The Silvered

by Tanya Huff

  “Bland would drive you crazy,” murmured a quiet voice against her hair.

  Mirian sniffed and rubbed her sleeve over her face. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

  “I know.”

  “I got you wet.” She pulled away from his chest and dried that cheek as well. “I’m sorry.”

  He loosened his hold, a little, and shrugged. “Skin dries.”

  “I’d have made a mess of your fur.”

  “And that’s what I was worried about. Here.” One arm released her, stretched out to the right, and came back with a canteen. “Rinse your mouth.”

  She sloshed a mouthful of water around and had to poke him so she could get enough clearance to spit. The fire had burned down to embers, the last of the daylight had faded, and she couldn’t see the puddle of vomit, but she could smell it. “What happened to the…to the body?”

  “I got rid of it.”

  “You didn’t…”

  “Eat it?” She might have felt him shudder. “No.”

  “All right.” Another mouthful of water. “Good. I’m all right. Thank you. Let me go now.”

  He released her reluctantly. “I could hunt…”

  “No. I mean, yes, for you.” She crawled to fire pit and began piling the smallest twigs in the pile against the coals. “I couldn’t eat.”

  “You need to eat.”

  “I said I can’t!” The fire flared and she froze, refusing to back away. If she’d actually been able to advance beyond first level while at university…If she’d attempted to heal another student…

  “Mirian….”

  “Just don’t!” She slapped away the hand reaching out for her. “Leave me alone!”

  But when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night, he was there, arms pulling her close, murmuring comfort against the top of her head, as if he’d known she’d been dreaming of his fur covering eyes, nose, mouth…

  * * *

  “Your orders, Captain Reiter, were to bring back six mages. I know, because those were the orders I gave to General Loreau. One in six or six in one. Not a single Soothsayer said anything about five.”

  Reiter stared over Emperor Leopald’s head, gaze locked on what looked to be a blue drawing of a shepherdess playing a flute, a recurring image on what he considered to be entirely inappropriate wallpaper. Of course, wallpaper wasn’t something he’d given much thought to previously, so for all he knew it might be exactly correct for a debriefing that would probably turn into a court-martial that would, in turn, turn into an execution. Reiter doubted the emperor would allow wallpaper to delay an official court-martial should he decide a mere captain’s action had been treasonable.

  “Lieutenant Lord Geurin, as his uncle persists in informing me, returned with five of the mages, leaving the sixth mage for you. Although, as you were his commanding officer, and as I have had the unfortunate privilege of meeting Lieutenant Geurin, I rather suspect you ordered him to Karis with the mages already secured as you considered him incapable of finishing the job.”

  Was he supposed to answer that, Reiter wondered. Would anything he said matter if he were already marked to die?

  Apparently not, as the emperor barely paused for breath. “I have read your report. I have read the report written by the garrison commander at Lyonne. I have read the letter written to the garrison commander from Major Halyss at Abyek. You may not know that Major Halyss was, until recently, a highly regarded member of my staff and I continue to value his opinion. Captain Reiter…” The emperor sighed his name. “…would you please look at me. That staring at the wall thing you military men do is annoying.”

  “Sir!” Reiter forced himself to drop his eyes and found the emperor gazing up at him, shaking his head.

  “All that emphatic agreement is a bit annoying, too.”

  But he was smiling, so Reiter managed to breathe almost normally in spite of the fact he was looking at the emperor. Or the emperor was looking at him. Had been looking at him. The emperor. Reiter had been in the army for two years when Emperor Leopald had risen to the Starburst Throne. He’d taken part in the pageantry with the rest of his company, he’d drunk to the young emperor’s health, he’d sworn new oaths to His Imperial Majesty Leopald, Commander in Truth. When he’d been transferred to the Shields, he’d realized he might be given a chance to see the emperor from a distance, then he’d been given orders carrying an Imperial seal, and, now, the emperor was looking at him. Smiling at him.

  “The evidence suggests you made every attempt to carry out my orders.”

