The Crimson League (The Herezoth Trilogy) (53 page)

“Exactly. On not thinking.” Not thinking about what, she asked, and he answered, “You’re not going to leave me be, are you?” He threw the laundered shirts on the grass. Kora laid them flat and handed him another.

“Please talk to me. You’ve listened to me rant times enough. Is it your brother? The way you parted?”

Lanokas did not so much as look up from his work. “It isn’t Hune.”

She asked again what was on his mind, but the prince ignored her. Kora stayed his hand, taking his washboard; that grabbed his attention. “Rexson Lanokas….”

“I can’t get that man’s children out of my head.”

“What man?”

“The man I
killed in Hogarane.”

“The man you…?” said Kora. Then she realized what he was referring to: he and Menikas, waving their hands, slamming a flying guardsman headfirst into a bookcase.

“We’ve all killed, every one of us. I know I have. I remember the first. At least, I think he was the first. He was one of the men who ambushed us at the Landfill. A sword I conjured got him. I still think of it, all the time…. I shouldn’t have mentioned what Argint said about those kids. I wasn’t thinking, I just told the group the whole story of our meeting.”

“As we wanted you to.” Lanokas shook his head in disgust. “Everything’s out of sorts. Look at you, what your upbringing was. You should never have had to kill anyone. I swear, it makes me livid to see the state Zalski’s forced you into. What he’s forced your family into. Life shouldn’t be this way.”

“It wasn’t meant to be,” said Kora. “Not even Zalski meant it to be, for either one of us. He never dreamed you would leave that Palace alive. He never wanted you on the run, and me, well, he tried to bribe me to stand with him. As for that guardsman’s family…. Forget them. I don’t mean to be callous, I don’t, but it’s not as though you can do a thing for them, not where you are. You can’t bring those children their father back. If it makes you feel better, I’m sure Zalski’s watching out for them. They probably have magic, for one thing. Their father did, and magic or no, Zalski’s loyal to those who support him. He wouldn’t let the children of his elite guard starve.”

“That’s true,” said Lanokas. “Yes, I guess that’s true.”

Before he could say something more, the bushes on their left began to stir. Kora dropped a pair of pants in the river. Lanokas and Hayden drew close to her, Hayden aiming his crossbow. Lanokas held a hand to his sword hilt, and the bushes moved again, this time with a grunt. A creature clothed in rags, his skin crimson, tumbled from the greenery. Kora pushed Hayden’s crossbow aside.

“Rankush?” she said, her head reeling as much at his stench as at his presence near the Podra. Kora knew next to nothing about trolls, but in none of her father’s stories had the species come out in daylight.

Rankush started, surprised to hear his name. He studied Kora closely. “Sorceress,” he said. He narrowed his eyes at Lanokas. “And you, I remember you.” The prince released his grip upon his weapon. The troll ignored Hayden, which seemed to suit the teenager just fine; he stood quaking before the figure that rose before him.

“What are you doing?” said Kora. “Get back in the bushes, you might be seen. There’ll be an outcry.”

Rankush crawled back in the shrubs, allowing just the front half of his face to peek through. “I come down to warn humans. My master attack town.”

“What?” said Lanokas. “He’s attacking Fontferry?” He knelt to be level with Rankush’s face.

“The dark-skins kill twenty light-skins. Just to kill them. We don’t have numbers to fight dark-skins, but you humans, yes, you many. Pikebash say if we kill humans, then humans return attack, kill dark-skins. Dark-skins not expect war, so humans kill them.”

“When is your master’s attack?” said Lanokas.

“Night. When night come.”

“Nightfall?” Kora ran a hand down her face. “That gives us two hours.”

“I go now,” said Rankush. “Pikebash not know I missing. In mountain trolls disappear, you remember? They disappear like sorcerers. But we left mountain in morning.”

Lanokas said, “Only in the mountains? Trolls’ magic comes from the mountains themselves?”

“Trolls and mountains linked,” Rankush explained. “You warn humans? You warn them?”

“We’ll warn them,” said Lanokas.

“How many?” asked Hayden. “How many trolls?”

