The thing which Opseth had brushed past in that instant, however, intrigued her. It carried weight and yet it was as though both its shape and color refused definition. She would remain open to this thing, this unknown, whenever she made contact. Perhaps it would reveal itself unintentionally.
Opseth rose from the chair and stretched. She blew out the candle and left the room, returning to her spouse in their bed. He rolled over and mumbled something, barely aware from his sleep, and she answered, touching his cheek, soothing his mind and then settling in herself. Now that she’d begun taking action, she would sleep well.
CHAPTER TEN
THE EMPIR HAS PASSED
The Empir’s barge made Avaret in the deep of night and docked at the royal quay, and Nalin rose reluctantly from his vigil at Flandari’s side. He’d worked all day anticipating the hordes of questions likely to surface from the tragedy of the Empir’s death. He had rehearsed his answers to those questions he knew he couldn’t avoid, but this role destiny had decreed for him chafed. Flandari should still be alive and able to declare her new Heir now herself. He’d have no difficulty covering his lies with the heaviness of his grief, but he couldn’t help but wish that the end of yesterday hadn’t also defined the end of the Empir’s life.
He heard footsteps approaching. He patted the hand of his mentor, and, leaning down, he whispered into her ear, “I will see this through, my Liege.” He straightened his tunic, smoothed his long hair back from his face and waited for the knock on the Empir’s cabin door.
“Enter,” he said when it came, and both guards stepped in.
“We’ve arrived, my lord,” the female sergeant said. “The ship’s captain has requested a hearse be brought to the ship. What are your orders?”
“Prepare my horse. I’m riding ahead to the Keep.”
The male sergeant saluted, right fist to left chest, and departed.
“And you can follow with the body,” Nalin continued to the woman. She saluted and also left, and Hermit Eloise stepped in to replace her.
“My lord?” she said.
“Yes?” Nalin replied.
“Forgive me, my lord,” the sooth said with a nod, “but this is where you and I must part.”
“I expected as much.”
She nodded, started to turn, but then paused. “My lord?”
“Yes?”
“It couldn’t be helped.”
Nalin had always considered himself a reasonable man, but none of what had occurred in the last twenty-four hours was in any way reasonable. And now, this hermit, who had set these unreasonable events into motion, said, “It couldn’t be helped”? But Nalin, the reasonable man, said only, “May One Be, Hermit Eloise.”
“One Is, Holder Corday,” the hermit said and departed.
Nalin turned for one last look at his Empir, all the if-only thoughts of an irretrievable moment nearly overwhelming him. Then, he threw on his cloak against the night air and left the cabin and the ship for the dock where his horse waited. There, he mounted the steed to complete the most difficult journey of his life.
The cobblestone streets echoed with the clip-clop-clip-clop of the horse’s trot as Nalin rode from the dock and up the hill to the circular, marble-paved Emperi Plaza which stood between the old palace and Avaret Keep. He headed for the old palace where he dismounted, handing the horse off to the guard there. He climbed the wooden stairs to his second-floor lodgings where he found his servant, Benir, sleeping on the couch in the anteroom. Benir jumped up, fumbling to wakefulness, as soon as he realized his master had returned.
“My lord,” the servant said.
Nalin reached into his beltpouch and pulled out the two letters he’d written on the voyage home. “See that these are delivered,” he ordered, handing the letters to Benir. “This one is for Heir Tuane’s father in Seffa, and the other is for my mother. There’s a fresh horse with the guard downstairs. Ride swiftly.”
“You want me to leave tonight, my lord?” Benir rubbed his eyes.
“Yes. It’s urgent.” Nalin pulled off his cloak and offered it to the servant. “Take this. Ride until you reach Seffa. You can rest there.”
“But, my lord…,” the man said, confused.
“I’m sorry, Benir, but I can’t explain now. Holder Tuane will explain once he’s read his letter. Now, go.”
