Edge of Darkness ~ A Darkness & Light Novel Book Three
Page 6
"Because it's impossible that Donovan is actually behind this?"
"I'm not saying that, but do you sense him anywhere nearby? I don't. And one of us certainly would. Especially if he's flinging about the kind of power you're suggesting."
Bolin blew out a soft snort and looked away. As much as he wished he could, it was hard to argue Dain's point. No use of magic went unnoticed by those who possessed it. Most, however, was so benign as to not warrant even a passing appraisal. Like tossing rocks into a lake. The ripples sent out by a pebble might never reach the shore, and only the most carefully observant might notice the faint echo of them distorting the surface. Those caused by a boulder, however, would break against the shoreline like the crashing surf.
"I know the fact often eludes you," Dain said, "but you're not invincible. Nor are you immune to the frailties that plague all men. You've suffered a great deal over the past months, and have the grief of an intimate loss heaped on top of it all."
"So, that's why you insisted on coming then? To act as nursemaid?"
The Emperor flashed a quick smile. "In part."
"Nice to know you have such faith in me."
Dain shoved to his feet with an exasperated growl. He crossed to where Bolin stood and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I attend you as Emperor to honor a woman who gave her life in service to this empire, and as a friend, who is all too aware of how stubborn you are. My faith in you remains as resolute as it ever was."
Bolin raised a meaningful brow. "Hence the wards?"
He'd noticed them as soon as the last dregs of confusion slipped away, subtle enough to be missed if he hadn't already been alert to the smallest shift in power around him.
"They are more for the safety of the men than anything," Dain said.
"From me?"
Dain's eyes flashed in anger. "From whatever threat might approach that they are unequipped to defend against. Or would you rather we be caught unaware?"
"Of course not." Bolin shrugged out from beneath the Emperor's hand. "I'm sorry, Dain, tonight has apparently unsettled me more than I care to admit. I've allowed my grief to get the better of me. A moment of weakness I won't allow to happen again. Now, if you'll excuse me, I believe I'll turn in."
The guards stationed outside the door saluted as Bolin left Dain's room and made for his own at the end of the hall. He didn't bother with a lamp as he closed his door. Guided only by the glowing embers in the brazier set off to one side of the bed, he shed his gear and stretched out on the mattress, one arm twisted behind his head. He toyed with Ciara's pendant, the gentle pulse of power a comforting warmth beneath his fingers. His eyes grew heavy and he finally stopped fighting their insistence to close.
In the moment before sleep pulled him resolutely under, a sensation like the light stroke of fingertips caressed his cheek, and a voice whispered beside his ear, "Sleep well. You and I have much to do."
CHAPTER NINE
Several days after their talk in the gardens, Berk found himself walking the streets of Nisair beside Ciara, pointing out anything he thought she might find of interest. Jorny and Pehl shadowed them, watching the crowds, keeping their eyes on whatever Berk couldn't. Ciara didn't flaunt her position as much as other Ladies of the Empire, but that wouldn't make her any less a target to those of lesser fortune, whose discontent with their own stations sometimes drove them to a blind hatred of nobility.
"You'll want to come back here during the Springtide Festival," Berk said as they strolled among the row of merchant shops that lined the avenue. "The shopkeepers try to outdo one another with decorations. It's better in the evening. They spare no expense in lighting their shops. Some even enlist magic users to create… "
He trailed off, his smile freezing as his gaze landed on a group of three men on the far corner. They stood in a tight knot, heads close together in quiet. Dressed in thick, travel stained, woolen cloaks, they looked too rough for this part of the city. They looked, to Berk's eye, like marauders.
The realization put his hand on the grip of his sword, even as he tried to convince himself that no marauder would dare risk coming into the city, especially not this part of it. Too close to the walls. Too many guards. The lower end, or the docks, where they'd only have to deal with the City Watch, perhaps. Still, to be caught anywhere within Nisair meant immediate execution.
"What's wrong?" Ciara asked, twisting her head to follow his gaze.
Berk gave her a quick smile. "Nothing."
"Which usually means 'something'."
"No, it doesn't."
