Arine's Sanctuary (6 page)

Chapter Nine

            
 
T
hey smelled the sea long before they saw it. The air changed, taking on a salty aroma that was new to Arine. Mestra sniffed once, and muttered something about how some things never change.

              For Arine, though, this was new. She kept in
step with her friend, even as her eyes searched the horizon around every bend or crest of a small hill. She wanted to see the ocean. It had kept her and Ian apart for so long now. And, with luck, it would be the instrument used in reuniting them.

              Mestra paused at a rock, making a show of pulling off her boot as other travelers passed them by. The road had gotten busy over the last day. Merchants and noblewomen flocked to the city for the festival Domine Grace had announced to celebrate her counterpart and ally’s wedding.

              “When we make it around this next bend, you’ll see the city and the sea. This isn’t a vacation; it’s a job. Keep yourselves together, all
of you. We’ve got a safe house to stay in until we head back. But we need to get there before dark. The streets here won’t be safe for the boys at night.” Mestra spoke low as she adjusted the laces on her boots. “Daytime’s still not good, but at night…best not to even try it.”

              “What happens at night?” Logan asked.

              Mestra raised her head. “Ever been attacked,
Logan? Followed because a woman thought you were pretty and wouldn’t
take no for an answer? Beaten or robbed because you’re a boy and make for an easy mark? This isn’t a farm. It’s a city. The women down here are mean. They’ll drug you, beat you, call you names just for entertainment. Because you’re a boy. Do us all a favor. Keep close to us and keep your mouth shut.” She stood up. “The only boys who are on the street after nightfall either belong to someone with power, or are being sold by the hour or act. You don’t want to be mistaken for one of them.”

              Arine watched Logan’s face, the reality of what was ahead of them sinking in. He was scared. Good. He needed to be. While he wasn’t in a great situation when she fetched him years ago, it wasn’t nearly as bad as what might happen.

              Mestra rose from the rock, “Let’s go. We’re barely going to make it before sunset as it is.”

              As her friend promised, Arine’s first sight of the sea was around the next bend. The rays of the sun glinted off an endless expanse of blue-green, sparkling more than the stars at night. Willing herself to keep moving forward, Arine swallowed the fear that came with seeing such an expanse. The Far Lands were on the other side, so it didn’t go on forever. It just
looked that way.

              The road began a slow descent into the city below. Excitement threatened to overtake her outward calm. Arine focused on the road under her feet instead of the infinite horizon.

              Dawnbreak sprawled along the shores of the sea. The buildings ranged from small homes and shops to domed towers and keeps, all laid out with straight streets heading in orderly directions. The layout was well planned. All roads led to the piers, where tall masted ships bobbed gracefully against wooden docks. Colorful banners hung from high windows and draped across rooftops. Arine cursed under her breath. The silk fabric looked beautiful, but it also discouraged someone like her from
taking a different route to their destination. Even the most nimble thief, or Moreja, would find that way dangerous.

              “I know, Arine. I wouldn’t be surprised if
the rooftop banners were Talia’s idea. She knows how good you are at that sort of thing, and isn’t as stupid as we’d like to hope. She’s going to know we’re coming for her eventually.”

              Arine nodded at Mestra’s words. “She does. The moment she lost her bid and the council voted in our favor,
she knew she was doomed. The Moreja don’t treat traitors well.” She glanced back at Logan and Cavon. “At least the beards hide their appearance a little. Not much. We’re going to need them to stay inside as
much as possible. It’s one thing if we’re spotted. If they are…” Her voice
trailed off.

              “It won’t go well for them.” Mestra finished the thought. “Think they’ll listen if we tell them to stay inside? They’re both rather stubborn.”

              Arine shrugged. “We can try. Logan does listen to me most of the time, and your warning scared him. Cavon, though. He’s lived in a big city, yes. But he was sheltered, coddled. I don’t think he was ever given permission to visit the darker parts.”

              “The safe house is centrally located, which benefits us. Right off one of the major open market areas.” She pointed towards an open area in the city below. “It’s not near enough to the docks for them to hear or see any of the auctions, but we still need to be careful. The local
traders are just as likely to canvas the markets for un
attached pretty boys as they are to be watching the ones they already own.”

              The terrain changed, packed dirt being replaced by cobblestones. As the road widened, the slope became steeper.
A heavy rope, strung waist
high alongside
the road, assisted them as they wove their way down into the city itself.

              Mestra led, and Arine positioned herself at the back so she could watch the boys and not lose
sight of them. The press of people grew as they passed merchants set up on the side of the entry, attempting to pressure them into buying a few souvenirs of the momentous occasion before they entered the city gates. Arine kept a wary eye out as children darted between the masses, watching for pickpockets and cutpurses. Or Talia.

              The guards merely noted the number of people entering the city. No one asked for names or city of origin. Domine Grace wanted everyone in her area to come celebrate. That alone alerted Arine
that something else was happening. Grace had never been anything but cautious. She knew who lived in her lands, the comings and goings out of the city. Every ship, every horse, every cart was accounted for. Seaports were notorious for smuggling, and Domine Grace had a reputation of coming down hard on those who did so. At least, without bribing her first. As long as she got her due, she turned a
blind eye to how the monies were gotten. Or
who was leaving on the ships.

              Arine
kept pace, her eyes taking in alleyways and overhangs--any possible place for either an ambush or escape. They were now
in enemy territory. Every mission encompassed the same risk, and she was well trained to know how to leave a place faster than she got into it.

              Mestra stopped before a house, the smooth plaster painted a pretty yellow. A single wooden door, dark with iron hinges, sat between two large windows. Above, an iron railed balcony held nothing but a couple of flowering plants hanging off the side. Arine turned her attention away from the merchants closing up shop in the huge open area behind them as her friend pulled on a cord snaking from a hole in the wall near the door.

