by Matt Gilbert
“I will break this door down, Kariana!” he warned her. “You have ten seconds!”
“I’m coming!” she answered. She had intended it as a roar, but it came out much more along the lines of a sob.
It took her some time to find her feet and shamble across the room, but she moved as quickly as possible, strongly motivated to be done with it before Sadrik resumed his pounding.
Sadrik hovered like a bird of prey, his dark eyes full of fire, his raven hair a wreath of black smoke hanging low on his shoulders. Looking up at him was like looking at the larger than life-sized statues of Tasinal that one might see about Nihlos. He had the same sharp features, the same mile-high cheekbones and commanding jaw line. There was, she thought ruefully, no doubt about Sadrik’s lineage. How fortunate for him.
“I am not well,” she said. “What are you going on about?”
Sadrik raised a fist in which he held a crumpled document. “This death list, for starters!”
Kariana blinked in confusion. “What?”
The muscles in Sadrik’s jaw bunched as he ground his teeth. “Don’t play coy with me!” He shoved his way past her and closed the door. “Executions in the dead of night when no one sane could breathe a word of objection!”
Kariana felt herself reeling, and steadied herself against her vanity. “I don’t understand!”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Mei! Seventy or more loyal men, good men!”
“Stop it!” Kariana slammed a fist against the vanity, knocking bottles over with the force. “I told you I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
“You stop it! You were obviously out of control last night.” Sadrik eyed a half empty bottle of liquor on her nightstand and shook his head in disgust. “It’s all over town that you arranged a botched attempt to have Aiul’s wife killed, too!”
“What? That’s insane!”
“Oh, yes! Quite insane! He would have likely killed you this morning if Caelwen hadn’t stopped him, and I wouldn’t count on that to happen again, with you killing his men.” Sadrik’s face twisted in rage, and he picked up the bottle of liquor and hurled it against the wall. Glass and liquid exploded, and the scent of alcohol filled the room. “You’re power mad, Kariana! You’re going down and you’re close to dragging all of House Tasinal into the flames with you!”
Kariana shook her head over and over in denial, feeling as if the world had suddenly slipped from beneath her feet. “It wasn’t me! It wasn’t!”
“It damned well was!”
“How could it have been! I could barely move! The only person I thought of killing last night was myself, and I was too drunk even to do that!” She was weeping now, drowning in confusion and fear.
He uncrumpled the paper in his hand and considered it closely, then shoved it toward her. “The signature is quite sloppy. I’d expect a forgery to be considerably cleaner. You signed this death warrant, Kariana. Go on, look at it and deny it to my face so I have an excuse to beat you. I’ve been looking for one since this came to my attention.”
Kariana looked at the signature, feeling ill. It was her handwriting. She stared at the floor in silence and brushed a hand roughly over her eyes to wipe away the tears.
Sadrik nodded in satisfaction. “As I thought. Now I will have an explanation, or I will call a meeting of the Elders to have you removed.”
Kariana shook her head. “I don’t know why, Sadrik. It’s my signature, but I didn’t order these men killed. I don’t even know them.”
Sadrik sighed. “You’re not leaving me any options, Kariana.”
Kariana glared at him with bloodshot, teary eyes. “I just don’t see how, if I were so fucked up as to not even remember, if I couldn’t even sign my name properly, how did I get the document written? How did I make arrangements to have someone try to kill Aiul’s wife?”
Sadrik eyed her warily for long moments, the rage slowly draining from him. He gave a slight grunt and nodded. “There is that.”
“I didn’t do this, Sadrik. I didn’t!”
“Then find me another explanation. You clearly signed the order. If you didn’t draw it up, someone else must have. Who? Did you see anyone last night?”
Kariana shook her head. “I don’t remember.” She paused, thinking. “I left the prison. I went to Narelki’s and made a complete fool of myself. Then I came back here.”
“That much we agree on. Caelwen followed you.”
“He what?”
“And saved your life, doubtless, from muggers. Don’t be an idiot. It’s his duty. Go on.”
