Storms of Destiny (49 page)

“But will King Agivir believe Castio?” Thia inquired softly. “He may think it’s a trick.”

Eregard took a deep breath.
Goddess, give me strength!

“Agivir will listen if
I
tell him,” he said.

Everyone turned to look at him.

Talis sighed. “This is no time for your silly games, Eregard. I’ll speak to Castio first, but then I’m coming back here and it’s off to Market Day for us. I’m sorry, but I need the money.”

Jezzil made a small, quickly smothered sound of distress, but said nothing. Thia turned to Talis. “What is he talking about?”

Talis grimaced, then her fingers brushed her temple and made a quick circle. “He’s talking nonsense. Sometimes he claims to be a Prince of Pela, poor thing. That’s why he picked that name. Maybe he was hit on the head.”

Eregard took a deep breath. “Goddess be my witness! I
am
Prince Eregard!”

Thia’s face was a pale oval in the dimness. She reached over and took Eregard’s hand, holding it tightly. “He’s telling the truth,” she said.

“Give me strength,” Talis muttered. “Thia, I know you’re fond of him. So am I. But I can’t keep him. My father has ordered me to return home, but I’ve decided I’m not going back. I’m going to stay on with Castio full-time. So I’m going to have to leave Q’Kal, and I need money to do that. I have to sell Eregard today.”

Thia turned to the other woman. “Talis, he
is
Prince Eregard. He is telling the truth.”

Talis made an exasperated sound and rose to her feet.

“I’m off to find Castio,” she said. “Eregard, come with me.”

Eregard found himself on his feet. He’d learned obedience in a hard school.

But Jezzil had risen, too. “Talis, stop,” he said. “If Thia

says he’s telling the truth, he is telling the truth. She can always tell. Master Khith says her talent is called Truthsense.”

“Jezzil! Don’t be ridiculous! He’s a
slave
.”

“Yes, he is,” Thia said. “But he’s also who he claims to be.

I can tell when people lie. He’s telling the truth.”

Talis hesitated, then shook her head. “Have you all gone mad? Truthsense? What’s that?”

“I asked Master Khith about it,” Jezzil said. “It told me that some people have it. And Thia is one of them. See for yourself. Test her.”

Thia walked out of the hay stall and stood in the aisle of the barn. She beckoned to Talis. “Come over here, where we can speak alone. You tell me things, things so private that only you would know. I will tell you if they are the truth or not.”

Talis hesitated, then reluctantly joined the former priestess at the other end of the stable. In the dark stillness, Eregard could see them only as black shapes against the lighter boards of the barn. He made out the soft murmur of the women’s voices, but no words. He glanced over at Jezzil.

“You … you believe me?”

Jezzil nodded. “If Thia says you are telling the truth, you are. I’ve never known her to be mistaken. How did a Prince of Pela come to be a slave in Kata?”

“It’s a long story,” Eregard muttered, straining his ears, trying to hear what Talis and Thia were saying. “I’ll tell you later, after I get this bedamned collar off.” He touched the metal. “I can’t wait.”

He stiffened as he heard a low, inarticulate cry from Talis, then saw the dark forms of both women merge, and realized they were hugging each other fiercely. After a few minutes they turned and came back into the lamplight. Talis was wiping tears from her cheeks.

She stopped, and stood staring at Eregard. “I believe you,”

she said harshly. “But I will never bend knee to one of Agivir’s issue.”

Eregard nodded. “I understand. If you help me get back to Pela, I’m going to talk to my father about the colonists’

problems, believe me. He can’t let Salesin take over the way he has been. My brother is … well, he’s not fit to rule. He’s cruel, and he enjoys being that way.”

Talis nodded. She looked as if someone had punched her in the stomach, shocked and shaky, but she was trying to compose herself. Eregard turned to Thia, taking both her hands in his. “My lady Thia,” he said, then bent down to kiss her hands. “Thank you. Thank you.”

She gently pulled her hands away, looking self-conscious but pleased. “What should I call you, Your Highness?”

“Just Eregard,” he replied. Seeing a quick expression flit across Jezzil’s face, he found himself stepping back.
What’s
his problem?

