The Sleeping God Part 24

"This changes things," Din-eDin said. "We can't let anyone past us now."

"That's not all," Hernyn said. "We've more to worry about as well."

The man glanced from the corner of his eye. "Explain."

Hernyn nodded at Ennick's body. "It looks like there's worse than death might come to us. Did you see how his eyes were glowing green? That wasn't just Ennick, not at first anyway."

The other man tapped the dagger he had at his waist. "We'll have to be sure, then, won't we?" His eyes narrowed. "Can we warn the others?"

But then they finally heard the sounds they'd been waiting for, rus.h.i.+ng feet, jingling harness. Men who weren't taking the trouble to be quiet. Din-eDin stepped in front of Hernyn. Hernyn was about to say something when he realized the man was right for once. Older, injured, and not a Mercenary. Three reasons to put him in front.

"Here they come," Hernyn called back over his shoulder, hoping the amplification of sound in the service corridor worked both ways. Before picking up his second sword, he checked that he had a dagger in each boot, and that the one strapped to his left arm wouldn't stick in the sheath. He stood squarely in the pa.s.sage with the Guard Captain in front of him, facing the opening to the Onyx Walk, and lightly tapped the walls with his swords, fixing the s.p.a.ce well in his mind.

He would rather have died with his Brothers, but if he could die for for them, well, that would be enough. them, well, that would be enough.

"Should we wait?" Parno asked.

One of the many cords that bound her hair must have broken, for a fine blood-red braid fell over Dhulyn's forehead with the minute shaking of her head. She pushed it back.

"We told Din-eDin we would close the pa.s.sage," she said.

Maybe if she ignored it, the yelling would stop and she could go back to sleep. They'd spent more than half of the night hiding in a crawl s.p.a.ce Gundaron had found, under a surprisingly intact floor of thick oak planks, but they hadn't had much sleep. Trying to get comfortable on ground made uneven by loose foundation rocks and ancient garbage, with nerves stretched to the snapping point by the drizzly rain and the knowledge that they were being accused of having a hand in the Fall of Tenebro House, would have been difficult enough. As it was, the night had been marred by the noises of screams and running. A fire had broken out in the Old Market itself, and it had been close to dawn by the time she and Gundaron had been able to fall into sleep.

"Mar!" A hand shook her shoulder.

She cracked open one eye. From the look of the light that slanted down through the breaks in the old floorboards above them, the sun was well up.

"Did you hear what he said?" Gundaron shook her shoulder again. "Mar, did you hear?"

Without waiting for her answer, Gun crawled out of their hidey-hole. Still blinking sleep from her eyes, Mar followed, afraid to lose sight of him. Lionsmane and Wolfshead had been teaching her to navigate out on the trail, but in Gotterang she felt it would be all too easy to get completely lost.

Mar had a moment of panic when she didn't see Gun right away, but then she remembered he no longer wore his Scholar's tunic and, looking for the gray-brown of homespun rather than the bright blue of the Libraries, she spotted him. Gun stood on the fringes of a group gathered around a thickset man in breeches, boots, and a full-sleeved s.h.i.+rt who must have been standing on a broken bit of wall, as he was head and shoulders above the crowd. She blinked at him, holding up her hand to s.h.i.+eld her eyes. Ran the taproom down by the fountain, she thought. That's where she knew him from. She'd bought food from there last night.

"Imrion's Fallen, I'm telling you that's certain, they're crying it in the Great Square. Lok-iKol Tenebro is Tarkin by acclamation."

The taproom keeper had plenty more to say, but Mar had stopped listening. She tugged Gun by the sleeve.

"Gundaron," she whispered, tugging again until he turned to look at her.

For a moment the sight of her face stopped Gundaron's breath. A wisp of hair had fallen out of her head scarf and swayed over her right cheek. In the vivid depths of her blue eyes, her pupils shrank to pinpoints as she blinked in the morning sun.

"Is this this what I helped him do," she said. "Bringing him Wolfshead and Lionsmane? He wanted to be Tarkin? That's what this is all about?" what I helped him do," she said. "Bringing him Wolfshead and Lionsmane? He wanted to be Tarkin? That's what this is all about?"

