The Truth of Shadows Read online

  He watched the man for another second, then satisfied he wasn’t going to be waking anytime soon, he shot a glance at his two companions. One was unconscious, maybe dead, his face coated in blood from a wound to his head. The other was, even now, groaning in pain as he clambered to his feet.

  “Bastard broke one of my ribs, Elver,” he hissed.

  “I imagine he’d have broken a lot more if I’d taken any longer. Good thing for you I only had to take a piss.”

  The other man grunted at that. He held one arm wrapped tightly about his midsection and shuffled to where his knife lay, whimpering in pain as he bent to retrieve it. Then his eyes narrowed, and he started toward the unconscious giant.

  “And just what in the name of the gods do you think you’re doing?” Elver asked.

  The wounded man—Jakes, they called him, on account of how often he had to piss—paused, frowning. “You seen what he done,” he said, gesturing angrily at the unconscious man. “I aim to make him pay for it.”

  “Not here you don’t. The boss said to take ‘em clean, make it look like they just up and vanished. All tore up over that bastard son of theirs’ disappearance, maybe.”

  Jakes snarled. “Bastard threw a chair at me. Broke one of my damn ribs.”

  “Sure. And what do you think Sigan’ll do, he finds out you went against his orders and made a mess of things? Figure he’ll be alright with it?”

  “Sigan ain’t got to find out.”

  Elver raised an eyebrow. “You willin’ to bet your life he won’t? Fact is, you two have already made a big enough mess of things, bleedin’ everywhere and all. We’re goin’ to have to put in some serious work make this look like nothin’ criminal went on, and I ain’t cleanin’ up this big bastard’s corpse just so you can take payment for that rib of yours.”

  “Well, shit. What do you aim to do then? Let the bastard walk?”

  “I didn’t say that. You’ll get your recompense, but not here. Now, why don’t you see if you can’t wake Randall’s ass up, so we can get out of here before we end up in the dungeons?”

  He saw it on the man’s face—him wanting to ask what “recompense” meant but too proud to do it, and Elver held back a sigh.

  “You ain’t my boss,” the wounded man finally said, his pain making him angry, making him lash out, but not just that. After all, the man always had been a dick.

  “No, no I ain’t. But unless you plan on takin’ care of these two here,” he said, gesturing at the old man and woman who were huddled together, “while you’re nursin’ that rib of yours, maybe it’d be better for everyone involved if you just shut up and do what I say. Or do you fancy draggin’ that heavy bastard out of here by yourself, hurtin’ like you are?”

  Jakes frowned at that, but he went about it, moving toward the other man, and that was good enough. “Now then,” Elver said, turning back to the old couple, “sorry about that. Time was, folks in this business had a bit more decorum.” He sighed, running a hand along his gray stubble. “Well. Can’t be helped, I suppose.”

  “What do you intend to do with us?” This was from the old man, scared, sure, not the way he had his night planned out, but doing his best for his wife, and that was alright. Respectable even. Just so long as he didn’t get any ideas.

  “Well, that ain’t really for me to say. I was just told to take you and take you I will. Oh, ain’t no need to look so worried. We’re just goin’ on a little trip, is all.” Of course, most such trips ended with corpses, but saying so wouldn’t have helped things along, and Elver prided himself on being efficient.

  “W-we haven’t done anything to you,” the woman said. “Take what you want but please just—”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” he interrupted, “but that ain’t my decision neither. You seem like nice enough people, but you might ought to have taught your son a bit better. He’s been pissin’ off the wrong kind of folks, folks as ain’t got a lot of patience bein’ strung along. You understand?”

  “No,” the old man said, and seeing the anger that the mention of his son brought to the old man’s face, Elver realized it had been the wrong thing to say. “No, I don’t understand this, any of it. And what about Eriondrian? What have you done with our son?”

  “Nothing,” Elver said. Not yet. “My boss just wants to have a conversation with ‘em is all. Figured best way to do that would be to bring you two around…you know, as collateral. Now, that’s enough talkin’. You two are comin’ with us, one way or the other. I’d just as soon not get violent—leaves more of a mess I got to clean up, see, but it’s up to you how this thing goes.”

