Markan Sword

  Neptarik's head swung back to the gate. He had definitely heard a noise. He stared warily at the gate, expecting it to mysteriously open, but nothing of the sort happened.

  He crossed over and put his eye to a crack between two of the slats. Something moved beyond, but he could not make out what. Thief? Ally? Someone else?

  The shape moved away and Neptarik glimpsed a cloaked figure moving along the alleyway. He turned and went inside again.

  "Do you often get people wandering along the alley?" he asked Ilina.

  The infertile shrugged. "Of course, it is an alley."

  "Just caught someone trying to look into the yard."

  "Probably nothing." Ilina shrugged. "So long as whoever it was did not try to force his way in, we have nothing to worry about."

  "Given what our owners are doing, we have everything to worry about," Neptarik told her. "Your owner's life is at risk and very likely ours too. Anything strange going on should be noted, always."

  Ilina sniffed. "The only strange thing going on around here is you," she said, before returning her attention to dusting.

  Neptarik restrained a sigh, but his suspicions were aroused. Without knowing why or how, Pallun and his sylph just did not add up.

  "Excuse me," he said, after a pause, "but I'm going for a walk."

  Ilina nodded an acknowledgment, but said nothing.

  ***

  Tektu had no idea where the man with the polished boots ended up. Pale Blue Eyes caught up with Polished Boots and the two men had a brief conversation – of which Tektu only caught snippets – before they parted company.

  Now this behavior was equally strange, so Tektu decided to stay with Pale Blue Eyes. He turned back towards the palace and she followed him directly there, watching him nod to the guards and disappear inside.

  "Thought you were staying by the temple," said Neptarik, catching her as she crossed the square. "I thought they had captured you."

  "I followed Pallun," she replied. "And I have a feeling he has met agents working for Dervra."

  "Certain?" Neptarik's silvery eyes stared patiently into her own.

  "Not all that certain. I only saw people go into and leave the tavern, but a man with polished boots went inside and only left after Pallun. And he was being watched by another man who had a conversation with him before going into the palace."

  Neptarik shook his head. "This place is a mess of politics," he sighed. "Do you think Pallun is a traitor?"

  Tektu shrugged. "No idea. But be very careful."

  Neptarik smiled. "I am always careful," he replied.

  "Where are you going now?"

  "Just for a walk through the markets. What are you going to do?"

  Tektu scowled. "I will keep on eye on Pallun's place. Come and speak to me before you go back inside so I can report."

  Neptarik nodded and wandered away.

  Tektu pushed Neptarik from her thoughts. He could probably look after himself and she could always point directly towards him. She did not want anything untoward to happen to him. The bond itself worked against that, making her protective towards her owner. But also changing allegiance always hurt and she did not want that to happen twice in as many years, unless it meant her freedom.

  The infertile she had chased from under the andler tree returned and stared at her with unfriendly eyes. Tektu guessed she had stolen this girl's begging spot.

  "You normally beg here?"

  The infertile nodded and moved closer. A knee poked through her leggings and her tunic looked threadbare and worn.

  "A deal for you," said Tektu.

  "It is my spot," said the infertile.

  "Listen, or leave," said Tektu, hardening her expression.

  The infertile flinched.

  "You beg here while I watch over there," said Tektu. "All coppers and all food you get is yours. All the silver is mine."

  "All mine," insisted the infertile.

  "Except the silver." Tektu stared until the infertile reluctantly nodded. "Good girl."

  Tektu watched the infertile as she settled down against the temple wall. She kept her eyes as blank as possible and hid her smile as she realized she had thoroughly intimidated the infertile.

  Tektu turned away and entered the temple graveyard. She pushed her way through the weeds until she found a discreet spot to watch Pallun's place.

  She vaguely heard the infertile's voice calling for alms. Extra silver would always come in useful.

  Carts came and went from Pallun's yard all the time. Tektu even saw the man himself, supervising the work. She also caught glimpses of his infertile, scurrying about with alovak.

  But there was nothing to catch her interest here. She concentrated thoughts on Neptarik for a few moments, wondering why he had not returned from his walk. Her bond told her he stayed in one place, strange for one who claimed to be walking.

