Graiphen stared at Kiarana, looking for some sign of a lie. He saw none. Braetin planned to kill him or use him as the useless meat that offered themselves to her every day. She would bind him, and when his body was dry and he could no longer feel fear?
“I see from your expression,” she said, “that your life does matter to you. I thought as much.”
“I must not fail, then,” Graiphen said.
“You have already failed.”
“As long as Seba breathes, I have not failed.” With a quick bow, Graiphen turned and marched from the room, ignoring her voice calling after him. The candles and white marble were oppressive to him, and her laughter echoed as he raced through the temple.
He needed a plan. As he strode to his own home temple across the square, a thought occurred to him. He stopped just under the archway leading within. He stepped backward and stared up at the towering black spires above.
What he needed was a way to ensure Octavia did not gain too much influence with the emperor before it was too late. The only way to do that was to be by the emperor’s side. He had to become more than a supplicant. He turned to an acolyte. “You. I need a scribe to send messages to the heads of all the other temples.” He thought for a moment about excluding Pang, but he could not. It would only work if all eight agreed. The other seven would be no problem. Pang, well, he would see. “Never mind. Have the scribe sent to me. I will dictate each letter myself.”
The boy scurried away.
It was time to stop making polite requests. Even the emperor could not stand in the face of all eight temples united. The people of Talmor might tolerate his efforts to seem inclusive to immigrants, but they would not stand for him turning his back on the Spirits of Light and Shadow.
Chapter 10
Only two days had passed since Korbin and Octavia’s things were moved from the inn to the palace, so when Korbin tried to find his way around the winding corridors, he kept finding himself inadvertently in the wrong place. The previous evening, while searching for a path to the garden, he ended up in the kitchens.
That morning, however, the emperor had thoughtfully sent a steward to show Korbin the way to the requested audience. As the small man led him away, Korbin glanced down the wide stone corridor toward Octavia’s room. She’d been given an enormous chamber, bigger than the community hall where she’d been working in Vol. The room was in a corner of the building, so one bay of windows looked out over the gardens, and another down toward the city.
He wondered where she was. If he knew her, she wasn’t sleeping, despite the early hour. They’d hardly spoken since the emperor had asked him to stay, announcing that Octavia would be remaining at the palace and wanted Korbin nearby. He didn’t know exactly what was expected of him, except that the emperor indicated she should be taught how to speak to Dul, to guests, and most importantly, to the emperor himself. He could, of course, assign a protocol steward for the job, but he speculated that Octavia might take the advice better coming from a friend. What had changed her mind?
When Korbin had gone to her to try to broach the subject, however, she’d been working on a letter to the Sennestelle, and she seemed frustrated. When she added her current attempt to a crumpled pile of previous drafts, he left her alone to finish.
Now, following the steward to the third floor, Korbin made an effort not to gape at his surroundings. He’d been raised amongst the wealthy and with fine things, but nothing like this place. The long crimson rug that led from the stone stairwell down the corridor ahead was soft. His feet sank down with each step, and although his boots were newly cleaned, he worried about leaving marks.
The steward stopped in front of a worn wooden door. He rapped once, then entered, Korbin on his heels.
The emperor sat behind an old, heavy desk that was laden with scrolls, sheaves of paper, cold candles with long streaks of wax drips down the side, and an empty cup. He glanced up when the pair entered, and he motioned for Korbin to approach.
“I saw your father earlier this morning,” the emperor said without preamble.
Korbin bowed, but the emperor had turned his attention to some papers on his desk and didn’t appear to notice.
“I hope it went well,” Korbin said, wondering what the emperor wanted.
The emperor stopped and tilted his head as though thinking. “Yes and no. He’s offered his service to me. More to the point, the leadership of all eight temples have suggested it would be in the interests of the empire for me to have a ‘spiritual advisor’. They each endorsed the choice of the Ultim Qardone.”
Korbin waited as the emperor considered. The silence stretched, but he didn’t dare interrupt.
“When I first met you, I sensed you and your father are not close.” He gave Korbin a wry smile that showed he appreciated the understatement. “Is that fair to say?”
“Yes, your highness. As you probably know, he disowned me a few years ago.”
“Why? Had you done something to disgrace the family?”
“He certainly thought so.” Korbin hoped to not have to tell the story, but when the emperor simply waited, he had little choice but to expand on his statement. “I fell in love with a woman my father didn’t approve of. He used his influence to ruin her father. The man killed himself, and my lady friend left the city. Afterward, she insisted she didn’t wish to see me ever again.” Keeping his voice level and devoid of emotion required some effort.
“But that doesn’t explain why he would disown you. With the lady out of the picture, surely he’d gotten what he wanted.”
Korbin shrugged, hoping his anger didn’t show. This was one memory he didn’t care to have trotted out for discussion. If anyone but the emperor himself had asked, he would have refused to answer. “I despised him. Words were said. By both of us. Of course, the problems started years before. He was cruel to my mother and always found me disappointing. The breaking of my engagement was merely the final straw.”
