by Claire Frank
Tess hesitated, but Brynn nodded encouragement. “She is not.”
“That’s fine,” Isley said, her tone soothing. “Perhaps General Gwinele is not ready to accept me for who I am.”
Tess’s eyes widened and she leaned forward. “Yes, exactly Reinara Isley. I swear to you, she will see you for who you are. You must only give her time.”
Leaning back, Isley smiled. Gwinele’s servant feared for her mistress, and had come to convince Isley that Gwinele would one day believe in her. How quaint.
“I’m certain you’re correct, Tess. The truth is sometimes difficult to accept, even when it is right before our eyes.” She made a show of flicking her eyes up to the statue. “Even our glorious Emperor did not see me for who I am in the beginning. These things take time.”
Tess’s shoulders relaxed and she nodded, her face bright.
“Tess,” Isley said. She paused, licking her lips. “The Emperor relies a great deal on your mistress for counsel, but he has been very preoccupied of late. The move into Halthas seems to be taking longer than he anticipated. Is your mistress concerned?”
“She is,” Tess said. “Halthas is a dangerous place, full of Wielders who roam unchecked.”
“Mmm,” Isley said. “Indeed, it is a dangerous time we face. It was a surprise to your mistress, when His Eminence sent his other general to Halthas, the one they call Axxus, was it not?”
Tess’s breath caught in her throat and she swallowed hard. “Yes, it was unexpected.”
Isley picked up a fig and turned it over in her fingers. Now she was getting somewhere. “Of course it was. I suppose your mistress believed she would be the one to go to Halthas. After all, she’s one of the emperor’s most trusted councilors.”
“I do not think that was what distressed my mistress,” Tess said. “She is always sent when the people have been subdued, not before.”
Interesting. “I see. Then why would you say it bothered your mistress for Axxus to be sent ahead of schedule?”
Tess shook her head and looked up at Brynn. “I cannot.”
“Oh Tess, your mistress is so fortunate to have you in her service,” Isley said. “Your loyalty is admirable, but I am simply trying to know General Gwinele better. She is very important to His Eminence, and therefore to me as well. Perhaps if I gained a deeper understanding of your mistress, I could find a way to convince her of my true nature, before it is too late for her.”
Tess nodded and took a deep breath. “Please, Reinara Isley, I beg of you not to speak these words to anyone. It is forbidden what my mistress has done.”
Isley forced herself to keep her features smooth but her heart hammered in her chest. Forbidden? She nodded for Tess to continue.
“General Gwinele is not envious of General Axxus,” Tess said, her voice a small whisper. “She fears for him when he goes to war. He is her lover.”
Tess’s face contorted and her eyes filled with tears. Isley couldn’t understand the woman’s obvious shame and worry. People took lovers all the time. She glanced up at Brynn and raised an eyebrow.
Brynn’s mouth was open, her eyes wide. “As Tess says, this is forbidden. None in the emperor’s household may indulge in such a way without his permission. Tess, are you certain this is true?”
“Yes,” she said, looking at the ground and pressing her hands to her chest. “They have given over to their temptations many times, since long before I was in her service. They hide their tryst from everyone, even me. But I have seen them together, deep in the night. I know this to be so.”
Isley remained silent, tapping a finger against her lips as the servant’s body shuddered.
Raising her eyes, Tess reached out and clutched at the hem of Isley’s dress. “Please, Reinara, please forgive her for her transgressions. My mistress is a good woman.”
Isley clicked her tongue. “She flouts the emperor’s law in his own house?”
“No,” Tess said. “She does not mean to. The urges of the body are so hard to suppress. Please, do not reveal her weakness to him. His Eminence may kill her if he discovers what she has done. I will make her stop, I swear it. I will tell her I know and make her promise to end it. Please.”
