“You guild girls are all alike. You and that blonde one.”
“I think that you will find 'that blonde one' a much easier target for one of your persuasion. Why don't you go and bother her?”
Now the courtier's eyes flashed as Zya dismissed him, his court-practised manners preventing him from using the curse that she was sure was hovering just behind his lips. Zya turned away, looking up at the gaudy festival decorations. She had a lot to consider. Nearby, events were unfolding as she had foreseen. She had felt Ju witness the chasing of Lorn into the alleyway, and the thought that he may well have been killed nearly broke her heart. It was all that she could do to stay standing. Now, far to the West another dream was becoming reality, and something told her that in this very palace were one or possibly two forces that could affect the outcome. Her gut feeling was that she would end up meeting both of them before this night was through. To distract herself, she looked around some more as she twined a ribbon around her fingers.
“Impressive, isn't it?” Asked another male voice.
“Not really,” Zya replied without bothering to turn around to give satisfaction to the whims of another whiny man who couldn't hold the sword at his side for any more than a moment before nearly fainting from the weight. She so wished Lorn was here with her. “It is a gaudy display of wealth that sometimes offends the eyes, nearly blinding one with the offensive riot of colour. The money that has been spent on this has been wasted when it could have gone to people outside and around the city who are nearly starving.”
“Very well put,” the voice agreed, “but it would mean my head on a spike if I became the second Duke to not allow my city this celebration.”
Zya's head shot around, and she beheld a man who although not overly impressive in stature and looks, had a bearing about him that spoke of command and instant obedience. He was her match in height, and he wore his sword like a warrior, not a popinjay. From under brown hair bleached blonde by seasons on the waves, the Duke smiled back at her. The feeling intensified, and Zya was sure for an instant that one of the powers was facing her right now.
“My Lord, it is an honour,” she said, her throat trembling as she forced the words out.
“No, I think the honour is mine, young Zya S'Vedai. Rarely have we had the honour to meet somebody who rises so quickly amongst their respective ranks. If I were to perform as you, I would be overlord of the Nine Duchies before the year is out. Tell me, how is it that you have learned in a matter of months what it takes some a lifetime to accomplish.”
“My Lord I could not say. I do not know. It just comes to me.”
“Marvellous!” The Duke exclaimed, and the feeling became stronger, much more potent, “a natural! I have never met the like before!”
Zya bowed her head at the complement. “Neither have I, my Lord. But I have heard about your many accomplishments.”
The Duke puffed up at her compliment, not taking it the way Zya knew that she meant it, but still the feeling grew and it was not a bad feeling.
“Splendid! We shall dine together then, just you and I, and talk about other things than gaudy festivals.”
“I would be honoured, my Lord, but I have responsibilities. I am…” Zya looked down to the floor, and caught sight of someone she recognised. “Ju?”
The bottom edge of a curved bow more stylish than any piece of tat in the whole hall called to her through her dagger, and she realised that the converging weapons knew each other somehow.
“You are due?” The Duke replied, waiting on her answer as he misheard what she had said.
Zya realised that she was not going back to the guild, no matter what her excuse was to be, so she gave in to temptation and it felt right. “I am due to go back to my guild very soon, but I do not see why we can't have some food beforehand.”
“Perfect,” replied the Duke with a winning smile, “let us adjourn to the privacy of my table.” And he led her to the table on top of the dais. 'Private' might not have been quite the word Zya would have chosen to represent this situation, but there was a distinct separation between the lavish spread on the dais and the crowd beyond. Even now, Zya had begun to doubt what she had heard about this man. Was this straightforward and polite gentleman the head of an army of mercenary-backed merchants, who took concubines as often as the day changed? She could not be sure. Many courtiers and the like tried to follow, but were rebuffed by subtly dressed warriors in deerskin and leather, weapons concealed beneath cloaks. The Duke strolled through with Zya beside him, not even noticing the difference and blithely ignoring the guards as if they were but commoners beneath him. The look in his eye betrayed his demeanour though, and Zya read him in an instant as a man who was prepared for much more than a party. It was as clear to her as the wine in her goblet that this Duke aimed to be prepared for any eventuality.
