17. Chapter 17

Chapter seventeen

The smell made Tsaria want to gag even before he was fully conscious, and he knew he was back in the dungeon. Tears pricked at his closed eyelids. How could Alain have done this? If he had feared for his children’s lives, then Tsaria didn’t blame him, but as his awareness solidified, so did his memories. He doubted if Alain even had children. Who wouldn’t know their own children’s names? Whispers crept into his thoughts that he belatedly realized were actual voices. He was surprised he couldn’t hear the clang of the doors, or the rattle of chains as the other prisoners tried to move about.

“You think he’s bitten the black yarrow?” came a voice, and Tsaria idly wondered which prisoner they meant. Yarrow was a simple white flower that grew everywhere. The black yarrow was similar but so named because it was deadly. It had been used over the summers as a method of suicide. Less than half a bell after eating the dark gray, almost black petals, the person would start to convulse. It was a horrific way to die, but readily available. The phrase “biting the black yarrow” came to mean killing yourself, or attempting it.

“Nah, was an ambush, so I heard.”

“But why did Moxie bring ‘im in ‘ere, then? Why not leave ‘im on the road?”

“Moxie reckons someone wants ‘im. Might even get coin for his return.”

“An’ what we s’posed to do with ‘im in meantime?”

The second voice was silent, but Tsaria could imagine a shrug.

“Shouldn’t he be tied up, then?”

This time, the second voice laughed. “You know he’d be dead if he ever tried to find his way out.”

That was odd. Find his way out? How was he supposed to do that in the dungeon? Trying to take shallow breaths because of the stench, he cautiously cracked an eyelid. He wasn’t surprised at the stone wall. He’d expected that. And judging from the cold, hard ground, he hadn’t even gotten a pallet. The unexpected candlelight shining right into his eyes made pain shoot into his head so hard he wanted to vomit, and he was unable to swallow down the whine.

“Moxie!” one of them shouted way too loudly for Tsaria to stomach, and he just managed to roll slightly before he vomited then passed out again.

The next time he woke, he couldn’t stop shivering. He didn’t know how long he’d been here or even where here was, because it wasn’t in the palace dungeons. He was aware enough to know that, and his head hurt a little less. He still felt wretched, and he shook constantly from the cold.

“If Moxie wants him alive, we’re gonna have to cover him wi’ something.” Tsaria could barely process the words. “‘es freezing.”

Tsaria thought it worth risking trying to open his eyes again, and he managed it…almost. He couldn’t see much of anything, though.

“Tell Moxie ‘es awake.” Tsaria heard running footsteps, but didn’t honestly care. For a long moment, he wished he could just close his eyes and never wake up.

Kamir.

How could he have been so foolish as to believe what Alain said? What had he done? For too long a moment, his throat tightened so much he doubted he could swallow if he ever got any water, and of course as soon as that thought hit him, water was all he desperately wanted.

“Here.” The female voice surprised him so much he opened his eyes and took in the leather pouch tipped toward his lips. He eagerly parted them and greedily drank the tepid, stale water. He spared a thought for poison, but at that moment he wasn’t sure he would have cared. The pouch moved away, and he strained to follow it, before a hand pressed his shoulder. “Easy, lad. You’ll be sick if you drink too fast.”

Again, stunned to hear a female voice, he focused on what he could see in the shadows cast by the rushlight she carried. He recognized the faint smell of the dried pith of the rush plant and whatever animal fat it had been dipped in. They used them on the farm since wax candles were way too expensive.

Tsaria gazed up at her and she let him with no signs of discomfort. He would put her in her fifties but didn’t doubt here—wherever here was—was as hard on the body as the fields, or the other back-breaking work the poor had no choice but to do. Her brown skin and eyes didn’t give him much hint at her heritage, and her head was shaved like most of the poor that didn’t want it riddled with lice. She wore cheap breeches and a loose man’s shirt.

She also had two throwing knives tucked into her belt. He met her implacable gaze once more and didn’t doubt she knew how to use them.

“Where am I?”

She tipped her head to the side as if contemplating her answer, but then she grunted as if making a decision. “You’re under the city.”

Tsaria gaped. “Rajpur?” He was in the sewers? That accounted for the goddess-awful smell.

“But how—” The woman he presumed to be Moxie raised a hand. It didn’t hold a blade, but it was still effective at silencing him.

“Not how this works. We take turns. I answered your question. Now you answer mine.”

