Covenants (v2.2) Page 6

  Laurel responded by placing his staff next to the other. The church staff shuddered again and again as if from blows, the bells’ tinkling almost swallowed up in the crack of thunder. The dead sprite’s mouth moved in a silent scream and beyond the noise of the storm I could hear the crash of a tree falling.

  “Prudence Oak’s last moments,” Laurel said.

  “Abomination,” Governor Hoelt said, her voice trembling. “Burn it.” Mutters of agreement went up and the clergy started praying as others made signs to ward off evil.

  Laurel picked up his staff, handed it to me, and began gently wrapping the other in the cloak. “No, honored governor, that would not be wise. We don’t know what would be released.” He pulled a strip off his coat and tied it around the bundled Staff. “Besides, Verity Oak would want her sister’s body returned home to her.” He removed beads and feathers from his staff, and fixed them to the cloth strip. He then gestured over the Staff, and I blinked at the faint shimmering traces he left in the air.

  “The holy bells,” a church clerk whispered.

  Laurel looked at Doyen Allwyn. “If you desire, honored elder, I will remove the bells for you at a more auspicious time. I suggest that you purify them.” He reached for his staff. “I further suggest that you and anyone else who handled Prudence’s body also be purified.”

  “I say, Ambassador Laurel,” Captain Javes said, watching him, “why can you have a staff?”

  “As I told Captain Suiden and Lieutenant Groskin, the sprite who gave me this is still very much alive,” Laurel said. His eyes slit in brief amusement. “There are ceremonies and rituals that Faena go through to be gifted with our staves, eh, Lord Rabbit?” The heaviness that weighed down on me lightened a bit as I grinned back at Laurel. A clerk turned away in disgust. “Orgies,” he muttered.

  “Affirmations,” I shot back. “There is nothing wanton about it.” My grin widened. “My honored parents wouldn’t be involved in something so indecorous.” You could take the scions out of the House but definitely couldn’t take the House out of the scions, though my grin got even bigger as I thought about the timing of one ceremony and the subsequent birth of my little sister. I caught Captain Suiden’s eye and stopped.

  The captain gestured at the wrapped Staff. “It is safe?”

  Laurel nodded, his beads clacking. “Yes, honored captain. The wards protect us.”

  The noise of the hail pounding down had increased, with the lightning and thunder almost simultaneous.

  “Groskin, please have the guards come in,” Captain Suiden said. Groskin opened the door and the guards, huddled in the small protection of the doorway, fell into the room. Beyond them we could see huge hailstones thudding into the ground.

  “Messirs, Major,” Suiden continued, “I suggest that we settle ourselves to wait out the storm.” A flash and crack punctuated his words and everyone nodded in agreement. “Ambassador Laurel, I also suggest that we remove the staff from our living quarters. No disrespect, but it would be easier if the sprite’s body were elsewhere.”

  Laurel’s ears lay back against his head. “Such as?”

  “The stables are nice and dry,” Suiden said.

  Laurel was quiet for a moment; then his ears slowly came up again. “I can see that its presence would be upsetting. Very well.” Laurel once more handed his staff to me and reached for the other.

  “Lieutenant Rabbit, please go with Ambassador Laurel,” Captain Suiden said. “You have guard duty for the rest of this rota.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  We left for Gresh the next morning. I had spent the rest of yesterday and most of last night standing guard over the horses and the death staff. During the day it wasn’t so bad, but at night—well, I knew exactly where the staff was as the hairs on my body always pointed to it no matter where I stood. It didn’t help that the only light I had was from the storm, which lingered overhead. I didn’t know what was worse, standing with my back to it and imagining what was going on behind me, or facing it, wondering what I’d see in each lightning flash. I compromised by standing to the side, close enough to both the station and outside doors to make a wild dash if I needed to. I was finally relieved a few hours before dawn but when I’d fallen asleep, I dreamed of bowling where each time the ball would strike a pin, a tree would scream and die.

