“I beg your pardon?” Jex blustered, straightening to his full height and facing the captain squarely. He gave the man his haughtiest glower. “Just where do you get off—”
He was cut short by a blow to the mouth from a gauntleted fist. It knocked him sprawling and his head rebounded from the stone wall behind him with a sickening thwack. Enari tried to go to him, but Gaylan caught her around the waist and hauled her back against him. The chainmail of his hauberk was cold, even through her cloak and gown.
“Leave him,” he hissed in her ear, “or you’ll join him, and we both know he wouldn’t want that!”
She struggled, but knew it was futile. All she could do was watch the guards drag Jex roughly to his feet and attempt to shackle his wrists together behind his back. Blood poured from his split lips and lacerated gums, coating his chin and the front of his tunic in scarlet. He spat contemptuously at the captain’s feet even as he fought against the men holding him. The effort only earned him a hard cuff to the side of his head that sent him staggering into the man next to him. The guardsman swore and shoved him away, but too roughly, and the mage hit the slightly open gate face first before he was grabbed by two more men. Enari saw fresh scrapes and a new cut on his cheek when he righted himself.
Jex managed to yank one arm free and in his unthinking fury, called fire to life in a whirling pillar around himself. The steely rasp of swords being drawn cut the night.
“DON’T!” Enari screamed, trying her hardest to escape the granite circle of Gaylan’s arms. She knew he couldn’t hear her, but her mind called to him regardless. These men looked as if they’d have no qualms about killing him should he turn his magic upon them.
Jex’s head whipped toward her and his eyes were wide, startled. His mouth dropped open and the flames stuttered out of existence. He was distracted just long enough for one of the men to use his own staff against him. Swinging it like a club, the man struck Jex high in the back. Bones cracked and he went down.
This time, he stayed that way and Enari felt tears of helpless rage sting her eyes. Jex groaned once, tried to roll onto his side, and then went still.
“Sir,” Gaylan began, but his captain rounded on him with narrowed eyes.
“You’re on thin enough ice as it is, Krighamre, and you’d be wise to carefully consider your next words. I’ll deal with you and the girl later, but for now, remain at your post and speak of this to no one.” He turned back to his winded men and pointed at the downed mage. “Get him out of here.”
Someone slapped Jex’s face until he came around enough to keep his feet once he was hauled upright. They were hustling him off when he braced his legs and stopped walking.
“Wait, wait,” he said hazily as one of the guards started pushing at him, “I get a last request, do I not?” His eyes settled on the captain.
“If you make it quick, I may be inclined to grant it.”
“A kiss from the lass there.” He inclined his head towards Enari.
An affirmative nod from the captain and she ran to Jex, standing on tiptoe even as he bent his head.
“In my pocket,” he breathed against her lips, “Get it away from here.”
Then his mouth was on hers, hot and insistent and tasting of blood.
Using her body to shield the movement of her hands, Enari reached into his tunic and removed the little pouch he carried in an inner pocket, slipping it beneath her cloak without anyone being the wiser. After only a moment, they were jerked apart.
“That’s enough! Take him below.”
* * *
Enari fled as soon as the men were out of sight and Gaylan let her go. Consorts knew the girl was better equipped to find someone who could help than he. As she disappeared, he offered up a whispered prayer to the Goddess and Her consorts for the battlemage’s protection before turning back to face the darkness beyond the gate.
She didn’t make it far before a hand shot out of the shadows and grabbed her arm, jerking her to a stop. Whirling, she found herself confronted by a man she’d never seen before.
He was only a little taller than she and neatly built, with hands and feet petite enough to be almost feminine. Dark hair fell past his shoulders in a myriad of intricate braids and each was bound at the end with ties of woven horse hair. Intelligent black eyes studied her from a narrow and sharp-boned face the deep brown of tanned leather.
The star and shield over his heart identified him as a mage of the Tower and Enari released a breath she hadn’t known she’d been holding. This man was a friend.
