in misfortune, we hunt
The sad thing was, Kel thought as she woke up with a blinding headache and the impression that she had been given a thorough working-over by well-aimed feet and fists, was that she wasn't even surprised. The sand was warm beneath her -- too warm for it to be something else but far past the morning tides -- and the sun beat down on her face in a way that made her skin feel taut and dry. The ship had left -- there was no doubt about it. She didn't blame them, either -- a lady knight wasn't welcome on most ships and a lady knight exiled for crimes against the crown? When the ship weighed anchor beside a small island last night, the crew talking between themselves and stopping when she came within hearing -- it had been obvious.
Gritting her teeth, Kel raised an arm that felt less than broken and more than whole to shade her face, then opened her eyes, squinting. Sand, the ocean, the occasional bird. She turned her head. Her belongings, not so neatly thrown next to her. The sailors most likely thought them cursed, otherwise they would have taken them and made a tidy profit. Nevertheless, she was grateful.
Kel raised her head slightly, the muscles in her neck immediately protesting. Something near her ear made a ripping sound and she could feel a warm trickle over her skin towards the ground. Peering into the distant horizon, towards the belt of islands Kel knew were there, she saw the slight contours of two ships: one of which seemed to be heading in her direction. She tensed, then forced herself upright, ignoring the way her skin ripped in other places and her bones and muscles ached. Glancing towards her things, it wasn't hard to figure out she couldn't bring all of it. Blankets and weapons would have to do. She couldn't stay.
***
The captain entered her room with an empty look on his face, flaxen hair bound up tight and out of the way. The storm had calmed as he'd said, but Kel was still bruised and bleeding from being rolled and shoved into things in the cargo hold by the fury of the storm. She could vaguely see something glinting in one of his hands; when he knelt over her again, hands rough on her skin, Kel knew it was a key.
"The slave trade route is but a few miles off of the next island we're missing out on because of you," he told her companionably as he unlocked Kel's shackles and took them off, disregarding the skin stuck to metal with dried blood. "Raoul was a good friend once and you broke his heart." He dropped the last shackle and it thumped down hard on Kel's arm. She bit her lip hard, refusing to make a sound. "The King's instructions was to leave you at the slave port. My friendship with Raoul will give you a chance." He looked down at her with an odd smile. "Me personally? Think you should be left to rot."
***
She ended up dragging herself into the subtropical forest that began immediately where the tides could no longer reach the roots. The blankets had been knotted into packs, her weapons wrapped within them along with some small items she thought she might need. First, Kel had tried to sling them over her back and walk; but as the dizziness sent her flying over the sand, the stone scorching against her skin, it was evident she could not. So she crawled and hoped she would be fast enough. The sails had grown larger.
***
The floor was weaving beneath her and the shackles pulled her down until she could barely glide along the floor to the beat of the waves. Kel could feel the storm outside, almost hear the thud of bare feet as the men worked topside. The curious thing, however, was that they weren't.
The captain laughed at the expression on her face, still seated where he had been for the last two hours; studying her, whittling on a small chess piece of exquisite detail. Kel could almost make out the King's face from where she was lying. "The storm will settle soon," he informed her, fingers flicking scraps of wood off of his knees. "Weather magery runs in the family."
Kel rolled over on her side as he hopped down from his crate and ambled over, feet sure on the moving floor. His long hair danced in the air behind him and as he crouched over her, sliding a finger under the metal encasing her arms, her wrists; it fell across her weathered skin like a silk's caress. "The storm might settle for the weather mage," the captain mused, quiet and foreboding even though Kel knew what he would say. "I don't think it might settle for a lady knight." His fingers dug into the seam between steel and flesh, and Kel couldn't help but wheeze out a breath of pain, the skin beneath the metal black and sore from her confinement. "No, I really think it won't," he said decisively and turned away, exiting the room.
Kel blinked after him; this was the first time he'd left her since they set sail. She shook her head, limp hair flopping across her face, and let it thump back down on the straw that made up her bed. Marren, her mind said and Kel batted away the thought, replacing it with something more solid than rocking wood. This was no longer something she could manipulate.
***
The glen Kel chose was nearly on the other side of the island, only a stone's throw away from cliffs falling steeply into a reef; waves crashing against the weathered wall in a dull roar that never seemed to leave her ears until her head seem to vibrate and she could barely think. The roots of a tree giant served as her shelter as she wrapped herself into the blankets and closed her eyes. The skin of her back was smooth and warm. There was still time to sleep and the slavers wouldn't find her here, even though she could hear their shouts from the strip of beach. Let them scream, Kel's mind said, there's only clothes and knickknacks left. They might as well have them when they won't get you. There was still time.
