by Vela Roth
I’m so glad it was you.
His hand tightened on the arm of his chair. He could not simply gloat. Lord Adrogan was the least of the offenders.
Cassia’s words would never cease to haunt Lio. They told him too much about what she had expected from her first encounter. Or rather, what she had not expected.
You are so good to me.
Should he have said what he had wanted to say? It went against his grain not to shower her with reassurance.
I’ll always be good to you, Cassia.
Perhaps silence had been the right decision. He would be good to her every moment they were together. But he had no right to promise her anything to do with always.
It was definitely time for Lio to stop thinking too far ahead.
A more ostentatious party neared from the direction of Solorum Palace. The king and his retainers.
When Lucis entered the pavilion, Lio stood with the rest of the embassy. The man’s stench cast a pall over the entire greensward, not an odor of the body, but of his dessicated heart. The memories Lio now carried in his veins burned within him. Cassia’s memories of the king’s crimes.
Lucis took his place upon the dais, and his playing pieces arranged themselves in their ordained formation, heir and dogs, mage and apprentice. The king surveyed the Summit as if his gaze could rearrange them too. Lio stood straight, his hands at his sides. When the man’s gaze reached him, he returned it steadily.
Cassia, master of the impassive face, would have been proud of Lio’s expression in that moment. The king did not even realize the initiate ambassador’s bow mocked him.
A small figure glided into the pavilion, her hound and handmaiden in tow, and Lio’s court face almost faltered. Without a glance his way, Cassia walked along the farthest row of chairs. Lio realized he had perhaps another heartbeat before he was guilty of resting his gaze on her longer than was appropriate. He turned his attention to taking his seat beside Javed.
Lio heard her footsteps halt. The chair creaked as she sat down, then creaked again as she shifted on her seat, as if seeking a more comfortable position. He rubbed a hand over his mouth.
The wind stirred the air under the pavilion, and her scent reached him. Too faint for anyone but a Hesperine to smell. And the only Hesperine who understood what it meant was him.
The fragrance of cassia soap on her skin invited him to their next feast.
Nothing to Do with Wisdom
Lio smoothed his veil and made coffee. He must not allow anyone in the common room to discern how eager he was to be gone.
How much longer before Aunt Lyta and Kadi finished tonight’s ward? The sooner they joined everyone, the sooner Uncle Argyros could make his announcement, and the sooner Lio could go to Cassia.
Lio debated pleading thirst so he could escape right away. But his uncle had not asked if he could wait until after his nightly drink for this conference. It must be important.
Lio busied himself serving the coffee. He set steaming cups in front of his uncle and Kumeta, careful not to spill anything on the documents spread between them on the table. As Kumeta smiled her thanks, her gaze scarcely rose from her dispatches.
“Thank you, Nephew,” Uncle Argyros said kindly, but he did not smile. His attention drifted away from his diplomatic correspondence to the packets in front of Kumeta. “As risky as it was for you and Basir to make your surreptitious visit to the Charge last week, it was certainly a fortuitous opportunity to retrieve our correspondence. The envoy dispatches, however, have placed a greater burden of reading on you two than the diplomatic correspondence has on Lio and me. Might I be of assistance?”
“That’s generous of you, Argyros.” Kumeta sorted through the pile and separated a stack, which she slid across the table to him. “These are the reports I am at liberty to share with you.”
Uncle Argyros gave her a rueful look. “Some secrets are too dark even for a founder of Orthros?”
“What you know can hurt you,” Kumeta answered.
Uncle Argyros nodded. He began working his way through the envoys’ dispatches with greater efficiency than Lio had lately seen him devote to any diplomatic missive.
“Argyros,” Kumeta added, “if any of the secret reports mentioned Nike, you know we would tell you.”
Uncle Argyros’s expression eased. “Thank you, Kumeta.”
Lio delivered two more cups of coffee to the other end of the table, where Basir and Javed sat in utter silence over a game of Prince and Diplomat.
Lio tried to sound nonchalant. “Javed, I didn’t know you brought a Prince and Diplomat set.”
“It’s Basir’s,” Javed replied. “It compromises neither portability nor craftsmanship, wouldn’t you agree?”
Lio glanced at the folding board and the pieces, which appeared to be carved of reed. “Indeed, it is a beautiful work. Light as a feather, I’m sure.”
“A gift from my Grace,” Basir said with relish.
“You are truly devoted to the game, I see.” Lio had never known Basir to divert his attention from a pile of dispatches.
Javed pursed his lips and picked up the scroll piece nearest him, moving it a few spaces.
Basir gave him a concerned look, then moved a knight and knocked the scroll from the board.
With a hiss of displeasure, Javed sat back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Basir said.
“I should just go back to reading my medical text. It’s the latest research from the Imperial university. Fascinating.”
“You sound like the soul of enthusiasm.” Basir tapped the board in front of Javed. “Come now. You and I haven’t enjoyed a game in far too long.”
“You’re right. No telling when you and Kumeta will get to spend this much time with us. We should enjoy it as much as we can.” Javed returned his attention to his pieces.
