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Shadowborn - Captivity Part 12

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"We go now," he answered in agitation, and then he and his half dozen scurried away as fast as they could. Time had very little meaning for them, and food was the only thing they hurried for.

They now knew that if they didn't hurry they would lose the trade even if they found the man.

I stood where I was for a short while, and then I went back to the mouth of the alley to gesture for Garam. If the rats had left a scout to watch me, I didn't want the watcher to believe I'd gone away to never return. Garam strode over with the barbarian right beside him, and the two of them looked at me questioningly.

"I've got the searchers moving, and now we have to wait," I told them. "Hopefully it won't be too long a wait, because I can't leave this alley. As soon as I find out anything I'll call you to join me."

"You've contacted runaway slaves in hiding," Garam guessed, pointing a finger at me. "That's why you took the food, and why you couldn't meet with them in the open. You really think they'll be able to find where Brangol's holed up?"



"If it's possible to find him, my searchers will do it," I a.s.sured him, resisting the temptation tolaugh at his guess. "Just remember to keep your men well back when I tell you it's time to follow. My searchers tend to be on the shy side, and they won't appreciate having you and your squad on their heels."

"Then what you need is an intermediary," Ijarin jumped in as Garam nodded. "If you can't leave this alley and Prince Garam isn't supposed to come to you, you need someone to carry messages back and forth. Obviously the job of messenger has to be mine."

"That's a really good idea, Prince Ijarin," Garam said so fast I only had time to part my lips for my own answer. "That way you won't feel as though you're simply wasting time. Men used to action don't enjoy wasting time, and we wouldn't want you to get bored."

Bored enough to leave, was the emphasis put on the words by Garam's eyes, the message reaching me in the hardness of his stare. If you say no and he does leave, guess who gets blamed by someone not human and definitely not merciful. A long message for one pointed stare, but it came through without any confusion.

"No, of course we wouldn't want him to get bored," I agreed with no enthusiasm whatsoever.

"Then he might go off looking for someone else to bother, and what a tragedy that would be.

All right, if you're coming, come on."

I turned away from Garam's near growl and walked back to the place I'd been standing in the middle of the alley. Light footsteps followed me, and the only bright part of the situation was that the barbarian didn't sound like a bull charging through the brush. I looked around casually, knowing it was much too soon to expect the answer I wanted, and suddenly a finger came to tap my shoulder.

"What makes you think I'd want to find someone else to bother when it's so much more rewarding to bother you?" the barbarian asked when I turned my head toward him. "I'm beginning to really enjoy forcing my presence on you. Aren't you having fun?"

"Oh, absolutely," I agreed solemnly, seeing at once that he was trying to get even for the ...

cool way I'd been treating him. "This is the most fun I've had in - oh, at least two full seasons.

But at least you're learning something important from it."

"And what would that be?" he asked, honestly puzzled. "How to develop an infinite amount of patience?"

"You're learning what your place in life would have been if you hadn't been born a prince," I told him with something of a smile, not surprised that he'd fallen into the trap. "You know, what your current job is."

"A messenger," he all but growled as I went back to looking around in the shadows of the alley. I was really hoping that Ijarin would get so insulted he walked away, but no such luck.

"So you think I couldn't have gotten anywhere in this world if I was anything but high born."

I shrugged at the statement, feeling he'd understood me well enough, but that didn't end the discussion.

"Or maybe you think something else," he said, and all traces of insult were gone from his voice. "Maybe you think that if you treat me badly enough I'll go away and you can forget about the prophecy. I've discovered you didn't mention the prophecy to Fearin and the others."

"Most prophecies are hogwash," I stated, letting him hear the disgust in my voice. "They're so vague they could cover anything, and usually end up doing exactly that. For the few that refer to specific events, they only come true when people start to fiddle with them. If everyone ignored them instead we'd never be bothered by 'prophecies coming true' again."

"In a way you're right," he said, and I heard him s.h.i.+ft as though he leaned a shoulder against the wall we stood near. "People's actions are always tied into prophecies, but not just when they try to do something. Doing nothing is also an action, and comes fully equipped with its own consequences. Wouldn't you at least like to know something about the prophecy you're involved in?"

"No," I stated, completely certain. "And the only one who thinks I'm involved is you, which hardly makes it an unarguable fact. I considered the source and decided I didn't care to wastethe time."

"You know, I don't have all the patience and self control in the world," he said, the growl suddenly back in his voice. "I've been trying to make allowances, but I've just about reached the limit. I'm not going away, so why don't you stop trying to make it happen."

