The City Darkens (Raud Grima Book 1)

by Martin, Sophia

  Flinching, Liut wiped the moisture from his eyes and stepped back. Spraki seemed satisfied, however, and he didn’t address Liut directly again.

  “I take it you have what we need?” Kolorma prompted him when he stood for a moment with the expression of one who has lost his train of thought.

  “Yes!” Spraki exclaimed, raising the same finger he’d jabbed Liut with. He darted to one of the thicker standing panels and punched some buttons. A drawer popped out, the ticking of gears sounding as it did. “Have Krigr remove his jacket and shirt.”

  Liut’s eyes darted from Kolorma to Alflétta to me, and Kolorma returned his look with a steady gaze. “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked.

  “Now, Liut, you haven’t decided to go back on our bargain already, have you?” Kolorma purred. With slow grace she approached him, grasping his cravat and untying it. “Because if you have, I will be most put out. I suppose Jarldis Sölbói and I can ask Jarl Alflétta to return us to Liten’s estate, and put off our plans, but of course, that would mean returning you to the accommodations you just left.”

  Liut leaned away from her, looking with panic from me to Alflétta. The latter crossed his arms. “You’d best cooperate, my boy,” Alflétta said in a detached tone. “As I understand it, you’ve no cause to hope for mercy at the hands of either the jöfurdis or the jarldis, and I’ve no interest in aiding you.”

  With a small noise of frustration or perhaps distress, Liut pulled away from Kolorma and began disrobing. In moments he stood naked again from the waist up. His week in captivity had hollowed his frame—had Kolorma fed him at all? A part of me still cared, I realized. That wouldn’t do at all. I looked away, however, focusing on Spraki’s activities.

  Spraki removed what looked like a metal cuff from the drawer and walked over to Liut, snapping it around his left upper arm. He did so without looking at Liut’s face, not, I believed, out of any shame or discomfort at what he was doing, but rather because after his tirade, Spraki had dismissed Liut from his consideration. Instead, he addressed Kolorma.

  “It’s as I described, Jöfurdis,” he said. “I’ve keyed it to link to the robots we’ve altered. The cuff sends what it hears to them, and should Liut decide to betray you or anyone else I’ve listed, they will stop whatever they are about and track him with the sole purpose of executing him.”

  “Palace robots?” I gasped.

  Spraki gave me a nod. I glanced at Liut, who had gone very pale.

  “I cannot hide this thing should someone see me disrobe,” he said, voice high and tight.

  Kolorma raised an eyebrow. “Then you’d best not let anyone see you disrobe,” she said. Thinking of my first coupling with Liut, I decided such an impediment would hardly hinder him anyway. “And if he tries to remove the cuff?” Kolorma asked Spraki.

  “It will inject him with its poison. He should die within five minutes. Ten on the outside.”

  “Perfect,” Kolorma said. “You can dress, Krigr.”

  With jerky movements that spoke of his panic, Liut pulled the shirt back on, fingers fumbling the buttons. We all watched until Alflétta gave a huff of frustration and did up the remainder himself, then tied Liut’s cravat for him. Liut slipped on the jacket, and looked ever the court gentleman again.

  As he did, Kolorma gestured to Alflétta, who raised the case, offering it to Spraki. “Ah,” the latter said, and he took it, disappearing through the door he had first come through. He returned a moment later, carrying a small trunk. He gave it to Alflétta.

