Heir of Hope (Follower of the Word Book 3) Page 2

  “Caleb is not the man you once knew, Captain.”

  “Explain.”

  All right, fine. Caleb took a step forward.

  Lore raised his sword. “Don’t move unless I say you can.”

  Caleb ground his teeth and raised his hands. “We don’t have much time. You probably gave me away. The Azar Keepers could be here any moment.”

  “What do I care . . .” Lore stared at Caleb’s right hand.

  “So you can see it too.” Nierne studied Caleb’s palm as well. “I just found out myself.”

  Lore’s mouth opened and closed, his eyes as wide as two gold coins. “Impossible.”

  The man had no idea. “Yes.” Caleb lowered his hand. “I am an Eldaran.” He watched emotions flit across Lore’s face–moving as fast as if he were flipping through a book—until a hard look won out.

  “That doesn’t change anything.”

  “But it might.” The pieces fell together. Lore was here in Temanin because of that woman with the glowing hand . . . the woman Caleb had met up north, near the White City. And if she was the Eldaran woman, then odds were good that she was the Truthsayer Velyni mentioned. Yes . . . the more he considered it, the more he sensed it was so. “I know what happened to another Eldaran. The one called the Truthsayer.”

  Lore froze—and his eyes went wide.

  Jackpot.

  Chapter

  2

  “I know where the Truthsayer has been taken.”

  Lore gave a small shudder. “You know . . . you know where Rowen is?”

  So that was her name, the woman with the glowing hand. But she was a different kind of Eldaran. A Truthsayer, whatever that was. Not like him.

  Lore took a step back, his shoulders sagging. This Rowen was important to Lore. Maybe even important enough to spare his life, for a little while.

  “But I don’t understand.” Lore looked at him again. “How can you be an Eldaran? With everything you’ve done?”

  Ah yes, the question everyone was asking him tonight. Caleb almost laughed. Being an Eldaran had nothing to do with his past actions, thank the Word. “My mother was an Eldaran.”

  “Your . . . mother?”

  He didn’t like Lore’s tone of voice. “Yes, I had one. Even killers have mothers.” Nierne cringed. Hold it, sarcasm won’t help here.

  Lore turned away from him and looked at Nierne. “What about you? Is that why you’re here with him? You trust him?”

  Nierne glanced at him. Suddenly, with all his heart, he wanted Nierne to trust him, to believe him. Please, Nierne.

  “I know the kind of man Caleb Tala was. I was captured during the siege on the White City.” Her eyes flickered. “I was his captive. I heard what he was and saw with my own eyes his violent nature.”

  Lore cocked his head and folded his arms. “And yet you are here, with him?”

  Nierne sat down on the sleeping pallet and sighed. “Yes, I am.” She clasped her hands together and placed them on her knees. “Caleb is different now. Aren was right; I was sold as a slave. I tried to run away, but was caught. It was Caleb who saved me. He purchased my freedom. But I still didn’t trust him. Not really. Until he showed me his hand.”

  Lore’s lips formed a long, thin line. “And you trust him now?”

  Nierne looked up at Caleb. His heart rapped hard against his ribcage. He studied her face, looking for her answer.

  She looked away.

  Oh Word . . .

  “Yes. Yes I do.”

  Caleb blinked. Had he heard her right?

  “Captain Lore, you have no idea how much this man has changed. He is a new man now. He follows the Word. But it took me all this time to realize that.”

  Caleb let out his breath. She trusted him. Her words burned through his mind the same way wine burned down his throat and warmed his belly. The corner of his lip lifted into a half smile.

  Lore leaned back against the wall. “So you know where Rowen is? How?”

  “Velyni, my cousin’s consort, told me.”

  “Velyni?” Lore frowned. “Wait, I know this Velyni. I met her. She’s the one who took Rowen. But how do you know she took Rowen?”

  “I fought her. She wasn’t human. She was a shadow, a—” Caleb looked at Nierne for confirmation, “—a Mordra.”