  It didn’t surprise me that I was assigned to ride with the packhorses and spare mounts. Captain Suiden was still annoyed with me for shouting murder at the doyen. But I was very surprised at my roommate in the doghouse. Slevoic rode up, his showy horse prancing, snorting and shying sideways. Glancing down at the horse’s flanks, I could see blood from Slevoic’s spurs. Behind him, on an even prettier horse, was Javes.

  Slevoic reined in his horse beside me, upset. “I just sent a message to family I have in Gresh, Captain,” he protested. “To let them know I’ll be in town. That’s all.”

  Yeah, right, I thought. The arrival of our Gresh guests I was mighty coincidental, following as they did on the heels of Ryson. Slevoic must’ve read my expression, because he shot me a glare. “Freaking puke—”

  “Yes, I’m sure it’s just as you say, old boy,” Javes interrupted, his voice vague. “But, you know, chain of command and getting permission and all that. Next time ask, all right?” He smiled vacuously at Slevoic. “You’re to take the rear.”

  For a moment I thought Slevoic would actually refuse to obey Javes’ direct order, and I waited hopefully. But he shot another glare at me, then viciously roweling his horse with his spurs, he rode to the end of our train—where he’d have to wade through churned mud and droppings from all the horses. Glad that I wasn’t Slevoic’s horse, I made sure the grin was off my face before looking back at Captain Javes—who merely gave me the same silly ass smile. “Carry on, Lieutenant,” he said before he returned to the front.

  We reached Gresh in the late afternoon. During the final descent to the city, I could see it sprawled on both sides of the Banson River. The river gleamed golden from the setting sun, as it flowed through the city, with ships sailing down or tacking up it. Oxen teams pulled heavy-laden barges to the sky blue-roof-tiled warehouses on the docks. Small punts and scows wove through river traffic, mimicking the wide avenues and boulevards of the city, which bustled with the energy of three major trade routes converging. There were the yellow tiles of a theater district instead of the one playhouse Freston had, several market squares, and in the middle rose the silver and crystal church spires set afire by the setting sun.

  We entered the city through the Flowergate, and for once a gate’s name matched its description. It opened into the perfumers’ district and we were bombarded with flower, spice, musk, citrus and herbal scents that arose from the now shutting stalls and closing shops. Last-minute shoppers lingered over trays of fragile petals in the open marketplace and they barely glanced at us coming through before they went back to their bargaining, only to give themselves neck strain when they whipped back around to stare at Laurel.

  Whatever messages had flown from the way station to Gresh, no one seemed to have told the townsfolk about the Faena.

  We reached the garrison as the last rays of the sun winked out over the city’s roofs. I kept expecting Governor Hoelt and Doyen Allwyn to peel off from our column and go to their respective offices, but they stayed and entered the garrison gates with us. We were met by the base commander and in the deepening dusk salutes were exchanged. After a moment, Captain Suiden turned and motioned for me to join them.

  “This is Lieutenant Rabbit, Commander Freser,” Captain Suiden said as I rode up and dismounted. The commander’s eyes lingered on the feather on my cap as I saluted.

  “Lieutenant Rabbit,” Freser said. “What’s this about a murder?”

  I recognized one of the soldiers who had arrived at the way station with Major Verne standing behind the commander. At least one person had braved the hailstorm. I looked at Captain Suiden, but he remained silent, so I took a deep breath. “Ambassador Laurel could better
answer that, sir!”

  “But it was you, wasn’t it, who made the accusation?” Commander Freser asked.

  The yard was full and I watched as triple the number of men necessary lit the lamps, their heads turned towards me. “I wasn’t accusing the doyen, sir. Not really. I just saw a—a body, and it took me by surprise.”

  “And this corpse was in the possession of Doyen Allwyn?”

  “Yes, sir, and Ambassador Laurel is going to talk to King Jusson about that very thing.”

  “I see,” Freser said.

  “As there’s no complaint lodged,” Doyen Allwyn said, “we’ll take our leave.”

  A line formed between the commander’s brows but he couldn’t stop the doyen as I didn’t even hint that he had so much as disturbed the peace. The churchmen gathered themselves and began to turn their horses around to go back out the garrison gates.

