Souldrifter

by Garrett Calcaterra

  Talitha gave them no opportunity to object or question her presence. “I’m escorting a royal observer. Make way and announce Prince Caile Delios of Pyrthinia to the assembly. Immediately.”

  The two guards exchanged unsure glances, then scurried to do as she bade them. They opened the double doors, and twenty-odd council members all turned their way at the sudden disruption.

  “What is the meaning of this?” Natarios Rhodas demanded from his seat at the head of the table.

  “A royal observer,” one of the guards announced. “Prince Caile Delios of Pyrthinia.”

  “He is here at the bidding of Queen Makarria and Queen Taera,” Talitha interceded, again, just as they had planned. She strode in halfway around the table, nearly brushing her hand upon the houndkeeper’s shoulder as she passed, so that everyone there could see and recognize her. “Upon my dismissal as lord of proceedings, I traveled to Sol Valaróz and spoke with Queen Makarria. I urged her to return here and dissolve the election council, and to anoint a king of her own choosing if she would not rule Sargoth herself, but she instead gave the council her blessing. She applauds this council’s decision to put a time limit on the proceedings. She asked only that Prince Caile be allowed to observe and provide his counsel along with the ambassadors of Valaróz and Pyrthinia.”

  “Well, this is quite irregular,” Natarios Rhodas huffed.

  “I care not,” Talitha said, her face stolid, purveying a sense of insolence. “Accept him or don’t. I have done my duty and mean to return to Issborg. Sargoth is your problem now.”

  With that said, she turned away and walked out the way she’d come. Caile smiled inwardly. She had played her part perfectly, distancing herself from him so that the houndkeeper and the council would be more willing to accept him. He had a reputation, he knew, as a young man who was hotheaded and petulant, but also strong enough to defeat Don Bricio and Wulfram. It was best to temper that reputation with some calming reason. Hence Talitha’s act. And now it was his turn. He stepped forward from Thon, who stood nervously holding his hands behind his back.

  “Council members, my deepest apologies for the interruption,” Caile said, inclining his head slightly. “I know my intrusion is unorthodox, but so again is this council. I come here only to observe and to help as I may. It is not only the Five Kingdoms who watch these proceedings carefully, but also the Old World.” Caile swept his gaze across the room, taking in the faces of all the council members, whom he had at his complete attention now. He knew a few of the ambassadors, but that was all. The houndkeeper, Natarios, was easy to identify by his position at the head of the table, as was Lady Hildreth, being the only female in the room. The two of them particularly glared at him, although maybe it was just his imagination.

  “The Old World has called upon Queen Makarria,” he continued, “offering military support to bring Sargoth under her dominion. She sent the Old World away, just as she did the sorceress Talitha. She has placed her trust in this council to choose a capable and strong king. I am merely here to make sure you have the opportunity to do so.”

  “Then by all means,” Natarios Rhodas said, “sit down so we can proceed with our hearings.”

  Caile nodded and led Thon to the empty seats behind the ambassadors from Valaróz and Pyrthinia. He had stretched the truth a good deal, but better to have the council think he was on their side than openly opposed to them. And better to get the Old World’s motives out in the open. He was certain there were Old World sympathizers on the council. He had set the bait. Now it was just time to wait. Whoever came after him would be more in league with the Old World than the Five Kingdoms. I just hope I’m ready for them.

  15

  Faithful Servants

  With Lorentz, the body thief, safely locked away in the dungeon, Fina slept like a baby for the first time in years. Dreamless and heavy. It was as if her body was making up for lost time now that she’d finally given it license to relax, now that she wasn’t on constant alert for some thief or murderer in the night. How many years has it been? Ten years, at least, protecting my girls from Don Bricio’s cronies. Then it was Khal-Aband, fretting every echo, every footstep in the dark corridor, waiting for the guards to come punish me. And the creature—the body thief—who stole my own skin and then gave it back, just to torture me. But he’s gone now, thanks to Makarria.

