by C S Vass
The entire landscape around them was a blazing circle of glowing red. Birds leapt from the trees as their wings drank the air and a chorus of tittering wildlife could be heard. “What in the name of the gods is that?” Sasha asked in a breathless voice. Fiona couldn’t speak. It was the single most astonishing thing she had ever witnessed. They stared for several minutes, tracing the path of this mysterious brilliant ring of light that shone white hot at its base and extended upwards in a glorious golden-red until it licked the sky.
As it slowly faded when the sun moved more fully into the sky Donyo said, “Well, now you know why they call it Sun Circle.”
“They placed mineral glass from inside those tunnels in a giant circle around the top of the district,” Fiercewind said. “A painstaking effort, but quite beautiful.”
“No effort too painstaking to appease the pompous eyeballs of Haygarden’s most noble lords and ladies.” Donyo said cheerfully as he clasped his hands. “They say two dozen men died during the extraction of those minerals. Patriots and heroes all of them. Now, let’s get you to the Duke so we can get some food in those bellies and some pillows for those heads.”
Fiona decided that she did not like Donyo’s strange manner of speech as she was unsure if he was making fun of her. He led them away from the plane and towards two enormous walls that looked like they could have rivaled the barriers at the entrance to Haygarden. As they passed through Fiona lost her breath again as she saw extravagance that she had never imagined.
If the Leaf District had manors, then Sun Circle had palaces. Each one looked like an entire neighborhood, with great sprawling gardens, ornate sculptures, ponds and pools with living fish, and soundlights that glowed in colors she had never even dreamed of. Donyo saw Fiona and Sasha looking with wonder and said, “A lot to take in when one hasn’t seen it before, I know. Especially so for one who comes from so far below.” He raised his eyebrows at Fiona.
She wasn’t sure if that was a jab at her, but as if in answer Donyo said, “Forgive me if that was ill-spoken, Fiona. I simply meant that you have seen the best of life as well as the worst of it as I know you were born outside of the city walls. Personally, I never fail to notice the advantage of having the low perspective. In architecture it is the low stones that are the foundation for the rest, and as a man short in stature myself it allows for a certain, happier view, shall we say?” He gave her an ugly smile, and she had nothing to say to it.
At long last they approached the castle of Duke Redfire. Fiona thought it a little redundant that they built a castle in such a hard to breach location, but by now she was used to the strange extravagances of the wealthy.
By all rights the castle was rather plain when compared to the other elaborate buildings of Sun Circle. It stood square and squat, shorter even than some of the palaces they had already seen. As they moved past the portcullis and into the yard, there were simple flowers growing from the soft earth. Up above she could see armed men walking the ramparts. As they drew closer, she realized the castle was actually more like an entry point. It tunneled far deeper into the depths of the summit of the mountain.
They approached the gate and Fiona was near the point of exhaustion. Two tall guards with long spears greeted them. “Halt!”
“We can do without the formalities gentlemen,” Donyo said. “The Duke has requested our presence.”
“We are well aware of what the Duke has requested,” a guard said. “You and the two guests may pass. You ma’am,” he gestured to Fiercewind, “may not.”
Fiercewind’s eyes narrowed but other than that she betrayed no emotion. “What’s the meaning of this?” she asked. “I am the escort for these two young women, and what’s more I have business at court.”
“We have been specifically instructed to not let you pass,” they responded. “Turn away. You have done your part and we thank you.”
“Come now, is this stupidity really necessary?” Donyo asked. “We are all friends here.”
“No friendship supersedes commands from my liege.”
Donyo groaned. “Well, it appears this is where we part ways. I thank you for seeing them safely here.”
Helena Fiercewind did not move a muscle. She eyed the two guards angrily and to Fiona’s surprise swept back her cloak to reveal a thick leather armor and the golden trumpet at her side. “You’re both fools, she spat, and I could break you in a heartbeat.”
Sasha gave an astonished cry.
