Silas
Silas had removed most of the makeup on his face by the time Eryn returned, flanked by Bryant, Robar, Sena, and Winslow. Bryant had a bucket of blue paint in one hand, a brush in the other. He ran out the front door.
"What is he doing?" Eryn asked.
"He'll paint parts of the street blue," Sena said. "Small marks that the soldiers won't notice, but the troupe will. They'll know it's not safe, and go to the temple."
"The temple to Amman?"
"The one outside the walls," Winslow said. "The priest there, Colm, is a friend of ours. He was a member of the troupe, before he chose to follow the path of Amman."
"Get going," Silas said. "The Overlord's soldiers could show any minute."
"What about you?" Sena asked.
"We'll meet up with you at the temple. We have other business to attend to first."
They fled the theater.
He looked Eryn over. She had pulled off the wig, and thrown some water over her own face to clear the makeup and putty. She was wearing a dark tunic with loose black pants and short leather boots. Combined with her short hair, she would be easy to mistake for a boy.
"Take this," he said, throwing her the coin purse. "The blue stone is at the bottom, if you need it."
Eryn caught it, and tucked it into her pants. "I don't know if I can do it," she said. "I tried to use the stone on the rod, but I couldn't concentrate with all of the fighting."
"That's okay. I know you'll do your best. I'd tell you to stay behind, but I don't expect that you'll listen."
"I'm coming. I'd rather die fighting, than live running. I could have gone off to join the rebellion if that was what I wanted."
"Remember what I taught you, and stay close. We're going to go north up the west side of the city to the lake. We'll try to find a way in from the back."
Eryn came over, reached up, and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Silas was stiff at first, but then he joined her in the embrace.
"Thank you for everything, Silas," she said.
"It isn't over yet," he replied, letting her go.
They went to the open door of the theater and looked out. The sun was setting, and the streets were growing dark. Someone would be along soon to light the oil lamps, but for now the area was deserted.
"This way," Silas said, motioning for Eryn to follow. They stayed close to the buildings, walking north to the corner. He saw it now, the small blue mark Bryant had painted on the street. He had only noticed it because he was looking for it.
"I hear horses," Eryn said.
Silas peeked around the corner. He could see torches in the distance; soldiers on horseback, coming down the hill towards them.
"Across the street," he said. "Run!"
They ran across the street. When they reached the other side Silas doubled back to check if they had been seen. The soldiers hadn't changed their pace.
"How far to the lake?" Eryn asked.
"Seven or eight blocks," he replied.
They started running again. They had nearly reached the next corner when they heard footsteps. Silas took Eryn's hand and led her to a tight alley between two of the buildings. He crouched down with her behind him.
Four soldiers came from around the corner, swords at their hips and crossbows in their hands. They looked like they were on edge, expecting to be attacked.
"We have to surprise them," Silas whispered. "It would be like shooting barrels to hit us in this alley."
He pulled the knife from his boot, and held it up, ready to throw.
"When I throw the knife, we charge," he said. "Stay behind me."
The four soldiers approached, their eyes sweeping back and forth along the street. One of them kept his gaze up, expecting that they might be on the rooftops.
He was the first to fall, a knife sticking out of his neck. The road wasn't that wide, and by the time the other soldiers reacted, Silas was right on top of them. They tried to spin to fire, but they got in one another's way, and hesitated for too long. He tore into them with the Mediator's sword, the lustrous alloy cutting through their armor as though it were cloth instead of iron.
They were all dead before Eryn had time to draw her sword.
"Here," Silas said, handing her a crossbow.
"I don't know how to use this," she replied.
"Press this to release the string and fire the bolt," Silas said. "Pull the string back, put it in here, and then put the bolt there. It's easier than a bow, and you can shoot one of those."
He took the quiver from one of the men and handed it to her. She slipped it over her back, and held the crossbow the way the soldiers had.
