“I will return soon,” said the wizard as he stood. “Torturing is thirsty work.” He climbed down the ladder into the main part of the stable, leaving Gavin writhing on the floor in a world of pain.
Candle marks passed as the beetles slowly worked their way up. He whimpered and twisted, rubbing his body against the rough boards until his skin tore and bled as he tried to scrape away what really wasn't there.
As the beetles reached his neck, panic flooded his mind and he began to scream over and over. The beetles reached his jaw. He felt their antennae brushing his bottom lip. Tears streamed down his face as his voice gave out. One sane part of his mind wanted to know if the information was really worth this price?
The pain stopped and Gavin stared up at the wizard as he shook and cried, mucus from his nose running down his chin.
“I just realized,” said the wizard, “that I never introduced myself. My name is Gennadios. I apologize for interrupting. Allow me to–” He raised his hand.
“No!” rasped Gavin. “No.”
“My friend, I have to keep doing this until you tell me what I want to know.”
“Why do you want to know?”
Gennadios knelt beside him. “Whether you like it or not, King Marduk will capture Clara. It will go easier with her if he knows something about her. Seers are fragile. If he pushes her the wrong way, it could break her. It could kill the gift. Could kill her. It is very important that we know who she is. What she is like.”
“She will be treated well?” Tears and mucus covered his face as he turned his head to the floor to muffle the sobs leaking up through his mouth.
“Hush.” Gennadios stroked his back. Gavin flinched away. The wizard shifted his weight and sat on the floor. “Yes. She will be treated well.”
“I will tell you everything I know.”
“Good. Good. Begin with her childhood.”
Gennadios stomped down the ladder. His two companions looked up from their game of hnefatafl.
“How'd it go?” asked Barsabbas.
“He's broken,” Gennadios said, dropping heavily into a nearby chair.
“You look tired, Genna,” said Norton.
“I am. That was not an easy one.”
“How long did you leave him in that last illusion?”
“Three candle marks.”
The two men made appreciative noises. Norton said philosophically, “If he cares for her, then it's natural that he should hold out for so long.” He moved one of his pieces against Barsabbas.
“Do we have any wine left?”
“Oh, plenty.” He stood and fished out a flagon from their luggage. He passed it to Gennadios, who drank greedily from it.
Barsabbas moved a piece. “Did we learn anything useful?”
“Oh, we did,” Genna replied. “It seems that the lady is rather wounded.”
“The wounded ones are the easiest.”
They sat in silence for a few moments. Barsabbas beat Norton. Switching sides, they began the customary second game.
Norton asked, “What are we to do with him?”
“We aren't supposed to kill him,” said Barsabbas. “He goes back with us.”
“Why?”
Barsabbas shrugged as he made his move. Norton gave Gennadios a questioning look.
“I do not know either, Norton,” he replied. “His Majesty has his reasons though, long may he live.”
“We leave at first light?” asked Barsabbas
“Yes,” said Gennadios. “Emmerich and his band of would-be rebels will be here in two or three se'ennights. It would be best to put as many leagues between us and them as possible.”
The two men nodded as they carried on with their game.
Chapter Twenty
A few days after Gavin's departure, five men rode up to the gate of Orlind Castle. When asked for their name and business, a flag bearing the Tieran King's crest was waved. A messenger was immediately sent to summon Emmerich, who ordered for the emissaries to be allowed entrance. He also sent for Clara, who met him in the audience room of the Castle.
Clara sat in a small chair to his right, with Cassie standing beside and behind her, while his captains stood to his left.
The door of the room opened and the five men entered. They wore black trousers with dark yellow tunics over chain mail. Their swords were lighter and more elegant than what the Lorst men wore on their hips. Their hair was also long and tied back with silver clasps. One man led them while the four walked behind in a wedge.
The men stopped and bowed. Emmerich was immediately struck with how similar they looked to Clara: the same almond eyes with the upward tilt, and the same sharpness of the face. They were also small, like her, perhaps half the height of an average Lorstian man.
But Emmerich had enough experience with fighting Tieran raiders to know they were fierce and not to be underestimated.
“Greetings,” said the leader, “from King Precene. We come bearing gifts and offers of peace and support.”
“Your offers are appreciated,” Emmerich replied, “and I offer you and your men the hospitality of our castle.”
“Thank you.” The man gave a slight bow. “I am Lord Theseus and these are my men. I come from the Provence of Praula, which is on the border with Lorst. This is why his Majesty sent me to treat with you.”
“We are well-met, Lord Theseus. These are my captains.” Emmerich gestured to his left. The men bowed to each other. “And this is Lady Clara, my Seer.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Clara stiffen a little at the attention being drawn to her. She drew herself to her full height as Theseus and his men turned to her.
“Well-met, my lady,” said Theseus as he bowed. “My lady may already know this, but an empty chair is kept by the throne in Aphos, our capital, for any visiting Seer who wishes to use it, in honor of Lady Persephone, who with her visions saved our people.”
Clara glanced at Emmerich before giving a deep nod of her head.
