The Dreamtrails (65 page)

When I saw that we had reached the Street of the Fishmaid, I farsent Rolf, who asked me to warn Iriny. I found her pretending to consider the purchase of a knife from a trader and told her that Domick and the Hedra were just now entering the market.

My probe dislodged when Erit suddenly leapt down beside me, his eyes glittering through the slits of his mask. “Quick,” he said. “We need to get close to the Hedra before Rolf gives the signal.”

“What signal?” I asked, but Erit was already sprinting away. I raced after him, wishing I had asked Rolf more about the diversion.

The market looked almost exactly as it had the previous day, save that it was slightly more crowded and everybody but the small children wore a mask. For a moment, I could do nothing but stare until I remembered myself and began to edge and coerce my way through the masked revelers.

As the Hedra pushed more deeply into the crowd, they were forced to slow down, and soon I was near enough to hear them barking brusque instructions for people to move aside. Those in the crowd were trying to obey, but those behind were pressing forward to see what was happening.

“Any second,” Erit hissed into my ear. “Get right up behind the Hedra
now
. The Lane of the Weaver is behind those two stalls.” He pointed discreetly back the way we had come.

Too anxious to speak, I nodded and coerced two bird-masked men to draw apart so I could slip between them. I was close enough to Domick that I could have reached between the Hedra to touch him, when suddenly I heard a piercing whistle. Instantly, there was pandemonium. At first I thought the crowd had turned on the Hedra, but then I realized the commotion arose from some market stalls right next to us. It was hard to tell, for it seemed that a fight had broken out between two stallholders, but then one of Erit’s urchin friends darted by with a big man pursuing him, screaming with rage.

Then it dawned on me that the hullabaloo was Rolf’s doing. I remembered the bannock seller saying how much Rolf had done for other stallholders, and if I was right, the whistle must have been his signal. I could not imagine how so many people had agreed to help him in the short time since Erit and I had left his house. But as a diversion, the ruckus was impressive and very clever, for it would appear to have nothing to do with the Hedra.

Erit suddenly darted past me and gave the Hedra directly in front of me a hard blow before diving through the legs of the masses of people. The warrior priest snarled a curse and surged after him. He had drawn his metal-shod staff, and now he began to strike at people indiscriminately, driving them back. There was now no one between Domick and me but the remaining Hedra holding fast to his arm.

“Be ready,” Iriny said, slipping past me. I did not see what she did to the Hedra, but he fell like a stone. I darted in and caught Domick’s arm in the same place the Hedra had held
him and drew him gently backward. To my intense relief, he came obediently, seemingly unaware that his keeper had changed.

Heart hammering, I managed to steer him toward the two stalls Erit had indicated, but to my dismay, three soldierguards stood at the end of the Lane of the Weaver, clearly trying to see what was going on. Not daring to show any hesitation that might awaken Domick to the fact that something had changed, I led him to the next street. It was the Lane of the Ropeman, and I farsought Rolf immediately. He bade me go along it to the nearest crossing road and turn left. He would meet me there as soon as he could. The quiet of the lane seemed to reach Domick, and he lifted his head.

He looked exactly as he had in Rolf’s memory, his expression fixed in a rigid mask of horror, save that his deadly pallor was now accentuated by eyes bright with fever surrounded by bruise-dark circles. Something stirred in his expression, a muddy confusion. Was it the mask? I wondered, trying to decide if I ought to remove it and show myself to him.

“Where is … my master?” he mumbled.

Sickened by the knowledge that he could only mean Ariel, I said quickly, “He waits to speak with you.”

“They … they said so. But he said I would not see him again.…”

“There has been a change of plans,” I said with sudden inspiration. Clearly, I had hit the right note, for suddenly the muddiness gave way to a feverish excitement.

“Where is my master?” Domick demanded. His voice was louder now, and I realized that it was not Domick’s voice I heard, yet the voice seemed strangely familiar.

“I will take you to him. Come,” I said, drawing him along
the lane. We had not gone more than a few steps before Domick wrenched himself out of my grasp.

I turned to face him. “What is the matter? We must hurry.”

“I know you!” Domick cried, and he reached out and snatched the mask from my face. His face contorted in horror. “Elspeth Gordie! The beloved.”

Confounded by his words, I stared at Domick. He was not the broken null I had expected, but he was not himself either. He had recognized my voice and my face, but why did he look at me with such violent revulsion? All expression in his face died, and he reached out to me. For one bewildered moment, I thought he meant to embrace me, but then he closed his hot hands about my neck. He was thin and gaunt and ill, but there was a sinewy strength left in him that crushed my throat. He brought his face close to mine, his breath foul, and I felt the heat of his fever like a blast from a fire pit.

“You will not interfere with my master’s plans,” he said. Grief and rage and terror shuddered over his features in maniacal progression, and then the blankness returned and he squeezed. “I am the instrument of my master!” he bellowed in my face, and even while I fought to tear his fingers from my neck, I was afraid of the noise he was making. I struggled hard, trying to claw Domick’s hands to loosen their deadly grip, but they were slick with sweat, and I could not get any purchase. Shadows began to flutter at the edge of my vision.

Desperate, I struck out at Domick’s face. He flinched instinctively, letting go of me with one hand. I caught the flying hand and clung to it, though the fingers of his other hand still dug into my throat.

“We were friends, Domick!” I rasped, now that I could get a bit of breath.

Domick flinched. Then he snarled, “Shut up! I am not
Domick. Domick is dead. I am … I am Mika,” Domick said, his fingers slackening slightly.

I stared at him in disbelief. I had been with Domick once when he had taken on his spy persona of Mika, and it had chilled me to see how much he became that cold arrogant man. Obviously, whatever Ariel had done to Domick had destroyed his mind so only this invented self remained. That was why I had recognized the voice and manner.

