"Told you it wasn't safe alone. Best out before someone else shows up."
He leaned over one of the bodies, carefully wiped his dagger blade, sheathed it.
The second time Kiron guessed right; five minutes more brought them to a door, a gold pig crudely painted above.
Inside was a tangle of rooms, smell of smoke, sweat, beer. They got lost twice before Kiron found his way to the central hall, sat down at one of the tables. Asbjorn squatted beside him.
"Beer a tenth bit, dinner two for you, one for the boy."
"Beer now, dinner later. Can you take a message to Niko?"
The woman looked at Kiron. "Who from?"
"Friend of a friend."
"Name? Niko's busy this time of night."
"Friend of his friend Giorgios."
"Friend of Giorgios. Right." She moved off, leaving a pitcher and one mug behind her. Kiron filled, drained, refilled, passed the mug down. Asbjorn took it without looking, continued to watch the room.
Half an hour later, a big man, gray, limping a little, made his round of the tables, stopping at some to exchange a few words. When he reached theirs he looked down at Kiron.
"Thena said a friend of Giorgios. Look familiar."
"I'm looking for another friend of Giorgios. Very old friend. I heard he was staying here. Quietly."
"What do I tell the friend of your friend who might be staying here, supposing I see him?"
"Tell him the boy who knows the pig is home, looking for him."
"The boy who knows the pig. Come to the right place." Niko drifted off, stopped at two more tables, vanished through a door.
It was almost dawn before they got back to the camp. While they were talking with the cat on guard, Caralla joined them. Kiron spoke softly:
"He wouldn't let me see the Commander. Either he isn't really there or he's afraid someone might be spying on him—or me. But Niko took a note, brought one back. He'll meet us at a place I know from hunting, a couple of miles from the walls. Half an hour after dark."
Moonlight in the clearing, three figures. Artos stood still trying to make them out. One stepped forward:
"Commander. The Lady Caralla ni Leonor, her companion Gudmund Ottarson."
He nodded, remained silent, looking curiously at the two strangers. The tall Lady spoke.
"Came about a bird; Father thought you could maybe use a hand. The Most Noble wanted to come along; brought him."
"Kind of you. Hand with what?"
"His father might want to be somewhere other than where he is at the moment."
A figure stepped out of the shadows, spoke to Caralla in the vales tongue, too quickly for Artos to follow. A boy. No. The Lady turned back to him.
"Any friends following you?"
Artos shook his head.
"Then not friends. Two. We'll deal with it."
She turned back to the young man, said something. He vanished into the trees.
"What sort of help?"
"Father thought finding safe people might be a problem; the Old Man's no fool. Not a problem for us. Brought a decade of cats, my nephew, the Most Noble. You want him out, see what we can do."
"May I take council with the Most Noble?"
The Lady nodded. "Quarter hour do it? We don't plan to be here much longer than that."
He nodded. The Lady and her companion stepped out of the clearing, vanished. Artos moved to the center; Kiron joined him. The two spoke quietly.
"The Lady?"
"Daughter of Harald and the Lady Commander, Order captain. Harald said she drove Gavin back across the river; I think he meant it."
"How did they get here?"
"Small caravan, some cats guards, some drivers. Quiet trip."
"Do you trust them?"
Kiron hesitated. "Haraldholt was strange—more like visiting a big family than prisoner in an enemy hold. Some day, peace, Father doesn't need me a while, I'll go back. He's clever, might have fooled me, but I talked with the children, watched them. Good people. Wouldn't help us if he didn't think it helped him, but I think you can trust him. Them."
"Emperor is moving in force against the Karls. Harald knows or guesses. If we can get your father free, west of the low pass where our people are, one more thing for the Emperor to worry about. The more things he has to worry about, happier Harald is."
"Do we do it?"
"For His Highness to decide. I have someone in the palace. For now, we go with them."
Artos spoke quietly. "Sure the cloth could be seen from the palace?"
Asbjorn nodded.
"Tallest tree, near the top, branch on the palace side."