  Probably the stupid scout had decided to exceed his orders and interfere where he had no need. She had noticed that trait before. Rescuing Mya had been no part of his orders in Re Taura, she now knew. Perhaps he was spying again.

  Tektu shook her head, part in exasperation and part in... It felt like concern, but Tektu knew it couldn't possibly be that. Much as she hated to admit it, there was something likeable about Neptarik, though she knew Mya would never forgive her for what she had done to her previous owner.

  Gradually, the sun shifted and began to set, the streets slowly emptying of people. The infertile came into the graveyard and almost squeaked as Tektu appeared silently beside her.

  "Your silver," said the infertile holding out a hand.

  Tektu took the five pieces of silver. "Just the five? You have been there all day; I managed as much in a fraction of the time."

  The infertile watched Tektu with wary eyes.

  Tektu leaned forward and frisked the other sylph, ignoring her protests. Tektu had little wish to search the creature, suspecting the infertile did not wash quite as often as perhaps she ought, but found another eight pieces of silver without delving too deeply.

  "How much copper?" asked Tektu.

  "You said I could keep that!"

  "How much copper?" repeated Tektu.

  Reluctantly, the infertile showed the copper. Tektu rummaged through it and took the largest pieces. The infertile began to cry.

  "You tried to hide silver from me, despite our agreement," said Tektu. "Think yourself lucky I have only charged you a few coppers and not welted your hide."

  "What are you?" whispered the infertile.

  "Something for you to fear," Tektu whispered back. "I will be back in the morning. Sleep well."

  Tektu's attention returned to Neptarik. He had only gone for a walk and there was still no sign of him. Her senses warned her something must have gone wrong. Where was he?

  ***

  Neptarik stirred and put a hand to his head. Apart from some grogginess, he felt quite all right. He blinked and shook his head. What had happened?

  He was sat in a wooden chair and not restrained in any way. His feet reached the floor comfortably and he felt no bruises or injuries. The room he found himself in had four sandstone walls, one slightly curved, and that wall had the only window.

  "Awake now?" asked a human voice.

  Neptarik turned his head, immediately spotting an average looking man with dark hair and cold, pale blue eyes.

  "What happened?" he asked. "Where am I?"

  "You really should be more careful what you accept from infertile sylphs," chided the human. "What happened was that I gave you something to make you sleep. You are presently inside Turivkan's palace, a guest of the Prefect, though he doesn't know you're here. Yet. And he needn't know, if you are cooperative."

  "Who are you?"

  The man smiled, though his pale blue eyes showed no more emotion than before. "My name is Marlen Ulvan Masser."

  Neptarik blinked. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

  The man's expression hardened again. "Your collar claims Neptarik-y
-Selhend, though I doubt that is your real name."

  "I am Neptarik." The sylph nodded.

  "Very good. And you are involved in this... rebellion."

  The sylph kept silent.

  Marlen lifted his hands. "No need to answer. I don't even have to torture replies from you. I have contacts."

  "Then what do you want from me?"

  "An intelligent question; clever boy."

  Neptarik almost told the man that he could save his patronizing attitude, then realized he could sense Marlen. He must be Gifted. Or a sorcerer. Knowing who ruled here, the scout suspected the latter.

  Marlen took a chair opposite Neptarik and leaned forward on his elbows.

  "What I want is for you to go to the leaders of this rebellion and ask them to grant me safe passage out of Turivkan."

  Neptarik blinked.

  "I'm aware of your friend also in the city. Ah, Tektu. The Prefect has come across her before, in Re Taura. He's most curious to learn precisely what she is. It probably involves a lot of cutting and probing and pulling out of innards. Dervra's like that sometimes, his curiosity is almost insatiable."

  "Is that a threat?"

  Marlen laughed aloud. "More a promise. You will take the question and you will return with the answer. Or I betray your friend to Dervra."

  Neptarik almost told the man to do it, but simple decency stilled his tongue. Tektu might behave that way, but Neptarik was different. He would not leave even her to Dervra's non existent mercy.

