Blood ties-- Thieves World 09 (14 page)

The falcon's keen eyes had spotted Dismas before Chenaya had heard his footsteps on the wharf. Reyk calmed immediately, recognizing the gladiator as he padded with a burglar's swift stealth toward his mistress. "Now, lady," Dismas whispered urgently. "It's the perfect time and place. We may not get a better chance."

Chenaya squeezed the bag of krrf and sugar again, feeling her pulse quicken. She had waited at the wharf a long time for Dismas to report. "What of Walegrin and Rashan?" she asked, getting to her feet.

"They should already be on their way to Land's End. Gestus carried your message and returned to keep watch while I came for you."

She removed Reyk's jess and returned it to her belt one-handed. "Where is he?" The huge gladiator hesitated only a moment and swallowed. "With the vampire woman, Ischade." He wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow. "Not far, but a good run. We should hurry. He's been there an hour already."

"Then up, pet." She sent Reyk aloft. His pinions beat a steady rhythm as he climbed into the night sky and disappeared. She squeezed the krrf bag once more.

"Let's go," she called, tapping her friend on the arm in comradely fashion. There was more than a hint of glee in her voice.

Dismas led her down the Wideway, up the Street of Smells and along a narrow road she didn't know. The road rutted out; they were in undergrowth denser than any she'd imagined this side of the White Foal. They stopped in a wide ditch.

"There," he whispered.

The windows were dark; no light spilled out. Nothing told that anyone was within. Yet Tempus Thales' huge-muscled Tros horse was tethered to the gate.

"An hour, you say?" she questioned Dismas. "Where's our other partner?" He pointed silently to the deeper brush.

She smiled and stole a peek at Tempus's magnificent mount. A very rare breed, Tros horses. No other steed could match them for strength, endurance, intelligence. She had seen only two others in her lifetime. It was a cause for wonder that Tempus had left the beast unguarded.

Yes, a rare breed, Tros horses, and she meant to have one.

"Get Gestus and make for Land's End as quick as you can. Have everything ready at the family stables when I arrive. Have Walegrin and Rashan there, too."

"But, mistress," Dismas protested. "The vampire and the Riddler-you may need our help."

Chenaya shook her head sternly. "I can handle them. Do as you're told and have everything ready. Discreetly, too. I don't want my father to know anything about this." She smacked his chest with the flat of her hand and gave him a little shove. "Go!"

She watched as he faded back into the night, then leaned back in the shadows and drew a slow breath. With her friends gone she could safely get on with her little prank. It would have been an insult to two good men if she had explained why she sent them on. But she knew Tempus Thales, and she knew the stories about Ischade. If anything went wrong with her plan she didn't want her men to pay the price.

Chenaya took the bag of krrf and sugar from her belt, loosened the strings that held it shut, and moved toward the dark house. The Tros horse, she suspected, had been trained to recognize warriors. She would have trained it to do so, and she expected no less of Tempus. But she was a woman and had left her weapons at home this night. Reyk was weapon enough-and her god-spawned luck. She approached the beast slowly, mumbling soft words. The Tros eyed her with suspicion and snorted once. It kept still, though, and that encouraged her. She reached into the bag and extracted a handful of powder. Holding her breath with excitement, she took the final step that brought her within reach of the horse. The Tros smelled the sugar but not the raw krrf. He licked it eagerly from her hand and whickered for more. Chenaya gladly obliged. There was enough drug mixed in the sugar to kill several big men. Enough, she hoped, to make this creature very, very happy.

Handful by handful, the beast consumed the entire contents of the bag. Chenaya cast cautious glances over her shoulder from time to time, watchful of the doors and windows in Ischade's home, ready to bolt if anyone peered out. The horse's eyes quickly glazed over. It slurped the last of the powder from her fingers and palms and gave her a look that almost made her laugh aloud. If a horse could go to heaven, this one was on its way.

