Gabriel wandered over to the wall. He rested a hand against it, gazed into the distance. “If I’m honest, I think I did the wrong thing by your sister from the moment I met her.” A long pause. “I wish I could explain, but if I told you the real reason that I didn’t marry your sister, you’d be disgusted. But please understand, I thought that it was impossible for me to make her happy, and I—”
“Gabriel?” A female voice interrupted, echoing through the hallway.
Ezekiel turned to see a woman making her way down the stairs to the bottom level. She was dressed like a noblewoman in a dress made of fine cloth with decorative stitching at the hems. Like all the nobles, her clothes were both modest and simple. Humility was a virtue, and even the members of the landowning class were cautioned never to think themselves better than the common people. That was what God commanded. Ezekiel had been alive long enough to know that most nobles thought the common people dirt and treated them as such. Still, it was a nice thought, anyway.
Gabriel went to the woman, meeting her at the bottom of the steps. “Leah. What are you doing down here?”
“Certainly I’m allowed out of my quarters occasionally.” There was a hint of sarcasm in the woman’s voice.
Gabriel’s jaw twitched. “I thought we agreed it would be best if you stayed out of sight as much as possible for now. Until you’re… you know.” He glanced meaningfully at her belly.
Ezekiel was instantly suspicious. What was that all about? He cleared his throat.
Gabriel looked back at him, and there was worry in his expression. “Uh, Ezekiel, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a moment.”
“A moment?” said Ezekiel.
“Yes, just one moment alone. I’ll be with you again very quickly.”
“Sir, I don’t mean to overstate my bounds, but I would be remiss to leave you alone with a woman. We are all to guard each other against temptation.”
“Oh, no.” Gabriel laughed. “Leah is my wife, and so, you see…”
That was what Ezekiel had thought. So, this was Gabriel’s wife. The one he’d married within weeks of Honor’s death, when he wouldn’t marry Honor for two full years. What was it about this Leah that made her more special than Ezekiel’s sister? He didn’t think he’d ever seen her before, and so she certainly didn’t have more land, money, or prestige that Ezekiel’s family. In fact, since he didn’t know her, that could only mean that Leah was… a commoner?
Could it be?
It wasn’t unheard of for noblemen to take common women as wives. It was considered good practice to keep the bloodlines clean. However, no man took a commoner as a first wife. That simply wasn’t done.
Ezekiel advanced on the two of them. “Your wife?” He plastered a big smile on his face. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure.”
Gabriel looked annoyed. “Yes, of course. Ezekiel, may I present my wife Leah. Leah, this is Ezekiel.”
Ezekiel took her hand.
She smiled at him. “Ezekiel, I don’t think I’ve seen you at court before.”
“He’s here about his sister, Honor,” said Gabriel. “He just arrived today.”
“Honor,” said Leah. “That’s the woman who was so tragically lost to us.”
“Just before you arrived,” said Ezekiel. “Yes.”
Gabriel made a choking noise in the back of his throat. “It’s not like that, Ezekiel. I assure you. If you’re thinking that Leah’s arrival is in any way connected to Honor, then you’re completely wrong.”
Ezekiel folded his arms over his chest. “I’m wrong? But you admit it looks suspicious.”
Gabriel rubbed the back of his neck. “There’s nothing suspicious about it. Would you please give me a moment alone with my wife?”
“Why?” said Ezekiel. “So that you can usher her upstairs and keep her out of sight so that no one at court notices how fast her belly is growing?”
Leah sighed. “Oh, what does it matter? Everyone’s going to guess anyway. He guessed in two minutes. It’s not as if they can stop us from being married, is it?”
Gabriel buried his head in his hands.
Ezekiel took a breath. He was trembling again, but this time it was in anger. “So, she is pregnant. You are, aren’t you, madam?”
“Yes,” said Leah. “Gabriel and I were madly in love, and we just couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. But we’re married now, and surely, God will understand our sin was prompted by love.”
