by James Evans
“There is one, yes, who might be called highly promising, Mother. The other two are more dull, more every day, at least in our terms. They’ll make adequate clerics but not great leaders.”
“Well, keep an eye on them but don’t scare them off. I want to know who they’re working for and why the sudden interest. Intercept their messages, if you can, and make sure they aren’t able to leave The Farm.”
Cardinal Jendryng nodded.
“Yes, Mother. Is there nothing else you’d like me to do?”
“No, not for now, just keep me informed.”
Lady Drocia took a fork-full of cake and chewed thoughtfully.
“Although maybe we should shake things up a bit, keep them moving around. Yes, let’s offer all the students an opportunity to come to the city for the Solstice and see who decides to go and who stays. That might be informative, don’t you think?”
Jendryng grinned.
“That sounds excellent, Mother. I’ll make the announcement at supper.”
He sat back and picked up his coffee, clearly much relieved to have spoken of his fears and to have agreed a plan.
“Now, to my news,” said Lady Drocia, “a report reached Esterengel yesterday that the ship transporting Abaythien Marrinek to Ankeron West foundered, about a week ago. Marrinek is believed to have escaped and headed west toward Catshed then probably south toward the city state of Vensille.”
She paused to eat another piece of cake while Jendryng sipped his coffee and digested the news.
“Escaped? Interesting. I wonder how he did it?”
“Nobody seems to know. Or care, at the moment. The Council is investigating, of course, and the Lord Justice is desperate to prove that she wasn’t at fault, but that’s all we know for now.”
“She’ll have to be told,” said Cardinal Jendryng, pouring fresh coffee for Lady Drocia and then himself.
“Quite. How is she? Keeping busy?”
Cardinal Jendryng sipped his coffee.
“You knew her better than me, Mother, but I hear good reports from the other instructors. And she has been teaching her courses now for more than fourteen months. I would say she has settled into her new life, although I’m not sure she has quite accepted her changed circumstances.”
“Good. Acceptance would imply permanency and I don’t think any of us would want to wish that on her. Summon her here, I will talk to her myself.”
Jendryng nodded and walked to the fireplace to pull the bell cord that would summon a servant. He turned back to Lady Drocia.
“I would hate to lose her, Mother, but maybe, if we are being scrutinised, it would be sensible for her to…” he paused, choosing his next words carefully, “for her to consider spending time with her family, away from The Farm.”
“Quite,” said Lady Drocia, “I wouldn’t be surprised if she decides to leave today, which might raise questions. Still...” she paused as the door opened to admit a footman, who bowed his head to Lady Drocia.
“Ah, Fernwright. I want you to find the Lady Aspene and ask her to attend me here at her earliest convenience. She may be teaching a class, in which case you should interrupt with my apologies.”
“Yes, your Eminence.”
Fernwright turned away, closing the door behind him.
“And now we wait,” murmured Jendryn, finishing his coffee.
They didn’t have to wait long. After a few minutes, there was a knock at the door and Fernwright appeared, leading a tall attractive woman; Lady Aspene. Fernwright bowed and left, closing the door behind him.
Lady Aspene strode confidently into the room and curtseyed to Cardinal Jendryng but her face turned white when she saw Lady Drocia sitting opposite him. Lady Drocia pushed herself upright from her chair and, leaning heavily on her staff, tapped her way across the floor to embrace Lady Aspene.
“Mother,” said Lady Aspene, “I hadn’t expected to see you here.”
She trembled slightly as she took Lady Drocia’s hand and bent to kiss it. Jendryng nodded to Lady Drocia and then left the room, closing the door behind him as he went.
“Sit down, child,” said Lady Drocia, gesturing to the armchair vacated by Cardinal Jendryng, “you look well. The country air agrees with you?”
“Thank you, yes Mother. I have found a degree of peace, within these walls. And nobody has bothered me or asked difficult questions. It is an almost idyllic life.”
Lady Drocia snorted.
“Rubbish. Don’t give me ‘idyllic’,” snapped Lady Drocia, suddenly harsh and unsympathetic, “it’s dull and boring. You’re stuck out here, estranged from your social circle and cut-off from your former friends. You’ve been violently separated from your husband and forced into hiding because of his crimes. You’re filling time training worthy students to be effective clerics but you can’t wait to escape back to your former life. You must hate it.”
Lady Aspene’s face twitched with each sentence.
“I... yes.”
There was no denying it. Teaching was rewarding, in its own way, but it didn’t compare to the richness of her former life.
Lady Drocia leant forward and took Aspene’s hand.
“I don’t mean to dwell on your pain, my child, but it is important always to see life as it truly is, not as we might wish it to be, and you must remember that a disguise is not the same as a life, no matter how comfortable it might become.”
She released her hand and sat back.
“Anyway, none of that matters now. Your husband has managed to escape. The ship transporting him to Ankeron West foundered. He seems to have survived and fled west.”
