Read Diplomats and Fugitives (The Emperor's Edge Book 9) Online

Authors: Lindsay Buroker

Tags: #General Fiction

Diplomats and Fugitives (The Emperor's Edge Book 9) (39 page)

“All right.” She sat on a boulder, putting her back toward a stunted tree. She spotted a patch of
tassilon
flowers growing up from under the rock. The petals were useful in one of her potions, so she plucked a few, leaving enough flowers unmolested so they could survive and reproduce. “I’m sure you would never guess, but I grew up in the forest.”

Basilard smiled and leaned forward, lifting a hand tentatively. She wasn’t sure what he meant to do, but she didn’t move. She had already figured out that whatever violence he did was out of necessity, not because he had any predilection toward it. He plucked something out of her hair, then leaned back, holding up a dried leaf.

Ashara snorted. “Yes, I can thank my mother for this hair.” She waved at the tangles she knew were barely restrained by her tie. “As wild as the forest I grew up in. As a child, I was never interested in playing with the girls in the village, pretending at keeping house and raising babies. I was always out with my father and cousins, hunting, tracking, swimming, and learning archery and swordsmanship. My mother was a shaman and taught me much about potion making. Our little village was a good place to grow up, but I had an adventurer’s spirit. After my father passed away, I joined the army, hoping to see the country.” She almost told him about the night stalker program that had come after that, the testing for mental science aptitude and the special combat training, but she didn’t think it was that important to the conversation. Besides, she worried that a Mangdorian would find her past unappealing. Even the Turgonians sneered at the idea of assassins, though their government had secretly used them. It still surprised her that Elstark had never been bothered by her work.

“I worked in a mobile army unit for several years, traveling the plains and protecting the borders.” That was true enough, if vague. “I never expected that I would one day become a city girl. But I had an assignment to guard Lord Elstark on a trek around Kendor; his father—the former prime minister—had sent him to do a census and check in with all of the villages and towns, even the remote ones. He was a bard and a politician and a good man. The people loved him. He wasn’t the kind of person who you would expect to have any interest in a woman wandering around with the forest in her hair.” She glanced at the leaf Basilard had dropped and shook her head ruefully. “But for some reason, he did. He, ah, courted me, basically.” She felt awkward discussing this part of the story with Basilard. “And I fell for him—any woman would have. When his mission traipsing across the country was over, we got married, and I returned to his home in the capital. Have you been to Reedsport?”

Basilard shook his head. It was getting harder to see him. Not that it mattered, since she was doing all of the babbling.

“There are over a hundred thousand people there. It’s not quite as insanely crowded as the Turgonian capital, but there’s less infrastructure and technology being used down there, so it feels… Let’s just say that it wasn’t a natural fit for a girl who preferred the forests and solitude. But I loved Elstark, and I stayed for him. We had two children. He had plenty of money, so there was no need for me to work, but I still went foraging from time to time. I needed an excuse to escape the city, and I needed something to do. I also wanted to teach my children about nature, edible and medicinal herbs. I made potions to keep the skill alive. Usually, potion makers are respected, at least out in the woods where I grew up, because they tend to be healers. But in the city… I didn’t realize it at first, but the hobby was regarded with suspicion by some people.”

Maldynado wondered if you were a witch
, Basilard signed, surprising her. He seemed to have surprised himself, too, because he held up an apologetic hand. She might not have caught the quick gestures if they hadn’t already been talking about this subject and if she hadn’t already heard Maldynado muttering his witch suspicions.

“Yes, that’s basically the term the Kendorian city people used, as well. The word alchemist is closer to what the woods folk called us. You always think of rural people as being less educated, but in this case, it was the city people. Many of them had forgotten our nomadic pasts and given up some of the old branches of the mental sciences for newer ones.” She shrugged. “Sorry, I’m rambling. The point is that some people were suspicious of me and that I didn’t fit in. Others didn’t like me, simply because Elstark had picked me and not them or their daughters or nieces. It was my first time dealing with gaggles of women and petty jealousy. Elstark knew I wasn’t that happy there, and we were talking about moving to a smaller town when…” She took a deep breath. Even though years had passed, this part of her history was still difficult to talk about. “I returned with the children from a foraging trip at the park, and Elstark was dead on the floor of the kitchen. Jiana—my daughter—screamed, and my mother-in-law ran in from the house next door. I was so stunned, I didn’t know what to do. I stood there, trying to think who might have done it and trying to figure out how I would hunt down the person and kill him—or her, as it turned out to be. The authorities came eventually and did an investigation. They found Elstark had been killed by poison. The last thing I expected was to become a suspect, but that was exactly what happened.”