  Soon after, we took our leave.

  ~~~

  “I’ve timed our arrival to our best advantage,” was the only warning Kolorma gave as we rode up the mechanical stairs on the west side of the palace. She opened the trunk that Alflétta held up for her and passed out porcelain masks. Mine had glittering silvery crystals, matching the silver lace dress Kolorma had lent me as we readied ourselves for the trip. Two bands of silver gilt trim crossed over the white enameled forehead, enclosing the crystals and four black features arced from the false headband design. Large gray and white pearls clustered at the base of the feathers like eggs. Black ribbon attached to each side would hold the mask to my face.

  Alflétta helped Kolorma on with hers, a half-mask with gold trim and feathers as orange as flames, flashing with orange gems in the inner and outer corners of the eyes. Kolorma tied my mask on me, and a strange thing happened: the night, so dark a moment before, lightened, although the little lamps that illuminated the ramps on either side of the moving staircase seemed no brighter. As I looked around, testing out this surprising change in vision, Alflétta and Liut put on their own plain black silk half masks. No doubt all the men would have similar black masks, and with their slicked hair and black suits, they would be indistinguishable from each other.

  As we reached the top of the moving stairs, we spilled onto one of the great balconies of the palace, directly into a massive soirée, already underway. A robot standing by the stairs gave us each a nod but did not announce us—such a formality would have been at odds with a masked ball, I realized. Sure enough, all the men looked exactly alike, except for girth or height. The women were like exotic birds, most masks being decorated with feathers like the ones Kolorma and I wore. Many women also draped feather boas over their shoulders or carried feathered fans, as well. As they always did, their dresses shimmered in beads, silks, lace, satins, velvets, and the ever-popular lamé fabrics. As we made our way from the stairs into the crowd, I stiffened as another property of the enhanced vision gifted through my mask made itself known—when I came within four feet of another courtier, I saw through the mask each wore. Although the outline of the mask remained upon each face, it was as through the fabric or porcelain became tinted glass.

  Leaning in to Kolorma’s ear, I whispered, “What magic is this, that allows me to see covered faces?”

  She gazed at me through the mask she wore—and I realized it still looked solid. “No magic, Myadar, but science,” she murmured back.

  I wondered if my enhanced sight would penetrate more than thin materials, but walls as well, or at least doors. What uses I could put this science to!

  Kolorma slipped an arm through mine, whispering in my ear. “Tonight’s masks are but prototypes. I’ve set Taf to a challenge, and perhaps he will impress us with the result.”

  I wondered what exactly she meant, but could not ask, for our little party had finally drawn the notice of the crowds. Somehow, they knew us just as we did them, although they possessed no superior technology. With a glance at Kolorma from the corner of my eye, I decided it was her auburn hair that had given us away. Courtiers leaned together, watching us and whispering. Their gestures reminded me of the reactions I’d engendered with my silly old-fashioned ball gown at the coronation, and it annoyed me. When I caught any looking, I gave a polite nod, which sent most into flushed confusion.

  The court was scandalized; by what, our absence? Our surprise return? I knew nothing of Alflétta’s reputation—perhaps that contributed. But no doubt my supposed affair with Liut fueled much of the reaction. I extricated myself from Kolorma’s light grip and slipped my hand behind Liut’s back. After a moment’s hesitation, he encircled my waist with his right arm.

  Not two minutes passed before I felt a jolt and we were violently wrenched apart. Fingers like a vise clenched my bicep and propelled me forward. Overcoming my shock I saw that it was Reister, come from behind, and that he gripped Liut’s arm just as forcefully. It was luck that he’d grabbed Liut’s right arm, and not the left, for he clutched him exactly at the level of Spraki’s cuff.

  “Reister, what are you doing?” I demanded, but I could no more stop the momentum of his progress as he dragged us with him than I could have stopped the automobile we had ridden in to the palace with my bare hands. Rather than fight, I tried to minimize any signs of his force—although it no doubt served our purposes for him to make a scene.

  He thrust us a step ahead of him, into the palace proper
, leaving the chittering courtiers on the immense balcony. A few more steps and we’d reached a corridor with private rooms down it. Reister hauled us into one, released us both, and slammed the door shut behind him. He yanked off his mask, and we both removed ours, as well.

  I somehow had not anticipated the confrontation to come so soon. And yet, now that it was upon me, I knew it had been inevitable. I felt unprepared. For a moment, my mind went blank. I did not know what to say to Reister; his rage had always terrified me, and now was no exception. Awareness of the importance of this interview thrummed in my veins, but the anxiety it raised did nothing to help me think.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Reister barked.

  Looking pale and unhappy, Liut rubbed his arm where Reister had grabbed him. “Gods, man, you’ve the strength of a robot,” he said with a sulk.

  Reister’s dark blue eyes snapped with fury as he regarded Liut. “What is the meaning of this—this stunt?” he demanded.

  I had to keep calm. No sense betraying more information than necessary. Reister might yet believe me tricked, still. Why lose any modicum of advantage I had?

  I raised my chin and crossed my arms. “Reister, Liut and I are in love.”

