Realm Law: Book Two of The Five Realms Trilogy

Delaney could not have felt more phony had she donned a rubber nose, clown shoes, and a bright orange wig. She had not begun to master the feel of the long, many-layered skirts, the Ordunese garb on loan from Dhayelle. If she kept stepping on her hem, she would not have a skirt left by the time she reached the hilltop, and her back would be wrenched beyond repair.

The four of them had agreed early that morning that the nature of their mission had changed. They now had no hope of finding out anything about Devil Throat or the Rushbrook island, nor did they dare present what they knew of the island and the conspiracy to the Ordunese government; the possibility that Orduna was in on the plot was too great. On the other hand, they could not simply turn around and go home. They had come too far, and the stakes were too serious for them to accomplish nothing.

And so they set a modest goal. If they could do nothing else, they would dedicate themselves to the mission of finding out what had happened to Ehiloru. Delaney had agreed to go with Shaska to check out the Citadel while the men scoured the town for news of the missing prophet. Hummer had insisted they borrow Ordunese clothing from Dhayelle. “We must be careful. If the conspiracy is indeed here and has control of Orduna, that is the worst possible news for Tishaara. Remember, whoever is behind this conspiracy loathes the fact that Tishaara knows their secret of the Cold Flames.”

As she forced her way through the ever-present throng of Ordunese citizenry, Delaney reluctantly agreed with the Tishaarans’ evaluation of the fabled City of Learning. It had been a great disappointment. The streets were choked withdirty, ill-mannered people who had no concept of hygience. Paunchy men swaggered through the streets not caring whom they jostled. Women quarreled loudly with each other and harassed merchants. Spiteful, brassy children roved in small bands, searching for unwary, elderly, or disabled Ordunese to torment and abuse. Occasionally she saw a citizen, neatly dressed and carrying herself with a quiet air of dignity, sadly picking her way through the streets as if she were walking in a stream of sewage.

The day had proven to be a waste for the women. They had wandered the grounds before the Citadel for hours, never once gaining entry to the sprawling complex that dominated the heights of the city as if it were the palace of God Almighty. Most of the dozen or so public entrances were sealed or boarded up; the others were guarded by multiple checkpoints and platoons of Ordunese military. Fearful of making themselves conspicuous, Shaska and Delaney did no more than scout the entrances. Nothing they saw or heard shed any light on Ehiloru’s disappearance.

As they retreated empty-handed down the hill toward Dhayelle’s place, Shaska let out a heavy sigh. She rubbed her still-tender eyes, a gesture of weariness that had become common since they crossed into the Second Realm, and even more so since receiving word that their delay at the falls and Morp cost them a chance to consult with Ehiloru before his disappearance. “It makes me ill to see things falling apart so,” said Shaska. “Orduna was known to us as a great city, built upon the noblest foundations. Yet it feels as though it is rotting from the inside and out, without the least concern from its leaders. You can almost smell the decay.”

“You people do have the sorriest allies.”

Shaska saw nothing funny about it. “Delaney, this Cold Realm conspiracy frightens me! I do not understand what is happening. Why cannot people tend to their own affairs and leave others in peace? Why are they not content with the gifts they have been given?”

Although Delaney was barely aware of it, envy and jealousy had begun to eat away at her restraint. The Tishaarans and their perfect manners and unimpeachable ethics. Orduna and its perfect knowledge. Shaska and her perfect looks. I am so sick of perfect, I could puke! As an outsider, she could not help but feel defensive, as if whatever culture she came out of did not measure up. She felt stupid because she could not get straight all the nuances and implications of realmland sociology. But at last, here was an issue she understood so much better than Shaska, and she jumped to the attack.

“Hey, that’s life. Wake up and smell the coffee, sister. You Tishaarans are so Magoo!”

“Are you going to start in now? Why must I constantly defend Tishaara’s honor, as if we were the ones causing offense? As if we were villains behind the conspiracy? First, Hummer; now you.”

Delaney thought back to the night before when Shaska had retired so abruptly to her bed after a tiff with Hummer. “What did he say that got you going? I don’t think he meant anything. I mean, anyone can see he’s a got a thing for you, but if that bothers you just tell him to shove it.”

