Page 26 of The Well of Fates

CHAPTER 25

  The People

  Cade knew at once they would never get a ship to Vinyam. Suddenly, it was all he could hope for that he'd get back to the inn and get Elaina out of the city before dawn. The crowd was no thinner, though it was certainly louder and dirtier than before, but Cade felt like every eye was on him.

  His face was plastered over every spare surface, and beside it was Elaina's. Beneath the faces the papers declared in bold letters:

  REWARD

  10,000 HURNDRITH MARKS

  for those who return these

  FUGITIVES to the BRETHREN.

  Extremely DANGEROUS.

  Wanted ALIVE.

  Cade sauntered as casually as he could to a shadowed doorway, stripping one of the papers from the wall as he went. In his dark alcove, he studied it.

  Ten thousand gold marks of the heaviest weight. That was a King's ransom, he knew. A death warrant. There wasn't a single person in Hennelea that would pass a chance to earn that sum. True spirits! How did I think we might escape the Drethlords? They have the money, the men, and the endless energy to pursue what they want. All we have is a single man's sword and a single caster's webs.

  Two against the whole world, it seemed. With a long look across the forest of masts of the ships they would never get on, Cade spotted the tall, narrow spires of a ship of the Seviade Cotar, the People of the Waves. As little as they cared for the troubles of the shores they visited, there was no way the consummate merchants would trade a year's worth of profits and the favor of Hurndrith for fifteen marks a head and a trip to across the Yaltiran.

  He leaned farther into the shadows as two men walked by in the uniform of harbor officials. All ships coming into or leaving the harbor were required to have one aboard, ostensibly to prevent collisions and check for smuggled goods, but everyone knew they got a cut of the smuggler's profits. That was just Hennelea's way of taxing the black market.

  "They stopped the ship at the mouth of the harbor and searched the blasted thing from bilge to sails!"

  "Did they find the false floor?"

  "Yes! The caster found it, cool as ice with those unnatural eyes, and the others pried the whole thing up. I was sweating like a bluefin on hot sand, I tell you."

  "They took it all, didn't they!" the other man wailed, "All that I paid to get you this job gone for naught!" Cade shook his head in the shadows. That’s Hennelea to the core: bribery to get a job that involved officially extorting smugglers. No wonder Hurndrith was stepping in.

  "They didn't!" The first man exclaimed. Cade's eyes narrowed and he slipped out of his hiding place to follow the men through the crowd.

  "What?"

  "I don't know why, but they sent us along as if they'd not seen a half a hold of smuggled goods. And I've heard the same thing from Iago's men." They shook their heads and muttered.

  "I wonder what they're looking for . . .”

  Cade side-stepped into an alleyway and began to jog, twisting and turning through the back streets to the inn. He knew exactly what the agents were looking for.

  Elaina had just finished mending the holes in her stockings when Cade slipped back into their room. The leather purse he tossed on the table landed heavily with the clink of coins.

  "You sold the horses?"

  "Yes. A fair price."

  "And a ship?"

  "There are no ships for us, Elaina." Cade said with a sigh.

  "No ships!" she cried, bewildered, "I thought this was one of the great ports!"

  "It is. There are plenty of ships in the harbor, but none that will take us."

  "You can't possibly mean that. Surely one of them—" she cut off when he tossed the crumpled paper in her lap. "Ten thousand!" she breathed, eyes drawn to the large letters below their pictures. "You could buy the whole of Tar Haviel with that!"

  "You could buy half of Hennelea," Cade corrected, "and they have. Half this city would sell their own mothers for a sum like that." He said, settling onto a stool beside the table with a tired slump to his shoulders. "If they have these at the gates, I've no idea how we'll ever get out. If they have ashendari watching, we never will, even if you can hide your face from everyone else."

  "There isn't anyone who would take us?" she asked dejectedly.

  "The Seviade Cotar might. The People of the Waves are hard to predict. If the reward went against their idea of honor or if they took a liking to us they might help, but we can't even get to their ship without being noticed—especially you. A woman stands out at the docks like a black leopard among tancats, and once they're looking you'll be recognized." He tipped his head back, eyes closed.

  "If we could get aboard, is it worth the risk? What if they prefer the reward?" Elaina asked.

  "They may not—they always liked Antralians. We could swim to shore if we had to, I suppose." Cade mused.

  "I could cast." She amended.

  "But we can't get aboard." Cade pointed out.

