Shadow Hunted Page 11
“Are you going to whine the whole time?” Noah said. “What are you here for anyway?”
“Maybe I’m here to keep you from getting your thick head split open,” Strout growled.
“Knock it off, you two,” Lukas said. Though he hadn’t been their corporal for that long, he’d grown into the role, and his voice had enough authority in it that the two soldiers stopped. Lukas looked around the table. “We need to stay focused on what’s important here. Fen is the only one with a chance of stopping them. That means they’re going to try hard to find him. They’ll try hard to find Ravin too.”
“Which means we need to find a safe place for her,” Cowley said. “Someplace they’ll never look.”
Then Wallice, the older of the two brothers, spoke up, surprising them all. “Shantytown.” He looked at his brother, who nodded.
“I thought Shantytown burned,” Lukas said.
“It has burned many times,” Wallice said.
“I don’t know,” Cowley said. “No offense, I know that’s where you two are from and all, but isn’t it really dangerous there? It might be worse than turning her over to Lowellin.”
Once again Wallice looked at his brother. The two shared some unspoken information, then Wallice looked at Cowley. “We know someone. He can be trusted.”
“What happens when the army looks there?” Lukas asked.
“No one ever searches Shantytown,” Wallice said. “Those who are there are dead.”
Ravin knew what he meant by that. Shantytown was for the lowest of the low. The meanest beggar on the streets of Samkara looked down on the residents of Shantytown. It was the place where people went to die, a place for the diseased of Samkara, both in body and mind. A chill went through her at the thought of going there.
“Are you sure it will be safe?” she asked Wallice.
“Nowhere is safe,” he replied. His face was like stone. “It is as safe as you will get now.”
“There’s gotta be someplace else,” Noah said.
“There isn’t,” Cowley said. “They’re going to search this city top to bottom. We have to get her out.” He looked at the brothers. “You better know what you’re doing.” They looked at him impassively. He turned to Ravin. “You should go.”
“Right now?” Ravin asked.
Cowley nodded. “The sooner the better. Before they start questioning everyone who leaves the city.”
“Thank you all so much.” Ravin felt tears in her eyes. “I wouldn’t have made it out of the castle without your help.”
“Aw, it was nothing,” Noah said. “You’re Fen’s girl. We can’t let nothing bad happen to you. He’d kill us.”
“Did anyone ever tell you that you have quite the way with words?” Cowley asked Noah.
“What? You think so?”
“No, I don’t.”
Noah punched him in the arm. Cowley stood and helped Ravin to her feet. “Go out the back way.” He gave her a quick hug. “Don’t worry. We’ll find Fen and keep him safe.”
Ravin followed the two brothers out the back gate and into a narrow, dingy alleyway. The brothers must have decided that speed was more important than stealth—how, she didn’t know, for neither spoke to the other—for they led her out onto the main boulevard that led straight to the front gates.
The boulevard was much emptier than it normally would have been at this time of morning. On any other day it would be thronged with people hurrying to their jobs, carrying food, hauling carts filled with wares to the market. Instead the street was mostly empty, and those who were on it kept their eyes down and faces turned away. There was still smoke in the air from the night before, and the promise of more to come.
They weren’t the only ones looking to get out of Samkara. A steady stream of people was passing through the gates. The guards were standing back, making no effort to check anyone or slow the flow. It looked like they’d made it down here in time.
With the brothers flanking her, they passed through the gates and shortly thereafter left the road, taking the foot path that led to Shantytown. Ravin glanced back over her shoulder at the city. It felt unreal, being out here. She’d only left the city a handful of times in her life. It was the only home she’d ever known. Would she ever be able to go back?
She faced forward once again. There was no way to know what the future held. She needed to focus on today, on surviving it. She would tackle tomorrow when it came. The trail led up over a small rise and below in the distance she got her first glimpse of Shantytown, a welter of garbage and crude shelters. The sight of the place sent a chill through her. She’d never dreamed that she’d set foot in the place someday. Shantytown was the place children used to frighten each other, the place a little girl would end up in if she was bad.
