by Emerson, Ru
Three-part. That means it’s not yet truly bonded. He had that knowledge from somewhere, possibly Shesseran, who’d been so vehemently against Triads and Light. It meant nothing to him; except the Triad still needed a wealthy patron to keep it in the enclosed space it needed, to provide the things called for in its spells or in its rituals that—supposedly—permitted it to gain strength. For now, it would obey him, at least in the things that mattered most.
Still—
If Afronsan somehow became certain there was a Triad here. If he came himself, as he seemed to threaten, and discovered a Triad in Vuhlem’s palace…
Well, a man that heedless of his own safety could die of Triad, Vuhlem told himself. He laughed grimly. “And serve him right.”
DUCHESS ROBYN TO THUKARA: IS CHRIS HONESTLY ALL RIGHT? WIRE FROM HIM SOUNDED A LITTLE PHONY, MUCH TOO CHEERFUL, AND I KNOW HE’D TELL YOU WHEN HE’D LIE TO ME, ROBYN
CHRIS TO JEN: ASK AUDREN HENRY ABOUT BAUXITE MINES IN FRENCH JAMAICA. MAY BE FINAL ZERO LINK, INCANS TO DUPRET TO MER KHANI. NOW HAVE TWO ENGLISH SAILORS WHO HELPED TRANSFER CRATES OF DUPRET’S BRANDY TO LASANACHI GALLEY, YEAR AGO. GALLEY LEFT GALLIC LAKE BOUND NORTH. WILL GET PROPER SWORN DOCUMENTS, SEND VIA SHIP IF NEW EMPEROR REOPENS PORTS SOON, OTHERWISE BY GALLIC TRAIN. GOING BROKE SENDING WIRES, CHRIS
Jennifer sat cross-legged on her bed, bare feet tucked under the thick coverlet, all her pillows and Dahven’s at her back and a red silk quilted robe warmly and discreetly covering her from throat to wrists to ankles. Sil and the Red Hawk grandmother had both the room’s comfortable chairs; Ryselle stood behind Sil’s chair. She looked, Jennifer thought, as if she felt very much out of place. Village woman, after all. And used to Vuhlem as what nobles are like. Her eyes stung and her throat was much too tight. She blotted her face with her fingertips. “I apologize for receiving you so informally. The midwife won’t let me out of bed at all this morning.”
Sil nodded. “I’m sorry you aren’t well—”
“Just—precaution on her part. I haven’t slept well the past few days, and because of the Zero the Thukar’s brothers gave me not long after I started this baby, she’s cautious.” She shook her head. “That’s not so important, just now. I feel fine, honestly; I’m tired, but not too tired to talk with you.” She looked at the grandmother. “I know you have a long way to go to reach Podhru, and you’re eager to get going. So I won’t keep you long. But there’s a document case I’d like you to carry to the new Emperor, I asked them to bring it here when the last letter is readied. If you wouldn’t mind… I’d feel better having it in your hands, rather than a rider’s. There are some sensitive documents, and once or twice something has happened to a sole rider, between us and Podhru.”
Red Hawk’s grandmother nodded at once. “It’s no difficulty. We’re protected—well, so far south, we are,” she added bleakly. “By my gifts and sheer numbers.” Red Hawk’s grandmother laid a hand on Sil’s arm. “They weren’t any use the other night, of course. Such a swift, deadly attack—” Her voice trailed off; she looked and sounded old, all at once. Sil took her near hand; she looked worried. “It’s all right, Sil. I frankly saw very little: The beam began to creak in a nasty fashion and the sin-Duchess shouted. Two of the men simply scooped me up like a bag of flour and ran. Before I could so much as protest, they had me into my cart and the cart itself well away from the building.” She sighed heavily.
“You lead Red Hawk,” Sil said. It sounded like an ongoing argument. “Of course they got you out quickly-—you and Silver Star’s grandmother both.” She shrugged, spread her hands wide. “You couldn’t have done anything in there but counted as another of the dead.”
“I know.”
