The Black Shriving (Chronicles of the Black Gate Book 2)

by Phil Tucker

  "Why'd you come, then? Why'd you leave them behind and follow Lady Kyferin here?"

  Hannus looked at him in surprise. "Because it wasn't right, what Lord Laur did. I couldn't stand by."

  "Simple as that?"

  Hannus thought about it, then said, "Yes. I'm sure there's some who could talk at length about their reasons, but that's the heart of it. It wasn't right."

  Tiron nodded. "Agreed. I'm glad you're here. But if you ever want to return to your family, I'll not fault you."

  "You wouldn't?"

  Tiron shook his head and turned to leave. "I had a wife and son once. I spent precious little time with them. I regret that now, more than anything. If you think you truly need to be with your family, then go. If you decide you'd rather be the kind of man who protects Lady Kyferin when she's wronged, then stay. Either way, it's your decision to make and then own."

  He clapped Hannus on the shoulder, then walked the perimeter of the balcony, peering down at the gardens several floors below. He forced himself to focus, to truly study the lines of ornate shrubs and fish ponds and not stare blankly into the distance as he considered his problems. It was possible someone could climb the ornate façade, or perhaps even one of the palm trees and so gain the balcony, but unlikely. He paused and gazed pensively down at a pond on the surface of which black swans were gliding, then stepped back inside.

  Someone knocked at the door. Ord waited for Tiron, who stepped up and opened it.

  A young man in an elegant blue robe bowed deeply. "The Emperor Thansos, first of his name, has asked for the honor of having Lady Iskra Kyferin join him at dinner tonight." The young man's Ennoian was all whispery, but clear. "If that is pleasing, I shall return to escort you to the dining hall."

  "All right," said Tiron. "She'll be ready."

  The page, probably used to more flowery responses, blinked once before bowing again. "The chamberlain has also instructed me to offer a variety of suitable robes and accessories for her retinue to wear. If that is agreeable, I shall have them delivered promptly."

  Tiron stared at the young man. "What are you saying about our clothing?"

  The page paled, his gaze flicking down to Tiron's bedraggled, torn armor and filthy tunic. "It was meant merely as a suggestion, my lord. If you -"

  "Very well," said Tiron, not wanting to bait the young man further. "Send along the robes." He shut the door before the page could bow again, then looked to Ord. "When's the last time you had a bath?"

  "Does wading through that cistern count?"

  Tiron shook his head.

  "Then..." Ord trailed off in thought. "Do you mean on purpose?"

  Tiron snorted. "Enough said. It looks like your loyalty to Lady Kyferin is about to be tested, soldier. Prepare yourself."

  Two hours later they were all clean and scrubbed and wearing soft robes of silk dyed a rather striking shade of Ennoian green. Tiron was standing to one side, Hannus and Ord beside him, all of them smelling like flowers, their skin stinging from the abrasive sponges wielded by the handmaidens who had attended them, their beards trimmed and oiled, their feet getting used to strange leather sandals. Any desire to protest had been silenced when Tiron saw how black the water was in the copper tubs when they emerged. Even the black rings under his nails were gone. It felt... strange. Pleasant, even. Disconcerting.

  The door to Iskra's chamber opened and she emerged, silencing all thoughts and causing him to straighten to attention. The same page had furnished her with a delicate green gown with hanging sleeves, which somehow hugged her figure in all the right places while still giving the impression of modesty and refinement. Her auburn hair was done up with elegant simplicity, and her face was luminous.

  Iskra stopped to let them regard her and raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Ser Tiron?"

  He felt his face flush, something that almost never happened to him, and he quickly coughed into his fist and looked away. "You look -" His mind raced. What to say? Ravishing gorgeous beautiful stunning - "You look very nice, my lady."

  "How gentlemanly of you." She glided forward, extending her arm to take his own. He stood stiffly by her side, painfully aware of her touch. "Oh do relax, Ser Tiron. Surely my company can't be so onerous?"

  "Not at all," he said, perhaps a trifle too loudly. Had he offended her? "I'm simply concerned about your safety tonight."

