Oath of Swords

me, M’lord, or my daughter, if I’d been fool enough to have one.”

Bahzell frowned, but she was right. He’d already put her at risk simply by crossing her path, and he needed all the help he could get.

“Clothes first,” he said, and Tala nodded, accepting his acceptance. “I’ve naught that would fit her, and if anyone sees that cloak-”

“I understand, M’lord. We’re close enough in size my clothes would do. And then?”

“And then forget you ever saw us. I’m thinking it’s the servants’ way out for us.”

“Can she walk?” Tala asked bluntly, and Farmah stirred.

“I can walk.” Tala eyed her skeptically, and she straightened in the chair, one arm pressed to her side to cradle broken ribs. “I can ,” she repeated, “and I have to.”

“But where can you- No.” Tala cut herself off and shook her head. “Best I don’t know any more than I must.”

“Aye, for all our sakes,” Bahzell agreed grimly, and began stuffing items into a leather rucksack, starting with the heavy purse his father had sent with him.

“Very well, M’lord. I’ll be as quick as I can.”

Tala slipped out, closing the door behind her, and Bahzell worked quickly. He could take little, and he made his choices with ruthless dispatch, watching Farmah from the corner of one eye as he packed. She listed sideways in the chair, no longer holding herself erect to prove her strength to Tala, and he didn’t like the way she was favoring her right side. Something broken in there, and gods only knew what other damage she’d suffered. He admired her courage, but how far could she walk? And how quickly, when Churnazh’s men would be after them a-horseback within hours?

He pushed the worry aside as best he could and buckled the rucksack, then took his steel-bowed arbalest from the wall. (That was one more thing for Churnazh to sneer at-what sort of a hradani relied on arrows or bolts instead of meeting his enemies hand to hand?) Bahzell had hostage right to carry his personal weapons whenever he chose, but one sight of the arbalest by any sentry would raise questions he dared not answer, and he hesitated, loath to abandon it, then whirled as the door opened silently once more.

It was Tala, clothing bundled under her arm. She paused if to speak when she saw him holding the arbalest, then shook her head and crossed quickly to Farmah and helped her up from the chair. The door of the inner bedchamber closed behind them, and Bahzell laid the arbalest aside with regret. Their chance of getting as far as the city gate unchallenged was already so slight as not to exist; adding more weight to the odds would be madness.

He shrugged to settle his armor and began to pace. No one was likely to stumble over Harnak, but every second increased the chance of his regaining consciousness and raising the alarm himself. Once that happened-

Bahzell pushed the thought aside with his worries over Farmah’s strength. There was nothing he could do if it happened; best to concentrate on what to do if it didn’t, and he rubbed his chin and shifted his ears slowly back and forth as he thought. The immediate problem was escaping the city, but after that he still had to get Farmah to Hurgrum somehow, and how was he to do that when he himself dared not enter Hurgrum’s territory? He could think of only one way, but with Farmah’s injuries and-

He turned as the bedchamber door opened once more and Farmah stepped through it. Her movements were slow and obviously painful but stronger than he’d dared hope, and Tala followed her with a worried expression.

The housekeeper had done well, Bahzell thought. It would take an observant eye to realize the plain gray gown was just too large, its hem just too short for Farmah, and the extra girth helped hide the bandages Tala had bound tight about her ribs. Its long, full sleeves hid the bruises and rope burns on the girl’s arms, as well, and Tala had dressed her hair, but nothing could hide the marks on her face. The blood had been washed away, and the cuts no longer bled, yet they were raw and ugly, and her bruises, especially the ones on her broken left cheek, were dark and swelling.

Farmah felt his gaze and touched her face.

“I’m sorry, M’lord,” she began wretchedly, and he felt her shame at her ugliness, her knowledge that some, at least, of those cuts would be scars for life and that anyone who saw them now would guess instantly what had happened to her, “but-”

“Hush, lass! It’s no fault of yours.” He glanced at Tala. “I’m thinking a hooded cloak might help,” he began, “and-”

“Indeed it might, M’lord,” Tala agreed, raising her arm to show him the cloak draped across it, “and I’ve had another thought or two, as well.”

“You’d best not be getting any deeper into this,” Bahzell objected, and the housekeeper snorted.

“I’m deep enough to drown already, M’lord, so save your worry for things you can change.” She was old enough to be Bahzell’s mother, and her tart tone was so like his old nurse’s that he grinned despite his tension. It seemed Churnazh had failed to crush at least one of his slaves completely, after all.

“Better,” Tala said, and folded her arms beneath her breasts. “Now, M’lord, about this plan of yours. If the pair of you try to leave together, you’ll be challenged by the first guard you meet.”

“Aye, that’s why-”

“Please, M’lord!” Her raised hand shut his mouth with a snap. “The point is that you don’t have to leave together. All the servants know how you creep in and out to visit Lord Brandark.” His eyes widened, and she shook her head impatiently. “Of course they do! So if they see you, they’ll assume that’s all you’re doing and look the other way, as always. And the guards are less likely to challenge you if you’re by yourself, as well. True?”

“Aye, that’s true enough,” he admitted slowly.

“In that case, the thing to do is for you to go out through the back ways while Farmah walks right out the front gate, M’lord.”

“Are you daft?! They’ll never let her pass with that face, woman! And if they do, they’ll guess who marked her the moment someone finds Harnak!”

“Of course they will.” Tala glared up at his towering inches and shook her head. “M’lord,” she said with the patience of one addressing a small child, “they’ll guess that anyway when they find her missing, so where’s the sense in pretending otherwise when leaving separately gives you both the chance to pass unchallenged, at least as far as the city gate?”

“Aye,” Bahzell rubbed his chin once more, “there’s some sense in that. But look at her, Tala.” Farmah had sagged once more, leaning against the door frame for support. She stiffened and forced herself back upright, and he shook his head gently. “It’s nothing against you, Farmah, and none of your fault, but you’ll not make the length of the hall without help.”

“No, M’lord, she won’t . . . unless I go with her.” Bahzell gaped at the housekeeper, and Tala’s shrug was far calmer than her eyes. “It’s the only way. I’ll say I’m taking her to Yanahla-she’s not much of a healer, but she’s better than the horse leech they keep here for the servants!”

“And if they ask what’s happened to her?” Bahzell demanded.

“She fell.” Tala snorted once more, bitterly, at his expression. “It won’t be the first time a handsome servant wench or slave has ‘fallen’ in this place, M’lord. Especially a young one.” Her voice was grim, and Bahzell’s face tightened, but he shook his head once more.

“That may get you out, but it won’t be getting you back in, and when they miss Farmah-”

“They’ll miss me, too.” Tala met his gaze with a mix of desperation and pleading. “I have no one to keep me here since my son died, and I’ll try not to slow you outside the city, but-” Her voice broke, and she closed her eyes. “Please , M’lord. I’m . . . I’m not brave enough to run away by myself.”

“It’s no sure thing we’ll have the chance to run,” Bahzell pointed out. Her nod was sharp with fear but determined, and he winced inwardly. Fiendark knew Farmah alone was going to slow him, and if Tala was uninjured, she was no spry young maid. He started to refuse her offer, then frowned. True, two city women would be more than twice the burden of one, under normal circumstances, but these weren’t normal.

He studied her intently, measuring risk and her fear against capability and the determined set of her shoulders, and realized his decision was already made. He couldn’t leave her behind if she helped Farmah escape, and her aid would more than double their chance to get out of the palace. Besides, the girl would need all the