Dark Lady's Chosen

by Gail Z. Martin

  Finally, the fifth bells rang. Royster began to put away his books, and Taru stretched. Carina thought that even Riqua looked tired. "Riqua needs to take her rest," Taru said. "And Royster and I must eat." She looked with concern at Carina. "You shouldn't push your strength too far, Carina. After a short break, Royster and I'll come back and resume the work. You should rest."

  Carina watched them go, and moved to follow.

  "I thought you were going to rest?" Lisette had entered from the sitting room so quietly that Carina had not heard her approach.

  Carina gave a wan smile. "I will. But my head is so full right now, I thought I might go to the chapel to think."

  Lisette nodded. "We've kept you out of the sunlight as a precaution. Please, m'lady, stick to the inner corridors. Sunlight burns terribly when you're newly brought across."

  Carina nodded. "You need to rest, also. I'll be all right," she reassured Lisette.

  Carina let herself out of the room and made her way through Dark Haven's protected inner corridors down the steep steps to the chapel of the Dark Lady. Banks of candles ringed the room, and the torchlight behind the huge stained glass depiction of the Dark Lady made the figure seem to sway. As usual, the chapel was empty. Carina had never even glimpsed the vayash morucaretaker who kept the candles burning and tended the torches that lit the stained glass here in an underground sanctuary where daylight never reached.

  Born in Isencroft, Carina had been raised to the Aspect of Chenne, the Warrior. As she and Cam hired on with the mercenaries of Principality and Eastmark, Carina had learned the ways of most of the other Aspects, and found that, as a healer, her heart was drawn most to Margolan's dual allegiance to the Mother and Childe. But alone in the chapel, Carina could not take her eyes from the glowing face of Istra, the Dark Lady, in the magnificent stained glass at the front of the chapel.

  Wild, black hair framed Istra's darkly beautiful face. Red lips were pulled back to reveal sharp eye teeth beneath. But the expression was that of refuge, not of threat, and Carina found herself drawn to the glowing amber eyes, eyes that seemed to follow her as the torchlight gave the entire stained glass image the illusion of motion.

  She had ventured to the chapel with the vague hope that she might find comfort. Now that she was here, she felt at a loss. She had no idea how followers of the Dark Lady made their offerings, or whether Istra might take offense if an offering were made to her in the manner of one of the other Aspects. Carina made the sign of the Lady and bowed low, and murmured the words of a half-remembered prayer from her childhood.

  "In the dark places, I call to You. In the barren places, I seek Your face. Comfort me in the night, for I have no consolation. Lead, and I will follow."

  A slight breeze slipped past Carina, enough to make the candle flames tremble and to ripple the surface of the reflecting pool that lay in front of the largest statute. It was a magnificent depiction of Istra, her protective cloak spread wide, lifting the broken body of one of her vayash moruchildren toward the sky, her features twisted with grief.

  Just as Carina was about to leave, she saw a small bundle near the foot of the statue. She walked over, and reached down to pick up a stylus and a bottle of ink. Carina sank down to her knees, recognizing the intent that brought the items to the altar.

  "Jonmarc's made Istra's Bargain," Carina murmured aloud. Riqua was right. He knew what it would cost to destroy Malesh. He's not coming back. She hugged her knees and rested her forehead against them, finding that tears were denied her. A glow lit the air next to her, and Raen's form gradually grew more solid. The ghost girl laid an insubstantial hand on Carina's shoulder in comfort, and sat beside her in silence as Carina rocked back and forth, inconsolable.

  Chapter Four

  My Dearest Tris

  There's been no word of how the siege is going, and my imagination is inventing all kinds of reasons that I haven't heard from you. Please send some note to ease my mind. I miss you terribly.

  I'm doing well and the baby is beginning to show. Perhaps now I can keep some food down. Cerise says the stomach problems will go away, but not soon enough for me. Crevan means to keep me safe, but I'm not used to staying in my rooms all day with a guard at my door. Harrtuck has gone with some guardsmen to put down a problem in the hill country, and it seems as if one by one, old friends slip out of reach.

  There's so much I want to tell you, but I don't dare trust it in a letter. When you return, so many things will be set right. Until then, we're doing our best to carry on.