  “And if we go with you…” the woman said, “we’ll…we’ll see Rion?”

  Or what’s left after Sigan takes his payment. “Ma’am,” Elver said, “I can just about damn guarantee it.”

  The two studied each other for a moment, as if there was really any choice, but Elver let them do it. Better they think they came to the decision on their own, easier all around. More efficient.

  “Fine,” the old man said finally, “we’ll go quietly. But only if you promise not to hurt Odrick,” he went on, gesturing at the unconscious man on the floor.

  Elver made a show of thinking about it, considering the thing. Then he gave a short nod. “Fine. He ain’t none of my concern no ways.” Not entirely true, that. The man hadn’t been his concern until, that was, he’d decided to be a hero, charging in wielding a damned chair of all things. Now, he was just another part of the mess, another thing to be cleaned up, but he could send one of the lads back to deal with that after.

  The old man studied him. “Fine,” he said after several seconds, “what do you want us to do?”

  “Well,” Elver said, “for starters…” He paused, reaching into his tunic and withdrawing some lengths of rope and tossing them to the old man. “Why not tie these on your wrists? Not as nice as some of the jewelry you’re used to I warrant, but there’s no help for it.”

  They went about tying the bonds, and Elver turned back to glance at his companions, was pleased and more than a little surprised to see that Jakes was getting the other—a new member of Sigan’s band and one whose name Elver couldn’t remember—to his feet. The man was wobbly with a dazed, confused look in his eyes, but he was standing, and that was a sight more than Elver had expected.

  They set about cleaning the place, doing what they could to erase their presence. The old couple sat meekly enough while they went about it and, finally, they were done. Except for the big bastard, Elver thought, frowning at the unconscious form. Well. That was a problem they could solve a bit later, once they were well and away. “Alright then,” he said, turning to look at the old man and woman, “time to go.”

  Chapter Four

  Alesh stalked through the woods, careful to avoid stepping on any of the dry leaves or dead limbs scattered on the forest floor. He scanned the trees, his ears perked for any sound, and did his best to ignore the ache in his muscles. He’d been walking through the forest for the last few hours, using the exaggerated steps Darl had shown him to be as silent as possible. The unnatural way of walking, coupled with the fact that he’d spent the better part of the day before being beaten, marched through a city, manacled and hung from a tree, and fighting for his life against nightlings, made it so that it was all he could do to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

  The sudden sound of voices made him freeze, gripping the handle of the sword he’d taken from one of the dead Redeemers in a white-knuckled fist. There had been little left of those men from the night before, only scraps of their red cloaks here and there among spatters of blood and worse. And, of course, their weapons, swords and crossbows and daggers that had all proved ineffective against the night’s creatures; he and the others had all procured weapons before finding a place to hide and beginning to scout the area.

  Not that being armed would do them much good if they were found. Weapons or not, they couldn’t hope to take on dozens—or hundreds—of armed men by themselv
es. So, as carefully as he could, Alesh crept toward the sound of those voices, sensitive to the swish of forest grass beneath his feet. Finally, he drew as close as he dared and pressed his back up against the trunk of a large oak, peering through the trees.

  A short distance ahead, he could make out a dirt trail where the trees had been cut away to allow easy passage. Four men in the colors of Tesharna’s guard walked two abreast on the trail, their eyes scanning the forest around them, their hands close to the hilts of their swords.

  As they walked forward, drawing closer to Alesh’s position, he could begin to make out their words. “…damned hopeless, is what it is,” one said. “The gods alone know how the bastard made it away—I saw how beaten up he was. Shit, when they marched him through the city, he could barely stand. And now it seems like he didn’t just get away, but killed all the others—General Par included—before doin’ it?” He shook his head. “Just ain’t right, not natural is all.”

