A Country Falls (Greatest Thief 3) - Chapter 20: Chapter 20

"He wasn't the target," Kalvahi said.
"He's my prisoner," Kassia replied sharply, and she switched to Deoran. It sounded like they were moving, and sure enough, a moment later Sarnio grabbed my arm and tugged me along. I quickly lost interest in what Kassia and Kalvahi were talking about, and concentrated on our route. Knowing our way back out to the secret river entrance would probably be helpful. At least, more helpful than listening to an argument in Deoran.
Before long, their voices went off in one direction and we were dragged in another. A handful of hallways, turns and doorways later, the bags were pulled off of our heads. Sarnio untied us from each other, but didn't bother freeing our hands. He tossed me into the cell first, where I landed painfully on my shoulder and only just rolled out of the way before Castin landed on me. Kovin stumbled as he was pushed in to join us. Mayah wasn't there. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not.
Sarnio and the man who had been helping him strolled off down the hall. Once I couldn't hear them anymore, I got to work. I pulled my legs up to my chest and managed to slip my arms around my feet so they were in front of me. I attacked the knot with my teeth. It wasn't efficient, but it was effective, and soon I tossed the rope to the floor and got to my feet.
I helped Castin first, then Kovin. Castin was on his feet right away, eyeing the cell with a practiced eye.
"The window's pretty high," he said.
I didn't have to look. I had already realized the cell was exactly like the one I had been in with the knights. "The wall's too smooth to climb, anyway. Last time I had to be lifted to the window." I caught Castin's glance towards Kovin and shook my head. "No, he's not tall enough."
"You can't jump it?"
"Well..." I had jumped to escape Deoran guards in the hallway, but it wasn't a skill I was confident in. "I guess I could try it. But that just gets me out into the hall, it doesn't get you two out of the cell. It doesn't get us the key. Also, last time I had the knights to fight our way out."
Castin crossed his arms. "You can get us back to that secret door."
I nodded. "Of course I can."
Kovin was rubbing his wrists where the rope had chafed, eyes flickering between us as we spoke. "Weren't you wearin' a bag, mate? How d'you know the way t' the door?"
"It's just something I can do," I replied, before turning back to Castin. "And the locked door?"
"Can you pick it?"
"Maybe, but we shouldn't count on it," I said. "We'd be better off getting the key."
Already, this imprisonment felt different. It wasn't just the lack of knights, it was Castin. He thought like I did. He knew what I was capable of, and I knew what he was capable of. The knights had trusted me to work things out, and I had trusted them to fight. With Castin, there was more back and forth. We could try to plan something together.
I ran over our skills in my head. I was better at pickpocketing, Castin was undoubtedly better at fighting. We could both climb, and we were good at sneaking around. I was better at speaking and thinking quickly, but Castin was fully capable of following along with any act I might spring on him. Then there were signals that simply came from knowing each other so well—telling glances, subtle actions, Baisan's whistle.
Kovin was the surprise. I turned to him more abruptly than necessary. "What are you good at?"
He had stopped rubbing his wrists, instead his fingers were toying with one of the many rope bracelets around his left wrist. His fingers went still as he stared at me. "I'm a... I'm a sailor, mate."
"Yes, I know that. What about skills?"
"Oh, well... reckon I'm pretty strong. Haulin' on lines your whole life will do that, aye?"
That much I could have figured out. Kovin and Castin were about the same height, but even with the muscles he had developed in the army, Castin was still fairly wiry. Kovin was bulkier, and it made sense given the kind of life he led. "What about fighting?"
"Hold my own in a fist fight, I reckon," Kovin said with a self-conscious shrug. "Not so good with knives and the like."
I went silent, vague ideas coming together in my head. But it was too early to really try to plan anything. We needed to know more about what was going on and what sort of opportunities we might have. We also had to figure out where Mayah was being kept. Food and water would be nice, too.
I sat down, knowing full well that Castin and Kovin were watching me, and waiting for me to say something. "We need to wait out a few days," I said. "Until we know more."
Castin grumbled and lowered himself to the floor. He didn't sit, he lay down and linked his hands under his head. "Anything we should know about the man who recognized you?"
"Prince Kalvahi," I said. "Heir to the throne." I looked at Kovin, and when he finally sat down, I started to tell them everything I had learned about Kalvahi during my last stay in the Deoran prison.
We were left alone for days. There was no way of figuring out why. Maybe they were busy with Mayah, or Kassia was still angry at me, or she was still arguing with Kalvahi about what to do with me. Whatever the reason, life in the cell quickly became tedious. As it often did with me, fear eventually gave away to boredom. I spent a long time thinking about my various conversations with Kassia, mulling over her accusations and observations.
Castin and Kovin didn't handle the confinement as calmly as I did. Castin, who could usually be counted on to lean against walls or windowsills and be still, channeled his nervousness into pacing. Although we had always communicated with taunts, his became more biting. He snapped at me more often than once, but I shrugged it off. It was easy to see that he didn't mean a word of it.
Kovin, on the other hand, hardly spoke. Mostly he sat against the back wall, watching Castin warily. He only ever got close to Castin when I called him over to eat. We weren't fed particularly well, but after a few whispered arguments with Castin, I subtly made sure Kovin ate more than either of us. He needed to keep up his strength, and Castin and I could handle being a little hungry.
