The Empress and the Acolyte

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The Empress and the Acolyte Page 13

by Jane Fletcher


  “You will be leaving soon.”

  “In ten days or so.”

  “If you give a list of your requirements to my clerk, I will see that they are ready. I will tell him to treat them as a priority.”

  “Thank you.”

  “It is what Bykoda would want.”

  “She has been very generous.” Jemeryl wondered how to turn the conversation to Ranenok. Kharel was offering no openings to exploit.

  “You have benefited from your time here.”

  “Oh yes. We both have. I know that Tevi has found her experience serving under Ranenok most instructive.”

  Kharel avoided the bait. “I’m pleased for you.”

  “And equally, he asserts that Tevi has been of great use to him.”

  “I’m sure.” Kharel sounded completely disinterested.

  The two of them strolled on farther.

  “Do you know how he lost his arm?”

  “I believe it was an encounter with werewolves nearly a decade ago.”

  Jemeryl needed to work at concealing her frustration. Was Kharel deliberately avoiding her lover’s name? “When I get back to Lyremouth, if we get the replacement limbs to work, perhaps he might be interested.”

  “That is something for you to discuss with Rane—”

  At last. The instant that Kharel started to say the name, Jemeryl crushed the resin case of the tincture between her fingers. The liquid soaked into the prepared parchment wrapped around it.

  “—nok.”

  “Maybe I will, next time I see him.”

  Jemeryl gave a smile to terminate the conversation and turned away onto another side path that took her back to the lily pond. Soon Kharel was out of sight. Jemeryl extracted the damp parchment from her pocket and held it in the sun to dry. The test was a well-known standard. If Kharel was the victim of a love potion given to her by Ranenok, the prognostic wrapping would turn red. If she was the one who had administered the potion to him, it would turn blue.

  The minutes passed while the darker tinge caused by dampness faded. The parchment stayed obstinately white. Jemeryl looked at it thoughtfully. It was an answer of sorts. Neither Kharel nor Ranenok had used a potion on the other. Their affair was genuine on both sides.

  Jemeryl stared vacantly at the lily pond while she tried to unscramble her thoughts. Yenneg’s note might have nothing to do with the love potion and even less to do with Bykoda’s assassination. But if it did? Jemeryl frowned. The trouble lay in finding a suitable candidate among the other acolytes.

  Mavek felt like the best bet in the role of victim. Jemeryl wanted to trust Anid, although she knew that she should not, and it was interesting to speculate on the idea that Anid might be using the potion to ensnare a hated rival. Ranenok and Kharel would not be carrying on their affair if either were magically enamoured of somebody else, although invoking unrequited love in Yenneg might have political uses. Dunarth was too eccentric to make any judgement about.

  The sound of footsteps interrupted Jemeryl’s musing. She hastily thrust the strip of parchment back in her pocket in case it was Kharel returning. However, when Jemeryl looked up, she saw Bykoda ambling alone through the gardens.

  The Empress smiled and raised her hand, beckoning. Clearly she wished to talk. Once they were standing side by side, Bykoda slipped her arm through Jemeryl’s. “I trust you won’t mind giving a little support to an old woman for a turn around the garden.”

  The linked arms surprised Jemeryl, not so much for the familiarity as for the way it drew attention to how frail the elderly woman was. Bykoda appeared so dominant in her keep that you never noticed her great age. In the springtime garden it was all too obvious. A touch of self-mockery had underlain Bykoda’s words, but the description old woman was accurate. Even without the assassin’s help, Bykoda did not have much longer to live.

  “I’ve been giving some thought to your departure. We need to make sure that you’re well on the way before the assassin knows you’ve left Tirakhalod.”

  “What do you propose?”

  “Have you made enquiries about the route, and when you can leave?”

  “Yes. I spoke to Anid yesterday afternoon. She thinks the pass at Horzt will be open within days, and that I could leave now.”