His eyes darted down and Enari’s followed. He still held her, and he’d spotted the object clutched in her fist.
“He must trust you very much to give you that,” he told her, his voice low and husky. “We must act quickly if we are to save him. Come.” Halting after only a few steps, he glanced over his shoulder and favored her with a thin smile. “I am Perimos, by the way. Perimos Wind-Strider.”
* * *
He was marched down to a small cell in the bowels of the palace and shoved unceremoniously inside. The heavy door clanged shut behind him and he was alone in the near-dark.
Staggering drunkenly to the stone bench along the wall, he collapsed upon it, hissing out a string of vicious expletives as his ribs and head protested. He lay back and closed his eyes, waiting.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Less than half an hour had passed when the door opened and torchlight lanced through his lowered eyelids. He ignored the intruders, feigning sleep.
“Chain him.”
Several sets of hands grabbed him and jerked him up and over to the wall. One wrist was unshackled and he heard the clinking of chains as it was pulled through a loop above his head. His arms were drawn sharply upwards and the manacle refastened. The angle was awkward and became almost immediately painful. Jex widened his stance for better balance and glared balefully at the retreating guards. He and the captain were promptly left alone to stare at one another.
“I trust you know why you’re here,” the man said at last.
“Sedition, illegal entry into the kingdom of Egalion, and murder, wasn’t it?” Jex replied acidly. He cocked his head. “Have you decided whether you’re adding rape to the list as well?”
“Such impertinence does you no credit,” the captain sneered, “and as to the charge of rape…I haven’t had a chance to speak with her yet.”
“Everything I’ve done with her has been with her most enthusiastic consent, so don’t waste your time.”
“I’d be lax in my duty if I didn’t thoroughly investigate the matter.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time lately.”
As he suspected it would, the remark earned him another blow, this time to the belly. He’d have doubled over if there’d been enough slack in his chains.
“I’ve enough to hang you without it, in any case.” The captain paced leisurely around the small room, hands clasped behind his back. “I’m sure you know how the people feel about Atromorese scum like you living in their midst.”
“What an imagination you have, Captain! Do I look Atromorese to you?” While he spoke with nonchalance, inside he was shaking. How could this man know? What was to become of his mother and sister? Perhaps they didn’t know about his family, but he doubted he would be so lucky.
“Save the lies.” The captain produced a familiar black silk bag. He opened it and withdrew a tarnished Atromorese silver, blackened around the edges, and held it up between two fingers for Jex to see. “You should be more careful with your things, filth.”
Then he stuck a hand into Jex’s tunic and, finding it empty, turned out both his trouser pockets. He swore when he came up empty-handed and the look he leveled on his prisoner was one of pure, unadulterated hatred.
“Where is it?” he snarled.
“Where’s what?” Jex asked innocently. “You know, you aren’t nearly pretty enough to be so handsy without at least buying me a drink first.” He paused and studied the captain for a moment. “On second thought, I don’t think the contents of an entire week’s Allsorts jug would make you pretty enough.”
This time, the captain kicked his legs out from under him, forcing his arms to momentarily bear his full weight. There was a crackling pop as his shoulder dislocated under the strain.
“Tell me where it is!”
“Fuck you,” Jex wheezed, “and your mother.”
“No matter,” he shrugged, “you’re going to confess to the murders in this palace regardless.”
“Or what? You’ll beat it out of me?” Jex taunted breathlessly. He’d already been slated for execution, but he refused to confess to something he hadn’t done.
The man removed his gauntlets slowly. “If that’s what it takes, though I don’t actually need your admission of guilt. I just thought I’d at least give you the chance to freely unburden your soul before sending you to Dusan’s judgment.”
“Before you commence, may I at least know how you came by that bag and its contents?”
“Why does it matter?”
Jex rolled his eyes. “I merely wish to have my curiosity sated before I die.”
