The Charnel Prince - J. Gregory Keyes [86]
The greffyn had turned at the sound, too, and the sparse hairs along its spine stood straight. He heard it snarl.
And behind him he heard a voice, whispering soft in the Sefry tongue.
“Life or death, holter,” it said. “You have a choice to make.”
CHAPTER TEN
BETRAYAL
NEIL WAS STILL WAITING for Anne when the sun began to dim and Vaseto returned, leading Hurricane. On the horse was a pack carrying his armor and other few personal possessions. He walked out into the street and patted the stallion’s muzzle, noting with amusement and concern the stares with which those in the neighborhood regarded them both.
Vaseto noticed, too. “I don’t think they see horses in this part of town very much,” she said, “much less warsteeds.”
“I suppose they don’t,” Neil said, remembering he hadn’t seen anyone mounted since they passed through the large square at the city gate.
Hurricane tossed his head restlessly.
“There, lad,” Neil whispered. “Soon we’ll be back where we belong. I promise you a good leg-stretching in Newland. You’ll need it after passage on the ship.”
“If they’ll let you take her on,” Vaseto pointed out. “Berth for a man is one thing. Berth for a horse is something else again.” She shrugged. “But with what the countess passed along to you, you should be able to afford the room if they have it.” She flashed him a smile. “In any event, it’s now your problem. I have to get back to my dogs.”
Neil bowed. “I still don’t know who you really are, but thank you again.”
“You know more about me than most,” Vaseto said. “But if I were you, I would worry more about who you are. That’s likely to be more useful to you.”
With that cryptic comment, she walked up the street and vanished around a corner.
After a bit of reflection, Neil decided to put on his armor. If the men searching for Anne had had the same luck as he had, he might need it.
A bell later it occurred to him that not only hadn’t Anne come back down, but that he hadn’t seen Austra or Cazio, either. Cazio had talked as if there was something of a hurry, and yet where were they all?
He glanced at the old man they had called Ospero. He’d been watching Neil, not too pointedly, but without trying to hide it either. He’d been doing that since Anne had spoken to Cazio and had slipped upstairs.
“Can you tell me where Anne’s room is?” he asked.
“Ne comperumo,” the old man said, shrugging.
Neil looked around, hoping to spot someone who might speak the king’s tongue. Still, Cazio wasn’t back yet, and he had presumably gone to make the final arrangments.
Unless . . .
His heart fell like the bottom of a great storm swell.
Why? Why would Anne try to escape him? Were her Vitellian friends in league with the enemy?
No, there was a better explanation. What an idiot he was for not having seen it sooner. Anne had heard her father and sisters had been killed, but it was unlikely that she knew much more than that. Why should she trust a knight she barely knew, just because he claimed to have been sent to protect her?
It doesn’t matter now, he told himself, trying to stave off panic. His duty was still his duty, whether Anne believed him or not. One way or another he would bring her home, safe.
He knew where the ship was—and Anne wouldn’t be aware of that. He could still catch her, as long as they hadn’t set sail already.
He nodded to Ospero and swung himself up into the saddle.
Ospero grinned faintly and raised his hand to wave.
Neil saw the flash of steel at the last instant. He twisted in the saddle and ducked, and felt something graze along his arm, which was where his heart had been a moment or two before.
Grimly he whirled Hurricane and drew out Crow.
As if on cue, men were bunching into either side of the street. In just a few moments there would be more, but Neil wasn’t going to give them those moments. They were armed with