  Bykoda nodded. “Then I think that now would be a very good time to go. Or more precisely, tomorrow. My acolytes are all here for the council meeting, which means that they aren’t sitting in ambush on the road ahead of you. Wait until the meeting is underway and then go. They’ll all be fully occupied, so nobody will have time to notice that you’ve left Tirakhalod for a few days.”

  “I’ll need provisions and to pack in secret.”

  “I can help you with that. Come to the keep this evening. I’ll have everything you need ready. And I’ll try to make sure that you have a good head start. Normally the council meeting goes on for four to five days. I’ll keep them hanging around the castle for as long as I can. But...”

  “But?”

  Bykoda sighed heavily. “You’ve examined the council room?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you must have realised that my killer is a formidable sorcerer. I fear one of my acolytes has been hiding their talents. If it comes to a battle, I might lose.”

  “I hope that you don’t.”

  “I hope so too. But one comfort I can take from the oracle is that I know it won’t be fatal this time. The moon is in the wrong phase and the wrong position.”

  Bykoda came to a halt in front of a bed of roses. She bent her head to smell one, and then straightened again, smiling. “Do you know the oracle has been something of a blessing to me?”

  Jemeryl was surprised. “I’m not sure I’d have looked at it that way.”

  “Do you see the towers and all the windows around us?”

  “Yes.”

  “Has it occurred to you what an easy target I am standing here?”

  “Er...no.”

  The two women strolled on farther, passing down a walkway beneath a pergola. Pendants of purple wisteria dangled above their heads. The breeze carried the scent of the flowers.

  “I hadn’t dared leave the keep openly for decades. Imagine. I’m the Empress of a mighty Empire, and I’ve been a prisoner in my own keep. But now, I know I won’t die in the garden, so I can walk out in the sunshine and stop to smell the flowers. It has been a great blessing for my final years.”

  A shiver ran through Jemeryl as she remembered Anid’s revelation about Bykoda’s children, dead at the hands of someone who wanted to hurt the Empress. And now, Bykoda lived alone in her huge empty keep, with just the company of mindless thralls. She was utterly alone. It was a high price for being ruler of an Empire. Anid’s warning against becoming Bykoda’s successor was unnecessary. The price was not one that Jemeryl would ever be willing to pay.

  *

  Snakes of green light wreathed the rune sword. The shimmering continued up Tevi’s arm as far as her shoulder. Mavek lifted the tip of the blade level with his eye so that he could squint along the length, and shot a succession of sparks from his fingertips. The green bands rippled where they were hit and then reformed in a different alignment. Although there was no detectable effect on the hilt, it seemed to fit more naturally in Tevi’s hand. Mavek grunted and picked up a glass knife.

  “It’s a beautiful piece of work.” He offered his opinion as he carefully sliced the knife along the length of the sword blade.

  “Is it one of yours?”

  “No. I’m not sure where Ranenok came across it. Probably retrieved it from raiders.”

  Tevi studied the play of light on the rune sword. The metal gleamed with a crystal purity. “Strange to think of brutes owning it. As you said, it’s beautiful.”

  “It’s a shame that its only purpose is to cause hurt.” Unmistakeable regret underlay his words.

  “Are you sorry that so much of your work does the same?”

  The muscles in Mavek’s jaw stood out as his teeth clenched. He suck
ed in a breath. “Sometimes I tell myself that I just make the things and I’m not responsible for how they’re used, but I can never quite get myself to believe it. There’s a good many folk lying in their graves, and my hand put them there, as surely as if I’d slit their throats.”

  Tevi shook her head. “You have to allow people responsibility for their own actions. A lot of those killed by your weapons had set themselves on the path to their grave when they decided to loot and steal and were stupid enough to think they could get away with it in Bykoda’s lands.”

  Mavek’s eyes met hers. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

  The question got under Tevi’s guard like a blow to the stomach. She raised her eyes to the ceiling while she composed an answer. “The same as you. Sometimes. Other nights I lie awake wondering if I should have done something different, and whether there is another person lying awake that night crying for somebody I’ve killed. But that is my guilt on my head. You don’t need to carry it as well.”

