The Raven Ring (30 page)

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Authors: Patricia C. Wrede

BOOK: The Raven Ring
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Eleret began to feel less unsettled. But for the possibility of Shadow-born, the situation was not so bad as she had begun to fear. And as to the Shadow-born…
Set a legend to defeat a legend.
She smiled slightly, and looked over at Karvonen, who immediately assumed an expression of exaggerated patience.

“Thought it all out at last?” the little thief asked solicitously.

“Not all of it, just the next step. We’re going to see Adept Climeral.” From the look of relief on Karvonen’s face, he’d expected her to offer an open challenge in the market at midday to any Syaski, shapeshifters, or Shadow-born within hearing. Eleret felt her smile grow. “Come on. No sense in wasting time.”

After offering her regrets to Lady Kistran, Eleret led Karvonen down the narrow front stair to the outer door. The guard on duty was the same one who had let her and Daner in the night before, and she nodded a greeting as she approached. To her surprise, he stepped in front of her, blocking the door.

“Give you good day, Freelady.” The guard’s words resonated against the stone walls. He eyed Karvonen briefly, then shifted his weight forward and moved his hands a fraction farther apart, where he could more easily reach his weapons if they should be needed.

“Good day return to you, Bresc.” Eleret paused uncertainly. Was there some unfamiliar protocol for leaving a Ciaronese nobleman’s home? “The messenger and I have to find Lord Daner. Will you open the door?”

“I’m afraid I can’t, Freelady.” Bresc’s tone was polite, but with an undercurrent of implacability. “Lord Daner’s orders were very clear.”

“Lord Daner’s orders?”

“No one is to come in or go out until he returns.” Bresc’s eyes flicked to Karvonen once more. “And no one has.” Karvonen was back in his role, his face was a mask of professional politeness and unconcern, but beneath it he was taut as a new bowstring.

Eleret shifted, and Bresc’s eyes snapped back to her. She felt more than saw Karvonen relax, and shifted again, so that the thief was very slightly behind her. “Keeping people out makes good sense, under the circumstances,” she told Bresc. “But keeping people in—”

“His lordship was very specific about that, Freelady. No one leaves without his express permission.”

“Which we can’t get, because he isn’t here.” She could, of course, try to fight her way out. Bresc was no Cilhar, and his reflexes were unlikely to be a match for hers; on the other hand, experience would make up for some of the speed that age had robbed him of. With regret, Eleret set the idea aside. She couldn’t start a fight in her host’s home, especially since Bresc was only doing his duty, nor could she challenge the guard simply because Daner had been thoughtless again.

Behind her, Karvonen cleared his throat. “If the Freelady feels the matter is of sufficient urgency, perhaps Lord tir Vallaniri…”

“I believe Lord tir Vallaniri is aware of Lord Daner’s commands, and agrees with them,” Bresc said. “If he gives you permission to leave, I shall, of course, obey.”

“Then I will no doubt see you again soon.” Eleret bowed, turned, and, with Karvonen two steps ahead of her, headed for the stairs.

“Do you really think Lord tir Vallaniri is going to let you out of here?” Karvonen asked as soon as they were out of the guard’s hearing.

“Why shouldn’t he?”

“Because you’re a guest who’s been threatened and he thinks you’ll be safer here, or because you’re a suspicious stranger he wants to keep an eye on, take your pick. Ciaronese take both their host-duties and their families very seriously.”

“So do Cilhar. And speaking of suspicious strangers, how did
you
get in?”

“Ummm—the love of your bright eyes made my heart so light that I flew over the wall?”

Eleret snorted. “Let’s go talk to Lord tir Vallaniri. Whatever he says, he’ll make more sense than you do.”

“Leave? No, no, Freelady, there’s no need for that,” Lord tir Vallaniri said. “The house is perfectly safe now; Daner’s seen to that.”

“Yes, he told me.” Eleret frowned. “But you don’t win wars by sitting in a safe-hole waiting for your enemies to come to you, and there are things I should be doing.”

“I’m sure they can wait until Daner returns,” Lord tir Vallaniri said. “He shouldn’t be away much past noon.” He looked at her face and added, “I appreciate your position, Freelady. I hope you appreciate mine. You are my guest, and you have already been attacked once under my roof. It would be far worse if you should be injured or killed through my carelessness.”

“I understand.” At least, she understood that Lord tir Vallaniri was not to be persuaded, any more than Bresc had been. It looked as if she would spend her morning sitting home whittling tent stakes, whether she wanted to or not. Smothering her irritation, she gave a formal half-bow. “Good day to you, then, my lord.”