“The question is,” Talis said, “how do we convince Castio of who you are? Are there any pictures of Prince Eregard?”

“In the Governor’s palace, I suppose,” Eregard said. “But my profile is on the twenty liera piece.”

Jezzil stuck his hand into his pocket and drew out some coins. He studied one. “You only have one and a half chins these days,” he said dryly. “But I think we can manage to convince Castio.”

Rufen Castio looked down at the coin in his hand, then back up at Eregard. “Hard to tell because of the beard. There’s a slight resemblance, I grant you. Slight, but …” He shook his head, and a small breath of laughter escaped. “It can’t be.

The Goddess wouldn’t be that good to us.”

Eregard nodded. “It’s true. I told you how it happened.”

“It’s common knowledge that Prince Eregard was lost at sea,” Castio muttered, closing his fingers on the coin. He straightened abruptly, squaring his shoulders, then demanded, “What is the name of the King’s general in the South?”

“When I left,” Eregard said, “that position was held by General Deggazo. He was nearing retirement, though.”

Castio looked over at Talis, who spread her hands in a “what can you do?” gesture. “And the King’s geographer, who is also the royal mapmaker?”

“Petruce q’Avagne.”

Castio shrugged. “The answers to these questions are matters of public record.”

Eregard smiled wryly and displayed his callused and scarred hands. “For your average fieldhand?”

Castio ignored the attempted witticism. “The only way to be sure would be to haul you over to the Governor’s palace and give him a look at you.”

“First you’d have to let me shave, and even then it’s possible he might not recognize me,” Eregard replied dryly. “I’ve changed. Hard work can do that to a man.” He gave Talis a half-shamed glance. “Even when I was planning to run away, I realized that it would be difficult for people I knew only casually to recognize me.”

Jezzil, who had been standing quietly, arms crossed, in the corner of the room, remarked, “Be grateful, Eregard.

Castio is right about this mission being dangerous. It’s better you remain unrecognized, and that collar is an excellent disguise.”

Eregard turned to the Chonao, his hand going up to his iron collar. “Disguise? I’m not going to travel to Pela in
disguise
. What gave you that idea?”

“It’s the sensible thing to do,” Castio said. “The Redai would like nothing better than to wind up with Agivir’s son to use as a bargaining token.”

Eregard was shaking his head. “Oh, no. This double bedamned collar is coming
off
, right now, as soon as you can get me to a blacksmith shop. I’m not wearing it one minute longer than I have to!”

“It’s the perfect disguise,” Jezzil pointed out. “No one looks at a slave.”

“I want it
off
,” Eregard said. “I want it
gone.
”

“Before we dock at Minoma, I swear to you I’ll file it off myself,” Jezzil said. “Until then, let’s leave it.”

Eregard looked from Jezzil to Castio, then on to Talis.

Each of them nodded agreement with Jezzil’s reasoning.

The Prince glared at them, then turned and headed for the door. “I’ll wait for you outside, Jezzil,” he snarled, opening it. He stepped outside and slammed it behind him.

“He’s furious,” Talis said.

Jezzil nodded. “I don’t blame him. But I think he knows we’re right to leave the collar on until we’re out of danger.”

“So, what’s your decision, Rufen?” Talis asked. “I believe

Eregard’s story. I believe Thia. She’s a Truthsenser. Try her yourself. And if he really
is
the missing Prince, and we return him to Pela, this could be a boon to our cause, couldn’t it?”

“Perhaps,” Castio muttered, beginning to pace back and forth. “If we could gain Agivir’s ear, tell him what his eldest is doing to the colony …”

“He said his father may not have enough support left in the military to face down Salesin,” Jezzil said. “Or enough spirit.”

Castio had stopped pacing. “All right, he’s the missing Prince. I believe you.” He looked over at Talis. “I can give you the money for your passage, and a document proclaim-ing you my emissary. But if
he
”—he jerked his chin at the door Eregard had used—“is a fake, you’ll likely wind up on a gallows if you manage to reach Pela.”

“We have to do something, or we’ll find ourselves not free, but a Chonao colony,” Talis pointed out. “Rufen, I want to take Jezzil, too. The Prince should have a bodyguard, and I’ll have to sleep sometime.”