***
Her back was still aching when the guards threw the doors of her cell open and it was a challenge to straighten up enough to walk, even with rough hands beneath her arms gripping so strong that they would surely leave bruises. The floor was cold as they marched her down and down until the gates opened and she was brought outside. Kel lifted her head and she could see Raoul standing beside the ship, face white and hand clenched around his sword. Alanna was there as well and something in her eyes told Kel that it was all over.
"So this is the traitor," a man said, standing by the gangplank. His hands was jammed into the sash around his waist and Kel could see the glint of steel beside them where the long, flaxen hair did not cover them. She saw no recognition in his blue eyes, and it was just as well. "Well, get a move on then. We don't want to miss the tide."
The guards didn't comment, but Raoul made a move as if to intercept them. Kel looked at him and he flinched back. He didn't turn his eyes away though, watching as she marched up the plank and into the belly of the ship. The ground was weaving.
***
Kel dreamed. Pain in her back, pain in her throat. Pain in her eyes, pain in her heart. Blood on her sword, blood everywhere, until the screaming started and she couldn't breathe. The guild, the people in her mind said. The guild. They've attacked the guild! The Self in her dream asked: Who? And all the echoes that returned said only one thing: thekingthekingthekingtheking.
***
Twelve years serving as a knight, five of them as the commander of a fugitive camp and four attached to the King's Own, before she was given her own command at the border. She had the ear of the King, a solid friendship with the King's Champion and diplomatic ties to the Yamani Islands. There were reasons and Kel knew them; there were reasons to do it, so she had. Kel looked into the King's eyes and told him: "Yes."
King Jonathan's eyes were blank as he sentenced her -- a lifetime of exile; reduced only for your service to the crown -- and Kel's heart thumped. A shadow moved behind him, and for a moment she thought she saw something golden-orange glinting behind the throne. Then they brought Marren before the King and Kel turned her attention to her (former?) squire.
***
The blazing pain tore across her lower back and Kel woke up with a scream, echoed by another across the thundering of the waves and the sudden shrill whistling of ocean winds breaking against land. Her back arching, Kel clawed at the blankets; fighting to get free, fighting to...
The screaming ended and with it went the pain. Kel breathed, then looked up.
"You came," she said inanely.
The griffin looked back.
***
It couldn't have lasted forever, and yet Kel was surprised when she came back to find her rooms besieged by Alanna and Raoul and their retinues. But she steeled her heart and denied everything; putting all her hope in those blue eyes that had lead her to that moment.
One stack of papers, carefully hidden. One pair of eyes, wide and betrayed. A friend staring in disbelief, a lack of protesting. Kel relaxed and met Raoul's eyes, refusing to give anything away.
Alanna was the one to lead her away, grip beyond bruising and the noise of the ranks of guards surrounding them almost deafening. Kel bowed her head and followed; didn't resist when Alanna shoved her into a cell, didn't say a word when they stood outside screaming at her.
A calm lake; swans browsing the surface.
***
Kel got to her feet, leaning heavily against the tree as her head spun. The griffin made an inquiring sound, the high trilling sending waves of pain into her skull. "Please don't," she said, almost begging as she slowly worked her way towards the griffin. He moved towards her, bowing his head. Kel nodded her thanks, then pushed off the tree and fell heavily into the griffin's solid body; her hands sliding over warm feathers and sharp edges before they hit worn leather and cold metal.
"They mean for me to ride you?" Kel asked the creature incredulously, but the griffin only looked back, eyes almost humanly patient. Kel eyed the harness. "Fine," she told herself, then hefted herself back towards the tree and picked up her weapons bundle.
The griffin lay down while she did so, sharp claws digging into the ground and his tail resting almost lazily over his hind legs as he stretched out. Kel was grateful for it and crawled over this time, edging into the burrow made between the griffin's front legs and rounded stomach. There were fastening leathers there, as expected, and she awkwardly hooked them around the bundle before looking at the straps and chains tangled over the griffin's back.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked, and this time the griffin wasn't quiet, trilling loudly enough that Kel clapped her hands over her ears. He hadn't been this loud last time she met him. "I get it!" Kel shouted at it. If the griffin could have smirked, he would have. Kel ignored it and attached herself to the griffin's back as well as she could. When she was done, she nudged the griffin in the side with her foot. "You can go now."