  Fina would have slept right on into the afternoon if Queen Makarria hadn’t awoken her. She was abashed to be awoken so, and apologized profusely, but Makarria was not angry with her. In fact, the queen, too, seemed to be more at ease. The two of them lounged about in Makarria’s room, eating the breakfast the servants brought to them, content to eat in silence and enjoy the view from the balcony overlooking the city and harbor below. It should be her mother spending this time with Makarria, Fina thought as she nibbled at a pastry stuffed with spices and lamb. But a good ruler must make sacrifices, I see now, and I’m glad to share this moment of peace with the girl. She’s been through so much these past few days…

  The morning hours ebbed away, and finally Fina felt compelled to remind Makarria of her day’s responsibilities. “Your Majesty, you should begin preparing. The ambassadors will be expecting you in the throne room within the hour.”

  “Right, of course,” Makarria remarked absently. “Send my handmaidens in to dress me.”

  Fina did as she was commanded and waited obediently in the anteroom until the queen was ready, and then she escorted her down to the sitting room adjoining the throne room. Just four days earlier, the young queen had almost been murdered there, but it was tidy now, the blood scoured from the floor and the room furnished with new carpets and chairs. Scented candles flickered warmly in the sconces along the wall.

  “Are they ready for me in the throne room?” Queen Makarria asked, adjusting her gown. The poor girl never seemed to be comfortable in her royal garb.

  “Let me check, Your Majesty,” Fina replied, and she slipped the door open a crack to peer into the throne room. It was as packed to full capacity with retainers, aristocrats, and representatives from all walks of life in Sol Valaróz. Fina could make out among the ranks Makarria’s parents, Prisca and Galen, guarded closely by Captain Haviero. She also spied in the forefront the ambassador from the Old World, and, of course, that pig, Master Rubino. Fina understood why Makarria had summoned him to witness Lorentz’s capture, but it still sat wrong with her. Fina knew men of his ilk well. Men who outwardly scorned women and proselytized the sanctity of female chastity always did so to compensate for their own perversions. What is your perversion, Master Piggy? Fina mused. Little boys? Animals? Or maybe you simply can’t perform, and that’s why you hate women.

  “Well?” Makarria asked.

  Fina let the door close and turned back to the queen. “It looks like all is ready, Your Majesty. Are you ready? Shall I have the crier announce you?”

  “Yes. Let’s get this nonsense over with.”

  Fina opened the door fully this time and nodded at the herald who stood waiting on the other side.

  “Her majesty, Queen Makarria Parmenios!”

  Makarria pushed her way past Fina and the herald, and took a seat at her throne with little grace, looking as if she were some common wench taking a seat in the mess hall. Something seemed awry to Fina, but she dismissed the thought. She’s just nervous, Fina told herself, following in Makarria’s wake and taking up her place behind the throne.

  “People of Valaróz,” Makarria spoke, wasting no time. Her voice, at least, was clear and strong. “You come here today because you have heard stories. Stories of a queen and a prince. Stories that titillate your senses and send you off tittering to your neighbors. Did she really do it, you have asked yourselves. Did our queen lie down to rut with the prince from Pyrthinia?”

  Whispers and surprised murmurs filled the courtroom.

  What in Vala’s name is she doing?

  “Well, I come here today,” the queen continued, “to tell you that I did not. It was all a ploy. A ca
refully orchestrated scheme. We have had a spy in our court, a clever trickster of the most devious sort. A brilliant creature who staged a good number of misdeeds in order to undermine my authority in your eyes. You will be happy to know that, as of last night, that meddlesome trickster has been captured and, as I speak, rots in the dungeon beneath our feet. So leave here well-assured, my people, all is right once again. You can trust me. My maidenhood remains faithfully intact. Return to your women. Your wine. Whatever diversions you hold dear, and leave the ruling to me.”

  Makarria stood from the throne and bowed extravagantly. The crowd began murmuring again, unsure of what they had just heard, uncertain of whether they were meant to stay or go.

  Fina’s hair stood on end at the base of her neck, and she edged forward instinctively. This is not right. In the front ranks of the crowd, Master Rubino was scowling and gesturing frantically at the queen.

