Change of Darkness

by Jacinta Jade

  Her mind flicked promptly to Archon Atalia. The female clearly had designs on Chezran, and if her exchange with the archon in the council room the previous evening was any indication, then Siraay expected that battle to heat up quickly.

  She smiled smugly to herself. Competition always made things more interesting …

  Finished washing her hair, she raised herself from the water, her lithe form dripping as she stepped from the bath.

  Trelar hurried up the steps with a thick towel, and Siraay took it, rapidly drying herself off before she let it fall to the floor. She glanced at the female. ‘Options?’ she prompted briskly.

  Trelar spun and speedily crossed the length of the room, reaching into the hidden closet and pulling out three hangers from inside, holding them out, one by one, for Siraay to view.

  The first outfit was the colour of warm sand dunes, a muted red that would set off her skin and hair nicely. It had long sleeves and a tight torso, but its flowing skirt was still practical and sat just off the floor.

  The second outfit was a dark charcoal grey, and also had long sleeves, a high collar, panelling across the bodice, and a skirt that parted quite high at the front, leaving the two panels to split out and drape to the back. Siraay walked forwards to touch the dress. ‘A little scandalous, isn’t it?’ she commented to the servant, but she was nonetheless intrigued by the garment.

  Trelar smiled. ‘It would be, lady, but it is worn with these.’ She held out a pair of slightly darker leggings.

  Siraay smiled at her servant. ‘That’s the one.’

  ***

  Dressed and having had a quick meal, Siraay was patiently sitting as Trelar finished fixing her hair into a loose braid when a knock sounded at the door.

  Surprised, Siraay waved for Trelar to see who it was as she stood and straightened her outfit. Had Chezran come to check on her? She glanced towards the windows, where early-morning light was still streaming in. Surely not so soon.

  Curious, she strode forwards a little, listening intently as Trelar spoke with the guard outside her door. Which reminded her—she still had to speak with Chezran about her escort.

  As Trelar turned away from the door, almost closing it, her eyebrows lifted slightly as she said, ‘Archon Renhed to see you, lady.’

  Siraay’s own eyebrows rose in response. This was unexpected, and unusual, if Trelar’s reaction was any indication. Knowing the quick mind of the spymaster, Siraay flicked her fingers at Trelar. ‘Please welcome the archon in.’ It wouldn’t do to have Renhed think Siraay was unsure what to make of this visit. Even if she was.

  Trelar swiftly pivoted back to the door, opening it widely and stepping back as the slight frame of the spymaster was revealed. Renhed was wearing black again, although this time she wore a long-sleeved shirt and tight pants, not unlike Siraay’s own leggings.

  Siraay straightened a bit more, feeling even more secure in her choice of outfit for the day. ‘Archon Renhed,’ she greeted the female, her expression neutral. ‘Please come in.’

  Renhed dipped her head in greeting but did not move. ‘Actually, lady, I thought I might escort you down to Lord Chezran this morning.’ Her eyes fixed steadily on Siraay’s face.

  Siraay masked her surprise by taking a couple of slow steps forwards, which also gave her a breath to think of a response. If she declined, it might seem rude, and Renhed may question her reluctance when Siraay was due to see Chezran, anyway. There was something off about the invitation, but she couldn’t pin down exactly what it was.

  Better to engage with the spymaster directly, then.

  ‘Certainly. I was just about to head down myself.’ Siraay moved smoothly the rest of the way to the door, her pace even, nodding to Trelar as the servant held the door open for her and the archon.

  Once out in the hallway, Siraay expected Renhed to begin walking immediately, but instead, the archon paused and twisted, not towards Siraay but to her guards at the door who had already taken a step away from their posts to fall in as escort.

  ‘You can remain here,’ the archon told the pair. ‘The lady will be safe with me.’ Her voice was firm and allowed no room for argument.

  The guards hesitated for an instant but then nodded and backtracked slightly to resume their places by the door.

  Renhed spun without a further word, and, turning also, Siraay and the archon walked down the corridor in silence. To break the quietude the archon had decided to impose upon them would make Siraay appear anxious, or needful of information—not the sort of thing that would help the reputation she was trying to establish.

