The Assassins of Altis

Chapter Twelve

On the third day out from Caer Lyn, Mari had relaxed sufficiently to suggest that they mingle a little with the other passengers. “If my Guild hasn’t intercepted this ship by now, we should be safe for the rest of the journey. We could try to find some commons our age and see what they’re like. We can’t spend the entire voyage in our cabin.”

“I like being together in our cabin,” Alain replied.

“You like being together in our bed in our cabin! Even on a honeymoon couples are supposed to get out and breathe fresh air every once in a while.”

“Being on a honeymoon gives us the perfect excuse for staying in our cabin where no one can recognize you,” Alain pointed out.

“Alain, I will suffocate if I don’t get out a bit,” Mari said. “As much as I love you and as much I’m enjoying getting physical with my new husband, I cannot endure being locked in a room for days on end. I need freedom.”

He had finally understood, then, and agreed to try to mingle with others. Which was a big concession from someone who had been brought up as a Mage, Mari knew. She thanked him with a kiss, which led to another, which led to other things.

They managed to make it out of their cabin for dinner.

The dining room on the ship was fairly fancy, decked out with shining brass and gleaming woodwork. The dining room ran across the entire width of the ship, and portholes on both sides provided light and could be opened for air in good weather. Mari led Alain toward a table where five men and women about their age were already seated and eating, introducing herself and Alain using the false names on their current set of forged Imperial identification papers.

Two of the men and one of the women were in the Western Alliance military, the other man and woman friends of theirs, the entire group finishing up a trip to the Sharr Isles “while things are sort of quiet,” as one of the soldiers put it.

Mari mostly listened, trying to get a better feel for these people who were like her and yet not like her. She had spent most of her childhood in a Mechanics Guild Hall, learning not only the science and technology of the Mechanic arts but also living within the closed society of the Mechanics Guild. Commons had lived very different lives. They represented diverse cultures, but all had been brought up in the shadow of the Great Guilds, whereas Mari had been taught to be one of their rulers. Never comfortable with that role, Mari had grown increasingly ashamed of what she had once believed to be the proper order of things.

Most of the conversation among the commons was about things they had done together and spots they had visited, but Mari’s attention was caught when she heard a certain name. “Flyn’s in command of part of the army of Ihris,” one of the Western Alliance soldiers said. “They hired him away from Alexdria.”

“After that mess on the last raid he commanded?” another one of the soldiers asked. “His force got cut to pieces.”

Mari was thinking about whether or not to ask more about Flyn when she heard Alain speaking.

“That was not the fault of General Flyn,” Alain said, betraying an unusual amount of emotion. Fortunately, an unusual amount of emotion for a Mage appeared just mildly upset to other people. “His force was betrayed, ambushed by a full legion backed by many Mages.”

The others focused on Alain. “How do you know about it?” one asked.

Mari answered before Alain could. “His brother was up there.”

One of the women leaned forward eagerly. “Did he see the daughter?”

“Oh, come on, Patila,” one of her companions laughed.

“All of the soldiers with Flyn saw her,” Patila insisted. “And a lot of Mechanics went through later looking for her. I have a friend who personally talked to them, or was interrogated by them I guess I should say, and those Mechanics were looking for a woman about our age.”

“Yeah, I know, but that doesn’t make her the daughter of Jules. The stories say she was wearing a Mechanics jacket.”

“But she fixed things for free, and gave away stuff to help injured commons. Does that sound like any Mechanic you ever met?” Patila gazed at Alain again. “Did your brother see her?”

Alain nodded. “He did.”

Mari watched the others, trying to judge their reactions.

“Did she seem like the daughter?” Patila asked excitedly.

Alain glanced at her, and Mari nodded ever so slightly.

“Yes,” Alain said. “He was certain of it.”

One of the men looked skeptical, but the others exchanged looks filled with emotion. “I hope you’re right,” the other woman said. “We need her. When we left home, everything felt… what’s the word?”

