Echoes (19 page)

“Stop squirming around,” Carly admonished for the third time.

“Then stop yanking my hair. Are you trying to rip it out at the roots?” Darius snapped, trying to hold himself still.

“It has to be wound in tight. If your Breken braid falls off while you’re in the middle of a conversation, that might be just a little bad,” Carly barked back. She tugged his hair, trying to gather it together enough so that she could weave in the braid she had waiting. “At least it seems like it’ll be long enough to make it work. You’re looking a little shaggy, so I guess I should be grateful you haven’t had it cut.”

“Dearra likes it long. She likes to pull on it too,” Darius said with a teasing grin.

“Okay—yuck! I don’t need to hear that.” Carly made a sour face, pinched her eyes shut, and shuddered.

Darius laughed aloud. “You’re a married lady. Don’t tell me
that
makes you uncomfortable.”

“She’s like my sister. I may know what goes on behind closed doors, but that doesn’t mean I want details.”

“I, for one, wish there were more details to give,” Darius said quietly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Carly asked as she continued to attach the braid.

“This thing with Brin—we have to resolve it. Being so near Dearra is driving me mad. I’m still a man, Carly, even if Dearra has me mostly tamed.”

“No one thinks you’re tamed, Darius.”

He tipped his head back to look at her and raised his eyebrows.

“Well, all right, maybe a little, but not in a bad way.”

“There’s a good way?”

Carly ignored the question. “If it’s so difficult, stop sleeping in her room. We all know that’s where you are. You might as well know that we know so you can stop trying to be stealthy in your comings and goings.”

“What gave me away?” he asked.

“Shanks. He reports everything to the king, and shortly thereafter to Daniel.”

“If Daniel knew, and he didn’t have a problem with it, which I know he didn’t or he would have forcefully removed me, why didn’t he just say something?”

“He enjoys watching you tie yourself in knots trying to protect Dearra’s honor. He thinks it’s the least you can do. And stop that growling! With Hugh gone, Daniel’s the closest thing Dearra has to a father. You should appreciate how lenient he’s being. If you had a daughter who allowed a man to sleep in her chamber every night, what would you do?”

Darius ceased his growls, hesitated, and then raised his hands in surrender.

“That’s what I thought,” Carly said.

“Here,” she said, thrusting a mirror into Darius’s hands.

“It’s not the right shade,” he complained.

“Forgive me. I didn’t realize you were so vain about your hair.” Carly grabbed the mirror out of his hands and tossed it onto the table.

“I just meant that it wasn’t a perfect match, and someone might notice the difference.”

“It’ll be dark. You should be fine. Besides, Kahn was the only one who came close to having the right color. Mirin Tor is filled with people with brown hair. We even have the occasional blonde or red, but black…that’s hard to come by.”

“Are you telling me I have horse hair…on my
head
!”

“No, I’m telling you that Kahn, whom I consider a friend, has generously given a large number of hairs from his magnificent tail so you can be kept just a little bit safer. Is that a problem?”

Darius couldn’t miss the chill in the room. He thought better of irritating Carly further. “No. No problem. I thank you…and Kahn, of course.”

“I’ll let him know,” Carly said snidely, giving him a gentle shove.

Dearra swept into the room. In her arms she was holding a red and black garment. “I got it! Jacob wasn’t very keen to hand it over, but I was able to persuade him.”

No,
I
was able to persuade him,
Brin corrected.
Nice braid, Darius.
You look very pretty.

“Shut up, Brin,” Darius said.

“It’s not the right shade of black, is it?” Dearra said, reaching up to touch the braid.

“That’s what
I
said,” Darius answered. Seeing Carly’s expression, he added, “But as Carly pointed out, it will be dark.”

“Hmm, I suppose, but I like your color better.”

“I like your color best.” Darius lowered his mouth to Dearra’s and kissed her gently. He pulled away, but then changed his mind and kissed her again. He slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer.

Hello? We’re still in the room, you know.

“Come on, come on, that’s enough of that! We have to get him dressed,” Carly said impatiently.

Dearra had wound her arms around Darius’s neck. “I would rather get him
undressed.
” She giggled, and watched in fascination as his eyes darkened.

