And also I took the absence of a mind within Aralesh too readily at face value, Cassian told himself. He was destroyed from within. Somewhere inside him, I think, is the remains of a soul. He inducted the Lyn-girl into that group, where I have no doubt she learned of blood magic. I do not know what indignities he subjected her to, but they must have echoed what her father did to her and so death was not enough for him either. Only sheer destruction would do. Which is why he lives as a shell when all the rest are corpses.
Why did she kill the others? Those of her group of what were, after all, fellow-sufferers? I believe that the elven children were the key. They were the first of them to die. I think they were too much for her to look upon; brother and sister, as alike as two petals on a rose. Perhaps the rumors of their incest were true, after all. If so, that must have tortured her, a vivid image of her own torn and divided self, and she simply could not bear for them to live. After their deaths, perhaps she realized she could draw the power of each dead soul into that wretched clawed relic, and a chain of murder began. That their deaths would strike at their parents, and further her goal of destroying her father, must have been an irresistible attraction.
And Ziraldesh? Ah, but I fear I killed him, the elf thought wanly. It was I who went to Lyn that morning and told her I knew of the group that he and Aralesh had tutored, and she must have thought that Ziraldesh had betrayed her—or was about to do so. Having taken the life of his son, perhaps she feared what Ziraldesh might know. Perhaps he had learned something from Ladamair, and she had to kill him before he told me any more.
This will make for a discursive report, he reflected. But Kypros is safe now, and will not need to worry about his feast. He will be able to boast of how his akarenti was able to thwart dastardly plans to sabotage the city, and will doubtless dress this up to impress his visitors. He may, if he feels generous, mention me in such a context. So even I may emerge from this desperate tragedy looking good.
Cassian worked through the night to finish the first draft of his report. He wanted to get out of Vivane as quickly as possible, and there was a regular airship departing that evening. He would be able to sleep long hours aboard it and waken with little space and time keeping him from Thera itself. He badly wanted to get back.
At breakfast he took some light porridge and fruit, not having the stomach for anything more substantial. The livid mark on his forehead drew the maidservants' stares, but Cassian offered no explanations. Then he discovered that he no longer had his scarab and knew he must set off once more for Tarlanth's house to recover it. The last thing he wanted was to re-enter that cursed place, but there was no alternative. The useful device might be lost if he did not recover it swiftly.
He entered Lyn's rooms with real reluctance. The blood was reduced to a faint stain that even determined scrubbing had not been able to eliminate. Carpets, bedding, all had been stripped. The room was almost wholly bare, with almost nothing left to show that a living, breathing soul had once passed most of its tortured life inside its four walls.
Checking around the floor, he finally tried behind the wardrobe, clutching in the narrow space with his fingers. He did not find what he was looking for, but there was something very thin and frail there and he drew it out.
It was a painting, crudely worked by a childish hand, but it had some beauty in it and the work was pleasing to the eye. A little blond girl sat by a pool of placid water, on a grassy bank, with flowers all around her. Above, clouds scudded in the sky above trees gently waving in the breeze. The clouds were reflected in the blueness of the water. Studying the painting, he suddenly saw that where there should have been something more, there was nothing: there was absolutely no reflection of the child in the water, nothing to show her face. I am not here, the image said to him: I do not exist.
It was so pitiful that Cassian sat down on the bare bed and wept with his head in his hands. He had seen many things to harden him in his years, seen innocents torn asunder by unspeakable and nameless creatures from a realm of nightmare, but here a sensitive and gifted child had been destroyed over time by her parents, without help or hope or anyone to turn to. Changed from an innocent into a tortured, pain-wracked killer with all the venom and implacable hatred of any Horror, but unlike them, with the remains of a soul still within her. All around him was silent as he struggled to regain his composure.
His eyes finally settled on the little scarab, still sitting on the table where Jerenn had set it. He replaced it in its clasp and disconsolately turned to leave. Heading downstairs, Cassian came face to face with two men walking in together. Ilfaralek and Tarlanth. He was astonished.
"Please leave my house," Tarlanth sneered. "I am under no Writ as of this morning and your presence here is unwarranted and most definitely unwanted."
Cassian almost gasped at the audacity of the man. "Are you satisfied?" he cried at them. Wanting to hurt him, even if only a little, for he felt he could do no more, he said, "Your family will not inherit now. Medari will not benefit from your wickedness."
"You have taken that from me, I admit," Tarlanth said, a steely edge to his voice. "She would have given me an heir."
"Impossible," Cassian said flatly. "Not even you could have found a 'wife' for your 'son'. Not even you could have arranged such a marriage, and no child could have been begotten."
"I think you will find that Patracheus has a very enfeebled niece," Tarlanth said evenly, "with terrible bad health. A marriage of invalids. Most convenient."
Cassian's mind moved one step back and one forward. He had only just realized what Tarlanth let slip a moment before.
"And she, Lyn, would have given you an heir. Then it's true!" He grabbed the man by the throat, shouting, "You unspeakable bastard."
Ilfaralek grabbed his arm and forced him away.