  Red spots appeared in Reister’s cheeks, a warning sign of imminent violence. The sneer on his face told me he knew I was lying, but Liut took up my cue and forged on. “It’s true, Reister—I sensed that Myadar was so unhappy here at court, and I wanted to prove my love for her, so I thought, what better way than with a holiday abroad—”

  The blow that had no doubt been intended for my cheek a moment before struck Liut’s instead. I was beginning to pity my old lover; his fortunes certainly had turned against him. I used that to power my next statement: “Reister! You’ve no right to beat poor Liut! For shame!”

  “For shame?” Reister exploded. “My wife disappears for a week, returns to publicly humiliate me at a palace ball, and then lies to my face about it, and my act is a shame? I warned you, Myadar. I told you to forget any will but my own. You shall die for this. I shall see you dead and I shall remarry and my new wife will know her place.”

  “Very well,” I said. “How will I die? By your hands, I suppose?”

  Reister glared at me but made no response. How much did he know?

  “No,” I said, giving my head a little shake. “You like to hit. To hurt. But kill? Too messy. You’ve no doubt got some other plan.” I tilted my face to eye him coldly. “Did you think to turn me over to the Officers of Tyr? Perhaps as a heretic?”

  “Too slow,” Liut said in a low voice. “He can’t be sure they’ll kill you, either. They might just send you to a work camp, and then he can’t remarry.”

  “Since when have you given up your manipulations for honesty, Krigr?” Reister snapped.

  Liut merely shrugged, dabbing at his newly bleeding lip with his white silk pocket square.

  I gazed at Reister, deciding to wait and see what he would tell me of his plans. Did he know about Raud Gríma? Did he suspect?

  “I don’t have to kill you myself,” he growled at me. “I can just tell the konunger of your treachery. Dressing up like an old folk hero to brutalize and rob poor young courtiers and destroy city property, Myadar—how graceless of you.”

  Well, there it was. No sense withholding anything now.

  “Don’t be an idiot, Reister,” I said.

  His eyes widened and his eyebrows shot up. The skin of his face paled even as the spots in his cheeks darkened. I could see him reconsidering his stance on killing me himself, so I hurried on.

  “Killing me or betraying me to the konunger will do you no good of any kind,” I said. “You’ve nothing to gain, and everything to lose.”

  Reister snorted, but his eyes narrowed again, and he gave me a calculating look.

  “I could just tell the konunger about the warehouse, you know,” I said.

  Liut, who was leaning against the wall, straightened a bit at this. His eyes darted from me to Reister. Had he known about Reister’s shipment? Somehow, I thought not.

  “The warehouse,” Reister echoed. He did not look disturbed, only cautious.

  “Yes,” I said with a quick nod, eyebrows arched. I hugged my arms to myself. “The one full of contraband wine—Sölbói wine, if I’m not mistaken.”

  When I pronounced the family name, the red spots in Reister’s cheeks began to fade.

  “Your word against mine,” he said tightly. “And you are nothing but a disgraced wife, unworthy of attention. Did you know that women have lost the right to testify under Tyr’s Law, Myadar?”

  I grimaced and shrugged one shoulder. “You’re right. The legal angle is so crude. Perhaps, instead, I should just speak to Eiflar-Konunger about your true appetites, Reister. These are things only a wife—even a recently disgraced one—would know, after all. He’s sure to believe me; after all, he had suspicions of his own, did he not?”

  Reister lunged and his palm hit my throat. I gagged as he slammed my back against one wall. “What’s to stop me from killing you right here, right now?”

  Struggling, I clawed at the hand that cut off my air. With an effort, I snatched the ragged ends of my mind’s reins, panicked as I was by the inability to breathe. I held up two fingers.

  Reister’s grip loosened, but only slightly. It was, however, enough.

  “There are two reasons,” I forced out.

  He loosened his hand some more.

  “One,” I said. My index finger remained pointing upwards as I bent the other down. “I am not without allies now, Reister. Should you murder me here and now, you would still fail to protect your secrets.”

  His upper lip curled in a snarl, but otherwise he remained frozen.

  “And two,” I continued, raising the finger I had lowered and attempting to achieve a level of irony in my tone, “you would be passing up an opportunity to achieve the ends you dreamt of when you hoped to have yonder lothario educate me in the bedroom arts in the first place.”

  Reister’s brow knit, his eyes full of confusion. After a pause, he abruptly released me, stepping back.

  I filled my lungs with air, leaning forward with one hand resting on the muscle above my knee. When my spinning head began to settle and I felt more myself again, I straightened, and looked him in the eyes.

  Reister stared at me as if seeing me for the first time. He squared his shoulders. “What did you have in mind?”

  I would not be so easily baited—who knew what ears these walls had. It was risk enough to speak of small plots and intrigues, alluding to crimes without overtly naming them. Declaring an intent towards regicide would not slip by unnoticed.

  Rather than answer his question, I said, “I think you know.”

  Reister’s eyes assessed me sharply. I could see him calculating, evaluating, trying to measure—did I mean what he thought I meant? Was I under the impression that he had hoped to make me the konunger’s mistress for simple political gain, or had I truly guessed his deeper plan?

  Emboldened by my survival, I stepped in close to him, bringing my lips to his ear. “I may have only married into this family, Reister, but I know its law. No one crosses a Sölbói and lives to reap the benefits of their betrayal.”

  With that, I left the room, returning the mask to my face and tying the ribbons myself.