Why would someone think you would kill your mate?
Basilard signed.

Engrossed in her story, she almost missed the question. “Nobody who knew us well thought it,” Ashara said, “but there were others who believed I wanted his inheritance. We had lived simply, but everyone knew his family had money. Looking back, I’m not sure how many people truly believed I wanted money—it’s not as if people who crave wealth become soldiers. Maybe they just wanted to get rid of me, or they wanted to believe the worst of me. In addition to being an oddity there, I was never charismatic. You might have noticed.”

Not me
. He smiled.

She almost laughed. She wasn’t sure what she had expected from him, but hardly anyone else had believed her innocent, so she supposed she had assumed he might feel the same way. The fact that he was trying to lift her spirits… She appreciated it.

“While they were debating what to do with me, I ran off, intent on finding Elstark’s killer. Looking back, that wasn’t the wisest move, because people thought I was running to escape the law, even though I’d told my in-laws what I was doing and arranged for them to watch the children while I was gone. I assumed it wouldn’t take that long and that in finding the person responsible, I could clear my name. I didn’t expect it would take me two years to find the woman—she was a practitioner and had powers greater than mine. She’d been a former lover of Elstark’s, one who was bitter that he’d chosen another. Apparently, she had meant the poison for me. It was in a baked good that I bought regularly and ate, but Elstark had come home early, and he ate it instead.”

She rubbed her face. Basilard signed something, but she couldn’t make it out. Full night was approaching, and a few torches or lanterns moved in the distance, reminding her that he had a mission to accomplish, one more important than listening to her ramble about the difficulties in her life.

“When Shukura came to see me,” she said, hurrying to wrap up the story, “he implied that if I didn’t help, my children would be in danger. I don’t know how far his reach is, but…” She stared glumly at the dark ground. “I’ve tried before to retrieve them, but because they’re Elstark’s children, they’re well protected. Our law patrollers have orders to shoot me if I return again.”

Basilard touched her arm and drew her around the boulder to a protected niche. He pulled out a lantern and lit it, keeping the flame low. Ashara grimaced, knowing he risked being spotted so he could talk to her. She should have finished her story more quickly.

Why did you work with us then?
Basilard signed by the small light.
I doubt it was Maldynado’s charm.

Ashara almost told him that it had been
his
charm, but that was a silly thing to say. Yes, she felt a connection to him because he, too, had a child he couldn’t reach, but it had been more the question of ethics that had bothered her all along. “Even though I eventually became a soldier, I grew up as a protector of the forest, under my parents’ guidance. To help along a blight… I couldn’t do that. Especially not after I realized my people were responsible for it. Shukura left out that detail. I’d always assumed spies were better informed.”

You will leave? Return to Turgonia?

“I’ll leave in the morning. I hope you understand that even if my nation has turned its back on me, I don’t have a grudge against all of the people in it. As a former soldier, it would be particularly difficult to fight soldiers. Like that letter we found said, they’re just men and women going along with orders from their superiors. It makes me uncomfortable to know that I already shot some of them. In that case, it was self-defense, but I don’t want to fight more of them if I have another choice.”

I do understand.

“As for going back to Turgonia, I don’t know if I can,” Ashara said. “Shukura may not be pleased with my failure. I’m not sure yet where I’ll go.” Wherever it was, it would be a lonely road. Even if she enjoyed the solitude of the wilds, she missed having kin and friends to come home to once in a while. It was strange to think that she had spent more time with Basilard and his comrades in the last few days than she had with anyone else in years. Even her children. She had seen them so little since Elstark’s death. “I may have to risk trying to get Jiana and Khanrin again, if only to ensure that Shukura can’t do anything to harm them when he learns…” She shrugged.

