The Crow King's Wife (40 page)

“I’m bloody well sick of this damn thing.” A
man’s voice from the far end of the alley froze her thoughts and
she turned back just in time to watch two figures enter their
alley.

Wordlessly she pressed herself flat against
the alley wall in a mirror of Dray’s own movement. The man that had
spoken was fully in the alley now and to her dismay he wore the
full armor of a high ranking Rivasan guard. A second man followed
him dressed in dark clothes and a hooded cloak. She could barely
make out the lower part of his jaw, but what she could see was
unshaven and by the set of his lips he was highly amused.

“I feel filthy just wearing it!” The guard
snapped as he unbuckled the chin strap of his full helmet and
wrenched it from his head. His hair was tousled and a deep red
color that was never found in Rivasans. His bronzed skin was beaded
with sweat and his expression was borderline furious. With a curse
he tossed the helmet to the side of the alley and shook his head
with irritation. It wasn’t until he turned to gaze down the alley
in the direction Shade and Grim had gone that she recognized him.
Her breath caught in her throat as his bright green eyes traced
over the street beyond her.
Havoc Firym
. She had no idea
what he was doing here, and she didn’t know him aside from
glimpsing him near Jala, but his presence here could only be
considered a blessing. Everyone knew how much the Firym despised
the Rivasans.

“Does it feel strange to you to be doing
something like this without Victory here chiding us every step of
the way about how stupid we are?” The second man’s voice was low
and laced with amusement, but it wasn’t a voice she recognized. He
raised a gloved hand as he spoke and pushed the hood back revealing
lanky black hair that looked as though it hadn’t been brushed in
weeks. His eyes were deep set and a long silvered scar traced down
the left side of his face. Even without the scar she wouldn’t have
considered him handsome. There was too much about him that screamed
guttertrash. Even his clothes spoke of someone that would slit your
throat for a bent copper.

“Victory made his choice.” Havoc said
irritably as he unfastened the uppermost clasp of his leather
brigandine. “I hate this armor. I hate this creeping about.” He
snarled as the sound of a woman’s scream pierced the air from the
direction Grim had gone.

The man in black let out a long deep sigh as
if Havoc’s words were a complaint that was well worn through and
moved gracefully past the Firym as he continued to strip out of the
obviously stolen armor. “By the sounds of it the puppy has already
started and we still haven’t located Zoelyn. Do you think we should
continue on to the children without her? There is a chance we will
encounter her along the way.”

“Puppy didn’t plan on us helping at all in
this so I sincerely doubt he mentioned us to Zoey. As far as he was
concerned all we were doing was pretending to be smugglers bringing
in Firym silks to lure Kalleria out of the fortress.” Havoc sighed
in disgust and threw the heavy leather armor to the street by the
helmet. He wore silk padding under the Rivasan leathers and by the
looks of it he planned to be wearing nothing but the padding in a
few more minutes.

“
Are they calling Caleb puppy as a
nickname
?” Dray’s words drifted through her mind. He hadn’t
risked speaking the words aloud, not with the dangerous looking man
standing so close to them.

Zoelyn shrugged in response never taking her
eyes off the dark clad man. He had paused near the alley mouth and
was so close she could have extended a finger and brushed his arm.
Her eyes studied him closely from the tips of his soft leather
boots to the edge of the scar on his face. It looked like an old
knife wound and it wasn’t until she had traced it down to the very
bottom that she realized it wasn’t a scar at all. The very bottom
corner of the scar was beginning to peal from his sweat. It was
make-up such as the stage actors use, and very cleverly done. Her
eyes moved over him again taking in the faint smudge around his
scraggly jaw line and then settling at last on his blue eyes. Her
own eyes widened as the details of his costume faded and she
studied his build and the bone structure of his face.

“Lord Dark, your scar is pealing and your
beard appears to be losing its color from your sweat.” Zoelyn
whispered.

Zachary Dark stiffened at the sound of her
voice, but Havoc’s reaction was almost comical. The Firym cursed
and stumbled on the leather pants still trailing from one leg.
Barefoot Havoc wheeled to face the direction of her voice
half-dressed with a dagger in one hand.

With a faint smile Zachary reached up and
pulled the fake scar from his face and tucked it neatly into his
pocket as Zoelyn released Dray’s hand allowing the Blight’s
camouflage to fade from her.

