The False Martyr (56 page)

“
You’re not going to have
him killed?”

“
Of course not. He is
exactly what we need.”

“
But he’s organizing
resistance to your rule. He plans to disrupt the transport of goods
to the Darthur. He wants to start uprisings in the cities. He wants
farmers to smuggle out their food before you can claim it. You
heard all this from Ambassador an’ Pmalatir. You can’t doubt his
sources.”

Ipid watched Eia. Was she,
for some reason, pushing too hard after having been terrified of
his overreaction? “Those things will happen with or without Allard
Stully. But that’s not what he wants. He wants to be Chancellor,
and I will give him that gladly if he gives me what I want in
return.”

“
And what is that?”
Ambassador an’ Pmalatir asked.

“
Time,” Ipid answered.
“All I ask for is time.”

Chapter 33

The
32
^nd
Day of Summer

Whereas Wildern was a
single city divided by a river, Gorin was two cities separated by a
border that happened to be a river. Gorin East, on the Liandrin
side, was by far the larger. It stretched down the backside of a
hundred foot granite cliff that stood out like a knuckle, forcing
even the mighty Alta to divert around it. Blocked by that face of
white granite, the city was visible from the Orm only as a great
fortress perched atop the hill and the requisite docks, warehouses,
inns, and boarding houses that clung to the river on either side.
Hidden behind the sparkling cliff was a wealthy trade city known
for the bright colors of the tile roofs that issued down the side
of the hill in a meandering zag. It was by no means the largest
city in Liandria, but it was one of the wealthiest. A major point
for trade, surrounded by fertile land, protected from the river’s
tantrums, it was strong and prosperous and beautiful.

On the other side of the
Alta, just below the muddy flats where the Orm joined it, was Gorin
West. Set on a low, open plain that was ideally suited for the
ravages of floods and invading armies, Gorin West had been
destroyed by one or the other with such regularity throughout its
history that it now stood as a monument to human obstinance. Yet
even the most pigheaded have a limit to their intractability. Gorin
West was no exception. Though it continued to exist and even
expand, there was almost nothing permanent about it.
A small, squat block of a fortress on its only
hill served as its administrative center. Arrayed around it were
the city’s few established structures: the houses of the wealthy,
the commerce and financial districts, and the temple. The rest of
it was a slapdash of shanty buildings, quickly constructed and
easily abandoned. Surrounded by marshes, it was little more
than
a city of teamsters, of warehouses,
docks, wagons, and the people who worked them. Goods arrived from
the southern Kingdoms, were loaded on ships, and transported up
either the Orm or Alta. Taxes were levied, fees paid, crews hired,
and the goods moved on, leaving only the slightest portion of their
value behind in the city that had helped them on their way. Like
the urchin boy given a slip of copper to fetch a hired coach, so
was Gorin West: small, ragged, stinking, and happy to be of
service.

Dasen had no intention of
visiting Gorin West. He planned to bring their boat into the docks
at Gorin East, abandon it, and go immediately to his father’s
office in the city. The people there could then arrange their
transport to Liandria – far from the invaders, the creatures, and
their pasts. He had been dreaming about it ever since they’d
drifted through Wildern eight days ago. He had counted the miles
and dreamed about the beds, the meals, the safety they would find
there. Yet more than anything, he hoped that it would save Teth,
that being clean and safe and fed would bring her back from
whatever pit had claimed her.

Dasen was watching Teth at
the front of the boat, fly swarming around her that she barely had
the energy to swat, when the great white bluff that marked Gorin
East first caught the sun, sparkling like a diamond in the
distance. No sight had ever been so welcome, and he nearly jumped
from his perch at the rudder when he saw that glimmer in the
distance. “There it is, Teth,” he crowed. “Do you see that shining?
‘Like a diamond at the river’s end.’ That’s what they say about
Gorin East. Doesn’t it look like a diamond, shining there at the
end of the river?”

She did not share his
enthusiasm. Saying nothing, not even catching his eyes, she stood
and shambled down the ladder into the hold, leaving his
exhortations for the river, the trees, and the sky.

He let out a breath, felt
his anger turn to helplessness and loss for the hundredth
time.
Please, let there be someone in
Gorin that can help. Please, let it be soon,
he prayed. No bigger than the speck of a diamond it
resembled, the city was still miles away. It would take hours to
reach it. After ten days on the river, Dasen knew they would float
by like torture.

Already rumbling, his
stomach reminded him that he had finished the last remnant of their
food last night – a handful of barley cooked into a flavorless
mush. The nuts and dried fruit had run out two days before, the
vegetables days before that. The last of the fishing hooks from the
equipment in the hold had been lost shortly after Aylesford, not
that they had ever caught anything but snags. They’d been on tight
rations for days, trying to save enough to complete the trip, and
he was always hungry. He could only imagine how Teth felt. It was
only her, largely untouched, portions that were keeping him going –
she had eaten next to nothing since he had dropped her into the
boat.

Just like the first few
days, she spent her time sitting on her perch at the front of the
boat or sleeping in the hold. When she did emerge, she was
lifeless, shoulders slumped, spine bent, limbs loose, seeming to
lack even a glimmer of the strength that was her hallmark. She ate
little, talked less, did not bathe, bush her crudely chopped hair,
or wash the one set of clothes she had worn for nearly two weeks.
And she did not let Dasen anywhere near her – not that he wanted to
be near her in her current state. She smelled such that he could
barely enter the hold. Her clothes were greasy and sweat stained.
He could only imagine what was living in her matted hair. And there
seemed to be nothing that he could do to help her – begging,
rationalizing, yelling, cajoling only left her in tears. It had put
them in a pattern of mutual avoidance that left Dasen feeling
lonelier than if he’d been alone in truth.

