Sentinelspire

Chapter Twenty-Four

When Lewan reached the door to his room, he was breathing heavily and his legs felt like they had turned to granite. After the Old Man had left him on the mountainside, Sauk had come running up, his eyes as large and hard as river stones, and demanded to know what had been said. Lewan told him everything, even that the Old Man told him to tell everyone and that there was nothing Talieth's conspiracy could do about any of it. When the tale was told, Sauk simply stood there, staring at Lewan and chewing on his bottom lip. Lewan couldn't tell if the half-orc was furious, or terrified out of his mind. A little of both, he decided.

"Impossible," Sauk had said, seemingly to himself, then broke into a long string of curses in his own tongue.

The rant seemed to stoke his agitation rather than calm it, and Sauk had ordered Lewan to get his clothes on. Hadn't even allowed him a moment in the stream to wash the pasty symbols off his skin. Lewan had scarcely pulled on his boots and grabbed Berun's bow before Sauk was pulling him to his feet and rushing him onward. They'd run the whole way back, even after full dark caught them on the mountainside. Lewan's boots were scuffed and his toes hurt from bashing into rocks and roots.

The journey through the statue-haunted passageway had been the worst. Sauk had clutched Lewan's wrist and dragged him through the maze. He'd been none too careful, and they'd brushed up against several statues. More than once, Lewan could have sworn he'd felt a stony hand or claw reach out and brush his shoulder. But perhaps that had simply been his fear and exhaustion overtaking him in the dark.

Back at the fortress, Sauk had barreled through the guards at the gate, knocking one man flat on his behind. He'd pushed Lewan up the stairs to the tower, opened the door, told him, "Get to your rooms and stay there!" then bounded off.

Lewan watched him go until he was little more than a blur in shadows between pools of lamplight. Then he'd made the climb to his room.

He stood before the door-his hair, skin, and clothes drenched with sweat, dust caking him, his chest heaving, and his legs feeling as if they were about to collapse. Lewan was not soft. He'd lived in the wild most of his life, running for miles without rest. But the day had drained him. Physically, emotionally, and spiritually, he was spent. He scarcely had the energy to twist the knob of his door.

Lewan stepped inside, and an array of scents hit him like a blow-spiced candles, cherry wood burning in the hearth, expensive oil burning low in two lamps, an array of blossoms strewn about the room and on the bed, and set in the middle of the floor between the miniature oak and holly, a huge brass tub. Ulaan, wearing a blue silk gown, her hair loose and flowing down her torso, stood next to it. She saw him and smiled.

"Lewan! Oh, you look ready to fall over." She went to him, pulled him into the room, and shut the door behind him. "I've had a bath brought into the room tonight. I knew you'd be tired after a day out on the mountain with Sauk." She dropped her eyes and smiled. "And I thought we might not want to have to walk so far from the bath to bed tonight."

Lewan took her hands and pulled them off him. "Ulaan… I must speak to you."

He saw a slight widening of her eyes, a quick intake of breath-but she hid it quickly. "What is it, Lewan?" she said carefully.

He looked to the bedside table. A platter of food-fruits, bread, white cheese, wine-waited there. She'd even found a sprig of red holly and put it on the edge of the platter. He walked over, threw the bow on the bed, then poured the wine into a goblet and drained it in one gulp. As the warmth began to suffuse his head, he looked to Ulaan, put all the gentleness into his voice he could, and said, "Don't look so worried."

She would not look at him. "Do I have reason to be?"

Lewan put the empty goblet on the platter. He saw that his hand was trembling. "I'm not sending you away if that's what you're thinking."

Ulaan did look up then, her eyes rimmed with tears. She smiled and rushed at him with open arms.

Lewan took a step back and placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her at arm's length. Even through the grime coating his fingers, he could feel how thin her dress was and how soft the skin beneath.

Her eyes narrowed, not so much in hurt as confusion. "Lewan, I…"

"Please, Ulaan. You must listen. We…" Lewan swallowed and took a deep breath. Damn it all! Exhausted as he was, he was still blushing like a little boy. "We cannot… be together. At least not for a while."