  His shoulders straightened. His body reacted to Imperial attention as though it had a mind of its own.

  “Under normal circumstances, I honestly wouldn’t care about how hard you tried. I care about results. That’s how one builds and maintains an empire after all, isn’t it?”

  His shoulders slumped, just a little. Reiter wasn’t sure he liked feeling even so minimally out of control.

  “However, the Soothsayers have Seen the sixth mage here, at the palace, which somewhat negates your failure. More importantly, at least as far as you’re concerned, last fall two Soothsayers Saw you at the palace standing by my side in a square of purple. Two of them.” From the emperor’s tone, visions by multiple Soothsayers seemed to be important. “Although,” he added, “it wasn’t until recently that the Interpreters were able to identify you. I will not bore you with the reams of bad poetry.”

  The pause extended almost long enough Reiter thought of throwing in another sir, but the emperor began talking again before he could.

  “I had assumed you’d be here, with me, as a reward for successfully completing your mission. Apparently not, and, yet, here you are. So, as blame must be placed, if I am not placing it on you, where do I place it?” He raised a hand. “Don’t answer that. It seems to me you performed as expected; the artifact did not.”

  “Your Imperial Majesty, all six of the artifacts were tested multiple times.” The voice came from just behind Reiter’s left shoulder, from one of the two civilians who’d accompanied him and General Loreau into the Imperial presence. They were courtiers, both self-important and simpering, but, other than that, Reiter had no idea of who they were or what their function was. Courtiers were not introduced to captains. “I performed the tests myself, as you requested, rather than leave them to a lesser researcher. The mage should not have been able to remove the artifact!”

  “And yet she did.” The gold net dangled from the emperor’s finger, the broken links with their blackened ends obvious. “I believe you stated at the conclusion of your research that attempting to remove this artifact without the proper tool destroyed not only mage ability, but all cognitive ability as well.”

  “Those were the results we obtained during testing, but in fairness, Majesty, we never tested it on a mage as strong as the mage the captain lost.”

  If the narrow-eyed reaction was any indication, the emperor didn’t appreciate this attempt to pass the blame back. Neither did Reiter, but he had to admit the emperor’s opinion counted for more. “Lieutenant Geurin reported that when one of the other five merely tugged at the artifact, she scarred her fingers and was all but unresponsive for the rest of the journey.”

  “Again, Majesty, we have no data on comparative power between the two mages.”

  The emperor’s wide-eyed gaze shifted left. “Lord Warder of the Archive.”

  “Your Imperial Majesty?”

  The reply came not from the man who’d been talking, but from the older of the two civilians. Actually, Reiter would have been willing to bet he’d be the older of any two civilians. He looked like a turtle in fancy dress, his face and neck a cascade of wrinkles and his clothing at least a generation out of style.

  “What was the condition of the artifacts when you removed them from the vault?”

  “All six artifacts were in the same condition, Majesty. That was why I removed those six. While gold does not decay as baser metals may, there is a certain delicacy to the cons
truction of these artifacts in particular, and I was, therefore, careful to check for any physical differences.”

  “So no broken links, Lord Warder?”

  “Not so much as a weak link, Majesty.”

  “Interesting.” Elbow propped on the arm of his high-backed chair, the emperor dropped his chin onto the heel of the hand not holding the artifact, two fingers curled by his mouth, two resting on his temple. He looked as though he were considering nothing more important than if he should have another drink before he left the officer’s mess for the night. “As the sixth mage removed the artifact with no apparent damage to herself, I can only assume the artifact was, in fact, defective. Not physically, as has been stated by the Lord Warder of the Archive, so, therefore, the testing had to have been defective. Do you have anything to say in your defense, Lord Master of Discovery?”

  “I can only repeat, Majesty, that the mage should not have been able to remove the artifact.”

  “And yet she did. Six mages, Lord Master. Six. The Soothsayers were specific and now, thanks to your incompetence, I have five. Yes, the sixth is on her way, but that’s not the point. General Loreau.”

  “Sir!”

