“Now, Kyra, let me explain the situation to you. You appreciate, I am sure, that my marriage is not a simple matter. Bennamore – indeed all the sun-blessed countries from the northern coast to the southern – keep themselves free from troublesome wars by strategic alliances. The heirs inter-marry and their heirs inter-marry with a different set of countries, and we are now so interwoven that no country can declare war on another without involving their own cousins. And there are trade agreements and so on as well. It is all very complicated, but effective. So I must marry someone from outside to continue the pattern. I spent most of last year in the southern ports, but that was never going to work. Too many tiny little holdings, all fiercely independent. An alliance with one of them would cause dissent rather than harmony. And the men—! Not my type, shall we say.
“Now my brother had better luck. Not where he was looking to find it, but still, he has his charming wife and a baby on the way, as well as all his drusse-born children. He is well ahead of me!” She laughed at herself, clearly not much bothered. “Then along comes Axandrei, and in addition to all his other charms – his considerable other charms—” She blushed girlishly, pausing to catch her breath. “He is Icthari, which is very useful. There has been no alliance in that direction for some time. Not that he is highly ranked amongst his own people – in fact, they seem to have very little concept of proper rank at all, but his family is as respectable as they come. The best of it is that he is the drusse-born son of a Kellon, raised and educated here in Bennamore, so it is not as if he were a savage. He is very able with a sword, too, which pleases the commanders. He has certainly impressed the nobles. However, there is just one problem. His father seems to have some trouble siring children, and that is not an acceptable situation for the husband of the Bai-Drashonor.”
“Ah,” I said, swallowing a mouthful of cake and setting the rest down on my plate.
“I see you have recognised the import. The nobles are insisting that he prove his fertility before they will agree to the marriage, and this is where you come in – a drusse already pregnant is perfect.”
I crumbled my cake, frowning. Perfect for her, maybe. Perfect for Drei. Scheming, devious Drei, using me to further his own ambitions. At least she knew about the pregnancy. That was a relief – one less secret to worry about. I hated secrets.
“You are not best pleased about it, I know. You agreed to no children, so to find yourself pregnant by accident...”
“Accident! Is that what he told you?”
She coloured a little. “Yes. You mean...?”
“He was – not entirely open. Drei replaced my herbs with something else, something ineffective. It was anything but an accident.”
“Oh.” A long silence, then a sigh. “I should not be surprised, I suppose. He is young, ambitious, impatient. It is one of his attractions, that we are alike in so many respects. We are both of us ruthless.”
“You, Highness?” My eyes were wide.
“Oh yes. Did you think I came to be Bai-Drashonor by sitting quietly with my tapestry? No, I had to work at it, I had to be better than the rest, I had to shine, but unlike Axandrei I have had time to learn subtlety in my methods. I would be Drashonor now if I had not had the misfortune of an older brother who got himself noticed first. If I had been the elder... But no matter. He is confirmed, and that is an end to it. So Axandrei got you pregnant, and then when that was not sufficient to persuade you, he kidnapped you.” Another, deeper sigh. “He is a foolish boy. You are not, I think, a person to be forced into anything.”
“Can’t be forced,” I muttered, spraying bits of pastry over my trousers. “A contract signed under duress is invalid in law.”
She laughed at that. “Of course! You are a good scribe, Kyra. You always were. Well, I am sorry you have been so distressed. I will teach Axandrei better ways in time. He will learn that negotiation is more rational than force. So let us negotiate. What we want from you is the child in your belly, no more than that. However, it must be done cleanly, with a proper contract so that Axandrei has the rights. If he takes another drusse as well – one of my waiting women is quite keen – we can have two babes on the way in no time, and no reason for the nobles to hesitate. How far along are you, by the way?”
Awkward question. A matter of a few suns, but I could hardly say so. The plate shook in my hands and a few crumbs dribbled over the edge. “I’m not sure,” I said. I wasn’t good at deception.
She was unsuspicious. “Quite early, I suppose. We can have the mages examine you to determine the exact state, if you wish.” If I wish! I most certainly did not wish. Who knew what they might find if they looked?
“So, Kyra, you know what we want. Now tell me what you want in exchange.”
“I don’t want Drei to touch me.” I didn’t even have to think about that, and it came out more fiercely than I’d intended.
She didn’t blink. “Agreed. No need, since you are already pregnant.”
“It’ll be awkward, though,” I said. “The apartment – there’s only the one bedroom.”
“Oh, that is easily addressed. You can have an apartment here with your own bedroom. I will make sure he does not bother you. If he takes a second drusse, you know, he will be spending much of his time elsewhere. Anything else?”
It never occurred to her that I would refuse, that perhaps I might want to take my baby and leave all of them behind. And it was an odd thing, but the very situation which had so appalled me when Drei proposed it seemed so much more acceptable discussed in this rational way. I give them a few moons of my time, and then they take away the baby that I’d never really wanted anyway. After that, I could live my own life – whatever that might be. And at once I knew what to ask for.