“I not count them. We separate when we cross river, not before, Pikebash say. We start at boats because they easy to find.” The bushes shook as the troll’s head withdrew into the branches. Hayden fell to the ground, but Lanokas jerked him up.

Kora’s voice squeaked. “Lanokas, the boats must mean the ferry. Valkin and Teena….”

“They’re the first ones the trolls will come across. I’ll warn them. Hayden, you need to call the militia.” Hayden stared at him, blankly, and the prince explained, “I can’t call them to arms. Neither can Kora. If there’s an elite in town, he’d be trained to recognize us. Go to the bell tower and sound the alarm. Literally. Kora….”

“I’ll get everyone at Wheatfield. But you do realize Laskenay and I will be useless? Magic won’t affect Pikebash.”

“You can heal the wounded if nothing else.” Lanokas looked to his left. “Hayden, go!” Hayden jumped and tore off in the direction of the footbridge.

“Wait,” said Kora. The teen stumbled to a stop. “Let me take you back to the barn. You’ll be closer from there, and the bridge has guards.”

Hayden set his jaw. Lanokas said, “Meet me at Teena’s, both of you, in an hour. No later than an hour.” Kora affirmed the timetable and brought Hayden to the field between Fontferry and her mother’s property. “I can’t take you closer,” she said. “You’re on your own from here.”

Hayden was as pale as Kora had ever seen him, but he did not hesitate. He tore toward the town looking like a newly risen ghost who had sworn before death to make an enemy’s life a living hell, an enemy who waited in the village. Kora transported closer to the barn.

Neslan was helping Bennie study one of the Palace maps. “What floor is this?” he asked. She stammered, unsure what to say. “You need to recognize these things. Without thinking. What if Zalski transports you to one of these rooms? How will you know which way to escape?”

“Like I’d end up escaping if….”

“What floor, Bennie?”

“The fifth,” she said. “The fifth floor.”

“Right.” Both Leaguesmen noticed Kora, and immediately rose. “What’s happened?” asked Neslan.

“Where’s Laskenay?” Kora responded.

“She went to Zacry. Well, to the people who are watching him, to give further instructions. What’s happened, Kora?”

“Do you remember a story Lanokas told? Or maybe Kansten? About trolls?”

“Trolls?” said Bendelof. Her fingers had trouble folding the map. Kora explained the emergency, though for Laskenay’s sake she did not reveal who Teena’s nephew was, or the fact that the Librette was stowed on Teena’s property.

“We have to fight. This woman is my mother’s friend. She’s lodging innocent people.”

Bennie shook her head, as though saying she would not go. “I can’t stand up against a troll. Neslan could break me in two if he wanted, a troll would….”

Kora stopped listening. Bennie’s excuses were too painful, too removed from the grit she once had shown. They were justified, but that only made them sting the worse. More to hush her friend than to comfort her, Kora said, “Someone has to watch Teena’s nephew. To take him from danger. I know Teena, and she won’t leave her inn to be sacked by marauding beasts. She just won’t, which means….”

“Good,” said Bennie. “Good, I still can help. I’ll watch the child. I don’t mean to back out, I just, I honestly would be no use fighting.”

DING.

Bennie jumped. “Hayden,” said Kora. He was ringing the bells in the tower, or else someone was ringing them for him. DING. DING  DINGDINGDING.

Neslan shivered. “That noise is unsettling somehow,” he said.
             

The façade of Teena’s inn had never impressed Kora; unremarkable was the word for it, especially with sheets of rain cascading down the eaves, which had been the case on Kora’s first arrival. To gaze a second time at the building, what struck the sorceress was its inexplicable air of solace, of peace, an air she had chalked up the previous visit, mistakenly, to a yearning to escape the weather. Now as then, the windows glowed with a cheery candlelight. No external signs hinted that anything was amiss.

“This
is the place?” breathed Bendelof. Kora said it was. “This is where they’ll attack? It just doesn’t seem possible. It’s so quiet….”

