The Seven Towers

by Patricia C. Wrede

  Vandaris put her head on the door, then paused and looked at Eltiron. “You want to make the speech? They’re sure to want one, and it’ll look better from you.”

  “I—Oh, all right,” Eltiron said.

  “Just tell them everything’s fine and they should go back to bed; we’ll make an announcement in the morning. It won’t be bad.”

  Before Eltiron could reply, Vandaris shoved open the door and stepped out of the tower. The crowd quieted somewhat as she held up her hand and called loudly, “His Royal Majesty, King Eltiron Kenerach!”

  Eltiron stepped forward to stand in front of the crowd. He had forgotten just how many guards and servants and courtiers lived in and around the palace, not to mention the additional numbers who had come to help with the wedding. He swallowed hard and started talking. It was not as difficult as he had expected, once he had begun. When he finished, Vandaris made some pointed remarks to the guards who were nearest the tower, and they began clearing the courtyard.

  “Thank Viran that’s done,” Vandaris said. “Wait here a minute, Eltiron; I want to talk to the Captain at the gates.”

  Eltiron nodded, and Vandaris left. She returned a moment later, looking grim.

  “Salentor Parel’s gone.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Nobody saw him, if that’s what you mean, but I’ll bet my best boots that he got away during the fire show on the Tower of Judgment. All the guards came rushing out here when the lights started, and one of them found the outer guardhouse door unlocked when he finally bothered to go back and check. I sent a message to the guards at the city gates to watch for him, but I don’t think they have much chance of catching him; there are just too many strangers in Leshiya.”

  “But Salentor’s the Barinash ambassador! How are we going to explain this?”

  “Blame it on Lassond. He can’t contradict us, and the sooner he’s completely discredited, the better.”

  “I suppose so,” Eltiron said dubiously, “but I don’t think Crystalorn is going to like this much.”

  Eltiron was right; Crystalorn did not like it. Her reasons, however, were not quite what he had expected—Crystalorn was incensed at being “left out” of the night’s excitement. She refused to speak to him for most of the day, which lent color to Vandaris’s “official explanations” but did very little for Eltiron’s state of mind. To top matters off, Darinhal, the castle physician, chose that morning to announce his “discovery” of Marreth’s poisoning. Eltiron had just enough presence of mind to blame that, too, on Terrel’s sorcery.

  Amberglas added to Eltiron’s uneasiness by announcing that Terrel’s rooms appeared to have some sort of protective spell around them, which was not at all the sort of thing one normally found in Sevairn, at least not in the past several hundred years, though it might, of course, have been quite normal before that. Eltiron listened long enough to learn that the spell had probably been set through Terrel’s medallion, then immediately ordered the entire wing of the castle evacuated. He had no desire to let the Matholych turn any of his guests or staff into shriveled corpses if it should reappear. Only when the evacuation was under way did he turn back to Amberglas.

  She did not appear at all put out by Eltiron’s behavior; she simply informed him that it would take a great deal of time to remove the spell, unless of course he wanted everything inside Terrel’s rooms to crumble into dust, which would almost certainly be dreadfully inconvenient for the castle housekeeper. Eltiron told her that he did not want Terrel’s rooms or anything in them crumbling to dust, and he would appreciate it very much if she would remove the spell.

  He left her staring absently at two candles, three gold buttons, a small bag of powdered herbs, and a brown striped kitten that had somehow found its way into the castle, and he found himself wondering just how Amberglas intended to use such an odd assortment of things to break the spell on Terrel’s rooms. Shaking his head slightly, he went looking for Vandaris.

  He found her in the courtyard with Tarilane, and she pounced on him at once, demanding his reasons for evacuating an entire wing of an extremely full castle. When Eltiron explained, she shook her head and agreed grudgingly that it was probably a good idea, but it would certainly complicate the preparations for Marreth’s funeral the following day.

  “Tomorrow?” Eltiron said. “But—”

  “We can’t wait forever, turtle skull, and it will settle people down a bit. Besides, it’s time you moved into the King’s chambers.”

