Bayern 3 - River Secrets by Shannon Hale

Author:Shannon Hale
Language: sr
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-09-19T18:07:15+00:00

18

A Ram’s-Head Ring

Razo found Talone two days later sitting on his bunk at the barracks, his forehead resting on his fist.

“Are you grayer than you were?” asked Razo, rubbing his own temples.

Talone smiled grimly, and Razo decided he would rather not know what had happened in that cell.

“I do not believe that they’re the burners.”

“Ah, Captain, don’t tell me that. They’ve got to be!”

Talone shook his head. “I don’t think so. They belong to that Manifest Tira group. One was former military and from a moderately wealthy family, the other a poor boy who felt cheated when the quick end to the war stole his chance to fight. Their confidence was frightening—they believe all of Tira will hail them as heroes for even attempting to kill the ambassador. They hate Bayern, no doubt, but a bungled assassination of the ambassador in the midst of the assembly is juvenile, desperate, clumsy. The burner is following a much more sophisticated plan.”

“Aimed at the same results—a repeat of the war.”

“Perhaps.” Talone’s voice was too tired to have emotion. “Manifest Tira claims that Tira is destined to inherit any nation that touches its borders, and war is the sacred means to claim that destiny. They are brash, fearless, like the soldier who flung himself into the Bayern barracks just to kill as many as he could before being killed himself. But the burner is shrouded, slow, and secretive, and seemingly murdering fellow Tiran just to incite hatred of Bayern. That’s a different kind of evil. Smells like revenge to me, vengeance for a deep, ugly wound.

“This does not bode well for Megina, or any of us,” said Talone, rubbing his eyes. “The burner attacks from the shadows, secretive, calculating. But Manifest Tira…”

“People know them,” said Razo. “They’re cousins and neighbors, and they’re out in the market saying vile things about Bayern. They couldn’t be a secret if the people of Ingridan didn’t choose to protect them.”

Talone nodded, his eyes closed. “Those two would not give up the names of their cohorts, but one did reveal the location of their meetings. Belvan’s men will have cleared out any lingering members of Manifest Tira by now. Even if they’re not the burners, they’re still a threat to our mission. I want you to take a look.”

Talone gave him directions to a warehouse on the western edge of the city and was half-asleep when he told him to be careful. Razo clicked the door shut under the sound of a snore.

He wore plain Tiran garb, the only bits that had as yet escaped the dye pots. The sky was vague with clouds still disputing the question of rain, but Razo shaded his head with his lummas and hoped no one would wonder why. He hopped in the back of a penny wagon through the heart, then made his way on foot past the pungent luxury of the spice market and the sour, stifled air of the slaughter district.

Sometimes his sandals flapped on the stones, echoing in alleyways, invoking the sound of someone following.

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