Maig's Hand

by Phillip Henderson

Bianca brought the volume, and the Archbishop opened it at a yellowed and tattered book marked page for Kane to peruse. Sure enough, a Jonathan Samuel Madison, born eight generations before Joseph, was confirmed in the faith in the year 828, fifteen years before the Long Terror came to its dramatic and bloody end.

  “Fine, so they were related. But this certainly doesn’t prove that Joseph has the book.”

  “True enough. It proves only that the Aquarius Brotherhood was behind the theft; however, our endeavours since have revealed much more,” the Archbishop said as he returned the book to the shelf. “In fact, we now know for certain that the Book of Minion is not only real and in Arkaelyon but is somewhere on the brotherhood’s estate in the Arkaelyon Mountains.”

  “Yet you have not moved to take it?” Kane asked, wondering why.

  “As I said, a certain complication prevents me. In short, I don’t want to alert the Lord Protector to our plans until the crown is on your head. Strike too early and we risk showing our hand, and without the protection of the throne, Joseph would guess our intent and move to oppose us—and likely win.”

  Kane could see the sense in that. “Fine. But I tell you now, I will not agree to any move on Amthenium until that book is in our possession and its secrets known and tested.”

  “And we would not risk such a thing until it was so. So do we have an accord, then?” the Archbishop asked.

  “As it stands, yes, I think we can work together.”

  “Very good. I always knew you would see the sense of this, Kane, and I am sorry for the earlier deception.”

  “Yes, well, the offer of kingship isn’t easily turned down.”

  The Archbishop laughed. “Bianca, bring wine to refill our goblets; there is much to celebrate.”

  “Before we celebrate, Your Eminence,” Kane said, “there is the matter of when we are to begin.”

  “Of course. Well, the church elders and I think we should begin as soon as possible. We also feel that it would be best if you organised the administration of the poison. Even as a disowned prince, you still have friends in palace employment and access to your father that we do not, and it would ensure that we all have blood on our hands and are thus equally committed to the success of the accord.”

  “I understand. And particulars, sir?”

  “The poison will take a week to kill your father given his strength, and knowing this, we have always felt the best time to begin would be on the eve of the tri-monthly meeting of Amthenium’s Grand Assembly. It will mean your sister is away from court while he ails and dies, and her absence can only be helpful to all involved—and a small mercy for the young lady, I suspect.”

  “And how is it to be administered?”

  “In his wine. It is tasteless and odourless, so there’s no threat of detection. Three drops in the first dose, and two every day thereafter until he succumbs—it’s all quite easy.”

  “And the fact my father has started using a taster of late?”

  “The man in question has never suffered from the illness of the lungs, so it will take longer to work on him. And longer still since he will consume less. He will ail, but not before your father is dead and you are already on the throne. And even then accidents happen.”

  Kane nodded. “There is a servant who owes me a considerable gambling debt, who would be perfect for the task.”

  “Good. Then you will be needing this.” Taking another small vial from his bureau, the Archbishop presented it to him, and he slipped it into the pocket of his robe.

  The Lady Winters was refilling their glasses. “It does not bother you that this is your father you intend to murder, Milord?” she said, handing him his glass.

  Kane felt a sting of anger at the barely veiled contempt in her look. “The man has disowned me, so he is no longer my father,” he replied, not hiding his annoyance.

  “And ‘murder’ is also the wrong term, Bianca,” the Archbishop corrected. The man’s joyous mood was making him generous, Kane could see, though it wasn’t a sentiment he shared. He had never felt comfortable about this little whore knowing all their plans. And he had never liked the Archbishop’s dependence on her. Reliance on a beautiful woman was a folly that always came back to bite you.

  “Paul de Brie is a sacrilegious king,” the Archbishop said conversationally, “a blind shepherd who guides his flock away from the ways of righteousness, and we are merely fulfilling the will of the gods in this matter by getting rid of him.”

