The Exile and the Sorcerer (18 page)

Tevi only groaned.

“Don’t worry. Sit still. I haven’t got much to pack.”

When Tevi still made no reply, Cayell sat on the bed opposite and studied her. “Feeling rough? I wondered how you were when you didn’t show up for breakfast.”

“Don’t mention food.”

“Best thing for you. Come on.”

Cayell thrust a hand under Tevi’s armpit and yanked her to her feet. She pushed and coaxed Tevi all the way to the refectory. The smell from the kitchens made Tevi’s stomach heave, but her protests were ignored. She collapsed at the table where she was dumped and listened with half an ear as Cayell browbeat the staff into providing breakfast and a mug of the “chef’s special.” The food and drink arrived shortly. Tevi could only stare in horror.

“I can’t eat.”

“Yes, you can,” Cayell said firmly.

“I feel ill.”

“That’s obvious. Look, take this. It’s the chef’s special remedy. Mercenaries swear by it.” Cayell thrust a mug into Tevi’s hand.

“By it or at it?”

“Down it in one. It will make you feel better.”

Resisting was too much hard work. Tevi drank the potion and started gingerly on the food. She hated to admit it, but Cayell was right. Her stomach settled, and the pounding in her head eased.

“That’s better. You’re getting some colour back in your face.”

“Hmmph.”

“You’re supposed to say, ‘Thank you, Cay.’” Cayell’s tone was cheerful but hardly sympathetic.

“You can’t expect gratitude from the dead.”

“Oh, you’ll survive.”

“I’m not certain if I want to.”

“It’s amazing the philosophical insights alcohol can bring. It took Keovan forty years of meditation to question whether life was worth living. One night and twelve pints of beer, and you’ve matched him.”

Tevi managed her first real smile since waking. “Was that how much we drank?”

“I lost count. If it’s any consolation, Dale and Perrin both looked green this morning, and they were due at the archery butts after breakfast.”

“You’re looking all right.”

“Practice,” Cayell said primly.

Tevi finished off the bread. The blinding headache had shifted to a throb at the base of her skull. Tevi massaged it with one hand, then grinned ruefully. “I guess we can collect your things now.”

“If you’re ready.”

“Sure...and thanks, Cay,” Tevi said softly.

“Any time.”

Dark clouds hung low over the guildhall; rain was not far off. The wind was cold and damp. People scurried along with heads down and collars up. Seagulls sat despondently on the roofs. As they walked through the gloomy maze of pathways, Cayell slipped her arm through Tevi’s. Despite the beneficial effects of breakfast, Tevi was grateful for the additional support.

Back in the dormitory, Cayell began to assemble her belongings, not that she, or any nominees, had much. A chest at the foot of her bed held everything she owned. There was little need of Tevi’s help—fortunately. Although she was feeling better, her overall condition remained decidedly fragile.

Tevi wandered to a window and stared out. The first splats of rain struck the glass. “You had no doubts about joining the guild?” she asked over her shoulder.

“No. It’s what I’ve always wanted.”

“Don’t your parents mind? Or were they mercenaries as well?” Even as the words left her mouth, Tevi bit her tongue. It seemed an unspoken rule that nominees did not mention their families.

Cayell paused and her face grew sombre. “Little Papa is worried sick. But he won’t stand in my way.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s all right.” Cayell shook her head, as if trying to clear her thoughts, and returned to packing. “Little Papa is a forester. He taught me how to live in the wild. He hoped I’d follow him. When he realised I wasn’t interested in trees, he wanted me to be apprenticed to a fur trapper. Big Papa helped me talk him round. I want to pit myself against an enemy who’s my equal, not an animal. I think all scouts feel like that.”

“Does Aroche?”

“She’s no scout.”

“She said she was.”

“She may have said it. Doesn’t make it true. My guess is she’s an assassin.”

“Assassin!”

“There are politer names, like ‘personal security guard.’”

“Why did she lie?”