His thoughts spinning, Gun followed Mar back into their hiding place. She was right, wasn't she? Lok-iKol was Tarkin. The things that he had done, the people he had harmed, all that research, research, not for scholars.h.i.+p-Gun's stomach turned at the thought of his own naivete-but to put Lok-iKol on the Carnelian Throne. not for scholars.h.i.+p-Gun's stomach turned at the thought of his own naivete-but to put Lok-iKol on the Carnelian Throne.

Mar was still waiting for an answer. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. "There must be more to it than that." He blinked, eyes narrowing as he followed the pattern of his thoughts to its logical conclusion. "The Carnelian Throne's what Lok-iKol wanted-but not what the Jaldeans Jaldeans want." want."

"But if the New Believers want the Tarkin's full backing . . ."

Gun realized he was shaking his head. "But what they're saying about the Marked and the Sleeping G.o.d-that the G.o.d should stay asleep and the Marked are trying to wake him-none of that is true."

"I never thought it was, but-"

"No, no. I mean they don't believe it themselves, at least, not the ones in charge, not Beslyn-Tor. There's something else going on." Gun hoped Mar wouldn't ask how he knew-in fact, he was afraid to examine the knowledge too closely, afraid that it might be yet another thing the Green Shadow had helped him forget.

"If the Jaldeans have some other trouble in mind," Mar was saying, "we have to tell someone."

Gun nodded. "Who?"

"Come on," Mar said, swinging her pack up on to her shoulder.

"Where?" Gun drew himself straight and formed his hands into fists when they wouldn't stop trembling.

"Mercenary House."

"Something up ahead," he said to Dhulyn's back. She She was just enough shorter, he'd noticed with disgust, to walk upright through most of the pa.s.sages. was just enough shorter, he'd noticed with disgust, to walk upright through most of the pa.s.sages.

"Lamplight, not torches," she whispered back to him. "Alkoryn's not stopping."

Which meant the old man expected to find lights ahead of him, which meant there was nothing for the two of them to worry about. Except whether he'd ever be able to stand upright again, Parno thought.

Exhausted as they all were from close to two hours of walking from one sealed entrance to another, everyone managed a short burst of speed once it became clear there was something besides more tunnel ahead of them. When Parno finally followed them all into the lamplit room, however, he saw that they were still underground, although in a chamber large enough-with a ceiling high enough, he found, straightening gratefully-to accommodate all of them easily.

The Tarkin led his wife and children immediately to the nearest beds, making sure they were seated comfortably before leaving them in the hands of the nurse Den.o.bea and joining Dhulyn, who had stepped around them and the guards to stand beside Alkoryn. Head lowered and tilted to one side, she listened to his whispered orders, nodding, though at one point her face went completely blank.

Something she doesn't like there, Parno thought, maintaining his position as rear guard just inside the entrance to the chamber. With his eyes still on his Partner, he arched his back and raised his hands over his head, willing his abused muscles to stretch out. Parno thought, maintaining his position as rear guard just inside the entrance to the chamber. With his eyes still on his Partner, he arched his back and raised his hands over his head, willing his abused muscles to stretch out.

"Lord Tarkin," Dhulyn said, her voice pitched to carry to everyone in the chamber. "My Brother Alkoryn Pantherclaw suggests that you rest here in comfort while he and I continue to the surface. There is fuel, food, and drink. We will return or send for you as soon as we are able."

"Why must we wait?" The Tarkin, Parno was impressed to see, was not arguing, but simply asking the question.

"It's very likely Lok-iKol will want Mercenary House searched," Dhulyn said. "This chamber can be closed off and hidden, so you'll be perfectly safe here. If it comes to the worst," Dhulyn added, "my presence in the House is natural. Yours, Lord Tarkin, could not be explained. My Brother Parno Lionsmane will remain here with you."

Parno met Dhulyn's eyes over the heads of the Tarkina and her children. That's what made her face change, That's what made her face change, he thought. he thought. Is it the thought of separation she doesn't like, or the idea of leaving me here with my cousin, the Tarkin? Is it the thought of separation she doesn't like, or the idea of leaving me here with my cousin, the Tarkin?