  "Safe passage," he said. "Out from Turivkan."

  "From the Prefecture, not just the city," added Marlen.

  "And if the answer is not the one you want to hear?"

  Marlen smiled again. "We'll discuss that then," he said.

  "I might not return," said Neptarik. "They might not let me."

  "Poor old Tektu." Marlen smiled.

  "How did you know we were in the city?"

  "A pigeon came," replied Marlen. "The man who gets the messages is a friend of a friend."

  Oh, how right Balnus had been!

  Marlen shrugged and continued. "Of course, it only told me about you, real name Neptarik-y-Balnus, scout for the Markan Army. But like all who are Charmed, we have our ways."

  "My owner might not let me return."

  "We don't have to meet in the city," replied Marlen. "We could meet just outside the gates. Bring friends if you are worried and I will bring Tektu, as a sign of goodwill."

  "Why do you need safe passage?" asked Neptarik.

  A shadow flickered in Marlen's eyes, the first open emotion the sylph had seen there. "Let's just say I don't figure in Dervra's plans for after Turivkan."

  Neptarik's mouth dropped open. "He's going to let the rebels win?"

  Marlen laughed. "He's going to let the rebels take the city," he replied. "That's not the same as winning."

  Neptarik felt cold and wished he understood what Marlen had just said. How could they take the city and not win?

  He sniffed and sat back in his chair. "I will do as you ask," he promised. "What is the message?"

  ***

  Chapter 26

  New Plan Of Action

  Ean began to regret capturing Aiten within a couple of days.

  The men had congratulated him and told him how much they respected his initiative and quick thinking. Ean's fellow scouts were also pleased, though only Belaika really spent any time with the captive, finding him a lot less insulting this time around. Belaika spent his time trying to learn how much Eldovan sylphs had copied and what they still did not know. He seemed torn between keeping as much as possible secret and actively helping these new scouts.

  Aiten proved himself more talkative with Belaika than on their previous meeting, but he regarded Ean with icy contempt.

  "Slippery," he muttered, whenever Ean came near.

  Ean stayed away after that.

  He expected – had hoped for – a request from General Lowst for the return of his sylph, but the other group of Eldovans remained silent. Didn't they care about losing one of their sylph scouts?

  Officers took Aiten aside most days for questioning, which appeared to Ean to be friendly chats rather than interrogations. As a prisoner, he was treated far more leniently than Belaika had been the previous year. Then again, Aiten was not a foreign sylph in their view.

  Ean found the reaction of the camp infertiles strange. While some were clearly pleased that Eldova had its own "painted devils", most regarded Aiten in exactly the same light as his eastern cousins. As something to be reviled and feared.

  Mirrin insisted the captured scout stayed with him while they marched on towards Eldova. Belaika and Ean ran ahead, while Fhionnen and Samel brought up the rear, leaving the flanks to human scouts.

  Crossing a plain dotted with farms, Belaika and Ean kept well apart, sending regular pingers to each other, but came together when the two armies halted.

  "Not seen a sign of any of theirs," remarked Belaika, referring to Eldovan sylph scouts.

  Ean grinned and his earpoints twitched. "Probably frightened of losing one or two more," he replied.

  "We must make a plan in case we need to sneak into their camp," said Belaika.

  "What?" Ean sat up.

  "Into Lowst's camp. We might need orders from Kelanus-ya."

  "We get orders when Shyamon whistles the daily love message for Aiten," protested Ean. "We need take no risks."

  Messages for Aiten began the night of his capture. Reassuring messages telling the captive to be strong, to hold fast and keep a tight rein on his fear. The sylph looked surprised to receive anything at all, but refused to explain either the messages or his strange reaction.

  "Lowst is not a stupid man, he will soon ask we swap Aiten for Shyamon. He must at least suspect Shyamon is being used to pass messages, other than comfort for our captive."

  Ean sniffed. "He is enjoying an easy life right now," he complained. "No running about and a gentle walk beside Mirrin's horse. Not even secured behind it."

  Belaika winced at the memory of being tied behind a horse and stumbling along in its wake.