“That’s all. I came home. I….” She paused again, as memories slowly revealed themselves. “Marissa was here.”
Sadrik’s scowl deepened. “Mei! You imbecile!”
“What? She’s my friend!”
“She’s House Prosin, you bleating sheep! They are all serpents! What did she do?”
“I was so tired. She hugged me and told me it would be okay, and she gave me something to help me sleep.”
“And no doubt, you remember nothing after that.”
“I must have passed out.”
Sadrik rolled his eyes. “You were drugged, fool.”
“No!” Kariana was reeling. “She’s my friend! I’ve known her since we were children!”
“It is a common tactic. They have children from their House befriend children in the other houses. It’s usually a source of information, but in this case, your brother’s accident gave them direct access to the ruler of Nihlos! How fortunate for them!”
Kariana stood in stunned silence for long moments. Mei! Her brother’s accident, the one she had been accused of engineering, was Marissa? It was unbelievable!
“It can’t be,” she said. “It doesn’t fit. Why would Marissa try to have Aiul’s wife killed?”
Sadrik shrugged. “Who knows? Perhaps to make it look like you were clearly out of your mind. Perhaps because she’s not quite a perfect spy and had some genuine feelings for you, enough to seek vengeance for you. Does it really matter?” He shook his head in consternation. “The attempt failed, and he’s out for your blood, and he may well get away with killing you. You are not well liked, cousin, and House Amrath is not to be trifled with. If Aiul manages to end you, Narelki has the clout and the skill to get him off the hook.”
“No! He would never do such a thing!”
Sadrik threw up his hands in frustration. “You are empress, Kariana. It is time you gave up this childish viewpoint. You’ve seen what Marissa is capable of. Keep it in mind when dealing with others.” He looked at her a moment, letting his point sink in, then reached beneath his robe and produced a small, gilded dagger. “Keep this with you. You may well have need of it.”
Kariana reached slowly for the weapon, feeling sicker than she had since she had awoken. The thought that she might shove this wicked piece of metal into Aiul’s body was too horrific to contemplate, and yet she knew Sadrik was right. It was time to be realistic. She reached into her own dirty robe and placed the knife at her belt.
It was all too much. Her life was a horrific nightmare from which she could not wake. She had no friends at all, now, no one to trust. No one except cruel, spiteful Sadrik. She could, she thought, trust him. He was simply too cruel to be manipulating her. He took too much pleasure in mocking her failures.
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.
“Eh?”
“What do I do, Sadrik?”
Sadrik suddenly laughed out loud. “Why, I expect you’ll be assassinated in short order, most likely.”
“You’re horrid! I have nothing and no one! Tell me what I should do now!”
Sadrik shot her a sour look. “You don’t actually think I am going to serve you like some vizier? I have affairs of my own to manage. I’m simply trying to help my eternally stupid cousin before she gets herself killed. Don’t expect me to be at your beck and call.”
“You have to help me!” she shouted, furious now. “My whole life, you’v
e done nothing but mock me! But this isn’t just me, it’s House Tasinal! It’s Nihlos! Father never taught me a damned thing about ruling. Mei, why didn’t you take this job and I could have gone on just being pretty and having fun!”
Sadrik's cruel features wavered briefly with some undefinable emotion. Is he feeling guilty? Good! “I had another path,” he answered, perhaps a bit too sharply. “A more important one.”
“What could be more important than Nihlos? It’s our birthright, Sadrik! It’s our obligation!”
Sadrik scoffed at the notion. “Your obligation. I accept none of it.”
“Selfish bastard!”
“Yes! Exactly!” Sadrik shouted. “I hate almost everyone I know! I despise them for their stupidity, their weakness! I will never accept responsibility for them! I'd be happier if they all dropped dead.”
Kariana swallowed at the lump in her throat. When she spoke, it was difficult to keep her voice steady. It's so strange when you're actually feeling what you're usually faking. She wiped absently at sweat beading on her temple. Why is it so hot, suddenly? “Do you hate me? Would you laugh to see me dead, too?”
