He nodded his head. “Yes, and what would we get out of this bargain?”
“Land, trade, whatever you desire, perhaps a marital alliance. I know the regent sent his daughter to influence ties between our kingdoms. We could arrange a marriage between his other children with high-ranking dukes here in Danhad.”
“What about yourself? My lord and master, the king regent, has a son who is not much older than you. It would honor him to have you marry his son.”
“I am afraid I cannot do that.”
He smiled a thin smile. “I can see that.” He leaned forward. “Everything you promise me now has been promised before. Do not think you are the first to come to me with offers of land and trade. We in Jerauch are rich with trade, and this king on the Danhad throne favors merchants. What would I win in deposing him, which I assume is your aim, since you wish to correspond with my grandson.”
“You made a pact with Damara long ago, and I doubt it was to keep Adair on the throne. Whatever she promised you, I will fulfill for you if you will do this for me.” It was a reckless promise, but I was desperate enough to make it.
“Damara promised to make me regent in place of the current one. Tell me, diviner, do you have the power to make that happen?”
I hesitated to answer. In truth, no, but the king could do that. If Layton took the throne, and he heeded my words, it might be possible. The regent of Jerauch was chosen by a council, and Danhad had a voice in that decision as the ruling kingdom over Jerauch. Layton may be willing to help; at least I hope he will.
“I would bring your case before the king when the time comes,” I replied neutrally.
He laughed. “You would give me empty promises, and I would take all the risk. Is that the measure of it?”
I flushed but did not back down. “I may have only words, but you have seen my power, and words are the weapon I use. Either you can take what I offer, or find some other likely person who will give you the crown you so desire.”
He chuckled. This time there was more hint of amusement. “You drive a hard bargain.” He tugged at his pointed beard as he thought. “I will send your messages, and I will bring the matter of the army to my regent; that is all I can promise.”
It had to be enough. I did not know any other way. “Good, then I have my first message for you to deliver.” I produced a folded piece of parchment from a hidden pocket in the folds of my gown. “See that it is sent as soon as possible.”
“I suppose it would be to my benefit to have my grandson on the throne,” he said as he put the missive in his coat pocket. “He will be much more inclined to my request than your current king.”
I did not correct his assumption. It would only help my own plan. The different pieces of the plot were coming together. I was fortunate everything was going so smoothly. Nearly too fortunate, it is also so easy I expect something to go awry. When I returned to my apartments, Elenna had a message for me. Sabine’s condition had worsened. The magiker said she was asking for me. I did not hesitate to go to her. When I arrived outside her chamber door, I rapped on it several times in quick succession. She just has a fever. There’s nothing to worry about, I told myself, but the urgency of the magiker’s message worried me. Duchess Magdale answered the door. She was pale with dark circles under her eyes. She looked as if she had not slept in some time.
“I’m glad you’ve come. She’s been asking for you.” The duchess exhaled as she reached for me and dragged me into the room beyond. “She will not eat, and I’ve done everything the magiker has told me to do to keep her cool,” she said quickly, her words overlapping one another.
Sabine was lying in her bed. There were blankets piled upon her. I could see the sheen of sweat upon her brow from the entryway. She looked fragile as if she were made of fine porcelain. All the color had drained from her cheeks, leaving her ashen and haunted. I walked over to her bedside. She was sleeping. I touched her hand, which was on top of the coverlet, and it was scorching. I withdrew my hand.
“How long has she been like this?” I asked the duchess.
She wrung her hands. “Since late last night. The magiker has been here several times. We’ve tried to get her to drink the tonics, but nothing works.”
I looked away from her and back down at Sabine. Her eyes fluttered open, and she looked at me. “Maea?” she croaked.
I sat down on the edge of the bed. “I’m here. Don’t worry.”
She closed her eyes again and took a rattling breath. She took a few more deep breaths before saying, “I’m dying, Maea.”
