The Assassin's Edge (Einarinn 5) (61 page)

“There she is,” said Shiv with fervent relief.

I squinted at the image confined in the silver platter. “Where?”

“They’ve taken the Suthyfer landing,” exclaimed Ryshad.

“They have?” Sorgrad abandoned his thoughtful circuit of the mound to join us.

“We’re totally after the fair.” ’Gren was seriously displeased. ”No one to fight and no chance of any share in the loot.”

Shiv was still intent on his spell. “What do you suppose happened here?” The scrying showed us the burnt-out remnants of the pirates’ stockade, a group of mercenaries getting filthy tearing it down.

“Looks like you’re not the only ones who got carried away with your fire starting.” I smiled at Sorgrad who was studying the scene with interest.

“How did Halice know they could attack and be safe from the enchanters?” Shiv wondered aloud.

“Good question.” But Ryshad was well enough satisfied. “Still, the fight’s done and we won.”

“It can’t have been an easy fight, even without the Elietimm,” I pointed out. “If ’Sar and the others were using all their wits and wizardry, they’re probably still sleeping.”

There was no doubt our friends were masters of the landing. Like those miniature ships that sailors too old to be hired like to sell, we saw the
Dulse
and the
Fire Minnow
riding blithely at safe anchor. Solitary watchmen paced their decks with none of the fearful urgency of men expecting attack. Halice’s troops were reclaiming Kellarin’s cargoes from the ramshackle remnants of the pirates’ encampments, sentries circling with the same desultory stroll.

“Rosarn, Vaspret, Minare.” I ticked off faces I recognised on my fingers before chewing my lip as Shiv’s roving spell swept across callously piled bodies. Those had to be pirates. Our dead would be treated with far more respect lest Ostrin turn up in one of his legendary disguises to ask the reason why.

“No mages, nor Guinalle,” observed Ryshad.

“They’ll be sitting down to a rich breakfast aboard ship,” said ’Gren scornfully. “Noble born pay mercenaries to sit and eat their gruel on the cold ground.”

“Shiv, can you see inside the cabins?”

Not without—” The wizard froze and I heard a most unwelcome sound carried by the questing breeze.

“Goat bells.”

“Goat pizzles,” growled ’Gren. “I’d have bet yesterday scared them off for a season and a half.” He drew his long knife.

“Let’s leave them to it,” I pleaded. “We’ve seen Suthyfer’s secure. Let’s not risk our necks in some pointless scrap with the locals.”

“This is supposed to be the work of vengeful Eldritch Kin.” Ryshad waved a hand around the ruined circle. “Some gutted goatherd will set everyone looking for a man with a blade instead.” He ran a hand through wind-tousled curls. “Shiv, can you get us back to Suthyfer with Sorgrad’s help?”

Shiv shook his head. “Only one at a time. That would take the better part of two days and I’d need to sleep safe in between times.”

“We’re not splitting up,” ’Gren warned. “Not us and not her.”

“We need to lie up until we can get a nexus worked to lift us out of here together,” said Sorgrad with authority.

“The safest place will be Olret’s fiefdom,” Ryshad pointed out.

“I could take us all that far with one spell,” said Shiv confidently.

“About Olret.” I’d pushed him and his secrets to the back of my mind while Ilkehan dominated the foreground. “Are you suggesting we go back to his keep?” I sat on a convenient stump of rock.

“His laundresses could spare us some soap.” Sorgrad scratched at the soot-smudged and smeary colour still greasy on his forearm. “I’ll never hear the last of it if Halice sees me painted up like a masquerader.”

“Some of those pretty girls might be interested in finding out just how far the blue goes.” ’Gren’s lascivious chuckle ruined his air of spurious innocence.

Ryshad looked closely at me. “What about Olret?”

’Gren was still pursuing his own line of thought. “He should be a sound bet for a good breakfast.”

“You recall those locked gates on his stairs?” I said casually. That won me everyone’s attention.

“Yes,” said Shiv slowly.

This wasn’t the time for dancing round the truth. “Olret keeps a handful of women locked in cages up there, penned like animals in their own filth. They claim to be from Shernasekke, taken captive by Olret when he joined Ilkehan in attacking their house.”

“You didn’t think to mention this before?” Shiv was incredulous.

“You didn’t believe them?” Ryshad wasn’t wasting time with recriminations but the stern glint in his eye warned me to explain myself when we were alone together.