Have a good time, horsie, she thought, grinning, and don't give me any trouble. She didn't actually underestimate Tempus or his pride; unguarded as the horse might appear, it wouldn't easily be stolen. Carefully she untied the reins and stroked the horse along the withers while muttering in its ear. The Tr6s didn't move or make a sound. She held her breath and locked her fingers around the pommel, levering herself quickly into the saddle. The animal trembled; its ears twitched. She paused, then settled herself more comfortably, smiling. Then her head snapped back, rolled around on her shoulders, threatening to rip off first to the left then the right. Her spine folded backward; whipped forward. Her right leg came free of the saddle and she kneed herself in the eye. The world spun crazily. Were those bright stars in the heavens or in her head?

She squeezed with her thighs as tightly as she could, clung to the saddle with one hand, to the reins with her other.

There was a metallic creaking and breaking. The Tr6s stumbled and lurched, making a ruin of Ischade's fence and gate. The beast reared, pounding the twisted wrought iron with its shod hooves. It reared again, screamed, raced away from the house, and collided with a good-size tree.

It staggered back a pace; stared with huge, wet eyes at the offending obstacle. Dazed, confused, it took a side step, then another, and stood still. Chenaya hesitated, afraid to let go of saddle or rein. Her heart thundered against her ribs, a trickle of blood ran down her chin; she had bitten her lip. Finally, she dared to let go of the saddle. With her free hand, she rubbed the small of her back. Breath held much too long hissed between her teeth. She glanced back at Ischade's fence, let go a low chuckle, then reached down and stroked the Tros's powerful neck.

"That looked like fun. Do it again."

Chenaya knew that voice by now. Her gaze rose to find her observer. He looked down at her from a comfortable notch in the very tree the Tr6s had struck.

"Does the Riddler know you're stealing his horse?" Zip asked sardonically. She put a finger to her lips and glanced back at Ischade's darkened windows. "I think he's too busy knowing the vampire woman, if you get my meaning," she answered, matching his lighthearted tone. "Are you doing anything tonight? How about a date?"

Zip swung his legs back and forth absent-mindedly, much as she had done earlier at the wharf. The similarity struck her as odd.

He rubbed his chin, a barely visible shadow against the starlit night. "It has been rather dull. Nothing I'd like more," he said in his most affected Rankene.

"You're so easy to follow."

"When I want to be," she acknowledged. "I figured you couldn't keep your eyes off me." She stared upward, craning her neck, guessing what was going through his mind as he rose to stand in the notch. She admired his daring, if not his sense, as he balanced above her.

"A date, you say?"

She stroked the Tros again. "How about a ride?" She put on a big grin. Zip wore the shadows like a cloak, but she was limned in Sabellia's light. She knew he could see her smile. "You can help me with my prank on Tempus Thales. Make up your mind, though." She cast another glance over her shoulder at the darkened estate. It occurred to her to wonder why all the racket had roused no one. She didn't particularly care to wait around to find out-not on Zip's account. "This isn't a very good neighborhood, I'm told, and a lady has to guard her reputation."

"You expect me to ride behind you?" His voice was incredulous. "After what I just saw?"

Chenaya leaned forward, scratched the horse between'its ears. "It's all right," she assured. "We're good friends now, aren't we, horsie?" The Tros didn't contradict her.

Zip hesitated. She wondered if he had ever ridden before, or if he was daunted by the fact it was Tempus's horse he was being invited to help steal? In either case, she couldn't wait around for Zip to find his balls. Dismas had assured her that Tempus was inside Ischade's house. At this very moment he might be struggling into his breeches, reaching for his sword....

She blew Zip a kiss. "Sorry, lover," she called. "It's yes or no and no time to think about it-that's the way it is with me." She gathered the reins in both hands. "But how about tomorrow night?" She nudged the Tros with her heels and clicked her tongue. The horse raced through Shambles Cross and turned onto Farmer's Run before Zip could say another word.

Though Lowan Vigeles's properties extended all the way to the Red Foal River, the major portion of the estate was ringed by a massive, fortified wall. Along the southern rampart, with gates of their own, stood the stables. It was through this gate that Chenaya rode. Dismas held it open, hailed her, then leaped frantically clear before the Tr6s trampled him into the dirt. Chenaya jerked on the reins with all her might. The war-horse's hooves tore up chunks of earth. It reared, nearly throwing her again, then stopped, completely still, trembling.