"Enough of that. Tarlanth is a free man," he said ominously. Cassian stared at the akarenti speechlessly. In the doorway, a fourth figure entered the tableau. Cassian took one look at her and then stormed to the doorway, turning only to deliver a final barb for her benefit.
"You know," he said to her in a low, malevolent voice, "I have a very definite feeling that a precedent has been set for House Carinci. One of definitely reduced life expectancy. That monster you married will have a son, and if you are too old to give him one you will not live long."
Her cruel and cold eyes met his only in a mocking, almost bored way. She had clearly made plans against such an eventuality.
Feeling helpless and impotent, the elf hurried to his carriage and had himself driven away as if from some Horror-haunted ruin.
"I have lodged this writ with you officially now, and provided I receive acknowledgment and suitable guarantees, I will leave at once," Cassian said stiffly to Ilfaralek. He had completed all his business, packed everything, and had one thing only left to attend to.
"Payment will be required within seven days," Ilfaralek said.
"You will have it," Cassian promised him. "I will send a kedate."
"Then I see no reason why the boy's freedom should not be purchased. There is no record of any crime on his part and indeed he can be said to have acted in the best interests of the security of the city." Ilfaralek drew out a pre-written sheet of vellum from a desk drawer, added a name and a date to it, and stamped it with his seal and signature.
"If payment has been obtained within seven days, then you can take this to the House of Records and get the second seal, making everything final and official." Cassian picked up the document and left without another word.
Outside, he gave the vellum to Jerenn. "I will be back as soon as I have delivered my report to the Arbiter-General,” he said. "There is a small chance that he may have some other task for me that will keep me from returning in person. If that happens, I shall send a kedate. However, you can be assured that I will make absolutely certain the necessary money is paid. You will be a free man. You will not have the rights of a Theran, of course, but you will be a free Barsaivian, able to live freely in
the city, so long as you carry the right passes with you. You won't have to wear black anymore." He grinned.
"Why are you doing this?" the boy asked.
"You ask me that when I probably owe my life to you twice over? Once in the Undercity and again at the end of things?" Cassian did not want to be more exact about the latter occasion. "You have richly earned this."
"But it hardly comes cheaply," the boy protested, "and I was treated well enough in Tarlanth's household."
"You wish to return to it?"
"Oh, no." Jerenn seemed to shudder at the very thought.
"Then this should help you to start a new life here." Cassian handed him a small silk-lined leather pouch that chinked with coins. "You should be able to find a room or two to rent. I've already made some enquiries about that, and I have little doubt that someone with your talents will find gainful work." He handed Jerenn a folded sheet of vellum with his own Imperial seal set upon it. "If you need it, give this to any prospective employer as a reference. I speak fairly of you here, and quite highly, for you are intelligent and resourceful." The boy blushed.
"I hope I shall see you again," he said falteringly.
"I do also," the elf said earnestly. "Come, let us go and take some wine. I have two hours before I must leave for Sky Point."
So, miraculously, they found somewhere reasonably quiet in the huge throng of people already gathering to celebrate the forthcoming feast, and Jerenn asked all the thousand and one questions he had always wanted to ask, and Cassian answered most of them; and the boy's head spun with the tales of a huge wide world of savants and soldiers and mystics, dervishes and Stormriders, shapeshifters and beastmasters and more; of vast monoliths and endless subterranean glooms, of the standing waterfalls of southern Indrisa and the Gloamoaks of Vasgothia, higher than any tower yet built by man; of the fabulous creatures Cassian had seen either at first hand or in the zootorium of the Great City. Then, when he still had a thousand more questions, the time had gone impossibly quickly and Kendreck was urging Cassian to get into the carriage now.
"I hope very much to be back," the elf said, embracing the boy.
"And I hope so too," the boy replied, fighting hard to keep a tear from his eye. No one had ever treated him as Cassian had and, if they had skated on very thin ice at times, it had been all the better for that. He could live as he wished now, and there were plenty of other cities where he could survive far longer on the gold given to him before he would need to find himself some work, and there was always begging. But he would miss the excitement and the elf's placid and kindly nature and his intelligence.
Cassian said some words in a tongue Jerenn knew but did not understand, and his blank expression told the elf so.
Cassian grinned. "It is Sperethiel. It means 'Bright mornings be upon you/ It is a blessing of sorts. Farewell, Jerenn."
The boy watched sadly as the elf walked out the door and climbed into his borrowed carriage one last time.
35
"This is a fine report, Cassian. You have done very well. I do not think you need reproach yourself in the least for the deaths that occurred after your arrival. This was a very difficult case, and yet matters have turned out pleasingly. Overgovernor Kypros himself has sent a congratulatory despatch. You have an eye for true seeing in darkness."
The Arbiter-General was almost glowing with pride. Cassian watched as a tray with two glasses of exquisite Torinachian frostwine, chilled to perfection, was brought in. That meant things had gone well. Indeed, that a full crystal bottle of the unbelievably precious liquid stood beside the glasses meant things had gone unbelievably well. Cassian was very surprised, and a little apprehensive. He had heard of praetori getting the whole-bottle treatment before but had never received it himself. Surely, he had not resolved matters so well?
