GARET AND DORICT were still waiting on the steps when Marick returned.
“They’re coming back,” Ratal said, using two higher steps and his own height to an advantage. The Gold had been there for hours, following his Master’s orders to guard the doors of the Banehall.
“Who are all those with them?” Dorict asked. He needed neither Ratal’s height nor his elevated position to see that the group was much larger than the one that had set out.
Garet strained his eyes to make something out in the bobbing light of the torches the arrivals carried. He caught glints of light reflecting off steel breastplates and the heads of pikes.
“I think the King’s Guard comes with them,” he said.
“And some Ward Guards too, or I’m still seeing double,” Kesla said. The Gold had come out of her sick bed to stand watch with her teammates. She still had a bandage wrapped around her head and leaned on her flail to keep from falling. Ratal’s most passionate pleas had not persuaded her to return to the infirmary. She had snatched the weapon he had borrowed and snapped, “Get your own, oaf!” and then glared at Garet to smother any further argument against her presence.
The group was close enough now to prove her right. The Masters clustered around a handcart, the King’s Guards surrounded them, and the Fifth Ward Guards trailed behind, looking like they wished they were somewhere else.
The Hallmaster was easily located by his raised voice.
“No, Captain. You will not ask questions of the lad. This is Bane business. I shall inform the King, when I find the time appropriate! You there, at the gates! Stand ready to close them and secure the Hall.”
Ratal rushed down to do so, and Garet followed reluctantly, leaving Dorict with the injured Gold. The King’s Guard came no further than the iron fence, and the Ward Guards had already turned eagerly towards the bridge gates. Together, he and Ratal pushed the heavy ironwork shut and threw the bar across to lock it.
The big Gold set himself there as if he meant to stay all night and repel the squadron of armed guards with just the superior look on his face. The Captain stood and returned his stare for a moment, then signaled her squad to about-face and march back to the Palace. Ratal preened and turned to Garet.
“The nerve of those arrogant fools to come against the Banehall!” he said.
“Were they coming against us?” Garet asked. “It looked to me like they were guarding the Masters. Can I leave? I have to go and see how Marick is.”
Ratal nodded nobly and turned to face the darkened plaza.
“I will remain here,” he said.
With Dorict’s help, they got Kesla through the crowds of confused Banes in the hallways and back to the infirmary. By the time they laid her on her cot, she was sweating and green in the face.
“Claws! Next time I might just take Banerict’s advice and stay in bed.”
The physician came up and took her pulse. He made the appropriate disapproving noises and moved on to where Marick lay amid a circle of onlookers. Among the Red Sashes, Garet spotted a Gold one. He slipped through to stand beside Salick. Dorict appeared at his elbow, and they all looked down at the wounded Bane.
“He’s never been happier,” Dorict growled. “All this fuss over him? It’s all he’s ever wanted.”
“Dorict?” came a weak voice from the bed. “Is that you, friend Dorict?”
The stout Blue relented at the pitiful sound of his friend’s voice and came close to take his hand.
“Are you all right? Were you badly hurt?” he asked.
Everyone surrounding the bed leaned in closer to hear the answer.
The all-too innocent face nestled amongst the pillows and blankets whispered, “Banerict said I might have died.”
Dorict sniffed.
“Actually,” the Physician shouted, “I said I might kill you myself, if I recall.”
The usually compassionate man glared at his patient and then the other Banes.
“Sometimes you are all too foolish for words! I have set more broken bones than all the other physicians in the city combined. I have stitched up tears from claws, punctures from teeth, slashes from demon skull-ridges, and Heaven knows what else. I have healed an uncountable number of training injuries including broken toes and fingers, wrenched shoulders, twisted knees, ankles, and torn muscles I had no idea existed until I came here. Now add to that all the other ills of a Bane: nightmares, nervous collapse, loss of appetite, broken hearts, and so on. I have even had the misfortune,” and here he glared at Garet and Salick, “of tending Banes punctured by swords. But that isn’t enough for you suicidal idiots! Now you bring me arrow wounds!”
He threw up his hands. “What is this city coming to?” he asked, and his audience wisely chose silence and retreat as their only answer.
The others left until only Dorict, Salick, and Garet remained, along with Tarix who sat on the sleeping Kesla’s bed and watched the physician boil.
“Easy, Banerict. I’m sure Marick didn’t go looking for that wound,” she said. “How bad is it?”
The stooped man huffed and then answered, “Not too bad. Luckily it just pierced the outside of his thigh. A bit to the left and it would have been but a scratch. As it is, he’s lost enough blood to make him weak for a day or so. You can all stay for just a moment, then let the boy rest.”
And with that, he was off to his room at the end of the infirmary, his progress marked by muttering.
Tarix left Kesla to sit on a stool beside Marick’s bed.
“Oh, that’s good to rest the leg. I daren’t tell Banerict I overdid it by running all the way to the Fifth Ward. He’d burst like over-ripe fruit!”
She looked at Marick, who moaned at her. The Red frowned.
