Carlich shrugged, smoothly assuming again his persona of aggrieved innocence. “We fled, always managing to stay one step ahead of Voerell’s pursuit. As soon as we escaped the city, I set my course here. I knew I’d find allies who would listen to the truth and help me restore the rightful ruler to the throne.”
Vinhor raised an eyebrow at him. “You mean yourself?”
Carlich ducked his head. “Father disinherited me in the false belief that I murdered Marolan. Though I have no proof, I believe that Voerell actively conspired with Dolia to assassinate him, and therefore should have been the one stripped of her position in the succession. But that’s irrelevant now. The Kingship passed to Barilan. I know of no way to transfer the magic to another while Barilan lives. Perhaps you do, Priest Vinhor; I’m sure you’re far more versed in the intricacies of inheritance magic than I am. But if there’s no way to correct the injustice, I’m content to act in my nephew’s behalf. We can remove his mother’s malign influence and appoint some more loyal regent in her place.”
Tennelan rubbed his jaw, deeply troubled. “You’re asking us to commit treason against our lawfully appointed regent by taking your side in this dispute.”
Carlich looked shocked. “Not at all! I’m asking you to act against a traitor who has betrayed her family and country and seized power by murder and trickery. I ask only true loyalty to Milecha. Of course, I would warmly remember all who aided the cause of justice, when the crown is once again safely in honorable hands. King Barilan will need trustworthy men in positions of leadership.” He turned to Vinhor. “I think it highly likely that Prelate Kiellan was a party to the conspiracy. It was he who sealed the Regency to Voerell. At the very least he allowed her to manipulate him. Milecha would be well served by the appointment of a stronger, more dedicated Prelate, who wouldn’t be swayed from the Holy One’s service by political concerns.”
Vinhor nodded slowly, a look of satisfaction mixed with speculation spreading over his features. “I agree, Prince Carlich. I must say, I find your story most convincing. There were certain matters in the regent’s account of events that raised questions in my mind. Questions which you have answered to my full satisfaction. I am tentatively willing to commit myself to your cause. Pending, of course, further investigation on my part into the truth of your statements.”
Maryn’s stomach lurched. It was true, then. Vinhor was going to accept Carlich’s story and support him for his own selfish ends. Under the dampening effects of the spell she despaired. If even the Holy One’s servants were corrupt, what was left she could depend on?
Carlich nodded. “Feel free to do whatever scrying you like. I have nothing to hide. But I doubt you will find other witnesses who will be willing to relate the true course of events. Any besides us who were present and near enough to discern what was happening in the confusion have undoubtedly been dealt with by Voerell already.”
“I will keep that in mind.” Vinhor turned to Tennelan. “What of you and your troops, Captain Tennelan? Without a military component, we will have little hope of overturning Voerell’s coup and restoring the true government.”
For a moment Tennelan looked torn, gazing back and forth between Vinhor and Carlich. Maryn silently urged him to defy them. Her own thoughts grew stronger every time she made the effort to force them into shape. The spell had weakened quickly this time. Only the fact that Carlich had ordered her to notify him privately kept her from saying so aloud.
Tennelan’s face cleared. He rose from his chair and dropped to one knee before Carlich. “I am a simple man, my prince. I have no skill to unravel truth from lies, nor experience in the machinations of the powerful. But I have followed you on the field of battle, and you never led me astray. My sword is yours, and my loyalty, however you choose to direct me.”
Carlich rose and placed both hands on Tennelan’s head. “I accept the great honor of your service. Together we can save our homeland from the storms that beset it.”
Vinhor, too, rose, and signed both of them with a gesture of blessing. “May the grace of the Holy One guide us in all things, and may he bless our endeavor and lead us to victory.”
The words of the prayer fell like stones on Maryn’s heart. They all believed Carlich. If the Holy One himself blessed Carlich’s cause, his triumph was truly inevitable. Her one small voice crying warning would go unheard. His forces would march inexorably forward, and Maryn would be trampled beneath their feet.