Shaska leaned closer to Delaney, and with a Tishaaran’s innate sense of loyalty, began to bare her soul, oblivious to the signs that her confidant was not being terribly receptive. “His behavior makes me most uneasy, and I do not mean his silly flirting. What concerns me is the way he speaks of Tishaaran ways with disdain! I am scared to death of what he will become with such an attitude. Delaney, I do not know what to do with him.”

Spurred by irrational jealousy of a type she had never known, Delaney found herself enjoying Shaska’s naive vulnerability. She felt her confidence returning, confidence she had lacked since the first day in the Rushbrook hellhole and had only briefly regained in Tishaara.

“Come on, does every Tishaaran have to be perfect? I totally don’t know how you stand it. I would be afraid to say 'boo' if I grew up in Tishaara. Where I come from freedom is, like, the holiest word in the language. So if you people want to set up your own little mountaintop cult with all sorts of nitsy rules, fine. Just don’t expect pity from me when you find that not everyone is in love with your rules.”

Shaska looked weary and beaten, her bristling energy of the morning long spent. With circles under her eyes and a hint of a jowl loosening from her cheeks, she no longer appeared flawless. “You really do not understand Tishaara,” she said. “No people in all the realms have fewer laws.”

“Give me a break!”

“It is true. We have but one law on the books: in whatever you do, first consider the consequences to others and to yourself. We do not hide behind rules and regulations, claiming we are powerless to do what is right because our hands are tied. With no code of regulations, we are not tempted to study the rule book to see what we can get away with. We are free to act not as the law allows, but as conscience bids.”

Delaney felt the familiar fog of confusion returning. “If that’s true, then why put such a leash on Hummer? Deciding what he can and can’t do. He just wants to have a little fun, and to be honest, you people could use a little loosening up.”

“Begging your pardon, but you are missing the point again. The danger is not that Hummer ignores particular rules. It is that he chafes at the one law. In most of us, the Tishaaran principle is second nature. For Hummer, the principle hardly seems valid to him anymore, much less second nature.” Her chin started to tremble; she took a moment to compose herself. With sheer force of will, she managed to steady her chin. “Enough. This is not what we came to Orduna to discuss. We must get back to Dhayelle’s and rethink our strategy. I pray that the men have fared better than we. I fear we did nothing but waste another valuable day.”

They barely spoke the rest of the way home through the crowded main street.

Amid the silence, Delaney reflected on her callous treatment. Tishaarans were such easy targets; she felt drawn to attack them in spite of herself. Maybe it was the same primitive instinct that drew predators to attack the weak and infirm. As always it felt satisfying to score points in an argument. Yet at the same time, it felt wrong. Shaska, after all, had no mean bones in her body and had never been anything but gentle and kind and encouraging in her treatment of Delaney. She could not have been a better friend.

Part of her was inclined to apologize. But that was something Delaney seldom did, at least not voluntarily. Even though she could now see that it might be called for, she simply had no apology in her repertoire. She was just getting comfortable back on Second Realm turf; the last thing she wanted to do was walk into another disorienting hell of submissiveness. She just wanted to be Delaney for awhile.

So she said nothing as they pushed through the unwashed throng whose existence seemed to have no other purpose than to block their path.

From a full block away, she saw Dhayelle anxiously scanning the street. Delaney waved until she caught her eye. But to her horror, when the light of recognition dawned in Dhayelle’s eyes, it ignited a glare of murderous hatred. Delaney could not hear what she shouted but saw the trembling finger jabbing at her.

Delaney froze to the spot, blood rushing to her face. Their wide-eyed hostess was spewing venom into the ear of a large, well-armed officer dressed in a green uniform. The officer blew a whistle and waved a sword in Delaney’s direction. A dozen or so similarly dressed soldiers responded. Once the located her, they charged into the crowd, spreading out to cut off any avenue of escape.

Shaska had been so wrapped in her own thoughts that she had no clue what they were walking into, never noticed that Delaney had dropped behind her. When a series of whistles roused her from her stupor, she spun in confusion, looking for the source. Delaney ran forward, grabbed her hand, and took off running back the way they had come, against the flow of streetwalkers and idlers. Whistles shrieked and the pursuers shouted profane threats as they waded into the thick of the crowd. Delaney tried desperately to keep her balance as she towed Shaska towed through the streets.

“What is going on?” gasped Shaska.

“They’re after us.”

“Who?”

“Tell you later,” said Delaney. “No time to talk, sweetie!”

“Delaney, I need to know.”