"I don't understand. You said you weren't sending me away! You said-"

"No!" Lewan shook his head, cutting her off. "I mean, we can't… you know. Love."

Ulaan sat on the bed. "You don't love me." She seemed to be talking more to herself than him. "Earlier today, I thought… when the Lady Talieth interrupted, I was so sure you were about to tell me y-"

"I love you, Ulaan." There, he had said it, and he felt a surge of pride that he'd said it, plain and simple, no hesitation. "I do. But you must understand. I-"

"If you love me, then why can't we share our love? You said-"

"Ulaan, please!" He said it with more force than he'd intended. "I'm sorry, Ulaan. I'm just so tired, so confused. I can barely think. You must understand, my faith… the ways I was taught, the path of the Oak Father I have sworn to follow…"

He trailed off, struggling for the right words to make her understand. They wouldn't come to him. His exhaustion was pulling him down, and the wine wasn't helping, either.

"I took an oath, Ulaan. Being with you, I… I betrayed that oath. Today, I purified myself, and if I am going to get us out of here, my only hope is to remain pure. To seek the Oak Father's aid. I-"

"Us?" said Ulaan. "Get us out of here. Lewan, what do you mean? You mean… leave?"

She looked at him a long time, then stared at the wall. He could tell she was not seeing the stone, but all the possibilities before her.

"Yes," he said. "Leave the Fortress. Leave Sentinelspire. Come away with me."

She looked at him. "Where?"

"I have no idea," he said. "One problem at a time. But you'll be free. No longer a sla-" He caught himself. "A servant. You'll be with me."

"Your woman?"

"No. You'll he your woman. Free. As for you and me… we'll figure all that out once we're long gone from here. But it will be up to us, not Talieth or Sauk or the Old Man or any other madman who falls from the sky in a puff of smoke, asking for my help."

Ulaan's eyes seemed troubled. "Lewan, you aren't making any sense."

"I know. I'm sorry. I'm tired. So tired."

Talieth lived in a series of opulent rooms in the upper floors of a mid-sized tower that hugged the Dome of Fire. Other than her servants and guards, she was the only resident, and even the servants didn't reside there so much as sleep close enough to be at her beck and call.

Either the two guards at the main door knew Sauk was expected or they saw the expression he wore and quickly stepped aside. One offered a quick bow. The other made sure he was well out of the way before Sauk threw the door open and stormed inside.

The winding passage up the stairs that ringed the interior wall of the tower alternated between pools of light and wells of shadow. Only half the candles were lit, and many of them burned low. The wake Sauk left behind snuffed out several.

Two more guards-Talieth's favorite Damaran and Shou, more elegantly garbed and more heavily armed-stood outside the heavy double doors that led into Talieth's main apartment. Both had been at ease, but seeing Sauk, the Shou stepped forward and the Damaran put a hand to the short sword at his belt.

The Shou raised a hand. "My apologies, Lord Sauk. The Lady forbids any entrance. She is-"

Sauk's foot slammed into the man's gut, knocking every bit of wind out of him. He went down like a wet sack. Sauk stepped over him.

The Damaran drew his blade and held it on guard before him, but his shaking hand showed he was scared.

Sauk stopped so that the blade, trembling slightly, rested lightly on his chest. "You, I'll put out the window if you don't sheathe that steel and step aside." "Lady Talieth ordered-"

"Lady Talieth ordered me to report. You can stand aside and obey her-and me-and sleep in your bed after your watch. Or you can go out the window now. Your choice."

The man took a deep breath, blinked twice, then sheathed his short sword and stepped aside. "Let it be on your head, then," he said.

"It always is," said Sauk. He pulled the door open and stepped inside.

The room held an assortment of couches, a table where Talieth sometimes dined with guests, and two hearths, both burning low. Candles were set about the room, but none were lit. The room was dim, lit only by the dying fires and a lamp set amidst a wreath of apple blossoms on the table.

Kiristen, a Calishite beauty and Talieth's chief maidservant, lounged on a divan by the fire, dozing with an empty goblet in one hand. Hearing the door open, she leaped to her feet, the goblet falling onto the rug.