“Please, that won’t be necessary.” The voice that spoke was strong and confident and was shortly followed by an older, princely looking man with fiery green eyes and ebony skin. He wore his hair in thick braids that fell neatly past his broad shoulders. There was an impressive looking longsword at his side.
“Lord Hightower,” Fiercewind said, with a hint of surprise.
“I’m sorry for this inconvenience, my lady,” he responded. “Things are not as easy as I would like them to be in Sun Circle. It would be best for simplicity’s sake if you obeyed the guards. I would consider it a personal favor if you did and I assure you that your charges will be in safe hands.”
So this is the Lord Defender of Haygarden, Fiona thought as she gazed on the face of Geoff Hightower. He was spearlike in appearance, with powerful eyes that could command respect. She had been learning about him in the history books ever since she came to Clearwater. Many believed that without him the Movement for Independence would have been dead before it began.
Fiercewind bit her lip. “Oh, very well,” she said at last. “I will trust you, Lord Hightower.”
He bowed to her, then turned to Sasha and Fiona.
“It is an honor to have you in Sun Circle,” he said. His voice was like strong waves washing over a boulder. “Please, the Duke is waiting.”
Without another word he turned, and they followed him inside the castle.
* * *
As they moved through the long tunnel-like entrance of the castle Fiona was briefly reminded of the sewers. The path soon gave way to a splendid round chamber. The ceiling was like an enormous vault that extended upwards, and they could see walkways on the floors above them guarded by elaborately carved railings. Low-burning fires blazed in a ring-shaped pit around the circular chamber in a way that mimicked the explosion of light they had witnessed when they first entered Sun Circle.
As they approached the Duke, it was hard for Fiona not to feel a sense of disappointment. For all the talk of his heroics the man was simply old and fat now. He sat in a throne that he was almost too big for, with sunken brown eyes and drooping cheeks. His hair was grey and nestlike, with a regal ring of silver to crown his head.
“My liege,” Hightower said as he approached. “I bring you Fiona Sacrosin and Sasha Rains.”
The Duke nodded his approval. “You may leave us Geoff,” he said. His voice was deep and throaty. Alone in this strange place with Donyo and the Duke with only Sasha as an ally Fiona felt incredibly vulnerable. “I welcome you to Sun Circle,” he said. “I expect you will conduct yourselves in a manner consistent with the values of this court.”
Fiona had no idea what to say to that, but luckily Sasha responded for her.
“Thank you Duke Redfire,” she said as she bowed. “We are honored to find welcome in your hall, and we are in your service.” The Duke made a gruff noise that seemed to indicate approval.
“Very good, at least one of you knows your manners,” he said. “In any case, Sasha, you will stay in the home of Lawrence Downcastle. I trust you will not be a nuisance to him. The man is undergoing a great deal right now.” He made no mention of Reggie’s kidnapping, Fiona noted.
“You,” he went on, with a glance at Fiona, “will stay right here in the castle. Once your loved ones are returned, you will be able to go about your business.”
“I will do anything I can to assist in finding Reggie and my brother,” she said.
The Duke looked at her with contempt. Fiona knew that look from years of it at Clearwater. “If you wish to str
ut about the castle armed and armored like some abominable experiment of the gods, far be it from me to care,” he said bluntly. “You will find others take more offense to your appearance than I do. That is your business. But you will not interfere with the investigations that I have left to far more experienced hands. Is that understood?”
Fiona was so shocked that it took her a moment to collect herself. She wanted to tell him…something, anything. If a teacher at Clearwater had spoken to her in such a way, she would have given them an earful even if it meant scrubbing the school’s chamber pots for a month. As she realized she could not find her voice, her cheeks flushed red with shame and she felt an absurd sense of guilt, as if she had somehow betrayed herself.
“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and take your silence for humility,” the Duke said. “An admirable quality in a woman, however strangely dressed.”