“Her ladyship,” said Emmerich, “appreciates your words. Please forgive her for not saying so herself, but she doesn't have the ability to speak.”
“Interesting,” said Theseus and Emmerich could see he wondered how Clara fulfilled her role.
“What tidings does your king send?”
Theseus turned and gestured. The men brought forward the ironbound chest they had carried between them. Kneeling, they opened it, revealing gold coins, more than enough to finance the army for the rest of its campaign. Provided that it was a short one, that is.
“This,” said the Tieran lord, “is only a taste of what King Precene offers.”
“Does he offer men as well?”
“Three full companies, to be sent to wherever you desire, as soon as I can return word to him of a successful end to our negotiations.”
“And the captains in charge of those companies?”
“They will obey your command, of course.”
“What does His Majesty wish in return?”
Theseus drew a scroll from his belt and held it up. Emmerich gestured and Herne came forward to take the scroll, handing it back to Emmerich. He broke the heavy seals and unrolled the parchment. Clara leaned over to read it and, for a moment, he was distracted by the clean scent of her.
Forcing himself to focus, he read the terms.
“These are steep terms,” he said after reading them.
“I am in full authority to make amendments to it.”
Clara was staring in the distance, her eyes wide and vacant. Suddenly, she shook herself and began scratching away on her slate. He glanced at her a moment before turning back to Theseus. “You wish for us to send a tithe to your king. That is not what allies do. That is the behavior of vassals to an overlord.”
“It is merely trade.”
“Interesting, then, that there is no stipulation of what he will send in return.”
Clara touched his sleeve and he bent to read the slate. It read, “If you agree to these terms as they stand,
there will be blood between Tier and Lorst.”
Emmerich nodded and looked back at Theseus. “My Seer warns me that there will be conflict. Therefore, I will not agree to these terms. As they stand, of course.”
The emissary looked from Emmerich to Clara and back again before forcing a smile. “Of course. Who agrees with everything that is written at its first presentation?”
Clara touched Emmerich's sleeve again. He hadn't even noticed her writing. He read the slate and looked at her questioningly. When she nodded, he turned back to the lord. “Here is my suggestion. For the most part, there is nothing wrong with these terms. However, let us drop the tribute, as well as the petition to return the border city of Klaress. In their place, I offer open trade between our countries as well as a country-wide festival, to be held annually, to honor the help Tier extended.”
Theseus drummed his fingers against his belt as he considered this.
“Also,” continued Emmerich, “a law will be passed to protect your caravans and Klaress will be declared neutral territory between us.”
This seemed to do it for the emissary and he readily agreed.
That night, a banquet was thrown for the emissaries and Clara found herself sitting next to Lord Theseus.
“My lady,” he said, “if I may be so bold, but you seem to have inherited some of the look of my country.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw that Emmerich had turned to listen to the exchange.
“Pray, who was your father and mother?”
Clara fidgeted. As far as she knew, both of her parents had been Lorstian, and she wrote as much on her slate.
Theseus's eyes went from her writing back to her face. “If the lady says so. But, I must admit, your eyes remind me of someone I met once, though I cannot place who.”
Flustered, she bowed her head and turned back to her meal. Emmerich looked at her with interest for a moment before asking Theseus a question about a Tier-made blade he had won on the battlefield. Clara, though, barely touched her food as she wondered if there was something about herself she hadn't known all along.
The next day, they saw off the emissaries after Theseus promised that the companies of men would be sent to Candor City.
“I expect to be in possession of it in a month's time,” Emmerich said.
“Your confidence does you great credit,” said Lord Theseus. Turning, he took Clara's hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you, my lady.” Bending, he kissed the back of the knuckles before releasing her and, with a final bow to Emmerich, walked down the steps of the Great Hall. He mounted his horse, waved, and trotted out of the courtyard, his companions riding behind him.
Emmerich turned to her and said, “There was no vision, was there?”
She smiled up at him and shook her head.
“But you realized that the Tierans put a lot of stock in Seers, when he told you about Persephone's chair.”
She nodded.
“So you knew if you faked a vision, it would make the emissary more pliant.”
Another nod.
Emmerich chuckled. “That's quite devious. What inspired you to do so?”
She took out her slate and wrote, “Sometimes, a little deception is necessary. A friend taught me that.”
A dark look crossed her face and Emmerich could imagine who that friend was. Instead of answering, however, he turned to walk into the shadowy depths of the Hall.
Chapter Twenty-One
When Clara woke the next morning, she was glad to see that Cassie had yet to arrive. Cassie was a sweet girl, and sometimes tried to draw her out in conversation, but Clara felt suffocated by all the people surrounding her.
Getting up, she dressed quickly in the riding clothes, strapping on her sword. Much to Emmerich's amusement and chagrin, she had taken to wearing it all the time. She eased open her door. The room was dark except for a guttering lamp, which threw off weak light. She trimmed the wick, bringing more light into the room, and crept up to the door. Opening it, her four guards turned to look down at her. She held up her slate, on which she had already written, “I would like to go for a ride.”
