Walegrin made his way slowly up the hills behind Sanctuary to Balustrus' villa. His energy went into finding the ground with each foot. He'd need food and sleep before he could face Illyra's problems again. It occured to him that he wouldn't be able to leave until she was found, one way or the other.
A woman's weeping caught his attention. His half-asleep thoughts converged around Illyra as a shape rose out of the darkness and threw itself around him. By the smell it wasn't Illyra. He pushed Cythen aside and studied her in dawnlight.
The jagged cut along the girl's face had been re-opened sometime in the night. Fresh clots of blood had twisted her expression into something worthy of Balustrus. Tears and sweat made vertical lines across her dirty skin. Walegrin's first impulse was to toss her headfirst into the brush. Instead he took her hand and led her to a rock. He unfastened his cloak and handed it to her, telling himself he'd do the same for any of his men, and not entirely believing it.
"They've got Thrusher and Cubert's dead!" she sobbed.
He took her hands, trying to distract her from the hysteria that made her all but incoherent. "What about Thrush?"
Cythen buried her face in her hands, sniffed loudly then faced Walegrin without the tears. "We were Downwind, past Momma Becho's. We were trailing a Stepson pair we'd been told passed that way after sundown carrying a body. Thrush was leading, I was in the rear. I heard a noise. I gave a warning and turned to face it, but it was a trap and we were outnumbered from the start. I never got my knife out-they had me from behind. It was a carry-off; they weren't trying to kill us. I went down before they hit me hard-but Thrush and Cubert kept fighting.
"I got my chance once we were back in the City, near the palace. I didn't linger, but they only had Thrusher with us-so Cubert's dead."
"How long ago was this?"
"I came straight here, and I haven't been here long."
"And you're sure it was the Prince's palace- not Jubal's?"
She became indignant. "I'd know Jubal's if I saw it. I'd have stayed and gotten Thrush out if it had been Jubal's. The Stepsons and Tempus haven't had enough time to learn what any hawkmask knows about the mansion. But we were attacked by Stepsons, anyway."
"You knew that?"
"By the smell."
Walegrin was too tired to continue sparring. He'd lost Thrusher who'd been with him longer than anyone, who was more friend and family than lieutenant. Moreover, he didn't have a hostage to strengthen his position. It was impossible to believe this scrawny, starving woman could escape where Thrush hadn't-
"You don't believe me, do you?" she said. "Thrush trusted me at his back. He must've fought until they hit him hard, where's I gave up sooner. That's the difference, Walegrin, you say women have no honor because they'll lose first and win later. You men have to win all the time or die trying. If I was in on it, would I have come back like this?"
"To lead me in," Walegrin challenged, but without conviction.
The sun was up when he slid the bolt of the villa-gate and led Cythen into the courtyard. Balustrus was waiting for them. The metal-master already knew some of the night's events.
"Seems you won't be jumping early after all?" he accused.
"Yes, I'd planned to leave," Walegrin agreed. "The longer I stay; the tighter the noose. I'm getting out. I leave you the ore, the necklace and the formula you don't need anything else."
"It won't be that easy unless you've replaced Thrusher with that bone-bag behind you. Word's come from the palace." Balustrus handed him a scroll with its seal broken.
The writing confirmed Cythen's story that they'd been taken to the palace by Stepsons. The Prince commanded Walegrin's presence in the Hall of Justice. Walegrin crumpled the paper and threw it into the dirt. He could have abandoned Thrusher; he could have abandoned Illyra-but he could not abandon them both.
"Cythen," he whispered to her as they entered the room he shared with Thrusher. He looked about for a cleaner tunic. "No matter what, don't stop looking for Illyra, hear me? If you find her you take her back to the bazaar. The S'danzo will help, and Dubro. They won't ask about your past. Do you understand?"
She nodded and watched without interest as he cast his filthy tunic aside and pulled another one over his head.
"You should wash first," she told him. "You shouldn't stink before the Prince. You won't win any bargains."
Walegrin glared at her, dropping the second tunic to the floor as he stormed toward the stream where they washed.
"I wasn't always like this," she shouted after him.. "I know better ways."
Dripping, but clean, Walegrin returned to the room to find his tunic lying neatly on the mattress. Somehow the girl had gotten the extra wrinkles out. His bronze circlet had been given a quick polish and some of the mud was gone from his sandals. But Cythen herself was gone from the shed, the courtyard and the villa. Coming on top of the loss of Illyra and Thrusher it was almost more than he could endure. Had he found her right then he would have cheerfully beaten her.
But the girl had been right, damn her. He felt better clean. His few men straightened up as he assembled them in the courtyard. He told them what he'd told Cythen. They grumbled and he doubted they'd wait more than a day before going their separate ways if he did not return. He looked for Balustrus too, and found only his share of the swords. The ore, the necklace and the metal-master had vanished. He was getting used to that.
Knots ofpeople ducked out of his path once he was on the streets. He was recognized, but no-one stopped him. With eyes fixed forward, he walked past the gallows, not chancing a glance at the corpses. The gatekeeper took his name without ceremony and a lad appeared to conduct him to the Hall of Justice.
He was left alone there in the echoing chamber. Kadakithus himself was the first to enter, accompanied by two slaves. The young prince dismissed the slaves and took his place on the throne.
"So, you're Walegrin," he began simply. "I thought I might recognize you. You have been no small amount of trouble."
Walegrin had intended to be quiet and meek-to do whatever was necessary to free Thrush. But this was Kittycat and he invited disrespect. "Finding your clothes each morning must be equal trouble. You've got my man in your dungeons. I want him freed."
The Prince fidgetted with the ornate hem of his sleeve. "Actually I don't have your man. Oh, he's been taken all right, and he's alive-but he's Tempus' prisoner, not mine."
"Then I should be talking to Tempus, not you."
"Walegrin, I may not have your man-but I have you," the Prince said forcefully.
Walegrin swallowed his reply and studied the Prince.
"That's better. You're entitled to your opinion of me-and I'm sure I've earned it. There's a lotto be said for playing one's part in life. Now, you'll talk to Tempus after you've talked to me-and you'll be glad of the delay.
"I've had gods know how many letters from Ranke about you-starting before you disappeared. I got my most recent one with the recent delegation from the capital. Zanderei-as cunning an assassin as they could find. I know how much money you got from Kilite. Don't look so surprised. I was raised in the Imperial Household-I wouldn't be alive at all if I didn't have some reliable friends. The chief viper in my brother's nest is always asking for you. He seems to think you've discovered Enlibar steel; I assure him that you haven't, though I know you have. I know how much he said he'd pay you for the secret; so I know you're not in Sanctuary looking for a better price. But then, I also know what Balustrus said about your progress with the steel. Does any of this surprise you?"