Two innocent sylph faces regarded him in return. "We thought the mighty Neptarik has no need for clothes," said Tektu. "So we left them in the saddlebag."
"Breeches and shirt," commanded Neptarik. "Now."
***
The next morning, as they gathered outside the farmhouse to leave, Balnus put a hand on Mya's shoulder. "Anything?" he asked, in a low voice.
Mya, who had worked as close to Yaan as she could get, shook her head. "Nothing at all," she replied.
"Still mistrustful?" asked Verdin, quietly.
"It's my sylph being sent into that city," replied Balnus. "Until he returns safely, I will not trust them."
Yaan stepped outside and carefully looked them over. "Are you sure you know the way?" he asked Serifa.
"Of course," she replied. "It's not all that many weeks since I was last here."
Yaan smiled and nodded. "Of course." He turned to Balnus. "One is missing. Where is Tektu?"
"Sulking," replied Balnus, referring to yesterday's supposed scolding. "She'll be watching us from somewhere near and will no doubt rejoin us when she's ready."
From beside Serifa, Erard grunted. "You should get yourself a tamer for that one, Balnus," he growled. "Far too willful."
Everybody who knew Erard stared at him as he uttered this long speech.
Yaan hugged Serifa and stood back as she mounted. "May Siranva shelter you," he said. "Watch out for patrols." He turned to Reshiad and inclined his head. "Soon, Majesty."
Reshiad inclined his head in return. "I'm still just Deshad," he replied.
"Not for long." Yaan smiled.
"All right," called Verdin, "let's get moving."
Neptarik and Mya ran ahead of the small group. Balnus kept glancing back until they entered a small wood, which eclipsed the farmhouse from view.
Thanks to the trees, he never saw the pigeon rise into the sky above the farm and set its course for home, somewhere in Turivkan.
"The land is very flat," said Verdin, making conversation.
Balnus watched and shook his head ruefully as Verdin moved his horse closer to Serifa.
"Very rich soil," replied Serifa. She gestured towards the crops. "We sometimes get two crops a year from this. More than enough to feed the city and countryside. Turivkan used to export spare grain, when there were still markets."
"Lots of cattle and sheep," remarked Verdin.
"Lots of stone boundary walls and trees lining these tracks for enemies to hide behind," interrupted Balnus.
"You are looking on the dark side this morning," laughed Verdin.
"My ambition is to die at a great age in bed," said Balnus.
Serifa twisted around on her horse. "Your sylphs will give warning," she said.
"If they were scouting, yes." Balnus looked ahead to where Neptarik and Mya walked together, speaking quietly to each other. "They seem to have other things on their mind."
"And Tektu?" asked Serifa.
"Probably still sulking," replied Balnus.
Serifa laughed. "You mean she's gone ahead into Turivkan," she replied.
"A lady's intuition is not always correct," said Balnus.
Reshiad twisted around on his horse. "Do you distrust everybody?" he asked.
"Only those I don't know," replied Balnus. "Misplaced trust has killed many a good man before now."
Serifa gestured at the land. "These people have been losing loved ones. They will not betray us."
"People will do what they believe is in their best interests," retorted Balnus. "This has always been the way of the world. And not everybody has lost loved ones. Only those unfortunate enough to have sons of a certain age and with certain hair and eye colors."
"Well," said Serifa, "I hope you're wrong."
Balnus smiled. "So do I. If that's any consolation."
They passed through a coppice, where each tree had several thin trunks, then their destination stood before them.
"Red Ivy Tower," said Serifa.
"Should be Green Ivy Tower," remarked Neptarik, staring at the ivy covering most of the structure.
Serifa gave the scout a tolerant smile. "You should see this one in the fall," she replied. "It looks so beautiful."
"Is it safe?" Neptarik eyed the tower cautiously.
"It's been unused for about ten years," replied Serifa. "But we refloored it only last winter. Stabling below and living quarters for the rest of us above. And a good supply of food."
"Why don't the Turivkan authorities still use it?" asked Verdin, before Balnus could open his mouth.
