Chapter 14

Silent War

For the second time that night, Cyne felt like she was drowning; fear clawed its way up her throat, choking her as the crowd buzzed with exclamations of protest and surprise. Merle pinched her friend.

"Wipe that wimpy stare off your face," she hissed, voice steely. There was no pity in it, though Cyne knew her friend was as stunned as she was. But Merle knew what her princess needed, and it was not sympathy. She straightened, only just managing to keep her face composed. But her mind ran with panic; why was Damek here? Wasn't he supposed to stay behind?

He must have come with Rikash and Han.

Why hadn't they told her? Her gaze flickered over to where the pair had stood, but neither noticed; Han was nudging Rikash away from them. With a jaw-clenching effort, the Kyprian stopped herself from going after them.

"I confess that I am thunderstruck at this lowbrow trickery at such a peace conference," Roger declared; Cyne might have believed his honest face if she had not known better.

"He's a raka!" a voice cried out, and suddenly over a hundred eyes were fixed on her. Numb, she turned her head slowly, surveying the room before her. She thanked the Gods that she had never had a readable face.

"Which is precisely why I doubt that Her Highness Cyne Hetnim has much to do with the incident," the Chancellor interjected smoothly, and Cyne's insides twisted. "It is my guess, Your Highness," he added, bowing from his high pedestal. "-that he was chosen for his appearance, to foster distrust and suspicion and alienate your esteemed people from this alliance." Unable to respond, Cyne inclined her head. "I will not trouble you with this further. But be assured that I will speak to him personally." The smile he gave the assembly made Cyne's head spin. "And he will tell me the one who sent him."

"Stay right where you are," hissed Merle in her ear.

"I can't," Cyne whispered; tears were gathering in her eyes. What could they do? Damek was a spy, according to the Chancellor- he would be tortured and killed- how could they get him out? Could she- she had to-

"You must," her red-haired friend snapped.

"Do it for your aunt," Brand muttered. Cyne's teeth clenched together until she thought her jaw would snap. "Do it for the Isles."

She cursed both of them; they knew what they had to say to keep her there. All she wanted to do was run after those guards and-

How long did Damek have before they started to flog him? Before they threw him to the ground and brought out the knives?

How long could he hold up? She closed her eyes. They would do it immediately. Tonight, while she was forced to stay here, under the scrutinizing gaze of the delegations and diplomats. Her every motion would be watched….

She scanned the sea of people before her, but she recognized no one; not a person approached her. With an effort that nearly brought her to her knees, she sighed, then pulled out a bright smile from the depths of her willpower.

"I'm relieved that that was sorted out," she said in a carrying but relaxed, causal voice and laughed softly. Then she wandered over to the refreshments and selected a rather large glass.

"Alan!" Deryne gave him a smile, and he returned it, but they locked worried eyes. He leaned towards her to mutter in her ear.

"Han is sending a message to Numair now, in those gardens." Deryne turned pale.

"They can't do that!" she hissed. "Rog- the Chancellor will-"

"Han and Rikash will be fine; he can't eavesdrop. And he wouldn't dare to approach them both now, when they are on alert." Deryne shook her head; with Tezock nearby, she had an unpleasant suspicion the playing field would be significantly evened out. "Especially with you and Cyne so close." Deryne scowled sourly.

"I doubt he's afraid of us." Alan snorted.

"He'll taunt you as much as he wants, but he can't go after any of you with any real zeal. He knows what you're capable of. He doesn't want a fight out in the open, not here." Deryne's eyes fell. "But that isn't the point." He hesitated. "I wonder if you know what's about to happen." She shook her head, and Alan cast a cursory glance around them. "Tortall is about to be compromised. Greatly," he hissed before straightening to smile at a passing courtier. Once the man walked on, he continued. "About an hour ago, an urgent message came for the Chancellor. From the north. He's sending Tezock back to his island, to mass troops. Never mind how I found out," he added hastily when Deryne opened her mouth. "A combination of insiders and magic weaved this picture together. He's planning to make an example of one of the countries here, squire; it's been his plan since he instated himself here." His grim eyes gleamed. "And I'm betting you can guess which one he's selected for the job." A chill raced down Deryne's back. "He never meant for peace with Tortall; he declared war the day he summoned us."