“A concerned citizen brought it to one of my men after word got around about the coin on the first body. She said you carried a bag identical to the one she found in your chamber, and that she’d seen an Atromorese coin in it. It doesn’t take a genius to put two-and-two together and reach four.”
“Except in this case, your arithmetic is a bit off,” Jex advised, “I wasn’t even here when the boy was killed, and that coin could have come from almost anywhere. There’s a whole entire kingdom’s worth of them on the other side of the Fengals, you see. So really, for you two-and-two makes three and a quarter. Did you learn your numbers from a cave troll?”
The captain raised his fist, then stopped. A calculating gleam entered his eye and he slowly lowered his hand. “You know, I’ve changed my mind. I think I’ll go and talk to the little fire-crown you came in with, just in case she has anything to add.”
Jex wanted to shout at the man to leave Enari out of this, but knew that if he expressed any outrage or concern, it would put her in that much more danger, so he held his tongue.
The captain reached up and patted his cheek. “I won’t leave you to ponder your demise for too much longer, I promise. Just be a good boy while I’m gone.”
* * *
It was very late, or very early, when the captain returned. Jex forced his eyes open and sighed.
“How did your chat go?” he asked on a yawn. Everything hurt, but he’d be damned if he let the discomfort show.
“The little witch was nowhere to be found and that dragon who rooms with her refused to tell me where she was. In fact, she read me the riot act for not looking for the girl hard enough!” The man was fuming.
Jex began to giggle. “Oh, Goddess bless you, Vasi. Here I thought I was to be your only target tonight.”
“I think your tongue will be the first to go,” the captain ground out, reaching for the knife at his belt. “Not even the Consorts could have the patience to listen to your blather.”
The cell door burst open and the captain whirled, knife still in hand.
“I thought I told you that under no circumstances was I to be interrupted!” he roared. But his rage evaporated when he caught sight of the figure in the doorway. Babbling an apology, he fell to his knees and bowed his head.
Standing in the entrance of the dingy little cell, dressed in nothing but a cloak covered nightdress, was Tora Aelani.
Her hair fell in unbound waves around her and Jex could tell from the swollen, puffy state of her eyes and the blotches on her skin that she’d been crying. Yet despite her grief, her head was high and she gazed at the scene before her in mounting displeasure.
“Explain yourself,” she ordered coolly, eyes settling at last on the captain.
The man remained on his knees. “M-Your Majesty. This prisoner is being interrogated for the murder of your husband, and the others before him.”
“Your interrogation is over. Release him.” Aelani’s voice was hard as steel and the look on her face said that she was in no mood to be challenged. The captain blinked up at her, swallowing hard before climbing to his feet and returning his dagger to its sheath.
“I have proof of his guilt, and—”
“I’ve already spoken with the maid who gave testimony against him and she’s recanted her tale.”
“No.” The man shook his head violently before thrusting his hand forward to display the coins and twists of hair. “He had the second one on his person before he was arrested! He’s an Atromorese outlander, here illegally! Min Ha probably sent him to spy on us and I refuse to give him the opportunity to report back to his master! He’s already done enough damage!”
“He is indeed Atromorese.” At her words, Aelani saw the fight go out of Jex’s eyes and he bowed his head. It made her heart ache even more.
“Oh, Eryk,” she thought mournfully, “you keep so many secrets. Whatever became of that open, carefree little boy who kissed us goodbye as he left for the Tower?”
“Reginold,” Aelani sighed. She strode forward and put a hand on her captain’s shoulder, “Despite his place of birth, this man is not here illegally. If you wish, I can provide you with papers to show his immigration was approved by both Brinon and myself many years ago.” She wasn’t sure who looked more surprised by the news.
“They’re Atromorese,” he protested weakly, “You of all people should know the significance of that, my tora. He murdered Brinon…”
“He wasn’t even here!” she barked.
The captain flinched and looked away.
