Storms of Destiny (48 page)

“… cannot take chances with our leader,” Talis was saying, her voice pitched low, but not whispering. “Castio will meet with you, he told me to tell you that, but at a place of
his
choosing. We will lead you there, when the watch changes at the Governor’s palace. Meet us in the alley behind the Blue Boar.”

“Lead us?” the taller of the two Chonao protested, in strongly accented Pelanese. “I like not that. We find our own way—”

“You’ll be blindfolded,” Talis said at the same moment as the other Chonao said softly to his partner, in their own language, “Shut up, fool. She’s our only link to Castio. Let them have their little spy games!”

Jezzil clumsily brushed his lips across Thia’s cheek. He’d never realized that women were so much softer-skinned than men …

The second Chonao cleared his throat. His Pelanese was even worse than his companion’s. “Forgive my comrade,” he said haltingly, “soldiers, he and I, not … ambassador. We are not accustomed to … I forget the word … this kind of … mission.”

“If you want to speak with Castio personally, it must be this way,” Denno said. “No exceptions.”

Thia had relaxed slightly, curving her back so it fit into the circle of his arm. Jezzil gathered her closer, nuzzled her ear, and found himself touching the skin behind it with the tip of his tongue. She shivered but did not pull away.

“So tell us what is going on with Kerezau,” Talis said.

“How many troops does your Redai actually have?”

“Many,” the first Chonao said curtly.

“
How
many, the lady asked you?” Denno said. “If you’ve naught but a handful of seasick troops, you haven’t a hope of taking Pela, even if we Katans ally with you.”

“Pela will be ours, rebel,” the second Chonao said curtly.

“And Kata will be
ours
,” Talis said, an edge in her voice.

“Of course,” the first Chonao said.

“The Redai understands this,” the second Chonao added.

Jezzil gathered Thia even closer, almost without thinking.

Her hair brushed his nose. It was soft, feathery against his skin, his cheek, his mouth. The soft flesh of her upper arm was warm against his palm.

The first Chonao must have raised his tankard. “A toast!”

he exclaimed in Pelanese. “Our friendship.”

“To our friendship,” echoed Talis and Denno.

“To our victory,” the second Chonao said in his own tongue.

Jezzil found himself softly kissing Thia’s cheek, his lips moving toward her mouth. Her skin was so soft, so pale, and she smelled faintly sweet, as though she had somehow mag-icked that sour wine into honey.

She moved suddenly in his arms, pushing at him. “Jezzil!

Jezzil!
”

He opened his eyes and let her go, sitting back in the booth. “What? Wh—” His heart was hammering and he was so aroused he felt dazed, incoherent.

She regarded him, wide-eyed and flushed. “Come on, we have to go.”

“Go?” he repeated, trying to buy time. He didn’t want to stand up at the moment.

“Did that wine go to your head?” She gestured at the booth behind him. “They’re gone! Talis signaled to me to meet her outside!”

“Oh!” Heat scorched his face, but the embarrassment helped his other predicament. She slithered out of the booth and a moment later he followed her.

Outside, the street was empty save for a few drunken sailors. Moments later they heard a soft hiss from the nearby alley and found Talis there, waiting for them. She was pacing agitatedly, using short steps to stay in the shadows. “What took you so long?” she challenged, then went on without waiting for an answer. “Jezzil, did they say anything? I don’t trust them. But I can’t go to Castio with just a hunch.”

Jezzil ran back over the conversation in his mind. “Not really,” he said slowly. “But there was one remark, something about you being the only way to reach Castio, so they had to put up with your little spy game. It sounded …” He shrugged. “… not quite right,” he finished lamely.

Talis scowled. “Hell spawn! I need something definite.

Were they really Chonao?”

“Yes.” Of that Jezzil had no doubt.

“For a while I was wondering if perhaps they were Pelanese assassins, sent here to kill Castio. He’ll be surrounded by guards tonight, just in case.”

“They were Chonao,” Jezzil said. “What would it profit them to kill Castio?”

Thia spoke up for the first time. “They’d gain nothing by that,” she pointed out. “They need Castio. The Redai sent

them as emissaries to Castio, to forge an alliance. Why should they kill him? That would just benefit King Agivir.”