“Tight as a drum,” the skeptical man said. “And ready to snap from being pulled too tight. Like those civil disturbances near Genese.”

“There was rioting in Palandur recently,” Mari said.

“Really? In the Imperial capital?” The man shook his head. “This world is going to blazes like a raft going over a waterfall, and I don’t see where anyone can stop it.”

“Hey, lighten up,” the second soldier said with a grin. “We’re still on vacation for a few more days. Let’s talk about something fun.”

“Such as?”

“Uh… hey, that other story, the one we heard from some Imperials in Caer Lyn the night before we left.”

“You mean Mara?” Patila asked with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah. It really had them spooked,” the soldier explained to Mari and Alain. “Have you heard about it?”

Mari shook her head wordlessly, aiming a warning look at Alain as she did so.

“Well,” the soldier began, obviously relishing the chance to tell the story, “apparently there had been some worries about Mara before, just superstitious stuff. In most places Mara is just a creepy legend to tell stories about around the fire, but I guess you Imperials take her a lot more seriously. The Imperials told us that somebody got out of Marandur recently, which is supposed to be impossible. You know, the dead city?”

“We’ve heard of it,” Mari replied dryly.

“Oh, yeah, of course you guys would know about it. According to the Imperials I talked to, there were a lot of funny noises in the city, where nobody is alive to make funny noises, and soon after footprints were found coming out, right through the area where there were legionaries guarding the city. Somebody snuck right through the Imperial sentries and then vanished completely.”

“Mages can be invisible,” one of his companions pointed out.

“Yeah, but they can’t fly without a Roc, and legionaries couldn’t miss a Roc. From all I hear, those guys are really sharp. Anyway, half the Empire has been trying to find whoever escaped and having no luck at all. So,” the soldier leaned forward, grinning, “the Imperials are starting to say it was Mara who left Marandur, that she’d been at Maran’s tomb, maybe trapped there for a long time, but now somebody let her out and she’s running free.” He laughed loudly. “I can’t believe the Emperor would encourage that kind of superstition. Every young man in the Empire must be checking the teeth of every attractive girl he sees.”

“If Mara leaves the Empire,” the other woman suggested slyly, “maybe you guys will have to worry about that. You’re just the right age for her appetite.”

“See? That’s what I mean! How can making guys nervous around good-looking women serve any good purpose?”

“Maybe it’s a stratagem,” Patila replied. “I’m serious. If the daughter really has appeared, that could create problems for more people than the Great Guilds. What’s the Empire’s first priority?”

Mari answered. “Control. Stability. Just like the Great Guilds.”

The woman soldier nodded. “Right. Does the Emperor want the daughter running loose inside the Empire, stirring up the common folk? Not on your life. But if the common folk of the Empire think she’s really Mara, they’ll be even more inclined to be good little citizens so the Emperor will protect them.” She looked at Mari again, embarrassed. “Sorry I put it that way.”

“No, that’s probably a good way of saying it,” Mari assured her.

Alain was nodding, too. “It is a possibility. The Emperor would want to be able to control the daughter as well as his own people.”

“Then why feed the rumors at all?” the first male soldier asked. “That’s what I can’t figure out, why so many people are paying attention to them right now.”

Patila tapped her finger on the table to emphasize her words. “Because this time it’s different. I talked to my grandfather before I left, and he said there’s never been so much talk about the daughter, or so many people claiming to have actually seen her. Grandfather said that in the past every once in a while somebody would say that the daughter was coming soon, but nobody ever said she was alive and getting ready to move against the Great Guilds, and nobody ever claimed to have seen her or what she had done. She killed a big dragon in the Northern Ramparts. Lots of people saw her do it and others hiked out to see the dead body before it finally dissolved. Before that there was Dorcastle. Nobody knows exactly what the Great Guilds tried to cover up there, but somebody killed a dragon there, too, and messed up a lot of Mechanic equipment.”

“And there’s rumors about what happened at Ringhmon,” one of the men added.

