The Fire Mages' Daughter

by Pauline M. Ross

  “Yes, Arran?”

  “Forgive me, but I do not believe these murderers broke in. The outer walls of the Keep are smooth and unclimbable, with not a single window. They have never been breached, not once in all our history. And the gate was closed.”

  She shrugged. “So they walked in during the hours of sun, and hid themselves. It is all the same.”

  “And then went straight to the right atrium and floor and window to attack both Drina and Highness Axandor? No, they had help. Someone who knew the Keep well – who knew your part of the Keep well – who let them in, hid them until past moonset, showed them the hidden stairs to the roof and told them precisely where to find their targets.”

  “That is ridiculous,” Zandara said, her pale eyes staring at him. “Who would do such a thing?”

  “An Icthari,” he said at once. “There are not many inside the Keep, but there are a few. I think they should be locked away until this matter has been fully investigated.”

  “Nonsense!” Zandara snapped. “I have Icthari servants myself, but their loyalty to me has never been in doubt. You do not propose to arrest them, too, I trust?”

  “You would surely not claim special privileges for your own servants?” I said, shocked. “We of all people must never be above the law. If one is arrested, they must all be arrested.”

  “Absolutely,” Yannassia said crisply. “Commander, see to it. Highness Zandara will set the example. You may start with her servants. After that… we have some in the kitchens, I believe. The senior steward will have a list.”

  “Yes, Highness. At once.”

  He saluted smartly and withdrew, his expression one of relief. No reprimand, and nice, simple orders to obey.

  Zandara huffed in annoyance. “This is crazy! These people came from outside the Keep, that is obvious. If they had insiders helping them, why did they not find my apartment?”

  “That is a very good question,” Yannassia said crisply. “But we will have answers. When these people are interviewed, we will have mages present to determine whether they speak the truth. Then we will know. And if your servants are innocent, then you may have them back.”

  Wordlessly, Zandara spun round and stalked out of the room, her drusse and two night guards chasing after her.

  “Now then, Arran,” Yannassia said, “you may tell me why you are so keen to arrest all these Icthari. For I think you have a reason for it.”

  We had not told her about the box of sweets which Zandara’s servant had given me. It had seemed unnecessary to worry her if they were, after all, no more than pretty almond paste, and it could be a moon or more before we were sure. But now Arran told her everything. He even told her that one of Zandara’s servants had arrived ten years ago. Yannassia stopped pacing, and listened intently, her face even paler than usual.

  “Well. There is no proof in any of that, but it is… suggestive. And it does make a strange kind of sense. Yordryn… yes, Zandara benefited there, no question about it. And I can quite see why she would want Drina dead. But she would never have harmed her own baby, surely?”

  “No, her distress was quite genuine, I’m sure,” I said. “That was my delightful betrothed, or his even more charming father, I’m sure of it.”

  “Good,” Yannassia said. “For I should hate to think we had taken our revenge on the wrong men. But perhaps it gave Zandara the idea. And then, when you were chosen as heir, and the sweets did not work, she thought to try the assassination method. For who would suspect anyone but the Icthari?”

  “And she arranged for her own assassin to go to the wrong place, to avert suspicion,” Torthran said. “Yes. But Axandor? I cannot believe she would put him at risk.”

  We all looked at Axandor. Again, I was struck by something odd. Normally, he followed Zandara as closely as a dog. Yet here he still was, hands tucked in armpits, head down, looking thoroughly miserable.

  He chewed his lip. “Thing is… I was out of my apartment. One of Zan’s waiting women. I like my own bed as a rule, but she insisted. I thought it was peculiar at the time. I wanted to go home… you know, afterwards. She clung on to me, quite argumentative about it. I hate to upset a lady but now… I wonder… I think Zan planned it. To get me out of my own bed. I think you should know that. And I think you should get the mages to question Zan, as well.”

  “Thank you, Axandor,” Yannassia said gently. “That was very brave of you, to tell us all that. I know how fond you are of Zandara. She will be questioned, and the mages will find out the truth of it, one way or the other.”

