Blooded (Lisen of Solsta Book 3)

Home > Other > Blooded (Lisen of Solsta Book 3) > Page 18
Blooded (Lisen of Solsta Book 3) Page 18

by D. Hart St. Martin


  What’s the point? she asked herself. I’m going to breathe eventually. Ondra knows it. They all know it.

  She gave in. She inhaled deeply, surrendered to the drug and accepted its cold caress.

  Ondra, her thoughts burning with what she’d just learned from the girl, navigated the tunnels between where they kept the captive Empir to the Khared’s opening and halted to stare at her idle companions in the mouth of the cave.

  “Up! Up! Get up!” she ordered. “We have work to do. Jadda, I’ll need stylus and parchment. Esar, prepare your horse and be ready to ride as soon as I’ve finished my letter to Korin. We are about to serve the snake its own tail.”

  Rika stepped over to her as she sat down on the ground, and, as Jadda handed her the writing implements and a board on which to write, he whispered, “What are you going to do?”

  “Thank you,” Ondra said to Jadda who turned and walked away. “That little girl in there,” she whispered to Rika, double-checking to make sure no one else was near enough to hear. “That alleged Empir knows little about mating and nothing about its outcome. She doesn’t know her captain pouched her child.”

  “How do you know?” Rika leaned in close so that she could hear his almost silent whisper.

  “It doesn’t matter. I just know. Now let me write.”

  As Rika went silent, Ondra began her letter. She toyed with the wording in her head and then wrote it down. Brief but clear, she invited Korin to witness the execution of his Farii mate. She folded the parchment and called out to Esar who had returned from saddling his horse.

  “By the time you get there,” she said to him, “for certain Korin will be unpouched. Watch his child. Watch it closely. Study who he leaves it with. And if you find an opening, kill it.”

  Esar’s eyes widened, but he controlled his reaction. “As you say,” he said calmly. He placed the letter inside his tunic, mounted his horse and took off. Ondra watched until he’d disappeared into the forest.

  She turned with a sigh from the entrance to the cave, nearly ran into Rika, pushed him aside without a word and headed back to see the Empir. As Ondra entered her cave, the girl lifted her hood-covered head.

  “How much longer are you going to keep me?” the girl asked.

  “Don’t worry. You’ve got at least a few more weeks.” Ondra exited the makeshift dungeon, leaving her captive alone once more.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  hope, just a little

  Sitting in one chair at the conference table, his right leg up on another, Nalin looked around the Empir’s office and sighed. His first time out of his room upstairs, carried down by a guard and a servant, he didn’t feel right about being here without the presence of an Empir. Seven days after sending out the summons to the privy council, the Miras had arrived, and with Bala and the commander already here and Melanda Cabell still several days away, he had decided to begin and let Melanda catch up later.

  Nalin shuffled through the documents, incorporating the notes he’d made upstairs with everything already here. Jazel had been in and out a couple of times since he’d arrived, arranging the paperwork he’d requested for this meeting, and he looked up as she entered the room, yet again, and stepped over to him. She carried nothing, leaving him to wonder what she wanted.

  “Jazel?”

  “My lord, I’ve got a…situation.”

  But before he could request an explanation or Jazel could volunteer one, a voice piped up from behind the clerk.

  “Yes, you do have a situation.”

  Nalin looked past the clerk to see Lorain striding into the room, a baby at her hip. He waved Jazel off.

  “It’s all right. Let her come.”

  “I’m sorry, my lord,” Jazel mouthed, then turned and left the room, passing Lorain as she stepped over to Nalin.

  “Forgive me, Nalin, I know you must be busy. I hear you’ve convened the privy council, so I’ll be quick. This,” she said, turning her hip to display her son prominently, “is our new Empir. I know you’re not happy about it, but here are the facts. Empir Ariannas is most certainly dead. She’s been missing for three weeks without a word. Everyone except you believes that her abductors killed her and got rid of the body, and no matter how many search parties you send out, you’re never going to find her. At some point, you’re going to have to admit this and recognize my son as Empir.”

