Blood Mercy (Blood Grace Book 1)

by Vela Roth

  “It thrives in the ice and snow in Orthros. I regret that does not make it grow in Tenebra, either.”

  “Foolish peasants,” Cassia spat. “Their own suspicions will be the death of their children.”

  At the harshness of her tone, Lio took a step aside. “They are hardly more than children themselves. They don’t know any better.”

  “They do not wish to learn.” She let out a bark of laughter. “How convenient for the king.”

  Lio had felt her fear, her mistrust, and her anger. But the bitterness welling out of her tonight was more than he had bargained for, a sour taint inside her. They had both seen the man who had sacrificed himself in the bull’s place on the temple steps. She had witnessed—and endured—more than her fair share of the king’s abuses. How could she feel no sympathy for Lucis’s subjects? How could she be so quick to ridicule them?

  “How would you try to change their minds?” Lio asked.

  “They do not listen to bastards.” She said it without a hint of concern. Just as quickly as it had slipped, her mask of indifference was in place again. But she had already shown him what lay beneath.

  “If they did, what would you say?”

  “The king’s daughter has no opinion on the proceedings at the Summit.”

  “Cassia, you care a great deal about what suffering may come.”

  “We would all do well to care, before the fever arrives at our own doors.”

  Someone worried about her own door, he suspected, did not seek out heretics in the middle of the night to help the Kyrian mages. “Did the king’s household lose many during the last epidemic?”

  As they passed the ruin again, Cassia held her skirts, picking her way through the rubble on the path. “He takes himself and anyone he requires to survive to one of his distant, self-sufficient estates. The royal healer is a mage of Akesios, the third scion, and highly qualified to be locked in the palace. When the peasants stop dying outside the walls, the king emerges again.”

  “I dearly hope you would be safe within those walls as well.” On her other side, Lio levitated to avoid the debris and keep up with her.

  “Apparently I qualify as more useful to him still breathing, so yes, he sequesters me on such occasions.”

  “So if an epidemic comes, it will not be at your door. Whose door, then, is the cause of your worry?”

  “I do not pretend the body count beyond the fortress does not affect us all.”

  “Lady Cassia, it sounds a great deal as if you’re concerned for the common good.”

  She snorted. “There is a difference between acknowledging reality and waxing poetic about the common good.”

  “Acknowledging that everyone in your kingdom is interdependent sounds to me like an expression of appreciation for each person’s value.”

  “That some of us in Tenebra are less callous than the king is no great distinction. I wish there still to be a temple where I can garden and mages willing to let me in. That is all.”

  “You are fond of spending time with them.”

  “Gardening for Kyria is an expedient way to reassure the king I am not engaging in any activities of which he would disapprove.”

  “If you had been at the Summit, you could have learned for yourself what gifts were accepted, so you could easily tell your friends at the temple.”

  She gave him a flat look that said his point was moot.

  “Have you been able to follow the proceedings at all, so far?” he pressed.

  “I said I don’t have an opinion, not that I don’t pay attention.”

  “Despite how rumors spread, not a great deal escapes the mage ward, I suspect. Very little news must reach you.”

  “If I waited for news to reach me, I would be dead by now.”

  Lio winced. “Do you know anything about what has transpired, then, besides the king’s refusal of our medicines?”

  “Everyone ought to know the terms of the original Equinox Oath. Hesperines shall have the right to children who have been exposed, abandoned, or orphaned without anyone to take them in. Hesperines shall have the right to the dying whose own kind give them no succor and to the dead whose kin and comrades fail to collect their remains. Hesperines shall be permitted to exercise any power on convicted criminals or miscreants acting in clear violation of the law to the detriment of honest people.”

  “Yes, those are the protections the Oath once afforded us.”