  “Good,” he said, lifting his head. “Because if she did try to have Drina killed, it is not right, not right at all. And something should be done about it.”

  ~~~~~

  When we left Yannassia’s private rooms, Arran and I hand in hand, Vhar-zhin scurried after us.

  “Drina! May I…? Are you all right? Not injured?”

  “Not in the least. Arran took the worst of it.”

  “Of course. He was very brave.” She flushed. “Drina, I… I am so glad you have suffered no harm. I want you to know…” She chewed her lip, looking at the floor, then suddenly lifted her head to gaze straight at me. “I am sorry for what happened. Between us, I mean. I intended no harm. I thought… I misunderstood.” Her eyes flicked to Arran and then back again. “But I can see now that it would not have worked.”

  “No,” I said gently. “It would never have worked between us, Vhar. I’m so sorry.”

  Her eyes flicked to Arran again. “He knows about it?”

  “I have no secrets from Arran.”

  “Of course. You are very close, I understand that now. Even when you were apart… You were unhappy, and I thought I could fill the void. It was a foolish idea.”

  “Not foolish,” Arran said. “If you care for someone, you want to make them happy.”

  “Yes!” Her face lit up suddenly. “I wanted to make her happy. I really thought I could, but her heart was already given elsewhere. When you love someone, truly love them with all your being, no one else can bring you happiness.”

  “Do you think so?” Arran said. “That would be sad, if it were true. Surely it is possible to find happiness, even with someone who might not be the first choice. Love can grow, Highness.”

  She looked at him uncertainly. I’m not sure he’d ever said so much to her before. “You think so?”

  “I do. For you, too, if you would let it. I think if you looked around, you could find someone who would make you very happy. Your waiting woman with the lovely blue eyes, for instance. She likes you very much, I think.”

  “Oh. She is very pretty, but…” She stopped, and I could see the idea filtering through her mind, perhaps for the first time. “I… well, it is an interesting theory, Most Powerful. I will consider what you have said.” She leaned forward and kissed me on one cheek. “May the gods protect you, Drina.”

  Then she was gone.

  “That was unexpected,” I said. “That is the first time she has ever given you your proper title. She has mellowed greatly towards you, considering what she did to keep us apart.”

  “She had your welfare at heart,” he said, squeezing my hand.

  “I suppose so. I wonder if she will do anything about the waiting woman. Does she really like Vhar?”

  “Oh yes. The poor girl can barely take her eyes off her. Have you never noticed? You are normally so observant. Well, perhaps she will find a little happiness herself.”

  We walked on to our apartment, bodyguards our silent shadows. It amused me that Arran had taken note of the pretty waiting woman, even though he also noticed that her eyes were not on him. He would always notice a pretty woman.

  His words were more concerning. I took great care not to ask how he knew so much about finding happiness with someone who was not a first choice. Love can grow, he’d said. But I didn’t dare to believe he was talking about himself. About me. If I pushed him into it, he would say glibly that of course he loved me, how could I doubt it? But h
e’d never volunteered it, never whispered it at moments of emotion. Never quite convinced me that he meant it.

  That was all right. As long as he was content to stay with me, I was happy.

  ~~~~~

  It was shocking how quickly we descended into catastrophe. One moment all was serene, events drifting along in their slow way, like smoke rising to the roof in gentle curls. The next, we were in the midst of a whirlwind.

  A whole Icthari nest was uncovered, distant kin of my father’s. Finding themselves homeless and in need of employment some years ago, they had sought help from Zandara, appealing to her Icthari heritage. And they had offered her an inducement – their expertise with poisons, which could secure her inheritance. They told everything, in the hope of clemency. But they couldn’t say what had happened to Yordryn and his family, since they had only provided the poisons.

  There was no alternative but to question Zandara herself. It would not be a formal trial, for no accusation had yet been made, but the questions would be asked by the realm’s most senior law scribes, with mages to determine the truth of the answers, and it would take place in front of the whole assembly. And such a questioning could become a trial in an instant, if the answers were unsatisfactory.

