The Betrayed Page 10
He concluded by telling of their escape up the cliffs, of the flight to the Plains, the battle against the Daegmon, and lastly what led him back to Citadel. “The others, my former companions, along with Lluach and Alrew, now pursue the creature again, even as Golach pursues them. The others have all suffered great loss. Family members killed. Villages and lives destroyed. They have seen how the creature ravages the lands, and they are committed to defeating it in order to save Gondisle. Lluach and Alrew had not suffered like the others. Not from the attacks of the Daegmon, that is. But I think both are ashamed that they gave their service to Citadel, which refused to come to the aid of Gondisle. And that they served Golach, whose cruelty they witnessed. Now they desire to serve the people of Gondisle.”
Thimeon was finished. He had not told everything. He had not shared all he had learned about the Daegmons from the book. Nor did he mention the prince and the help he had given them. That was best kept secret. But he had told enough for Lluanthro to understand what was at stake. And he could relate more later.
Lluanthro asked several questions about his older son, but Thimeon acknowledged he didn’t know him very well and wasn’t able to say much more. “He was only with the company a few days before I parted.” Still, Lluanthro was visibly excited to hear of Lluach’s choice to leave the army of Citadel and give aid to the company on their quest. “He never told me why he joined the army in the first place. I think they must have threatened our family in some way.”
Thimeon nodded. “He hinted that he was coerced. It would not have been the first time. I am glad he found the courage to leave. He is a great benefit to our company, yet I fear he will be in far greater danger pursuing the Daegmon than he was in Citadel.”
“Better he die doing what is right on such a worthy quest than grow rich in the service of that evil,” Lluanthro replied.
“My father would have said the same thing,” Thimeon replied. “He would have been sad—ashamed even—if I had accepted the pay of Citadel to serve under Golach. If he were still alive, he would have encouraged me to fight the Daegmon. And yet, even so, if news had come that I died fighting the creature, he would have grieved. I hope no such news causes you grief. It is part of what drives me to Citadel.”
By nightfall, when they made camp just west of the King’s Forest a short distance from the bridge over the Dagger and the entrance to Citadel, Lluanthro had agreed to help Thimeon in whatever way he could. The first thing he did was reoutfit him. In addition to a costly new cloak and two pairs of warm trousers, he gave Thimeon the bow, along with a dagger, and a new herb pouch to replace the one he had lost. Thimeon was grateful for all of it. It was more than he could have hoped for. “And that horse is a good find also,” Lluanthro added. “I’ve looked at him. A nice six- or seven-year-old. He’s of quality stock. Probably stolen from a good breeder. Though his recent owners haven’t treated him well, with good food and care he’ll prove a good mount. You should keep him.”
They got an early start the next day. Late in the morning Thimeon noticed a steady increase in traffic going in both directions. Horse- and ox-drawn farm carts. Wealthy merchants with more expensive wagons. Several teams of horses hauling thirty-foot-long timbers lashed to wheels, all headed toward the city. And peasants, some looking cheery, others more downtrodden, walking along the roadside in the dust left by the other traffic.
Before the noon hour, they came to the great arched stone bridge across the Dagger River. Thimeon’s heart beat faster, part out of anxiety for his own danger but even more from the sense of urgency he felt when he thought of his companions. He told himself repeatedly that he had little to worry about. Nobody would be looking for him. There was nobody even likely to recognize him. But he had no argument to quell the sense of urgency that grew with each day and hour his former companions continued their own pursuit.
As he passed the top of the arch and started down the back side of the bridge, the majesty of the massive walls of the city loomed in front of him. They looked as tall as the pines that lined the hillside behind his family’s farm outside Aeti and as sturdy as the granite ledges of the mountains that loomed over the hills. But he had little time to observe them.
Once across the bridge, traffic became even busier. The road was two or three times as wide on this side. Here on the southern side of the city it ran only thirty yards away from the walls. There were houses and farms off to the south but no buildings between the road and the walls. However, street merchants hawking all manner of goods lined both sides, and occasional angry voices rose above the general murmur of traffic.
Thimeon had only been to Citadel twice. The first time was many years ago when he’d traveled around Gondisle as a younger man before the war had started. The second time he’d been a prisoner and seen little except the dungeons and secret passageways. But though his earlier visit was brief—for the city with its crowds and busy life did not appeal to him nearly as much as the wilder places of Gondisle—he remembered something of its layout. The southern wall was at least a half mile long. In the middle was the great wooden gate, twenty feet high and forty feet wide, through which most of the traffic entered and exited.
They gate stood open, with a steady stream of traffic coming and going, and they entered unnoticed in the crowds. Lluanthro’s plan was to go with Augs to the palace with some of their merchandise while Thimeon, Athropas, and Rammas settled into an inn and kept their ears open. Lluanthro would try to figure a way to get Thimeon into the castle later. “When it comes to whale oil, I don’t even bother with the king’s business these days,” he explained. “I can get a fairer price with the merchants in the city. But there are a few nobles in the palace willing to pay a generous price for good pearls. Some of them have loose tongues, usually good for a few tidbits of valuable information. Meanwhile there are three taverns in the city where you might gather outside the castle as much information as I do inside.”
