Covenants (v2.1)

by Lorna Freeman

  Asked Basel to stand guard? I stared at the ghost and he shrugged.

  “The dead are governed by the earth aspect, Rabbit,” Laurel reminded me as we started down the hall after the captain of the guards, “which is my affinity.” He cast me a look. “It was an asking, mind, which the haunt could’ve refused. Anything else would’ve been necromancy.” The King’s Own brought us to the same chamber where we had first met Foreign Chancellor Berle. The nymphs and mermaids were all there, and Jeff quickly sought out his favorites.

  “What happened to you, cousin?” Jusson asked as I bowed. The original table had been exchanged for a much larger one, and he sat in the middle of one side. His eyes focused on the feather, bright red against the dark of my hair. “I asked for you some time ago.” We all turned and glared at Basel, who tried to duck behind me.

  Jusson sighed. “Never mind, I don’t want to know.” Lord Commander Thadro and Captain Javes were on one side and Captain Suiden on the other side of the king. Jusson gestured at an empty seat next to Suiden. “Please be seated, Rabbit.” He looked at Laurel Faena. “If you won’t mind waiting outside, Ambassador. We have some brief army business and then we will have our delayed meeting.” He waited until Laurel exited, then nodded at Thadro. “Bring him in.”

  Thadro signaled a guard who went out of the room and returned with Lieutenant Groskin—and Archdoyen Obruesk, carrying his staff.

  “You again!” Jusson said, frowning.

  “I didn’t ask him, Your Majesty,” Groskin said.

  “Why shouldn’t I be with my good friend’s nephew,” Obruesk said at the same time, “to give comfort at his time of travail?”

  “He’s not giving birth,” muttered Javes.

  “Consider him comforted,” Thadro said. “Now please leave.”

  But the archdoyen had caught sight of me, and lowered his head, glaring out from under his brows. “Once again you’d bar me but you allow an accused sorcerer to stay.”

  He really must have been sure of himself.

  “Leaving alone the pesky detail of proof, without which accusations are mere slander. Your Reverence, once again you press uninvited into where you have no place.” The king leaned forward, resting his clasped hands on the table. “But since you insist, you may stay while we conduct a military inquiry. You may also stay during our meeting with another country’s ambassador. However, we shall inform the patriarch that we also get equal access to all his church council meetings.” He smiled, showing his teeth, and waited.

  Politics, indeed.

  The archdoyen raised his head, still glaring, but he knew he had been routed. He spun around and stalked to the door, the bells on his staff tinkling as it struck the floor with each step. A guard closed it behind him with a gentle snick.

  “Well?” The Lord Commander glared at Lieutenant Groskin.

  “Sir, he insisted on accompanying me—” Groskin began.

  “Leave it, Thadro,” Jusson said. “We’re sure the archdoyen thought this up on his own.”

  Lord Commander Thadro settled down in his chair. “Under normal circumstances, Lieutenant, you would be up on a host of charges ranging from insubordination to inciting rebellion, with undermining morale, disobeying a direct order, endangering a fellow officer, and precipitating a war along the way. Not to mention sheer stupidity in aligning yourself with someone whom you knew to be perfidious—”

  The king cleared his throat.

  “—however, because the circumstances are not normal we have decided to give you another chance.”

  Groskin’s head, which had been down, snapped up at that. “Sir?”

  “You will remain with your unit and your captain in the same office you held before.”

  “Uh,” Groskin said, looking at Suiden, whose eyes were hot green in his dark face.

  “Twice you’ve come in contact with the magical,” Thadro said, “and twice you’ve failed abominably. Do not fail a third time.”

  “No, sir.”

  “This is not a sinecure, Lieutenant,” Jusson said. “As we said before, you have betrayed the trust of your fellow lieutenant, your captain, your entire troop, and the Royal Army. You have betrayed your king. You have a lot of proving to do.”

  “Yes, sire,” Groskin said, still staring at Suiden. Sweat was beading on his forehead.

  “You will go back to the barracks,” Thadro said, “and sit in your quarters—alone. I want you to think on your good fortune in having a third chance, when most wouldn’t have had the second. Dismissed.”