“And what is this?” The Duke said as he mounted the dais. Zya leaned around him to see a partially hidden boy.
“Your wine, my Lord Duke,” came a voice that was achingly familiar, and a blessed relief to Zya.
“I did not order any wine brought up, young man.” the Duke replied, a stern edge creeping into his voice. Obviously being prepared was the result of a slight case of paranoia in a younger man.
“Well I was asked by two men to bring you up a couple of bottles of your private wine, and to be double quick about it, my Lord. I serve my Duke as best I can, and thus am I here.”
The Duke although not satisfied was nonetheless mollified, and sat down at the table. Zya sat demurely beside him before looking up and winking at the broadly smiling Ju.
“I know you,” she said, “you used to be a message runner in the city. You came to my guild once, and I have seen you about the place.”
“You know this rapscallion?” The Duke asked, impressed with her knowledge.
“Yes, you could say that I do, after a fashion. His name is Juatin, and he is as good a servant as could be asked for, taking into account his quick feet and forgetting his quick mouth.”
The Duke laughed at this, and patted Ju on the shoulder. “Well then my lad, let me approve the bottles and you can pour us both a glass of wine.”
Ju passed the bottles over, and after a moment's scrutiny received them back from the Duke with a nod of approval.
“A mark known only by me and my vintner protects the bottles from tampering. One can never be too careful.”
“What about the vintner?” Zya asked innocently.
“Well, let us say that he is more trusted by me than just about any person alive.” The Duke replied as he watched Ju uncork a bottle with consummate ease. “Very well done, lad.” He complemented as Ju eased the cork out in one fluid motion.
“Thank you my Lord, benefits of spending time in and around an inn.” Ju replied with a bow. “Would you like me to pour, my Lord?”
“I will do the honours, lad.” the Duke replied, taking the bottle from him. “Only one person has ever poured this wine, and that has been me.”
“Take some advice, and make sure that is ever the case.” Ju cautioned under his breath.
Taking a goblet of the heady wine, Zya breathed in its aroma. It smelled of earth mixed with numerous fruits. The earthy taste appealed to her, and Zya found that she was quite relaxed within next to no time. The feeling that her dreams were unfolding as prophecy became actuality never diminished, and she knew that she had things to do. After eating a delicious but altogether too brief meal, Zya pushed back her plate and goblet. The crowd noise had increased as things got more festive and more wine was consumed, but the private cordon created by the guards remained. “My Lord Duke, I must beg your forgiveness to take my leave from you now. There are things that I must do. Things that cannot wait.”
Ju looked mutely at Zya, appeal in his eyes. It was clear that he wanted to say something, but was hesitant as to whether he should do so. Zya felt that anything unsaid now would be for the worse. “Would you consent to a little advice yourself, my Lord? I always take adv
ice when it is offered. For even if it is not heeded, it can often be of great use later on.”
“I would be a fool not to listen to one who rises so rapidly in rank from such a well-established guild, dear Zya. Say on.”
The Duke looked around in surprise as Ju spoke up. “My Lord, we are aware of how you seek to oust the Guilds using the merchants gold and the mercenaries force. We are also aware of your tradition whereby you take a concubine at the end of every festival. I must warn you, Zya shall not be she. Despite all this, despite all reservations, you must hearken to my words. My Lord, there is a plot against you, one to take your life.”
“What foolishness is this?” The Duke asked, looking from Zya to Ju and back again. “Concubines? Merchants replacing guilds? Plots against me? I have never heard such a collection of ridiculous statements! What is your part in this, boy?”
“My Lord, I came here to seek you out, and I arrived through the tunnels that lead here directly from your mercenary guild. They lead to the wine cellar, where I met two men that told me to take wine to you.”