  "Because a woman would stand out." Elaina repeated, and Cade nodded the affirmative. "Well, then I won't be a woman." She declared. He opened one eye to observe her doubtfully.

  "Too risky. An ashendari could see right through Illusion, and we wouldn't even know until they had you."

  "I wasn't going to use Illusion." Elaina explained, "I'll hide my hair under a hat, rub dirt on my face, dress like the boys that roam around the docks. No one minds them—I'll be invisible."

  Cade opened his eyes, considering for a brief moment. His gaze raked over her once, and she blushed. As always. Men in Amanheld must have a devil of a time if all the women blush as soon as you look at them.

  "No." he decided at last. "I heard that agents are tearing the ships leaving the harbor apart, and they're not after smuggled goods." He could see that she understood.

  "Oh." Elaina frowned, staring at the floorboards in thought.

  "A letter then? Could we send a letter to Vinyam telling them to meet us elsewhere?" Cade looked at her thoughtfully. That isn’t a terrible idea.

  "There'd be the risk of ambush if it fell into the wrong hands." He mused.

  "Then we meet somewhere the enemy can't blend in. Someplace remote, deserted. If they're enemies, we'll know soon enough to get away." Elaina reasoned. Cade nodded slowly. That just might work. Meet the Brethren at an abandoned port—plenty of time to see them coming—I could see through any webs set to deceive us . . .

  "Antral." He said decisively. "The Drethlords have no friends there, and we can wait at one of the old port cities—no chance of missing each other. It would take us about as long to get there as to get a message to Vinyam and have them meet us." Elaina grinned.

  "So we ask the People of the Waves to take the letter, which will get past the agents at the harbor mouth, and we sneak out of the city and wait in Antral."

  "It might work." Cade admitted, "Though we'd still have to get out of the city, that's easier than on a ship with agents around. I'll sent one of the stable boys to get some urchin's clothes for you, and get some parchment from the innkeeper. We'll write the letter, and go to the docks tonight."

  "I can come too?" Elaina asked in surprise.

  "You might help. The People of the Waves might be friendlier to a caster, and if not . . .” he paused at the door. "If not, then I'd rather we tried our escape together. Watchers and Wielders should work together." He declared, then slipped out the door.

  He felt the danger of their plan hum in his blood. It was the best way he could think of, but every second in Hennelea felt like another step towards the headsman or worse. Elaina was handling it beautifully, though. Sneaking out in a city full of agents and bounty hunters to convince the Seviade Cotar to deliver a forbidden letter seemed to have awakened her sense of adventure. Truth bless her, she’s recovering better than I ever would have expected. Poor girl has probably had far more adventure than she ever wanted.

  Pausing at the door of the inn as if he were fixing his boot, Cade glanced around the street before he stepped out among the people. There
was no one particularly suspicious, no one even gave him a second glance. He made his gait awkward and tried to relax the severity of his expression to look more like a minor lord from the edges of the city than a highly dangerous fugitive. He ducked into the first bookstore he could find.

  Bookstores always had parchment, quills, and ink in addition to any volumes they’d invested in. Books were expensive and the market for them limited, so booksellers kept a constant stream of little business coming through their shops by selling similar odds and ends. Although it was tempting to go read the titles on the shelves in the back, Cade kept his focus on the front of the store, gathering simple parchment, a single quill, the smallest bottle of ink, and a stick of black sealing wax, which was the cheapest.

  He kept his head down as he paid, and he was back in the inn with Elaina in a matter of minutes. Setting it all on the table, he hesitated,

  "My handwriting is distinctive." He said at last, "It would be better if you could write the letter?" He didn’t want to ask her outright if she was literate—it would embarrass her if she wasn’t. She only smiled at his half-question and picked up the quill.

  "Very well." Elaina said, trimming the nib quickly. "What shall I say?"

  Relieved, Cade began to dictate, "'To our loyal brothers,' not capitalized. They'll know which brothers we mean and there's no need to spell it out for prying eyes." he explained.

  "Then, 'We are disappointed by Hennelea, and cannot find a ship suitable for our journey.'" Elaina shook her head as she wrote. The truth we are telling is certainly misleading. Cade went on,"'If you wish to meet us still, please send a ship to the old southern port—the jewel of my homeland.' Sign it, 'With our hopes.'"

  "That's it?" Elaina asked. "You didn't tell them where to go! How will they even know it's us and not the Drethlords trying to trick them?" Cade fished a chain out of his shirt and held up a large silver ring.