Yes, that’s very helpful, Dearra. Maybe you should leave Carly to it, if you can’t behave yourself.

“I’ll be good.” She sighed, and released him.

“May we come in?” Aesri called from the doorway. Niada was standing slightly behind her.

“Of course. Did you bring it?” Darius asked.

“Yes.” Aesri held up the inkwell. “If it rains, or someone is overly observant, you may have to think quickly, but I can duplicate the mark well enough I believe.”

“Make it perfect, Aesri. I want him back in one piece.” Dearra reached up and stroked his face.

Darius took a seat, and Aesri began to meticulously add to the tattoo on his face. In the Breken world, the tattoo identified the individual as much as his name, if not more so. For the plan to be successful, Darius needed to become someone else entirely. He sat quietly, and while the Etrafarian worked on him, he prepared himself mentally to once more pick up the Breken mantle he had tried so hard to cast aside.

***

The night was perfect for their plan. There was no moon. The sky was overcast, so even the starlight had been mostly eliminated, except for the occasional break in the clouds. Too bad those same clouds didn’t carry the water they so urgently needed.

Darius picked up the rattle of swords on shields from several hundred yards away. The Breken were restless. When the City gate was opened, two thousand warriors burst forth and yelled out fierce war cries. He chose that moment to slip from the city. No one would notice him with the noise being made, and even if they had been looking, the black night was all the cover he needed to ensure he remained hidden from view. He kept close to the walls of the city, and worked his way toward an orchard. Its branches were winter bare, but it was enough cover to get him nearer the woods.

There weren’t enough Breken to completely encircle the city, at least not efficiently. Their main force was positioned in the woods in front of the South gate. That said, they still had encampments spread out in a loose perimeter to stand sentry, should the inhabitants of the capital try to make a run for it.

Darius picked his way through the forest, working his way steadily toward the Breken camp that had unknowingly been built over the exit of the tunnel. If he would have gone out the north gate of the city, he would have found himself much closer, but he wouldn’t have had any additional cover, and he didn’t trust that the clouds wouldn’t break enough to give him away. Even with no moon, he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t be seen on the flat, barren expanse.

There was one difficult moment. Darius had just skirted one camp, and was starting to move more freely again, when he walked directly into a group of three Breken, who seemed as startled to see him as he was them. They were huddled together, and one of them was holding a skin, which Darius assumed was filled with wine. He must have interrupted them just as they were about to light a fire for warmth. A few seconds later and the flames would have announced their presence, and he would have been able to avoid them altogether.

“Taking a break?” he asked with his cold, Breken voice. He strode forward, took the skin from the warrior’s hand, pulled the stopper from it, and tipped it back to drink deeply of the contents. He had time to hope they weren’t out there plotting an assassination, or the liquid that was running its warm fingers down his throat, might be the last thing he ever tasted.

He replaced the stopper and tossed it back to the man. “You’re from Drauga, aren’t you?”

“What’s it to you?” the warrior asked. He was clearly upset to have had his wine treated so casually, and then to be questioned by this stranger.

“Watch your tone!” Darius drew his sword in a motion too quick to follow, and held it to the man’s throat. His two companions wanted nothing to do with it, and stepped back a few paces indicating they were no threat. “I am a captain for the noble house of Tempestas, lately merged with house Falco, of the great city of Darak, and you will speak with respect, or I will cut your impudent tongue from your mouth and feed it to my dogs. Now, seeing as I am in such a generous mood, I will allow you one more chance to answer my question.”

“Yes, I am from Drauga.” The warrior’s tone was clipped, but for the time being, he had decided not to challenge the man before him.

“I thought I recognized the smell.” Darius lowered the sword, but did not put it away. “And when you are not derelict in your duties and sneaking off with your playmates to drink wine, that you most certainly have stolen, what are your orders?”

“We are supposed to patrol the perimeter, check in with the other camps, and report back anything unusual or out of the ordinary. But…you should already know that,
Captain
.”

The Breken soldier drew his sword. “I don’t think I see your insignia,” he said. “Have I missed it?”

Damn it
, Darius thought.

One of the other soldiers had his weapon half drawn when Darius sent a dagger into his chest, and then lifted his sword to defend himself against the attack of the man before him. The third man bolted into the woods.

