Jemeryl picked it up and opened it flat, revealing a handwritten note.
My darling,
I love you so dearly, and it fills my soul with joy to know you feel the same about me. This current time is a trial to us both. It pains me that we can only have snatched moments together, but soon she will be gone. Hold true to our love. Once Tirakhalod is free of her detested presence then nothing will stand in the way of our happiness.
Your loving
Yenneg
“Who do you think he’s writing to?” Jemeryl asked.
“I’ve no idea. His current lover is one of the peasants from the nearest village. It can’t be him. There’s nothing keeping them apart, and the lad can’t read anyway.” Tevi paused, thinking. “Of course, we don’t know how old this note is. It could be someone he was involved with years ago. And there have been enough of them.”
“Except he says soon she will be gone. Bykoda’s still here.”
“Maybe he was being overoptimistic.”
“Or maybe the peasant is a ruse to cover an affair with one of the other acolytes. He does sound certain that Bykoda is about to make a permanent exit.”
Tevi shook her head in bemusement. “First Ranenok and Kharel, and now you think Yenneg and one of the others.”
Klara was perched on the back of the seat. “Who’d have guessed that Tirakhalod was such a haven for star-crossed lovers? Maybe it’s something in the water.”
Jemeryl looked thoughtful. Klara’s words had clearly sparked a memory. “It might indeed be something in the water. Remember Dunarth was making that love potion. If you want an ally for an attack on Bykoda, what better way to get unquestioning support?”
Tevi slipped down in her seat, staring at the paper. Everything they learnt only made the problem more complex. Even if this note was part of the plot to kill Bykoda, it still left one big question. “But which one’s the victim, and which one’s the assassin?”
“Yes. Now that’s what we need to find out.”
*
One of the lieutenants met Jemeryl just inside the entrance of Anid’s quarters. “Can I help you, ma’am?”
“I’d like to see the commander.”
The statement was not strictly true. Jemeryl needed to talk to the woman. Like did not come into it. Anid had returned to Tirakhalod in advance of Bykoda’s next council meeting, scheduled for two days’ time, and regardless of how much Jemeryl might dislike her, it would be foolish not to get the most up-to-date information concerning travel to the south of Tirakhalod.
“I’ll see if she is available.”
The lieutenant reappeared a few seconds later. “The commander can see you now.”
The room that Jemeryl was shown into was small and comfortably furnished. Firelight and wood panelling made it feel welcoming, even though the decoration was mainly of weaponry and hunting trophies. Crossed swords were the dominant motif. Anid was relaxing in a chair by the fire. The remains of a light lunch were scattered across a table in one corner, and a wineglass was in her hand. She gestured with it as Jemeryl took a seat.
“Would you like some?”
“No, thank you.”
Anid waited until the lieutenant had gone before continuing. “What can I do for you?”
“I was hoping that you could give me current information about the state of the passes over the Barrodens.”
“Which pass do you intend to take?”
“I haven’t made my mind up yet.” And even if she had, Jemeryl would not have said.
Only two passes crossed the Barroden mountain chain, one at Horzt in the east and one above Denbury in the west. If Anid was the assassin and after the talisman, why make her job easier by letting her know the route in advance?
Anid pursed her lips. “The pass at Horzt will be first to open. I left Uzhenek four days ago. We’d had no news about it then, but it won’t be closed for much longer. It might even be open now. Spring looks to be coming early. Seeing that it will take you at least twelve days to get there, you could set off tomorrow. If you want to go via Denbury, it might pay to wait a little while longer.”
“How is travel on the plain?”
“Snow’s all gone. The roads are a bit mushy underfoot, and the rivers are swollen with the runoff, but they should be fordable. Avoid the lower reaches of the Rzetoka River, and make sure you’ve got rope with you, just in case.”
“Is there anything else I need to know?”
“No trouble that I know of.”
“Then I won’t take any more of your time.” Jemeryl made to stand, but Anid waved her back.
“You’re definitely returning to the Protectorate?”