  "Monren knows my seal. It won’t be in blue wax, but he'll know it’s from me. And they will sail to Ashira, where we'll meet them."

  "Ashira?"

  "Of the three cities in the cliffs, Ashira is the closest," Cade explained, "That was where we spent all our summers, my mother and the three of us. My father joined us when he could." He mused thoughtfully, "How many perfect days we spent there." Elaina still frowned.

  "I didn't write anything about a place called Ashira," she reminded him.

  "You did. Ashira was called the jewel, and they'll know it is Antral we mean and not Amanheld because of the 'southern.'" He assured her, taking up the paper and blowing on it to dry the ink.

  "You have a good hand." Cade said, reading over it. He’d seen clerks with poorer handwriting. Hers was simple, but elegant, and obviously female. If it did get intercepted, perhaps that would help disguise the seal’s origin. Elaina smiled at his compliment. She truly has a catching smile—warm and real.

  "My uncle taught me. I suppose he knew I would need it, even if I didn't at the time."

  "He was a caster as well?" Cade asked, looking at the letter. She never speaks of her family. Then again, we seldom speak of mine, and she knew Corin.

  "A Guardian, yes. My parents, myself, and my father's brother are the only ones I know of who lived more than a few years after the Invasion." She said, heating the stick of sealing wax over the lamp on the table. Truth, but that is even worse than Antral—four survivors, out of how many?

  Elaine rotated the stick of wax over the flame until it was ready. She let it drip over the folded edge of the paper. Cade reached forward and pressed his seal into the hot black wax. In black it looked sinister, a single curling wave in an oval.

  "This is different from Corin's?" she pressed, "They will not fear a trap?"

  "His ring was the opposite of mine." Cade explained, "the wave turns the other way. Mine is intended to face west in the wax, because I was Prince of the Morayan Isles. My brother was Prince of Doran, the plateau that rises in the east, so his went that way."

  "Will Monren know this? Will he remember?"

  "He commented on it once, that mine went left and I am the right-hand sword—the a'lan. I doubt he forgets anything." Cade said without expression, staring at his ring before he dropped it on its chain and tucked it back under his shirt. Corin. Who is Prince of Doran, now? What is the West without the East to balance it, what is the right hand without the left?

  "The right-handed sword? What does that mean?" Elaina asked, confused.

  Cade went to his bags and pulled out the rolled up cloak that held his Antralian swords. He hadn’t been wearing them since they fled, lest it draw attention.

  "In Antral, we fought with two swords, one in each hand. The one for the right is called the a'lan,” he picked them up to show her, “and the one for the left, the e'dan. My mother named us after them because we looked so alike it was difficult to tell us apart, like the swords." Elaina nodded, but ask more about his family. Families are a touchy subject when they’ve been murdered.

  A knock at the door broke the stillness, and Cade tossed the coat back over the swords before he answered it. One of the stable boys stood there, pile of grubby clothes in his hands. Cade handed him a few coins and shut the door.

  "Your costume," he said, holding out the ragged heap. Elaina grimaced.

  "Well, I will certainly smell enough for the task." She said, taking them from him with two fingers and a doubtful look. Cade hoped she knew a web to drive out vermin. As if she’d read his mind, there was a flash of heat around the clothes.

  “There. That should take care of any little livestock the previous owner may have kept.” She said, shaking out the rags. Cade glanced at the pillow and blanket he had used, folded neatly on the foot of the bed. I do hope—

  Elaina followed his gaze, “I did those last night,” she assured him, “Don’t worry. I clean the water, too. And check everything for poison. We should be alright.” Cade blinked.

  He didn’t know she’d been doing all that. It was sweet somehow, that she’d been looking out for both of them that way without saying anything. I ought to have guessed traveling with a Creator would be different.

  "Turn around, would you?” she asked, “I want to make sure these things fit."

  Cade obliged. There was a short struggle and the sound of fabric rustling, then there was a long pause. Just when he was about to ask if he might turn back around, she spoke again.

  "Don’t look, but I don't think this is going to work."

  Facing the far wall, Cade crossed his arms. "Why not? If you’re worried about the way you look, it is only—“

  "Ever worn a camisole under your trousers?" she interrupted bluntly. Oh.

  "I confess I never have." He replied, struggling not to laugh at the picture in his head. "What will you do?"