There was still the matter of the relic, the magical clawed orb that Lyn had possessed. It was a pattern item from the group of Aralesh's pupils, but it also had older and more malign and powerful magic within it, and doubtless that would need time to understand and identify. Still, that was hardly a pressing problem now.
"I believe it is a relief to the powers in Vivane that this matter did not involve any infestations, sir." Even here, the word "Horror" was not used lightly.
"Hmm, yes, I'm sure," Andreax deferred, with a studied casualness. "Well, Cassian, we have another task for you shortly. However, you surely deserve some leave after this difficult investigation. I think, also, that we shall have to give serious consideration to a promotion. A commendation is a matter of formality, I think. I am surprised to learn," he said with an archly raised eyebrow, "that General Crotias seems to have taken a very definite shine to you. If you can get on her good side, then we must use your talents as much as we possibly can. So it will be a busy life for you in the future, I think."
"There is the matter of Tarlanth, sir," Cassian said hesitantly.
"And what of him?"
Cassian missed the sharp tone, and persisted. "There is the matter of incest law, sir," he said.
"We cannot prove any accusations relating to that. It cannot be established that he was the father of that unfortunate girl's child."
Cassian went absolutely pale, deathly white. "What? You mean—"
"Oh no, no child was given birth to," Andreax said smoothly "Nothing to worry about there, I can assure you."
By the Passions, Lyn's father had made her pregnant already, Cassian realized. Something clicked into place in his mind; yet another piece of the jigsaw. I don't believe it: nothing is to be done about him!
"But there are unresolved matters of corruption, as I have clearly laid out in my report, sir," he said uncertainly. "Not to mention that the planned 'marriage' between Lyn and Patracheus's niece suggests the distinct possibility of corruption on the part of Patracheus. After all, sir, he is head of the Department of Bursaries. This could still be very serious."
"That will be enough, Cassian," Andreax warned. "You have done what we sent you to do and Vivane is now back to normal. With several days of feasting and revelry to come, no one will be terribly preoccupied with this business afterward. Life will go on. Now, if that is all?"
Cassian excused himself and headed for his quarters. He found the Bursar, and withdrew sufficient of his accumulated pay, saved over many years, to return to Vivane and pay what was needed at the House of Records. For some hours he wandered through the city, barely attentive to the sights and wonders and miracles around him, trying to think through more and more.
At last, he could bear it no longer and he found, to his surprise, that he was permitted to re-enter the Arbiter-General's office without needing an appointment, when he had expected to have to wait a day or two at the least.
"Very well, what is it now?" Andreax's voice was again a warning, but this time Cassian was alive to that. He also chose to ignore it.
"It was known about here, wasn't it?"
"We had certain lines of circumstantial evidence, yes. We had to send a praetor to be sure. It is also the case that certain appeals were made to various Imperial offices regarding Tarlanth. He had made many enemies in a short time. He was considered a very disruptive influence."
"Kypros."
"Among others. The Overgovernor's reputation for lacking intelligence is somewhat undeserved, you know.
When it comes to protecting himself he is extremely alert and bright."
"It was known that I would, eventually, come to the conclusion that someone was attempting to discredit him and then I would be spurred to find out more."
"Yes, certainly. Which you did, and excellently so. Now—"
'The stage was set for me. Did the girl even kill all those victims?"
"That is a very dangerous question to ask," Andreax said with infinite chill in his voice. "One which the wise might definitely not inquire too closely about."
'The twins," Cassian breathed aloud. "They never did fit. Their father wasn't part of the web of intrigue and corruption. Oh, they knew.
They knew what she really was. She trusted them because of their nature and they were all she had. The one place where she could rest her heart. And they were killed because of it, to make her do what she did. So that Tarlanth would be discredited in the end. Who knew of this? Who could have known?"
Rage boiled up inside him. "Tell me!"
"No, Cassian." The voice was firm and unshakable. "That is not for you to know. You have done what you were sent to do and a suitably edited version of your report has been lodged in the appropriate places."
Suitably edited. Oh, I'll wager it's been suitably edited, Cassian fumed.
"I shall take my leave now," he said stiffly. "I return to my duties in ten days. I shall take a holiday, I think. I have ten days' allowance coming to me."
"You do indeed," Andreax said rather less apprehensively. Ten days should be enough for the elf to get over it.
Cassian went back to the Bursary. By good fortune, there was an airship that very evening.
36
"Here is the remainder of the payment," the elf said to the functionary inspecting the document at far greater length than was necessary. He put the wooden seal in the man's hand, gripped it, and stamped it himself, leaving the astonished little man behind as he swept out with Jerenn in tow.
"We will meet at the north gate in an hour," the elf said to the boy. "If you wish to accompany me, that is. If you want to remain here in Vivane, you are certainly free to do so."
“I want to go," the boy said fervently.
"Then go and buy us what we need." Cassian grinned and gave him a little in the way of coins. He was carrying considerably greater wealth, but most of it was in the form of gems, less bulky to carry and easier to conceal about him. The hollow heel of his left boot alone contained sufficient for them to eat and drink well for some months to come.
Shadowrun - [Earthdawn 05] - Shroud of Madness Page 27