I entered the street, letting the noise, sights and smells wash over me. I rather liked this city, now that I’d spent so much time in it. I ran down the street, determined to get as far away from the two men at the inn. I wasn’t going to go back. Knowing Bran, he was probably recommending to Aaric they put me in a sack and carry it over their backs. I grinned, far from amused. I’d burn a hole in the sack and give them a right sound, well-deserved beating.
I eventually stopped on a particularly crowded street, rubbing at a stitch in my side. I took several deep breaths, fighting for air. Some people pushed me as they hurried by and I glared at them, angry. They didn’t so much as look at me. Many of the people held worried expressions.
I looked down the road and saw the reason for their concern. Several of the king’s soldiers were marching in two long lines down the street toward me as they made their customary rounds of the city.
I stepped out of the street to stand against a dirty-white stucco house, still watching them. They walked by me, never once looking to the left or right, simply staring straight ahead. I looked at their faces, wondering how they managed to stay so expressionless. That was when I saw him.
One of the soldiers at the end of the line was walking just as stiffly, his face devoid of expression, but I knew him. A full head taller than me, his face sun darkened, wild hair bleached white by the sun, with a long scar running down one cheek. The escaped brigand from our first ambush. The man was a soldier.
My heartbeat quickened as he walked by me, praying he wouldn’t look over. Sweat trickled down my arms and back, and it had nothing to do with the heat. Just as suddenly he was gone, and I let myself sit on the ground for a moment in relief. How had he become a soldier? The king would almost certainly have no idea, of course. I had better warn him. Perhaps that was how the brigands managed to stay a step ahead; they had infiltrated the king’s army.
I stood up, my weariness forgotten, and sped off to the palace. Matias needed to be warned.
27
Adaryn
I waited for the guards to walk past the garden wall as they made their rounds, then scrambled up the crumbling brick wall. I suspected this was how the rebels managed to get in. I hadn’t needed to use it earlier as I had been an invited guest. Right now I wanted to avoid all attention from the guards, as I didn’t know who I could trust.
I ran stealthily through the garden. Matias often walked his gardens, and I desperately hoped he did so now. I needed to tell him when no one else was around. He’d know what to do.
I heard voices and slowed my run, straining my ears to listen. I crept over to a particularly large, flowery bush and peered around it.
King Matias was standing not twelve feet away, talking to an officer I didn’t recognize.
“One of the men is a particularly powerful magic user, Your Majesty,” the officer said. “We didn’t know he could call lightning until it was down on top of us.”
I frowned, confused. Was he talking about Bran?
Matias grunted with irritation. “You had thirty men, Alexander, and you couldn’t take out two men and a woman? Must I do everything myself?”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but we did try. We just didn’t realize the man was so powerful. It was like he had a . . . a sky jewel in his possession.”
Matias laughed. “We both know how improbable that is.” All amusement dropped from his voice and he took a step closer to the officer. “I gave you one simple command, to kill the two magic users and their useless companion. If they learn that you and the brigands are one and the same . . .”
This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real.
The officer grimaced, clutching at his arm. “I hear and obey, Your Majesty. Reports are that they have returned to the Dancing Cat inn. We will attack them tonight.”
“Very good.” Matias bent forward to inspect his arm.
I eventually stopped on a particularly crowded street, rubbing at a stitch in my side. I took several deep breaths, fighting for air. Some people pushed me as they hurried by and I glared at them, angry. They didn’t so much as look at me. Many of the people held worried expressions.
I looked down the road and saw the reason for their concern. Several of the king’s soldiers were marching in two long lines down the street toward me as they made their customary rounds of the city.
I stepped out of the street to stand against a dirty-white stucco house, still watching them. They walked by me, never once looking to the left or right, simply staring straight ahead. I looked at their faces, wondering how they managed to stay so expressionless. That was when I saw him.
One of the soldiers at the end of the line was walking just as stiffly, his face devoid of expression, but I knew him. A full head taller than me, his face sun darkened, wild hair bleached white by the sun, with a long scar running down one cheek. The escaped brigand from our first ambush. The man was a soldier.
My heartbeat quickened as he walked by me, praying he wouldn’t look over. Sweat trickled down my arms and back, and it had nothing to do with the heat. Just as suddenly he was gone, and I let myself sit on the ground for a moment in relief. How had he become a soldier? The king would almost certainly have no idea, of course. I had better warn him. Perhaps that was how the brigands managed to stay a step ahead; they had infiltrated the king’s army.
I stood up, my weariness forgotten, and sped off to the palace. Matias needed to be warned.
27
Adaryn
I waited for the guards to walk past the garden wall as they made their rounds, then scrambled up the crumbling brick wall. I suspected this was how the rebels managed to get in. I hadn’t needed to use it earlier as I had been an invited guest. Right now I wanted to avoid all attention from the guards, as I didn’t know who I could trust.
I ran stealthily through the garden. Matias often walked his gardens, and I desperately hoped he did so now. I needed to tell him when no one else was around. He’d know what to do.
I heard voices and slowed my run, straining my ears to listen. I crept over to a particularly large, flowery bush and peered around it.
King Matias was standing not twelve feet away, talking to an officer I didn’t recognize.
“One of the men is a particularly powerful magic user, Your Majesty,” the officer said. “We didn’t know he could call lightning until it was down on top of us.”
I frowned, confused. Was he talking about Bran?
Matias grunted with irritation. “You had thirty men, Alexander, and you couldn’t take out two men and a woman? Must I do everything myself?”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, but we did try. We just didn’t realize the man was so powerful. It was like he had a . . . a sky jewel in his possession.”
Matias laughed. “We both know how improbable that is.” All amusement dropped from his voice and he took a step closer to the officer. “I gave you one simple command, to kill the two magic users and their useless companion. If they learn that you and the brigands are one and the same . . .”
This couldn’t be happening. It couldn’t be real.
The officer grimaced, clutching at his arm. “I hear and obey, Your Majesty. Reports are that they have returned to the Dancing Cat inn. We will attack them tonight.”
“Very good.” Matias bent forward to inspect his arm.
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