“It’s Dhayelle!” she called over her shoulder. “She ratted us out!”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Just shut up and run!”

Shaska glanced behind. She saw the main body of soldiers bullying their way down the middle of the street, knocking several Ordunese off their feet and upending a cart filled with kitchenware, eyes focused on her.

“Please tell me what is happening? Where are we going?” she begged.

“I don’t know, I’m just going!” Delaney cried breathlessly, fighting panic.

Recovering her wits, Shaska noticed that on either side of them pairs of Ordunese soldiers were threading their way through seams of less resistance to head off any possible escape.

“Let go, then! Follow me,” insisted Shaska, above the growing din of the street. Delaney was pleased to let her take over.

Shaska steered into the thickest traffic, a bottleneck surrounding a great ox pulling a ridiculously overladen cart. Delaney was surprised to find she could keep pace with her. In the Second Realm, she could match Shaska’s stamina, and then some.

She felt like a pickpocket fleeing in a foreign marketplace. At any moment she expected some smelly black-gummed Ordunese to grab them and pin them against a wall until the soldiers arrived. But the chaos of the streets prevented coherent orders from traveling upstream faster than the fleeing women, and the few Ordunese who recognized what was happening showed an utter indifference to authority. The soldiers sabotaged their own cause with their ham-handed charge through the crowd. Their victims responded to the rough treatment with angry shouts, which led to deft, anonymous shoves that sent the soldiers sprawling.

Repeated collisions set off chain reactions of shoving in all directions. Uncertain of the cause of the violence, the crowd stampeded in all directions, paying no attention to the fugitives. Anarchy boiled in Delaney’s and Shaska’s wake. Those soldiers who had swung out to the flanks found themselves blocked by Ordunese scrambling with their carts, crates, boxes, and beasts of burden for the open air of the back alleys, and by fresh ranks of bewildered citizenry who poured out of the shops and houses to investigate the disturbance and got caught up in the riot. The worse the congestion, the more the soldiers cursed and abused the mob, which only increased the uproar and resistance.

Shaska sidestepped a gaggle of fat drunks who had spilled out of a tavern. She dragged Delaney behind a cart that had tipped over when the donkey pulling it bolted out of its traces.

“Tie up your hair. Quick,” she gasped, tearing a strip of fabric from her skirt and tossing the cloth to Delaney.

After dashing through the crowd in a blind panic, it felt somewhat reassuring that Shaska had a plan. Still, Delaney could not help but question the order.

“If we can change our appearance, the soldiers will have trouble recognizing us amid all this confusion,” explained Shaska. “They could not have gotten a good look at us.”

Delaney nodded and began to do as told. Her hair was not long enough to tie back, but she arranged a bandana over her head. By force of habit, she attempted to do a neat job of it.

“Appearance is not as important as haste, begging your pardon,” interrupted Shaska.

“Okay, you’re right.”

“Follow me.”

As Shaska began to emerge from behind the cart, Delaney gave a snort of laughter and pulled her back down.

“Uh, what about that blouse?” she said.

Shaska noticed, as if for the first time, the bright green fabric, and Delaney’s blue print.

“You know, from a distance, they’ll try to ID us more from clothing than hair style,” Delaney pointed out. The two women stared at each other in despair, their momentary hope deflated. Shaska scanned the streets, desperately looking for a way out.

Delaney did likewise and spotted what appeared to be a clothing store on their side of the street.

Yes!

Without a word, she grabbed Shaska’s hand and pulled her in a crouch toward the door of the merchant, praying that the mob scene shielded them from view of any pursuing soldiers. They fought their way through several currents of fleeing townsfolk. On the edge of the shop door, a burly Ordunese knocked Delaney sideways. She tripped over the foot of an old woman who had fallen and was curled up in a fetal position as the riot surged over her. Shaska stopped to inquire about the health of the woman but Delaney yanked her along. She pitched headlong into the shop, pulling Shaska behind her. The two landed in a heap on the rough wood floor in front of a startled, heavyset proprietor.

“Are you all right?” he asked, staring at them in concern. “What is going on in the street?”

“It’s a zoo out there,” Delaney said, cheerfully scrambling to her feet. Crap, they’re coming; we gotta do this fast! “What have you got in tops, blouses, anything?”