Darius waved his free hand, and the cloak of his opponent caught fire. The man glanced down for no more than a moment, but it bought Darius enough time for his sword to whistle through the air, and remove his head. He was off in pursuit of the third man before the body even hit the forest floor. His heart was hammering in his chest. They were far too close to the camp Darius had skirted earlier. If the warrior called out for aid, there was a good chance he would be heard, but the fool was probably too worried about being found where he wasn’t supposed to be to do that.

When the fleeing Breken looked over his shoulder to see how close Darius was, he tripped on some exposed roots. It was over in an instant. Darius wiped his blade clean on the man’s cloak, but there was no time for him to try to conceal the body. He was already late. If he took much longer, Shanks might call off the attempt altogether.

In an effort to make up the time he had lost, Darius began to run.

The low grunt of a stag caught the officer’s attention. He removed the knife from its sheath and moved stealthily through the woods. If he called out for assistance, or took the time to gather some men to surround the deer, he might give it time to slip away. Winter in Mirin Tor was very different from what he’d experienced in Parsaia. They were kept fed well enough, but fresh meat was not to be passed up when the opportunity presented itself.

The grunt sounded again, followed by some pawing noises, and the officer moved deeper into the woods. The Breken crouched behind a tree, trying to make out any movement ahead, preparing to spring.

The man might have had time to register the feel of cold metal on his neck as Darius sliced his throat, but Darius doubted it. He knelt beside the officer in the dark and removed the metal chain, which carried proof of his rank, from around his neck. A lieutenant. A captain would have been better, but a captain probably wouldn’t have been stupid enough to wander alone into the woods in search of venison. It would have to do.

The ranking system was the same for all of the cities, or he would have been in real trouble. There was a time when the Breken had all been united, but the centuries had seen them grow beyond the confines of a single, unified city. The chance for advancement was limited at best. Every thousand years or so, some of the lower houses broke away and formed their own city. That was fine with the Breken. It allowed other subordinate houses to move up in rank.

Darius slipped the chain over his own head and made his way towards the Breken camp.

***

Shanks peered through the opening of the tunnel. There was a frightening moment when he saw a pair of Breken boots, no more than two paces from where he stood. Had the warrior been standing on the hatch when Shanks tried to open it… But he hadn’t, thank the gods.

Shanks could only shake his head in wonder when Darius strode into the camp and started barking orders that they should prepare to leave. Men of Mirin Tor would have wanted an explanation, but the Breken men began packing, seemingly without thought or care. One of them paused long enough to ask where their lieutenant had gone off to, but Darius ended that conversation by saying the lieutenant had been smart enough to do as he was told, and was probably half way to the main gates of the city by then.

Within minutes, most of the tents and supplies had been shouldered by the troops, and they were on their way. Only six men remained. Darius wouldn’t be able to order them all away, that might have drawn suspicion. Some needed to stay to keep watch.

Shanks waited for as long as he could, but his legs had begun to cramp from standing so long on the ladder leading out of the tunnel, and the shuffling noises behind him told him the rest of them were getting anxious as well. Idiots. Didn’t they remember his warning not to be careless in the tunnels? If they dropped the ceiling now, they would certainly lose many people, and the ones who managed to make it out on this end would have a long and dangerous run back to the capital.

Shanks put his shoulder into the cover that hid the access to the tunnel and eased it aside. If it hadn’t been for the thick layer of leaves, the Breken would surely have noticed the hollow sound beneath their boots every time they stomped over the hidden door. It was a good thing there wasn’t any snow to speak of, or they never would have been able to get through at all. Of course, had there been snow, there would have been no need to get to the river.
They came out of the tunnel, one at time, cautious to not draw attention. Once clear, they slipped like deadly shadows to their chosen targets and dispatched each of them with ease. The one nice thing about the Breken was that they didn’t give a damn about one another. If they had, they might have at least thought to work in pairs.

“Water bearers,” Shanks whispered into the black tunnel, “go ahead and light the lanterns. No light above ground—we don’t know who will be watching. The light from the Breken fire will have to serve.”