  “Of course, Milord. And what a fine shepherd you shall make, Lord Kane,” she said.

  “Now, Bianca, that’s enough,” the Archbishop cautioned, his tone firming at last. “Please apologise to our guest.”

  Giving Kane a look of cold dislike, she said, “I’m sorry, Milord.”

  Kane chuckled. “Do you presume to speak to your future king in such a way, Milady?”

  “Kings come and go, Milord.”

  “Bianca, enough!” The Archbishop slammed his glass down.

  Kane dismissed the man’s annoyance with a wave of his hand. “It’s quite all right; the Lady Winters is correct. Though I would add, Milady, that just as monarchs come and go, you should remember that the same can be said of entire villages and their inhabitants.”

  The woman’s face paled, and she bowed her head. “Yes, Milord.”

  The Archbishop cleared his throat. “Very well, then. With that settled, Bianca, please go and tell Mr. Longbey there will be an extra seat at my table tonight.”

  Kane waved the invitation away. “I’m afraid I must decline, for I have another engagement this evening.”

  The Archbishop looked surprised. “Another engagement? I would have thought that with the destruction of your residence, you’d like the use of accommodations equal to your station? You are more than welcome to stay here in the tower. The chambers on the floor below are equal to anything the palace could offer and certainly a great deal better than your meagre residence used to be. And I’m not sure how wise it would be for you to be … well … seen in the less reputable parts of the city.”

  He thinks I intend to find a whorehouse to spend the night. This thought was almost as amusing as the truth; that a druid priestess had arranged secret and secure lodgings for him. “Thank you for the offer, but it’s quite unnecessary. If you need to communicate with me, use our man at the Traveller’s tavern.”

  “Of course. But, might we have your company for a small celebration tomorrow evening instead? I know my loyal and faithful lords and fellow elders of the church would like to toast our next king.”

  “That would be fine. Tomorrow evening then”

  Celebration indeed. If only you knew, you old fool, Kane thought as he descended the tower stairs.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “I propose a toast,” the king said animatedly as he came to his feet at the head of the long stone table that graced the centre of his private dinning chamber. The conversations trailed off and glasses of red wine replaced silver cutlery as the members of the Inner Council and their ladies, all attired in their finery, pushed back velvet cushioned chairs to rise.

  The king lifted his glass. “To my wonderful daughter and our future Madam Protector. If it were not for your actions this morning, my dear, our hopes and dreams for Arkaelyon would have been significantly diminished and slavery would be legal in our realm for the first time in two centuries. I thank you. We thank you.”

  “To Danielle!” The cheer echoed around the table, and everyone took a sip from their crystal glass.

  The king held up his glass again. “And to James and Bastion. If it were not for the both of you, this would have been a very sad day indeed. My daughter owes you both her life and this realm is forever in your debt. We salute you.”

  Another cheer, and everyone took a second sip.

  “And finally, to my beautiful daughter and a man worthy of her hand. Danielle, James, I congratulate you both on your engagement, and wish you both a long life and much happiness together. A happiness that has be
en going on behind my back for some time I understand,” the king saw with a grin. The guests laughed and Danielle blushed. “To Danielle and James.”

  Glasses were raised again with a cheer of hearty agreement and then quickly drained to the last drop. Servants moved to refill them and others at the table stood and adding their own toast and with each glass of wine the speeches became increasingly bawdy.

  At last Danielle climbed to her feet. Attired in an icy white gown that clung to her tall slender frame, and with her long fair hair loose on her shoulders, she was a vision of beauty in the bright flickering candlelight.

  “Both James and I thank you all very much for your kind words.” She said a little more to be polite, including thanking her father and Joseph for making her engagement possible, before sitting back down to a round of applause.