Knowing he had no choice if he hoped to get out of here, he nodded, then winced, wishing he hadn’t moved his head.

“Why are you so important that the guards from Cadmeera and Rajpur were willing to fight and die over you?”

Tsaria didn’t know where to start, or even if he should. Die? He closed his eyes in horror. People had died because he had made such a rash decision. “I am a servant,” he answered. “Brought along with the emir’s party while he travels.” What could he say? He didn’t know her, and she’d likely sell him out to Lord Anslar.

“I didn’t ask who you were, but why you were important.” She unsheathed one of the knives from her belt.

Tsaria didn’t answer. She gazed at him, and he returned her look. This was his mess, and he wouldn’t involve Kamir. “Can you at least tell me how I came to be here?” She arched an eyebrow. “I refuse to say anything that may get another killed.” He tried to sound apologetic.

She sighed and stood. “You’ve been here two days. My lads saw the standoff as the soldiers from Rajpur seemed to think they should take you and the Cadmeeran troops arrived and disagreed. The man in the wagon with you ran as soon as the battle started. By the time we found you, you’d been lying in the ditch half the night.”

So Alain had escaped. He wouldn’t wish death on him, but it was clear where his loyalties lay.

“Did they all die?” he whispered, ashamed of the catch in his voice.

She narrowed her eyes as if surprised he would care. “It was luck we happened upon it first, before more guards arrived. My lads hid until it was over then reported it to me. We didn’t see you at first. You were alive, so we brought you here. The least you can do is pay for making sure neither side got their hands on you.”

“I’m a pleasure slave,” he admitted.

“Well, shite ,” Moxie swore. “But that still doesn’t explain why they were fighting over you.”

No, it didn’t. “I am sure the emir would pay for my safe return, but he has many enemies. I don’t know who you could trust.” It wasn’t like she could just walk up to the palace and ask. Besides, Kamir wasn’t even there.

“You’re lying,” Moxie said and stood up. She pointed to the dark tunnel ahead. “That’s the only direction to go, but even if you attempted it in the condition you’re in, you wouldn’t make it before one of the other gangs found you. And they won’t be giving you water, they’d just pass you around until you wished for death. You get an idea of how I can make money enough to make it worth my while to get you out of here, I’m all ears.”

She turned, and he opened his mouth but closed it again. He didn’t know anyone that they could get to in Rajpur that would help him. Tsaria closed his eyes and listened to her steps until they grew silent.

Tsaria woke several more times over the next few days. He was given water and stale bread he couldn’t stomach, and two big lads took him to the run off when he had to relieve himself. Moxie had been back twice, but there was nothing he could say. He didn’t trust anyone in the palace, and Cadmeera was too far. He had no coin to tempt them to make a journey, and she flatly refused to send any of her lads as she called them. It didn’t matter what name he dropped. The fact was, she wasn’t convinced they wouldn’t simply be thrown in a cell, and Tsaria had to agree with her. The guards wouldn’t tell those higher up about every beggar that came to the gates.

Tsaria was desperate. He had no idea how many days he had been here, but knew if he didn’t get to Kamir and somehow help him find his dragon, Kamir would die, and he couldn’t let that happen. No one from the pleasure house he trusted at all still lived. No one at the palace. And his brother had already proven how trustworthy he was.

The fact was, he had no one.

And the one person he desperately wanted, Tsaria had betrayed.

In the end, Moxie spent most of her day by his side simply to keep the rats off him. The fact was, she couldn’t even show her face where it might be recognized, so the palace was out. If he had been fully conscious, he might have felt the urge to survive, but between the head injury and the cold, she knew he’d succumbed to a fever. He would die.

Anger that had been her constant companion for thirty summers threatened to boil over. What a waste. How many children had she sat with until they too died? Only the strongest survived down here, and this one didn’t have the will to live.

“Moxie?”

She turned and smiled at Pip. They’d been with her the longest, and at twenty-three, could easily go and find themselves a wife or a husband, but Pip said they’d be bored. Pip ran their own crew and mostly worked the festivals and the markets. They had a crew of five and excelled in everything from simple purse-lifting to seduction and then blackmail.

Pip’s dark-brown eyes ran over the slave’s body. It was obvious from his shivers and the sweat pouring off him that he had a fever. Moxie had kept him dry best she could. “I was in the Duchess, just listening.”

