The Sundering: The Sentinel Part 2

"That is most uncalled for," Elira snapped. She glanced toward both doors to make certain no servants were eavesdropping, then leaned closer and spoke quietly. "Your father is merely looking toward the future. After Cormyr falls-and it will-the people will need a king in exile to keep their hopes alive."

"And do you actually expect the people to find hope in a coward?" Elira glared. "If I were you," she warned, "I'd be mindful of that tongue of yours. It's the reason you are still unmarried at four-and-twenty-and it's why Aubrin has refused to honor your secret understanding."

"Mother, there is no understanding-secret or otherwise," Arietta said. "I wish you would stop telling people that. He said four words to me, and not one of them implied love."

"Love? Pshaw." If Elira had noticed the catch in her daughter's voice, she betrayed no sign of it. "Love is for people who don't matter. You, my daughter, are a Seasilver."

"Which is why I would never swear a false vow," Arietta said, "or accept one from anyone else."

"Vows? Pshaw!" Elira threw up her hands in exasperation. "This foolishness has gone on long enough. I'll see you aboard the Wyvern, Arietta." She rose and started for the door. "We set sail within the half hour."

"Thank you for the update," Arietta said, also rising. "But I have decided to stay."

Elira waved a hand over her shoulder dismissively. "Your father is not giving you that choice." Upon reaching the anteroom, Elira stopped and turned, c.o.c.king her head as if a thought had just occurred to her. Her voice softened. "He says you have enough s.p.a.ce in your cabin for ten trunks." She gave a little smile. "How would he know if one of those trunks held Odelia?"

Arietta's stomach grew cold. "I know what you're doing, Mother." Elira's suggestion was, of course, a manipulative ploy. If Arietta agreed to come along nicely, her mother would look the other way and allow her to smuggle Odelia aboard. If not ... well, then Odelia's abandonment would be on Arietta's shoulders. "It won't work."

Elira shrugged. "The girl's future is yours to decide," she said. "But tell me, Daughter, have you forgotten the teachings of Siamorphe?"

"You know that I have not."

"And doesn't she teach us that it is the duty of all va.s.sals to obey the commands of their liege?"

Arietta began to feel ill. "Of course."

"Well, there you have it. Farnig is your liege as well as your father. To disobey him is to disobey your G.o.ddess."

"But my liege has duties, too," Arietta objected. "Father should be leading the fight, not running from it with every bauble he owns."

"What good would it do for him to throw away his life and his treasure? That would only bolster the enemy further. You mustn't defy your father, Arietta, not in this. He always says that you are his greatest treasure-and he won't lose you to the Shadovar, either."

Arietta met her mother's gaze. "It would be better if he treasured the people of Ma.r.s.ember."

"Better for the Shadovar, I think," Elira countered. "Thirty minutes, Arietta. I'll send someone to fetch your trunks."

Elira strode across the anteroom and struck the door with the heel of her hand, causing a surprisingly loud boom for such a thin woman. Again, the lock clacked open. The two guards slowly opened the door and peered inside, as though they feared Arietta might be waiting to attack or bolt past her mother.

Arietta shook her head in exasperation. Her father had been keeping her a near prisoner for almost a month now, ever since the sergeant of his guards had discovered her in a tavern one night, disguised as a common minstrel and singing onstage. Arietta had tried to bribe the man to keep her secret, but he had pocketed her coin and used it to prove the truth of his story when he told her father. As a reward, her father had tripled the payment.

With the door locked again behind her, Arietta turned and found Odelia holding a seldom-worn gown in her arms. From her hopeful expression, it was obvious she had been eavesdropping. Elira's plan to make her a stowaway was the girl's best hope of survival.

"So, you've heard?" Arietta asked, knowing that Odelia would never be so bold as to bring up the subject herself. "My father says we have room for ten trunks."

"Then ... you may have some difficult choices to make," Odelia said carefully. "I have already packed fifteen."

"You may choose which trunks will stay and which will go," Arietta said. "Just make certain you can hide inside one of them."

"Are you sure?" Odelia asked, her face brightening. "I know it's your mother's idea, but if your father learns that you have defied him yet again-"

"We don't have much time," Arietta interrupted. The last thing she wanted to discuss was obedience to her father. "You do want to go to Elversult, do you not?"

Odelia was quick to nod. "Of course, my lady," she said. "My place is at your side."

