Page 29 of Empire of Night


  "I met the little prince when he was training under Lord Okami," Sabre said. "And when he was half a head shorter than me."

  "Which I no longer am," Tyrus said. "So you can stop calling me that."

  "At least I still call you prince, which is more than most would." When he opened his mouth, she said, "You don't need to defend yourself to me. I know you wouldn't run from battle. You trained too long under Dalain, and you're as stupidly honor bound as he. You'd both stand in the face of a charging army rather than give ground." She rolled her eyes at Moria. "Warriors."

  "Despite your insult," Tyrus said, "I appreciate that you didn't doubt my bravery."

  "More stupidity than bravery. I will admit I was somewhat swayed by the rumor that you'd been tricked by a girl. But I see now I was mistaken, and I congratulate you on how much your taste has improved. I'll wager this one doesn't call you to slay mice in her quarters."

  Sabre looked at Moria. "Some distant relative of Lord Okami brought his daughter once--the most vacant-headed, timid child you could imagine, though she knew how to catch a boy's attention. She'd run from her quarters shrieking of mice and insist the valiant prince slay them for her. Which Tyrus fell for. Repeatedly. But she was terribly pretty."

  "Did your father send you to interrupt our travels, Sabre?" one of Lord Okami's men called as they arrived.

  "Her father is the local bandit leader," Tyrus said to Moria.

  Sabre bristled. "My father is a nomadic tribal chieftain--"

  "--who accepts generous offerings from travelers for safe passage through these treacherous hills." Tyrus leaned toward Moria. "He's a bandit. A powerful one, though."

  "I believe I've heard the exact same said about your father."

  "Sabre . . ." a voice called as a rider rode up. "Waylaying my guests on the roadside?"

  The newcomer was a young man, perhaps twenty summers of age. Tall and well-formed, with gray eyes and unruly black hair. On his arms, Moria could see the tattoos of the Okami clan: dark wolves with yellow eyes.

  "Tyrus." He slid from his horse and thumped the prince on the back. "It is good to see you safe." He bowed to Moria. "Dalain Okami, my lady. Son of Lord Okami."

  "Youngest son," Sabre cut in, with a tone that said that barely qualified him for kinship at all.

  He shook his head. "As soon as I heard the sounds of trouble, I knew who it was. Now, off with you, Sabre. You've delayed my guests quite enough."

  The young woman's eyes flashed. "I was not bothering your guests, Dalain. I was helping them." She turned her attention and her words to Moria. "I spotted your party when you rode through the valley. Then I realized that I wasn't the only one who had noticed you."

  "Bandits, I presume?" Dalain said.

  She gave him a withering look. "Go hunt something, Dalain. The pursuit suits you much better than thinking."

  "Actually, I was hunting something. Or someone. And it's rather urgent, so if you could be quicker with this story, that would be appreciated."

  She scowled at him, then turned to Moria again. "There were three riders following you. They were dressed as simple travelers, but I could see blades under their cloaks, and while their steeds were not fine, the men rode exceedingly well. I tried to get closer, but when you paused at a stream, they went on ahead. That's when I noticed that Tyrus was with you, which meant this was no hostage situation. I was getting closer to warn him when you caught me."

  "She caught you?" Dalain said. "Truly?"

  "I admitted it, didn't I? The Keeper of Edgewood is very skilled with her blade and her wildcat, and I am not so arrogant that I can't admit defeat."

  "I wouldn't say it's lack of arrogance so much as vast experience with defeat."

  Dalain was teasing Sabre, but the young woman only seemed to grow more irritated. Moria heard Ashyn's voice whispering in her ear: Because he's treating her as a child, and she does not wish him to see her as a child.

  Perhaps. It was none of Moria's concern right now. Her sister's voice, however, was a concern--a reminder.

  "The three riders," she said. "Were they clearly men? My sister is supposed to come this way. She'll be accompanied by a young man and a young woman. They may have been following us trying to determine if we were in your men's custody or not before they approached."

  "It is . . . possible," Dalain said.

  "He'll not answer straight," Sabre said. "So I will. That's who he was hunting: your sister. She was here, and Dalain frightened her off, and now she's lost."