Lio fetched himself a cup of coffee and sat down to watch their game. His gaze fixed on the shrine piece. Cassia was waiting. The sun sat untouched at its place on the board, never in play, but always threatening.
Suddenly Javed broke his meditative silence. “How many Hesperines errant have we lost this year, Basir? What is the actual count?”
Basir sighed. “Javed…”
“I know names mean more than numbers,” Javed insisted, “but how many?”
Lio sensed a veil enfold their end of the table.
“It’s our worst year this century,” Basir answered quietly.
“Why are you playing this game with me when you could be helping Kumeta with the dispatches?”
“Because you do not need to subject yourself to the latest research on fever treatments for children.”
“Cup and thorns.” Javed rubbed his eyes again.
“How many patients have you lost this year?” Basir asked.
Javed offered no reply.
“None,” Basir answered for him. “You do not lose patients. You would do well to remember that.”
“Every child in Tenebra became my patient the moment I joined the Summit, and I cannot count how many of them I’m going to lose to frost fever while the medicine they need is sitting in my luggage.”
Javed’s veil slipped. Lio gritted his teeth at the pain in the Union. He pushed his coffee away.
“There is no frost fever in the east,” Basir reminded them.
“There’s frost fever somewhere,” Javed said, “because the Kyrian healers asked for the rimelace. It’s only a matter of time, and when it comes, no one will be able to do a thing about it. Least of all me.”
Lio opened his mouth to speak.
And shut it again, and bit his tongue.
Goddess, forgive him.
“Basir is right,” Lio said. “The game is just what we all need. Shall I be your second, Javed?”
“Thank you, Lio. But it is too late in the game for you to join as my second.”
Lio halted in the act of pulling his chair closer. All he could do was lift a hand in acquiescen
ce.
“After the Summit.” Kadi strode through the door in conversation with Aunt Lyta. “It could not possibly influence the diplomatic outcome.”
Aunt Lyta shook her head. “It would not be wise.”
“Wise?” Kadi halted in her tracks. “No, it wouldn’t be. It has nothing to do with wisdom. It is a matter of honor. Of love.”
Kumeta buried her nose in the dispatches. Basir fixed his gaze on the board. Javed and Argyros did not interrupt their Graces, so Lio followed their example.
“The honorable thing is to respect her decision,” Aunt Lyta said.
“What if she needs us?” Kadi demanded.
“She has my warding and your father’s thelemancy. She is well armed.”
“She might need us even if she isn’t in danger. We are right here in Tenebra, and we are not to even try to look for her? How can you bear it?”
“We did try. I must learn to bear it, because she does not want to be found.”
“I haven’t tried. I’m her sister. If I—”
“If your father and I couldn’t find her, no one can.”
“Kadi,” Uncle Argyros said.
She looked to him, her gaze afire.
He gestured to the seat beside Javed. “If you would, hear me out for just a moment before you deliberate further. What I have to say must inform everyone’s course of action.”
At length, she gave one nod and joined Javed. They shared a speaking look. Aunt Lyta sank into the chair next to Uncle Argyros and shut her eyes.
He set his coffee aside to wrap an arm around her. “We must acknowledge the Summit is failing.”
“Uncle—” Lio began.
Uncle Argyros shook his head. “We knew it might. We see now that it is. Our relationship with Tenebra is only deteriorating further. Every night poses a greater danger to all Hesperines who are Abroad—including us.”
“We are equal to it,” Kadi said. “Swords and a few backwater mages are no match for us.”
“This is a diplomatic endeavor,” said Uncle Argyros, “not a war campaign. The negotiations must not, under any circumstances, escalate into conflict. An open contest between Hesperines and Tenebrans, especially in this setting, could turn a stalemate into a war.”
In the silence that fell, Uncle Argyros and Aunt Lyta’s memories of the Last War loomed in the Union.
“Our embassy has broad authority to act on Orthros’s behalf,” Uncle Argyros went on, “and to make difficult decisions in response to any unforeseen situations we encounter here. However, the Queens’ mandate has a very specific limit. We are to put safety ahead of success. If there is any serious danger, I am to bring us home. Immediately.”
“No,” Lio said.
“Lio,” Uncle Argyros interrupted, “I have gathered everyone for an announcement, not a discussion.”
“We can’t leave yet.” Kadi spoke the horrified protest running through Lio’s mind.
Uncle Argyros held up a hand. “We are not leaving tonight.”
Thank you, Goddess.
“However,” Uncle Argyros said, “everyone must be prepared to depart at a moment’s notice, in case the worst should come to pass. If there is no immediate threat, we will leave at the Equinox as planned. If, however, my fears turn out to be justified, the moment will come when we must quit Solorum in haste.”
“What immediate danger could there be?” Lio protested.
“We do not know,” Uncle Argyros answered, “and that is the problem. It is clear the king never wanted the Summit to succeed. His dissimulation has gone on far too long to be anything but deliberate. He is using the free lords’ divisions to avoid a resolution. He would see to it they obeyed him if he really wanted a truce with us. Would you say that is an accurate assessment?”
“It is,” was all Lio could say.
“Which begs the question, why did he bring us here if he never had any intention of renewing the Oath?”
“As a stunt to manipulate others,” Lio argued. “To send a message to the free lords, the Mage Orders, and the people.”