"Then you worry about the trunks, and let me worry about the grand duke," Arietta said, ignoring the question of whether she would be going to Elversult. She was a Chosen of Siamorphe, which made it her duty to inspire her people and obey her liege. It was not clear to her yet how she could do both, but she was determined to find a way. "Just be sure you can open your trunk from the inside."

Odelia looked surprised. "Won't you be able to let me out?"

"Best to play it safe, I think," Arietta said with a shrug.

A m.u.f.fled clamor sounded from somewhere down in the streets, and a man's voice called for the crowd to make way.

"Finish the packing," Arietta said, heading to the balcony to investigate. A man was charging along the opposite side of Deepwater Ca.n.a.l, heading east toward the bridge. He looked like a typical thug of the Ma.r.s.ember Watch, carrying a greatsword in a single hand and bellowing for people to clear his path. Arietta saw no one fleeing directly ahead of him. But on High Bridge Road, a red-haired woman and a short disheveled man had just emerged from a narrow footlane to the north, and they were headed south toward the ca.n.a.l. It appeared the big watchman was rus.h.i.+ng to intercept the pair before they reached the bridge.

The two citizens were clearly in a hurry; in fact, the man looked utterly panicked. But the red-haired woman had an air of refinement, and she was dressed in a silk tunic that appeared to be both finely tailored and cinched by a silver belt. The watchman, on the other hand, belonged to an organization filled with notorious brutes who often abused their power. If there was a criminal below, Arietta suspected it was the man wearing the armor and cape.

Remaining at the bal.u.s.trade, she called over her shoulder. "Odelia! Bring my bow and quiver!"

Odelia stepped out of the dressing room, looking confused and harried. "My apologies, but did you ask for-"

"Bow and quiver!" Arietta pointed toward the bedchamber, where she kept her most precious possessions-her weapons and her lyre. "Quickly!" she commanded. "A gentlewoman's life may depend on it."

When Arietta looked back to the streets, the woman and her slovenly companion were already racing onto Deepwater Bridge. The watchman was quickly closing in from the side, still bellowing and knocking people out of his way. He vaulted over a mule cart and landed near the foot of the bridge. But instead of turning to cross the ca.n.a.l, he stopped and looked up the footlane from which the woman and strange little man had come.

For an instant, Arietta thought the watchman might be waiting for the rest of his troop. But then he brought the giant sword around in a middle guard and stood at the foot of the bridge, turning his back on the fleeing pair. Arietta began to wonder if she had misjudged the situation. Could he possibly be protecting the woman?

A blue aura shone around the hilt of the watchman's sword, and he sank into a defensive stance, as if bracing to meet a charge. For a moment, none came, then two dark silhouettes emerged from the footlane, their forms swaddled in shadow. When they saw the watchman, they paused, and a third figure emerged from the footlane to join them. This one had two dots of steel-blue light s.h.i.+ning out from beneath his hood.

A shade of Netheril, if one of Arietta's former suitors was to be believed. A Purple Dragon, the fellow had been fond of trying to impress her with his experiences fighting off Netherese border raids, and he had told her that shades could always be identified by their lambent eyes. He had even named the eye color of several of the princes, but Arietta had already grown weary of his bragging and stopped paying attention.

"Odelia!" Arietta called, swinging her hand behind her. "My-"

Arietta felt a shaft of polished yew slapping into her palm, and she brought the bow in front of her to string it. The trio of shades had started to advance again, moving cautiously. By the time she had flipped the bow and slipped the string over the opposite tip, the leader was whipping one hand forward in the air, his blue-gray eyes fixed on the watchman.

A crescent-shaped blade of shadow materialized in front of the shadow warriors and came spinning, past half a dozen people on High Bridge Road. One unfortunate man dropped to his knees, clutching his side. Unimpeded, the dark disc continued toward the watchman, who whipped his heavy sword downward to block. When the disc hit his blade, the shadow divided into two pieces that wobbled past on either side, then dissipated against the stone railing of the bridge. The few people remaining on the street screamed and scattered.

Arietta reached back again with her hand. Before she could even say "arrow," she felt a thick shaft slap into her palm. She quickly nocked the heavy boar-arrow Odelia had given her, but instead of taking aim, Arietta held her bow low, so it would be hidden by the bal.u.s.trade. Firing too soon would be a mistake. Her weapon was a hunting bow, not a longbow, and despite the flattery of her retainers, she understood that she was not truly a master archer-not yet. The shades were still too far away, and even the watchman was near the limits of her accuracy.