“I want to be a law scribe,” I said. “I want to be a proper contract scribe again and go back to the scribery and carry on training.”
Silence. “Hmm. Tricky.” A longer silence. “You understand that you are asking for your penalty to be set aside? That is not something that is within my powers.”
Well, she’d asked what I wanted and I’d told her. I couldn’t do more than that.
But she surprised me. “It might be possible,” she said slowly. “If I make a personal request for clemency... You would be surprised how often a harsh punishment is quietly set aside after a little while, once an example has been made. I know my father was unhappy with the case, so I do believe it could be done, if I speak for you, and Axandrei, of course. In a few moons, perhaps. There is no rush, is there? But then, once the baby is born, you would be able to find proper work. Not here, and not at Ardamurkan, but some other town, where you would not be known.”
Excitement fizzed through me. I would be reinstated! I would get my gold chains back and be able to write spellpages again and be a proper scribe. I barely listened to the rest – the details of the story that would be put about to account for my bedraggled appearance at her party, the type of contract, what I was to do, what Drei would do, what she would do. It drifted over my head like clouds. I would be able to go back to the scribery and learn to be a personal scribe and then perhaps a law scribe, and my accumulated drusse allowance would enable me to pay my own way without a patron—
Grief washed over me, stinging like icy hailstones. How could I have forgotten Cal? Whatever became of me in the future, it would never be the same without him. I hadn’t yet had time to grieve for him, for within hours of his death I had been shocked to find myself pregnant, and not long after that Drei whisked me away. But now perhaps I would have a few quiet moons to recover, to remember the short time we’d had together and the happiness I’d found with him. I wondered uneasily if the child I carried was his. I might never know for sure. I wondered if his disappearance had been noticed yet. Surely they would be looking for him by now.
I let Yannassia rattle away and devise her plans. She was an efficient organiser, and before night fell she had found a new apartment for Drei and me, a vast place in the style of her own suite. I
had my own bedroom, a dressing room with wardrobes and drawers and closets, a private water bucket room and even my own secluded sitting room, where I could retreat with my books. Two of Yannassia’s own scribes sat down with me to begin devising a suitable drusse contract to my liking. An army of servants was dispatched to fetch all our things from the old apartment and they contrived to have everything functioning in time for evening board. Drei even apologised rather handsomely for his behaviour, and promised to leave me alone. He had always had a certain charm about him, even if he no longer charmed me.
It was too good to last, of course.
Barely two suns later, when I had only just hung all my azai on their new hooks, folded my scarves neatly away in drawers and arranged my books on the shelves to my satisfaction, I received a summons. For the second time in my life, I was to be examined by the Drashon in the matter of illegal use of magic.
This time I would be lucky to escape with my life.
24: Bound
It was Drei’s mother who lit this particular bonfire. It would have suited everyone if she’d simply stayed at home and said nothing at all about sleep spells or magically unlocked doors, but no, she had to shout it to the world. She had no sense, that one. She came storming into Kingswell telling everyone who’d listen that I’d spelled the whole household, that I was a witch and possessed by evil demons and who knows what else.
It couldn’t be ignored. So once again I had to face the Drashon, and this time I would find it very difficult to protest my innocence, for this time the accusation was true.
I had no more than a couple of hours’ notice of the trial. It was called a hearing, since it was not yet decided whether there was any case to answer, but to me it felt exactly like a proper trial. There would be accusations and questions, and I had no idea how to answer them. Should I simply run? Take off for the Imperial City, perhaps? But hiding was no solution and while there was still a chance of emerging unscathed I should go along with it. Flight was a confirmation of guilt, not a sign of innocence.
Drei was barely coherent with nerves. If anything he was more terrified than I was. I’d asked him to choose an appropriate outfit for me – he was so much better at that sort of thing – and as he fingered his way through my not inconsiderable collection, he showered me with advice. “Don’t say anything, nothing at all, understand? They can’t make you. Just tell him you have nothing to say. Let them make the case, you don’t have to defend yourself. Look innocent. Look aggrieved, you know? Just don’t say a thing.”
I knew what was bothering him most. “Don’t worry, I won’t drag you into this if I can avoid it.”
He wasn’t reassured. We both knew that if the mages got hold of me and interrogated me, I might tell them everything. Probably would. There was no defence against them. Hopefully I would have warning of it, and that would be the time to run. If it came to a proper trial, Drei would have a fast carriage organised for me and I could go – somewhere. I wasn’t sure if anywhere was safe from the mages.
Drei chose for me a deep turquoise woollen tunic with matching trousers, very plain but with those elegant details that scream expensive – tiny buttons, almost invisible embroidery on the hems, little tucks and flares that enhanced my shape without looking gaudy. He wrapped my head scarves himself, better than the servants. Then he went and changed his own coat so his colours wouldn’t clash with mine. He cared about my appearance almost as much as he cared about his own.