She smiled at him, lifting her shoulder in the slightest of shrugs.

In Battle. Only her lips formed the words. Only her lips formed the words.

In Death, he answered. he answered.

"But we've important information," Mar said, craning her neck to see the woman.

"Oh, I've no doubt he's he's got information enough-but I'm not inclined to let him in, no matter how important it might be." got information enough-but I'm not inclined to let him in, no matter how important it might be."

"Then let Mar in," Gun said, placing a hand on the gate in his eagerness. He swallowed, realizing that he'd just called Mar by her personal name. Out loud. "The Lady Mar-eMar I mean. You've nothing against her, let her in." He looked at Mar, looked back up to the sentry window. "You're Thionan Hawkmoon, aren't you?" he said. "That's how you know me." He waved his hand impatiently. "It doesn't matter about me, but you can let Mar-eMar in, she needs to speak to Dhulyn Wolfshead, or-"

"Ah, so you're the little trickster from Navra, are you? I hadn't seen you before now."

Any hope Gun might have had that they'd do as he asked died at the tone in the Mercenary woman's voice.

"Listen, children, we've our orders, and if I was likely to break them-which I'm not-it certainly wouldn't be for you two. And besides-"

Thionan Hawkmoon froze in mid-syllable, her attention caught by something within the walls.

"And besides," she took up where she'd left off. "There's an order out for both of you. Seems you ran away after the Fallen House Kor-iRok was found dead." She looked down at them with a wink. "Don't make me send for the City Guards, now."

Sixteen.

FANRYN BLOODHAND AND Thionan Hawkmoon were both waiting when Dhulyn swung the counterweighted chunk of flooring to one side and climbed out, reaching back in to give Alkoryn Pantherclaw a hand up.

"We've left the others in the lower chamber," Dhulyn said, telling her Brothers in a few words just who those 'others' were. "Hernyn?" Thionan said.

Dhulyn's lips parted, but her throat closed on the words.

"Hernyn Greystone the s.h.i.+eld remained behind," Alkoryn said for her. "That we might escape."

"In Battle or in Death," Fanryn said after a long pause. The eyes of the four Brothers met, and for another moment they were silent, in honor of the one who had fallen. And in unspoken prayer that they should fall the same way, on their feet, swords in hand.

"Since his body will be found," Alkoryn said, breaking their silence at last. "We can expect inquiries, perhaps even a request to search our premises before the day is out. What is it, Thionan?"

Even Dhulyn could see and recognize the slightly furtive look that had crossed Thionan's eyes.

"About an hour ago," she said. "I turned away the Tenebro's tame Scholar and that Navra girl you and Parno brought, Dhulyn, telling them I'd call the City Guard on them. I was joking, but . . ."

"You spoke truth without knowing it," Alkoryn said. "Well, at least they have been warned. What else can you tell me?"

Dhulyn only half heard Fanryn's first words. So Mar and Gundaron of Valdomar had had come here. Looking for what? come here. Looking for what?

"Lok-iKol holds the Dome and the city," Fanryn was saying, leading the way out of the room that, to anyone who didn't know better, held nothing but the old cistern of Mercenary House. "Of the High n.o.bles, Jarifo and Esmolo Houses are with him-"

"We saw their men in the Dome," Dhulyn said as she followed the other women up a short flight of stone steps and through another counterweighted chunk of wall.

"The other Houses are holding off, waiting to see how true Lok-iKol's arrow will fly, though there's talk that the Tenebroso will be acclaimed by midday," Fanryn continued, her face showing her displeasure. "The only one demanding to be shown Tek-aKet Tarkin, living or dead, is the Penradoso."

"I know that House," Dhulyn said, thinking back over the years to the last time she'd fought in Imrion. When she and Parno had met.

"You should," Alkoryn said, pausing with his hand on the wall to take a deeper breath. Dhulyn didn't like the look of the man, his color was worse than a sleepless night walking underground should make it. "Fen-oNef Penrado was an old ally of Tek-aKet Tarkin's father, and he fought on the old Tarkin's side at Arcosa. You'd have seen him there. The odds are very short that he'll come to Lok-iKol's side without proof positive that Tek-aKet's dead."