“That remains a possibility, and if we are merely a tool for making a statement, that is a lesser misfortune. If, however, that is not the reason…”
“You think he has some other purpose.”
“A motive we have yet to understand, which has made him willing to go to great lengths. Such a careful plot could only be a threat to us. We must be ready to preserve ourselves.”
“Be ready,” Kumeta echoed.
“When the king makes his move,” said Basir, “the Charge needs the embassy to be out of the way.”
The Union throbbed with Javed and Kadi’s unspoken exchange.
“We’ll be ready,” he said.
She took his hand.
Lio let his gaze fall. “I understand.”
He sensed his elders’ relief. Good. Uncle Argyros believed that Lio accepted the state of affairs and that he would cooperate without further protest.
No one suspected Lio would never surrender that easily.
A Necessary Monster
Lio had been sure of the message Cassia had sent him with her soap. She wanted him again tonight. And yet here he was, waiting alone at the shrine nearly an hour after negotiations had ended.
She couldn’t be having second thoughts. Could she?
Lio paused his pacing and focused one more time, reaching beyond their Sanctuary with all his senses. He could feel the shaft of moonlight on his head, the cool magic in the stones around him, the heartbeats of the forest’s wildlife. Cassia still wasn’t anywhere on the grounds.
Something had prevented her. The only question was whether it was a danger to her.
Lio slipped to the edge of the grounds with one measured act of power and descended into the hatch without opening the door. But once there, he relied on his feet to carry him forward.
He wanted to step to Cassia’s side now and let nothing stand in his way. The mage certainly wouldn’t be an obstacle. When Lio had left the fortress, he had assured himself Amachos’s aura was in the Sun Temple.
Even so, Lio must use his power with the utmost caution when entering the palace walls. Now was not the time to test the limits of what he could achieve under the cover of the palace’s magical aura.
The eyes the Goddess had given him revealed the confines of the dark tunnel to his sight, even in the near absence of light. His speed and long stride ate the distance to the garden’s entrance. This time he used the door. He eased out into the shelter of the ivy, careful to shut the postern behind him and let the leaves fall into place.
Cassia was not here either, in what had once been her refuge under her sister’s care. Lio must search within.
For the first time he hesitated, forcing himself to consider what he was about to do. He was going to trespass under the palace roof. He could not afford a single misstep.
For once, Lio wanted nothing more than to shrug off the responsibility that rested on his shoulders. He didn’t want to think about his obligations to the embassy. Cassia might need him, curse it. He wasn’t a diplomat tonight. He was her lover.
He wouldn’t make a mistake. That was all.
He climbed the steps to the door Cassia had pointed out to him before. The portal to her sister’s realm was crowned by the first stained glass window Lio had seen in Tenebra.
On another occasion, he would have paused to appreciate the work’s fading beauty, still visible under the effects of weather, neglect and time. He might also have smiled to himself, realizing why the door let him in without making a sound. The hinges reeked of the scent oils everyone but Cassia wore. More feminine scents and the aroma of contentment welcomed him inside. Solia and Cassia had both been happy here. But a jarring note of wariness lurked beneath.
Lio’s senses heightened in warning. He could smell the king’s malodorous presence from here. He wasn’t far from Lucis’s chambers.
Even a mortal could have walked silently across the rugs where Cassia and Knight had play
ed, past the curtains and tapestries that absorbed as much sound as dust. Through another door with scented hinges, and Lio was in a hall lit by moonlight.
If Knight’s odor hadn’t been enough, the smells of tallow soap and garden soil, faint beneath the fresher scent of cassia soap and roses, would have made her trail easy to follow. Lio would have no trouble finding her rooms.
His senses clamored as he stalked closer and closer to the intersection of two halls, nearer and nearer the smell of the king. Lio halted at the crossroads. His gaze fell on the large door at the far end of the adjoining hall. He listened.
Lucis slept within. Lio could hear the king’s even breaths and steady heartbeat. Astonishing. The man actually had a heart in his chest. And a small army of bodyguards to ensure it kept beating through the night. They were quite awake.
How easy this was.
Lio could walk right past them, ignorant minds that they were, and they would never sense him.
More than men guarded the king, of course. But after learning Knight’s ways, Lio felt brazen in dealing with liegehounds, and the plethora of herbal charms and hedge magery about the king’s chambers would not halt a Hesperine. It was the hum of Amachos’s wards that announced it would take a show of power to enter. But a sorcerer of Lio’s caliber could get through those spells and be gone before the royal mage had time to lift a finger.
And, with one stroke, Lio would set off a chain of events like one spell igniting another. The king’s death would create a void of power. A free lord would raise himself to prominence as Caelum’s regent, probably Lord Hadrian. His rivals under Lord Titus would declare war on the usurper, and the feuds would resume. In one night, Tenebra would regress hundreds of years into its devastating past. The maimed kingdom would be a ripe target for Cordian intervention.
The king was a monster, but a necessary one.
Lio would be mad to remove him. So why did the cost of such a crime seem just as high as the cost he and his people would pay when they left this place without having committed a single error? When they returned home without an Oath. Soon.