“Yes.”
“What does Bykoda think about that?”
Jemeryl frowned. “How do you mean?”
Anid treated her to a long, searching stare. “Just an odd idea I have. Ever since you’ve been here, I’ve been wondering why Bykoda invited you. She’s never allowed a halfway decent sorcerer to get within blasting distance of her before. And then she starts teaching you all her tricks. And the more it goes on, the more I’ve been asking myself, Why?”
“And what conclusion have you reached?” Jemeryl said, more as a challenge than a question. She had no patience for the acolytes’ petty political intrigue.
“Maybe she’s grooming you to take over.”
Jemeryl shook her head. “You’re way off target.”
“So why do you think she’s been doing it?”
“You’ll have to ask her.”
Anid laughed without rancour. “You don’t like me, do you?”
“No.” Jemeryl had no reason to be sparing with the truth.
“Because I wanted to buy your little sweetheart?”
“Is there any point to this?”
“Yes. There is.” Anid met her eyes steadily. Suddenly the taunting façade was gone, replaced by something that seemed far more sincere. “I’ve got some advice for you. I’m not bothered over how you feel about me. I couldn’t survive in Tirakhalod if I let those sort of things get to me. But you”—she pointed at Jemeryl—“aren’t that ruthless. If Bykoda offers to make you her successor, turn her down. You’ll never make it.”
“And are you hoping that she’ll nominate you instead?”
“Me? No. I’m not up to it. I’m a decidedly third-rate sorcerer. If I was in your Coven, I’d be at the level of third assistant dishwasher in Lyremouth. It’s only because I’m no threat to her that I get to be in charge of half the Empire. Believe it or not, what I just gave you was honest, friendly advice, and that’s a very rare thing to find around here.”
Jemeryl wondered if the commander was drunk, although there
was no trace of slurring in her voice. “So why the spirit of generosity?”
“Because I’m in a generous mood, and despite what you might think, I’m not a callous bitch.” Anid swirled the wine in her glass. “You and your ungifted captain, you love each other?”
“Yes.”
“Then run back to the Protectorate and live happily ever after, because you won’t do it here. Your heart makes you way, way too vulnerable.” Anid paused. “Did you know that I had a couple of kids?”
“No.”
“Two sons. Both totally ungifted. I got them a place in the army. Yenneg’s predecessor arranged for an accident to happen to them.” Anid’s eyes were fixed on her glass, as if hypnotised. Her voice was softer than Jemeryl had heard it before. “And Bykoda’s children didn’t do much better. Although she got the satisfaction of dealing in person with the bastard who killed them. Your captain is the only ungifted officer who’s ever lasted more than a year in the army. And that’s simply because no one hates you enough to get at you through her.”
“It’s...I...that’s awful.” Jemeryl struggled for words. She gazed in sympathy at the army commander, for the first time considering the personal cost of living within the ruthless power games of Tirakhalod. The Coven had its internal conflicts, but there were rules. There was justi
ce. There was security. In Bykoda’s Empire, the higher you got, the more precarious your position. What would life be like when love was only a weapon that could be used against you?
“Yeah, well. It was my own fault. I knew my sons were in danger. When they were babies, I thought about taking them somewhere safe. I even thought about joining the Protectorate. But I didn’t fancy washing dishes. I thought I could protect them. I was wrong.” Anid’s voice dropped. “And that’s the risk you take in Tirakhalod when you love someone ungifted.”
“I’m sorry.”
Anid shrugged and tossed back the contents of her glass. “It was a good few years ago. I don’t think about them now...more than once or twice a day. Mostly, I try not to love anyone. And if I can’t stop myself, I make sure that nobody else knows about it. It’s safer when you’re caught up in the sort of games Bykoda plays. Yenneg’s predecessor, the bitch who had my sons killed, she didn’t really have any cause to hate me. It was just Bykoda messing with her head. That didn’t stop me from getting her in the end, though.”
“What did you do?”
