Heroes' Reward

by Moira J. Moore

  We got back into the palace the same way we’d left: through the kitchen. The sleeping staff had gone, possibly roused to protect the Emperor or control the guests in the palace. The door had been left unlocked. Apparently no one had thought to check it, possibly assuming it was still locked after whatever night time procedures they normally observed.

  The hall to our room was very active, too, but not just with servants. Many were members of the court granted the favour of living in the palace, demanding to know what had happened and complaining about having been awakened in the middle of the night. Taro and I had to dodge around to avoid the moving bodies, but no one seemed to notice us slip through our barely opened door.

  Once the door was closed behind us, and we stood in the darkness of our chambers, I started shaking. I couldn’t believe we’d just freed Tarce from under the nose of the Emperor.

  We scrubbed the powder off our foreheads and reappeared.

  “We should get into bed,” Taro suggested. “Just wait until tomorrow, pretend to get up in the morning, and act like we have no idea what happened.”

  “I don’t know if I’m a good enough actor for that,” I muttered.

  I hated this. So much.

  As I started taking off my tunic, I found it sticking to my arms. I had to peel it off. What the hell? I rubbed the fabric between my fingers. It felt damp, but not with water. I sniffed it. It smelled like blood. “Something’s wrong.”

  We took the risk of lighting some candles – surely people would think it reasonable that we were up and about, with all the noise just outside our door? – and that was the first time we realised we were both spattered with blood.

  Now that I knew about it, I could feel it drying on my skin, drying through my clothing. I could smell it. I could taste it. I felt sick.

  “Are you all right?” Taro asked.

  “It’s not mine. You?”

  “Just the blood of people hacked to pieces in my immediate vicinity.”

  I didn’t think I’d ever be able to drive the visions out of my head.

  Taro plucked at his sleeve. “We’ll have to clean these. We can’t let anyone else see the blood. The maids will get suspicious and report us to someone.”

  “We don’t have the means to launder them,” I pointed out. “Not well enough to get all the blood out. And nothing would get the stains out of my braid, no matter what we did. We’ll have to burn them.”

  We stripped off and threw the clothing in the fireplace in our bedchamber. We piled upon them every scrap of kindling we had and added some lantern oil as well. The scent of the resulting fire was nasty, so we opened the window and hoped that would clear out the room.

  Then I realised, “I don’t think we can burn our boots down to nothing.”

  “Washing and polishing them should do the trick.”

  I sniffed one of them. They weren’t soaked, and though they did smell of blood, I agreed that the scent of polish would probably hide the odour. I felt the sole. It was dry, possibly wiped clean by all the running around we did with Tarce after we’d gotten out of the prison. Some blood flaked off from between the treads, though.

  We scrubbed the boots and then ourselves. All with cold water, because we didn’t have the means to quickly heat it. Our abulations demanded effort I was almost too sickened and exhausted to expend. Washing our hair out was positively painful. But at least we had a huge supply of water – the plumbing in the castle was confusing but efficient – and a drain to carry the evidence away.

  My heart literally stopped – it must have – at the loud pounding on our door. Bang bang bang bang bang!

  “Source Karish! Shield Mallorough!”

  I didn’t recognize the voice.

  We swore and ran to our bed, scrambling for our nightgowns.

  Bang bang bang bang bang! “Karish! Mallorough!”

  I nearly strangled myself with the collar of my nightgown, pulling it down just before Taro opened the door to the corridor. I closed the door to the bedchamber as I left it.

  A Guard stood on the other side, carrying a lantern. He looked at Taro, from top to bottom, and then me, from top to bottom. “My apologies, Source, Shield.” He didn’t sound apologetic at all. “I was wondering if you were here.”

  “Where else would we be?” Taro asked.

  “Everyone else has been in the halls asking questions. Are you saying you slept through it all? You didn’t hear anything?”

  “No, we heard. Of course.”

  “But you weren’t curious about it?”

  “Not really.” Taro frowned. “It’s none of our business.”

  “Never knew that to stop anyone from asking questions.”

  Taro shrugged. “We’re Triple S. If it’s not an event, it’s not relevant.”

  I thought Taro might have been pushing the portrayal of indifference just a little far, with that.

  “It’s not relevant,” the Guard echoed slowly.

  “Unless you think it is. Is there something you think we should be doing? Has the Emperor sent for us?”

  “No.”

  After a few moments, Taro said, “Oh,” with the tone of someone who thought the conversation should be over but was too polite to say so.

  “Don’t wander out for a while yet,” the Guard warned us. “There are some uncanny happenings tonight, and you don’t want to get mixed up with the wrong people.”

  Tarce’s trial had certainly taught us the dangers of that. “No, certainly not. Thank you.”

  The Guard gave us each another thorough look, then nodded. “Good night, then.”

  He hadn’t noticed our wet hair. Perhaps it had looked only messy in the dim light of the lantern.

  Really, right then, I didn’t care. “Damn it, I’m freezing.” I ran to the bedchamber and jumped on the bed, diving under the sheets and blankets. Which were frigid. I swore and threw back the bedding. “I’m sitting by the fire.” It wasn’t as though I’d actually be able to sleep.

