from his grasp as
someone yanked it from the other side. Kemsil stumbled forward and
collided with another body that was hurrying in his direction.
Geret and Salvor advanced immediately, swords out.

Kemsil had bumped into a woman in a light blue
gown. She and her two swordsmen stared at them, flatfooted. Geret
and Salvor darted through the doorway and held the men at sword
point, disarming them. Geret put a finger to his lips.

“We mean you no harm if you remain silent,”
Salvor said in Jualan.

“Yeah, he’s a real baby at the sight of
blood,” Geret added.

“K-Kemsil!?” the woman blurted, as her eyes
took in the sight of him. “What are you—”

Meena’s dagger sneaked in from behind her
shoulder, pinking the underside of her chin. The woman gasped in
pain and surprise. “Hush, now,” Meena admonished her.

“Alima,” Kemsil muttered, his voice a river of
emotions. He moved Meena’s blade aside with his hand.

Geret looked over at the woman Kemsil was to
have married. Nearly as tall as Meena, with brown eyes and a
fascinating mix of golds and coppers in her hair, she stood poised
even in the face of death. Her gown left her shoulders bare, and
her translucent silk scarf looped over her elbows. She would be a
perfect match for Kemsil, he thought, if not for the fact that she
was twice his age.

“What are you doing here?” she asked again,
though quietly. Her eyes were wide with shock and indignation. “Did
you come with the pirates?”

“Yes, and no,” he answered, stepping back from
her.

“Not a good time for light conversation,”
Meena warned in Versal, glancing behind them.

“Let’s leave her escort here, shall we?”
Kemsil replied in the same language.

“My most abject apologies,” Salvor said,
raising his sword. The guard in front of him raised his arms to
ward off the strike.

Geret hit the Aldiban on the back of the head
with his pommel, and the man collapsed bonelessly to the
floor.

“I wasn’t going—” Salvor began.

The other guard rushed at Geret; Meena pivoted
and smacked her pommel against his skull as well. He joined his
companion at the invaders’ feet.

Though shaken, Alima managed to keep her voice
level as she said, “At least you didn’t kill them. Thank
you.”

Kemsil glared at her as the others dragged the
two men into a side room, arguing quietly. “There are far worse
things than death,” he told her.

“Kemsil, the banns were not my
idea—”

“You willingly participated in a ritual that
ruined my life. I intend to return the favor, since I have the
opportunity.” He grasped her by the arm and forced her down the
corridor.

Geret exchanged a concerned glance with Salvor
and Meena, then followed Kemsil. Rounding the corridor’s last
corner, they came face to face with the Claim Pavilion of the House
of Aldib.

In the center of the great stone foyer stood a
tall, finely crafted stone pavilion. Nine slender marble pillars
held up the fluted roof, each carved with triumphant battle scenes
that wound in upward spirals. Between each pair of pillars, high
arching lintels told of alliances formed and lesser Houses
subjugated.

In the center of the pavilion, rotating in the
air over a short white pillar, gleamed the Circuit of
Sa’qal.

Inset in a polished steel gauntlet like a disc
of burnt-orange glass, the hollow-centered Circuit had long ago
been crafted to wear into battle. The otherworldly glow from its
crystalline surface gleamed ruddily despite the
lamplight.

A cool blue glow lit the marble floor around
the perimeter of the pavilion. “The wardline,” Kemsil said,
pointing.

“You can’t be serious,” Alima gasped, grasping
his intent.

Kemsil turned back to his companions. “In case
this doesn’t work…if I miscalculated, let me apologize now. I won’t
be able to later.”

Salvor nodded, eyes on the blue
wardline.

“Good luck,” Geret murmured, holding his sword
as if it might prove useful in defending against the
ward.

Kemsil put his hands on Alima’s shoulders and
propelled her across the wardline ahead of him. It flared white at
her passage, releasing a chime, and yellow at his. Even Alima
stopped protesting and turned to look at it. After several long
moments, it faded to pure white, and a second chime echoed through
the room.

“Kemsil, you cannot do this! It is not a
proper revenge!” she argued, stalking around him.

“Don’t say that, beloved,” he said in a
mock-sweet voice. With a tip of his head, he indicated the white
wardline. “We’re family. And don’t think I don’t see what you’re
doing.”

She had circled him so that she was positioned
closer to the Circuit than he was, and she lunged for it. Her
fingers just brushed the gauntlet’s passing edge, causing it to
wobble in its rotation, before he grabbed her by the waist and
flung her to the floor, where she skidded to a stop, gasping.
Kemsil turned and grasped the gauntlet before Alima could get up
and stop him.

Geret ran a hand through his hair, grimacing
at Kemsil’s desperate violence. Beside him, Meena merely watched
with interest.

“That does not belong to you! It is the Claim
of
my
House!” she cried, getting to her feet with a bloody
knee and torn skirt.

“Take that issue up with your magicians,
beloved. Clearly they believe otherwise.” He slid his arm through
the gauntlet. “I want you to lift the banns, Alima. Set me free,
and I’ll let you live.”

Her eyes focused on his arm. “Not even if I
could,” she said through clenched teeth. “You don’t know how to use
the Circuit, Kemsil. You shall die on Aldib soil tonight, not
I.”

She drew a long metal wand from her hair and
lunged at him before he could strap the Circuit on securely. He
caught her arm, and they struggled.

“Your feeble House will crumble at a single
breath of Aldib’s anger!” she cried. “We will wipe Jath from the
face of the sea!”

Salvor’s head whipped around. “I think I hear
trouble, and it’s wearing a lot of boots.”

“Oh good, that was you,” came a new voice.
Alima glanced toward the building’s main entrance. While she was
distracted, Kemsil shoved her away. Geret looked to the main doors
as well and saw Sanych pelting in, wheezing for breath.

Salvor, sword in hand, darted over and drew
her to the others. “What are you doing here?” he hissed.

She continued as if she hadn’t heard him. “I
heard a pair of chimes that echoed all over the grounds. Aldib’s
defenders are pulling back from Rhona’s pirates and coming
here.”

“You see?” Alima hissed. “They’re coming to
slaughter you for your impudence.”

Sanych turned and noticed the Aldiban
noblewoman for the first time. With a frown, she told her, “Not
yet, they’re not. I heard two of them saying they’d wait for the
others to gather outside with them, so the Patrus could conceal
them all and show the pirates what real power is.” She turned her
gaze to Kemsil. “They think that whoever is in here is about to
lead them to victory.”