Jezzil glanced at her, experienced a strong flash of memory as he saw her lips, then felt himself flush. He was glad it was dark. She had avoided looking at him, he realized.

“There’s nothing for it except for you to take them to Castio, making sure he’s well guarded,” Thia added. “Then, after the meeting, Jezzil can follow them and listen to them.”

“Can you?” Talis fixed Jezzil with an intent glance.

He nodded. “Easily.”

“You cannot be seen, much less caught,” she warned. “If they suspect, then we—”

“You don’t understand,” Thia interrupted. “Show her, Jezzil.”

Now that he knew the correct place in his mind, it was so easy.

Jezzil stepped back, and as he did so, surrounded himself with the Casting. He saw Talis react, heard her gasp. “Goddess! He’s a sorcerer!”

Jezzil dropped the Casting. “Barely a fledgling one,” he said. “But in addition to being able to Cast, I was Pen Jav Dal. I will follow them and listen to all they say, and I will not be seen.”

After Talis left them, Jezzil insisted on escorting Thia back to Khith’s residence. He knew that, even now, she was afraid of large crowds and drunken men, and the streets were full of both. He had just time enough to gulp down the plate of food the housekeeper had saved for him before it was time to go back to the Blue Boar.

He surrounded himself with a Casting and was careful to step softly when he reached the appointed alley. He saw the two Chonao waiting there, smoking pipes but not speaking.

Talis came along a moment later, with Denno and another man. Jezzil watched as they blindfolded the two Chonao and escorted them along the back alleys toward the meeting place.

Their destination proved to be a cellar down near the docks. The closer to the waterfront they went, the more noisome and narrow the alleys became. Jezzil was invisible, but his eyesight was the same as when he was visible, and he was not trailing the others closely enough to be able to pick his way by the faint, shuttered light of the dark lantern Talis carried.

Once, he tripped over a dead cat, and his boot splashed into a pool of foul smelling liquid. Jezzil froze, breathing through his mouth.

The two Chonao stopped dead.

“What was that?” the taller one snapped.

“I heard it, too,” Talis said, glancing behind her.

Moving slowly and carefully, Jezzil bent down and picked up a chunk of rotten wood. He drew back his arm and lobbed it over the fence into the nearby backyard of one of the tene-ments. A torrent of furious barking ensued.

Talis let out a long breath. “Just a dog,” she said, tugging on the arm of the Chonao she was leading.

Jezzil followed at an even greater distance.

When they reached the cellar that proved to be their destination, and were safely down the steps and out of sight, Jezzil dared to relax the Casting and lean against the side of the tenement. He was tired, and his newly healed leg was throbbing.

Like any experienced soldier, he could doze standing up, but the moment he heard the door scrape, some unknown time later, he was alert. Concentrating, he resumed the Casting and watched.

Talis and the others appeared, leading the two Chonao, who were again blindfolded. They headed away from the tenement, weaving their way through back streets and alleys, occasionally turning and backtracking, to further disguise their route. Jezzil was growing very tired and by the time they stopped on the edge of the main thoroughfare that led back into the heart of the city, he had to strain his abilities to maintain the Casting.

“And here we leave you, gentlemen,” Talis said, removing the taller Chonao’s blindfold. “Good evening to you.”

The other Chonao had his blindfold off before Denno could remove it. “Good evening to you, mistress,” he said.

Talis beckoned to her compatriots, and the three walked away without looking back.

At last Jezzil was alone with his quarry.

It was obvious that the two Chonao were tired. They walked slowly, shoulders slumped. By now the streets were deserted, so Jezzil had to hang far back, lest they hear his boots scrape against a cobblestone. The only light was cast by the streetlamps, and the only sound was the far-off wailing of a wakeful infant.

He followed the two men as they walked in silence, thinking that the entire night had been a waste. Talis must be imagining things. There was no plot here.

The Chonao headed uptown, still not speaking. They approached the better section of town, only a few blocks from Khith’s house, and Jezzil considered just going home. He was so tired that maintaining the Casting was becoming painful.

Yet, he had promised Talis. He gritted his teeth and hung on, determined to at least see where the Chonao were staying.

They were quartered at the Seaview Inn, one of Q’Kal’s better transient establishments. Jezzil followed them as they approached it, promising himself that he would drop the Casting the moment they were inside.

