Shadow’s Lure (19 page)

Ribbons of darkness uncoiled from her lips and vanished into his mouth. He tried to jerk away, but she held him steady as the sorcery did its work. It took only a moment. Then he slumped in his bonds. His chest rose and fell in a regular rhythm as if he were sleeping. Sybelle peeled back his drooping eyelids. The pupils had widened to twice their normal size.

Sybelle stepped back. The captive’s gaze followed her. He was hers now. The power of the shadow had infused him, taking by force what he would not volunteer.

“Now,” she said. “Tell me everything.”

K
eegan heaved his upper body over the side rail as the wagon crossed the bridge. As globs of spittle fell down into the dark waters of the Ascander River below, he was reminded how much he hated riding in the back.

The three of them—him, Liana, and the foreigner—had come out of the woods near Shireman’s Way. By a stroke of good fortune, a farmer hauling winter wheat had been driving along the lane just in time to give them a ride. As much as he despised it, riding was faster than walking, and less suspicious. He worried about how they were going to get into the city. The main gates closed at daybreak; after that, those who wanted in or out had to pass through a smaller postern gate where there was more scrutiny.

With a groan, Keegan sat back and tried to make himself comfortable. On the other side of the wagon bed, Caim reclined against the backboard, legs pushed out in front of him among the bushels, as still as the statues on Liberty Way.
He never gets sick or tired. He must be a warlock, the way he took down Ramon, and then that Northman. But what does he want?

Keegan couldn’t get what he’d seen at the roadhouse, and again in the woods, out of his mind. It wasn’t natural, the way the darkness responded to this stranger.
Like it knows its own kind
.

Caim reached under his cloak to rub the small of his back.
So he’s human after all
. Keegan started to smile, but then Caim looked over. One look from those stone-dead eyes set his stomach to churning again. He would be glad to be rid of this man. He needed to find his friends, those who survived. He could still hear the shouts and screams of the fighting, reminding him of the slaughter at Aldercairn. Once again, he had run and lived while others died. The shame of it burned in his chest.

The wagon slowed as the farmer—Henrick? Heddick?—clucked his tongue and shook the reins. Keegan craned his neck around. The high gray walls of the city blocked out the horizon. A muffled croak issued from the front seat. Keegan looked up to see Liana with both hands clasped over her mouth, her eyes wide. He followed her gaze to a line of poles erected on the side of the road. A cold lump formed in his stomach as he saw the charred remains chained to the stakes and smelled the stench of burnt meat. He held a sleeve over his nose and tried to make out their features as the wagon passed the gruesome display, but the corpses were little more than blackened cinders without faces or hair. Bloated crows cackled as they feasted on roasted flesh.

“What was their crime?” Caim asked.

The farmer spat over the buckboard. “No need for a crime to find yourself shackled to a stake around here, son. Some days, just breathing seems like enough reason.”

Keegan nodded, glad for an excuse to look away. “He’s right. People are put to death all the time in Liovard, for any excuse. The duke doesn’t care as long as his coffers are full. But they were probably priests, all the same.”

“The duke has a problem with the Church?”

“Why? Are you one of those sun-worshippers come to civilize us ignorant barbarians?”

Liana shushed him. Keegan opened his mouth to argue, but shut it again. He wasn’t in the mood. He just wanted to get to their uncle’s place. Caim had gone back to staring at nothing. A moment later, he grunted. Keegan looked over, but he didn’t elaborate.
A strange man
.

The wagon rolled to the back of a short queue. Ahead, soldiers searched a hay wain, even going so far as to plunge their spears into the bales of straw. Keegan swallowed and looked to Caim. Of course, he didn’t look concerned.

When their turn came, the soldiers made everyone get out of the wagon. The trooper in charge, a fat corporal with brown stains down the front of his uniform, ordered them all to lift their hands as he struggled to get out of his flimsy seat, which shook under his bulk like it wanted to collapse at any moment. Keegan braced himself to run as the fear of discovery surged through his limbs. Caim and Liana, however, raised their arms without hesitation. While some of the soldiers patted them down, others pawed through the farmer’s produce, all under the corporal’s suspicious gaze as he stood scratching his arse during the proceedings. A soldier walked over to Keegan.

“Lift your arms!”

Keegan glanced around. He didn’t see any archers on the wall, and he was confident he could outrun any of these overfed bastards in their heavy armor, but people inside were expecting him. Swallowing his ire, he raised his hands over his head.

The soldier patted his sides, his back, around his belt, and down his legs. The knife in his left boot was found and held up.

The corporal eyed the weapon. “What’s that for?”

“For eating, your lordship.”

The corporal scowled at him, hard enough to make Keegan consider a mad dash for safety. Then the fat man spat into the mud at his feet.

“Mind your tongue, boy. Or you’ll be missing it.”

Keegan nodded and tried to look scared, which wasn’t much of a stretch. Caim, Liana, and the farmer had all been searched and cleared. At a nod from the sentries, they climbed back into the wagon. The corporal squinted at Keegan, and then let him join them. As they rolled past, the soldier who had confiscated Keegan’s knife flipped it back to him.

“It worked!” Liana whispered when they were through the gate.

Keegan slipped the knife back into his boot. “Of course. They’re as dumb as rocks.”

“Is that why you almost pissed your britches?” Caim asked. Then Keegan saw the faint hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Go sod yourself!”