“There isn’t much I can tell you myself,” Sil went on. “What everyone saw, of course: The main beam was splintering, stones and wood shifting, and utter panic. We were both wet and half-frozen, and then, to be back in the storm, outside—watching the top of the building just—just drop. Everything.” She shivered. “Stones and slates fell into the courtyard and then into the street; we made a line, passing the babes and what few goods anyone had brought out, as far from the building as we could. Some of the city people were helping. And then no one else came out, and the wind blew so hard I couldn’t catch my breath. The—someone grabbed me and Ryselle, helped us around to the front side of the building, got us into one of the whole carts. I didn’t think—I’d ever be warm again.” She was quiet for a long moment. “All—those people. They—some of the men had to go back into the stables, kill three of the horses; they were hurt bad, there wasn’t any way to get them out. And—and we kept waiting and waiting. It was—almost dark again, the next day, before they came out with word, they’d found her—and—and the boy.” Ryselle closed her eyes, bit her lip. “I never did sense anything odd, but then I don’t see magic.”
“You will,” Red Hawk assured her. “Once you’ve borne a child, it will come to you.” Sil cast her eyes up slightly. “She didn’t suffer much, remember that. The boy—my son said he surely never knew what struck him.”
“It’s no help,” Sil replied sharply. She swallowed. “I’m sorry, Grandmother.”
“It’s all right. I am angry, too. Such.—waste.”
Silence. Jennifer looked at Ryselle. The village woman was twisting her hands together. “He used me, honored one,” she said; her voice was husky.
“It’s Jen, please,” Jennifer said. “Or Thukara, if you’d rather. Who used you?”
“Vuhlem, of course. His—Triad used me, to enter the building, to attack her, all of them but her because he hated her so. I—was there, when his soldiers came to our village and took her prisoner; they would have killed her. She—when I asked her about it later, about the Duke, she said”—Ryselle swallowed, shook her head angrily—“he hated her. And it’s my fault she’s dead, because I asked her—I could see Light, she used it and I was so surprised by it, it didn’t feel evil like they all say, and I thought that—” She swallowed again. “So I asked—if she would teach me.” Sil got to her feet, wrapped both arms around her friend’s shoulders, and drew her close. “It’s—I’m all right,” Ryselle whispered after a moment.
“No, you aren’t,” Sil replied softly. “No one expects that of you, Ryselle. But you aren’t to blame, Lialla wanted to teach you. How was anyone to know that would happen?”
Jennifer shook her head. “You aren’t at fault, Ryselle. Vuhlem is. He’s the one who acted—I think he hoped the shock of what he did would kill Shesseran, or at least cause such chaos he could profit from it. He has men in Dro Pent, and he’s poised to take Cornekka. Probably Sikkre, too, though if he has troops on our border, no one’s found them yet.” Ryselle simply looked at her. “Lialla was my friend, too. We—we went through a lot together, getting her brother’s throne away from their uncle. Vuhlem’s actions are—unconscionable, and you aren’t responsible, Ryselle, because he’d have found a way. You were convenient, that’s all.” Silence. “He won’t get away with it.”
“No.” The grandmother touched the silver-and-moon-stone pendant she wore. “The Holmaddi think it the end of the world, a disaster like this. And every caravaner pulled back from the city—from the entire Duchy.” She shook her head. “I had originally thought to suggest Green Arrow or another of the smaller households, remain north to learn what they might of Vuhlem’s movements for the Emperor, but it isn’t safe, of course. He’s already proven he’ll kill.”
“What kills a Triad?” Ryselle demanded suddenly. Sil pulled back to stare at her. “What—how is it done?”
“If any of us knew,” Jennifer replied gloomily, “we’d have found and broken Vuhlem’s as soon as Lialla sent word out he had one. It stood to reason he wouldn’t want it for any good cause—any more than Jadek did. And this one’s young; it has no conscience.”
“And neither has Vuhlem,” Sil added crisply. “We know all that. Ryselle, I don’t like that look in your eye. If Lialla couldn’t destroy—”
“She—wa
sn’t trying to destroy it!” Ryselle snapped. “She was trying to keep it from using me and then to hold the roof against it so everyone else could get out!”
Sil gripped her shoulders, shook her gently. “Ryselle, you’re not thinking! If Lialla had known how to destroy a Triad, she’d have done it the first time there was an opportunity! You’ve heard all the arguments, you were part of most of them; she didn’t know!” Sil shook her again. “You can’t blame yourself, I won’t have it.” Silence. Ryselle wouldn’t meet her eyes. “We’ll go back to Hushar Oasis, wait for her brother’s guard, and ride with them to Duke’s Fort, to see her properly—properly buried. Her and the boy both.”
“You should come with me to Podhru,” the grandmother said mildly. “There isn’t enough distance between the Duke’s palace and Sikkre or Zelharri; not for someone whose inner being has been touched by a Triad.”