“Maybe she did go to Marandur,” the second woman suggested. “I mean, Jules was in the Imperial fleet before she headed west. Maybe Jules left something in Marandur centuries ago and her daughter had to go looking for it. Why else would anyone go to that city?”

Another of the men shrugged. “Whether the rumors are true or not, the Mechanics are in an uproar. One of the ship’s officers told me several of them were supposed to sail with us but got yanked off at the last minute. He said they were complaining about a Guild emergency when they left.”

Mari feigned only a small amount of interest, even though she was feeling intensely curious. “A Guild emergency?”

“Yeah, like they were needed back in Caer Lyn for something.”

“I wonder if the Mages are upset, too?” another soldier asked.

“Who can tell? Though if the daughter really does have a Mage with her, that would be something, wouldn’t it?”

The second male soldier grinned. “It would be for her. You know what they say about Mages.”

Patila glowered at him. “Pig.”

The other woman was looking out the nearest porthole. “How many people have lived and died under the control of the Great Guilds? But if the daughter really has come, maybe our kids will be free.”

“Maybe we’ll live to be free,” one of the men agreed.

Mari finally spoke again, consumed by guilt as she thought about people like these risking themselves for her. “It might be hard to gain that freedom. There might be a war.”

The soldier nodded in reply, unfazed. “Yes. There’s certain to be a price. Maybe a big price. I can’t imagine the Great Guilds giving up easily, and with apologies to present company, I don’t think the Emperor is going to be thrilled at the idea of that much change, either. But we die as it is, don’t we? Dying for that… well, it might make it a lot easier.” The soldier raised his glass of wine. “To freedom, and to the daughter.”

Mari, Alain and the others raised their glasses as well, Mari wondering what the others would say if they knew the daughter was sitting with them.

But as the toast ended, the skeptical man shook his head. “I’d be as happy as anyone if she really came,” he said in a way that didn’t sound sincere to Mari, “but listen to yourselves. You’re putting your hope in someone who was wearing a Mechanics jacket and working with a Mage. Why would either of them care about what happens to us?”

“Maybe,” said Mari, “they both know that everyone deserves freedom, and that everyone will suffer if the world doesn’t change.”

“There’s nothing in the prophecy about any Mechanics, though,” the skeptic objected.

“There is,” Alain said. “The prophecy says that the daughter will unite Mages, Mechanics, and common folk to overthrow the Great Guilds.”

Patila pointed at Alain. “Yes! That’s what the guy with General Flyn said the Mage told him!”

“So,” the skeptic continued, “we’re going to base our hopes on the word of a Mage?”

“He wasn’t a normal Mage,” Patila said hotly. “All right, I know it’s silly to say normal and Mage. But every soldier with Flyn in that action said that Mage was special, that he saved their butts from the Imperials and nearly died more than once doing it.”

Alain spoke in a voice so calm that Mari feared he would give away that he was a Mage. “You are soldiers. Think of a battle, where the foot soldiers and the cavalry and the siege machines work together to achieve victory. Now think of a battle where Mages, Mechanics, and soldiers of the common folk work together as allies in one cause.”

Every eye stayed on Alain, then one of the male soldiers nodded. “That would be something. Tough to beat.”

“And suppose,” Mari added, “that the daughter used her Mechanic skills to get new weapons made, new kinds of rifles, and lots of ammunition for them.”

“That would be awesome,” Patila said. “New kinds of rifles? I’ve never heard anyone talk about different kinds of rifles. There are just the ones the Mechanics make.” She peered at Mari, puzzled. “How did you even think of something like that?”

“I heard about it,” Mari said, trying to think how to cover her tracks. “Somebody was talking and… who was that guy?” she asked Alain, hoping that he could come up with something.

Alain pretended to think. “We were not able to learn his name.”

Patila looked from one of them to the other doubtfully. “Who would talk about that kind of stuff? Doesn’t Mechanic equipment always stay the same?”