“Well, we have quite an inventory. What are--”

No time for this. Eyes darting around the well-stocked display room, Delaney spotted a rack filled with simple blouses in subdued hues.

“Those,” she said, pointing. “We’ll take two.”

Before she had even reached them, she had her blouse unbuttoned and half off. It was a tossup as to whose eyes bugged widest at this display of immodesty, Shaska’s or the proprietor.

“There is a changing closet in the back of the store,” stammered the shopkeeper.

Delaney ignored her. Her blue print top was already off. She tossed one new garment to Shaska and began slipping on the other.

Shaska gaped at her in horror, her face bright red.

“Uh, I, I , I’m not certain you have the right size,” stammered the shopkeeper.

“It’s perfect,” said Delaney, already tucking the tails into her skirt. So what if it’s a few sizes to large? Fit is not the issue.

“What are you waiting for?” she pleaded with Shaska, nodding her head toward the street. They’re coming!

Shaska swallowed hard and then raced past Delaney toward the changing room. With visions of the posse closing in on them, Delaney grabbed her by the shoulder. “No time. Put it on.”

“I cannot stand out here--”

Frantically, Delaney grabbed Shaska’s blouse and ripped it off her back. Shaska yelped and tried to cover up. The clerk’s jaw hung nearly to the floor; he seemed uncertain whether to aid this tall, stunningly attractive woman under assault from her crazed companion or just stay out of it and enjoy a guilty pleasure.

“Put this on and let’s go.” With the red-faced Shaska still too stunned act, Delaney began to dress her, cramming The Tihsaaran's arms in the sleeves and starting in on the buttons.

“I can dress myself, thank you!” said Shaska at last, taking over.

“Good. Let’s go. You have a really cool store,” she called to the shopkeeper. “We’ll tell all our friends to shop here.”

“Hold on! You did not pay for that.”

“Later,” called Delaney, peering out the door.

This time is was Shaska’s turn to grab her. “We are not stealing these clothes,” she said firmly.

“This is life or death,” Delaney whispered, urgently. “We have to go. Now!”

Shaska gripped Delaney’s arm firmly. “Then it is death. We are not stealing.”

“For the love of--” Delaney shrieked.

“Delaney, I do not know what you are thinking--”

“All right, all right! How about those two blouses in trade?” she asked the shopkeeper, who was still frozen behind the counter in shock.

“These are not ours to trade; they belong to Dhayelle,” insisted Shaska.

It was Delaney’s turn to cry out in shock. “Are you out of your mind?! She’s the enemy! She’s after us! You honestly think we’re going to return them?”

“That one’s torn at any rate,” said the shopkeeper, timidly, indicating the blouse on the floor, the one that Shaska had been wearing.

“Arrrrrrgh!” cried Delaney, ready to pull her hair out by the roots. “Look,” she said, addressing the shopkeeper. “What would your buddies pay to see the show we just gave? Admit it, that was worth more than the tops. See, we’re even.”

“Delaney!”

Idiot Tishaarans! Delaney sensed the goons closing in. If they did not get out within the next seconds, they would be trapped. The ring! With only an instant’s regret and a quick roll of the eyes at Shaska, she tore off the silver and turquoise keepsake. She seemed to remember it was a gift from her favorite aunt, whoever she was. She flipped it to the clerk. “Keep the change. Let’s go.”

“Are you sure--” Shaska stared.

“That ring is worth 20 of these rags!”

Shaska looked questioningly at the shopkeeper, who shrugged his shoulders and then nodded uncertainly.

Delaney flashed a smile at him. “Thanks, man, you’re awesome.” She turned and glared at Shaska. “Now let’s go before I strangle you!”

Shaska nodded and joined her at the doorway, where she finished putting herself together. Delaney was amazed at how quickly the Tishaaran recovered her poise once the crises of exposed skin and an unpaid bill were settled.

“Follow me but not too closely,” said Shaska. “We do not want them to see two women together.” She slipped out the door, stooping to disguise her Tishaaran height.

“Please don’t rat on us,” Delaney pleaded to the shopkeeper. She waited a few moments and then ducked out the door.

Shaska terrified her by starting back in the direction they had come, on a collision course with the pursuing soldiers. Have you lost your sense of direction?! After a moment of hesitation, Delaney watched her walk casually along the side of the street, near a high brick wall that separated two rows of shops, then slip into the thick of the crowd. She squeezed in between two townsfolk trying desperately to get out of the way of a particularly vicious soldier.