"She should be coming soon. Best just me."
"Yes." Asbjorn, Caralla, Hedin faded back into the trees, leaving Artos alone in the open space by the road. West in the faint moonlight loomed the palace wall, the greater bulk of the cliff behind. He waited.
It was almost half an hour before he saw the figure approaching. As she drew near he spoke in a low whisper. "Janel."
She started, said nothing, stopped in the road next to where he stood.
"Tosi?"
"Yes. How is he?"
"Well. Not counting the headache I'm out finding herbs for. What is it?"
"Chance to get him out if he wants. I need to talk to him."
"Message do?"
"Talk would be better. Can he get to the lower orchard? Bit of wall there—guard posts don't cover the bottom. We can settle what we're going to do, messages later on when and where."
"I can get him there. He might be alone, might not."
"Tomorrow evening, a little after dark. Outside the arrow slit by the big tree. Tell him to whistle 'cherry tree' if he's there, it's safe. If he wants me to run for it, drop something that makes a loud noise, curse."
"Yes. 'Cherry tree' to talk, drop and curse to run."
They were both silent a moment. He reached out, gave her a brief hug.
"Find your herbs. Luck."
A rattle of stones, loud voices. The Prince looked up from his book. The guard by the gate was staring up at the cliff behind the palace. A moment later a second guard appeared, spoke to him quickly. The first guard turned.
"Someone on the rocks behind the palace; up to something. Your Highness should stay here, other side of things, safe enough." He went out the gate; Iskander heard the bolt slide, got up. After a few minutes wandering about restlessly in the fading light he picked up his chair, carried it over to the outer wall, set it down where he could rest his back against the gnarled trunk of an old apple tree, returned to his book. In a little while he began to whistle softly.
From the wall two sharp clicks, one, two more. He stopped whistling, looked around. The gate was still closed, the orchard empty.
"Yes?"
"Your boy's back. Fellow he was staying with sent some friends. We think we can get you out if you want to go."
"Maybe. How goes it in the city?"
"A couple of men followed me from the Boar. Safer west of the pass with people we trust. He's moving, twelve legions, cross the bridge, south for Eston. Gives us time. In a few weeks we can have more at this end of things than he does. Work from there."
"What's our friend want in exchange?"
"Nothing. Fight on his hands, maybe he figures this helps a little. Doesn't cost him much. Your boy likes him, trusts him—might be a reason to favor you."
"Everyone does—one reason he keeps beating us. Can he do it again?"
"Twelve legions, cavalry, lights. Early harvest is in, enough supplies. Emperor commanding—won't make stupid mistakes. Anyone else, take a miracle. I would have staked my life he couldn't get an army to the Oasis. Have to bet, bet on Harald."
Iskander thought for a long minute.
"Harald wins, Emperor weak—safer out of his hands. Emperor wins, I can still bargain myself back here. Maybe. Looks like I have to bet. Do it. Let me . . ."
At the sound of the gate opening—he must have missed the bolt—Iskander stood up. The book fell with a thud onto the stone paving.
"Damn. Lost my place. Can you help with the chair? It's getting cold out."
"Beautiful things. Surely some of the highborn ladies would want . . ."
"Not this late, miss. Gate closed, two of us to keep it that way."
"It isn't really dark yet. Perhaps one of the highborn could come down and see?"
"They don't buy from peddlers at the front door, miss, not like your ma or mine. Real highborn ladies in golden chairs with maids to fan them, musicians."
He raised the lantern. Not young but not bad looking if you liked them tall. He thought a moment.
"I can't get you in tonight, but come back in the morning, some of the serving ladies might buy. I could tell them, maybe get you in then if any of the highborn say so. What sort of pretties do you have?" The other guard caught the glance, stepped back to the inside of the gate.
Two steps brought them out of his line of sight, into shadow. The guard cupped her cheek with one hand; she closed her eyes, leaned back for the kiss. Something struck him hard on the back of the head; Caralla caught him as he fell.
