Chapter 22

Yassi’s family had given up their nomadic, goat-herding ways long ago, but they’d maintained their ancestral camp along the coastline at the edge of Sanvara City. The water there was too shallow for deep-hulled vessels, but those who lived in the camp plied their trade as fishermen by sailing small skiffs out into the little cove they’d claimed as their own.

Most of Yassi’s relatives preferred to live and work in the city itself, taking advantage of the more metropolitan lifestyle, but any member of the extended family was welcome home at any time.

It wasn’t safe for Yassi to stay at the camp—the location was too obvious—but she’d been a regular visitor since arriving in Sanvar.

This time, though, she hadn’t come for a social visit. Her aunt was waiting impatiently outside one of the huts.

“I sent the messenger four hours ago,” Saira said. “What took so long?”

“I couldn’t find any carriages at this time of day, and Merice wanted to come with me,” Yassi told her. She’d left the former queen playing on the beach with the younger children.

“Well, the Seeker is here—she’s been waiting this whole time. She might work out as a bodyguard, too.” Saira led Yassi into the hut. There they found a woman of around thirty years of age, dressed in men’s clothing in a modern Zidari style. A scimitar hung from her sword belt.

The woman scowled. “I was starting to wonder if you’d changed your mind, Your Majesty.”

“I’m sorry,” Yassi said. “But please, call me Mera, at least outside this camp. I’m trying not to attract any attention.”

“So your aunt said. My name’s Narini. What is it you’re looking to Seek?”

“My husband has become concerned that there may be a threat against our child’s life,” Yassi said, patting her belly. She was visibly pregnant now. “He sent me away for our safety, but I’d like to make sure I wasn’t followed.” The demonic compulsion didn’t prevent her from lying, and she’d managed to come up with a half-truth that didn’t trigger a compelled response. She hadn’t convinced everyone, though—her grandparents seemed to think Rusol had sent her away in some sort of disgrace. Yassi wasn’t sure whether Saira believed her or was just humoring her.

“Followed by who?” Narini asked.

“That’s what I need your help with,” Yassi said. “If I knew who they were, I could See them.” After arriving in the city, she’d kept up a constant stream of viewings on her surroundings, but she’d found it impossible to locate a ship sailing on the ocean when she didn’t know which ship it was, nor who was on it.

Narini grunted. “Seeking’s not much different than Seeing in that regard. I’d need more details. Where I can help is in looking for imminent threats. I can Seek out someone who’s nearby and planning to cause you harm, but it takes a lot of effort to keep that up for long periods of time. It’s better to stay in a safe location and only venture out if you have to.”

“I have a house in the orange grove district,” Yassi said. “I don’t plan on traveling anytime soon.” It was Merice who’d paid for the property, spending a fraction of what she’d gotten for selling off her extravagant jewelry. Yassi had to be more careful with her own coin.

“That’ll work, if you can secure the entrances. How many guards do you have?”

“Just one.” Lucanus had stuck around after Yassi announced she was staying in Sanvar. The other man she’d hired had left after learning the voyage to Nobitar was a lie. He’d been more interested in a paid ride east than in a long-term job.

Narini raised an eyebrow. “One guard? You’re a queen, aren’t you?”

“That doesn’t mean the same thing in Larso as it does elsewhere. It’s more of an honorary title—I’m just the king’s consort.”

The woman gave Yassi a suspicious look but let the matter pass. “You’ll need at least one more guard, even if you hire me. How long is the contract?”

“At least until the child is born,” Yassi said. “After that, I’m not sure.” With two guards and a Seeker, plus her half of the servants’ wages, she would be running out of money by then. She’d have to find some way to support herself.

“I’ll need to see the place where you’re staying,” Narini said. “I won’t agree to a contract until I know what’s involved.”

Yassi figured she should ask some questions of her own. “Have you done this sort of work before?”

“I spent the last five years working as a bodyguard in x’Chxlthliss,” Narini said. She managed the name of the desertfolk city with ease.