Gabriel raised his face to glare at her. “Go upstairs,” he said in a tight voice.
“What?” she said.
He pointed.
“You can’t keep me upstairs forever, Gabriel.”
“I’ll deal with you later,” Gabriel growled.
“No, it’s fine,” said Ezekiel. “I think I understand everything perfectly now. I don’t suppose I’ll be needing your assistance any longer, sir, thank you.” He turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway, his back to the emperor’s son.
“Ezekiel,” called Gabriel. “You don’t, you know. You don’t understand.”
Ezekiel kept walking. He entered the receiving room again and took several breaths to steady himself. He couldn’t believe he’d allowed himself to be so charmed by Gabriel. He was hopeless when it came to good-looking men, and he hated himself for it. Perhaps Honor had felt the same way. Perhaps she’d waited for the emperor’s son to be ready for her, charmed by his boyish smile and his easy nature.
But all the time, Gabriel had been dallying with a common girl. And eventually, he’d impregnated her.
Gabriel would obviously know what happened to illegitimate children. They and their mothers were cast out. They were forced to travel from place to place, never allowed to settle. They and others like them formed small enclaves to perform for villages. He wouldn’t have wanted a life like that for his child. Not singing and juggling for a few coins, nearly starving, always on the run.
No, he’d want to marry and save that child from shame.
Of course, there was a problem. He was promised to Honor, and he had to marry her first. But if he did marry her, he’d have to wait the customary year before taking a second wife.
So, there was no way out of it except to get rid of Honor. And so, Gabriel had done it. It was the only thing that made sense.
Ezekiel shook all over. He wanted to run back into that hallway and wrap his hands around Gabriel’s neck and squeeze—
“Ezekiel.”
He whirled.
Gabriel stood in the doorway.
“Don’t,” Ezekiel rasped. “Stay away from me.”
“No, I have to try to make you understand—”
“That you murdered my sister to save your child from being branded a bastard? I think I understand just fine,” said Ezekiel.
“That’s not…” Gabriel balled his hands into fists and pressed them against his eyes. His voice was muffled. “It’s all very complicated.”
“Not complicated. Simple. It sounded pretty simple when I said it, didn’t it?”
Gabriel lowered his hands and took a step towards Ezekiel.
“Stop,” said Ezekiel.
“I never hurt Honor. I swear to God, I wouldn’t do something like that.”
“So, I’m supposed to believe that she conveniently died and allowed you to marry your pregnant mistress, is that it?”
Gabriel’s face reddened. “She wasn’t my mistress.”
“What are you talking about? Of course she was. That’s plain as day. You can’t deny that.”
The emperor’s son squeezed his eyes shut and opened them. “No. It’s not like that. It’s… well, it’s really impossible to explain, but you have to trust me.”
“That’s the thing,” said Ezekiel. “I don’t trust you. Now I don’t have any proof of what you’ve done, not yet, but I will, and when I do, I’ll bring this before the high council and you’ll be—”
“Stop.” Gabriel grabbed Ezekiel by the shoulders. “Listen, you positively cannot do that. It would be disast
rous for Leah, and she’s had a rather long string of bad luck.”
“For Leah? What about my sister?”
“I had nothing to do with what happened to your sister. It’s like I said, I never even saw her body.”
Ezekiel struggled out of the other man’s grasp. “Sure, you didn’t.”
“I didn’t. Listen, would I have tried to help you find her body if I’d actually murdered her?”
It was the same thought that Ezekiel had earlier. It made a certain amount of sense, but this theory that Gabriel had harmed Honor also made sense. He was confused. He wasn’t sure what he believed.
“Something strange is going on,” said Gabriel. “You have to see that. It’s very odd that her body’s disappeared. No one’s seen it, and that’s—”
“Someone must have seen it.” Ezekiel glared at him. “Otherwise, how would anyone know she was dead?”
