thighs as they scraped the wood to either side. I gritted my teeth, crushed myself flat and narrow.
He gave a brief, high shriek. It could only mean we were trapped, about to be crushed by the inexorable apparatus of the gates…
No. Still moving. Cobbles flickered by beneath his feet. I glanced back.
The gates were shut. The tip of the poor beast's tail had stayed with them.
But we were through.
Alvantes was still riding hard ahead, though there was no way we could be followed immediately. Closing the gates had backfired, and bought us a breathing space from any pursuers. I encouraged my horse to forget his foreshortened tail with another tap of my heels, and did my best to close the distance.
We were in the crescent of temples that curved around the palace, on a wide thoroughfare that appeared to stretch the entire length of Pasaeda. By the time I caught up with Alvantes, he'd slowed slightly, and was turning his mount into a side road.
He rode hard for the next few minutes, leading us by twists and turns through the starlit streets until I'd altogether lost my sense of direction or any notion of where we were. Eventually, he slowed to let me draw alongside. We were approaching a small square. At its centre was a circle of cultivated woodland, and in the midst of that a squat building of white marble. From its roof rose a statue, also of marble, representing some ancient warrior brandishing his sword towards the heavens.
'Thanks for the tour,' I said, 'but was this really the time?'
'It won't have taken them long to follow,' Alvantes replied. 'At least that route should keep them chasing their tails awhile.'
If Alvantes had really bought us time, I felt I was overdue an answer to some crucial questions. 'So what's going on here? If you and your father have cooked up some conspiracy, I've a right to know.'
'Conspiracy? It's nothing like that.'
'Yet one minute you're locked in a prison cell and the next you're catching up with old friends.'
Alvantes shrugged resignedly. 'All right. As you must have realised, my father's a senator in the Court. Back in the cell, he passed me a message. A simple code.'
'A code?'
'Something we settled on years ago. A message hidden in the final words of each sentence.'
How had I missed it? I'd been so quick to write Alvantes Senior off as senile that I'd hardly bothered to consider what he was saying. From what I could remember of his diatribe, I could even piece together a little of what he'd told his son. There had been directions in there — and hadn't he mentioned something about the stable? All those strange allusions to times made a lot more sense now.
Thinking back brought another realisation — one I'd have made at the time if only I'd been paying attention. 'He gave you the key to your shackle, didn't he? When he hit you.'
'Yes.'
'Then he arranged for the door to be left open and the guard to be drugged.'
'Something like that. If the details are so important to you, ask him yourself.'
We'd almost reached the wooded glen and the small columned building with its militant passenger. It struck me almost in the same moment that it must be a tomb, and that a figure on horseback was just visible in the thick arboreal shadows.
'Good morning, Father,' said Alvantes.
Alvantes's father walked his horse out to meet us. 'Gailus passed you my message, then?' he said. 'I half- expected him to forget.'
Alvantes tipped his head towards the statue. 'He remembered. Grandfather, at least, looks well.'
'Sometimes I envy him. He fought his battles in simpler times.'
'Probably they didn't seem that way to him.'
'Perhaps. Perhaps the fights never seem straightforward when you're in the midst of them.' Alvantes's father sounded weary — more so even than a man of his age would normally be for staying up all night. 'It's good to see you free. But you should never have come to Pasaeda, Lunto.'
'I did what I had to do,' said Alvantes.
'Maybe. Either way, you're ahead of schedule. I take it they know you've escaped?'
Alvantes nodded.
'No time for pleasantries then. We'll talk as we ride.' Alvantes Senior turned his horse's nose toward a road other than the one we'd arrived by, and set off at a trot. He waited for us to match his speed before he continued, 'Panchetto's loss was a terrible blow. For the King and the kingdom. For all of us.'
Alvantes hung his head, much as he'd done when they last spoke. 'I know. Believe me.'
'I'm willing to accept that you'd have saved Panchetto if you possibly could. I think the King would be too, were he in his right mind. Moaradrid's rebellion and the uproar in the far north have been poisoning his thoughts for a long time now; and there are always elements in the Court ready to inject fresh bile.'
'Is there any way I can help?' asked Alvantes.
'Absolutely not.' His father's voice had acquired a note of iron forcefulness. 'Lunto, listen to me now, if it's the only time you ever do. The best and only thing you can do is to go home. Help Altapasaeda however you can. We'll send aid if we're able, but don't rely on it. In fact, for the time being, anticipate the worst.'
'What will you do?'
Alvantes Senior shook his head. It struck me more as a response to circumstances in general than to Alvantes's question. 'His Highness must not be allowed to become a tyrant. There are many of us in the Court who strive to keep him on the higher path.'
By then we were halfway down a long street, quite narrow by the standards of Pasaeda, hemmed on either side by two-storey buildings fronting directly to the road. They were still impressive, but considerably less so than the manors I'd seen on the way in. Perhaps here was the answer to my wonderings as to where Pasaeda's not- quite-so-wealthy citizens resided. Ahead, the walls were clearly visible about the rooftops, no more than a couple of minutes' ride away. Our freedom was truly within reach.
Pulling just ahead, Alvantes Senior wheeled his horse. 'We're near the gates,' he said. He motioned skyward, where the first light of sunrise was gilding the rooftops. 'Unless someone's had the foresight to pass on the alert, they'll be opening the gates at any minute. Go, while you still can.'
'The King's bound to realise you helped us,' said Alvantes.
'He'll see reason eventually. He'll understand my motives.'
'And if he doesn't?'
'Then he's still the King,' said Alvantes Senior. 'Go, Lunto.'
There was strain in his voice that hadn't been there an instant ago — controlled but unmistakeable. I glanced at Alvantes, saw I wasn't the only one to have noticed it.
'Come with us,' he said. 'For a while, at least. Give the King time to calm down.'
'It isn't for you or me to predict the moods of a King.'
'Father…'
'Don't insult me by asking me to further dishonour our family. I told you to go.' If the words were angry, his father's tone betrayed them. The strain had become something more. Could it be fear?
Whatever it was, it sent shivers through me. 'Come on,' I told Alvantes.
I could see the conflict in his face. But his father's was an inscrutable mask, offering no room for argument.
'Goodbye,' Alvantes said.
'Go!' Alvantes Senior stirred his horse into motion and rode swiftly past us, back in the direction we'd come.
After a moment's pause, Alvantes encouraged his own mount forward. Relieved that the family drama was done with, I followed.
We were almost at the end of the road before we heard Alvantes Senior's voice again. It was faint, but there was a clear note of remonstrance in it, as though he were arguing with someone.
I didn't want to stop. I didn't want to look. There was no good reason he'd be arguing with anyone in the street at this hour. Alvantes had already jerked to a halt — as though the sound were a shock of thunder that his gaze had sought out. His expression showed something worse than my own mounting alarm.
