"I'll never be free of you, Charles."
"Never," he agreed. "We never are free from ourselves and our heritage." Abruptly, he wrung his hands together, a gesture that showed how deeply this parting hurt him. Only he wasn't wringing his hands; he was pulling the signet ring off of his right middle finger. "This is yours, the sigil of the Prince of Jeds. I left the gold chain of office in my tent, and Baron Santer in Jeds holds the scepter in trust, until you return."
She pushed herself away from Aleksi and took the ring from Charles and stared at it as if she had never seen it before. "How am I supposed to prove all this? When am I supposed to ride to Jeds? Is there any guarantee that Baron Santer will remember me, or be willing to give up his regency? And how in hell are Ilya and I supposed to unite Rhui, anyway?"
He lifted his hands, palms up, and smiled. "Tess, I never said it would be easy."
She laughed. "Damn you!"
"The prince is dead," said Marco, his voice almost obliterated by the ship's voice. "God save the prince."
"Marco," said Maggie. "Go to hell."
"No doubt I will."
The ship coughed. Only it didn't cough. Its mouth opened and a golden glow penetrated the night, washing into the hard white glare that illuminated Tess and her brother. A ramp pushed out from the maw of the beast, a bridge linking the heavens and the earth. A figure appeared in the glow and hurried down the ramp. An angel? One of Father Wind's attendants?
It resolved into a man like any man, except for the strange cut of his clothes and the blithe way he strode out of the ship and ignored its screaming howl and the battering wind. Marco hailed him, and the two men shook hands-that strange Erthe greeting-and he came over to Soerensen.
"Ah, Javier, how are you?" said Soerensen. "This is Tess. I don't believe you've ever met. Javier Lu Shen." Formal greetings were exchanged.
"Hold on," said Tess, turning first to look at the horses and then back to the new man. "Javier, can you ride?"
"Ride?" Soerensen turned to his sister. "What are you thinking about, Tess?"
"Charles, I have to tell Ilya something. He'll never believe you're dead unless he has more witnesses and a credible story of how you-God, it's impossible. But what if I tell him the truth, in terms he'd understand? You already laid down half the smokescreen, you know, by pretending to ride into the battle. So if I tell Ilya that you're dying here, as Prince of Jeds, in order to go back to Earth-to Erthe-to fight the khepelli, and if Ilya tells the army that you're dead, who will question him?"
"Yes. I had thought that far. But what has this to do with whether Javier can ride?"
"A horse?" Javier demanded. "Do you mean a horse? One of those things? I've never ridden one."
"You'll learn," said Tess with a brief smile. "I did." She turned back to her brother. "Charles, you have to go on the shuttle. But if Marco and Javier ride north and swing back to Abala Port, where you came in last spring, and sail to Jeds, then they can go out on the shuttle through Jeds."
"Which means that Marco can deliver the news of my death to Baron Santer."
"Yes! And meanwhile, Ilya will get the report that two khaja men, you and Marco, rode through jaran territory and left by ship. For Erthe."
"This is all very convoluted, Tess," protested Charles.
Poor Javier looked appalled.
"How else can I explain it to Ilya? I've got the messenger bells and messenger seal-they'll provide Marco and Javier with safe passage, new mounts, and supplies. They can ride as quickly as-well, as Javier learns. Speed and secrecy. Isn't that what we need? To prepare Rhui for the rebellion? You leave, Ilya knows enough to satisfy him, knows that he's part of the conspiracy, and he can say you died in the battle today. Cara can confirm it. We can burn some poor nameless soul as your body, and it's done."
"But what about Marco?" asked Charles. "Does Marco want to ride all that way?"
"What about me?" wailed Javier.
"I don't mind," said Marco in a low voice, barely audible above the roar of the ship. "Pm leaving camp anyway. What do I care? It has to be done. I think it's a good idea."
"Javier doesn't look anything like me," said Charles.
"That's true, but you're both khaja." Tess dismissed this objection with a wave of her hand. "If he wears a hood and none of the patrols ever gets a close look at him, and they pass along quickly, then how much of the physical description will ever get back to us? None of the patrols or tribes you'll pass will have seen you before anyway. It will do. It's the best we can do. Trade clothes. You'll be fine. I'm right in this, Charles. You know I am."
He considered her. The trees tossed in the wind, and leaves tore free from branches and swirled away into the night. "Convoluted," said Soerensen, "and worthy of a Chapalii duke's heir. We'll see if you can pull it off."
"But, Charles," said Tess sweetly, with a wicked gleam in her eyes, "you don't really have a choice, do you? By this ring, you've given me authority on this planet. So I order you to do as I say. Damn you, anyway. We're just pawns to you, Ilya and I, aren't we?"
His lips quirked up, and he laughed. "Don't forget how chess is played. With patience and cunning and wit, as well as the right strategy, a pawn can become the most powerful piece in the game."
He bent and kissed her, once on each cheek, in the formal jaran style. He said farewell to the others, to Aleksi, and then he and Javier turned and walked back to the ship. Aleksi watched as he vanished into the golden light of the interior.
Tess's legs gave out, and she collapsed to the ground. Aleksi dropped down beside her immediately, scared for her, but she nodded her head against him and just sat there, breathing shallowly.
"Tess!" Maggie exclaimed.
Tess shook her head and lifted-with great effort-one hand as a signal that she was all right.
Soerensen emerged from the ship, except it wasn't Soerensen but the other man, dressed in his clothes and in his jaran armor, helmet strapped awkwardly onto his head. The maw closed behind him. The white light snapped off, bathing them in darkness.
"Why me?" he asked as he came up to them. Then he saw Tess. "Oh, my. M. Soerensen, are you-?"
A high-pitched whine pierced the roar of the beast, and the ground trembled under Aleksi's feet. The horses pulled away, and Maggie and Marco tugged them down and tried to reassure them with their voices, only the ship howled and all at once bucked up and as slow as if Father Wind's invisible hand lifted it, it rose up into the night, jewel eyes winking open and closed, open and closed.
Tess tucked her head down. The wind washed over her, where she sat huddled on the ground. Maggie fought her two horses, dragging on them as they whinnied and tried to jerk free, to bolt, even though they couldn't bolt because they were hobbled. The hot breath of the ship slapped Aleksi's face, and the creature spun and showed a new face to him, gleaming pale in the starlight, and rose up into the night, blinking, blotting out stars, and rumbled and roared, and the wind howled down, and the trees bent under its force, and dust clotted the air, and he choked on the grit and shut his eyes and held onto Tess.
And the roar lightened and faded and the wind dropped and a low moan rang through the night air. Stars winked in and out, and then only the wind blew and the night lay silent under the stars. The canopy of clouds grew in the west. The horses calmed.
"Now what?" asked Marco, his voice a ringing shout in the quiet.
"You'd better go now," said Tess, her voice as soft as Marco's had been inadvertently loud. Aleksi showed Marco how to bind on the vest of bells. Tess roused herself for long enough to discuss with Marco routes and strategies, and at last the two men left, leading their horses up the confining slope, heading northeast. The muted ring of bells faded into the night.