Assassin's Bond (Chains of Honor, Book 3) Read online

  Yanko wondered if he had been responsible for the departure of the Kyattese ship. Inadvertently. Had Tynlee urged them to leave? But if so, why? And where was she going with that trunk?

  “Greetings, Colonel Starcrest,” Tynlee said brightly in Nurian, though Yanko had little doubt she spoke his language. “Are you also leaving Port Morgrant? When you arrived so recently?”

  Dak continued to eye her suspiciously as she and her entourage approached. Tynlee did not look at Yanko, but that didn’t keep Dak from including him in his suspicious eyeing. Yanko studied the boardwalk at his feet. One of the reasons he hated working against Dak was that Dak was a thousand times smarter than he looked.

  “We had intended to ask the Kyattese for passage,” Dak said. “They were due to leave tomorrow. For some reason, they’re departing early.”

  “Not everybody loves Turgonia as much as Turgonians do.” Tynlee waved her hand airily. “What were you going to offer them for passage? Is your whole crew here going? Your numbers have expanded. Is that the assassin Sicarius? And the agent Amaranthe Lokdon?”

  Sicarius was close enough to hear the exchange, but he didn’t react to the question. Amaranthe’s mouth parted slightly. She seemed taken aback by the attention of the Nurian consul—or perhaps being properly identified. Yanko hadn’t known her surname, so he hadn’t been the one to impart that information.

  “Consul Tynlee,” Dak said, “I can’t talk right now. I must find alternate passage.”

  As he shifted away from her, Tynlee winked at Yanko and said, “The reason I asked what you’re willing to pay for passage is because it so happens that I’m leaving on a journey back to my homeland this very day. Concern for my family and colleagues, you understand. The consulate happens to keep a couple of fast yachts in port, and I’ve convinced Ambassador Silver Wolf to allow me to take a short leave since he’s here to oversee operations. He’s worried about his family too, you understand, and it’s high time that someone trustworthy go in person to check. All we’ve received are messages filtered through the handful of Nurian embassies around the world and our headquarters in the Great City, and not even the latter of late. We haven’t even been able to establish communications with anyone in the Great City for more than two weeks.”

  Tynlee’s humor had disappeared, and she squeezed her hands together as she finished speaking. The older of the two warriors—bodyguards?—at her side frowned and whispered something Yanko didn’t catch, but it had the tone of a warning.

  Yanko assumed Tynlee had encouraged the Kyattese to leave early to set up the need for Dak’s team to ride on her ship, and that she was partaking in a ruse, but she’d sounded genuinely distressed as she explained her frustrations. But Yanko didn’t trust his ability to read a mind mage, as anyone trained in that discipline had as much ability to block probes as a mage hunter. Maybe this was all to fool Dak. But would it work when Dak had been suspicious as soon as he saw the Kyattese ship departing?

  “You are offering passage?” Sicarius asked, his tone deadpan. He was another one that wouldn’t be fooled by a woman wringing her hands, Yanko wagered. “For all of us?”

  “I would be most happy to take the Nurians home.”

  “I’ll bet,” Dak said.

  “It is our duty to protect our own,” Tynlee said, “as I’m certain you can understand.”

  Kei squawked and shifted from taloned foot to taloned foot on Yanko’s shoulder.

  “And I would, of course, invite you along, Colonel. For the price of a few stories. Reference material for my novel, of course.” Tynlee smiled warmly at him.

  “Of course,” Dak murmured.

  Amaranthe said something to Sicarius in Turgonian. He extended a hand toward Tynlee, as if making an invitation to her. Amaranthe addressed Tynlee, drawing her attention, and spoke in Turgonian. Tynlee stroked her chin and listened.

  Dak interrupted, scowling and pointing at the now distant Kyattese ship, then at Yanko. Amaranthe shrugged, said a couple of words to him, and then went back to speaking to Tynlee. If she’d been startled earlier, she appeared to have recovered.

  Frustrated at not knowing what was going on, Yanko turned to Arayevo. “Are you catching any of that?”