The wagon coasted to a halt under a huge stone arch straddling the road. Keegan didn’t like looking at the edifice, erected by the Nimeans to commemorate some big battle up north back in his father’s time. It made him feel small, which was something he wrestled with on a daily basis anyway. Everyone climbed out of the wagon. Caim shook hands with the farmer, and coins passed hands. Keegan thought he saw the shine of silver, and hoped he was mistaken. One silver plate was more than the man probably earned in a month. It would make him suspicious, but Caim didn’t appear concerned as he knelt down beside the wagon and retrieved several items, including their weapons and the mysterious bundles he carried. The soldiers hadn’t come close to finding the cache hidden under the wagon bed. Keegan wondered what Caim would have done if the weapons had been found.
Probably something very unpleasant
.

Keegan accepted his sword back, thrust it under his cloak, and took Liana by the elbow. “Good fortune to you,” he said with a nod.

Caim returned the gesture as he slipped the long bundles and bag over his shoulder. He looked just like a normal traveler, except for the nasty scabs down the side of his face. And his eyes.

“Wait.” Liana yanked her arm free. “We can’t just abandon him here in the street, Keegan.”

“We have someplace to be, Li. And so does Caim.”

“Where will he stay? He doesn’t know anyone.”

“I’ll find someplace to bunk down,” Caim said.

“No,” she said. “You can come with us. I’m sure our uncle would let you stay for a couple days, at least until you get on your feet. And you shouldn’t be going off on any expeditions until you’ve had proper time to heal.”

“Li!”

Keegan looked around. Passersby paid them little mind, but the duke’s spies were scattered throughout Liovard like fleas on a dog. His sister was going to land him in trouble with her big mouth. He thought of the blackened bodies on the stakes.

By a stroke of luck, Caim shook his head. “I need to be going. You two be careful.”

Keegan grunted. They should be careful? He knew this city better than any foreigner would. Warlock or not, Caim was the one who needed eyes in the back of his head.

Liana reached out to put a hand on Caim’s arm. “If you change your mind, the shop is in the south ward. Turnstile Lane. Look for a sign with a hammer and two nails.”

Caim nodded. “Farewell.”

Keegan started walking. It was too damned cold to stand around. If his sister didn’t want to follow, that was her problem.
Would serve her right to get lost out here
.

He reached the corner to turn toward the south ward and looked back. Liana was still talking to Caim. Then, as he watched, the foreign killer shook his head. Liana turned and walked away.

When she caught up to him, Keegan asked, “What was that about?”

She didn’t meet his gaze. “Nothing. I’m cold. Let’s go.”

Shrugging his cloak higher around his neck, Keegan headed toward their uncle’s store. Whatever was going on with Liana was her own fault. What was she thinking, following after him in the woods, and now practically begging Caim to come with them? The girl had gone crazy. And he was stuck with her, at least until he could figure a way to get her back home.

Keegan sighed as he tromped through the streets. His responsibilities never seemed to end. But it was good to be back in Liovard again. Although he’d been raised out in the sticks, he loved the feel of the city. Its busy streets, the tall buildings with their roofs sheathed in black wooden slats instead of rotting thatch, the energy of the people as they passed by. When they got rid of the duke and his cronies, he wanted to live here. He could run an ale hall, or a stable. He was good with animals.

He glanced back at Liana, who trudged a few steps behind him, lost in her thoughts. As usual. She never had any dreams, at least none she cared to share with him. She was the most boring person he’d ever known, except maybe his father. Like two bumps on the same log.

As he stepped around a stinking brown puddle, Keegan’s gaze was drawn to the east side of town where the prison house was located. He couldn’t see it from here, down by the riverbank, but he wondered how Caedman was doing, or even if he was still alive. His shame returned. He couldn’t change the past, but maybe he could make up for it.

Keegan looked around for a food vendor to take his mind off his guilt and spotted a group of men pushing through the street ahead. They wore coats of iron scales and carried enough weapons to start a war. Freeswords. Foreigners by their look, Hveklanders or Warmonds. It didn’t matter which; they were both bad news.

“Come on, Li.”

He turned down a side street to avoid the armored men.

“I’m coming,” she replied.

Caim watched Liana walk away. She was only trying to help, but he needed to cut his ties with them. And Keegan seemed to know where he was going.

Caim looked down the street in the opposite direction. He needed a physician, and then someplace he could warm up and get a decent meal. As he started walking he was glad for the dwindling sunlight; it would make moving around easier. He passed a group of young men in heavy wool coats and caps—maybe laborers heading to their favorite watering hole—and decided to follow them.

The city looked different than he remembered; it had loomed so large and forbidding in his memories, and the reality was disappointing. Othir could have swallowed Liovard whole and still had room for a couple more courses. The architecture was an odd mixture of northern and southern styles. The city was laid out like two-thirds of a wheel, with a bare hillock bordered by the river filling the missing space. Atop the tor stood the citadel, a stone fortress dwarfing everything around it. He recalled seeing it when he was a boy. Back then, its concentric walls and square towers had seemed so remote, like the moon or a different world, impossible to reach. Lesser buildings in red and gray stone tumbled down the hillside and surrounding land, intermingled with wooden homes and shops. All in all, the city gave an impression of past glories imposed by distant Nimean emperors. Combined with the antipathy he had received from Keegan’s people, it gave him something to think about.