Free Rise of a Hero (The Farsala Trilogy) by Hilari Bell

going,” said Siddas, almost as if he was reading Jiaan’s mind. He gestured to one of the messengers.
    T HE STREETS THROUGH WHICH the guardsman led Jiaan were so empty they echoed. He brought Jiaan to a wheelwright’s shop, in the north side of the city. The shop appeared to be empty, but the gate from the alley into the work yard opened when the guardsman pulled the latch string. The yard was full of workbenches, sawdust, and the clean scent of fresh-cut wood.
    “I’ll leave you here,” he said, pulling a large cotton square from his belt purse and flipping it expertly into a roll. It looked like the kind of cloth peasant women tied over their hair, but old and ragged. “I hope you don’t mind waiting blindfolded?”
    “Not at all,” said Jiaan, though he wasn’t sure it was true. “I see you’ve done this before.”
    The guard looked flattered. “Only once,” headmitted. “And I never take anyone past this point. I don’t know where the entrance is, but most of the guards don’t even know there’s a . . . way.”
    Which was sensible if Siddas wasn’t certain of their steadfastness.
    Jiaan turned his back and allowed the guard to tie the cloth over his eyes. He’d never been blindfolded before, except for childhood games. Now he realized that the indulgent adults who’d tied those blindfolds had deliberately left them loose enough for a child to see the ground at his feet. The tight-tied cloth pressed on his eyelids. When Jiaan opened them a crack—as wide as he could, without the cloth getting into his eyes—he saw nothing but darkness.
    “All right?” the guard asked.
    “I . . . Yes, it’s fine,” said Jiaan firmly.
    “Then I’ll leave you. You shouldn’t have to wait long,” he added kindly.
    Jiaan heard the yard gate open and close. He hadn’t noticed that it creaked when they came in.
    It was unexpectedly disconcerting, being sightless in a strange place. Even though Jiaan was certain Siddas would send only men whowould help him, he found himself thinking about how vulnerable he was. Anyone could take him out with a single blow from a club, and Jiaan wouldn’t even know it was coming. No doubt that was why he’d been left in this enclosed space, so no ill-intentioned bypasser could take advantage of him.
    He thought about taking the blindfold off—or loosening it—but he knew that if he was caught doing so, the guides would take him no farther. So he kept his hands down, as the moments dragged by. He wondered what the Hrum were doing now. Had they reached the city yet?
    He was almost ready to start groping for a bench to sit on—why hadn’t he noted their location before the guard blindfolded him?—when he heard the gate creak again. He stiffened in alarm, even as a man’s voice said softly, “Ready to go, sir?”
    “Yes.” Jiaan knew he sounded curt, but it felt strange to talk to someone whose face he couldn’t see.
    The man tucked Jiaan’s hand through his elbow, as though he was blind in truth. The cloth of his sleeve was warm, and had been coarse, but itwas now soft with wear and washing. He led Jiaan out through the gate, but instead of turning back toward the street, they headed farther down the alley. Jiaan tried to keep up with the man’s walking pace, but the stones were rougher than on the main streets. The man seemed to be leading him carefully, but Jiaan still stumbled several times.
    Carefully, but confusingly. After a score of turns, Jiaan became certain the man was walking him in circles—yet another precaution Jiaan approved of, though he couldn’t help but try to remember their route, to attempt to determine their direction in the rare moments when he could feel the sun on his face and hands.
    They walked for what felt like a very long time, but Jiaan guessed they were no more than a handful of streets from where they started when his guide came to a stop. “A moment, sir.”
    Metal clashed softly, and stone grated on stone. The sound echoed, and