“I didn’t know what to believe. They have powerful Artifice but Olret somehow limits their powers to that one room. They wanted me to get word to their kin in Evadasekke.” I racked my memory. “And Froilasekke and somewhere else.”

“Why’s Olret holding them?” Sorgrad demanded as Shiv fumbled for his map.

“To try and get a blood claim on the Shernasekke lands when one of the girls decides his bed is a better place than a prison.” I scowled at ’Gren who looked ready to make some inappropriate quip. “And it seems they keep their lore very close, these Elietimm adepts. The Shernasekke women reckoned they could work Artifice that Olret couldn’t master. Those secrets were something else he wanted.”

Sorgrad shrugged. “That sounds fair enough, if you’re Olret.”

“Or they could have been lying,” Ryshad said reluctantly. “Olret could have perfectly good reason to keep them locked up. I hate to sound like Mistal but you’ve only their word to go on.”

’Gren was looking confused. “Ryshad’s brother,” I reminded him. “The advocate before the law courts.”

Shiv looked up from his map. “I can’t find Evadesekke but I think this may be Froilasekke.” He held up the parchment and pointed.

“That’s clear over the other side of the islands,” I said without enthusiasm.

“I’d go further than that for the right kind of gratitude from a rescued maiden.” ’Gren’s mood was brightening again.

Ryshad shot him an unreadable glance before returning to me. “You didn’t think we should involve ourselves before. Why tell us now?”

“Those goats are getting nearer,” warned Sorgrad.

“Olret was happy to help us as long as we were going to kill Ilkehan.” I met Ryshad’s gaze with a challenge of my own. “I’m not sure how he’ll react to us coming back, if he’s got secrets of his own to protect.”

“He doesn’t know we know about the women.” Ryshad looked thoughtful.

“I say we steer clear of Olret and let him do as he pleases.” Sorgrad scowled at ’Gren who was predictably bright eyed at the prospect of some new excuse for a fight. “Rettasekke or Shernasekke, they’re nothing to us. We owed Ilkehan a full measure of vengeance and killing him served everyone’s purpose. Now that’s done, let’s go home and reap the rewards.”

“I agree.” I raised my hand to stay Sorgrad’s approval. “But I don’t want to find myself coming back here next summer, because Olret’s set himself up in Ilkehan’s place.”

“So what do you propose to do?” Sorgrad challenged me and Ryshad both. “Kill Olret as well?”

“I don’t know what to do.” I’d had enough of killing, even of those we knew without doubt to be guilty but I didn’t bother telling Sorgrad since he wouldn’t consider it relevant.

Ryshad sucked his teeth. “Olret showed us a fair enough face but as our host he would do, of course.”

“And if Olret keeps these women locked up, they’re bound to blacken his name.” I spread my hands. “Now do you see why I didn’t muddy the waters stirring all this up?”

“We are going back then?” ’Gren glanced from me to Sorgrad, long knife ready in his hand.

“Not to the keep, not unless we have to.” Ryshad looked to us each for agreement and then at Shiv. “Can you take us to some quiet spot inside Olret’s boundaries until we can raise Usara and leave this all behind?”

The mage nodded. “There’s a place I saw as we rowed up the coast.”

“What about breakfast?” ’Gren complained.

“What about these women and their claims?” Shiv was looking dour.

“Maybe Guinalle can read the truth of it all in Olret’s dreams or some such,” I suggested.

“Shiv, get us out of here, please.” Ryshad cocked his head at goat bells again. “Whatever Olret may be, his people should be friendly to us and, Dast knows, no one hereabouts will be.”

“Depends what they reckoned to Ilkehan,” countered ’Gren.

His irrepressible voice faded as Shiv wrapped his spell around us. A breeze spiralled ever closer, ever faster, cool against my skin with the soft moisture of wind from the southern sea. The waterfall and grey rocks vanished as the breeze thickened to azure brilliance on the very edge of sight. Then the dizzying spiral seemed to get inside my head and the pleasant cool turned to a chill and wearisome damp making my very bones ache. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard but the sensation of my feet leaving the ground jolted me just that bit too hard. As solid ground lurched beneath my feet once more, I felt my gorge rising and hastily darted to one side.

“Good thing we haven’t had breakfast,” said ’Gren cheerily. “You’d just have wasted it.”

When I’d finished retching, I glowered at him. Ryshad handed me his water bottle and I rinsed my mouth and spat, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. “Where are we?”