A few minutes later the second guard saw his comrade come back into sight, still talking quietly with the woman, one arm around her. A familiar voice from the shadow of the tree in the inner court.
"His Highness is still sick; they asked me to try to find some herb the physician wants. Can you help with a lantern?"
The guard let go of the woman, picked up his lantern, stepped back through the gate. Its light showed a figure wrapped in a cloak. He nodded, escorted her through the gate, handed her the lantern, turned back to the woman still standing by the wall.
It was half an hour before it occurred to the second guard that there might be something wrong, other than someone else having all the luck.
A mile east, where the road from the gate crossed the main road running north to the low pass, south to the ford, a brief conference.
The Prince had dropped the borrowed cloak, was pulling off the robe while he spoke.
"Do you know if Janel got out all right?"
Kiron handed his father a spare tunic.
" 'Bjorn was supposed to meet her outside the back gate; they should be here soon."
"The Commander?"
"Should be back with Cara any minute."
"The Lady the Commander was pretending to be distracted by?"
Artos stepped into the light of the lantern, the Lady behind him.
"Had jobs I liked less."
"Father, this is the Lady Caralla. Harald's daughter."
She stopped glaring at Artos, turned to the Prince.
"Luck, half an hour. Might be less. Spare horses for you, yours. Commander says north. We're going south."
She turned to Kiron. "Be careful. All over, come visit."
"What do we know? Lord Stephen first."
Stephen nodded to the King, looked around the small council room. In addition to the King and two of his captains, it held Brand of River Province and the lord of Westval, come with the King. At the far end of the table Leonora, Harald standing beside her.
"They've been rebuilding the bridge, with most of a legion this side of the river to protect it. Troops are assembling on their side. There are probably more farther back, out of sight. I won't risk men scouting there—too many troops, especially Bashkai. But we can see loaded boats on the river, word of mouth has a lot of stuff on the roads." He stopped, looked at the Lady Commander.
"I won't risk scouts across the river either. But we have friends. Rumor says a big army assembling, the Emperor out to do Gavin's job right."
Harald spoke:
"Word three weeks ago. Emperor moved against the princes. Second Prince locked up in the summer palace. Don't know about his brother."
The King looked puzzled. "You think it's connected?"
"Emperor's old, sons ambitious. Second Prince is clever, has Artos, support in the West, some in the legions. First Prince not quite as clever, richer, kin through his mother to half the highborn in the eastern capital. Old Man's been playing them off against each other past five years, more. They got tired of it.
"This spring, a gamble. One invasion wins, one loses, loser backs the winner against the Emperor. Emperor's been trying for twenty years, hasn't beat us yet. One of the princes does it, legions may decide they've been backing the wrong man.
"Emperor's old, not stupid. Don't know what he planned if they pulled it off—maybe offer whichever was weaker the succession in exchange for support. I think he expected what happened. They attacked early spring, food tight, each prince used his own people. We beat them. First harvest is in now, Emperor can move in force. Pulls it off, does what they couldn't, wins twice—beats us, beats them. Peaceful old age. Much to be said for it."
"So you think this is an invasion in force?"
Harald nodded. "Why I'm here. Crossed east with two cacades—what I could raise fast. Hrolf, Egil, Donal, a few other friends later with more. Empire will move south with everything they can raise and feed—eight legions at least, probably more. Can't match us in cavalry, but close as they can manage."
"You"—the King's glance encompassed both Harald and the Lady beside him—"have been fighting him for twenty years. What will he do? What should we do?"
Harald looked at Leonora, back to the King.
"Emperor makes mistakes—but not the same mistake twice. Army bigger than ours, slower. Wants to show up the princes, can't use Artos even if he could find him, which with luck he can't. Emperor will command, knows his own limits. Simple strategy, overwhelming force, as little maneuver as he can manage.
"Could imitate Gavin, go for the northern holds. Takes them, can't feed that army forever, goes home. Eventually we take them back. Doesn't just want to do better than the princes, wants to finally beat us. He needs a target we can't move, have to defend."