Once they were alone, he raised his flute to her.
“Lady Death, I welcome you most warmly to my home. You do me great honor. And I thank you again for your kindness with regard to the tribute payment. You cannot imagine how much it will help me.”
“Think nothing of it, Horus,” she said. “Besides, it will give me an excuse to come back to the Gray Fort to enjoy this view on a sunny day.”
A smile lit up her face as she spoke. Her behavior toward him was markedly different than in the past, friendly rather than enigmatic. He stared at her transfixed, thinking, She is the most beautiful woman who has ever lived.
She raised her flute.
“To the Defender of the Northern Frontier,” she said.
Horus searched her face for mockery but found none, so he raised his own and responded, “To the Shieldmaiden of the Sisterhood.”
They clinked and the crystal gave off a musical ring. The wine was the very best vintage and Diana swirled it her mouth appreciatively. They sat together at a long table with a view of the river and the snowy mountains and enjoyed the repast. As was her wont, Diana ate sparingly and delicately. Horus began as usual by piling his plate, took a few large forkfuls of food, and swallowed with minimal chewing. He burped and looked up with embarrassment, but the look on her face was kind.
“I am pleased that you are now the Master of Firsk, Horus,” she said.
“All this is the outcome of the peace accords that ended the Great Insurrection. I fondly recall all the time we spent together during those negotiations, Lady Death.”
“Yes, those were good times.” She smiled. When she continued, her voice took on a husky note. “You can always make me laugh, Horus.” Our times together were happier than I knew at the time, she thought. I have missed teasing him.
He pushed his plate away leaving the rest of his food uneaten. He was nonplussed by her warmth and racked his brains for something she would find interesting or witty. But nothing occurred to him and he cracked his knuckles to fill the silence.
“Lady Death,” he said, finally. “I know that you must despise me, for you have witnessed many of my displays of cowardice. But I have asked you here to tell you that I have been inspired by your example; by your calmness and bravery in battle. I have tried to better myself by emulating you.”
He paused again but her expression remained kind, so he was emboldened to go on.
“Over the last few years, I have led our Blues and Spades on several expeditions into The Trongo to root out the outlaws that prey on our law-abiding people—and cut deeply into our tax revenues. I think I carried myself with honor, leading from the front. I do not want to boast, but the men now compete to serve in my personal guard. In the old days they had to be forced to do so.” He pulled up one of his sleeves, revealing a long scar. “I killed the villain who gave me this. He was a huge brute. I wish you could have seen me.”
“So do I,” said Diana. She sipped her wine and looked out at the driving sleet. “I am sure your wife and son are proud of your accomplishments. I trust they are in good health?”
Horus tossed back the rest of his wine and refilled his flute.
“Talia spends most of her time in Karsk. She claims she is tending to her sick mother. She keeps our son, Wytor, with her.”
“You must miss them.”
“Lady Death, I do miss my son. But I can bear my wife’s absence very well, for my marriage is not a happy one.”
“I am sorry to hear that, Horus. Your marriage contract was an alliance of your house with the House of Hilson. It is a shame that the two of you have not developed a working relationship.”
“Talia is forever prating about the superiority of the Hilsons and the greatness of her father. She poisons our son against me. When she is here, she misses no opportunity to belittle me in front of our guests, and even my own staff. To tell you the truth I am well pleased that she stays in Karsk, surrounded by her Hilson relatives.”
“There are a lot of them,” said Diana, laughing. “Even more than your wenches.”
Horus joined in her laughter, but he soon grew serious again.
“Lady Death, it is true that I have enjoyed the favors of a few women—”
“From what I have heard, there were more than a few,” said Diana, interrupting.
“I will not defend myself on that score. But since the time we spent together as platonic friends, I have become a new man. I have been celibate since the end of the Great Insurrection.”
“Come now, Horus, it has been years since then! Even if you have stopped sleeping with serving wenches, your wife is an attractive woman. Is she unwilling to do her conjugal duty?”