The taller one spoke for the first time in half an hour.

“Succeeding on this mission should bring us both a promo-tion, you know.”

“It had better,” his companion replied sourly. “Dealing with stinking traitors isn’t my idea of a good time. That old eunuch Agivir is no match for Castio and his crew.”

“But the Redai will be,” the taller man said, opening the door and fishing in his pocket for a key. “More than a match for Castio and his rebels.”

“Shhhh!” warned the other as they entered the inn. “We’ll have to—”

The door closed.

Jezzil managed to stumble behind a huge ornamental bush that was covered with ghostly white blooms before he dropped the Casting. He sank down, exhausted and panting.

His injured leg cramped, the muscles knotting until he rocked back and forth in agony. He forced himself to point his toes up, then massaged his calf, gasping with the pain.

Talis is right. Something is wrong. Something is very
wrong.

Eregard lay wakeful, praying as he had never prayed before.

Goddess, help me. Tomorrow is Market Day. Help me be sold
to the Governor’s household. Let me stay in Q’Kal. Please.

I’ll dedicate a new altar of the finest green marble to you if
you will only help me!

He rolled over on his truckle bed, hearing Talis’s soft breathing and Thia’s faint snores from the bed above him.

Tomorrow is Market Day. Goddess, help me.

Something struck the window frame. Eregard tensed, then heard it again. He rose up on his elbow, and the next pebble sailed through the open window and landed on his leg. It stung.

The slave crawled over to the window, dragging his leg-chain. The night was dark, moonless. Only the faint glow of a distant streetlamp illuminated a figure standing in the courtyard of the inn. Eregard saw the figure’s arm move and managed to dodge the next flung pebble. “Who’s there?” he hissed. “Jezzil, is that you?”

“Of course it is!” The Chonao sounded exhausted and ill-tempered. “You all sleep like logs! Let me in, I have to talk to you!”

“We’ll come down,” Eregard promised. “Just a moment.”

When he turned, his chain thunked, then made dragging noises as he moved across the floor. Eregard cursed under his breath. He reached the bed and leaned over to shake Talis’s shoulder. “Talis! Mistress! Wake up!”

“Wh—” She rolled over and sat up. She had a soldier’s quick alertness at being awakened suddenly. “What is it?”

“Jezzil is down in the courtyard. He says he has to talk to you, it’s important.”

“Tell him we’ll be right down,” she promised.

A few minutes later the small group was huddled in the hay stall in the barn, away from the night breeze, speaking in hushed voices. The only light came from the starlight coming in through the barred window, and Talis’s dark lantern.

Eregard listened as Jezzil described his experience following the two Chonao.

“So,” he finished, “while I can’t be sure what they’re planning, it seems evident that they aren’t negotiating in good faith.”

“It sounds like the Redai is planning to use Castio and our people to help him conquer Pela, then he’ll turn around and take over Kata, too,” Talis said, brushing her black hair back from her eyes. “I
knew
there was something wrong with those two!”

“If Kerezau is on his way to Pela using the Meptalith fishing fleet as transportation, this will destroy the treaty between Meptalith and Pela,” Eregard said. “That means the Redai must have made an alliance with the islands. Their little vessels can sail rings around the big navy ships. They can put in at quiet coves where larger vessels can’t. Kerezau could land a lot of troops that way. The northeastern shore of Pela would be ideal for his purposes.”

Talis and Jezzil turned to regard him, their surprise at his analysis plain. Eregard smiled grimly. “The question is, what, if anything, should we do about this?”

“I’ll have to talk to Castio,” Talis said. “Warn him that the Chonao aren’t negotiating in good faith.”

“What do you think Castio should do?”

“I think he should have those two killed,” Jezzil said.

“Kill them and dump the bodies where no one will find them. That will delay things a bit, while the Redai waits in vain for their return.”

Talis nodded. “Good idea. I’ll tell him that. And I think Castio should send an emissary to Pela, warning Agivir that Kerezau is planning an invasion.”

Jezzil looked from Talis to Eregard in the dim light. “And who will Kata side with, should that happen?”

“Pela,” both said, almost in unison. Eregard glanced at Talis and gave her a wry smile and a nod. “Better the enemy we know, the enemy that spawned us, rather than a new enemy we have no tie with,” Talis added.