“And it doesn’t matter anyway,” the skeptic said. “Help some Mechanic overthrow the Great Guilds? A Mechanic who’s working with a Mage? They’d just set themselves in charge as soon as we got rid of the old bosses. Just a couple of new Great Guilds, that’s all. Count me out.”

“Jorge,” one of the other men began. “Anything is better than—”

“No,” Jorge interrupted. “People going crazy and rioting because they think things can’t worse? Attacking the Great Guilds because they think they can win? Everything going to blazes because people believe that some mythical daughter is going to make everything right? How is that better?” He stood up. “I need some air.”

The others watched Jorge walk out of the dining room and toward the ladder up onto the deck.

The other woman sighed. “I can’t blame him for being that way. A lot of people may feel like that. I bet the Western Alliance government will feel like that. It’s scary. Cities are already starting to pop. When the people hear about the daughter, it could get a lot worse.”

“Nobody should do anything until the daughter says it’s time,” Mari insisted.

The others nodded, but Patila eyed Mari. “Do you know when that will be?”

“No,” Mari said.

“How would she know?” one of the male soldiers asked Patila.

Once back in their cabin, Mari sat on the bed. “What do you think?”

“I think you are revealing yourself,” Alain said.

“Not on purpose,” Mari said. “That thing about the rifles was because I’m not used to talking to commons. A Mechanic would have understood. For the rest… it’s just… they need hope. You told me that!”

“I did.” Alain stood, his eyes hooded in thought. “The things they said about violence in their cities were worrisome. I have been uncertain about your decision not to announce the arrival of the daughter, but now I see the wisdom in it.”

“Now you see the wisdom in it?” Mari asked. “So, you didn’t think it was a wise decision before?”

Alain looked at her, plainly considering his words before replying. “It was your decision to make. I withheld judgment. I did not decide either way.”

“You are my husband,” Mari said. “You should assume wisdom on my part.”

Alain’s expression changed slightly, gaining a slightly puzzled air. “This is a rule of being married?”

“Yes,” Mari said. “It’s one of the rules. Assume your wife is being wise when she makes a decision or says something.”

“I did not know this. Is there a place where all of these rules are written down?” Alain asked.

“Um… I’ll tell them to you whenever you need to know one.” Mari looked at him, feeling guilty for misleading Alain. “All right. I’ll tell you the truth. There aren’t actually any written rules for being married.”

“There are not?” Alain asked, even more puzzled now. “But it is so important. You have told me the Mechanics have written rules for how to do everything.”

“Yes,” Mari admitted. “They do. Construction manuals. Operating manuals. Repair manuals. Maintenance manuals. Organizational manuals. Procedural manuals. You name it.”

“But there is no marriage manual?”

Mari frowned. “No. There ought to be. Shouldn’t there? I wish I’d thought to ask my mother about that.”

“I will trust in your wisdom, then,” Alain said.

She gave him a suspicious look. “Was that sarcasm? That better not have been sarcasm. What was that thing those commons said about Mages and women? All of the commons seemed to understand.”

Alain shook his head. “I do not know. Commons know so little of Mages that they create stories. On the matter of the rumors about Mara, the soldier may have been right that this is being deliberately pushed by the Emperor, though it is also possible that the Emperor is as superstitious as some of his people.”

Mari winced, looking down. “Mara! What did I do to deserve that?”

“At least the Mara story and the belief that the daughter has returned are serving to conceal the actual reason we went to Marandur,” Alain pointed out. “The idea that the daughter of Jules sought something her ancestor left there may satisfy many.”

“Jules didn’t leave those texts,” Mari muttered, her eyes going to their packs. “But maybe you’re right and that story will help us. The Mara thing, though, is just so appalling.”

Alain watched her, puzzled again. “Why does it bother you? You are not Mara.”