  “You aren’t going to hear any disagreement out of me,” another said. “Anyway, what’s the point of looking? If he’s got any sense at all, he’s long gone by now, and good riddance. There’s better ways to die than at the hands of some night-lover.”

  “Well, nobody did ask you,” a third spat, “so why don’t you both shut up? The Chosen wants us out here lookin’, so out here lookin’ we’ll be, you got that?”

  “Of course, sir,” the first said, “we didn’t mean nothing by it. Just thought—”

  “Never mind what you thought,” the man, obviously their squad leader, snapped. “Just do your damn jobs and keep your opinions to yourself.”

  “Yes, sir,” the men answered.

  Damnit, Alesh thought. They had been searching for hours for some way through toward the south, but it seemed that there was no end to the number of men Tesharna had sent out searching for them. Twice, in his scouting, Alesh had practically stumbled on some of the patrols and it had been luck more than skill that had kept him from being seen. If it had been only him, perhaps he could have made it through, but there were the others to think about—Rion and Katherine and, of course, Sonya.

  He felt more than heard someone behind him and spun, a shout of surprise threatening to rise out of his throat. It turned to a heavy sigh of relief when he saw that it was Darl. The Ferinan stood only a few feet away, having come up behind Alesh as silently as he seemed to be capable of doing anything. Alesh glanced back to see the men disappearing around a curve in the path then turned back to Darl. He shook his head, frustrated. “Not this way,” he said in a whisper. “You?”

  The Ferinan shook his head, and Alesh had to repress a hiss of anger. Hours spent searching for some way through the net Tesharna had cast around them and, so far at least, nothing. They had found a small cave in the forest, and it was serving to hide them from the patrols for now, but sooner or later they would be discovered. “Come on,” he said, “we’d best get back to the others.” With that, he started back the way he’d come, the Ferinan a silent shadow behind him.

  ***

  “So what you’re saying is, we’re doomed.”

  Alesh shot a glance at Sonya, at the fear in her young eyes, before scowling back at Rion. “I never said that.”

  “Right, of course not,” Rion said, apparently oblivious of the young girl hanging onto every word, or of Darl and Katherine scowling at him. “All you said was that the patrols are all around us with no way of us getting out. So our options, then, are to try our chances at making it through and hope to the gods that the patrols we happen to pass by are all deaf and dumb, or we’re supposed to stay here in this tiny cave, until we die of boredom, of cramps caused by practically having to fold ourselves up like letters or, most likely of all, to a group of guards when they find us.”

  Alesh couldn’t argue with the man about the cave—the fact was, his back was already aching from having to sit slouched over, and the worst of it was there wasn’t even enough room for more than one of them to lie down at once. He glanced at Darl, hoping that the Ferinan might have something to say to alleviate some of the fear in Sonya’s eyes but, in the end, it was Katherine who spoke.

  “As usual, Rion, your ability to point out the obvious in the worst way possible is amazing. Thank the gods that we have you around.”

  The nobleman snorted. “If it’s all the same to you, I’m not in a particularly thankful mood just now. And you can act like I’m being a jerk if you want to, lady, but that doesn’t change the truth of our situation. The woods are crawling with Tesharna’s men and Redeemers out looking for us. We can’t stay here, and we can’t leave.”

  “That’s not…entirely true,” Darl ventured.

  Alesh tuned to the Ferinan curiously, and wasn’t able to suppress the feeling of hope he felt. “You’ve got an idea, Darl?”

  The Ferinan hesitated. “Well, the road to Valeria is relatively clear. If we are careful, I believe it possible that we can—”

  “That we can what?” Rion interrupted incredulously. “Go back to the city?” He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Oh, that’s perfect. Let’s sneak into the city ruled by the very woman out to see us all killed. Hey, while we’re at it, why don’t we just go ahead and drag these fancy new blades of ours across our own throats? We’ll save the headsman some trouble, anyway.”

  “Will you just shut up?” Katherine snapped, pulling Sonya close, and patting her back. She began to whisper reassuring words to the girl, that were, unfortunately, too low for Alesh to hear. He could have used some reassurance just then.

