They had stolen a few hours’ rest in a hayloft. Dawn was near and they must make themselves respectable, or relatively so. Somewhere Thinal had acquired a razor. With that he and Rap had already trimmed each other’s hair. Little Chicken flatly refused to do anything about the straggly bristles round his mouth and Rap knew better than to suggest a haircut for him. No goblin would submit to that, and probably nothing less than an Imperial cohort could now impose it on this one. He had agreed to hide his face under a wide-brimmed straw hat. That would have to do, although he would be a conspicuous rarity in Faerie. Fortunately his beloved silk pants had failed to survive another day in shrubbery, and now he wore peasants’ hessian like the others.
Their shabby assortment of clothes would attract no comment, having been acquired locally by the greatest burglary team in all Pandemia—Thinal the scrounger and Rap, the dog’s best friend. There had been no further work for the third member of the group, the troll-killing strong-arm man.
Rap rose and went down the ladder to visit the bushes. He wondered where in his travels he had lost his conscience. At Raven totem, perhaps, when he had been driven by starvation to the larder? Or maybe it was still present and merely too illused to speak up; he hated this vagabond existence. He would have felt happier had Thinal confined his attentions to the rich in their grand plantation houses, but mostly he had preyed upon the humble. Those scrawny, overworked folk must be hard-put to feed even their own children without having to provide involuntary charity to a gang of robbers.
By the time he returned, Thinal had scraped some of the stubble from his face and seemed content to keep the rest. Shaving made his acne bleed.
“Ready?” he said, glancing around. “We can leave all this stuff. We’ll buy better at the market.”
“Not ready,” Rap said. “I think we ought to have a word with Sagorn first.”
Thinal considered that, his rodent eyes narrowing. “Not much point yet. Wait till we’ve got some money and decent clothes—that’s what he’d tell us to do. Then we can see what he suggests.” He leered. “Me, I’ll go for a comfortable bed and a couple of girls, I think. Haven’t had any of that since before you were born, laddie. You do realize I’m old enough to be your great-grandfather, don’t you? No, Sagorn can wait. Let’s go.”
He sprang up and headed for the ladder. Rap followed uneasily. Trekking through woods and jungle was over. Ahead lay Milflor—and ships—but he distrusted this new cockiness in the imp as much as he distrusted the goblin’s amused disdain. No matter what his birthdate had been, Thinal was physically no older than Rap and now he was taking a juvenile pride in his new accomplishments as a woodsman, and also relishing a return to his accustomed city environment. If overconfidence led him into making an error in the town like the one he had made with the troll, then even Little Chicken would not be able to produce a miracle rescue.
No, Rap’s conscience was still there. It hadn’t forgotten the troll.
5
As the sun was cowering low over the distant ranges, Azak led his troop northward along the coast from the dilapidated fishing village that had been its last stop. Inos was becoming worried, very worried. She had learned enough of the geography to know that the palace lay a long way from the sea. Obviously she was not going to be returned to the palace that evening. Azak never explained his plans and she would not inquire, but today’s unusual interest in her company was beginning to seem very ominous. He had been paying her compliments, even if he had insulted her a few times, also. If he thought her beautiful when angry, then how angry—or frightened—did he plan to make her?
Kade would be alarmed when Inos failed to return, and also scandalized. Kade worried about appearances. Inos cared more about realities, and the realities of this situation were becoming disturbing.
The road had almost vanished, as the horses plodded wearily between sand dunes matted with coarse grass. The air was humid and salty. Nearby, but out of sight, waves fell on a beach with regular roars that were hypnotic after a long day’s exertion. She ached from a long day in the saddle, her face burned from wind and sun.
He broke the long silence. “So I have shown you the sights, Queen Inosolan. What do you think of them?”
“I . . . I was thinking more of great buildings and scenery.”
“Buildings? Scenery? A kingdom is not made of those. A kingdom is people! Now answer. And be honest.”
Honest? “They are wretched—sick and overworked. Half starved, some of them. “ She waited for the earthquake.
“Exactly—”
She blinked with astonishment. He was staring bleakly ahead, not looking at her.
“Are the taxes really so high?” she asked, marveling at her own courage.
“Obscenely high.”
“Why don’t you reduce them?”
“The taxes are needed to support the palace.” She had guessed that. ”All those princes?”
“Parasites?” He sneered down at her. “Yes, princes are expensive and produce nothing. I should cut costs, you think?” Heart in mouth, Inos said, “Drastically.”
“Then I should be fortunate if the last thing I felt was merely Kar’s fingers on my eyelid.” He laughed at her expression. “I can’t fight them all. I would not survive a week.”
“Is there nothing you can do? They are your people.”
“I know that, wench! Do you think I don’t care? Yes, there is something I could do—if I can ever get the bitch sorceress out of my palace and be a free man again.”
For a moment conversation became impossible as they urged their mounts up a steep dune. Inos caught a glimpse of water to the west, also, and her fear grew markedly.
“What would you do?” she asked, when she was able to reach his side again. “If you were rid of Rasha, what would you do?” Her neck was stiff with looking up at him so much. “Make war.”
Inos was both shocked and disappointed. She had thought better of him, somehow. “War? War never helps the people! Death and destruction and rape and . . .”
“War on Shuggaran—the next kingdom north. They can endure the death and so on. It is a bigger land, although less fair.”
“Then they will smash you.”
He shrugged. “It is possible, but my people would still be better off, I think. The two kingdoms could be ruled as one, easily. Shuggaran’s royal family is even more bloated than mine. I would extirpate them. Then twice as many peasants support half as many princes. Taxes could be cut.”
“They might extirpate you.”
“If I lost, that would be their right. The peasants gain either way. Besides, the bazaars hum with talk of an Imperial campaign in Zark. That would mean my war would have to wait. Buildings, you said?”
He halted and sprang from his horse. Inos dismounted more circumspectly.
They had come to the end of a headland, with water spread out in three directions. To the north, dhows were slipping in through the harbor mouth, wafted by the evening breeze. Eastward, with perfect timing, a full moon was rising huge from the sea. To the west lay the sparkling waters of the bay, and beyond that the city of Arakkaran clambered up the hillside on steps and ledges, shadowed already. At the high edge of the plateau, the domes and spiky towers of the palace stood dark against the sunset and the jagged outline of the desert range.
For a moment sheer beauty left Inos speechless. Then she said, “Oh, Azak! It’s gorgeous!”
“Wait until dawn. Then you will see the glory of my city.”
“Where do we. . .”
Azak pointed down to an encampment of silken tents on the beach facing the harbor. A small boat was unloading people at a decrepit old jetty, but already a fire crackled and smoked on the sand and she could identify a goat on the spit. This had all been very carefully arranged. Even to the moon, perhaps.
“The small tent is yours, Inos.” His eyes flickered in mockery and amusement. “Zana will take care of your needs.”
“Zana is here?”
He chuckled then, a low and very masculine noise that she had not heard from him before. “You needn’t worry about being royally raped.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You’ve been turning greener and greener for the last hour.”
“We must make a striking couple, Red Face!”
He bellowed with laughter, and she felt herself blush, even as the knot of her anxiety fell loose. She ached, she was grubby and weary, and she felt wonderful.
“Azak, it’s been a marvelous day!”
“And you hated most of it. Don’t argue. I promised you a lesson in ruling, the seamier side of the business.”