“I told Banerict I didn’t think you went looking for that arrow, but we both know that is exactly what you did. Idiot! No, don’t try your tricks on me. Moaning won’t help you now. Marick, I swear by Heaven’s Shield that I will feed you to a demon myself if you don’t immediately tell me all that went on and what clawed reason you had to do it!”
Marick sat up, looking less at death’s door and more on his best behaviour. He avoided the glares of his friends, especially one from Dorict that might have set him on fire.
“Master, I really didn’t try to get hurt! It just turned out that way. I was helping the Hall, and I just got into a little trouble, that’s all.”
“A little trouble?” Salick said. “Little trouble doesn’t need the protection of Bane, King, and Ward, or come back with a hole in its leg!”
Garet bit his tongue. He had tried to make the boy more responsible, but Marick would always be Marick. There was no doubt he would lead an interesting life, no matter how short it was.
“Talk,” said Tarix.
An hour later, Banerict shooed them out of the infirmary, and Tarix took the others to the room she shared with Relict. Her husband was sitting at a table mending a tear in his sash when they came in.
“What’s this, company at such a late, no, I suppose early hour. My dear, how is your leg? I saw how hard you worked to keep up.”
Tarix shrugged. “Painful, but if that is what it costs, that is what I’ll pay. Now listen to what Marick told us.”
She repeated the story of the Blue’s spying on the Masks and his narrow escape. Relict’s eyes widened at the young Bane’s near-capture at the Bridge Gate.
“Well, luck is better than wisdom, it seems. Though it was a clever trick with the jewel.”
Salick shook her head.
“One that might have gone badly wrong had that old woman opened the box too early or too late, Master. But what surprises me is that the Mask, Shirin, gave up the chase to go fight what she thought was a demon.”
Relict nodded. “Branet would hate to hear me say this, but it was a very Banelike decision. He has sent a demand to the King that ‘all false Banes’ must be captured at once. The wording of that letter was insulting enough that I doubt the King will even reply. And Trax is on his side, if our Hallmaster would just notice. The fortune-teller who sheltered Marick sent word to both the Hall and the Palace, and the King ordered out his guards right away to protect us on the way back.”
“There were some Ward Guards too,” Garet said.
Tarix sat on the bed and raised her leg. She took off the brace, and Relict put a cushion under her knee.
“Those were from the Fifth Ward,” she said. “Lord Sacourat wished to be seen as helpful and loyal, I would guess.”
“There are only thirty or so Masks, according to Marick. They would never have dared attack a party that large,” Relict added.
“Then what do they want?” Garet said.
“To replace us,” Dorict said. There were shadows under the boy’s eyes, and Garet remembered that none of them had slept that night, and now the dawn was almost upon them.
“That’s what Shirin told you,” Salick said.
Tarix nodded, but Garet shook his head.
“She may have said that, but really, how could they? Thirty Masks and sixteen Wards to patrol? They can’t believe it would work! I think she, and maybe all of them, just want to fight demons.”
“An odd wish,” Dorict said. “Maybe they should talk to Banerict, and he can list all our common injuries for them. It might put them off.”
Relict laughed. “It almost put me off. We’d better ask him to keep quiet, or some Banes will be looking for a less dangerous job.”
“Would they?” Garet asked. “Do you know of any Bane who would stop fighting demons?”
The others looked at him. Salick bit her lip. Tarix shook her head.
Leaning back against the pillows, the Red said, “No Bane I ever met would stop protecting the city. Even Adrix’s threat to do so was a bluff, for the Masters would never have agreed.”
“Why?” Garet asked.
Salick answered, “Because you just can’t stand by if . . . if . . .”
“If you can make a difference,” Dorict said, and the room fell silent for a time.
Relict poured water for his wife, then his guests.
“Maybe every man and woman in Shirath would do the same if they could,” he said. “And maybe I’ve judged these Masks too harshly.”
Salick bristled. “They tried to kill Marick, and that woman threatened Garet. Doesn’t that matter?”
Garet put an arm around her shoulder. She was shaking with fatigue and anger.
“I’m all right, and so is Marick for all his moaning. Something is still hidden from us. I think that the Masks are being used. The big man, the one with the axe we saw, Marick said he tried to order Shirin around, as if he spoke for someone else. He even forced her to hide until things calmed down, so I don’t think she’s really in charge.”
“If only we knew where she was hiding, we could go ask her,” Dorict said. His head drooped, and he jerked it back up again.
“I’m too tired to think now, Masters. I must get some sleep.”
“Go, all of you,” Relict said. “And keep out of trouble.”
Dorict could barely climb the stairs and fell down on his bed still dressed. Garet yawned and pulled off the boy’s boots and then his own. Salick watched him from the doorway, her eyes half-closed.
“Garet, I can’t believe you’re defending Shirin, after all she’s done to the Hall,” she said, and slid away when he tried to embrace her.
“My love, I’m not defending her. I’m trying to understand her! If we want to end this foolishness, we’ll have to do it by talking, like we did last winter. The Palace, the Hall, you and me: we’ve always been stronger when we work together.”
This time she did not evade his arms, nor his mouth as he kissed her goodnight, but there was no smile on her face as she broke away and went off to her own room.