“My liege,” Donyo said, lightly. “The girls are quite tired. They have journeyed all night through the sewers. Perhaps it would be best to allow them some rest and they can call on you once they are refreshed.”
“Be silent, you drunken little lecher,” the Duke spat. “They’ll sleep when I’m done with them. Don’t think I don’t smell trouble with you as well. Keep your hairy little paws to yourself, or you’ll answer to the hangman.”
Fiona glanced at Sasha but her friends face was as still as stone. To her surprise Donyo laughed.
“Indeed,” he said, as if he could not care less about being addressed as such by the most powerful man in Haygarden. “Though that would make for an interesting spectacle. I hear once the hangman gets you it’s rather difficult to respond to his questions.” He made a choking gesture that Fiona might have expected from a court jester, but not someone who held as serious a title as Donyo Brownwater, Master Architect of Haygarden.
The Duke paid him no mind. Perhaps this was simply how they were at court. He turned to Fiona again. She couldn’t help but think that he was so ugly, astonishingly ugly. Closer to drawings of trolls from her childhood books than anything else she could think of, with his great waxy slabs of flesh that drooped from his face.
“I will warn you once and no more,” he said to her. “I have summoned you and Sasha here for reasons that could not be more different. Sasha is the honorable bride-to-be of a powerful man from a powerful family, and she is here for her own protection given the circumstances. You,” he made the last word a threat, “are here because your brother disappeared, and I don’t like the smell of it at all. Perhaps there is something you’d like to tell me, Fiona Sacrosin, while I have you here in my chamber?”
The look he shot her sent goosebumps up and down her spine.
“What are you suggesting?” Fiona asked slowly.
“I’ll not mince my words if you find them so difficult,” he spat. “Your brother was under investigation for some rather suspicious activities leading up to his disappearance. He was just as much a suspect in these ill going-on’s as anyone else. I know of your strange aspirations, to join the elite, the Brightbows. I don’t know if you would have made it in as a result of Rodrick’s familial sympathies or if he would have had a better head on his shoulders, but don’t have any strange delusions that you are here to replace him. You are here because I was suspicious of Rodrick, and I am suspicious of you as well.”
Fiona stammered, but was so angry that again she found herself unable to speak.
“I will make it clear for you, girl, if you have such difficulty understanding. Sasha Rains is here as an honored guest. You are here as a prisoner. Do I make myself understood?”
“You…you think Rodrick had something to do with all of this?” she said. “Are you as drunk as Donyo?”
Fiona felt as though all of the air had suddenly escaped the room. When the Duke spoke at last, his voice was low and dangerous. “I will forgive you that, as I know that it is difficult to take a bastard flower from filthy soil and replant it among more noble plants. But if you presume to speak to me in such a way again, I will nail your tongue to the wall and throw you off this mountain.”
Fiona met his gaze and did not look away. She saw nothing but a deep, bitter hatred. “Yes, my liege,” she said with a smile, though her eyes were sharp as knives.
Chapter Seven
After her disastrous meeting with Duke Redfire Fiona was taken to her chamber by Donyo while Sasha was escorted to the Downcastle’s manor by Sun Circle guards. Donyo couldn’t seem to decide whether it was more fun to chide her for her stupid remarks or just openly laugh at them. The whole time he took her through the winding passages of the castle he chattered incessantly, but Fiona did not hear a word. She was tired…so very tired. As soon as they arrived at the chamber they had prepared for her, she collapsed on her soft feather mattress and fell into a deep and satisfying sleep.
Late that afternoon she awoke to a pounding on her door. Gods, just a little more time, she thought, but she knew she could not risk displeasing the Duke again. That had been foolish of her, very foolish. But of all the things she might have expected from the Duke, the accusation against Rodrick had caught her completely off-guard. Rodrick has done more for this city than anyone! I watched as they took him. The Duke is just a crazy old man who’s lost his mind, that’s all.
Another round of pounding tore her from her thoughts. She rubbed the sleep-dust from her eyes and answered the door.
