Allegiance Sworn (33 page)

Chapter 37

R
ASSAN’S
mouth flattened. “Imhara, we gambled and we lost.”

“The error was
mine
, Rassan. I’ll rectify it.”

“Your error? You were wounded in battle. Not something you can predict.” The
Na’Chi’s
gaze darkened then lit up with yellow, flickering between the two colors as his whole body shook with Imhara’s announcement. “And since when did this become just
your
crusade?”

Lady of Light
. It was like watching an oil lantern smash on stone and the flame ignite. Arek wasn’t sure he’d ever seen Rassan so volatile, but then he wondered if Imhara had ever given such an irrational order before.

“You’ll never get close to Savyr.” The warrior’s statement came out flat and hard. “When Yur and I left camp, Barrca and the others set the final strategy in motion. They’ve had almost an hour.”

“What strategy?” Arek frowned, his gaze flicking between them.

Both Kaal Clan members remained silent, unwilling to unlock their gazes. Then Rassan relented, and glanced to him.

“If Savyr ever summoned Imhara to his keep, once she’d gone, everyone else would leave as well. Small groups. Abandoning our tents and supplies in camp, so none of the other Clans would suspect anything amiss. They would take only what they could carry. Oreese would use his Gift to manipulate the weather, and Atallie, her fire skills.”

Atallie’s name proved familiar. An image of a young woman among the cooking crew flashed through Arek’s mind.

He raised an eyebrow. “Cover for their escape?”

Rassan gave a nod. “And ours should we have succeeded against Savyr.”

“What would Atallie set on fire?”

“Tents, wagons, stock fodder, anything flammable, at various locations around the Clan campsites.” Rassan gestured with his chin. “If we looked out that window now, there’d be a fog forming and we’d hear watchtower bells ringing.”

Any fire among pavilions and tents so closely packed together would quickly burn out of control.

The soft hiss of blades sliding into sheaths drew Arek’s attention to Imhara. Her lips were pressed together into a thin, determined line. Sweat beaded her brow; her face had lost color, making the markings running down either side stand out.

Arek understood Rassan’s frustration. Imhara might be well on her way to recovery, but there was no way she was ready to take on Savyr alone. Convincing her of that though was going to be tough.

On one hand he understood her desire to seek vengeance, but his heart couldn’t let her go to her death.

Her people needed her.

Light
, he needed her. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, that was the bare, selfish truth. There was something between them, and for the first time, he wanted to explore what it was, and he couldn’t do that if she followed through on her plan.

There were traces of anger in her gaze, but also a wildness he recognized. A powerful combination of emotions drove Imhara Kaal, and the internal deluge submerged logic and reason. Not that long ago he’d felt the same sense of desperation and panic at realizing his carefully ordered world had been turned upside down.

“If you intend on making it through the gates before they’re shut, I suggest you two get moving,” she stated.

Rassan’s thunderous expression returned.

Catching his eye, Arek shook his head and rose from the bed. “Imhara.”

“Not you, too!” Her accusation was bitter, harsh, and she backed away from him. “You of all people should know how I feel!”

Arek followed her retreat, the scene a reversal and eerily reminiscent of the one earlier in the evening. When she hit the wall, her chin lifted.

“I do.” He stopped a pace away from her.

If she didn’t listen, then he would physically overpower her and carry her out of the fortress. Rassan would most probably help.

“My hatred for Savyr still exists. It won’t ever go away. He took my parents from me and, in a fashion, did the same with my grandfather.” He didn’t hide the struggle going on inside him. “Vengeance brought me to you. Your thirst for the same made me a part of your plan to kill Savyr.” His brief smile was wry. “I convinced myself it offset any differences and conflicts I thought existed between us.”

Here he hesitated, uncertainty eating at his gut, then doggedly continued.

“Vengeance destroyed Davyn’s life. Until I met you, I was headed down the same path.” His tone gentled. “As much as I want to see Savyr dead, I now have more to live for. And so do you.”

Imhara’s eyelids closed and her jaw flexed. Her throat worked hard. She sucked in one uneven breath after another.

“You’ve always told me you’d do anything for your Clan. Make any decision, take any action, to help them.” Arek wanted to smooth the frown from her brow, but he didn’t think she’d welcome his touch, given he had one last thing to say to her. “If you go after Savyr now, you’ll do more damage to them than he ever has. They need a leader, not a martyr.”

Her eyes snapped open as her hands fisted so tight her knuckles went white. He braced himself, expecting some sort of physical response. It didn’t come. She just stared at him for the longest time, her gaze haunted.

Stark.

“When you’ve lived with something that’s been a part of your life for so long, letting go isn’t easy.” Her hoarsely spoken words gave him hope.

“Agreed. But it can be done. Together, if you want.”

Her hands flexed and she gave a jerky nod. “I’m still not happy leaving Savyr alive.”

“None of us are, Imhara,” Rassan assured her.

Arek gave in to temptation and touched his fingertips to her cheek. “Disgruntled but breathing. I’m sure Rassan and I can live with that.”

The wildness in her gaze seemed more controlled. She shot a look over his shoulder. “
Light
, he’s too much like you.”

A snort came from behind Arek. “I don’t see how that’s a problem.”

A tentative knock sounded at the door. Rassan moved quickly for a man his size. He pressed himself up against the wall behind the door.

“
Na
Kaal, is everything all right?” Ilahn’s muffled query reached them.

They all exchanged looks.

“I’ll buy us some time,” Imhara murmured. She joined Rassan. “Everything’s fine, trader.”

“Are you sure? The attendants said they heard . . . arguing.”

She snorted softly. “Nice way of saying pitched battle,” she murmured, then raised her voice. “Second Yur and I disagreed on a point of discussion. Apologies if we disturbed anyone. He will be leaving shortly.”