  "Oh? You think to protect me by glowering?"

  The page who had been waiting opened their door and began to lead them down the hall.

  Ser Tiron coughed into his free hand. He had offended her. "I intend to protect you by any means necessary. I'll glower if it helps."

  Iskra glanced sidelong at him. Was that a hint of a smile? "Then please be so kind to deploy it only when needed. I would rather not spend the entire evening assuring everyone we meet that they are in no danger of being attacked."

  "As you desire," said Tiron. His heart was racing. "I shall reserve it for when needed, though I doubt I shall need it at all. The Agerastians will learn quickly as to how formidable an opponent you are."

  "Formidable? My dear Ser Tiron," said Iskra, her voice warm with amusement. "I believe that might have been a compliment."

  Again he felt his face burn. He could practically feel Ord and Hannus smirking at his back. Why had he opened his damn fool mouth and begun this line of conversation? "No, my lady. Not a compliment." He practically marched her down the hall. "Merely a statement of facts. As I see them."

  "Well, as your lady, I command you to state such facts as they strike you. I find myself growing more and more curious about your world view."

  Luckily he was saved from further torture by their arriving at a grand staircase where other nobles and people of note were descending, like elegant fowls alighting in a pond, toward a long hall in which strange music was playing. Tiron felt eyes immediately turn to Lady Iskra, and he tried to stand even straighter, ignoring once more the burn in his side from his wound.

  The music was plangent, some kind of stringed instrument accompanied by cymbals and a drum. Hundreds of candles were burning in wall sconces, and the hall was decorated to appear like a forest, the columns carved like trees, the ceiling painted with an arboreal theme. Tiron guessed it was quite attractive, but he didn't spare much time on the decorations. Instead, he forced himself to relax.

  Walking into this crowd was akin to wading into battle. You couldn't count on spotting your foe before he attacked you, and turning rapidly in every direction in a vain attempt to keep everyone in view was the mistake of a novice. Instead, he exhaled and didn't let himself focus on any one thing; letting his eyes wander, he sought to pick up knots of tension in the patterns around him, alert for some sudden movement in the corner of his vision that might signal an unexpected attack.

  Iskra was in her element, smiling and bowing her head to all who sought to engage or compliment her, but not stopping to become embroiled in any conversation just yet. Around him swirled the Agerastian language, and Tiron wished that Orishin were present and providing them with an ongoing translation of the factions and words at play.

  A group of somber men in white and blue robes approached and bowed stiffly to Iskra, who curtseyed smoothly in return. Tiron recognized one of the men in the group: Patrician Athash.

  "Good evening, Lady Kyferin." Athash's eyes devoured her frame before he managed to look up and meet her gaze. "I was just speaking with my fellow senators of your arrival earlier today. May I be so bold as to effect introductions?"

  Iskra inclined her head, and Athash introduced a half dozen men, all of whom studied her as a feline might a bowl of cream.

  "I had not known that there was a senate," said Iskra gravely when he had finished. "I find myself growing ever more curious about the structure of government here in Agerastos."

  Athash inclined his head. "Our senate is prestigious, composed of the greatest worthies from across our island. It is our duty and honor to advise the emperor on all matters political, and I do not believe I presume overmuch w
hen I say he welcomes and values our thoughts."

  Iskra smiled. "A ruler is made wise when he listens to the counsel of those with wisdom."

  Athash smiled in return, but there was no warmth in the expression. "You are correct, Lady Kyferin. I would be glad to explain at a later date the workings of our government and perhaps provide you with some insight about our current situation."

  "That would be most welcome, Patrician. Thank you." Iskra curtseyed again, then made a subtle pressure on Tiron's arm that caused him to begin walking again, leaving the senators behind. "If one were to judge from Athash's lack of subtlety," said Iskra quietly, so that only Tiron could hear, "then I would guess him a most ineffective politician, which in turn speaks volumes as to the true utility of his senate."

  "Then why does the emperor listen to them?" Tiron was finding the constant swirl of robes and the glittering of the candlelight on jewelry bemusing.