The griffin spread his wings.
***
Marren was down in the city, Kel having allowed him half a day free from work. She expected him back in a few hours, carrying gifts and food from his family, but in the meantime, Kel took the rare opportunity to relax and forget everything that tugged on her mind. It was rare that she had the time to spend with her Yamani friends. The basket with feathers given to her long ago was beginning to empty, but the arrows made with the gift would still last for a long time.
"It's the last feather," Kel commented to Shinko, carefully gluing the bright gold piece to the arrow shaft.
Shinko tilted her head. "There has been grave need for them," she said, fingers never stilling their stitching. "Roald indicated that it's due to your feathers the guild didn't lose everything."
Kel's fingers stilled for a breath, the metal-finished feathers sharp against her roughened skin. "But they didn't lose," she said to herself. "Not as much as they should have."
***
The first thing that became very, very evident was that Kel really disliked flying. Clinging to the harness, her stomach roiled, and every time the griffin's wings made another swoop, Kel thought her heart would fall out of her throat. The water stretched out in every direction around them without an interruption and sometimes, Kel wasn't sure whether she was looking at the sky or sea. She closed her eyes, leaning against the warmth, ignoring the sharpness of metallic feathers. The port, the King had said, we will wait for you there. And... He had hesitated then. Should something happen. The tattoo still works. As if summoned by her thoughts, the intense pain in her back flared up again and Kel stifled a moan. Home, her heart begged. The guild, her mind said. Then: Home.
***
Kel wasn't the one who had chosen Marren as her squire but she never had to regret it. He was hard-working, intelligent enough and utterly fascinated by Yamani culture. Kel knew he would someday become an ambassador to the Islands should he make it through the trials. He was sleeping now, blankets pulled up to his nose and and his hand tucked under his pillow. The sheets of paper rested haphazardly on the edge of his desk, the red stamps on the bottom coming across as black in the weak light. Marren wasn't a mage, Kel thought. There was no way he could know. She wouldn't have, if not for...
Marren moaned in his sleep, eyes fluttering and Kel nearly jumped, her heart thumping. The cap on her head slipped a little and she absently pushed it into place, then walked over to the desk and thumbed through the papers. The text slid in front of her eyes, the letters flashing, changing every now and then. Those papers, Kel pocketed; the others, she let lie.
Kel returned to her room and fell to her knees by the open fire. The loose flagstone--a tiny bit smaller than the others--was easy to move and the folded papers fit perfectly in the hollow beneath it. She returned the stone, but before getting up, she rested her hand briefly on the stone and breathed, her mind like the still surface of a lake beneath the moon. Four months, and the missives contained far too few names. She still had to wait. Kel got to her feet and went to bed. There would be time enough later.
***
Kel didn't wake again until the griffin hit the earth, thumping down hard enough to rattle her very bones. Opening her eyes to mere slits, Kel tried to figure out where they were, but could see nothing. It was dark.
The griffin trilled sharply at her and Kel's ears ached as she struggled to unbuckle herself and slide to the ground. She rested where she fell, too exhausted, too sore to move any further. Every wound, every bruise seemed to have combined into a stiffness worse than during page training, and if Kel didn't concentrate, she found it hard to breathe.
Looking up, she found the griffin staring at her, golden eyes somehow managing to convey some sort of worry. "I'm not your hatchling," Kel croaked out at it, the memory of sharp claws in her flesh and shrieks that could deafen a human still fresh in her mind.
The griffin butted her with his head, then took flight again. Kel drifted off.
***
Straight back, feet together, hands clasped, chin slightly down. Kel waited, sensing the presence behind her and knowing it would accomplish nothing to acknowledge it.
Why would you come to us? Because I need the power to protect those I love. Why would you betray him? I can't stand back and just watch this happen. Why would you not betray us? Because I'm yours, because you care, because with you I can do what I need to.
"Keladry of Mindelan," the voice said behind her, softly, carefully. "We will have great use for you."
Kel turned around and saw double; no, saw two identical men, one clad in merchant's clothes, the other in sailor's garb. One looked bothered, the other cold. She bowed. "As will I of you."
The merchant laughed, fingers flickering as he summoned the servants. "Of course you will."
The sailor walked out of the room, the tail of flaxen hair swinging over his hips, hiding the shadow of a tattoo under the worn fabric of his tunic. His movements were angry.
