8
IAHIR WAS USED to moving through the city easily, with carriages and horses and down open streets. He realized now how much of these things were only accessible to him through the work of others.
In the wake of the attack, the servants were scattered, some fighting the invading orcs themselves, some simply hiding, some having run off from the palace entirely.
He was obliged, then, to saddle a horse himself, something he had not done since he was a young adolescent, when he’d had a riding tutor who insisted he must know how to do it himself, that a day would come when he would be reliant on his own ability to travel.
Here it was, he supposed.
They rode one horse together, though having Gathren in front of him was a bit cumbersome, for she was nearly as tall as he was, and he had to look around her.
He should have insisted that she ride behind him, he supposed, but he’d only ever seen men and women ride one horse together this way, with the woman in the front.
At any rate, they stuck to the back streets, taking a circuitous way around, but one that avoided most of the fighting. The orc army was coming straight through the main street of town, bold as you please.
When they arrived at Marthlis’s house in town, it was locked up tight, though the lights were on inside. They banged at the door for some time, and there was no response from within.
“The servants may have scattered here, too,” Gathren offered. “Or perhaps they’ve congregated in the lower level, near the kitchens, where their dining room is located. We could try their entrance.”
“Yes, quite, of course!” he said. Why hadn’t he thought of the servants’ entrance?
They took the horse with them, tied it up outside, and went in, because the door back here was wide open, light spilling out from within.
There weren’t any servants inside, however.
The whole place was empty.
They took the servants’ steps up to the main level, and there they were greeted by Marthlis himself who had a rifle that he put in their faces.
“You,” Marthlis snarled at her. “Before all the servants fled, I sent one to get word to the High Chieftain. I wanted him to know we had his daughter. The servant returned with the response, but he’s long gone now. Do you want to know what the response was?”
Iahir turned to look at her, and his body was starting to grow cold.
“‘What daughter?’” said Marthlis.
Gathren flinched.
Iahir felt it all sink to the bottom of his stomach. “You lied about all of it?”
“Well, no,” she said. “I am the High Chieftain’s bastard daughter. I even met him once. I doubt he much remembers me, though. He certainly had no memory of my mother when she wanted to ask him favors.”
Marthlis put a hand to his mouth. “You pernicious and scheming orc! Your kind, you are all slimy and treacherous.”
“So, you were never any use as a hostage,” said Iahir softly, shaking his head. “And you had no idea when the invasion would come.”
“I am going to slit your lying throat,” said Marthlis, his nostrils flaring.
“Oh, what?” said Iahir, alarmed.
“Did you bed her?” said Marthlis, giving Iahir a bland smile. “I shouldn’t have expected anything different from you, I suppose. But you can’t think to defend her just because you feel softly towards her. No matter how much you have enjoyed fucking her, she has betrayed us all.”
Of course he had not fucked her. The opportunity had seemed to grow further and further away the longer she had stayed, and he wasn’t sure why that was.
It was one thing to fuck a woman who he barely knew.
It was another to fuck one he had begun to consider a friend.
And that, he supposed, was why he didn’t want Marthlis to kill her.
Iahir pulled on her, sliding his body between her and Marthlis, peering down at her. “What did you think would happen when we found out?”
She let out a helpless laugh. “I suppose I didn’t think about that. I might not always think things through very well, I’m afraid.”
He actually understood that. He wasn’t exactly well known for his ability to think before he acted either. “Why, though?” he said, shaking his head at her. “Why? Because you wanted us all dead?”
“No,” she said.
“She’d say anything right now,” said Marthlis. “She wants to save her miserable neck.”
Iahir turned to look at Marthlis. “She could be useful. We are at war with the orcs, after all, and maybe she knows things that will help us to defend ourselves. We should keep her alive.”
“You wish to fuck her again, that’s all!”
“I am not fucking her,” said Iahir. “I only…” He turned back to Gathren, his expression stony. “We’ll tie her up. We’ll tie her to something. And in the morning, we’ll deliver her to the general of whatever army is defending the city.”
“Don’t you know who that is?” said Marthlis. “As a member of the kingsguard?”
“Why would I know?”