"The watch towers were built because of raiders, but that all ended some years ago. The only good thing this Prefect has done for us; he at least restored order."
"But at what cost?" murmured Balnus.
"None of the towers on the plain are manned today," continued Serifa. "But recently, those in the mountain passes have been garrisoned again. No idea why."
"From when the shadow riders passed through," Verdin murmured to Balnus. He raised his voice. "Perhaps there are fresh raiders."
"We've not heard of any," said Serifa. "Anyway, come on inside. We'll have to look after our own horses and cook our own meals."
Neptarik caught Balnus's eye. "Should I go now?"
Balnus shook his head. "In the morning," he replied.
"Tektu hasn't made an appearance," said Serifa, with a shrug. Her hazel eyes held a knowing look.
Balnus shrugged right back. "One thing she's good at is sulking," he replied. "She can drag it out for days and days. She'll reappear when she's ready."
"I'm sure." Serifa gave him a disbelieving look. "Anyway, let's get inside."
Erard dismounted and, together with one of the peasants, pulled the ivy aside to reveal a dark hole. One by one, they led their horses within. Serifa rummaged in one of her saddlebags and pulled out some light crystals, which she set into sconces around the walls.
Balnus nodded in approval. Several stone-walled rooms led off and each had been lined with wood to form stalls. In minutes, they had stabled their animals and two of the peasants were detailed off to check hooves and give the animals a rub down. Neptarik and Mya were told to clean the tack.
Balnus pointed to one of the empty stalls. "You two can settle down in there," he said. "Plenty of straw to help keep you warm."
Mya frowned, but Neptarik nodded in understanding. His owner wanted the sylphs down here to sound warning if there were any visitors.
"We go up here," said Serifa, indicating a stone stair, tucked discreetly to one side. She turned to those working on the horses. "When you're done here, join us upstairs."
The men nodded in acknowledgment.
Verdin and Balnus followed Erard up the spiral stair, hands on swords, just in case.
"Oh, wow!" exclaimed Verdin as the stair gave way to a room still smelling of freshly cut pine.
A huge fireplace stood at one end, with a neat stack of seasoned wood piled from floor to ceiling on both sides. The massive room's wooden ceiling looked recent, though some of the beams had an aged appearance at odds with the planking laid across them.
"Is there another room above?" asked Balnus.
"Not exactly," replied Serifa.
"I'll go and check it anyway," he said.
Balnus returned to the spiral stair and climbed to the next floor. The stone built rooms were deserted and, as he stood on the fresh planking, he saw the roof had been repaired to keep the rain out. A few beams remained to show that, once, a room very like their own had been here.
Serifa had spoken the truth. This could hardly count as another room now, as all the heat would travel straight up into the roof, far above. There were no signs of recent occupation.
Balnus returned to the stair and checked every room as he climbed. The small rooms surrounded the central portion of the tower and all were deserted. He eventually came to the roof.
As he had already seen, the roof itself had been repaired. He noted fresh slates and realized he stood in what wa
s effectively the gutter. Openings in the round wall gave any water an escape route.
And the view!
Looking one way, he glimpsed the distant Turivkan. Small hamlets and rich farmland stretching to the foothills surrounded him in all directions. And the mountains hemming in the plain were clear today. He even saw other towers dotted about.
Hearing a sound, he spun on his heel, hand on swordhilt.
Verdin stepped out.
"Nearly," said Balnus, his smile more relieved than happy.
"Good lookout point," remarked Verdin.
"The tower's clear," reported Balnus.
"Thought it might be." Verdin grinned. "What a place. Care to tell me what's bothering you?"
Balnus shrugged. "It was fine until we got here. But it doesn't add up now."
"Why not?"
"These towers. Why are we using them? They stand out for milas, yet ordinary people don't bother with them. Why not? What do they know we do not?"
Verdin sniffed and looked out over the plain.
Balnus continued. "Yaan was eager to send Neptarik into the city and he wanted to send a pigeon. We're using towers to hide in, but these towers clearly still belong to the authorities – the very ones we want to hide from."