“Talia does not refuse me outright, but she shrinks from my touch. I don’t want to simply rut with a woman who makes it clear that she finds me repugnant.”
They sat in silence for a moment. Then Diana changed the subject and pressed him for details about his battles with the outlaws in The Trongo. It was a subject that he was happy to discuss and he was soon explaining the dispositions and tactics of the various engagements, using spoons, forks, saltshakers, and pepper mills. She listened with great interest, asking occasional questions, and teasing him when he grew boastful. He relished her attention, and she found herself laughing with him rather than at him.
An hour passed before Diana leaned forward and brushed the top of his hand with her fingers.
“I enjoy spending time with you, Horus,” she said.
“Lady Death, please consider—”
“But I must go now.”
She rose and left him without a backward glance.
FIVE
BETRAYALS, IMAGINED AND REAL
BRADAR LED A very dispirited party across the viaduct and over the drawbridge into Nordberg Castle. His older daughter, a girl of eight, rode beside him as they entered the castle, while the younger one rode in a wagon behind them. He had been allowed a very small troop of outriders. Even this small number was depleted by the scouts he had sent ahead to warn his father.
Baron Tadar Loksus, Lothar’s castellan, was waiting for them in the bailey, and he bowed low as Bradar and his older daughter dismounted. Bradar was gratified to see that his warning had been taken seriously, so the castle was on a war footing. Even as he dismounted, wagons loaded with grain continued to rumble in, stocking the castle for a long siege.
“You father and your bother await you in the Throne Room, my lord Bradar,” said Baron Loksus. “I will escort you there. The queen has asked that your daughters be sent to her suite—one of her ladies awaits your pleasure.”
“Yes, yes, please have my girls taken to see my mother,” said Bradar with a distracted air. “And lead me to my father. I must see him without delay.”
Lothar sat on the Masthead Throne and Pinnar stood at his right hand. Both of them looked relieved to see Bradar. Pinnar advanced on him, hugged him and conducted him to their father. Both sons kneeled.
“Rise, my sons,” said Lothar. His tone was gruff, but he was gratified by their formal show of respect and it showed on his face.
They rose, found seats, and looked up at him, perched above them on the throne.
“I was more than happy to yield the frozen wastes of Swarborg to get you and your daughters back,” said Lothar. “I am pleased to see you alive and unhurt. I trust you can say the same of your children?”
“Yes, Father,” said Bradar. “But I wish you would have bargained harder to get Esgrin back as well! I would give anything to have her by my side. And the children are disconsolate without their mother.”
“We tried negotiating for her, son,” said Lothar heavily. “I offered gold and even some strategic islands in the Peril Sea. But his negotiators were very clear. ‘Our King has taken Baroness Esgrin off the bargaining table,’ they said. ‘We can accept no offer for her freedom.’ The One God knows what he wants with her.”
A fearful look appeared and grew in Bradar’s eyes. Both Lothar and Pinnar saw it, and became unea
sy for they knew Bradar was not one to be easily frightened.
“Shobar is being guided by a specter,” Bradar said. “The specter gave him the keys to Estrans Castle. And it was the specter that wants Esgrin. Only the One God knows its evil intentions! You must give me an army to march on Swarborg! I must rescue my poor wife from the clutches of this evil being.”
“A specter!” said Lothar. He thumped the arm of the throne impatiently. “Tell me—were you in your senses when you saw it?”
Bradar licked his lips nervously.
“Shobar struck me on the head with the flat of his sword,” he said. “But I had recovered my wits. I am sure I saw it rising out of a fire.”
Lothar shook his head and Pinnar followed suit.
“A blow to the head will do strange things to a man’s perceptions,” he said. “Your scouts have already told us that Greghar and the Yengar girl Nitya disappeared shortly before the attack. It is far more likely that Greghar has turned traitor. Bribed by Shobar or bewitched by the Yengar girl, it does not matter.”
“Are Greghar and Nitya in Nordberg Castle?” asked Bradar, incredulous. “Why are they not here? Surely they can help us with our plans to retake Estrans.”