  Nierne nodded, her face tightening at the word. He understood her fear. He had only faced one. He couldn’t imagine what Nierne had seen in Thyra. She had spoken little of it so far.

  Lore held up his hand. “Wait. You fought her? But you just said she was a shadow. How?”

  Caleb rubbed his face. Long, long story. “I can feel these beings, these Mordra. That is my gift. I found Velyni inside the palace, inside my cousin’s rooms. And I used . . . my mark . . . to banish her.” He wasn’t about to say he drew a sword from his palm. Lore already didn’t trust him. He didn’t need Lore thinking he was crazy too.

  “And she told you where Rowen is?”

  “She told me about a Truthsayer. That she had sent the Truthsayer to Thyra, to her master. Rowen is a Truthsayer, right?”

  “Yes.” Lore seemed distracted.

  Caleb studied Lore. The man was a couple inches taller than him and broader in the shoulders. Probably a couple years older too, judging from the thin lines across his face and the sprinkling of grey in his hair. But despite his age, Caleb had seen Lore in action and knew the man was still in top physical form. He could be an asset on their trip to Thyra. That is, if Lore didn’t try to kill him first.

  But was it worth the risk? Should he help Lore?

  Caleb knew his answer. Sands, he was going soft.

  He cleared his throat. “I am not asking you to trust me now. But I would like to invite you to travel with Nierne and me to Thyra.” Lore just stared at him. Not the best reaction, but Caleb pressed on. “I’m guessing Rowen was sent by ship, which means she will travel around Hont and up the western coast. That will take weeks. And they already have a head start. But I know a faster way: through the Great Desert.”

  Nierne’s head shot up. “The Great Desert? Don’t most people die trying to cross that?”

  Lore opened his mouth—

  Something crashed downstairs.

  Caleb spun and placed his hand on the door, his muscles tense. It could just be a bar brawl. He slid his hand down toward the handle. His fingers touched the metal when the tip of a blade pressed through his tunic and poked his side.

  “What do you think you are doing?”

  Caleb closed his eyes. Stay calm. “I was going to see what that crash was.” And see if the Keepers had been alerted to his presence here.

  “I will.”

  “But if there are Keepers down there, I will know how to spot them.” Caleb glanced back. “I know this tavern. I know who to look for.” The blade still pressed against his side. He snarled. “Look, if you’re going to trust me, now is the time to start, or we might as well break up this little party. Your choice.”

  A small growl emanated from Lore. But the blade moved away from his side. “Go, then. Check and see what is going on downstairs.”

  Caleb gave a curt nod. He opened the door and made his way along the dark hallway, scarcely making a sound. Voices rose and fell downstairs and the laughing from a half hour ago was gone.

  He crept halfway down the stairs and stopped. He peeked around the corner and down the rest of the stairs into the main room. The men and women sitting at the nearest tables were still, their gazes turned toward the door. He ducked his head so he could see past the ceiling and saw three men by the door across the room. One was an overweight costumer, his tunic soiled and his hair sticking up like little black spikes across his head. He was talking to two tall, lean men dressed in black. A yellow sash hung sideways across their chests. Large, curved swords hung at their sides.

  Caleb hissed s
oftly. Of all the nine shades . . . Azar Keepers. It didn’t take them long to find him. Had the fat patron alerted them? Or did Corin know him better than he thought? Well, Corin didn’t know all his secrets . . .

  The fat man pointed at the stairs, still talking. Both Keepers turned their gaze. Caleb swore and backed away.

  The wooden beads across the doorway to the back rooms rattled, then Dena’s voice rang out. “What are you doing in my tavern?”

  Caleb headed back up the stairs.

  “You have no business here . . .”

  Dena was buying him time. He sprinted down the hall to the room where Lore and Nierne were and burst into the room.

  Lore raised his sword in his direction. Caleb waved him off. “The Keepers are here. We need to go.” He crossed the room and shoved the curtains open. Lore and Nierne pounded him with questions, but he ignored them. He needed to find a way out of here, before the Keepers arrived.

