There comes a point in every one's life when they realize they are stupid. It's a bitter and crushing realization, but unavoidable.
We had been in no hurry, eaten at leisure and made our way down to the garden in good time; the bangs, shouts and crashes of doors being kicked open still in the distance and no immediate threat.
The garden was perhaps thirty yards by forty, the wall seven feet or so high. There was a gate that would lead onto an alley and a way through from the bottom of the two flats, through the kitchen; in fact, half the kitchen was outside.
“Hold hands and follow me,” Jocasta said.
We formed a line and followed as she walked through the beds of flowers, almost everywhere some were in bloom. Her hand was cool in mine, small and delicate, the stone warm by contrast. Both felt good. There were apple and cherry trees, a vegetable patch and at the far end of the garden a wicker screen covered in clematis, behind which was the usual garden paraphernalia of earth, tools, pots and seeds. Once there Jocasta let go of my hand, a little reluctantly I thought. Wishful thinking, maybe. Still she had traveled five hundred miles for me, stolen from her family, risked her life and ruined her reputation. Well, she couldn't feel nothing for me, could she? Even I'm not that dumb. It was a new thought and I drunkenly puzzled it out. She had nothing to go back for either. Her reputation was shot. No patron would wed her. Her family might disown her to save their own reputations. It wasn't nothing. Not by any means.
“Now what?” I asked.
“We wait,” she hissed, “quietly.”
It wasn't what I had meant but I let it go, for now. Sometimes, I decided, it was better to say nothing. She must know that she was as barred from going home as I was, and it struck me that she had not fought very hard against the idea of going north. I looked around for something to sit on and found a pile of sacks of compost. When she gave me a disapproving look I shrugged and raised an eyebrow. Might as well be comfortable, I tried to convey. Dubaku squatted, feet flat on the ground, leaning forward. To me it looked intensely uncomfortable but he seemed happy enough. Sapphire stood stock still. Meran leaned against the wall. After a while, Jocasta shooed me up a bit and I made room for her. I was intensely aware of her hip against mine. She wore thin trousers that put just two thin layers of cloth between me and her soft thigh. Her arm touched mine, shoulder just under mine. She wore a shirt and jacket. Man clothes but I found them enchanting. I could smell her, her hair seemingly just under my nose.
“You smell nice,” I whispered.
She turned slightly and glared up at me and breathed a word of advice. “Shush, stupid.”
Not exactly the words of endearment my fuzzy brain was hoping for. Still, she did blush a bit, though after I nodded she looked away.
The sounds of the search got closer. We waited, tense. At least I was tense. Everyone else seemed completely at ease. After a time we heard them in the streets about us, at our door, inside the flats. A head peered out a window at us and disappeared. A minute later a barbarian wandered into the garden, looked around aimlessly for a bit and left. A minute later another did the same. Then the search moved on.
I didn't move. Jocasta was still close, I whispered to her. “Is that it?”
“Wait,” she whispered back, just loud enough for all of us. “Just in case.”
Everything had gone quiet. I didn't like it. I caught Sapphire looking at me and met his gaze squarely. He didn't like it either. The search had stopped. Why?
We waited, tense, doubtful, uneasy. You only stop searching when you have found what you are looking for. I was just about to say so when Ferrian sauntered out into the garden. Behind him were two barbarian guards, just as Gatren always had with him. Big, cruel looking men who had seen a good deal of casual violence in their time, perpetrating most of it. He stopped and looked about the garden frowning. Then walked forward, wandered around aimlessly, not even coming close to us, and stopped facing his two guards. “What happened?” he asked.
They told him.
“Nice maze, Sumto,” he said turning around and facing us again.
My blood was running cold in my veins and my breath seemed as shallow as a film of water on glass. He knew I was here. How did he know I was here?
“There are soldiers in all four streets. And beyond. There is nowhere to go. You might as well come out. You and your friend, whoever he is.”
Friend, only one friend, but still he knew I wasn't alone. How did he know I wasn't alone? We'd left no sign in the flat, just in case. How did he know I was here?
“Well, you can't stay there forever,” he grinned, “you'll get thirsty. Ready for a drink? I have a nice wine with me. Well, it's a filthy wine actually but I expect your palate is a bit dulled by now.”
I wasn't paying attention, I was thinking, looking around for escape, knowing there was none. How did he know? And it was then that I realized I was stupid. It was a disappointment to me. My heart sank a little more as I held up the stone I wore around my neck. 'I harmonized them, so I could find you,' Jocasta had said. I had assumed she meant she had attuned this stone to the one she had sent me. But she hadn't, I knew. She had attuned this stone to mine when she had come with her sister to ask for my aid. I remembered the almost invisible flash, now. And Ferrian now had my ring. And I had this. And now Ferrian had me. I looked at my companions one at a time. They all looked at me. They all had the same tense worried expression, except for Dubaku, who expressed nothing on his face or in his eyes. And Sapphire, who was frowning slightly at me in an irritated sort of way as though it were all my fault, which it was. And Jocasta, whose mouth was open in an oh, her eyes wide with fear as she shook her head, her hand on my arm.
She held up the stone she wielded, her expression mutating into one of grim determination. I gripped both stone and hand in my fist and shook my head. No. “There will be too many.” I had to come close to her ear, my lips brushing her earlobe, my cheek brushing hers, the scent of her hair in my nostrils. I whispered quickly. “If you are free you can act to free me again. If dead, you are dead. If taken we are lost. Stay free. I'll go.” I stood up. She clutched my arm, desperately I thought. Gently I pulled her hand away and moved before I could change my mind.
Meran made to follow me but, to my surprise, Sapphire gripped his arm and pulled him back hard. I didn't see the rest, I didn't dare stop moving lest I lose all control. Fear, it's too short a word. Too easy to say. I was trembling with it. I knew what I was letting myself in for. Still, I held myself still, walking steadily down one narrow path of the garden toward the man who had become my bitter enemy and whom I would surely kill one day. I caught a glimpse of movement and turned my head slightly. Sapphire was walking another narrow path and there were some pretty pale blue flowers on a bush between us. It's one of those strange contrasting images that will stay with you for a lifetime – the man I had seen murder another man, my eyes locked to his as he twisted the knife into the man's kidney, now seen through a haze of delicate blue flowers as he walked calmly to sacrifice himself for me. And I had no doubt he knew exactly what he was letting himself in for.