Eye of the Labyrinth (16 page)

Chapter 28

Marqel was forced to leave Kirshov for a few hours to go into the town to find some bromelain extract, imported from the distant Galina islands, to help relieve his pain and bruising. She had tried explaining what she wanted to one of the duke’s servants, but the half-witted fool had returned with nothing more useful than a packet of turmeric, so she decided to undertake the task herself.

The marketplace was crowded. This close to the Landfall Festival the city was packed with visitors and traveling performers. She watched a troupe of acrobats performing for a while, thinking they weren’t nearly as good as she had once been, although there were more of them in the troupe and, by the quality of their costumes, they appeared to be making a tidy living.

It was a long time since Marqel had spared her former life a thought. She wondered for a moment what had become of Kalleen and Lanatyne, Murry and Sooter and the insufferable Vonril. She decided she didn’t care. Marqel had moved up in the world, a fact that was driven home to her time and again as she browsed the markets, looking for a decent herbalist. People hurried out of her way. They made a path for her through the crowd as if her red robe was surrounded by an invisible shell that others could not penetrate.

Almost ...

She was nearly bowled over by a rough-looking boy dressed like a sailor who barreled straight into her. He smelled like he hadn’t bathed in a month, walked with his head down and his unruly dark hair was probably riddled with lice.

“Idiot!” she snapped. “Why don’t you watch where you’re going?”

“Thorry ...” the young man muttered without looking up.

Marqel pushed past him and then stopped suddenly and turned to look at the boy. He had grown somewhat in the two years since she had seen him last, but there was no mistaking that lisp. “Eryk?”

The boy stopped and turned to look at her blankly. “My lady?”

“Goddess! It is you! Don’t you remember me, Eryk? Marqel? The acrobat? From Elcast?”

Slowly she saw the light of comprehension glimmering in his dull eyes. “But you’re a Shadowdancer.”

“That’s right. Don’t you remember? That’s why I was on the ship with you on the way to Avacas. So I could join the Shadowdancers.”

The boy nodded, suddenly cheered to see a familiar face. “What are you doing here, then?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.”

The stroke of good fortune that had made Eryk cross Marqel’s path left her almost dizzy. In truth, she couldn’t have cared less about seeing Eryk again, but one thing was certain— where Eryk went, Dirk Provin was sure to be close by.
Is he here
now? If I look up will I be looking into those cold, unforgiving eyes?
Almost fearfully, Marqel glanced around, studying the faces in the crowd, wondering if she could spot him, but there were too many people.

Marqel looked back at Eryk with a smile. In the hands of this half-witted man-child lay a future she had not dared dream about. That she might be the one to discover where Dirk Provin was hiding when all of Prince Antonov’s efforts to flush him out over the past two years had failed was more than she could have hoped for; more than she could have imagined in her wildest fantasies.

“Why don’t we go somewhere quieter, Eryk?” she suggested. “Somewhere we can talk.”

“If you want,” Eryk agreed readily.

Marqel took his grubby, calloused hand in hers and led him to an inn on the other side of the square. Her status as a Shadowdancer secured them a private room without so much as mention of a payment. She ordered wine from the innkeeper, then changed her mind and ordered ale instead. Eryk would prefer ale, she guessed.

“You’ve been away a long time,” she said, taking a seat beside him on the small settee by the window. “I was worried about you.”

“You were?” he asked in surprise.

“Of course I was! You and Dirk disappeared so suddenly, we were all afraid that something terrible had happened to you.”

“We was fine, Mar— my la— What do I call you now?”

“Marqel is fine, Eryk. We’re old friends, remember?”

He nodded eagerly. “We’ve been in the Baenlands,” he volunteered. “But it’s a secret. Nobody’s supposed to know we’re there.”

“Never fear. I’ll not tell,” she lied with a comforting smile. “It must be terribly harsh, living with all those pirates.”

“I really liked it,” he told her, and then he frowned. “Well, I did until I tried to kiss Mellie. I hurt her, I think. I didn’t mean to, truly, but she said she wanted to marry me and then she screamed and Dirk hit me and Reithan got really mad at me, too, and they wouldn’t let me see Mellie and then they put me on the ship with Cap’n Isingrin and they all pick on me ’cause I’m slow and . . .” His incomprehensible babbling trailed off unhappily.

“Who is Mellie?” she asked curiously.

“She said she was going to marry me.”

Marqel smiled. “You said that. Why did she scream when you kissed her?”

“I don’t know ...”

“Had you ever kissed a girl before Mellie?”

The boy shook his head, his eyes downcast.

“Then maybe you just weren’t doing it right,” she suggested.

He looked up hopefully. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, maybe this Mellie of yours just got a fright because you didn’t know what you were doing.”

“I suppose,” he conceded. “But it doesn’t matter now. They’re never going to let me see her again.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps that’s why they sent you out on a ship—so you could get out into the big wide world and gain some experience.”