"Lok-iKol's gone ahead and scheduled his anointing for next new moon," Thionan added. "Twelve days from now. And the Jaldeans have agreed. So old Penrado hasn't much time to decide."

They'd reached Alkoryn's map room by this time, and the old man looked better for being able to sit down in his own chair. Dhulyn leaned against the wall between the two windows, angled into a corner of the map shelves where she couldn't be seen from outside, and stifled a yawn. If she sat down, she thought, she'd fall right to sleep.

"Is there anything more?" Alkoryn said.

Fanryn considered, her head to one side. "There's seventeen Brothers in the House," she said. "Eleven of those from the Carnelian Guard who were out in the streets overnight. They felt their oaths were to Tek-aKet Tarkin, rather than the Carnelian Throne, so when he Fell, they came Home."

"Did any die in street fighting?" Dhulyn asked.

"None. In fact, they saved some of the other Carnelian Guardsmen, and we've got them hidden around the quarter, some in the Old Market. None in the House, of course." Fanryn looked over at Thionan when her Partner cleared her throat. "Besides the children you sent us, we do have a guest, however, who was visiting in the House when your orders came to shut the gates." Fanryn waited to be sure she had both Dhulyn and Alkoryn's attention. "Cullen of Langeron is here," she said, "an intimate of Yaro of Trevel, and a Racha man, no less. Seeing that Yaro was once of our Brotherhood, we gave them sanctuary."

"That may turn out to be very lucky." Alkoryn leaned back in his chair, folding his hands over his stomach. "How many Marked have we in the tunnels?"

"Including the Mender's children Hernyn brought us, seven."

"Delay no longer. See that they go now, before the day is out. Send also our own youngsters, any waiting for Schooling and any not ready for their badges. Let them go with the Marked as far as the Tourin Road, then to Nerysa Warhammer. The Marked to Pompano, unless Cullen would like to take this opportunity to return to his home, in which case he may want them to accompany him to Langeron. Who is scheduled for the task?"

"The sisters, Jenn IceSea and Jess Riverhorse."

"Let them choose two others to help them and go with the group to Nerysa. If Cullen of Langeron decides to go, ask him to have word with me before he departs." He nodded twice and looked up at Fanryn. "If there is nothing else pressing, I'd like a few minutes with Dhulyn if you would, my Brothers."

Both Fanryn and Thionan straightened to their feet. "I'll have some food and drink sent up," Thionan said.

"Considering we may need a place to hide the Tarkin Tek-aKet and his family, it's a very lucky thing indeed that the Racha man is here." Alkoryn spoke half to himself. "No one would think to look for them in the Clouds."

Dhulyn stayed at her perch by the window, consciously relaxing each muscle group as she waited for Alkoryn to turn his full attention to her. She could think of only one reason Alkoryn would have sent both Fanryn and Thionan away. He's going to ask me to He's going to ask me to See, she thought. See, she thought. That's the reason I'm not in the caves with the Tarkin. That's the reason I'm not in the caves with the Tarkin.

"I must say, Dhulyn, my Brother, if the reaction of the Tarkin and his counselor is any indication, I am not at all surprised that you tell no one of your Mark." Alkoryn sat up straight and laid his hands palm down on the map of Gotterang that still covered his table. "But I would fail in my duties as Senior Brother and Commander of this House if I did not ask you, despite what you and Parno have told me of your experience, is there no way you can look for a Vision that may be of help to us?"

Dhulyn looked at him for a long moment. He was asking her in the same way he would ask a swordsmith how many weapons were ready for use. No judgment, just a request for the kind of information that would help him plan his strategy. A tightness she had not been aware of loosened in her chest. Whatever she said now, he would take her at her word. She was still among Brothers. In Battle or in Death.

"It's worse than Parno told you," she said. "Worse than I knew myself. Only very recently I have learned that some of what I See is not the future at all, but the past. If I cannot even tell which is which, the Visions I do do See are useless to us." See are useless to us."