Starcrossed (48 page)

The ladder led to a narrow crawl space almost directly above Antoch’s rooms, then a tight staircase dropped into the space between his chamber and the servants’ stair. I knew I was near when I heard angry voices, muffled through the walls of wood and stone. I couldn’t make them out, but I prayed it was the Cardom, starting their per for mance. I felt through the dark for the end of the stairs, the back of Antoch’s paneling, a latch in the wall. My fingers had just worked out the mechanism when a shrill voice in the distance declared, “Absolutely disgraceful!”

Lady Cardom, right on schedule. I took a deep breath.

I flipped the latch,
easy, easy,
just tapped it open . . . The door slid silently sideways, tucking back neatly inside the wall. Listening first, I could hear nothing between Lady Cardom railing in the hallway, and the almost soundless rustle of the heavy tapestry hanging in front of me. Now behind Antoch’s bed, I sank down, feeling for the bottom of the bed frame.

As Lady Cardom carried on outside, I slid onto my belly and pulled myself under the bed, pushing forward with my toes. My shoes were wet and my feet were cold, and I left a trail of damp behind me that we’d have to crawl through again. Fortunately there was plenty of daylight seeping through the heavy bed-hangings, and nearly enough room underneath for me to sit up without hitting my head on the straps holding the mattresses in place.

“Is this how all His Grace’s interrogations are carried out? I tell you, the things I’ve seen in this house —”

I inched forward and found a gap in the curtain panels, lifting them aside so I could see into the room. Meri’s chair was still by the fireplace — which was
still
unlit, the savages — and I only spotted one pair of green boots beneath a long green hemline. I eased myself to the far side of the bed and slipped out into a snug alcove between the bed and the wall, still mostly hidden from view, unless somebody decided to look straight at the bed itself.

I peered round the corner. Meri was facing the wrong direction; she’d have to turn halfway around to see me, and I was going to have to cross half the open room to reach her. As I waited, debating my next move, a Confessor appeared, carrying a book, and seated himself right across from Meri. Pox — he was going to read scripture to her. This could take all afternoon.

Blessedly, at that moment Lady Cardom’s protests hit a new level. “I will not be manhandled by you, young man!” she cried, quickly followed by the outraged voice of Lord Cardom: “Take your hands off my mother! Can’t you see she’s frail? Guard! Help! Guard!”

Meri turned her head toward the door, startled, and as she glanced across the room, her eyes caught mine. They went wide suddenly, but darted away again just as quickly. She was pale, and there was no way to tell what she was thinking, but my heart was hammering wildly.

“Take your hands off me!” Lady Cardom’s voice was loud and incensed. “In my day, servants of the Holy Mother would never have disgraced themselves this way!”

Suddenly Meri spoke to her Confessor. “Oh, don’t you think you should see what’s happening?” she said, her sweet voice wavering with concern. “I think he might hurt her!”

For a brief, deadly moment, I worried the Confessor would ignore her. But he was young, and kept casting ner vous glances toward something in the corner I could not see. Finally he set the book down in his seat and got up to investigate.

Now!
I scurried out into the room, but Meri was shaking her head wildly. I edged backward, frowning, and she nodded toward the obscured corner, carefully mouthing one word to me.

Werne.

Damn.

I had to get Meri out of here before the Cardom got themselves arrested too. A moment later, Meri looked straight at me and yelled, “Help! Help! I think he’s going to kill her! Your Grace, come quickly!”

I froze, my heart in my throat, but Meri showed no fear.

“What is it now?” said a cross, low voice, and Werne stepped into my field of vision. He stared at Meri with contempt and loathing, but she met his gaze, her eyes wide and innocent.

“Your Grace,” she pleaded. “Might you go see what that fuss is? I truly do think someone might be hurt.”

“I told you
silence
, blasphemer!” He turned back, and Meri looked at me despairingly. I had just decided to dash forward anyway and fight it out as I could, when from the hallway, Lady Cardom gave one piercing, heart-stopping scream.