Benir nodded and nearly stumbled out the door. Nalin closed it behind him, then dropped to the couch and took several deep breaths. Now he must lie and make it seem real, and he was a lousy liar. He rose again and pulled his sword off. It wouldn’t do to enter the Keep armed. Then he headed out and back down the stairs, across the plaza, past its fountain gurgling in the night, and up the grand stairway to the Keep’s main entrance.
More than keep, this palace of Empirs served as the center of government. The edifice rose, supported by sturdy marble columns, to a total of three floors, the basement partly submerged beneath ground level. It could intimidate newcomers, but to Nalin, it was simply a building—a magnificent building—but still only walls encompassing rooms. It was the boy inside who worried Nalin. So, on reaching the top of the outer stairs, Nalin straightened his tunic and prepared for the onslaught of Heir Ariel’s pseudo-grief.
“Hold!” one of the two guards at the door ordered, barring Nalin’s way.
“I have urgent business with Heir-Empir Ariel,” Nalin explained.
“The Heir gave orders he was not to be disturbed tonight,” the guard replied
“Life-altering urgent business, Lieutenant. At Empir Flandari’s bequest. It’s imperative I speak with him immediately.” Nalin had prepared for this denial of access. It proved what he had suspected all along—that Ariel already knew he was Empir.
“Dargo,” the lieutenant said to the other guard, “escort the holder to the hall and then inform the Heir of his arrival.”
“Aye, Lieutenant.”
Nalin followed the sergeant through the massive wooden doors into the palace and then into the grand hall where one torch provided little light. She left him there, mumbling something about sending the Heir directly. Nalin began to pace, the quaking of his world in the last two days bearing down on him with the force of a tidal wave he could not escape. His footsteps on the stone floor echoed throughout the huge, empty room, the ceiling of which rose up two full floors. The last time he’d been in this room had been last session’s closing Council dinner. He’d sat at the high table with Flandari, and it had been an occasion of joy and celebration. Nalin closed his mind to these memories of a happier time. The Empir has passed. Long life to the Empir!
“Nalin!”
He looked up to see Ariel standing on the balcony-like walkway of the second floor.
“My lord,” Nalin replied, momentarily distracted by the dusting of red beard which had finally appeared on Ariel’s chin.
“I left orders not to be disturbed, Nalin. This had better be good.”
“Yes, my lord,” a female voice oozed from the dark.
Lorain, Nalin thought. She stepped into the light. Ariel had grown bold in his mother’s absence.
“My lord,” Nalin said, his flesh crawling under the onslaught of Lorain’s cold gaze, “this is a private matter, better discussed less publically. Perhaps in the Empir’s office?”
“You can speak in front of Lorain, Nalin,” Ariel said.
“It’s not the holder of Bedel who concerns me, my lord. It’s all the others who can hear us shouting back and forth. The Empir’s office? Please?”
Ariel’s sigh echoed through the hall. “All right. I’ll be right down. Meet us there.”
“My lord,” Nalin replied with a nod and waited until Ariel and Lorain had slipped back into the shadows before he left the hall and headed for Flandari’s office. A guard posted at the door barred his entrance.
“The Heir-Empir asked me to meet him here,” Nalin said.
“Aye, my lord.” The sergeant opened the door and motioned Nalin in. “But I must escort you.”
&nb
sp; “Once Heir Ariel has arrived, go awaken your commander. I believe her presence will be required.”
“My lord?” the guard asked as they moved into the room.
“No questions, Sergeant. Just do it.”
“Aye, my lord.”
Nalin stepped to the chairs before the desk and wondered from which direction Ariel would arrive. Did he know about the secret passageways? Flandari had shown Nalin all the tunnels and stairways concealed within the walls of the Keep and had assured him that only she and Commander Tanres knew they existed. Nalin had thought it naïve of Flandari to believe that a bright, inquisitive child, such as Ariel, would not have eventually discovered one of the entries and solved the entire puzzle given enough time. Nalin decided to keep that in mind when the time came for planning the true Heir’s challenge.