“Force of habit. It can become a way of life with those people. Or perhaps creating a false identity is part of her assessment. I don’t know if anyone else has twigged, but she can’t fool a real scout.”

“I know the guild has assassins, but I thought—”

“That we’re always good guys?” Cayell suggested. “Don’t worry, ‘security guard’ isn’t such a euphemism. Most guild assassins are hired by Protectorate traders who are going to places where murder is part of everyday business practice. Her training is all about poisons, traps, and breaking into places. The knowledge works both ways—doing or preventing. In general, guild members go for the latter. I’m sure she’ll spend most of her working life stopping people from bumping off her employer.”

“But not all of it?”

“Maybe not. But in theory, there’s nothing to stop thieves hiring you or me. However, the guild masters don’t like members fighting each other and we provide most of the guards. They’ve also decided that theft doesn’t contribute to long-term economic growth, and the more money honest citizens make, the more they can afford to pay us. So traders are in and bandits are out.” Cayell’s things were folded neatly in two piles. She looked at Tevi and asked, “Are you all right to help carry?”

“I’ll survive.”

Outside, the rain had arrived in full force. Large drops pounded the flagstones. Water washed down the walls and dripped from the doorway. The distance was lost to the grey falling sheets.

Cayell grinned. “We’re going to have to run. Last one there gets wettest.”

The two women raced between buildings, hurdling puddles and rivulets pouring from downpipes. Cayell charged through the entrance to the junior quarters at full pelt. Tevi was close behind. Their shoulders were soaked, and hair stuck to their foreheads. Laughing and wiping water from their eyes, they walked down the narrow corridor.

The quarters had originally been one large open dormitory. During an expansion of the guildhall facilities some years before, it had been divided into individual small rooms by thin wooden partitions. Tevi halted outside one door and pushed it open. “This one’s empty, and you’re just three along from me.”

The furniture consisted of a narrow bunk and a chest. A wide shelf ran the length of the wall above the bed. There was not much in the way of floor space. Light came from half a window, which the partition had divided in two.

“It’s small enough. They’re certainly not splashing out on us lesser mortals,” Cayell stepped into the room.

Tevi deposited the pile she was carrying on the chest. “It’s pure luxury. In the village I came from, only the Queen had her own room, and she still slept on the ground. I hadn’t seen a proper bed before I reached the mainland. At first, I used to lie awake at night, frightened I’d roll over in my sleep.”

Cayell laughed and turned to face her. The scout’s expression changed to concern. “You’ve gone very pale. I don’t think the run helped you.”

“It’ll ease.” However, the sick pounding had returned. Specks of light danced before Tevi’s eyes.

“Why don’t you lie down while I put my things away? You’ll only get under my feet if you stay standing.”

With relief, Tevi dropped onto the bed and scrunched her eyes shut. The pressure built in waves, as if her skull was about to crack open.

“Do you want me to get some water for you?” There was an uncharacteristic gentleness in Cayell’s voice.

“I’ll be all right.”

At the touch of something soft on her face, Tevi opened her eyes. Cayell had knelt beside the bed and was using a shirt off the pile as a towel. Tevi was surprised. Her friend’s face was serious, even tentative, both rare emotions for the exuberant extrovert.

“You don’t need to worry. I’m only hung over.”

“I don’t want you passing out on me. Or throwing up. There’s not enough room for me to get out of your way.”

“I won’t.”

Cayell’s mouth opened, as if she was building up to say something important. She squeezed Tevi’s shoulder. “You know, I think I...er...You have...” Cayell’s mumbling ground to a halt.

Tevi was confused. It was not like Cayell to be tongue-tied.

Abruptly, the scout stood and busied herself about the room, unpacking her clothes. She started talking quickly. “I suppose we’re lucky to get rooms to ourselves. If more people wanted accommodation, they’d shift us juniors into a dormitory quickly enough. It’s only because winter’s a slack time. Not much happening, so folk take the chance to visit their families.” She looked at Tevi stretched out on the bed. “I guess you won’t be going home much.”