"Say," the merchant said with a slight smile as he poured her a goblet of wine. "I've heard you have a squire with family in the city...?"
***
In Kel's dreams, she still hurt. She remembered opening the door to the guild, she remembered provoking the fight that let the King act, she remembered taking the guild master's place. And she remembered betraying all those who depended on her for the greater good, even if no one but the King and Numair knew. Then she didn't hurt anymore and she woke up.
"Keladry," the voice was quiet and when Kel carefully opened her eyes, expecting the pain to return, she found Numair leaning over her. Seeing that she was awake, he nudged a water skin to her lips and let her drink before sitting back on his heels. "Daine healed you," Numair said tensely and Kel found herself able to listen. "What happened? You didn't show up at the port."
Kel smiled oddly, something roiling inside her. "Mercy," she said dryly. "The captain chose an unfortunate time to remember old friendships."
Numair's lips quirked, but he let the subject go. "If you feel up to it, we can return to Tortall with the tides."
"It's over then?" Kel said, carefully easing herself upright. It still didn't hurt; Daine must have healed everything. "Everyone knows."
Numair snorted, looking ruefully at her. "Knows, and are righteously infuriated," he said dryly. "I believe the Lioness and your friend Neal are but a smidgen away from outright rebellion. Raoul, I won't even mention."
Kel raised an eyebrow and drew herself together, her posture coming back naturally as she no longer hurt. "One would think they would understand the need for secrecy, with Alanna's father being who he is."
"They're still not pleased," Numair told her. "They believe more people should have been involved, more fail-safes in place."
"We had a fail-safe," Kel pointed out. "You."
There was a noise behind her and Kel snapped around just in time to catch Daine step out from the bushes, an uneven smile on her face. "Don't say things like that," Daine admonished. "You'll only give him a swollen head."
Kel shook her head and slid one hand under the back of her tunic, fingering the black-stained skin of her back. "In this case, he deserves it."
***
"Most of the guild was destroyed during the rioting," Kel said quietly, stepping softly with steel-studded feet. "Raoul estimates that only a fifth of them survived the fires." She hesitated only barely. "My estimation says it's closer to a third."
"The guild master is a mage," King Jonathan agreed as they walked down the corridor. "If we do this, we don't leave anything magical; he would find it and realize what we are doing." He looked at her, eyes an odd kind of hesitant. "It isn't likely they will inspect you close enough to find a tattoo."
Kel bit her lip, then hastily released it and focused; a thread through a needle, a crane dancing across still waters. "It will be enough," she said and to her surprise she sounded sure. "I trust Numair."
The King's lips twitched. "Don't we all," he said softly.
He looked sideways at her. "Are you prepared for the next step?"
"Would anyone be?" Kel asked rethorically, then nodded. "As much as I can be." She stared at the floor. "I only hope they can forgive me."
***
The ship that took them back to Tortall from the tiny island where the griffin had brought them arrived after one day's sailing. Kel spent that time meditating, trying to settle things in her mind and remember that people knew, that the secrecy was over. When Daine knocked at her door, saying that they had arrived, Kel was ready; dressed in clean clothes and light leather armor with a sword by her side. She would not look like a victim.
The hour was late when Kel stepped out on the deck, the stars bright above. A torchlit company waited below the ship for them; Numair already having joined them, talking to someone with copper hair glinting in the torchlight: Alanna. The others were staring intently at the ship, and even as Kel looked back, she caught the eye of the King. He nodded at her, a small smile tugging at his lips, and Kel didn't hesitate as she walked off the ship.
"Welcome home, Keladry," the King greeted her, bowing his head slightly. "I'm glad you have arrived safely from your misadventures."
"So am I," Kel said dryly, then turned towards the shadow behind the King, whom not even the darkness could prevent from signalling menace from. "Raoul," she said cautiously.
"Kel," Raoul said tightly; then he turned and walked away.
Kel sighed, then turned towards Neal and Alanna instead, who looked just as put out. But differently from Raoul, they didn't seem as put out with her as they did with the King. Neal was the first to approach her, and as his arms closed around her in a hearty hug, Kel couldn't help but feel she was finally home.
***
Port Caynn was quite an ugly town, Kel thought as she heaved herself through the window of her room, kicking off of the wall of the building next door. It did have plenty of small alleys and climbing spaces though, which made it easy to travel circumspectly. When inside, she poked her head out, glancing up the street from where she had come, then closed the window. The rioting quarters of the town were not far from their inn; if she had done her work right, the guild...