Berk glanced toward the corner again. The men had dispersed, one going into a nearby shop, one heading back down the avenue, and the other crossing toward the residential area of the city. He blew out a sigh and relaxed his hold on his sword. Goddess above, just because someone wore a woolen cloak to ward off the chill didn't make them a marauder. He rubbed a hand across his forehead, stopping when he caught Ciara's concerned look.
"I'm fine," he said, before she could ask the question poised on her lips. He forced a bit of false cheer through the irritation, and resumed his role of guide with a gesture toward the cluster of baker shops down the way. "If you want a real treat--"
"Hold there, Guardsmen."
The order came from behind them, and Berk turned to find six of the Council Guard approaching. They were led by Captain Marshall. He had a few years on Berk, and was just highborn enough to feel entitled. He brushed past Jorny and Pehl to put himself in front of Berk, flanked by two of his men. The other three took up positions around them as though expecting trouble.
In the hierarchy of Nisair's assorted military factions, the Imperial Guard held the top rung with the Council Guard, a notch below, in all but their own eyes. As the chosen guards for the Imperial Mages, they felt they should be accorded more respect and a higher degree of authority than the Imperial Guard. In Berk's experience, none felt that more strongly than Captain Marshall.
Berk faced the captain, putting an arm back to tuck Ciara behind him. Marshall's eyes flicked her way, his nose twitching as though he smelled something offensive.
"She's to come with us," he said, drawing his gaze back to Berk, shoulders squared. "Stand aside."
"By whose authority?" Berk asked.
Marshall lifted his brows. He drew a folded piece of parchment from behind his belt and presented it with roll of his wrist. "The Council of Mages. Of course."
Berk flicked the paper open, and forced his expression to remain neutral even though his stomach clenched as he read the missive. It took him a moment to get past Warrant of Arrest printed carefully across the top, the listing of charges below included conspiring with an enemy of the Empire. Lord Vaedryn's signature flowed across the bottom, his personal seal, and the seal of the Imperial Mages, affixed beside it.
"This is absurd," Berk said.
Marshall somehow managed to glower down his nose at Berk, though he stood a handspan shorter. "It is not your place to question the Council. Step aside."
"What is it?" Ciara asked, angling to peer past Berk's shoulder.
"She's not going with you," he said.
"You don't have the authority to stop me."
"Lady Ciara is under the protection of the Imperial Guard, Captain. I'm afraid I do have the authority."
Marshall took a step closer, forcing Berk to lean back slightly to keep his eyes from crossing. "You do not outrank me, soldier."
"You've served your warrant, Captain. I'll see it presented to Commander Garek."
"I am acting on behalf of the Council of Mages, by Lord Vaedryn's personal orders. You will step aside and remand the" --Marshall's nose wrinkled again-- "lady to my custody, or you will be joining her in chains."
"Berk, it's all right," Ciara said, trying to push past him. "I'll go with him. I don't want to cause you any trouble."
Berk ignored her. "You're more than welcome to accompany us to the commander's office, Captain, but I won't be relinquishing the lady to you without his personal app
roval."
"I am authorized to use all necessary force," Marshall said, his voice low enough for only Berk to hear. "In your case, that would be a particular pleasure."
"Do you really want that kind of scene in the middle of the avenue?" Berk tipped his head to look over Marshall's shoulder. "Six against three. Not insurmountable odds. But you're already drawing notice. How much more will you draw when you lose?"
This time Marshall didn't hold back the sneer. "You think you're so much better than everyone else, don't you?"
Berk didn't bother to respond. He kept his eyes on Marshall as he said, "Jorny, Pehl, fall in."
The two pushed past the Council Guard to flank Ciara without question, hands on their weapons. At a signal from Marshall, his men flared out behind him, blocking the way.
"Do you think being in the Guard puts you above the law?" Marshall asked. "Or that being the Lord General's consort exempts her from due course? We are taking her to the Council Chambers by order of the Council of Imperial Mages. I will give you one last chance to stand aside before I place you under arrest as well."