She isn’t planning on going anywhere, Jennifer realized, except back north. No point arguing that now; she’d get Sil aside, warn her. She probably would have felt the same as Ryselle did, but there wasn’t any use in her throwing herself at Vuhlem. Keep her here, perhaps. Dangerous, the grandmother said… Still, if it was dangerous here for Ryselle, it might be dangerous for a certain Thukara, too. Jadek’s Triad invaded me; I’m stronger than I was back then, and I know more, but that doesn’t mean I know enough. And if Ryselle could actually Shape—-something Jennifer had never been able to do—it might be possible for the two of them to work out a way to at least neutralize that Triad. Long enough for someone else to fry it, she thought grimly.
Sil resumed her chair; Ryselle sat on the floor next to her, her head resting against Sil’s leg. Her eyelashes were starred with tears; one ran down her cheek.
Jennifer’s throat tightened: Lialla dead. It didn’t seem possible. All the warnings we gave her, all the times we said she was asking for just—oh, Hell, just what she got. But Dahven wasn’t going to let her go as far as Hushar to say good-bye, let alone to Duke’s Fort for the funeral; he was right, of course, it wasn’t safe. Vuhlem would love for another hostage to take young Oloric’s place. But even if Dahven had let her go, the midwife would never permit her to travel. She’s probably figuring on how to get hold of my sneakers and cancel my runs. She swallowed hard, ran a discreet finger under her nose, then looked up as Siohan tapped at the partly open door. She came in with a pot of coffee, warmed cider, and fresh rolls on a tray.
Not long after, one of Jennifer’s clerks eased into the room, the heavy dispatch case in her arms. Red Hawk’s grandmother held out her hands to let Sil aid her to her feet. “I’ll see the Heir—I forget, the Emperor—gets this at once.” She glanced at Sil, then at Ryselle. “You’re still determined to accompany the sin-Duchess, I suppose?” Silence. “Yes. Well, you take care, both of you. I’ll be quite put out if I have to begin training a new Heir at this point in my life, mind that!” Sil nodded. The corners of her lips twitched briefly.
“Yes, Grandmother. We’ll take the south road as soon as we can, after—after. Go straight to the civil service. You’ll be—where?”
“Usual hostel, if there’s room. With the port closed for so long, there should be.” The older woman crossed to the bed and held out’both hands. Jennifer took them. “Take good care of yourself, Thukara.”
“Oh, yes.” Jennifer sighed faintly. “I’ll certainly do that.”
“Good. Ryselle, carry the case for me, will you? And you’ve riding boots in my cart still, you’d better retrieve them now, we’re leaving at once.” The clerk handed the case to Ryselle, who bowed deeply, then followed the older woman into the hallway.
Sil hesitated. “Thukara—Jen. If there’s any message you’d like me to pass to Duke’s Fort—”
Jennifer held up a hand. “You watch that red-haired child,” she said quickly, one eye on the open door. “She means to get away from you and go after Vuhlem.”
Sil nodded, glanced over her shoulder. “I—I know what she wants. She utterly refuses to go south to Podhru, we’ve argued it until my head aches. I—don’t know what to do with her.”
“Go south via Sikkre,” Jennifer said. “Even with the extra jog from Zelharri, it won’t cost you much extra time because the road’s so new and flat. Leave her with me.”
“Why? I mean,” Sil turned red. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded. But—”
“She was Lialla’s friend and she’s yours. I personally don’t think we should sacrifice anyone else to Vuhlem. More than that, though, if she’s actually begun to Shape Light, if she’s willing to help me—”
“Help you—against Vuhlem.” Sil freed a strand of hair, twisted it around her finger. “She’d be more than willing, couldn’t you tell? But I—frankly, I would rather she didn’t; he’ll kill her simply because she’s dared rise what little she has above a village woman’s lot. Or he’d give her back to her father, who’d drag her out onto the sand, make her dig her own hole at low tide—”
Jennifer shuddered. “Yes, I know about that. I don’t intend to let harm come to her through me. Obviously, I can’t guarantee that won’t happen. But don’t you think she’s more likely to stay put somewhere at least halfway safe if she feels she’s doing something against the man?”
“Gods. Yes, of course. I just—” Sil’s cheekbones were still very red. “She’s my good friend and she’s a villager, an innocent. I—we’re nearly of an age, but I sometimes feel I’m years beyond her, and a wealth of experience wiser. It’s not—I don’t want to see her hurt. If I can somehow keep her safe—it’s not what you think, either,” she added sharply.