Bennie should have waited to step inside before she spoke. Two school-aged boys, the sons of a guest, were arguing about a card game. A group of men were drinking, and ranting about taxes, in the corner. Those speaking had Yangerton accents; one of them pounded their table. “It’s criminal. Criminal! He wants a rebellion, I swear to you, he’s provoking one. That’s what he’s doing, provoking one. So he can put it down.”

“Bullshit,” said another. “What’s he left us to revolt with? The wood of our empty shelves?”

“This way,” whispered Kora. She had a sneaking suspicion she might find Teena in the kitchen, and so she did. The innkeeper, something about her as sprite-like as always, was removing pots from above the fire; Lanokas was helping. Both their backs were to the door.

“There are children here,” said Teena.

Lanokas asked, “Where can we hide them? Should we move them to the village proper?”

“There isn’t time. We could lock them in the basement.”

“I can move them,” said Kora. Teena dropped a pot of stew. The vessel hit the floor with a clang, rolled beneath a table. “I’m so sorry! Teena, I’m sorry. I always startle you somehow.” Kora vanished the spill and bent down to retrieve the pot.

“It doesn’t matter,” said the innkeeper. She approached Ilana’s daughter. “You can move the children?”

“To Wheatfield. It’s where we’ve been staying. We’ve made a home of sorts of the barn. Teena, this is Bennie. One of us. She’ll watch the kids.”

Lanokas asked, “Is Wheatfield really the best option? If Laskenay comes back….”

“It’s the only option. Well, maybe not the only, but I can’t think of any others, and there’s no time to come up with something better.”

“She’s right,” said Teena, and pressed Bennie’s hand between her own, as though to thank her. “I’ll tell my guests what we’re facing.”

When she flitted to the door Neslan said, “We should explain together. All of us.”

Teena caught Kora’s eye. “Is it safe for me to tell your name?”

“There’s no way around it. No parent will send their child off with a woman with no identity. And I’ll have to use magic to transport the kids away.”

Teena flew from the kitchen, her feet barely sweeping the floor, they moved so quickly. She gathered her guests in the parlor, all eleven of them. Besides the school-aged boys and their father—a man with graying hair, two or three day’s worth of stubble on his face, and a hardness to his eyes—there were the four men enjoying drinks and a group of two elderly couples. All of them listened in various states of discomfort as Lanokas cut across Teena to explain why the Crimson League had come to this establishment. No one had trouble guessing which woman was Kora Porteg.

One of the drinking men, with a throaty voice Kora had not yet heard and a straw hat that hid his face, asked, “Is that what the bell was about? We’ll have us some help?” He was a local, a farmer, the only local of his party by the look of things.

Lanokas said, “More men should be coming to fight with us. How many, I don’t know. The priority right now is getting those who can’t defend themselves away from here.”

The man with the stubble studied Kora, dislike etched on his face. His children looked at her as well, stunned, wondering if she really were a sorceress. “I’ll get my boys out of here myself.” He grabbed his sons by the arm and started to drag them forward, but the local who had asked about the bells jumped in front of him.

“And if you walk straight into the trolls? We don’t know where they are.”

“We don’t know they exist,” said the father.

“True enough. But I reckon they probably do. One thing’s for sure, those four young people there are members of the Crimson League. I don’t see why they’d jeopardize themselves if there wasn’t some real danger out there,” he pointed at the door, “making its way here. If you want to be a coward and a fool and get your own self killed, well, that’s your business, brother. But you’re not getting those boys killed along with you. That there woman offered to move them to safety, and you with them, I’m sure, assuming you’re not man enough to defend the home of the woman I know’s cooked you a fair number of meals, all fifty times better than anything you could throw together.”

The father swung at the farmer’s jaw, but the farmer grabbed his fist before it made contact. “I don’t like you, Gand, and I know you don’t like me, but Teena needs the both of us. We both appreciate her, so what do you say you don’t waste our time? Let that Porteg woman take the boys away. Go with them, or stay here. I really don’t care what you do, but don’t waste my time.”

Gand must be a local too. He grunted with such ferocity Kora feared he would throw another punch; she nearly moved forward to prevent him, but he just shoved the farmer’s hand away. His children pulled back, looking confused. Kora gulped out of instinct as their father swung to face her.