The City Darkens (Raud Grima Book 1)

by Martin, Sophia

  “What is it?” I asked. “Kolorma…?”

  Liten shook his head firmly. “Kolorma is fine, although I need to see her, to tell her what happened.”

  “What happened?” I echoed him, looking at each man in turn. Madr’s expression wasn’t as concerned as the other two. Whatever it was, he didn’t know how it would affect me. They must. It was something that was going to upset me, I could see. I felt my heart rate accelerate and I searched their faces. “Tell me what happened!”

  “It’s Liut,” Spraki said.

  “Liut?” I repeated, feeling stupid. Did he know I had just met with Liut?

  “Myadar, I’m so sorry,” Liten said. “I know your relationship with him was… complicated, but…”

  “Was?” I snatched the word from his remark.

  Spraki sighed and touched some buttons beneath the screen nearest him. The image flickered, and then cleared. It was the room I’d just met Liut in, and Liut stood in the center of it just as I’d left him, hands hanging at his sides in defeat.

  “What is this?” I breathed.

  The view was from above, as if I was looking down through a hole in the corner of the room. As I watched, Liut raised his face, closing his eyes, as if caught in a wave of despair. My heart clenched, but anger flared, too. Why were they showing me this?

  The door to the room opened, and uniformed Officers flooded in: perhaps half a dozen. The screen showed images but there was no sound, and it was strange to watch the scene unfold. The Officers grabbed Liut’s arms but he struggled.

  “She doesn’t need to see it!” Liten said, but I held up a hand to stop Spraki from reaching for the buttons.

  One of the Officers raised a narrow club and brought it down hard against Liut’s head. Liut stumbled forward into the group, but when he came back up he had one of their guns in his hands. The muzzle flashed and an Officer collapsed, but then two more pulled guns and as Liut turned his weapon towards them, bright flares erupted from the barrels, and it was Liut’s turn to crumple.

  My breath caught in my throat, and I reached for the screen, brushing it. A strange prickling touched my fingertips.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, although perhaps I did. “How could you know what would happen?” My hand spread over the screen. “I just met with him—why did he stay in the room for so long?”

  “This scene took place over an hour ago, Jarldis,” Spraki said.

  “An hour ago? I don’t understand,” I said again, my mind full of confusion and grief. My eyes searched the screen for answers but found none. “He only wanted to warn me.” I pulled my hand away from the screen. “He said Reister was going to betray me—but why didn’t he leave?”

  “He might have gone, if he’d had the chance, Jarldis,” Spraki said, leaning towards me. “What you saw was a recording of what happened just after your meeting. The device that allows us to see into the rooms—”

  My head swam and his words faded away. Liut. I had just seen six Officers of Tyr murder Liut. By the Gods. How could it be real?

  “Catch her, she’s fainting!” someone barked, and I felt arms supporting my back as my body sagged. How ridiculous, my mind argued, I never faint. But even as the thought formed I saw Liut’s body sagging in the crypt on Liten’s estate. I saw them put the cuff on his arm. We trapped him, all of us. We sent him to this death—but no. I knew better than that. Only one person could be held responsible, and that was me. He’d called me to that room. He’d done it to warn me. Whoever was listening sent the Officers to arrest him. Reister, no doubt.

  Reister set Liut to the task of seducing me, had set everything in motion that led to Liut’s murder. If anyone was responsible for Liut’s death, it was Reister. What had I done, but try to survive this wretched city and its corruption? And who was responsible for bringing me here?

  “Reister,” I moaned, and my eyes fluttered open.

  The ceiling above me was curved and white. I turned my face. This room was unfamiliar. Tables with sinks. Glass vases shaped like gourds, suspended over metal candles, bubbling with colored liquids. I tried to sit up but a firm hand pushed me back down.

  “Just take a moment or two, Myadar,” said Liten.

  “Where am I?” I murmured.

  “The laboratory—it’s where I make my concoctions, and Dihauti altered the robots that serve as some of our spies.”