“You don’t want to know.” Anid got up and collected the wine bottle from the corner table. While she poured a refill, Jemeryl watched her. She had the feeling that the army commander was using the diversion to clamp down on her emotions. The moment for heartfelt revelations was past.
Back in her seat again, Anid picked up her glass. “Anyway, Yenneg has taken over now, and he’s a fool. He’s going to do something really stupid.”
“In what way?”
“He’s too new at the game. Ranenok and me, we can’t stand each other, but we know it’s not real. We’re not on different sides. We go through the ritual of swapping insults, but we make sure we keep a grip on our common sense. If ever I’m tempted to do something serious, I step back, count to ten, and let it drop. But Yenneg...he’s going to do something nasty before he realises that he’s being strung along by Bykoda.”
“Ranenok feel the same as you?”
“I’m sure of it. He’s on to Bykoda’s tricks. He and his partner never had children. They knew the chances of them being gifted were no higher than for the peasants in the village, so they took precautions. But when his partner died, you could see the fire go out of his eyes.” Anid gave a snort of amusement. “Mind you, there’s a bit of a sparkle back these days. I think he’s having an affair.”
“Any idea who with?” Jemeryl kept her tone innocent.
“I guess it has to be Kharel or Mavek.”
“Not Dunarth?”
Anid laughed. “Haven’t you spotted that Dunarth is a little bit odd?” She tapped the side of her head. “There’s some connections missing up here.”
“I’ve not noticed.”
“You must have. She understands her plants and potions. But she hasn’t got a clue about other people. She doesn’t realise that the things she says and does will have an effect on others. Probably because other people have no effect on her.”
“She was telling me about the advantage of trading favours.”
“Oh, she’s learnt about manipulating people, but it’s just an exercise in logic for her. She doesn’t understand why some things work. She can’t put herself in other people’s shoes. And if there’s nothing she wants from you, she’ll ignore you. She doesn’t have friends, and she certainly doesn’t have lovers. No, it’s got to be Kharel or Mavek that Ranenok’s playing with.”
“Who do you favour?”
“Fire or ice? It’s a hard call. Kharel acts the cold fish. I’m sure there’s life underneath the frost, but would she let her guard down? Plus, I’ve always suspected that she has a bit of a thing going for Bykoda, which I’m sure isn’t reciprocated. I wouldn’t put it past Bykoda to have had a hand in sowing the seed with a spell or two.” Anid took a sip of wine. “And on the other hand, there’s Mavek. But I didn’t think he was looking for anyone new. He’s been burned in the past, but he won’t let the flames go out. He’s been fanning the embers all these years. You need to know how to let go of the pain.”
“Maybe he’s finally moved on.”
“I’m not sure. Mavek’s the same as you. He wears his heart on his sleeve. If he had an affair going, he couldn’t keep it hidden.”
“Ranenok might have something going with one of his officers.”
“In which case why not let everyone know? I never keep my affairs secret. But I never let anyone think it’s serious.” Anid’s eyes fixed back on Jemeryl. “But you have. You’ve made it obvious to everyone how they can get a handle on you. Take my advice. Get back to the Protectorate as soon as possible. It’s the only place you’ll be safe.”
Chapter Six—The Rune Sword
Tevi lay sprawled on the couch grimacing at the open book. Dravin’s cavalry thesis was starting to make some sort of sense to her, but it was not easy going. She had worked out that by carte he meant chariot, and thought she understood the point he was making in the section that she was on, although she was sceptical about the example given. Was she reading it right?
Tevi took a few more seconds, clicking her thumbnail across her bottom teeth, and then raised her head. “Jem. Do magic spells bounce off mirrors?”
Jemeryl was sitting at the table. She put her pen down. “Depends on what it is. Some do. Most don’t. Why?”
“It’s this bit in the book. Dravin is going on about the stability of a four-wheeled chariot and tells the story of an ungifted warrior who had a mirror shield. He charged up in his chariot, and when a witch lobbed a spell at him, he was steady enough to reflect it back and kill her. At least, I think that’s the story.”