Lady Aspene closed her eyes and sat back in the armchair, breathing deeply. Only now, as the tension drained from her muscles and she relaxed into the chair, did she understand just how worried she had been for the last two years. There had been no warning, no hint of suspicion, no suggestion that he was to be arrested. The speed with which she had been ostracised by almost everyone she knew, even those closest to her, those she had thought of as loyal and lifelong friends, had been terrifying. The news, gleaned from a former friend too scared now to be seen with her in public, that she was sought for questioning by the Inquisition had triggered her flight from the court of Esterengel. She had gone first to the Temple, then to a small house in the countryside and finally, after weeks of hiding and jumping at shadows, she had found her way here, to The Farm.
The news that her husband was alive and free rather than caged in the living death of Ankeron West changed everything. She sat up and opened her eyes, looking straight at Lady Drocia.
“Thank you, Mother.”
She flexed her fingers and looked at her hands. They no longer trembled.
“What will you do?” asked Lady Drocia.
Lady Aspene looked up from her hands.
“Follow,” she said simply.
Lady Drocia nodded.
“Good. He will need your help and guidance, you need his support and strength. The report said he was in Catshed, on the Guiln, although God alone knows why.”
“I suppose everyone will be looking for him?”
“Not yet. The Council decided not to release the news while they conducted their ‘investigation’ but that’ll be cursory and short-lived at best. The Lord Justice cares only about defending her name, the others care only about deflecting the blame onto someone else, preferably someone far away from Esterengel. As soon as they think they have the results they need they’ll loose the Kareethi, if they haven’t already, and mobilise armies to recapture him before the Emperor finds out.”
“Lady Fiethien,” said Aspene, with real hatred in her voice, “always was a small-minded, self-serving, stupid little bitch. She did nothing, said nothing, when the Inquisitors took my husband.”
Lady Drocia’s face hardened.
“And rightly so, considering the rumours about the crimes for which he was arrested. Nobody was going to contradict the Emperor, not when he was so furiously certain. Even I could go only so
far and that achieved precisely nothing.”
“But you tried, Mother, and for that I am grateful. Others did nothing and said nothing. They circled like vultures while the Inquisition destroyed us then they swooped on our estates, our houses, our possessions. We have nothing left, Mother, nothing at all. They took everything we had, everything we had built. I cannot forget and I will not forgive.”
“Nor should you, my child, but revenge can wait. You have other tasks to attend.”
Aspene stood and straightened her clothes.
“I must go, Mother.”
Lady Drocia stood awkwardly, leaning heavily on her staff. She pulled from her pocket the small charm she had taken from her cabinet and held it out to Lady Aspene.
“Do you know what this is?”
Lady Aspene looked at the tiny charm as it lay in her hand then shook her head.
“No, I hadn’t really expected that you would. It belongs to your husband. Give it to him, when you see him. Will you continue to use the same name?”
“No, Mother. I think Aspene suits me and it has worked well at The Farm but it wouldn’t do to carry it too far. I will write to you, something bland and innocuous, but you’ll know it’s from me.”
Lady Drocia nodded.
“Very well. Probably better that I don’t know for now anyway. You know where to find me.”
She pulled a small purse from another pocket.
“This should cover your expenses, if you travel modestly, and I’ll have Jendryng find you a horse. Hurry now, and pack what you need. Find me before you go.”
They embraced, then Lady Aspene headed to the door.
“I’ve always thought very fondly of you, my child. I would be disappointed were something to happen to you now. Take care.”
Lady Aspene turned toward her, hand on the door knob.
“You too, Mother. And thank you.”
She stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Lady Drocia alone again.
Lady Aspene stood outside the Cardinal’s study for moment collecting her thoughts, then she noticed that Lady Drocia’s maid servant was watching from across the hall. She pulled herself back to the present and walked down the corridor towards her cell, passing the theatres and classrooms where she used to teach. She paused, briefly, outside the double doors of the main lecture theatre, considering whether to go in and say goodbye. Then she shook her head; the time for sentiment had passed and now she had something real, something important, upon which to focus. She walked on.
Her cell, her home for the last eighteen months, was sparsely furnished and few of the things it contained were really hers. Even the robes belonged to the seminary. She dragged out from under the bed the pack she had acquired - stolen - in Esterengel as she had fled the city. Into it she stuffed the few items of clothing she had gathered during her stay at the seminary. She collected her knife from the bedside table and slipped it into her belt under her smock.
She was wearing the plain robes of a cleric, which ought to deter people from speaking to her without real need and might even prove useful if she needed a cover story. Clerics travelled often, even outside the borders of the Empire, so nobody would question her presence if they thought she was on temple business.
Finally, she flipped up the thin mattress and retrieved the small leather pouch hidden between the slats of the rough base. She opened it and tipped the contents into her hand, then stared for a few minutes at the ring that lay there. It was a thick ring - gold, mostly, worked in intricate patterns around a core of iridium and iron - and it was the only thing she had to show for decades of married life, the only possession she had carried with her when she had fled their home two years before.
She remembered the day that Marrinek had given it to her after the weeks he had spent acquiring the materials - long before his rise to fame and fortune - and crafting the ring in secret. Eventually, when she had started to worry that he had lost interest in her, he had presented it to her and asked for her hand. It was only once they were married that he fully explained the charms he had worked into the ring and the lengths he had taken to craft it. He had woven four metals and worked each over many hours to produce a powerful object, one fit for his wife-to-be and tailored to her particular talents. She slipped it back onto her finger, relieved finally to have it restored to its proper place, and tested the charms.
