Lakhoni (36 page)

Loud
voices came in through the doorway on this side of the canal.

Lakhoni
darted to a wall, opening his senses. He stayed close to the wall and crept
toward the doorway.

“ . . .come
in here,” said a deep voice. It sounded like it came from a man standing just
out of sight in the hallway.

“Not
even servants,” said another voice, this one deep as well.

“Nothing
more to report?” This voice sounded slightly farther off and was higher than
the other two voices.

“No,
sir,” said the first voice.

“As
you were,” the third voice said. “No one enters, not even servants.” The sound
of footsteps faded away.

“Hey,”
the second voice—it was a little deeper and sounded like it came from a larger
man—said. “Why are we guarding water?”

Lakhoni
heard a snort. Then, “I know. They think someone might poison the water but—”

The
second man grunted.

“Right.
It’s moving too fast for that to work,” the first voice said.

“So
we’re wasting our time,” said the second man.

“That’s
right.”

“Well
at least we won’t go thirsty.”

Lakhoni
leaned against the wall as the guards lapsed into comfortable conversation.
Now
what?

There
had to be some way to get past the guards without raising an alarm.

Maybe
a distraction. Lakhoni searched the room from his position against the water
room’s wall. Something that would draw the guards away from the door.

To
where?

Discarding
that idea, Lakhoni wondered if it might work to simply wait for the guards to
move on, or be reassigned to somewhere else.

No,
that would take far too long. He had to get to Alronna fast. Not knowing what
they were planning, what they intended to do with his sister, was frustrating.
He had to move.

He
scanned the room again, hoping an idea would come to him.

Buckets,
scrubbing boards, soap.

He
noticed the other door again, directly opposite from his position next to this
guarded doorway. Surely that door had soldiers posted as well.

At
least it sounds like nobody is going to come in here. Not even servants.

He
darted across the room, careful to hide the noise of his movement under the
voice of the rushing water. After a moment of focusing his senses, he heard two
voices—both coming from men just outside the door.

Fathers!
Is there no way out of this cursed room?

He
focused on the laundry area again. That was it.

But
which door to try?

He
would decide when the time came. First, he had to change.

Lakhoni
hurried to the shelves of folded cloth, hoping his guess was correct.
Yes!
They were stacks of the loincloths worn by temple servants. He chose a cloth
that looked like it would fit and undressed. He fastened the loincloth around
his waist and rolled up his old, worn clothes, going to shove them in his
beaten up bag. He opened it and found pasty mush.
The bread and cheese!
He
mentally chided himself. He hurried to the rushing water, cleaned off his knife
and washed out the bag. He shook the bag as dry as he could, then shoved his
rolled up clothes into the bag, followed by his knife. How to keep hold of the
bag? There was no way to hide it under the simple cloth he now wore.

Casting
about, he grabbed a tall stack of the clean clothes. He shoved his bag in the
middle of the stack. He spent a long minute patting and arranging the cloths so
that the lump his bag made was less detectable. There was still a lump,
especially due to the wet clothes, but hopefully in the confusion of the attack
on the city, nobody would bother noticing.

He
looked left and right, wishing he had some way of knowing which door to choose.
Fathers, please show me where to go!

Nothing.
No sign.

Left,
then.
He
checked himself with his hands, hoping he looked presentable. He had not
noticed a different tattoo for temple servants, so it wasn’t too much to hope
that the guards would believe he belonged here.

An
idea came to him.
Probably best to have two reasons for being here.
He
set the stack of clothes down and chose a bucket. He hooked the handle of the
bucket on the swinging wooden arm he had used to get out of the canal. Then he
simply swung the wood arm out and the bucket dipped into the water, the current
pushing the bucket so it was on its side. Using the rope attached to the
swinging arm, he pulled the bucket back to the side of the canal. He retrieved
his dripping bucket, stooped to pick up his stack of clothes, and headed toward
the door.

He
set a firm pace, tried to force a look of bored urgency on his face, and walked
into the corridor. He must have caught the guards somewhat by surprise, because
the shout came after he had already taken several steps down the stone
corridor.

“Hey!”

Lakhoni
stopped and turned, doing his best to look surprised and irritated at the
interruption.

The
guards wore the usual soldier garb of a loincloth and a sash with a weapon
hanging from a wide leather belt. The men were about the same height, both with
tattoos covering their shaved scalps, and burly shoulders and chests.

Lakhoni
was surprised to realize that they were not much taller than him.

“What
are you doing?” One of the guards stepped close and stared at Lakhoni. “You’re
not supposed to be in there.”

Feigning
confusion, Lakhoni glared back. “What are you talking about?” He hefted first
the bucket of water, then the stack of clothes. “I have to take water to the
kitchen and deliver these.” He made as if to leave. “Where else am I supposed
to get water?”

The
other guard reached out and grabbed Lakhoni by a shoulder. “How’d you get in
there?” Real curiosity was detectable in his voice.

“By
the door!” Lakhoni pulled his shoulder away, determined to keep up the
appearance that he belonged. “What are you two doing here anyway?”

“Guarding
the door,” grunted the first guard.

Lakhoni
waited a moment so that it wouldn’t seem as if he had practiced his next line.
“But what’s the point of guarding this side if nobody’s on the other door?”

The
guard closest to him blinked once, slowly. The other guard’s mouth dropped
open. They turned to each other.

“What?”
said the second guard. “Nobody’s on the other side?”

“I
didn’t see anybody,” Lakhoni said.

The
second guard swore and spun, running the few steps back to the doorway. The
first guard followed.

