The Rogue Knight (12 page)

“Does it matter?” Ansel asked.

“You're not the one asking the questions anymore,” Cole said.

Ansel heaved a poisonous sigh. “Wasn't magic. I drew an image of you. I have a hand for faces. We hired some artists to copy your portrait, and I rounded up some men to share the pictures around town, offering a reward. Somebody working the door at the dazzle show last night recognized you. Word got back to me in time to have men follow you after the performance. At first they thought they'd missed you, but then you exited late from a side door. Once we knew your inn and your room, the rest was easy.”

Joe crouched near Ansel. “You're not a good man. Legal or not, your occupation is despicable. But you're a trader, and I'll take you at your word. If we leave you here, you'll never hunt Cole again, and you won't utter a word to the authorities about seeing the group they're looking for.”

“That's my pledge,” Ansel said. “I'll go on living my life, and you'll carry on with yours. A profitable bargain for both parties. End of story.”

“Killing him would be safer,” Jace said. “We took out his guys. He might change his mind.”

“He'll keep his word,” Joe said.

“You'll all get caught,” Ansel said. “You've drawn too much attention. It's just a matter of time. But it'll have nothing to do with me or mine. You took out Ham, probably some of my other people on your way down here. That's to be expected. Heat of combat, you or them. Water under the bridge at this point. Sunk costs. You don't want to kill me in cold blood. I don't want to die for doing my job. I'm giving you an out. Let's all go on living.”

“He's good,” Jace said.

Ansel spat sideways. “I like straight talk.”

Joe looked to Mira, and she looked to Cole. He considered Ansel, sprawled on the grimy floor. The trader had abducted his friends. If not for Ansel, Cole would be at home right now, going to school or playing video games or horsing around outside. Jenna and Dalton would be safe, as would the others.

But if slavery was legal, did Ansel have a point? Was he just doing his job? He was a bad guy, but he hadn't killed any of the kids. If he promised not to chase them anymore, Cole couldn't stand by and let him be
murdered
, even after the awful things the slaver had done.

Cole gave a nod. “I believe him.”

Mira nodded as well.

“All right,” Joe said. “We'll take you at your word. I don't want to see you again.”

“The feeling is mutual,” Ansel assured him. “Let's become strangers. Leave us here and make your way wherever you choose. We'll stay down here for an hour, and we won't pursue you. Reasonable?”

Joe gave a quick salute. “See you never.”

C
HAPTER

 12 

CARAVAN

“I
booked us passage with a caravan that leaves tomorrow at dawn,” Skye said. “It was the soonest I could manage.”

They sat in a rented room not far from Trellis Square, where they had met Skye without trouble. The rescue had taken place in the first hour of the morning, leaving them plenty of time to make the scheduled rendezvous.

“Is a caravan the best way for us to travel?” Joe asked.

“We'll draw much less attention than we would on our own,” Skye said. “The back roads of Elloweer are unsafe. Most people live near a castle or in towns behind walls for good reason. Strange creatures roam this kingdom. People are wary of outsiders. Considering the threat of the Rogue Knight, I vote for a caravan.”

“Isn't the Rogue Knight fighting against the government?” Cole asked. “Doesn't that put him on our side?”

“I wish,” Skye said. “From what I hear, the Rogue Knight hasn't shown much interest in who he robs, as long as they have money. He hasn't provided leadership to the cities he has conquered. He hasn't sided with a cause. His only clear aim is to defeat champions and give away the spoils. His methods are reckless. He seems to want anarchy.”

“Anarchy would shake up the High King,” Jace said.

“Chaos in Junction City might help us,” Skye replied. “But wars are only decided by champions in Elloweer, so the Rogue Knight only shakes up Ellowine towns. Think about what no taxes really means—no guardsmen, no community maintenance, no public services. The High King and his governors are better than complete disorder.”

“A lady I spoke with thought the Rogue Knight might be the Duke of Laramy,” Cole said.