  “We will look,” Doyen Allwyn said to Laurel, “into this very distressing incident, Ambassador, and will let you know the results of our investigation.”

  Laurel bowed. “Thank you, honored elder. If you will call on me in the morning, I will have removed the bells by then.”

  Doyen Allwyn’s eyes drifted back to where the staff was. “Uhm, yes. Of course.” The wind picked up with the falling dusk and a gust blew under cloaks. He shivered. “Until tomorrow. Blessings.” Doyen Allwyn waggled his fingers, turned his horse and gave it a solid thump with his heels. In a few moments he and his clerks were out of sight, the echoes of their horses’ hooves fading.

  “Well, that was a brief benediction,” Governor Hoelt said, her own eyes bright in the lamplight. “I too must be going. I’m sure the council will be waiting for my report.” She bowed. “But I will also call on you tomorrow.”

  After the governor’s departure, Commander Freser turned to Captain Suiden and indicated a soldier standing by. “I am sure you want to get settled, Captain. My aide will show you to your quarters.”

  We were taken to an empty barracks that had signs of a hasty evacuation. As we inspected it, the aide turned to the Faena. “The commander has set aside quarters for you, Ambassador Laurel.”

  “No,” Captain Suiden said, overhearing. “By your leave, Ambassador, you should remain with us.”

  Laurel nodded. “Yes, honored captain.”

  Suiden looked around and found me, even though I was doing my best to act invisible. “Thank you,” he said to the aide, “but Lieutenant Rabbit will see to the ambassador’s needs.” There was nothing the aide could do but salute and depart, promising that someone would return to show us to the mess and baths. The captain waited until he was out the door, and then began to pat about his pockets. “Devil take it, I seem to have lost my purse. Perhaps I dropped it at the stables. Trooper Jeffen, please see if you can find it for me.”

  We heard footsteps outside hurrying away.

  “Oh, I’ve found it,” Suiden said, and Jeff started to come back. “But,” Suiden continued, “be so kind as to remain at the door.” Jeff moved to the side of the door and took up position looking out.

  Captain Suiden looked at Laurel. “Where’s the staff?”

  Laurel pointed to a corner where the staff stood propped.

  “I’ll ask you again, how dangerous is it?”

  “It is completely warded, honored captain.”

  “That’s not what I asked.” The captain frowned. “You moved pretty fast to get it away from the doyen. You moved just as fast to wrap it up and make signs over it. And you wouldn’t let them take the bells.” He went over to the corner and stared at it. “So tell me. How dangerous is it?”

  “It will not cause someone to burst into flames or give them the pox, if that’s what you are asking,” Laurel said, joining him. “But it is very dangerous.” He shook his head, sending his beads clacking and feathers fluttering. “Prudence Oak was powerful in the talent—” He caught Suiden’s look. “You call it magic, honored captain.” The Faena gently opened the shrouding cloak and gestured at the openmouthed scream of the sprite. “What do you think she did when she felt the first bite of the axe? Do you think she blessed her fellers? Spoke gently of those who would profit from her murder as she surrounded herself with goodness and light?” The cat shrugged. “If it weren’t warded, I wouldn’t want it anywhere near me.”

  I stared at the death staff, wondering how she had been killed, if she were so powerful. Captain Suiden shot a look at me and, turning back to Laurel, opened his mouth.

  “But if it’s so horrific, why carry it to the Royal City?” Captain Javes asked before Suiden could speak.

  “I can’t leave it here, honored captain.”

  “Take it back to the Border,” Javes said.

  “If I return with honored Prudence’s body now, especially the way it is, we will have war.” Laurel sighed. “Well, it’ll at least make a good argument before the king.”

  Captain Suiden gave me another look, then turned around and faced the rest of the troopers. “You all heard Ambassador Laurel. No one will so much as think about touching it unless directed by and under the ambassador’s supervision.” He looked at Ryson and Slevoic, standing side by side. “If I find you acting outside of my orders, you will curse the day your mother first smiled at your father.”