Satisfied, she spent a few minutes stripping the cell of everything that was hers and packing it in her bag. The room she left behind had barely changed; four whitewashed stone walls, a plain bed with simple woollen blankets, a small table and a three-legged stool. There was nothing left to suggest she had ever been there. She looked around the cell one last time, then decided that she would need the blankets more than her colleagues in the seminary. She rolled them quickly and tied them to the bottom of her pack.
She walked away from the cell and from her time as a lecturer without regret. Her life had been on hold for the last two years and now she felt that she was, finally, doing something positive that would again give her life meaning.
She paused briefly at the door that would take her to the stables, wondering if a quick exit might be preferable, but in the end she decided to seek out Lady Drocia again as she had requested, so she passed by the door and headed back to Cardinal Jendryng’s study. Ame was still sitting outside so Aspene knocked on the door and entered. Cardinal Jendryng had returned and was writing at his desk while Lady Drocia sipped at a fresh cup of coffee, back in her armchair by the window.
“Ah, Lady Aspene,” said Cardinal Jendryng, “I see you have packed already,” he nodded at the pack on her shoulder, “and I’d like to thank you for all your help since you arrived here. I think the staff and students will miss you greatly.”
Lady Aspene bowed.
“Thank you, your Eminence. Strange though it may seem, I have enjoyed being here and please accept my thanks for your hospitality. I understand the risks you have taken, and are still taking, by helping me.”
Jendryng bowed his head to her.
“A calculated risk, my lady, and one that I bear happily as thanks for our long friendship.”
Lady Drocia sniffed loudly.
“If you’ve quite finished, the girl has things to do. Let’s move this along.”
Jendryng coughed and looked slightly embarrassed.
“Yes, well. These are for you,” he said, passing over a pair of leather saddle-bags, “a little food for your journey and some other items that may be useful on the road.”
Lady Aspene accepted the bags graciously.
“Thank you, your Eminence.”
She bowed again to Jendryng and to Lady Drocia.
“And thank you, Mother. I will write.”
“Good. Now get along before the day is quite wasted. You should be well west of Esterengel by nightfall. It’s only a matter of time before the Inquisition learns of Marrinek’s escape and then, whatever the Council says, they’ll be looking for you both. There may already be others hunting him, if I know how Lady Camille thinks. There’s a horse waiting for you in the stable yard.”
“Thank you again, Mother, Cardinal.”
Lady Aspene threw the saddle bags over her shoulder and left the room quickly. Ame peered in through the swinging door then pulled it shut, leaving Lady Drocia and Cardinal Jendryng alone in the study.
“Well,” said Lady Drocia, “we’ve done all that we can on that matter.”
She looked at the Cardinal.
“Let’s have a little lunch and talk again about how best to deal with your spies.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
MARRINEK WAITED AT Madame Duval’s back door until one of the servants heard him knocking and let him in. He hurried down the corridor to the study and let himself in but Madame Duval was not there. He swore quietly and stepped back into the hallway, heading for the stairs. At the top of the house he found that the attic room, where he had left the twins the day before, was also empty.
He glanced around the room but nothing appeared to be amiss. He dumped his bag on a bench and rummaged around for his charming tools, then he leant Bone Dancer against the wall, checked that his shock cannon was in his pocket and walked back down the stairs. He was heading for the kitchen when he bumped into Elaine.
“Elaine, morning. Where are the twins and Madame Duval? I’ve been to the attic and the study but there’s no sign of them.”
“Madame Duval has taken Shad and the twins shopping. She said something about new outfits for the twins. I don’t think she was planning to return before noon.”
Marrinek muttered something to himself and dumped his bag down on the floor.
“Sorry, Bay, didn’t catch that. What did you say?”
“Nothing. I asked her to arrange new clothes for the twins I just hadn’t expected her to start so early this morning. Is there any food? It’s been a long morning.”
Elaine looked at him, her head tilted to one side.
“Try the kitchen. They should be baking today’s bread and cakes but if you were expecting something substantial you’ll probably be out of luck.”
“Thanks, I’ll have a look.” He walked the rest of the way down the corridor to the kitchen and pushed open the door. Inside, Cook and a maid were setting out loaves to cool and preparing trays of snacks and finger food for the day’s clients. Marrinek grabbed a loaf and grinned at Cook as she glared at him.
“Thanks,” he said, slipping back out through the door.
Elaine had disappeared so Marrinek headed for the back door, munching on the loaf as he went. He stood at the back door, staring at it for a few minutes, then he took out his charming tools, unrolling the leather case on the floor. He pulled out the largest tool and focussed a little power through it into the door frame, feeling his way around it to check his earlier work. Satisfied, he checked the door itself, hardening further in a few areas, before turning his attention in turn to the lock, the hinges the bar and the surrounding wall.
For two hours he worked, gradually hardening everything he could reach until the door was as secure as he could make it. He stepped back to admire his work; it wouldn’t keep out a talented attack but any casual visitor would find it almost impossible to break down the door.