The Rabbit And The Raven

by Melissa Eskue Ousley

  Abby exchanged a panicked look with David. Despite Hedeon’s warm demeanor and reassuring tone, the idea of her and Marisol being separated from the guys filled her with terror, more even than she’d felt in the iron carriage. With Cael’s warnings echoing in her mind, this sounded like a trap. She imagined the doors to the oracle’s court slamming shut and then armored guards dragging her away to be locked up in some windowless tower, never to see David and the others again.

  “Abby and Marisol can’t go in with us?” David asked, clutching Abby’s hand tightly.

  “My deepest apologies, Your Majesty. Women are not permitted in the court of the Eastern Oracle,” Hedeon said.

  “But they are our equals,” David protested, frowning. “Marisol is as skilled in combat as any of my male knights, and Abby is my cai aislingstraid. And my betrothed.”

  Hedeon raised his eyebrows in surprise and stared at Abby. “She is a c’aislingaer?”

  “Yes. Abby and Marisol are trusted advisors—I need them both by my side,” David insisted.

  Hedeon sighed. “Well, under certain circumstances, I suppose if the lady Abby is a cai aislingstraid, she might be permitted, but there are specific rules…” Abby felt a glimmer of hope for herself, but was frightened for Marisol. They couldn’t leave her alone in this place.

  “What rules?” David interrupted.

  “She must wear the veil, and she must remain silent,” Hedeon said. “Women are not permitted to speak in the presence of the Eastern Oracle.”

  “Not permitted to speak?” David asked, outraged. Abby could hear the anger in his voice, which had dropped an octave. He was choosing his words carefully, trying to control his rage. Anger would not help him win this battle.

  “It’s all right, David,” Abby reassured him, placing her hand on his arm. She looked at Hedeon. “I can wear the veil, and I swear I’ll stay quiet.”

  “Abby…” David began.

  “No, it’s fine,” she said. She smiled meekly, hoping her own anger was hidden.

  So the garment she thought was a shawl was actually a veil. She reverently removed it from her shoulders and placed it over her head, hiding her face. The lace did little to impede her vision, but judging by the look on Hedeon’s face, her features were sufficiently covered. Actually, she thought, this could work to our advantage. Maybe I’ll be able to observe without being observed.

  “Marisol and I will wait across the hall,” Jon announced, pulling Marisol toward the other side of the corridor.

  Abby nodded in agreement, relieved that Jon would have Sol’s back. She worried for him too, but given the oracle’s bias against women, her main concern was for Marisol.

  “Are you sure about that?” Marisol whispered to Jon.

  “Solidarity, babe,” he whispered back. “I’m not going in without you, and I’m not leaving you out here alone.” Jon’s tone of voice made Abby think something was not being said. And Marisol’s relieved smile confirmed Abby’s suspicions. She just hoped Hedeon hadn’t seen the dark look in Jon’s eyes.

  “Yes, we’ll just wait for you together.” Marisol declared. She took Jon’s hand and led him into the parlor.

  Hedeon watched them go, seemingly oblivious. Abby prayed that was the case. The knight turned back to David. “That is settled then. They need not wait long—the Eastern Oracle prefers to keep his appointments brief. Are we ready to enter?”

  David looked at Cael, who nodded assent. Cael had been awfully quiet this entire trip. Not that he was normally chatty, but still—Abby wondered what he was thinking. No matter; they would talk freely later. Abby’s attention turned to David as he took her hand.

  “Yes, we’re ready,” David replied.

  “Very well, Sire.” Hedeon turned to Abby. “And remember, you must remain silent.”

  Abby nodded in what she hoped was a submissive manner. “I understand.”

  “Good,” Hedeon said. “Guards?”

  The guards opened the doors. The windowless room was large and square. The wall behind the throne had two sets of double doors, one set on either side of the throne. The doors on the left were closed, but the ones on the right were open to a balcony. A soft breeze from the Eastern Sea drifted in. The smell of the moist air was lovely. Abby imagined that this room could get quite stuffy at times, even without the stiff rules of its chief administrator.