Steering smoothly around a
small island, remaining in the river’s main channel, Dasen saw
something that ended his thoughts of Teth.
At first, it looked like a chip had broken away from the
diamond on the horizon and was coming toward them. As he stared,
that chip broke and broke again and again until the expanse of the
river seemed to be composed of shifting white shapes, growing
slowly on the surface of the water. It took Dasen far too long to
realize that they were sails, and to his great surprise, they were
getting bigger. After Wildern, he’d watched the sails of many
passing boats grow distant. He had never seen them get
closer.

At Aylesford, there had
been so many boats that the river was nearly impassable. They had
been so thick that they had used every mooring and resorted to
tying to each other. Dasen had considered joining them, but they
had no money, no valuables, no connections, and if the docks were
any indication, the city was already overrun. So it was that they
simply allowed Aylesford to drift by just as they had done in
Wildern. The multitude of boats that passed them in the days
that
followed seemed to validate that
decision. Many of those had used poles or sails to propel them, but
Dasen had no confidence in his ability to do anything more than
steer, and Teth was not likely to do even that, so he settled for
the leisurely pace of the river itself. And even those boats had
steadily decreased in number until the last had passed them two
days ago. They’d been alone ever since. So why were boats now going
up the river?

Soldiers
, he realized.
Soldiers sailing up the river to face the
invaders
. That was the only reasonable
explanation. It sent him searching for cover. As much
as he appreciated what those men were doing, he
had no desire to draw the attention, or be in the way of, an army
on the move, so he turned the rudder and steered them into an
island standing out as a great clump of trees and weeds in the
river’s center.

“
Teth,” he yelled, “there
are boats coming toward us, up the river.” He paused. There was no
answer. “By the look of it, there are at least twenty of them, and
they’re definitely getting closer. We’re going to hide.” Another
pause. No response. “There’s an island that will keep us from being
seen from in front. They’ll notice us as they go by but will have
to turn around if they want to bother us. You should be ready just
in case.” The words were wasted. Teth wouldn’t do anything even if
there were something to do.
Might as well
be talking to yourself
, he
chastised.

The boat came into the
island. Dasen turned the rudder hard and let the current swing the
back of the boat around. The bushes, it turned out, were hanging
over water, and the boat was nearly lost as their branches consumed
the majority of the deck. Securing the rudder with a cord of rope,
Dasen ran to the front, dodging thorn-covered branches, tied them
off, and waited.

It took longer than he
expected for the first of the boats to pass. It was a long, low
barge three times the width of theirs and twice as long with
platforms running along each of the sides and a single large sail
rising from a tall mast. The sail was billowed with the westerly
breeze, while five men on each side used poles to propel the vessel
further. From his angle, Dasen could not tell much about the ship
beyond its means of propulsion, but he could imagine it was full of
soldiers, a legion preparing to defend their homes against the
invaders. He wanted to yell his encouragements to them but kept his
hopes confined to silent prayers.

That vessel was followed
by twenty-two others all of similar design and propulsion, all
riding almost impossibly low in the water. Several of the men with
the poles looked their way, a few pointed, a couple waved, a
captain frowned, but they otherwise paid them as much attention as
any advancing column gives to the refugees they force from the
road.

When the last of them had
gone and no others appeared for what seemed an eternity, Dasen
climbed back through the bushes to the raised platform at the back
and tried to see down the river. There was no sign of sails through
the braches and tall grass, so he untied them. “They’re gone,” he
called to Teth as he walked by the hold. “They couldn’t have cared
less about us. We lost some time, but we should be to Gorin in a
few hours.” The sound of Teth shifting on the bed was the only
answer, so Dasen took up the pole and pushed them away from the
island.

A few minutes later, they
were back in the main channel with the diamond of Gorin growing on
the horizon. There was no sign of other vessels. They were alone on
the river with their journey nearly complete. Soon, they would be
in Liandria. Soon, they would have the world’s largest army between
them and the invaders. Soon, they would have peace. Soon, they
could heal.

#

The guards were firing at
them. Dasen could only believe it because of the arrows falling
into the water around them. He stared at the men on the docks as
they notched another volley and began to draw back the strings.
There was no sign that they would concede. “Turn,” Dasen called to
Teth and searched for cover on the barren deck. The boat did not
turn.

The official on the dock
yelled, “Turn back! You may not dock here. The first volley was a
warning. We won’t miss again.”

Dasen did not want to find
out. The range was only decreasing along with the official’s
patience. He looked back at Teth. After twenty minutes of cajoling,
she had begrudgingly agreed to take the rudder so that he could be
at the front of the boat when they arrived in Gorin East, but even
then, she had only moved it at his explicit direction. Now, she was
ignoring him, attention locked on the approaching dock with as much
conviction as she had shown since Thoren. Her dim, tired eyes had
turned hard. Her sagging shoulders were stiff. Her indifferent
frown was a determined line.

By the Order, why
now?
Dasen turned from his wife to the
soldiers and back. They had closed to fifty paces, and Teth had set
a course as if to ram them. “Turn back!” the official, a squat man
well older than his charges, yelled again. “By the order of the
Duke, I am authorized to destroy any vessels approaching from the
Kingdoms. If you do not turn, we will shoot you and burn your
boat.” His voice quivered as he spoke. It was clear that he was not
comfortable with his orders, but that did not mean he would not see
them through. There was no way for them to win this. Those archers
would only get closer. Their aim would only get better, and even if
they made it to the dock, the guards would simply turned to weapons
that were far more certain.