by Ashley Capes
“All true,” the Lord Protector said. “In fact –” He stopped, and spun for the ladder.
“What is it?” Giovan cried.
“She’s returned.”
“Where?”
“The palace!”
35. Notch
Notch left the final meeting that had been scheduled before his dinner arrangements with Lady Casselli in an odd mix of frustration and exhaustion; one emotion gave him an energy that he tried to burn off by striding along the marble floors, with Alosus nearly pounding along after him. The other feeling – the emptiness of exhaustion, had his mind foggy; it took him several corridors to realise Alosus was asking him to slow down.
He did so with a sigh. “Sorry. I’m getting fed up and I’m tired. And I’m feeling foolish too.”
“Foolish?” Alosus frowned. “You handled yourself quite well with the various lords and ladies, save for the minor embarrassment with Balios. You weren’t to know his father died in a brothel.”
Notch had to laugh. “No, not that. I mean last night, when I vowed we’d be standing before the Library of Souls by now.”
“You aren’t so far from that. Lady Casselli will arrange it, I’m sure. If not, things went well with Prince Ren. We should not rule out Tanere either.”
“Maybe you’re right and maybe we can smuggle Ren out. I should be thankful; I’m a lot closer than you to your goal, it seems.” He paused. “Can I ask you something, Alosus?”
“Of course.”
“How do you stay so calm? I mean, your wife and child...”
“Because I know the slave trade, Notch. Slaves – especially Tonitora – are prized possessions. Very, very valuable. When Yolanda and Mane were re-sold it would have been to a noble or wealthy family. Even if they are halfway across the nation, they are alive.”
Notch nodded slowly. “That I understand... but you must have doubts. Impatience to find them at least?”
“I do. But those doubts and fears are simply deep within, where they have stayed since Vinezi separated us.”
“Well, I hope you know I’m impatient on your behalf too. I mean what I say. I will help you. For as long as it takes, I will help you. For all you’ve done for me, I owe you at least that.”
“You have already pledged as much, Notch.”
“I thought I should say it again.”
Alosus put a large hand on Notch’s shoulder. “Then thank you.”
In their rooms Notch collapsed into the nearest chair and closed his eyes. A thousand names tumbled through his mind; this lord, this lady, married to this one, pursuing that one, offers of allegiance, bribes for trade concessions – couched in the most flowery language of course – snide comments about other Houses and the full range of human response to the king’s ailing health, from sympathy to outright glee and disdain.
How many of them would he recall tomorrow?
“Notch, we must prepare for the evening meal,” Alosus said.
“Right.” Notch pushed himself from the chair with a groan of effort, then found the nearest basin. He splashed water on his face and took a stray lock of hair, pulling it back into the tail. The shadow of a new beard was coming in, but he couldn’t force himself to shave. Lady Casselli would have to make do with an unshaven dinner guest. He did, however, re-apply the cedarwood perfume again. They’d expect it of course, and while the scent wasn’t offensive it was hardly necessary. What need did a soldier have of such foppish trappings?
Before he left, he checked on the additional wrappings he’d taken to using in order to conceal the bracers. It would have been easier to simply lock them in his rooms, since they didn’t seem to have any purpose and he could not figure them out, but that was too great a risk. They were safer on his arms.
Lady Casselli met them in another expensive gown – this one of a fierce yellow that contrasted wonderfully with her tanned skin. “Please, gentlemen, join me in the dining room – our meals are nearly ready. I imagine you are both famished after a day of talk.”
“Very much so, Lady,” Notch said as Alosus rumbled his own thanks.
The dining area was typical of the palace rooms he’d seen ‒ spacious, lined with paintings, rosewood chairs and marble-topped tables set with crystal ware and silver cutlery, and lit by the strange crystal domes that Alosus had explained were powered by stored sunlight. More magic courtesy of the bone charms that seemed so much more woven into Ecsoli life than in Anaskar.
No wonder they’d been running out of bone.
Casselli’s crystals were set with pink quartz and cast the room in a softer light, offering a faint tint to everything.
A servant stepped forward, a tray of drinks in his hands. Mostly wine, but one mug appeared to offer ale. “Sit, please,” Casselli said.
Notch chose a seat and Lady Casselli arranged herself beside him, with Alosus on her other side, taking the larger, Tonitora-sized chair. “I am looking forward to more stories about your home, Medoro,” she said. “But after we eat, of course.”
The first course of swordfish quickly blurred into a second and then the third course, not long after which a servant appeared. “Forgive the interruption, but Inquisitor Quintun wishes to speak with Tonitora Alosus.”
“Is something wrong?” Notch asked.
“He did not say, sir.”
Alosus stood. “It will no doubt be about my status; it is nothing to fear.”
“Why at this time?” Notch asked. “I don’t like this, Alosus.”
He smiled. “It is their way; to appear when least expected.”
Lady Casselli placed a hand on his arm. “In Ecsoli, when a slave’s master dies he or she usually becomes possession of a family member. With Vinezi Mare dead, Alosus must be re-assigned, possibly to Prince Tanere or one of his uncles.”