  “Your Majesty,” Fina hissed. “You’re supposed to let Master Rubino speak. As witness.”

  The queen shot a sidelong glance at Fina and nodded with a grin. “But wait, my people! Do not leave yet. I have a witness. Our esteemed Master Rubino stands as a witness. He would corroborate my story.”

  Master Rubino had the presence of mind—or pomposity—to ignore the crowd’s tittering and stepped halfway up the dais to pump up his chest and face the assembled court. “Good people of Sol Valaróz, it is I, Master Rubino, speaking on behalf of the Brotherhood of Five. I was summoned last night by the queen to witness the capture of a spy. While I cannot attest firsthand to his powers, I saw well enough that he was an enemy intent on killing the Queen. Indeed he killed one soldier and injured another trying to get at her. After having bore witness to this, and hearing the evidence Queen Makarria provided, I have no doubt as to the perversions of this spy. Your Queen is innocent, a victim of this perversion, as so many are, which is why the Brotherhood of Five will be bringing forth to the queen in the days and weeks to come a series of proposed morality laws. It is our goal to wipe clean the stain of perversion on this great city.”

  “Thank you, that is quite enough,” Queen Makarria interrupted, stepping down from her throne to clap Rubino on the shoulder. “I’ve just told my people they are free to celebrate. Let’s not dampen their spirits. Be gone, my people! You are dismissed. Go out, drink, and know one another!”

  There was no quieting the crowd this time. The throne room filled with their animated voices, mixed with laughs and a few indignant shouts in Makarria’s direction. Fina stared at the queen, stunned. Was this really Makarria? Had something happened in that room with the body thief? But he never touched her, never even got close. Fina didn’t know what to think, but she knew the hearing was turning into a spectacle and she needed to get the queen out of there before she did more damage.

  “What is the meaning of these theatrics?” Master Rubino was sputtering, stepping self-consciously away from the queen’s grasp. “You undermined me in front of the entire court!”

  “Just as you did to me a few days past,” the queen remarked, tapping him on the tip of the nose with her pointer finger. “Remember yourself, fat man. I’m the queen, and if you continue to be bothersome, I’ll be happy to relieve you of that jowly monstrosity you call a head. Now get out of my sight.”

  Fina could hardly believe what she was witnessing. “Your Majesty, we best exit the throne room. Now!” The queen obliged and retreated back behind the throne to the adjoining sitting room.

  “Are you feeling well, Your Majesty?” Fina asked when the doors were safely closed behind them.

  “Fantastic. Couldn’t be better. Why do you ask?”

  Again, the hair on Fina’s neck stood on end. She picked her words carefully. “Well, Your Majesty, because of the scene you just caused. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but I thought the whole purpose of today’s hearing was to not only clear your name, but also put the blame on the Old World as the likely perpetrators.”

  “Bah,” the queen replied waving one hand at her dismissively. “The pthisicis-corporis is captured now. That’s all that’s important.”

  “And the threats from the Old World? The election in Col Sargoth?”

  “That’s quite enough,” the queen snapped. “You’re my bodyguard. Nothing more. You think I don’t worry enough about these matters without you harping on me?”

  Fina lowered her eyes. “My apologies, Your Majesty.”

  “No need to apologize. Today is all about regaining good spirits. We’ve addressed the court, now let’s go visit our injured compatriots. The kennel master and another guard were injured last night, if I’m not mistaken. Where will we find them?”

  “In the infirmary, Your Majesty.”

  “Excellent,” the queen said, starting for the rear exit of the room, but just then the main doors opened behind them to admit Prisca, Galen, and Captain Haviero.

  “Makarria,” Prisca said, concern plainly written on her face. “What’s going on? Are you all right?”

  The queen pushed her mother away. “I’m quite fine, Mother, and I know exactly what I’m doing, so don’t be bothersome. You know the rules. It’s too dangerous for us to be together like this, so off with you to your room. Captain Haviero, if you would?”

  The captain nodded and motioned for Prisca and Galen to leave.