  “Hey, that’s too heavy a load not to share. I’ll do my bit.” Mavek grinned in a friendly fashion.

  For a while he continued to work with the glass knife in silence. Tevi watched him. He and Ranenok were her favourite people in Tirakhalod. They alone seemed to view her as a person rather than as an appendage of Jemeryl.

  “I appreciate Ranenok giving the sword to me.” Tevi moved to a less awkward topic of conversation. “I’ve only been doing my job. I don’t know why he was so generous.”

  Mavek snorted. “I asked him the same thing when he came to see me about doing this alignment for you. He said he wanted it to go somewhere it could be used properly. For most people this is just a heavy sword. There aren’t many with the strength and skill who can also benefit from the temporal harmony.”

  “Couldn’t Ranenok use it himself?”

  “He’s getting old for hand-to-hand fighting, and only having the one arm doesn’t help his balance. He’ll be passing over his command before too long.”

  “That will be a pity. He’s a good commander.”

  “Maybe. I don’t like him. I know that’s partly due to Bykoda’s tricks. But don’t get taken in by him. He’s out for himself, like the rest of us.” Mavek tapped on the blade. “Yes, he knew that you could use the temporal alignment. But I got the feeling he was hoping it might induce you to do him one last favour and go on a mission he was talking about.”

  “The trolls?”

  “Yes. Did you say you’d go?”

  “I said that I couldn’t. Jemeryl wants us to leave soon.”

  Mavek nodded. “Oh, right. Well, as a sorcerer, she’d get to make the call.”

  “No. It isn’t that. I’m...” Tevi ran out of words. She did not want to get into the real reasons for refusing. Jemeryl had told her at lunch about their plans to go the next day when the council meeting started.

  “I understand. I used to have an ungifted partner, years and years ago. It’s so hard to get the balance right between you. I used to try to make sure that I always listened to her wishes. But I know that sometimes we’d argue, and I’d just make up my mind about what I wanted and do it. It’s so easy, especially when that’s how the rest of the world assumes it is anyway.”

  “Jem doesn’t do that.”

  “No?” Mavek looked surprised. “Well...Ranenok’s not to know. There’s no way he’ll blame you for ingratitude if he thinks you’ve been given orders by Jemeryl.”

  “I’m not ungra—” Tevi stopped. She could not deny it. She was being ungrateful and it was not necessary.

  Tevi felt her lips tighten in resolve. As soon as Mavek had finished the alignment, she would go and tell Ranenok that she was able to lead the platoon out. Jemeryl would just have to accept it. After all, they were partners, and she had as much right as Jemeryl to decide when they left Tirakhalod.

  *

  Jemeryl put down her pen and dismissed the mage light. Only then did she realise how late it had become. Apart from the firelight, the room was in thick shadow. Through the window, the sky was turning pink with the beginnings of sunset. And Tevi had not yet returned from the forge. Was aligning the rune sword taking so much longer than expected? Or had Tevi been unable to resist this last chance to play on the battle table and gone straight to Yenneg’s quarters? Although surely she would have dropped the sword off first.

  Regardless, it was now time to collect the journey provisions from Bykoda. Jemeryl closed the cover of her journal, stood up, and walked across the room. Just as she was reaching for her cloak, she heard the sound of the door and Tevi entered with the rune sword in her hands.

  “There you are! I was wondering what had happened to you. Did the aligning take a long time?”

  “Um...a bit. But I went over to see Ranenok afterwards. To thank him again, and...” Tevi finished with a lopsided shrug, clearly ill at ease.

  “Are you all right?”

  “Oh, yes. I’m fine.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “Really sure?”

  Tevi just gave a tight nod.

  Jemeryl frowned. Something was bothering Tevi, but it did not seem to need immediate action, and if Tevi was not going to volunteer the information, sorting it out would have to wait until after the provisions were collected. Maybe if Tevi took her time calming down in their rooms, she would find it easier to talk.

  Jemeryl gave Tevi a quick reassuring hug, and then grabbed her cloak off the peg. “Sit down and relax. I’ve got to collect the stuff for the journey from Bykoda and sort out the details of us leaving. We’ll talk when I get back.”

