Shadow Gate (89 page)

“You are free to attend, if you wish.”

Was it a genuine offer, or a test? If ever there was a person Marit could not comprehend, this woman was that one, calm, thoughtful, and yet nameless. Only demons have no names.

“I'll come with you.”

She nodded, as if she had expected that answer all along.

B
UT WHEN THEY
returned to the army's camp outside the walls of Toskala, Marit found herself observing a
council of war. The flavor of the air and the tension in the stances of the soldiers assembled in the tent kept her alert.

Lord Radas paced beside a large table on which lay a map of the city and the surrounding environs. “At the sixth bell, tonight, the gates of Toskala will be opened, and we will march in.”

The hells! She'd missed something major, for sure.

“At first, there will likely be resistance from certain elements of Toskala's militia. Afterward, due to confusion sown in their ranks by our allies, we will triumph. Let this command pass back through the ranks, cohort commanders to company captains, company captains to cadre sergeants, and sergeants to each member of their cadre. Kill those who fight. The others,
do not touch.
Each soldier among you will be judged, and those who have broken this command will meet justice, which is death.”

Marit twitched the hanging aside to look into the smaller interior room behind, where Hari lay on a carpet. His cloak still smothered him, but his chest rose and fell. Otherwise he gave no sign of being alive. Kirit, sitting in silence beside Marit, looked in, too, and her grim little face creased in such a grim little frown that Marit wished heartily she could know what the outlander was thinking, or what the girl had seen or heard during the days Marit and the woman wearing the cloak of night had been away from camp.

“How much fighting can we expect, lord?” asked one of the commanders, addressing the map. “Maybe some have allied themselves with us, but the rest of the defenders will fight fiercely since they are fresh, lacking neither food nor water and with their courage still high. Might we not sit out the siege a while longer to sap their strength?”

“Is your courage not equal to the task? The sooner we have taken over an intact Toskala, the less likely reeves
will be willing to drop oil of naya lest they burn down the entire city even with us in it. Or do you question our plans?”

They all kept their heads down, like cringing dogs. Marit supposed a man could get used to having folk walk around him in that posture. He might come to like it, expect it, resent those who did not truckle.

She could no longer delay. She did not want to desert Hari. Curse him. Yet she must.

Tens of thousands of people lived in Toskala, and many thousands more had crowded into the city's five quarters in flight from the army. Someone had to warn the defenders of Toskala that traitors within the city meant to betray them—
tonight.

Lord Radas went on. “At dusk, assemble your companies and move in silence to the gates. Account for me the disposition of your cohorts.”

“What about you?” Marit asked Kirit in a low voice. “Do you mean to attack the city with them?”

The girl turned that inscrutable blue gaze on Marit. “I will ride with them. My mirror will show me what is truth, and what demons have corrupted with their shadow.”

As the commanders rattled off numbers and composition of various cadres, Marit eased behind the cloth wall separating her from Hari and crawled over the rug to kneel beside him. She dared not touch the cloak lest she interrupt whatever sorcery healed him. Finally, she left the chamber through another entrance, ignoring a guard's surprised exclamation. He wasn't the one she need worry about.

Saddle and harness and saddle bags rested beside a rolled up mattress. She gathered her things and, choosing boldness over caution, walked to the corral. She hadn't finished saddling Warning when a procession with Lord Radas at the lead and Yordenas and Kirit trailing paraded to the corral. Kirit lugged her own gear, but soldiers carried the harness belonging to the two men.

“You are here before us,” said Lord Radas with a gloating smile that told her, if she had not already suspected, that he had never trusted her. Had Kirit betrayed her? Or was she just so cursed obvious that anyone could have guessed? “We'll be ready shortly.”

“I was just going to water my mare at the nearest altar, the one upriver by Highwater.” She meant to play her game to the bitter end, anything to stall.

He laughed. “You will be surprised to learn that the nearest altar lies in Toskala, long forgotten but very much still there. Below the council chambers on the promontory most call Justice Square. We're expected for a council meeting.”