Despite the brothers’ assurances that there was someone here who would protect her, she was frightened. How could they possibly be sure she would be safe there? There was no law in Shantytown; it was pure anarchy. She’d heard that people killed each other over a cup of clean water there.
She told herself firmly that Fen trusted these two young men, and if he did, then so would she. She’d known something like this could happen ever since Fen told her about his powers, and yet she’d chosen to stay with him anyway. Now that time had come, and she was determined to be brave and endure whatever must be endured. Even if terrible things happened to her here—and she shuddered at what those might be—even if she were killed, it would be better than being used to harm Fen. She would never allow that to happen again. If not for her, Fen would never have gotten the key piece for Lowellin. He would have let himself be killed first. She would show him that she could make the same sacrifice.
Fen was alive. He was out there somewhere, and the Wolfpack would find him. She had to hold fast to that. Was it really only a day ago that she’d sat crying in her room, waiting for the terrible news that he’d been executed? Yet somehow, miraculously, he’d survived. That had to mean something. It had to mean they would be together again someday. All she had to do was survive until then.
Trash littered the ground around Shantytown, scraps of rags, gnawed-on bones, dead dogs, excrement. The smell was bad, and with each step forward it got worse. Ravin tried not to breathe through her nose, but that didn’t really make things better as then she felt she could taste it instead.
They came up on the first shelters, built from scraps of wood, cloth, broken bricks, stacked rocks. Any materials that were deemed too broken or too useless by the people of Samkara ended up here. It looked like most of the huts would collapse in the first gust of wind. Most were no more than waist-high, a place to crawl into and nothing more.
There were no streets, only narrow paths that wound through the huts and around the larger piles of garbage. The buzzing of flies was like the sound of a storm in the distance. The ground underfoot squelched with each step. Ravin tried not to think about what she was stepping in, tried not to look too closely at anything.
A toothless old man emerged from one of the hovels that was no more than a lean-to made of a couple of warped boards leaning against a low wall of stacked rocks. He leered at her and beckoned her with long, skinny fingers. Eben hissed at him, and when the old man looked up and saw who was escorting her, he scuttled backwards into his home like some demented crab.
An old woman with milky eyes and only one leg was sitting in front of a pile of scraps and brush that only vaguely resembled a shelter. She turned her face up as they approached and gave them a gnarled smile.
“It’s the brothers or I’m the queen of Marad,” she said. Most of her nose was gone, eaten away by some nameless disease, and air whistled through the ruins of it as she spoke. “But who else is with them? Who?”
Wallice brushed past her without speaking. Ravin recoiled as the old woman caught hold of the hem of her dress.
“She smells like bread and perfume, she does,” she cackled. In the next moment Eben rapped his knuckles on the back of her hand, and she squealed and let go
of Ravin’s dress. “You always were a rotter, Eben,” she said. “That hasn’t changed.”
A man passed them going the other way. He had two chickens on a string and was carrying a rough club. He glared at Ravin as if expecting her to try and steal his chickens. Up close, she saw that his other arm was withered and bent at a strange angle. Two of the fingers on that hand were missing. He saw her looking at his withered arm and waved it at her.
“Torture does wonders for a man. Breaks him down and makes him something new. Don’t you think?”
Ravin turned her face away without replying.
“Too good for the likes of me, then?” he called after her and laughed, a dry, rasping sound.
They came to a hut that was like a palace compared to the rest of them. Some posts had been driven into the ground at the corners and rough boards nailed between them for walls that were mostly solid. The roof was a piece of badly-rusted metal, and the door had a single hinge holding it in place.
Wallice stepped up to the door and rapped on it twice. Eben turned, scanning the area, his hand on his sword. Ravin saw that word of their coming had already spread for several people had gathered and were staring at them, their faces showing everything from simple curiosity to naked hostility. Ravin shivered and moved closer to Wallice. She felt like a kitten among wolves. Almost she told them that she’d changed her mind. There was no way she was staying here. They would have to take her somewhere else.