Outside the study, Eleret turned right, toward the staircase that led up to her room. “Not that way,” Karvonen said. “This way. Unless you want to waste the morning admiring Lady tir Vallaniri’s taste in furnishings.”

“You have an idea?”

“I have a way out.” Karvonen hesitated. “It’ll unwrap a few family secrets for you, though, so if you use it you’ll have to promise not to tell anyone how you did it.”

“I give you my word,” Eleret said at once. Her duty as a guest prevented her from fighting her way out, but it did not forbid her use of other means to escape her hosts’ overprotectiveness.

“Then follow me.”

Two flights of stairs and three narrow hallways later, curiosity about Karvonen’s “way out” had given way to amazement at how well he knew his way around the Vallaniri house. Only once did he pause and motion for Eleret to stop and be silent. Slightly puzzled, she did so, and heard footsteps growing fainter down a branching hall. She looked at Karvonen and raised her eyebrows.

The footsteps faded into nothing. “I didn’t want to be seen,” Karvonen said softly. “This way, Freelady.”

“Seen by whom?” Eleret asked. “And why do we have to go up two floors to get to your ‘way out,’ when all the doors are at the bottom of the stairs?”

Karvonen peered cautiously around the corner. “We’re meeting some—Hsst! Jaki! Over here. Help for the family.”

“What—Karvonen?” It was a woman’s voice, familiar but changing tone and timbre so completely between the two words that Eleret could not be certain who had spoken. A moment later, Jakella rounded the corner. For a moment, the two women stared at each other in mutual astonishment; then Jakella spun on Karvonen, her whole body stiff with anger.

“Help for the family,” Karvonen repeated in an insistent tone, as if the phrase was a password. “Come on, Jaki, you know the drill. Where can we talk?”

Jakella pressed her lips together, glanced back over her shoulder, then motioned them around the corner and through a door. The room beyond was small and clearly seldom used; the hearth was cold and swept clean, and the air smelled faintly of dust.

“Now you can talk,” Jakella said. “And you, my
dear
cousin Karvonen, had better have a damned good reason for crying
family
to an observer on a job, and in front of an outsider, at that.”

“It’s all right, Jaki, she’s Cilhar.”

“I know that. So?”

Karvonen looked nonplussed. “She’s given her word not to say anything about this to anyone. You haven’t broken cover yet.”

“That’s a help, but it still leaves a little matter of—”

“Excuse me,” Eleret said, laying her hand on the hilt of her dagger. She felt a little ill at what she was about to do, but duty to her host and her pledged word gave her no choice. “I won’t tell anyone about you, but I have to stop you. Guest-service. I’m sorry.”

“Wait!” Karvonen stepped between Eleret and Jakella, hands carefully out to the sides, fingers wide and empty. “Can’t we talk first?”

“I don’t think you want me to hear any more,” Eleret said. “And you can’t change my obligations. Lord tir Vallaniri is my host. Since I was foolish enough to pledge you my silence, I’ll have to stop whatever theft you’re planning myself.”

Jakella made a small choking noise. “
Theft
? Karvonen, what have you been telling her?”


I
haven’t told her anything,” Karvonen said, sounding harassed. “Shut up a minute, Jaki. Eleret—Freelady Salven—what makes you think—”

“The City Guards told me that the Aurelicos are all famous thieves,” Eleret said. “And you admitted as much yourself.”

“Oh, no,” Karvonen said, shaking his head emphatically. “Acquit me of that, Freelady. I said
I
was a thief, that’s all.”

“And a pretty poor excuse for one,” Jakella said. “Which still doesn’t explain why you dragged me into this.”

Karvonen rolled his eyes, then twisted around to look at her. “I appreciate your impatience, Cousin, but please, do me the favor of waiting until I have talked her out of killing you. I find it difficult to manage two explanations at once.”

“Maybe then we’ll get more truth out of you,” Eleret said.

“I’m
telling
the truth.” Karvonen looked genuinely hurt. “Jaki’s my cousin, umpty-times removed, but she’s no thief and never has been. She follows the family’s second profession, which is more respectable. She’s…an information gatherer.”

“A spy?”

Karvonen winced. “If you must call it that, yes.”

“Karvonen—” Jakella’s tone was full of warning.

“She won’t tell anyone, Jaki! She’s Cilhar!” He looked hopefully at Eleret. “You do see, don’t you, that this changes matters?”