Aelani’s tone became gentler and she took his hand. “I know why you feel the way you do, but that is in the past and everyone knows you protected my uncle the best you could. Battlemage Xander had nothing to do with Iradi’s treachery, nor has he anything to do with Brinon’s death. You’ve let your hatred color your judgment, my friend.” She stroked his bearded cheek. “I’m asking you, Reg, to let him go. Please don’t make me order you a second time.”
“I—as you wish.” Shoulders slumping wearily, he held out the key to Jex’s manacles.
“Thank you.”
Aelani approached the bound mage and stretched to unlock the thick cuff around one wrist, catching his arm and gently guiding it down to his side. They both winced when it snapped back into the socket. He tugged until his other arm was low enough and she unlocked that fetter as well.
“My thanks, Ma’am,” he whispered, eyes downcast, “and my deepest condolences for your loss.”
Tears welled in her eyes as she looked him over, noting every cut and bruise marring his exposed flesh. “Thank you, Jex. Brinon is—he was a good man and he never would have condoned this.”
Before he could respond, Enari was at his side and Aelani stepped back. She watched the young novice put her arms gingerly around the battered mage and press her face into his chest, heedless of the dirt and bloodstains. He hugged her back, eyes closing on a quiet sigh. Anyone looking at them in that moment would be blind not to see the depth of affection there and she prayed that Vasi never saw them this way. Jex had courted death twice already and she didn’t want to bet on his odds of surviving it a third time in such a short period.
He looked up and found her watching them with a small, sad smile gracing her lips.
“Your associate, Adept Wind-Strider, brought her to me,” Aelani explained, “He told me what you’d been accused of and what my men had done. I came as quickly as I could, though I’m sorry for not intervening sooner.”
He shrugged, grimacing as a twinge shot through his back and shoulder. “I’m grateful you saw fit to intervene at all. Thank you.”
“No need for that, but it grows late and I am so, so tired. I will tell you everything you wish to know on the morrow.” Aelani rubbed at her temples. “For now, off to bed, the both of you.”
Without waiting for a response, the tora turned on her heel and left the cell.
* * *
The screaming didn’t start until they turned the corner and entered the corridor outside Enari’s room.
Vasi descended on them like a Fury, eyes blazing. Eryk was not far behind, though he looked more worried than angry. Jex felt his shoulders slump and his headache grew infinitely worse.
They’d almost made it. Damn. One more corridor and they would have reached his rooms without the kvinna being any the wiser.
Enari started upon hearing her Sura’s raised voice and only then did Jex notice her attire. The borrowed cape fell open to reveal her torn and soiled clothing, and Vasi looked at him with murder in her eyes.
“That’s it!” she shouted at him, “I’ve had enough of you and your—your antics, Battlemage Xander. I—”
“Please,” Jex interrupted, “please can we not do this in the hall?”
“Come inside, Vasi.” Eryk took her hand. “It’s been a long night and no one else needs to hear this. The two of them clearly need a healer’s attention.”
She fumed at him. “I’ll care for my apprentice, but not him. I refuse, Eryk, do you understand me? He isn’t getting the benefit of my care a third time!”
“Fine,” Jex snapped, finally reaching the ends of his tattered patience. “I’ll get Lady Krighamre to stitch me up if I must. She plies a needle well enough. But can we go inside before someone comes out to see what the commotion is?” He jerked his chin at Enari. “Or before she passes out?”
All three of them looked at her. She stood with her shoulders hunched, huddled down inside the appropriated cloak, and swaying a little. Vasi put an arm protectively around her apprentice and the two men followed them into the sitting room.
Once inside, the women disappeared into the novice’s room and the door was shut very soundly behind them. Jex sat at the breakfast table and put his head down while Eryk went to the window. Neither spoke.
A half hour later, they returned. Enari’s hair was wet and her skin was pink from scrubbing. Vasi had the torn gown and chemise bundled under one arm and a bag in her hand. She crossed to the fire and threw the ruined clothing into the flames, making sure they caught before advancing on Jex.