Mari pressed her fingers against both sides of her head. “Alain, I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I’m sure any woman would be happy to hear that her husband doesn’t consider her to be an undead, blood-sucking fiend. But that still leaves a lot of people inside the Empire who are going to be worried about Mara—about me—coming through the window to devour their children.”

“From what those men and women said,” Alain pointed out, “the chosen prey of Mara is young men, not children. Mara would seek out a man about my age.”

Mari felt her brow lowering as she glared at Alain. “And why did you feel it necessary to say that?” she growled.

Belatedly realizing that he had made a serious mistake, Alain was groping for words. “I did not… that is… what should I say now?”

“As little as possible.”

He nodded silently.

“Do you have any idea how it feels to have people think you’re some loathsome creature?” Mari demanded.

Alain did not respond immediately. “Yes.”

“What?”

“I am a Mage.”

She felt a burst of shame. “Of course you know how that feels. Mechanics and commons use a lot worse words to describe Mages. I’m sorry. I’m just feeling so much pressure. I don’t understand why I couldn’t have more time, a few years at least, to lay the groundwork for overthrowing the Great Guilds. Instead I have to worry about getting it done faster, without attracting too much notice from the Great Guilds before I assemble the strength needed to withstand the inevitable all-out attack.”

“It may be that your presence has created the conditions for the storm,” Alain suggested. “That is why it approaches swiftly.”

“My— What?” Mari glared at him. “Are you saying it’s my fault?”

“No.” He paused, then spoke slowly, as if forming the thoughts behind his words as he talked. “Whenever the daughter appeared, whenever that happened, her presence would create the conditions for the commons to erupt into violence. Instead of waiting with patience for the one who would help free them, they would want to act.”

“But you said this storm was threatening before anyone was talking about me being the daughter!” Mari objected.

“You existed,” Alain said. “In getting to know me, a Mage, and in surviving the attack on the caravan, you had already taken the first steps on the road the daughter had to travel.”

“Great.” Mari slumped backwards. “So it’s my fault just for existing. Just like so many Senior Mechanics have implied for years.”

“That is not—” “

“Speaking of my Guild, I’ve been thinking, Alain. This ship raced to get out of Caer Lyn because they’d heard the harbor was going to be closed, and those guys at dinner said some Mechanics were called off this ship for some Guild emergency. Even though the reaction was badly coordinated, doesn’t that sound like my Guild had realized that I was in Caer Lyn after all?”

Alain considered her question, then nodded. “It does. Yet the two who went to your home betrayed no signs of worry or suspicion.”

“But what else could have betrayed our presence? There is no way that the ship we sabotaged could have gotten that far-talker working again. We saw those sailors after my Guild had already started those measures to close down the port, so they couldn’t have told anyone.”

“You have told me that Mechanics cannot sense the presence of other Mechanics,” Alain noted. “But something is revealing where you are.”

Mari shook her head. “I wish I could figure out what it was. Maybe the Guild has hired lots of commons with orders to keep an eye out for me. How could we avoid being seen if the Guild had that many commons also searching for us?” She tried to think of anything else that might betray her presence, finally hauling out her far-talker and confirming that it was off. “If I was talking on this they could track the signal. I used to leave it on standby sometimes so I could hear what any nearby Mechanics might be saying to each other, but ever since Severun it has stayed off. I don’t even know if the battery is still good. Probably, I guess, since I haven’t been using it.” She pushed the far-talker back into her pack, then looked at the watertight bundle holding the banned Mechanics Guild texts. “About another week and we’ll be at Altis. I wonder what we’ll find there? Answers? Or just more questions?”

“Perhaps both answers and more questions,” Alain suggested.

She sealed her pack. “We’ll know in a while, I guess. What do you want to do now?” Alain smiled at her. “I should have guessed,” Mari laughed, then held out a restraining hand. “How do you feel? You’ve told me that being too close to someone else was supposed to make you lose your powers, and, well, we’ve gotten really, really close.”

He regarded her with that serious look. “I feel stronger than ever. Still. I cannot actually test that, of course.”

