by Matthew Ward
"She won't listen," she said, dejectedly. "I tried reason, persuasion and, I confess, shouting. Nothing made a difference. I don't understand." She was quiet for a moment, but when she spoke again, the despair had vanished from her voice, replaced by rising anger. "I'm not a fool. I knew there was a side of the serathiel you'd seen but I hadn't, but this is something else entirely. She went from enquiring attentively after my health and apologising for how upsetting this must be, to coldly refusing to even consider letting you go free, or even delaying your punishment in order that Adanika could bring the matter before the full court."
Arianwyn stepped forward, speaking quietly and quickly. "What's to stop me getting you out of here right now? The serathiel's given me the means to do it." She went on, clearly warming to the idea. "You've seen how much control I have now. I could hold the serathi off long enough for us to reach the stepping gate, I'm sure of it."
"Could you kill them, if necessary?"
"I think so," she said hesitantly. Her voice hardened. "Yes. Yes I could."
I glanced at the drudge. Goodness knew what he made of this conversation. "No."
"What do you mean, 'no'?"
"I mean, 'no, I won't let you do this'. I don't want you to get hurt, killed or drudged just to save me."
She glared at me. "That's not your choice to make, Edric."
"And what of your father? If you attempt to free me and fail, he'll have to live with whatever punishment you suffer. At worst, they may punish him too. You could lose us both. Are you prepared to live with that?"
"That's not fair," she snapped.
"No," I agreed. "It's not. But it is what will happen."
She stared at me, a muscle in her cheek twitching. "I don't want to lose you."
I smiled, though I didn't much feel like it. "I don't want to lose me either, but I refuse to lose you over something that I did."
Arianwyn strangled a frustrated noise, and then nodded with a sigh. "I can't believe what's happened."
"I can. You didn't see how the serathiel reacted when Myrzanna first defied her. I've not simply broken the laws of Skyhaven; I've challenged Azyra's authority. And I may not have been tactful when I was brought before her."
Arianwyn reached through the bars to brush my cheek. "Why am I not surprised? I suspect you couldn't have held a candle to Adanika. I thought she and the serathiel were going to come to blows."
That surprised me. I hadn't wanted to say so in front of Koschai, but I hadn't felt I could rely on much in the way of support from the Speaker of Truth. "It was that bad?"
Arianwyn nodded. "She said afterwards that she felt responsible. After all, without her, neither of us would be here, would we?"
"I suppose not." Of course, I'd have likely been killed by Scarface, so I wasn't strictly sure how much better off I'd have been. "Your father's concerned about you. He said something strange happened last night."
She sighed. "I've already told him he's worrying about nothing. He must have dreamt it, that's all."
"Or you must have forgotten it."
"I don't forget things," she snapped, then looked appalled as she realised how strongly she'd reacted. "Look, what's more believable? That my father had a bad dream, or that I came to him in the middle of the night, near hysterical, claiming the serathi were going to kill me?"
"Your father didn't say anything about the serathi."
"Then he must have forgotten!"
"Or you're remembering something?" I asked.
She shot me an impatient look. "Why would I start to remember something that never came to pass?" She sighed. "I don't want to talk about it. We don't..." She stopped, her eyes suddenly bright with tears. "We don't have much time left, and I don't want to spend it arguing."
I reached out to brush her tears aside, but found that my arms couldn't pass through the bars so easily as hers.
Arianwyn smiled at the ridiculousness of the gesture, and took my hand in hers. "I appreciate the thought," she said softly, and turned to address the drudge. "I can't talk to him properly through these bars," she pointed out. "Can you lock me in there with him?"
[[I regret that I cannot. I do not have the key.]]
"Can you get the key?"
[[No. If I am not here, I cannot be sure he does not harm himself. I am sorry.]]
"So much for that idea," Arianwyn muttered.
In the end, we both ended up sat on the floor near the cell door, her with an arm thrust between the bars and looped through mine. We talked for hours, not of important matters – well, not of matters important to anyone else – but of moments we'd shared, and things that we feared would have otherwise gone unsaid. It was as if we sought to cram into those fleeting moments all the words of all the tomorrows that would no longer be ours.