"Now that's funny," I said with a small laugh, delighted that I was finally reaching him. "A barbarian making allowances for me. How n.o.ble can you get?"

"Have you ever been put over a man's knee and had your backside soundly smacked?" he demanded, his voice not quite as low as it had been. "Somehow I doubt it, or you wouldn't be playing this game with me. Take my word for the fact that you're just about to the point of earning that experience and don't say another word. If you do, you and I will have trouble being friends."

"Friends?" I echoed, finding it necessary to turn and look directly at him. "You listen to me, friend, and believe what I say. I was a slave in this stinking city for almost two full seasons, and every heartbeat of that time I was told to keep my mouth shut and watch what I said when I did speak. When I told them what to do with themselves and said whatever I pleased, they strung me up by the wrists and had a guardsman teach me better with a whip. It hurt more than you could possibly imagine, but I still said whatever I pleased. Do you understand what I'm telling you?"

"I think so," he agreed with a calm nod, his arms folded across his chest and one shoulder leaning against the wall. "You were treated as less than an animal for an eternally long time, and now you're fighting with the urge to strike back at anyone in reach. You know the people around you aren't responsible for what was done, but urges like that are hard to reason with.

It's a fight to keep yourself under control, and if you get pushed too hard you'll lose your grip on that control."

"Leave it to a barbarian to read something like that into a simple statement," I told him in disgust, then turned away before he could see how unbelievably close he'd come. I had no idea how he knew, but I didn't care to pursue the question. "What I was trying to get across was the idea that if you don't like hearing what I say you can always leave. If you choose not to leave, don't complain."

"I wasn't complaining," he corrected, and I could almost feel him looking down at me. "I was warning you what to expect if you took that last step across the line. I won't beat you with a whip, and I won't cause you agony. I'll punish you like a little girl for acting like a little girl.

Frankly, I'm surprised it hasn't already been done."

"By who?" I asked with a snort of ridicule. "Do you think I'm part of this group because of my beauty and sweet disposition? No Kenoss is easily taken, and some are a lot harder than others. You'll find out about that if you hang around long enough, but don't expect to enjoy what you learn."

"Some day I'll tell you what I already know," he said, and there seemed to be a faint smile behind the words. "Right now, though, I'll suggest an answer to your question. Master Fearin strikes me as a man to be reckoned with, and I've seen him get somewhat unhappy with you. If he decides to put you over his knee, I don't think you'd be able to argue very effectively."

"He'd need his Power to do it, and I'm sure he has better things to do with his Power," I said, beginning to get bored with the conversation. "If you insist on bending my ear, why don't you tell me where this sword comes from. I'd be curious to know who it was made for."

"It was made for you," he answered, and this time there was definite amus.e.m.e.nt in his voice.

"But we can't go into that because you don't believe in prophecies and also don't want to hear about them. Why don't we talk instead about why you believe none of the men around you really care about you? Including me, of course."

"Where did you come up with that?" I demanded, exasperated enough to look at him again. "I never said anything like that, and wouldn't even have been silly enough to think it. I'm not here to be cared about, I'm meant to add my talents and skills to the general effort. If I wanted to becared about I'd go somewhere else."

"And where would that be?" he returned, those very light eyes looking straight down at me.

"If I asked you to name a place, I don't think you could. And one of the things that gives me that idea is the way you act with Prince Garam. Yesterday he was defending you, today he's feeling protective, and you're already flinching over what tomorrow might bring. I'd say you were happier when he was treating you like a slave."

"I don't like to be bothered," I said slowly and clearly, wanting him to understand what I was saying. "Garam is now bothering me, so of course I was happier when he was pus.h.i.+ng me around. He wasn't bothering me."

"Is either one of us supposed to believe that?" he asked, one eyebrow raised. "Prince Garam is becoming concerned about you, but you don't seem able to believe that. You've probably been wondering what he expects to get out of you, and not being able to come up with an answer is confusing you. Or confusing part of you. Another part knows the answer and is frightened, while another part yet rejects the whole thing. No one will ever be concerned about you, so why bother even thinking about it?"

"How about the part of me that's wondering why no one has locked you up yet?" I asked, folding my arms as I returned his stare. "Do barbarians believe in letting crazy men run around loose if they happen to be a prince?"

"No fair trying to start a different argument," he said with a grin. "We aren't finished with this one yet. Part of you wants to be cared about, part of you is uncomfortable being cared about, and part of you doesn't believe it will ever happen. That's why it surprises you when Prince Garam gets angry on your behalf, why you have trouble dealing with it, and why you don't simply tell him to mind his own business. One mind with three different emotions."