“Alain, if you lose your powers—”

“It will have been worth it. I told you that before this voyage began, and everything since then has only reinforced for me that I was right.”

She smiled, reaching for him. “Come here, my Mage.”

The city of Altis lay on the island of Altis in the far northwestern part of the Sea of Bakre. Mari stood at the railing of the sailing ship White Wing, gazing up at the mountains rising steeply from the waters of the sea. The entrance to the great circular harbor was just coming into view as the White Wing swung past the southern headland of the island. The breeze sweeping past the island carried a brisk reminder of winter’s cold, but also the promise of the spring which would soon warm the lands around the inland sea.

Mari looked at the white buildings of the city of Altis on its high tableland and wondered what awaited her there, her and Alain, what enemies might be lying in wait for them at this moment. After more than a week at sea marred only by the worry of another ship intercepting them as the Mechanic ship had, it was jarring to face the prospect of immediate danger once again.

She had been more careful and said less in subsequent conversations with commons on the ship, but had noticed the soldier Patila and the skeptical man both regarding her more than would be usual in the last several days.

Alain came to stand beside her, and Mari reached out to grip his hand tightly. “I’ve been wondering if the last week was a dream,” she confessed. “Wondering if I’ll wake up and find us still trapped in Marandur, or me locked in a cell someplace, all alone.”

“If it was a dream,” Alain noted, “I have shared it with you, and it has been a very good dream.”

“Oh, yeah. No complaints there.” Mari grinned. “But right now I’m trying to get back into the right state of mind for a couple of fugitives from the most powerful enemies in the world. Our honeymoon cruise is over. It’s back to being constantly alert for people trying to kill or capture us.”

“Yes,” Alain agreed. “Our enemies, and your Guild in particular, have shown too much skill at anticipating our moves. No one should know that we have come here, though, so with any luck we will not have to worry about anyone waiting on the dock. Nor should anyone expect us to stay in Altis. Assuming we make it ashore without running into trouble, what do we do first?”

Mari looked down at her left hand. “One thing I regretted is that we didn’t have time to get promise rings in Caer Lyn. We’ll have to do that in Altis, first thing.”

“Before trying to find the tower?” Alain asked, surprised.

“Yes.” She spread her fingers, imagining a ring there. “I’ve made a great many sacrifices for the sake of others and I don’t think it’s unreasonable to want this one little thing to take priority. It won’t take all that long. We can’t afford anything really fancy, but then I don’t want anything fancy. Just plain gold bands for both of us. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes.” He paused. “Gold bands on our hands.”

“That’s right.” Mari gave him a rueful smile. “Just like in that vision of yours back in Dorcastle. We did get married.”

“What would you have done in Dorcastle if I had told you then about the gold bands? If I had known what they meant?”

She gasped a brief laugh. “That’s hard to say. By the time you did mention them I had already made some decisions about committing to you, but back then… stars above, Alain. I might have run.”

“It is well that I did not mention it, then.”

“Sure is.” Mari met his eyes, her face serious. “I need you in so many ways. What am I going to do if I lose you?”

“Keep trying. You must.”

She exhaled heavily, then held him close and kissed Alain quickly. “I’ll try, but I doubt that will be enough. There’s no way I can do this alone. The daughter needs her Mage.” Mari raised her free hand and rubbed the place under her coat where her pistol rested in its shoulder holster. She hadn’t worn it for part of the time they had been at sea, but she might need the weapon again soon. “No more visions?”

“No.”

“Have you been totally honest with me about your Mage powers? Are they really still strong?”

Alain nodded. “Yes. I sometimes feel that if should someone threaten you I could muster enough power to blow a hole the size of that harbor in a city.”

Mari let him see how startled she was by that. “All right. Let’s not blow up any cities on my account, if you don’t mind.” The White Wing tacked, swinging around toward the entrance to the harbor, Mari bracing herself against the railing as the deck tilted. “Now we need our minds on business. Let’s get our packs and get ready for trouble, just in case.” She kissed him again, longer this time, knowing they were probably getting more amused looks from the commons on board who knew they were newly married. “Welcome to Altis, my beloved Mage.”