  "Lost?" Moria said, her voice sharp with alarm.

  Dalain shot a glare at Sabre, then turned to Moria. "I'm sorry, my lady. Some of our locals are more plainspoken--and less considerate--than they ought to be. Yes, I did speak to your sister. While I will not say that I 'frightened her off,' she was understandably cautious, given the circumstances, and I may have underestimated the degree of her caution."

  Sabre snorted. "May have? You can pull on pretty manners for the Keeper, Dalain, but I'm not the only local given to plain and ill-considered speeches."

  "Ashyn didn't trust you so she ran," Tyrus said. "Which is why I told you not to approach her until I returned." He held up a hand against Dalain's protest. "Yes, I know you meant well. But it's not the Seeker you needed worry about as much as her escort. Ronan would never have let her go with you until I was there to say all was well. What happened then?"

  "She ran with the boy and her hound. They disappeared into the woods, and it seemed wise to bring our own hounds to track them."

  "Which would have put them perfectly at ease," Sabre murmured.

  Dalain ignored her. "One of my men spotted her outside the inn last evening. There was a . . . commotion. I feared she would not fare well in these woods, and I thought I could convince her to come with me. I was mistaken. But I will find her. My men are out there now, with the best hunting hounds in the empire."

  "Then I'll go with them," Moria said.

  She turned toward her horse. Dalain stepped in her path, but Tyrus cleared his throat and steered Moria aside.

  "You'll not stop me from finding my sister," she said.

  "I wouldn't dare. But may I suggest we get you to the compound for a change of clothing? We'll pack food and water and set out for a proper search."

  "While I appreciate the Keeper's concern," Dalain began, "I think this is best handled by hounds and men who know the terrain--"

  "I know the terrain," Tyrus cut in. "And Moria knows her sister, as does Daigo. I appreciate your concern, Dalain, but once we've partaken of your father's hospitality, we will hunt for Ashyn and her escort. If you wish to join us, you are most welcome, but I would prefer you did not search on your own, as it is likely to drive them deeper into the wilderness."

  Tyrus's words came softly, but his tone left no room for debate. It reminded Dalain that, while Tyrus was still several summers younger, he was no longer a boy under the Okamis' tutelage. He was an imperial prince.

  Sabre smirked and opened her mouth to say something, almost certainly an insult. Before she could speak, Tyrus cut her off.

  "Sabre? I don't know what the situation is--how many realize that the Seeker is in these woods. I hope the answer is 'very few,' and that it remains that way, but I know your father is loyal to Lord Okami, so I trust he will let us know if he spots Ashyn or her escort, and that no attempt will be made to communicate with them directly."

  "Yes, your highness." There was a lilt to the title--more teasing than mockery--and she said, "You've grown into that ink on your arms, little dragon. There will be many here who'll be pleased to see it. My father, for one. He has hopes for you, despite your insistence on ducking attention."

  "Which has not changed at all," Tyrus said. "I'll be quite happy if I can return to pursuing the life of a warrior, not a prince in exile."

  "Rebel prince. That has a better ring, don't you think?"

  "No, thank you. Now, if you can speak to your father, I need to get to Lord Okami's compound. Moria is eyeing her horse
and wondering how badly she needs my help with the search. I'll take my leave before I'm abandoned by the roadside."

  FIFTY-THREE

  "She's out there and she's safe," Tyrus whispered as they rode. "Ashyn is smart, Tova is loyal, and Ronan is capable. I'm sorry this happened--"

  "It had nothing to do with you." Moria shot a look at Dalain, riding at the front of the group.

  "Don't be too hard on him," Tyrus said, lowering his voice further. "He truly thought he was helping. But he was correct when he said that the people of this land are forthright. They do not always pause to consider their actions, and they are ill accustomed to subtlety and subterfuge." He smiled her way. "Perhaps you can sympathize a little?"

  He was right, of course, but she was in no mood to acknowledge it. Since meeting Sabre, she felt unsettled and out of her depth, an outsider here, as if she were back in court. Now, discovering Ashyn had been here only increased both her worry and her sense of alienation.

