One Land, One Duke

by Emerson, Ru

  "I did oppose you; God help me, I'd do it again to keep myself or anyone else alive. I'm not foolish enough to hesitate to defend against a man like you. But the time for violence is over, it's done with, Jadek. I've had enough. I'm not fighting anyone—not you, not anyone. Not like that—” She shoved the bo hard with her foot, sending it rattling across the floor. “Not ever again, without dire cause. But absolutely, not now."

  She couldn't tell if people were whispering again, or if it was only the noise in her ears. Jadek gazed at her for what seemed forever, his face a blank. Dahven pulled her away then, out of the open, turning her so he was between her and Jadek; his face was unreadable, his eyes fixed on Aletto; but his arm was warm and reassuringly tight. Jennifer leaned into him and sighed. I think I made an ass of myself, she thought; at the moment, she really didn't care. It felt as though an enormous weight had fallen from her shoulders.

  When she turned to look once more, she'd lost several moments: Jadek had gone over to speak with the merchants, and, whatever he was saying, it looked urgent. He stepped back from a number of very worried-looking men, strode across the room once more. Chris started and went into an alert crouch as the man reached inside the blue robe. Jadek freed a long dark cord with a rough silver sphere knotted onto it. He cast Chris a shrug and a faint smile, then turned to address the entire room.

  "My niece was a very inferior novice Wielder when she left Duke's Fort; most here know how many years she toiled for no gain. And now, have you not heard the rumors? And you men who came with them from Podhru, have you not seen the attack she made upon one of your number? She Shapes Light! I doubted, for we all know Wielders hold Light to be anathema. But look at her, she not only Shapes but she has found a way to infect Thread with Light."

  "Because you—!” Lialla began furiously, but Jadek overrode her.

  "I do not doubt she will try to lay that at my door also! Or perhaps she will deny it. But, she herself has said, any wielder of any magic can sense Light; and while I deny that I am such a man, I do wear a protective charm.” He held up the knobby bit of silver. “Now, this was bought in Sehfi's market; its design and content are clearly known to the woman who constructed and imbued it. This charm tells me beyond doubt the sin-Duchess is contaminated with unspeakable power—one she actively sought, one she deliberately blended with what little clean magic she was able to learn.

  "Even if I dared trust the boy, would any sane man feel safe around this girl?"

  "You speak of dares—!” Lialla cried out in a shrill, furious voice as she strode forward; Chris grabbed for her sleeve, missed and swore loudly. “I do deny everything you have said!"

  "Then I shall give you the proof,” Jadek shouted, topping her with volume; for one moment, no one could understand what either said. Chris threw himself after Lialla and this time caught her by the waist, dragging her back from Jadek; Lialla swung wildly, furiously trying to hit him, to break his grip. All at once she froze, eyes fixed on her uncle, and then she screamed.

  Jadek held the sphere between them and it began to glow: The two men behind him backed hastily away; others nearby dropped flat. Jennifer could hear people running across the floor at the far end of the room, the door they'd entered by slamming against the wall, the sound echoing down the long corridor. Lizelle staggered to her feet with a wild cry of her own, breaking Robyn's hold on her hands.

  A dull, ruddy Light and a foul smell spiraled out from the charm. Dahven tried to drag Jennifer away and tripped over someone's arm; both of them fell. When she got her breath back and her head from under his chest, she could see Lizelle moving unsteadily across the floor. “No, don't, please—!” Her voice was thin and high, hardly carrying any distance at all, but Lialla heard it. With a cry of her own, she closed the distance between them and spun around, placing herself squarely between her uncle's spell and her mother.

  Robyn came running then, and threw her arms around Lizelle, pinning her arms at her sides and swinging her around, completely off her feet. Lizelle tried to fight her way free, but she wasn't any match for Robyn. The two women went staggering back and Robyn's heel caught on the edge of the dais. She sat with a thump and a grunt of forcibly expelled air. Lizelle fell on her face and didn't move.

  Jadek's voice rose over the almost unbearable noise level: “I warned you all; look at her! See the charm's reaction!"