  Nausea swept over me. “I need a bowl,” I choked out, and after a scuffle, Liten held a silver basin next to me. I rolled to my side and was sick.

  “If you gentlemen wouldn’t mind waiting outside, I think the jarldis would appreciate the privacy,” Liten said to the others. I didn’t know where they were.

  I lay back. I knew I must be on a table like the ones I’d seen around me, except I didn’t think there was a sink in it, unless it was beyond my feet. I blinked up at the rounded ceiling. Still in the machine, I surmised. This was the room beyond the high wall.

  “Myadar,” Liten said after a door closed somewhere beyond where my head lay, “are you feeling very unwell still?”

  I took in a deep breath and released it, testing the sensations in my head and body. A wave of queasiness responded. “I do feel very ill,” I said. “But I don’t think I’ll faint again.” I paused and closed my eyes, but that made the nausea worse, so I opened them again and looked up at the rounded, white ceiling. “I never faint,” I said, though I’d just given strong evidence to the contrary.

  “You had a terrible shock,” Liten said.

  “Liut,” I said, and my throat closed as the word left my mouth. Tears welled up in my eyes and I wiped them roughly away, feeling the cold of the table seep through the fabric at my back. “Gods, I never would have thought I’d mourn him.”

  “In his way, he did try to help you. Just at the end.”

  “Yes,” I agreed, my throat tightening again. “I think he really did feel remorse.”

  Neither of us said anything for a little while, as I tried to steady my breathing and release the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm me. I would not waste tears on Liut, I told myself, not after the way he lied to me and betrayed me. But somehow, my heart wasn’t listening, and all I could see in my mind’s eye was his pleading face.

  The silence went on for perhaps ten minutes, which I broke only with sniffles until I managed to calm myself at last.

  Liten brought a damp towel to me and I took it, still lying down, for the nausea did not abate and I feared what sitting up would do. I pressed the cool towel to my face, which was hot from weeping.

  “I have a question,” Liten said. “It’s a bit… delicate. I hope you’ll forgive me.”

  I lifted the towel and tilted my face a bit to look at him. His wavy brown hair, parted in the middle, gave his face an angelic quality, although the curling mustache worked against it. His face was lined, and his eyes sad. He sat on a stool by my right side.

  “Your… menses. When was the last time… you bled?” he asked.

  Shocked, I looked away. What a question! And from a man, and one I hardly knew—but now that I thought of it…

  How long had it been?

  Not since before I returned to Helésey. Not while I was recovering in Liten’s estate. Had I ever bled in Helésey? I could not remember having to cope with it since Söllund. That was more than three months ago—four? My cycle was long, and since Bersi’s birth, somewhat irregular, but four months…

  I raised my hands and pressed my fingers to my eyes. “Frigga preserve me,” I whispered.

  I was with child.

  Part 6: Myadar’s Revolution

  “How did you guess?” I asked Liten as he sat quietly on the stool next to the table on which I lay, waiting for me to process the realization that I was expecting a child.

  “A number of factors,” Liten said. “I evaluated the likelihood that a woman who had spent many years alone, who now took lovers, would think of precautions against pregnancy. Then I considered if the woman took two lovers, one of whom was the k
onunger—what was the likelihood of this woman requiring the royal lover to use some form of contraception? And then you fainted, which I must say, is out of the ordinary for you. You are unusually physically fit, Myadar, due, no doubt, to your years in Söllund—rumor has it you worked the land…?”

  I looked at him without response.

  He continued, “And you’ve shown time and again that you aren’t easily upset or flustered. Certainly, I have seen you injured, and when Kolorma and I rescued you that night, you’d hit your head and lost consciousness. But that is not the same as fainting. It seemed likely that you were… more than simply exhausted and overwrought.”

  I released a shuddering breath. What in the name of all the Gods was I going to do now? My mind raced, trying to decide if there was any advantage to be had. But I could think of none. Nothing indicated whether the child was Liut’s or Eiflar’s. If it was the konunger’s, that would only put me in greater danger. I doubted Leika appreciated my continued presence in her husband’s bed chamber—let her learn that I might carry his illegitimate child and I would be marked for death.

