Page 97 of The Cradle of Ice
He slowly shook his head. “Still, let’s see what this friend of the Fist wants to share with us.”
Tazar uncapped the tube and shook out a curl of black oilskin. The message had already been read, as the wax seal was sliced open. When he held it back together, it did indeed show the five-petaled bud of the Razen Rose.
He unrolled it, pinching the scroll between his fingers. He read the neat lines of script. As he did, his body grew chilled, his breath catching in his throat.
“What does it say?” Althea asked.
“It … It’s a note, dated yesterday, sent from those who kidnapped the emperor’s son and daughter. It says they’ll be crossing the Scarp and heading to Malgard.”
“That makes no sense,” Althea said. “All rumors say the kidnappers were headed north, rushing for Hálendii.”
“But what if they’re wrong?”
Althea shook her head. “It must be a ruse, some trick to lure us into another ambush.”
Tazar was not so sure. “I saw the emperor’s arrowsprite flaming off in that same direction.”
“Right, to consult his Augury. The entire city knows that by now.”
“But what if that’s just an excuse? What if he’s headed to meet those kidnappers to retrieve his son and daughter?”
Tazar pictured Aalia, her lips hard with disdain, her eyes flashing with indignant fire. He had failed to secure her days ago, whereas another had been successful. He remembered the Hálendiian prince thwarting the Fist’s ambush. He had believed the bastard was defending Aalia, but now it was clear.
The prince was merely protecting his own plot to abduct her later.
A masterful stroke, one deserving of respect.
Still, his fist closed hard on his scimitar’s hilt. If Prince Kanthe was truly that clever, was it possible he had not gone north as everyone expected—but headed south instead?
Tazar knew the answer.
Of course he would.
Althea touched his shoulder. “Tazar?”
“Gather all of our forces, those who are still hale enough for fast travel.”
“Why?”
“We’re heading to Qazen.”
“But—”
He lifted his hand, brooking no argument, growing more certain with each beat of his heart. The emperor was there, with only a scant escort. He rubbed his bearded chin, considering his options. Kysalimri had become too dangerous for the Fist. Those that remained would be unable to accomplish anything here.
But if they left for Qazen …
No one would expect the Fist so far from the Eternal City.
He again pictured the Illuminated Rose of the Imri-Ka. Aalia would be worth more than all the gold they’d lost today.
But his ambitions grew far grander.
Tazar gripped Althea’s arm, trying to share his passion. “We can’t ignore this opportunity—to exact revenge for those killed this day, to strike a blow against the very heart of the imperium.”
Still, he kept silent about one last prospect.
The chance to destroy that upstart Hálendiian prince.