  Yannassia had summoned us all to her private sitting room to announce her decision. She was pale, a sickly sheen coating her skin. Torthran hovered anxiously, and Mother sat in a corner, ready to step forward the instant she was needed.

  Axandor’s whole body was shaking, and I felt quite wobbly myself. Hethryn was too old to hold my hand, but he stood very close to me, his eyes wide. It was not every sun that a sister was accused of attempted murder.

  Only Zandara seemed as calm as ever. “You intend to proceed with this charade, then, Mother?” she said.

  “I have to, you know that. The evidence is too strong to ignore. But if you are innocent…”

  “Pfft. You have already made up your mind, I daresay. All of you have condemned me already.” She cast her cold eyes over us.

  “I want only to find the truth, Zandara. The mages will make the final determination.”

  “I should like a hidden judgement. You will not deny me that, I hope.” That meant three mages, instead of the usual two, separated by screens so that none could see how the others decided. Only a unanimous decision would count.

  Yannassia bowed her agreement.

  “And you will allow me to choose the mages myself. I have that right.”

  That was not strictly true. She could propose, but Yannassia had the final say, as always. However, she nodded. “I will allow it. Everything will be done as you wish it, my dear.”

  At the appointed time, the assembly chamber was packed as full as it could hold. At least a hundred minor nobles had to be held in an outer chamber, as there was just no room for them to squeeze in. Several rows of benches had been set up around the outside of the chamber, where Bennamore’s nobility fanned themselves vigorously, and peered around the pillars and statuary lining the centre of the room.

  Some were solemn, and some excited, but they all wanted to catch a glimpse of Zandara, to see what she wore, the expression on her face, how she conducted herself. And Yannassia, too. Would either of them weep or fall into hysterics? And I suppose they watched me, as well. What a story to tell the children and grandchildren, to be savoured and recounted in ever greater detail, that they were there when the Drashona’s blood daughter was accused of trying to kill her own sister.

  The three mages Zandara had chosen were all elderly, no longer active spellcasters. They were of the old style, using only a single vessel to fuel their magic, far less powerful than the belt with multiple vessels that Cal and Jayna and other younger mages used. Such mages had far less ability to distinguish truth from falsity.

  The mages sat in their booths, hidden from each other by screens, visible only to Yannassia and her immediate court. Each held a white-painted stick. If they detected a lie, they would raise the stick aloft.

  Zandara sat in front of the mages, her back to them, facing Yannassia. She was confident, smiling, quite sure of the outcome. She had chosen the mages well. Without the powerful belt, they would never be able to reach a unanimous decision and condemn her.

  But I knew what Zandara did not – beneath their robes, all three wore a belt, clearly detectable in my mind. The mages were taking no chances. I felt sick.

  The three law scribes set about their work with practiced efficiency. They were gentle with Zandara, but their questions were relentless. They asked about the Icthari servants, about poison, about Yordryn, and, eventually, about me – the sweets and then the night-time assassins. Zandara answered every question without hesitation.

  And she lied.

  Time after time the mages raised their white sticks, all three of them in unison. I couldn’t stop the tears from pouring down my cheeks. And gradually Zandara understood, faltered and then fell silent. The law scribes continued their questioning, but they received no answers. There was nothing more to be said.

  Yannassia shed no tears, not then. Her face was expressionless throughout.

  But in the end her voice wavered and then cracked as she gave her judgement: guilty.

  “And what punishment does the Most Powerful decree?” asked the senior law scribe.

  “Death,” she whispered.

  Zandara leapt to her feet. “So you would kill your own daughter? I am of your blood! You cannot do this!”

  “I can. I must. The law must apply to everyone, or we are nothing but savages.”

  For a long moment they stared at each other, mother and daughter, Zandara defiant, Yannassia struggling to stay composed. They were so alike in looks, yet so different in other ways.