Tears stung the back of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “Don’t be foolish. This is just a cold. You’ll be well soon enough.”
She tried to shake her head, but she did not seem to have the energy even for that. “I’ve done so many things that I regret.” She inhaled deeply and then coughed, a racking sound that made me shudder. “Maea, I am sorry. I should have been a better friend to you.”
“You are a good friend, my truest...” I wasn’t sure if it was a lie or the truth anymore.
Her breathing deepened and her eyes closed. “No. I played you... false...”
She had fallen back asleep before she could say more. I waited a moment to see if she would wake again, but she did not. She is sick. That’s why she’s saying these things. We are friends. I trust her; we understand one another. The duchess was watching me from across the room. Her expression was a complicated mixture of exhaustion and pity. I could not look her in the eye. Do not pity me. I know the truth. Sabine is just delusional with fever. But a nagging voice at the back of my mind would not let me alone. Sabine plotted with Sarelle and Jon. She was pulling the strings at court, and Layton says she has her own followers. To what end is she working? I did not want to think those things. It cut me deep to think she had never been my friend when I had thought she was my truest friend all along. I need one person I can trust.
“You should go and get some rest,” I said to the duchess. “I’ll stay with Her Majesty.”
Duchess Magdale looked to Sabine and then to me before bowing her head and leaving us alone. I retreated to the chair beside her bed. I picked up a nearby book to read. I realized I had been staring at the same page for quite a while before putting it aside. I had started embroidering a dress for my daughter to wear once she was born. After I tore out my fifteenth stitch in a row, I decided it was a failed cause. The magiker came and checked on Sabine. She did not wake, and he instructed me to keep her cool by dabbing her brow with a cloth. I dipped the cloth in the cool water over and over until my flesh began to prune.
Hours later, Sabine woke once more. Her eyes were bright with fever, but she seemed more alert this time.
“Maea, I want you to read my son’s future. I need to know what sort of man he will become.” She did not mention her passing again, but I could see the desperation in her gaze. I could not refuse her.
“When Duchess Magdale comes to relieve me, I’ll go look in the water for you.”
“Thank you.” She leaned back and fell asleep for a time.
Duchess Magdale came a few hours later to relieve me once again. I was weary and heartsick, but I made good on my promise to Sabine, and I went to the Sea Chamber. It was the only place I could ply my gifts as of late. Even the dreams were silent. The time is drawing nearer with every breath I take. Soon I will have to face my destiny.
The descent to the chamber was long and arduous. I stopped more than once to catch my breath. I watched the light dancing upon the walls. If it had been anyone other than Sabine, I would not have ventured down here. I had wanted to avoid this place until the day arrived, but something about Sabine’s condition and her desperation to know more about her son swayed me. And to be truthful, I was curious as well. I feared for the child. If Sabine dies, will he become the monster I saw in my visions? When I had first dreamed of Sabine and Adair’s son, he was a monster sitting on a dual throne. He will not become that monster. I will not let that happen.
T
he door to the Sea Chamber was open when I approached. I could smell the sea, and a cool breeze blew from within. I stepped inside, placing my torch in one of the sconces along the wall. The flame flickered in the breeze coming from an unknown source. I heard the plinking of water falling into the basin. I walked over to it, feeling that familiar draw to gaze upon the waters. I brushed my hands against the smooth stone and stared over the edge into the darkness beyond.
Within the water, I saw a handsome young man. He had olive skin and dark hair like his mother. He kept his hair long and tied at the base of his neck with a strip of ribbon. He stood at a crossroad. Two paths stood before him. One was shadowed and full of dark and twisted oaks. The other sparkled like the stars in the sky and was bright and gilded in gold. A man appeared before him. He was bent, with a long beard that trailed down to the ground.
“Choose, boy, but be aware, appearances can be deceiving.”