“What in Celys’s name?” Werne spun on his heel and headed toward the door. I dived for Meri, skidding across the floor and then searching through the silver chains for the tiny locks. I fumbled through my bodice for my thinnest lock pick. Could I
snap
the chains? They were so thin — I bent my head to take a link in my teeth and gave a yank sideways with my head. The delicate chain popped apart, but something burned on my lips and tongue, and for a moment my vision blurred.

Out in the hallway, I heard Eptin Cwalo’s smooth voice trying to calm everybody down. I frantically unwound the chains, but my fingers felt strangely fat and I couldn’t work them fast enough. I finally got one of Meri’s hands free, and she fought through the bonds with me, until they were loose enough for her to pull her other hand out.

“They’re coming back,” she whispered, and I grabbed her bodily and shoved her, none too gently, down underneath the bed.

“Go, go!” I hissed, right behind her.

“Where?” she said wildly, her face pressed to the floor.

“Straight back — there’s a hidden door, you’ll go right through!”

Meri found it, thank the gods, just as Cwalo’s voice grew closer and more distinct. He was
in
the room now, and he had to keep them occupied long enough for Meri and me to reach the roof. Otherwise they’d tear the room apart until they found our escape route.

“Quickly now, or they’ll find us,” I said, coming up behind Meri in the passage. I slid the little door closed, wishing I had some way to jam it shut.

“Here,” Meri said, and she passed something thin into my hand in the darkness. It felt like a hairpin, long and flexible. I bent it open and thrust it between the back of the door and its narrow track. It wouldn’t stop anyone determined — but it might keep the hidden door from being discovered immediately. “I took it from one of the Confessors when she bent over me to check the chains,” she explained. “I thought it might be useful, somehow.”

I was too astonished to say anything, just nudged Meri forward, up the narrow stair. “Can you make a light?”

In the darkness I felt her shake her head. “There was something — wrong about the chains,” she whispered. “It wasn’t ordinary silver; it
burned
.”

That would account for the strange taste in my mouth. “That’s all right,” I said. “Just go quickly and try not to bump your head. Two flights up, and we’ll be on the roof.”

She barely faltered in her climb, and in a moment we could see the square of light from the open trapdoor above. Weak with relief, I pushed Meri upward. “Berdal’s standing guard,” I said. “Do you see him?”

She climbed out onto the snowy terrace, and I could see her looking down the roofline. “Yes, he’s —” but whatever else she said was lost to the wind. I saw her stumble forward, out of my view, and I climbed up after her — as a dark, scarred face bent low to meet mine.

“Hello, little mouse,” Daul said, and something hard and cold smashed into my face.

Something was dragging on my arm, and I heard whimpering. I felt myself stumble, then get jerked to my feet again. Gradually the red fog of my vision cleared, and I saw that I was being pulled along the roofline by Daul, who was prodding Meri along before him, a silver-handled pistol at her back.

“Daul!” I tried to shout, but my voice was slurred and dull, and my mouth was full of blood. I must have bitten my tongue when he hit me, probably with that pistol-butt. He glanced back, saw I was alert, and grinned cruelly.

“Welcome back, little mouse. We missed you.”

“What are you doing? Let us go!” He was jerking me along so erratically I couldn’t get to my knife; it took all my effort just to stay upright and keep up. I yanked hard on my arm, but didn’t even throw him off stride.

“Not yet, I don’t think,” he said. “You’ll enjoy this next part.” He pulled me toward him, trying to line me up with Meri. “I’m going to return His Grace’s prizes to him.”

“Don’t do this!”

Daul ignored me. He was leading us from the roof toward the broad ramparts of the bailey wall. Meri was shivering — from cold or fear I couldn’t tell. I’d only meant to have her up here a moment, before Berdal bundled her in fur and whisked her to safety inside the attic.

Berdal — what had happened to him? Had Daul — I tried to glance backward, up to the Lodge roof, but the snow was blinding, and I could barely see Daul and Meri. If I could get Daul’s gun —

He pulled me tighter, and I fell forward, bumping into him. “His Grace expects you both in good condition, but I think he might find you a little . . . disappointing.” Daul was panting, his words coming in choppy bursts.

