The Well of Fates
CHAPTER 24
The Star
Keravel watched the ceremony in silence as everyone else did. In the darkness, every star was visible from the top of the citadel of Hurndrith where they stood. Around the circle, he could just make out the faces of the Brothers from the light in their hands. The funeral rituals always made him feel like he stood in a ring of stars, as if he had already died himself, just as they were intended to.
His own star-light did not flicker in his hands as many others did when Brother Halyar's body was raised into the night on a spire of air. He joined in the slow, deep chanting that came next and walked in time with the incantations. The two circles moved opposite directions, with Keravel himself, Rechane and Losdar in the first going to the right, and Menkar, Segarin, Carinat, and Cianfar in the second moving left. They had burned Sirean's body the night before.
The Firstborn stepped and spoke exactly in time with the others, but he was not thinking of the soul of Brother Halyar and its journey to the heavens. He was not concerned with how bright or faint it would be. Keravel was counting.
Five dead, Abelmedar and Valmeran in the Rebellions years ago, Sirean and Halyar by the Antralian boy, and Gervain at Split Creek. One unsound of mind.
He glanced across at the fevered eyes of Segarin, who had not taken Sirean's death well—they were blood-brothers. His passion may be useful, like a rabid dog can be useful against your enemies, so long as it does not bite you first.
Then there were other numbers. Four at Hurndrith who will be loyal: Rechane, Carinat , Menkar, and Losdar, one who will not be—Cianfar. Two abroad: Terlum, and Dracen. Keravel doubted Terlum would actively join a rebellion, but neither would he return after word of this great failure reached him. Dracen, though, had the steel to revolt. He had also never liked Keravel’s appointment to Firstborn. And of course, he and Monren survived Isolban together.
Keravel glanced up at the heavens. Six of us that can be counted on, if indeed Segarin can keep his wits about him. Against four, if I am truly unlucky under the stars.
He preferred more certain odds, though he did not think all five would oppose him. Only Dracen really has the nerve for it, and Monren, now that Gervaine has been killed. Cianfar has the nerve as well, but his ridiculous sense of honor will demand that he confront me—I can take care of him then. But two could be enough, with the girl. There would be no trapping her again, he knew. This time she will have to die, or she will never let me live.
Word had gone out to every city offering rewards for information and promising retribution for those who aided the Wielder or her Watcher. They may have slipped through my noose of Wind—where did the chit learn to Scatter the Winds?—but time is running out. Arith is not large enough for a pair like that to hide.
Miranya wrinkled her nose at the smell that filtered among the trees. Darin was a fool, she'd told him this wouldn't work. She waved her hand. Roots of snaked out of the dark earth, engulfing the body and burying it deep in the dirt. A finger twitched, and grass ran across the black soil, sprouting to full growth in moments.
They'd both seen something they wanted, but Darin was rash. Somehow she'd find those two again. When she did, she would be more careful. The moment she laid eyes on them she knew, even if he was calling himself something else: his name was Cade. She also knew he wasn't one of hundreds of Antralian boys that age named after the prince. He was the prince, Cade A'lan Gidedrian.
He hadn't recognized her—Miranya had changed since the fall of their homeland. Then she had been a scrawny child, dark-haired, dark-eyed like nearly every other girl in Antral, his little sister's playmate, little Mira. Her eyes were grey now, and no man would ever call her scrawny. A smile twisted her luscious, ruby-red lips.
All she had to do was find them and take care of the wench. Then Prince Cade would be hers, just like her childhood dreams.
As they had before, Cade and Elaina traveled from dawn until dusk, stopping only for a brief lunch at noon. Everything else had changed. Elaina was no longer frustrated, angry, or sharp, and Cade managed to speak to her much more like a normal traveling companion.
Each day ended with a comfortable goodnight, and each day began with Elaina's cheerful "Good morning!" while Cade made breakfast for both of them. The two weeks it took to get to Hennelea went by faster than any one hour had gone before. They began to hope they had truly escaped.
They rode to the city gates at nightfall.
"Who goes there?" a bored voice came from the guard's stand, followed by a worn and rumpled man in a chain mail tunic and half asleep.
"Travelers. We're meeting a ship here." Cade informed him. They were meeting a ship here, in that they would be getting on one, but the implication that any one ship was planning to take them on was false. The guard didn't seem interested in pursuing it.
"Names?"
"Master Dominic and Mistress Maile of Lotriel, Amanheld." Cade replied, hooking his thumbs through his belt like a weary man might.
"Do you know of any place to sell these?" he asked offhand, gesturing to the horses, "It isn't worth it to bring them aboard." Cade explained. The guard shrugged.
"Give the tracks a try. All manner of horseflesh bought and sold there, running stock or no." he offered without enthusiasm.
"I shall, and thank you for your trouble, sir." Cade said heartily, pressing a silver into the man's hand. "Come, my Lady, we'll find an inn. I'll deal with the horses on the morrow as the good man suggests." He said to Elaina, who answered faintly for the benefit of the guard.
"Oh good, my Lord. I do so need to rest, and we must find a pleasant place for the poor animals. We've become such companions, I hate to leave them." Cade nodded his approval and led her deeper into the city with the wave of the disinterested guard.
