Ceres arranged the papers in front of her before clapping her hands together and giving a little smile. “But let’s start again. Bearer Kastor, you were talking to us about Gorrhen yn Garr. You and him were involved in a little altercation of sorts over the past couple of decades, am I right?”
“A little altercation?” Bannal looked insulted. “Have you not read my accounts of our encounters over the years? How he destroyed my home and killed my people?” His voice hit a high note.
“Yes, your bloody accounts. We did read those, didn’t we, council?” She lifted a brow. One of the mages coughed.
Chaco said, “I may have glanced through it.”
Imreia lifted her hands. “This is ridiculous. Enji may have formally broken off from Eheldeth for centuries, but we still have our responsibilities. Do you people not remember why those mages were sent there in the first place?”
Chaco gave a snort. “You would call them mages, Keeper Imreia? The rog-Bannals have never been good at following Eheldeth protocols. The rabble they pick up…” He glanced at Sapphire.
“Enji has been destroyed. I am not in the mood to argue over what it was or wasn’t,” Bannal said. “Keeper Imreia has it right. My forefather Raggnar established Enji to ensure that Naijwa of Hilal’s beast never saw the light of the day.”
“A task Eheldeth was easily capable of. Your ancestor argued with the council over how to deal with that little problem and decided to take matters into his own hands. How have you been doing with that, by the way?” Chaco folded his arms and leaned back against his chair.
“We were badly outnumbered.” Bannal’s face had gone sheet-white, but he didn’t seem deterred. “Keeper Ceres—you promised to hold this council if I was able to bring this man to you. He is here now. Him and his master, Gorrhen yn Garr, intend to bring this beast to attack Dageis. What are you going to do about it?”
Ceres glanced at Enosh. “If you would shed any light on this matter?”
“Certainly, my lady.” He glanced at the council. He had seen truth-runes along the walls, which were even more difficult to bypass than mages skilled in truth-checking. In a room like this, one lie would be enough to seal his doom.
He licked his lips. “He has it right.”
A murmur rose among the crowd. Enosh saw Sapphire’s eyes widen, though she remained quietly rooted to her seat.
Ceres called for order while Bannal laughed. “You would actually say so?” he asked. “You!”
He looked at him squarely. “Yn Garr tried to have me killed. I am no longer under his employ. Sapphire can attest to that.”
They turned to Sapphire. She looked like she wanted to throw something at him, but was suddenly too self-conscious to admit it. “It did seem like he and Yn Garr are not in good terms right now,” she murmured, tapping a finger on the table. “I’m not sure why.”
“I find that hard to believe,” Bannal said.
“You would,” she whispered.
Ceres gave the sort of smile that announced she was nearing the end of her patience. “It’s quite obvious that some of these issues are of a personal nature.”
“Personal?” Bannal gasped. “This man held me prisoner after he destroyed Enji. The conditions he subjected me to...”
“For my pleasure, no doubt,” Enosh said. His hands glowed green, as did certain runes on the table. He smiled.
Ceres laughed.
“I think I need to speak with you privately, Keeper Ceres,” Bannal said.
“He should,” Chaco said. “Clearly, this has been a waste of time.”
“How about this Yn Garr person?” Imreia asked. “The truth-runes did not glow when they spoke of his plans to attack Dageis. Surely we must talk about how to deal with this matter?”
“We will,” Ceres said. “But at this moment, I don’t think there’s much to worry about. The last time Yn Garr was seen in possession of this creature was years ago. It’s possible he no longer owns it. Should he plan to mobilize against the Empire, why, he has a whole contingency of mages to worry about. Think you that Eheldeth, the Dageian Plateau, would fall as easily as Enji?”
Bannal opened his mouth to protest, and she gave him a wilting look.
“We will talk, I said,” she murmured. “But there are other issues the council must discuss. You may leave.”
A thrall went up to Bannal, taking his elbow. He yanked it back and got out of his chair.