Jennifer shook her head. “I didn’t particularly think—what, that she’s your lover?” Sil went red right to the hairline; Jennifer’s face felt hot, too. She kept her voice level and expressionless. “Frankly, it wouldn’t matter to me, either way. It’s beside the point, too. If you’ll talk to her, convince her I mean well, that I want to find a way to at least slow that Triad. If—you know Afronsan means to invade Holmaddan, if Vuhlem doesn’t give over—and Vuhlem never will. Imagine how much luck a green army would have taking that palace.”
“Gods. With Vuhlem and his Triad free to—gods,” Sil said, very softly. She glanced toward the door. “They’ll wonder where I am, I’d better go. I’m—sorry, Thukara.”
“For what? That was a personal question, you had every right to snarl at me. And it’s Jen, remember?”
“Well—I am sorry. I’ll—bring Ryselle back here.”
“Good. We’ll find a way, Sil.” Jennifer tucked her feet back under the covers. The caravaner managed a faint smile, turned, and went. Jennifer thumped pillows flat and lay down. “She doesn’t believe it any more than I do, right now,” she mumbled; A tear ran down her face, slid down her throat. She blotted it angrily. “Oh—damn you anyway, Lialla.”
“I said that all along.” Jennifer started, rubbed her eyes hastily. Dahven came into the room, sat on the side of the bed, and drew her close. “Siohan thought you might like company, and I was tired of arguing with Grelt anyway.” She sighed, leaned into him. “Learn anything useful?”
“Doubt it. Messy details.”
“Mmmm. I’m sorry. She exasperated me, but I know you liked her. And the rest of it—you feel all right?” he asked after a moment. She nodded. “Eat something?”
“Ate. Drank cider, ate a roll, had some coffee. Is it midday yet?”
“Close enough, I suspect.”
“I’m getting up.” She shoved hair out of her face, looked up at him. “You aren’t arguing with me.”
“No, ma’am,” he said evenly. “Argued enough with Grelt.”
“Still not letting you go to Dro Pent, is he?” Dahven hesitated; shook his head. “That’s not a real answer.”
“Um—” He eyed her sidelong. “No, I’m not going to Dro Pent.” He reached for one of the remaining rolls on the small tray, tore it in half. “They’re good; want to share?”
“You’re stalling,” Jennifer said flatly. She
pushed away from him. “And trying to divert my attention, it won’t work.”
He chewed and swallowed. Set the rest of the roll back on the tray. His shoulders were tense. “I’m not going to Dro Pent.” He turned to eye her sidelong. Jennifer folded her arms and waited. “Grelt doesn’t like it, but there aren’t any other choices.”
“I don’t like it, either,” Jennifer said mildly, “and I don’t even know what it is I don’t like, yet.”
“I’m leading the other half of our men north, into Holmaddan.”
12
Chris didn’t care much for the French ambassador to New Lisbon: Frenault had the pinched-nostrils look of someone who detected a bad smell; he was polite toward Ariadne in an extremely chilly fashion, barely civil to himself, and as for Edrith—well, Eddie always claimed he didn’t notice such things. Dija was too obviously awed by the outrageously ornate room and by the legal proceedings to pay attention to the ambassador, except as another overly decorated item in the chamber, so far as he could tell.
Frenault: I thought an ambassador was supposed to promote goodwill, or something! This guy doesn’t look like he’d know goodwill if it bit him. He didn’t speak English, of course—Chris doubted he spoke Portuguese, either. So I’m not noble, but Frenault isn’t, either. He’s not as far above me on the ladder as he’d like to think he is. It would be a pleasure to haul the man down a rung or so, but hardly sensible. Make nice, Cray. Ignore the look; after all, he’s helping us pack Dupret in ice.
Maybe. Frenault might be in Dupret’s pocket. Ariadne didn’t know, and Chris still couldn’t decide, even after several hours of the man’s chill company—especially that first extremely unpleasant meeting: just Frenault, himself, and Ari—which the ambassador had clearly only reluctantly agreed after he’d received the introduction letter from the Alliance man, Barton. All the same, to Chris’s surprise, at the end of their talk, Frenault had immediately drafted a message to Philippe Dupret in Paris, and another to the King’s Council for Foreign Affairs. All right, he was cooperating, where it counted. Probably not Dupret’s man, after all. Just a snob. The down-the-nose look had better not have anything to do with any facet of Ariadne’s parentage, Chris thought flatly, or Frenault would have more problems than he could count on both overly clean, be-ringed hands.