“Bread and bacon?” Donyo Brownwater was there standing with a platter of food in one hand and a jug of water in the other.
“Do they normally send you around like a castle servant?” she asked him.
“Only when we have a very bold guest who could use a firm talking to,” he said with a wide smile as he let himself in and set down the food and drink. “So tell me, is there a wager on how quickly you can get your head removed and rolled down the mountain? The Laquathi have some such sport, I’m told, but I’ve never actually observed it in practice.”
“The Duke was way out of line,” she said, her arms folded.
Donyo laughed at that. “He’s the bloody Duke,” he said. “He is the line. I strongly recommend you do not try that again. Here, eat some bacon.” He was already stuffing his face with it. She looked at the strange man and remembered Headmaster Fiercewind’s warning about him. Was there something sinister behind the childish demeanor that she couldn’t see, or was he just simple?
“Why are you here?” Fiona asked.
He gave her a hurt look. “Why, to bring you food. And the pleasure of my company, of course.” He took the jug of water—not water as she had thought—and poured a cup of something thick and black into a ceramic cup.
“Is that ale?” she asked.
“Goes excellently with the marble rye, if I do say so.”
“Listen, I don’t know what you think is going on here—”
“Fiona! You have a suspicious mind. That’s excellent for Sun Circle. Learn not to speak every word that passes through it though. That’s not how you win.”
“Win what?”
“Your brother. Your freedom. Anything at all, really.”
That gave her pause. “That is what you want, isn’t it?” he went on. “To find your brother? You said as much just yesterday.”
“Perhaps,” she said, trying to exercise some caution and feeling foolish as she did so. “What’s it to you?”
Donyo giggled like a school boy. “There you go, much better. I’ll even take a leaf out of your tree and tell you what I really think. I don’t know what it is to me yet. I don’t know if I like you.”
If that was supposed to be a threat it sounded more like something a ten-year-old might say. “But I’d like to find out,” he went on. “Tell me about yourself. And for the sake of the gods, have something to eat. You must be famished.”
She took a piece of bread and dipped it into a small plate of oil that was strongly salted. The first bite made her realize how hungry she was, and she quickly began to eat. After a moment she said, “I don’t know wha
t there is to tell. I’m the only sister of Rodrick Sacrosin, Commander of the Brightbows, and I hope to join him one day. But you already know that. Why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” he said, smacking his fat lips together. “My name is Donyo Brownwater. My official title is Master Architect of Haygarden. I was born just before the Movement for Independence, and quickly established myself as a genius at Clearwater, and…no, don’t give me that look. I am a genius, Fiona. Why else do you think the Duke puts up with his, how did he say it…drunken little lecher?”
“What’s makes you a genius?” she asked.
“The gods? Chance? The fact that I know when not to stick my nose into some place it’s likely to get bitten off? How should I know? I build all manner of things for the Duke that I’m not allowed to tell you about and he lets me flop about his court. An agreeable arrangement from my perspective.”
“Why doesn’t Helena Fiercewind like you?” Fiona asked. She immediately wondered if that was a mistake.
He gave her a feigned look of pain. “I’m hurt. Helena Fiercewind is near and dear to my heart, and I’m sure I’m near and dear to, well, whatever vacuum she has in place of hers.”
Fiona laughed despite herself. She was beginning to like Donyo, demented little fellow that he was.
“Never mind Fiercewind,” he said between bites of bread. “I wanted to tell you about the court. It seems you don’t know an awful lot about the people here, am I right?”
“Rodrick usually kept his silence about court when he spoke to me,” she admitted.
“Rodrick usually kept his silence about court when he was about court,” Donyo replied. “A wise man, your brother. Me, not so much. Now, the Duke is good and lovely and you couldn’t want for a better person anywhere in Tellos, as you saw for yourself. You’ve also already met Geoff Hightower, a good enough fellow, though a little stuffy for my taste. Not to mention prickly as a hedgehog about his honor, so don’t go poking.