“And you hate him still.”
“I don’t trust him, your highness. After he disowned me, I avoided him. I did so for years, until my friend Dul Eliam told me my father had been cursed and needed my help. If not for Seba’s attack on him, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to betray me yet again.”
“You believe your father to be untrustworthy? I’ve heard many things about Ultim Qardone Graiphen, stories dating back to when he was a young Dul Graiphen, but it seems to be fairly well accepted he’s a man of his word.”
“I would have said that once, too. His adherence to this principle was one of his redeeming qualities. I always knew where I stood with him, for good or for ill. But this situation with the temple of the Spirit of Shadow has changed him. His goddess demanded betrayal of him, and he complied without hesitation.”
The emperor looked thoughtful. He picked up a small knife and began reshaping the end of a quill. “You are aware, I’m sure, of the events that took place at Dramworthy Farm outside of Vol when several conduits were captured by the Red Manus.”
“Yes, your highness. I was there.”
The emperor dipped the quill in ink and made a couple of test marks on a scrap bit of parchment. “I hadn’t realized that.”
“Yes, your highness. Octavia and I had gone to Dramworthy to warn the other conduits to leave the city. The Red Manus had discovered their location and came to arrest us all. We got away. The others did not.”
“A dark day. I must say, I don’t approve of the Red Manus. It’s said they have tacit control over parts of Vol.”
“Since the Red Manus was blamed for the public executions of Duls Eliam and Tarsten, the brute squad has been forced to keep a lower profile. The leadership of the temple, from what I’ve heard, has encouraged my father to keep the role of the Red Manus more circumspect in recent months. But still, they are a presence.”
“I was under the impression your father was the leadership of the temple of Braetin, at least in Vol, and now, here in Durjin, by all appearances. He has a gift in rising th
rough the ranks, it appears.”
“Your highness, I’m not an expert. I can only tell you what I saw. The night Octavia performed the ritual to stop Seba, the other leaders of the temple had stripped my father of his title. When the Spirit of Shadow needed him to get to you, to reveal Seba for what he truly was, he was reinstated. It appears the Spirit can be fickle.”
“So, there are limits to his authority.”
“I would say so, yes. But those limits are determined only by the goddess.”
“Why does he want Seba back in Vol?”
“Senne Octavia can explain better, your highness, but she told me that the Spirit of Shadow was drawn to the power Seba wielded and wanted it for herself.”
“You believe that? You saw evidence with your own eyes that the Spirit of Shadow was alive?”
“I…” Had he? Had he seen it for himself? “I saw evidence of the power of the One. Seba attacked me twice without ever having been in the room. Octavia saved me both times. If she says she heard Braetin’s voice, I believe her.”
The emperor sighed. “Life was simpler when the Spirits were sleeping. If Braetin has truly awakened, how long before the others do too? But then, perhaps it would be good if the others did awaken. Braetin is the one I would least like to see with a sole hand guiding the souls of Talmor. At least in the old days, there was a balance.”
Korbin had no reply for this. It bordered on sacrilege to suggest the gods had been sleeping. The emperor might say what he liked, but Korbin had to tread carefully.
After a few moments of silence, the emperor continued. “The Ultim Qardone has offered me a show of good faith. This morning, I questioned him about the conduits killed at Dramworthy. He told me one still lives. He will send a messenger bird today instructing that she be released.”
Korbin felt the room sway. “One survived? Who?” He thought about the four women he’d met there. He remembered the kindly Pendra and the pinch-faced Lettoria, who’d been hateful to him and Octavia. Then there was the plump one and the quiet one. He felt guilty that he couldn’t recall their names. Was there one other? Or just those four?
“He didn’t give a name. Judging by the way he spoke of her, I’d be surprised if he knew it.”
Korbin’s mind reeled. He’d assumed Braetin wanted Seba because he was a conduit, and yet she’d had this conduit under her control all this time. Then what did she want with Seba? “Does Octavia know?”
“Not yet. Do you think she will insist on leaving when she finds out?”
“Perhaps.” Korbin knew she would. She had been wracked with guilt over the women’s capture and subsequent deaths.
The emperor nodded. “Say nothing to her for now.”
“Your highness?” Korbin couldn’t believe what he was hearing. How could the emperor demand this of him?
“I will accept Graiphen’s offer to act as my advisor. Given the way it was presented to me and the current mood in Talmor, my other advisors tell me I have little choice. You may have had your differences in the past, but he leads the strongest temple in the empire. I can’t afford to reject his overture outright.”
Korbin bowed with a clenched jaw. Graiphen was not to be trusted, and if he had the emperor’s ear, he and the Spirit of Shadow he served would be one step closer to controlling the heart of Talmor.
The emperor picked up a scroll and began to read. Korbin was dismissed. He took the polite two steps backward, then turned to go. As he reached the door, the emperor spoke again. “I mean it, Dul Korbin. Not a word to her.”
“Yes, your highness. I understand.”