The Duke looked down at the bottle of wine, and then slowly back at Ju. “Say on.”
Ju swallowed, nervous at being the source of such intense scrutiny. “They said to take two bottles of this special brew to you, as it was the only one that you drank.”
“So they gave you the bottles of wine to bring to me?” The Duke turned around, to shout for the guards, but in a flash Zya stuck her hand in her pocket and called on the power of her focus stone. A moment's concentration and the voice of the Duke had been muted to a whisper, and his body held rigid in the chair. To all eyes below the dais, it appeared as if he had just turned slightly to look across the hall.
“Please my Lord, listen to all this boy has to say. He is only trying to help you, and before you jump to any conclusion you must hear him out.”
The Duke continued to try and shout, but his mouth just made the normal shapes of conversation.
“I will release you once he has finished, but until then you will hear only his voice.” Zya focussed again, and built into her original spell a weave of what Joen had called 'air', to block out all sound but that immediately around them. Nobody would know any different.
“My Lord, the men did not give me bottles of wine to bring to you. They were too intent upon helping themselves. I overheard their conversation about where your wine is kept and took two bottles myself as a cover story. I was on my way with information and needed a reason to get close to you.”
“There are much worse things afoot this evening than a young man with good intentions, my Lord Duke.” Zya affirmed.
“This is not the first plot against you that has tried to bear its fruit tonight, my Lord. The first failed only by the apparent fact that one of my soon to be ex-colleagues did not manage to find her way here in time. Somebody else will come to you this evening, unwillingly, and offer you a taste of one of your bottles of wine. I suggest that you let her taste it first. Her, or somebody close to her that you can stand to lose, for that will be poisoned. I first saw the lady in question a while back when running messages. She owned a particularly successful gentleman's establishment, one where I was forced to avert my eyes more than once.” Ju grinned as he said this. Zya frowned at the image. “She had blonde hair and a full figure, and an eye for any man that could give her a decent advance in her station. I hear she got that.” The Duke had ceased shouting, but his face was red with rage. He knew exactly what Ju was getting at. “Her name was Lady Langley during the time I knew her. I saw her for the last time over a month ago. That is until today. I had been asked by a very close friend to look into what was happening in the mercenary guild, another place I had worked. We had heard some strange things about it, and it needed confirmation. I followed some people in there for it was open today, and witnessed some very strange men fighting. There were none of the mercenaries that had been filling the halls like ants for days uncounted, just these giants and dwarves that could kill without weapons. They impressed all of the children, trying to make them join them in something. Sat at a table, next to an evil man known as O'Bellah, was the Lady Langley, except now she was all dressed up in a blue gown and jewels, looking right out of place. She spent most of the time playing with a large blue jewel at her throat.” As Ju said this, the Duke's face paled. “She was very close to this man, and several others, one of whom I think was a wizard. I followed her when she left with O'Bellah, and I am sorry to say my Lord, but I saw her kissing him in the tunnels beneath the palace.” The colour drained out of the Duke's face as Zya watched him. It was as if somebody had driven a barrel-tap into his chin and turned it on. “I was as close to them as one end of this table is to the other, my Lord. While I watched, they spoke of poisoning you, and when she asked eagerly who was to do it, he told her that she was. The Duchess was not happy, but complied.”
Something in the Duke's eyes gave Zya hope, and on instinct she released the focuses thus freeing him.
“She will be called the Duchess no longer, boy. Not if what you say is true. If the lady that you speak of is she whom I have married, then the blue jewel was my mother's gift to her. However, if you are lying, then I will personally cut out your tongue and feed it to you. I will find out who sent you to me, and I shall do the same to them.”
“If you doubt the boy, Lord Duke, then I suggest that you check your bottle if and when she brings one. Wait, and check the wine, and we will go nowhere.”
The Duke looked at her, picking up on the change of reference. “We? Who is the 'we' now?