The door creaked open, and a man emerged. He was huge, easily one of the largest men Ravin had ever seen. He had wild, bushy, brown hair and a beard and mustache to match. One of his eyes was missing, a ruined patch of scar tissue in its place. His hands were the size of hams, his shoulders the width of an axe handle. He crossed his arms and looked down at the brothers. He never even glanced at Ravin.
“We need you to keep her safe,” Wallice said.
Only then did the monster of a man swivel to Ravin and look her up and down. She held her breath. He looked like he was trying to decide if she would be good to eat. Then his huge head turned to Wallice. There was a question in his one good eye.
In a low voice Wallice said, “They’re looking for her.”
The shaggy giant nodded. He held the door open and motioned her inside. Ravin hesitated, turning to Wallice.
“It’s okay,” Wallice said. “We’re alive because of Argid. You can trust him.” He patted her arm awkwardly. Obviously comforting people was not something he had much practice with.
Ravin took a deep breath, set her shoulders, and walked into the giant’s home. She turned and looked back once she was inside. Wallice was handing Argid some coins.
“Make sure she has clean food and good water,” he said. “I’ll bring more later.” Argid took the money and rumbled something that Ravin couldn’t make out. “I’ll come back tomorrow,” Wallice said to Ravin. “Don’t leave the house without Argid.”
That was something Ravin definitely didn’t need to be told. The others who had gathered to watch were staring at her like starving dogs eying a scrap of meat.
Wallice and Eben turned to face them. Both put their hands on the hilts of their swords. “No one touches her,” Wallice said in a loud voice. “Anyone does, we cut him to pieces. You know we mean it.” He and his brother stared at the onlookers, who shifted uneasily for a bit, then began shuffling away.
Wallice turned back, gave Ravin a small wave, and then they left, and Ravin was alone in Shantytown.
Chapter 9
After Ravin and the brothers left the restaurant, Gage looked at Cowley. “What about us? Do you think Lowellin will come after us?”
“He might,” Cowley admitted, “but I don’t think so. Why would we know where Fen is? We’re just loyal soldiers.”
“That doesn’t mean he won’t have us arrested and tortured,” Strout said.
“Yeah, maybe we should cut out now, go to ground,” Noah said. “I know some places.”
“You can run if you want,” Cowley said, “but I’m going back to the castle.”
“Why?” Strout asked.
“For one, we don’t know where Fen is. If he’s lying low, and we’re lying low, it could take a long time to find him. If we stay out in the open, he’ll find us easy enough.” He finished his ale and set his mug down. “For another, I want to know more about these Devourers and about Lowellin. If we’re going to defeat them, we need to learn their strengths and their weaknesses. That’s a lot easier to do if we’re on the inside.”
They all thought about it for a bit. Strout spoke first. “Fair enough. I’ll stay.”
Noah stuck his chin out. “I’m not scared.”
“Again, proving your stupidity,” Strout said, but he clapped the smaller man on the shoulder as he did so. It was the closest he got to showing approval.
“I’m scared,” Lukas admitted. The soft, chubby merchant’s son had been replaced by a seasoned fighter, but he was not a natural soldier. Unlike Noah, who seemed to be able to find a fight nearly everywhere he went, Lukas was the sort to try and figure things out, to only reach for his sword when there was no other way. “But I’ll stay too. For Fen and Samkara.”
“Wolfpack squad,” Noah said, banging forearms with Gage and Lukas and Cowley. They looked at Strout, who reluctantly joined them.
“You know I think this is dumb, right?” Strout said.
“You said so about a hundred times,” Noah said. “But say it again. Maybe we forgot.”
“If we’re not running, then we need to get back. We don’t need anyone noticing that we’re missing.” Cowley stood up and put a coin on the table for the ale. “If we have to run, don’t come here. We might have been seen. Meet at the secondary place.”