He paused as he weighed each option. He took a step forward, but his path was not revealed to me. The image changed, and he was no longer along the path but in a throne room. A woman with golden hair coifed on the top of her head sat poised at the edge of a throne. In her hand she twirled a crown; it was inset with rubies. The banners on the walls were familiar to me. They were that of the Neaux royal family, the rearing stallion.
The woman stepped down from the podium. She was beautiful, but her eyes were cunning. She caressed his cheek and kissed him in a brief touch of lips. He flushed and turned away from her. He folded his hands behind his back and regarded the marble floors beneath his boots. She smiled a vicious smile.
“What will it be?” she asked. “What do you choose?”
He looked up at her, and as he did, I saw a reflection of his father in his features. It was a subtle shadow, the shape of his eyes and his mouth. Most of all it was the color of his eyes. Let him not be his father’s son. Let him favor his mother.
“I do not know,” he whispered.
He bowed his head again, and the image shifted like sand through an hourglass.
The final image revealed itself. Sabine’s son rode before a column of soldiers. They were a mixed company; some wore blue and silver while others wore crimson and gold. There were others mixed among them: wild and fierce Biski, with their beads and feathers tangled in their hair; Jerauchians with long fur coats and their broad shoulders and fair hair. To his left rode a young man with auburn hair and laughing green eyes. For a moment I thought it was Layton, but he was different somehow. That must be Layton’s young son. To his right was a young woman. She had black hair, dark as midnight, and round violet eyes. My daughter! I realized. She wore a cloak over her shoulders, and there were beads tied in her hair in the Biski style.
She brought her horse closer to him. “It’s not too late to turn back, you know?” she said to Sabine’s son.
He smiled at her and said, “Don’t worry. I made my choice.”
She laughed. “You really want to bring all the nations to one rule?”
He smiled. “I do. It’s what I was born to do.”
I stared at the dark water for a few moments as the vision faded away. Is Sabine’s son destined to unite all the nations? It was a vastly different vision than the first one I had of the baby that would one day become this man. My daughter was by his side. It was a strange feeling to see my daughter, who even now still grew inside me. I rested a hand on my stomach. I had fought to keep Adair from bringing both Neaux and Danhad under one rule. His son will try to complete the task, and my daughter will be there beside him. I was not sure how I felt about this revelation. Would it be a bad thing if we shared the rule? What if Adair’s son is like him and he bewitches my daughter as he once did to me. The very idea made me sick to my stomach. My daughter fluttered and kicked inside the womb. That didn’t seem right. He was different; he didn’t have that cunning his father showed.
“Your daughter will be his balance,” a voice whispered to me in the dark.
I spun around to see who the speaker was, but I did not see anyone. Gooseflesh rose on my arms as I stayed in the chamber a while longer. Whoever had spoken was not going to reveal any more. I sighed and went to the stairs to begin the trek up.
I went up the steps and returned to my chambers to rest. Elenna fussed over me and gave me a sleeping draught. I will close my eyes for a moment and then go to Sabine to tell her what I have seen. However, as I had done before, sleep claimed me, and I did not wake until dawn light was falling on my face. I had not even changed from the night before. I broke my fast before returning to Sabine’s chamber. I will tell her the great man her son will be. I can see now that my daughter will fight the darkness in him I saw before. She will be pleased to hear about this, I am sure.
When I arrived outside her chamber, the door was ajar. I heard voices shouting from within. I rushed in to see the magiker standing beside Sabine, who was convulsing upon the bed. Duchess Magdale was standing nearby, her hands on her face, weeping. I was too shocked to move. Sabine’s eyes had rolled back in her head as her limbs flew about.
“Hold her down!” the magiker shouted to a maid who was trying to keep Sabine from flailing about.
Sabine made a choked sound as if she was struggling for a breath. I watched through a fog as she clutched at the sheets, her back arching and her face turning blue. The magiker was shouting, and Duchess Magdale was crying. I could not move. I did not know what to do.