Isley reached forward and clasped Tess’s hand in her own. “My dear child, you have nothing to fear for your mistress. You have done right in coming to me. Now I see what holds her back. This illicit affair clouds her mind and closes her heart. But I will be the bringer of light. Through me, she will see the error of her ways, and come to believe in the truth.”
Tears spilled from Tess’s eyes as she gazed at Isley. “Thank you, my Reinara. You bring sweet mercy to the Empire.”
Letting go of the woman’s hand, Isley leaned back, adjusting herself against the soft cushion. She smiled at Tess as Brynn led her away, tears still streaming down Tess’s cheeks. Her chest bubbled with mirth, and it took all her self-control not to laugh out loud. Gwinele, entangled in a secret romance with Axxus, against Horadrus’s will. It was simply too delicious. All at once, her plans clicked into place. Gwinele, who had been such a thorn in Isley’s side, would be a problem no longer.
52. CONSEQUENCES
The horse’s hooves clicked along the road as Daro made his way back into camp. He was dirty and worn out, ready for a decent meal and, if he had any luck, a full night’s rest. His legs ached from spending so much time in a saddle, and the sight of the stronghold looming ahead made him breathe a sigh of relief.
Looking out over the encampment, he wondered if Rogan had arrived with reinforcements yet. Judging by the state of the camp, he guessed not. The burned-out tents were gone, leaving holes in the orderly grid and, if anything, the number of people bustling about seemed smaller than before, certainly not larger.
Cecily rode next to him; the others followed behind. “I’ll need to report what we found to the general,” Daro said. “I’ll come find you when I’m done.”
She nodded and they dismounted near the stables, shouldering their nearly empty packs. As much as Daro was dreading it, he knew he needed to see the general first thing.
People looked up, watching them as they passed through the camp on their way to the stronghold. Faces were drawn and while a few nodded to him as he walked by, others looked away. The mood was grim and Daro glanced around, wondering what had happened while they were gone.
As they approached the stronghold, General Coryn, flanked by several uniformed soldiers on each side, marched toward them. The general stopped, her nostrils flaring, and planted her feet wide.
“Commander Daro, you are hereby arrested for disobeying direct orders. Take him,” she said, gesturing with a nod of her head.
Four men approached Daro on either side. “Your weapons,” one said, holding out his hands and nodding toward the sword at Daro’s belt.
“What?” Daro asked. Cecily pushed toward him, but he held up a hand to keep her back. “What are you talking about, General?”
Coryn took a step forward. “King Rogan put you under my command, therefore you are expected to adhere to the law, as am I. You disobeyed a direct order. The punishment is clear.”
Daro’s mouth dropped open and anger flared in his gut, but he looked around at the crowd beginning to gather around him. The general wasn’t wrong. She had ordered him to stay and he had willfully disobeyed. He’d assumed she would be angry, but he hadn’t expected to be arrested. The last thing he wanted was to cause a scene in front of half the camp, so he clenched his teeth and unbuckled his sword belt. Instead of handing it over to the soldier, he gave it to Cecily, who took it with wide eyes. He unfastened his baldric and took Katalis from his back, the sword still wrapped tight, and gave it to his wife.
“It’s okay,” he said to her, his voice low. “I’ll take care of this.”
Serv put a hand on Cecily’s arm and drew her back as Daro turned to the soldiers. One of them held out a set of thick iron shackles. Daro’s neck clenched at the thought of being bound, but he told himself he could break them if he
had to.
“Is that really necessary?” he asked.
The soldier glanced back at Coryn, who nodded, her lips pressed in a thin line. “Afraid so, Commander,” the soldier said.
Daro took a breath and held out his wrists. The soldier clamped the shackles onto his forearms, turning the key to lock them. The cold metal bit into his skin, but he refused to flinch. The situation was deteriorating rapidly, and he only hoped he’d have a chance to explain things to the general before they actually locked him up in a cell.