  I pray the siege will be short and that you can come back soon. Stay safe, and send word.

  With love, Kiara

  Kiara sighed and slipped the note into an envelope, then sealed it with hot wax and pressed her signet, marking the wax with the crest of Margolan's queen. She handed the letter to Crevan, the seneschal.

  "You're certain my letters are included in the packets that you send to the front?" Kiara probed.

  The thin man fidgeted, reminding Kiara of a long-legged bird. "Yes, my queen. But the snows are deep, and even documents that require the king's signature are not returning quickly. Some have not come back at all. It takes most of a week to reach where the army is camped-and that's when the roads are passable and there are no brigands. I fear the king has other matters on his mind." Crevan smiled. "I'm sure your letters to him are a comfort, even if he's not able to respond. I have another messenger leaving tomorrow with the supplies."

  "Thank you," Kiara murmured.

  "Begging your pardon, m'lady, but you look tired. Perhaps you should rest."

  Kiara sighed. "I will. I just need to slow my thoughts."

  "As you wish, m'lady. Shall I have some tea and cakes sent up?"

  Kiara shook her head. "Thank you, no. Macaria brought up some mulled cider. I'll have some later."

  "Sleep well, m'lady."

  Kiara turned away as she shut the door. "I'm worried, Cerise." Tonight, she sat up late in Cerise's room, since the healer stayed up later than either Alle or Macaria. "It's been almost three months since the army left and I haven't received any notes at all from Tris. That's not like him." She set the letter aside. Beyond the frost-covered windows, the bells in the bailey tower chimed midnight. Jae, her small gyregon, lay as close to the fire as he dared, curled up to stay warm. Tris's three dogs, two wolfhounds and the mastiff, sprawled near the fire as well.

  "There are all kinds of reasons why," Cerise said gently. "The war may give him very little time for personal luxuries. The king may hesitate to send so personal a message through uncertain hands. Your mother fretted for all the same reasons when your father was away on campaign."

  "I wish Tris were here, Cerise," Kiara said quietly. "So many things have happened since the army left. Malae's death. Mikhail and Bian locked up. Harrtuck sent away with the troops. And the attacks... " Her voice drifted off. "I don't want to tell him about what's happened-he has enough on his mind. But I know that if he were here, we'd get to the bottom of it." Her hand fell to the slight curve at her belly. "Staying locked up in my rooms seems like a poor way to manage my first months as queen!"

  Cerise laid a hand on her shoulder. "Until we know who's behind the attacks, there's no choice." She smiled. "It's late. Crevan's right; you should rest."

  Kiara nodded and stood, stretching. "If I don't hear from Tris soon, I'm going to scry. What good is the regent magic if I never use it?" Cerise always kept the windows open at night, and a cold breeze fluttered the parchment on the desk, making Kiara shift to move out of the chill.

  Cerise frowned. "Carroway told me how dangerous it was when you tried to scry on your journey."

  "That was because of the Obsidian King and Foor Arontala. They're gone now."

  "There are still dark things that seek you-and your child-on the nether plains. Please Kiara, reconsider."

  Kiara nodded tiredly. "All right. For now. Good night, Cerise."

  Carrying her candle, Kiara moved to the doorway that separated her rooms from Cerise's.
Jae and the dogs stirred from their spot near the fire to follow her. Kiara opened the door, and saw that Alle had taken up a spot for the night in a chair near the fire, and that Macaria had fallen asleep at the table, with her head on her music and her flute beside her on the floor. Kiara smiled and walked over to gently shake Macaria. When she didn't wake, Kiara set the candlestick on the table and used both hands to shake Macaria by the shoulders.

  "Wake up, sleepyhead! You'll have a cramp in your neck."

  Macaria did not rouse. Kiara turned toward where Alle was sprawled in her chair. "Alle, wake up!"

  Alle did not move, but Cerise came to the doorway. "What's wrong, Kiara?"

  "They won't wake up!"

  Cerise closed her eyes and sniffed the air, extending one hand as she used her healer's magic. Her eyes opened wide. "Bad air. Open the windows wide-hurry!"