She blew an exhausted breath, swung one leg over the Tros's neck, and slid to the ground. Dismas, Gestus, Walegrin, and Rashan hurried to her side.

"Damn beast nearly gave it to me!" Dismas mutterred, brushing dust from his sleeves, looking as if he'd eat the Tr6s if given time to build a fire. Chenaya pushed the hair back from her eyes. Her golden mane was a tangled mess; sweat and dirt streaked her cheeks. She wiped her face with the back of her hand and passed the reins to Gestus. "Put him in the pen with Lowan's mare. Hurry!

She's in heat, and this one's got enough krrf in him to incite the lusts of an army." She swatted the Tros's rump as the gladiator led him away. "Rashan, I want you to invoke Savan-kala's blessing on this union. The mare must conceive. I want a strong foal from her."

The priest's eyebrows shot up. "You want me to bless copulating horses?"

"You're a priest, aren't you, the Eye of Savankala?" She embraced him and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. Rashan had lived at Land's End while he oversaw the building of her private temple on the shore of the Red Foal. They had shared many late night discussions, and he had taught her much.

"Very well," he agreed, rolling his eyes. "But we must speak this night before we part." He turned to follow Gestus, but continued talking over his shoulder.

"I've had another dream. You must hear the message. It was the voice of the Thunderer himself."

She watched him go, saying nothing. But his words disturbed her. His walk and bearing were those of a warrior, not a priest, and his body was developed as befitted a Rankan. Yet a priest he was, and first among Savankala's hierophants. Yet, lately, Rashan had been having dreams, messages from the god, he claimed, visions that foretold Chenaya's future and her destiny. All through the winter they'd argued the meaning of his dreams. Not messages at all, she'd tried to convince him. Just the wishful thinking of an old man who saw his nation decaying around him.

She clung to that argument now as he disappeared inside the stables with Gestus and the Tros. There could be no truth to his dreams. She was not the Daughter of the Sun. That was only a name, an appellation pinned on her by arena spectators and fellow gladiators. Nothing more.

There was movement on her right side. She had forgotten her other guest.

"Lady," Walegrin said uneasily. "It's the middle of the night. Your man said it was of the direst importance that you speak with me, that I come dressed thus out of uniform. Because you are Lord Molin's niece I hastened, but the morning-" She cut him off with a curt gesture. "If you came only because of Uncle Molin, Commander, then you may leave again." She looked him straight in the eye, not at all intimidated by his towering height. "If you came, though, to enhance your own career or to do good service to your prince, then stay and hear me out." His eyes grew wide in the moonlight, but she turned her back on him and spoke to Dismas. "There's a sectarius of red wine on a peg in the stables. Bring it." A sudden din from the stables interrupted her. They all looked toward the building. There came a crashing and cracking of wood, the challenging cry of the Tros horse, the lamentation of the mare. There was cursing from Gestus, and Rashan's shouted prayers soared over the whole.

"Bring the wine," she repeated, touching Dismas's arm in comradely fashion.

"There's parchment and ink there as well. Bring them along, too." She turned back to Walegrin when they were alone. "You command the garrison in this garbage pit," she said, folding her arms over her chest, regarding him evenly. "And the closest thing to a police force in Sanctuary is your men. I'm not going to hold it against you that you've been keeping company with that scheming uncle of mine. We all seek advancement by the fastest means, after all."

"If your uncle schemes," Walegrin broke in defensively, "he does so on Sanctuary's behalf."

Chenaya threw back her head and smiled scornfully. "Molin Torchholder does nothing except in his own behalf. But I didn't call you here to argue my uncle's lack of virtue. As you pointed out, it's late." She rubbed her backside. "And I've had a rough night."

Walegrin folded his arms, unconsciously imitating Chenaya's aggressive stance. He looked down at her. "Then what did you call me here for?"

"You're the police," she said over the noise from the stables. "What's the biggest problem you've got in the city right now?"

He scratched his chin and considered. "Right now?" He pursed his lips, put on an expression of intense seriousness. "I'd say it's finding the thief who stole Tempus's horse before he takes the town apart."