The Black Wolves Read online

  That Atani glanced first at Mai and only afterward toward Eiko betrayed something, but Kellas could not know what it was. Not without gaining Atani’s full trust.

  “I should go back now anyway,” the prince added. “Mother will be sick with worry.”

  Atani was still looking at Eiko as he said the words so did not see the wistful smile that touched Mai’s face, as swift as a bird’s passing under the shadow of night. A woman who is generous enough to let go of something she desperately loves because she sees another may have greater need of it would smile like that.

  A spark of bright hot emotion flared in Kellas’s heart. The hells!

  A man could willingly die for a kiss from those lips.

  A man would die from that kiss.

  The mere thought of its risk was so cursedly tempting.

  Mai caught him looking at her and, guessing he had recognized the emotion her smile had betrayed, she gave a tiny downward gesture of her hand to indicate he should say nothing and show no sign so Atani would not know of her feelings toward the boy. The intimacy of the communication, the casual way she assumed Kellas would understand her, took his breath away.

  “Dannarah, too,” Atani went on obliviously. “It’s hard for Dannarah at the palace. Mother wants her to be brought up the same way she was in Sirniaka, but that isn’t right for Dannarah at all, especially not here in the Hundred. Besides me, no one really understands Dannarah except Father, and he thinks he has to send her away to please Mother, but that is only because he never really talks to Mother, he just talks past her. You and Dannarah will get along well, Eiko. I know it! I’ll go back, and sort things out, and then I’ll send for you.”

  Ever attuned to the nuances of emotion, Atani took hold of Arasit’s hand.

  “It’s all right,” the demon said curtly, blinking back tears. “I understand why I can’t go. You can come visit me here, when you can take out time from your glorious and princely life. But I guess it all depends on what your hero Captain Kellas decides to do, doesn’t it?”

  That was when it truly hit him.

  All that you learn you will share only with me, King Anjihosh had said.

  You will say nothing to my father of what just happened, Atani had commanded him.

  “Your choice, Kellas,” he murmured to himself, just to pretend he hadn’t already decided.

  Part Two

  Forty-Four Years Later

  7

  “Marshal? Marshal Dannarah, wake up. News has come in from the king.”

  Dannarah allowed herself one last inhalation to enjoy the heat of the sun warming her body, then opened her eyes. “I wasn’t asleep.”

  “No, of course you weren’t, Marshal.” The reeve standing before her grinned. “That’s why you have this couch positioned to catch the afternoon sun. People basking in the sun don’t ever get drowsy when they lie down for a few moments to fret about their manifold responsibilities.”

  Dannarah swung her legs off the couch and winced as her back tightened, the familiar tug of age. “It’s why they send you to wake me up, isn’t it, Tarnit?” she said as she reached for her reeve’s baton.

  “Because I’m still nimble enough to jump out of the way before you can hit me?”

  Dannarah laughed and shook the baton at her. “You’re only seventeen years younger than I am. You’ll be feeling these hells-bitten aches soon enough. Anyway I never fret.”

  She stretched to feel out her back and decided it was fine after all, no worse than usual. Tarnit walked over to the side table and poured water from a pitcher into a basin, a gesture the woman made not as a subordinate but because Tarnit was the sort of person who never thought twice about performing small kindnesses. It was one of the things that made Tarnit a good reeve: People found her easy to trust.

  “Go on, Tar. I’ll be right out.”

  Tarnit gave her a swift, assessing look, nodded, and pushed past the curtain that led into her study. Dannarah could now hear the voices of people chatting as they waited for her. She washed and dried her face and hands, then walked out onto the rock-hewn balcony of the suite of chambers that belonged to her: the marshal’s cote.