She let the bag drop onto the table in front of him, jarring him awake, and addressed her apprentice.
“I think you need to take some responsibility for this little adventure. You’re a grown woman, old enough to, I would have hoped, know better than to leave the palace without telling someone.” She began removing objects from the pouch; a thick piece of muslin with needles of various shapes and sizes stuck through it, a spool of thin silk thread, a pair of tiny shears, a glass bottle filled with antiseptic wash, and a smaller, opaque vial.
Enari’s face went pale.
“You’re going to make her stitch up my arm?” Jex demanded incredulously.
“And the cuts on your forehead and cheek as well, though I think your bruises and that lovely black eye will heal well enough on their own,” Vasi said matter-of-factly, “I’m sorry to inform you I have nothing with which to dull the pain, Battlemage Xander. You used it all on our journey here.”
After Vasi retreated into her own room, Eryk came forward and offered Jex a flask. He smiled apologetically. “Best I can do, I’m afraid.”
Jex took it, unscrewed the cap, and downed the contents in a long swallow before handing it back with a little cough. He laid his forearm on the table and nodded to Enari.
“Go ahead.”
There was no way she could do this. She simply couldn’t. He was a living, breathing person who would bleed and feel pain when pierced by the needle, by her needle. The cloth dummies she’d stitched on in practice hadn’t truly prepared her for the real thing.
“How can I inflict pain on someone I love?” She shook her head, feeling her stomach roll, and her breathing grew fast and harsh.
Jex grasped her fingers as she stood and looked up at her, trusting and confident. “It’s alright. Do it.”
“Jex, I can’t. I’ll hurt you.”
“You didn’t flinch in the alley,” he reminded her, “Don’t start now. This is what your Sura trained you for, and if I’m to be your first in this as well, so be it.”
Eryk put two basins down on the table; one empty, one full of steaming water, and retreated to the window again. Enari took a deep breath to steady her nerves and sat. Trying not to cry, she carefully cleaned the wound on Jex’s arm before threading one of the smallest needles.
The liquor, Jex discovered, barely took the edge off, but he ground his teeth and forced himself to remain still and silent. He watched as she worked, completely focused on each precise, tiny suture.
After forty, he stopped counting and turned his gaze to the ceiling.
“I’m sorry. I know it hurts.”
“Don’t mind me, I’ve had stitches before and I’m sure I’ll have them again,”
Once she finished with his arm, she had him lean back in the chair and tip his head so she could better treat the lesser wounds. The position left her standing between his splayed legs and if circumstances had been different, she would’ve found it rather nice. Jex bumped her knee with his in understanding and smiled wearily.
She began dabbing at the laceration above his eye and the scrapes on his face. The strokes of the cloth were slow and the warm water alternated with the cool herbal wash soothed him. Eyes closed to keep the stinging liquid from dripping into them, he began to drift off under her touch.
Until the first prick of the needle.
Then he was wide awake and unable to stop a flinch. She jerked back and almost dropped the small sliver of metal. Her expression was apologetic and she chewed nervously on her bottom lip.
“Sorry,” he shook his head tiredly, “you startled me, that’s all. Go on.”
She closed the gashes quickly, then moved back so he could look in the mirror. He whistled in appreciation; the sutures were incredibly tiny and he guessed the cuts would leave only a very thin scar, rather than the ragged lines he was anticipating.
“Very nice.”
She bowed her head in acknowledgement, then turned away and began cleaning up the detritus of her work. After a moment, she stopped and turned back to him, laying one hand on his shoulder.
“Your ribs?”
“Later. She’s giving me The Eye over your shoulder.”
“Leave it, Enari. I’ll take care of that,” Vasi said from the doorway of her room, “Go on to bed.”
Her apprentice obeyed with a bow and disappeared behind her closed door.