  Kiara ran to open the mullioned windows and threw both sets open as far as the heavy leaded panes would go. She helped Cerise drag Macaria and Alle close to the cold, fresh air, and fanned them as Cerise went for cold water and her healer's pack.

  "Can we open the balcony doors in the king's room?" Cerise asked. Kiara used her key to open the double doors that separated her sitting room from Tris's bedchamber, while Cerise went to fetch the guards. Ammond and Hothan, two of Kiara's favorites among the guards, came quickly, lifting Macaria and Alle easily and following Kiara into Tris's chamber. Kiara flung the doors to the snow-covered balcony open. The winter wind blew the curtains wide and wisps of snow drifted onto the Noorish carpet. Ammond and Hothan held the two unconscious women so that the cold wind would blow squarely in their faces, while Cerise daubed their skin with snow.

  "Lay them down," Cerise ordered, and Ammond and Hothan complied. Cerise took a vial of green liquid from the pouch at her belt and forced Alle's mouth open, carefully dropping the sharp-smelling liquid onto her tongue. She did the same for Macaria.

  "None of us has felt well today," Kiara said, helping Cerise administer drops of a second liquid.

  "How did you feel?" Cerise asked tersely as Macaria began to stir. In a moment, Alle groaned and grimaced.

  "Alle's had a headache since this morning, and my stomach's been worse than usual," Kiara replied. "Macaria was complaining of being terribly tired. She perked up some after she went down to practice with the bards for a while, but when she came back this evening, she tired easily." She looked at Cerise. "Do you know what it is?"

  Cerise nodded, tight-lipped. Alle opened her eyes. "Why am I lying in the snow?"

  "What's the last thing you remember?" Cerise asked, letting her hand move from Alle's forehead down her neck and chest, stretching out with her healing magic.

  "I had a horrible headache, and I thought that if I just closed my eyes for a while, that it might be better," Alle replied. "What happened?"

  Macaria caught her breath sharply, and Cerise motioned for Hothan to help her sit. She opened her eyes, and shivered. "Where am I?"

  Kiara knelt beside her. "Safe. We're trying to figure out why you and Alle got sick."

  "It's not sickness," Cerise said in a clipped voice as she finished running her hand over Macaria's forehead. "As soon as I came into your room, my magic told me the air was bad. I've seen this before. Fire sends off bad vapors as well as heat. If something blocks the flue, the bad air fills the room. You're lucky that you were in my room instead of going to bed early. All three of you might have died."

  Kiara and Cerise exchanged a glance. Kiara realized Cerise shared her suspicions. They said nothing as Hothan and Ammond helped Alle and Macaria walk back into the bedchamber, and Kiara secured the balcony doors behind them. Cerise motioned for them to come to her rooms, and made sure the door to Kiara's chambers was shut tightly with blankets sealing the gap beneath it. They opened the windows wide.

  "Tomorrow morning, I want you to check my chimney personally," Kiara instructed Hothan. "If anyone asks, tell them I complained because of the soot. Take a long stick and see if you can find something stuck in there. Once the air clears, we can try the same thing from the bottom."

  "Shall I inform Master Crevan?" Hothan asked.

  Kiara shook her head. "Not yet. Let's see what we find."

  They slept fitfully, huddled together and covered with layers of blankets, as the fire in Cerise's fireplace was no match for the winter wind that blew through the open windows. Jae slept at Kiara's feet, huddled next to Tris's dogs. As soon as it was light, Hothan left his post at the door for the dangerous climb to the palace roof.

  They ate breakfast in Cerise's room and dressed in Tris's chambers, to give the guard time to check the chimney. After another candlemark, Kiara returned to her own rooms, which were freezing cold. The fire had gone out, and the open windows had cleared the air.

  Wrapping her cloak around her, Kiara motioned for Cerise to bring her a lantern and grabbed a poker from near the hearth. Kiara shoveled the embers into the fireplace bucket, and laid a heavy mat over the still-warm hearthstone as she lifted the lantern and twisted into position to see. Gingerly, she poked upward with the iron bar. The bar struck something hard. Kiara handed Cerise the lantern, and poked harder, using both hands. The metal bar rang out against stone.

  "There's something wedged in there, just beyond where I can reach," Kiara said. "It's got the chimney partially blocked."

