Ward—gods help them if they try. Oreg doesn't have Ward's fine political sensibilities. Tosten's gone for
Duraugh—and that man is as sly a politician as ever was bred from this family. If Duraugh can't get him
out by negotiation, Oreg can get him out with power. Ward's safe enough. Don't fret. We just need to decide how to keep you safe."
Keep her safe? Would Ward have gone with them if he hadn't had to worry about her? Tisala shook her head firmly. "I came here because I was hurt and needed a place to hide while I healed. I can keep myself safe. Give me some food and I'll be fine. You don't have to do anything more for me—but"—
she
leaned forward—"maybe I can do something for you."
"Oh?" Stala pulled a chair up and sat close enough for soft conversation. "What can you do for us?"
"Much of my work these past years for Alizon has been with people not in favor with Jakoven, such people who have a tendency to end up in the Asylum." There, that was as fine a line between lie and truth
as she'd ever trod. "As a result, I know a lot about the Asylum and how it operates. If politics don't work, and someone has to break in to get him out—I can help."
If the Hurogs were more loyal to the royal house than Tisala believed, she might just have signed away everything she'd worked for. The Hurog family had strong ties with tradition, and tradition had them supporting the king no matter how he treated them. Tisala was betting that Stala and Ward's uncle loved Ward more than they loved tradition.
"Most of the people imprisoned there are people of little consequence or power," commented Stala. "At least now."
Tisala forced a smile. "Most of the people who support Alizon are people of little consequence. But there are a growing number of them."
Stala let out a breath. "Right. I won't stop you leaving as soon as you wish, but waiting for Duraugh might be better. He knows when a mouse sneezes in Estian; he'll know how to use your information."
"When is he coming?"
"Tosten set out to find him as soon as Ward left. Perhaps as little as four days." Surely Ward could survive a short time in the Asylum. It would take days of travel before he was actually in Estian. She knew a man who'd lived there for years.
Tisala stretched her stiff neck. "I'll wait for Lord Duraugh." Tisala slept most of the day, and awoke the following morning feeling much better, especially after she ate the enormous breakfast that had been left to cool by her bedside. When she finished eating, she stretched out gingerly. Sweat poured off her forehead anyway, but when she was finished, most of her stiffness was gone.
Ward's staff, which she took from its place against the wall near his sword, was too long. Her left hand, as Oreg had speculated, wouldn't grip right, so she had to alter some of the steps accordingly. Generated by ABC Amber LIT Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abclit.html Stala came in without knocking as Tisala was in the middle of turning a slow cartwheel using the staff as
an extension of her hands. If the ceiling had been lower, or the room smaller, it wouldn't have worked.
"Not a particularly useful move," Stala observed dryly.
Landing lightly on her feet, Tisala smiled neutrally. "I've found it very useful in my line of work. In the middle of the second act, the warrior goddess teaches the hero how to defeat the emperor's evil wizard. It doesn't bring in much, but it pays for my room and board."
"You've been acting?"
"Ward's told you about what I was doing in Estian," said Tisala. It was a safe enough guess. Now that she wouldn't be able to go back to it, there was no harm in Ward's aunt knowing about her role. "As Haverness's daughter I couldn't work—not and keep my status as a lady, but being a spy is an expensive
lifestyle."
Her father had sent her money once, but she'd told him not to do it again. The chances of someone making the connection were too great—and Jakoven would love to have an excuse to take
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