  “We have no proof she’s dead,” Nalin declared.

  “You have no proof she lives.” Lorain glared at him, and they remained where they were, locked in a stare until Nalin let go.

  “All right, Lorain. You want to know what’s going on? Commander Tanres and I have modified our approach and will be sending the search parties out today with new instructions. Until and unless we learn otherwise, I’m not going to prematurely declare anyone dead.”

  “If you make me wait until Council for this, I’ll appeal it to them.”

  “That’s over a month away. I’ll take the risk. Now, you said you’d be quick. Prove it.”

  Lorain twirled, her long hair whirling out behind her, and she stomped out the door to the hall. Nalin snorted. Leave it to Lorain to insist on making this all about her, he thought. What Lorain didn’t seem to know, or refused to acknowledge, was that the case naming her as a traitor in this affair gained momentum every day. It moved slowly, but the more evidence Nalin got, the more implicated Lorain appeared. He enjoyed a certain satisfaction knowing that.

  His leg ached, and his foot itched. He looked down at his half calf and shook his head. The healer had told him this might go on for a while. The pain he could handle, but an itch required scratching, and he had nothing there to scratch. His whole body shook with the frustration. He’d refused any nectar this morning—first time he’d taken none to start his day since this had all begun. He wanted to be fully awake and aware, but he wondered if he’d mistaken foolish bravado for courage. Titus had warned him the pain might rise and be more difficult to extinguish later when his meeting had concluded and he could seek relief. But he’d made his choice, and he would wait.

  Bala stepped through the door, the first to arrive. She smiled at Nalin, and he added a nod to his smile in return.

  “How are you?” she asked. “I went upstairs, and you were already gone.” She sat down to his right, the chair his leg rested on between them. He appreciated the protective gesture.

  “I wanted to be here ahead of schedule no matter how many delays it took.”

  “And were there any?” Her voice had become like nectar to his soul.

  “No. Damn inconvenient, but I was glad to be quit of that cramped room. I think I heard the servants scurrying to clean the place the second I’d turned the corner for the staircase. Hope they don’t toss out anything I need.”

  Bala smiled. “Good to hear your sense of humor working again.”

  “Yes. A long road, and I’m still traveling it.”

  Commander Tanres entered from Jazel’s office, wearing no armor, just a tunic with her commander’s insignia on it—wings with a sword resting prone on their tips. She carried some paperwork as well. Nalin knew these were reports from the search parties and an outline of the evidence against Lorain. He didn’t know if he was going to discuss the latter with everyone, but he’d asked Tanres to bring it all, just in case.

  “Holder Tuane,” she said, nodding to Bala. “And the Empir’s Will. They got you down the stairs without incident, I trust.”

  “Safely, yes,” Nalin replied, thinking again as he had in the last few days that there had to be a way to reclaim his independence.

  The door to the hall opened, and the Miras filed in, Felso followed by Malaki. Malaki went to the chair opposite Nalin, but Felso came directly to him and placed his hand upon Nalin’s shoulder without a word. Then he took the chair to Nalin’s left.

  “Felso, Malaki. Let’s get started. Melanda should be here in a day or two.”

  He allowed his eyes to graze around the table, gleaning all he could from each of their faces,
and only then did he continue. “Well, let me begin with the obvious. As you’ve no doubt heard, the Empir was abducted three weeks ago today. The short of it is this. The Empir and I went for a ride, and four individuals set upon us and the two guards who were with us. The guards are dead, I lost a foot and part of my leg, as you can see, and the Empir hasn’t been heard from since. And that’s why you are all here.”

  “Creators, Nal,” Malaki said. “The rumors were true.”

  “Commander?” Nalin said, deferring to Tanres for the update on the search.

  “We sent out two search parties,” she began. “They spent two weeks out there, and last week we called them back. They’d found nothing, and Holder Corday and I decided we had to change the plan.”

  “To what?” Felso asked.

  Nalin nodded. “The original parties attempted to pick up a trail, but the abductors—we believe they’re Thristan rebels—appear to be adept at obscuring their passage. So, we’re going to send them back out again in groups of two with assigned areas in which to search.”

