Palace Intrigue

by Lina J. Potter

  Lily now knew what she sought. All of the censers were removed from the walls of the ships’ quarters, along with the rugs and bed sheets in the prince’s room.

  When opened and tested, all of the censers gave up the same yellowish residue. Rashad called for Sulan, the medicus who had been swinging the censer, and Lily went to search his room. In no time, she found something that stopped her in her tracks. She opened a richly encrusted box and found a piece of cinnabar—mercury sulfide. To be sure, she applied her base again; the yellow color left no doubt.

  The countess was ready to have the man arrested, but Tahir stopped her. “He may not have meant any harm, My Lady.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “There is an old story that once, the Star Mare came to earth. An evil man tried to harm her, and this stone—cinnabar, as you call it—represents droplets of her blood.”

  Lily nodded. “I see. Where do you use it?”

  “Priests paint their faces with it.”

  “Do you ever eat it?”

  “That would be sacrilege, My Lady.”

  “What about putting it in censers?”

  “That is only done in extreme cases, to call on the Mare’s mercy.”

  The countess shook her head in disgust.

  ***

  The formal investigative committee consisted of Lily, Tahir, Jaimie, Rashad and the two other captains, whose names Lily could not remember, Lons, Taris, and Pastor Vopler. Mirrie sat on her stepmother’s lap, and their two dogs lay in the corner. Two Virmans guarded the door. Helke had been invited but claimed to be too busy to attend. Lily knew he disliked Khangans for some reason.

  Working together, the group tried to understand how the boy had been poisoned initially. The mercury vapors from the censers were no more than supporting doses. Who started the terrible process, and how?

  Rashad gave them as much information as he could. Sulan was not the official court healer. That had been Tahir’s job, and Tahir swore he had never used cinnabar as a remedy. In fact, he had seen enough elderly priests—men who had applied cinnabar to their skin throughout their whole lives—to suspect that the substance was not harmless.

  After a silence, Jaimie spoke up. “My Lady,” he said quietly, turning his face to Lilian, “is this blood of the Star Mare easy to obtain? I must confess I have never seen it before.”

  Lily played with her braid. He was right. “Tahir-jan?” she asked the healer.

  “Lilian-jan, it is a sacred substance. It cannot be bought or sold. It could only be obtained at a temple.”

  “That does not seem difficult.”

  Rashad spoke up. “My Lady, there are no temples at the Great Khangan’s palace. He does not keep holy men the way that you do,” and he looked at Pastor Vopler, who nodded in assent.

  “I have heard the same thing,” he said.

  Lily found that odd. “How do the people who live at the palace pray?”

  “They go to the temple in the city once every ten days,” Tahir answered.

  Lons, who had said nothing up until that point, became excited. “The easiest way to obtain this poison would be if you had a brother who served at the temple. Or a cousin, uncle, nephew…any relative, really. That way, the culprit would know about the properties of this ci-na…”

  “Cinnabar,” Lily finished for him.

  “Exactly. I expect that the priests are aware of the harm this substance causes,” Tahir agreed. He added, “It is the blood from the Mare’s wound. It can bring nothing but harm.”

  Lily felt she no longer understood. “Then why do the priests put it on their faces?” she asked.

  “Because the world is not perfect, Lilian-jan.” Tahir replied. He looked tired. “I will instruct you in the finer points of our religion some other time.”

  The countess bowed her head in assent.

  They needed to know more about the ties among the Khangan’s wives. Tahir had never been interested in such matters, and Rashad was not close enough to the royal family to have such knowledge. They would have to ask the heir.

  ***

  Amir was awake when the committee went in to see him. His nurse was telling him a Virman fairytale and feeding him egg whites. He looked up in surprise when the group crowded into his room.

  Rashad spoke for the committee. “Your Highness, we have discovered how the poison was given to you. We know what it is, but we do not know who was behind it.”

  “Is that so?” Amir was intrigued.