"The towers are abandoned," pointed out Verdin.
"Abandoned yes." Balnus nodded. "But are they ignored completely?"
"Tektu isn't sulking somewhere, is she?" Verdin kept his voice low, just in case someone had followed him up the stair,
Balnus turned to face Verdin and smiled. "I've sent her to the city," he replied. "Somehow, I think they'll be waiting for Neptarik."
"I think you're jumping at shadows and maybes."
"I hope you're right. But I've got the feeling here." Balnus prodded his own stomach. "I've felt it since yesterday and it's not going away."
***
Neptarik had very little to pack. He must look like a sylph on an errand, rather than some sort of itinerant chancing his luck in a new city. Allegedly, he was to take a letter to Pallun and he hoped it contained nothing to incriminate him.
He would carry nothing but his blanket, but Mya insisted he also took a change of shirt and breeches at the very least.
"Looks like you have had to travel then," said Mya.
Neptarik muttered, but obediently wrapped the small bundle in some oilcloth to keep out any wet and pushed his blanket aside, to wrap up after sleeping.
He and Mya sat in one of the free stalls. Once they had piled straw, they made the stall warm and comfortable.
Serifa joined them there, both sylph heads popping up as she approached.
"Letter," said Serifa, flourishing a missive. "Your owner tells me you can read."
Neptarik frowned, but nodded.
"You should know what it says," continued Serifa, "before I seal it. Remember to call yourself Neptarik-y-Selhend if anyone asks your name."
Neptarik gave the girl a level look before taking the letter from her hands. He bent his head to read. His eyes scanned the flowery greetings before he concentrated on the letter itself, reading it aloud for Mya's benefit.
"It is with much regret that I must inform you that the expected goods are unavailable at the price offered. Of course, I am happy to buy the merchandise rather than making the exchange as we had originally hoped, so at the least you will not be out of pocket."
The two sylphs exchanged a look before Neptarik continued.
"I have taken a new partner, the older of the two offered to me. He seems capable and has already begun to spur my people to greater and more effective production. He should do well.
"Please look after my sylph until I reach the city. His name is Neptarik and serves an excellent brew of alovak. Sincerely yours, Selhend."
"Full name Selhend Accas Elgan," said Serifa.
"Excellent brew of alovak," Neptarik grouched.
"Better brewing alovak than mucking out stables," Serifa pointed out. "Stop complaining.
"It looks innocent enough," said Neptarik, passing the letter back. "But humans are clever and might work it out."
"Maybe. But even if the duty officer wants to read it, he has no way of telling what the letter is about."
"He might ask what the merchandise is," pointed out Neptarik. "And ask for the new partner's name."
Serifa smiled. "You're just a sylph, your Mistress does not share this sort of information with you."
Neptarik's earpoints gave a violent twitch at the "just a sylph", but almost immediately recovered when he realized Serifa wasn't insulting him. "He will know sylphs have long ears," he retorted.
Serifa laughed. "The merchandise is cloth, the new partner is named Rannad. They won't be checking."
Neptarik watched as the girl secreted the letter into a pocket before fixing his gaze firmly on her eyes. "I hope you are right," he said.
"You'll be fine. I promise." Serifa smiled again, before leaving the two sylphs alone for the night.
***
Chapter 18
Preparations
Marlen Masser always knew when something felt wrong. Even with stronger and better talents, he had long since learned to listen when inner senses shouted warnings.
He leaned against the wooden guard and watched the bustle in the large courtyard below. People about their daily business, servants scurrying about tasks, sylphs cleaning or following their owner at a discreet distance. Everything and everyone in the Prefect's palace crossed that yard at some point.
Perhaps Delnor wanted to get his own back after Marlen had attacked him, though he doubted if the servant had told Dervra what secrets he had betrayed to his attacker.
Marlen wondered what Delnor had managed to hold back; perhaps he should give the man another visit.
What Delnor had told him caused worry enough.
Dervra really did have a contingency plan, and it excluded Marlen, as he had suspected. Worse, he could not learn where Nicolfer had disappeared to, presumably also thanks in part to Dervra's plotting.