  All those people, trying to kill each other.

  It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

  Chapter Fifteen

  The following day, we weren’t allowed out of our chambers. From the shouted objections we could hear from the halls, I assumed no one else was allowed out, either. No one came in, so there was no opportunity to get food or drink. Not that I was hungry. My stomach was too tight with tension to accommodate food.

  We couldn’t burn the book. We’d used all of our wood destroying our clothes. We couldn’t burn the keys, either. So we stuck it all up the chimney. It was all we could think to do.

  In time, I slept. I had nightmares.

  I dreaded getting the news of what had happened at the prison. The number of casualties would be frightful. Any surviving rioters would no doubt be arrested themselves, given a perfunctory trial, and promptly executed. And the Emperor’s paranoia would be revived, possibly intensified. We might get our own personal escort again.

  The day after that, we were fed just before being summoned to the throne room, where Gifford, Green, servants, and a large collection of titleholders and Council members had been gathered.

  There were no polite greetings.

  “Lord Tarce escaped from Findon Prison last night,” the Emperor informed Taro. “This is a cause for some annoyance.”

  “I can only imagine, Your Majesty,” Taro responded.

  “You are aware of this, then?”

  Oops.

  “People were speaking of it in the corridor outside our suite.”

  The Emperor seemed to find the explanation reasonable. “Lord Tarce was your cousin.”

  The use of the past tense was disturbing. Tarce had gotten away, hadn’t he? No one had caught up with him, had they?

  “Yes, Your Majesty.”

  “One might understand if you felt perturbed by the sentence given to Lord Tarce after his trial.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty, but the crimes committed by my cousin against Your Majesty were most foul.
”

  I held back a cough. Claw back on the poetry, my love.

  Taro continued, “No one can expect to evade responsibility for their illegal actions, including my kin. I understand that.”

  “And if Lady Westsea should be found responsible for any crime? You would accept her punishment, as well?”

  Was the Emperor thinking of laying complaints against her?

  Taro didn’t even hesitate. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  “You showed great loyalty to her during your stay at Flown Raven. You followed her orders.”

  “I was required to obey the highest nearby titleholder.”

  There was a sort of satisfaction in being able to throw another person’s words back in his face.

  “Did you pay someone to arrange Lord Tarce’s escape from prison?”

  Taro looked shocked. “I have no money, Your Majesty. Sources never have any coin.”

  “Did you promise someone anything else?”

  “I have nothing of value to give anyone, Your Majesty.”

  “Except your face and form.”

  I stared at the floor to prevent myself from glaring at Gifford.

  “I am getting older, Your Majesty. Things don’t come as easily to me as they once did.”

  “Ah.” The Emperor paused to think a moment.

  Lady Green put a hand on his wrist.

  This seemed to prompt him to speak. “We understand it is unlikely that you would violate your own oath to us. You’re known to be an honourable man. For the most part.”

  For the most part? What did that mean?

  “We know you were not in a position to make arrangements for the assault on the prison.”

  Then why were we there?

  “You were in your chambers while the riot was ongoing.”

  Yes, things would no doubt have gotten nasty if our chambers had been found empty.

  “At this time We are, unfortunately, unable to spare people to hunt for Lord Tarce beyond the city limits,” the Emperor went on. “If you see Lord Tarce within the city, you will not speak to him. You will inform the Imperial Guard immediately. Do you understand?”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  So we were going to be allowed out of the palace again. Excellent. I was finding the walls suffocating.

  But far more important, Gifford wasn’t going to exert any resources to find Tarce, despite the ludicrous list of allegations for which he had been found responsible. That didn’t seem a decision characteristic of Gifford, just letting something slide like that. Had Green influenced him in some way?

  “Of course, if Lord Tarce is found, he will be thoroughly questioned in order to determine the details of his escape.”

  And a nice little threat just to add some spice to the conversation.

  “Your words have reassured Us.”

  Thank Zaire.

  “However, We have many more We must speak with on this matter, many in whom We can’t afford to show such confidence.”

  If he was talking about everyone involved, it would be hundreds, I imagined. Did the Emperor intend to speak with all of them? That would take, I didn’t know, weeks, maybe. Did the Emperor not have any work to do?

  “We will need you to attend.”

  Why? Must we? I didn’t know if I could bear listening to the Emperor twist the words of every accused into illogical interpretations.

  That was cowardly. We had been spared. The very least we could do was watch … other people get rolled over? Was that really any better? I had no idea.

  Didn’t matter. We didn’t have a choice.

  Gifford gestured at Taro. “Now be so good as to bring Ourselves and Lady Green servings of Snow Drop wine. We know you’re aware of where to procure it. You assisted Our mother in this fashion.”

  There were a dozen servants in the room who could have been sent to perform this task. It was what they were paid for. But the Emperor wanted to make sure Taro knew his place.

  Taro strode over to what I assumed was the appropriate door, appearing happy to fulfill Gifford’s order.

  Stare at the floor, stare at the floor, stare at the floor.

  The next several moments were awkward. No one said anything. I was stuck standing in the middle of the floor. I was out in the open and everyone was ignoring me.