“As for you, Enosh Tar’elian …” Ceres gestured at the thrall, who went up to him and removed his bracelet. Another was clasped in its place. “This gives you permission to freely walk about the outer sanctum, or outside the walls if you so please. But perhaps you might like to stay and explore Eheldeth a while.”
He rubbed his wrist—the bracelet was warm to the touch—before smiling at her again. He didn’t say anything, though. The thrall led him out.
“Adherent Sapphire…” he heard Ceres say, before the doors closed behind him.
Interlude
Sapphire allows herself a moment to close her eyes and gather her thoughts. It is not often that she feels safe enough to do this; even in Enji, the constant trickle of the agan around her has always put her on edge. Moon used to claim it is why she is often so irritable, which is not true at all; she is irritable regardless. But the trickling doesn’t help.
Ceres arrives with two glasses of what appeared to be blood orange and green berry juice with crushed ice. Sapphire takes one from her, tastes it, and coughs. “Good grief, cousin...did you drop half a bottle of spirits into this? It’s not even evening yet.”
“I’m sorry, Saphy,” Ceres says, giving an awkward smile. “Dealing with the council, and then your brother…”
Sapphire places her drink on the window-sill. “Please do not call him that.” Her fingers twitch. She drops them to her side and thinks of writing the first part of the runes of elemental awakening; an arbitrary exercise, but tracing the familiar lines in her mind calms her enough to utter her next words. “He killed Moon, you know.”
She watches Ceres take a delicate sip. She, too, coughs.
“Perhaps I did put too much. I’m sorry, Sapphire.” She bends over to pat Sapphire’s hand.
Sapphire doesn’t smile back. She curls her fingers over her knees and looks out the window.
“Not for the drink. For Moon. He told me when he first came, three years ago. An accident, he said. The runes agreed.”
“You know how subjective those runes are. Every mage from the plateau to the Baidhan Sea learned, since youth, how to manipulate them with half-truths.”
“Oh, Sapphire, don’t get angry. I know that.” She pulls away and stands up.
“But you know, also, that there’s nothing I can do. If it had happened inside Dageian borders we could report it to the guard. Here in Eheldeth, and he would have been tried by now.” She takes another drink. “I did not know where you were at the time so I could not send word, but I put on mourning clothes and we placed her vial at the pyres.”
“Birch told me. I need to do that for Vilum, too.” And then, as an afterthought, she murmurs, “Thank you.”
“Why did he kill Hegas? I knew that before Keeper Ordan sent him to Enji, he was all set up to be trained as a mage-thrall when he was a boy. But what did he have against the man?”
“Hegas was head of that household, where he was being trained,” Sapphire says. “The man…had his vices.”
Ceres looks away. “I did not expect that.”
They fall silent for a while, sipping their drinks. Ceres sets it aside and claps her hands together. “Also...I suppose you will find out eventually, but Kastor’s requested for a circle of mages.”
“You’re not actually thinking of granting it to him, are you?”
“He filed for it three years ago. After your Enosh’s confirmation of Gorrhen yn Garr’s plans to the council, the least we can do is approve it. Personally, I think Kastor is over-blowing the situation—a merchant threatening the Empire with his necromanti
c pet, honestly! But it makes sense to appoint people who can resume the Enji mages’ task.”
Sapphire regards Ceres carefully as she speaks. “It does not concern you that Yn Garr was able to obtain the creature from Gorent?”
“One creature,” Ceres says. “Easily destroyed.”
“So you say.”
Ceres laughs and abandons her drink so she can drape her arms around Sapphire’s shoulders. “The problem with Enji was that it relied too much on outdated techniques laid out by an ancient man half-mad with grief.”
She doesn’t move. “We knew what we were doing.”
“You, maybe. You were trained in Eheldeth.”
“Not for very long.”
