Archer's Sin (8 page)

If he could muster the courage to walk all the way to Captain Felix, the job would be his.

He swallowed and forced himself to make those final steps. Captain Felix offered his wrist, and Justien clasped it. There were a few cheers from the audience. Also more boos. He looked down at the field of his competitors, searching for Nalica, but he couldn’t find her. His heart ached. It was an awful thing Captain Felix had done to her, denying her the prize she had won fairly and with panache. He couldn’t blame her if she couldn’t stand to see it awarded to someone else.

Captain Felix spoke. “Welcome to the Riat City Guard, Justien Polini.”

It ought to have been his moment of triumph, but he felt only the sting of shame. Amidst the confusion and the noises and the tumult of his emotions, he understood that he could not do this.

“Thank you, Captain,” he said. The crowd quieted, and Justien’s stomach roiled as he saw that every eye was on him. “Much as I would love to join the city guard, I cannot accept.” There was a murmur from the crowd in response. In a shaking voice, he continued. “Nalica Kelden outshot me tonight. I didn’t earn this win, and as an honest competitor, I must decline.” He turned to the imperial couple to acknowledge them. “Your Imperial Majesties, thank you for this opportunity to compete.”

Captain Felix looked stunned.

Justien glanced at the restless crowd. He couldn’t stay here under all this scrutiny. He’d said his piece. If the judges were decent men, they would now reconsider their choice and give the prize to Nalica. He extricated his wrist from Captain Felix’s grasp and descended from the platform back to the archery field.

Captain Felix addressed the crowd. “Since our winner declines the prize, the judges will confer and select a new winner.”

The other archers brightened at this news, especially Caellus, since he’d shot better than most. The crowd continued to murmur as the three judges moved back from the stage and into a huddle. Justien remained on the field, shifting nervously from foot to foot. Where had Nalica gone? He hoped that if the judges did the right thing and gave her the prize, she could be found quickly.

The judges then separated, having finished their conference.

Captain Felix approached the railing to address the crowd once again. “Citizens, I would like to announce this year’s winner of the archery competition and the newest member of the Riat City Guard: Caellus Atilian. Caellus, please ascend the stage to accept your prize.”

Caellus yelped with joy and ran up the stairs. Justien watched with a sinking heart as Caellus and Felix clasped wrists. There was nothing more he could do. He’d given the judges a second opportunity to do the right thing, and they would not do it. They would never do it. Feeling as wrung-out as an old towel, he walked away.

***

Justien usually didn’t worry about walking around the city of Riat at night. The imperial city was well policed and well lit. It didn’t have a serious crime problem, and anyway he was a war mage. A common thug who tried to make a target of him would regret his foolishness. And yet Justien could not shake the feeling that he was being followed.

Footsteps echoed his own. He knew better than to stop short and make it obvious that he heard the other man, but when he slowed down, he could tell that the person following him took a moment to catch on before matching his speed. He sped up a little, and after a brief delay, the footsteps matched his speed once more.

Why would someone follow him? When Nalica had spotted that man in the brown syrtos who’d appeared to be following them at the festival, he hadn’t taken the situation seriously. He was a war mage; it was impossible for an enemy to take him by surprise. But now he worried. Whoever was following him probably knew what he was. After all, he’d just come from the archery tournament. If this person knew what he was and was tracking him anyway, he might have the resources, or the numbers, to deal with Justien’s abilities.

Justien kept to the main streets, avoiding alleyways. Even at night, it should be hard for someone to attack him in a public space. None of the moons were up yet, but light glows mounted on posts kept the streets reasonably bright. He moved from one circle of light to another, listening. Up ahead, patrons from a crowded all-night tavern spilled out into the street, singing and talking. He couldn’t let his tail follow him all the way to Nalica’s inn; that would put her in danger. He had to put an end to this, the sooner the better.

He stopped and turned on his heel. “Who’s there?” he called. “I hear you following me.” He scanned the streets, each darkened storefront, each alleyway. He could see no one.

A breeze from the harbor tickled his arms. He heard nothing. No footsteps, no anything. “What do you want?” he called again.

Several of the tavern-goers stopped to watch.

He turned and continued walking. This time he heard no footsteps at all.