  Not that I wanted anyone’s attention. I would have loved to be able to slither off to the side of the room.

  Taro returned shortly, carrying a silver tray with a decanter of wine and two goblets. A maid walked in behind him with a small table. The maid set the table beside the Emperor’s throne and Taro placed the tray upon it. He poured the wine into one goblet and offered it to the Emperor with a bow. “Your Majesty.”

  When he presented the other goblet to Lady Green, his bow wasn’t as deep. This was appropriate according to protocol, but I had the feeling Lady Green was displeased with it.

  “You may remain,” the Emperor said, gesturing beside his throne. “In case We require further service. Order your Shield to join you.”

  And that was meant to put me in my place. Taro didn’t actually give me an order, of course. I just stepped up beside him.

  “Lord Escan Flane,” the Emperor announced.

  Two Guards left the room briefly, dragging an older gentleman in when they returned. It was clear that he had been beaten.

  What followed was heartbreaking.

  Flane was questioned about his possible participation in the riot at the prison. This he denied. Gifford claimed disbelief, due to the fact that Flane had an acquaintence in the prison, awaiting execution. Flane was found cupable of treason, murder, and destruction of Crown property. He was sentenced to be executed and his estate was repossessed by the Crown.

  This was not a trial. Had the Emperor decided they just weren’t necessary anymore?

  Flane offered no resistance to the Guards when they pulled him out of the room. He appeared resigned.

  “Lady Rivernet,” the Emperor called.

  When the young woman was hauled in, I recognized her as one who had renewed her oaths of loyalty. She had been given the post of Minister of Height Licensing. There had already been a Minister of Construction Licensing, which would include regulating the height of new buildings. I was pretty sure the post had been made up on the spot, and had no actual power.

  Instead of the grilling Flane had received, Rivernet was asked a handful of questions, and none of her answers appeared to be doubted. At the end of her very brief interview, she was declared innocent of any illegal activity and was rewarded with the estate that had formerly been Flane’s.

  Had she really been suspected of any offence, or was this display meant to make a point?

  As the slew of victims was subjected to the Emperor’s attention, the pattern became apparent. Those who had sworn the recent oaths were lobbed a few easy questions and released. Those who hadn’t were subject to a list of leaps of wild illogic and found responsible for whatever crime the Emperor thought of at the moment, then sentenced to execution. It was horrible.

  The assets of those who were found culpable were usually given to those who were not.

  When, finally, the last person was dismissed, the Emperor turned to Taro. “We appreciate your participation as a witness to these proceedings. We are confident you will provide an excellent recounting of events when required.”

  Yes we would. An accurate recounting. To the Triple S and anyone else we could find who was sane.

  “Erstwhile Source Karish,” Gifford continued. “Given the loyalty you have shown since your arrival, the oath you swore, your honest contribution to Lord Tarce’s trial, and your resistence to the temptation – which must have been strong – to attempt to assist Lord Tarce in his escape, We feel confident you will honourably perform the task for which you were truly summoned. Erstwhile Source Karish, you will instruct Our Pairs in those unique skills We have heard so much about. Erstwhile Shield Mallorough, you will instruct Our casters. We must and will have Pair
s and casters superior to those of the Triple S, to demonstrate our superior inborn might.”

  On the one hand, the idea of teaching those people anything made me ill. On the other, we would learn what they could do, and perhaps find ways to make sure they didn’t progress.

  “You may go.”

  My feet and legs were so stiff and sore I stumbled with my first step and nearly fell on my face. My instinctive reaction to recover my balance was one I almost regretted. Perhaps if I had demonstrated such a ridiculous display of clumsiness, the Emperor would have decided I was just too incompetent to be instructing his casters, and let Taro and me go home.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The next morning, an Imperial Guard took me to a part of Erstwhile I had never seen before: a small lawn – surrounded by a wall, of course – with a square building of dark stone and small windows, grim and depressing in the cold rain. Did the casters live there? Was that why I rarely saw them?

  I was led to a plain wooden square of a room occupied eighteen people I assumed were casters, who all stopped talking and looked at me as I entered.

  I pulled in a deep breath. “Good day, everyone. I’m Shield Dunleavy Mallorough.”

  “Erstwhile Shield Dunleavy Mallorough,” an older gentleman corrected me. “That’s your proper title.”

  Fine. I didn’t care. “Thank you for the amendment. May I know your name?”

  He nodded. “Caster Quennel Dench.”

  That was the first time I’d heard anyone use the word ‘caster’ as a title.

  And then he bowed. That was all kinds of wrong.

  It got worse. Every single one of them bowed as they introduced themselves.

  And they all used ‘caster’ as a title. That was almost as disturbing. It was as though they’d erased their former lives.

  Each one was respectful. Some even smiled. It put me off my stride. I’d been expecting them all to be hostile. “I’d like to observe you all for a time as you perform what casts you can, so I can see where your skills are.”

  And undermine all of them.

  Everyone was swift to agree. They separated and began searching through their ingredients. I wandered around and watched them. It quickly became clear that they were not particularly talented, nor particularly well taught.