  The Eastern Oracle’s empty throne was made of dark, carved wood and sat on a similarly carved wooden dais overlooking the vast, ornate carpet stretching from the front of the dais to the court room’s entry. Just beyond the four walls, the room was punctuated by an inner square made up of a series of carved marble arches supported by pillars. Both the entry and the throne were symmetrically framed by the pillars. It was a lavish room, but one ruled by strict order.

  Hedeon gestured for the guards to close the doors and led Abby to stand on one side of the room next to the dark, paneled wall. “You will wait here until the audience with the Eastern Oracle concludes,” he instructed.

  She nodded silently. From here, in the shadows under the archway, her form would be obscured from view. All the better to watch you, my dear, she thought.

  “Solas Beir, you and your knight will stand here.” Hedeon pointed to a spot in the center of the court’s luxurious carpet, then marched over to the open door of the balcony and closed it ceremoniously. “I will inform the Eastern Oracle of your arrival.” Hedeon walked behind the throne, exiting through the door on the other side, disappearing without another word.

  In the silence, David looked over at Abby. I’m sorry, he mouthed. She nodded as if to reassure him, but he couldn’t see the expression on her face because of the veil that covered it.

  Cael placed his hand on David’s arm. “Do not acknowledge her,” he whispered. “Whether or not you agree with the man’s philosophy, we must play according to his rules if we are to have success here.”

  “I know,” David whispered back. “And I will play along. For now.”

  “Good,” Cael whispered. “Remember what I said—be on your guard.”

  The door opened once again, and Hedeon emerged. He stood just in front of the throne and bowed formally to David and Cael. “Greetings to our most honored guests, the Solas Beir Artan, and his knight Cael. May I present my esteemed master, lord of our glorious city, the Eastern Oracle.”

  There was a swishing noise—the sound of silken fabric in motion. It almost sounded like the movement of a snake across sand. The Eastern Oracle emerged from his chamber wearing a high-necked scarlet robe that was tight around his thin chest and waist, and then blossomed into a full skirt with a regal train. He was attended by several clerks in long-sleeved black robes who nervously scampered behind him to keep his long train from catching on the carved wood as he mounted the dais.

  The Eastern Oracle settled into his throne gracefully, then delicately raised his hands to adjust his headpiece, a matching square cap encircled with a gold diadem. His dark hair and beard were neatly trimmed, framing prominent cheekbones.

  He placed his hands in his lap, all but the tips of his fingers disappearing into long, flowing sleeves embroidered with gold thread. It was only after this ritual that he favored David with a glance.

  “Greetings, Lightbearer,” the Eastern Oracle said. His voice boomed with authority, a surprise coming from a man so gaunt and pale that he seemed frail, almost sickly. There was something about his eyes that made him seem much older than the monklike young men who served him.

  David noted that the Eastern Oracle did not address him using the formal title of Solas Beir, but ignored the possible slight. “Thank you, Eastern Oracle.” He bowed and then straightened his back to stand tall, holding himself with dignity. He had a feeling this man did not suffer fools lightly and would pounce at the first sign of weakness.

  The oracle studied David through narrowed eyes. “I trust your stay has been pleasant, and my servant Hedeon has provided for your needs adequately?”

  “Indeed he has.
Your hospitality has soared far above all expectations. We offer our utmost gratitude,” David answered.

  “And what is it that brings you to our great city?” the oracle asked.

  “You may be aware that Tynan Tierney has escaped from the Wasteland, and now builds his army.”

  “I have heard whispers and rumors of this,” the oracle replied, waving his hand dismissively. “I also heard that it was the knight Cael who enabled the Kruor um Beir’s escape.”

  Out of the corner of his eye, David could see Cael start at this accusation, but he said nothing, covering his initial shock with an impassive expression, his eyes stoically trained on the wall behind the throne. David kept his eyes on the oracle’s.

