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touch Aejys' cheek: that was something he would never have done were she
conscious. "Is she...?"
"Alive?" Tag said, "Somewhat."
"Why didn't you tell me about this... I might could have done something..."
"Aejys pays her own debts, merchant," Tag said caustically. "And I pay the
ones she can't. Now back off, we've heard enough from ya ta last ten
lifetimes. Uh huh! Period. End of Story!"
Thomas winced and sat back on his heels, saying nothing more. He doubted he
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would ever know or understand why Tagalong Smith disliked him so much. And
even if he did, he wasn't sure he could change it. But maybe Darlbret could
either discover it or explain it.
Becca formed the servants into a protective circle just as the city guard
arrived and took positions around Aejys. Then the tavern master, after
spitting in Farendarc's face and scattering the children, methodically
searched the slowly dying assassin, even pulling his boots off. Her hands,
though roughed by years of work in the kitchens, were still surprisingly
nimble. She found a small fold and ran her finger along it to reveal a pocket.
Where most would not have found it, just right to have concealed some orders
or a contract. In the concealed pocket in the left boot Becca found several
papers. She shoved them into her pockets to share later. She placed her foot
firmly on Farendarc's chest and yanked Aejys' sword free, wiping it clean on
his pants leg.
"Becca, quick! We need a litter," Tamlestari told her.
"I will carry her," said a rough voice as a huge form rose from the deep
shadows of a nearby oak cluster. Clemmerick lifted Aejys as tenderly and
easily as a mother lifting an infant.
Becca gathered up Farendarc's belongings, handing them to Raim and Omer to
carry. Tagalong had to trot to keep up with the ogre. Cassana and Tamlestari
strode quickly along beside Clemmerick while the rest followed closely.
Spectators drifting past Farendarc paused to spit on his body, then trailed
after Aejys' entourage to see if they could learn anything. Thomas Cedarbird
did not want to draw Tagalong's ire, so he did not try to insinuate himself
into the main group. But he followed and the crowd formed behind him of the
curious and the concerned.
* * * *
In the shadows near a stand of broad cedars a thin, baby-faced mon with a
wispy wheaten beard and long, red-streaked blond hair that hung loose about
his face watched Aejys removed from the field. He rubbed his mouth and chin
thoughtfully, then stepped into the deepening sunlight which threw shadows
among the folds of his steel gray pilgrim robes. The mon considered what he
had just seen. While customs differed from community to community, it was
generally held that one did not finish off a dueling opponent after they went
down except in the case of certain types of judicial duels ordered by the
local Courts Baron. The decision of death was generally left to the gods and
the nature of the wounds. Even so, members of the watching crowd rarely
intervened when a duelist transgressed the customs unless they were family
members of the fallen one. He shook back his hood as he approached the place
where Aejys had gone down, scanning the ground where he had seen something
fall. He scooped up the sword-torn black band and the lock of auburn hair
spilling from it, folded it respectfully into the pockets of his robes, and
left the green. The devotion of the wounded mon's servants intrigued the
pilgrim. He would ask around and find out who she was.
* * * *
Cassana emerged from Aejys' room, haggard and exhausted. There were
bloodstains on her tunic from working on Aejys' wounds. She descended the
stairs, walking as though there were weights around her ankles. The kitchen
servants clustered at the door, watching her. The taproom was empty of
patrons: Becca had closed up shop as soon as they had returned from the
dueling grounds.
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"Mei Ajan?" Becca pushed through her kitchen staff and met Cassana at the
foot of the stairs, guiding her to a table near the back. "Aejys?"
"Resting."
Becca thought about that. "Then she will be all right?"
"It is too soon to say, Becca," Cassana said, dropping into the chair. "Aejys
lost a lot of blood, she is very weak."
The tavern master turned her face away, her mouth drawn taut. "Our lives ...
pivot on hers." Becca made a circle with her forefinger like a wheel spinning
slowly. "She pulled many of us out of the gutters. Traded us a better life ...
better way ... for our allegiance. We gave her that  and our love. It's like
belonging to one of the Lords of Legend. What will become of us if she dies?"
Cassana patted Becca's hand. "Have faith. Send servants to make offerings and
pray."
"I already have. We have three temples. One to Nerindalori of the Waves, one
to Willodarus Lord of the Woodlands, and a small shrine to Ishla Twice
Gendered. I have sent everyone who could be spared  and some that couldn't 
to pray and make offerings."
"Do not forget the shrine to Aroana."
"I haven't."
Zacham brought Cassana a tray of food: hot stew, sliced meats, cheese, bread
and pastries as well as a pitcher of beer, sitting them down in front of her,
"Mei Ajan needs to eat," the scullery boy said.
A small, amused smile stole some of the weariness from Cassana's face at his
use of the proper Sharani title, certain that Becca had taught him this.
Becca's change of attitude, from defensiveness to deference, tickled a small
chord in Cassana.
Another young mon brought a basin of cool water and towels.
Cassana washed her arms and face, then began to eat.
Becca sat down opposite her and pulled Farendarc's papers from her pockets.
She pushed them to Cassana.
"What is this?" Cassana asked accepting the papers.
"They were in his boot," Becca told her.
"Important?"
"I don't know, mei ajan," Becca said. "I can't read. I keep my accounts with
tithing sticks and Clemmerick records them."
That startled Cassana, who tended to forget that other realms were far less
literate than Shaurone where even the poorest classes learned to read. "Does
Aejys know?"
Becca shook her head. "Clemmerick is the only one here who can read. His
mother is a poet."
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"When all this is over and Laeoli's safe, I'll see that you all learn," she
said. "Even if I must teach you myself."
Cassana glanced quickly at the first three papers, but on the fourth her eyes
widened and she cursed, "Gods' Haven!"
Farendarc,
Here is the agreed price for Aejys. Bring me her head as proof. There will be
a bonus for all key members of her household butchered. Fifty gold a head. I'm
placing a unit of gold ravens at your disposal if needed. Blame the red ravens
whenever possible.
There will be a bonus for dead reds.
If any of Aejys' people try to reach Shaurone, destroy them. My creatures are
gathering to march.
In regards to our last conversation. Yes. Laeoli is yours if you still want
her. She should make a satisfactory leman once you break her to the role.
Move quickly,
M
Anger washed the weariness from Cassana. "Find Tagalong. I don't know what
some of these references are to, but I think we may have a war on our hands."
* * * *
Tagalong slipped quietly into Aejys' bedroom in the early evening, pulled a
chair up and sat down beside Cassana.
"Where have you been, Tag?" Cassana asked. "I've had people looking all over
the city for you."
"Takin' care of business. She be alright, Sana?"
Cassana's young-old face looked worn, dark half moons beneath her eyes. "I
can't say, Tag. Tamlestari is very talented. She repaired the chest wound. But
Aejys lost a lot of blood before we could get the bleeding stopped." Cassana
rubbed her tired face. "Aejys is a tough old badger, though. I wouldn't worry
too much." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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