A hand settled on Berk's shoulder, followed by Jorny's voice in his ear, "We can take them, I've little doubt of that, but the middle of the avenue isn't the place. His warrant's in order?"
Berk nodded.
Jorny made a noise. "Arrogant prigs, the lot of 'em."
Berk stepped back, turning to face Ciara, knowing Jorny and Pehl would keep their eyes on Marshall. He took her by the arm and pitched his voice low. "We've got to go with them. They have a warrant for your arrest. It has to be a mistake, I'm sure of it. I'll send Pehl to get the commander. He'll sort it out. In the meantime, I'm not leaving your side."
"Lady Honval," Ciara said, and gave a rueful shake of her head. "She doesn't care much for me. Can I see the warrant?"
Berk hesitated. Ciara didn't seem entirely surprised so he handed the warrant over, watching as her eyes flicked across the writing. Her expression slowly transformed from resignation, to shock, to a blank, carefully composed mask. She refolded the parchment and handed it back to Berk. Something in the quiet manner she drew herself up, lifting her chin just so, and rolling her shoulders back, sent a shiver through him.
"I'll go with them, Berk. Thadeus will straighten this all out. I'm certain." Her voice was even, and only the barest flicker of fear danced in her eyes. "You don't need to come with me."
"Yes, I do." He swiveled toward the others. "Jorny, you're with me. Pehl, get the commander to the Council Chamber as quickly as you can."
"Aye." Pehl shoved through the line of amber uniforms and sprinted off.
When Marshall signaled two of his men to take up positions beside Ciara, Berk dropped his hand back to his sword.
"Lady Ciara is voluntarily accompanying you," he said, his tone icy. "But make no mistake, Captain, she remains under our protection."
He slipped his hand around Ciara's arm, giving her a reassuring squeeze. With a nod toward Jorny, he forced Marshall to step aside as they started after Pehl in the direction of the castle. The captain snapped his fingers, waving his men to surround the three of them, before trotting up to assume the lead. Ciara walked with her eyes straight ahead, and though she gave a good show of appearing outwardly composed, Berk could feel her trembling.
He lowered his head, putting his mouth close to her ear. "I won't let anything happen to you. I swear it."
"They've been looking for an excuse," she replied, still staring at Marshall's back, her voice a breathy, quivering whisper.
Berk tightened his grip. "The charges are ridiculous."
She rolled her lips closed and nodded. They walked in silence after that, but Berk kept his fingers lightly around Ciara's arm, more for his own peace of mind than hers. Though he could feel her fear, it seemed far less than his own for her, and that gave him the strength to keep walking. All he really wanted to do, was tell Ciara to run. That would pit him and Jorny against six Council Guards, and those odds were a bit long. Besides which, Berk knew Ciara would never abandon him. So he held onto the belief that a huge mistake had been made, and tried to keep his fears hidden.
CHAPTER TEN
Muted sunlight streamed in through the high windows of the Council Chamber, spreading in rippled waves across the polished tile floor, and glittering off the inlaid Imperial crest at its center. Three men and two women in amber robes sat in high-backed chairs behind a narrow table. Outside of Thadeus and Lady Honval, Ciara knew none of them. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her to keep them still. A ward surrounded her, making the air shimmer in her vision. Berk stood to her right, just outside the shimmer's edge, in direct defiance of the captain of the Council Guard who ordered him to remain in the corridor.
Ciara let her gaze pass across the mages. All of them, Thadeus included, were stern-faced. Some wore their disdain openly, others tried to mask it, but Ciara could feel it directed at her. They hadn't even met her before now, yet all had made up their minds to dislike her.
"I am Lord Vaedryn," said the man to the left of an empty chair at the center of the table. Slender and bald-headed, his skin had a light, powdery sheen, which made his dark eyes look like deep pits in the composed mask of his face. "You have been brought before us to answer charges of treason against the --"
"You know who I am, yes?" The loud rumble of Garek's voice rose from beyond the closed doors. "I'll give you one more chance to stand down, before I have you scraping horse dung out of the cracks in the yard until it's spotless."