  “Makarria,” Galen objected, but the queen waved him away.

  “Go! Both of you! I have people to see. Important things to do!”

  Fina bit her tongue, her mind scrambling for what she should do. She needed to get to the dungeon to question Lorentz, the prisoner, she knew, but at the same time she didn’t dare leave the queen alone. Something horrible had happened, and until she could verify her suspicions, she had to make sure the queen—whoever she was—did not ruin everything.

  • • •

  In his dream, something was dripping. A leaky roof. Or a loose bung on a cask of wine. Drip. Drip. Drip. Each one a loud plunk on the stone floor. Each drip louder than the previous. He tried to make out his surroundings, but all was gray and formless, except the floor, which was liquid stone, rippling with each drip, rising ever closer to his prone form. He tried to get up, but was paralyzed. All he could do was crane his neck to see the black lake rising around him. Drip. Drip. Drip. Was it water? Wine? Or something else? Drip. Drip. Drip.

  Yes, something else. Blood, he realized with sudden panic, and he awoke with a gasp.

  The approaching footsteps stopped and Natarios Rhodas looked up from his bed to see two dark figures standing over him.

  “Stay back!” Natarios yelped, scurrying beneath the covers to cower against the wall on the far side of the bed. “Who’s there?”

  Without warning, one of the figures lunged forward and grasped Natarios by the ankle. Natarios screamed and kicked, but the man was strong. He yanked Natarios toward him and punched him in the side, right below the ribs. Natarios gasped in pain and curled up into a ball, still clinging to the edge of the bed.

  “We’re friends of a friend,” the other man said. “Here with a friendly reminder about the election. You were put in place to perform a certain task, and that’s to make sure Kobel wins the throne. This other business—whatever you spoke to Lady Hildreth about, and the sudden arrival of Prince Caile—will not be tolerated.”

  Natarios didn’t recognize the man’s voice, but it was obvious enough these two were hired muscle. Even reeling in pain, Natarios knew exactly who had sent them. “Tell Rives the meeting with Lady Hildreth was nothing. She has some influence with the cavalry. I was just feeling her out to find her thoughts on the war wagon factories. I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t interfere once Kobel is elected. And the prince—I had nothing to do with that. I had no idea he was even coming. Tell Rives. Please, you don’t need to hurt me.”

  “No more games,” the man said.

  “No more games,” Natarios agreed with a glimmer of hope that the ordeal was over. But no. The silent ruffian grabbed him again and twisted Natarios onto h
is stomach, only to punch him again, this time in the opposite kidney. The pain was blinding, stabbing deep into his abdomen and stealing away his breath. Natarios sobbed, and tears ran down his face to wet the crumpled bed sheets beneath him. When he finally caught his breath, the men were gone.

  Bastards! he swore silently after them, too afraid to actually yell. He pushed himself up and lit a candle. Even the dim light it emitted was comforting, and within a few moments he poured himself a glass of wine, drank deeply, and felt his wits return to him. He should have expected something like this, he knew. It was foolish to have not taken precautions, particularly after his talk with Lady Hildreth. At least I know the others view me as a threat now, he consoled himself. He would post guards at the tower entrance below, and perhaps a personal bodyguard was in order, too. Rives is a fool to think he can intimidate me into being his lapdog. If he wants to play rough, it will only be worse for him. I may not have as much gold at my disposal to hire muscle, but there are other ways to make a man suffer.

  16

  Clockwork Evil

  It took every ounce of willpower for Makarria to raise her head. The contraption attached to her skull—or Lorentz’s skull, as it was—had slowly weighed her down to a limp heap hanging from the shackles against the dungeon wall. It wasn’t so much the physical weight of the device as it was its unrelenting ticking. At the edge of her vision, near the center of her forehead, a turnkey protruded from the contraption. As it slowly spun, the unwinding of springs and clicking of gears reverberated through her head. At first, she had felt acutely the four screws embedded into her skull that secured the contraption to the crown of her head, but now all she sensed was one pulsating mass of pain where her mind should be.