Carlich bowed his head. For a moment all were silent. Then Carlich sank back into his seat, rubbing at his brow. “Forgive me. My journey has been long and wearying, and I have been forced to expend much blood along the way. If I might ask you for a place to rest, and accommodations for King Barilan and his nurse, as well…”
“Of course.” Vinhor rose and went to the wall where a tasseled cord hung. He pulled it, and Maryn heard a distant chime. Within moments servants appeared, and at Vinhor’s low;-;voiced directions hustled Carlich, Maryn and Barilan off.
Fourteen
The servants led Maryn and Carlich to the church’s guesthouse. Maryn had often seen richly dressed people entering and leaving the long low building, but she’d never expected to go inside herself. The lavishly appointed rooms usually housed travelers of sufficient wealth to make generous donations to the Holy One in return for lodging, or of sufficient importance that Priest Vinhor wished to impress them and win their favor. Maryn supposed Carlich and Barilan fell into the latter category. She was just glad to see a wide bed with a deep feather mattress and velvet curtains, and a hearth where the servants kindled a cheerful fire.
Carlich hovered, inquiring whether she had all she needed for Barilan’s care and comfort. Maryn felt the urge to tell him his spell was weakening, but as long as the servants were present it was not truly “private,” and she could remain silent. Before Carlich could contrive a reason to send them all away that wouldn’t seem suspicious, a messenger arrived inviting him to dine with Priest Vinhor in his private chambers. Carlich scowled at Maryn, but she ducked her head subserviently. Apparently concluding the magic remained strong enough, Carlich bid Barilan farewell and left.
Once Barilan was clean and dry, Maryn settled with him in a comfortable upholstered chair. It was such a relief to have a few quiet moments to focus on her charge. Amid the chaos and terror of the past few days there had been no chance for her to simply relax and cuddle him, let alone conduct any “playful interaction” sessions. Although looking back on their journey, Maryn considered it quite an accomplishment that she’d managed to keep him clean and warm and fed the whole time. Even Madam Semprell couldn’t fault her for neglecting some of her less urgent duties.
Barilan didn’t seem to have suffered for the lack. He always enjoyed the opportunity to see new places and people, if he could observe them from the secure refuge of Maryn’s arms. He’d probably considered their whole ordeal a grand adventure.
Barilan gave Maryn a wide toothless grin as he stood in her lap, her hands supporting him under the arms. His feet pushed against her thighs, until abruptly his knees buckled and he sagged. She scrunched up her nose and stuck her tongue out at him, and was rewarded by a peal of laughter. For a while she continued to make faces, his delighted responses driving her to more and more extravagant silliness. When Barilan tired of that and looked away, Maryn laid him down in her lap and covered her face with her hands, peeping around to let him catch glimpses of her eyes. He stared in fascination each time she disappeared and reappeared, as if she were performing magic as wondrous as anything Carlich could conjure.
Barilan’s happiness was so infectious that Maryn was able to lose herself for long moments in the pleasure of their games. She lifted him high over her head, his back arched and limbs extended as if he wanted to take flight, then lowered him to eye level and touched their noses together.
Only when the door opened and a servant entered, bearing a laden plate and full goblet, did reality return to the forefront of Maryn’s thoughts. Nothing had changed;
their situation was just as bleak and hopeless as before. Yet her heart was eased, and hope, irrational as it undoubtedly was, replaced her despair. Somehow she would find a way to save herself and Barilan from Carlich’s schemes.
The plate bore a generous serving of roast duck and summer vegetables swathed in a rich sauce. Maryn devoured every bite, though her stomach protested the excess. As she finished, the servant girl returned with a delicate confection of flaky pastry layered with fruit and cream.
“Oh, no,” Maryn protested, catching Barilan’s hand to keep him from grabbing the plate the girl set before her. “Thank you, it looks delicious, but it’s too much.”
“We must feed you well, so that your milk may be rich and sweet to nourish our king.” The servant gazed at Barilan in wonder. “To think I can say I’ve served the king! My friends will never believe it. You’re so lucky to have the honor of nursing him. Everyone’s talking about how brave Prince Carlich was to rescue him. Was it exciting, escaping?”