“Nalin.”
He turned to see Ariel, followed by Lorain, stride into the room through the same door he himself had used a moment before. They both wore robes. Clearly Nalin had interrupted something. Everyone knew that Lorain had begun baiting her trap years ago, doting on the young Heir-Empir, but until now their dalliance had maintained some semblance of secrecy. Yet more proof of Ariel’s involvement in his mother’s death. He would have never dared invite Lorain here overnight if he’d feared discovery by his mother. He knew. Long life to the Empir.
“Shall we sit, my lord?” Nalin suggested, gesturing toward the great, round, wooden conference table to his right, and as he did so, the sergeant left as Nalin had requested.
“I don’t think so, Nalin,” Ariel replied.
“As you wish, my lord.” Nalin took a deep breath. Despite whatever Ariel already knew, Nalin must still deliver the news as though he expected surprise in response. Yet, putting words to the tragedy of Flandari’s death would confirm it, and Nalin wished he could end this charade and walk away without a word.
“You’re trying my patience, Nalin,” Ariel said. “Talk.”
“My lord,” Nalin finally began, “I regret to inform you that your mother is dead, murdered. It happened last night when we docked at the Isle of Solsta. Her servant stabbed her with a poisoned dagger and then swallowed the remaining poison herself. She, too, is dead.”
“My mother? Murdered?” Ariel lowered himself slowly into the nearest chair. Lorain stepped around to stand beside him, a comforting hand upon his shoulder. “Where is she?” He’d even managed tears, and Nalin marveled. Where are my tears?
“Her body should arrive from the dock shortly, my lord. I rode on ahead to notify you.”
“Of course,” Ariel managed.
What a magnificent performance, Nalin thought, then said the only thing that he could bring himself to say. “I am sorry for your loss.”
“Nalin,” Lorain said, her brown hair cascading down around her shoulders in rich curls, “the Heir…er, the Empir will require a full report from you and all other witnesses.”
“That’s my plan, Lorain, but I couldn’t write while sitting vigil at the Empir’s side on the voyage home, now, could I?”
“No, of course not,” Lorain replied, tossing a lock of that luxurious mane back over her shoulder.
“I’ll start working on it tonight,” Nalin offered and thought, I won’t be able to sleep anyway. “And you’ll have that list of witnesses by morning.”
“I’ll look forward to the list and the report,” Ariel said, his tears now dried, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, and not for a report he’d only skim at most.
At that moment, the door from the hall opened, and Commander Tanres strode in. Kerok Tanres had come to the rank of commander early, in her mid-thirties, only recently elevated from captain by Flandari. This had produced grumbling amongst the older guards who felt they possessed more experience, but Flandari had stood firm.
The commander halted immediately inside the door, in full uniform, a study in the composure that only absolute discipline can bestow, and she nodded first to Ariel and then more subtly to Nalin and Lorain. “I was summoned, my lord,” she said, her eyes focused on Ariel.
“Strange,” Ariel commented and turned to Nalin. “I didn’t summon you.”
“I did, my…Liege,” Nalin said. “The commander has duties to assign.”
“Yes, well, I suppose.” Ariel clearly did not appreciate Nalin anticipating an Empir’s need and acting on it. “Commander, my mother is dead. According to Holder Corday, she was murdered by a servant yesterday on the Isle. I want an investigation begun immediately. You can start with the holder here.”
“My lord,” Nalin protested. “I promised you a report in the morning.”
“Not soon enough, Nalin,” Ariel said, looking up from his chair, all pretense of grief forsaken. And why not? The entire court knew the Empir and her son shared nothing resembling love. “We must see that everyone involved is identified and apprehended as soon as possible. In the time it took you to return from the Isle, any potential conspirators may have already vanished.”
