Lady Sarai was not entirely satisfied with this, but she could think of no good answer. “I would never have thought a murder case could turn into something like this,” she muttered to herself.
No one heard her, as Lord Torrut continued, “I sent that woman Alorria to rouse the overlord. And I’ll leave it to this group here to get old Ederd and anyone else who Tabaea might want to kill out of the palace and down to Seagate before she gets here; and while you’re doing that, I’ll be doing what I can to slow her arrival.”
“Then you’re not going to flee yourself, Lord Torrut?” someone asked.
“Of course not!” Lord Torrut grinned outright. “At long last, I have a war to fight!”
PART THREE
Empress
CHAPTER 25
Lady Sarai could hear distant shouting as she tucked the blanket around her father; Tabaea and her army must have gotten as far as Quarter Street, at the very least. Kalthon the Younger sat upright at the back of the wagon, looking slightly dazed; Lady Sarai could see his expression clearly in the light of the torch the wagon’s driver held.
“Sarai, I don’t understand,” her brother said again.
“You don’t have to,” Sarai said. “You just do what I told you.”
“But aren’t you coming?”
Sarai hesitated. She looked down at her father. He had appeared to be more or less awake when they left the palace, and had moved partly under his own power, but now he gave no sign of consciousness; he probably couldn’t hear anything, might well have no idea what was going on around him. “No,” she said, “I’m not.”
“But why not?” young Kalthon protested. “If this crazy magician would kill us all, won’t she kill you, too?”
“Oh, I suppose she will if she catches me and finds out who I am, yes.” Sarai attempted a mocking smile, but it didn’t work very well—or perhaps her brother couldn’t see it in the dark; her face was probably in shadow from where he sat.
“Then shouldn’t you come with us?”
“No. ” She gave the blanket a final tug, then let herself slide back over the side of the wagon.
“Why nor?” Kalthon’s wail was heartbreaking. “How am I going to manage Daddy without you?”
“You won’t be alone; there will be people to help. The overlord’s going, too, and all his family. His granddaughter An-nara will help. And Ederd the Heir.” She hoped Ederd the Heir would, at any rate; he was a healthy man, not yet fifty, but prone to turn morose and useless at times. His daughter Annara was just a year older than Sarai, though, and still cheerful and energetic.
“But what will you do? Are you staying in the palace? Is this horrible woman going to kill you?”
“No,” Sarai said. “No, she won’t kill me. I won’t stay in the palace. I’ll hide somewhere in the city.”
“But if you’re hiding, why can’t you come with us?”
Sarai sighed. “Kallie,” she said, “I’m sending you and Dad and the others away so you’ll be safe, but someone has to stay here to fight Tabaea, and I ’m going to be the one from our family who does that.”
“What about Ederd the Heir, then? Shouldn’t he be staying?”
“No, because he’s too valuable. He’s the overlord’s heir.”
Kalthon couldn’t argue with that, but he still didn’t like it.
“I think you should come with us,” he said.
“No, Kallie,” Sarai said gently. Then she stepped away and told the waiting driver, “Go, quickly!”
He obeyed wordlessly, setting the torch in its bracket and cracking the reins over the horses.
Lady Sarai watched them go, the horses trotting, the wagon bumping its way down Palace Street, toward the docks at Seagate. The torchlight wavered madly with the wagon’s motion, sending light and shadow dancing insanely across the darkened housefronts on either side.
Sarai hoped that using horses wouldn’t be too conspicuous, especially at this hour of the night; the palace stables had held no oxen, and besides, oxen would be dangerously slow. A few of the richest merchants were using horses to draw their wagons now, weren’t they?
She hoped so. Or if not, then she hoped Tabaea wouldn’t know any better; it was entirely possible the little thief wouldn’t even recognize a horse, or wouldn’t know that they were traditionally the exclusive property of the nobility.
The royal family was all safe now, or as safe as she could make them—Ederd IV, his wife Zarrea, his sour old bachelor brother Edarth, the aging son who would one day be Ederd V, his wife Kinthera, and their daughter Annara, all rousted from their beds and sent hurrying on their way to a hastily chartered ship. And now Lady Sarai’s own family, her father and brother, were following. Okko, too old to fight—if theurgists could fight, which they generally couldn’t—had gone as well.
Lord Torrut hadn’t fled, of course; he was out there somewhere, trying every sort of trap, ambush, and delaying tactic he could improvise. Sarai was fairly sure that Captain Tikri was with him. And most of the magicians she had collected in the palace were taking shelter at various places in the city, on Wizard Street or elsewhere. And of course, she was staying, herself—but where?
There was a temptation to remain in the palace after all, but to pretend to be someone else—borrow a maid’s apron, perhaps, or join the assistant cooks in the kitchens. After all, as far as she knew, Tabaea had never seen her and wouldn’t recognize her face.
That was too risky, though. Tabaea might have spies, or her unknown magic might expose the deception, or some innocent servant might slip up and reveal Sarai’s rank.
No, Sarai knew she would have to find somewhere else-but where?
She realized she was still staring down the black and empty length of Palace Street, though the wagon was out of sight; she turned away with a wry smile.
Maybe, she thought, she should go to the Wall Street Field. After all, wasn’t that where anyone in Ethshar went who had lost her home and been thrown out into a hostile world? And wouldn’t it be appropriate, now that Tabaea’s ragtag followers would be taking their places in the palace?
But it wasn’t everyone from the Field who was marching with the self-proclaimed empress, and Sarai realized, with a bitter little laugh, that the Field was probably the place in all the city outside the palace where she was most likely to be recognized as Lord Kalthon’s daughter.
The barracks towers in Grandgate would be almost as bad— and besides, a woman alone there would hardly be safe. Besides, Grandgate, or any part of Wall Street, was a long way from the palace. She wanted somewhere closer at hand, somewhere she could keep an eye on things, the way the magicians did.
The magicians were mostly on Wizard Street, of course—and not necessarily the closer sections, since for many their spells could serve them even at a distance.
She frowned. She was no magician, and she hardly belonged on Wizard Street. She had a little money with her—not much, but a little. Why not just take a room at an inn?
No, she told herself, that would be too exposed, would involve too much dealing with strangers, and at this hour, would be far too noticeable. Ordinary travelers didn’t take rooms hours after midnight, did they?
A high, thin scream sounded somewhere to the northeast, on the other side of the palace. The shouting was much closer, and she could hear other noises, noises she couldn’t identify. Tabaea must be almost to the palace, and here she was, still standing on the plaza across from Palace Street.