  Everyone was silent until the door shut after Groskin.

  “Ten to one Obruesk is lurking about the hallway waiting to pounce on his ‘good friend’s nephew,’ ” Javes said.

  “No takers,” Thadro said.

  “We will talk to the patriarch, and soon,” Jusson said, his eyes hard. He then turned to Thadro. “Please bring in the others.” Once more Thadro signaled and a guard went back to the door. The king looked at Suiden, his face easing—a little. “Cheer up, Captain Prince,” he said. “It won’t be nearly as bad as you think.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” Suiden said as the guard returned, escorting Laurel Faena, Foreign Chancellor Berle, Lord Esclaur, several advisors, and, judging by his uniform, the Lord Admiral. Behind Chancellor Berle followed another guard carrying a large wooden box.

  “Always ‘Your Majesty’ and never ‘sire.’ ” Jusson propped his chin on his fist as Chancellor Berle and Laurel Faena sat at opposing ends and the others filled in the rest of the empty chairs around the table. “Why is that, Prince?”

  “I once called a man not my father ‘sire,’ Your Majesty. It didn’t turn out well.”

  “Your uncle, the Amir of Tural?” Jusson asked.

  The thought went across my mind that the difference between a king and a farm boy turned lieutenant is that when I pushed, I got smacked upside the head. Laurel chuffed once, which he turned into an unconvincing cough while Jusson frowned at me. “That’s enough, Lord Rabbit ibn Chause e Flavan.”

  As I said.

  “Rabbit—” Suiden began.

  “All right, what’s going on?” Berle demanded. The king raised a brow at her and she blushed. “I beg your pardon, Your Majesty—sire—” She stopped and took a deep breath. “It’s like Lord Rabbit is holding a conversation with everyone else that I can’t hear.”

  “Not just you, Berle,” Javes said. “Esclaur and I can’t hear either.”

  “But the ambassador, Captain Prince, and I can.” Jusson looked around the room. “Does anyone else hear Lieutenant Lord Rabbit?” Lord Commander Thadro raised his hand. “Interesting.” The king faced Laurel. “Why us and not them, Ambassador?”

  “It is an ability, honored king, like having perfect pitch,” Laurel replied. “Rare, but not unknown.” He hesitated and then added, “It is also tied to having the talent, in some measure.”

  “Talent,” Berle said, her voice hushed. “Magic?”

  I cautiously looked around the table and took in the stunned looks aimed at Jusson and his Lord Commander.

  “You call it that, honored chancellor,” Laurel said.

  “The Border must be a very interesting place,” Jusson remarked, “if one can eavesdrop on another’s thoughts at will.”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that, honored king,” Laurel said. “It usually takes a lot of training to become adept at thought-scrying. The reason why you’re able to hear Lord Rabbit so clearly is that he is very strong—and he hasn’t had much training on how to guard his thoughts.”

  A muttering went through the advisors, as the possibility having their thoughts being available for public consumption apparently didn’t sit well, and they cast me uneasy looks. Seeing it, the king rapped on the table. “This is all very fascinating and bears further exploration. Later,” Jusson said, disregarding that he had started it. He looked around the table. “Yesterday we had an attempted rebellion by the House of Flavan. However, it failed and those involved were either captu
red or killed—except for Lord Gherat of Dru and his kinsman, Slevoic ibn Dru. We have posted men at all city gates and docks, but it seems that they’ve slipped our grasp as several ships were seen sailing from the sea escape.” An advisor looked at the Lord Admiral. “You haven’t been able to apprehend them, Admiral Noal?”

  Admiral Noal shook his head. “No. But we have patrols out looking and I’m confident that it will be only a matter of time before we do.”

  “And when you do, Noal, what then?” Berle asked, her face challenging. Admiral Noal looked at her, frowning.

  “When he does, Berle, he brings him back to us,” Jusson said. “Because of his role in the rebellion and other serious crimes, we have declared Lord Gherat outlaw, his House dissolved, all titles rescinded, and the reversion of all its properties and holdings to the throne.” A faint gasp sounded around the table while Chancellor Berle sat back in her chair, smiling.

