Брайан Макклеллан - Blood of Empire

But such was Michel’s experience with aliases – they seemed unnecessary until suddenly one saved your life.

She continued, “Have you figured out how to get us out of here yet?”

Michel grimaced. Ichtracia had, to this point, taken their entire predicament rather well. She even seemed to enjoy playing the role of an anonymous widow, relishing every set of eyes that slid past her without a flicker of recognition. But the sight of the pulped corpse of her grandfather’s bodyguard was still fresh in Michel’s mind, along with her demand that she be taken to her sister. He was as cognizant as ever of the power imbalance between them and feared the moment her patience ran out.

“I have not,” he answered her. Something passed behind her eyes that made the base of his spine itch. He gave her his most charming smile. “I’m trying.”

“I’m sure you are.” She didn’t sound convinced. “Any news from the war?”

Michel came around and dropped onto the bench, waiting until she’d returned to her seat before he said, “A pitload of rumors. Lindet has retaken the Hammer and is pushing east across Fatrasta. Her army is immense but mostly conscripts, and the Dynize are rallying their field armies to put her down.” He frowned. “There are a lot of conflicting reports coming out of the north – a whole Dynize field army disappeared. Another army has New Adopest under siege and is expected to take it and come south by the end of next week.” To be honest, he was worried about that army. If they skirted the coast, they could march right past this little town, and Michel was not thrilled about the idea of thirty thousand Dynize or more, along with Privileged and bone-eyes, camped out nearby. Ichtracia claimed she could hide from any sorcery, but he didn’t want to put that to the test up close.

“Anything out of Landfall?”

“Just troop consolidation. Sedial is building a fortress around the godstone and using Fatrastan labor to do it. Nobody knows how many Kressians and Palo he’s hired, but rumor has it they’re being paid and fed well, so there’s not a lot of complaining.”

Ichtracia sniffed. “You seem surprised that the Palo are being treated well.”

“We’ve always been second-class citizens at best,” Michel answered. “Slaves and subhumans at worst.” He felt something else on the tip of his tongue – the guarded secret that the Blackhat je Tura had told him just before his death. For weeks he’d wanted to ask Ichtracia what she knew of her grandfather’s attempts to activate the godstone, and for weeks he’d suppressed that urge. He wasn’t sure whether he was worried she’d have no new information for him – or worried that she knew all about it.

“The Palo are Dynize cousins,” Ichtracia said. “He won’t treat them as well as our own people, of course, but they aren’t exactly foreigners, either.” She frowned. “A fortress around the godstone. I wonder if he’s truly worried about Lindet and her conscript armies. Or if there’s something else he’s up to.”

“No clue,” Michel answered, studying the side of Ichtracia’s face. Did she know? Was she lying to him this very moment? They’d been lovers and companions for some time now, but there were still a great many walls between them – and for good reason. He tried to shrug it off. It didn’t matter. His only task now was to figure out a way to get them out of this town and across to the other side of the continent. Once he reunited her with Ka-poel, he could get back to Landfall and try to find out the truth.

The creak of the chapel door gave Michel a little jump, and he resisted the urge to look over his shoulder as Ichtracia leaned forward and assumed the role of praying widow. Michel touched her shoulder as if in comfort, then got to his feet. If he left now, he’d have a couple hours listening to rumors in the pub before his afternoon shift.

He froze at the sight of the man standing just inside the chapel door, blinking several times to make sure that his eyes hadn’t tricked him. “Taniel?” he choked out.

Taniel Two-shot looked like he’d aged a decade in the few months since they’d last spoken. His riding clothes were filthy, his shoulders slumped, and his face was drawn out and haggard. A spot of silver had appeared at his temples and he gave Michel a tired smile. “Hello, Michel.” He ran a hand through his hair. “You really are a damned chameleon. I would have walked right out of here without recognizing you if you hadn’t said my name.”

“What the pit happened to you?” Michel asked, slipping past Ichtracia and into the aisle.

“I fought a couple of Dynize brigades,” Taniel said. It sounded like a joke, but he didn’t smile when he said it. “I may have overdone it a bit.” His eyes slid to Ichtracia, then back to Michel.

Ichtracia had gotten to her feet and now stared at Taniel in the same way Michel might have eyed an adder slithering through the door. Her fingers twitched as if for the Privileged gloves in her pockets. A look of uncertainty crossed her face. Michel cleared his throat. “Taniel, Ichtracia. Ichtracia, Taniel.”

“Ichtracia,” Taniel said, rolling the name across his tongue. “This is our mole?”

“I’m your sister-in-law, as I understand it,” Ichtracia said flatly.

Taniel eyeballed her right back. “I thought your name was Mara.”

“A nickname,” Michel explained. “It was a pain in the ass to find her, but I did. Why didn’t you tell me she was Ka-poel’s sister?” He hadn’t meant to ask – taking an accusatory tone with Taniel never ended well. But the question just kind of slipped out.

Taniel scowled for a moment before letting out a tired sigh. “I didn’t think you needed to know.”

“It might have narrowed things down.” Michel heard his own tone rising. All the annoyance he’d felt over the secrecy, no matter whether it was important or not, began to slip through. “You also could have told me she was a Privileged.”

“That’s right.” Taniel cocked his head as if listening to some distant sound. “You’re hiding it very well. I didn’t sense anything when I came through the door.”

“I’ve practiced a lot,” Ichtracia said. Her tone had gone from flat to annoyed. “So you’re the god-slayer?”

Taniel’s expression turned serious. “What have you been telling her?” he asked.

Michel threw up his hands, but Ichtracia answered before he could. “He hasn’t told me anything. The Dynize have spies all over the world. You were supposed to have died ten years ago. When Michel told me who he worked for – who my sister is married to – I couldn’t help but assume that you managed to finish the job you started on Kresimir.”

Taniel snorted and walked to the last pew in the back of the chapel, sinking into it. “Lots of rumors,” he said wearily. “I’m sorry about the misdirection, Michel. Pole and I decided together that it was best you figure out who and what Mar… Ichtracia was on your own. All we had to go on was the name Mara. A nickname, you say?”

“Something that our grandfather used to call us both as children,” Ichtracia said. “It means we were his little sacrifices.”

Taniel’s apologetic smile switched from Michel to Ichtracia. “I see. Thank you for joining Michel. I can only imagine that we have a lot to catch up on about each other. And that you want to see your sister.”

“Where is she?” A note of eagerness entered Ichtracia’s voice.

Taniel hesitated. “West. I’m on my way to find her.”

Michel watched Ichtracia. He wanted to tell her that she was in the presence of a great man. That she should show a little respect. But he was just annoyed enough at Taniel to keep his mouth shut. Besides, Ichtracia was no slouch herself. “Speaking of finding,” he said. “How did you find us?”