Juman slipped through the crowd behind Leyla as she went about her daily business. He was feeling deep exertion from following her these several days. His age was showing itself.
Leyla was making her way down one of the narrow side streets. It was common practice for her when she was going somewhere by herself. When she was with scribes and priests, she behaved herself in a manner appropriate for a daughter of the head priestess. But on her own, he knew her to let loose a bit in town. She would play with children and poke fun at everyone she knew.
Ever since Kassim and Adilah had left with the Kamwa, he didn’t see her do that much anymore. Yet, she didn’t drop her guard.
Adilah and Kassim had taught her well. Occasionally, she would make turns and run down streets to lose someone following her. Then, she would quickly sneak away and hide. There were times Juman had to stop and wait for her to reappear because he’d lost her. A part of him wished he had her endless energy again. He knew those days were gone. All he had now was his wealth of wisdom and experience. With it, he conserved his energy. He wasted no effort.
Something caught his eye at the level of the rooftops. When he looked that way, it was gone. His instincts told him to pull away from Leyla. If there was someone following her, they would notice him quicker if he was near her.
His heart beat faster and adrenaline spiked through him. When he was young, he would have grinned at the exhilaration. Now, all he could manage was a grim stoicism.
She walked further away as he waited, staying as still as he could to minimize someone spotting him.
Leyla neared an intersection with a larger road. Again, he spotted something at the corner of his vision. The movement spurred his instinct to react. He sprang forward, not seeing anything and trusting only in himself. He let his knife slip into his hand, and he jabbed into thin air. Something punched him in the gut, a cold point of pain cut into him.
Still he saw nothing. His other hand struck like a snake and gripped a wrist near his belly.
For a split second the pain was too much, and he buckled at the waist. Through hazy eyes, he saw Leyla give a little skip as she left the confines of the narrow alley.
His grip tightened like a vise even as the other man tried to twist away. In that moment, Juman pulled the man close, brushing against him. He could feel him now. He drew all his strength and pulled his knife between two fingers, his palm supporting the handle’s butt, and slammed his fist and blade upward between their bodies.
The blade sliced their chests and struck the other man beneath his chin. It buried itself, and Juman felt the bones of his fingers break as his fist crumpled against the man’s jaw. For a moment the two of them swayed there. He saw the man appear, as if he was coming into focus for the first time. He held the assailant’s eyes in his own. The man feebly clutched at him, then his eyes dimmed. A ringing grew in Juman’s ears as he fell slowly with the man. The buildings and people around him were washed out with light.
A gray sky spotted with patches of blue was the last thing he saw.
***
Hyrestl’s head bounced against his chest to a steady rhythm. He opened his eyes and blinked. He saw his hands holding reins, and he was in a saddle with a horse under him.
He felt a chill run up his spine. He raised his head and looked around. There were fields around him, and Edge was only a quarter mile away. The sky was gray, and the air was chill.
He shook his head. That’s all it had taken. He had lain down for a little nap, and the demon that possessed him had sent him on his way after Rylen again.
A deep loathing caught in his throat. There was a bottled anger within him he couldn’t let loose on anything. Why did he still hope? That was the only thing stopping him from jumping from a cliff’s edge. Why did he still believe he could return to Telam?
Other travelers passed by him or walked to his front or rear. There was almost a constant stream of them between the city and the camps that had sprung up in the harvested fields around Edge.
He neared the city gates, and two guards stepped up in front of him. He stopped.
“You! It is him!”
Before Hyrestl’s fatigued body could react, the guards rushed forward. One wrapped his arm around his leg and fell backward wrestling him from the saddle.
Hyrestl landed hard, and the wind was knocked out of him. Other guards brought his horse under control. His hands were tied behind him, and he was heaved to his feet.
Ah, that’s right! I’m wanted as a runaway servant of a prince.
He didn’t understand why he did what he did next. Perhaps he just hated his life.
He screamed, startling the two men who were escorting him to the guardhouse. He ducked his head, then brought it up under the chin of the one to his left. The impact knocked the man out cold. The other guard pulled back his fist and struck out at Hyrestl. He pivoted and dodged it, then slammed his body into the man, knocking him off-balance. The man stumbled backward and Hyrestl kicked at his knee, breaking it. The guard screamed in pain as the innkeeper ran away.
Something slammed into his side, and his breath was knocked out of him again as yet another guard tackled him. He slammed a fist into Hyrestl’s face, once, twice, three times. Hyrestl blinked.
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“Heh! Weak,” he croaked.
Four.
That blow brought stars to his vision, and he let himself go limp. Other guardsmen gathered around, and a couple gave him a kick for good measure.
Hyrestl groaned. He was picked up between two of them and hauled away to the prison.
***
Adilah cautiously watched Harbiya out of the corner of her eye. Not hours ago he’d been acting smug. Now, there were obvious signs of impatience and frustration in his manner. That is to say, he made it overly obvious. He glared at her from time to time, and when one of the men returned with food and drink, he denied her any of it. Finally, he motioned to two of his men.
“Go find out what that flaming imbecile is doing.”
The two Kamwa left.
Hours passed. Adilah decided to antagonize Harbiya. She was hungry but didn’t let it show. In fact, she lay down on the bed to take a little nap.