“You lived with lizardfolk for five years?”

“I wasn’t interested in working for the Imperial Seeker corps,” Narini said. “The lizards made the next best offer.”

Yassi nodded. “Can you come to the house tomorrow? If you take Parade Street to the orange grove district and go west—”

Narini interrupted her. “I’ll find you.”

Yassi nodded. “Tomorrow, then.”

After Narini left, Yassi turned to her aunt. “I should get going as well.”

“You can’t stay for supper?” Saira asked.

“Lucanus is waiting for us, and I told the cook we’d be eating at home. You’re still coming out tomorrow night, though, right?”

“Yes. Mother’s complaining that you’re making her try northerner food, but she wants to see where you’re living.”

Yassi grinned and said goodbye to her aunt, then went in search of Merice. She found her near the water, kneeling in the sand with Azad, one of Yassi’s young cousins.

“Yassi! Want to make sand monsters with us?” the boy asked. He’d piled wet sand in a long line and was teaching Merice how to shape it into a sea serpent.

Yassi smiled at him. “Maybe some other time. If I got down there, I don’t think I could get back up again. Merice, are you ready to go?”

“Oh, I suppose I should,” Merice said. “Help me up?”

Yassi gave her a hand.

The voyage south had been difficult. Merice had mourned her son all over again as her memories continued to return, but she’d finally begun to take some small joy in life once more. She was happiest around children, and seemed intent on playing grandmother to Yassi’s child once it was born, regardless of their actual relationship.

Before the two of them left the camp, Yassi closed her eyes and did a viewing on the surrounding area. She didn’t See anyone suspicious, just the normal mix of residents and workers who inhabited this corner of the city. Lucanus was the only northerner she could find. She’d had him wait outside the camp as usual—her family knew her real name, and she wasn’t ready to tell the bodyguard the truth.

When Lucanus saw them walking his way, he gave a sharp whistle, waving to a disreputable-looking man who was watering his horse at a trough. The man looked up, then scurried back to a light, two-wheeled carriage, which he pulled over to re-attach to the horse’s harness.

“Found us a ride,” Lucanus said. “I’ll hold onto the back.” The carriage only had one spot for the driver and two seats under the canopy for passengers, but beggar children often caught rides through the city by dodging the tall wheels and finding a foothold on the rear of the vehicle.

Even with the carriage, it took half an hour to reach the orange grove district. Not that there were many orange trees there—they’d been torn down over a century earlier to make room for the neat rows of homes that had taken their place.

The house Yassi shared with Merice was no mansion, but it was comfortably large for the two of them and their few servants. The grounds were small, just a dozen raised flower beds and a tidy lawn of local grasses. A gardener came by once a week to take care of it all. Like the other homes on the street, the property was surrounded by wrought-iron fencing.

The neighborhood was new enough that it reflected influences from northern building styles. Merice had been more comfortable with that than with the local styles they’d looked at first.

After they’d arrived at their destination, Lucanus paid off the driver and sent him on his way.

Merice rubbed the back of her neck. “I think I’ll take a nap before supper,” she said. “This sun is really too much in the afternoon.”

“We’ll go out earlier next time,” Yassi promised.

“If you two are staying here, I’m going to go try to find someone who can reinforce the shutters,” Lucanus said. While the house was generally northern in style, it followed the local custom of using lightweight screens or shutters for the windows, rather than panes of glass. The bodyguard hadn’t been happy with how easy it would be for an intruder to remove the shutters from the outside.

With Merice and Lucanus otherwise occupied, Yassi retreated to her bedroom and sat down with her scrying orb. Every day, she spent an hour or more searching for whoever Rusol had sent after her. She wasn’t sure who it would be, but she knew he’d send someone.

Today, she started her search with Magnus, then added Kolvi and Sir Barat for good measure. Magnus and Kolvi were blocked from her vision, likely still behind the new scrying wards in the palace. Barat was in a war camp, in the same location he’d been for the past week. His mercenary forces, their numbers growing by the day, had laid out their tents in neat rows near a fortress town guarded by Larsonian soldiers and knights. Based on the appearance, it had to be Fort Hightower. What was Rusol up to?