They ran north another block, and then ducked into an alley. They heard the voices of the soldiers on horseback, reaching those they had killed. Silas peeked out from the alley, seeing two soldiers riding towards the theater with torches in their hands.
"Stay close to the buildings, go slow," Silas said.
They snuck out of the alley and crept along the side of the building, holding as close to it as they could to avoid being seen. They had nearly reached the next block, when a voice cried out from above them.
"Guards! He's down 'ere!"
The soldiers on the horses turned their direction and kicked their mounts forward.
"Run," Silas said.
They ran, away from the oncoming horses.
"We can't outrun them," Eryn cried.
They could hear the horses getting closer. Silas reached out and took Eryn's hand, pulling her towards him. An arrow sailed by and bounced off the street.
"Hey, in here!"
A door opened in front of them.
They headed for it, falling inside just as an arrow struck the wall behind them. The door swung closed.
"Who are you?" Eryn asked. There were three men standing over them, each armed with a crossbow. They were young, not much older than her, each with short brown hair and fair skin.
One of them held out his hand, and helped her up. Silas pushed himself to his feet on his own.
"Rebels," he said. "They'll hang you for this."
"They've done worse to our family," one of them said. "I don't know why the Overlord wants you so bad, but as far as I'm concerned, helping you is the best thing we can do."
"Do you know what's happening?"
They heard the snorting and whining of the horses as the soldiers reached the door.
"Overlord's got most of the city locked up in the palace courtyard. He's got another five hundred or so soldiers going door to door, every single home, looking for you. Then he's got the blokes in the streets. We've been waiting for them to come try to search the place." He motioned to a door behind him. "We've got a weapons store down there, for the rebellion. For when the time came. We couldn't get it moved out, so we figured we'd take a few of his bastards with us."
He motioned for them to stand to the side of the door, and then the rebels took up position next to it.
"Open it," he said.
Silas jerked the door open. The two horsemen were sitting right in front of it, trying to light a torch. Two crossbow bolts knocked them from their horses.
"Name's Atticus," the leader said. He was the oldest and tallest. "These are my brothers, Elrad and Orm. Where are you headed?"
"I need to get to the palace."
Atticus smiled. "You want to go to the palace? You know it's east of here, not north?"
"From the lake," Silas said.
Atticus bobbed his head up and down. "Take the horses. We have a man at the wharf, his name is Deshon. He helps us move stuff in and out. He can put you right up to the cliffs behind the palace without being seen, but you'll have to climb up from there. He says he's done it once, just for fun, but I think he's full of dung. Anyways, just tell him Attie sent you."
"How will I find him?" Silas asked.
"Ah, don't worry," Atticus said with a laugh. "Deshon stands out."
"We'll try to keep them off your back," Orm said, while reloading his crossbow.
"Come on," Silas said. He and Eryn went back out into the street. Silas bent down over one of the soldiers and unbuckled his sword belt, slipping it around his waist and sliding his sword into the scabbard. "Leave the crossbow," he instructed Eryn as they mounted the horses. "It'll draw too much attention."
The brothers followed them out, heading in the other direction. Atticus began shouting.
"Are you tired of the oppression of his rule? Are you sick of giving up your hard earned coin for taxes on everything from bread to clothes? Have your mother, father, brother, or sister been taken to the ore mines, or killed for little more than looking at a soldier the wrong way? Come out into the streets. Do not be afraid. Stand up to him, as we're standing up to him..."
His voice faded into the background as they raced north.
The wharf was the busiest part of the city, and also the biggest. It stretched from the east wall all the way to the city center, where part of the hill the palace rested on had been excavated to allow for more dock space. Ships could sail from the Small Sea down the river to Elling Lake, and find port at the city to unload or load their trade goods, to bring back the other direction. The Small Sea connected to the Great Sea, and while only the adventurous tried to cross the Great Sea to the unknown lands, the cogs could hold the shoreline to the east and then south to many of the Empire's other coastal provinces.