"I was so glad when you told me you'd decided to become Emperor," she said at one point. "Not at the circumstances, of course, but you should have done it long ago. I knew from the first moment I saw you that you had it in you to be a great man... and I do so like being proved correct." Then she grinned at her self-mockery.
All too quickly, the afternoon fell into dusk, and dusk settled into the gloom of night. We'd sat in silence for a while by then, and I sensed Arianwyn nodding as the sleeplessness of the previous night caught up with her. I rocked her gently awake, and we made our farewells.
"I'll be back before dawn," she promised. "I'll be with you at the end, I swear."
"Thank you, Miss Trelan. But you must promise me that you'll do nothing foolish."
She shook her head. "I can't."
"You must. I can't be responsible for something like this happening to you as well. Please, you must promise me this one thing."
Arianwyn held my gaze, and gave a small, sharp nod. Then, her face stricken with emotion, she left the gaol.
Dawn was but hours away and, though I closed my eyes and lay down, I found I couldn't sleep. Anticipation gnawed at my gut. I knew it would only get worse as the hour approached. I was no coward. I'd fought my share of battles for the Empire, and had faced enemies that would have driven other men mad. But at that moment, I'd have preferred to face a hundred of Malgyne's skull-helmed revenants than stay a second longer in that cell. I think I'd have welcomed the sentence being carried out early, robbery of my last few hours though it might have been, if only to make an end of the waiting.
"Oh, how the mighty have fallen."
I opened my eyes and sat upright, greeted by the most unwelcome sight of Councillor Magorian standing a few feet clear of the cell door, his arms folded and his face twisted into a malicious grin.
"Your concern touches me, councillor." There was no point in rising to his jibes. "I'm surprised to see you on Skyhaven."
"Oh, Karov and I are to serve as representatives of the council at dawn tomorrow. He seems to feel that he owes you that much. I just want to see what occurs. I'm quite looking forward to it."
"The council don't care about my fate then?"
"They don't know. Did you really think that we'd have convened the whole council to discuss your situation? Besides, if Lady Trelan had gotten wind of it, she might just have rallied enough support to force us to do something. I'm afraid I couldn't allow that. Karov was easily convinced to let it go unmentioned until tomorrow."
"What do you want, Magorian?" I asked, my reserves of patience spent.
"Not much," he said. "Not much at all. One doesn't often get to see one's enemies removed by such happy coincidence." He peered through the bars. "Why you hadn't the decency to die a week and a half ago, I just can't fathom."
"So those were your men?" I asked wearily. Somehow, it wasn't much of a surprise.
"Oh yes. Such a delightful irony to have them masquerade as Sidarists. Of course, if I'd known you'd had your own men waiting in the square, I'd have sent more."
"I didn't have any men in the square," I said slowly, thinking back to the black-garbed thugs who had first accosted me, and then fought against the men I now knew to be Magor
ian's assassins. "It was just me and Arianwyn. I have no idea who those others were."
"Really? That's very interesting," he said thoughtfully. "It would seem someone knows far more about what I'm doing than I'd like. I shall have to find out who."
"Perhaps it's Karov?" I suggested bitterly.
Magorian shook his head. "No. He's hard to manipulate, I'll grant you, but not because he possesses any great intellect. He's fixated on right and wrong. It'd be admirable if it wasn't so desperately pathetic."
"You shouldn't speak of your master like that."
"He's not my master," Magorian snapped. "It amuses me to play at being his advisor, his assistant, his mouthpiece, but I'm twice the man he'll ever be."
"You're just another serpent slithering your way into power," I said contemptuously. "You're not even that good, or you wouldn't resort to such heavy-handed efforts. Solomon would have laughed at you, then had you killed before the sound faded from your ears."