Thimeon had not come to Citadel for rumors or gossip. Still, knowing something about the movement of the king’s armies, or even about who in Citadel might prove to be an ally, wouldn’t hurt. While waiting to find entry into the castle, he should learn as much as he could.
“Where are they? And what are they called?” he asked.
“Midnight’s Blue sits atop the ridge on Over Street, looking down over the Rain River and the Rain River Market. The owner, Djeff, has an ear for good music and a gift for brewing the best ale in the South. Unfortunately, for that very reason, their rooms are often full. It’s also a bit out of the way. The Green Pearl is not far from the south gate and a little quicker to get in and out of. That’s where we’ll go first and where we’ll spend the night. It’s a good inn, with clean rooms and hearty food. Their beer tends to be weak, but they always manage to have on stock some of the best southern wines. They cater to the wealthier merchants as well as the occasional noblemen who venture out of the palace. You won’t need to ask many questions there. There’s plenty of gossip—just sit and listen. If nothing else, you’ll find out who has been buying what lately and which nobles are hosting galas. More importantly, you might hear which of the captains have left the city.”
“This is helpful,” Thimeon acknowledged. “But what I really need, more than information, is a way back into the castle. I need to find the passage to the ancient chamber so I can get to those books. And weapons, if there are any that might have power against the Daegmon.”
“I understand and I’ll do what I can, but I’m not sure how easy it will be to get you into the castle alone and unwatched. It might have been easy ten years ago, but since Koranth has grown in power, things have changed.”
Thimeon frowned. “I don’t know what else I can do. The Daegmons have been fought before, long ago in ancient times, and they’ve been defeated. I’m sure if I can find that old treasury, I will discover something in one of those books about how that was done.”
“Well,” Lluanthro said
with a note of hope. “Some of the nobles have residence rooms in the palace in addition to owning their own estates. I mean, some of them have been given entire wings of the palace. I don’t know if it’s a reward or a way for the king to keep a closer eye on them. But in any case, I’m not unknown to them, and I have with me a few pearls of rather remarkable size and color. If I can get one of the dukes or a high-ranking officer to invite me back tonight or tomorrow, and to issue a written invitation for my entry into the palace, I should be able to bring you along as my assistant.” He paused a moment, but then his expression became less certain and he rubbed his chin. “Of course they might also prefer to meet me somewhere outside the palace, out here in the city. I’m sure some of these noblemen who buy my pearls are not buying them for their wives. Or even if they are, they would rather haggle with me or choose less-expensive pearls when their wives are not present. I just don’t know.”
Thimeon nodded. He had known all along that getting back into the secret passages and finding his way down to the hidden treasure chamber would be extraordinarily difficult without some help from the inside. But now, even with the unexpected help of Lluanthro, the task seemed both impossible and yet also desperately important. He considered telling his new friend about the prince. If Lluanthro could somehow contact Dhan, would not the prince be able to help? If Dhan still had the power and freedom to move about, that is. But Thimeon also knew that he held the prince’s life in his hands. If the prince was still free, it was because nobody had guessed the aid he had given Thimeon’s companions in their escape. If the king had any suspicion at all, he would have the prince watched closely. Thimeon knew he must not reveal that secret.
He would not tell Lluanthro. “I understand,” he finally said. “Do whatever you can. If it doesn’t work? Well, when my father met some obstacle, he used to say, ‘If the front gate doesn’t open, try climbing the stone wall.’”
Lluanthro nodded. “Yes. The fishermen of Aënport have a similar expression. ‘If the fish won’t bite the hook, throw out a net.’ I was already thinking along those lines. I happen to know that not everyone is fond of Koranth. I’ve heard enough rumors to guess that even some who are high up among the powers of this city work against him, and against some of the newer and more wicked policies of the king.”
Thimeon’s heart quickened at these words. Again he had to bite his tongue to keep from mentioning the prince’s name. Lluanthro went on. “There are some who might be convinced to lend us a hand. It will be a risk even to ask questions, for I am not sure who the right names are, and everybody is distrustful of everybody else. But I will do what I can. Lluach has taken some risks of his own to do what is right, and I’m proud of him. Maybe it’s time for his old man to do the same. Meanwhile, though, as I said before, you might as well see what information you can gather while I’m at the palace. If you think you can move about the city safely, the other place for you to try is the Dagger’s Water. It’s a disreputable place—one where I confess I spent too much time during my younger and poorer days. Their beer tastes like dirty water, unless you’re a regular and know the special passwords—in which case you’ll get some of the best distilled beverages in all Gondisle. It used to be that one had to ask for ‘Gollups.’ Whether that was the name of person, a drink, or just some made-up word, I don’t know. Anyway, that was years ago. I’m sure the password has changed by now. As for information, at the Dagger’s Water you can probably get all the information you want concerning just about anything, but it will cost you. Before you pay the price, make sure the seller knows something. There are honest crooks and swindlers, if you know what I mean. You’ll find the Dagger’s Water on the far side of the Smithy District. But be on your guard in that place.”