“Worry not,” Alosus said, laying some emphasis on the words. “There is some advantage to this and it is not unexpected, as we discussed.”
“I still don’t trust them.” Lady Casselli remained silent as Notch stood. “Let me come with you.”
“It is not permitted. But we will speak after.” He switched to modern Anaskari. “Remain on guard here, Notch – be careful what you agree to while I am gone.”
“I will,” Notch replied. “And you be wary yourself.”
Alosus thanked their hostess and followed the servant from the room. Notch only sat when the big man was gone. He took another drink, setting the mug down a little harder than he’d intended.
“A brooding look suits you, Captain,” Lady Casselli said. She glanced to the remaining servants, who started clearing away the plates.
“You are generous, My Lady.”
She shifted closer and he caught the cool scent of mint leaves. Something predatory had slipped back into her gaze.
“Tell me, Lady Casselli – are we free to converse here?”
“Free?”
“From prying ears.”
“Ah.” She smiled, then patted the table. “Beneath the marble is a charm to stop our words leaving my rooms. Do not fear; speak what is on your mind.”
“In all my time here, few have asked my purpose.”
“Go on.”
“I am seeking answers that Alosus believes only the Library of Souls can give. I want permission to ask a question.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Few outside the royal family are given such an honour.”
“You seem well-connected, My Lady.”
“I am.” She trailed her fingertips across the back of his hand and up his arm, a tingling sensation left in her wake. “I suspect we are in a position to help each other, much as I’d hoped.”
He looked her in the eye. “I am a stranger here, what can I do to help someone of your standing?”
She stood, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet, leading him from the room and down a dimly-lit hallway. “First, tell me why you travelled across the seas to ask a question of the Oracle?”
He hesitated, despite the way his pulse was beginning to
quicken. It was one thing to speak of his search with Alosus, in Anaskari, when no-one would know. And even though he had meant to ask Casselli tonight, or at least ask someone of influence soon, it did not seem prudent to say it aloud when there was a chance someone in the palace might seek to use his quest against him somehow.
“The charm’s reach covers us now,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, “and will do so in my bedchamber also.”
Notch stared after her. He had to take a chance; he owed it to Sofia. “I want to ask them about reversing the Sacrifice. Is such a thing given the same name here, in Ecsoli?”
Casselli stopped, turning to face him – some of the warmth gone from her voice. “It is – and that is quite the request; not something you would make for just anyone, I wager. They must have been dear to you, Medoro.”
Notch clenched his jaw. “She was like the daughter I never had.”
“Ah.” Her tone had regained its warmth. “That is a quest I can support.” She continued into the room at the end of the hall, where only a pair of candles glowed yellow – but it was enough to see the large canopy over the bed, the rose silk sheets. She swung the door shut behind him, then stepped close, slipping her arms beneath his tunic to run her hands across his torso.
He shivered in response.
“We can speak of my side of the bargain after,” she said, softly.
He was already breathing hard. Gods, how long had it been? He was on fire, surely? And her hands were a welcome ice, roaming across his skin. Yet Alosus’ warning echoed. Be careful what you agree to.
Notch turned and took her by the shoulders, pulling her body against his own and pressing his lips to hers. “I would know now, My Lady.”
“Would you?”
“Yes.”
She cradled his face with both hands. “Very well. I want a new, better Paradisum. One free of the endless, vicious cycle of one-upmanship.”
“With you at its head?”
“Not at all.” She kissed him again and he returned it; drawing back when her teeth grazed his lip. “I would lead from the shadows, Captain. And you can help me simply by being my escort.”
“Escort?”
“To throw my enemies off the scent,” she said, then pushed him toward the bed. “Enough talk, Medoro of the New World.”
36. Flir
Grav sat slumped in a chair across from them, mouth drooping into a miserable frown, his hair dishevelled. Kanis was still grinning at the man, chewing his fish as he did. Fool was no doubt taking Grav’s appearance as proof that Aren was following them for some sinister purpose.
And maybe it would turn out to be just that.
Flir folded her arms. “Talk.”
“I came here to ask if you would reconsider helping us, dilar,” he said.
“Let me be more specific: tell me why you followed us in secret?”
He swallowed. “I didn’t want to be so underhanded about it, truly. I know it was disrespectful to you and Mishalar... but Aren thought it best. He said he couldn’t afford to waste any time, if I was to convince you he wanted you to be able to leave from Enar and head right to the Lighthouse.”
Dinnav approached the table, his circle-patterned robe swirling. “Apologies for interrupting but the Conclave will see you now.”
Flir stood. “Don’t let him go anywhere,” she told Kanis and Pevin.
“We won’t.”
She followed the servant back to the meeting room, where Wodka alone waited.
“Thank you for returning so swiftly,” he said. “Let me first assure you that I speak for the whole Conclave for the moment.”
“And I am authorised to speak for King Oseto.”
“The Conclave has decided to approve of the exchange – in principal, and of course, everything depends on what you discover. Any other specific details about quantities and training will be held aside at this early stage.”
“Then you’re willing to let us search?”
“More, we will provision you and open the archives to guide you in wherever you choose to begin your search.”