  The Hundred had six reeve halls—Horn, Bronze, Gold, Iron, Argent, and Copper—as well as Palace Hall in Toskala atop Law Rock. Reeves favored eyries that were hard for people to reach if they could not fly, and Horn Hall was no exception. It had been established countless generations ago atop a stony ridge at the edge of an escarpment that marked the westernmost edge of the Ossu Hills. Except for an easily defensible switchback trail that worked up the back of the ridge, the hall could only be reached by air. While the landing ground, lofts for the eagles, and gardens lay atop the ridge, the living areas were carved out of the rock. From her balcony she looked onto a gulf of air, the ground a hazy gold far below, the onion-like circular walls of the prosperous city of Horn laid out as neat as a map drawn by an expert hand, two main roads splitting east and west, and the spectacular peak of solitary Mount Aua in the far distance, half obscured by clouds.

  The sight never failed to wash a momentary sense of peace through her:

  She had come here often with her father and had often stood in exactly this place with him, looking over the land he ruled.

  Tarnit waited in the marshal’s study along with Horn Hall’s chief deputy and reeve instructor, chief fawkner, and chief steward. The messenger was a startlingly good-looking young reeve wearing the green stripes on his leather vest that marked him as assigned to Argent Hall. Cursed if new reeves didn’t look younger every year. He was well built and confident in the way she remembered Captain Kellas being when he was young. Although why she was reminded of Kellas after all these years she could not imagine. The hells! She hadn’t even seen Kellas since that terrible day twenty-two years ago.

  “And you are?” she said more snappishly than she intended as she walked to her writing desk.

  “I’m called Reyad. My eagle is surly.”

  “Bad-tempered?”

  “No, her name is Surly. Sweetest-tempered raptor in the Hundred.”

  Everyone chuckled. Reyad’s smile was a sweet one, sure to be a lure to questing eyes. She glanced at Tarnit and, indeed, Tar was examining him in her usual appreciative way.

  Dannarah bent over, touched a hand to the ground, and used the support to lever her aching knees down. She settled cross-legged on the pillow in front of the low desk, pleased that she managed it without looking too clumsy. “You’ve got a dispatch for me from Chief Marshal Auri about King Jehosh?”

  “No. The dispatch is about something else.” He held out a message tube, a length of bamboo sealed with wax at either end. Tarnit took it, melted the wax over a lamp flame, and shook out the rice paper with its neatly brushed words.

  Dannarah read quickly with mounting irritation, then summarized for the others. “The dispatch is a request for Horn Hall’s aid in tracking down criminals who escaped from a work gang when a ferry transporting them across the River Olossi capsized. A company of the King’s Spears have tracked the fugitives north into the province of Sardia. The chief marshal explains that Argent Hall is overextended right now and needs Horn Hall to assist.” She glanced toward the large map table placed in the center of the chamber, built to the exact dimensions of the exceptionally detailed map of the Hundred she had inherited from her father when he’d died. “Argent Hall wouldn’t be overextended if that ass Auri hadn’t decided to transfer Sardia out of Horn Hall’s patrol territory to Argent five years ago.”

  “Sardia hasn’t always been part of Argent Hall’s patrol territory?” the young man asked.

  “How long have you been a reeve, Reyad?”

  “Three years.”

  “Always at Argent Hall?”

  “Yes.” He did not sound happy about it.

  She opened her mouth, caught Tarnit’s warning glance, and remembered prudence. “Since King Jehosh appointed him to the office, Chief Marshal Auri has made a number of changes in reeve hall protocol and admin
istration that some of us are cursed sure…” Tarnit coughed. “… are ill advised,” Dannarah finished, although the kindlier word left a sour taste on her tongue.

  The others smiled, amused by her restraint. Reyad’s cheek twitched at a strong emotion she could not interpret. If only Atani were here, he would uncover the young man’s entire history over a cup of tea.

  But Atani wasn’t here and never would be here again.

  The grief always hit without warning like a gust of wind knocking you off your feet. She shut her eyes. Her hand groped up the right-hand edge of the desk to the lacquered tray at the corner where she kept the carved ivory playing pieces, and she gripped one of the little animals so tightly its ridges dug into her palm.

  The swell passed quickly. She hoped no one had noticed, and smiled bitterly as she opened her eyes and her hand to see she had grabbed one of the wolves. She set it down sharply.

