Shadow’s Lure (46 page)

A horseman rode down the street and stopped at the gate where Captain Drathan kept vigil. The captain had been against her coming out so late, but Josey had overruled him. She needed to get away from the palace, which had begun to feel like a prison. Voices murmured, and then someone entered the yard. She was surprised to see it was Hubert. She’d left him in his office to work out the details of their Akeshian problem.

“Majesty,” he said as he approached. “I’ve just received word from the north.”

Josey’s stomach fluttered. “Word from Caim?”

“No, from the unit that was sent to the border. Colonel Restian reports that his company was attacked near Durenstile by brigands, or men disguised as brigands. There seems to be some uncertainty on the matter. But the colonel has retreated to the town to await reinforcements.”

Another horseman cantered up to the gate.
Reinforcements?
She didn’t have enough soldiers to keep the peace here in Othir. What could she do for Colonel Restian?

“How long can they hold out?”

“The town is well fortified,” Hubert answered. “But provisions will become a problem unless we establish a supply line.”

“Send a message to Duke Mormaer. Ask what aid he can send.”

“Mormaer may be reluctant to volunteer additional resources, having just sent a levy of troops to quell the problems in the west. Perhaps Count Dervest of Valia could be persuaded to help. I believe his wife is from one of the border provinces.”

“Ask them both. And draw up a list of other lords who have ties to the north. Maybe we can string together a coalition …”

Josey let the words fade away as Captain Drathan rushed across the dead grass, a hand clamped on the pommel of his sword. She couldn’t bear any more bad news. Her insides felt as delicate as spun glass.

The captain made a quick salute. “There is trouble on the Opuline, Majesty. Lord Farthington’s estate is under siege by a mob of rioters.”

Anastasia!

Josey fought to keep her voice from trembling. “Is anyone hurt?”

“Not that we’ve heard, but the crowd is sizable and determined. The estate will fall if something is not done.”

Josey headed for the gate. “Captain, assemble the guardsmen to meet us on the way to Opuline Hill.”

“Majesty, I don’t advise—”

“Do as I ask, or turn in your commission.”

He saluted and sprinted ahead of her, calling his men to arms. Josey was glad she’d worn her riding leathers as she shrugged off her bulky jacket. She thrust it into Hubert’s arms as he jogged to keep up.

“Majesty, this is a matter for the watch.”

“Then why aren’t they handling it?”

He grimaced. “I admit that may be a problem, but your friendship with the Lady Farthington is well known. This attack may be a trap meant to—”

“I’m going, Hubert.”

Hirsch appeared as Josey exited the gate. Her bodyguards waited, their weapons bared. The adept cleared his throat.

“Let me go ahead and check it out, lass. Before you ride out all hot and bothered.”

Josey shot him a look that must have been fierce, because it shut him up without further comment. Hubert opened his mouth.

She held up a finger. “Don’t say it.”

“I’m going with you.”

Josey paused. She could see the vehemence in his gaze. “I—I’m flattered, Lord Chancellor, but perhaps you should return to the palace. I believe Captain Drathan can handle my protection.”

“Majesty, I insist.” He stammered when she arched an eyebrow. “I mean, please allow me to go.”

Josey turned toward the horses. “All right, Hubert. But we must leave at once.”

Captain Drathan waited with a pair of soldiers in battered scale armor.

“We’re ready, Majesty,” the captain said. “I sent word to strip every man-at-arms from their post. These are the men who brought the message. Major Volek and Sergeant Merts. They recently arrived from Mecantia.”

One of the soldiers was quite large, bigger even than Markus had been, while the other was only an inch or two taller than she was. Both had firm, deep-set eyes that reminded her of Caim. Hard men. Not the kind to disintegrate under pressure. Each had a sigil of a jungle cat in red enamel stamped over their hearts.

“I don’t recognize your insignia,” Josey said.

“We’re Crimson Tigers, ma’am,” the sergeant said. “Army special tactics and reconnaissance.”

“We would like to ride with you, Majesty,” the major said. “If you’ll have us.”

“Fine,” Josey said. “Now let’s go.”

A trooper stood ready with her steed. Just the sight of the magnificent gray stallion made her blood quicken. True to his name, Lightning had required every ounce of her skill to manage on their short rides around the palace grounds. Now she would see if she had truly mastered him. Stepping onto the box provided, she slid into the high-cantled saddle. As soon as her toes touched the stirrups, the stallion jerked sideways.

“Easy, big boy,” she whispered. “Don’t make me regret this.”

She settled into the seat as the soldier handed up the reins. The stallion’s ears twitched, but he stopped fidgeting. With the captain leading, they rode down the Esquiline’s broad avenues to the base of the hill, where they met the rest of her bodyguards. Josey looked over them. Three score men, but they looked pitifully few for the task. Major Volek and Sergeant Merts sat apart on tall, broad-chested warhorses.

Captain Drathan approached her. “At your order, Majesty.”

“Ride, Captain. And let nothing stop us.”

At his command, the soldiers filed past the rows of darkened homes. Josey was afforded a place in their center. Hirsch, his face hidden within the hood of his cloak, rode on one side of her, and Hubert on the other. The Crimson Tigers followed behind. When Josey glanced over her shoulder, Major Volek winked through the slit of his lowered visor.

