Six Heirs (23 page)

“Don’t be so difficult, it’s no use,” the first man continued. “You’ll end up telling anyway, whether it’s me or those nutcases in red. It’s simply a matter of time and pain.”

Yan was frozen with fear. Was this guy threatening him with torture? Did he not just admit loud and clear his involvement with the Züu? Yan clenched his dagger and held it in front of him, his thumb on the blade, like Grigán had shown him. It must not have had as impressive an effect as intended, because the first man burst out laughing. As for the beggar, he just continued inching his way toward his companion.

Why so slowly?

“All right, you want to play?” said the other, as he pulled a curved blade out from underneath his cloak. “With pleasu—”

The beggar, who was now right behind the louse, violently raised the other man’s chin with one hand. With a dagger held in his other hand, he traced a dark groove across his throat, which quickly gushed forth blood as it widened. The wounded man let out a few sickening gurgles and collapsed.

The murderer leaned down and wiped his blade with his victim’s clothes.

“Even when they’re dying, they’re revolting. These fellows really have no style. Except for pretending to be me, of course.”

Yan kept hold of his dagger. What was going on here?

“Oh! I hope you aren’t too upset with me, depriving you the pleasure of ridding us of this fat heap. An opportunity presented itself, so...”

Yan stared blankly at the beggar, who had by now put away his dagger and stared back at him with his hands on his hips.

“I mean, I hope you aren’t too upset with me for saving your life and all.”

“Um...Thanks,” mumbled Yan.

He couldn’t dispel the image of this man coldly killing the other. It was going to be just as hard to grant his trust to this newcomer.

“Who are you?” he asked, with a feeling of déjà vu.

“Rey Kercyan, the original. And it’s just Rey, not Reyan. This guy should have known that I don’t let anyone call me Reyan. That’s way too fourteenth eon. And you, Mr. Horse Thief?”

“Yan. And this horse belongs to me!”

“The door too? As well as the lock?”

The Kaulien remained silent.

“Come on, I’m kidding. Let’s not hang around.”

The so-called Rey leaned over the body again, from which he pulled out a dirty purse that he weighed in his hand, a disdainful look on his face. Shocked, Yan didn’t want anything to do with this immoral man. This reeking man had to be aiming for some sort of reward he didn’t want to share with anyone, which is why he killed his accomplice. He certainly wasn’t an heir!

“I must leave you,” attempted Yan. “Thanks again.”

“Wait!”

It wasn’t an order, and no sudden movement was made to stop him, so Yan decided to hear him out, for a few moments at least.

“I heard what you said earlier. Everything you said. Since I got here a dékade ago, it’s the first bit of good news I’ve received. You don’t have to believe me, of course, but I’m also part of the family. To my misfortune,” he added, in a low voice.

Yan didn’t know what to think. His tone seemed sincere, but the stakes were too high. It could merely have been part of some scheme to locate Yan’s friends.

“I can’t take you to them. I don’t even know you.”

“I know, I wouldn’t have thought otherwise. So, go find them and tell them I’m alive. I’ve grown up a little since they last saw me, but surely they’ll remember this: tell them I’m the boy who lit the tent on fire a few years ago. They can’t have forgotten that,” he added with a smile.

Yan nodded. He didn’t understand everything, but he did know that Rey didn’t have any immediate ill intentions toward him. That was enough for him.

“Then what? If that’s enough to convince them?”

“Come find me. Oh, not here,” he added, noticing the fear in Yan’s eyes. “I don’t plan on sticking around here either. Let’s say tomorrow at the apogee, on the beach where we held the old gatherings.”

“I guarantee it’s being patrolled,” objected Yan.

“It’s not. I checked. At least it isn’t yet. By the time the Day of the Owl comes, it will be.”

Yan accepted. He would have liked to suggest another meeting point, but he wasn’t familiar with the region. Grigán would decide the best course of action later.

“One last thing. Warn them that the Grand Guild is also after us.”

“The Grand Guild?”

“Do you not know what it is, or do you not believe me?” asked Rey in surprise.

“I don’t know what it is,” admitted Yan in all seriousness.

“Great. Good thing I’ve found some help,” he said to himself, ironically.

“I’m going to share your criticisms with someone I know,” Yan retorted. “I bet he’ll have a lot to say on the subject.”

They let a moment of silence go by.

“Touchy, huh?” Rey continued, breaking the silence.

“Less touchy than you are cynical,” Yan answered, with the same frankness.

They faced each other for a few moments, with knowing smiles. Then Rey calmly took Yan by the arm and led him outside.

“Let’s get going! The sun will soon be up and we’ll still be pestering one another, sitting over this dead body. Can you imagine how that’d look? Tell me, how did you plan on making it out of here with your horse?”

A whistle rose up in the night.