  “Are you going to send any to Thristas?” Bala asked, and Nalin heard an unaccustomed edge in her tone. She didn’t like having been excluded from the discussion regarding this decision.

  “We’re going to send word to Pass Garrison,” the commander replied, “and have them send their best infiltrators to find out if there’s word of this in any of the mesas.”

  “Well,” Bala said, “I’m glad to hear you’ve thought of everything.” Nalin looked to her there on his right, shielding his mutilated leg, but she refused to turn in his direction and instead kept her eyes on Tanres.

  Felso tapped a finger on the table as the others remained silent, and Nalin decided to move on.

  “All right, I didn’t call you here to explain the search. If you have any suggestions, please share them, but there are matters which do require your attention. Both involve Holder Zanlot.”

  “Ah,” Felso commented.

  “As you may have heard, she welcomed a son almost two months ago now. The ‘only Heir’ to the throne, as she puts it. She’s correct, of course, but she’s doing everything she can to capitalize on that fact. In short, she wants Empir Ariannas declared dead, her son officially named as Empir, and herself installed as regent. I can hold her off only so long, but once Council convenes, it will have been two months since the Empir was last seen alive. I don’t think it will take much for her to get the votes she needs.”

  “Creators,” Malaki muttered. “What an ego.”

  “And it gets worse. Or better, depending on your point of view. We believe Lorain was involved in the kidnapping.”

  And the room erupted into…silence. They all stared at Nalin, except for Tanres, of course, and said nothing. He’d surprised them with that one.

  “Are you sure?” Felso asked, cutting through the shock.

  “We have testimony from two individuals.” Nalin held up a few sheets of the parchment in front of him. “We expect we’ll have more before we charge her with anything.”

  “But, Nalin,” Malaki said quietly, “we all know how you feel about her.”

  “My lord,” Tanres stepped in. “My lords. I have no feelings one way or the other about Holder Zanlot, except for the fact that she tends to make impossible demands of my guards. However, I concur totally with Holder Corday’s assessment. The evidence is damning.”

  “What do you intend to do?” Felso asked.

  “Pending this council’s recommendations,” Nalin resumed, “my plan currently is to continue gathering evidence and, if it becomes necessary, to arrest her and try her for treason.”

  “You’ve certainly borne the burden of this,” Felso said, patting Nalin’s hand. “If I’d known how bad it was, I would have come to help.”

  “I’m better now. And my first priority has always been to find the Empir. After that, well, there’s Lorain to be considered.”

  “Maybe we should split things up among us,” Bala suggested. “Nalin, I’d leave you in charge of the search operation and take you off Lorain because someone as neutral as possible should take responsibility for investigating her involvement.”

  “Melanda might be the one for that,” Nalin commented.

  “And Father and I can take on Lorain directly about her so-called Heir,” Malaki volunteered.

  “So, the commander and myself on the search, Melanda when she gets here on Lorain, and Felso and Malaki fielding the issue of the Heir. Where does that leave you, Bala?”

  Bala smiled at Nalin. “I’ll coordinate. Everyone reports to me, and I’ll keep everyone focused.”

  “Query,” Malaki spoke up. “What if we determine that Lorain committed treason? What then?”

  “The law is clear,” Nalin replied. “I’ve had time this last week to research it.” He pulled out the page with his notes and read, “‘Anyone, regardless of rank, who aids an enemy or criminal in an act against the Empir must be charged and, if found guilty, convicted of treason and executed.’”

  “Not much room for interpretation there,” Malaki noted.

  “That’s why I think Melanda should take charge of this,” Bala said. “If anything, she’d favor Lorain, and the Council knows it. But they also know she won’t weight the evidence to either side.”

  “In other words, she’ll be fair,” Felso stated.

  “This all sounds good.” Nalin straightened his stack of paper and placed his hand on it. “I’ll take charge of filling Melanda in as soon as she gets here. Now, if you will excuse the commander and myself, there are some weary guards waiting outside to hear about their new assignments.”