By the time he’d reached the Crooked Billet, he felt certain he’d lost his tail. He wasn’t sure that was the outcome he’d wanted, exactly. He’d have preferred a confrontation—preferably a nonviolent one—so that he knew who his follower was and what he wanted. The mystery remained unsolved.

He walked inside. His first thought was that the Crooked Billet wasn’t good enough for Nalica. It was a dump. A few low tables housed some old men who nursed their ales without enthusiasm. The place looked clean enough, but it was dark and smelled of old, rotting wood.

The innkeeper approached him. “We’re full tonight.”

“I’m looking for a woman named Nalica,” said Justien.

“Unless she’s here in the common room, I can’t help you.”

Justien took a handful of quintetrals from his pocket and pressed them into the man’s hand. “Perhaps this will change your mind.”

The innkeeper slid the coins into his pocket. “Second floor, third door on the right.”

Justien thanked him and ascended the stairs.

***

When the knock came at Nalica’s door, she was annoyed. Her room at the Crooked Billet had offered her the first bit of privacy she’d had all day, and a safe place to let the tears flow after that disaster of an archery tournament. Now she was done with her foolish weeping, but the last thing she wanted was to talk with somebody. She was sick of the world and everyone in it.

She dragged herself off the straw tick, crossed the tiny room in a couple of steps, and opened the door.

Justien stood before her.

She blinked. What was
he
doing here? Maybe he’d come to gloat about his “victory,” or else to renew his offer of supporting her on his city guard’s salary. Either way, she wasn’t interested. She started to close the door in his face.

He stuck his foot into the gap and stepped forward, pushing his way into the room. “Just give me a moment. I want to talk.”

“What can you have to say? I know what happened. You won the ‘tournament,’” she said, making no attempt to soften the contempt in her voice. “Go to your new friends, those crooked jack-scalders in the city guard. You’ve no business here.”

He flinched as if she’d hurled arrows at him instead of words, and she noticed for the first time that he wasn’t smiling and his eyes were dull and joyless. It appeared his “win” had not made him happy. Well, it shouldn’t. He hadn’t earned it.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” he said.

Did she still have tear tracks on her face? She hoped not. “Sorry doesn’t help. You’ve said your piece; now go. Big day tomorrow, starting the new job.” She walked away from the door, hoping that would encourage him to leave.

“I didn’t take the job,” said Justien.

She turned, raising her eyes to his face. “Why not?”

“I hadn’t earned it,” he said. “I won’t take what I haven’t earned.”

Fresh tears pricked the sides of her eyes. He hadn’t taken the job? Her anger fled; this changed everything. But somebody had to take the job, and if it wasn’t Justien...well, it clearly wasn’t going to be her either. Unless the judges had changed their minds, and Justien had been sent to fetch her back? Could that be possible? “What happened when you turned it down?”

“They gave it to Caellus.”

Her hope snuffed out like a candle flame. She sighed. “If they were looking for mediocrity, they got it.”

“Mediocrity is what they deserve. You’re too good for that job. So am I, frankly.”

“I’m not too good for their tetrals.”

“I know.” Justien looked around her tiny room. “May I sit?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “Do as you please, but there are no chairs.”

“How about on the bed?”

“All right. If you call that a bed.” It was only a straw-stuffed tick laid on a wooden frame, but she at least knew after sleeping in it for three nights that it was free of lice.

He sat on the tick.

She paced about the small room, wishing she hadn’t snapped at him earlier. She should not have doubted him. Deep down, she knew Justien was a good man. But she hadn’t expected even a man as good as Justien to make such a sacrifice on her account. “Tell me everything. What happened after I left?”

“I wish I hadn’t even gone up on the platform,” he said. “I’d expected Felix to announce your name. I was preparing myself to applaud for you, even though I was jealous and angry with myself for missing the butt with that third arrow. And when he said my name instead, I was confused. I wondered if maybe I could have misunderstood the scoring. In the end, I went up there because he told me to and everyone was watching.”

“I wasn’t confused when it happened,” she said, lowering her gaze. “Just humiliated.”

