The Quartered Sea (46 page)

"Surely Benedikt has gone to him. I have
seen
him staring at the tul's windows."

"You have eyes and ears in your brother's townhouse?" he asked as one of the junior attendants replaced the xaan's house sandals with streetwear.

"Benedikt is young and easily manipulated, but he's no fool. He knows there's only one place he can go where I can't reach him." With Shecquai back in the crook of her arm, the xaan brushed past her cousin. "He's either already at the docks or he's on his way there, and I will not lose him."

* * *

"You're sure they're searching for him?" Tul Altun crossed the room to stand by the open stonework that overlooked the Great Square. Four Fives of his sister's guards had just formed up and marched off, leaving…

He rested his forehead against the polished stone.

… leaving too many guards still in the house for him to make a move that had any hope of success. Hope of success had been in very short supply lately.

"You're sure?" he asked again.

"Yes, gracious one. The Kohunlich-xaan's house master checked to be certain he wasn't here."

"Good." When the tul turned, his smile had regained a certain feral cast. "Tell my First you speak with the mouth of the tul. He's to put as many guards as I can spare in house sawraps—I don't want news of this getting back to the tulpayotee. Tell him they're to find Benedikt first."

Benedikt had begun to doubt the pilot boat's existence. He'd searched the piers of all the great houses and found nothing. A ship from House Calakroul had come in, sails furled and oars out, without using a pilot boat at all. From what he overheard, they'd spent the night before anchored just up the coast and waited for daylight before making the attempt. Which did him no good at all.

Caught between the crowd that disembarked and the crowd that boiled out from the warehouse and the crowd that gathered from nowhere just because something was happening. Benedikt began to lose control of his Song. He found himself trying to influence individuals instead of the group as a whole. He began to receive a few curious glances.

And then a few more.

Clutching the coin, trying not to hurry, he started toward the smaller piers along the left arm of the harbor. No one tried to stop him, no one even shouted after him, but he couldn't help feeling as though they were all watching him walk away. He'd reached the point where he'd have gone to sea in a coracle if he could have only found one.

He heard the guards before he saw them. Only guards, in this land of minimal clothing, rattled as they walked. Heart in his throat, he dove flat behind a pile of wicker baskets. When no one raised a hue and cry, he squirmed carefully around and peered out.

They were the xaan's guards, no mistaking the uniform. As he watched them spread out, Benedikt realized this wasn't a random search—they'd come straight to the docks and expected to find him.

Curious about where and why the guards of House Kohunlich were going in such a hurry so early in the morning, about a dozen people had followed them out from between the warehouses. There were now a number of small crowds milling about on the docks but among them, no priests of Xaantalicta. It didn't matter what he Sang, the guards would be looking for the robe. Glad to be rid of the gauze at least, he slipped it off and stuffed it between two baskets. Which was when he saw the boat.

Not much bigger than a coracle, it lay on its side between the baskets and one of the buildings. There were no oars, but that didn't matter if he could get it into the water. He could only hope it was watertight because it was the only chance he had.

The guards were searching the piers of the great houses first. All he had to do was get the boat up and onto his right shoulder where it would mask his head and most of his body. He could only hope that one pair of legs under a boat would look pretty much like any other.

First, he had to get
to
the boat.

Drying damp palms on his sawrap, he got to his feet and glanced over the top of the baskets. As long as the guards continued searching the piers for just a few more minutes…

He reached the boat and swung it up onto his shoulder in one easy motion then, hissing in pain, he jerked his head to free his hair, trapped between shoulder and crossbrace.

Oh, that's got things off to a good start.

Eyes locked on the water, he hurried toward the harbor edge, wanting to run, and knowing he couldn't.

Cazzes had no idea why the xaan's singer had run away, and he didn't want to know. If he found him, he'd get some of his own back for the
zados
crack and that was good enough for him. Besides, guards never asked questions. He had a good life, and he wasn't about to mess it up by wondering what could have happened to make a man throw away eight braids.

He was still thinking about braids when he glanced up and saw the small boat being carried toward the water. Still thinking about braids, he was looking at the spot where the boat covered the head of the man carrying it. A strand of golden hair flickered for an instant over the upper gunnel.

Shouting for his Second, he started to run.

Once the shouting began, Benedikt shifted his grip on the boat and raced toward the water. He could hear the guards closing fast, but the water was barely a dozen strides away. He was going to make it.

He had to make it.

He didn't see the cat although he heard it shriek as he tripped. Twisting as he fell, he threw the boat as hard as he could and, moments after he smashed knees and elbows into stone, heard it hit the water. The retaining walls were lower here, no more than four or five feet high. All he had to do was throw himself off them after the boat. The kigh would do the rest.