  “That rumor is false.” David took a step toward the oracle. “Cael has ever served the throne of the Solas Beir with excellence and honor. It was because of Cael’s loyalty and the sacrifices of his warriors that I was able to rebuild the portal and return to my birthplace. Tierney escaped because of an unprovoked attack by the Kruorumbrae on one of my subjects who came to my aid.”

  “I see.” The Eastern Oracle settled back into his chair with a sigh, moving his hands to rest on the wide, wooden arms of the throne. He looked bored, absently drumming his fingers against the armrest. “And what has this to do with us on the eastern shore?”

  David ignored the man’s show of apathy. He took another step forward and infused his voice with authority. “All of Cai Terenmare would suffer should Tierney succeed in gathering his forces and resume his quest to seize the throne. The Southern, Northern, and Western Oracles have all made pacts promising me their loyalty. I now seek an alliance with you to once and for all put an end to the Kruor um Beir’s evil.”

  The oracle’s eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned forward, stilling the drumming of his fingers. Apparently David had finally managed to land on a topic worthy of the man’s attention. “All three have pledged thus?”

  “They have. May I count on you as well?”

  The oracle scowled. “You most certainly may not.”

  “No?” David asked.

  “No,” he repeated sternly.

  The look on the oracle’s face was a mystery to David—was that fear in his eyes? Disgust? Hatred? Maybe a combination of all three?

  “It seems to me that those who make a pact with your throne do not fare well,” the oracle accused. “Is it not true that my dear sister, the late Western Oracle, was slain at the hands of the knight who now serves as your right hand? Only to be replaced with a lesser being?”

  “Cael acted in self-defense after the former Western Oracle and her sirens murdered his crew and tried to take his life as well. He was on a diplomatic mission from the Solas Beir, and their aggression toward him was unprovoked,” David countered.

  The oracle laughed haughtily. “Unprovoked? Ah, Lightbearer, I see a common thread in your excuses, but your reasoning falls short. How could your knight be on a mission from the Solas Beir when the Solas Beir was dead? That order came from your queen,” he scoffed. “It was not valid.”

  David felt anger blaze in his chest. So much for keeping emotions in check—the time for niceties had long since passed. “In the Solas Beir’s absence, the queen’s order was equal to my father’s, particularly where my safety as the heir was concerned. And, with all due respect, Nerine has served more honorably in her short time as Western Oracle than your sister ever did.”

  The Eastern Oracle hissed, then resumed his composure. “Rubbish. Nerine is but a simple mermaid—her power will never be equal to my sister’s,” he said coldly. “But never mind that. Allow me to present a second example of how those who serve the Solas Beir fare. Is it not also true that your father removed Tynan Tierney from the post of Southern Oracle? What assurance do I, or any of the oracles, have that you will not do the same should we disagree with your policies?”

  “Your example is moot,” David replied, narrowing his eyes. He glanced down and realized he was clenching his fists. He forced himself to relax, uncurling his fingers; acting defensive was not helping. Taking a breath, he continued. “Tierney was not removed for disagreeing with my father—he was removed for slaughtering thousands upon thousands to feed his greed.”

  “They were simple humans. Your father lost sight of the proper order of things. He betrayed the powerful for the weak,” the oracle spat.

  “No. My father fulfilled his role in representing the Light by protecting those who could not protect themselves. And it cost him his life.”

  The Eastern Oracle glared at David, and then sighed dramatically, settling back into his chair. “Ah, young Lightbearer, I see that we have reached an impasse. There are many things about which we do not agree.”

  “It seems so.” David focused on projecting calm confidence. He maintained eye contact with the oracle.

  The oracle looked away, studying his fingernails. He looked back at David. “Do you know that, in my city, the Kruorumbrae live among us, and my people have no reason to fear them?”

  David hesitated, wondering where the oracle was going with this. He nodded. “That is what Hedeon told us.”

  The oracle raised his eyebrows, glancing in Hedeon’s direction before turning back to David. “And do you believe it to be true? Have you seen anything to suggest otherwise?”