Flir inclined her head. “Thank you. That is most welcome.” Wodka turned to Dinnav, but Flir spoke before he could issue an instruction. “I would like to warn the Conclave also, of a deadly creature that attacked us on the Venach Bridge.”
“Oh?” His expression became one of concern. “Not a Chilava?”
“No. Something I have never seen before.” Flir described the encounter. “I’m not sure how it might be stopped or even if it will return, but additional patrols or warnings wouldn’t hurt.”
“Indeed. Thank you, Flir.” He stood, gesturing to the servant. “Please ask Dinnav for anything you need in your search.”
“Follow me, madame,” Dinnav said. “Your companions will be sent for.”
He led her to a room lit by a cosy fireplace, half a dozen chairs set around a long table which had been stacked with uneven piles of books and scrolls. “You’ll notice each group is ordered by region.”
“Region?”
“Yes. Myths, legends and ‘monster sightings’ from various locations around Renovar.”
Flir had to laugh. “You’re very efficient.”
“Thank you. It’s a matter of pride.” He sketched a bow and left.
Flir took a seat before the nearest pile, grabbed the first book and placed her feet up on the table, leaning back until the chair creaked. The cover suggested it dealt with inland, west of Enar. She stretched for another pile – this one was better, the coast at least. She skimmed the pages. Mermaids, sea serpents and monstrous ice turtles but no Sea Beasts, it seemed.
The door opened and Kanis entered, Grav and Pevin trailing. “What are these for?” Kanis asked.
“Conclave wants us to search,” Flir said. “So I’m looking for reports or legends that might help.”
Pevin was already handling scrolls from one of the other piles. “These look like local histories.”
“Well, see if any of them talk about a Sea Beast or sea god or something similar,” Flir said. “Everyone, take a pile.”
The scuffle of chairs being moved followed, then the regular swish of pages being turned, and after no small amount of time, Kanis’ grumbling. “We aren’t even halfway through this bunch,” he said at one point. “Has anyone found anything?”
Flir slapped her book closed. “Not in the far east.”
“I have something,” Grav said. “It’s just one mention; a frozen lake in the north – the Blackthorn Mountains.”
Kanis tossed his book onto the table. “Where the frost-wights are supposed to live? Sounds like a dead end.”
“Ignore him,” Flir said. “What does it say?”
“Ah, it’s an ice-fisherman’s legend; it says that on a blue moon, a great monster would rise up and break the ice, swallowing any fishermen caught there. They called it the pal-envaic.”
“The deep fear,” Flir said.
“I’m not convinced,” Kanis replied.
Flir shrugged. It was slim.
Pevin patted several books from his pile. “There are recorded sightings from the south east.” He paused. “By the Lighthouse keepers.”
Grav straightened but Flir held up a hand. “Before you tell me we could search for the missing Ice-Priests at the same time, I’m aware of that, Grav. Pevin, what else?”
He reopened the book with the green cover. “Well, it’s said the lighthouse spotted fountains of water shooting into the air much, much larger than any whale... several keepers over the course of... two, no three centuries worth of records. Sightings both day and night, no real pattern... and,” he reached for several scrolls, wincing as he stretched, his ribs no doubt still tender, “these include accounts from villages only a little further north and I’m sure if I kept looking, there would be others.”
“That’s sounding a little better,” Kanis said.
Flir nodded. “If we do go there first, it wouldn’t be hard to speak with locals, to see if it still happen
s.”
Grav was beaming. “We would help as best we could, also, dilar.”
“Pevin?” Flir asked.
“It seems it is worth investigating,” he admitted. “And again, to be utterly selfish once more, I do worry about my little brother.”
Kanis pushed his chair back. “I think that settles it.”
“I agree,” Flir said. “But I don’t want anyone getting their hopes up. There’s a very simple and possible explanation for the sightings off the lighthouse, you know.”
“Such as?” he asked.
Pevin slowed the straightening of his pile of books. “Oh.”
“What?” Kanis asked.
“The Anaskari Sea God,” Pevin replied.
“Exactly,” Flir said. “I’m not saying we won’t investigate the sightings, but I fear we might only be ruling them out.”
“How can we do that?” Kanis asked. “It’s not like you can compare dates and times when the Beast was seen in the harbour at Anaskar with what we have here.”
Flir shrugged. “As I said; we can’t afford to ignore that many sightings. If there’s nothing to it, we look elsewhere.”
“Well, it’s better than sitting around here,” Kanis said. “Ready when you are, I suppose.”
“We just need to make one little stop first,” Flir added.
Kanis frowned. “I hope you don’t mean—”
“I do mean that, Kanis. I mentioned it to the Conclave, but I just can’t leave that creature out there roaming around devouring people.”
“Because we were so effective the last time we tried to stop it.”
“Well, this time will be different.”
37. Flir
Upstream from the old guard post, Flir crouched across from a large opening in the river bank. It had been half-concealed by a makeshift... nest, and the morning sun did not penetrate far into the darkness. But recently overturned earth surrounding the hole was a good sign that something had made its home there not too long ago.