Pinnar put his arm around his brother’s shoulders.
“Our father thinks it very strange that they were the only two to escape the battle,” he said. “My wife Guttrin has reinforced his doubts. Both Greghar and the Yengar girl have been imprisoned in the Overhang Galleries.”
Lothar stood up and stepped down from the throne.
“The time has come to give Greghar and the Yengar girl some stronger incentives to talk. I do not relish torture, but I have quite lost my patience with them.”
“Father!” cried Bradar. “Surely you cannot be serious! Shobar slaughtered Greghar’s half brothers and sisters. He has no cause to love him. He put his life on the line as your champion during the Great Insurrection. And if he’s a traitor, why would he come back to Nordberg Castle?”
“Estrans Castle is impregnable from the seaward side,” said Lothar grimly. “Only treachery could have allowed Shobar to take it. Greghar’s disappearance with the Yengar girl just before the attack confirms his guilt. As for allying himself with Shobar—why, every man has his price.”
“Father, think of all the time we spent with Greghar growing up,” said Bradar in despair. “You taught him to sail, you were his first sword master—you were his idol. In Estrans he looked me in the eye, man to man and there was no deceit in his look. I cannot believe he has turned traitor.”
“It is no use, brother,” said Pinnar, putting his hand on Brader’s arm. “Our father’s mind is made up. We must accept his judgment, for he is our king as well as our father.”
Lothar led the way as they mounted the steps on to higher and higher levels of Nordberg Castle. Finally they reached the iron doors leading to the Overhang Galleries. Over a dozen men-at-arms stood guard outside the doors. They pounded their pikes on the floor as the king entered with his sons. Their captain bowed deeply saying, “Command us, Sire.”
“Rise, rise,” said Lothar irritably. “Lead us to the prisoners.”
The captain rose, and signaled his men. Two of them unbolted the iron doors and the captain led the way with his men, entering the Galleries ahead of their eminent visitors. Greghar was at the far wall, his arms chained above his head. He looked up as they approached.
“I am glad to see you safe, Bradar,” he said, relief obvious in his voice. “I am sorry there was no time to warn you. I give you my word that I had no inkling of the danger till it was too late.”
“Yet there was time for you to make a very convenient escape,” said Lothar.
“Sire, I know you do not trust the word of a baseborn one such as me,” said Greghar. “But I nonetheless renew my pledge of fealty to you. My life and sword are yours to do with as you please.”
“Father—” began Bradar.
Lothar silenced his younger son with a gesture.
“Your birth has nothing to do with my mistrust,” he said. “Your actions speak louder than any words.”
He crooked his finger and the captain rapidly approached.
“Where is the Yengar maiden?” he asked.
“Sire, the queen came and took her from here,” said the captain nervously. “I tried to reason with her, to tell her that the maiden was here by your order, but she commanded me to release the girl to her custody.”
“You were right to obey,” said Lothar, exasperated. “I am not so unfair as to place you between king and queen. But send a man-at-arms to bring her back here. He is to tell Her Majesty that it is my express command.”
“Yes, Sire,” said the captain, gesturing to one of his men, who turned and left at the double.
They did not have long to wait for the man-at-arms to return. Lovelyn of Loftrans, Queen of Utrea, swept in behind him. Nitya was beside her, dressed in a long fashionable gown, her hair piled on her head in a fine coiffure adorned with diamond studs. She wore teardrop diamond earrings and a gold necklace that had the Royal Nibellus coat of arms worked into its centerpiece. Two ladies-in-waiting attended them.
“Sire, we have come at your command,” Lovelyn said with a flourishing bow. Nitya and the queen’s ladies emulated their mistress, the entire movement executed with fine choreography.
“Madam, I am surprised to see your jewelry on this menial servant, this…this…beggar,” said Lothar, controlling his rage with an effort. “And I am displeased to see her changed into this finery, out of the modest attire in which she arrived. Her treachery has cost the lives of hundreds of our loyal liegemen and soldiers.”