  “She’s bargaining for passage for herself and the assassin,” Arayevo whispered. “Dak’s telling them they’re being tricked, that you and Tynlee arranged for the Kyattese ship to leave so they’d be forced to sail on the Nurian ship.” Arayevo raised her eyebrows. “Did you?”

  Yanko hesitated, aware of Sicarius looking in their direction. He replied telepathically to Arayevo.

  I reached out to her this morning to let her know what was going on. If it had only been Dak going to Nuria to look for Zirabo, I might not have, but these other two agents could be up to trouble. We should try to leave them here if we can.

  Uh, the consul just agreed to take them aboard.

  “What?” Yanko blurted, spinning back to the other conversation in time to see Amaranthe smile and shake Tynlee’s hand in the Turgonian fashion. After the handshake, Tynlee bowed in the Nurian fashion.

  “Our yacht is this way.” She extended her hand toward one of the docks in the distance. “It’s already supplied and ready for the journey.”

  “I lack surprise,” Dak grumbled.

  “Dear Colonel, you’re such a suspicious sort,” Tynlee said. “Perhaps the gods merely wish to aid you on your quest and have sent me in a timely manner.”

  “Suspicion is inculcated in Turgonian Intelligence officers,” Dak said, though he did follow after her. “I’d be shocked if it weren’t the same for Nurian diplomats.”

  “Oh, but I’m a teacher and a researcher first and foremost. I only came to work for the consulate because it was an opportunity for travel. How can one write about human cultures and sociology when one is stuck in one’s own nation? I’ve very much enjoyed my opportunity to study Turgonians.”

  She smiled at Dak. Dak didn’t return the smile. He looked glum, like a lame goat knowing it was being taken out back to be shot.

  Amaranthe wore a cheerful expression as she walked alongside Sicarius, trailing Dak and Tynlee’s entourage. Nobody bothered to walk behind Yanko and his friends, and prod them with weapons. Maybe it was presumed that they wanted to go along.

  Honored Consul? Yanko asked telepathically when Tynlee finished her attempt to charm Dak.

  Yes? Tynlee answered without looking back.

  I’m afraid I didn’t catch all of that conversation. Did you invite the Turgonian spies along? Is that… wise? He knew it was presumptuous to question her, but he couldn’t help but feel this would be a good opportunity to leave Amaranthe and Sicarius in their homeland. He’d thought that might have been her intention when she’d arranged the ship swap.

  You didn’t catch it all? Amaranthe Lokdon has no mage-hunter training. You would not find it difficult to peer into her thoughts.

  Er, I don’t do that… much. I’m not a mind mage.

  No? You reached me easily from across the city. I assumed you’d been studying for a long time.

  Yanko thought of Senshoth’s book, but he couldn’t claim he had done more than read a few of the pages before it had been lost. Not long. I didn’t have many tutors when I was growing up, and it wasn’t where my interests lay.

  He found it encouraging that she hadn’t learned everything about him in their telepathic interview the night before.

  What specialty do you claim?

  I think I mentioned that I’d studied earth magic before. That’s because I’m good at it. It’s always come most easily to me. Yanko braced himself to be teased about a specialty that only women traditionally studied in their culture, though Tynlee didn’t seem the type to tease people, at least not in a mean-spirited way.

  Is that so? The robe you’re carrying in your pack suggests other interests.

  Yanko’s cheeks warmed. He shouldn’t have been surprised that she could sense it and discern the color from its magical signature. He hoped
she wouldn’t admonish him—or worse—for carrying it when he hadn’t graduated from Stargrind.

  It was a gift from my mother. I still hope to attend Stargrind one day so I may rightfully wear it. My family wishes me to become a warrior mage, even if my affinities lie elsewhere. He didn’t intend to explain further but couldn’t help thinking of his father and also wondering if his brother, who had been injured when last they met, was well.

  I see, Tynlee thought, and maybe she saw more than he intended. To answer your original question, I was indeed planning to separate Colonel Starcrest from his fellow spies. I know the colonel somewhat and believe he’s honorable. The other two are known to me only by reputation, and Sicarius has a beastly one. He committed many heinous crimes at the orders of the former emperor. That he’s apparently working for President Starcrest now concerns me. I had always believed Rias Starcrest an honorable man, but that was when he was a naval officer. Power and pressure can change a person.