              The door opened slightly, and Arine could barely make out the figure of a young boy, about ten.             

“We are friends of Sabine’s. She’s expecting us.” Mestra’s voice was low.

The boy closed the door. “We wait. He went to get her.”

“Friends of Sabine’s, huh? Since when did she start taking in boys this old?” A snide voice came from the street.

Arine turned to face the speaker. Dark skinned, with her hair pulled back, the woman smiled at her. “If she’s not willing to buy them, I will. I’ve got clients that like them a bit older.” She thrust a chin towards Logan and Cavon.

“Sorry, but they’re not up for sale. We have need of them yet.” Arine kept her voice friendly.

“If you change your mind or finish with them, let me know. As long as they’re not permanently damaged, that is. My name’s Martine. I’m not hard to find.”

“Martine, aren’t you a bit far from the docks?” Another voice chimed in. Arine turned her head. Standing in the doorway was a blonde headed woman, her hands on her hips.

“Ships came in empty, Sabine. A woman’s gotta find a way to fill them, right? Lots of people coming in for the party. Some might need money to get home with.”

“Not these, Martine.” Sabine stepped aside from the entry, waving a hand in welcome. “Come in, my sisters. We’ve been too many years apart.”

Following the others inside, Arine looked over her shoulder as they entered. Martine stood on the street, watching the door close behind them.

“Sorry about her, Mestra. Martine normally stays in the port district. The Far Lands must be desperate for boys, though. All the traders stay there, but she’s been wandering around the market for a week or more
now. Haven’t seen her actually make a deal yet,” Sabine said as she
led them through a corridor towards the rear of the house.

The corridor opened up to a central garden. A balcony above them overlooked the lush plant life before them. On the other end of the garden stood a pair of spiraling stairs. “I’ve got a set of rooms set aside for you and your boys. Mistress Bryn gave me some details, and I’ve been able to learn more since she said you were coming. Once you’ve rested and bathed, we’ll eat. Then we can talk.”

“You have more information on Ian?” Arine couldn’t help the hopeful tone from creeping into her voice.

Mestra glared at her, then replied to Sabine. “It’s your house, my friend. We’ll abide by your rules, even if we’re anxious to get on with the mission. You take a great risk housing us, and we would not put you out more than we already have.”             

Arine bristled at the rebuke, but understood.
She had crossed the line
. Mestra was on lead for this, and with good reason.

Sabine smiled, “No apology necessary, my friend. And the risk is small. Domine Grace and I are on good terms. My account with her is more than current, and she knows it. She tends not to ask who stays at my home. Bryn let me know the circumstances, so Arine’s question is not out of line.” She continued to speak as she led them up one of the staircases. “However, your journey here has been long. The caves, while excellent for travelling safely, are not equipped for bathing. The boys with you may need to rest while we speak, as well. I can’t imagine the journey was easy for them. Ah, here we are.” She stopped in front of a door painted a bright red, with brass fittings. “Here’s the key,” placing an item in Mestra’s hand, “and the bath is off the main room. There’s a couple of sleeping alcoves as well. I’ll send up Brian in a few hours when dinner is ready.”

              Outwardly, Arine kept her composure as their host left them and she followed Mestra into the room. Inwardly, however, her thoughts and emotions churned like never before. So close to seeing Ian again, convincing him to join her in a life better than whatever he must’ve led for the last decade.

              The room was well furnished, a creative mix of functional chairs and tables and large cushions. The tranquil blues and greens didn’t help her regain her composure. She knew she had to be calm, for all their sakes. It wasn’t just her she’d be putting in danger this trip if she couldn’t
remember her training.

              She began a customary sweep of the room, checking for everything from hidden doors to secret observation holes. Mestra’s voice, while low, carried well in the room. The acoustics were such that any small noise would be heard by them. All the worse for anyone who would try to sneak in while they slept.

              “Get a grip on yourself, Arine. You’re worse than a new Sister on their first mission.” Mestra’s voice held a slight rebuke. “You know any information Sabine has will wait until she’s ready to tell us. Bryn trusts her. So do I. That should be enough.”

              Arine picked up the muted sounds of water. The boys were bathing. Good. They tended to get grouchy after a few days without. While she was content with waiting another month if it meant Ian was safe at last.

              She sank into one of the central chairs, tossing one of the overstuffed pillows onto the floor. “I know, Mestra. I didn’t think it would be this hard, not after this long. What if he doesn’t recognize me? Or it’s not him?”

              “Then we still offer him Sanctuary and get our asses home. And Bryn will keep searching.” Mestra shrugged. “I know you’re hopeful, Arine. We all are or we wouldn’t have come with you. But you have to put it aside for now. You celebrate when we’re back home, and not before.”

              Arine rubbed her forehead with her fingers. A dull headache threatened to increase in intensity. “I know. To celebrate early means death. For me, for the one I was sent to fetch, for those risking the journey with me. But…” her voice trailed off.

              “No ‘buts,’ Arine. Once the boys are done, we’ll clean up. Go eat dinner with Sabine. Learn what she has to tell us. Then we rest until tomorrow.”

              “And tomorrow?”

              Mestra smiled slightly, “Tomorrow, we let you see your brother. And figure out what damage Talia’s done.”

***

              A youth,
barely old enough to shave
, carefully placed a steaming bowl of soup in front of Arine. The aromas drifting up from the dish made her mouth water. “I had the same meal we’re going to eat prepared and taken up to your boys, Mestra. I’m sure they’re hungry, after the long journey here,” Sabine said, her spoon poised above her own bowl.