“It’s possible with the right sort of spell.”
“Or the wrong sort, if you’re looking at it from the witch’s point of view,” Klara added.
“But not most spells?”
“No.”
“I wonder if I’m reading it right.”
“What does it say?”
“Widen hes mirer sheelde.”
Jemeryl left the table and perched on the arm of the couch by Tevi’s head. She leant over to study the page and then pointed to a word. “Mirer. It can mean mirror, but the root of the word means to look at or to admire. I suspect what Dravin means is an admirable shield.”
“It’s just some sort of enchanted shield?”
“That’s my guess.”
Tevi nodded. “It would take a spectacularly stupid witch to see someone coming at her with a mirror shield and still pick a reflectable spell.”
“Er...I’d have, er...yes.” Jemeryl sounded distracted.
Tevi shifted around on the couch, and twisted her neck to look up at her lover’s face. Jemeryl was staring at the windows. However, it was night and nothing could be seen outside. Suddenly, Jemeryl’s expression changed from preoccupied to excited.
“Have you thought of something?” Tevi asked.
“Yes. Look.” Jemeryl pointed at her reflection in the window.
“What is—” Tevi did not get the chance to complete her question.
“I’ll bet anything that it will work. Come on.”
Jemeryl grabbed Tevi’s hand and dragged her from the room. They left the tower, rounded the outer edge of the bailey, went under the arch into the courtyard of the keep, and finally ending up in the council chamber.
The room looked exactly the same as the last time that Tevi had seen it. The thralls in the corners might even have been the same individuals—if individual was a word that could properly be ascribed to thralls.
Jemeryl trotted over to the acolytes’ iron chairs and faced the side wall. Tevi stood by the door and watched her indulgently. She did not know where it was all leading, but she was happy to go along with Jemeryl’s enthusiasm.
“Right, let’s see then.” Jemeryl bobbed her head from side to side, then took a step backwards and repeated the action. She ducked briefly to a half crouch, followed by three paces forwards. Then, to finish, she took a long step to the side and three vertical jumps.<
br />
“If this is a new dance, I hope you’re not expecting me to remember the steps,” Tevi said.
Jemeryl glanced back. Judging from her expression, she had lost on the bet with herself about whatever it was working. She waved her hand in the general direction of the wall. “It was the windows.”
“What about them?”
“The reflection. As I said, most spells won’t bounce off mirrors. But some do. And unlike the stupid witch, the assassin would want to pick a reflecting spell.”
“You thought they could bounce a spell around the edge of the crystal shield?”
“That’s what I hoped.”
“And it won’t work.”
“See for yourself.”
Tevi went to Jemeryl’s side. It was night, and nothing could be seen in the windows except the reflections. The problem with Jemeryl’s idea was immediately apparent. The bottom of the windows was at head height, and from the acolyte’s chairs, only the image of the upper walls and ceiling floated darkly in the glass.
“The windows are too high.” Jemeryl stated the obvious. “I can’t even see the canopy over her throne.”
Tevi stood on her toes. “I can just about see the top of it. But I’m a few inches taller than you.”
“Mavek is the tallest of the acolytes,” Jemeryl said thoughtfully.
“Easily. He’s at least nine inches taller than me.”
“So what could he see?”
Tevi looked at her, amused. “I don’t know. I’m not tall enough.”
“Jump.”
“That’s hardly going to be accurate. Why don’t you try standing on a chair?”
Jemeryl’s eyebrows drew together in a pantomime of a hard-done-by frown, but then she clambered onto a chair. “No good. I’m too high.”
“Crouch down.”
“Is this right?”
Tevi stood beside her, judging the eye height. “Up a bit...there. I think you’re about right now. What can you see?”
“The very top of the back of the throne.” Jemeryl shook her head. “It won’t work. Bykoda is too short. She’d have to be standing up, with a tall hat on, and he might just be able to set fire to the pom-pom on the tip.”
The Empress and the Acolyte Page 11