The shades advanced slowly, the leader's blue-gray eyes enlarging from dots of light to larger disks. His companions remained two paces behind him.

Odelia crouched behind her and whispered. "Are those ... are those the shadow fiends of Wheloon?"

Arietta shook her head. "They don't look monstrous enough. I think those are just normal shades."

"That is normal?" Odelia gasped. "We are doomed!"

"Not if we keep our heads," Arietta said. "The Shadovar are not the only ones with magic at their fingertips."

Two more shades emerged from the footlane and started toward the bridge. The watchman held his ground, as if determined to deny pa.s.sage to all five of his foes. The red-haired woman had stopped halfway across the bridge and was looking back toward her protector-until her slovenly companion rushed back to tug at her sleeve.

"There's going to be a battle," Arietta said. "Odelia, leave my quiver and sound the alarm. Tell the guards at my door that there are Shadovar on the bridge. Then go to the Bridge Gate and tell the guards they must open our house to the woman and her companion-and to the watchman, too, if he reaches us."

Odelia hung the heavy quiver from its hook on Arietta's belt, then hesitated. "Shouldn't the orders come from your father?"

As Odelia spoke, the Shadovar leader drew a scimitar with a blade that looked like black gla.s.s and charged toward the bridge.

"No time!" Arietta fixed her gaze on the pair of gleaming eyes, trying to gauge her target's speed by counting her own breaths. "Tell them the gentlewoman is a friend of my mother's."

"You wish me to lie, my lady?"

Arietta exhaled in exasperation. "Yes, Odelia. I insist!"

The Netherese warriors moved at a speed Arietta could scarcely believe. She raised her bow and drew the string back to her cheek.

By then, the shade's leader was only two strides from the watchman.

Arietta set her aim on the empty s.p.a.ce just above the watchman's shoulder and, exhaling, let the bowstring sing. The arrow streaked away in a yellow blur, flas.h.i.+ng across the ca.n.a.l in less time than it took her to finish emptying her lungs.

The shaft caught the leader high in the torso, piercing his black armor and sinking a hand's length into his chest. The impact was enough to stop his charge and send him sprawling back into the street.

If the watchman was surprised, he showed no sign of it, instantly stepping forward to finish his foe. His attack was intercepted on the way down by a pair of dark blades, both of which shattered beneath his huge sword.

Arietta struggled to find another target, but with the melee now acting as a s.h.i.+eld, she risked hitting the watchman if she loosed another arrow. Then a shade broke to the left, and Arietta let fly, hoping to drive him back before he could slip past the watchman onto the bridge. The warrior saw it coming and swirled a hand through the air, raising a s.h.i.+eld of murk between himself and the approaching arrow.

The arrow sank into the darkness and briefly vanished. An instant later, the shade stumbled out from behind his s.h.i.+eld, both hands falling away from the arrow now buried in his heart.

Arietta drew back her bowstring, looking for her next target. But the watchman had begun a strategic retreat, pivoting back and forth across the bridge, using his huge sword to hold two shades at bay while the red-haired woman and her companion fled. Arietta could not find the fifth shade, and she could not find a clear shot at the two on the bridge.

Then she saw the leader, still lying on High Bridge Road, struggling to pull her first arrow from his chest.

Impossible.

Arietta's arrows were a gift from King Foril, created by one of Cormyr's most powerful War Wizards, Glathra Barcantle herself. They were, in effect, a royal apology. Arietta and her father had been riding with the king's hunting party when a wounded boar had charged her. Arietta had planted half a dozen shafts in the poor creature before it finally unhorsed her. Afterward, it had emerged that King Foril himself had fired the arrow that enraged the beast. To make amends, the king had asked Glathra to create an entire quiver of arrows that would stop anything Arietta struck.

Anything except Shadovar warriors, it seemed.

She loosed again.

The shade looked in her direction and raised a hand. In the next instant, she watched her arrow sinking into a small shadowy s.h.i.+eld, but instead of pa.s.sing through, the arrow simply vanished.

Hoping that three arrows might succeed where two had failed, Arietta nocked again and set her aim on the shade's chest-then felt her blood go cold as Odelia's scream erupted in the sitting room behind her.