While I got along well enough with both of them, it didn't take me long to get tired of the way they avoided each other. So one day, after we'd eaten our stale bread and bits of dried meat, I got to my feet. The plan came to me in a rush. When the knights were anxious or bored, Acen made them fight. When they were angry at each other, he made them fight. It was training, but it was always more than that. A distraction, a way to work out their frustrations, a way to impress each other.
"Get up."
Kovin did immediately, and brushed his hands off on his pants. Castin hesitated just long enough to make a point before standing and crossing his arms.
They weren't knights, but I was sure it would still work. "We can't just sit around all day. You two need to practice fighting."
"I'll fight you," Castin grumbled.
"That won't be helpful," I said. "You can beat me with your eyes closed. It won't teach you anything, and it won't teach me anything. You two are going to fight."
They gave each other nearly identical looks, sizing each other up.
"Come on." I ushered them both into the middle of the cell. "Remember, you're not trying to actually hurt each other. You're just practicing." I imagined Acen standing next to me. The types of questions he would ask and the things he would say. "Kovin has an obvious size advantage, but that doesn't mean he'll win. Castin grew up with a knife in his hand, so that's the kind of fighting he's familiar with. So Kovin, you can teach Castin some fist fighting tricks. And Cast, you can teach Kovin about weapons. We'll have to use our imaginations for that, of course. Still... go ahead."
They both looked at me blankly.
"Look, I need to see how you both fight so I can think about how we'll escape." I waved my hand at Kovin. "Throw a punch."
He did, cautiously. Castin ducked and Kovin's fist flew harmlessly over his head. Then it was if Castin's army training kicked in. He lashed out, and his punch caught Kovin in the stomach.
Kovin stepped back, but otherwise didn't seem bothered in the slightest. "That it?" He knocked aside Castin's immediate follow up, and hooked a foot around Castin's ankle. Castin went down, but before even landing he was rolling back onto his feet.
They started sparring in earnest. I called out suggestions and observations as they came to me. Castin was quick and agile, he could usually avoid punches and kicks. Kovin wasn't good at avoiding them, but he could weather most hits to his body and he knew it. To protect his head, he took hits to his shoulders or did his best to deflect Castin's attacks elsewhere.
When they got tired of fist fighting, I encouraged Castin to teach Kovin about knives and swords. That round wasn't nearly as physical. Mostly Castin just talked and mimed certain moves. Kovin mimicked him and asked plenty of questions. I chimed in with helpful tidbits, grateful of Acen's insistence that I watch the knights so closely.
The distraction worked well. Judging from the light coming through our window, most of the afternoon had passed by. But even better than the distraction, was the new way Castin and Kovin were looking at each other as we all sat down. Kovin even felt brave enough to give Castin a friendly thump on the shoulder.
"So, maybe this trainin' thing might be helpful after all, aye, Soldier?"
"Maybe," Castin agreed. Which, by his standards, was actually very friendly. Then his eyes locked on me and I realized I had been smiling. "Proud of yourself?"
I laughed. "Aren't I always? So, how are we going to pass the time now that we're all friends? Kovin, any Crelan stories you could tell us?"
"Reckon I can tell you the story o' the Sailor King," Kovin said.
"Hold on. Why do you talk like that?" Castin lay down, proof that the fighting had helped with his anxious energy.
Kovin looked puzzled. "'m Crelan, mate. Why d'you talk like you do, then?"
"It's because we're from Zianna," I explained. "We have a dialect." It was a word I had been taught nearly six years earlier. "But it's different with you, isn't it? I know other Crelans, and they only talk like you do when they're on a ship. Or they're drunk"
"Aye, right." Kovin picked up a bit of gravel and tossed it from one hand to the other, and back again. "That's 'cause some o' us try t' hide the accent, t' fit in better with the Teltans, right? I can..." he paused, a look of concentration flashing across his face. "I can do it, if I really try. I just don't spend a lot of time with Teltans, so I usually don't. You mean those two famous ones? Captain Roland's nephews?"
I nodded, in awe of how Kovin had just changed his voice. I had never seen Kor or Ender do it so deliberately. They slipped into their accents when they stepped foot on a ship, or got excited, or drunk. Kovin had erased his accent on purpose.
"They probably taught themselves to talk like this, so they could get good jobs in the army," Kovin said, in flawless Teltish. "We call it High Crelan Teltish, usually. Most of us from West Draulin naturally speak Middle Crelan Teltish. Crelans from the Island speak Low Crelan Teltish."
"Is it hard to switch?"
Kovin shrugged, and when he spoke it was with his usual accent. "Takes practice, is all. Lot's o' people sort o' hover 'tween High and Middle, then swing one way or the other, dependin' on who they're talkin' to. So. D'you wanna hear 'bout the Sailor King?"
I nodded. "Of course! We'll tell you some of our stories after." I nudged Castin's foot with my own. "Right, Cast?"
He grunted in a way that sounded a little affirmative.
Kovin chuckled. "All right. Well, once upon a time, in a lost land, there was a dyin' kingdom. The kingdom was ruled by a man named the Sailor King."
I settled down beside Castin to listen.