  “Outlawed, Your Majesty?” another advisor asked. “Without a trial?”

  “One of Gherat’s crimes is against the people of the Border,” Jusson said. “Murder and slave running. Chancellor Berle, if you would tell us what you found.”

  Chancellor Berle signaled and the guard placed the box in front of her. “Agents went out this morning, Your Majesty. This is what they returned with.” Standing, she removed the box’s lid, reached in and pulled out a nobleman’s walking cane with a silver handle. Apparently someone had noticed the dead sprite and had placed two rubies where her eyes were. There were bone-handle knives, belts and boots made of skin that shone with a luminescence, a wolf’s pelt with head attached, and large apothecary jars. I stared at the piglet floating in one, and turned away, while Laurel rumbled deep, his ears pressed against his skull.

  “This is just a sample, Your Majesty,” Berle said, sitting down. “We’ve several rooms full. And, of course, you know what the patriarch found in his See.”

  “So there is no question that we have violated the Border treaty,” the king said.

  “None whatsoever,” Chancellor Berle said, sighing. “What really concerns me, sire, is that not all the—the contraband stayed in Iversly. According to Lord Chause, a great deal, including captured Border citizens, were sold to outside interests, mainly Turalian merchants.”

  “We have sent a request for Ambassador Sro Kenalt to help us in our inquiries,” Jusson said. “But we were dismayed to find that the ambassador is no longer in our city.” Captain Suiden stiffened and turned in his seat to stare at the king—only to find Jusson watching him back. “I take it, Captain Prince, that you know nothing of either the flow of slaves to Tural or of your cousin’s whereabouts.”

  “No, Your Majesty,” Suiden said. “I haven’t seen Kenalt since your reception—”

  “Where you did disappear with him.”

  “—nor am I in collusion with Gherat or Teram.” Suiden caught up with the king. “We were—drinking, Your Majesty.” A faint flush shone under his dark skin. “And we were in sight of many.”

  “So you were,” Jusson said, his eyes gleaming at Suiden. “And we’ve been told you have a very pleasing baritone and know the most amazing songs.” He raised a brow. “But during your bacchanal your cousin did not spill any secrets about Tural’s involvement?” The gleam increased. “Or would you tell me if he had?”

  “I’ve been sworn to your service, Your Majesty, for the last twenty years,” Suiden replied. “Yes, I would tell you.”

  “Would you?” Jusson repeated. “Always ‘Your Majesty,’ never ‘sire.’ Perhaps we should have you stand in the Witness Circle and give your oath once more. Would you?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty. I have sworn to your service,” the captain repeated.

  “Would you?” the king pushed. “You had once sworn to the Amir of Tural.”

  “I didn’t break faith, Your Majesty. The amir decided he no longer wanted my fealty.”

  “The amir cast you, his eldest sister’s son, out? Why was that, Captain Prince?”

  “He didn’t like that I withstood him, Your Majesty.”

  “Oh? And this is a desirable trait we want in our own sworn men?”

  “I have learned tact, Your Majesty. My ‘no’s are more diplomatic.”

  Jusson laughed in spite of himself. “You will not call us a fool to our face, Captain Prince?”

  A faint smile crossed Suiden’s face. “Yes, Your Majesty. Besides, I don’t believe that you’ll ever dispossess an entire village just because you wish to build a pleasure garden for your favorite concubine. Complete with fountains, for which you will divert water, causing several other villages’ crops to wither, their orchards to fail, their cattle to die of thirst—”

  “We see, Captain Prince.” Jusson considered Suiden. “So altruistic! Willing to face down your amir for the sake of peasants and cows.”

  “My ship’s first mate came from there, Your Majesty—”

  “Ah.”

  “—and I also thought the concubine and her family were getting a little too fat while others went begging—”

  “Politics too.”

  “—and I was sure that my uncle would listen because I was right.” Suiden shrugged. “What I was, was young and naive.”