  The sound of dressing went on, then the whist of her retying bodice strings. Cade fought the sudden urge to turn around. Steady, what’s that you’re thinking? He asked himself with a frown. Her voice made him jump.

  "There's a store down the street with fabric on display, I saw it coming in. I'll be right back—you can watch from the window." She said, snagging the purse from the table as she left. Before he could protest, Elaina was gone. Shaking his head both at her and at himself, Cade followed her out. He would loiter by the stables. If something happened, the window was too far to help.

  As promised, it didn't take her long. An hour later she was finished cutting out a pair of soft cotton trousers to wear underneath the street urchin's. While she sewed, Cade lounged by the fire watching her work. She'd never win prizes for her needlework, but he'd seen worse. At least she was quick about it.

  By the time dusk fell over the city, Elaina was winding her hair up on her head and squashing the hat over it. She took a half-burned stick from the fireplace and smudged her hands and face with it, then rubbed it around with her sleeves and collar and wiped her hands on her trousers. Thoroughly filthy, she turned to Cade with her hands out.

  "You're a perfect disast
er," he said in answer to her unspoken question, "Let's go."

  Elaina snuck out first through the back courtyard, slipping into an alley to wait for Cade. Dressed in his usual black, Cade followed.

  As night darkened, the streets emptied. Instead of being concerned with the cutpurses and vagabonds that were the only other persons in the alleys, Cade was grateful their reputation kept most of the city indoors or on well-lit streets. After all, who would try to rob a vagabond and dock rat in the dim alleyways? And if anyone tried that, who would succeed in robbing a Guardian and a Watcher?

  A few times the narrow alleys turned the wrong way, or came to abrupt dead-ends, and they had to go back. Elaina found the darkness didn’t bother her with Cade beside her. In fact, it seemed positively friendly. She shied away from the bright rectangles that windows cast on the street.

  It took two hours before they were crouched at the shadowed opening across the wide dock area from the ship of the Seviade Cotar, proclaimed the Sea Hawk by the large white letters on the stern.

  "You go first," Cade instructed, "meander about like you’re looking for dropped coins or the like. Wait for me by that pile of crates at the bottom of the ramp—I don't want you to go up there alone."

  Nodding, Elaina straightened and slunk out of the alley, stopping here and there to paw through the jumbles of trash and junk. No one will even look at me. I’m not a woman, I’m a filthy urchin picking through garbage. No one will even look. It was a speech to herself as well as a prayer to the true spirits. No one will even look.

  She was right. A few dock guards strode past, and a harried figure strode quickly under the inadequate light of the dock lamps, but no one spared a glance for the urchin.

  When it was clear, Cade strode out of the alley and straight up the ramp of the Wave People's ship. Elaina rose from beside the heap of broken and rotting crates to follow him. At the top of the ramp, a man rose up to block their way aboard. He was clad in only baggy white trousers, gathered at the knee.

  "You may not board." He said gravely, arms crossed across his bare chest. Elaina felt exceedingly exposed, teetering on the ramp above the dark water. Now that seemed threatening.

  "We seek to negotiate the price of passage." Cade replied.

  "This is a ship of trade, not of passengers—there are no cabins. Seek elsewhere."

  "We seek passage for this." Cade answered, holding up the letter. Frowning, the man uncrossed his arms and reached out to take it. He examined the seal.

  "This is yours?" he asked Cade, peering into his face. In reply, Cade pulled the chain from his shirt to show the ring. Frowning, the man returned the letter.

  "I will take your request to the Sailmaster. You may board." He said, stepping back from their path and leaving them alone on the deck. The guard retuned shortly with another man in similar dress, only he wore wide bands of gold above each elbow. It drew attention to the bulging muscles.

  With them came a woman whose appearance made Elaina's eyes widen. She wore trousers like the men, gathered at the ankle, but they were brilliantly red even in the dim light. A ruby would have been jealous. Her top was just as vibrantly yellow, but that wasn't its most startling feature. Instead of sleeves, it had broad straps that looped around her tanned arms just off the crest of her shoulder. If that wasn't scandalous enough, it ended well short of her naval, which had a strange tattoo around it. Her only jewelry was a pair of matching golden bracelets two fingers thick, one on each wrist.

  The outfit was exotic enough to attract the attention of anyone nearby, but if it had been a burlap sack, the way she moved would have drawn every eye. The woman strolled across the deck with the graceful sway of someone used to adjusting to a rocking ship, and there was simply no way to avoid noticing the curves that only bare skin covered.