  In the end, it was Zandara who crumpled. “You will give me time to set my affairs in order?”

  “Three suns.” Yannassia’s voice was a mere thread. “Guards – lock her up.”

  Several guards bustled forward, but there was a flurry from the side of the chamber. “Wait, wait!” Mother, of course, racing across to Zandara. “I must check something – if you permit?” She turned to Yannassia, who nodded.

  Mother laid her hand on Zandara’s, and gave the tiniest of smiles. “Oh, yes. As I suspected – a child. You will not—?”

  “No, of course not,” Yannassia said, and she too seemed relieved. “The penalty will be deferred until the child is born, naturally.”

  A small reprieve. At that moment, it felt like a victory.

  But Zandara was not one to await her destiny in patience. That night she requested that her drusse be sent to share her quarters. The next morning, they were both found dead in their bed.

  She had used poison one last time.

  30: Firewood

  We were all in chaos. There was no time to grieve for my sister and her motherless child. Outwardly, the funeral rites and burning were conducted with all the proper solemnity and ritual pace. But when we retreated to the sanctuary of the Keep, the business of the realm went on as always, with perhaps even greater urgency.

  With Yannassia still unwell and spending every afternoon resting, much of the burden fell on me. I spent most of each sun in closed meetings with the nobles and ambassadors, the law scribes or the mages. So much to discuss, so much to be set right before Kingswell could settle back into its usual calmness. I had complained many times at the dullness of my life. I would have given everything for just a little of that dullness now.

  In the darkness, there was one gleam of light. A group of Icthari arrived, a little more formally than my proposed husband, for they stopped at the border and waited for an escort. They brought news that a plot had been uncovered to kill me, my brother and sister. Well, that part was not news to us, but the rest was.

  “You may be aware that the man concerned used to be our representative here,” their leader said. His Bennamorian was excellent. “Hal Torghesh. He had a very profitable business importing certain… erm, herbal remedies into Bennamore. But then he w
as replaced, and sent home very suddenly. He fell out with your Icthari husband, Lady. He was most unhappy about it.”

  Yannassia nodded. “I remember. I never heard what the difficulty was.”

  My father. Hal Torghesh had quarrelled with my father, all those years ago, and nurtured his resentment ever since. That explained a great deal. My father had left a trail of havoc behind him.

  The Icthari continued, “We do not know, either, but he and his family lost much status as a result. Several of his children were taken into slavery because he could no longer meet his obligations. He made a vow of restitution. Since his own children were taken from him, he would take the children of the man who had destroyed him.”

  “That is the custom amongst your people, then?” Yannassia said.

  “In a way,” he answered. “Although it is more usual to kidnap the children, and keep them as slaves. But perhaps that would have been impractical in this case. Yes, restitution is a right, when a man is aggrieved. So he planned an elaborate scheme, marrying his remaining son to one of your daughters. Fortunately, our spies discovered the scheme at an early stage. Even more fortunately, Hal Torghesh and his son have been killed by a neighbouring clan with a grudge of their own. None of the neighbours has yet claimed the resulting increase in status, but it must have been so, would you not agree?”

  “Indeed it must,” Yannassia said gravely.

  “It distresses me to bring you such tidings. Your daughter will be most grieved to lose her betrothed in such a manner.”

  “Yet it seems that she had a lucky escape,” Yannassia said. “We are grateful to you. Is this matter now at an end? We need not fear—?” She stopped, perhaps unable to talk about assassins so soon after Zandara’s own attempts to kill me.

  “You need not fear the Icthari,” he said quickly. “We are all as shocked as you must be. We wish for nothing but harmony between our two peoples. If there is any part of the treaty between us that needs to be strengthened, we would be most happy to accommodate you.”

  I glanced quickly towards Mother, standing immobile to one side of the dais, but I didn’t need her almost imperceptible nod. It was clear to me that the Icthari spoke the truth. With the Vahsi unsettling their eastern border, they would be very happy to have the Bennamorian army nearby.