  So instead she made her lips curl into a small smile and let her gaze soften as she scanned the hangings around them as they made their way down the grand staircase, their feet sounding in unison on the soft carpets.

  The spymaster led the way down towards the training hall once more, and Siraay had barely begun wondering if that was where they were heading when the archon pivoted abruptly and pushed open a smaller door on their left. Stepping swiftly into the room, she wheeled and motioned for Siraay to follow her in.

  Although her stomach tightened, Siraay didn’t see much choice, and after the slightest of pauses, she proceeded into the room.

  The softest snick of a door closing, and Siraay spun on her heel, taking a long step backwards at the same time to put room between her and the archon—just in case.

  The spymaster turned away from the door, a small, amused smile crossing her face as her eyes tracked the distance between the two of them. ‘You don’t trust me.’ She said this matter-of-factly, as if she was stating an obvious truth.

  Siraay didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t say anything but kept herself alert for threats of any kind.

  ‘Which is good,’ Renhed continued, ‘shows you have sense as well as intelligence.’ She shrugged as she leaned her shoulders back against the closed door. ‘Not everyone has both.’

  Siraay still hadn’t moved, but she was well and truly aware that the archon was now blocking the only exit to the room. Yet as silence descended once more, she decided that she wasn’t in any immediate danger, so she began strolling around the room a little, pretending to take it in.

  ‘You brought me here to talk about something?’ She made her voice soft, but she was sure that the archon could hear the steel in it. At least the room’s interesting, Siraay thought as she looked around.

  Tall, broad shelves filled with large books spanned the walls of the room, and a high, round table was centred in the middle of the carpeted space. An old-fashioned library.

  These days, most books were in electronic form, and one only needed a reading pad, and the right clearance, to view whatever texts one desired.

  Renhed shifted slightly in her position against the door. ‘You’re direct. I like that. And yes—we need to discuss what you’re doing here.’

  Siraay pivoted to face the archon. ‘I thought after last night it would be obvious,’ she said carefully.

  ‘It is. To me, at least.’ Renhed straightened. ‘While everyone else may have thought that you were just posing, with your little speech about leading, I can see that you actually mean what you say. That you want to be Chezran’s right hand in all things.’

  Siraay considered Renhed for a moment. ‘That’s right.’

  The archon nodded thoughtfully. ‘It was only a matter of time before Chezran chose a mate, and frankly, I’d much prefer you over Atalia.’

  Siraay felt her brows rise in surprise. This conversation certainly wasn’t going the way she had anticipated. ‘You want him to choose me? Why?’

  Renhed shrugged. ‘A couple of reasons. The first is, as I’ve already said—you have sense and intelligence. A combination that Atalia most certainly does not have. And while I imagine you both have a penchant for cruelty’—she smiled viciously, and Siraay knew that, in that matter, the spymaster could probably outdo nearly everyone else—‘you apply your sense first. A key difference, when it comes to winning battles.’

  S
iraay didn’t let the flattery distract her. ‘And the other reason?’

  The female smiled again, amused, it seemed, by Siraay’s persistence. ‘And the other reason is that, with you as queen, I would have a higher standing than I do now.’

  Siraay tilted her head as she considered the female archon. ‘You are already an archon—the spymaster—you wish to change that position?’

  Renhed tilted her head, the short ends of her black hair brushing against her chin. ‘In a way. Think of it more as having further value placed on my position.’ She smiled again, the toothy smile of a cunning predator. ‘I want more influence.’

  So that was it. ‘Chezran already listens to you,’ Siraay stated. She had seen it the evening before at the council session.

  Renhed held up a finger. ‘He does, but it wars with the opinions of others—especially when the chief archon weighs in on a discussion.’

  Siraay eyed the spymaster more closely, beginning to understand what was behind this conversation. ‘So what do you want from me, then?’

  This seemed to be the question the archon had been waiting for, and Renhed straightened, taking a step towards Siraay, before she paused again. ‘I want you to support my ideas, back my decisions, and encourage Lord Chezran to listen to advice I provide.’