  I want my family. I want my home. I want a place that's familiar and mine. And I'll never have them again.

  Daigo growled softly, sensing her change of mood. He rubbed against her foot, and she longed to climb off the horse and walk beside him, to have at least that comfort.

  Everything has changed, and it'll never be the same again.

  "Moria?"

  Tyrus moved his horse closer, until their legs brushed, and she could feel his gaze on her, troubled.

  "We'll find Ashyn," he said.

  "I know."

  They continued riding. When she kept her gaze forward, he whispered, "Is it something more?"

  She shook her head.

  "Let me rephrase that," he said. "I can tell there's something more. Is it Dalain? Sabre?" He paused. "No, it's everything. This place, these people . . . Normally, you'd barrel in and make yourself at home, but you've spent nearly a fortnight in captivity, had a harrowing escape, and now you find yourself in another strange place, surrounded by other strange people, and your sister is not waiting. You want to tell me to go on ahead, partake of the lord's hospitality, and leave you to hunt for Ashyn with Daigo."

  When she glanced over, he said, "Am I close?"

  "If you were any closer, I'd accuse you of being able to read minds."

  He smiled. "No, I'm just good at reading you." He glanced forward at Dalain, then back to her. "If that is what you truly want, Moria, I'll only ask that you take a couple of his men until I can join you. Sabre's talk of someone following us concerns me. I'd set out with you now and send others to fetch clothing and supplies--"

  "But that would be rude. You must pay your respects to Lord Okami before presuming on his hospitality and tramping through his lands. My manners may need polish, but I understand what I do not practice."

  "I know you do. So is that what you'd like? Take two of the lord's men and set out?"

  It was exactly what she wanted. But it also was impulsive and immature. More important, Tyrus had an imperial bounty on his head and Okami was an imperial warlord. After spending almost a fortnight thinking Tyrus was dead, she was not letting him set foot past those compound walls alone.

  "I want to search for Ashyn as soon as we can," she said. "But I'll not leave your side to do it."

  His smile seemed almost shy, certainly pleased. "Thank you. I'll keep the hospitalities brief, and we'll find Ashyn before sundown."

  They took a path to the compound through the forested foothills, avoiding the road and the inn. Dalain led them around to a secondary entrance. As Moria's mood lifted, the young lord fell back to ride with them. His people might be rough, but Dalain seemed to sense that she'd not wanted his company earlier and had left her alone. Now, as they rode together, he avoided talk of the situation, instead regaling Moria with humorous and affectionate tales of Tyrus's time with them.

  "How long ago did you last see each other?" she asked as the compound walls came into view.

  "Too long," Dalain said. "Almost two summers now. He seemed happy enough in these hills, but apparently, the court holds more attractions."

  "More pretty girls?" she said with a sly smile.

  Dalain laughed. "Oh, I suspect so, though he'd hardly dare admit it in front of you, my lady."

  "Actually, I would," Tyrus said. "Moria finds my past dalliances very amusing."

  "Not amusing so much as understandable," Moria said. "Even desirable, given that it implies practice, and practice improves skill."

  Dalain laughed louder now. "Very true, my lady. I like the way you think."

  "Just don't like it too well," Tyrus said.

  "I won't. I can tell that would land me on the wrong end of your blade, and I've heard you've much improved since you trained under me. Of course, it would have been difficult to do worse."

  "True, which is the real reason I stay in court. It's the only place I can find adequate trainers. Out here in the wilds . . ." Tyrus shrugged. "I'll admit you're quite skilled . . . when your opponent has tusks and bristles."

  "I'll wager our boars are tougher than any of your court warriors."

  "You wouldn't know, since you've never actually been to court. Despite several personal invitations from your former apprentice."

  Dalain nodded. "We're both to blame for the length of the separation. It won't happen again. Which is not a promise that you'll ever see me in court, but perhaps I can send some of Sabre's father's men to abduct you and bring you here more often. Now, the rear gates beckon, and I'll suggest we slip in quietly, speak to my father quickly, and be on our way, before my mother discovers you've arrived and insists you take tea."