Nuguel, the only man posted by the Züu at the Leem gateway, wasn’t in the mood for games. All his friends, or at least most of them, had been sleeping for a while, or were out carousing with girls, and on girls. Whereas he had to stand guard all night at a gate that no one ever used anyway.

So that little moron who was whistling like an idiot was going to feel real pain if he didn’t quit it soon.

Nuguel would have already solved the problem, if he could only figure out where the whistles were coming from.
But that high-pitched sound traveled far in the silent night, and the imbecile could be in any of the alleyways he faced.

It wasn’t just some simpleton happily passing by. Someone was really messing with his head. The whistler stopped and started, over and over, as he moved between the alleys in front of the gate. Nuguel would have given anything to work out his frustration on him. Or on one of those people they were looking for. Or on anyone, so long as he could hurt him.

“When I’ve caugh’ ya, I’ll make ya eat yer tongue,” he mumbled under his breath.

“If you can catch me, I’ll eat it myself,” someone answered loudly.

Nuguel ran toward the alley he heard the voice coming from, thrilling with fierce joy at the prospect of finding the whistler.

The only thing he saw—but from too close—was a thick beam that brutally smashed into his forehead.

Rey wondered if he should kill the now unconscious guard. But as he hadn’t, after all, raised the alarm, had fallen for the trap, let Yan pass right behind him, and, finally, collapsed without a sound, Rey decided that he had played his role perfectly and Rey would spare his life. Plus a nice bump on his head and minus a purse.

He didn’t wait around by the body lying on the ground, which he simply dragged a little further into the shadows. Then he exited the Leem gateway himself.

The young Kaulien was no longer visible, but Rey could still hear his horse’s gallop. It was best that he make a quick getaway as well, so he hastened his step.

The first thing he thought of, after putting some distance between himself and Berce, was to wash up. Even after more
than a dékade, he wasn’t accustomed to the distinctly strong odor that was part of his disguise. And it hadn’t improved over time. From time to time, the stench would overwhelm him, as if the rot he had rolled in was still fresh. He had struggled to not be sick. But the idea was a good one: no one had spoken to him in a very long time.

Well, at least until the young Kaulien arrived.

He suddenly realized that he hadn’t even thought to ask how many heirs were left, and who they were. The young man wouldn’t have given him an answer, anyway, but he still must have come off as pretty self-absorbed.

He’d worry about that later; he had done his best. If they didn’t show up, well, he would just figure it out on his own, as always.

In the meantime, he would gather his things, hidden a half league away, and above all else, wash up.

After all, he was going to meet his family.

Time was of the essence. Thanks to the beggar, Yan was able to leave the city without difficulty, but he had to exit through the east gate and he needed to go west.

So he traced a long detour to skirt around Berce without being spotted by the guards posted at the other gates, and to avoid sowing curiosity among any potential onlookers. And, of course, he got lost for a moment. On foot, he believed he could maintain his bearings anywhere, even in unfamiliar places. But on a horse...did this animal understand the simple concept of going straight? He had his doubts. Fortunately, he ended up finding the road again and he sensed he was getting close now.

Ultimately, a lot of things had happened in Berce, and he was anxious to tell all about it, especially those parts that concerned the stranger in the hills and the beggar. Of course, he no longer believed he was a genuine beggar.

Yan had also been granted the opportunity to taste the real danger they faced. He had now become a target as well. It only scared him a little; he’d expected to be implicated sooner or later. Strangely enough, he was even happy about it, because he could share it with Léti.

What worried him the most was the apparent lack of solutions to their problem. The Züu seemed more than determined and appeared to have significant resources at their disposal. He had started to realize that it would be difficult for him and his friends to resume a normal life someday, if they ever could.

So, he might as well take advantage of the present. Not much longer and he would see his dear Léti. In a few decidays, the sun would come up to greet the Day of the Promise. The moment he had been awaiting for so long. He thought it better to keep his mind on that.

He finally reached the fork in the road where he had to penetrate the thick shrubbery. He uttered a short prayer to Brosda in which he pleaded not to get lost, as he kept doing. The god must have heard him, because he quickly came upon the small, ramshackle house they had established as their camp the evening before last.

Something wasn’t right.

The place seemed deserted.

Upon inspection, he was completely certain: the place was empty. There was no remaining trace of his friends: no horses, no bags, not even warm ashes. Nor a message, or any sign at all.

Yan sat down on a moist stump and listened to the sounds of the night. He felt very tired.

Léti felt as if she had abandoned her friend. Shortly after Yan left for Berce, Grigán had ordered them to pack up camp. Infuriated, she had protested, hurling insults and menacing remarks, prepared to force them to come around to her point of view, until she finally listened to the warrior’s explanations.

Grigán simply wanted to move the camp just in case someone followed Yan on the way back, or made him talk. It still took a lot of argument and promises from Corenn and Grigán before she finally gave in.

So they left the abandoned hut and moved a bit closer to Berce, and set up a new camp at a spot chosen by Grigán.