Skye rolled her eyes. “Everybody has a theory. I have it on good authority that the Duke of Laramy is dead. He was the nephew of Callista, our Grand Shaper. He remained vocal against the High King's takeover after Callista went into hiding. We tried to recruit him into the Unseen, but he preferred to make his outrage public. He vanished before long. Drowned, as I understand it.”

“What about Callista?” Mira asked. “Do we know how to find her? She would probably help us.”

Skye chuckled skeptically. “Believe me, the Unseen have looked. Nobody can work changings and illusions like Callista. She could be a great asset. But if she wants to hide, we don't have a chance. Finding her would take a miracle.”

“We have a Miracle,” Jace inserted.

“Aren't there any clues?” Mira asked, ignoring the comment. “Maybe a way to signal Callista to come out of hiding?”

Skye shook her head. “Callista abandoned her stronghold decades ago. She brought none of her apprentices or attendants with her and left no messages with her fellow enchanters. She just vanished. Even if we found her, who knows what we could expect? Callista was always eccentric.”

“You've already signed on with this caravan?” Joe asked.

“Yes,” Skye said. “We'll have two coaches, each with four horses and a driver. As travel goes, it should be very comfortable. I'll use my Madeline disguise—the disgruntled assistant looking to start over in a new town. You can pose as my attendants. The caravan I chose is led by Monroe Sinclair, a longtime sympathizer of the rebellion. We can always pull out. I'll lose my deposit, but I have ringers to spare. Travel by caravan is a bit slower and more structured than a small mounted group, but I think it's safer overall.”

“You're the local,” Mira said. “And you've spent a lot of time dodging the Ellowine authorities. We'll trust your judgment.”

“Makes sense to me,” Joe agreed.

“Very well,” Skye said. “I have other preparations to make. Mira, come to my room in an hour, and I'll restore your illusion. I'll make a new identity for Cole tonight. We rented rooms here for three days, but plan to leave with the caravan tomorrow at sunrise.”

After Skye left the room, Cole neared Twitch. He didn't know the right words to sum up his gratitude, but he had to try. “Thanks for following me. I thought I was a goner. I don't know what I would have done.”

“You would have been an extremely right-handed slave,” Jace said. “Thank Mira too. She insisted we go after you.”

Mira swatted Jace on the shoulder. “You would have gone on your own.”

Jace shrugged. “Maybe. We'll never know.”

Cole was too grateful to let Jace get to him. “Thank you all,” he said. “I'll owe you forever.”

“With Ansel off his trail, does Cole still need a disguise?” Jace asked.

“Better safe than sorry,” Joe said. “I expect Ansel will keep his word, but it doesn't hurt to take precautions. Besides, the word is out to look for three boys and a girl. Having one of the boys look older will make us all harder to detect.”

“I agree,” Mira said.

“Since Twitch just bailed me out,” Cole said, “I need to tell you something before I forget. Twitch could use our help with a problem.”

Twitch's eyes widened in panic. He shook his head hurriedly.

“I'm worried you'll never ask on your own,” Cole said.

Twitch covered his eyes. “All right. Go ahead.”

“Help with what?” Mira asked.

Cole explained about the swamp dweller who had taken over Twitch's hometown. Twitch filled in names and details when Cole needed help. Even Jace listened respectfully.

“I'm sure we can find a mercenary to help you out,” Joe said. “I'd fight Renford myself, but I'm not really a duel-with-a-sword kind of guy. I'm afraid I'd lose. I can brawl, but I tend to rely on gadgets, and surprise, and a quick getaway.”

Twitch waved his hands to deny the offer. “I don't want to cause any of you extra trouble. You already have more than enough problems. But I could use help hiring the right fighter.”

“Twitch!” Mira scolded. “Of course we'll help you!”

“Can it wait until we get to Merriston?” Joe asked.

“It can be later than that,” Twitch said. “I want to help Mira find Honor first—and help Cole find Dalton.”