  James knew how fragile she was after the harrowing events the day had thrust upon them and everyone understood why she was more subdued than the celebrations would otherwise have afford her. The attempt on her life had shaken all of them. It didn’t help that her brother’s liegeman had not yet been apprehended or that Kane had disappeared into the city somewhere. Her brother would no doubt blamed Dee for his failed bill and their father’s decision to revoke his rights as a gentleman and disown him as a son, and everyone at this table knew that the young man would look to repay Dee for her interference in his affairs—particular after his threats on the Highway yesterday morning.

  Then there was her heated exchange with Joseph in the south garden and the ongoing matter of her bizarre dreams. Danielle had informed him of her ultimatum to Joseph as they’d returned through the garden; that as soon as she returned from her duties as Arkaelyon’s Ambassador to the Grand Assembly in Amthenium, she would take charge of the matter herself and get to the truth even if it meant reading every scroll and tome in every monastery, abbey, royal library and archive across the continent, and while her father and discreetly taken her elbow as they had entered his chamber for dinner and instructed her that the subject was not to be discussed, it hung in the air like rain on a humid summer’s night.

  Her visit during the afternoon to the families of the soldiers who had died during the raid on Lord Kane’s residence had not improved her mood any either. James had accompanied her in the royal carriage through the rain soaked streets of the city, but she was so lost in her own thoughts he might as well not even been there.

  “Danielle, you have reason to be proud of yourself,” Lord Kyran said, as those at the king’s table took up their cutlery again and returned to their meal. With cropped white hair and beard, Kyran’s face showed the effects of the wine more readily than others. “It was quite a coup you pulled off this morning…”

  James saw the hint of irritation break through Danielle’s mask of polite geniality and her quickly rein it in. “I fear the wives and children of the eight men who did not live to see the sunset will not be so generous,” she said quietly.

  The smiles and merriment around the table faltered slightly.

  “They gave their lives in a very worthy cause,” her father said, with sympathy.

  Irritation flashed in her eyes as she glanced up at him at the far end of the banquet table. “Yes, and that will be a great comfort for the widows and children also, I imagine.”

  “It’s the lesser evil, Danielle …” Joseph said kindly, his perceptive blue eyes watched her closely as she bowed her head at the frown that crossed her father’s face and hacked at the piece of lamb on her plate. Her knuckles were white and her jaw was clenched so tight that even if she had managed to get the piece of meat onto her fork, there would have been little likelihood indeed of putting it in her mouth.

  “And that too, I suspect, will be most comforting.” She didn’t look up as she said this, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her growing wretchedness.

  James considered excusing them both from the table, but as her protector, even as her betrothed, it wasn’t his place. Not here in at the royal dinning table

  “Danielle, we agreed not to speak of this,” her father said, his annoyance and concern of equal measure now.

  Danielle put her knife and fork down and withdrew her hands to her lap. Tears shown in her vulnerable blue eyes as she met her father’s gaze. “And I’m sorry father, but I can not sit here and pretend all is well.”

  “It could have been a great deal worse,” he replied, eye brows raised expectantly.

  She shook her head, bewildered. “You thought this was a diversion! How is slavery a diversion! And ninety one members of the General Council voted for this bill, ninety one members and we knew nothing of it?”

  Her father lay his knife and fork down and glared at her. “Yes, and we were wrong, grossly wrong. But this is not the time or the place. I know how much the events of this day have grieved you, grieved us all, but if duty is to be performed as it must be, you are going to have to learn to govern with your head and keep your kind heart like your temper, firmly under control.”

  She gave a derisive laugh at that. “With my head? I did not see much intellect in the way this matter of Kane’s bill was handled? And more troubling still, you would have me leave the matter of my dream, this prophecy, the fact Kane is possibly a Hand of Maig, the Archbishop’s sudden interest in the Book of Minion, to you and this council?”

  “Danielle! That is quite enough!”

  She bit back her anger, tears glistening in her eyes as she bowed her head and nodded. She looked to those in company. “I am sorry for my out burst. I know I owe you all a great deal of gratitude for my election of Protector-in-waiting. Forgive me,” Then to her father she said, “Father, may I be excused? Please.”