The girl was so eager to listen. Maryn ached to confess the whole truth to her, but the spell was still too strong. She could only shake her head ruefully. “Frightening. I was terrified the whole time.”
The servant squeaked in delicious horror. “Did you really think the princess was going to kill you all?”
The spell bound Maryn’s tongue. She pushed against it with all her might, but it didn’t yield. Maryn finally gave up. “I guess. Please, is there a garderobe I might use? I’m so tired.”
The servant girl looked disappointed, but she nodded. “Come with me.”
Maryn hoisted Barilan to her hip and followed the servant as she pushed through the door. Two guards stood outside. Seeing Maryn, one of them cleared his throat apologetically. “Excuse me, miss, but Captain Tennelan asks that you stay in your room. For your own safety and that of the king, of course.”
“Of course,” Maryn echoed. For a moment she’d almost forgotten she was still a prisoner. Carlich wasn’t taking any chance she might escape.
The servant girl frowned, looking back and forth from the guard to Maryn. “But she just needs to use the garderobe. I’ll bring her back in a moment.”
“I’m sorry. We have our orders.” Neither guard moved, but Maryn was sure they would be quick to stop her if she tried to pass.
“It’s all right,” she hastened to reassure the disgruntled servant. “I’ll just use the chamberpot.”
“It’s under the bed. I’ll come back later and empty it for you.” She scowled at the guard, though whether it was for the disregard for Maryn or the increased workload, Maryn wasn’t sure. “Don’t worry. I’ll see you have everything you need.”
“Thank you.” Maryn watched as she headed off. Neither guard would meet her eyes, instead staring straight ahead. Maryn retreated into her room and shut the door.
She made ready and climbed into bed, snuggling Barilan close. He nursed eagerly and soon fell asleep. But even tired as she was, Maryn’s thoughts kept her awake for a long time. Her imagination spun a thousand strategies she might employ either to escape or to get word of Carlich’s true guilt to someone who could make use of the knowledge. But each scenario came up short against the reality of the compulsion spell. It imprisoned her far more surely than all the guards Carlich could post. Unless she could find some way to defeat it, any attempt would be doomed to failure.
She woke with a start. The light coming through the diamond panes of the window was the pale grey of dawn. Barilan still slept; she crept from the bed without disturbing him. There was something she had to do; she felt the need as a dragging sensation in her gut. She couldn’t think what could be so urgent, but she fumbled at the laces on her bodice in her haste to do them up, and kicked at her skirts in an outpouring of frustration when they twisted around her legs. She finally got them untangled and rushed to the door.
She jerked it open. Two guards stood at attention, different ones than the night before. Startled, they both turned to her.
“Please,” she blurted. “I must speak to Prince Carlich. He ordered me to come to him right away.” She panted, fighting to contain the desperate compulsion to push past the guards and go in search of Carlich. He’d told her she must seek him out as soon as she felt his spell begin to weaken.
She realized with a wild burst of hope that indeed, the spell was very weak. Over the hours while she slept its power had waned, until now she felt sure she could find a way to defy it. But before she could formulate a plan, one of the guards nodded at her. “I’m sorry, miss, we can’t let you leave your room. I’ll go tell his Highness you wish to speak to him.”
If only she’d managed to figure out what was going on soon enough to hold her tongue! Now it was only a matter of minutes before Carlich arrived to renew the spell. The other guard remained at his station. What could she say to him quickly enough?
She tried hard to speak. She wanted to say, “Prince Carlich is lying. He murdered Prince Marolan, and tried to kill Princess Voerell. I saw him.” But the spell was still too strong to allow her to be so direct. She searched her mind for words oblique enough to say despite the remnants of the spell that would still catch the guard’s attention.
The guard peered at her. She must look odd, standing there struggling to speak. He was a pudgy young man with a round face and pale blue eyes framed by nearly invisible blond lashes. Something about him struck her as familiar. Surprised out of her train of thought, she looked more closely at him, trying to remember.