The Drashon had a special hearings chamber, a large square room lined and furnished in a severe dark wood, the walls draped with tapestries and a couple of flags, all in sombre colours, or perhaps greyed with age. Despite a vast array of perfumed candles, the effect was overwhelmingly depressing, like being in a giant box, and just as airless. Around the outside, rows of tiered seats for the idly curious of the court were filled almost to capacity. Inside, four sets of chairs made up a smaller square.
The Drashon, his heirs and advisors sat on one side of the inner square, I sat to his left, and on his right, facing me, five law scribes and five mages, the most senior and powerful in the realm. That was depressing, too. All the mages held their vessels, and I wondered if any of them would know if I lied. The Ardamurkan mages were frauds, but these were probably far more adept. I dared not risk it. I was going to have to be very careful.
Drei’s family, my accusers, sat to my left, opposite the Drashon. Apart from Drei’s mother, practically hissing with hatred when she saw me, his brother and sister were there, and one of the kitchen servants – the one I’d found in a heap on the floor. Drei, bless him, sat with me, glaring at his mother. Such family harmony. His mother could surely not be aware just how badly her actions might damage her eldest son.
Drei’s mother opened the proceedings. I could say that it wasn’t the most lucid account of events, but that would hardly do it justice. She ranted and stormed and strode about, waving one hand in the air. Once she actually shook her fist at me. I was a witch and an enchanter and a child of demons, a summoner of evil spirits, who should burn in the shades of Beyond and not be let loose amongst innocent people. I forget the half of it.
The crowd behind her displayed astonishment and amusement in equal measure. No one seemed horrified by any of it, but then the matter of the sleep spell was lost in a sea of other accusations, and she said nothing about the locked door. I’m not sure what the Drashon made of it, for his face betrayed no emotion other than a fractionally raised eyebrow at a particularly vitriolic turn of phrase, but I was pleasantly surprised. I hadn’t thought the woman capable of such violent emotions, but it certainly worked in my favour. No one was likely to take the ravings of a madwoman seriously.
The brother was a little more sober, but not much more convincing. He described how he had woken to find himself on the floor, and the afternoon all but gone, with the locked door at the bottom of the steps wide open. That part wasn’t true, I’d taken great care to leave all the doors as I found them, but I tried very hard not to show surprise or indignation. His only evidence that he’d been spelled, though, was that he was on guard duty. “I am always good guard,” he said firmly. “Never sleep on duty. Never sleep in afternoon. Never sleep on floor. Must be enchantment.”
The sister was far more worrying. I’d thought her about sixteen, but in the brilliant light of the chamber, lit by a thousand candles, she looked younger – perhaps only fourteen. She spoke fluently and with conviction, describing how she had been at her stitching in her room when she felt a tingling warmth all over. “The air sparkled,” she said. “It was like lots of tiny stars in the air.” The next thing she knew, she was on the floor, cold and stiff, with a bump on the head and the sewing frame fallen into the fire. The mages sat up a little straighter at that. A tingling warmth? That sounded a lot like magic, although I’d never heard of anyone spelled seeing stars.
The servant was petrified to find herself in such surroundings and although the Drashon questioned her in the gentlest way imaginable and Drei’s mother reminded her loudly of what she was supposed to say, she mumbled and whispered and eventually burst into tears.
The Drashon asked a few more questions, and one of the law scribes asked about the locked door – why was it locked? And could they be sure it had been locked before they all fell asleep? Smart lady. Those were very good questions, and she got no sensible answers. Luckily for all of us, Drei’s mother was reluctant to explain why her son’s drusse was being kept locked up in a basement.
Eventually, the Drashon turned to me. “Lady Scribe Kyra, you have heard these accounts. Is there anything you wish to say?”
I rose to my feet, hoping my face reflected only calmness. “Nothing, Highness. I don’t understand how I’m supposed to have spelled anyone while locked up in a basement.”
Laughter rippled round the room.
The Drashon nodded. “An excellent point. Lord Mage Krayfon? Is such a thing possible?”
Krayfon was surprisingly young to be the most senior mage in Kings
well, and therefore the realm. He was a handsome man of no more than forty, well-built, wearing his robes with graceful style. His vessel was a sphere of marble, the same green as in the pillars, and small enough to fit into the palm of his hand. He rose and bowed to the Drashon. When he spoke, his voice was soft and melodious, but held the attention of everyone in the room.
“For a mage, Highness, such a matter would be possible, although far from trivial. For a contract scribe...” He looked at me appraisingly. “Undoubtedly spellpages could be scribed to achieve such an effect, but even with the proper materials it would be a most complicated procedure. To spell the entire household to sleep simultaneously, for several hours, and then to unlock the door – these are scribings of the highest calibre, almost inconceivable in anyone below the rank of thought mage, Highness. I should be most interested to meet the person who could manage it.”
You’re looking at her, I thought. I tried to keep my face bland, but I could feel a smile wanting to break out. Such a compliment!
“Could anyone else have spelled the household?” the Drashon said.
“Again, it is extremely unlikely. For myself, I would suspect the noon board, which I notice was not provided for Lady Scribe Kyra.”
The Fire Mages Page 26