  Everyone except Nalin rose, and the commander remained alone with him after they’d left.

  “If you could assist me to the desk….”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  And in a ritual familiar to them both, borne of weeks of Nalin’s need for assistance to get anywhere about his room, Tanres crowded in close to him on the right, and Nalin put that arm over her shoulders to hop over to the chair behind the desk. He expected the guards he and Tanres were about to face to grumble, so with a map awaiting him on the desk—a map with large areas of land outlined in black ink—he prepared himself for an onslaught of protest and complaining. He was exhausted and couldn’t wait to get upstairs and back into bed, but he had to carry out this one last duty before he could rest.

  His head propped up on a pile of clean, folded clothes, Korin lay on the pallet, surrounded by the grey stone walls of his chamber, the two-week-out Rinli’s head buried halfway into his pouch as she suckled at the teat for life-sustaining milk. Wrapped tight in the swaddling clothes of The People, the only part of her body exposed was the top of her dark head. Had he truly pouched and nurtured this miracle for four months without comprehending the nature of her importance?

  “Beautiful” was an insufficient description of his daughter; she inspired a majestic aspiration of emotions. Amazing, filled with light, fortuitous, grand beyond compare—she was all these and more. When others looked at her, they saw an infant; when he looked at her, he saw Mantar’s Child, but was it a fate he wanted for her? Or, was it simply a fate that would arrive, unstoppable, once he told Ariannas the truth?

  Hozia’s words haunted him, as they had since Rinli’s emergence. “You need to tell her,” the Elder had insisted, and Korin knew now that Hozia was right. But he couldn’t bring himself to leave this wonder of life to seek Ariannas out and tell her. Not quite yet. The Empir would have to wait.

  “Korin?”

  He looked up to see Hozia herself standing at his doorway.

  “Elder. I’d get up, but—”

  “No, no. May I enter?”

  The formality of Hozia’s question put Korin on the alert. “You are welcome,” he replied in a similar tone.

  Hozia stepped in and slipped smoothly down into a cross-legged sitting position beside Korin’s pallet, her brown Elder’s robe settling freely around her. He noticed a folded piece of parchment in her
hand. She said nothing, but her expression in the subdued light of the single candle told the always-wary Korin that whatever was written on that paper was about to complicate his life.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “It’s a note. From Ondra.”

  “You’ve read it?”

  “Ondra can agitate the best of us. I wanted to be sure it was urgent before I needlessly upset you.”

  With the ease that came with practice, he reached his free hand out, keeping a firm hold on Rinli with the other as he did so, and he took the note. He unfolded it with a flip of his hand and began to read.

  Korin,

  Come to the Khared. Your Empir is here.

  Come quickly or you may arrive in time for her funeral.

  O

  “Creators,” Korin uttered before realizing he’d called on the Garlan deity. “You knew?” he asked of Hozia.

  “Only when I read the letter. We both knew she was up to trouble, but who thought she’d move this boldly? Whatever her other motives, she’s testing your loyalty.”

  “It’s worse than you think,” Korin said as he gazed at the daughter he and this very Empir shared. “It’s time you knew the truth. Ondra does now, so why not you? But you must promise to keep it from the Tribe, at least until I return.”

  “Then you’re going? What about your child?”

  “You promised you could find a nurser.” It took all he had to remain where he lay to allow Rinli to finish her meal.

  “I can, but why must you go? It’s the Empir for Destroyer’s sake.”

  “It’s not just the Empir. It’s Lisen.”

  Whatever Hozia had expected Korin to say, this was clearly not it. She opened her mouth to speak, and then shut it quickly again.

  “I’m sorry,” Korin continued. “When we came out here, it was to keep her hidden from her brother while she prepared to make her claim to the throne. Had it been up to me, we would have kept to ourselves down here, working on her fighting skills in the weapons cave and quietly sharing our meals with the others. But Elder Tronin insisted that the only way for her to prove her loyalty to the Tribe was for the two of us to participate in the Farii.”

 

‹ Prev