“I know you.” It was easy enough now to speak, as long as it wasn’t in direct defiance of Carlich. “Weren’t you the one who escorted us when we went to…to my house, that burned.” She swallowed, her thoughts shying away from the horror of that day. But the sympathetic young soldier had helped her, his compassion the one of the few spots of goodness in that miserable time. “The one who kept throwing up. Teor…Tioch…”
“Tior,” he supplied. He shuddered, a look of dismay passing over his features. “I remember. You were the last one I took in, before I could finally get away from the bodies, and the ashes, and the stench…Oh, Holy One, you were the one with the baby.” He turned away, pale, struggling to swallow.
“Yes.” Maryn’s voice shook, but she found she could face the memory. Her current need overshadowed her past grief. “After that I went to Loempno, and was chosen to nurse Prince Barilan. That’s why I’m here.”
He turned back, face full of sympathy. “I’m so sorry you had to get caught up in this mess, after all you’ve been through.”
Maryn shook her head, impatient. “That’s not important right now. But please, can you help me? I need…I need…” Try as she might, however, she couldn’t force any indictment of Carlich past her lips, even to this friendly listener.
“What is it? I’d be happy to get you whatever you want, after my watch is over. I’m sure the Captain won’t mind. Is there someone I could tell you’re here? Your family, maybe? Or that woman who was with you, I think she was your friend?”
Maryn seized on his suggestion. Siwell could help her. She knew about blood magic. Midwives were Healers, and healing was a branch of sorcery. Maybe she could find some way to free Maryn from Carlich’s compulsion. “Yes! Please! Her name is Siwell Narila, she’s a midwife. She lives in the north quarter of town. Tell her Maryn is here, I have to speak with her. But you can’t let P—Pr—anyone know. Can you bring her to me secretly, sometime when you’re on guard?”
Tior’s brow creased. “I don’t know. I mean, of course I’ll tell her you’re here and want to speak with her, but I don’t think I can bring her here. That’s against my orders; I’d get in big trouble.”
“Please! You have to! You’re the only one who can help me! It’s important, you don’t know—” Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Maryn jerked around to see the other guard lead Carlich around a corner and down the long hall toward her door. Her voice nearly froze, but her need was so urgent she overrode the spell’s force. “They’re coming! Don’t let anyone k
now you spoke with me! Especially not the Pri—Prin—” She gave him one last, frightened look before ducking back inside her room and shoving the door closed.
She snatched Barilan from the bed and rushed over to the low dresser she’d set up as a place to change his diapers. He squalled in protest at the abrupt waking and kicked mightily, but she had the drenched cloth off him and a fresh one in position before the door opened.
Carlich strode in and murmured a brief word to the guards before shutting the door. She greeted him with a carefully formal nod as her hands stayed busy with Barilan’s diaper. “Good morning, my lord. I sent for you as soon as I woke, because I felt your spell weakening.”
“Well done,” he said magnanimously. “We’ll take care of that right away, as soon as you’re finished. And you have my permission to call me ‘your Highness’ from now on.”
“Yes, your Highness.”
Maryn finished with Barilan’s diaper and hoisted him to her hip. Her feet dragged as she approached Carlich. With great reluctance she extended the arm that hurt less. They were both swollen and tender, but none of the cuts had bled further, and they all seemed to be healing cleanly without festering. Still, she grimaced and suppressed a gasp when Carlich took her hand and pushed up the sleeve of her shift.
He frowned. “Someone’s going to notice those if we’re not careful. Here, I’ll be nice to you and use my own blood today; I’m sufficiently recovered.” Maryn blinked back tears of relief as Carlich set his knife to his arm and blood gushed forth. The spell was quickly accomplished, and she fell into the familiar dull thoughtlessness.
Carlich pulled his sleeve down. “Stay in your room today unless I summon you. The servants will bring you all you require. Don’t speak with anyone beyond a few pleasantries if they should press you. Don’t give anyone the slightest reason to suspect you’re concealing anything. And remember to notify me when the spell weakens.”
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