Eleret frowned, considering. The explanation fit neatly into all the bits and pieces Karvonen had let slip about his family. Too neatly, perhaps. On the other hand, he
had
never claimed that all his relatives were thieves, only that he was one. Eleret’s lips twisted. She
wanted
to trust Karvonen, to believe him when he said he was telling the truth, but to trust a thief…

“I should also point out, Freelady, that I am in this household at this time merely by coincidence,” Jakella said in the sour, overly formal voice she usually—usually?—used. “I am a servant in the household of Lord Domori Trantorino, and had Lady Laurinel not chosen to visit her parents while her husband is away I would never have set foot in this house. Nor is my…employer one who wishes harm to Lord or Lady Trantorino.”

“Your employer?”

Jakella’s lips thinned. “Who it is, I will not say, but I swear by the Cup and the Shield and the skill of the family that my activities have nothing to do with the Vallaniri. If this assurance will not satisfy you, I am sorry.”

Eleret hesitated, then glanced at Karvonen.

“She means it, Freelady,” Karvonen said. “That’s an oath we take seriously.”

With a nod, Eleret lifted her hand from her knife and turned back toward Jakella. “Very well. I will accept your assurances.”

Heaving a sigh of relief, Karvonen lowered his hands. As he turned toward Jakella, Eleret thought she saw his lips twist in a brief, bitter smile, but the expression was gone too quickly for her to be sure. “Now, Jaki, about that help—”

“Explanations first, Cousin,” Jakella said, dropping her sour nursemaid’s voice. “And you’d best hurry; I have duties, too.”

“The explanation’s simple. Freelady Salven needs to get out of the house without being seen, and the doors are guarded.”

“That’s no explanation at all. You may owe her for something, but I don’t. Begging your pardon, Freelady.”

“Oh, come on, Jaki, she’s Cilhar. The aid-in-distress clause—”

“—is something nobody takes seriously, unless he’s looking for an excuse to poke his nose into—Oh, I see.” Jakella shook her head. “Sometimes I wonder about you, Karvonen. Curiosity is all very well, but getting mixed up with a
Cilhar…
Are you planning to take up the Fourth Profession?”

“Do I look like a lunatic? I like my pieces right where they are, thank you, all together and reasonably undamaged, and I intend to keep them that way into a ripe and rotten old age.”

“Fourth Profession?” Eleret raised her eyebrows and looked from Karvonen to Jakella.

“Our family has as much variety as most,” Jakella said with a ghost of a smile. “But there are four occupations that are…traditional, though the fourth is seldom deliberately chosen. We tend to be thieves, spies, artisans—”

“Artisans?” Eleret said, surprised.

“Forgers and counterfeiters,” Karvonen translated. “Some of our cousins can copy anything, from the portrait of the first Queen of Kith Alunel to that silly-looking broadsword with the gem-studded handle that the Emperor of Rathane uses when he’s passing out titles.”

“You’re trying to change the subject,” Jakella said. She turned back toward Eleret. “As I was saying, we’re thieves, spies, forgers—and heroes.”


Heroes
?”

Jakella smiled. “That’s what I said. Hardly anybody realizes it, because those of us who take up the Fourth Profession generally change their names. The Aurelicos are too well known as thieves, you see.”

It sounded like a joke to Eleret. Well, if Karvonen and Jakella wanted to see how much bait she’d swallow, it made no difference to her. She shrugged. “I suppose so. If we’re going to leave, shouldn’t we do it soon?”

Karvonen nodded. “Yes, Jaki, about leaving…”

Jakella looked at him and began to laugh. “All right! I’ll never get rid of you otherwise, and then I really
will
break out of cover. Exactly what is it you want from me?”

TWENTY-TWO

K
ARVONEN REPEATED HIS EXPLANATION
of the problem, adding, “All we really want is a way out. If you know a door that wouldn’t be guarded…”

Jakella shook her head. “Lord Daner’s no fool. Your shapeshifter got in here once disguised as someone’s servant, and he won’t have forgotten that. You’ll have to go off the roof.”

“I was afraid you were going to say that. I
hate
rope work in Ciaron, especially on these old places.” Karvonen made a disgusted face and looked at Eleret. “Normally, you can just loop a rope around a merlon and go, but the Ciaronese are nearly as paranoid as you Cilhar. At least one out of every three merlons is built to break away if anyone tries that. It’s meant to make things harder for attackers, of course, but it’s just as bad for…anyone who wants to get out unnoticed.”

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