Would you consider staying for a non-combat position?
Basilard asked.

Ashara stared at him. “What?”

You’ve seen my forces. I need all of the help I can recruit. You have healing skills. We may need them.
Basilard peered toward the canyon—the number of torches in the distance had doubled. The outline of the log walls being erected was just visible, along with a new train of wagons parked in front.
We’ll definitely need them.

“You’re positive you’ll battle them, then?”

Earlier, he had not seemed sure.

I—my comrades and I—have more experience than the men you brought down with you. They’re determined to fight. I’m afraid they’ll all get themselves killed without some guidance. I’m not sure yet what we’ll do, but we must do something.
Basilard found her shoulder in the dim lighting. He grasped it gently, before lowering his hand to sign,
I appreciate that you went with Mahliki and offered your assistance. You’ve already helped us when I see now that you truly had no reason to.

“Trust me: I didn’t do much to help with the blight.” Ashara meant to leave it at that, but then she caught herself adding, “I did poke a few holes into the grimbals trying to eat us on the way to your village.” She didn’t usually brag, but for some reason, she wanted him to know she had been useful.

Yes, I heard.
He nodded. Mahliki must have summarized their trek for him.
She said she tested you, and you passed.

“She what?” Ashara had the impression of a dry tone with his signs, though she couldn’t have said how she knew. Still, she felt offended. What test? Nothing to do with the grimbals—Mahliki wouldn’t have been so foolish as to attempt to arrange that encounter.

She said she asked you which—
Basilard made a couple of gestures she had never seen before and finished with
—was responsible for the blight.

Something about the bacteria? That must be it. The four sample containers Mahliki had brought out. “Yes, I remember.”

She already knew the answer. She was seeing if you would lead her astray.

“Oh.”

Yes, offended was definitely the word, even if she could understand Mahliki and the others being wary of her. Maybe it was more the idea of someone as young as Mahliki testing her. And outsmarting her. Ashara hadn’t suspected that, and she felt a chill, remembering that for the briefest of moments, she had considered lying. If she had, she and Basilard would be having a much different conversation.

You do not owe us anything
, Basilard signed,
but if you stay and aid us, and I survive the battle, I would help you when we’re done.

“Help me?”

With Shukura
. Basilard lifted a shoulder.
Or sneaking into your country to retrieve your children.

“I…” Ashara had no idea what to say. It was such a monumental thing to offer, to help a person commit a crime—and since she was no longer Jiana and Khanrin’s legal guardian, that’s what it would be—in a foreign country. And yet, she did not sense that Basilard was someone who made promises he didn’t keep. By the gods, why would he make such an offer? “I couldn’t let you get yourself in that kind of trouble with my people, but—”

They’re about to hate me and want me dead for other reasons.
Basilard waved toward the canyon.
If they don’t already. I blew up a few thousand ranmyas worth of supplies, and people may have been hurt.
His expression was grim.
Or worse.

“There’s a difference between acts undertaken during combat and non-war crimes,” Ashara said. “But let me think on your offer. Perhaps if some deal could be made with Shukura, I could return to my studies.” If Basilard knew the Turgonian president, and the president was willing to lean on Shukura, maybe he could be dissuaded from reporting back to Kendor on Ashara’s doings.

Basilard lifted his hands to respond, but a scream cut across the rocks first, a scream of terror that raised all of the hairs on Ashara’s neck. Basilard cut out the lantern.

The noise had come from the direction of the outpost being constructed. Ashara could not see what might have caused it, but more shouts followed on the heels of the scream. Lanterns that had been stationary or moving steadily along at the speed of a walk now jerked about. Some of the people holding them were running. Others seemed to be spinning in place, trying to see something.

A rifle fired. The shouts were too far away for Ashara to make out the words, but she could hear the fear and pain in them. She took a step in that direction, her natural instinct to find out what was wrong and help. But she looked at Basilard, realizing this might be some part of his plans.

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