Scrabbling to his feet, he took one step, two, and launched himself forward.

Arms closed around his legs and dragged him down.

His hips hit the edge of the harbor wall, and he barely managed to protect his face as momentum slapped him down toward the vertical stone. He could see the boat, so close below, as he fought to drag himself over into the water.

On his knees, straddling Benedikt's body, Cazzes took the strip of cloth someone offered and leaned forward. "This'll teach you to call mine a
zados
," he murmured as he tied it tightly underneath the golden hair. Straightening, he pushed a finger in under the corner of the singer's mouth, now stretched and disfigured, and checked that the gag wouldn't shift. Then he grinned down in triumph at his captive.

He expected to see anger or fear, wouldn't have been surprised to see him begging silently behind the gag, but the strange blue eyes looked up into his with such raw desperation that it caught his breath in his throat.

What could have happened to make a man throw away eight braids?

He didn't want to know.

Rising, he stepped aside but, when one of the others prepared to deliver a vicious kick to the stranger's side, he stepped back and blocked it.

"Well done, Cazzes." The Second clapped him on the shoulder, then glared around at the rest of the guards. "The xaan only wants us to hold him, she'll give him what he deserves herself. Tie his hands, then move him away from the water. And find something to cover him with before someone screams Tulpayotee and the xaan has
our
balls for breakfast."

"Your balls," muttered one of the women as the Second moved the crowd away in the name of the Kohunlich-xaan.

Cazzes watched while the singer's hands were tied, while a futile escape attempt was almost absently dealt with, then he bent down and yanked him to his feet.

When the gag went on, Benedikt stopped fighting. It was almost funny that they bothered. He'd been hiding behind a Song since before sunrise and he didn't have strength enough to control even one of the guards, let alone the half dozen who held him. Almost funny, but not quite. He couldn't fight his way free, and voiceless, all hope was gone.

He knew they were talking about him, but all he heard was a dull roar of sound. Two guards forced his arms together behind his back while a third tied his wrists. Hoping they'd be distracted while they worked, he tried to throw himself backward into the harbor. They stopped him without really trying.

Then strong fingers wrapped around his upper arm and heaved. Benedikt stood, staggered, and a surprisingly gentle touch steadied him.

The touch, an unexpected kindness, cut through the insulating despair and right into his heart. It brought the world back into focus. Out over the water, a gull shrieked and he wished he could echo the cry.

The despair in the blue eyes changed, focused, but didn't lessen. Cazzes cursed himself for a fool.
Don't look in his eyes
! He tightened his grip again.

By the time the xaan reached the harbor front, the guards had Benedikt on his knees by the pillar that marked the House Kohunlich pier, his discovered robe pooling on the ground around him. Guards, groom, and coloas emerged from between the warehouses at full speed and clattered to a stop. The coloas looked vaguely surprised by how fast it had been moving. Stepping out of the cart, Xaan Mijandra might have been arriving to inspect a warehouse ledger but Hueru's expression was one of dark anticipation.

* * *

His house tattoo covered by the bib of a leather apron and his hair back in a single braid, Xhojee pushed as close to the edge of the crowd as he dared. A few dozen men and women lingered just beyond the area of the harbor claimed by House Kohunlich, wondering what was going on and more interested in it, whatever it turned out to be, than in going back to work. When the Kohunlich-xaan arrived, the interest level peaked. Three or four karjen wearing house tattoos scurried off and the rest settled down to enjoy a bit of street theater.

Telling himself that his tul would want to hear of how the xaan dealt with Benedikt's capture, Xhojee stayed.

"I don't have time for this, Benedikt. You are going to Sing for me, one way or the other. Willing, unwilling, I don't really care." She slipped two fingers under his chin and lifted his head so she could stare down into his face. Her thumb came around to stroke the gag. "You're willing to die so that doesn't happen, aren't you? Too bad. Dead, you're no use to me."

She stepped back, looking thoughtful, and Benedikt felt sweat roll down his sides. If she wasn't going to kill him, she'd try to force him to agree to Sing. He glanced beyond her to Hueru. It wasn't difficult to see where the force would come from. He'd never been beaten, never even been badly hurt. He'd never been so frightened in his life, but he was a bard—he hadn't been for a while but he was again—and a bard would never agree to destroy a people.

No matter what.

Although no one in the crowd had a very good line of sight—the surrounding guards saw to that—everyone knew what was coming. Remembering days and nights his peace of mind would have just as soon he'd forgotten, Xhojee clenched his fists, and yelled, "That's a priest of Xaantalicta!

The houses can't punish a priest!"

* * *