“You’ve perhaps more experience with this sort of thing than I have,” said Justien. “I know there’s a certain antipathy toward women warriors, but I didn’t think the judges would dare to be so blatant. Hundreds of people saw you outshoot me. Gods above, the emperor and empress saw it! And then I was called up on the platform to be supposedly honored—the crowd was booing, by the way.”

“I heard them,” said Nalica. “Much good it did.”

“I felt trapped up there,” said Justien. “But after I thought it over, I realized I couldn’t accept the award. I told them you’d outshot me and I couldn’t accept the prize. So I went back down to the field, and they conferred to pick a new winner. I was hoping they’d do the right thing this time and name you.”

Her eyes swam, and her heart swelled with warmth. She wanted to hug Justien for standing up for her when no one else would.

“They didn’t, though,” he said. “Instead they named Caellus.”

Now she hurt for Justien as well as herself. “I hate to say it, but in a way I wish you’d taken the job. Better you than Caellus, and they would never have given it to me.”

Justien shook his head. “After what happened, I couldn’t take it. And when I turned the job down, I felt
relieved
. Can you believe that? After wanting that job so badly, I was glad I wouldn’t be stuck with it. Because I’d have known every single day that I didn’t deserve it.”

“Caellus deserves it even less.”

“I know,” said Justien. “I can’t help that.”

She went to the bed and sat beside him. “I wish I hadn’t wasted my money on the entry fee. Maybe I should go back and demand that they return it. Obviously I wouldn’t have entered if I’d known they wouldn’t let me win.”

“They won’t give it back. If they did, they’d be admitting their deceit.”

She sighed. “Captain Felix—that jack-scalder! I hope the authorities hauled him in and questioned him about the horse race, at least.” She blinked. Was it possible she’d been passed over because of reporting his presence at the stable? No, probably not, otherwise Felix would have passed over Justien as well.

“He wasn’t the only judge.”

“They’re all jack-scalders,” she grumbled.

Justien raised a finger to her cheek and traced one of the old tear tracks. “I’m sorry it happened. I really am.”

She turned away, flushing, and rubbed her face. But it wasn’t his touch she objected to, and to make that clear, she scooted closer to him. After a moment, he slipped an arm around her waist. “I almost forgot. I brought you a present.” Metal clinked gently as he fished something from his pocket. “Here.”

She opened her hand, and he poured a necklace into it. Sparkling yellow citrine winked up from her palm. She smiled. “From the jewelry tent.”

“I figured if I was going to come here after what happened this evening, I’d better bring an offering. Let me put it on you.”

She handed him the necklace and turned so he could fasten it around her neck. His hand on her tender skin sent a tingle all the way down to her toes.

“Thank you.” She’d almost forgotten about the jewelry tent and this necklace. It was touching that Justien had thought to go back there and buy it for her.

Justien wrapped an arm around her. “Why don’t we discuss what comes next.”

She wriggled closer, leaning against his shoulder. “Nothing comes next. I’m paid at the inn through tonight. Tomorrow I’ll leave town and look for work somewhere else. Riat is too gods-cursed expensive when you don’t have a job.”

“But you’ve no money to travel with.”

She shrugged. “I’ll get by. It’s not the first time I’ve been broke.”

“I’ll be leaving town too,” said Justien. “There are no other jobs for war mages here; I’ve looked. I was thinking we could leave together.”

She looked up at him. “Leave together and do what?”

“Look for work,” he said. “As a team.”

The idea had merit. Jobs for war mages were scarce, but most people hiring one at all needed several. Why not throw in her lot with Justien? They might struggle, but at least they would be struggling together. And there was no one else she’d rather be with.

“And maybe get married,” he added softly. “If that appeals to you at all.”

That was sudden. And yet the proposal was not unwelcome. Justien was the first man she’d met since leaving Vereth who felt right for her. She wished their financial future were not so uncertain, but this was the man she belonged with. Of that, at least, she was certain.

“There’s no hurry as far as marriage is concerned,” he said. “I just want you to know where I stand. I want you, but if you’re not ready, I’ll wait. You said you were out of money, but I’ve got some from my last job. I can keep us going long enough to find some kind of work, whether it’s guarding a caravan or chopping wood. It’ll be cheaper to buy one room on the road instead of two.”