  He drew in a weary breath and then nodded reluctantly. “Of course. You have not had an easy day, and even if you do not think so, we do understand.”

  Danielle acknowledged his kindness, stood and crossed the opulent chamber to the door. Kimberly, Eden’s mistress, begged her pardon to the king, who nodded that she may leave also, then got up and gave chance, her long green gown flowing around her legs as she disappeared out through the doorway. James too, excused himself and got up to follow. He slipped out into the king’s royal office and heard Danielle sobbing quietly in the next room, her red haired friend quietly consoling her.

  “James, a moment if you would.” Joseph hobbled into the room behind him, leaning heavily on his walking stick.

  “Milord?”

  “Get her a strong sleeping tonic and early to bed. She needs rest. You know what she is like when she gets this tired.”

  He did.

  Danielle eased out of her friend’s arms, her cheeks tear streaked as James and Joseph entered the hall. Her misery hardened to a firm resolve as her gaze found Joseph. “I want to talk to you.”

  “Yes, lass?”

  She sniffled and wiped at her cheeks. “Regarding my ultimatum this afternoon, I’ve changed my mind. I’m not waiting until I get back from Amthenium in three weeks.”

  “Danielle, will you please see reason,” Joseph said, raising his hands, palms open in an attempt to calm her. “You’re worrying about nothing. By the time you get back from the Grand Assembly these slaves you say are on Helidon’s estate will have been found, which will make this prophecy you fear quite redundant. For goodness sake our vengeful priest and the new Hand of Maig as you want to believe, will be languishing in the palace dungeons awaiting their execution and with both dead, things cannot be as you fear.”

  “I know, and I hope you are right and I am wrong, but please humour me?”

  He nodded reluctantly. “What do you want?”

  “I’d like a daily report on how the search is proceeding. Every detail, down to what books and scrolls are being read, anything about this tale master, O’Brook, you told me about in the garden this afternoon, and any mention of Druid’s Bane, and the mark Kane and I bear...”

  “To what purpose?”

  “It’ll help ease my mind. Bastion shall liase on my behalf.”r />
  Joseph looked troubled by the request but nodded anyway. “All right, have it as you wish. But you and Bastion have a great deal on your plate right now, particularly with the Vafusolum proposal. And you need to take to heart what your father said just now. You can’t let your emotions rob you of reason. Feel the pain of others, off course, but let is sharpen you wits not dull them.”

  “I know.”

  Joseph considered her a moment then said, “The Lord Cardinal is overseeing the search of the archives here in Illandia, and Arkaelyon generally, I’ll let Warren know that Bastion is going to liaise on your behalf. Warren is also privy to what is happening elsewhere and will keep you both informed in that direction as well.”

  “And when we’re in Amthenium, I’d like the same courtesy,” Danielle said.

  “I’ll talk to Leefton and ask him to see that you are kept in the loop.”

  Visibly revived, Danielle reached out and took Joseph’s hands and bent and kissed his bearded cheek. “Thank you.”

  “You go and rest, and see that she does, James.”

  “Some ralic tonic,” Kimberly said to James after hugging Danielle goodnight. He was already thinking down those lines.

  He knew better than to ask any questions until they had reached the privacy of Danielle’s chambers. Even then, their arrival startled the maids who were closing the curtains and stoking the hearth fires and there wasn’t immediate opportunity to talk.

  Danielle bid him wait in her day chamber while she retreated to her bedchambers with several maids to help her change out of her gown. While she was away, he asked a servant to go to the palace kitchen and fetch him a basket of ingredients, including Mala root, wasp honey and red mint.

  He was working on a tonic a short time later when Danielle returned up the hall in a nightgown and saw her maids to the door.

  James waited until they were alone and the door was closed before voicing a concern he had. “You’re not beginning to question the existence of these slaves, are you?”

  She looked confused and a little irritated by the question. “Not at all. The Lady Winters would not lie to me.”