They could not stay on the rooftops forever—they risked broken limbs, siege and dead ends—so when they had drawn a precious minute or two ahead, they used the time to make their way down a drainpipe onto the street.
There was no one in sight when they touched the cobblestones, and they had a clear run. Laurent, who knew the town, took the lead, and after two turns they were in a new quarter. Laurent led them down a narrow, arched passageway between two houses, and they paused there a moment, to catch their breath. Damen saw that the street that this passage fed into was one of the main streets of Nesson, already peopled. These grey hours of dawn were some of the busiest in any town.
He stood with his palm flat against the wall, chest rising and falling. Beside him, Laurent was breathless again, and brilliant with the run. ‘This way,’ Laurent said, moving out towards the street. Damen found that he had caught Laurent’s arm, and was holding him back.
‘Wait. It’s too exposed. You stand out, in this light. Your mousy hair’s like a beacon.’
Wordlessly, Laurent pulled Volo’s woollen cap from his belt.
Damen felt it then, the first dizzy edge of new emotion, and he let go his hold of Laurent like a man fearing a precipice; and yet was helpless.
He said, ‘We can’t. Didn’t you hear it, earlier? They’ve split up.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean if the idea is to lead them on a merry chase through the town so that they don’t follow your messenger, it’s not working. They’ve split their attention.’
‘I,’ said Laurent. He was gazing at Damen. ‘You have very good ears.’
‘You should go,’ said Damen. ‘I can take care of it.’
‘No,’ said Laurent.
‘If I wanted to escape,’ said Damen, ‘I could have tonight. While you bathed. While you slept.’
‘I know that,’ said Laurent.
‘You can’t be in two places at once,’ said Damen. ‘We need to separate.’
‘It’s too important,’ said Laurent.
‘Trust me,’ said Damen.
Laurent looked at him for a long moment without speaking.
‘We’ll wait for you for a day at Nesson,’ Laurent said, eventually. ‘After that, catch up.’
Damen nodded, and moved away from the wall as Laurent set out onto the main street, his jacket still trailing a few laces, his blond hair hidden under the filthy woollen cap. Damen watched him until he was out of sight. Then he turned, and made his way back the way they had come.
*
It wasn’t difficult to double back to the inn.
He had no fear for Laurent. He was quite certain that the two men in pursuit of him would be on a fruitless search for half the morning, stumbling along whatever path Laurent’s demented brain thought up for them.
The trouble, as Laurent had implicitly acknowledged, was that the remaining pursuers might have peeled off in order to cut down Laurent’s messenger. A messenger who carried the Prince’s seal. A messenger who was important enough that Laurent had risked his own safety on the chance that he would be here waiting, two weeks later, for an overdue rendezvous.
A messenger who had worn his beard closely trimmed, in the Patran style.
Damen could feel, as he had only begun to feel in the palace, the inexorable machinery of the Regent’s plans. For the first time, he had a glimpse of the effort and planning that it took to hold him back. That Laurent, serpent-minded as he was, might be all that stood between the Regent and Akielos was a chilling thought. Damen’s country was vulnerable, and he knew his own return would temporarily weaken Akielos even further.
He was careful when he approached the inn, but it seemed quiet, at least from the outside. And then he saw the familiar face of Charls, awake merchant-early and on his way to the outbuilding to speak to an ostler.
‘My lord!’ said Charls, as soon as he saw Damen. ‘There were men here looking for you.’
‘Are they still here?’
‘No. The whole inn is in uproar. Rumours are flying. Is it true that the man you accompanied was,’ Charls lowered his voice, ‘the Prince of Vere? Disguised as a,’ his voice lowered again, ‘prostitute?’
‘Charls. What happened to the men who were here?’
‘They left, and then two of them returned to the inn to ask questions. They must have learned what they wanted because they rode out of here. Perhaps a quarter of an hour ago.’
‘They rode?’ said Damen, his stomach sinking.
‘They were heading southwest. My lord, if there is anything that I can do for my Prince, I am at your service.’
Southwest, along the Veretian border to Patras. Damen said to Charls, ‘Do you have a horse?’
*
And so began the third chase of what was becoming a very long night.