“This early, my lady?” asked one of them, a normally quiet man named Reid. He was the only one who could read.
She nodded.
“Do ya wish for us to get your maid?”
She shook her head.
Another guard spoke up. “Won't be right, my lady.”
She gave him a hard look and stepped out into the hall, closing the door behind her. With long strides, she walked away, forcing them to follow. One of them whispered about turning back but Reid said no.
“It'll be all right,” he said.
“General isn't going to like this.”
Clara glared over her shoulder before picking up her pace.
Outside, dawn was only just beginning to break up the darkness of night. The soft air carried the barest edge of cold; it would be autumn before long. Clara wondered if they would winter in Candor. Surely Emmerich wouldn't try to force his way further south when the snows came.
The stables were warm and sweet smelling. Usually, she liked it, but something about it gave her a bit of unease. She paused, expecting a vision to come upon her, but nothing happened. Shrugging, she went to her horse's stall and reached for the door, but a guard stopped her.
“Let me, m'lady,” he said.
Scowling at him, she opened the stall and set about tacking up her horse herself while the guards scurried about getting their own horses ready. A sleepy groomsman came around to investigate.
“Need some help, m'lady?” he asked.
She shook her head.
“Off for a bit of a ride, eh? I hear the southern path is quite nice.”
She smiled up at him as she tightened the girth.
“You have a good morning, m'lady.” He bowed and left her.
Once her horse was ready, she led him out, swung up onto the saddle, and took off with the guards barely behind her. She galloped toward the front gate, waving wildly. Soldiers yelled for the gate to be opened and men scrambled to pull the lever. The doors groaned open and the drawbridge fell just in time for her to dash through.
A few moments later, she heard the thunder of her guards' horses. She turned to go down the southern path, which was a leisurely trail used by the Baroness on her pleasure rides. But as soon as she was hidden by a stand of trees, she jerked the reins and changed direction.
The woods were more open on that side of the castle and she was able to navigate around the trees easily. She grinned wildly as the wind whipped over her. Before long, she came out into a clearing and she stopped her horse. Listening, she heard the distant shouting of men as they called for her. Clara looked up toward the castle before digging in her heels and galloping on.
After more trees, she came out onto another path, one she didn't recognize. Clara slowed her horse and went down the path at an easy walk. Taking a deep breath, she listened to the silence of the forest as the sun began to fill the world with her rays.
“My lord!” Haggard burst into the room.
Emmerich, who'd just started breakfast, jumped to his feet. “What?”
“It's Lady Clara. She's run away.”
“What?” He blinked. “Why would she do that?”
Haggard shook his head. “I don't know, m'lord. Me and the other men went to relieve the night watch and they were comin' in, saying she'd run off and they couldn't find her.”
Emmerich felt like he was going to be sick. Hadn't he given her everything she'd asked for? Why would she do such a foolish thing?
“Saddle my horse,” he ordered. “I want six men to go with me.”
“Aye, my lord.” Haggard bowed and ran out.
Emmerich strapped on his sword and belt knife. After a moment's hesitation, he added his boot knife as well. Running fingers through his hair, he dashed out and down to the stables, where a flurry of men were getting ready.
He saw Reid and grabbed the man's arm. “What the hell ha
ppened?”
“I don't know, my lord. She wanted to go for a ride and wouldn't let us get her maid. As soon as she was saddled, she bolted for the gates and got away before we could catch her.”
“Which way?”
“South, but there was nothing that way. We think she changed directions.”
Nodding, Emmerich mounted his horse, waiting barely long enough for the rest of the men to saddle before pelting out of the castle. He turned and headed toward the southern trail but as soon as he came around a stand of trees, he held up his hand, coming to a stop.
Emmerich looked carefully at the ground. It had rained the night before and the ground was still muddy. It wasn't long before he saw it: hoof prints turning westward. Turning his own horse, he led the men into the woods.
Birds twittered all around her as Clara went deeper along the forest trail. Above, the sunlight began to pour more strongly. Looking down, she saw that tall grass filled the trail. The sign of disuse made an uneasy prickle dance down her neck while it also excited her. Maybe she would find a secret place she could escape to whenever she needed?
A twig snapped in the woods to her right. Stopping her horse, she gazed into the shadowy woods. Another twig snapped to her left. The horse danced uneasily. Looking around, she saw no one. Shrugging it off as animals, she carried on.
Rounding a bend in the road, she found her way blocked by a log with brush piled over it. Clara eyed the obstruction. Emmerich hadn't shown her how to jump a horse and she wasn't sure if she wanted to give the exercise a try.
Something crashed through the woods on either side of her and birds erupted out of the treetops. Turning, she felt the blood drain from her face as men came out of the woods on foot. Dirty and wearing patched clothing, they carried swords, knives, and maces. There were eight in all. Clara's hand landed on her sword hilt.
“Good morning, m'lady,” said one of the men. “Comin' from the castle?”
Cold sweat broke out over her forehead as she worked her mouth, trying to summon words or even a guttural sound.
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