The hells! She'd been outmaneuvered. Too late she realized that over the last eight days the others had been engaged in an elaborate form of misdirection, keeping her out of the way. Yet they had made no direct move against her. How could they? It wasn't as if they could kill her.

“I thought,” said Yordenas peevishly, “you said Bevard was on his way back.” He fidgeted like a distempered lad too spoiled for his own good.

“Patience,” said Lord Radas. “Shall we go? Ramit?”

She'd have slugged him for all the good it would do. She had to go to Toskala and the council meeting. She had to try.

With night they flew, Lord Radas taking the lead and Yordenas flying in the rear, while in the camp below them the soldiers, like so many night-crawling serpents, began creeping into attack formation.

A
S
B
AI'S CHOSEN
escort when she trolled the camp pretending to be a merchant, Shai had plenty of opportunity to observe because folk tended to ignore him, thinking he was an outlander slave. The army that had laid siege to Toskala had good discipline, a neat camp,
and clear lines of authority. An off-duty sergeant could drink a bit, knowing others had his back. He could afford to be expansive.

“You see, it's like this,” said the sergeant, leaning close to Bai in a confiding manner. “There was a woman who wore the green cloak, but now the green cloak is a man. The woman displeased them, and Lord Radas raised someone else up to the honor, eh? So who's to say that some of us, the best and most obedient ones, might not have a chance at being raised to a cloak? Why not?”

“Do you think that's how it works?” Bai asked him. “That Lord Radas chooses? I thought the cloaks—Guardians, that is—were made by the gods.”

“The cloaks rule all, even death. I think the Guardians that was, in the tales, that they're all gone. Dead, maybe. Maybe they never even existed. Our commanders, now, they're something else.”

“What do you think they are?”

His gaze flickered toward the high banner pole, deep within the camp, that marked the big tents where the cloaks sheltered. He had a broken nose, healed crookedly, and a scar under his left eye. His expression shifted uneasily, and Bai quickly changed the subject.

“I'm getting my slaves fattened up and healthy, although it's costing me a cursed lot of vey. What do you think, sergeant? Think I should sell all of them outright? Or just the younger ones, and keep the older for a business? There's plenty here who will pay coin for sex. I could set right up in camp, maybe even work out of a pair of wagons if the army keeps moving south to Nessumara. I'm new to merchanting, as you might have guessed, but you seem like an experienced man who'll give me fair advice.”

He cleared his throat and handed her his cup. “That woman who watches your slaves, is she your lover?”

“Neh.” Bai sipped at the wine. “I'm not fashioned
that way. We made a deal. She works for me while she's looking for a protector.”

“Think she'd consider me?”

“Since I like you, I'll be honest, my friend. I think she's aiming for a captain, at the least. A commander, if she can reach so high. Where's your company's captain, anyway? I don't see his fat ass around.”

“Eh, there's a council going up at the big tent, neh? My captain's all right, though. Some of the other sergeants, they have to put up with real turds, if I may say so.”

Bai laughed. “You won't hear me arguing. Whew! What I had to put up with at the temple, I tell you! Heya! Look there. Is that your captain?”

The man was coming back at a trot, looking tense. He hailed his sergeants, and the man talking to Bai made his excuses and hurried over. Bai beckoned to Shai, and they moved off into camp.

“Something's up,” she said in a low voice. “A council of war this late in the afternoon. The way he came running back to rope in his sergeants. He's got orders.”

She led Shai back to the perimeter of camp where the camp followers and merchants had set up. When they arrived at the ragged tent she'd purchased for shelter, the children pressed forward to touch both her and Shai, as if making sure they were still alive and not ghosts.

“Where's Ladon?” she asked Veras and Eridit.

“A fellow came by wearing a badge marked with silk slippers, Edard's clan, the ones with river transport.”

“Why in the hells would river transporters badge their clan with silk slippers?” Shai asked.

Veras rolled his eyes. Bai smiled.

Eridit just shook her head. “You don't know the tale, do you? Anyway, Ladon went off with him.”

Bai frowned. “Did he say where they were going?”

