The Council building had gone from a place of constant activity to being as empty as the desert. Most of the staff were reassigned help with urgent preparations around the town, while a few, like Marico, had been granted leave to assist with the evacuation of more remote orchards and smallholdings. Kavilas was as busy as ever, and had gone to investigate reports of more houses on fire, as well as dubious rumours of another dead body.
The marshal returned sooner than she expected, and from the tightness of his jaw, he had more grave news for her.
“Urzed is at the town walls, near the eastern gate,” he told her. “He has hostages and is demanding to speak with ‘the ruler’, as he puts it. I’ve sent word to all the councillors to meet us there.”
“Who are the hostages?” At least she knew Sarnd and Jessa were both at home with Elian, complaining about restrictions being placed on their movements.
“There are two, taken from an outlying orchard. One of them is Marico.”
After all the muscle and sweat invested in repairs over the last few days, the town’s main defences were only wood. Everyone in Naerun knew flames could reduce wood to ashes. If Urzed was as powerful as the stories claimed, would any material be enough to stop him?
Betharad waited with Kavilas, Pavena and the Council members in the doorway of a storage building. The location provided some shelter while still affording them a reasonable view of the land outside the walls. Even then, she thought they were too exposed. Kavilas had impressed upon them that if he or Pavena ordered them to take cover, they were to obey without hesitation. Betharad would do whatever they told her without question.
Despite entreaties from the protectors and the marshal himself, a number of locals were watching too, looking out from windows or peering around the corners of nearby buildings. She even noticed faces at the windows of a couple of houses outside the walls.
The real and immediate problem was the welfare of the hostages, Marico and a woman who looked so like him, they had to be related. As far as Betharad could tell from this distance, they were unharmed, though they looked dazed and frightened. They stood guarded by four Enjeb about fifty paces from the wall, their arms bound behind their backs. Betharad felt a strong impulse to call out reassurances to them, but of course it was a foolish idea.
Another six Enjeb waited a little further away, a figure in their midst who she assumed was Urzed, though it was hard to get a clear view of him. Long, naked blades hung on their belts, flashing when the sun broke through the clouds.
Why was Urzed holding back? Kavilas had already announced they were ready to listen to what he had to say. Perhaps he was toying with them, making them sweat and worry in order to weaken them. It might be working; next to her, Caldos was trembling slightly, while in the corner of her vision she saw Arvica raise a hand to her brow.
As for Betharad, she thought she was prepared to hear Urzed’s demands, no matter how alarming.
She thought she saw Marico looking in her direction, so she nodded towards him. She was relieved to see him incline his head in response.
At last, the knot of Enjeb parted and Urzed walked forward.
Despite the heat, a heavy-looking grey cloak billowed out behind Urzed as he strode toward them. Perhaps his power, or his injuries, meant the heat and humidity had little effect on him. Or it could be that he enjoyed making a dramatic entrance.
All the descriptions Betharad had heard were accurate, and yet inadequate in all respects. Yes, his hair was gone and his broken, stained teeth stood out in the mass of lumpy scar tissue that had been his face—the legacy of his battle with her parents.
But he had a confident, arrogant bearing which drew every gaze his way. His clear eyes blazed forth from the ruins of his features, sending a challenge which almost stopped her breath, though he wasn’t looking at her. It was like staring into the sun.
Kavilas must have detected some of what she felt, because he squeezed her elbow and she came back to herself with a jolt. Could the Enjeb leader be using the Lifespring to ensorcell them? She had to remain on her guard.
Urzed opened his arms wide as he came to a stop five paces from the wall, and said, “So you have come; that is good. Who rules here?”
When Betharad opened her mouth to speak, her throat was dry as the Sandy soil. You wanted to be steward, she told herself, so be one. But the wall in between them looked so fragile and Urzed too close.
“I am responsible for the security and defence of the town and its people,” said Kavilas, his voice ringing out. “What do you want?”
The Enjeb leader sneered. “When I came here many years ago, I was met with much more formidable adversaries.” He gestured behind him towards the hostages, an action which brought his long, talon-like fingernails to Betharad’s attention. “You see we have taken two of your people. Very, very easily. You should be much more careful.”
“We demand you free them without delay,” said Kavilas in an even tone, though his jaw was tight and his brows were set in a hard line.
Urzed laughed. “Not so fast. I am sure you know how this happens. They will be exchanged for what I am seeking.”
Betharad found her voice at last.
“And what do you want from us in return?” To her ears, she sounded hoarse and shrill, but she could not afford to be distracted.
Urzed stared at her, and she began to regret bringing his mesmerising gaze on to her. He may as well have drawn his blade and skewered her, leaving her unable to move or think without great effort. “And who are you?” he asked, his voice carrying despite being so soft. And so menacing.
Kavilas squeezed her elbow. “What do you want?” she repeated. At least her voice sounded stronger.
“You received my note?”
“Note?” muttered Arvica, and Betharad experienced a pang of guilt she had not revealed that to the other councillors.
The Enjeb leader shrugged. “You have a male and female within your paltry walls—twins, you call them. I do not know their names but I have no doubt you are aware of who I speak. Give them to me, and I will return these others unharmed. We will also stop any current attacks on your town.”
Agitated murmurs broke from the assembled councillors and townspeople at this, and Kavilas clenched his fists as if he fought a desire to leap over the wall and grab Urzed by the throat. Perhaps he did.
Urzed was talking about Jessa and Sarnd—he had said as much before. Yet Betharad felt calm, almost removed from the situation.
“Why do you want them?” she asked. There could be no benign purpose at the root of Urzed’s plots, and Jessa’s theory the Enjeb would do them no harm had to be wishful thinking. But Betharad had no way of fathoming out the thoughts and desires of someone like Urzed, and the key questions in her mind were the same: Why does he seek Sarnd and Jessa in particular?
And why is he not asking for me?
She could tell him she was their sister, to see what reaction that provoked. But she refused to hand the man any more advantages than those he already held.
Urzed laughed again. “If you do not know, you will never understand.” He grew serious and addressed the whole group. “I will return here at this time tomorrow to hear your answer. I am feeling generous, but you will not receive more. And if you think I am prepared to give up and disappear again, consider this.” He pointed at the wall and a heartbeat later, a section about ten paces wide burst into flames.
The whole assembly jumped, some ducking into the nearest cover they could find. Betharad was grateful to have Kavilas beside her, a source of quiet strength that enabled her to stand firmer.
She braced herself for more, but Urzed turned and sauntered back to his followers. Within minutes the Enjeb and their hostages had dissolved into the scrubby bushes.