  “Then what is this message about King Jehosh I’ve been promised?” she asked, proud of how ordinary her voice sounded.

  “It’s just something I overheard while I was waiting for this message to be written out. A reeve wearing the blue stripes of Copper Hall came in and told Chief Marshal Auri that King Jehosh has returned unexpectedly to the palace. Before he was expected back, I mean.”

  “So the king has arrived safely home from his latest war in the north?”

  Reyad nodded slowly. Dannarah could almost see his mind pacing through the words he had heard so he could report them precisely. Patience and precision were good traits in a reeve. “The Copper Hall reeve said the king reported he’d had a monumental victory over the northern rebels in the country of Ithik Eldim and restored the Hundred’s military governor there. Then the reeve handed Chief Marshal Auri a dispatch and said he had orders from the palace that the chief marshal needed to speed things up.”

  “Speed things up?”

  “Then the clerk gave me my message and I had to leave.”

  “Why are you telling me this, since it wasn’t part of your official dispatch?”

  His gaze shifted guiltily side-to-side so quickly she almost missed it. “The reeves protect the Hundred. So isn’t it the duty of all six marshals to know the whereabouts of the king they serve?”

  She lifted a hand and caught his gaze, using the pressure of her stare to pin him to her will. She had learned this look from her father. “Tell me what you are leaving out.”

  The barest hint of a smile flashed, then vanished, like a man biting down his triumph so no one else will see it. “You are the daughter of King Anjihosh the Glorious Unifier, of blessed memory, is that not right?”

  “Yes.”

  “The sister of King Atani the Law-Giver, of blessed memory.”

  She nodded, picking up the wolf again.

  “Therefore the aunt of King Jehosh the Triumphant, conqueror of the northern barbarians of Ithik Eldim. So when Chief Marshal Auri told that Copper Hall reeve not to let anyone else hear the news of the king’s return yet, I just thought he couldn’t have meant you.”

  Dannarah spun the wolf piece through her fingers, then set it down amid the others, exactly in line. “I like how you make your decisions, Reyad. I’m going to take this patrol myself. Tarnit, put a wing of reeves together. Reyad will accompany us as Argent Hall’s representative. We’ll depart at dawn.”

  Wind rumbling in her ears, Dannarah soared over the Westhal Hills, scouting for the escaped prisoners. Even after forty years as a reeve, patrolling never got old: high above the land, the wind in her face and the sun in her heart.

  She had gotten her wings after all, to everyone’s surprise. Even her own.

  Reeves did not sit astride eagles, of course. Hitched in front, they dangled as from the bird’s breastbone and thus had the land laid out below their feet. There was very little a reeve could not see from the air, and nothing that blocked her vision except her own blindness, her own fears, her own secret desires and thwarted aspirations.

  She reined Terror into a circling pattern. Together with a company of King’s Spears, she and her wing of nine reeves had tracked the fleeing criminals through Sardia to these rugged uninhabited hills blanketed with thick forest cover. It was a good place to hide. An animal trail snaking through a clearing made by a tumble of rocks caught her eye. A sunbeam flashed off a slash of polished metal. Some idiot had dropped a machete in the grass, maybe while running to get out of view.

  A nod of satisfaction was the only gesture she allowed herself. A quick survey showed the other two reeves in her triad, Tarnit and Iyar, flying north and south of her position respectively. She quartered the area, focusing her attention on the trees that ringed the clearing, and glimpsed lines and shapes that might be huts or lean-tos so well hidden beneath the forest canopy that a reeve on regular patrol would never notice them.

  Leaves thrashed at the crown of a stately oak. They bent and rustled with too much weight for a bird: Someone was climbing. She reined Terror to the right just as an arrow spat out of the tree, shot by a desperate fool. The missile fell harmlessly back into the branches and although she circled once—out of arrow range—she saw no sign of the archer.

  It was time to alert the troops.