  Rashad explained about the substance they had found in the censers.

  Amir thought for a while but finally shook his head. “I do not know. I must write a letter to my Father. I never gave much thought to his harem.”

  Lily turned to Rashad. “Write for him. Ask your Great Khangan to investigate his own mares.”

  “My Lady!” Rashad was shocked by such disrespectful language.

  The countess stared back at him. “And now, we must leave the sick room. The patient will never get better with all of us in here.”

  ***

  Jerrison Earton, a gallant nobleman and dedicated ladies’ man, stood in the middle of his room cursing everything under the sun. He would have gone on in the same vein for the rest of the day if his cousin hadn’t come in.

  “What’s wrong with you?”

  Instead of an answer, he was handed a scroll.

  Richard caught it and examined the seals. “From the Khanganate. Is it about your shipbuilding business?”

  “No!”

  Impressed by his cousin’s emotion, Richard quickly unrolled the scroll and read the first few lines. He soon let loose a string of curses.

  It was a personal letter to Jerrison Earton from the Great Khangan. Richard knew a great deal about the Khangans, and he knew that their ruler was both the earthly leader of his people and a representative of their deity. He was not the kind of man to write letters to an earl in Ativerna.

  The letter was short, but it was extremely interesting.

  Your Lordship,

  By this letter, I inform you that my eldest son and heir is on his way to Earton for treatment. Be so kind as to write to your people so that they do not panic, and instead greet the boy and render him all assistance. I will write a separate letter to your manager. If my son dies, I will not hold you responsible. If he recovers, my gratitude will know no bounds.

  These unnerving words were followed by a signature and the seal of the Khanganate.

  “What nonsense is this? Is there a holy miracle worker on your estate?”

  “Not the last time I checked,” Jess growled. “I don’t know anything about what happens in Earton.”

  “True enough,” Richard agreed. “You were the last to find out that someone tried to kill your wife.”

  “My wife…” Jess muttered. Then he grabbed the box where he kept his letters. “My wife!” He picked up her last letter.

  This has been confirmed by an eminent healer who arrived in Earton by a happy twist of fate. I expect you will have heard of Tahir Djiaman din Dashar.

 

  “Who is this Tahir person?”

  “He’s her new medicus.” Jess snorted.

  Richard’s face relaxed. “Then it makes sense. They want to take the prince to see him. All you have to do is write to Earton and make sure they’re well received.”

  “Of course I’ll write. That’s all I can do.”

  His cousin smiled. “Perhaps you could take the opportunity to write to your wife, as well.”

  Jess ran a hand through his hair. “Why is everyone interested in that fool?”

  “Apparently not everyone thinks she’s a fool.”

  Jess looked away in annoyance. He could see that was the case, but he could not yet believe it. It was easier to believe that Maldonaya had taken possession of his wife’s body.

  ***

  Sulan Mavvar din Sharaya was in shock. No woman could attain the wisdom of a healer. Women were supposed to be silent and look at the floor. Women wer
e supposed to obey men. No woman should behave like the Countess of Earton, yelling at her elders and asking them impertinent questions.

  As a matter of fact, Rashad yelled louder than the countess. “Where did you get the cinnabar?”

  The old man looked up at him in distress. “What cinnabar?” Then his memory clicked. “Ah, you mean the blood of the Mare? Someone at the temple told me it would help.”

  “Who? When?”

  Slowly, the story came out. Sulan had gone to the temple to pray for success in healing the prince. The youngest priest had promised that he, too, would pray, and had suggested using cinnabar. Sulan did not know his name since the priests did not use regular names like other people. The man had simply called himself Sharadji.

  Rashad sighed. He would have to hold onto Sulan until they could get back to the Khanganate and he could identify the helpful young priest.

  Lily began to suspect that she would have to take the prince with her when she paid her visit to Edward’s court. She couldn’t leave him in his current state.

