The Gods of Amyrantha (36 page)

With that ominous warning delivered, Arkady let herself out of the office leaving Stellan and Dashin staring after her, the resounding slam of the door the only sound lingering in the uncomfortable silence that followed her departure.

CHAPTER 35

Lon Brandor and Tenry Crow, the bodyguards Aleki Ponting had assigned to watch over Shalimar Hawkes — and who Shalimar had sent on a wild goose chase to Caelum to be rid of them — were waiting on the appointed day in the taproom of The Lone Traveller's Inn on the outskirts of Cycrane, just as Shalimar had said they would be. They were surprised to discover Declan had come to meet them, although not surprised to learn their mission to Caelum was a ruse. Both longstanding members of the Cabal of the Tarot, they'd worked that much out for themselves weeks ago.

They hadn't been idle, however, and were able to bring Declan up to date regarding the gossip around Cycrane about the upcoming marriage of Princess Nyah and the handsome young duke, Tyrone, son of the formidable Grand Duchess of Torfail. The marriage, according to the rumours Tenry and Lon had heard, was eagerly awaited by everyone in Caelum with the possible exception of the bride, who had taken an unreasonable dislike to her future husband.

Queen Jilna, tolerated by the people of Caelum because she was the mother of their rightful heir, rather than a 'proper' monarch, was becoming increasingly unpopular, as word spread that she might be forcing this marriage on her daughter. As Declan listened to Tenry's summary of the goings on in Cycrane for the past few weeks, he shook his head, wondering at the mindset of these people. They could

apparently see nothing wrong with marrying off a ten-year-old child, yet they were concerned the poor child might not like the groom.

'Nobody has any idea who the Grand Duchess of Torfail and her son really are, I suppose,' Declan asked, taking a swig of foaming ale. He would have preferred to have a chance to clean up first, after his week or more wending his way through the labyrinthine tunnels of Maralyce's mine, but Lon and Tenry had been waiting for him when he arrived.

'Nobody suspects they're immortal, if that's what you're asking,' Tenry said, after glancing around to check there was no danger of their being overheard. The older of the two, he did most of the talking. 'But since it got about Princess Nyah ain't exactly in love with Lord Tyrone, there's plenty of people questioning who they are and where they come from.'

'And where the little princess is,' Lon added.

Declan looked at him. 'What are you talking about?'

Tenry shrugged. 'There's a new rumour doing the rounds that Princess Nyah is missing.'

'Are you sure it's only a rumour?'

'Nobody's sure. That's the problem,' Tenry said. 'Way we heard it, there was a big to-do the other day at the palace. Some traditional function they always hold before a royal wedding. I'm not sure exactly what it was about, but I do know the little princess didn't show up. The official story was that she wasn't feeling well. The unofficial story is that she hates her future husband so much she's run away.'

Declan smiled at the irony. 'If it's true, then Caelum's ten-year-old heir might be the smartest person in the whole damned country. Have you made contact with Ricard Li yet?'

'Wasn't aware you wanted us to. Is he even a member of the Cabal?'

Declan shook his head. 'That doesn't mean we

can't warn him the Grand Duchess of Torfail is an impostor.'

'That's more your area of expertise than ours,' Tenry said, in fact, Lon and me, we have a rule about trying not to run afoul of the local law.'

'Can't blame you for that. What will you do now?'

'Depends on you, sir. If there's nothing you want us to do here, and you don't need us to go after the old man, we'll head back to Hidden Valley. Always something to do there, particularly now, with the old king gone.'

'What old king?'

'Enteny,' Tenry said. 'Who else would I be talking about?'

'King Enteny is
dead?'

'Been dead better part of a fortnight.' The older man studied Declan with a frown. 'Him and Queen Inala both. Ain't you heard?'

'I've been out of touch.'
Tides, there's an understatement.

'You surely have, sir, if you ain't heard 'bout it. Freak storm on the lake, it was. Only a fluke the crown prince weren't on board with 'em, neither.'

Declan was stunned. And overwhelmed with guilt. He was the King's Spymaster ... he should have been in Herino ...

And what could a spymaster do to fight a freak storm?
he could hear his grandfather asking.

'You're right. You two need to get back to Glaeba,' Declan agreed, needing time alone to digest this news, 'I'm sorry you got sent on a wild goose chase.'

'Weren't so bad,' Tenry said with a shrug. 'Got to see Cycrane. Hadn't done that before.'

'Do you need money?'

Tenry shook his head. 'Lord Aleki saw to it we was well provisioned.'

Declan rose to his feet, offering his hand to the men. 'Then I wish you luck on your journey home,

gentlemen. Tell Lord Aleki I'll be home as soon as I'm able.'

'You'll need the luck more than us, I s'pect,' Tenry replied, shaking Declan's hand. He slapped his companion lightly on the shoulder. 'C'mon, Lon. If we get a move on, we can catch the first ferry across the lake in the morning.'

Lon rose to his feet, pushing his stool back. Tenry turned to leave and then changed his mind and added, 'Watch yourself on the streets here, least 'til you get yourself cleaned up. The city watch is pretty intolerant, 'specially in regard to disreputable lookin' characters and to be honest, sir, you're a fairly disreputable lookin' character at the moment.'

Rubbing his grubby, unshaven chin, Declan nodded in agreement. 'Thanks for the warning, Tenry.'

'Then we'll be off, sir, and good luck to you.'

Declan watched them leave and then swallowed the last of his ale, still too shocked to comprehend the news that Enteny and Inala were dead. A freak storm, Tenry said. Was it true? Or had the Tide returned faster than they'd calculated it might.

Fast enough for Jaxyn and Diala to move on the Glaeban throne already?

Declan felt nauseous at the very idea.

The Cabal had thought they had months, even years, before any of the Tide Lords made a move against the mortal population.