  Elaina shot a glance at Cade, who appeared unmoved. She wasn't buying it. Anyone would have noticed that woman, even an Antralian Watcher. A half-dead blind man would have noticed.

  "Welcome to our decks," the second man with the massive arms greeted them. "I am Sailmaster Hamal, and this is my Starmistress Hatysa. You have met Sailman Izar."

  Cade bowed slightly, touching his fingers to his forehead. Elaina imitated him.

  "You seek to send a letter, Cade A'lan Gidedrian?" The Sailmaster asked.

  "Yes," He answered. Elaina would have asked why they knew his seal, but she was too preoccupied watching the Starmistress' peculiar behavior. Hatysa stood with her head tipped back to stare at the sky. For a moment, she watched the heavens with wide eyes. When she looked down again her smile was broad, on the verge of breaking into laughter.

  "Welcome to our decks, those who come with the stars. The Wave Star passes between the Undying Lights—it is a night of prophecy and prophecy fulfilled." Hatysa said. Hamal glanced at her in surprise.

  "Do the prophesies mention carrying a letter?" Elaina began impatiently. All eyes turned to her save Cade's, who flinched. She wasn't supposed to speak—her voice was hardly masculine. After a moment's inspection of her disguise, Sailman Izar reached out and swiped the hat from her head.

  "You are not the boy you seem," Hamal offered dryly as her hair tumbled down in honey-brown waves. Elaina blushed. "Why keep such beauty hidden, Gidedrian?" he asked. Cade did not have time to answer before Hatysa cut in with quick words and a fervent tone, eyes locked on Elaina.

  "We will do as you ask and sail where you steer. What is our cargo and our bearing? Speak and we will listen." Cade's eyes flickered up to the heavens for an instant as if he could read whatever it was that the woman saw there. Then he glanced over to Elaina, evidently uncertain.

  The two other men gaped at the Starmistress. Since nobody else made a sound, and Hatysa was waiting, Elaina went ahead and answered.

  "We wish a letter taken to a man called Monren, who awaits us at Vinyam."

  "I have beheld the Star at the Dawn, and we obey." Hatysa replied, still beaming. Touching her forehead with her fingertips, she took the letter.

  "There are inspectors at the mouth of the harbor—they would be happy to find this." Cade warned.

  "We have seen them," the Sailmaster said, just as Hatysa promised,

  "We will evade them." Hamal turned to her slowly.

  "Starmistress," he began in a tightly constrained voice. "Do you think to become the first Sailmaster who wore bracelets instead of bands?" He asked, fingering the gold ones on his arms pointedly.

  "I invoke the right to follow the stars, Sailmaster. It is yours to obey, salt of my heart." Hatysa replied quietly. The Sailmaster gave her a long, searching look, then squinted at the heavens. Baffled, Elaina searched their faces, trying to decide if they’d all gone mad.

  "So the stars speak tonight," he resigned himself to his orders, "we must follow. We sail to Vinyam, and your letter remains unread until it arrives in the hands of Monren, on my sails." He promised.

  "We thank you," Cade said cautiously.

  "It is we who are thankful, our honor to serve," Hatysa rejoined, touching her forehead again with a smile. "You will leave the city?"

  "Tonight, yes." Cade agreed tersely. The Sailmaster and Starmistress nodded. Bowing again, they returned the way they had come, silhouettes swaying with the gentle rock of the ship.

  "I have seen your faces before this night, I think." Sailman Izar said, leaning down to pick up a loose rope. "So I think that perhaps many in the city have seen the same. Even the guards at the gates.” Cade didn't interrupt, and Izar went on, winding a rope into a coil around his arm.

  "There is a strange thing I have seen from the decks," he continued, nodding toward the city. "The houses on the south edge, they are built right into the wall. The roofs come almost to the battlements," He noted.

  "Thank you," Elaina said. They seemed sincere, even if they were out of their minds. Perhaps this is normal among the Seviade?

  "The Starmistress wishes to help you," he said with a shrug, "so I do as well." He thrust the coil of rope at them. "Take this
and use it well. The guards walk the walls only once in the hour." Cade took it with a nod.

  "The inspectors of the port have just passed us. Go, and the stars guide you on your journey."

  Cade touched his forehead, and replied, "May they shine on the waves for you and yours." Then, taking Elaina's hand, he pulled her down the ramp and back into the deep shadows of Hennelea

 
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