“There is no army defending this city, is there?” said Marthlis. “In order to summon one, the king would have needed to issue a formal proclamation, and I suppose he can’t do that, can he?” He gestured to Iahir’s face.
Iahir touched his chin and it came away red. He hadn’t been aware he had Findas’s blood on him. It made him feel frantic for a bath, as if his skin was tainted in some way. He drew in a shaky breath, staring down at his reddened fingertips.
“You did it?” said Marthlis.
“I said I was going to do it,” said Iahir.
“Well, so they will have to send for the king’s heir in Cairnil, and he will decline to come because of the fighting and set up his own court there,” said Marthlis. “We talked of this, do you remember?”
“We did a lot of talking,” said Iahir tightly.
“We have time,” said Marthlis. “The orc invasion may yet work to our advantage.” He nodded at Gathren.
“Tie her up, fine. But we will interrogate her in the morning, once I’ve gathered as many of the revolutionaries as I can find.
” He grimaced. “Without servants.” He shook his head.
“Does that mean I have to go after them myself?” He began to walk down the hallway away from them.
Iahir watched him go.
Gathren suddenly took off running.
Well, of course she did.
By the golden-fingered dawn, he was tired and did not wish to run after her. Maybe he didn’t have to. He watched as she sprinted down the hallway.
“Are you letting her get away, Iahir?” thundered Marthlis.
Fuck everything. Iahir went after her.
She had a head start, but he knew the house better. She ran all the way down the hallway, probably thinking she’d find another stairway, but the stairs they’d come up were the only one on this floor, so she was soon trapped in a dead end.
As he approached, she turned and drew her sword.
He did not draw his sword. He held up both of his hands. “Look, just give me a minute here, would you?”
Her sword wavered.
He glanced back over his shoulder, making sure that Marthlis had gone down the stairs, which he had. He moved closer, lowering his voice. “Let me make a show of it, of tying you up, and then he’s going to go looking for people. You heard him. He’ll leave the house. When he does, I’ll let you go.”
“We both know that if we fight, here and now, I will trounce you, because I have done it time and time again in the sparring field. Then, I will escape and you wont need to let me go.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, yes, I suppose, but it’s been quite a night, has it not? I’m rather exhausted, physically and mentally. Do you want to fight?”
“I don’t want to be tied up,” she said. “How long am I going to be tied up?”
“Not long,” he said, gesturing with both hands.
“Why would you let me go?” she said. “You’re trying to trick me—”
“I would never,” he protested. “I like you, warrioress.”
She glared at him.
“Not just in that way,” he said. He lifted a shoulder.
“I don’t know. This is all a mess, and it’s your fault, I suppose, but also it isn’t, because if you hadn’t come, the attack would have come when it did, but we wouldn’t have been motivated to kill Findas when we did.
Of course, I don’t know if I even care about that. ” He sighed.
“You don’t care about anyone or anything, do you?” she said. “Why do you do the things you do?”
“Sure, I care,” he said. “I care about you, and I have just said it. Don’t you trust me?”
“Not a bit,” she said, but she lowered her sword. “But I believe you for some reason.”
He smiled. “Good. Now, just come with me, and I promise not to tie you up very tight, and the minute I can, I will let you go.”
GATHREN WAS SET free onto the streets in the very early morning, just as the sun was rising. The city was still, except—in the distance—there were the sounds of cannon fire and screaming, a sign that the battle raged on.
Gathren supposed she should go back to the orc army and tell them that she’d gotten the High King killed.
She was not entirely sure how that would go over, though.
She had deserted the army, left without permission.
She had no proof that she’d had anything to do with Findas’s death.
I should have taken something from his room or his body, she chided herself.
But she had not thought of such a thing, not then.
Orc punishments could be rather harsh. Deserters were sometimes executed. She likely wouldn’t be, on account of her being a woman. However, she might be kept in a prison for days or—more likely—sent right into the thickest part of the fighting.
If she survived that, all would be forgiven.
Of course, she could also die.
Well, perhaps she had no other choice.
She began walking towards the sounds of the cannons, cutting through empty streets and gazing up at the buildings that peered down, solemn and gleaming in the morning sunlight. It was a beautiful city, after all, but it seemed entirely silent save for the fighting.