  “I don’t think I want to, at least not until we find out how Father was being poisoned.”

  Vandaris looked startled. “You’re right. And that reminds me; where’s Crystalorn? Somebody has to search Parel’s rooms, and since he was the Barinash ambassador it’ll be better if she gives her consent. She is the Princess of Barinash, after all.”

  Eltiron did not feel ready for another confrontation with Crystalorn. Despite his slightly garbled protests, Vandaris dragged him off, with Tarilane trailing behind them. Fortunately, the prospect of searching Salentor Parel’s quarters had a wonderful effect on Crystalorn’s disposition, and she immediately apologized to Eltiron for her earlier temper.

  When they reached Salentor’s rooms there was a brief argument concerning whether he, too, had a protective spell on his belongings. Tarilane settled matters by walking inside while Eltiron and Crystalorn were both trying to talk at the same time. When nothing happened to her or to the contents of the rooms, the others joined her.

  Vandaris began systematically working her way through Salentor’s belongings. Eltiron, Crystalorn, and Tarilane stood and watched; Vandaris made it quite clear before she began that she was not anxious for their inexpert assistance.

  “Parel was in even more of a hurry than I thought,” she commented after a time. “He didn’t take a single gold chain or jewel with him, as far as I can tell.”

  “Maybe he wasn’t expecting to get out of here,” Crystalorn suggested.

  Vandaris was working at the lock on one of the desk drawers. “I’d still expect him to take time to—aha!” The drawer opened at last; she sorted quickly through the contents and pulled a small wooden box from the back. “This looks interesting!” She flipped open the lid of the box.

  “Well, what is it?” Crystalorn said impatiently after a moment.

  Vandaris turned and held out the box. It was half full of a pale green dust. “Powdered herrilseed,” Vandaris said in an expressionless voice.

  CHAPTER 18

  For a long moment, Salentor stood staring at Jermain. Then he sagged against his horse in evident relief. “Trevannon! Then Carachel does know what’s been happening.”

  Jermain hardly hesitated. “You doubted it?”

  “I haven’t been able to reach him directly for nearly four days.” Salentor sat down heavily beside the fire. “But I certainly didn’t expect him to send you to Sevairn.”

  “The decision was made at the last minute,” Jermain replied carefully. Pretending to be still in Carachel’s service could be an extremely dangerous game. On the other hand, the opportunity to untangle a little more of Carachel’s web of intrigue was too good to pass by. He noticed that Ranlyn was maintaining an impassive silence and thanked Arlayne for the nomad’s quick wits.

  “I assume Carachel gave you a message for me,” Salentor said in a tone very close to arrogance.

  Jermain’s eyes narrowed. “Certainly not. This matter was of far too much importance for us to wait for a message.”

  “But if you have no message—”

  “I believe King Carachel is following a few days behind us. Presumably he will give you your orders when you see him. You can, of course, wait for him to arrive before you give your news, but I doubt he would be pleased.”

  Salentor wilted. “Of course, of course. Ah, how much do you know?”

  “You are aware that Carachel has placed me in complete command of his armies?”

  “He informed me of it some weeks ago,” Salentor admitted reluct
antly.

  “Then I believe you may gauge the extent of his trust from that. As we left the camp in rather a hurry, however, it will be best if you make your tale as complete as possible. We know the broad outlines, of course, but there are doubtless many important details you can give us.”

  “It’s all the fault of that woman the Princess insisted on bringing with us from Barinash!” Salentor burst out. “She managed this all, somehow!”

  “If you are referring to Amberglas, my information is that she is a sorceress,” Jermain said in bored tones.

  Salentor looked at him, visibly startled. “Terrel did manage to warn you! What does Carachel intend to do about her?”

  “That is for him to tell you, if he sees fit,” Jermain said with an outward show of polite firmness. Inwardly, he was shaken. Carachel was in league with Terrel? How long had that been true? He smiled and said, “But perhaps you have some suggestion in the matter?”

  Salentor reddened. “I am not the one who should deal with sorcerers.”

  “You deal with Carachel.”