  ~~~

  Liut soon reappeared at my side—I wondered how the conversation between him and Reister had played out after my exit, but didn’t bother to ask. Liut’s tongue was as forked as the Serpent’s, and he would give me no truthful account. Together we greeted many jarls and jarldises—some who openly remarked on Liut’s swollen lip, visible under his black half-mask. We sidestepped such inquiries with purposeful lack of grace; soon the story of Reister’s fierce confrontation of us at our return spread through the soirée like an inferno. If any stories still circulated about the mysterious Raud Gríma, our scandal eclipsed them like a conflagration eclipses a guttering lantern.

  The konunger a
nd konungdis, socializing as they always did in palace parties, became just as consumed with the fire of our story. I saw them making their way towards us like a dragon burning a path through a forest. Leika-Konungdis wore a knee-length, billowing gown of purple velvet trimmed with amethysts and black pearls. Her mask, which from afar I could not see through, was, like mine, made of porcelain, covering her whole face. An elaborate design swirled over the eyes, and glittering purple gems encrusted in it caught the light. Folds of shimmering fabric created a halo around her, and gilded edging connected the folds to the porcelain. Eiflar-Konunger wore a matching tuxedo of deep purple silk, with a simple purple mask. As they came within two feet the masks wavered and cleared, and I could see their faces clearly.

  Liut and I bowed our heads in obeisance.

  “Jarl Krigr. Jarldis Sölbói,” Eiflar-Konunger said to each of us. Would he censure us for the open display of our affair? Would the tenets of Tyr forbid such impudence? My reading of the book had hardly prepared me for this eventuality—I knew that Galmr’s visions had cast wives as the possessions of husbands, so no doubt my actions were a crime against Reister, and perhaps so were Liut’s. However, I recalled that the book had declared the virility of all men to be divine, and without strictures—men could pursue their virile desires (the natural ones, of course, not those Galmr had deemed unnatural such as Reister’s or Alflétta’s) no matter the cost, without reprisals. So surely, then, Liut’s actions would have to be forgiven. However, no one had so openly stolen another man’s wife before. No doubt if anyone was to be punished for it, it would be me, in this new order.

  We raised our heads at the konunger’s acknowledgment, and I braced myself.

  “It displeases me to see a loyal jarl of my court so openly insulted,” Eiflar said. I lowered my gaze to convey how abashed I was. “You will cease this… flaunting, immediately.”

  “Your will, Majesty,” Liut murmured.

  When I risked a glance up, I saw that the konungdis’s eyes devoured me, and a shock passed through me. Leika-Konungdis, a lover of women? “Is it true,” she asked, “what is said?”