  Siraay crossed her arms, regarding the spymaster evenly. ‘That will be difficult,’ she answered carefully. ‘I’ve been here barely a day.’

  Renhed nodded. ‘And already you’ve gained an equal, if not higher, footing than Archon Atalia, who has been trying hard for seasons to win Lord Chezran. This plan helps both of us.’

  Siraay grew more still as she considered the female’s offer. ‘And what do I receive in return for helping you?’

  Renhed’s grin was much wider this time. ‘Knowledge. I’ll help you understand this place, the alliances, and the people here, and use my networks to your advantage. In return, you help boost my standing with His Lordship.’

  Siraay raised her chin, considering the spymaster in a new light. Of course. Renhed would have eyes and ears both outside the palace and inside it. Would know what was happening before it happened. Would know everyone’s hidden secrets …

  And in return, all Siraay had to do was help Renhed tarnish Pyron’s standing a little and speak the praises of the spymaster in Chezran’s hearing.

  She smiled at Renhed. ‘Tell me about Pyron and Atalia.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  THERE WASN’T ENOUGH time for the spymaster to relate everything she deemed important about Siraay’s two rivals, so she gave a quick brief on both.

  Atalia was closer to Chezran’s age but, as Renhed had noted, lacked a certain amount of sense, even if her strategy and tactical skills were excellent. She, too, was eyeing off the position of Chezran’s right hand, or mate, but so far, Chezran had not elected to take anyone as a permanent addition to his bed.

  Atalia used her charm to keep the other archons on her side, but this didn’t really work with Renhed or the captains.

  This made Siraay ask, ‘Do any of you really like each other?’

  Renhed laughed, her voice tinkling like a creek moving over smooth rocks. ‘Some of us do, or as much as we can, given that, in this place, being friendly is always a risk. You never know who wants to take what you have.’

  Siraay gave the archon a pointed look, but Renhed raised her hands defensively.

  ‘At least I’m one of the honest ones.’

  ‘And what about Pyron?’

  ‘Well, as you can imagine, I’ve had my own healthy interest in Pyron for a while, yet he’s proven quite good at not revealing his background. So far, all I know is that Pyron has been working with Chezran for some time, but I can’t determine how long. I’ve had hints that it goes back to their youth, but I’ve found nothing yet to confirm that.’

  Renhed went to on to say that all the archons reported to Pyron, as well as to Chezran, but that the lord looked to Pyron for the deciding vote in any disputed advice before he acted.

  Siraay’s doubts about what Renhed was trying to achieve grew. ‘And you think you can somehow manage to drive a wedge between them?’

  The archon nodded confidently. ‘It can be done.’

  Siraay sighed. ‘Well, with time, yes.’

  Renhed grimaced, and Siraay glanced at her.

  ‘Did I miss something?’

  ‘It’s the time thing. We have until the end of the season until we move to attack the capital. And I need my standing increased before then.’

  Siraay regarded the other female incredulously. ‘The end of the season? That’s only forty days away! Four turns!’ She glared at Renhed. ‘And you didn’t think I needed that information until now?’

  Renhed shrugged. ‘I was going to tell you, eventually.’

  Siraay growled between her teeth. Yes, the spymaster had told her—after Siraay had already agreed to their bargain. She looked at the light spilling into the room. ‘I need to meet Chezran.’

  Renhed nodded and moved back to the door to open it. ‘I’ll come speak with you later tonight.’

  The spymaster escorted Siraay through the hallways and left her at the door to a new room, giving her a wink before she moved away again, her small figure disappearing quickly around the corner.

  Shaking her head at the spymaster’s audacity, Siraay raised her hand and knocked smartly on the door. In response, the door was opened from the inside, and she was greeted by a guard, who immediately stepped back and opened the door wider, announcing her to Chezran. ‘Lady Siraay, lord.’

  Stepping into the room, Siraay saw Chezran moving around behind a desk, a dark cape draped over his muscular frame. ‘No trouble finding the room at all?’