Water splashed in her face, and she sputtered. She opened her eyes to a red-faced Harbiya standing over her with a cup in his hand.
“You flaming vixen! Wake up!”
She brushed her hair into place with her fingers and sat up daintily on the edge of the bed. His face curled into a snarl.
“Fine, whatever game your minions are playing, we’ll play too.” He turned and pointed to two of the men. “You’re going to watch this blackened whore, and if you allow her to escape or be freed, I’ll kill you myself.”
He looked at the others. “As for the rest of you, spread out and find Leyla. I want at least two of you scouring the temple grounds. If you meet with resistance, kill them and make sure to search more carefully in that area.”
He turned and eyed Adilah. Her calm mask had cracked a little. He could see in her eyes how unsettled she was. She looked away casually, examining her nails. Harbiya smirked. He and his men left.
He decided he was going where the lips were loosest: a bar or an inn. He needed a good drink too.
He mingled with the crowd and assumed its atmosphere as his temperament. It was lightly jovial, though an air of tiredness was on some faces too. It was toward the end of the day, after all, and some had been walking the entire time. He spotted two men leaning on each other and singing as they went.
I traveled to Tal’s Tavern, one morning and one night!
You did?
I did! And a girl winked her waggly brow at me!
Don’t say?
Do say! But I passed it up for a beer of three!
The two cackled in a fit of laughter, and Harbiya joined in with them.
“Where can I ’ave a jolly good time like you two, eh?” Harbiya said.
They turned to him. “Why, there’s only the best place in town! The Inn!”
“Haders?”
They shook their heads. “No! That flaming place couldn’t serve a proper beer if the king himself came down for a visit! The Inn!” They unsteadily turned around and pointed to the peak of a roof rising above all those around it.
“The Inn!” they repeated laughing and continued on their way.
Harbiya recognized the building. He’d seen it before and thought it very odd that the Telamian’s style of architecture could be found in such a remote and protected place. Business had always taken precedence over his curiosity, though, and he seldom traveled to Edge anyway.
He walked in its direction.
***
Hyrestl polished glasses despite having his wrists bound together. His face was swollen and pained him.
The guards hadn’t searched him, and he was thankful for that. He still had all of his concealed weapons on him, including his sword. He had Bardullah’s personal guardsmen to thank for this. They had ordered his immediate release to them upon the report he’d been thrown in a prison cell.
Customers glanced his way, curious and wary. He knew he was being put on display as a warning to others. One simply didn’t try to run away from a prince. Despite all of this, he felt a little better. But only a little.
His new and old bruises only let a little of his inner pain leak out. It was like poking a small hole in a dam. It would never drain all the water that was backed up. He could feel it boiling up inside of him again.
His hands were literally tied.
He was nervous and frustrated. He was at the end of his rope, and it was badly frayed. He was fatigued and stressed by pressures coming down on him from every direction. He had found solace in the inn and even in training Rylen on some days. It was like he could control and take back a little of what he had lost.
It was all a lie. All of it. A lie.
He was inexplicably chained to Rylen. For what purpose he didn’t know. Reason said to kill him to be set free, but it also told him that if he did so, he’d have the combined might of two countries out to capture him.
Hyrestl breathed in deeply, trying to calm himself, but he could only feel the panic rising again, the mad paranoia—
Paranoia?
The feeling had returned. Fear dropped into Hyrestl’s stomach as he turned his eyes upward and watched as he walked into the inn. The man looked around casually and came up to the bar. The color drained from Hyrestl’s face. His hands became clammy and cold.
The man’s face was pale from lack of sun. His hair was a dark blond, and he’d grown a full beard. The eyes were brown and hid a special glint. The way he moved was smooth and, like a cat, always ready and nimble. He glanced at Hyrestl and the ropes tying him, then sat at the bar. “Get me a regular beer.”
Hyrestl’s hands stopped polishing the glass. A beautiful but banged-up bracer peeked out from under the sleeve of the man’s right arm. The man frowned and looked back at him. This time, he took closer notice of the barman’s face. His eyes widened, and his face became ashen white.
Hyrestl shattered the glass on the bar and punched out with its razor-sharp edges at the man’s face. Harbiya raised his right forearm and the glass shattered on it. He tumbled back onto the floor. Boot Man lounging in a chair nearby scrambled up and rushed at the attacker.
Harbiya scrambled to his feet and made for the door. Hyrestl slammed his shoulder into the guard’s belly and pulled his sword free from its scabbard. Harbiya ran.
The innkeeper gave a battle yell, leaped over the bar, and flung the sword with all his might.
The sword sang for a split second as it hurtled through the air toward Harbiya’s head.
Harbiya ducked and tumbled through the doorway as the sword impaled itself through the depth of the inn’s wall. Women screamed.
Hyrestl didn’t leave himself time to watch but rather stumbled and ran out the door as Boot Man’s loud steps chased after. He burst through it and caught a glimpse of Harbiya running away in the crowd before disappearing.
He quickly ran in the opposite direction as shouts rang out behind him. He wouldn’t wait for a blade to slip between his ribs later on. He pulled a knife from his boot and cut through his bindings with a quick flick of his wrist. He kept running and made several turns before disappearing into the dense crowds of the festival.