  "We might all need to run," he said. "We cannot lose contact with Kelanus-ya. He has probably worked out a new plan. Or an escape."

  Ean shrugged. "Do you think the Eldovans will turn on us?"

  "Can we really trust them? Janost is certainly no friend and Mirrin is just one man. Maybe they can buy forgiveness from Hingast simply by handing us over."

  Ean blinked; he had not considered that.

  "And there is something else," continued Belaika. "Are the messages for Aiten really everything they seem? There might be another code at work here."

  Ean's earpoints stood upright at that one. "All right," he said. "We need to make a plan to get into their camp and speak with Kelanus. How?"

  "We must include Fhionnen and Samel, but none of the Eldovans."

  Ean gave his companion a patient look. "Already took that one as obvious."

  Belaika grinned. "We can move at night and only one of us need actually take the risk of getting in. Maybe we should throw coins for it, like Neptarik would."

  "Needs someone experienced," said Ean. "Me or you."

  "Between us two then. These are my thoughts..."

  Ean listened to Belaika and made a suggestion here and there. When they finally stood, as the armies readied to move on again, Ean wore a smile. The plan sounded good, very good.

  He thought they should try it out, even without need.

  ***

  Mirrin stared at the captive sylph scout. Shashi sat a short distance away, watching and listening for any eavesdroppers, while Aiten lounged on the ground, quite unconcerned about his captivity.

  "So Lowst has no orders to slaughter us?" Mirrin asked.

  "Not so far as we know, donenya. It is those who fought further north who are tainted, and Marshal Janost, of course."

  "Strange, because Janost seems to be Hingast's main supporter here," replied Mirrin. "And the impression I
get is that Hingast fled the field."

  Aiten grimaced and bowed his head towards the ground. "Forgive me if I am too forward donenya, but Lowst-ya says you were not there."

  "Neither was Lowst. Nor you."

  Aiten nodded acquiescence. "Lowst-ya has orders that allow him to use greater initiative. He much regrets having killed already, and mourns the loss of his own men in our recent fight. But he says Eldova will need her sons in the times ahead."

  "And General Lowst has told you this?" pressed Mirrin.

  "Even before we left Eldova. In case anybody was taken prisoner." The sylph scowled at the ground for a moment.

  "Sounds a lot like Lowst's command style." Mirrin smiled. "You did not expect to be among the prisoners."

  Aiten shook his head and looked up, earpoints stiffly upright in anger. "That scout tricked me," he protested.

  "Learn from the mistake," snapped Mirrin. "You must learn to be as independently minded as the Markan sylphs, and think on your feet."

  "Se bata."

  "Ean's was an excellent ruse; ensure it never works again."

  Aiten inclined his head again.

  Mirrin changed the subject. The captive scout Shyamon whistled a message from Lowst to Aiten every day, and Kelanus used that as cover for passing on his own messages. But why would Lowst send Aiten messages daily and use an enemy sylph to pass them on? He and a couple of his men wrote down the words as they were reported – usually by Ean or Fhionnen – and pored over them hunting hidden meanings. So far, they had discovered nothing.

  "Why are these whistles sent to you?" he asked.

  For a moment, Aiten looked startled, but quickly recovered his composure. "Perhaps they miss me," he suggested, though his earpoints slanting forwards hinted at confusion.

  "Perhaps they do, but your owner does not march with the army."

  Aiten shrugged. "It is good to be missed though."

  Mirrin raised a smile.

  "Will you send me back?" asked the sylph.

  "No."

  Aiten gave a sylph's slow blink. "We are all Eldovans," he pointed out.

  "We are?" Mirrin shrugged. "I might send a rider across to Lowst tomorrow and negotiate an exchange."

  Again, that sylph's slow blink.

  "For Shyamon," explained Mirrin. "I'm surprised Lowst hasn't already suggested it." Another thought struck him. "Has Lowst got any musical sylphs with him?"

  Aiten nodded. "Only an infertile," he replied, his voice puzzled.

  Mirrin sniffed and returned the nod. "I promise you, I'll try and arrange an exchange, but don't get your hopes up."