  And would Eiflar even want his bastard? I did not know what Galmr had to say on the subject. What would the Law of Tyr dictate when it came to bastard children of konungers?

  My mind returned to Leika. If she already had a child of her own, she might not see mine as a threat, but she had yet to conceive, and she must be even more worried than Eiflar that she might be barren. Every instinct in my heart told me that she would hate me and my unborn child if she learned of it. She would fear being cast aside.

  I did not want that. Were Eiflar to repudiate Leika and raise me up as konungdis, what advantage would I gain? A life of glittering emptiness. Would they return Bersi to me? Would they let me keep this new baby? My mouth twisted, bitter. Never. They would keep my son from me forever, and take my baby from me, as well. The world of the court was void of love and loyalty. They knew nothing of natural affection or the bond between parent and child.

  Then again, for all I knew the baby was Liut’s. I supposed I might have some idea, once it was born—if it resembled the man who fathered it. Child of a dissolute traitor, or child of a twisted, hate-driven ruler. What a cursed life it would have.

  Liten rose quietly and left me alone in the laboratory. I could not find the will to push myself off of the table where I lay. A wave of despair swept through me, and I tried to make sense of it. All I could think was that this pregnancy changed everything.

  There were ways, of course, to end pregnancies—the wise women of the village near my estate in Söllund would have been able to advise me, just as the vigjadises of Frigga might have, as well. But at the thought of ending it, my heart throbbed with pain. They had already torn one child from me. I could not bear to lose another.

  I thought of the risks I’d been taking—the climb up Grumflein Tower, the fall broken by the men below. I had been so fortunate that my ignorance didn’t harm the baby. That was what lay at the root of the change that I must now make. No longer could I play Raud Gríma and try to start a revolution. It was over. I must flee.

  I opened my eyes and stared unseeing at the rounded ceiling above.

  Yes, that was it. I could no longer afford to take such risks, to play such games. There was only one path left to me—I must retrieve Bersi from the School of the Holy Hand and escape Helésey once and for all. I would ask Kolorma for her help, but if she refused, I would do it without her somehow.

  All at once my energy returned to me. I threw my legs over the side of the table and sat up, gripping the edge as my head spun with the movement. Nausea roiled by subsided.

  No time to lose. It must be dark soon, and that meant the time for my last great risk would come. I must invade the school tonight. I must hold Bersi in my arms, tonight! No more waiting. No more plotting. No more lying and manipulating. No more robbing convoys and trying to light a flame under the denizens of the Undergrunnsby. Let Helésey burn or survive to perpetuate the Conversion far and wide—I could no longer try to influence the outcome. I would flee to Kemet, or farther if I could. I would have my baby, and my son, and raise them both, far from this rotten place.

  The need to find Kolorma and ask for her help burned away all other thoughts. I jumped to the floor and found my way through the tables and strange scientific equipment, some of which seemed alive: moving, bubbling, breathing. The door opened easily and I passed through to the more familiar side with all the screens in the wall.

  Liten and Madr stood together. It was clear I had interrupted some hushed conversation from the angle of their heads. “Where’s Spraki?” I asked, although it made little difference to me.

  “He’s gone to the palace,” Liten answered. “Someone has to track down our allies and warn them about the rooms.”

  “Everyone already knew the rooms weren’t safe,” I said. “We took care not to speak of things in specifics.”

  “No one’s ever been—arrested in one before. I don’t know what exactly alarmed those tasked with listening in,” Liten said, “but something Liut told you set them off. We can’t risk something like this happening again.”

  It seemed obvious to me. “I don’t think the listeners that sent the Officers to arrest Liut were working for the konunger,” I said. “Nothing Liut said was any threat to him.”

  “Who do you think was listening?” Madr asked. He stood with his arms wrapped around himself, as if he was cold.

  “Only one person can be behind Liut’s botched arrest,” I said evenly. “Only one person stood to lose anything when Liut chose to meet with me.”