  The emperor rolled his eyes. “Have him taken to the north wing. I’ll decide what to do with him later.”

  “Majesty!”

  The artifact glittered in the lamplight, swinging from the emperor’s finger. “The evidence speaks against you, Lord Master.”

  “Your Imperial Majesty, no! I beg of you…”

  He kept begging while soldiers dragged him from the room. He was still at it when the door closed behind him. Reiter stared at another shepherdess, sweat sticking his uniform to his back. Locked in position in front of the emperor, he’d seen none of what had just happened. That should have made it less affecting. It didn’t.

  “Tavert.”

  The conservatively dressed young woman sitting on a stool just behind the emperor’s chair taking notes on a lap desk, looked up. “Majesty?”

  “We’ll try Doctor Lord Camberton as the new Lord Master. It should make him happy. He’s wanted the job long enough.” The emperor’s smile made him look almost too young for his responsibilities. “Try to make it clear that I’d rather he not overshare his happiness with me.”

  “Yes, Majesty.”

  The emperor straightened, the languid posturing gone, and Reiter found himself back under the regard of a piercing blue gaze. He made a mental note to ignore the affectations.

  “You showed initiative, Captain Reiter, using the drug to keep the mage under control. I like that.” The corners of the Imperial mouth flicked up into a quick smile. “I’d have liked it better had it been successful, but still, initiative. I’ve had an opening on my staff since Major Halyss left—somehow his father convinced me that the major’s knowledge of mage-craft would be of more use on the front, given what the Swords are fighting in Aydori—and I’d like you to fill it.”

  Well aware he wasn’t being asked if he wanted the job, Reiter managed a fairly neutral, “Sir?”

  “I found Major Halyss’ study of mage-craft to be of use in my own research. You don’t have his academic background, but you’ve certainly had more exposure in the field and that might be of equal, albeit different, use. Also, your appointment should stop Lieutenant Geurin’s uncle from petitioning me on his behalf. The man’s an idiot. Actually, both men are idiots. It’s a family trait.” Reiter came to attention as the emperor stood. “Walk with me, Captain.”

  A small door at the back of the room led to an empty hall—the walls the first without wallpaper he’d seen since arriving in the palace. When the emperor beckoned him forward, Reiter fell in behind his right shoulder. When His Imperial Majesty, Exalted ruler of the Kresentian Empire, Commander in Truth of the Imperial army, said walk, there was only one option. Reiter suspected his legs would have obeyed regardless.

  “When my father redesigned the palace, he added a way to get to the public rooms without having to deal with the public. Why should the servants have all the privacy?”

  The emperor wasn’t particularly tall. The top of his head just cleared Reiter’s shoulder. Had he been a soldier not the emperor, Reiter would have described him as just over tit high on the average whore.

  “I find myself with a decision to make, Captain. You’re aware of the reason you were in Aydori?”

  “The Soothsayers’ prophecy, Majesty.”

  “You don’t approve.”

  Reiter thought he’d kept that from his voice.

  “Of my using Soothsayers in general—and I’m sure I don’t need to tell you how different your circumstances would be had the Soothsayers not Seen you—or of this prophecy in particular?” The question sounded conversational, but then every word out of the emperor’s mouth had sounded conversational.

  Reiter couldn’t lie to the emperor. He was the emperor. “I think combat requires initiative that might be stifled by Soothsayers, Majesty.”

  “Ah, yes, a soldier’s opinion.” He didn’t sound as though he disapproved. “I, however, need to maintain a wider perspective. Soothsayers are useful for that. One in six or six in one. Empires rise or empires fall, the unborn child begins it all. Clearly, I intend to see the empire rise. It’s in the nature of doing my job. Unfortunately, although the Soothsayers are quite emphatic about the sixth mage eventually arriving at the palace, they’ve Seen nothing about how she gets here. Is she captured again? Do you think that’s likely, Captain.”

  “Not easily, Majesty.”