He didn’t need to give details. All of them knew where he meant. They’d been planning for this ever since Fen was arrested, and they’d picked out a half dozen places around the city where they could meet up quietly. In addition, they had two stashes of weapons, each with a handful of coins and some food. There was also a stable outside the city where they could lay their hands on horses at any time of the day or night if they had to run.
“We’re ready for this,” Cowley said. “We can do this.”
“I’m not letting those Devourers take my city without a fight,” Noah said grimly.
They left the restaurant and headed straight for the castle. One of the guards at the gate looked at them strangely. “Didn’t you come through here a little while ago…?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Cowley replied. “We’re just getting back.”
“Another fun night of putting out fires and breaking up mobs,” Noah said. “Something you wouldn’t know anything about, with your soft job hiding behind the gates.”
The guard glared at them and waved them through.
“Did you have to antagonize him?” Cowley asked Noah.
“I hate that guy. I always antaga—antagonize him,” Noah replied, stumbling over the unfamiliar word. “If I didn’t do it this time, he’d get suspicious.”
“Why someone hasn’t suffocated you in your sleep, I don’t know,” Strout said.
“What’s going on over there?” Gage asked. A number of officers were leaving the palace.
“It looks like all the officers were called in to a meeting with our new king,” Cowley said. “Lowellin’s not wasting any time.”
“That’s not all of them,” Strout said. “I don’t see General Lukin, for one.” General Lukin was a tall man with long, white hair. He was a difficult man to miss.
It was Lukas who figured it out first. “I think Lowellin called all the officers in and gave them a choice. Bend the knee or die.”
Strout swore. “Lukin was a good man, even for an officer.”
“We’re going to be given the same choice,” Lukas said. “All of us soldiers.”
“I won’t do it,” Noah said sullenly. “I won’t kneel to that bastard.”
“Yes, you will,” Lukas said firmly. “W
e made the decision together, and we’re sticking with it. We’re going to play along. We’re going to keep our eyes and ears open and wait for our chances.” He looked around at them all. “Understood?”
“Look at you, being a corporal and all,” Strout said, then added, “I’m in.” One by one the rest nodded, even Noah, though he didn’t look happy about it.
“I’d rather fight,” he said under his breath.
“But you won’t, right?” Lukas pressed him. “Not yet?”
“Not yet,” Noah said grudgingly.
They made their way back to the barracks, and then headed over to the mess hall. Outside the mess hall, Sergeant Flint caught up to them.
“We’re mustering out front of the palace.”
“Right now?” Noah complained. “Can’t we get some breakfast first?”
Flint ignored him. “You’ve heard, I guess,” he said. “About the Fist.”
“We heard,” Cowley said. “What do you think about it, Flint?”
“I think if you’re smart, you’ll keep your mouth shut and go along. For now, anyway.”
“And later?” Cowley asked.
Flint looked at them all in turn. “When later comes, I’ll be ready.”
“You’re not really going to bend the knee to Lowellin, are you?” Noah asked.
“I will, and you will too, if you know what’s best for you,” Flint answered grimly.
“But you taught us—”
“I taught you to use your heads.” Flint looked around, making sure no one was listening. “You boys know me. You know where my loyalties lie. But there will be a lot of soldiers who will flip, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “You have to be careful who you trust. Remember what I taught you. Pick your time. When it comes, don’t just run in swinging your swords. Use your heads. Outthink your enemy.”
“Will do, sergeant,” Lukas said.
“Now get going. I’ll see you over there.”
The squad headed for the palace. Many of the soldiers had already gathered. On the front steps of the palace stood a cluster of officers. Cowley saw no high-ranking officers among them, no one above major. Had that many officers refused to swear fealty to Lowellin? It was possible. They were all the Fist’s handpicked men, after all. Another, more chilling possibility occurred to him. Maybe Lowellin had put them all to death. It made sense. In one fell swoop he could wipe out any who might try to lead a rebellion against him.