“I didn’t recognize you at all. It’s a very
good disguise Lord Dark.” Zoelyn murmured her gaze trailing back to
Havoc. Her eyes roved over his silk padding and his discarded
armor. It was tempting to ask where he had pulled the dagger from
in such a hurry, but she decided it was something she likely didn’t
want to know.

“Havoc has some odd friends. One of which
specializes in costumes for theatre. I myself thought this ensemble
was a bit over the top, but it seems to have served its purpose.
The Guards at the gate believed I was a genuine smuggler.” He fell
silent at the sound of hoof beats and shouting from down the road
and glanced toward Havoc. “Perhaps you should dress quickly. I
believe we need to be on our way very soon if we are going to
rescue the children and free the slaves.”

“Free the slaves?” Zoelyn repeated in a
hopeful voice. Her gaze flicked between the two men and it was
Havoc that nodded in response though his attention was entirely
focused on freeing his leg from the tangled leather trousers.

“Puppy’s request was that I manage to bring
in something pretty to lure Kellaria out of her keep. With the war
going every city in every country has faced shortages and I doubt
Rivasa has seen a decent bolt of material in months let alone a
piss drenched hole like Prendington. He said he was going to bring
the city to ruin. I brought Zach into this because I am quite
obviously Firym and very well known, but no one would ever expect
the honorable Plate mail clad Zachary Dark to pose as a smuggler.
After we discussed it a bit we both decided Prendington can burn,
but the slaves can’t. So here we are and we are short on time.”
Havoc explained in a rushed voice as he shook himself free of the
armor at last and kicked it to land beside the rest of the Rivasan
disguise.

“Are you really calling Grim, Puppy?” Zoelyn
muttered in a bewildered voice. She couldn’t imagine anyone in Glis
or Arovan speaking of Grim in such a condescending way.

“Been his nickname since he first stepped
foot into the Academy and growled at me in his pathetic little
adolescent way.” Havoc replied with a snort of amusement.

“Neither here nor there and we are short on
time.” Zachary reminded him and Havoc nodded curtly.

The Firym’s gaze moved to the street beyond
and then back to Zachary. “Is it too much for him? Do you think he
can manage to live if we both go?”

“He has Morcaillo with him. I know enough of
Shade from speaking with Jala to know he won’t leave the Puppy to
face the Rivasans alone no matter what the plan is.” Zachary
returned easily.

Havoc nodded once more and waved a hand
toward himself in a careless gesture. Bright flame leaped from his
fingers completely obscuring his body in fire for several
breaths.

Blinking rapidly Zoelyn tried to clear her
eyes of the temporary blindness. She hadn’t expected Havoc to douse
himself in fire and she had been looking directly at him when he
did. As the spots faded from her vision he gradually came back into
focus. He was armored once more in the fine Black and red armor of
a Flamerider officer. Two blades rested easily against his hips and
his expression no longer held even a trace of annoyance.

“Alright. Let’s kick these pigs and see how
they squeal.” Havoc said with a grin.

“What?” Zoelyn mumbled looking to Zachary for
a translation.

“What he means to say is we will not be using
stealth and he doesn’t want the Puppy to take all of the fun of
killing the Rivasans. I concur. I’ve had enough stealth and deceit
to last me the rest of the year. I’d much rather face them and have
them know who is sending them to their grave.” Zachary smiled and
tossed the hooded cloak to the ground. He wasn’t wearing armor
underneath it, but a very large sword was strapped to his back, and
that seemed more than enough to satisfy him as he turned back the
way they had come. “Let’s leave that mess for Puppy to sort out and
find a quicker route that will waste less time.” Zachary suggested
with a casual wave in the direction that Shade and Grim were
in.

“Agreed. A lot to do and not much time to do
it if we are going to make it back here in time to kick the teeth
out of some of those asses.” Havoc smiled and winked at Zoelyn. “By
the way, your Blight friend can show himself if he likes. We both
know about him anyway.” He added with a sly grin and winked at
her.

“Now is an excellent time to prove yourself
to be your father’s son young man. Micah Arovan never slunk through
the shadows. He walked as a warrior and confronted everything with
honor.” Zachary added with a smile.