Chapter 11
In the two days since Octavia agreed to write to the Sennestelle and ask for additional conduits to be sent to Vol, she’d written more than a dozen drafts of the letter and discarded them all. In the meantime, she’d had at least a cursory peek at most of the gardens and groves within the palace walls. The only ones she’d not been able to view were the imperial family’s private gardens. She couldn’t deny the beauty of what she had seen, but every leaf and flower were placed, cultivated, groomed. Despite the vibrant growth, it felt artificial.
Not one healing herb could be found anywhere, although there was a good supply of willow bark and juniper leaves. Not that she would be acting as a healer here. Still, she felt lost without her supplies. She’d only brought the barest of essentials for her own personal use. She would have to buy a few things from the local shops now that she was going to be staying for a short while, find some of the other conduits, and if it turned out she might stay longer than she hoped, send for some of her belongings from Vol. Despite having agreed to stay, she thought with longing of her small flat in the immigrant district, a place she felt safe.
In the afternoon, she walked from the palace gates down toward the heart of the city. She needed some space to think, and she didn’t feel comfortable in the palace. As she strode through the upper-class district, she considered. Upon reflection, she did believe she’d made the right decision. The emperor had sent her a message that morning saying he’d met with Graiphen, and informed her that Graiphen had agreed to release the remains of the conduits the temple had taken from Dramworthy Farm. That alone was worth her time and would go a long way to healing the community her friends had served.
Still, she didn’t quite understand why the emperor wanted her here. That message was the first communication since she met him two days ago. She supposed time would tell. His message had been bare and cryptic, and she had to confess to being disappointed that he’d written, or more likely having someone else write for him, rather than telling her about her friends face to face.
Was he simply too busy to see her? Did he think the matter unimportant? Or was there something more he wasn’t saying? She would have preferred to have heard the words from Graiphen himself, just for personal satisfaction. Part of her wanted to confront him about what he’d done, but when she imagined seeing him again, her stomach clutched.
Her Kilovian clothing drew stares as she made her way down the wide avenue surrounded on either side by tall city manors. Their edifices were carved from marble, with statues and symbols to the eight Talmoran Spirits of Light and Shadow featuring prominently in the chisel work.
Past the noble houses, she came to a merchants’ district. Clothing for high-born ladies and exotic rugs and furniture were displayed behind expensive glass panes. As she strolled through the area, she noticed that the fashions here in Durjin were even fussier and sillier than in Vol. Men and women wore shoes with high heels. Women’s hemlines bore dangling colored crystals that just glanced the ground.
In one window, Octavia saw an array of hats, some absurdly tall. She noticed nobody on the streets wearing hats, so she wondered for what occasions these ludicrous things would be appropriate. If she hadn’t witnessed two groups of women going in the shop, then coming out again with packages, she might have suspected that there was no proper occasion for the headwear.
“You might try hiding your disdain a bit more.”
Octavia jumped at the familiar voice and whirled around. “Korbin! You startled me. Where did you come from?”
He stood a step behind her and to the side, leaning against a support arch on the covered walkway. His mouth quirked up in a grin. “Sorry. You were lost in thought, there. I saw you leaving the palace and fancied a walk myself. I hope you don’t mind?”
“Are you going to lecture me about how I speak to the emperor?”
“When have I ever lectured you?”
A fair point. He was always friendly, while at the same time deferential and respectful. She liked that he never made any demands and treated her as she’d seen him treat the noble men in his circle.
“You haven’t, and no, I don’t mind. I just needed to get away from the palace. It’s too much.” She had difficulty understanding why drafting a simple request of the Sennestelle seemed so impossible for her at the moment. She couldn’t bear staring at the pile of rejected scribbles anymore.
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��Still having nightmares?” He kept his tone low.
Something inside her tensed. She’d hoped he hadn’t heard her crying out after that night on the journey when he’d pounded down her door. “Sometimes.” Her face warmed, and she made an effort to breathe as she turned away, praying he wouldn’t notice. This was the last thing she wanted to think or talk about.
They started to walk together and soon left the merchant district behind. They made their way through another residential area, this one not quite as ostentatious as the one closer to the palace, but wealthy nonetheless.
After a while in companionable silence, Korbin said, “The emperor asked me to help you learn a few things to make you more comfortable with palace life.”
“I don’t plan to stay long. He offered help for my people, help I couldn’t in good conscience turn down. He even convinced the temple to release the remains of my sister conduits. I can’t tell you how much that means.” She’d very nearly said your father, but she didn’t like reminding him of the relationship more than necessary. Korbin was a man who took things to heart, often blaming himself.
Korbin eyed her strangely. “That’s good. Did he say anything else?”
“No. Why? Do you know something?” She stopped and touched his arm, her instincts quivering. “What is going on?”
Korbin glanced down the road that wound toward the hotel where they’d stayed when they first arrived. A moment passed before he met her gaze. “Nothing.”
He started to move away, but she gripped his sleeve. “Korbin, I wanted you stay here too because I trust you. I need that now. How can I rely on you if you lie to me?”
Born Of Fire And Darkness (Book 2) Page 9