Someone banged on the door, interrupting Kel's thoughts and she took a deep breath, then walked over to open.
"It's turning into a bloodbath," Raoul said roughly as soon as Kel opened the door to her inn room. His armor was nicked and unpolished, his face rough with beard-growth. She could hear screaming down from the other end of the corridors and suddenly Kel realized his sword was wet with blood.
"As the King expected," Kel said quietly, then turned to grab her own glaive, grateful Raoul couldn't see as she bit her lip and held her breath against the burning in her lungs.
***
The moment Kel got off her horse she was hit by the solid weight of her squire, hugging her tightly and not particularly interested in letting go.
"Marren," Kel said hesitatingly, as he didn't say anything, but merely held her tightly and hid his face against his shoulder. She could feel the warmth of his breath, of his tears against her skin. Kel smoothed her hand down his back. "It's all right."
"It's not all right," Marren retorted, voice muffled by her tunic. "You almost got killed because of me!"
Kel looked helplessly down at him. "Marren," she said, handing her reigns to Neal as he came over so she could wrap her arms around him. "It's not your fault. You didn't know, I was the one to make sure of that."
Marren pulled back slightly, looking up at her. "Maybe," he said quietly, "but I still feel guilty."
Kel shook her head, smiling a little. "I made a choice," she told him. "And I wanted to protect you."
He looked down then, but Kel had caught the slightly smile on his lips before his face fell into shadow. "I'll go prepare your room," Marren said abruptly, disappearing before Kel had the chance to say anything more.
"He took it hard," a voice came from behind her, and Kel turned around, recognizing well the voice of her mentor and friend. Raoul stepped out from the shadows around the stables, something dark still on his face. "As did we all."
"I'm sorry," Kel said, not knowing quite if she was apologizing for the need for secrecy or for what she had put her friends and family through.
Raoul shook his head. "It's fine," he said. "I'm mostly not angry with you anyway."
"Don't blame the King either," Kel said, shaking her head. "What was done was needful."
"Maybe so," Raoul said, "but there were points where everything nearly went bad. If..."
"No," Kel said sharply. "What's done is done. Don't dwell on it."
Raoul grimaced, but his shoulders relaxed slightly. "Fine." He hesitated a little, then wrapped his arm around her in a short embrace. "Welcome home."
Kel nodded. "I'm glad to be home." She stretched a little, still feeling slightly odd from suddenly being fine when a day ago she had not been. "Let's go meet with the others. I want to know how everything went while I was gone."
Raoul fell in easily beside her, his walk empty of the angry stride that had still been in it as he left the ship. "That will be a long tale," he told Kel dryly.
"That's the best ones," Kel said promptly, then held up the door for him. Raoul passed her by, and before Kel followed him, she turned to look out over the torchlit alleys and streets stretching out before her. The last time she'd been here, she'd been working on the King's order to upset the guild; now, she was on her own. There was no doubt which she preferred. With a quirk of a smile, Kel turned around and went inside.
***
"The guild is growing more powerful each day," King Jonathan said, hands sliding over the map spread over the table. "Their fingers stretch into every money pouch south of Scanra and my spies indicate that they might even have gone into the slave trade. I cannot let this pass unfettered."
Kel shifted, leaning a bit more heavily against the wall. "You don't have sovereignty over them," she said, easing her shoulder back and stretching her legs a little; slumping as she found her balance. "If you move in on them, there will be a diplomatic fallout."
"Yes," the King agreed, looking at her with those blue, blue eyes that never faded in strength even as his body did. Twelve years, two wars. "But there's another way. The riots in Caynn -- we could use them. One more unfortunate fire would go unnoticed."
If she hadn't seen; if she hadn't known what the guild's manipulating did to the country, Kel would have balked. But with the spymaster's missives about child slave trade and high officials looking the other way... She leaned forwards. "There's no guarantee all of the higher leaders will be caught by the fire," Kel said levely. "The Yamani emperor had a way to do things like this: burn them out, infiltrate, sell them out." Behead the traitors and their families, from the oldest to the youngest. But this was Tortall, and that was not their way.
King Jonathan looked thoughtful. "Then that's the way we will do it. I'll get Numair to put a sealing tattoo on you so we know where you are." He shook his head, something anguished in his eyes for a second. Then he pulled himself together, eyes narrowed as he stared down at the map. "I'll send you down to Raoul to help contain the riots."
Their eyes met, and there was a heavy weight in Kel's stomach as she replied. "Yes, your majesty."