“Damn I like you so much better when you
aren’t drenched in Oblivion, Zach. You are almost human again. You
never smile when you are holding Oblivion inside you.” Havoc
murmured with a shake of his head and a smile that mirrored
Zach’s.

To her amazement Dray dropped his camouflage
and nodded solemnly to Zachary. The Blight smiled faintly then
bowed his head to Havoc in respect. “I don’t skulk because I’m a
coward. I skulk out of respect. I know my presence offends many
people and it is often the most diplomatic to simply avoid being
seen.” Dray’s voice was calm and for a moment a memory of his
father rang in her mind. She hadn’t seen Micah Arovan often, but
she remembered his voice and his careful wording well. Every day it
became more apparent that Micah’s memory would live on in his son,
even if they had never met.

Rivana

The thrum of bows rang through the air as
Shade moved as quickly as he dared toward Derrick. He could hear
the clash of swords behind him and the cries of wounded men, but he
didn’t dare look back to check on Caleb. He knew if he did the
desire to help his friend would overwhelm the knowledge that
Derrick Rivasa had to die.

His gaze settled on the blue grey horse
Derrick rode and he watched the animal dancing in place. Its ears
were pinned and its teeth were bared in fury. He’s been trained for
war. Shade realized and his steps slowed as he watched the animal
strike at the cobbled street with a steel-shod hoof. Sparks flew
from the stones and Shade’s approach slowed further. Derrick
wouldn’t see him he knew that much, but he wasn’t sure the horse
wouldn’t sense him. He wasn’t as stealthy as a true Blight and he
knew it. Just the faintest noise could send the edgy animal into a
fit that would leave him broken on the stones with hoof prints
decorating his face.

A shrill whistle sounded from behind him and
Derrick’s horse reared in response nearly unseating the man. With a
furious snarl the Rivasan cuffed the horse between the ears and
spurred it hard. The animal lunged forward to land on all four feet
once more and Shade had to dart back to avoid being crushed beneath
it. With a toss of its head the gray backed and stomped its feet
seeming even more agitated than it had been before the whistle.

A memory surfaced of Valor training horses in
Merro. It hadn’t truly been something of interest to Shade, but
Jala had been leaning on the rail watching and so he had stayed to
speak with her and ended up learning a thing or two about Arovan
horsemanship. Such as the fact that they trained their War Horses
with a mixture of whistles and leg pressure. His gaze traced over
the horse once more and then to the other Rivasan mounts and a
smile began to form on his lips.
Of course, this animal was a
prize of war
. Excitement rose in him with the realization.
Derrick had likely ridden it here to irritate Caleb. In turn Caleb
had given Shade the answer to his problem with one shrill whistle.
It was obvious by Derrick’s reaction to the horse’s rearing that he
didn’t realize how it was trained and that he was essentially
sitting on an enemy.

With a wide smile Shade stepped further away
from the agitated horse and searched his mind frantically for the
memory of Valor once more. There was a set whistle that would send
the horse leaping forward and if he could just remember it he was
certain Derrick would find himself kissing the cobbles. He wouldn’t
be able to do anything about the leg pressure cue of course, but he
hoped the animal was annoyed enough with Derrick’s heavy handed
treatment that even half of the signal would be enough.

A muffled curse broke through the fighting
behind him and Shade felt his pulse quicken at the sound. That was
Caleb’s voice. He was certain of it. It was a sheer act of will to
keep his mind focused on the memory and not turn to aid his friend,
but Shade gritted his teeth and let loose three sharp whistles in a
quick burst. He wasn’t certain it was the correct signal, but he
was praying to Fortune it was.

The Gray’s ears pinned further at the sound
and a squall tore from its throat as it launched itself into the
air. Both hind legs snapped out behind it in a deadly attack that
would have caved the skulls of anyone foolish enough to stand
behind an Arovan Charger. As it was a sandstone wall was the only
victim of the animal’s savage kick and the jarring impact propelled
the horse forward while managing to dislodge Derrick from the
saddle. The Rivasan scrambled to regain his seat and managed to
tangle himself in the reins. The horse squalled again only this
time there was agony in its call as the bit tore painfully into its
mouth. Derrick was dragged several feet and barely managed to
loosen his hand from the reins in time to scurry back from the
furious animal. For a breath Shade thought the horse would do his
job for him and then Derrick was clear of the animal and bumping
into Shade.