In any case, Barat was nowhere near Sanvar, so Yassi turned her attention to the docks. She checked each ship she didn’t recognize from previous days, particularly those with northern crews. She didn’t find anyone familiar, but that didn’t mean anything—passengers were unlikely to remain aboard ship after arriving at their destination.

Her next viewing was of the Larsonian embassy, and there, her heart started thumping in her chest.

Her parent were outside, directing a group of porters in moving their belongings into the building. The embassy had been the family’s home once, back when Yassi’s father had served as the ambassador, but that was unlikely to be the reason why they’d come all this way.

Yassi had been blocked from Seeing her parents for weeks, and she’d assumed Rusol had moved them into the palace, inside the warding spell. Instead, he must have had Odwins cast the spell directly on them so they could move in secret.

She’d worried for months about who her husband would send after her. Would it be one of his other bondmates? A group of soldiers? Or would he launch some sort of political ploy?

Instead, he’d sent the two people she absolutely couldn’t avoid.

Nedley batted his opponent’s wooden practice sword out of the way with his shield, using the motion to put himself into position to launch a backswing that caught the man on his unprotected side.

“Point to Nedley!” Georg announced. “That’s ten-three. Enzo, you’re taking too long to get your shield in position.”

Enzo was panting. “He’s too damned fast!” the former mercenary said.

“We still have some of the small shields left if you want one,” Nedley told him. Enzo was using his heavy wooden heater shield rather than one of the round silversteel shields from Tir Yadar.

“They’re too small to cover anything!”

“They seem to do the job well enough against a single opponent,” Kevik said. The knight had been helping Georg evaluate the soldiers’ skills on different weapons. “Though I wouldn’t want to face a company of archers with one.”

“All right, we’re done for the day!” Georg said. “You’re back here tomorrow, crossbows, and then you rotate to watch duty the day after.” He paused for a moment. “Well? Go on, already!”

Nedley’s squad mates grabbed their gear and headed off in different directions. While duties were all organized by squad, not everyone in this group would remain in Nedley’s squad. After Sarette chose a third squad leader, she would be reforming the groups so they could start focusing on different areas. Ral had already been selected to command the siege weapons, but no one had told Nedley what his own area of responsibility would be.

He’d made it almost as far as the gatehouse when Kevik caught up with him.

“You’re not bad there with a blade,” the man said. “Your hammer work needs more practice, though.”

“Yes, sir,” Nedley said, suddenly nervous. Boktar had only shown him the basics of using a warhammer, but it was the knights’ preferred weapon for dealing with an opponent in plate armor. Nedley hadn’t thought he’d done any worse than the rest of his squad.

“Has Corec taught you how to use a lance yet?” Kevik asked.

“No.”

“We’ll have to do something about that. Come see me tomorrow and we’ll try it out. I’ve already cleared it with Georg.”

“I don’t have a warhorse,” Nedley said. Horses bred and trained to charge into battle were rare—and expensive.

“I’ll talk to Corec about getting some good horses. We’ll need them if we’re ever going to build up a cavalry unit. For now, you can borrow Dusty, but we’ll have to go south of town to practice. There’s not enough room here, of course.” Kevik gave him a nod of farewell, then headed off in the direction of the keep.

Cavalry? Was that why the knight had sought him out? Nedley hadn’t had any cavalry training whatsoever, and it didn’t explain the warhammer comment. Warhammers could be used from horseback, but they weren’t common among cavalry. They were more effective as a secondary weapon for infantry.

Nedley wasn’t sure he liked the idea of fighting from horseback. Wouldn’t Corec or Sarette have mentioned something before now if they wanted him to become cavalry? It took entirely different skills than what they’d been teaching him.

He’d have to ask, he supposed. Sarette would be the best person to talk to. Corec was too good at convincing people to do things.