  She gave three quick tugs on the central jess, and Terror caught an updraft. The view from aloft always exhilarated, that sense of having it all in her grasp. She noted her landmarks: Demon’s Eye Peak to the south; a waterfall to the north; an ancient Ladytree whose canopy marked an old way station on a hill path entirely concealed by forest cover; the clearing with the machete. By the dark clouds piling up in the east along the Westhal Hills it was going to storm soon. Like all reeves she had four signal flags in her quiver. She slipped out the striped flag that meant “Watch and Hold,” and signaled Tarnit and Iyar to remain over the area.

  Leaving them behind, she glided on an air current down to the staging point in the upper reaches of the valley of the River Elshar. From the air the camp of the King’s Spears had the efficient look of a place well guarded by sentries and easy to break down when they needed to move out. She thumped down a prudent distance from the tents. Even so Terror opened her beak and fluffed her feathers to make herself look even larger than she already was, as if the eagle were worried these trifling soldiers wouldn’t respect her. Dannarah hooded her and, stepping out of range of her talons, beckoned to the nearest soldier.

  The brawny young man had the look of the palace about him by the evidence of his curly black hair and a prominent nose not unlike her own. He hesitated before sauntering over, examining her as if surprised to see a woman with gray hair dressed in reeve leathers and carrying a reeve’s baton just as if she were actually a reeve.

  “I need to speak to Chief Tuvas immediately,” she said.

  “Who are you to demand the chief come when you call?” he retorted with a sneer. “You reeves are meant to attend him, not the other way around.”

  “I’m surprised a man who trained hard enough to gain the honor of serving in the king’s elite Spears is so unobservant that he hasn’t noticed me consulting with Chief Tuvas the last few days. Not to mention the marshal’s wings sewn right here on my vest in plain sight of your lazy eyes. Be quick about it.”

  His eyes opened wide as he took a step back, touching two fingers to his forehead in the sign used by worshippers of Beltak to show obedience to the god. He muttered words that she didn’t catch. She tapped her baton onto her open palm. He hustled away.

  It didn’t take long for Chief Tuvas to stride up. He greeted her with proper respect, fist to chest. She shouldn’t have cared that the young soldier who had been rude to her witnessed the gesture, but he did, and she was glad.

  “Marshal Dannarah! You must have news.”

  “I’ve spotted an encampment in the forest.”

  As she described what she’d seen, she studied him. The chief had the broad, flat cheeks and straight black hair of a man descended from one of the Qin soldiers who had guarded King Anjihosh. Theirs were the faces and presence
she still trusted most after all these years, because they reminded her of the men who had unstintingly served her father when she was growing up.

  When she finished her description, the chief nodded. “We’ll strike at once.”

  “They betrayed their position, so they’ll run.”

  “The quicker they scatter, the more chance your reeves can follow them.”

  She got back into the air and became the banner the soldiers tracked as they moved at speed up over the back ridge of the valley and into the wilderness beyond. The site was maybe two mey distant, which they made in half the time ordinary folk would have taken to walk there. A cloudburst swept through but barely slowed the soldiers, although Terror gave a few huffy chirps of displeasure. When the Spears reached the area they went in fast. The heavy tree cover hid the attack from her and wasn’t her responsibility anyway.

  She circled, looking for any sign of people running away from the Spears’ attack.

  But she saw nothing, only a deer and a flap of wings from a disturbed bird. Her instinct for trouble tingled. For days the escaped prisoners had eluded them despite the advantage reeves had in being able to track by air. It was clear they had help from disloyal elements within the local population or, worse, from the demons who were still trying to tear down the peaceful administration her father had set in place sixty years ago.

  She would never let the demons and their allies destroy her father’s legacy. Never.

  On alert for a possible flanking attack or an as-yet-unseen escape route, she made a wide loop south over the hill called Demon’s Eye Peak because its flat crown had a demon’s coil carved into the rock. It had been years since she had patrolled this area, but when she had become a reeve her father had given her the special duty of locating as many demon’s coils as possible, since many were impossible to find unless you were flying.