Mother of Lies

ORLAD CELEBRE

and Waels Borkson ate again as the sun was setting, although their host told them to eat sparingly. Then he led them out to the pasture.

“North.” He pointed, although few stars were visible yet and much of the sky was shrouded in clouds. “That’s Hrada’s spire in Montegola, very nearly due north, see? We’re going this way.”

“Got it,” Waels said. “A tenth west.”

They plodded off over the rain-slick fields and came to a wide river, flowing surprisingly fast for such flat country.

“This is the Puisa.” Eligio pointed upstream. “See that bridge? That’s your landmark. It’s the fourth bridge up from the city.”

Counting up to four in battleform would be tricky, Orlad thought.

“Then we come back to you?”

“Two-fifths east. Follow the guanaco smell.”

“We can backtrack,” Waels said. “Nothing in the world smells like Orlad’s feet.” He added a faint Oof! sound as a fist impacted his ribs.

Eligio had no sense of humor. “When you reach a pool,” he said, “you’re at the city, so keep your heads down. The river enters through five tunnels under the wall. They’re closed at the city end by gratings, and the current is strong enough to pin an extrinsic against them to drown. Understand now why I wouldn’t let your sister come with you, my lord Orlad?”

“You are starting to make sense.”

“Middle grating has been cut. Can you imagine what that cost? Dive, rasp until you’re close to drowning, then battleform to swim back out against the current, surface, recover, repeat. Again and again, all night long, every night for a thirty. Don’t betray this to the Vigaelian scum!”

“Brave men. Were you one of them?”

“No. Had friends who drowned doing it, though. Now, listen! The middle one of the five! At the bottom of the grating! Retroform, because the gap is narrow and there are sharp edges that can rip you. You’ll need your head more than flippers there. We don’t call this the Heroes’ Gate for nothing. After you’re through, float until you see the triple fountain on the right bank. It’s an easy landmark, in the grounds of the palace. Can you tell right from left in battleform?”

“Half the time,” Orlad said.

“Then you’d better be human. If your brother hasn’t left clothes at the fountain, you’d best come back here and try again tomorrow. Do not try to leave downstream. There’s knives on the weir there. Leave by the same way you got in. Broken pot at the fountain means danger. Any questions?”

Waels said, “How many men have entered Celebre this way?”

“How should I know? None from here ever came back to tell me.”

“I was afraid of that.”

Orlad removed his sandals and chlamys, handed them to Eligio. Not ready to enter the river, he sat down in his collar and studied the dark rushing water. Excitement and disbelief fizzed through his veins. He was certainly going into extreme danger, but he was also going to change his life. He was going to lay claim to the coronet wearing a rebel’s collar, while Stralg was still in nominal control of the city.

He realized that Eligio had gone when Waels sat down close and put an arm around him. The night was far from cold, but the contact was welcome.

Orlad said, “I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

“ You, scared? Never!”

“Scared peeless. This is not like King’s Grass. Then I knew I was going to die because my lord had set the hunt on me. I was just so bloody-eyed mad that I had no time to be frightened. I wanted to kill as many as I could before they killed me. This is different. If we have to fight at all, we’ll have failed.”

“A man about to meet his mother for the first time is entitled to feel nervous,” Waels said tactfully.

“You not scared?” Orlad asked.

“I’m always scared. I just follow you and trust you. If you can do it, whatever it is, then I must do it to be worthy of you. Much easier.”

That made it worse. How could he drag Waels into mortal peril just to further his own ambitions?

“Buddy… I want to say… if this doesn’t work out for both of us… I’m very grateful. You’ve taught me so many things-love, loyalty, friendship.”

“We discovered them together.”

“You don’t have to come with me tonight.”

“Yes I do.”

“That’s what I mean. Thanks.” Pause… “Waels?”

“Orlad?”

“You do not have to come with me! I’m only doing this because I don’t want Fabia staking her claim while I’m not around.”

“Nonsense. You’re taking me home to meet your parents.”

Orlad exploded in laughter. Waels returned the punch he owed him. The laughter turned into a wrestling match and they rolled down the bank together into the river.

No Hero had ever managed to swim up the waterfall at Nardalborg, although many had tried. (In winter it froze and the garrison held climbing races on it instead.) The Puisa seemed pleasantly warm by comparison. A standard amphibious warbeast was shaped much like a seal, a black seal in the Florengian case, but it would be folly to waste so much energy when they had a long way to go. Orlad contented himself with webbing his hands and feet and closing off his nostrils. He adopted a leisurely stroke that he could keep up for a couple of pot-boilings if he had to. He could feel Waels moving in the water at his side. Once in a while their heads would break surface together and flash toothy smiles.

He was surprised when the current changed. He surfaced and looked up at the towering walls of Celebre. The pool, already? Then a hand caught his arm. Waels retroformed beside him, with a finger on his lips for silence. He put lips to Orlad’s ear.

“We have company!”

For a moment they drifted together and then Waels pointed downward and sank. They submerged together, holding hands, moving as little as necessary until they reached the bottom and could take hold of weeds as tethers, to stop them floating back up. Starlight failed to reach down there, so far as human eyes could see, but a Hero’s eyes were negotiable. In a moment Orlad made out the faint glow of the surface. He saw fish… driftwood… and then a line of dark shapes heading toward the city. He wondered how Waels had known.

Soon after that the two strangers surfaced in some reeds near the shore. “Florengians?” Waels whispered.

“Think so. Yes. Not Stralg, then. Mutineer didn’t tell us he kept a force in the city.”

“Maybe it’s new.”

“Maybe it is.” Orlad wondered about treachery, but he could have been captured much more easily at Montegola. “Let’s go and see what’s happening. If we’re parted, we’ll meet at the triple fountain. If you find a broken pot there, head straight back to Eligio’s.”