"If the rebels succeed," Delnor had told him, "I am to stay here and make myself useful to the new Prefect."
"And keep contact with Dervra?" pressed Marlen.
A shrug of those thin shoulders. "More him keeping contact with me."
Marlen had already tried to recruit servants to work against Delnor, but the man seemed disgustingly popular, apparently a kind taskmaster who looked after those ranked beneath him.
But Shais of Turivkan's city guard hinted at a darker side of Delnor's personality.
"Used to be bullied," said the Captain, when Marlen asked about Delnor's past. "Picked on by one lad mercilessly."
"Someone I can meet?" Marlen had sounded hopeful.
Shais had shaken his head. "He fell arse first down a privy shaft and broke his back. Delnor was the only one to laugh when he heard."
Marlen had raised an eyebrow at that little snippet. And more came.
"Delnor is faithful," said one of the cooks, furiously kneading dough as Marlen questioned her. "He was at the last Prefect's side when he died."
Marlen suspected faithful might not be the best word to use. A bully involved with Delnor, who met a convenient death, and then an employer who died under questionable circumstances.
No wonder Dervra liked the man!
"You are being very thoughtful," said a voice beside him. "Perhaps Prefect Dervra should find you something to do."
Marlen had long since schooled himself to keep still, especially when startled. It usually put the other on the defensive. He turned his head and regarded General Teven neutrally. He hoped his pale blue eyes were at their very coldest.
"I am often thoughtful," he replied. "My job, like yours, requires a certain level of brain power."
Teven smiled, though that smile did not reach his black eyes.
"You are taking fresh information concerning our enemies to the Prefect?" continued Marlen, more to make conversation than from genuine inquiry.
"Something lik
e that." Teven smiled. "There are certainly enemies enough gathering on the plain."
"Oh? Are we talking a handful, or thousands?"
"Peasants with sticks." Teven's smile broadened. "Enough of them to cause a hard time."
"You have infiltrated their organization?"
"I'm working on it."
"Which means that you have." Marlen grimaced.
"If I give you a list of the cities and major towns in Turivkan, there is a group dedicated to overthrowing Dervra. The, um, census has proved a bad idea."
"Though successful in removing Adelbard's heirs," pointed out Marlen.
"Really?" Teven arched an eyebrow and gestured with an arm. "Somewhere out there, one of his heirs is gathering forces."
Marlen barked a laugh. "Both his sons are dead," he retorted. "They can prop any boy the right age on a horse and claim to follow Adelbard's heir. The orders were explicit."
"Which is why you killed all boys the right ages?"
Marlen shrugged. "Babes die all the time."
"There's a difference between dying and killing," pointed out Teven. "I wonder how many peasants with sticks would be out there right now had we not killed so many of their children."
"Well, no matter how many there are, we do have an army to protect the city," said Marlen. "And if that fails, I'm sure Dervra will run away."
"Now we come to it." This time, the smile did touch the General's eyes. "One of his most trusted lieutenants, yet the Prefect has excluded you from his reserve plan. Yes?"
"I suggest you mind your own business." Marlen kept his voice calm. "Which is defending this city."
Teven's look was too knowing. "Knowledge is power," he said. "The men out there believe that they have Adelbard's eldest son with them. If they believe it, they may as well have the real boy. It doesn't matter. What do you plan to do if the peasants with sticks win?"
Marlen blinked.
"You said yourself that they have brought down empires."
"I know. If they win, I'll move on."
"Which you've already done, else you wouldn't already be here." Teven's look was carefully neutral. "Like after the siege of Marka."
"A rout."
"Despite your careful plans. Dervra saved you then, no? Yet you feel excluded now."
"Dervra is not renowned for leaving loose ends," admitted Marlen.
"Sounds fatal."
"Sounds like you play the same game," retorted Marlen.
"I am just a simple soldier. Nothing more, nothing less."
Marlen snorted. "And a master politician. You must be, to have survived so long. What will you do when the peasants with sticks take over?"