  "You lie!” Lialla screamed back at him. “That's no simple market charm! Stay clear, all of you, it'll kill any of you on touch!” She needn't have worried, except for Chris, and Edrith who now guarded his back against any sneak attack by one of Jadek's men, no one came anywhere near her. Even Aletto had backed hastily away from the slowly advancing, spinning mass, though he hadn't gone very far. Lialla braced herself against Chris, brought up both hands, snatching at Thread, overlaying it with Light. She set her teeth, pushed sharply with her palms and blew, hard. Jadek's spiral flattened and spun back in on itself. Lialla shoved an elbow into Chris's ribs, sending him back a step and she pivoted against him, clapped her hands twice, hard. Something dark and glowing sped past her and across the chamber, across the corner of the dais. It went through the far window with a crash of breaking glass. Smoke rose from the broken pane; the wooden frame was smoldering.

  Someone ran to deal with the fire, smothering it with cloths from the table. Jennifer let Dahven help her to her feet just as one of Afronsan's clerks pushed his way to the front of the room, followed by the red-and-gold-clad observers. The man's face was set in lines of outrage, and two of the observers now held drawn swords.

  "Shame, sir, for shame!” The clerk's voice was thin and high and it trembled with anger. “To unleash such violence!"

  "I?” Jadek ran a hand across his forehead. Jennifer stared at him. He was even paler than he had been, and she wondered if he was going to faint or be sick. His face was slick with sweat; the blue robe was dark in patches under his arms, down his chest. His voice was rough, as though he was having trouble breathing. Riddled with Light. Lialla was right; the man might not yet be dead, but he was very ill—and he was only now beginning to realize it.

  Afronsan's men came between Jadek and Lialla; she moved aside, Chris following her like a shadow, so that she could continue to watch the man. If she felt satisfaction—anything—it didn't show. She stood very still and watched. Chris glanced quickly around, met Jennifer's eyes meaningfully. Jennifer nodded, hoping she'd understood him. It wasn't difficult to figure anyway. All that pretty speech I made, and all for nothing? Lialla wasn't certain her uncle had been neutralized; Chris was suspicious. Guess you don't get to turn pacifist yet, Cray, she told herself. Not until this guy's wrapped up in pretty paper and ribbon and gone.

  "That was unwise. Uncle,” Aletto said. He held up a hand for silence and got it; the room was full and those in it utterly still. “To follow your earlier pattern in the presence of the Emperor's men?” He looked over at Afronsan's angry clerk. “Sir, I don't know your instructions—"

  The old man turned his head to glare at him. “In the event of violence by either party? The Emperor does not countenance violence in matters of succession! This act has clearly removed your cause from the realm of Duchy business, Honor Aletto. You, Honor Jadek,” he said crisply, “will accompany us to Podhru. There the entire matter will be thoroughly gone into, in detail.” He paused for comment, but Jadek simply stood blinking at him as though dazed. Aletto nodded once and stepped back. Another of the observers came forward with fetters but the clerk waved them aside. “Honor Jadek will surrender such—market charms—as he possesses into our hands. Upon that, we will not consider him any threat, nor shame him with bonds.” Jennifer caught hold of Dahven's arm and squeezed; when she glanced up he gave her a reassuring smile but he'd gone pale.

  Jadek swallowed hard, wet his lips, finally nodded. “I deny any intent of harm on my part, here and now. And I call upon those who witnessed events to recall when I have need, that it was my niece who created a counterspell that rendered mine violent."r />
  "Make note of Honor Jadek's statement,” the old man said over his shoulder. The other clerk was walking slowly forward, eyes shifting from his comrades to the portable desk that hung from a shoulder strap and pressed into his hip; it was fitted with a thick, string-bound sheaf of paper, and he was busily writing as he walked. He nodded, dipped a fat pen into ink and went on scribbling. Jennifer set her teeth as the man paused next to her and his metal pen scraped unpleasantly across paper; she breathed a sigh of relief as he kept going. “We have already noted all previous statements. Honor. You will be permitted to instruct your personal servants to pack clothing for you, and whatever funds you require.” Jadek nodded again and his shoulders sagged.

  Jennifer eased herself into contact with Thread and, for want of a better idea, clutched at the red Lialla had first shown her. It throbbed in her grasp, numbing her fingertips, but there was no doubt which of those around her was Jadek. Light spilled from him in thin runnels; it all at once reminded her of the way blood had run from her cut arm and she shuddered, forcing herself back into reality. The stuff was bleeding out of him. Unless he found a way to stop it, he'd die, the way Merrida would die—if she wasn't already dead. Or unless he accepted Lialla's aid. Jennifer wondered if there was anything the sin-Duchess could do for him, though; whether she would. For her own account, certainly, Lialla would let him die and be glad. But her mother and Aletto had claims on her.