  "But not beyond the reach of a man," Cerise mused.

  Just then, Hothan returned. His face was red with cold and he was rubbing his hands together. "You're right, m'lady. There was a rock wedged in near the top of the chimney-fit well enough to let the smoke out, but covered enough to keep the bad air in. I was able to pry it loose, but I probably broke a brick or two doing it."

  Kiara dusted herself off and motioned for Hothan to take her place at the hearth. "Thank you. There's something stuck at this end, too. Please, try your luck." She handed him the poker. After a few minutes, Hothan gave a hard push and bits of rock fell to the ground. Kiara bent down and picked up one of the bits, turning it in her hands.

  "That's strange," she mused. She looked at Hothan. "You're quite sure the thing jammed in up above was a rock?"

  Hothan nodded. "More like a shaped rock, from a building. It had been chiseled."

  Kiara looked at Cerise and the others. "This is the same-look at the tool marks."

  "Someone meant for the chimney to be plugged. They meant for us to suffocate," Alle said quietly.

  The seventh bells tolled outside. Macaria jumped up. "I'm due to meet with Carroway and the bards," she said, rushing into Cerise's room to change clothes. "I'll find out if they've heard anything-or seen anyone around the rooftop. And I promise to bring back fresh pastries if cook hasn't sent some up by then." Macaria slipped past the guards and into the hallway.

  "What now?" Alle asked. "One of us has been in the rooms at all times."

  Kiara took the rock and dropped it down the garderobe. "Who came near the fireplace?"

  Alle frowned. "When I've been in the rooms, only the servants who deliver the firewood. Macaria and I take turns leaving for meals, but it's usually the same two men who bring the wood and set the fire morning and evening."

  "Did you notice anything different? Did they spend longer than usual or do anything out of the ordinary?" Cerise asked.

  Alle thought for a moment, and then shook her head. "I have to admit-so long as they came in and went straight to the fireplace and left without touching anything, I didn't hover over them. I don't remember them acting oddly."

  "To most of us, servants are nearly invisible," Cerise said quietly. "That makes them the perfect spies-and the perfect assassins."

  "No one asked to enter your rooms except for the fire starters, and the kitchen servant who brought up your supper," Ammond said. "I agree with Lady Alle. It was the same two men who usually come, and there was nothing about it that stood out in my mind."

  Kiara looked to Ammond. "See if you can find the servants who brought the wood yesterday-morning and evening.
Say that the logs were too green and didn't burn well. Or you might say I didn't like the way the fire was set. Anything to give you an excuse to see if the two regular fire starters made the rounds yesterday and whether anyone is acting suspiciously. We probably can't prove who did this, but perhaps we'll flush out some information."

  "Done, m'lady," Ammond said with a bow, quickly leaving the room.

  "Now, we wait," Kiara said, glancing at Alle, who nodded. "Whoever did this will know something went wrong once it's clear we're not dead. If we're lucky, he or she will double back to figure out what happened. And if we're not lucky... maybe whoever's behind this will wait a while before trying something else."

  Ammond returned within a candlemark. "I found one of the fire starters," he reported. "Caught up with him when he came back to the woodshed for another load. His name is Lasset, and he's been at the palace all his life, except for when he ran away last year to hide from Jared. He's an older man, and he was most distressed that m'lady was unhappy with her fire," Ammond said. "Once I got him to stop apologizing, he mentioned that he hadn't seen Sarrey-that's his partner-since last night. Seems Sarrey missed making the rounds this morning, and left Lasset with the whole job. He says he doesn't do your rooms until after tenth bells in case m'lady wants to sleep late."

  "What about Sarrey?" Kiara asked.

  "That's the interesting part. As I was coming back from the woodshed, there were guards out behind the stables. I went over to see what the excitement was about, and it seems that someone put a knife in Sarrey's back sometime last night." He grimaced. "And since it's a sure bet that Sarrey didn't stab himself, that means someone didn't want him answering any questions."

  "Thank you," Kiara said quietly, sitting down. "That will be all. Say nothing of this to anyone." Ammond and Hothan bowed low and went back to their post in the hallway. "Damn! We still don't know whether we're up against one plotter or more than one-or even what they hope to gain."