Thimeon nodded. Lluanthro gave him several silver coins and one gold: enough silver for a good meal and a dozen mugs of beer, if he wanted that many, and the gold coin could buy a pricey bit of information.
A short time later, they parted company. Thimeon watched Lluanthro and his brother continue on toward the castle with one of the wagons. Then he, Athropas, and Rammas took the other wagon directly to the Green Pearl. After stabling the horses and seeing to the safekeeping of the merchandise, they went inside to reserve a room for the night.
The inn was warm and friendly, well lit with beautiful tapestries on the walls. Men and women in fine clothing sat at tables or along cushioned benches on the wall. In the common room, where a large fire burned in a great hearth, the three of them shared a midday meal while rich merchants from all over the realm sat at tables around them sipping wine and telling stories. Thimeon and his group did not talk. He was intent on listening. For a while the regulars ignored the three newcomers, but then somebody recognized Athropas as Lluanthro’s son and came to sit beside him.
Within a few minutes, half a dozen handsomely dressed travelers and traders sat at Thimeon’s table. Thimeon kept quiet, letting Athropas do the talking. The young man let on that his father had brought a small cache of good pearls in addition to the oil and had gone straight to the castle with them.
The subject then changed to the coastal weather, and then to the growing dangers on the trade road, as well as problems within the city itself. Merchants not only had worries from highway robbers; they were also being given a difficult time at the city gates. From six days ago until just three days ago, nobody had been allowed in or out of Citadel without a thorough search of their wagons. Even now many merchants were being turned away from their usual business at the castle.
Hearing this news, Thimeon grew more interested and also more worried. As the conversation continued, he learned that Captain Golach was absent from the city—that he had returned from a long mission in the mountains only to disappear a few days later riding hard around the King’s Forest with a large band. Captain Dunat had gone with him, while El-Phern had led a larger host northward along the road. There was considerable speculation about the reasons, but none of the merchants’ guesses came near the truth. Then somebody mentioned that the prince had also disappeared.
Thimeon turned sharply toward the speaker. “When?” he asked. The question popped out too eagerly. Several of those around the table raised their eyebrows at Thimeon’s sudden interest. He forced himself to sit back and relax the muscles in his neck and arms. “When did that happen?” he asked again, in a more relaxed voice.
“Nobody’s seen him in or around the castle for three days.”
“You been in the castle lately?” asked another man who had introduced himself as a fabric dealer. “I was turned away this week. First time that’s ever happened.”
“Did the prince leave Citadel?” Thimeon asked.
“Nobody’s seen him depart the city with the war band. But the way things are at the castle, he might be in there and nobody’d ever know.”
“Better not talk too loudly, or you’ll be shut out at the gates,” said another.
A silence fell on the small group, and the merchants took hasty looks around as if somebody might be watching them. “It sure did get cold early in the mountains, this year,” somebody commented. Several others nodded in agreement. After that, the conversation turned to the decline in precious metals coming out of the Northland mines, and then to speculation on why Westwash fishermen had brought little through the markets of Aënport that year. The politics of Citadel did not come into conversation again.
10
THE DAGGER’S WATER
When it became clear to Thimeon that he would learn nothing else of interest at the Green Pearl, he excused himself from the conversation and returned to his room. Athropas and Rammas came with him. The two young men splayed themselves out on their sleeping mats and soon were fast asleep. Thimeon paced the room for a while, pondering what the news meant. Had Dhan had been thrown into the dungeon? Executed? That the prince himself had seen that as inevitable, having already fallen out of his father’s favor, did not lessen Thimeon’s sense of resp
onsibility. Yet he could do little to help him. He was in desperate need of help himself. He went back over Lluanthro’s parting words. There might be some who would be willing to help. And there were places he could go to find information. He made up his mind.
A short time later he slipped out of the inn and made his way across the city toward the smithy district in search of the Dagger’s Water. Despite the tavern’s unpleasant reputation, Thimeon was desperate for information, especially about the prince. He was willing to take some risks. And he was more willing to risk the city’s seedy side where soldiers were infrequent than to risk encounters with some guard who might recognize him.
Being midafternoon, most of the foot traffic moved in the other direction, southward toward the gate. Several farm wagons rolled down the main streets, alongside horses and a few carriages carrying more important residents of the city. Anxious to avoid encountering anybody who might know him, Thimeon kept to the back ways and narrow side streets lined with houses as he worked his way around the city toward the East Wall. Once in the right district, it didn’t take him long to find the place. The first person he asked—a tall friendly-faced butcher in the process of closing his shop for the evening—wrinkled his face in disgust. He looked Thimeon over carefully, then without a word he pointed toward a narrow street fifty yards away. Thimeon nodded his thanks and hurried in that direction.