  "It is better to keep your enemies gathered and in sight then allow them to indulge in subterfuge. And perhaps the patrician truly does believe himself important. If that's so, the senate may keep him occupied and prevent him from causing real trouble."

  A trio of purple- and yellow-clad women emerged from the shifting crowd to stop before them. Tiron immediately recognized the ashen-faced lady from the court.

  "Good evening, Lady Kyferin," she said. "I never had the chance to introduce myself. I am Vothak Ilina. May I introduce Vothak Shasana and Vothak Purisha?"

  "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances," said Lady Iskra.

  "You are not familiar with our language and customs, and perhaps might be confused by the title 'Vothak'. It signifies one in whose veins runs the blood of the medusa, and who is thus a practitioner of the occult arts, a wielder of magic." Ilina's tone was hard and to the point. "Of course the emperor is the ul-Vothak and leader of our academy, but I have the honor of being the al-Vothak, and am charged with overseeing all duties in his absence."

  "I see. Then we shall have much to discuss in the near future. Our potential partnership will no doubt be of great interest to you and your academy."

  "Precisely." Ilina inhaled audibly through her nose. "I cannot say that I believe your account without evidence, and am skeptical as to your ability to provide us with sufficient Gate Stone in time to be for it to be of practical use, even should your tale be true. However, it is a potential resource of great value, and as such I am in favor of exploring all options and possibilities related to it."

  Iskra inclined her head to one side graciously. "I completely understand, and look forward to not only demonstrating the veracity of my offer, but exploiting that resource to the great benefit of us both."

  Ilina nodded slightly, evidently finding Iskra's response satisfactory. "Very well. Good evening, Lady Kyferin."

  Again Tiron guided Iskra on, ever deeper into the hall. Their pace was slow and the crowd thick, but still it felt as if the hall were interminable.

  "An academy," said Iskra. "Fascinating. I believe Vothak Ilina may prove a true ally in time. Her directness is incredibly refreshing, even if it no doubt limits her ability to influence events here at court."

  They finally reached the end of the hall, where they found a large archway leading to the dining area beyond. In the manner of the great halls back home, a single long table sat at the far end on a raised dais, while two other tables extended down from it. The chamberlain was standing by the archway, perhaps preventing anyone from passing through, for the crowd had stopped and seemed content to wait - and glare at him and Iskra, Tiron noticed. The people before the archway were dressed in extravagant outfits, and had an austere and almost aggressive dignity to them that made their icy stares all the more striking.

  Tiron leaned in to whisper, "Did we do something wrong? I'm getting the distinct sense that we've offended."

  The chamberlain stepped forward. "Welcome, Lady Kyferin. Ser Tiron."

  Lady Kyferin curtseyed again, Ser Tiron bowed, and the chamberlain stepped back to his post.

  The change was miraculous. That single act of recognition seemed to soothe the ruffled feathers of those around them. Was proximity to the arch a question of prestige? Tiron didn't have a chance to discover. Trumpets sounded from somewhere within the hall, and Tiron turned to see the emperor being carried in on a couch by a group of servants and set at the center of the raised table. His daughter joined him, and a wealth of dignitaries, servants, advisers and others filed in to stand behind them or sit in some of the chairs.

  The trumpet was blown again, and the chamberlain nodded to Iskra as a young boy in rich clothing stepped up expectantly. "If you will follow me, my lady," the boy said.

  A second page stepped up to Ser Tiron. "If you will follow me, my lord?"

  They were being split up. Tiron looked urgently at Iskra, who gave him a slight nod then turned to follow the page into the dining hall. Tiron fought the urge to curse, but allowed the second boy to lead him forward a few paces and then stop.

  "Please bow deeply to the emperor," the boy whispered. "He does not expect the full formalities from you."

  Ser Tiron, Hannus, and Ord all bowed deeply, and then were shown to seats near the end of the left-hand table. Clearly they did not merit much rank. Tiron watched as Iskra was led right up to the emperor's table, where she curtseyed deeply, was greeted by quiet words, and then took the seat to the emperor's left.