"Gods help us," she whispered, making the Sign. Alan scoffed.

"The gods have been a little too quiet lately. But they've given us mortals the time and power to stop this horror from unfolding." He put a hand on her shoulder. "Deryne, a few minutes ago, I received a message from Corus, one that calls us both back this instant." Confused, she looked into his intent gaze. She was leaving? When he had just hinted the four of them held Roger in check? His grip on her shoulder tightened. "Harailt can only hold this spell for a few more moments," he mumbled, and Deryne jerked her head up- only a few feet away, Harailt stood, sweat dripping down his face. His hands were glowing with his Gift. "A scrambler- no one can hear us." Deryne stared.

"He can't work that kind of magic!" she exclaimed with astonishment. "That's a tremendous working! How-"

"Numair gave him a stone to help," Alan muttered. "He feared something like this would happen, but that isn't important, Deryne. What is-" They locked eyes again. "-is that I am returning to Corus… and everyone is going to think that you went with me." She stared.

"What?"

"We're leaving you with a free hand, Deryne; you, Han, Rikash, and Cyne."

"Cyne?" Deryne's mind was reeling; everything was happening too fast.

"Your orders are to find that island- follow Tezock. Free Damek. But you won't be under Crown protection; officially, Tortall has no idea what is going on. Neither do the Isles." Alan glanced over at Harailt again; the man looked pale. "So no more games with Roger; he'll know you aren't with me, of course, with all his spies- and he will know that Cyne isn't really indisposed in her rooms, but he will play along, because all he really wants is the four of you on your own. Once you're officially gone, the real battle can begin." Deryne shook her head. "And this will distract him from Tortall, buy us time as he chases after you- you must learn what you can of Tezock and his kind; it might be our only chance of stopping Roger."

"When did you plan all of this?" she breathed. Her knight master gave her a razor-sharp smile.

"Before we left, Uncle Numair outlined a series of possible disasters; Damek getting caught was one of them." He paused. "He had always planned for you two girls to join Ri and Han; once we learned of Tezock, he decided you four would follow him when he left Frasluk." He smiled grimly. "Everything's just happening a little bit quicker than expected, is all."

"But won't folk wonder if you leave without me?" she asked. Alan cast a worried glance at Harailt, who held up a hand.

"Five minutes," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I have a simulacrum Deryne. Speaking of which-" Taking something out of his drawstring, he pressed it into her hand. "-for Merle. A simulacrum of Cyne. She knows how to use it." Deryne's eyes widened.

"Were you planning on telling me anything?" she demanded. A small smile crossed the man's face.

"I am now-" He swore. "Roger's crony is coming this way-" Deryne spun around to see Reuthsak striding towards Harailt. "-they must have identified the spell-" He grabbed Deryne. "Good luck, Queenscove," he hissed. "We're parting ways a little earlier than I thought we would." Deryne was horrified when she felt her eyes water.

"I'll be coming back," she murmured. Alan grinned.

"Never said you weren't," he retorted in a whisper. "Leave now, tell someone you have to pack." He paused, eyes boring into hers.

"I can't do this," she hissed, panicked. "The four of us- who- we can't stop Tezock-" Alan's grip on her shoulder tightened; his gaze grew even more intense.

"Do not be afraid. The future of this world might rest on your shoulders, but the gods light your way, my friend." His voice sounded odd in her ear; it took her a moment to recognize the tone- he was not addressing his squire. He was relinquishing his superoir status; with that farewell, he made her his equal. He pulled back just as Reuthsak approached Harailt, white with fury.

"How dare you use cloaking magic-" Deryne stepped back into the crowd before the man could turn around and see her. If he did, he might realize a plot was underway. Then she glanced around for her knight master, but Alan was gone. She was on her own.

Cyne tried not to think, but Damek's face kept on rising from her thoughts. His laugh. His smile.