Two evenings a week, Pip sat in the tavern—The Grand Duchess—and listened to gossip. It was a hive of information, from which visiting lords ordered local tack repair for their horses to which large house was all aflutter with some celebration and may be taking on extra maids. That could be a very lucrative play. Maids were often invisible and got into all the chambers.

“And?” Moxie prompted, trying to dribble a little water between the slave’s cracked lips.

“There was a Cadmeeran traveler there.”

Moxie looked up at Pip right away. “Cadmeeran?”

“His accent slipped a couple of times, but he was trying to get people talking about the dead soldiers.” Pip said. “Made out like it was just gossip but speculated about one of the missing servants.”

Moxie stilled. “The palace never said that anyone was still alive or missing.” They’d all kept their ears open in case of a reward, but there’d been nothing.

“And he specified servant,” Pip said.

Moxie sat back on her heels and looked at the lad. He hadn’t been conscious since yesterday and she’d even had some of them get more straw from the inn’s stables in return for mucking out the guest’s horses so he wasn’t lying on the cold floor. But she knew if he didn’t get some sort of medicine soon, he would die. It might already be too late.

“Your decision. If you can find him, blindfold him and bring him here if you think he can be trusted.”

Tam sat and nursed an ale for the third night running. He’d gone around all the inns on the edge of the city because the poor were likely to talk for coin. He’d had no luck, and they were running out of time. Kamir had to leave for Rajpur tonight to stop the slaughter of the innocents promised by that evil bastard Gabar.

He’d even found Tsaria’s brother, or what was left of him with his throat slit, behind a pleasure house. Not that he was sorry. The bastard had betrayed them. They’d heard about the farm, riddled with debt because of poor management. Apparently, his wife had run off with a peddler the previous summer and there were no children. The problem was they had no idea if Tsaria was alive. Kamir was insistent he was, but Attiker had confided when Kamir had gone in to see to the children that he doubted it.

And Jael had gone missing. Flynn and Candy had with great reluctance admitted that they’d shown Jael the secret passage in the palace that apparently led to the kitchen because Cookie deliberately left treats out for them, but neither knew where Jael had gone. Ash had undertaken a sweep of the passages himself, as they had to remain secret, but there was no sign of him. When they got Tsaria back he would be gutted. Attiker was a mess, and convinced he’d failed the child as well as Tsaria.

Tam had been given two of the swiftest horses and there had been a third waiting for him to ride the last leg. He was currently tucked in a corner relatively close to the hearth, even though the fire had burned down, and he didn’t know what to do next. He’d tried all the pleasure houses and burned through the cash his highness had given him to no avail. This was his last chance, and he was sitting here praying for a miracle.

He dropped his gaze as he sensed it, and sure enough, a rat poked its head out through a missing brick. Rats were such misunderstood creatures. Sure, they could carry the plague, but how was that any different from the pestilence some humans thought they had the right to wreak on others?

As he watched, the rat sniffed the air, then simply stilled and seemed to look at him. Taking a chance, Tam bent and extended his hand and the rat ran right onto it. He automatically tucked it into his pocket, as they liked dark corners.

Animals talked in images. Hard to understand sometimes, but he watched in his mind as Tsaria was carried by what looked like youngsters into what was clearly the sewer system. Then more images of a woman holding a blade. Then another that made Tam draw in a sharp breath. Tsaria looked dead, but then he drew a rattling looking breath.

“Mind if I sit?”

Tam cursed because he’d been so taken up with the fact that Tsaria could soon be dead, he’d let his guard down and allowed someone to approach him unaware. Rookie mistake and he knew better.

The rat jumped out of his pocket and scuttled away. “Help yourself,” Tam said and picked up his glass to drain it. It might be worth trying the other inns.

“I understand you’ve been asking a lot of questions.”

Which was a lie. He never asked direct questions. He steered conversations so other people asked them. But this time he hadn’t had time to go slow and careful and had been reckless. From what he’d seen, Tsaria was near death, if not already gone.

“Look,” Tam said. “I don’t have time to be all cagey and dance around the subject. If you can help me, good. If not, I’m going to try to find someone who can.”

“Name’s Pip. I have what you’ve been looking for, but it will cost—”

“I don’t fucking care,” Tam spat out and got to his feet. “The thing I’ve been looking for might be the answer to stop not only a war, but also to save a great many from poverty or slavery. Help me or not, but I don’t have time to fuck about.”

Pip also stood. “I will have to blindfold you.”

Tam shrugged. In his heart he knew time was running out for Tsaria, if it wasn’t already too late.