Nitya made to speak, but Lovelyn put her hand on her shoulder, and she closed her mouth.
“Sire, I have nurtured this girl and brought her into womanhood. She is as much my daughter as Pinnar and Bradar are my sons. I know her, and I will stake my own life on her loyalty to us. And Greghar!” She went up to the far wall and put her hand on the side of his head, her fingers in his ash-blond ringlets. “How can you doubt him, Sire? Do you not recall your own hand in bringing him up?”
“Madam,” said Lothar, still trying very hard to keep his tone civil. “I love you deeply and respect your opinions. However, I remind you that your judgment in these matters has sometimes left something to be desired. Your good heart is one of your most adorable characteristics—but it sometimes misleads you. You have taken this orphan Yengar girl to your bosom, but I am afraid that she has turned out to be a grasping snake and has bitten you. She takes whatever she can from you, but hates your very existence.”
Nitya threw herself on her knees, unmindful of her fine gown.
“Sire!” she cried. “Please do not speak so! I have no use for these material things!” She crawled forward on her hands and knees. She took off the necklace and the earrings and then the diamond studs from her hair, one by one. She laid all the jewelry at his feet. Freed from the studs, her elaborate coiffure unraveled and her shiny hair cascaded down around her shoulders. She looked up at him and saw his set and unconvinced look.
“I could not love the queen more if she were my own mother,” Nitya went on, her voice breaking. “I cannot bear you to say these things.” She sat back on her heels and tore the gown down from her shoulders. She knew this would only stoke Lothar’s anger, but she was too distressed to care. The dark scar of the Thermadan triangle branded into her shoulder stood out in sharp relief. “I have one unmarked shoulder, Sire. It is yours to torment. I can bear hot iron, but not the lacerations of your words.”
The veins stood out in Lothar’s neck, and his face went red. He ignored her and beckoned one of his wife’s ladies.
“Gather the jewelry,” he said briefly. As she hurried forward, he addressed his wife. “Madam, one of my men-at-arms will escort you and your ladies back to your apartments. I will take your wishes into account as I make my decisions. I know that you have my well-being and the welfare of the kingdom at heart—and for that, I
thank you.”
Lovelyn looked down at Nitya, anguish in her eyes.
“Ma’am, my own mother could not have done more for me,” said Nitya quietly. “You must obey the king now.”
Lovelyn left slowly and reluctantly, looking over her shoulder at the door. When she was gone, Lothar turned to Greghar again.
“Well, nephew, I ask you again. I want to hear every detail of how Shobar managed what no human could do. For I am certain he will soon turn his attention to Nordberg.”
“Sire, I have told you everything I know and I will tell you again. Nitya grew disquieted and led me to the battlements just as Shobar’s Skull Watchmen came over the walls. The sentries were in some sort of trance and could not raise the alarm. We concealed ourselves and made our escape, for it was too late to rouse the castle.”
“Entrancements, specters, twaddle!” exploded Lothar. “Can no one give me a straight answer? I have asked you kindly and you have refused to answer me. The time for kindness is gone. Captain! Suspend him.”
The captain now came forward with several of his men-at-arms. They unlocked Greghar’s chains from the wall and led him to stand on one of the trapdoors. They reattached his manacles to a chain that was linked to a hinged ring set in the ceiling. Bradar and Pinnar both looked as though they wanted to speak, but were hushed by their father’s evident rage. Greghar looked impassive, resigned to his fate.
The men-at-arms waited for their captain’s command and when he made an unlocking motion with his hands, they drew back the trapdoor bolts. The trapdoor fell open and Greghar dropped a meter before the chain jerked taut. He hung there with the cold waters of the Lofgren far below him. Gusts of wind came in through the open trapdoor. Lothar raised his voice to be heard.
“Tell me how Shobar was able to take Estrans Castle!”
The Eclipse of the Zon - First Tremors (The New Eartha Chronicles Book 2) Page 12