Magorian snorted. "Ah yes, the great Lord Solomon, terror of the Tressian elite. And where is he now? Dead, I shouldn't wonder, or languishing in squalor, dreaming of better days." He wagged a finger at me. "I admit, the attempt on your life was clumsy, and I apologise as one man of state to another, but the serathiel insisted, and I would have so hated to disappoint her." The last was said with heavy irony, but I hardly heard it.
"What?" I demanded.
"I should have thought that was obvious," Magorian smiled thinly. "The serathiel made the request. She even withdrew the graces from our side of the stepping gate to make it possible."
"Why would she do that?" I couldn't even begin to imagine why Azyra would have attempted such a thing, but it certainly cast a new light on my current predicament.
"I don't know," Magorian admitted cheerfully. "I admit that I didn't much care. But she was very clear that Lady Trelan wasn't to be harmed. A pity, really, but a serathiel's favour is not to be lightly cast aside."
He stepped closer to the bars. "I really must get some sleep, but I want to tell you another little story before I go. Did you know we reach the border tomorrow, a little before dawn?"
"The border?" I knew, of course, but felt it better to play dumb.
"The one between the Empire and the Republic," he chided. "The serathi have kindly offered to ensure that your people don't cause trouble. Or rather, that if they do, it isn't for long."
"Very kind of them, I'm sure."
"Indeed. understand that you're feeling a little bit betrayed, but they do genuinely seem to want to help those who accept them."
"They're just going to watch, not attack?"
"Oh, that's the intention, certainly. It's a deterrent of sorts. The serathiel has ordered Skyhaven to drop beneath the clouds, so your people will see the might of the serathi from afar, and be discouraged from challenging it. At least, that's the idea. Sadly, there'll be a terrible misunderstanding."
"What do you mean?" I asked warily.
"You're aware Commander Torev is fighting against the fallen in the south? Well, regrettably, no one seems to have informed him the alliance has been annulled, and I understand he's asked the Empire for assistance. Your Emperor, of course, knows the alliance is ended, but has seized upon this opportunity to repair it. I understand he's personally bringing some eight thousand warriors to Torev's aid. It's very generous. But the serathi don't know they're coming to help. They'll see an army marching across the border, and draw the logical conclusion."
I grimaced. "It'll look like an invasion."
"I do hope so," Magorian replied. "It would have been a shame to waste so much hard work. It's been no easy thing to keep Torev in the dark these last few days. He's a wayward servant, but even he'd never ask the Empire for help if he'd known the alliance had ended. Heralds are hard to bribe, but the roads are so very dangerous these days for those travelling alone. Would you like to hazard a guess as to when your uncle will cross the border?"
I didn't need to say anything. I knew where this was headed.
"A little after dawn tomorrow, by my estimate," he said cheerfully.
"Maybe he'll disappoint you. Maybe he'll take a different route."
Magorian laughed. "Come now Edric, you know as well as I do that there's only one viable crossing of the River Ravonn for an army heading south. Eight thousand men? No other road in the region will do. Why do you think that's why the serathi are going to watch the border from there?" He gesture expansively. "I shall certainly have plenty to entertain me in the morning."
"I'm not going to let you do this."
"Oh really? And you'll stop me how?" he sneered. "You'll either be locked away still, or a drudge. Neither possibility worries me greatly."
"I can tell everyone what you've told me." I stepped closer and gripped the bars. Magorian and I were now less than a foot apart. I'd have drawn my sword and run him through, had I thought it would have done the slightest good.
"And who will believe you?"
"Koschai and Arianwyn. Maybe even Karov."
"Ah, true enough, but the serathiel won't, and that's all that matters. Besides, I understand they'll gag you before they bring you to the conversion chamber. Apparently the process is rather painful, and the serathiel doesn't like listening to the screams. Oh, and there's also this..."
His hand moved across his body. There was a glint of metal, and I felt a sudden pain. I stepped quickly away, and saw an ugly gash on the back of my right hand. Magorian tucked the tiny blade back out of sight.
So much for the drudge keeping me from harm, I thought, but there'd hardly been anything to see. "What have you done?"
"Just a parting gift," he said with dark glee. "You'll not be telling anyone anything Edric. I doubt you'll be awake enough to know what's happening to you."