He felt a spike of anger from Cecily as the soldier led him away, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Serv’s arm across her shoulders, holding her in place. Her eyes were tight, locked on Daro, and the lines of her jaw stood out as Griff leaned in to speak to her. Daro groaned inwardly and turned, following the soldiers into the stronghold.
They led him through a corridor and down a set of narrow stairs to a block of cells with heavy wooden doors. One of the men unlocked a door and held it open while another ushered Daro inside.
It was indeed a cell, with nothing but a bare stone floor and a waste bucket in the corner. There were no windows and the only light came from a small glowstone lamp one of the soldiers hung from a hook on the back of the door.
General Coryn followed them in and dismissed the men. They left, although Daro could tell two stayed outside, guarding each side of the door.
Daro looked around, feeling bewildered. “Are you actually leaving me in here?”
“Obviously,” Coryn said. “The law is quite clear, Commander. After such blatant disobedience, you’re lucky I don’t see you hanged.”
“Hanged? General, let me explain what we found.”
She shook her head slowly. “This is why I didn’t want you under my command in the first place. Do you think you are exempt from following orders, simply because of your name? You may have a reputation, and I admit you are a Wielder of exceptional power, but none of that makes you a soldier.”
“We were attacked from within our own camp,” Daro said, his anger rising. “You would have left us vulnerable? We found how the Attalonians were getting in. They had ships at anchor just two days from here, with ropes to climb up the cliff. Shale and I destroyed all but one of their ships and killed their men. If I hadn’t gone after them, they would have attacked again, and who knows who they would have captured.”
“We would not have been left vulnerable,” Coryn said, her voice sharp. “Knowing they had access to our camp from the north, I redoubled the watch on that side, and will question anyone who tries to enter. I tightened our perimeter to ensure it won’t happen again, and if I later had men to spare, we could have gone after the attackers.”
“Later?” Daro said. “They made off with one of our men. You abandoned Blur.”
“And did you retrieve him?” she asked.
“No,” Daro said. “He was dead before we got there.”
“Let me explain something to you,” Coryn said. “You left your post, against my explicit orders, to pursue one man. While you were gone, the enemy attacked. How many men do you think we lost? How many men would have lived, if you and your company had been here?”
Daro ground his teeth together. “I don’t know.”
“We lost three thousand men that night, Commander. Three thousand,” she said, enunciating each word. “We were nearly overrun and our numbers have been severely depleted. We needed you here. Your refusal to follow orders cost us hundreds, if not thousands of men.”
Taking a step back, Daro felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. Thousands? Since the Attalonians’ first assault, they must have lost half their number. He didn’t know if they could hold the bridge with so few.
“When are the reinforcements coming?” he asked.
“That is no longer your concern,” Coryn said. “The law dictates you will be imprisoned until it is time for you to be disciplined. You will receive fifty lashes, in full view of the encampment, after which time you will be confined here until I receive word from His Majesty as to what to do with you. Your wife is here under the dictates of the Lyceum, so she is free to do as she pleases. As to the rest of your men, they will not be disciplined for your actions. You are their commander and I hold you entirely responsible. From this point forward, they will report to Lord Pathius, who will take your position and assume control of your company.”
Daro was dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to speak, but Coryn cut him off.
“And, Daro,” she said, lowering her voice. “I am well aware that neither those irons, nor this door, can truly hold you against your will. But if you have any honor left, you’ll stay here and take what’s coming to you.”
Without another word, she turned and closed the door. Daro heard the sound of the lock clicking and three sets of footsteps echoed down the hall.
Daro staggered backward and leaned against the wall, struggling to maintain calm. Being locked in a cell made his body tense with panic. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, trying to slow his pounding heart.
Stay in control. Stay in control.
Although energy surged through him, he didn’t break his shackles. The general was right; the cell couldn’t hold him. He could rip the irons from his arms and break down the door with ease. But her words echoed in his mind. If you have any honor left.
Sliding his back down the wall, he sat with his arms resting on his knees, and waited for them to come for him.
