Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [7]
She yawned, then stretched to ease the aching muscles in her neck and back. She'd spent long hours scrubbing the kitchen, under Erevis Cale's baleful glare. She was exhausted, but she couldn't afford to sleep-she had to get away from the city first.
Cracking open the door to Thazienne's room, she made sure the hallway was clear. She picked up the leather bag she'd packed for her journey and slung its strap over her shoulder. She'd raided the pantry after she finished cleaning the kitchen, and had filled the bag with enough food to see her through the next few days. The bag also held a kitchen knife, candles, flint and steel for kindling a fire, a light summer blanket, and a change of clothes.
Also inside the bag, tied into a handkerchief, were the few coins she'd been able to save over the years: mostly pennies and a handful of silver ravens. She hoped they'd be enough for a seat on a carriage to the neighboring city of Ordulin-perhaps even as far as Essembra.
She crept down the darkened hallway to Tal's bedroom and slipped a folded letter under his door. She'd left a similar letter for her adoptive parents in the stables, where her father would find it in the morning. Their letter had been vague, saying only that she was in danger, and had to leave Selgaunt for a time-that she would send word to them later. She told her parents they shouldn't worry; she was going to a place where she would be under the goddess's protection. It wasn't exactly a lie. Her destination-the Tangled Trees-was watched over by Hanali Celanil.
Her parents, however, would assume that she meant the goddess Sune and that she was traveling to the House of Firehair-Sune's temple in the city of Daerlun. When they reported their daughter's sudden and seemingly inexplicable departure to the master, he would no doubt send agents after Larajin-and they would head west. Drakkar, if he followed them, would be thrown off the scent.
The letter she'd slipped under Tal's door included
more detail than the one she'd left for her parents. She'd included a description of her encounter with the Hulorn's wizard, whom she now was able to put a name to. Tal knew about Larajin's earlier brush with Drakkar in the Hunting Garden. He would understand the threat, why she needed to leave-and the need for secrecy.
Making her way through the wide halls to Stormweather Towers's grand front entrance-if Drakkar did have men watching the house, they'd probably be expecting her to slip out through the servants' door at the rear- she peered out a leaded-glass window at the darkened street. The time was halfway between midnight and dawn. At that hour, Sarn Street was virtually deserted. A boy walking on stilts tended the street lanterns, trimming their wicks and topping up their oil, and a solitary carriage clattered past on a side road, but the tallhouses that lined the street were, for the most part, dark and silent.
She was just about to open the door when the gleam of metal in a doorway across the street gave her pause. The lantern boy noticed it, too. He bent at the waist to peer down into the doorway, then straightened and moved away at a rapid clip. Inside the doorway, a figure shifted. It was a man clad entirely in black but with a helm that caught the lantern light. He was a member of the city guard.
Larajin had been right. The Hulorn's men were watching Stormweather Towers. They must have expected her to try to slip away, perhaps even counted on it. That way, she could simply be made to disappear, and Master Thamalon would never be the wiser about who took her or why. The gods only knew how many of the guard were out there, waiting and watching. Larajin wasn't going to make it on her own-even in disguise. She needed help.
She was only an initiate of the goddess Sune, not