Sadrik opened his mouth to speak, appeared to reconsider, and his face softened. “Aye, you have the right of it, and I am sorry, Kariana. I will not give up my own life for you, but I will help you this once.”
“Oh, thank you, Sadrik!”
“Don’t thank me overmuch. I’ll give you some advice, and introduce you to some people, but I have no intention of holding your hand through this. If you can’t find your own way out of this hole you’ve dug for yourself, I’ve my doubts as to whether you deserve to survive, much less rule. If you insist on continuing with this foolishness, House Tasinal and Nihlos could be equally served by your early demise. Do we understand one another?”
Kariana nodded, clenching her jaw in shame at the rebuke. Sadrik was speaking truth, unpleasant though it was. That was what she most needed right now, cold, hard truth, not some toady cozening favor.
“Very well then. Let’s first consider Marissa. Here is what you do about her: nothing.”
“Just let her get away with this?”
“Aye. Go on about your life as if you know nothing untoward. It can be useful to have a spy, if you are aware of what they are. She’s exposed now, but until she realizes it, she will be your tool instead of the reverse. You can tell her what you like, and she’ll dutifully report it to her masters. When the time comes to strike back at House Prosin, she will serve as an excellent delivery mechanism for misinformation.”
Kariana swallowed hard and nodded again. That would be difficult, painful even, but she had always been good at lying. “Go on.”
“You said before you had no one to trust. I know some people. They’re loyal, as long as you pay them on time. Some of them are Housed, but their loyalty lies elsewhere.”
Kariana stared at Sadrik in shock. “Assassins?”
Sadrik shrugged. “Too narrow a term, I should think. They…solve problems. Murder is just one of their methods.”
“How do you know such people?”
“Does it matter? The fact is, you know them too, now, or you will soon, at any rate. This is not a game, Kariana. This is what it takes to rule. I say again, cousin: It’s time to grow up.”
Yes, she thought to herself. It truly is.
Chapter 7: Treason
The guards at the prison took no more notice of the silent, hooded figure than they had done any other time he had come. Aiul smiled to himself, pleased at having been able to use Kariana’s paranoia against her. He made his way through the cell block and beyond the torture chamber, to the true pits of Nihlos’s prison. There had always been those few prisoners who could neither be killed nor allowed to ever communicate information they carried to anyone else, not even the damned, and a place had been provided for them as well. Aiul only knew it existed because he had read of the design in the Great Father’s private journals.
Little had changed since Amrath had drawn his maps. There was a hidden door, just where Amrath promised it to be, and the pass phrase Aiul spoke had the desired result. A seam appeared in the solid rock of the wall, first a thin outline of dull, red light, rising to orange, then searing white. Aiul could feel the magic of the device crackle in the air, warm and cold at the same time, ethereal, the wondrous power the Founders had commanded. Within moments, the section separated and slid slowly into the floor.
Aiul was pleased to see that the Great Father had seen fit to care for his progeny so well. He must have known we would come to this, blades at each other’s throats.
A rough-hewn passage lay beyond the door, wide enough for five men to stand abreast. The place was lit by small, glowing nodules that ran along the ceiling, odd devices like nothing Aiul had ever seen. He stepped through quickly, and spoke the closing phrase. The section of wall rose once again and merged with the surrounding stone as if it had never come apart.
According to the book, this section of the prison was designed not to channel sound, but to seal against it. Aiul traveled perhaps a hundred feet, then passed through a series of switchbacks, where the walls changed from poorly finished stone to flat, polished, rune-graven surfaces. The mark of House Yorn was etched there as well, as it was in almost every magical device of true power. Yorn himself may have worked these walls.
He paused in the small maze and ran a hand across the intricate patterns, marveling at the construction and the absolute silence that it created. There were few in Nihlos who could work such bindings as the sound wards now, perhaps none, but in the days before Tasinal had vanished, there had been many skilled at such sorceries. Entire guilds had flourished in those times, when sorcery had been as honorable a profession as medicine. He felt a great emptiness in his soul that such glory was long gone, squandered in feuds and vendettas, until Tasinalt had taken the draconian measure of outlawing not only the craft, but the very religion of the founders. Mei was hardly a god of benevolence, but what wonders his followers had brought forth following his creed! There was, Aiul considered, genuine beauty in the narcissism of the Meites.