  “As for what the truce forbade you to do… Hesperines shall not take to them children who are still under the care of their elders—regardless of those elders’ treatment of the children, I might add. Hesperines shall not disturb the dying who await mortal aid or the dead whose kin or comrades are coming to claim them. Hesperines shall not set foot in temples, orphanages, or places of burial. Hesperines shall not, under any circumstances, intervene in conflicts between the Mage Orders, the Council of Free Lords, the King of Tenebra or his enemies, or in any way attempt to influence worship or politics in Tenebra.”

  “Activities in which we have never intended to engage, I assure you.”

  “So long as your people hold to these terms, you may traverse all lands under the rule of the King of Tenebra without fear of persecution. Should you in any way violate this Oath, then you forfeit the king’s protection from mages, warriors, and any subjects of Tenebra seeking to exact…‘justice.’ Finally, each king, upon his accession to the throne, is to reconvene the Summit and reaffirm this Oath with the appointed representatives of the Queens of Orthros.”

  “You are well informed about Orthros and Tenebra’s past accord, I see.”

  “Anyone who is not a fool pays attention to how the past affects the present. King Lucis invites you to the first Equinox Summit in hundreds of years, making grand pronouncements about renewing the age-old Oath the Mage King established. Once you are here, he sits and watches the free lords insult and denounce you. The hate Lord Severinus’s mage incited early on set the tone for the entire Summit.”

  “So you did know about that.”

  “The Council is doing everything in their power to refuse you your traditional right to children without families. Lord Nonus’s remarks made it clear the free lords believe you disregard the distinction between abandoned children and those under the care of parents or guardians. He as much as accused you of kidnapping.”

  Lio listened, and a smile crept over his face despite the grim truth of her words.

  “It is telling,” she went on, “you have gained little ground regarding the Mercy, either. The terms the king has presented to you appear simply to reaffirm human burial rites, but in doing so they preclude your ministrations to the fallen. Once again it was the free lords’ protests that shut down the discussion, conveniently making the king appear blameless. He might as well drive you from the kingdom, at this rate, but he will not, of course. He will welcome you with open arms and let the free lords tie your hands.”

  Lio did not interrupt her, eager to hear what further conclusions she would draw.

  “At best,” she predicted, “the current situation will go on. Your people will continue to conceal your activities here and act in the same gray area that has persisted ever since the Oath’s lapse. At worst, Tenebra will use the unsuccessful Summit as an excuse to retaliate and attempt to expel you from the kingdom without appearing to have initiated the conflict. I need not say what we all fear, what your people have surely feared since you came. This may well come to war.”

  Lio grinned down at her. “Why did you need me to tell you about the medicines?”

  “I am seeing you tonight and the Prisma in the morning. It will not be until tomorrow afternoon that Free Lord Varinius’s best knight, who was present with his liege to hear the king’s decision on the embassy’s gifts, will see his saddler to gossip about it. The saddler’s younger brother works in the kennels and alternates with another man to deliver Knight’s food. I am unsure when the saddler’s brother will next arrive, and I would prefer not to take action to ensu
re the other man doesn’t come. A bite from Knight takes a long time to heal. The fellow might feel inclined to give my hound the worst cuts of meat from then on.”

  “What don’t you know, Cassia?”

  “I ask myself that every morning and ensure I have an answer by sundown. If I did any differently, I would not have survived this long.”

  “I suspect someone who knows so much also does a great deal with her knowledge.”

  “My influence extends about as far as my own skin. Aside from that, I garden and exercise Knight. I weave, if I must. That is all.”

  “Never a desire to extend your influence farther than that?”

  “Oh, no. I am too fond of my skin.” She paused by the Font of the Changing Queen, glancing at the sky, then turned to leave the clearing. “One who looks too far ahead fails to watch one’s back.”

  “Cassia.” Lio halted by the fountain, searching for the right words.

  She stood stiffly on the other side of the basin from him, poised to leave.

  He could never tell her what an immediate and personal impact her news had on him. Early knowledge of the frost fever epidemic would be a boon to someone who mattered so much to him. But that was not his secret to reveal. “I want you to know how much I appreciate you telling me this. You have my gratitude.”