"More poison?" Already my arms and legs felt heavy.
"It's seldora flower. A curative, under the right circumstances, but for those with enough imagination it can be so much more."
I tried to draw my sword. Instead I lost my balance and fell to my knees.
"Why...?" I tried to form words, but they wouldn't come.
Magorian crouched beside the bars, and gazed mockingly at me as my vision faded. "Why tell you at all? Because it amuses me, Edric. Because I want to give you something truly memorable to carry into your new life as a slave. Consider it a gift, and a small measure of revenge for my brothers and sisters in Salkard. The Burning Lord will rise." He rose abruptly. "I'll see you tomorrow, Ambassador Saran."
The darkness claimed me before he reached the stairs.
Ten
Whatever else Magorian's poison did, it didn't silence my dreams.
I stood somewhere in Otherworld, a roadway stretching before me and spectral buildings looming overhead. Constans was there, as he ever had been of late. His features were indistinct, shrouded by the mists of Otherworld or perhaps the poison in my veins. He gesticulated furiously, and though I couldn't make out any of his words, I felt certain I was being derided for my foolishness. With the peculiar awareness one sometimes experiences whilst dreaming, I concluded I'd subconsciously conjured Constans up to harangue me, and I certainly deserved it.
I opened my mouth to speak, to assure Constans I already knew how idiotic I'd been, but the words died on my tongue. Constans had gone, replaced by the white cat I'd seen on Skyhaven. It sat amidst the swirling mists as if not possessing a care in the world, staring at me with aloof green eyes.
The skeins of mist grew darker and denser. Suddenly, I was alone in my cell. It was still a dream, of that I was sure. The proportions weren't quite right; the gaol window was warped; the neighbouring cage seemingly repaired, its door reattached. There was no sign of the drudge. The cat remained, sitting calmly beyond the bars, its tail twitching.
"Wake up," said the cat.
Confused, I stepped towards the bars. My legs gave way and I fell heavily to the floor. I tried to stand again, but I couldn't move.
"Wake up," the cat said again. "It's t
aken me all night to purge the poison, and you don't have much time."
I still couldn't move. I tried to explain this to the cat – somehow it was important to me that it understood why I wasn't obeying – but no came.
"Wake up!" the cat shouted, and at last I did.
I wasn't lying on the floor where I'd fallen in my dream, but on the stone bench at the back of the cell. A pre-dawn glow crept through the gaol window. I glanced at door of my cell, half expecting to see the cat.
A woman stood by the door. She wasn't a serathi, for she had no wings, but nor was she mortal. Her skin was white, just as that of the serathi was white, but there was a faint glow about it, as if lit from within by moonlight. Her pale hair was cut in a short bob, her dress stiched from a cream fabric and synched at the waist by a simple silver cord. Most striking of all, her eyes were brilliant green and full of anger – anger directed at me, apparently.
"Don't just lie there," she snapped. "I've already cut this too close. Bad enough I'll answer for interfering, without it having been for nothing."
I sat warily upright, swinging my legs to the floor. The gash on the back of my hand still hurt, but I was more alert and awake than I'd any right to be. Unfortunately, I wasn't moving fast enough for the woman.
"Come on! You stupid, idle mortal. Have you any idea how hard it is to make a drudge sleep? It's not going to stay that way forever."
The drudge still stood at his post. He was still upright, but his head was bowed and his arms hung slack at his sides. "You did that?"
The woman rolled her eyes. "No. It got bored, and drifted off. Are you coming, or aren't you?"
I gestured towards the cell door. "Not easily."
The woman sighed, and grasped the lock. There was flare of light, the air above the lock rippled, and the door swung inwards. "Now?"
I clambered upright. "Not to seem ungrateful, but I've made a lot of rash decisions lately. They've not all turned out terribly well. How do I know this isn't a trap? Who are you?"
The woman scowled. "How do you know this isn't a trap? You don't. As to who I am, you can call me Elspeth. I am a Daughter of Ashana."
"I've never heard of such a thing."