“The 'we' consists of Ju and myself, my Duke. I sent him to the mercenary guild to find out what was happening because I myself could not venture there. He was supposed to get out and leave the city but has obviously been waylaid. His next best hope lies with me. We are kin by way of fostering, and I will vouch that Ju has nothing but good intentions in his heart. As a member of the Order of Earth and their future high wizard, I pronounce that to be true. Trust me, my Lord, and trust him. If you drink of the wine that your wife brings to the table, you will know no more.”
During this exchange, Ju had been nodding fervently to everything Zya had said. The Duke eyed him now. “Why did you come here when you could have escaped the city?”
“Because this was the only way left to me.” Ju stood as close to the Duke as was possible, and poured more of the wine. “I was stuck in a tunnel with mercenaries all around, and one man showed me the way out.”
“Where is this man? Why is he not with you now?”
Ju sighed, wiping a tear from his eye in memory of Foster's brave but suicidal act. “He led a group of mercenaries that were under some sort of spell away from me in an attempt to let me go free.”
“It obviously succeeded then, for here you are.”
“Barely, my Lord Duke. There were men close behind me to the point that one of them nearly tagged me while I was watching the Lady Langley and O'Bellah.”
“Pah!” The Duke spat out loud. “That man infests our lives like maggots to rotten meat.”
“More than you could know,” Zya agreed while she picked at a sweetbread in front of her. “He has been the root cause of discord throughout the Duchy for the entire time I have been here. You are dealing with a very dangerous man with some deadly connections, my Lord.”
“If anybody was behind these merchant rumours then my bet is on him. I personally have heard nothing, but since when is that a surprise. But how are you going to leave now, if these mercenaries are all around us? This complex is on a headland.”
Zya looked at Ju, and then back at the Duke. Honesty was all that they had. “At the change of the second watch from now, there will be a ship waiting for us outside of your Grace's private docks. My Lord, this might be difficult to believe after so long, but the pirates of Bay's Point have sailed, and as it stands they do not intend on returning.”
“What?” The Duke exclaimed. “What pirates? There have been no pirates per sé in generations!”
Zya shook her head. “You have been much too closeted, my Lord. The pirates run the city, in fact the city is pretty much populated by pirates. I fear from what has been said here that you only see what people let you see, and that is a shame. There is evil spreading here, I can feel it in the bones of the Earth. It is here now, enclosing us. The only way to beat it is to fight back, to defy it. The pirates are what have kept this city going for generations while the nobility that once were pirates themselves became distant. You really need to take control of your city, my Lord.”
The Duke slammed his goblet down on the table, sending a shower of ruby tears over everybody. “How am I supposed to do that surrounded by mercenaries who are supposedly hunting you down?”
“Not just us,” Zya corrected, “but yourself also. O'Bellah plans to take over the city, probably with your wife as a figurehead but not necessarily. He will have the backing of the mercenary guild, and who knows however many wizards of copious orders. Plus, he brings a darkness to this city unlike anything you have ever seen.”
“And I suppose you can tell me that you can stop this in exchange for my help?” The Duke asked sarcastically. It was obvious that the potential stress of the situation was getting to him.
“No, my Lord, we only wish to escape it. There are commitments we have elsewhere.”
“Dammit, if you are living under the protection of my city then you have an obligation to me too!” The Duke stormed. “I need those pirates. My own guard numbers barely four score men and some household staff. There must be something you can do?”
“Let us get to the ship and I might be able to persuade some of them to…” Zya broke off as her stomach clenched and she convulsed forward, narrowly missing the table. “It is getting worse.”
“What is?” The Duke nearly yelled, clearly frightened.”
“The dream we shared,” Ju answered for her, “Zya sees things in dreams, and I share her visions. We had a dream once about a ship being swamped by unnatural storms, storms whipped up by the misuse of power. That dream is unfolding as we sit here and do nothing.”
The Path of Dreams (The Tome of Law Book 2) Page 60