They rode past a good number of inns before stopping at one called the Three Sail Bounty, with a great carved ship hanging over the door. It was a decent place, quiet and well lit.
The stable boy came to take their animals with a smile, and the innkeeper, a somewhat dour and stringy old man, didn't try to overcharge them. That was unusual in Hennelea, where nearly everything for sale worked on a sliding scale. The finer your clothes and titles, the more everything cost you, whether it was a loaf of bread or a string of Morayen pearls.
Traveling as husband and wife, they shared a room. It was well enough that they did. Selling the horses was just barely going to cover the cost of passage to Vinyam, and the money was running low. The coin Cade brought with them in their sudden flight barely covered their stay in Beradon and the room here.
Elaina slept on the bed and Cade on the floor—though this time she insisted on giving him a pillow and the blanket to replace his saddlebags and cloak. When she suggested they alternate who got the bed each night, Cade drew the line, reminding her that she had slept on a pallet of hay while he had a proper bed during her captivity. Neither mentioned sharing the bed as they had during the blizzard.
Cade decided it was best that he go alone into the city in the morning to sell the horses and look for a ship to Vinyam. In a city so large as Hennelea, there were bound to be agents of the Drethlords.
All it took was one ashendari to catch sight of those grey eyes and match her with the description Keravel was sure to be distributing, and they were finished. Unhappy as she was to be left with the baggage in the first real city she'd ever been in, Elaina understood and resigned herself to a day of boredom. Once he was out on the street, Cade had never been so relieved that she listened.
In the city proper, there was no sign that the Drethlords were missing what they most prized. Vendors filled the streets crowded with lords and ladies in litters and on fine horses. Wagons and carriages inched through the masses, and hordes of the poorer people filled in every gap. Heading to the tracks with the horses, Cade moved through the crowd in silence and was grateful for the anonymity.
As the gate guard had said, every sort of horseflesh was for sale in the space around the racing circuit. Wandering past
broken-down nags and fine stallions, Cade approached a man with horses slightly less fine than the ones he was selling.
Tired though they were, the Drethlords did not tolerate weakness in their animals—even these wagon-horses were strong, hardy animals with good lines. The man wore the rough clothes of the country and glanced up at him with a keen eye.
"Looking to buy, or sell?" he asked in a low voice. Either by the quick glance under bushy brows or the gravelly voice, Cade was reminded of nothing so much as a Cavilnese wolf hound.
"Selling." He answered, "My wife and I are taking a ship from here, so we won't be needing them. Are you interested?" The man shrugged one shoulder and moved to the horses, clicking and making odd little noises to make their ears prick forward. With a practiced eye, he peered at their teeth, examined their hooves, and ran his hands across their chests and flanks. When finished, he straightened with a grunt.
"Good animals, and young, though they've been working hard. Could use a rest, but I imagine you know that." He said gruffly, eyeing Cade."How many did you kill, riding like that?" He asked bluntly.
"Two." Cade replied evenly. "But those are not the ones I am selling."
"No, you've given these a bit of a rest, anyway. They're awake and sound. Not quite so fast as a hull and sails though, I would bet." He noted. Cade didn't comment.
"The name's Elyot. I've got twenty marks for the both of them, and ten more for the saddles and bridals."
"You'll make more than that in a season, using them as brood mares."
"I don't deny it. But you don't have time to wait a season and breed horses, do you?" Elyot pointed out with a wry grin.
"It's a fair price. Be good to them, they've had it hard with us." Cade said in agreement, handing over the reins with a pat to the bay's cheek. The mare's dark eyes considered him thoughtfully.
"Aye, they have. And not likely any better from whoever you stole them from." Elyot said dryly. Cade looked up and rested one hand on the hilt of the black sword at his waist. Elyot spread his hands.
"No need for that frog-sticker." He said, "I can see you know how to use it, and it’s not my business anyway. I warrant you had reason." Elyot said with a shrug.
"True. Theirs are not the hides our owners would be most happy to reclaim." Cade agreed darkly.
"So it's not just the horses that have had a bad way of it." Elyot said, "and that's something I can understand. Seeing the way men treat such smart and lovely beasts," he ran one hand down the mare's nose, "that are happy to help you. It is no surprise they'd treat a man as badly, or a woman."
Cade said nothing. A man who did to a horse what Keravel did to Elaina would be run out of any town in Arith for his cruelty. A man who did it to a dog would have, for that, or even a rat. Nodding to himself, Elyot counted out thirty gold marks into a leather pouch and tossed it to Cade.
"Thirty, as promised. Enjoy your sailing." Cade nodded and turned away to lose himself in the chaos around the race track. He tensed when Elyot grabbed his arm.
"In case you find it hard to gain passage," the man growled in his ear, "try the Wave People. They care less for the rules of the land, if you know my meaning." Cade nodded again. With a last significant look, Elyot settled back to tying his new horses to his line.
Drifting into the crowd, Cade made his way north through the city to the port. With thirty marks, he was confident he could find a ship that would take them to Vinyam. He was certain they could be out of Hennelea before nightfall. Then he reached the docks.