  In the periphery of his vision, David could see Cael tense up, and knew what he was thinking. Have caution in how you answer, Solas Beir. “No. Quite the opposite,” David replied. “We have seen only order in your city. But how can this be? The Kruorumbrae are well known for their insatiable appetites.”

  The Eastern Oracle smiled. “I have a system. You see, young man, in the void of power left by your father’s death, someone had to take control, lest we be overrun by the Kruorumbrae. I established a system of courtesans to serve the needs of the Blood Shadows, who agreed to still their attacks against our citizenry. But I know you will not believe my words alone.”

  The oracle signaled to one of his clerks, who went to the door of the oracle’s chambers. The clerk rapped twice on the door and a young man dressed in silken purple clothing entered the courtroom. “You must hear firsthand from those who dwell within the inner sanctuary of our city. Step forward, courtesan,” the oracle commanded.

  The young man moved in front of the throne and bowed to David.

  “Tell me, Lightbearer,” the oracle continued. “Does our young friend appear to be in good health?”

  The courtesan took a step forward, turning slowly in a circle for David’s inspection. David studied the young man carefully. He did seem healthy and strong, with a good complexion and clear, intelligent eyes. “Yes, he seems healthy enough,” David replied. “What is the mark on his hand?”

  The oracle looked amused, his eyebrows raised, a sly smile on his lips. “You do not recognize it?”

  David frowned. “Of course I do. It looks like the Sign of the Throne, the sigil of the Solas Beir. But what does it mean in this context?”

  “In this context?” the oracle laughed. “A fine dicing of words. But I shall indulge you, nevertheless. It means that this young man is a sacred son of our city. The courtesan class is elevated above all others. They have the finest quarters in the palace and eat the best food. I daresay they receive better nourishment even than I,” the oracle chuckled, patting his perfectly flat belly. “They must, of course, because it is the blood of the courtesans that feeds the Kruorumbrae who dwell here. In exchange for their service, courtesans and their families live a life of luxury. Their family members bear a different mark, assuring that they will never be touched by the Blood Shadows.”

  “And what about the rest of the people who live here?” David asked.

  “They too are protected. Under the law of the courtesans, our people have been safe from the Kruorumbrae,” the oracle clarified.

  “I see,” David said.

  “Good. I am most glad we understand each other,” the oracle smiled.

  “I do have one more questio
n though,” David said, returning the oracle’s smile, “for him.” He nodded toward the courtesan.

  The courtesan turned to the oracle questioningly—it seemed he had not planned on having a speaking role. Or had been ordered to remain silent.

  “You did say I would get to hear from him firsthand, did you not?” David asked innocently.

  “So I did,” the oracle frowned. He flicked his wrist at the courtesan. “Proceed.” The courtesan turned back to David.

  “Are you a courtesan of your own free will?” David asked.

  “Yes, Sire. I am,” the courtesan answered.

  The Eastern Oracle beamed triumphantly. “You see, Lightbearer, under my system, we are living in a golden era of peace and prosperity, as golden indeed as the mark worn by the courtesans themselves. Why then, would I be so foolish as to disrupt that peace by joining your cause? Perhaps if you were to implement a similar system in the western realm and let go of this little war of yours, your problems would disappear.”

  The oracle was baiting him. For all his talk of peace, the Eastern Oracle wanted a fight with the Throne, and further discussion could only make things worse. David could see that an alliance with the Eastern Oracle would never be possible. The only question that remained was whether the Eastern Oracle was acting of his own accord or if he had already made a deal with Tierney.

  “I see where you stand on the matter,” David said. “Thank you for your time and hospitality. We will leave the city immediately and return to Caislucis, once we have gathered our belongings. Cael, Abby, let’s go.”

  Abby moved from her place against the wall to join David and Cael in the center of the court. The Eastern Oracle looked startled. Apparently he had not noticed the presence of a woman. David boldly broke protocol, taking Abby’s hand as they bowed together with Cael. Then the three of them turned and left the court of the Eastern Oracle without another word.

  The Eastern Oracle waited until the courtroom doors were closed. He turned to Hedeon. “Do not let them out of your sight,” he commanded.