  ***

  My Royal Brother,

  May the grace of the Star Mare touch your brow…

  The letter was full of poetic images and courtesy, but the main point was delivered perfectly clearly. The Great Khangan was sending his son to Earton for treatment and very much hoped that the treatment would work; his royal brother was not opposed to the treatment, and his royal brother would provide all assistance to the countess and anyone else involved in healing the boy. If the treatment was successful, the Great Khangan would shower Earton with gold.

  Edward put his head down on his desk and laughed. What is that woman up to now? He began to be sorry that he hadn’t sent her to Wellster with the delegation, just to keep Gardwig busy.

  He took a deep breath and started to work on two letters. The first was a reply to his “royal brother” and stated that he would certainly do everything within his power to further the boy’s treatment. No gold would be necessary, he merely hoped to continue to enjoy the Great Khangan’s good graces.

  The second letter was to the Countess of Earton, promising all sorts of wonderful things if the Khangan’s son recovered. Edward made no threats concerning what he would do if the boy did not recover, but he knew Lilian Earton to be an intelligent woman. She would understand.

  Chapter 8

  A Prince Underfoot

  Amir lay in bed and looked up at the plain, white ceiling without decoration of any kind. It was easy on his eyes. He had been in Earton ten days and liked it there. His room was always quiet, and his nurse cared for him as if he were a small child. Better yet, his awful malady seemed to be releasing its grip on him.

  He still had attacks of nausea and pain that were only helped by strong sedatives, but the countess, who spent an hour by his bed each day, said that he was improving. He was no longer receiving the poison, she said, and it was up to his body to complete the process of recovery.

  All is the Mare’s will, he reflected.

  Amir realized that his father had saved his life, even without knowing the source of the danger. When he had received Tahir’s letter concerning poison, he had isolated his son from everyone, fired the servants and hired new healers. Apparently, that move had made it impossible for the poisoner to reach him, and his body had begun removing the poison, slowly but surely.

  During the trip to Earton, Sulan had subjected him to poisonous vapors, but the dose was much smaller.

  Thinking back over the long course of his illness, the boy clenched his fists. If only I knew who was responsible!

  Suddenly, a voice brought him back to the present. “Hello,” it said.

  He turned his head to look. Miranda Catherine Earton was standing by his bed. She must have slipped past the guards.

  “Hello,” he replied with a smile.

  “Why aren’t you asleep?”

  The girl talked to Amir as if he were a normal boy like everyone else. He thought that was curious. He had noticed that her stepmother had the same habit. Everyone else saw him as the son of the Great Khangan, but Lilian Earton saw him as a sick boy. Now, there was Miranda, looking at him with clear, friendly eyes.

  “I don’t know. Why did you come here?”

  “To look at you. I’ve never seen a prince before.”

  Amir grinned. “Well? Do you like me?”

  “No. You’re too skinny.”

  “Poison never makes you look good.”

  “I know. Mama Lily explained it to me. Don’t worry, she’ll fix you. She can fix anything. She saved my dog when someone tried to poison her.”

  “Why do you call her Mama Lily? How old is she?”

  “She’s young. I’m not really her daughter. My mother died, and then my father married Lily. I was just a baby.”

  “And now Lily is your mother?”

  The prince was intrigued, but Miranda just giggled and shook her head. “No. I never saw her until last autumn. I always lived with Papa, and Lily lived here.”

  “Why was that?”

  “I don’t know. We should ask. Last fall, Papa had to leave, so he needed to send me somewhere. I could choose to come here or go live with my aunt. I chose to come here.”

  “Why? Is your aunt awful?”

  “Very!” came Miranda’s emphatic reply. “Her children are awful, and she’s awful, and her husband is like a sugar-coated frog!”

  “Don’t you have other family in the capital?”

  Miranda scratched her nose. “I think I do, but Papa doesn’t speak to them. So, I just decided to come here.”

  Amir was thoroughly charmed. “Do you like it here?”