  “Yes, and see what it’s brought me! For eighteen years, I’ve helped him, since he first visited Barinash, and he thinks more of Terrel Lassond than—But that is hardly important now.”

  “I hadn’t realized you had served Carachel so long,” Jermain said mildly. He wondered briefly whether Salentor was always so clumsy or whether it was exhaustion and lack of sleep that made him so careless of what he was saying. “Then you’ve worked with him since before he became King of Tar-Alem.”

  “Yes, and he knew how to value a favor then! When he and the Queen were—” Salentor stopped short, as though he had just realized he was being indiscreet. He looked at Jermain uncertainly. “You will forget you heard that?”

  “You need have no fear; I have no interest in old scandals,” Jermain said. It sounded as though Carachel had tried to gain power in Barinash the same way he had eventually done in Tar-Alem—through the country’s queen. Of course, Anna-wan of Barinash had been King Urhelds’s wife, not his daughter, so the parallel was not exact.

  “I admire your discretion.” Salentor made an awkward half bow without rising.

  “Thank you. But I fear I distract you from your tale. Perhaps you would begin with your arrival in Sevairn?”

  “I thought Terrel had already reported all that,” Salentor said suspiciously.

  “Of course, but I would like to hear your version. I have no great reason to trust Terrel Lassond, for all he serves the same ruler as we.”

  Salentor looked at him sharply, and for a moment Jermain thought he had gone too far. Then Salentor began to speak, and in a matter of moments Jermain realized the reason for his reluctance. No matter how he tried to hide it, Salentor’s performance in Leshiya was little short of incompetent. He had begun by trying to undermine Terrel’s position with Carachel, but he had reckoned without Marreth’s uncertain temperament and Terrel’s deviousness. By the time he arrived in Leshiya, Terrel had already taken full credit for arranging the wedding that would bring Sevairn into alliance with Barinash and, through Barinash, with the Wizard-King of Tar-Alem. Salentor’s efforts to regain Carachel’s favor by persuading Marreth to send troops to join Carachel’s army had backfired. Apparently, Marreth did not trust Salentor any more than Jermain did, and the fact that he was receiving similar counsel from his own advisers only made him more suspicious.

  Foiled in his initial attempts, Salentor had begun prowling the back channels of the Sevairn court, looking for information. He had found a good deal of it, and he repeated nearly every piece of gossip in detail. Jermain listened carefully, though only three items were of any real interest to him: the rumors surrounding Eltiron’s role in Jermain’s exiling, the reports of Eltiron’s sojourns in the Tower of Judgment with Amberglas, and the vague hints—hardly more than guesses—that Terrel Lassond was playing his own game in addition to Carachel’s.

  “You are certain of this?” Jermain said. “Carachel is unlikely to accept such accusations without proof.”

  “I didn’t have time to get proof,” Salentor said, turning red. “I only heard of it the day the King died, and that was when everything fell apart.”

  This time Jermain was not quite successful in hiding his reaction. Marreth, dead? “I’m sure that confused matters,” he said after a moment. Salentor looked at him suspiciously, and Jermain forced a bland smile. “But please continue.”

  “It was at the wedding festival, four days ago. Marreth was trying to outshine that sister of his in the sword games, and Terrel spent most of the day clinging to him like a wet cloak. That made me suspicious, but I wasn’t sure what it was about until the feast, when Marreth announced Terrel’s betrothal to Vandaris.”

  “Vandaris consented to that?”

  “Apparently Marreth didn’t ask her; he and Terrel arranged it between themselves.”

  Jermain stared for a long moment, then bust into laughter as a picture of Terrel married to Vandaris rose irresistibly in his mind. “That would be a wedding to remember, certainly!”

  “Maybe, but I doubt it was part of any plan of Carachel’s to put Terrel Lassond in the line of succession to the throne of Sevairn!” Salentor snapped.

  “Marriage to Vandaris would hardly do that; even if Marreth and Eltiron were both dead, she’d never let her husband rule in her place. Anyone who’s met her could guess that.”