  So he didn’t know that the spymaster had escorted her down. Interesting. Time to test the waters. ‘Not at all. Archon Renhed was kind enough to show me the way.’

  ‘Was she, now?’ Chezran smirked. ‘I’m sure she also had a number of questions for you?’

  Siraay’s stomach tightened, but she let her smile grow wider. ‘She did. I’m guessing that’s just part of what makes her good at her job?’

  Chezran chuckled. ‘It is. And a good thing for us too—she usually knows about any threat before it has a chance to materialise.’

  There was her opening to start making good on her deal with Renhed. ‘Yes, I got the impression that she is very dedicated. Someone to keep close, then.’

  Chezran nodded thoughtfully at her words, and to break the slight tension she could feel, Siraay began checking out the room—something she seemed to be doing a lot of lately.

  This room was darker than others she had seen, owing to the fact that it didn’t have any external avenues for natural light to enter through. Instead, it was lit with smaller versions of the hanging chandeliers in the dining room, and a fire burned within a large open fireplace in one wall.

  Otherwise, the room bore all the modern touches she had come to know growing up in a city, and then some.

  Chezran noticed her observations and extended his hands outwards gracefully. ‘My study, if you will. Where only those I invite may enter.’

  Siraay turned back to him and let one side of her mouth curl up playfully. ‘I’ll consider it a privilege, then.’

  When the lord gave her a slow smile in return, she decided to push a little. ‘Now, I believe you mentioned something about increasing my knowledge?’ She put one hand on her hip, allowing the gesture to outline that side of her figure.

  Chezran nodded, still smiling. ‘I did promise that. Come with me, there are things I want to show you.’

  ***

  They spent the morning moving about the palace, Chezran showing Siraay the other major rooms she hadn’t yet visited and taking her out into the grounds of the residence.

  He revealed where they developed Xarcon technology, which, in many ways, was more advanced than the other cities, and Siraay paused when she noticed a line of technologists, Archon Nisos overseeing them, crafting the me
tal bands that helped indoctrinate the soldiers of Chezran’s army.

  Apparently, they were using the same silver-coloured metal that formed the core of Siraay’s necklace, except that her accessory was plated in gold.

  Chezran explained how the properties of the metal were able to block parts of the psyche and draw out those of the id, or the super subconscious, thereby allowing the more base drivers of a person to take over.

  A perfect mechanism to create an army that lusted for battle, took longer than normal to fatigue, and would never shy from the orders of their captains.

  An army she would help to lead.

  ‘And what about the drug you put in the captives’ food?’ she asked him. ‘A sort of test?’ This was the other thing she had been curious about, and she wondered about the purpose behind it.

  ‘In a way. It lets us see how those being inducted into the program react to a milder form of control—in essence, it magnifies the lust for battle, but it doesn’t enhance all the base desires or block out the other reasoning parts of the conscious that can affect a soldier’s performance in battle. And it doesn’t last.’

  Siraay nodded. ‘How long did it take to develop these?’ She waved her hand at the metal bracelets.

  ‘It took my father a whole lifetime to perfect them. He had a brilliant mind, you see. Perhaps if he had been leading the first army of Xarcon, we would not have lost.’

  Chezran shrugged lightly, but Siraay could detect a deeper emotion running underneath.

  ‘After a number of cycles had passed and our side had recovered somewhat from our defeat, my father spent a lot of time analysing how the battle had played out. He came to the conclusion that, while a better strategy might have allowed us to triumph, an army that is stronger, that can react faster, and that can defeat the enemy quickly in one-on-one combat, no matter the environment or strategy of the enemy, was an army that could not be defeated.’

  They walked down yet another row of technologists working quietly and efficiently.

  ‘First, he used stimulants on his own soldiers—those who wanted to fight for Xarcon. The results were mixed, but even after we refined the drug down to what it is today, doubt and other parts of the conscious mind fought against the parts we were trying to awaken. So my father kept pushing the science. He abducted a number of technologists from other cities, forcing them to help him develop something that could work with the drug.’