Then everything was still. The maid took a step back, and the magiker collapsed into the chair beside the bed. Duchess Magdale fell to her knees; tears slid down her cheeks. Sabine was not moving. No. My feet moved without me thinking. I walked over to her bed. Her color was wrong, and her eyes were staring at the ceiling unseeing. No.
“Sabine?” I touched her hand. It was burning from the fever.
“She’s gone,” the magiker said.
No. It cannot be. I climbed onto the bed beside her. I grabbed her shoulders and shook her. “Sabine, say something!” Her head rolled back and forth; she would not wake. Could not wake. No!
Someone was grabbing me, pulling me away. No!
“She’s not dead. She’s a mother. Who is going to raise her son?”
“She is dead. The fever took her. She’s gone,” the magiker snarled.
“No!” I screamed. The syllables all became one long stretched-out sound. The very essence of me had been ripped out. “No. No. No! Not her. She was good and innocent. She was not supposed to die. No one else was supposed to die.”
“Death comes for us all,” the magiker said in his blunt manner. I hated him in that instant. How could he be so callous?
I shook my head. No. This is a nightmare. I will awake, and she’ll be alive, playing with her son, singing to him, loving him. I opened my eyes, and she was lying still on the bed. I threw my head back and let out a guttural lament. I am the harbinger of death. Everything I touch dies. I did this to her. If I had stopped her marriage to Adair, then she would have lived. She died because I failed.
Chapter Twenty-one
WINTER TRANSFORMED into spring in what seemed like overnight. Sabine was laid to rest in a lavish ceremony, and even Adair seemed reserved. He wore the black of mourning for the appropriate time as did much of the court. The beginning of spring was a somber one. Even the Maiden Dance was a drab affair. During his mourning, I rarely saw Adair and then only at council meetings. If I had not known better, I would have thought he actually mourned for her. The truth, however, was that he did not want to give insult. For him to be seen in the company of his supposed mistress close to the death of his wife would have been dishonorable. It was a welcome reprieve, and it left me much time to continue making connections to help place Layton on the throne once Adair was gone.
As for Sabine and Adair’s son, he was healthy and growing every day. I visited him often and found that my own daughter was most active while I held the prince. My daughter grew apace within me, and I could no longer hide my growing girth. Adair had gowns made for me, whi
ch only encouraged the rumors that I was carrying his child. I let them believe what they would, but when I was alone in my chambers, I would whisper to my daughter about her real father, the man who had sacrificed all to save me.
“I will break this curse on him, and we shall be together,” I would tell her as I stroked my belly. It was more to comfort me than her. As the promised day drew closer, I began to fear more. There were so many things that could go wrong. Beau was never apprehended, and I was absolved of guilt for his escape. It was believed that he had overcome his guard when they brought his dinner and then proceeded to cut his way through all the tower guards. Only Elenna and I knew the truth.
As for my own plots, I had been relaying messages through the ambassador for months, and Johai, Neaux and the Biski were drawing closer to Keisan all the time. I woke each morning to feel Johai closer to me than the day before. I would often look to the sky, expecting it to be black for the day the moon swallowed the sun. Time remained; the promised day was on the summer solstice. Is there time enough? All my meddling would come for naught if I could not get Johai into the Sea Chamber on the promised day. Everything I had done up until now was to bring him to Keisan to the Sea Chamber as was our destiny.
Spring had started to turn warm, and I felt summer on the air like a balmy breeze. I had trouble climbing out of bed, and I had to swing my legs over the edge of the bed to get myself up in the morning. A few days before the promised day, I woke sticky with sweat. My daughter stirred in the womb and pressed upon the walls of her confinement. I had perhaps a month or two remaining in my pregnancy; the day of promise would come long before my daughter took her first breath, however. I went to the dining room to break my fast. I found I often woke ravenous.
I took a seat at the table, and Elenna served me fresh-baked bread, a hardboiled egg and a bit of mutton.
[fan] diviners saga 03 - diviners fate Page 27