  “A volatile combination,” Jusson agreed. His gaze then swept the table. “After twenty years of service, Prince Suiden has proven his fealty to our throne, so let there be no more questioning of his intent. Even by us.”

  A few shifted at the king’s declaration, casting uneasy, looks at Suiden’s glowing green eyes.

  “Also,” Jusson said, “let there not be any questioning of whether or not we have violated the treaty with the Border. Though it appears that the majority of the smuggling revenue was used for Teram-turned-Locival’s pantomime rebellion, there were others involved who just wanted fat purses. We need to discover what we can do to avert war.”

  “Just because we lost the first war doesn’t mean we will lose the next, sire,” an advisor said. “Besides, we shouldn’t be held responsible for the actions of brigands, no matter how highly placed and whatever their motivations.”

  “Well said, indeed,” Lord Esclaur said. “Though, of course, if the situation was reversed and brigands based in the Border were raiding our kingdom, it would be intolerable.”

  I watched color creep up the advisor’s face. He glanced over at Laurel. “Do we want to air our differences before the ambassador?”

  Laurel immediately pushed his chair back and stood. “You’re right, honored sir. I will withdraw. But think on this. The Qarant are trading partners with the Border, and if they didn’t know about the smuggling before, they will very shortly. Do you want them to also know that you refuse to take responsibility for what happens within your realm? How comfortable do you think they would be trading with you?” The Faena bowed, never taking his eyes off the assorted stunned and outraged faces, then turned and walked out the door.

  “How dare he threaten us—” the advisor began.

  “He’s right,” King Jusson said. “If we become known as a kingdom of cutthroats and thieves, the Qarant and others would be very leery about dealing with us.”

  The advisor cast another look at Suiden, stopping at Captain Javes on the way. “Not if we win against the Border.”

  “Win against magic?” Jusson asked. “We didn’t last time, and we were a whole kingdom then, with all our Houses united.” The king leaned forward. “And then there’s the Turalians with their involvement in our offense against the Border, just when Teram decides to start his rebellion. Do you think that’s just happenstance? We are sure they are watching very closely. What do you think they’ll do if we go to war?”

  “His Glory the Amir would wait until you’re at your weakest and most distracted, then strike,” Suiden said.

  “Yes,” Jusson said. “Using all his Court wizards.”

  “But wizards and djinns and afreets are just a child’s tale—” The advisor broke off, staring at Suiden again.

  Suiden shook
his head, his green eyes afire. “No, they’re not.”

  “Once we could pretend that Iversterre was the center of the universe and that the sun, moon and stars revolved around us,” Jusson said. “That time has passed. “ He looked at Lord Commander Thadro. “Please have Ambassador Laurel join us again.” It was quiet enough to hear the tap of Laurel’s staff as he approached the table and his chair scraped loud as he pulled it out from the table to sit down. The king glanced around at everyone. “Evil has been done in our kingdom and we will address it. Understood?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “Good.” King Jusson settled back in his chair. “Chancellor Berle?”

  “I’ve spoken with the ambassador to see how we can rectify this, Your Majesty,” Chancellor Berle said. “I have given you our recommendations.”

  “We have received them,” Jusson said. He took a breath before turning to Laurel. “A heinous crime has been committed against your people, Ambassador. We beg your pardon here, and will send a letter of apology to your Council. Rest assured that we will bring to judgment any and all who are involved in this ring, no matter their station.”

  “Thank you, honored king,” Laurel said.

  “We have also reviewed your recommendation to send an emissary to the Border both as a gesture of goodwill and to establish an ambassadorship with our neighbor—an action long overdue. But we are concerned. With what has happened, can you guarantee the safety of whomever we send?”

  “Yes,” Laurel said.

  Jusson’s face lightened as a smile flashed across it. “Well, you’re confident.”

  “I was given full discretion, honored king,” Laurel replied. “Your representative will be safe. My oath on it.”

  The rune on my palm grew warm at the truth of his words, and the king looked my way. He then turned back to the Faena.

  “All right. We name Foreign Chancellor Berle as our emissary.” The chancellor did not look surprised but bowed her head in acknowledgement.