  Her face was as still and carved as the fountain itself.

  “Allow me to explain.” Lio rounded the Font, then sat on the edge of the basin to put himself on her eye level. “I am not merely saying thank you. Hesperines mean something more than that when we say you have our gratitude. Those words are an acknowledgment of a bond of gratitude. We say them to show we appreciate the true value of a generous and selfless gift, which warrants a gift in return.”

  Her expression now changed ever so slightly. If he watched long enough, would he see the statue ease back to life and turn into a woman?

  Lio placed a hand on his heart. “Rest assured, my people will do everything in our power to mitigate what is to come. For my part, I will make the most of any opportunity I have to change the king’s decision about the rimelace.”

  “I know.”

  Before he could see what expression was taking shape on her face, she turned and led Knight back toward the palace.

  Lio opened his mouth to stay her, but he stopped himself. She had read the color of the sky correctly. Time was of the essence. He must deliver her forewarning to his people—without implicating his oracle.

  A Place at the Table

  Lio had never thought he would be in a position to protect his prince, but by the Goddess, if Cassia’s warning gave him that power, he would use it for all he was worth.

  Lio would put on a show for the fortress guards later. He had no time to waste right now. He stepped directly to Basir and Kumeta’s door.

  Only the door was closed. Lio sensed no veil to indicate they did not wish to be disturbed. He let the Union communicate his presence on the threshold, and the door swung open to admit him.

  Kumeta stood at a battered map of Tenebra that hung on the otherwise bare walls. She had marked nothing, and Lio could only imagine the complex picture she saw as she studied it. She was so still, not a rustle disturbed her plum-colored veil hours robe. But her power roved the boundaries of the small room.

  Basir sat on the bed with his travel desk open before him and his legs crossed beneath what must be his veil hours robe. He wore bright orange silk. Lio had never even imagined him in such a color.

  Basir gave him a look. “Good moon, Deukalion.”

  “You have learned something?” Kumeta turned to Lio.

  “As I promised, I came to you immediately.” Lio resisted the urge to fold his hands behind his back. “A rumor reached my ears during my wanderings tonight, one that you, Master Envoys, are the most qualified to contradict—or act upon.”

  Despite his appearance of calm, Basir’s attention sharpened. He seemed almost eager.

  It had never occurred to Lio that two Hesperines who were such advocates of caution would be so restless at the pace of diplomacy. But they were the Queens’ Master Envoys. Orthros had eyes everywhere—Basir and Kumeta’s eyes. They spent every night coordinating their intricate association of informants or gleaning information firsthand in the field. Inaction was hardly their element.

  “I have heard hesitant whispers among the humans of an epidemic of frost fever that has begun far from Solorum.” Lio looked at each of them. “In the eastern Tenebrae.”

  “Cup and thorns.” Basir threw down his quill. “What a time to have no contact with the Charge.”

  Kumeta paced away from the map. “When we last left the area, there was no sign of the fever there.”

  “It could have started since we joined the embassy,” Basir said.

  Kumeta caught Basir’s hand as she neared. “How could knowledge of an epidemic reach Solorum before the prince learns of it?”

  “Perhaps he battles it even now.”

  “Surely he would have sent word,” Kumeta said. “Our envoys know to risk contact if the need is so dire. Deukalion, whom did you overhear spreading these rumors?”

  “There is talk amongst the gardeners. Those who have contact with the nearby Temple of Kyria seem to think the mages there are concerned.” Lio could only pray his carefully constructed omissions were not a very deep hole into which he was digging himself.

  “The healers are on the alert already?” Basir looked at his Grace, but did not make Lio privy to the rest of their consultation.

  A moment later, Kumeta nodded. “We are of the same mind. It is possible these mortals speak in ignorance, but we will not stake the well-being of the prince’s flock on it. Those under his care are so fragile. One outbreak of fever might be enough to devastate all they have worked so hard to build.”