“But that’s exactly my point. We don’t know she’s dead. And I wouldn’t give you false hope if I knew otherwise. How would that serve me?”
“Your father seemed convinced she was dead when he sent word to my family.”
“Well, let me talk to my father then.”
“I want to talk to your father.”
“Of course. But you waited half a day for him to give you an audience, and he never arrived. You may wait for weeks before he decides he has time for you. I can get in to see him sooner.”
“I don’t trust you,” said Ezekiel. “I thought we’d established that.”
Gabriel sighed.
“Even if you didn’t murder my sister,” said Ezekiel, “you didn’t do right by her. You were engaged to her, but you were involved with Leah all the while—”
“I wasn’t,” said Gabriel.
“She said that the two of you were madly in love.”
“I told her to say that. But I’m not in love with her. I couldn’t be in love with her.”
What was he saying? Ezekiel shook his head at him.
Gabriel was flustered. “No—that’s not what I meant. Of course I… love her. She’s my wife.” He let out a noisy breath and didn’t meet the other man’s gaze. “I don’t know what it is about you, Ezekiel, but I can’t seem to stop wanting to be honest with you. But it wouldn’t be a good idea to tell you the truth.”
“Because the truth is that you killed my sister?”
“No.”
Ezekiel turned away. “Say what you want. I’m through with listening. I’ll get to the bottom of all of this.” He started to walk across the room.
Gabriel caught him by the shoulder and turned him around. “Wait.”
Ezekiel whirled, shaking Gabriel away. “Keep your hands off me.”
“I want to believe that I could tell you.” Gabriel looked deeply into the other man’s eyes. “I almost think… But I can’t chance it. If it went badly… well…”
Ezekiel stepped backward. “For all I know, you murdered my sister. Don’t speak to me. Don’t come near me. Do you understand?”
Gabriel’s jaw worked, as if he was trying to speak.
Ezekiel didn’t let him. He turned away again and stalked across the room to the door. This time, the other man didn’t stop him.
* * *
Michal, daughter of the emperor, tossed her hair insouciantly. “I really don’t understand why you’re angry, Father. It’s not like I planned it. I got the bean. Nothing I can do about that, now, is there?”
Her father was pacing in his study. He wouldn’t look at her, but she could tell from his movements that he was angry. “It’s as if you’re a complete dimwit. You do know what happens to the necromancer’s wife, don’t you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Father, there hasn’t been a necromancer in fifty years.”
“That doesn’t matter,” he said. “A new one could rise at any time.”
“But one won’t.”
He turned on her, advancing slowly. “Perhaps you need a refresher course, daughter. When a necromancer rises, he is always unstable. He is a revenant in all ways except for the fact that he retains his ability to think and speak. The hope is that he’ll retain his self-control along with that.”
Michal backed up. She didn’t like the look in her father’s eyes.
He kept coming. “But there’s no guarantee of that. And because there was no way to be sure that the necromancer could be trusted not to begin eating the very people he was meant to protect, our ancestors came up with a test.”
Michal backed up again. But now she had nowhere to go. She had backed into one of her father’s tables.
Her father closed in on her. “That test involves a girl. One girl who is chosen by lottery to be the necromancer’s wife. He spends one night with her. If she survives, the necromancer is safe. If she is dead… well, then he isn’t, and the necromancer is put to death. You could be eaten, daughter, do you understand? A maddened husk of a man could tear your flesh from your bones with his teeth.”
Michal flinched. “But… Father… they don’t have necromancers anymore.”
In the past, necromancers were much more common. There were holy men trained in the art of helping them rise. But many of the necromancers were unstable, and they did indeed eat their brides. At that time, the necromancer’s wives were chosen among the common people, and so girls were being killed left and right.
At some point, there was an outcry amongst the people, and they refused to allow any more of their daughters to be offered up to the necromancers. At the time, Judah the Equalizer was the emperor, and he calmed the people by changing the rules. Now, the necromancer’s wife would be chosen from amongst the nobility. Since that time, the number of necromancers had dwindled.