Surprised
at how well his plan had worked and holding back laughter at the reactions of the
guards, Lakhoni almost forgot to get moving.

“Wait
there!” called one of the guards as they both disappeared into the water room.

Lakhoni
shook himself and, glancing around to try and get his bearings, walked three
paces and turned left.
This should take me deeper into the temple. There
must be stairs somewhere.

He
walked as fast as he could, trying not to spill water from the bucket. After
soaking his leg a few times, he reminded himself that the water didn’t actually
have to get to the kitchen. He set the bucket down and, holding the stack of
clothes tightly, picked up the pace.

He
passed plenty of servants and only a few soldiers. He congratulated himself on
his ruse, seeing that he blended in fairly well with the servants. Most had less
hair, but it wasn’t enough that anybody noticed.

Finally,
after making several turns and passing multiple rooms, he came to a set of
stone stairs cut out of a single, massive block. There was no chance a king
would live on the ground floor of a building like this. The Bonaha and Shelu
had to be up higher, with Alronna in tow. He glanced around. For a moment,
nobody was in sight. He walked a few paces down a corridor, found an empty
room—it looked like a bedroom—and set the stack of clothes down inside the
door. He put his damp breeches back on and retrieved his pouch, rolling it
tightly around the dagger and tucking the bundle under his arm.

He
began to climb the stairs, forcing focus and purpose onto his face. He needed
to look like he belonged. He finally felt like he could catch his breath.
Gimno,
Shelu, and the Bonaha have Alronna somewhere in here. With three other halkeen
and an army of the Living Dead out there.
Despair struck like a heavy club.
There’s no way I’ll get her out. No chance.
Despair struggled to break
loose in his chest. His throat was dry and rough as summer bark. There would be
no escape.

He
pushed back the doubts and the questions. No time for weakness. Alronna needed
him. And maybe he would get lucky enough to kill Shelu, or even the Bonaha, who
deserved the justice the king had already received.

I
can do this. I
have
to do this.
No matter what.

At
the top of the stairs, he found himself on a landing at the end of a long, wide
corridor that extended at least a hundred feet ahead of him. Another set of
stairs angled to the next level, also cut out of a massive stone block. Taking
a few steps, he saw that another corridor branch extended to the left. He tried
to impose the view he’d had of the outside of the temple onto what he was now
seeing. These corridors were probably on the outer edge of this second level.
There had to be an exit to the balconies here. Would the Bonaha be on one of
those balconies, watching the chaos he’d caused?

He
bit back the urge to break into a run.

Light
streamed into the corridor from one of the doorways. Lakhoni walked quickly to
the edge of the huge doorway and peered out. Soldiers marched by, clearly on
alert and all of them looking southward.

Instinct
told him to go farther up in the temple. Someone like the Bonaha would be at
the highest point. He doubled back, heart hammering. He passed the occasional
servant, but was mostly on his own in the corridor.

He
hit full speed at the top of the second set of stairs. His feet barely brushed
the dark brown stone as he leapt up them. At the top of that staircase, he
found another. At the sixth set of stairs, he sensed he was nearing the top of
the temple. He slowed and stepped carefully onto the landing. He stood in a
square, low-ceilinged room that had one wide doorway. There were no more
stairs. He prayed he had guessed correctly and darted to what he thought was
the east wall. The shadows were a little thicker here.

Lakhoni
listened at the edge of the doorway. Voices. He glanced through the doorway. It
led, as he’d hoped, to a balcony. As he stood there, horns sounded across the
city and nearby, accompanied by raised voices. Something was happening.

He
examined the large doorway, hoping to find some way to venture out onto the
balcony without being seen. Stone walls angled down to either side of the
exterior of the doorway, extending at a slant from somewhere above the door and
ending about eight feet beyond on the stone of the balcony. He should be able
to hug tightly to one of those walls and stay out of sight.

Lakhoni
stepped through the doorway and carefully made his way out onto the temple’s
top balcony. The voices came from his left, so he ran to the opposite angled
wall and crouched lower as he crept further out.

He
poked an eye carefully over the top of the wall, pulling himself back and down
quickly. In the brief moment he’d had, Lakhoni had seen the Bonaha, Gimno, the
man he believed was Shelu, and another warrior. Shelu had been holding
Alronna’s arm. They were all looking out over the city.

A
voice that Lakhoni thought was Shelu’s spoke, “I will find him and one of them
will tell me where it is.”

“We
cannot let anything stop us. You must capture him immediately.” The Bonaha.

“I
am certain, Holiness,” Shelu said. “The boy was foolish enough to come here. We
will catch him.”

Fear
spiked through him. Did they know he was here?

The
other slaves. Had one of them tried to gain favor with Shelu by telling about
Alronna’s visitor?

“Obviously
he would do anything for his sister,” Shelu said. “When we threaten her, he
will tell us of the sword.”

Lakhoni’s
stomach tied into a knot. He had been so stupid! Of course he couldn’t trust
the slaves to keep quiet.

“You
will have to be convincing. The boy is clearly strong,” the Bonaha said.

“As
I have said.” This was Gimno.

The
sword. Lakhoni realized that he might actually be able to tell them where the
sword probably was. The story of his father and grandfather in the mountain
caves had been told several times. He was sure he could at least find the
mountain, based on the landmarks his father had described.

Could
he trade knowledge of the Sword of Nubal for his sister? The idea filled him.
He could actually get Alronna out of this. Lakhoni’s thoughts swirled. The
Bonaha and the others wouldn’t want to give up their leverage without knowing
for sure he would have the sword in hand. No, they would want to take Alronna
and Lakhoni along on the search.