That was right. Those were the words. She struggled to put some feeling to them, to make them seem genuine. To make her eyes not betray her. But the truth was that she was worried about him. The waiting was torture.
Suddenly there were bells tolling. Great enormous bells shuddered from the spires of the Arch-Rike’s palace. Hettie froze. That was the signal Kiranrao had warned her about. They were the alarms of the city, and they meant that all traffic into and out of Kenatos would halt until the bells sounded again. There was no explanation given, only the sound of the bells. Every boat in the slip would need to stay at anchor. Boats that had not docked yet would be stranded and forced to return to the outer network of piers.
The clanging noise frightened a group of starlings into flight, and Hettie watched them flee, oblivious to the Arch-Rike’s orders to the contrary.
The bells meant that Kiranrao had been discovered. That did not necessarily mean that his plan had failed. She rubbed her palms together briskly, staring up at the wall and then down the sharp slope into the grounds. They were not sculpted gardens, for the terrain was too craggy for that. The parks were on the other side of the palace, facing the majority of the citizens of Kenatos. In the rear of the palace were thick brush and dwarf pines and other rugged plants that could survive with little water and no attention.
Sounds came to her, and she quickly ducked lower into the brush and tried to identify them. Lower down from the wall approached a retinue of guards with several black hounds on leashes. They were still a way off, but they were sniffing and looking for a scent or a trail. She frowned, knowing that the beasts would eventually find her scent. Her stomach began flip-flopping violently. How many men? A dozen? She counted them quickly. They were all soldiers except one. The one with the biggest hound was a Rike of Seithrall.
Two men landed right behind her and Hettie nearly screamed.
In that instant, she swung around with her bow; Kiranrao caught the stock before she could follow the movement with an arrow. As Kiranrao and Paedrin had struck the ground, they had dropped to a low crouch to allow the brush to hide them.
“Were you worried I was captured?” Kiranrao asked playfully, his eyes searching her face. Then he looked at her suggestively. “Finder garb suits her well. Doesn’t it, Bhikhu?”
She saw Paedrin gawking at her and almost favored him with a smile. But they were far from danger. “There are soldiers over there, searching for tracks. Ssshh!”
Paedrin’s eyes were bloodshot and his chin covered with recent growth. He looked haggard and spent, but his eyes fastened to hers with a desperation she had never seen before.
“Your shoulder?” she asked, nodding toward it.
“Healed,” Kiranrao answered for him. “He is not prone to much talk since I rescued him. Notice the ring on his hand? It looks like a wedding band, does it not?”
Hettie had not noticed it and cursed herself for spending so much time absorbing the look on his face. Paedrin held up his hand for her to see it. It was an ugly thing, made of iron with silver symbols carved into it. His eyes were haunted.
“What is it?” Hettie whispered.
Kiranrao gave her a snort. “He’s more to be pitied than laughed at now. It’s a Kishion ring. The lad is wedded to the Arch-Rike now. Still happy I saved him for you?” He held out his hand. “Payment due. Give me the stones.”
Hettie hated deceiving Paedrin like this. She gritted her teeth. “He is no use to us if he has not his own will!”
“Let Tyrus unscramble his brains then. I want the stones to trade him for the blade. My service is performed. Hand me the stones, girl.”
Hettie took the pouch from her belt and untied it, then flung them at him roughly. “Take it!” she snapped angrily.
Kiranrao nodded his head with a broad smile. “He still hasn’t spoken a word. The silent are often guilty. I will draw away these fools and then meet you at the boulders by the shore.” He clapped Paedrin on the back. “Go with her, boy. She will lead you away.” He rose slightly and stared down at the soldiers at the base of the hill. “A windy day is the wrong one for thatching. Time to fly!” He broke away from the brush at a sprint, making plenty of noise to draw the attention of the dogs and the men.
“Look! Up there! There he goes!”
The soldiers let out a shout and started at a run, letting the dogs loose to begin the chase. One of them held a horn to his lips and blew hard on it, sending a strong sound into the morning air, but nothing compared to the clanging of the bells earlier.
Hettie still nestled in the brush with Paedrin. She took his hand, the one with the ring, and gently squeezed it. She gave him a wry look. “No insults yet? Why dark leathers don’t look so subtle at dawn? Why I look like I haven’t slept all night, since I haven’t? Do you need some help or is your mind truly gone?”