A moment of silence preceded a sound like a kettle being struck against stone, then an echoing clatter, followed by the doors opening. Garek stepped over the prone form of one of the door guards, and strode into the chamber. He flexed the fingers of his right hand as he stepped up beside Ciara.
"What is the meaning of this, Commander?" Lord Vaedryn asked.
"Strange, I was wondering the same thing myself," Garek said. He looked Ciara's way. "Are you all right, lass?"
"This is a closed hearing, Commander. You and your man need to leave."
Garek scratched his chin. "The thing about it, my lord, is that Lady Ciara is under the protection of the Imperial Guard by order of the Lord General. As such, she'll go nowhere but the privy without one of my men by her side. I'd like to see your warrant, if you'd be so kind."
"Do you intend to stand as representation for the lady?" Vaedryn asked, his voice dripping scorn.
"Oh, love of the Goddess, Vaedryn, let the man see the warrant." A woman seated beside Thadeus leaned forward and gestured, and a page hastened over to hand Garek the folded parchment.
The commander took his time reading, chewing on his mustache, 'hmming' and 'huhing' over parts. Vaedryn shifted in his seat and started to say something but Garek held up a finger to silence him, muttering under his breath. Ciara watched the mages intently. Vaedryn and Lady Honval, seemed the most impatient of the lot. A younger man, at the far end of the table beside another vacant chair, studied the goblet in front of him, chin supported on one fist, idly picking at something on its base.
Footsteps sounded on the tile floor behind them, and Garek grinned. Ciara turned to see who else had joined them, and a flush of relief ran over her as Ariadne entered the chamber and walked serenely to the fore of the room, flanked by two of her personal guard. Another two took up positions at either end of the table.
"I sincerely hope someone in this room has a very good explanation as to why a Lady of the Empire, consort to the Lord General, and personal guest of His Majesty the Emperor, has been dragged here, against her will, and now stands bound within a ward?"
If ever the combination of beautiful and deadly existed, Ariadne personified it, and Ciara noticed that very few of the mage's would meet her gaze in anything more than a passing glance.
She turned to the one who would. "Lord Thadeus, perhaps--"
"Lord Thadeus has declined appointment as the head of our order," Vaedryn said.
The room stilled. Ariadne's head
turned ever so slightly in Vaedryn's direction, and the hair on Ciara's arms stood on end even through the shimmer.
"My Lord, you overstep yourself."
"No, Lady," Vaedryn said, "I believe it is you who have overstepped yourself. This Council is the ruling authority in the Emperor's absence."
"Not when another of Imperial blood is within the city. Remove the ward."
Ariadne's shoulders drew back when no one moved to comply. In the next instant, the shimmer vanished from around Ciara.
Vaedryn shot to his feet. "How dare--"
"Sit down." Ariadne's voice snapped across the room like a whip and Vaedryn dropped back into his chair as though someone had shoved him there. "I will not be spoken to in that manner by any member of this Council. Explain your actions here."
Color rose beneath the pallor of Vaedryn's cheeks and his jaw tightened. "It is the belief of this Council that the Lady Ciara willingly conspired with Lord Donovan in his attempt to breach the wards of this city, and, as such, shall be held accountable in the death of Lord Arnok."
"That's ridiculous," Berk said before anyone else could respond.
Ciara reached for him. "Berk, don't."
He brushed her off and stepped forward to stand beside Ariadne. "Lady Ciara wouldn't even have been on that wall if I hadn't taken her. I handed her over to Lord Donovan against her will."
"Then perhaps you should be tried alongside her," Vaedryn said, his fine nose wrinkling.
"She shouldn't be tried at all."
Ariadne laid a hand on Berk's arm to still his next comment. Her voice, when she addressed the mages, had all the warmth of river ice. "You are aware, I trust, that Arnok died by the Emperor's own hand after turning against him."
"Because of her." Vaedryn extended a slim, pale finger in Ciara's direction.
"Were you there?" Berk asked. "Any of you?"
"Commander Garek," Vaedryn said, his deep gaze not leaving Berk. "You will silence your man, or I shall have Captain Marshall put him in chains and remove him to the dungeons."