"Four," I reminded him. "You're forgetting about the part wondering why you aren't locked up.

If you pulled this nonsense on a regular basis back where you come from, they had to have been delighted to see you leave."

"If it's such nonsense, why aren't you coming back at me with details proving how wrong I am?" he countered. "And yes, I did do this sort of thing back home, and not only because I was trained to do it. My father has always had the talent to feel what those around him do, and I got it from him. Our people believe you can't have a really good ruler without the talent."

"That doesn't surprise me," I said with a nod. "Not even a little. Are you finished now, or would you like to go into details about the way I walk?"

"You walk delightfully," he said with a wider grin. "Perfectly balanced at all times like a superb fighter, with a little wiggle thrown in to show you're a girl. Shall I go on?"

"Is it possible to stop you?" I countered. "Short of killing you or hurting you really badly? I'm almost to the point of trying those last resorts, you see, so if you have any other suggestions you'd better make them fast."

"If you're saying I ought to be spanked, you're too late," he came back with a laugh. "That was possible when I was a very small boy, but not since then. Do you have a better idea now about how I was feeling just a little while ago? And why you'd better understand I meant what I said? You've been treating me miserably, but since I know why you're doing it I haven't stopped caring about you. If you push me too far I'll keep my promise - even if Prince Garam beats me to it."

"This time I refuse to ask what you're talking about," I said very firmly, closing my eyes to rub at them. "I doubt if even you know, and if this goes on much longer I'll probably turn berserk."

"You're driving Prince Garam crazy with the way you're treating me," he said with a chuckle.

"He knows how badly Fearin wants me to stay, and Garam's picturing you drawn and quartered if you chase me off. The longer it goes on the angrier Garam gets, especially since he's not enjoying having to smooth things over every time you open your mouth. After this last episode he's right on the edge, and if you push him over he'll surprise you again."

I really don't enjoy conversations with or about crazy people, but I was saved from having tosimply turn away and ignore Ijarin. I heard a small scurry a short way down the alley, and when I turned to look I saw the scout in the shadows. It should still have been too soon to hear anything, but I didn't care to take the chance - or miss the opportunity...

Chapter 13.

"Stand still and don't say a word," I told Ijarin over my shoulder. "No matter what you see, don't even breathe hard unless I say you can." Then I took a couple of short steps forward and spoke to the scout. "Do you return with word for me?"

"He who eats first would have you come to him," the scout answered, still hugging the shadows. "There is another of your kind behind you."

"That other is here with my permission," I said very carefully. "He and more like him will follow me as I follow you, for their task is to capture the one I seek. I will allow none of them to harm you or yours. In what place does the one who eats first wait?"

"The place I will take you to," the scout answered, still ill at ease. "How do you mean to follow me through the low places?"

"I cannot follow you through the low places," I said, suddenly realizing we had a problem. "As you can see, I am far too big to fit. Are you able to find your way across the open, where I can pa.s.s with ease?"

"I know the way through the open, yet cannot traverse it till the lower darkness rises to cover the light," the scout said, retreating another whisker into the shadows. "When those of your kind see my kind, those of my kind are often put beyond eating. I do not wish to be put beyond eating."

"I am unable to wait till the lower darkness rises," I said, knowing how much harder it would be for Garam's men at night. "Perhaps there is another way. Would you ride my shoulder and direct me from there? Should any then attempt to do you harm, I would be able to disallow it.

Are you able to do such a thing?"

The scout grew very still, as though suddenly cast in stone, and a handful of breaths went by before the motion of life returned.

"There are those who are protected by your kind as though they were cherished," the scout said in a much lower voice. "Many times I have seen this, and many times I have wondered.

Why are none of my kind ever cherished?"

"I ... have no words to speak of it," I stumbled, wondering if that could really be wistful hurt in the rat's voice. "Your kind and mine... Perhaps your kind is too free to be cherished in such a way."

"Too free," the rat repeated, now sounding sad. "Yes, we are free, and shall likely remain so.

It would please me to ride your shoulder and know your protection as I do so. Do you wish to go now?"

"First I must send word to the others of my kind," I answered. "I will be with you after I have done so."

I turned back to Ijarin then, and found him staring at the rat with the strangest expression on his face. Then his stare came to me, and he shook himself as though he had just come in out of a downpour.

"You were talking to that rat," he said, his voice filled with near disbelief. "It spoke to you and you answered. Is that who your searchers are, the city's rats?""Some of the city's rats," I corrected, wis.h.i.+ng I hadn't let him stay. "They may have found Brangol, so I'm going to let this one lead me to where they think he is. Tell Garam not to follow too closely, but to try not to lose me. And tell the prince, Prince, that if any man tries to kill a rat in this area I'll kill the man. Have you got that?"