“But long enough. How many mages could claim to have finished the rites before they were twelve?” She pressed her cheek against Sapphire’s. “I am not denying that they were skilled. I know Enji was your home. But Saphy, you are in Eheldeth. This is your home too, and here, you need not fear. This Yn Garr will have to struggle to put a nick to these walls. Think of what he must do to even think of burning them to the ground.”
“He can find the others,” she says.
Ceres blinks. “What do you mean?”
Sapphire sighs. “Raggnar broke the beast into several pieces…”
“I know that. But what difference does it make he finds them? So we kill more things, instead of one. Two, three, four flies to swat.”
Sapphire rubs her head with her fingers. “It’s almost like you didn’t learn anything from your studies. This accursed creature wants to fuse itself back together and it gains strength every time it does this. If Yn Garr finds its heart, or its fangs...you’ll have a walking disaster in your hands. Burn these walls? He can tear a bloody hole in the continent!”
“Calm down,” Ceres says. “I understand your concerns. I’ll take care of it. Drink your juice.”
“This isn’t juice.”
“Drink the damn alcohol, Sapphire.”
She drinks, but she glares at Ceres the whole time doing so. “I want to be a part of that circle,” she says.
“Are you sure? You will be taking orders from Kastor again. I would put you as its head if I could, but so long as Kastor remains part of Eheldeth, and his position set…”
“Send me as your agent. I can work with him, but I will never take orders from him again.”
“If that is your wish, then it is done,” she says.
They are quiet for a length of time. Sapphire drinks again, and finds herself able to breathe a little easier. She cranes her head to the side. Ceres is running her fingers through Sapphire’s hair, beginning to braid it.
“He isn’t my Enosh, by the way,” Sapphire says.
“You never miss a thing, do you?”
“I just wanted to make it clear.”
“All right.” Ceres pauses, a lock of Sapphire’s hair in her hand. “So you aren’t interested?”
Sapphire hesitates for a second, which is long enough.
Ceres laughs. “He is a well-formed man, isn’t he? Such expressive eyes, and that voice...”
“That is irrelevant,” Sapphire says. “And I will not give him the satisfaction of us talking about him like a couple of lovesick school-age girls. Why have you decided to trust him so much? I brought the man here to be interrogated, and you set him free before he’s said anything useful.”
“You catch more flies with honey than vinegar, my dear. And speaking of honey…” Ceres twirls her finger through Sapphire’s hair. “Since you don’t like him that way, you will not mind if I, say, decide to have a little fun?”
Sapphire stares at her. Ceres grins.
“Do what you want,” Sapphire says. “But I should probably inform you that he’s not exactly what you would call a clean man.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Ceres says, giggling. “I like them dirty.”
Sapphire narrows her eyes. “I think you’re drunk. I’m going to go.”
“Saphy,” Ceres calls, following her to the door. “I wanted to tell you when you got here, but I didn’t get the chance. Moon’s room...it’s still...I’ve left it the way she kept it.”
“It’s been years. Couldn’t a young novice be making better use of it by now?”
“I didn’t want to throw anything away until you looked through it.”
Sapphire, not really knowing how to respond to that, pushes her spectacles up and drops her head. “This is my sorrow, not yours. But thank you once again.”
She closes the door, walks down the hall, and holds her breath. A few steps down and she sees Enosh whistling up the same hall, a bottle of wine in his hands. The pain becomes easier to bear.
“She is Firekeeper for another seven years,” she says.
Enosh opens his mouth, and she waggles a finger at him. “If my name gets dragged through the mud because of this, by Dorsin’s shiny beard, I will throw you off the cliff myself. Do you understand? I will burn you to a crisp and roll your body to the sea.”
She feels a measure of satisfaction as he turns pale for a moment and then an even larger one when he nods. She smiles, ceasing to care what he might think about that, and walks away.
Tribune Alerio opens the missive, reads it a second time, and closes it with a sigh. “Well,” he says. “It’s better than nothing. I do not normally like taking orders from these mages, but it is as good a compromise as any.”