The volunteers, mostly women, covered from head to toe in warm cloaks, emerged from the tunnel carrying an assortment of jugs, skins, and tightly woven baskets. They spread out in two lines to the nearby river. One line passed along the empty containers, while the other passed the filled ones back.

Every hour or so, they switched off, so that the ones who had been moving the empty containers could take over for those who’d had the burden of the water-filled ones. Shanks kept circling the area, keeping his ears open for trouble.

It was all going quite well, until a man suddenly flew past him shouting, “Breken! Breken! Get to the tunnels!”

His shouts ended abruptly when Darius crashed into him and clamped a hand over his mouth, sending both of them tumbling to the forest floor.

“Be quiet!” Darius warned in a menacing hiss.

“Darius? Is that you?” Shanks called in a loud whisper.

“Of course it’s me. Lucky thing for this one, too. If it had been anyone else, he’d be dead by now.”

Shanks chuckled, and extended both hands to help the men up.

“Sorry, sir,” the man mumbled, clearly embarrassed.

“Don’t be,” Shanks said. “You did exactly what you were supposed to do. We should have come up with a signal of some sort.”

“How’s it going?” Darius asked.

“Good. Better than we’d hoped. We’ve seen no sign of patrols. It’ll be dawn soon. We’ve gathered about all we can. I’ll let everyone know to finish with the containers they have now. They can all fill what’s left, and then we can go back through the tunnels and drop the ceiling. It’s a pity we can’t leave it open.”

“It’s no good wishing,” Darius said. “Even if we could manage to hide the bodies of the guards you killed, the evidence that we’ve been here is too strong. The ground’s trampled in a straight line all the way to the river, and the Breken could follow that line back to the tunnel blindfolded.”

“I suppose, but it’s still a shame.”

***

The last of the Mirin Tor were making their way cautiously down the ladder when the Breken came bursting through the woods. The first rays of dawn were stretching across the sky and there was no hiding.

“Go! Drop the water and run! Shanks! Get them through!” Darius ran toward a few stragglers who seemed to think they could flee and still carry the heavy water jugs. He knocked the vessels from their hands, and shoved them roughly to get them moving.

One by one they disappeared down the tunnel, running with heart-pounding speed. Darius was right behind them. He looked nervously over his head every few feet, as dirt filtered down from above. The way it was looking, they wouldn’t have to do more than breathe hard to bring it all down. There were lanterns every ten feet or so, which made finding their way along the path a lot easier. On the way to the river, they had not lit anything for fear that when they’d open the tunnel, any glow, no matter how faint, would draw the enemies’ attention.

About midway back to the capital, Darius saw the perfect spot to destroy the tunnel. The ceiling there was in especially poor shape, and planks and supports had been erected years ago to keep it from collapsing. Ten feet farther up the tunnel, the ceiling was solid stone. It was the only safe section in the whole place. A few, well-placed ropes were all they needed to yank out the supports. Once that section went, Darius had no doubt the rest of it would as well, and they would remain protected under the roof of stone.

He met Shanks at the spot where the wooden ceiling turned to rock. “I’ve got this, Shanks,” he said. “Get the rest of them up.”

“You sure? I could stay with you, just in case.”

“No time and no need. I can handle this. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? Even if I fail to bring it down, the Breken can only come out of the tunnel a couple at a time, and you can all be waiting at the other end to take them out as they come through.”

“The worst that can happen,” Shanks shot back, “is that you can die down here. I’ve grown fond of you, man of Maj. Also, I don’t want to tell Dearra that I was the one to leave you behind.”

The sound of voices carried down the passage, and Darius clapped a hand onto the man’s arm. “Go on, my friend. I promise not to get lost.”

Shanks smiled and turned to go.

Darius grabbed hold of the ropes, and the muscles in his arms strained. It was more difficult than he had thought it would be, but then he felt the braces begin to give way. He saw the light of the Breken torches as they came from further back, and then, as the roof began to go, his heart froze in his chest.

A woman stumbled from around the corner. She was holding her arm over her head, trying to shield herself from the falling rocks. She looked up and their eyes locked.

“Darius!” she cried out.

“Queen Marianne,” he breathed. He didn’t stop to think, but rushed, headlong, down the tunnel. He reached her just as the timbers gave way with a creaking groan.

The world went dark.