  Pale moonlight streamed down across the city, giving faint light to the alley outside. A cart stood below, filled with something dark and lumpy. By the faint smell of it, manure. Well, it would cushion their fall.

  “All right.” Caleb turned and pointed at Nierne. “You first.”

  She crossed her arms “I don’t think you heard a single w—”

  “Nope.” Caleb grabbed her hand and pulled her to the window.

  “Wait, what are you doing?”

  “Tossing you out the window.”

  “But is it safe? I can’t see anything. It’s too dark.”

  “It’s fine. I just checked.” He placed his hands on her waist. “Up and out. Now.”

  She placed her hands on the windowsill and paused.

  “I can hear them coming.” Lore spoke from behind them.

  Caleb’s lips pressed tight. “Nierne, I will not let you be caught by the Keepers.”

  She looked back at him, her face a couple inches from his. Her eyes were dark and full.

  “Jump. Now.” Caleb gave her a little nudge.

  Nierne maneuvered her way out the window.

  “Bend your knees, let the motion carry you if you need to.” Caleb moved his hands to her back.

  She took a deep breath and nodded.

  The door busted open behind him. Caleb gave her a hard shove and watched her fall. She landed in the cart below. He heard her gasp and say something that sounded like “crackers.”

  He turned and faced the two Keepers in the doorway.

  Chapter

  3

  “Caleb Tala.” The taller Keeper stepped forward. His face had a hawkish appearance, his nose long and narrow like a beak, his eyes black and glittering in the shadow of the doorway. “By order of the Temanin Empire, you are under arrest.”

  Caleb reached for his dagger—

  Sands! Lore took them!

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lore raise his blade. Both Keepers turned toward Lore.

  “You are not our target.” The taller Keeper drew his long curved sword. “So I will give you a chance to leave, foreigner. But if you aid this man”—he nodded at Caleb—“then we will arrest you as well. Which will it be?”

  Lore stared back, his face like stone. He lowered his sword.

  Caleb snarled. That’s what he got for letting Lore take his weapons. He would never have let someone disarm him in the past. So much for building a bridge of trust.

  Should he tackle Lore, take his sword, and fight? Or should he shove Lore at the Keepers and jump?

  His eyes darted between Lore and the Keepers.

  With a flick, Lore tossed something into the air. “Caleb, catch!”

  His dagger flew across the room.

  The Keepers rushed inside.

  The dagger stuck in the wall beside him. Caleb pulled it out and dropped into position, his right hand and foot forward. “Don’t kill them!” The words left his mouth before he could think on them.

  Lore nodded and brought his sword up, catching the hawkish Keeper’s blade with his own.

  The other Keeper faced Caleb. His face was more round, and his eyes were a light shade of brown. Not a pure Temanin. There was fear in his eyes, too. The man must be a new Keeper.

  Advantage number one.

  Caleb rocked on his feet, waiting. He rarely used a dagger in a head on fight. He didn’t have to. Only twice had his victims ever turned and tried to fight him during an assassination. They didn’t live long afterward.

  His fingers readied for the fight. It was all about the fingers, not the wrist. The stab, not the slash. A thrust, a couple twists, and the damage, hardly noticeable to a healer, would kill anyone.

  He would have to be careful if he didn’t want to kill the Keeper. And move fast. He wouldn’t last long in a sword fight.

  The Keeper swung.

  Caleb caught the blade with his dagger and twisted the sword away. He stepped into the open space and with his palm open, hit the Keeper in the chest, using his momentum to feed the blow.

  The man flew back and hit the wall beside the doorway. Caleb went for the sword, but the Keeper was faster. He swung at Caleb’s legs.

  Caleb jumped back.

  The Keeper used that moment to come back to his feet.

  Caleb cursed and readied himself again. He would feint this time, then go for the blow.

  The Keeper closed the space between them. If the man were smart, he would know his weapon was superior in this situation. That arrogance might give Caleb the opening he needed.