“He deserves more. After all he has done for the Empire…”
“He is not to be serviced as a thrall. He also remains under my command, limited as his position now may be. Don’t think it’s easy for me to do this.”
The man rubs his eyes before turning to her. “As to your decision, soldier: are you sure? I have placed my recommendation for you to replace him. I’m certain it will be approved, and you could be training with your cohort a fortnight from now. I can send another officer in your place.”
“My place is with him.”
Alerio smiles. “I will not ask why, but do remember that you are a soldier of the Empire first, before anything else.”
“I respect you, Tribune,” Mahe says. “But do not ask me to leave him.”
“I would not dream of it,” Alerio says.
Later, as she waits for the thrall to replace Izo’s bracelets, she finds herself unable to look away from him.
“I don’t understand,” he is saying, his hair sticking up every which way. There is also a thin layer of stubble under his cheeks and jaw, giving him the shadow of a beard. “So this Bannal fellow intervened on my behalf? He made the proposal himself?”
“He is creating a circle to replace the Enji mages,” she says. “He thinks you will be a useful addition. A trained soldier, with skills in the agan.”
“Skills I am not allowed to use,” he says, holding up his new bracelet.
She shrugs. “Nothing you haven’t lived with before.”
The thrall finally nods. Izo grins at him and walks out of the cell. He stretches.
“I suppose it will be interesting,” he says. “Take the pressure off me for once. I am a little sick of making decisions all the time. What about you? You must be heading back soon? They’ll want to hear your report on your Gasparian exchange thing. If you’re not promoted by now…”
“I’ve sent the report,” she says. “I’m staying with you.”
“What?”
“I’ve sent the report,” she says, a little louder. “I’m staying—”
“I heard you the first time!” He rubs his ears. “You understand that I’m getting a light exile? I’ll be this circle’s personal bodyguard from here on. No way up from where I am, Mahe—my career in the Dageian military is over.”
She lets him walk ahead a little.
“You should know by now that I don’t care about that,” she says to his back. She doesn’t like him looking at her when she says these things.
“I know,” he murmurs. “I don’t like to believe it, but I know.”
He walks bac
k to her. Their fingers touch for a brief moment. A man walks by and they pull away.
“I think we have to report to Bannal now,” she says. “He’s expecting us.”
“Another moment.” He stands there, waiting.
When they are alone again, he presses his lips over hers. “I’ve missed you,” he whispers.
She allows her fingers to drift over his cheek. “We have to go.” And then, “You have to shave. And take a bath.”
“You outrank me now, so yes. Yes, sir.”
“I do outrank you now. So you have to take a bath every day. And you have to shine my boots.”
“That is so unfair. I’ve never asked you to shine my boots. An hour into your new position and you’re already a tyrant? The Tribune will be receiving a report very soon.”
“It’ll take several days for it to go through. Until then…”
“A tyrant,” he repeats. “I should’ve seen it before.” He laughs. His face crinkles every time he laughs. Mahe traces every line, new and old, and wonders how long this one will last, and if they will ever be free.
ACT THREE
Cerknar IV: “What does the man want?”
Seneschal: “He insists the news he brings is for your ears alone.
Cerknar IV: (His Majesty expresses himself in some very colourful language) “...balls, can he not see I do not have the time for him? How the…” (cont’d.) “...was he able to get access to the kennels?”
Seneschal: “We do not know, sire. He says he does not wish to harm the dog and merely found her out on the streets.”
Cerknar IV: “The man is clearly lying.”
Seneschal: “I believe so too, sir. But he says he will give the dog back unharmed so long as you hear his preposition.”
Cerknar IV: (Long sigh) “Him and every bastard peasant in the empire. Very well. Let him in. What did he call himself?”
Seneschal: (Glances at the paper in his hand, looks up) “Jaeth, sire. Jaeth of Gorent.”
- Excerpt from the Dageian Royal Annals, Year Drg. 487
Chapter One
An Elegy of Heroes Page 70