  We spent the time waiting for the promised guide tidying away our gear. I was more interested in the baths than food (and sleep before either), but was willing to explore what the mess had to offer, so when the commander’s aide returned, I jumped up from the cot ready to journey forth—only to feel a hand on my arm.

  “The captain wants to talk to you, Rabbit,” Groskin said.

  I walked back to where Suiden sat with Javes and Laurel Faena. “You have guard duty, Lieutenant,” Suiden said.

  I don’t know what my face looked like, but Suiden dismissed everyone else, and they went without argument—even Javes.

  “Sit.” Captain Suiden indicated the cot opposite him.

  I sat, keeping my gaze over the captain’s shoulder.

  “Tell me the difference between knowing and conjecture, Lieutenant.”

  Surprised, I answered. “Knowing is being certain, conjecture is guessing. Sir.”

  “Very good. Succinct.” I heard the captain shift on the cot. “Now, Javes can guess where Slevoic sent Ryson yesterday. He can make another guess as to why, especially when Governor Hoelt was so disappointed when she realized that she wasn’t our only caller. But he has no proof and so he is limited in his response.”

  “But Slevoic lied,” I said angrily. “Whatever he sent Ryson for, it wasn’t to alert any kin of his arrival. Sir.”

  “Most likely,” Suiden said, his voice dry. “But don’t think that Slevoic can’t produce scores of people swearing on their fathers’ beards that they are his cousins, that he sent them a message that he was coming to Gresh, and that he’s the best of fellows.”

  I frowned at the opposite wall.

  “You, though, Rabbit, with your shouts and shrieks in front of all and sundry—” The cot shifted again. “Did you understand what was going on in the horse yard with Commander Freser?”

  I forgot my pique enough to drop my eyes to the captain’s. “He was trying to get me to say that Doyen Allwyn was involved in Prudence Oak’s murder.”

  “Very, very good,” Suiden said, his face calm. “Politics, Rabbit. The commander was trying to use you to gain an edge over the church here in Gresh. It was clumsily done and you were able to deflect him, but you made yourself vulnerable in the first place by acting without thinking.” Captain Suiden paused for a moment. “Gresh is a provincial town with delusions of grandeur, no matter how it bills itself as the gateway to civilization. If you’re so easily tripped here, how will you fare when you reach Ivervsly?” He stood up. “Think, Lieutenant, before you leap sticklebutt into something you should have seen coming.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said as I also stood. “It just took me by surprise and all.”

  “I suppose it did, Lieutenant. Remembe
r, though, that no matter what—or who—the staff was in the Border, here it’s just a stick, special only because it has bells.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The next morning Captain Suiden completed the arrangements for us to sail down the Banson and by early afternoon we were loading up on the riverboat. I had spent my own morning pressed into duty as Laurel Faena’s assistant. Through a complicated dance of the magical and mundane—Laurel with wards and me with pliers—we removed the bells from the death staff and set them aside to await Doyen Allwyn’s return, but he didn’t come before we had to leave for the ship. After I boarded, I stood at the railing and watched the docks, keeping my face turned away from our guests. It didn’t work, though, as I was spotted.

  “Ho, Lieutenant Rabbit,” Commander Freser called out, beckoning me.

  Ho? I thought, as I went to join them. I started to salute.

  “None of that, my lord,” the commander said, smiling. “So, what do you think of our fair city?”

  Ho, I thought. Someone told him who I was. “It looks very nice, sir.”

  “It’s a shame—isn’t it, Major Verne—that you won’t have time to do a little sightseeing. Though I suppose Gresh pales in comparison with Iversly.” Freser paused. “I’ve never been myself. What’s it like?”

  “Lieutenant Rabbit has been based in Freston for, what? Five years, my lord?” Captain Javes asked.

  I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m sure Iversly has changed a great deal since then,” he said.

  I gave my own silly ass smile and nodded again at Javes’ nonanswer. Commander Freser’s own smile frayed a little as Major Verne ran a finger along his mustache.

  “Well, city comparisons aside,” said Governor Hoelt, “I’m sure your family’ll be glad to see you again.”

  My smile broadened into a whole herd of asses. “Yes, ma’am.”