Joe crossed to Twitch and shook his hand. “It's a deal. For now, rest up. We start early tomorrow.”

The caravan stood ready to depart well before sunrise. Two dozen wagons and coaches waited in the clammy predawn chill for the East Gate to open. Several riders would accompany the horse-drawn vehicles, including Monroe Sinclair and five private soldiers in light armor.

A thickset man in his fifties, Monroe had short graying hair and a long leather cloak slit partway up the back. He wore a large sword at his hip in a black scabbard. His broad jaw and blunt features made Cole think of old pioneer photographs. He seemed comfortable with leadership as he rode up and down the wagon line giving quiet instructions.

Seated in one of the eight passenger coaches, Cole bundled a thin blanket tighter around his shoulders against the chill. He studied his hands. They looked normal, although a long examination in front of a mirror had confirmed that others would see him as a short, plain man with an uneven haircut.

Skye had created the seeming last night as Cole squatted on a low stool. The procedure had mostly involved her pacing around him while he held still, occasionally raising an arm or turning his head as directed. Sometimes she moved in close and shut one eye. Other times she considered him from across the room. He hadn't sensed anything out of the ordinary besides a faint tingling once or twice. When he presented himself to the others, Jace had laughed and said, “I thought you were ugly before.” Cole hoped it meant the disguise would work.

The approaching dawn infused some color into the somber morning. Jace, Twitch, and Joe all sat with Cole. They were dressed as servants. Mira rode in the fancier coach with Skye.

Several horsemen came trotting toward the caravan near Cole's coach. At their front rode a man in full armor, his face hidden behind helm and visor. The others were dressed as guardsmen. Behind them rolled a stately coach with two uniformed drivers. Monroe rode over to greet the newcomers.

Cole watched with interest. Surely the guardsmen hadn't come looking for Mira, but his mouth was dry nonetheless. Joe watched intently as well.

“Can I help you?” Monroe asked.

“Good morning, Monroe,” the heavily armored man said. “We're joining your caravan.”

“It's the first I've heard about it,” Monroe said, clearly rankled.

“Orders from the alderman,” the man replied. “We're escorting his daughter Lucinda to Merriston. Alderman Cronin thought we'd travel more comfortably with your caravan, but he didn't want word of the journey to spread ahead of time. You'll still get your full fee, and you'll have twice the armed escorts, including the best knight in Carthage.”

Not wanting to appear too interested, Cole shifted his eyes away from the conversation. Having a knight and city guardsmen along would increase their risk of discovery. He listened nervously, hoping that Monroe might deny the request.

“I don't like surprises,” Monroe said. “Cronin should have told me. I can keep a secret.”

“I'm just following orders,” the knight replied. “You better do the same.”

“The alderman's authority extends to the walls of Carthage,” Monroe said. “Not beyond.”

“His official jurisdiction ends at the wall,” the knight agreed. “But he controls who goes in and out of that gate.”

“I'm aware.” Monroe sighed. “I don't want needless trouble. I've no intention of locking horns with Cronin. I just don't like getting pushed around.”

“I'll take that as consent to join you?” the knight verified.

“A larger armed escort makes everyone safer,” Monroe said. “But this remains my caravan.”

“All coaches except for one, and all personnel but mine,” the knight said. “We'd prefer to ride near the middle.”

“Fall in wherever you wish,” Monroe grumbled.

Cole glanced at Joe, who gave a little shrug, as if the presence of the guards might not be all bad. Cole supposed it could prevent other guardsmen or legionnaires from giving the wagon train much scrutiny. With Skye, Mira, and himself disguised by seemings, the chances were decent that the knight and his soldiers wouldn't catch on that they were on the run.

“Thank you,” the knight said to Monroe. “Shall we get under way?” Turning toward the wall, he signaled with an upraised hand. A moment later the gate began to open.

Before long, the wagons started rolling. Cole settled back in his seat. They were on their way to Merriston—and to Dalton!