A long silence, and Arek shared another look with Rassan. The
Na’Chi’s
expression remained alert.

“Very well,
Na
Kaal. Please let us know if you need anything.”

Arek released the breath he didn’t even know he’d been holding. Bodies scattered haphazardly over the bedroom floor might have been hard to explain had the trader entered the room. At least he observed his own rules.

But for how long, that was the question.

“We need to get out of this House.” Arek glanced between them. “Ilahn knows Yur came in here with his men. Isn’t it going to seem strange if we walk out of here unescorted?”

Imhara shared a smile with her Second. “With so many of his clients demanding anonymity, Ilahn goes to great lengths to ensure their privacy.”

Rassan sheathed his sword and headed to one of the windows. He jerked back the curtain and pushed open the shutters. The faint chiming of bells drifted into the room.

“There’s a landing and stairway outside the windows in every room on this floor,” Imhara explained. “They descend to the street below.”

Arek scooped up one of the
Na’Reish
daggers, tucked it into his belt, and draped his shirt over the top of it. He was tempted to pick up the sword, but out on the streets, he didn’t know who they’d come across. A slave carrying one would bring them only trouble they couldn’t afford. A dagger, on the other hand, held the element of surprise. He motioned Imhara to the window.

Rassan stepped back and gestured for them to go first. “Time to go. We’ve outstayed our welcome.”

* * *

RASSAN
signaled them to halt in the shadowed overhang of a balcony. The reason became clear when the pounding of boot steps on cobblestones drifted through the wall of ethereal fog ahead of them. The closer they came, the more the thump of leather on stone drowned out the distant ringing of the fortress gate bells.

“Patrol,” her Second whispered.

Imhara tightened her hand around Arek’s and tugged him behind her into a small alcove, possibly the side entrance to whatever business inhabited the building.

The structures around them were mostly closed businesses, anonymous gray forms towering above them in the dark, with only the occasional night lamp hanging outside a doorway or a window lighting up a patch of ground on the pathway outside.

Her heart beat harder. “That’s the fourth we’ve come across tonight.” An uneasy sense of foreboding settled between her shoulder blades. “What’s going on?”

A shrug accompanied Rassan’s grim expression. “We need to get off the streets. There’s no cover here.”

This late at night, few wandered the street. Come daylight that would change as traders, slaves, and customers roamed the business district.

Her Second glanced up and down the street. “There. A stairway.”

He led the way.

“We’re crossing the cobblestone street and heading into a small alleyway between buildings,” Imhara murmured to Arek.

The closer they drew to the fortress gates, the thicker Oreese’s fog became. Traversing the shrouded streets had become much more difficult, but more so for Arek, as he lacked their enhanced night-sight. Not that she minded the slower pace. The healing wound in her side ached, the stitchlike pain hurting more the faster they moved.

She counted down the distance as she guided him across. “Gutter. Step up. The stairway takes us onto the curtain wall.”

“Why do you think there are so many patrols on the streets?” Arek’s grip tightened as they entered the dark alleyway.

“Perhaps Ilahn’s already raised the alarm.”

Arek’s scent thickened, and although he didn’t say it out loud, Imhara knew what he was thinking. If the trader had alerted Savyr to Yur’s death, then the fortress gates would be shut and patrols would be looking for them.

Regardless of the reason for the increased presence of patrols on the streets, they needed to avoid meeting anyone if it was at all possible. Her bloodstained shirt would bring questions they didn’t want to answer.

“Imhara!” Rassan’s urgent hiss came from the top of the stairway. A rumble of thunder accompanied his hail. “You’ve got to see this!”

As she and Arek ascended the last few stairs, they joined Rassan in an empty, corner guard tower. It gave a clear view of the southern and western sides of the fortress. Crossing to the southern parapet, a gust of wind carried the scent of rain and acrid odor of smoke. Wondering why the tower was empty was pushed aside as her breath caught at the panorama spread out on the other side of the river that ran beside the fortress.

To the far left, a massive fog bank blanketed the area she knew to be the Clan campsite. The pitch of tents and the odd pavilion poked through the top layer. Patches of it though glowed an eerie kaleidoscope of colors, red, orange, and gold. Shouting carried on the breeze, but the voices were indistinguishable at this distance.

“
Lady’s Breath
, how much of the campsite did Atallie set alight?” Arek’s soft question echoed her thoughts. “It looks like the whole camp is under attack.”

Imhara grinned. It did indeed, and that could provide a possible explanation for the increased number of patrols roaming the fortress.

“If you think that’s spectacular, then you’d better take a look at this.” Rassan motioned them over to the other side of the watchtower.

As Imhara crossed the floor, the world lit up in a flash of light closely followed by another explosion of thunder. As her night vision returned, she had to blink several times before comprehending what she saw. The fog hadn’t reached the ground on this side of the fortress, probably because Oreese had concentrated his efforts on the gates and the Clan campsite.

“Merciful Mother!”
She gripped the cold stone wall and leaned over for a clearer view.

An Enclave gathering was impressive at the best of times. Anywhere from four to five thousand members set up tents outside the Gannec fortress every year, a massive undertaking in logistics, preparation, and execution.

Yet here, row upon row of tents, ten deep, stretched the entire length of the western wall. The sheer size of the canvas city put the Clan campsite to shame and sent chills racing down her spine.

“Savyr’s army.” She couldn’t keep the hoarseness out of her voice as a curse ripped from Arek’s mouth. “The
Na’Rei
is going to war.”

Savyr would be the first king in generations to mobilize a full army and march across the border in an all-out assault against the humans since the Great War. A shiver prickled the length of Imhara’s body.