  "I don't know much about politics," said Ord, leaning in close. "But that looks like quite a big score, don't you think?"

  Tiron nodded with satisfaction. In terms of public displays, that was as clear a statement as the emperor could make.

  More nobles and dignitaries began to file in, and the next hour was dedicated to an incredibly boring series of genuflections and polite gestures as people presented themselves to the emperor in ways increasingly more servile. Tiron saw that he'd been right. Those at the front, at the arch, were sitting closer to the emperor. At long last, others finally sat beside them, and the tables were filled.

  Music began, servants poured some delicious honeyed wine, and soon food was being brought in on an endless series of trays. Voices rose to a dull roar as people conversed, and Tiron saw that everyone was intent on looking to see who was watching them. A thousand invisible ploys and plots were taking place all around him, and he saw that many seemed to focus on Iskra high up beside the emperor, where she had been engaged in conversation since taking her seat. Each time she laughed, countless people would go silent and turn to watch, only to resume talking as if nothing had happened.

  The evening wore on. There was no end to the food, but Tiron ate sparingly and drank none of the wine. Entertainers came in, and Tiron had to admit to being impressed by a monster of a man who balanced a pole on his forehead, up which climbed two young boys who in turn stood and balanced on the pole's top. Ever more food came in, and Tiron noticed that a particularly striking serving girl with high cheekbones and bright eyes kept refilling Hannus' cup with a shy smile.

  "Easy," said Tiron to Hannus after the girl had walked away. "Stay focused."

  "Yes, I know, I know." Hannus smiled, his face a little flushed. "I've only taken a few sips to be polite."

  Finally the emperor was lifted on his couch and carried away from the table. While everyone had entered in careful ceremony, now people began to rise at random and form crowds between the two tables, while others remained seated.

  Tiron stood and frowned at Hannus - the man was blinking, and his head was nodding as if he were on the verge of sleep. "Watch him," he told Ord, then made his way through the crowd to meet Iskra, who had also left her table.

  Her face was flushed, and Tiron thought she was easily the most beautiful woman there. Eyes alight with satisfaction and excitement, cheeks bright with color and her lips set in a demure smile, she inclined her head graciously to Tiron, aware that she was still being watched, and whispered, "A most promising start. I have learned much. We're to have a private audience with the emperor tomorr
ow morning. I had no idea we would prove of such value to him. The situation - ah! I pray I'm not reading too much between the lines, but our timing couldn't have been better."

  Tiron felt a savage sense of satisfaction. "Excellent. Has he promised anything?"

  "Not as of yet. There is a lot of opposition to his ongoing war, and he now stands nearly alone but for the Vothak Academy at his back. Even his military are having second thoughts about the advisability of his campaign. It shouldn't take much to ally with his daughter and foil the invasion. Speaking of which –"

  Iskra turned as the emperor's daughter approached, courtiers and nobles moving aside so that a space appeared around the two women. Ylisa was perhaps slightly younger than Iskra, Tiron judged; her hair was as intricately braided as before, and a faint coppery blush had been applied to her full cheeks, complementing the bronze gloss on her wide lips.

  "Your Highness," said Iskra, lowering herself gracefully into a curtsy.

  "Lady Kyferin," said Ylisa, inclining her head. "Your presence here at court is causing quite the stir."

  Tiron didn't know how to read Ylisa's tone. Mocking? Warning? Amused?

  "Understandably so," said Iskra. "My arrival presages change."

  "Not all changes are welcome."

  "Alas, change is perhaps the one true constant in our lives."

  Ylisa's eyes glittered. "Though the nature of said change is yet to be determined."

  Iskra inclined her head. "Very true. The Agerastian empire stands at a fork in the road. Which direction it shall take is not yet clear."

  "Oh? You sound far less confident than you did during your presentation at court."

  "There is much that I have yet to share, Your Highness. Much that might be of particular interest to you."

  "Indeed?" Ylisa smiled. It was the practiced smile of a woman raised at court, meant for the watching crowd and no one else. "And how do you know where my interests lie?"