“I’m not planning on it.” Even with the headache, Tevi could hear the bitterness in her own voice.

Cayell hurried on. “It will be great here in Lyremouth. The midwinter festival is one big party.”

“Perrin told me about it.”

“Big Papa brought me here one year. I’m really looking forward to it. Since there’s no work to be had, we can have fun without being accused of shirking.”

Although lodging at the guildhall was nominally free, Tevi was familiar with the guild rules requiring its members to take whatever work was offered. Tevi frowned, not at the thought of work, but at the feeling Cayell was using the festival as a diversion and that her friend had been about to say something else. But with the state she was in, it was easy to get confused.

“I’m not sure how much fun I can stand,” Tevi said with feeling.

“You could stick to drinking milk. Though I’m not sure what it’ll do to the reputation of mercenaries.”

“I could threaten to thump anyone who laughed.”

“Now that would be more like the way a warrior is supposed to behave.”

“How long do you think the guild will let us stay here without working?” Tevi asked after a while.

“Probably till early spring, when things start moving again.”

Cayell shut the chest and sat on the edge of the bed by Tevi. “What do you say that we try and get on the same contract? Some large caravan going north, maybe. They can be pretty rough. It would be nice to have at least one good-looking face around. I’d be doing you a favour.”

Tevi punched her friend gently. “You flatter yourself.”

“It’s good for my ego. But you’d be pleased if we were together?”

“Of course.”

“I’d like...having you around.” Cayell’s voice was quieter, the joking tone gone.

“Even when I’m hung over?”

“Maybe you’re not at your best right now, but...” Cayell paused, as if bracing herself. “I like you...a lot.” Cayell carefully raised her hand to stroke the side of Tevi’s face, pushing the wet hair back from her cheek.

“What do you mean?” Alarm flared in Tevi’s gut.

Cayell’s lips twisted in a nervous half smile. “I mean that I think you’re really nice, and I’m hoping that you feel the same about me. And you’re great to have as a friend, but I’d like to be more. And I know you probably won’t feel like it at the moment...with your hangover, but I’m desperately hoping that I can talk you into keeping me company tonight.”

The memory of the hay barn on Storenseg surged into Tevi’s head. Again, she could smell the stale odours of the barn and hear Brec’s treacherous voice. Wild panic stopped the breath in her lungs as she sat up and shoved Cayell away. The onslaught of old nightmares sent searing bolts ripping through her skull. Tevi glared around, eyes screwed in agony, searching for hiding places. There were none, but the partitions were thin. Anyone might be standing next door. She lurched to her feet, stumbling in her haste.

Tevi raised her voice, loud enough for any eavesdropper to hear. “If I want that sort of company, I’ll find a man.”

Cayell had landed on the floor. Looking dazed, she stared wordlessly and had still made no attempt to move by the time that Tevi had wrenched the door open and raced away down the corridor.

*

Tevi ran wildly through the guildhall, paying no attention to where her footsteps led her. She finally stumbled to a halt in the covered walkway surrounding a quadrangle. Several stone benches were set between the pillars. Tevi picked one at random, sat down, and watched the rain. The surface of a small pond in the middle was laced with ripples.

Tevi pulled her heels onto the seat and rested her forehead on her knees. Her skull was about to explode. Ideas scrambled through her head, fighting between the stabs of pain. The words of the assessor came back to her: “
In our judgement, you will not do anything to bring the guild into disrepute.
” Tevi’s face contorted as she tried to remember all the guild rules. Nothing specifically had been said, but she guessed it was covered by the catchall clause of “dishonourable conduct.”

Why had Cayell done it? Or had she? Tevi groaned. In her current state, she could not be certain of anything. Perhaps she had misunderstood and should find Cayell and apologise, although there was no explanation that was not in itself a confession of guilt. Then Tevi remembered the look on Cayell’s face. She was sure she had not been wrong.