The streets resounded with the noise of the company, the horses’ steel shoes ringing against the hard stones like a continuous peal of thunder. The forward riders galloped ahead to clear a path, even though the streets were empty. Here, where the feet of the five hills of Othir met, the palaces of venerable noble families lined wide boulevards. Beyond the walls surrounding the manors they passed, Josey caught glimpses of expansive gardens and parks.
The city has two faces. This one is like a beautiful dream. And the other, torn by violence and pillage, is a nightmare. Can they ever be reconciled?
She didn’t know, and that apprehension created a cold lump in her chest.

The company passed through a string of plazas. As they passed through the largest, the Pleazzo, with its quartet of famous Sighing Fountains splashing in the empty silence, Josey’s thoughts went to the emperors who had ruled this city before her. History spoke of the hardships they had faced. Would the line end with her? It was a daunting thought.

They rode out of the Pleazzo and up the Opuline Way. Refuse filled the street. Broken windows watched their passage with jagged stares. A boutique specializing in ladies’ hats had been gutted; wreaths of smoke rose from its blackened remains. With a start, Josey recognized the store. She had bought a hat here just months ago, but it seemed like an eternity. That was the day she had met Hubert for the first time, the day her life had changed forever. Josey looked up at the skyline. The hill rose steeply for several blocks before leveling off in a rounded plateau, its summit occupied by gate-lined avenues and haughty manors. When High Town was first built, the richest families had settled here on the Opuline, which offered the best views of the countryside beyond the city’s walls.

As Captain Drathan led the company up the boulevard, a wild susurrus filled the air. Josey stood up in her stirrups to see over the shoulders of her guards. Clouds of black smoke blanketed the hilltop. Hubert and then Hirsch urged their steeds ahead, and Major Volek and Sergeant Merts came up on either side of her. She tried to make eye contact with the soldiers, but both men’s gazes were focused on the streets, the rooftops, the alleyways.
Just like Caim
.

She remembered watching Caim sleep in their room at Madam Sanya’s brothel, how he had tossed and twitched like a man possessed by horrible nightmares. She longed to feel his strong arms around her.

A wail snapped Josey’s attention toward the front of the company. Grand mansions clad in marble and granite rose along the avenue. Household guards congregated behind their stout gates, but so far these manors looked to have escaped the wrath of the rioters. The smoke lay farther up. The pall lay thickest ahead, where a massive statue marked the center of Torvelli Square. Fear wrapped its iron fingers around Josey’s throat as the vanguard of her soldiers accelerated into a canter.

Josey could see Anastasia’s home now. A mob of people surrounded its stone walls; the iron gates heaved back and forth under their press. As she watched, a burning torch sailed over the wall and struck somewhere inside. A moment later, another pillar of smoke added to the haze surrounding the house. At Captain Drathan’s command, the company halted a hundred paces from the mob. He turned in his saddle to look back at her. She barely caught his words over the din.

“What are your orders?”

Josey squeezed the reins in her hands until she thought her fingers might break. They had come this far, but now she didn’t know what to do. If she unleashed her soldiers, people would die. Her people. But if she held back, Anastasia’s family might be killed. Josey searched for a bloodless solution, but after several heartbeats of observing the fury of the mob as it attacked the manor gates she understood the truth: there was no peaceful resolution. She had to decide whether to act and be responsible for the deaths that occurred, or do nothing. Hubert met her gaze; there was anguish in his eyes, which shocked her a little. She’d had no idea he felt so strongly. Still, the choice was hers.

The power over life and death. That is rulership. I’ve never wanted anything to do with it, but here I am
.

Josey pointed forward. “Advance, Captain! If any oppose you”—she took a deep breath and let it out in a silent gasp—“do what must be done.”

With a nod, the captain closed his visor and led the soldiers forward. At the first contact with the mob, Josey tried to steel herself, but the screams and shouts that filled the avenue sliced through her defenses. One hand placed over her belly, she flinched with every blow that landed. Her blood cooled with every body that fell to the ground until her insides felt frozen. But with the cold came detachment.

“Caution, lass,” Hirsch whispered at her ear.

Josey nodded, but in her heart she knew there was no such thing. Caim had taught her that. She pictured him beside her now, his mouth twisted into a cocky smirk. The image banished her fears.
No caution and no fear
.

Using her knees, she pressed her steed to follow the soldiers into the swirling melee.

It seemed like days had passed, or perhaps weeks, but in truth the sun’s glow through the clouds had hardly moved across the dreary sky by the time they won through to the gates.

Josey, surrounded by five blood-spattered men including Major Volek, sat astride her horse as her bodyguards cordoned off the area around the manor entrance. One of the iron gates had crashed inward; the other stood as a mute observer to the morning’s repugnant events. Seven of her soldiers lay dead upon the clay bricks. More than forty citizens were sprawled beside them, their limbs arranged in a mockery of sleep. Josey wiped a hand across her face to hide the wetness gathering in her eyes.

The fighting had been fierce from the onset. One moment her guardsmen were advancing at a steady trot; the next moment the mob turned as if united by a single brain and swarmed. Inside her cocoon of protectors, Josey was afforded the opportunity to watch her bodyguards in action. They remained cool and professional even when the orderly action devolved into sheer butchery. The citizens were armed with clubs and bottles, but soon after the first flush of battle, a group of better-armed men emerged from the crowd, and Josey glimpsed the gleam of mail armor under bulky robes as the mob moved to engulf her position. If not for the ferocity of her bodyguards as well as the relentless efforts of the two Tigers, they would have been pulled under the tide of bodies. In the end, it had not been Volek and Merts or even Captain Drathan who turned the tide, but Master Hirsch, and not in the brutal manner she would have imagined.