  Then why bring the assassin along?

  Amaranthe pointed out that I could keep an eye on them if they traveled with us. Tynlee’s dryness came through the telepathic link. I thought I was using my power to manipulate her, but I’m not positive I wasn’t manipulated myself.

  You said she’s not a mage, right?

  Correct. I refer, of course, to the old-fashioned method of manipulation. With words and smiles.

  They reached the gangplank of the most vibrantly colored ship on the pier, perhaps in the entire bay. The sleek sailing yacht gleamed with fresh yellow, orange, and turquoise paint, and flamboyantly garbed sailors were on deck, awaiting their arrival.

  Dak stopped and glowered at the ship.

  “Beautiful, isn’t she?” Tynlee asked.

  “Where are the weapons?” Dak asked.

  “Weapons?”

  “Yes, projectiles that pierce enemy ships or, preferably, blow them up.”

  “It’s a Nurian diplomatic yacht.” Tynlee sounded genuinely confused. “It would be an act of war for someone to attack it.”

  “I’m sure that’ll deter pirates.” Dak flicked a dismissive hand toward the lemon-yellow hull. “Pirates that will see it coming from twenty miles away.”

  “Then it’s fortunate you’ll be traveling in the company of so many mages, mages who can help pirates understand the error of their ways. Do you know that I have a small chapter in my textbook, War, Society, and Human Behavior, that discusses reasons people pursue criminal activities? I had the opportunity to interview a number of pirates incarcerated near the palace in the Great City. You would think the acquisition of wealth to be the greatest drive, but every single one of them spoke of or thought about—” she touched her temple, “—a desire for freedom, to live without anyone controlling their fate.”

  Arayevo had paused to listen, and she smiled wistfully.

  “You can imagine how much this selfish desire creates conflict within the Nurian soul,” Tynlee went on. “We are a people raised to put our nation and our family ahead of personal needs and wants.”

  “So I’ve heard.” Dak looked at Yanko.

  “Suicide rates are three times higher in Nurian prisons than Turgonian ones,” Tynlee said. “However, you’re three times more likely to be murdered in a Turgonian prison, so neither is a healthy place to end up.”

  Dak faced her. “Are you telling me all this because you’re trying to distract me from how bright your yacht is?”

  “I’m merely informing you that I’ve studied the criminal mind and can likely convince pirates to leave us alone.” She smiled and walked up the gangplank with her guards trailing her. The captain, a wispy white-haired Nurian man no taller than she, bowed deeply to her as she boarded.

  “Are you still coming?” Yanko asked when he drew even with Dak. He hadn’t yet stepped foot on the gangplank. It was painted turquoise to match the highlights of the ship. Yanko found the color appealing after all the drabness of Turgonia.

  “Yes,” Dak said. “Though I’m starting to lament that Admiral Ravencrest left.”

  “Because he’s not Nurian?”

  “Because his ships had weapons. And I knew what to expect from him.” Dak frowned at Tynlee’s back as she chatted with the captain.

  “He’s not likely to make you the star of a novel.”

  Dak grunted. “She’s not writing a novel, and certainly not about me.”

  He sighed, shaking his head, and headed up the gangplank.

  Yanko didn’t have a solid read on Tynlee yet, either, but he couldn’t see why she would have bothered to lie to him about her novelist aspirations. He could, however, see why Dak, ever distrustful of Nurians, wouldn’t take her words at face value.

  “Yanko, Yanko.” Yanko touched his chest while holding a fistful of seeds with his other hand. Kei perched on the railing in front of him, watching that seed-filled hand.

  “Puntak, puntak,” Kei said cheerfully.

  Yanko shook his head and said his name again slowly. He tried to telepathically say it into the bird’s mind as well, on the chance that would help. He’d had luck conveying to animals that he wished them to do certain things, but he used images for that, not words. Human words didn’t typically mean much to them.

  “Maybe he’s too old to learn,” Lakeo said, walking up to the railing, a book under her arm. “Didn’t those people say he had been their grandfather’s bird?”

  Yanko wasn’t sure how long parrots lived but said, “He still seems young and spry.”