His look of horror. His cry of pain. She shuddered inwardly; her surface calm was driving her mad. She wanted to cry, to beat her fists against a wall. Most of all, she wanted to race through the castle, screaming his name until she found him and freed him.

This is the price we pay, she thought bitterly. Never had she had a dimmer view of diplomacy. Worst of all, she was almost sure that Roger knew who Damek was. Who he was to her. The Chancellor had disappeared, which made her fear he was down with Damek now….

A hand on her shoulder; Cyne glanced up to see Deryne.

"We've got exactly an hour," the squire said in a low voice. The princess felt every muscle in her body tense. Her heart skipped a beat; she should have known there were plans in motion…. She fought a smile as her muscles sagged, weak from the sudden relief.

"What do we do?" she asked, lips barely moving. Deryne nodded her head towards the door. Her voice adopted a formal tone.

"Have you explored the gardens yet, Your Highness. I find them a pleasantly quiet place to sit." Of course; Cyne remembered that one of the Scanran courtiers had mentioned the muffling enchantments that covered the gardens. It seemed odd, that such a paranoid capital would have such a secret place… but on the other hand, it made perfect sense. It was a double-edged sword. Everyone schemed in the gardens… for and against the Scanran king. With her bodyguards behind her, Cyne followed her friend; she was surprised to see Han and Rikash waiting for them outside. She paused, silently protesting their congregation.

Roger would know if they met; surely he was having them watched? What if he guessed something was the matter?

Then, a split second later, she decided it did not matter, not now, when Damek was in peril.

Without a word, the six youths walked into the silence of the gardens.

"I happen to know your lover quite well," Roger said pleasantly. Damek felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. Not wanting to meet the chancellor's gaze, he stared at the chains that held him to the wall. They were spelled. Of course. "She looked rather pale when you were dragged up on the dais- the chains were an excellent touch, if I do say so myself." Damek had not wanted to draw attention to her; he had not spared Cyne even the slightest glance. It seemed that his discipline had meant nothing. Roger knew, anyway. His heart sank, but he was not surprised. "But somehow, I doubt Queen Dovasary had anything to do with this. No- this reeks of Master Numair Salmalin." He paused, running his hand over the sharp, metal instruments on the table. Damek forced the panic down; fear would not stop what would happen next. Blood trickled down his forehead; the guards had already beaten him, and his head throbbed. Still, he watched Roger closely as the man prowled before the torchlight. "Tortall has been a thorn in my side for a very long time." He paused, sighing. "I don't suppose you will willingly open your mouth and tell me what you were doing." He snorted. "Not that I wonder; I know quite well that you were searching for anything that could possibly be of any use to you. Information about Tezock… about me." His smile was horrible. "Well, you learned a little, didn't you? Enough that I feel like your death will be worth more than any little tidbits I can drag from your bleeding, barely breathing carcass." Picturing Cyne, Damek was suddenly grateful he had kept her at an arm's distance. His death would hurt her less…. "A stabbing- right through your heart? Or maybe I'll cut your throat-" Damek could not help a sudden, contrary wave of relief.

A quick death would surely be better than a long, agonizing one… he could thank the Gods for small mercies…. But Roger was not done; he paced, musing.

"But perhaps you know more about the Salmalin boy and his friends than I think. You know a great deal about Hetnim's powers, at least." His eyes gleamed. "Yes, I think you're going to tell me everything you can about her… anything I can use against her." No. Damek closed his eyes as the story of the jaguar goddess came to mind. No, that had to be kept secret. What would Roger do if he knew the extent of Cyne's powers?

Would he fear her?

Or would he only be more determined to defeat her?

Knowing what he did, Damek was not sure how the chancellor could fight Cyne, even if he knew everything about the Kyprian heir, even with the goddess of Chaos on his side… but there was no way he would ever willingly give the man what he wanted. Roger advanced, teeth glistening.

"I supposed this will be longer than I had planned," he drawled. "Trying to be the valiant hero, Damek Farivan?" Hearing his name was as painful as a slap across the face; Damek flinched. Roger probably knew everything about him from the date of his parents' deaths to the last time he had lain eyes on Cyne.