I hope she knows what she’s doing.

Delaney followed the route Shaska had taken. She plunged into the crowd and, affecting the right mixture of anger and bewilderment, pushed her way in a serpentine route toward three of the soldiers who had tried to outflank them. Elbowing through the mass of flailing, irate civilians, these men craned their necks to relocate their targets. One of the soldiers looked straight past Delaney’s shoulder as he approached. She pushed hard against a teenaged Ordunese, who shoved her backward with twice the force into someone else.

Meanwhile, the frustrated soldiers on the main avenue completely lost their heads. Fearing they were in danger of losing their prey, who seemed to have disappeared before their very eyes, they swung their fists and the flats of their swords to speed their progress. In the very short run, their violent tactics cleared a wider swath. But when the crowd saw the soldiers, whose uniforms commanded little respect to begin with, breaking noses and blacking eyes of men, women and children indiscriminately, they rose up in fury. Before long, a full-scale riot ensued. Every soldier was under attack.

By the time Delaney regained her feet after the latest jostling, they were past the soldiers. Immediately, Shaska led her into a dead-end lane into which a dozen or so crumbling, trashed dwellings had been carved out of the shopkeepers’ debris. Stepping through a small, grassless yard behind a dry goods shop, they reached an empty alley that wound down toward the river.

“I think we have have lost them,” said Shaska, panting heavily.

“So now what?” said Delaney, numbly. It seems like I’m always saying that. They should carve it on my gravestone. “We have no place to stay now that traitor screwed us over!” She bristled at the memory of Dhayelle’s betrayal. “Now I know how Roland felt, being on someone’s most wanted list. Only this is even worse, because she was supposed to be our friend.”

“You are certain Dhayelle turned us in?”

“Hello?! She pointed right at us and yelled for the guards.”

“How did I miss that? I must have been sleepwalking.”

“You know, you could give me some credit instead of acting like it’s such a shock I saw something you didn’t.”

“I am sorry. I just was not expecting--”

“Yeah, no one expects the Spanish Inquisition.” She waved off Shaska’s puzzled look. “Never mind.”

“We are safe but only for the moment,” noted Shaska. “As soon as order is restored in the streets, we shall be back in danger. We are strangers in town after all, and not Ordunese. They will find us.”

“Especially if that shopkeeper starts talking. And it’s not like he doesn’t know who I am now. Think you could have yelled my name out a few more times in there? And he knows what we’re wearing.”

“Do you think he will talk?”

“Hey, if I were clerking in a store and saw a scene like we put on--”

“Like you put on,” corrected Shaska, with both a blush and a trace of a smile

“Whatever. Anyway, I imagine he’ll tell everyone he knows, and it’ll get better each time he tells it. So let’s get out of here,” said Delaney, shuddering as another dark vision, that of a stinking cell deep in the Rushbrook dungeon, flashed through her mind. “I mean, out of Orduna. We can’t do any good here, anyway. You’re obviously going to get no help from from this city, and Ehiloru has probably been murdered, so what’s the point of hanging around?”

“Have you forgotten Hummer?” asked Shaska, sharply.

Delaney blushed. “Yes, yes. Look, I’m sorry for what I said back there. Can we just forget that whole conversation.”

“I was not speaking of our quarrel, though it would please me, also, to put it behind us. My thought was that the men shall return this evening to Dhayelle’s place, where those same soldiers lie in ambush for them.”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“Since we do not know where Windglow and Hummer went, we must find them so we can warn them away. Dhayelle knows when they are due back.”

“Yeah, she does, thanks to you.” Although it had been Shaska who had insisted on keeping Dhayelle informed as to their plans, Delaney immediately regretted her words. “I’m sorry, Shaska. I don’t know why I’m acting like this.”

“You speak the truth,” admitted Shaska. “In times like this, with a mission of such importance, a person should be more discreet. Ah, I have made so many mistakes on this trip. I should never have been chosen for the honor of this expedition.

“Give me a break—you sound like Windglow. Come on, how could you know about Dhayelle? She was supposed to be the one person in town we could trust. Who would have guessed she'd turn out to be Devil Woman. I’ll bet you anything she did in Ehiloru, too.”

“But how could she do this? Her own husband disappeared, too. How could she have had anything to do with that?”

“Right! Like she’s even married!”