  Lialla's face showed nothing; she stood several paces from Jadek, hands loose at her side, simply watching him. Chris still looked angry and frustrated but he stayed with Lialla.

  "Uncle,” Aletto said suddenly. Jadek slowly brought his head around and stared at him, as though wondering who he was. He laughed then, very quietly.

  "Don't look so stricken, boy. You've won, it seems; you have what you wanted—at least, for now.” He heaved a sigh and turned to Afronsan's clerk. “Sir, I'll go with you and gladly; I had wondered how else I might survive this night.” He produced a wan smile. Aletto opened his mouth to protest, shut it again without saying anything.

  "Watch him,” Dahven murmured against Jennifer's ear.

  She shook her head. “Can't you see it? I can, without Thread now; he's hemorrhaging Light. He'll be lucky to see the sun rise at this rate; it's sucking him dry, like it did his brother."

  "No,” Dahven insisted. “Even Amarni took days to die; he can't be so ill as all that!” She shook her head again, but studied the man more carefully. Jadek had stepped back to let all of Afronsan's men but the two armed guards pass; they stood behind him and to one side—near enough to remind him that he was under detention, but not so close as to serve as human shackles. Jadek was swaying very slightly and his lips had a bluish look to them.

  The front of the room had by and large cleared out in the past moments: Most of the merchants had gone into a worried huddle a distance away; many of Jadek's men were nowhere in sight—somewhere in the rear of the chamber, behind Aletto's, perhaps. Near the dais, now, Jadek and his guards; Lialla and Chris. Edrith between Chris and Robyn, who knelt on the edge of the dais with Lizelle's head in her lap. Aletto and Gyrdan close together, almost within reach of Dahven and Jennifer. Dahven drew his breath in sharply, Jennifer uttered a little cry of protest as his fingers dug into her shoulders.

  Jadek straightened all at once and Light flared, blinding and stunning Afronsan's guards; Jadek himself vanished in a roil of Hell-Light that shimmered from ceiling to floor and ran out in all directions. Merchants screamed and threw themselves at the outer doors. Jennifer caught the blast of power and it knocked her flat, onto Dahven, who landed hard, the breath driven from him. She scrambled onto her knees, back to her feet and ran forward, trying to shout above the uproar all around her: “Birdy! Get back, do it now! Li, where are you, you need me!"

  "Yo, Jen!” Chris bellowed. She couldn't see, couldn't think. Fortunately, her ears still worked.

  "Kid? Guide me, damnit!” She thought she heard Dahven somewhere behind her, shouting her name; she ignored that, shut her eyes against the sickening swirl of Hell-Light all around her and tried to concentrate on Chris's voice.

  He shifted into voice, a furious tenor. “Yo, my name is Chris/and I still ain't scared/of a jerk named Jadek/just because he dared/to mess with Hell-Light/this stuff ain't so bad/we gonna clean it up/and everybody be glad."

  "Keep it up!” Lialla shouted. Jennifer stumbled into her outstretched hand and clamped onto it, dropped to one knee and clenched her teeth. Stride La Vampa still seemed like a poor idea—a worse one in the midst of Light than it had on the edge of pooled Light in Evany's courtyard—but it was all she knew that would fit with what Chris was doing. She slapped her free hand against her jeans for the three-beat and launched into it—her voice a dry whisper at first, growing in strength by the moment as Chris's rose and echoed."

  "Except for you/'cause you in for hard times/gonna chill down in Podhru/gonna pay for your crimes.” His voice rose and ended on a startled squawk.

  "Chris?” Lialla demanded anxiously. She yelled herself then, a triumphant little shriek. Lights shivered all around them and began to fade at once. Jennifer remained where she found herself, blinking furiously and trying to focus on the elaborate square of flooring under her knee. It came and went through wheels of light and painfully bright flashes; those, too, faded, and Dahven enveloped her in a crushing embrace.

  "Ever, ever again,” he mumbled against her hair. She nodded, clutched at the front of his shirt and tried to remember how to breathe.