***
The click of the latch woke Daro with a start and he sucked in a breath as the door opened. A tall figure stepped in, wearing a loose dress and a cowl over her head. The pocketed apron at her waist marked her as a Serum Shaper, one of the camp healers.
He didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, or what time it was. His body was stiff from lying on the hard floor, and he pushed himself up to sitting, an effort made awkward by the shackles on his wrists.
The woman crouched down, her face hidden in the shadow of her hood. For half a moment he wondered if it was Cecily, come in disguise to free him, although he knew he would recognize her regardless of what she wore.
The woman pulled his arms straight and inspected what was left of the wounds on his forearms from the Attalonian bracers, then probed his forehead. Had the general sent her? Cecily had cleaned his injuries the first time they’d stopped as they followed the attackers, but he supposed they might still need attention.
“Stand and take off your shirt,” she said.
Daro stood, narrowing his eyes in confusion. There was a familiarity to her voice that tugged at his memory and he tried to get a better look at her face, but she turned before he could see her features. “Why?”
“You are to be disciplined just after dawn. I’m here to prepare you so your injuries won’t become infected.”
He didn’t much like the sound of that, but he stood still while she pulled his shirt over his head and let it hang down across his bound arms. She took a jar out of an apron pocket and poured thick oil into her other hand, which she rubbed across the skin of his back.
“Do you know what they’re going to do to me?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said as she continued applying the salve.
“Do you know why?”
She paused and drew her hand away. He looked over his shoulder at her, hoping for a glimpse of her face, but she turned away.
“I do,” she said. Her voice was smooth, almost lyrical.
“It doesn’t make any sense,” he said, his frustration rising. “I only did what I thought was right.”
“Is that true?” she asked. Her hand began moving across his back again. “Is that why you left?”
“Of course it is,” he said. “Someone had to go after them.”
“That may be,” she said, “but if you search yourself, I think you will see your reasons are not so simple.”
“What are you talking about?”
She paused and the salve burned as she rubbed it across his back.
“You
didn’t ask for this,” she said as she worked. “You never wanted to fight for anyone, or for people to call you a hero. But you did, and they do. You didn’t ask to be made into what you are, but many men and women died to give you the gifts you now possess. They didn’t want their fates any more than you wish for yours. You chafe under the authority of others, but it isn’t their command you resent. You resent yourself, and you try desperately to run from who you are.”
Daro stepped to the side and turned toward the woman. “Who are you?”
She lowered her jar, her face still hidden by shadow. “You didn’t ask for power, but you have it. Now you must decide what you will do with it. Will you continue to run? Or will you find within yourself the strength to serve?”
Daro swallowed hard. He didn’t know what to say to her. It was as if she’d looked straight into his heart.
Stepping back behind him, she rubbed the last of the salve across his skin. “This will not be pleasant and it is not for me to say whether it is just. It is another thing you did not choose, nor do you agree with the reason. But that isn’t what matters, and it isn’t why I’m here.”
“Why are you here?” he asked.
“To tell you that even the worst things can be used for good. This punishment will be excruciating and it will push you to your limits, but I believe it will show you what you need to see. You must accept the pain they offer you, rather than harden yourself to it. Halthas will soon face something far worse than arrows, and they will need you.”
She moved toward the door and as she turned back, the dim light illuminated her face.
“Lyria?” Daro whispered as she slipped silently out the door.
He pulled his shirt back over his head, wondering at who he had seen. He’d met a woman in the Deep Forest, outside Imara, who had called herself Lyria. Balsam had claimed she was what they called a Maersere, a herald of the Creator. Was this the same woman? What had she meant?
No further sound came from the hallway outside, so he sat back down as the skin of his back burned, and waited.
It wasn’t long before several soldiers came for him. He stood as they opened the door, then ushered him out through the hallway. None of them would make eye contact, so Daro kept his gaze fixed ahead as they led him out of the stronghold.