“The assailant is dead, my Liege,” Nalin assured him, “and if ‘any potential conspirators’ were going to vanish, they would have done so before the assassination.”
“My Liege,” the commander said, “I promise you that the facts of this crime will be fully explored, but I suggest that tonight we tighten security here in the Keep and assign guards to the late Empir’s vigil.”
“Do you question me, Commander? I’m your Empir now, you know.”
Nalin cringed at Ariel’s tone and prayed to the Creators that his sister would prove capable of unseating her brother.
“Yes, my Liege. I’ll speak with the holder tonight, and I will see to the preparations for the vigil.”
“That’s better,” Ariel oozed, and Nalin wished he were a less civilized man, for without constraints, he would hurt the boy.
“If I may use the head clerk’s office, my Liege?” the commander requested.
“Use whatever you want, Commander. Just leave us.”
Tanres saluted, fist to chest. “As you command, my Liege,” she said. “Holder, if you please…”
And Nalin followed her out the door and into the hall.
“Lieutenant, awaken the entire Keep contingent. Now,” the commander ordered the guard on duty at the door. “Have them in the assembly room in fifteen minutes where I’ll address them shortly. But first, find six guards who are already on duty and have them report to the main entry immediately.”
“To do what, Commander?” the guard asked.
Tanres clapped the lieutenant’s shoulder. “They’ll know when they get there. Just see to it.”
“Aye, Commander.” And with a salute, the lieutenant left to carry out his orders.
“Holder, this way, if you please.”
Nalin nodded and followed the commander to Jazel Iscador’s office to their left. They stepped into the small, immaculately organized room, and Tanres closed the door behind her, checked the second door leading to the Empir’s office to assure herself it was securely latched, and then planted herself before that door, arms crossed over her chest.
“My lord, it’s not my intention to burden you further tonight. Simply tell me, in brief, what you know, and I’ll await the details in your report.”
Nalin considered what he knew and debated how far he could take this woman into his confidence. In the end, he chose caution. Let her seek out the one who’d pushed on Ariel’s behalf. That would suffice for now. The existence of a second Heir and what that meant for Garla was not her concern, at least not yet.
So he told her. He told her of their arrival at Solsta after a day on the sea, of the preparations for the ascent to the haven, of the shout of “assassin” from the Empir and of Captain Rosarel’s race up the mountain in vain. Then he told her of the necropath’s revelation, of what she’d sensed in the dying servant.
“Pushed?” the commander asked. “This necropath said the woman was pushed?”
“Yes, that’s what she said. And then pushed again to kill herself befo
re she could be questioned.”
“Pushed by whom? And why?” Tanres asked.
“Commander, although many might benefit from Flandari’s death, you and I both know that only one person stands to gain everything he’s wanted his entire life.”
“Aye, but it would’ve been his eventually in any case. Why now?”
“Impatience?”
The commander nodded. “Thank you for your candor, my lord. Choose carefully what you write in your report, for the Heir will read it. And whatever you may unintentionally leave out will remain between us.”
“Thank you, Commander.”
“I imagine Captain Rosarel can shed further light on all of this. He’s on his way with the body?”
“Uh, no, Commander,” Nalin replied. And now for more half-truths. “The captain is with the necropath. He and Heir Tuane left Solsta with her, heading out via the ferry and into Bedel.”
“Ah, of course. To protect her. We may eventually need her for confirmation, but Korin will keep her safe in the meantime.”
“That was my hope when I entrusted her to him.”
“Right, then. My lord, thank you. That’s all I need for now. We’ll speak again in a day or two. In the meantime, get some rest. You look as though you haven’t slept in days.”
Nalin smiled at that. “I haven’t.”
“Then go. I’ll handle our new Empir for now.”
“Thank you, Commander,” Nalin said and started to let himself out the door to the hall, but he halted, remembering. “Commander?”
Fractured (Lisen of Solsta Book 1) Page 12