  “We must tell him,” Basir said. “It might give him time to prepare before the epidemic reaches them from whatever starving village it started in. If he knows of it already, he can be the one to advise us.”

  “The eastern Tenebrae are vast,” Lio said hopefully, “and illness does not move as quickly in sparsely settled areas. Perhaps there is still time to warn him.”

  Nothing would devastate Rudhira like seeing the people he protected suffer. He had enough grief to bear already.

  “Tell your uncle what you have learned,” Basir instructed, “and that Kumeta and I will return in time for the Summit tomorrow with the mortals none the wiser.”

  “Keep Javed informed,” said Kumeta. “He would do well to keep his medicines ready in case the Tenebrans change their minds.”

  Lio bowed. As he straightened, he cleared his throat. There was so much he had not had the opportunity to say after his initiation, even though Rudhira had made a rare visit home to support them all during their Trial. And it would be such a long time before Lio saw him again. “If you would, please tell Rudhira Lio says hello.”

  Oh, a spectacular and eloquent message indeed. It was probably entirely inappropriate to call the First Prince of Orthros by an affectionate name in front of the Master Envoys.

  The suggestion of a smile flickered across Kumeta’s face. “We will tell him whom he has to thank for this warning, and with what devotion it was delivered.”

  They were gone before Lio had a chance to reply. He stared at Basir’s abandoned travel desk with a stab of unfamiliar emotion. On any given night, the Master Envoys pushed their Hesperine power to the limit for their people’s cause. This was just one of many occasions when Basir used his thelemancy and Kumeta her illusions to deliver life-saving information.

  Lio could have chosen that life. Should he have?

  He checked himself. Diplomacy was his path. The Summit was the opportunity he had always awaited. This was his chance to serve his people and try to influence the course of their future.

  At the mental image of Basir appearing before Rudhira in a bright orange veil hours robe, Lio’s mood lightened. He struggled not to chuckle. This was not a laughing matter.
He had to tell Uncle Argyros the Master Envoys were risking a departure from the Summit—to contact the prince.

  Lio sensed his mentor waiting in the common room, as Uncle Argyros did every night, whether or not Lio took the unspoken invitation to coffee on his way in. This time, Aunt Lyta was there too, her aura closely intertwined with her Grace’s. Lio entered the common room to find her sitting with her chair drawn close to Uncle Argyros’s and her body tucked against his side. He held her in one arm, and where his hand rested on her thigh, her fingers intertwined with his. He sipped his coffee in silence while they spoke without words.

  What must it be like to communicate with each other when you had been Graced that long? How must it feel to share knowledge and ideas through an effortless connection, which only grew stronger with each passing century? It was hard for Lio to fathom a joining of the mind more powerful than what his magic could achieve or a bonding of the soul deeper than the Blood Union that bound all Hesperines together. But Union with your Grace, it was said, was beyond anything you could imagine, until you knew it for yourself.

  A sense that all was well with the world came over Lio, just as it did when he came upon his parents dancing or saw the Queens embrace. But this time it was fleeting. The burdens he had carried into the room with him ate away at the feeling that things were as they should be. He hated to add his cares to all those that already weighed upon his aunt and uncle.

  Aunt Lyta looked up, smiling at him as if nothing were amiss. But her aura, always so vibrant, was veiled tonight. That alone gave away how much worry she sought to hide. “Forgive us, Lio. We were lost in thought.”

  “Not at all. I’m sorry to interrupt.”

  “The boy says he’s an interruption,” his uncle scoffed. “Need I remind you how much trouble your parents went to so we could have the pleasure of your interruptions?”

  Lio took his seat at the table, smiling at a memory. “And the trouble you and Aunt Lyta went to so you could have the pleasure of seeing Mak stuff one of your formal robes and use it as a practice dummy as soon as he started training for the Stand.”