  “Of course! I was scared of Lily at first, but then I found out that she’s wonderful! I have so many new friends, and I’ve learned so much. Lily tells the best stories!”

  “What kind of stories?” Amir knew more than a few stories, himself.

  “All different kinds.”

  “Do they all end with a wedding?” he asked, jokingly.

  “Of course not; they’re all different.” Miranda informed him. After studying his face critically for a minute, she blurted out, “Do you know how to do anything?”

  “What do you mean?” The question was so unexpected that the prince did not know what to say.

  “Just that. Do you know how to sew? Or make mirrors? Or weave cloth?”

  “No. I’m a prince.”

  “What do princes know how to do?”

  “Run the government.”

  Miranda measured her new acquaintance with a serious look. “Lily was right. It’s no use having a prince underfoot.”

  It was a good thing for Amir that he was lying down, for otherwise, he would have fallen out of bed laughing. “Why is that?” he asked after he caught his breath.

  “Because you can’t do anything.”

  “What about you? What can you do?”

  “I’m learning everything! I can sew and knit and make lace and take care of sick people. Lily wants Master Helke to teach Mark and me how to work with precious stones, and the glassblower…”

  “But why bother?” Amir interrupted. “You’re the daughter of an important man in your kingdom.”

  Miranda looked down at him with an enormous sense of importance. “So what? Anything could happen tomorrow. You never know where you’ll end up. I know a story about that. Want me to tell it to you?”

  An hour later, Jaimie walked in to find Miranda curled up on Amir’s bed as she told him her favorite story. Amir was listening with great interest and showed no signs of being tired.

  “Get off the bed, child,” Jaimie scolded her.

  Miranda complied but voiced her offense. “You’re supposed to call me ‘My Lady,’ not ‘child.’”

  Amir smiled. “Do not be harsh with her. She is wonderful.”

  ***

  That same evening, Jaimie told Lilian about the newfound friendship between Amir and Miranda. The countess agreed that they should not let the two young people become to
o close. Soon, however, she discovered that she was too late. The girl wormed her way into the infirmary whenever she could, and Amir was always pleased to see her. Eventually, Pastor Vopler’s son, Mark, began joining them.

  After a few days, Lily gave up trying to keep the children away from Amir. Miranda began helping the nurse when she fed the prince and washed his chamber pot. Amir was shocked, but Lily reminded him that there was nothing reproachable about an earl’s daughter helping take care of a prince.

  “But My Lady, this morning she wanted to help the nurse wash me. She would have seen me…”

  Lily stopped herself from smiling. “You should look in the mirror, Prince.”

  Amir’s eyes lit up. “Speaking of these mirrors, I would like to know how your craftsmen make them.”

  The countess informed him that that was her trade secret. If he wanted to buy some mirrors to take home with him, he would have to speak with King Edward.

  “When can I meet your ruler?”

  Lily sighed. “I have been asked to pay a visit at court in the spring, once the roads are dry. And that is a problem, Amir, because I doubt that you’ll be strong enough by then for me to leave you.” After a brief moment, she decided to risk going further. “It would help if your father wrote to His Majesty and asked him to either postpone my visit for one year or allow you to accompany me. That way, I can continue to take care of you.”

  ***

  Amir considered the options. He suspected that his father would not object. Quite the opposite: he would be glad for his son to have a chance to see the world. Later on, when he was the ruler of the Khanganate, such travel would be frowned on.

  Amir was intrigued by the countess. He knew enough about Ativernan customs to know that she was breaking all sorts of rules. She had the remarkable ability to make new rules, while the people around her simply followed along as long as the new rules promised enjoyment or profit.

  ***

  Helke Leitz was intrigued by the countess, as well, but he feared she would work him to death. Once she was confident in her ability to produce glass lenses, she charged Helke with making the metal housing for a device he could barely conceive of. When it was finished, Lily called it a “telescope” and gave it to Leif as a present. The gruff Virman was delighted—the simple spyglass made it possible for him to see three times further than before.