  “He does beat you about the head with great alacrity when he wants something.”

  Kei ruffled his wings. “Seeds!”

  Yanko, not wanting to be beaten about the head with Lakeo looking on, doled out a few into his empty hand. The bird plucked them up without gentleness.

  Behind Kei, the sea rose and fell in steady waves. It was windy with a cloudy sky, and they were making good time. Yanko was nervous every time he thought about returning to the land where he was now considered a criminal, but he hoped he could avoid running into anyone who knew that before he found Zirabo. And that Zirabo would be in a position to clear his name. But if the Great Chief was missing… who was in charge of the country now? Did Zirabo have any power anymore?

  “Do you have time to show me a few things?” Lakeo tapped the book.

  “Magic?” Yanko guessed since her journey had begun with her longing to get into a university on Kyatt so she could learn the mental sciences.

  “There are cases of books in the ship’s library. Most of them are boring, but this one looked like it might be helpful.” She held it up so he could read the title.

  “A Study in Fire and Flame?” he asked.

  “There are exercises. I don’t know enough, and I got stuck.” She shrugged. “I thought you might find it useful to work through them, and then you can show me how to do it.”

  Her lips thinned, and he suspected she’d spent a lot of time trying to learn on her own before seeking him out. There was a time when she wouldn’t have admitted to needing help or have asked him for anything.

  “My father would be delighted if I spent my voyage studying fire magic,” Yanko said.

  “Might as well. I haven’t seen any lime trees around that you can stick dead fish into.”

  He snorted, wondering if Minark had kept that lime tree alive. Yanko had constructed a special container for it so it could survive the seas, and he would be sad to learn it had perished.

  “A pity.” He extended a hand toward the door that led to the cabins, the mess, and the library. He’d glanced in the latter and would consider it more of a book closet. The yacht was far more luxurious than the Turgonian ironclad had been, but it was also quite small, with fewer than ten cabins for the crew and passengers.

  Arayevo and Lakeo were sharing a room, and Yanko had been stuck in with Dak again. He wasn’t sure who Jhali was rooming with as he’d barely seen her in the four days they had been at sea.

  A distant boom sounded as he was about to follow Lakeo down th
e steps. Instinctively, he swept out with his senses and searched the horizon with his eyes.

  “Another vessel approaches,” the first mate called from the bow where he was manning the wheel. The small craft did not have a crow’s nest.

  “Pirate?” came Dak’s voice from the steps.

  He almost bowled over Lakeo and Yanko as he raced onto the deck, a rifle in one hand, a cutlass in the other, and his pistol and ammo pouch hanging on his belt. If Yanko hadn’t known better, he would have believed Dak had been sleeping with the weapons, anticipating that there was no way their bright yellow, weaponless yacht could reach their destination without being attacked.

  “It’s a Nurian ship,” the first mate said.

  Yanko trotted after Dak so he wouldn’t miss the conversation, but he wanted to use his senses to investigate that ship. He could barely make it out beyond the rising and falling waves.

  “That doesn’t answer my question,” Dak grumbled.

  Another boom floated over the ocean.

  “Is it doing the firing or is something else firing at it?” Dak turned to Yanko as he asked the question.

  “It’s too far away to be targeting us,” the mate said.

  “So far,” Dak said.

  At first, Yanko only sensed fish and octopuses and whales and all manner of life in the sea around them. With all that out there, it took him a moment to find the ship and the human souls aboard it. Scared human souls.

  “They’re running from something,” Yanko said. “They must be.” He frowned as he swept out farther, trying to detect another ship, or maybe a fleet of ships. Pirates?

  But he didn’t sense any other vessels sailing after the Nurians. Could an underwater boat be after them? Another boom rang out, and he shook his head, confused. Underwater boats didn’t have cannons.

  Look up, Tynlee’s voice sounded in his head as she approached their group. Sicarius, Amaranthe, and Arayevo had also come onto the deck, veering toward the railing closest to the distant ship. The clouds hide the attacker, she added.

  The clouds?

  Yanko shifted his senses skyward, half-expecting to find a massive flock of birds attacking the ship at the behest of a distant mage. But birds didn’t fire cannons.