Castio sighed, but nodded. “Very well. But I wish you’d let me send Bona and Sethe with the Prince. You’ve become one of my best advisers, Talis. I don’t want to lose you.”

Talis glanced at Eregard. “I believe in this mission, Rufen.

And besides …” She smiled wryly. “I have to be the one to go. Remember, I
own
this fieldhand.”

“I’m going with you,” Thia said, her voice quiet, composed, but as steely as any sword.

“Thia, don’t think we don’t want you to come!” Talis cried. “But this journey is apt to be perilous. The Redai’s forces are massing.”

The former priestess gave her friend a long, level look.

“You’ve seen Boq’urak. And I’m supposed to be worried about an
army
?” She turned her gaze on Jezzil, who was lounging in the doorway. “I’ll pay my own passage. Dr.

Khith will loan me the payment, I’m sure of it.”

“What will I do?” The thin, inhuman voice came from the other entrance to the parlor. Thia, Eregard, Jezzil, and Talis all turned to find the Hthras physician, fur still ruffled from sleep, clutching a bedgown around itself against the early morning chill. “What’s happened?”

“We have to leave, Doctor,” Jezzil said. “We’ll be taking the first ship we can board that’s bound for Pela.”

“Last night we discovered that Kerezau has offered a sham alliance to Castio,” Talis added. “He plans to betray Kata and conquer the colony. And we also discovered …”

She shrugged, and smiled wryly. “… that our friend here,”

she waved at Eregard, “is actually the missing Prince of Pela. We need to take him back to his father, so Kata and Pela can fight together against the invaders.”

Khith blinked its enormous eyes, obviously taken aback.

Thia watched the Hthras, wondering how much of the human political situation the little physician understood. “I see,” it muttered after a moment. “You certainly had a busy night, didn’t you?”

Jezzil chuckled, and Talis smiled wearily. Only Eregard remained sober-faced. Thia watched the Prince, concerned.

He’s suffered so much,
she thought.
He was raised to luxury,
indolence, and self-indulgence. How has he changed? How
does he really feel about us? For months Talis has treated
him like a thing, a mere possession. What will happen when
he’s back with his royal kin?

“Please, Doctor,” she said aloud, “can you lend me the fare for the passage? I can’t stay here, not knowing whether they …” She trailed off, then finished, “I have to go.

They’re my friends.”

Eregard gave her a quick, appreciative glance, then reached over and brushed his fingertips against her forearm.

Khith was staring at them, each in turn, ending with Jezzil. “And you are all
my
friends,” it said. “Jezzil, you are my student, my apprentice. Your training has barely begun.

It cannot end yet.”

Jezzil nodded. “I understand, Doctor. I’ve learned just enough to realize how important the training is. But I’ll

come back, I swear it.” He hesitated. “If there is war, I may not be able to travel, but as soon as—”

Khith waved its narrow hand impatiently. “No. Your training is too important. Thia and I will accompany you.” It looked over at Eregard and Talis. “With your permission.”

“But, Doctor, this is going to be a difficult voyage,” Talis protested. “Uncomfortable, possibly dangerous. There are Chonao troops moving on Pela and Kata even as we speak. If something went wrong, we might not be able to protect you.”

The Hthras gazed up at her, its huge eyes intent. “I do not need your protection,” it declared. “I may not have your abilities with weapons one can see and touch, but I am hardly helpless. I have the ability to protect myself. And, possibly, all of you as well.”

The four humans glanced at each other, then Talis shrugged. “All right,” she said. “The five of us will go.”

“Six,” Jezzil corrected. “Don’t forget Falar. Where I go, she goes.”

Talis clung to the railing of the ship, heaving. Her stomach was long empty, yet still she retched. Finally, gagging, she managed to bring up bile that tasted so dreadful it made her heave all over again. She spat, then spat again. Her legs trembled as she clung to the polished wood, wiping her mouth on her sleeve, eyes closed.
Fine warrior you proved to
be,
she thought disgustedly.
Puking your guts up the moment
we clear the Q’Kal harbor.