Cyne. He should not be thinking of her, in case there were mind-reading spells, but she was everywhere; she did not know how much his mind dwelled on her, how many times he watched her out of the corner of his eye as she entertained courtier after courtier- he would wait, see as her smile became fixed, although he liked to think that only a select few could tell…. Just as he was certain he was the only one who saw the quick flicker of suppressed disappointment flash across her face when he pulled away, unable to bear the turmoil of emotion that welled up inside him whenever they were close. Fear and love battled for purchase whenever their eyes locked; his magic screamed at him to step away and leave the power of gods untouched, but his heart shattered a little each time he backed away, and a little more when he saw the confusion that she hid so well- she only let her placid expression fall when she was certain he was no longer watching her… but he was. Always. Now he would never see her again....

His teeth gritted together as Roger called for the guards, his sick smile growing as he spoke to them.

"This might take awhile," he explained with maniacal glee as his eyes traveled back to his prisoner. "But rest assured- I always win in the end."

"And… there he goes," Deryne whispered, wrapping her arms around herself as a freezing gust roared down the dark, empty streets of Hamrkeng as she watched the fluid silhouette of Tezock. Fearing his use of gudruna, she sealed herself off from them; he would not feel her magic on the wind. Still, if he was careful, he would know someone stood watching him leave. She could not mask herself completely, as he could.

There were only five guards at the north gate; although they were alert, it would be too easy to follow the immortal. Still, Roger had probably issued a warning; perhaps he was sending more men as she waited.

They would have to act quickly, but they also had to keep space between themselves and Tezock….

She wondered how and why Numair believed this would work; it was a foolhardy plan, a typical, heroic strategy concocted on the fly as they tried to save everyone….

Not that she would ever want to leave Damek to his fate.

But she would be surprised if they managed to succeed. More than surprised.

Now, she hissed as she lowered her vigilant barriers; she directed the thought whisper through the alleyways and over rooftops, back towards Frasluk, directly in Han's waiting mind. Although it was difficult for him to connect with her magic, he welcomed the gudruna, allowing it to settle and furrow itself into his head. She was grateful the distance between them was no more than half the city; she would not have been able to speak to her friend if they had been any further apart.

Coming, he replied. Deryne sensed him jerk his head; he must have been signaling Rikash. It would be so much easier if he would let her mindspeak with him…. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she gazed up at the cloudy sky; moonlight only just filtered through the grey haze to illuminate the softened edges of the city. Cyne would stay behind to free Damek… Deryne was still not sure how they would reconvene; Scanra was a vast country, and this island appeared to be even further.

She heard the muffled hooves against the cobble streets long before any other mortal nearby could; she gestured, and her magic flowed through the air, stopping any whisper of noise from reaching the guards' ears. Deryne pulled all the sound into her mind, allowing its resonance to consume her. Her head fell back as the wave of beats crashed over her- she let the noise that was not made by her companions to slip away towards the north gate; perfect stillness was as suspicious as a deafening clatter.

When Han and Rikash turned the corner with their two mounts, Deryne cleared her throat, smiling faintly as they both stiffened.

"You can talk," she said, forcing herself to speak loudly; there was something about their surroundings that made her want to whisper despite the spell. Then her eyes narrowed; her friends only had two horses. "Am I sharing with one of you?" They exchanged a look, one that made Deryne feel queasy.

"I'm going to see what we're dealing with," Han said shortly, handing the reins of his horse to Rikash. As the older youth strode past Deryne, he nudged her towards the firemage. She scowled, glaring after him before turning to Rikash.

"You're leaving me behind with Cyne," she guessed, lips turning downwards. She had no complaint staying with her Kyprian friend; in fact, she was relieved. Cyne would need help. But she was irked that they had not bothered to tell her. "I thought we had decided the three of us were tracking Tezock." Rikash shrugged.

"You left to prepare, and we realized the hitch," he stated, running a hand through his hair. "Splitting up like this is better. This way, Merle and Brand don't have to be implicated, and you and Cyne don't have to worry about them if you're discovered." Deryne nodded, ire subsiding unspectacularly to leave her feeling awkward. And worried. If Rikash and Han were caught by Tezock…. Rikash looked over her shoulder, then dropped both sets of reins to grip her hands tightly.