"Yes, I think I have," he said with a slow nod, and the G.o.ds must surely have been smiling because that was all he said. He turned then and made his relatively silent way out of the alley, and I was able to turn back to the scout.

"You will ride here," I said, tapping my left shoulder before crouching down and putting out a hand. "The other shoulder must be free should the need arise to protect you."

"You would let me ride so close to the food you guard?" the scout said, coming slowly nearer.

"You must be very sure of your abilities."

"Should the one I seek be truly found, this food I guard will belong to you and your kind," I said, holding my extended hand very still. "Do you believe I would guard your food less well than my own?"

"No, I cannot believe such a thing," the scout said, very nearly shaking his head. "You must know, then, that I would not seek to take what is yours to guard. I marvel at how clearly you see my kind."

And I marveled at the feel of tiny clawed feet climbing into my hand, and the sight of bright black eyes looking up at me. This wasn't the first time I'd spoken to rats, but it was the first time I'd touched one that was still living. Not to mention one who so obviously trusted me.

"Perhaps ... perhaps you would care to accompany me when I return to my kind," I said, the words spilling out before I could decide whether or not I should be saying them. "I do not urge you to do such a thing. Merely do I offer the suggestion as one you might care to consider."

"I will be honored to consider your suggestion," he said, whiskers and small body quivering.

"The decision will be a difficult one."

I made a sound to show I understood, and I certainly did. Being scout for a pack was a very important position; if the scout lived, he usually became leader when the current leader was no longer able to maintain himself. Scouts tried all food sources first to see if they were poisoned, and if they were poisoned only the scout died. If they weren't poisoned then the leader and his females came to eat, but the scout didn't lose out because he had already eaten. That let him grow strong enough to eventually take over - which would never happen if this particular scout came along with me. I didn't know which way he would decide, but there was something about him that hadn't let me hold back on the offer.

But this wasn't the time for smalltalk. I lifted the little gray body slowly and carefully to my left shoulder, waited until he had a good grip on my tunic, then just as slowly straightened up. I expected convulsive grabs and exclamations of fright when I started to walk, but all I got were sounds of delight. My new friend apparently loved being so high off the ground, and was all ready to see the sights.

Which was much better than the sights seeing him. There was still no sign of people in the streets beyond the occasional beggar, who no longer had who to beg from. Before the city was taken I would have had trouble walking the streets in daylight with a rat on my shoulder, but right now the only reaction I got was the beggar licking his lips. Happily my little friend didn't see that, and I didn't point it out to him.

I was directed to turn first in his direction, then toward my empty shoulder, then to go straight, then to turn toward him again. The distance was much shorter when one traveled through the low places, I was a.s.sured, and below the level the rats used was a s.p.a.ce big enough for someone my size. I'd heard about the catacombs that were supposed to lie beneath the city, but I had no interest in seeing them. The key to finding a safe way through those catacombs had been lost hundreds of seasons earlier, and those who went down to explore were never heard from again.

"He who eats first awaits us in the shadows of the place beyond this next turn toward yourempty shoulder," the scout said, obviously referring to the next alley. "The nesting place of the one you seek will then be right beside me."

"I don't know how any of them were able to pick up his scent in this stink," I muttered, looking around at an area that was sickeningly familiar. It was closer to the center of the city, and the streets should have been filled with people coming and going, beggars and thieves plying their trades, shopkeepers selling their wares. It was a place where city slaves had once been kept, only recently having been abandoned because of the stench. Those who came to hire the city's slaves had complained about being sickened, so the slaves had been moved to a smaller but sweeter-smelling place.

And no one had cared that our agony had been added to with the smaller cage size. The customers who came to hire our sweat were happy, and that was all that had mattered.

"Are you ailing?" the little scout asked, sounding concerned. "Were you not able to hear me?"

"I heard and understood and am not ailing," I answered, forcing myself to take a deep breath of that putrid air. "Before we approach the one who eats first, I must speak with the others of my kind. I would not wish to see all our efforts made in vain."

I moved casually back up the street, just a girl and her rat out for a pleasant stroll, and caught sight of Ijarin not far away. When I moved to the side of a boarded-up stall and gestured to Ijarin, he glided over to join me.

"There have to be a score of eyes watching us from every building," he murmured as he looked down at me, and then he smiled. "Let's pretend you're offering to sell me countless delights and I'm listening with interest."

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