  “There are ways to arrange such things,” Salentor said evasively. “Fortunately, it came to nothing because Vandaris is already married—at least she claims she is, and I’m certainly willing to believe her brat of a sword squire is her daughter.”

  “Vandaris, married?” Jermain made no attempt to hide his surprise.

  “I didn’t think Terrel would have mentioned that,” Salentor said with some satisfaction. “Her announcement was what set Marreth off, and when he collapsed so suddenly she took over and ordered everyone out. Terrel tried to stop her and nearly ruined everything, accusing her of poisoning Marreth.”

  “King Marreth was poisoned? Terrel said nothing of that!”

  “Terrel said nothing? But it was Carachel who—” Salentor stopped, and his suspicious look returned. “I thought you said Carachel trusted you with his plans.”

  “What is spoken is but a shadow of truth of the heart, and shadows dance to whatever flame is nearest.” Ranlyn spoke for the first time, and Salentor jumped. Ranlyn leaned forward, and the firelight made his face a mask. “The one you speak of owes a debt of life and truth and honor to him who sits before you, and this is truth. Yet beware lest the truth be lost by your own understanding of it. For men see what they wish, but truth changes not for their desires.”

  Salentor looked at Ranlyn uncertainly. Jermain leaned forward and stared coldly at the former Barinash ambassador. “I think you had better go on, Salentor,” he said in a tone of command. “Unless you wish to accuse me of something?”

  Salentor’s eyes jerked from Ranlyn to Jermain, and he swallowed hard. “No, of course not,” he said hastily. He launched into a confused explanation, though he continued to dart distrustful looks at Jermain from time to time. Jermain gathered that Carachel had given Salentor some sort of drug to give to the King of Sevairn, that Salentor had been able to give Marreth only one of the doses he had been told to administer, and that Terrel had ruined everything with his accusations, which resulted in Amberglas discovering that someone had actually been giving Marreth poison.

  “Not that I believed her; there was no way she could have known, and she said it had been going on for months, which is ridiculous. Besides, he obviously died of some sort of seizure. Then Terrel and I were hauled off to our rooms by the guards and confined without the slightest reason! Of course, I tried to get in touch with Carachel at once, but he didn’t respond to the amulet at all.”

  Jermain frowned. Clearly, Carachel had provided his henchman with some spell so that he could relay information such as Marreth’s death. Slowly, Jermain nodded. Four nights befor
e, he and Ranlyn had made their precipitous departure from Carachel’s camp, taking with them the serpent ring and leaving the wizard in no condition to work magic. No wonder Salentor had gotten no reply!

  “They kept us locked in all the next day,” Salentor continued. “I would probably still be there if one of Terrel’s men hadn’t returned to Leshiya and helped us escape. He was the one who told us that Amberglas was a sorceress. He’s a Border Guard, a captain named Morenar.”

  “Morenar is one of Terrel’s men?” Jermain said in surprise. “I thought his loyalty was to the King!”

  “I’m sure Carachel thinks so, too,” Salentor replied with satisfaction. “But it was quite clear from some of the things they said that Morenar’s been following Terrel’s orders first for some time. He wouldn’t talk much about it, but I think he found out about Amberglas on one of his jobs for Terrel.”

  “I’m sure Carachel will be very interested to hear about that,” Jermain said thoughtfully. So it was Terrel, not Marreth, who had been responsible for that attempt to kill him! Jermain looked at Salentor. “So Morenar helped you escape?”

  “Yes, and we could have gotten away with no one the wise if Terrel hadn’t insisted on going up the Tower of Judgment to contact Carachel. He hadn’t been able to do it from inside the castle, either.”

  “The Tower of Judgment? Why in Arlayne’s name would he do that?”

  “He said it was easier to work the spell from there. He went up with Morenar and some servant of his, and I stayed in the courtyard. Terrel was gone for some time, and then there was some sort of red light from the top of the tower, which of course attracted everyone’s attention. I had to slip away in the confusion before I was noticed; I’m afraid the others didn’t get away. That was two days ago; I’ve been riding south ever since, to make certain Carachel was warned.”