Faces of Deception by Troy Denning Read Free Book Online Page A

men clapped at Yago and stared at Atreus’s face with open hostility. The women retreated to the landing below and let them pass, blushing and averting their eyes. The children gasped in open awe of Yago’s size, then hissed and clapped their hands to ward off Atreus and his “wickedness.” By the time the trio reached the ground floor, Atreus felt happy to have grown up among the Shield-breakers. At least Yago’s sons and nephews had considered his unfortunate looks nothing worse than an excuse to start a good fight.
    When they reached the ground floor, Rishi led the way through an open poultry market into a narrow lane. Atreus was so turned around that until a pair of Mar wandered past carrying a long plank, he did not recognize it as the same alley over which he had been hanging a few minutes earlier.
    “Over here, my banana-loving friend!”
    The call came from a short distance down the alley, where a round-faced Mar with a waxed mustache sat in the driver’s seat of a large covered wagon. He was a plump man, about the same size and shape as the shadowy figure who had thrown the banana into the Howdah. Hitched to the man’s wagon were two of the strangest oxen Atreus had ever seen. They had narrow, cow like faces with curved horns as long as a man’s arm, and their bodies were hidden head-to-hoof beneath shaggy skirts of golden-black hair.
    Rishi draped his hand around Atreus’s elbow in the overly familiar way of the Mar and led him toward the cart.
    “Bharat, my good friend! This is the unfortunate gentleman I was telling you about, and this is his large servant.” Rishi gestured at Yago. “Is everything ready?”
    “Yes, yes, just as you asked. Hide yourselves beneath my carpets, and we are on our way to Langdarma.” Bharat smiled too eagerly, displaying teeth as white as snow, then nodded to Yago. “I brought my largest wagon, but even so, I fear you will have to fold your legs.”
    Rishi started toward the back of the cart, but Atreus made no move to follow.
    “We’re going to Langdarma in an oxcart?” he asked.
    Rishi feigned a look of shock. “But of course! Surely, you did not think we could take your elephant?”

Chapter 4
    Bharat’s carpet wagon had nearly crested the front range of the Yehimal Mountains when the Queen’s Guard finally caught up to it. The riders, mounted on shaggy mountain ponies about the size of a good war dog, traveled lightly, with little more than sabers, haversacks, and long woolen hauberks that served as both coat and armor. Behind them, three days back and a thousand switchbacks down the wooded mountainside, lay the misty forests of Edenvale. The capital itself was still visible, a tiny dun-colored circle on the far horizon.
    The guards, all rugged-faced Mar accustomed to the rigors of mountain travel, urged their ponies into a trot, surrounding the wagon on all sides. Bharat feigned surprise and reached for the axe beneath his seat, as though mistaking the riders for a company of road bandits.
    “We are the Queen’s Men, driver,” said the leader. He spoke in Thorass to indicate he was on official business. “You have nothing to fear from us, unless you are the one hiding Ysdar’s devil and his murderous servants—and if you are, you will not escape us anyway. Let us have a look in your cart.”
    Bharat glanced around at the riders, then sighed and reluctantly reined his strange oxen—the beasts were called “yaks”—to a halt. “I have no devils with me,” he said plainly. “I will show you.”
    Bharat wrapped the reins around a seat brace and turned to crawl into the cargo area, but the leader swung his lance down to block the way.
    “We will look ourselves. This devil is very clever and dangerous. Perhaps he and his servants slipped into your cart when you were not looking. I would not want you injured.”
    Bharat turned his palms to the sky, shrugging, and sat back down. A dozen riders dismounted, passing their lances and reins to their fellows,