Activity at the wharf didn't seem slowed by the hanging, or the Overlord's pursuit of them. Cargo was being loaded and unloaded from large, three-masted, wooden ships, while smaller boats handled nets of fish or clams. All around them merchants made deals for the offloaded cargo, or bargained to have their trade goods sent to this place or that, while prostitutes tried to entice the sailors and sailors headed into and out of brothels, taverns, and shops. It was busy enough that once they had dismounted and sent the horses on their way, they were able to blend into the crowd, and sneak around the soldiers patrolling the area.
"How do we find Deshon?" Eryn asked.
"Atticus said he stands out," Silas said.
They walked along the wharf, to the east in the direction of the palace, searching for a sign of Deshon with one eye, and watching for soldiers with the other. Whenever a retinue would walk past, they would duck off to the side and put their heads down, and try not to be seen.
"There," Eryn said, pointing.
Silas followed her finger to a sleek looking wooden ship with three tall masts. A metal plaque was affixed to the rear. The Flying Deshon.
"That does stand out," Silas said. They headed over to it, hitting the dock at a fast walk.
"Where do you think you're going?"
The voice came from behind them. They turned around, coming face to face with a muscular, dark-skinned man with short black hair and a beard with colored beads hanging from it. His eyes regarded them cautiously, while his hands toyed with a large dagger.
"What business is it of yours?" Silas asked.
The man smiled. "I know you," he said. "The soldiers are looking for you. There's a nice reward for your capture. Dead, or alive. Or... I could just shout."
"You won't," Silas said.
"No?"
"Attie sent us."
"Did he?" The man walked toward them, still brandishing the knife.
Silas could feel Eryn tensing next to him, so he put his hand out to hold her at bay.
"How did you know it was me?" Deshon asked, once he was close enough to talk quietly.
"The center mast," Silas said. "The flags are the same colors as the beads in your beard."
Deshon laughed. "You are a clever one. No wonder the Overlord is so desperate to get his hands on you. What do you need from me?"
"I need you to bring us to the palace."
"Both of you?" he asked, looking at Eryn. "Your boy can't be more than thirteen. A little young for suicide, eh?"
"Fourteen," Eryn said, "and a girl."
Deshon laughed and shook his head. "If Atticus sent you to me, who am I to judge. Follow me." He turned and started walking back up the dock.
"Where are we going?" Eryn asked.
"We can't take the Flying Deshon right under the palace cliffs, boy," he said. "We need something a little smaller."
They walked down the wharf, to a dock lined with small fishing boats. Deshon approached a skinny, bare-chested man standing in one of the boats, leaning over a net.
"Polson," Deshon said. "I need to borrow your boat, for my friends. Attie sent them."
The man, Polson, scowled. "This isn't a good time, Desh."
Deshon laughed. "This here's Silas Morningstar. You know, the fugitive the Overlord is so eager to disembowel? He needs a lift to the palace, so he can do the Overlord first."
Polson looked them both over, and climbed out of his boat. He put his face right up to Silas', and put his hand on his shoulder.
"Soldiers took my sister to the mines. They said it was because she was stealing, but I know it wasn't. One of the tax collectors took a liking to her, and when she refused he accused her. The Overlord wouldn't even hear her case." His eyes started tearing. "There's a lot of us, we're sick of his rule, and the way the Overlord strong arms us common folk. I don't know if killing him will change anything, or even if it will make it worse, but somebody needs to pay. I hope you do it painful."
Silas looked him in the eye, seeing the pain at its depths.
Murderer.
"I'll do what I can," he said.
Deshon climbed into the boat, Eryn and Silas right behind. He picked up the oars and placed them over the sides, and started rowing with a surprising strength. Polson stood on the dock, watching them go. Behind him, Silas could see soldiers running through the streets, headed south.
He wondered what kind of trouble Atticus was causing.