So much for that idea ...

He glanced around, wondering what he should do first: turn around and head straight home, get cleaned up, or try to make contact with the Caelish spymaster, Ricard Li.

Given Tenry's warning about his disreputable appearance, he decided on getting cleaned up first. Even if he left Caelum this minute, he was days away from Herino. There was nothing he could do now, and he was here in Cycrane, so he might as well try to do

something useful before he headed back to Glaeba. Besides, finding a bed for the night and a much-needed bath meant he wouldn't have to deal with his other problem for a little longer, which was how exactly he was going to make contact with Ricard Li, anyway.

In the normal course of events, had he still been at home in Herino, before setting foot on Caelish soil, he would have sent a letter through long-established channels, setting up such a delicate meeting well in advance. A Glaeban spymaster certainly wouldn't arrive unannounced in the Caelish capital expecting to be treated like an honoured guest. In fact, explaining his presence here, or how he crossed Caelum's borders without detection, was going to be hard enough to explain away, let alone the massive breach of protocol preceding it.

But it was a problem for later. First he had to find the man.

Declan left The Lone Traveller's Inn and headed toward the city, cursing his own foolishness for staying in the mountains for so long, cursing Tilly for sending him after Shalimar, cursing Shalimar for leaving Lebec ... It was late, the lights of the city bright against the dark backdrop of the Caelish highlands. He shivered a little, shouldering his pack a little higher as he walked, the wind carrying a bite that owed as much to the altitude as it did to the fickle mountain weather.

As was the case in most cities Declan had visited, the outskirts of Cycrane were home to the poorest and most marginalised citizens, particularly the free-born Crasii, who — like their cousins in Glaeba — were not considered human, and therefore not deserving of humane treatment. The streets were rank and badly maintained, as if the noses of the nobility didn't reach this far, so it didn't matter how bad they smelled.

Declan breathed through his mouth as he walked, hoping the inn he sought wasn't much further.

Although he'd been to Cycrane before, he wasn't familiar with the city's layout. The inn he was looking for — the closest thing to a safe house Glaeba owned in the Caelish capital besides its embassy — was run by a widow named Toshina Hanburn. The Widow Hanburn had lived in Cycrane most of her adult life, but she was a loyal Glaeban and more than happy to offer sanctuary to the odd countryman in need of a discreet place to do business.

Another few blocks, during which at least three human whores and one beggar had propositioned Declan, and the inn was in sight.

'Hey, mister!'

Declan turned to find a ferrety little man in a grey coat following him down the street. 'What?' 'Looking for a bit of fun?' 'No.'

'Got a female feline on heat ... give you a night you ain't ever gonna forget...'

He stopped and turned to face the man. Mistaking his actions for interest, the pimp hurried forward. Declan grabbed him by the shirt front and slammed him up against the closed shutters of the shop behind him. 'Do I look like the sort of pervert who screws animals?'

You probably do,
a little voice in his head replied, recalling Tenry's comment about his disreputable state. Perhaps that's why the man had singled him out.

'Er ... now you come to mention it... not a bit.'

Declan let the man go. 'Piss off.'

With no further encouragement, the pimp did just that. Declan breathed a sigh of relief and continued on toward the inn. The windows were lit with a soft yellow glow that illuminated the wooden footpath outside in a patchwork of darkness and light. If he needed any further confirmation the Glaeban King and Queen were dead, he found it as he drew closer. Either side of the door were poor copies of the official

portraits of the king and queen of Glaeba, both - banded with black mourning cloth.

Tides, how could it happen so quickly? Was it really an accident?
Declan thought it unlikely. Maralyce had warned him before he left the mine that the others might already be capable of affecting the weather.

Picking up his pace, Declan hurried forward, turning into the alley beside the inn with the intention of entering by the back door. The Widow Hanburn might not mind his arrival in principle, but she wouldn't want it remarked upon, either. As Tenry Crow had pointed out, and his encounter with that slimy little panderer had just proved, Declan was a fairly disreputable-looking character at the moment.

The alley was dark and smelled of rotting garbage. Slipping his pack from his shoulder, Declan was two steps into it when something struck him on the back of the head. With a grunt, he fell face first into the muddy lane.

He barely had time to register he'd been attacked before he was hit again and tumbled into a dark well of unconsciousness.

CHAPTER 36

'Tides, you didn't kill him, did you?'

Declan groaned, rolling onto his back, a little surprised to discover hard floor beneath him rather than mud, which was the last thing he remembered. The voice was gruff and impatient and vaguely familiar.

'He's waking up,' another unseen voice remarked.

Declan tried to speak, but discovered all he was capable of was another incomprehensible groan. His mouth was dry and he was certain his head had been cleaved in two. He felt rather than saw a figure squat down beside him. A moment later cool water dribbled across his lips.

'Thank you,' he managed to croak.

'You're welcome.'

Tides, I know that voice.

'Of course, I should just hang you as a spy and be done with it, you miserable Glaeban pig, but I need a favour, so I'm willing to give you a moment to explain yourself, before I decide whether or not to string you up.'

'Ricard Li.' Declan forced his eyes open and looked up. Sure enough, the Caelish spymaster was kneeling over him holding a water skin. He took the offered skin, drank a few more mouthfuls of water and then rolled onto his back. 'How did you find me?'

Ricard smiled humourlessly. 'Followed those two thugs of yours around for a month. I was about to call off the surveillance as a complete waste of time, actually, when lo and behold, who should turn tonight

up at The Lone Traveller's Inn, but the legendary Declan Hawkes himself.'

'I was on my way to find you, Ricard.' Declan pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around. They were in some sort of cellar, the only light coming from a lantern sitting on a barrel off to Ricard's left. There were several other men in the room, but he couldn't make out their faces in the gloom.