Reluctantly, he turned from the walls and continued on his way, passing through the silent labyrinth and emerging once again into rough tunnels. Ahead, he heard shouts, and he paused a moment, the enormity of what he was doing suddenly heavy on his shoulders.
I am a traitor, he told himself. It hardly mattered if he carried out his plan or not. Merely being here was enough to damn him. He thought of Lara. Kariana would kill her and his unborn child. She would try again, there was no doubt. He had no choice. He was simply playing the game that he had been forced into. There was victory, or death, and this was his only chance.
Aiul entered the holding area, making no attempt at stealth. His footsteps announced his coming long before he arrived, and the voices fell silent.
The prisoners, twenty in all, were secured in a large cage in the middle of the room. He had read of them in Amrath’s writings, seen their brutal handiwork up close, but neither had even remotely prepared him for the reality.
They are even darker than I imagined. Their glaring, hate-filled eyes, narrow with distrust, hovered above clenched jaws, contempt the only emotion the prisoners were willing to allow him to see. They showed little sign of deprivation, though surely they had been fed little or nothing since their arrival a week past. Aiul shuddered to imagine what an entire nation of such warriors could accomplish.
One, presumably the leader, called out, “Where is Yazid?” The voice was deep, brutal, frightening, the accent hard to follow, but he spoke words Aiul knew.
Aiul removed his hood and moved as close to the cage as he dared, mindful to stay out of arm’s reach. “The one the Empress interrogated?” Cool and businesslike. No condolences. These are hard men. They will not appreciate a soft touch. “He is dead.”
Curses and threats erupted from the prisoners, but the leader held up his hand, and the rest grew quiet once again. “How did he die?”
With a blade in his throat, a smile on his lips, and Kariana’s sanity clutched firmly between his teeth. “He died well.”
The leader nodded and raised his eyebrows in wary appreciation. “I would not expect a barbarian to understand our ways.” The others nodded and murmured amongst themselves.
“I am a doctor, and a historian. I know a little about your people. You are honorable warriors, yes?”
The prisoner nodded. “A dishonorable man has no right to call himself warrior.” He slammed a fist against his chest. Some kind of salute. “What is your name, doctor and historian?”
“Aiul, of House Amrath,” Aiul answered. He did his best to emulate the salute, striking his own chest hard, as the prisoner had done.
The prisoner raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Truly, you are the blood of Amrath?”
“You know of him?”
“A good soldier must know his history.” The Southlander stretched languidly and extended his arms through the bars, smiling. I’ll want to stand well clear of his reach. “It is said amongst our people that Amrath was as wise as he was wicked.”
Aiul shrugged and gave a brief nod at this. It was a fair judgment. “You offer me no name in return.”
“I am Brutus Samir, Tribune of Prince Philip’s legion, and servant of Ilaweh.”
Aiul nodded again, his mind racing to think of the right words that would compel these hardened warriors to work with him. “How do you feel about dying here, in this cage?” he asked at last.
Brutus spat on the floor as an answer, and drew his arms back into the cage to fold them across his chest.
“I thought as much. I have grim news. Our empress has gone completely mad since you have arrived. She has slain all of the men who know of your presence here. She will likely slay you as well, and soon.”
Brutus’s face grew dark with anger. He slammed his fists against the bars of his cage. “For what crime?”
“Espionage, I presume.”
“We are no spies! We deserve ransom as soldiers!”
Aiul sighed and nodded. “You do not deserve to be imprisoned at all, that I have seen. But you must understand, Nihlos is not a place of justice now.” He struggled to keep from choking as he spoke, feeling his face hardening and jaw muscles clenching. Something jagged seemed to poke at the soft places in his mind, prodding and provoking him toward deeds that, until recently, would have shocked and horrified him. “It never was.”