“Why are you doing this? Antoch’s not the Traitor!”

He ignored me. “Imagine my delight when I discovered that the Inquisitor seemed to have a particular interest in
you.
”

“You knew that already!” But no. He’d never said anything about Werne specifically, and he’d hardly needed specifics to intimidate me.
You flinch anytime someone mentions your brother.
Marlytt’s limited knowledge would have been enough. A brother in the church, one chancy remark, and my own imagination filled in the rest. Oh, stupid sneak thief! I
deserved
to get caught.

But Meri didn’t. I had to get her away from him. He took us down a few more snowy steps, and now I could see the Green Army in the distance, a faint mossy blot below us through the snow. We were at the east tower now, with its stair that led straight down to the gates.
Gods, he means to go through with this!

At that moment, the tower door exploded open. Daul and Meri stumbled back a few steps, and in that second of confusion, he let go of my arm. I lunged for Meri, but Daul had a better grip. He had her back in his arms, the gun poised, in a heartbeat.

“Daul! What’s the meaning of this?” Antoch’s roar carried even over the wailing wind.

I could see Meri straining to break free and run for her father’s arms. “Let the girls go!” Antoch cried.

Daul yanked Meri back, the barrel of the pistol pressed into her bodice. “I don’t take orders from you anymore, Antoch!”

Antoch looked baffled. “What do you want, Remy?”

Daul gave a shrug. “This.”

“Daul,
he’s not the Traitor
!” I cried.

“Lies!” Daul yelled back. “You said he confessed!”

Antoch fell back, like Daul had struck him. “What?”

“No, Daul, it was never Nemair! I found the proof!”

Daul twisted Meri in his grip and peered out at me over her shoulder. “What proof?”

I inched a little closer. When I could grab the gun — “It was in the journal.”

“There was nothing in the journal! You know that. It was worthless nonsense.”

“No, there was nothing in the journal I gave you. The real one has every thing.”

“Real one?” His knuckles on the pistol whitened.

“The one I gave you was a copy. I forged it. The real one — I held on to it.” Even now I found I couldn’t say what Meri had been using it for.

Meri was trembling so violently, I was afraid she’d set the gun off.

Antoch was struggling to catch up. “Daul, I don’t understand how she knows, but what Celyn is saying is true. I swear by Sar herself that I did not betray our people. Please, just let my daughter go, and we can talk about this like rational men.”

“You’re lying!”

“No!” I cried. “Listen to us.”

“If it’s not you — who was it, then?”

I waited for Lord Antoch to say, but he hesitated. “It was Lougre Séthe.”

“Impossible.” But Daul’s voice wavered, tinged with doubt. “Séthe couldn’t find the privy by himself — how could he give over troop movements to Bardolph’s forces?”

“It wasn’t what Séthe told them,” Antoch said. “It was what he leaked to us. False intelligence; we relied on it, and —” His shoulders sagged with the old memory.

Daul was shaking his head. “Séthe ended up with nothing. He died in exile — a beggar!”

“Remy —” Antoch’s huge voice was gentle, pleading. “It will all make sense if you just let Merista go and allow me to explain it to you.”

Daul’s arm was tight around Meri’s body, and her lips were turning faintly blue with cold. A shadow moved behind Daul, a ghost in the snow. I froze, scarcely willing to breathe — but Daul saw that my attention had been diverted, and he turned.

Just in time to have the tower door bang open once more, hard against the side of his head. Daul stumbled again, and this time I was quicker — I grabbed Meri by the arm and yanked her free, pushing her across the snowy walkway to her father.

Daul whirled toward the turret, and the shadow in the snow slammed into him, nearly knocking him off his feet. The figure was tall and dark-haired, and for a moment I took him for Berdal — until I saw that brown wool jerkin. I bit down on my sore tongue to stop from crying out.