Suddenly, Domick’s face blazed with anguish, and he threw me away from him so violently that I fell to my knees. By the time I had scrambled to my feet, he was running awkwardly along the lane away from the square. He had almost reached the crossroad when a man stepped out leading the biggest horse I had ever seen. He wore a simple mask of black inlaid with metal, but his powerful shoulders and wooden leg told me it was Rolf.

I could not cry out to him, so I beastspoke the startled horse. “I am ElspethInnle! Do not let the running funaga through!”

Domick seemed not even to see the enormous beast who lowered its great shaggy head and butted him backward into a door. His head struck it with a sickening crunch, and he crumpled unconscious at its base.

As I reached him, a woman opened the door and gaped down. Before she could scream, I coerced her ruthlessly and sent her back inside. Rolf knelt by me and bade me give him the sleep potion. He dribbled a few drops onto the pad and held it over the coercer’s mouth. Rolf then fetched a length of canvas from Golfur’s back and, unfurling it, rolled Domick onto it. He wrapped him up in a neat parcel, open at his head so he could breathe, and between us we lifted him onto Golfur’s back. I would never have managed it without the metalworker, for the horse was even bigger than he had looked from
a distance. I had thought the term
greathorse
was the name for a west coast breed, but now I realized it was merely a description. I dug in the saddlebags for my heavy shoes and the cap Erit had given me. There was also a simple mask to replace the distinctive cat mask. I removed the cloak. Exchanging the delicate slippers for my heavy shoes and retrieving the mask that Domick had knocked away, I wrapped them in the cloak.

In the meantime, Rolf arranged bundles and parcels on Golfur’s back until Domick’s form was all but concealed. “How is he?” the metalworker asked when he had finished.

“I don’t know if he is infectious,” I said, handing him the mask and slippers wrapped in the cloak.

Rolf shrugged. “I suppose we will know soon enough.” He took the bundle and shot me an inquiring look. “You beastspoke Golfur to ask his aid?”

I nodded, glancing anxiously about us to make sure no one had entered the lane. Rolf shook his head in wonder, then looped his hands and bade me climb up onto the greathorse and go.

“Iriny …”

“I will make sure she is safe. You concentrate on your friend. Get him out of the city. If we live, I expect to have your story someday.”

I put one foot into his hands, and he hoisted me up into the saddle.

“Thank you,” I said with a rush of gratitude for this good man.

“Go!” Rolf said again, slapping the greathorse. The beast turned to administer a large affectionate lick before ambling off along the street. It was not a moment too soon, for even as we passed into a wider street, a troop of soldierguards came hurtling along, bristling with weapons.

T
O MY RELIEF
, Golfur knew the way to the nearest gate, so I had no need to remember the instructions Rolf had given that morning. I had only to sit on his back as he moved through a crowd that parted to give him room and seemed to accept his size more readily than I could. As we made our stately progress through the streets, I calmed down enough to send a probe to Erit, who immediately began to crow with delight at hearing I was leaving the city with Domick. When I expressed my concern for the trouble I had left behind, he assured me with high good humor that the fracas in the market had abated as mysteriously as it had begun, leaving puzzled revelers and some furious and dismayed Hedra who were now ranting to a troop of soldierguards about the loss of a priest they had been escorting to the piers.

Erit explained that the signal Rolf had given was actually a long-established signal to all stallholders that one of their number was under threat. They had discovered that direct intervention, especially if soldierguards or Hedra were involved, would end up in the person trying to help being imprisoned, too. It had been Rolf’s idea that if there was enough unrelated confusion, the person in difficulties would have a far better chance of slipping away. Each of the stallholders had come up with his or her own specialty when help was needed, and each could be evoked with a different signal.

I marveled at Rolf’s cleverness and wondered that such a man could be a mere metalworker, yet in the end, a man was not his trade or craft. Erit went on to tell me that the soldierguards, who had raced to the market believing they were to face a violent rebel outbreak, were more amused than anything else by the anger of the haughty Hedra, for there was a niggling sort of rivalry between them. Naturally, the ill-concealed amusement of the soldierguards incensed the Hedra, just as it was meant to do. Now the Hedra captain was shouting at the soldierguard captain, Erit reported, demanding their help in finding Domick.

I left Erit and sought Iriny and Rolf. Failing to find them, I returned to Erit. The boy was still absorbed by the confrontation in the market. I bade him give my thanks to his urchin friends for their help and my regrets to Iriny that there had been no time to bid her a proper farewell. Then I withdrew and concentrated on what to do when we reached the gate.

I had no fear that there would be anyone looking for Domick when we passed through. It was too soon, and from what Erit said, the bad blood between the Hedra and the soldierguards would cause even greater delay. I ought to have been as elated as Erit at our success, but Domick’s fever and grogginess made me fear that the plague might be nearer to becoming contagious than we had guessed. After all, we knew nothing about this disease.

Golfur ambled into another street, and I was surprised to see the gate. Only one man was waiting to leave with an empty cart, and he passed out even before we reached the gate. A great long line of people and horses and wagons waited to be admitted, and all of the soldierguards at the gate save one were tending them.

Beyond the gate, the tawny plain stretched away under an enameled blue sky unmarred by a single cloud, and I felt a surge of eagerness to be out in the open and away from the press of people and the reek of the squalid city. Even so, I beastspoke Golfur, asking him to slow down, for I wanted to try one last time to reach Rolf or Iriny. I still could not locate the metalworker, but this time when I sought Iriny, my probe located. To my horror, she was in the hands of the soldierguards, because several people had witnessed her striking the Hedra, and she was unmistakably a gypsy.