  He turned back and found the two men were looking at him, again expecting him to lead them. He considered the thought of going back into the city then shook his head. “No. It wouldn’t work. No offense, Darl, but Ferinan are rare up here, and you’re about as conspicuous as anyone can be. I doubt we’d even make it through the gate. And, of course, I’m not much better. Remember, I was marched through the city only a couple of days ago, and I expect that at least some of the city’s people would recognize the man they were hurling rotten fruit at. No,” he said again, shaking his head slowly, “there has to be another way.”

  “Well, let me know when you find it,” Rion said. “I’ll be sitting here contemplating the least terrible way to die.”

  Alesh ignored the man. There had to be some way to put distance between them and the city. If there is, then why aren’t you seeing it? He pushed the thought down. But as much as he turned the problem over in his mind, he kept coming back to the same truth—they couldn’t get out. Not five of them, not with Sonya to think about. The girl was good at hiding, true, but if they ended up getting chased, she wouldn’t be able to keep up, and carrying her would slow him down enough to where they’d both be taken anyway. He wouldn’t watch her go through what he had gone through in the prison, wouldn’t watch her be staked to some tree or with her neck on some headsman’s block. He couldn’t.

  “We could smuggle ourselves out,” Sonya said, and everyone turned to look at her. Her cheeks went red at the attention. “I mean…Tom and I used to smuggle apples out of the kitchen sometimes, when Abigail wasn’t looking. Tom said sailors and pirates did it. He taught me what it means.” Suddenly her face grew serious, and her eyes began to mist over with tears. “Do you think Tom’s okay, Alesh?”

  For a moment, Alesh couldn’t remember who she was talking about. Then he realized that she meant Tom, Lord Gustan’s servant, the boy who had been a few years older than Sonya that she had played with sometimes when the lord visited the castle. “I…I don’t know, Sonya,” he said, wishing he could say something to make her feel better, to comfort her.

  She nodded. “I’m sure he is. Tom knew all about smuggling and hiding—I’m sure he’s fine. He really was a good smuggler, Alesh. Really.”

  “I believe you, Sonya,” he said, giving her a smile that felt as fragile as glass on his face. “I’m sure he was. Only, I’m not sure that smuggling would help us here.”

  “It’s okay, sweet one,” Katherin
e said, patting her hand gently, “it was a good idea.”

  Rion sighed loud enough to draw the attention of the others. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not…but it is an idea.”

  “What are you talking about?” Katherine asked testily.

  Rion sighed again. “Smuggling—you heard her. If she and Tom or whatever his name is can smuggle apples, well, maybe we could smuggle ourselves.”

  They all stared at him for several seconds, then Alesh shared a glance with Katherine. “Rion, how would we smuggle ourselves? Somehow, I don’t think covering ourselves in leaves and pretending to be trees is going to work out.”

  “I don’t mean like that,” he snapped. “I mean, think about it. People smuggle things into and out of cities all the time. Gods, criminals make a living off of it.”

  “Sure,” Alesh said slowly, thinking that maybe the stress of the last couple of days had finally gotten to the man. “But those criminals have men that work for them. They pay guards and hire merchants and use bribes and threats to make sure it all goes smoothly. I don’t know any guards that would rather accept a bribe and risk Tesharna’s displeasure just now and, even if I did, we don’t have any money with which to bribe them. And, unfortunately, I don’t know any criminals that owe me any favors.”

  But Rion barely seemed to be listening, nodding his head as if thinking to himself. “Criminals…” he started, finally. “Well, I know a few. In fact, I think I know just the man for the job.”

  “A criminal that would be able to smuggle us out of here, to the south?” Katherine asked. “But would he? And…does this man owe you something?”

  Rion winced and shifted uncomfortably. “Well…not exactly.”

  “But he could do it?” Alesh pressed, leaning forward.

  Rion sighed heavily. “Yes. Yes, I think he could though…Sigan and I aren’t exactly on the best of terms right now.”