"We didn't say farewell last time," Deryne muttered, her gaze falling to his hands.

"I'm saying it this time," he grumbled, squeezing her fingers tightly. Deryne almost turned her face up to his, but chose to stare out at the bare rock of the city around them. She disliked good-byes in the first place, but tonight, her partings seemed much more grim… even ominously permanent, though she told herself that morbid thought was laughable. She remembered how Alan had disappeared into the crowd, all too quickly…. She prayed to Frejonak she would see him again; she feared what was in store for them.

"What if you lose Tezock without me?" she demanded tartly, trying to smother her qualms. "If your tracking skills are legendary, it's for your notable lack of them." She was surprised to hear him chuckle under his breath. He tugged his hands out of hers, resting them on her shoulders instead. He waited until she turned to meet his gaze before he spoke.

"Then you and Cyne find us and we go after him together," he told her matter-of-factly, his hands falling, sliding down her arms to envelop her hands in his. She clenched his fists in hers.

"But I can't," she pointed out impatiently. "I don't have that sort of connection with Han-"

"Then look for me," Rikash whispered, silencing her. Her eyes widened in surprised. "Find my mind when you're searching; I'll let you in." He took a deep breath. "I swear." Mouth agape, Deryne nodded, questions dancing in the back of her mind. He scowled darkly. "Don't even think of trying it unless you have to."

"Yes, sir," Deryne murmured, and she smiled as he glared, clearly uncertain whether or not she was serious. Then she flung her arms around his neck. She felt him freeze for a moment before he returned the gesture.

"Trust no one," he whispered, his hot breath tickling her neck. "Not even Cyne- especially not her." As an indignant noise of protest escaped Deryne, he continued, "It's her heart, not her head, that's in control right now. You need to be the sensible one." She nearly smiled; since when had he needed to remind her to be responsible? She nodded wordlessly, chin burying into his shoulder. "Watch your back, Queenscove." He released her and stepped back just as Han approached. He too embraced the squire, then took his mount from Rikash.

"Off we go," Han said quietly. "We will see you and Cyne soon." Deryne bit her lip.

"By the Gods, I hope so," she muttered. Rikash snorted.

"If you are thinking that Roger has anyone who can stand up to you with Tezock gone, there's no hope for you," he said bluntly. "For your mental capacities, I mean." A hint of a smile crossed Deryne's face.

"I was more concerned for you two," she admitted quietly. "Don't do anything stupid, please. If you have to let Tezock go to stay safe, do it; I can always find him later." That was a lie; she did not know how she was supposed to find an immortal who gagged her gudruna without a thought. Both youths nodded, staring grimly at the gate.

"I'll do it," Han muttered, and before either of his companions could respond, the cobblestone rumbled, raising a gentle ripple from where the earthmage rested upon his mount. As it passed through Deryne, her bones rattled. As she whipped around to look at the gate, the guards started, eyes wide, before the earth rose like an ocean wave, blocking her view of them. When the ground settled again, there was no sign of them; the street had swallowed them. She bit her lip; it seemed unfair, but this expedition demanded all the tricks they had. The gate's lock popped open, and the metal groaned as the north doors opened; Deryne moved hastily to silence the sound, but she was not quick enough to stop a tiny dart of magic that escaped from the lock, racing past them.

"Warning spell," she muttered. "He knows." Rikash grimaced. Han shrugged.

"So we begin," he said simply. "See you soon, Deryne." With that, he tapped the sides of his horse with his ankles, and he went forwards at a quick trot. Rikash exchanged one last glance with Deryne.

"Good luck," she said quietly. "Frejonak look after you." He snorted.

"I'll look after myself," he retorted. "And you do the same. Got it?" A small smile tugged at her lips.

"I will," she promised as he followed Han. She wanted to watch until her two friends disappeared, but instead pulled away before they had even reached the gate. Roger would be sending men soon; by the time they arrived, she and Cyne would have made their next move.