“How?” he asked.

“You could always pay someone to show you what to do, Eryk.”

The boy shook his head. “Even if I could afford a whore, Lord Dirk says I shouldn’t go near them ’cause they’ve got diseases.”

Marqel bit back a smile.
How typical of Dirk Provin.
Then another thought occurred to her. Eryk was more than just a lucky break. He could do more than tell her where Dirk was. If she handled him correctly, he could be an unending source of information that she could use to advance herself into the High Priestess’s favor.

“There are other ways to learn, Eryk.”

“I don’t understand.”

Careful not to startle him, Marqel gently placed her hand on Eryk’s thigh. “I could show you.”

He stared down at her hand with wide eyes. “You? But you’re a Thadow ... I mean a
Shadowdancer!
”

“It is my job as a servant of the Goddess to help people, Eryk.” She smiled warmly at him. “You could do me a favor in return.”

“What sort of favor?”

“I’m not sure ...” she said, making a great show of giving the matter serious thought. “I know . . . how about telling me all about what Dirk’s been up to?”

“Why do you want to know that?”

She shrugged. “I don’t really. Personally, I don’t care what he’s been doing these past two years. But Prince Kirshov and Princess Alenor miss him terribly. You know what good friends they all were. If you can tell me all about him I’d be able to pass it on to them, to stop them worrying about him.”

“I don’t know ...” he said uncertainly.

“I understand it’s a secret, Eryk, and I promise I wouldn’t tell anyone else but Alenor and Kirsh. It would mean so much to them, especially Kirsh. He’s very sick at the moment.”

Eryk nodded. “Will he be all right? Lord Dirk was really angry about that. He said they shouldn’t have done it.”

It was her turn to look surprised. “
You
know who beat up Kirsh?”

He looked away guiltily. “I’m not supposed to say.”

“Then I won’t ask you to betray your friends,” she promised. She didn’t need to ask, anyway. If Eryk knew who Kirsh’s assailants were, then it was a fairly safe bet they were part of the same crew he belonged to. And better yet, Dirk Provin was on the same ship . . .

But Eryk was not quite as stupid as she remembered. He was reluctant to divulge anything regarding Dirk. For that matter, Marqel did not even know the name of his ship. All she really knew was that Eryk was lusting after some girl called Mellie.

“Let’s not worry about Dirk, for the time being,” she declared. “Let’s deal with your problem first. Show me how you kissed Mellie.”

Eryk stared at her. “Here?”

“There’s nobody watching.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, I’m sure. Come now, don’t be shy. How can I help you if you won’t show me where you went wrong?”

Eryk thought it over for a moment, and then he nodded. “I kissed her on the mouth.”

“Like this?” Marqel leaned forward and kissed him, teasing his mouth open with the tip of her tongue.

Eryk cried out in alarm.

“What’s the matter?”

“It weren’t nothing like that!”

“Did you like it?” she asked, trying to hide her smile.

“Well ...” he mumbled uncertainly. The boy had blushed a bright shade of crimson.
Pathetic little creep.

“Don’t you think your Mellie would like to be kissed like that?”

“I suppose . . .”

“Then we have our work cut out for us, Eryk,” she announced in a businesslike tone. “And when we’re done, you can tell me all about Dirk.”

Chapter 29

Her mind still reeling from the information she now had in her grasp, Marqel hurried back through the duke’s house toward the room where Kirsh lay. The halls in this part of the house were gloomy, even in the middle of the day, the only light coming from a narrow window at the far end of the long corridor. As she turned the corner she spied a familiar figure heading in the same direction and cursed under her breath. The last person she had wanted or expected to see on her return was the princess.

“Did you enjoy your ride, your highness?” she called.

Alenor stopped and turned to face Marqel. “What are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same question, your highness. I left orders that the prince wasn’t to be disturbed.”

Strangely, her declaration seemed to have little impact on the little princess. “
You
left orders, Marqel?”

“I am responsible for his care, your highness.”

“A task you appear to be undertaking with great enthusiasm.”

Marqel frowned. Why was Alenor so smug, so unperturbed?

“I don’t answer to you, Princess Alenor.”

“Not yet,” she agreed. “But you will. One day.”

Marqel bit back the retort that leapt to mind. She did not have the time or the inclination to get into an argument with the princess. What she wanted was to return to Kirsh, to tell him what she had learned about Dirk Provin.

“Do you know if there’s been any news on who attacked him?” she asked, deliberately ignoring Alenor’s thinly veiled threat.

“Not yet. Although it was fortunate that you chanced to be walking past the lane where he was attacked, just so you could come to his aid.”

“The Goddess led me to him,” Marqel replied.

“Do you truly believe that, Marqel?” she asked.

“Of course I do.”

Alenor was silent for a moment, and then she nodded. “Then I trust you’ll pray for Kirsh’s speedy recovery.”