Arietta dropped low and spun around. Her lady-in-waiting was swaying on her feet, her face frozen in a shocked expression, her body cleaved from collar to breastbone by the gore-dripping blade of a thick black sword. The Shadovar who held the blade was still hanging from a shadowy corner of the ceiling, like a descending spider.

Arietta started to aim, but the warrior was already pointing four fingers on his free hand in her direction. She loosed anyway, then flung her bow at him and dived for the floor, rolling forward and s.n.a.t.c.hing an arrow from her quiver. She saw her chairs and fireplace flash past to her right, then cold bands of shadow angling toward the patch of floor she'd just left, slicing through everything they touched. She came up on her knees just as the shade dropped to the ground in front of her, his dark sword rising to strike. She plunged the arrow up into his abdomen.

The shaft went vertical as the arrowhead drove up toward his heart. The warrior screamed in anguish and dropped his sword, reaching down to clutch at the arrow with both hands, struggling to pull it free. Arietta kept pus.h.i.+ng, hard, and sent him stumbling backward-straight into the swinging sword of a charging guard in a white tabard. The shade's head bounced off the wall, and Arietta barely had time to spin out of the way before it landed on the floor beside her.

"My lady!" A big hand reached down and pulled her to her feet. "Are you-"

"I'm fine."

She jerked her arm free, then turned to find the shade's decapitated corpse sprawled over Odelia's motionless form.

"Sorry, my lady," the guard said, no doubt noting the horror in her eyes. "They say you have to remove their heads."

Arietta nodded, then pointed at the shade. "Could you remove that, please?"

The guard bent down and quickly pulled the shade aside, revealing a gore-filled cleft in Odelia's chest that left no doubt about her fate. Heart breaking, Arietta uttered a quick prayer and knelt down to close the girl's eyes.

The second guard-a lanky fellow named Mannus-stepped through door and began to scan the room.

"Was that the only one?" he asked, gesturing at the dead shade. "How did he get in?"

Arietta pointed toward her still-open balcony. "I'm not sure, but they're out on High Bridge Road." She paused, suddenly angry at Mannus, then rose. "Where were you?"

Mannus's face colored with guilt, but instead of apologizing or explaining, he motioned the second guard to the balcony.

"Secure those doors, Suther." He turned back to Arietta. "Did he come across the balcony?"

"No," Arietta replied, "and I was standing right there."

"Maybe you couldn't see him," Mannus said. "I've heard some of them can walk between shadows."

"Apparently, you heard correctly," Arietta said bitterly. She retrieved her bow from the floor, then turned to confront the guard. "This should not have happened, Mannus. I sent Odelia to alert the house and go to the Bridge Gate. Why was she still here?"

Without waiting for his reply, she turned on her heel and headed to her bedchamber.

Mannus trailed after her, but stopped at the door. "My apologies, Highness," he said. "We thought Odelia's warning was a trick. Your father-"

"A trick?"

"Your father warned us to be wary," Mannus continued. "He would have our heads if you fooled us and slipped away."

Struggling to bring her temper under control, Arietta stepped toward her bed. There was no time to sit and calm herself, but she was still careful to inhale deeply and exhale completely, telling herself that nothing could be accomplished by rage, that nothing would bring Odelia back.

The tactic failed miserably. By the time she had retrieved her sword scabbard from its hook beside her pillows, she was more furious than ever-at the Shadovar, at Mannus and Suther, and most of all, at her father. It was his order the two guards had been following, and now Odelia was gone. Her father would answer for that-even more surely than his guards.

Arietta turned to find Mannus blocking her path, eyeing the jewel-encrusted scabbard in her hand. His expression suggested he thought it ridiculous for her to even own such a weapon, much less wield it. She used the tip of her bow to push the guard backward, then proceeded to herd him across the sitting room.

"Do you really find me that ridiculous, Mannus?" she demanded. "Do you really think me so foolish as to sound a false alarm at a time like this?"

"It wasn't our fault," Suther protested. "My pardon for saying so, but you're a very headstrong wo-"

"Headstrong?" Arietta whirled on the man, bringing the flat of her scabbard up under his chin. "Is it 'headstrong' to think that my father's place-that our place-is with the people? War is upon us, you idiot!"

Suther appeared too confused and fl.u.s.tered to answer.

Mannus came to Suther's rescue, gently pulling him out of the way. "It's not our place to decide such things," he said. "But the grand duke-"