"Sauk! What are you doing? Out of here, this instant. The Lady has ordered that no-"

"The lady herself ordered me to report the moment I returned." Sauk gave a bow, hoping his sardonic manner was coming through. "I have returned. You may bring the Lady out, or I'll go in."

"She is abed. I will not-"

Sauk started to pass, but she stepped around the divan and in his way. She put both hands on his chest. He stopped.

"She is abed," said Kiristen, then lowered her voice. "But she is not alone. Come back in the morning, Sauk. Please."

Sauk took a deep breath through his nose and looked down at her. "Are you going to move?" "No. Sauk, please list-"

Sauk picked her up by the waist and tossed her over the divan. She landed in a pile of cushions and pillows piled near a couch. Before she could disentangle herself from her skirts, Sauk was at Talieth's bedroom door.

"Sauk!" Kiristen gave a final plea.

Sauk pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"What in holy gods-?" said a man's voice in surprise and exasperation. Valmir was standing before the ornate fireplace, a crystal glass of wine in one hand. He wasn't wearing a stitch of clothing. Seeing Sauk enter the room, Val grabbed a pillow off the couch before him and held it in front of his loins.

Sauk kicked the door shut behind him, cutting off more of Kiristen's protests.

Talieth rose from the couch in front of Val. She glared at Sauk a moment, then grabbed a black silk robe from the couch, threw it on and tied it shut. "What are you doing here?"

"You told me to let you know what happened out there. 'The moment you return,' you said. As you can see, I have returned."

"So I smell," said Val. "Gods, did you run the whole way? You stink like a-"

"Be silent," said Talieth.

Valmir scowled-though Sauk knew he wouldn't have dared had Talieth's back not been to him. He finished his wine and stared daggers at Sauk.

"You have good reason to interrupt us, I take it," Talieth said to Sauk.

"You take it damned right. We've got a severe problem. I was watching the boy do whatever it was he went out there to do, and I saw your father come and speak to him. Had quite a long conversation with Lewan."

"My father?"

"Saw him with my own eyes."

Talieth paced the room, staring into space and chewing on the back of one knuckle. Valmir, who had gone white as a cloud, followed her with his eyes. At last Talieth said, "That's… impossible. It's impossible, Sauk. You know that."

"I do know it. Which means we have a big problem."

"Tell me everything he said."

Lewan knew that if Ulaan put her hands on him or helped him bathe, his resolve would crumble. So he sent her from the room, ostensibly to fetch him clean clothes and a pitcher of water-his head would take no more wine. But in reality, he simply needed her gone while he undressed and scrubbed away the grime of the day. He'd also asked for more blankets.

When she returned, he was clean and almost dry, standing before the fire and wrapped in the thick fur coverlet from the bed. He asked her to turn away while he put on the fresh clothes. She protested at first, insisting that she help him, but she gave in without much argument.

"Ulaan," he said as he pulled on the linen shirt.

"Yes?" She turned around.

"What I said earlier… you can still stay here tonight. Take the bed. But I think it best if I sleep out on the balcony." "The balcony? Why? Won't you-"

"I've spent most of my life sleeping under the stars," he said. "In truth, I've always found this room a bit… close. Besides…" His eyes took in the way her gown accentuated the curves of her body. "The cool air will do me good."

And so he bedded down on the balcony, amidst the ivy and blossoms closed against the night. The breeze off the mountain felt wonderful, and for the first time in many days, he felt somewhat at ease. The purification had done him good.

Then he noticed clouds coming in from the north-a thick blackness blotting out the stars-and lightning flickering in the far distance. Rain by morning.

"Wonderful," he said to himself. He turned back to the open doors, reconsidering a night in the open. Fresh air was one thing. Sleeping in the rain was quite another.

Bur then he saw Ulaan, peeling off her gown before getting into bed. All the candles were out, and the warm light from the fire settling to its rest painted her skin in glowing curves and soft shadows. She saw him watching. She returned his stare and arched one eyebrow. She said nothing, and even though Lewan had known her only a few days, he knew what she was asking. Are you sure?

Lewan took a deep breath, swallowed hard, and closed the balcony doors. Perhaps a cold shower was just what he needed after all.