  Tevi’s expression tensed still further. “Er...we’re going to have to change our plans a little.”

  “Why?”

  “Ranenok wants me to lead a platoon out to deal with a band of trolls tomorrow. I’ve told him that I will.”

  “But you know we’re leaving for the Protectorate tomorrow.”

  Tevi turned away and walked towards the fireplace. “We can change our plans. It will only take a day to deal with the trolls. I’ve worked it all out.”

  “Not with me you haven’t.”

  “Was I supposed to?”

  “It would have been nice.” Jemeryl felt a mixture of confusion and anger.

  “You didn’t discuss it with me when you told Bykoda we’d leave tomorrow.”

  “There didn’t seem to be any need to.”

  “Because I don’t get a say in it?”

  “Tevi!”

  Tevi deposited the rune sword on a table and turned back. Her expression was of somebody who was consciously working on sounding reasonable. “Look. This is what I’ve thought. The trolls are only fifteen miles away. Ranenok has scouts pinned on them, so they won’t take any hunting down. If I leave at dawn, I’ll get to them by early afternoon. There’s only fifty trolls, and I’ll have over two hundred troops, so the battle won’t take long. Once it’s over, I’ll leave the troops and ride back alone. We need to sort out a secret rendezvous outside Tirakhalod. The moon won’t set until after midnight, and I can be with you before then. So we’ll only delay leaving Tirakhalod by one day.”

  “And when did you work all this out?”

  “While Mavek was doing the alignment.”

  “You didn’t want to talk it over with me first?”

  “Ranenok was making his plans for the trolls, so he needed to know as soon as, er... There wasn’t ti...”

  Tevi’s voice died. She was, Jemeryl thought, a lousy liar. Anger started to overtake the confusion. “We’re going to be running for our lives from an assassin who’s strong enough to punch through a crystal shield. And you want to start playing games on a whim?”

  “It’s not a whim. It works out best for avoiding trouble as well.”

  “How?”

  “Because even if the assassin knows that you’ve got the talisman, they won’t be watching you quite so closely while I’m away. They won’t expect you to go and leave me. Also I know that you can put all the
provisions into one of your trick sacks, but you can’t do it with horses. I can bring you a spare one from the platoon. And you’ll find it a lot easier to slip out of the castle unnoticed if you don’t have to take a horse with you.”

  Jemeryl chewed on her lower lip while she glared at Tevi. To be fair, the plan was not without merit, but Tevi seemed to be acting in a deliberately provocative manner. “You should have discussed it with me first.”

  “Why?”

  Jemeryl dropped her cloak and paced forwards until she was within arm’s reach of Tevi. “Because we work best when we work together.”

  “Not that we worked best when I just...” Tevi’s voice died again, and her head sank.

  “What?”

  Tevi raised her head and met Jemeryl’s eyes. “It’s not that you prefer if I just blindly follow your lead?”

  Jemeryl turned around and marched back to collect her cloak. “Right. Fine. You go and fight your trolls. I agree that it works all right as a plan. I’d have liked to have been involved at some stage, but it seems you had some reason for ignoring me.” She flung the cloak around her shoulders and faced back into the room. “Have you sorted out where we can meet up after you’ve finished playing soldiers?”

  Tevi swallowed. “There’s a guard post by a bridge about two miles south of here. It’s unoccupied at the moment since it’s still too early in the year for trade caravans. I thought it would be a good place.”

  Jemeryl nodded. “I’ll ask Bykoda to have the supplies left there. As you say, the less I have with me, the easier it will be to slip out of Tirakhalod unnoticed. I’ll go and see her now. And maybe when I get back, we can discuss this a bit more calmly.”

  “I’ve told you everything.”

  “You haven’t told me why. What have I done to upset you? Because I feel that you’re getting at me over something, and I’d like to know what it is.”

  Jemeryl left the room and slammed the door shut behind her.

  Chapter Seven—Plots and Potions

 

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