  “Not easily.” The emperor frowned. “Well, then, let’s hope she’s being drawn by the power of the prophecy. However, in case the prophecy could use a little help…Tavert.”

  “Majesty.”

  “I want the army in Traiton and Pyrahn on high alert. Have Major Halyss pulled from the front and put in charge of making very certain my sixth mage is heading in the right direction. Major Halyss is more of a thinker than a fighter. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to have something less dangerous to do.”

  “I’m not sure she’s less dangerous,” Reiter said without thinking.

  The emperor actually stopped walking long enough to stare into his face. As a drop of sweat rolled down his side, Reiter figured it wouldn’t hurt to show a few nerves. After a long moment, the emperor smiled. “I like you, Captain.”

  There didn’t seem to be anything to say to that but, “Thank you, Majesty.”

  * * *

  Although the area next to the road became more built up as they moved deeper into the empire, it took a while to find what they needed. A skirt snatched off one line then later, a belt to cinch it tight. A shawl taken off another line. While Mirian might have no understanding of the whys and whens of laundry, she trusted her ability to judge price. And she thanked the Lord and Lady when they finally found a shirt. From a distance, she now looked like any lower class woman of the empire. Up close, however…

  “This thing has no support!”

  Head cocked, Tomas frowned as she twitched the unbleached muslin back and forth. “Why does it matter?”

  “It tells anyone with eyes, I don’t belong here. Also, it hurts when I run.”

  On the list of things Mirian thought she’d never do, shopping for Imperial undergarments off village clotheslines had to be right at the top. Running across the empire with Tomas Hagen to rescue the Mage-pack was an unlikely, but possible, childish daydream. Stumbling around in the dark, avoiding houses with geese, to find the ridiculous number of items Imperial fashion required to replace a simple set of banding, would never have occurred to her. She missed the simplicity of Aydori clothing.

  In spite of Tomas’ protests that they were merely living off the enemy, which was perfectly legitimate in a time of war, they left a little money at every house they took clothing from.

  Seedlings pulled from the edges of gardens, she assumed no one would miss. They all looked the same to her, a darker blur in the shadows of the night, so maturing them was always a surprise.
They grew a lot of cabbage in this part of the empire. And onions.

  Turning into the breeze, Mirian pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders and tried to figure out why she’d been feeling anxious all morning. “It’s like I can almost hear something. Something important.”

  “Danika?”

  It was possible, but she’d heard Lady Hagen’s voice on the breeze and this didn’t sound the same. “I don’t think so.” It sounded less…directed. “If there’s Pack in the empire, are there mages here, too?”

  Tomas shrugged. “There’s mages all over. But Ryder says…said, Imperial mages aren’t much. First and second levels if that.”

  Maybe that was it. Maybe it was nothing more than a mage without enough power to be understood. But flinching at a shadow, her reaction not her own, Mirian didn’t think so.

  Midafternoon, Tomas stopped running so suddenly she nearly tripped over him. His head went up, nose into the breeze. His ears flattened, his hackles rose.

  “Tomas?”

  He growled, and took off running toward the northeast, angling away from the road.

  “Tomas!”

  Even running as fast as she could, she lost sight of him fairly quickly, but he was following his nose, so she followed the breeze.

  The sun had nearly reached the horizon when she started to smell smoke.

  Sweet, greasy, almost familiar smoke…

  A moment later she could see multiple strands of dark gray rising over the trees, writhing against the sky.

  Breathing through her mouth, she came out of a hollow, pushed through the masking trees, and stared down a long slope at a burned-out compound tucked against the side of a small valley. A fairly large cottage, a well, a garden, a low shed half open for wood and half closed in for livestock…all destroyed. Recently destroyed. The blackened shells of the buildings and a small dark pile in the center of the garden still smoldered. She couldn’t make out the details of the pile no matter how she squinted or how hard she rubbed her eyes.

  She couldn’t see Tomas, although this had to have been what he’d caught scent of.

  Heart pounding, she slowly walked forward until she wasn’t only looking at the destruction, she was in the midst of it.