  FIFTY-FOUR

  A warlord's compound was not dissimilar to Alvar Kitsune's camp. It was like a small village, comprised of homes for the lord and his extended family, plus barracks for his warriors and various other buildings for storage and service--armory, kitchens, blacksmith, stables, and so forth.

  The fence that surrounded it was meant to act more as a boundary than a barrier. There would be a main gate with towers and warrior guards, but in a region like this, that was mostly for show. No one waged war on the Gray Wolf. His reputation was too fearsome and--equally important--his lands were both strategically and productively worthless, unless the empire suffered a sudden shortage of wood and boar meat.

  The rear gate was manned only by a single guard, who didn't even have a tower to stand watch on. There was little need. The gate faced the forest, and the only people who used it were Okami's men, coming back from the hunt and not inclined to ride all the way around to the front.

  The gate itself was simply a double door. The men had ridden around to the front, leaving only Dalain, Tyrus, and Moria to slip through this way. Dalain unfastened the gate as the other two climbed off their steeds. One didn't ride into a warlord's compound. That would be as rude as walking into his home wearing shoes.

  As they led the horses through, Tyrus and Dalain told Moria what to expect--how many men they had, what services were offered in the compound, which members of the lord's family were at home. Her nerves were eased best with information rather than empty reassurances. Tyrus understood that, and Dalain was astute enough to follow his lead.

  "You will eventually have to meet my mother," Dalain said. "I apologize in advance."

  "He's joking," Tyrus said.

  "Not entirely," Dalain murmured.

  "Lady Okami is court-born," Tyrus explained. "She has devoted herself to bringing a touch of civility to these hills, but she is . . . not exactly a timid court lady."

  "Tyrus is being civil himself. Possibly because my mother is of his clan. First cousin to the emperor. Even my father ducks when she starts breathing fire."

  "They adore her," Tyrus said.

  "We have to. She'd devour us otherwise. My mother--"

  "My lord!" The warrior guarding the gate had, apparently, not been guarding it too closely. The young man hurried over from wherever he'd been. "Wh-what are you doing here?"

  "I live here," Dalain said. "We're only s
topping in briefly to let my father know Tyrus and the Keeper have arrived, then we'll head out again. I trust you'll hold our steeds?"

  "Th-they said you were coming in the front. The scouts saw your search party."

  "We are not with the search party because we are in a hurry and avoiding my mother. Now, hold these--"

  "You ought to go around the front, my lord. Your father awaits you there."

  Dalain's gray eyes narrowed. "You interrupt me to say I'm not allowed in this gate? I know we are not quite as rule bound as other clans, but I would suggest a little more respect, boy, at least in the company of guests."

  As the young guard stammered, Moria glanced at Tyrus and saw that his hand was already on the pommel of his sword. Daigo backed into Moria's legs and peered about, his tail swishing.

  "While the boy's tone was disrespectful," Tyrus said slowly, "perhaps we ought to retreat and go around the front, Dalain."

  "Certainly not. Whatever foolishness--"

  "Dalain!" a voice boomed. "Bringing our guests in the back door? Hasn't your mother taught you better than that?"

  A figure rounded one of the buildings. It was a big man, tall and broad-shouldered, wearing a fur cloak that Moria recognized as a wolf hide. His long hair was completely gray, though he couldn't be out of his fourth decade. His hair had been turning that color since he was little more than a boy--hence the name the Gray Wolf. As for why it started graying early, there were many stories, and Moria knew them all. Most were tales of encounters with horrific monsters that Okami had miraculously survived, the experience so terrifying his hair turned even as his blade stayed true and strong. Ashyn said it was simply because his family always grayed early, Goro Okami just more than most. Ashyn had no imagination.

  As Moria watched the big warlord approach, she could believe the tales more than she could any scientific explanation. She'd sooner take her chances with another fiend dog than face Goro Okami in combat. He was grinning now, his arms open in welcome, which only made him look more like a wolf, fangs bared as he swooped down for the slaughter.

  "Tyrus, good to see you back. You're staying more than a few moments this time, I hope. And you rescued your maiden, I see. Moria of Edgewood. And that"--he pointed at Daigo--"that is a grand hunting cat. No wonder our hounds are whining."