Marqel stared at her suspiciously, but she could detect no hint of cynicism in Alenor’s tone. “I will.”

Alenor turned toward Kirsh’s room.

“Your highness!”

“Yes?”

“The prince is sleeping at the moment and I’d prefer it if he wasn’t disturbed. I can send someone to fetch you when he’s awake.”

Alenor hesitated, and then she nodded. “As
soon
as he wakes, Marqel. I’ll be in the library.”

“Yes, your highness,” she promised.

Marqel reached Kirsh’s door and knocked before entering. The prince was lying on the bed, covered by a thin sheet that was already bloodstained in several places. His face was bruised and bloodied, as was the rest of his body. There was barely a part of him that had not been hit.

“Kirsh?” She asked the question softly, in case he really was asleep.

Kirsh moved his head gingerly and squinted at Marqel. “Am I still dreaming?”

“You’re not dreaming, Kirsh. It’s me.”

Kirsh pushed himself up onto his elbow. The effort it took was a testament to the pain he was in. They had done a real job on the Senetian prince. Marqel marveled that he was still alive—let alone conscious and coherent.

“I dreamed about you. You came to my rescue.” He shook his head slowly. “I thought I was dead. I thought you’d come to escort me through the afterlife.”

“What makes you think you’re special enough to warrant an escort through the afterlife?” Marqel asked with a smile. “And even if you did, what makes you think
I’d
come looking for you?”

Kirsh tried to smile, but his split lip opened again and began to bleed afresh. He groaned and flopped back onto the pillows. “I’m so glad you’re here, Marqel.”

“Who did this to you, Kirsh?”

Kirsh’s puffy eyes narrowed. “Shut the door.”

Curious, she obeyed, and then came back to sit on the side of the bed. Kirsh pushed himself up again with a groan. “I don’t know who to trust anymore. They told me that Alexin claims I was drunk and set upon by thieves down near the wharves. But I wasn’t drunk. He’s lying. Whoever attacked me knew who I was.”

“Are you saying you think this was deliberate? That the Queen’s Guard is somehow involved?” In light of what she had learned about Dirk, that put a rather interesting slant on things.

“I spoke to Alexin not long before I was attacked. He was drinking in a tavern near the docks with a man whom I believe to be a pirate, or at the very least, an associate of theirs.”

“You do know what you’re accusing them of, don’t you?” Marqel asked.

“I know, which is why I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t know who to trust. At least I can be sure of you.”

Marqel smiled. This put a whole new complexion on things. She suddenly decided not to mention anything to Kirshov about what she had learned from Eryk. The boy had not even hinted about a Guardsman being involved and, until she had proof, it might be wise to keep what she had learned to herself.

“I don’t know how high this goes,” Kirsh continued. “Is Alexin working on his own? Is he in league with the Baenlanders? Or is this something that infects the entire Queen’s Guard? It would explain why they’ve been so determined to drive me out.”

“Aren’t you making a great deal out of nothing, Kirsh?” she asked cautiously, trying to divert him. Her secret would be worthless if Kirsh worked it out on his own. “Alexin might simply be trying to cover his rear. It really doesn’t look good that you were attacked on his father’s island. He’ll have to explain what happened to both your father and the queen, and it makes Grannon Rock look a lot less culpable if you actually contributed to your own downfall.”

Kirsh hesitated for a moment. “I never thought of that.”

Marqel took his hand in hers and squeezed it gently. “Then it’s a good thing you told me your dire conspiracy theory before you opened that big mouth of yours and started accusing the Duke of Grannon Rock and the entire Queen’s Guard of treason.”

“But I could be right,” Kirsh insisted, not quite ready to abandon his theory.

“Yes, you could be right. But you might also be very, very wrong. I wouldn’t go making accusations like that unless you have proof, Kirsh.”

“Then I’ll find the proof!” he declared. “Will you help me, Marqel? You’re the only person in Dhevyn I trust.”

“Yes, Kirsh, I’ll help. Now why don’t you rest? You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit. I’m so tired.”

“Then why don’t you try to get some more sleep? Did you want me to fetch anything for you?” she asked, rising to her feet.

Kirsh closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “Can you find Alenor and send her to me?”

You’ll see Alenor when I’m good and ready to let her in,
Marqel replied silently, but she smiled at Kirsh. “She’s gone hawking for the day with Raban Seranov and a company of his friends, I believe.”

“Really? I always thought she didn’t like him much.”

“Well, with you incapacitated, she had to find something to do to entertain herself, I suppose.”

“Will you ask her to visit me when she gets back?”

“Of course,” she promised. “Now rest. I need to prepare a lotion to help ease your bruises. I’ll be back in a while.”

“I missed you, Marqel,” he murmured drowsily.

“I missed you, too,” she replied, but it was doubtful he heard her. By the time she reached the door, he was already snoring softly through his bruised and swollen nose.