The White Wing had anchored out from the quay, her boats shuttling passengers ashore. While most of the passengers had jostled for places to get on the first boats, Mari and Alain had held back. He kept an eye on things around them as Mari, from a position where she could not be easily seen, was using her far-seer to study the docks of the lower port without being obvious about it. “I can’t see anything that looks too suspicious,” Mari told him. “There are a few Mechanics visible down at one end, but they’re obviously working on something. I don’t see any Mages. Everybody in common clothing seems to have a good reason for being where they are, and when the first boat came in nobody jumped out of the shadows to arrest them all.”

Alain let his own gaze roam over the dock area. “My foresight tells me nothing.”

Mari sat back, chewing her lower lip as she put away her far-seer. “There is an Imperial warship in port, but there is no sign of trouble from that quarter, either. Do you think we finally got ahead of the reports and rumors and arrest orders?”

“No.” Alain gestured toward the north and east, memories of the events there crowding into his mind. “The stories spread by General Flyn’s soldiers in the Northern Ramparts will have found fertile ground here, there is no doubt. But we may have outrun the rumors of Mara for a while.”

“That’s one blessing, then.”

“It could be useful some day,” Alain suggested, “if we are confronted by superstitious Imperials.”

Mari turned her glare on him. “You’re crazy if you think for even one moment that I will ever play at being Mara.” She stood up, adjusting her pack. “I’m not going to miss hauling these packs around, let me tell you. Shall we get in line to get ashore?” She looked at Alain again, her expression becoming concerned. “What’s the matter?”

He was looking north, and only when she asked did Alain realize that he must have shown some feeling. “I was thinking of home. The home I had and lost.”

“I’m sorry,” Mari said, her voice full of apology. “I should have expected that would bother you and not have been so self-centered. Just remember that you’ve got another home now.” She took his hand and placed it over her heart. “Right here, and you’re always there. Now let’s go change the world.”

He smiled at her, feeling better. “Yes, Lady Mari.”

The line to board the boats was still fairly long, but Alain did not mind spending a little more time on the ship. It held memories that would never fade. He saw some of the other passengers they had spoken with, the commons who were soldiers in the Western Alliance, and somewhat awkwardly returned their waves of farewell. He saw that the woman soldier Patila once again kept her eyes on Mari, and that the soldiers’ skeptical friend Jorge avoided looking their way.

Mari held his arm as the line moved forward, until they reached the ladder to the boat and had to go down it single-file. She led him to seats near the stern of the boat, then as the boat cast off and the crew members began rowing it to the quay, Mari met his eyes, tapped the place under her arm where her weapon was kept, and sat alertly. The honeymoon was officially over.

Alain kept his eyes on the area ahead for any sign of trouble, but saw nothing suspicious as the boat came alongside the quay and tied up. Once ashore they joined another line for customs, eventually facing an official who looked relaxed and a little rumpled, a big contrast to the polished menace of the Imperial officers with whom Alain and Mari had been forced to deal for some time.

The customs officer held out a hand for their papers, and Mari handed over the false ones. “Imperials out of Emdin? What brings you to Altis?”

“Distant relatives,” Mari explained. “They’ve been asking us to visit, and this is a quiet season on the farm.”

“Well, you’ll have to get back soon for the spring planting, won’t you?” The official took another glance at the identification papers, shrugged, then began to hand back the papers.

He halted in mid-reach as another official hastened up and whispered to him, glancing toward Mari and Alain.

Mari’s attention was centered on the officials. Alain let his gaze roam, seeing the man Jorge standing some distance away and watching nervously, then turning to walk off with a fast gait.

The seated customs official gave Mari and Alain an appraising look as his comrade gestured to some nearby local police. “I am afraid we will have to question you further and search your belongings,” the customs official said.