“Grandmother is protective of her people is all. While we wait for her, let’s get you another cup of broth. You look like you haven’t had a good meal in some while.”
Zachary thought back to the fungus he, Nari, and Magged had subsisted on in the cave. “No, I haven’t.”
• • •
He awaited Grandmother, wrapped in his cloak by the fire. As he did so, he watched people come and go across the great hall intent on their own business. There were those he identified as soldiers, though they wore no uniform or insignia. They lingered in the great hall keeping watch on him. Their regard was not friendly, and when Varius was called away to tend someone else, he was sorry to lose the one friendly person he’d met, thus far. Min, who seemed to be Varius’ assistant, always had a sour expression on her face when she looked in his direction.
When Grandmother arrived, she was flanked by the curly-haired woman and a man who was clearly an officer, for the other soldiers saluted him. Zachary stood, a little unsteadily, at their approach.
“Good morning to you, Dav,” Grandmother said, looking him over with a critical eye. “So, you have not died on us. This is Captain Terrik, and Nyssa. They will be listening while you and I talk.”
Zachary bowed his head to them, and they all sat on benches before the hearth.
“From where do you hail?” Grandmother asked him.
“Duck Harbor,” he replied. “Coast of L’Petrie.” It was on the border of Hillander and would explain his slight accent.
“Are you a fisherman?”
“Nah,” Zachary replied, trying his best to stay in character. “My da ran the mercantile in the village.” Which would explain why his manner of speaking wasn’t more rustic.
“What on Earth are you doing up north?” Grandmother looked incredulous.
“I was in North, the town, looking after lumber interests. Y’see, my da supplies the local shipwrights. I was up to do some negotiating with sellers.” The next part would strain their credulity, and he was no Fiori when it came to telling stories. He took a deep breath and said, “I was staying at the Full Moon, playing cards, maybe drinking a little.”
“That’s probably one of the roughest taverns in North,” Captain Terrik remarked.
Zachary nodded sagely. He’d certainly heard enough reports about it, and other establishments in North, as well. “The fellows there, the lumbermen, they didn’t like that I was winning.”
“I think I can see where this is going,” Nyssa said, looking amused.
“Probably you can,” Zachary said. “A little too much drink, and me winning too much. They, three of them, beat me up, took me out to the middle of nowhere, beat me some more. I woke up stripped of my winnings and my clothes. It was freezing.” His listeners, even Grandmother, appeared to be enjoying the tale. If they believed him, he could not tell, but at least his bruises would give credence to the idea he’d been in a fight. He continued to play the part by trying to look aggrieved. “Those fellows just as soon I died out in the woods with no one the wiser. They didn’t care.”
“Tell us, Dav,” Grandmother broke in, “how you did not die.”
Zachary coughed. He was still hoarse. “Maybe I could have another drink?”
Grandmother called to Min to fetch more water. An uneasy silence followed as they waited. Nyssa examined her fingernails. Captain Terrik seemed to fall into deep thought. Grandmother gazed speculatively at him from beneath hooded eyes. As a king, he would have met her gaze. As Dav Hill, he did not. He fidgeted, looked anywhere other than at Grandmother. He showed that he was nervous. Meanwhile, he wondered where Fiori was, wondered what magic Grandmother was capable of. He knew some of it, but largely she was a mystery to him and his spymasters. If he could find a way to eliminate her, he could possibly slow Second Empire’s rise. If they did not believe his story, he would have to act immediately. If that were the case, the odds were not in his favor.
Min finally returned with a cup of water that was icy cold. He drank it down, but when he was ready to resume his story and tell them how he’d come upon a hermit’s cave in the woods, his listeners were distracted by the entrance of others into the great hall. Five men strode in, three of whom were dressed in ordinary woodsmen’s attire like the soldiers of the encampment. Two were dressed in the black and silver uniforms of his Sacoridian soldiers. Zachary almost jumped to his feet until he realized who it was.
Grandmother and Captain Terrik did rise to greet the newcomers, Nyssa following. Zachary pulled his cloak up about his shoulders and bowed his head, allowing his hair, which had grown some during his time at the cave, to fall over his face.
“Captain Immerez!” Grandmother exclaimed. “I am ever so glad to see you.”
If anyone could identify him, Zachary thought, it was Immerez.
FROM KING TO THRALL
“Terrik!” Immerez exclaimed. “You’ve been promoted—my condolences.”
Good-natured banter accompanied the greetings as though Immerez were a hero returned. Zachary watched from the corner of his eye as the Mirwellian was patted on the back by those who came to see him. Along with his freedom, he’d obtained the hook that replaced his missing hand, the hand Karigan had cut off, Zachary thought with grim satisfaction. He wondered about the soldiers he’d sent in pursuit of Immerez after his escape, and he was soon answered.
“Need we be on the lookout for king’s men on your trail?” Terrik asked.