  Madr’s eyebrows drew together and Liten’s face darkened as well. “You can’t think Reister did this.”

  “I do,” I said. “And why not? Reister has never been a loyal friend of mine.”

  “But Reister opposes the new order,” Liten said. “I understand his methods are… well, often reprehensible.” He raised his eyebrows at me. “And I understand that you suffered as a result, Myadar. But Reister wants the konunger and Galmr eliminated just as much as we do.”

  “And having Liut killed in no way stops that from happening,” I said.

  “But Liut warned you that Reister meant to betray you,” Liten argued. “I cannot believe that to be so. You’ve already accomplished so much. You’re right where you need to be, to bring about the end Reister hopes for, just as the rest of us do.”

  “Reister is a meadow viper,” I said in a low voice. “I’ll not presume to understand his motives.”

  “Myadar…” Liten’s voice trailed off as I turned on my heel and stormed out of the machine.

  ~~~

  How many rooms could they see on those eerie square screens in the machine? Had they watched me when I met with Liut? A sickening heat rolled through me even as chills at the renewed realization of Liut’s death smacked against it. I had never considered before that Spraki and the others might spy on me, an ally. My mind churned, caught in the storm of my shame, my remorse, and my panic. Had they done it to watch over me, out of some twisted idea that they could protect me? Nonsense. No one who watched Liut’s execution could have done a thing to help him. Those rooms—how many times had I met Liut there for an assignation? My “allies” had been watching me then. After that, I had met Kolorma. They had watched us, as well, though they had never seen much other than two women in dialogue. Still, it made my skin prickle with disgust. I had to leave this place now.

  I could no longer hope to navigate the court in relative safety. I believed Liut’s warning. Reister was angling to stab me in the back. I had no way of knowing when or how he would strike, and I dared not even return to the Sölbói apartments.

  I had to make my way through the palace to Kolorma’s rooms. I had never visited her there—we endeavored to hide our familiarity in public, pretending only to behave as courtiers often invited to the same events would. Of course, everyone knew I had “run away” with Liut and “stayed with Jarl Alflétta,” who “was Kolorma’
s lover.” The fictions might have amounted to my having some sort of friendship with the jöfurdis, and certainly my association with her only added to my mystique, but we preferred to act in such a way as to dispel the idea that we had any sort of alliance. It was better for the cause we both served.

  Now, however, I cast caution to the wind and headed straight through the corridors I knew would lead me to her private apartments. Let people see, let them talk, no court gossip could trouble to me now, no matter whose ears it reached. I must be gone from the city in a question of hours. Not days: hours. I sensed the net gathering around me. I must retrieve Bersi and flee.

  A human guard stood outside the door that led to the last hallway into the wing of the palace that housed the jöfurdis. When I saw him, I hesitated, then added speed to my steps as I tried to pass him. In a fluid motion, he leaned his spear between me and the door, so fast I almost ran into it.

  “I must see the jöfurdis!” I said sharply.

  The guard fixed me with icy blue eyes, and my heart dropped. Would I wind up arrested for trying to force my way into Kolorma’s apartments? It was a joke to make Luka laugh. At the thought of the god, I stepped back from the door. Could I trick my way in? If only I had the god’s gift for shape shifting. I would have made myself small as an ant, or perhaps I would have assumed the form of a robot messenger. Alas, Luka’s patronage was subtler than that.

  “I know I’m breaching protocol,” I said carefully. “It’s urgent! I’ve an urgent, private matter to discuss with her. Why not let me in and if she doesn’t want to see me, you can come and arrest me then?”

  The guard eyed me, the spear a motionless diagonal across the door.

  Frustration bubbled in my heart. I fixed the guard with my fiercest glare. “I am a favorite of the konunger,” I said. “Let me pass or I shall tell him of your insolence!”

  The door opened from within at that moment, saving me from the humiliation of facing the guard as he ignored this threat. Spraki appeared, Kolorma a few steps behind.