  The Keeper thrust again. Caleb dodged, bending to avoid the blow. The man smiled and swung again.

  Caleb jumped back, his dagger still held forward. The wall was no more than a couple inches behind him. Better end this fight, or he might not live through it.

  The man swung. The blade cut through his tunic and scraped his skin. Caleb ignored the sting and went for the man’s shoulder.

  The man brought his sword up to block.

  There.

  Caleb dropped down, passing the man’s midsection and striking just above the knee. He gave the dagger a hard twist, then twisted again.

  The Keeper cried out. He dropped his sword and fell to the ground, clutching his knee.

  Caleb leaped back and looked to his right. Lore stood a couple feet away, his arm wrapped around the other Keeper’s neck, his sword nearby. The Keeper sagged and his eyes rolled up. Lore let go. The Keeper dropped to the ground and lay still.

  “He’ll live.” Lore moved away from the Keeper and picked up his sword. “But his head will feel like horses have trampled all over it.”

  “He’ll live as well.” Caleb nodded toward the other man who was clutching his knee. Blood covered the man’s hands. Blood. Hands. Would he ever change?

  At least I didn’t kill him.

  Still, disgust filled his belly as he turned toward Lore. “Let’s go before more arrive.”

  Lore nodded and headed toward the window.

  The Keeper with the wounded knee tried to get up, then slid back to the floor with a moan as Lore jumped out the window. Caleb hoped he hadn’t maimed the man for good. He grabbed his other daggers and the pouch Lore had thrown to the ground. They would need the gold and medicinal vials if they kept finding themselves in fights.

  He gripped the sill and looked out the window. Lore had already landed in the wagon and didn’t sound too pleased.

  Caleb shook his head and scrambled through the opening.

  The wind rushed through his hair and he was sure he’d left his stomach up in the window. A moment later he landed on a dark mound, his feet sinking into dung.

  He lifted one foot, then the other and made his way out of the wagon. The rancid smell of manure wafted around him. He jumped out the back and hurried across the street to the dark alley where Lore and Nierne were waiting.

  He joined th
em and wiped his hands on his pants. “Nasty stuff. But at least it was soft.”

  Nierne stared at him. “You knew what was in that wagon? And you had us jump into it?”

  Caleb looked up. “Yes. Couldn’t you smell it?”

  “No.”

  “Not until I jumped,” Lore said.

  Caleb looked back at the wagon. Neither of them had noticed? Was his Eldaran blood enhancing his senses? Or was it just his assassin instincts?

  Nierne sniffed and grimaced. “What about the Keepers?”

  Caleb turned around. “Down, but not dead.”

  “I’m sure they’ll have no problem finding us when they wake up.” Lore wiped his hands.

  Nierne nodded. “We definitely reek.”

  “Well, at least we had something to land in.” The tension in the air was like dry tinder ready to combust. Time to move on. “We need to get out of the city. Now.”

  Lore waved at Caleb. “Then by all means, lead the way.”

  His jaw locked. “Fine.” Caleb turned and started down the alley. Lore might have helped them escape the Keepers, but he wasn’t fully on their side. Not yet.

  Caleb led Lore and Nierne down dark streets, crisscrossing through alleys and dipping under walkways. He avoided the lamplight as much as possible, making his way to the western gate. Half of him was tempted to just leave Lore behind. He didn’t need the oh-so-righteous guard.

  However, Lore needed him.

  Caleb sighed. Love others. Protect others. Never did he think “others” would include the captain of the man he had murdered months ago. What if the other hated you?

  The answer was clear . . .

  Love anyway.

  •••

  An hour into their trek across the city, the long ride from yesterday and his fight with Velyni caught up to Caleb. His lungs felt like he had run for days, sweat and dung mingled along his skin, and his muscles were tightening up.

  “Caleb, wait,” Lore said behind him.

  Animosity filled his veins. Caleb stopped and spun around. “What?”