After only a few of the noblewomen were killed, the practice was not as welcome to the emperor or the nobility anymore. Gradually, the holy men stopped bringing forth necromancers, and then the practice had stopped altogether.
Some people bemoaned the loss of necromancers, because they could indeed be useful. The necromancers had the ability to control the revenants. With necromancers, revenants were not dangerous. They could be used for work, as free labor. In the old days, nearly every landowning regent had a necromancer and a crew of revenants working in the fields.
But the empire was now surrounded by fences and rivers, and almost all the revenants were outside. Certainly, now and then, one wandered into a village, or a horde was awakened when some idiot went traipsing through some part of the forest that hadn’t been explored in years. But for the most part, the empire was safe. There was no need of necromancers.
The emperor glared at Michal. “A necromancer could very well rise. One could be rising this very instant, for all you know.”
“Father, please.” Michal extricated herself from between the table and her father. She found a chair and sat down. “That’s not even why you’re angry, is it? You’re angry because I’m off the marriage market, and you’ve promised me somewhere again.”
The emperor’s lip twisted. “You have been a worthless daughter, I must admit. All my other girls were eager to please me, and they married and made good alliances for our family and for the empire. But you have been spoiled and willful. Your mother indulges you too much.”
That was more like it. Michal knew that he wasn’t really concerned with her dying. There was no way she was going to be eaten by a necromancer. It was laughable really, like the idea of being carried off by a dragon.
“You’ll have to marry at once,” said her father. “That’s the only way out for you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” said Michal. “I don’t want to get married. I’ve told you before. And now I don’t have to. I think this is perfect.”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“No. I got the bean. It was chance.” Michal shrugged.
He shook his head. “You really are an idiot girl.”
That was typical too. Her father was always insulting her. She was used to it by now, but
occasionally, it still stung. She knew what it took to garner her father’s praise. She would need to be demure, silent, and obedient—allow her father to direct all her choices. Well, his praise wasn’t worth all that to Michal, and so she had come to accept his ire instead.
“Perhaps you deserve it,” he said.
“Deserve to have a choice over my own future? Deserve to be free of being forced to marry some man I despise? Yes, I think I do.”
He chuckled. “Deserve to be offered up to a monster for a meal.”
“Father, why do you keep harping on this? There are no necromancers.”
He shrugged. “I’m done with you, Michal. You wish to do as you please? Well, have at it. I can’t deal with your willful attitude anymore. Whatever happens to you is your own fault. Leave me.” He gestured to the door.
She got up and started out of the room. That was fine. She didn’t like being around him anyway. She opened the door.
He was muttering. “Stupid girl deserves what she gets.”
She threw herself out and slammed the door on him.
* * *
Ezekiel wandered around the mansion for a while after taking leave of Gabriel. At first, all he could do was seethe. His heart pounded in his chest, and he didn’t think he’d ever been quite so angry. After a bit, though, he began to calm down.
And then he began to talk to the servants that he saw in the hallways, questioning them about Honor.
Most remembered her, and they had nice things to say. Honor had a sweet disposition, and she was always kind to the servants, or so they said.
But when it came to the night of Honor’s death, no one seemed to have actually witnessed her fall. In fact, no one that he spoke to had even seen the body.
He thought he was onto a lead at one point when he spoke to the butler, who said that he hadn’t seen the fall, but that Stuart in the kitchens most definitely had.
Ezekiel had made his way to the kitchens and asked after Stuart. A black-haired lad with buck teeth came out to talk to him.
Unfortunately, Stuart hadn’t seen the body either. He said that he’d been near the wing of the castle that night, but that hallway had been blocked off and no one had been allowed in. Presumably because of Honor’s body, he supposed. But at the time, he’d thought it had something to do with the fact that some prisoners had escaped from the dungeons.
Empire of Rust Page 3