“In fact he did. The abandoned Green Suns tanning yard. Not far from here.”

Bai nodded. “I know where it is. That's where I meet Tohon to exchange news. The hells! I'm going after him, make sure it's not a trap.”

“Heya,” said Shai, “I forgot. Edard told me that the password is ‘splendid silk slippers.' ”

“Edard told
you
?” Bai looked at him with a narrowed gaze, then shrugged. “It's worth trying. Veras, you'll come with me. You two stay here with the children. Be alert. Keep them ready to move at short notice.”

Eridit's eyes widened, and her look of alarm was real, not feigned. “What is it, Bai?”

“May be nothing. A feeling that's prickling my skin.” She grabbed a pair of slender assassin's knives, concealed them under her kilt, and strode off with Veras hurrying after.

“Now what?” Eridit asked.

Shai stuck his head into the tent, where the children sat and lay crammed together, watchful as they stared at him. “Form into banners. Pack up everything.”

“What's happening, Shai?” Yudit asked.

“Maybe nothing. Stay quiet, but be ready to move if I give you the signal. And for that matter, eat up now. Finish off the rice and nai. We can buy more tomorrow.”

The children began gathering up scraps of clothing, eating utensils, leather bottles, and sacks of rice. He came outside and sat on the bench he'd built from scraps of lumber. Eridit twitched her ass down beside him and leaned flirtatiously against his shoulder.

“I like it when you talk with so much confidence,” she purred.

“Stop it!” He moved away. After weeks marching with the prisoners, he could not bear to even think about sex. “Or are you truly as cursed stupid as Tohon must think you are?”

“That was a mean thing to say.”

“Just because Tohon didn't do the thing with you?”

“You jealous? Of his self-control, I mean.”

“You're being an ass.”

“A horse's ass, you mean, Shai. It's from the tale of the Swift Horse. It's a bedtime story. You know, before you get into . . . bed?”

“Leave me alone.”

“Great Lady,” said Yudit from within the tent. “Are you two arguing again?”

A soldier stumbled up toward the tent, obviously drunk. “Heya! You there! Outlander! I hear there's lasses and lads for sale, eh? Nice and young and tasty. Celebrated their Youth's Crowns and ready for a treat! Heh!”

Eridit ducked inside as Shai blocked the entrance. He wasn't as tall as the soldier, but he knew how to brace as he shouldered the man back. “Mistress hasn't opened yet for business, ver.”

“Sheh! You lot have sat here a week, eh? You've not fattened up that veal yet? I'll bring a tey of rice every evening, you just let me in.” He pushed.

Shai sank to get his weight lower, and shoved hard back. The man staggered, unable to keep steady.

“Outlander bastard!” He turned around and shouted. “Divass! Avard! Get over here. About time we took a taste of what these cursed shut-holes are withholding from us, eh?”

A pair looked up from haggling with a man seated on a blanket who was selling white plums and heaps of cawl petals.

Nudged from behind, Shai glanced over his shoulder. Eridit thrust the hilt of a short sword into his back. “Here.”

“That won't help me,” he muttered as the drunken man stumbled back to his friends and began gesticulating his complaints in a thready whine. Yah yah yah. Merciful God! How much longer Bai expected them to keep up this cursed pretense, Shai could not imagine. Men were coming around every cursed evening after drill, and so far Bai had managed to put them off with various plausible excuses delivered in her drawling, contemptuous style. “Hu! Take the children out the back if you have to. Here they come.”

The three swaggered with outraged privilege as they approached. Merciful One, act now!

A sergeant jogged through the ragged market street, pausing to grab men by the shoulders. “Heya! Heya! Three Circles cadre, report at once.”

A second sergeant followed, calling another group. Men turned from browsing the wares on offer: fried vegetables, hot noodles, goat's milk, carved bowls and spoons, an old man repairing knife hilts, women skinny from the abuse they took to fetch a few vey.

“Avard! Divass! Kili! Get your cursed horses' asses over here.”

“Assembly?” muttered the big one. “At dusk? After we've already been released from drill? The hells!” But he lumbered away.