  She pushed away from him finally and slewed around, still blinking catherine wheels from her eyes. Lialla leaned back into Chris, and Edrith was blotting her face with his sleeve, talking to her in a low, worried voice. Lialla nodded and he went into the crowd. When he returned he had a servant who carried a long, slender pitcher and several round mugs on a wooden tray. Edrith shoved one of the cups in Chris's hands for Lialla and brought another to Jennifer. “Here. It's plain water, cold from the kitchen cisterns.” She nodded her thanks, drained the cup and held it out for a refill, then got slowly and carefully to her feet.

  There were men everywhere, milling around the room, some of the household servants who were tending to Lizelle. Robyn caught Jennifer's eye and nodded briefly; she was still holding the older woman's fingers. Afronsan's guards were being helped by their own and another of the household servants: an older woman still in her night robes and a plain, close-fitting cap who knelt next to a small wooden tray that held several boxes and bottles. Healer of some sort, clearly. Jennifer dismissed Afronsan's guards from her thoughts and looked for Aletto.

  He knelt a short distance away, Gyrdan standing just behind him. Jadek lay there, very still, unnaturally white against the dark floor and the now totally sweat-soaked blue robe. At first she thought he might be dead, but as she watched his chest rose, fell again. As she came up, she was unsettled to see his eyes were partly open. She glanced sharply over her shoulder as something moved there, met Lialla's dark gaze. The sin-Duchess looked without expression at the fallen man, sighed as her gaze passed over her brother's bowed head. Jennifer followed when Lialla turned and walked off a few paces.

  Lialla stared broodingly toward the dais, where her mother lay, watched as servants lifted the unconscious woman onto a litter and carried her from the room. “I would have left him alone, you know,” she said abruptly.

  "I know."

  "Not for any—any decent reason, like the one you gave him when you threw down your bo.” Lialla met her eyes, turned away once more. “I thought you'd gone mad when you did that."

  "I must have, thinking I could get away with it."

  "No. You were right. I wanted to kill him, worse than Chris did. I had more reason. Not just myself, but Aletto. Mother. And then, for both of them to ask me—” She shook her head. “Chris is right; things shouldn't be so complicated. But I'd have left him alone, if he'd permitted that."

  Jennifer sighed. “Maybe we were all naive to presume it could be worke
d out. The one thing I said, though—someone with a weapon sees threats everywhere. He didn't leave himself any way out. He knew that would kill him—and he did it anyway."

  "Stupid,” Lialla said softly. “So stupid. In a way, he's won. Mother—and Aletto will let it gnaw him forever, wondering what he might have done to prevent this.” She stared at this dais blankly, let her eyes follow Robyn, who had risen to her feet and now walked over to Aletto, to kneel beside him. “Maybe I'm mad, too: I think I'd save him if I could. No one deserves to die the way Father did, even I can't think it's a fair exchange."

  "Yeah? Well, I can,” Chris said flatly as he came up. “Li, I swear—will you save it until Eddie and I get out of hearing? Some people won't let you save them, don't you get that? He knew all that and he still went in a full flameout!” He gripped her shoulder. “Chill with the dumb guilt stuff, all right? It won't get the dude back on his feet, and you be honest with yourself, you don't want that anyway."

  "Guess not. That doesn't seem—"

  "It isn't right,” Chris said. “It's what is, though. What is and what's right don't always meet up; even I know that.” He squeezed her shoulder again and went down the room toward the outer doors, taking Edrith with him.

  23

  The weather had turned cool the past several days; not unusual in the high country for mid-September, Lialla assured her. Jennifer looked around the large room that had served her and Dahven for the past three months and sighed. She'd miss the room itself—the large bed, the airy, high ceilings, the enormous windows that let in north light and just a little pool of summer sun late in the afternoon. But the past two nights, her blankets had felt slightly damp, even with the fires lit, and she'd never properly warmed up.

  The women who took care of the family apartments had offered to pack for her but she'd done it herself, taking inventory as she put things in the leather satchel. Chris had kept the Nike bag with him when he and Edrith left Zelharri a month earlier, but Aletto had had a near-copy made for her: Eyelets and ties instead of a zipper, but the craftsman had faithfully reproduced the shape and size—and the swoosh logo on both sides.