“Inland and up the coast a way from Olret’s settlement.” Shiv had brought us to the edge of some looming barrens, grey rock ripping through the threadbare green on the steep hillsides. We were hidden from the keep by a substantial buttress of rock thrust forward from one of the mountains guarding the interior. It was striped with unusually pale scree and on one face some upheaval had snapped the smooth line of the rock to leave a splintered cliff above a litter of shattered stone.

Sorgrad was peering out towards a long slew of morning mist cloaking the sea. “How do you suppose that fight for the fort’s gone?”

’Gren had other concerns. “Who do you suppose lives there?” He pointed at a long low house surrounded by a cluster of shabby outbuildings, goatskins nailed up for drying making pale patches on the gable ends. The wind shifted and brought us a whiff of mingled earthy smoke and cooking smells.

“Do you think we could ask for some food?” I looked at Ryshad.

“They can only say no.” He looked at one of the lesser buildings where a puff of steam escaped a window to be swept away by the gusting breezes. “I’d pay solid coin for the chance of a bath and a shave.”

Sorgrad was already moving towards the isolated homestead. “We’ll get ourselves clean and fed and then we’ll try bespeaking ’Sar again.”

“Wait a moment,” Shiv said, irritated. “Do you want whoever’s in there scared out of their wits?”

The air shimmered around us and magic leached much of the colour from our skin and hair. We were still an unnatural hue but, with Halcarion’s blessing, a stranger’s first thought should be we were just filthy and exhausted rather than dread messengers from the Eldritch Kin.

’Gren picked up the pace as we crossed the wind-scoured turf. People busy about the scatter of buildings paused to stare at us. “You stay here,” Sorgrad commanded as we reached a low wall of close-fitted stone. He and ’Gren crossed another stretch of grass that yielded to a raggedly cobbled yard in front of the long central house. A couple of men leaned on long narrow spades crusted with dark earth. Both house and the random outbuildings looked built from whatever rock had tumbled down the mountainside, sides bulging with irregular-shaped stones. Few windows pierced the thick walls and those couldn’t have admitted much light through their grimy horn panes.

“This doesn’t look very promising,” I murmured to Ryshad while trying to look innocuous under the suspicious gaze of the Elietimm men.

“Let’s see what Mountain charm can do for us,” he said with a certain sarcasm.

One of the men called into the doorway open on to the blackness inside the dwelling. A thickset woman with a dull orange scarf wound tight around her head appeared fast enough to suggest she’d been keeping a look-out through some peephole. Sorgrad stepped forward with a courteous bow and a sweeping gesture in the general direction of Olret’s keep. The woman stepped out of the doorway and waved a hand at one of the outhouses.

“Isn’t that where the steam came from?” Shiv looked hopeful.

’Gren turned to wave us forward. I was in a mood to take a gamble as well. “I don’t know about you two but I’m more than ready for a bath.”

The sturdy woman waited with Sorgrad and ’Gren while her sons or whoever they were took themselves off to their daily duties. She stood, feet solid on the irregular cobbles, arms folded across an ample bosom. Her face was creased with age and disillusion, mouth sunken on to almost toothless gums. She was certainly the oldest Elietimm I’d seen thus far and her speech was sufficiently fast and slurred that I understood none of it.

“We can wash in the laundry house,” Sorgrad told us. ’Gren was already unlatching the door. “She’ll send some food out later.”

“Please thank her for us.” I smiled to convey my gratitude but all I got in return was a dour grunt before our grudging hostess stomped off. “What did you tell her?” I asked in a low tone as Sorgrad ushered me towards the wash house, a low building with an irregular roof ridge and more than one loose slate.

“I said we were travellers who had visited Olret with a view to trading and had been seeing what his lands had to offer in return for our goods.” He was looking thoughtful. “I said we wanted to make ourselves presentable before returning to his keep.”

“It was Olret’s name made the difference,” ’Gren piped up. ”Until then, I thought she’d be setting the dogs on us.”

“I don’t suppose they get many visitors hereabouts.” Ryshad unbuttoned his jerkin as we crossed the wash house’s threshold. He unlaced his shirt and pulled it over his head, grimacing at both the smell and the ingrained stains of paint and dirt. I wasn’t any too taken with him smelling like a hard-ridden horse either but I doubted I smelled of roses or anything close.

“It won’t have time to dry, even if you wash it,” I advised reluctantly as I shed my own foetid clothes.