It s nothing, really. Kefanin waved a dismissive hand. Not worth
Tell me what, Kef?
The majordomo sighed. Well, then. It seems we are being subjected to a little more clerical brinkmanship. The Citadel wish once more to remind us of their existence.
They re out there again? Egar hadn t noticed coming in, and an odd sense of shame crept through him at the realization. Some fucking hound, Eg. Guys on the gate didn t say a thing about it when I came in.
Kefanin shrugged. They are on loan from the palace. They don t want unnecessary trouble.
That ticklish fucking balance again. Egar remembered the wary looks the guardsmen had given him. Felt a fierce grin stitch itself onto his face.
They think I d cause unnecessary trouble?
My lord, I do not know if
Leave it with me, Kef.
Voice trailing out behind him as he walked away. Riding an upsurge of varying emotion now, at whose heart was that same vaguely familiar restlessness he couldn t pin down. He strode back through the chambers and halls of the house. Across the blaze of the courtyard. Under the brief, cool caress of the arch, past the startled guardsmen assholes without a word. Out once more into the bustle and tramp of the street.
Paying attention now, he spotted them easily enough there, under one of the acacia trees planted in twinned rows down the center of the boulevard. The lean, drab-robed figure of the invigilator and, flanking him in the cooling puddle of shade, the inevitable brace of men-at-arms; cheap bulk and professional scowls, lightweight mail shirts under surplices with the Citadel crest, short-swords sheathed at the hip.
There was a twinned flicker of motion as both men clapped hand to sword hilt when they saw the big Majak come striding through the traffic toward them. Egar nodded grim approval, let them know he d seen it, and then he was planted firmly in front of the invigilator.
You ve got the wrong house, he said conversationally.
The invigilator s face mottled with anger. How do you dare to
No, you re not listening to me. Egar kept his voice patient and gentle. There s obviously been some mistake back at the Citadel. Pashla Menkarak isn t keeping you up to date. When he sent you down here, didn t he tell you how dangerous it is to stand under this tree?
The invigilator flashed an inadvertent glance up at the branches over his head. Egar dropped an amiable right arm onto his shoulder, just above the collarbone. He dug in with his thumb. The invigilator uttered a strangled yelp. The men-at-arms came belatedly to life. One of them raised a meaty hand and grabbed Egar s free arm.
That s en
Egar clubbed down with the blade of his right hand, felt the invigilator s collarbone snap beneath the blow like a twig for kindling. The invigilator shrieked, collapsed in a sprawl of robes and choking pain. By then Egar had already turned on the man-at-arms who d grabbed him. He locked up the grasping hand with a Majak wrestling trick, put the man into the trunk of the tree face-first. The other man-at-arms was a heartbeat too slow in reacting, and did entirely the wrong thing he went for his sword. Egar swung a shoulder in with his full body weight behind it, trapped the man s sword arm across his chest, and smacked him in the temple with the heel of one palm. At the last moment, something made him pull the full force of the blow, and the man went down merely stunned.
Meanwhile, the one he d put face-first into the tree was still on his feet, blood streaming from a broken nose, and he d also decided it was time to bring out the steel. He got the sword a handbreadth out of its scabbard and then the Dragonbane kicked his legs out from under him. He went down in a sudden heap. Egar stepped in and kicked him again in the head. That seemed to take care of things.
Behind him, the invigilator was still screeching and thrashing about on the ground in his robes like some kind of beached manta ray. An interested crowd was starting to form. Egar looked up and down the street for reinforcements, saw none, positioned himself carefully, and kicked the robed form hard in the guts. The screaming stopped, was replaced by a ruptured puking sound. Egar planted another solid kick, higher this time, and felt a couple of ribs snap against his boot. Then he crouched beside the invigilator, grabbed him by the throat, and dragged him in close.
Look up there, he said bleakly, and jerked the man s head upward for emphasis. Pay attention, because I m only going to go through this once. See that window? Second floor, third across from the arch? That s my room. It looks directly out onto the street, right here. Now I know that you people and the lady of this house have some prior history, but here s the thing: I don t fucking care. And more important, I don t want to have to look out of that window and see your scowling face fucking up my view. Got it?
Gritted teeth snarl. I have an ordained right
Egar slapped the rest of the sentence out of the man s mouth.
We re not discussing rights, my friend. Do I look like a lawyer to you? We re talking here about a polite and reasonable personal request I m making, to you and all your bearded chums. Stay the fuck away from this house. Take that back to Menkarak, make sure he spreads it around. Because anyone who doesn t get the message, I will be forced to hurt, probably very badly. And if you ever come back here again. The Dragonbane dug his index fingernail in under the invigilator s chin and lifted his face closer. Looked into his eyes to make it stick. Well, then I ll kill you. Okay?
From the man s face, he judged the message conveyed.
He got up, looked around at the tumbled, twitching bodies, and the goggling crowd that had gathered.
Show s over, he said brusquely. Nothing to see here.
And there it was, something in the words as he spoke them, some echo of the elusive feeling he d been carrying around all day which now slid out from the shadows and took on recognizable form.
Bored, he realized with a slight shock. Dragonbane you are bored.
CHAPTER 3
Later, with the band muffled up in thickening cloud and the last of the daylight gone to a fading orange glow over the trees to the west, the march-masters set about building campfires. Tinder sparked and flared at intervals across the low open ground where the thirty-five coffles of slaves were huddled against the growing chill of night. Gerin watched the flames spring up, and counted four, no, five of them among the slaves and another smaller one farther out where the overseer s tents were pitched. None was close enough to cast more than the faintest radiance on the men in his coffle a gleam here and there on a few pale, city-bred faces like Tigeth s, the odd glint of an eye catching the light as someone turned their head. But mostly, the slaves made a rumpled and undistinguished mass of shadow in the gloom.
There was a faint, watery itching in Gerin s eyes and throat. He felt suddenly, ineptly weak.
He forced it down. No time for that now.
Those march-masters not tasked with the fires began the lengthy business of feeding and watering their charges. They moved outward among the slaves in ones and twos, dealing out the odd casual kick or blow to open passage. The men overseeing Gerin s coffle at least seemed in rough good humor as they went around, slopping cold stew into the shallow wooden bowls with reasonable attempts at accuracy, taking the trouble to hand out the chunks of stale bread rather than just throw them, here and there grunting the kind of gruffly soothing words you d offer a well-behaved dog. Gerin put it down to Barat s absence with the troublemaker off the chain and left to rot, there d be no more unwelcome attention from the overseers, and that had to be good. Now they could all, slaves and march-masters together, get on with the practical business of reaching journey s end in peace.
Gerin forced down mouthfuls of the gelatinous stew, gnawed at a corner of his bread. He swallowed hard, breathed, swallowed again, and
Abruptly, he was choking.
Choking thrashing flailing hard in his chains, so the manacles gouged at his wrists and ankles, and the men around him panicked back as far as their own restraints would let them. Clamor went back and forth.
What the
