When Arkady acting like a whore was just what he needed.
He was no better than Cayal. No better than Jaxyn.
Actually, he’s worse, Arkady decided bitterly. Jaxyn and Cayal at least know they are bastards. Tides, they’re almost proud of it.
But Declan . . . Declan thinks he’s still one of us. Still thinks there’s some noble purpose to his actions . . .
“So, what happens if you get all the power in the world?” she’d asked him when they were children.
“I dunno. I think it would be fun, though, to find out . . .”
The memory burned like acid. And Arkady had her answer.
The clinic where Cydne once worked in Port Traeker was much as Arkady remembered it. She wouldn’t have come here had she any other place to go, but the closest thing Arkady had to a friend in Port Traeker was the slave Geriko. He might turn her in the moment he saw her, or he might be able to help her. Geriko knew people. He knew people who might know the best place to sell the beads. He might, if she was really lucky, not immediately report her and have her taken back into custody as a runaway slave.
Of course, that was assuming Geriko was even still at the clinic. Assuming it hadn’t been staffed by another physician from the guild, by now, who’d sent the Medura slaves back to the family compound and staffed it with his own people.
Her fears proved groundless, however, when she knocked on the clinic door a few hours after sunset, and it was opened a few minutes later by a bleary-eyed Geriko.
“Kady?” he exclaimed in surprise when he realised who was standing on the threshold. “What are you doing here? Out of uniform?”
“Can I come in, Geriko?”
“Of course!” He stood back to let her enter, glancing up and down the dark street before closing and locking the door behind her. “Tides, you’re a popular woman.”
She lifted the shawl from her head with a puzzled look. As a disguise it wasn’t very effective, but it gave her the illusion of being hidden. “What do you mean?”
“Are you hungry?”
“Starving. What do you mean, Geriko? Why am I so popular?”
“Come on,” he said, lifting the lamp from the side table by the door. “Let’s get you some food while we talk. You’re even skinnier than you were before you left.”
A little concerned, Arkady followed Geriko down the hall and out into the kitchen at the back of the clinic. There was no sign of any patients. The whole place looked as if it had been closed since they first left for the wetlands.
“Thought they would have killed you along with Cydne,” he said, opening a large clay pot to pull out a half loaf of bread.
“They nearly did,” she said, taking a seat at the table. “You heard about what happened, then?”
“Bits of it. Kinda hoped your old master found you before the troubles started.”
“My old master?”
Geriko nodded, handing her the bread. “Glaeban chap, he was. Said his name was Aleki someone . . . I guess he didn’t find you.” Geriko frowned then. “You know, if they catch you posing as a free woman, they’ll hang you.”
Arkady nodded, but didn’t bother to tell him she was a free woman now. The missing slave brand might be a bit hard to explain away.
“You said I was popular,” she reminded him. “Was that just because of . . . my Glaeban master?”
“Tides, no, we’ve had all sorts of people lookin’ for you. Last one even left you a letter.” He scratched at his beard thoughtfully for a moment and then vanished into the darkened hall toward his quarters. Arkady bit into the bread, wondering who else could have found her here.
And why they hadn’t been around when she wanted to be rescued.
Geriko reappeared a few moments later with a letter, sealed, Arkady was astounded to discover, with the Glaeban Ambassadorial seal, one identical to the seal Stellan had used in Torlenia.
She tore the letter open, her hands shaking. Who from the Glaeban Embassy knew where to find her?
Tides, Jaxyn has found me . . .
Then she told herself sternly to settle down. If Jaxyn had found her, he wouldn’t have left her a letter telling her about it.
My Dearest Arkady, the letter began. I hope this letter finds you. When we heard you’d been sold into slavery in Elvere, we were devastated. I can’t imagine what the experience must have done to you.
Fortunately, help is at hand. The slave I am leaving this letter with expects you back shortly. As soon as you get it, either come to the embassy or get a message to me. We will get this nonsense about you being a slave cleared up and see you safe and free once more.
The news from Glaeba is not good, as you can well imagine. With Stellan seeking asylum in Caelum, the king is very angry with him. And I can understand if you’re afraid to come to the embassy for that reason. I will be honest. My husband has a warrant for your arrest, but he knows nothing of your fate, or even that you are here in Senestra. Nobody knows, I suspect. It is only a happy accident that I found out.
It is safe for you to come here. When you arrive at the main gate, ask for me and tell them your name is Kylia (I’m sure you’ll see the irony). I want to help you, cousin. My loyalty is to my family first and there are many of us, as I’m sure you know, who believe in Stellan and would support him as king.
As soon as you get here, I will get a message to Stellan and arrange passage to Caelum for you to join him.
Tide willing you’re still safe.
Your cousin,
Loriny Devale
“Well?”
“Well what?” she asked blankly, a little overwhelmed.
“Is it good news?”
“Possibly.”
“You can’t tell?”
Arkady studied the letter thoughtfully. “It might be a trap.”
“She seemed nice, the lady what brought the letter here.”
“What did she look like?” Arkady asked, trying to recall what her husband’s cousin looked like. Lady Loriny Devale was a cousin of Stellan’s, but Arkady had only met the Devales once, at her wedding to Stellan. Loriny’s husband was a career diplomat and spent little time in Glaeba. She didn’t think she and Loriny had become such fast friends at that one brief meeting to warrant her taking this sort of risk for her cousin’s wife.
The news Stellan was in Caelum and in direct conflict with the king left Arkady feeling ill. What was he thinking? Declan had said he was in hiding. Now he’s challenging the king? Not that they’d spent much time talking of her husband, but he’d certainly not given the impression Stellan was planning to challenge the throne directly.
Arkady was torn with indecision. If this letter was genuine, she had a safe way out of Senestra, with help from people she could trust. She had no trouble believing that Stellan would attract a lot of support if he set himself up in opposition to Mathu. That was the reason Reon Debalkor spent so much time trying to undermine him.
“Dark hair, pretty. I dunno. All Glaebans look the same to me.”
“Did she say how she knew I was here?”
Geriko shook his head. “Didn’t ask, truth be told, but your old master found you, so you can’t have been that hard to track down.”
Arkady wished she could believe it was that simple. This offer was exactly what she needed—which was part of the problem.
Perfect solutions rarely were.
“Can I stay the night here, Geriko?” she asked, too tired and too confused to make a decision about this now.
He smiled at her hopefully. “Sure? In my bunk?”
Arkady tossed and turned all night, and decided, in the end, to trust herself rather than an all-too-good-to-be-true missive from some distant cousin of Stellan’s. She tucked the letter into her pocket next morning and, as they ate breakfast, asked Geriko where she could sell some nacre beads. Better she buy her own ticket out of this Tide-forsaken country than rely on the dubious family ties of a man now disgraced and considered a traitor.
“Down at the Gem Str
eet markets, I s’pose,” the slave told her. “Why? You got some treasure to sell?”
“I have some nacre beads . . .”
“Show me.” His eyes were a little too eager, but Arkady had no choice, now she’d admitted to owning something valuable. She reached into her pocket and scooped up a small handful of the beads, leaving the rest of them concealed in the pouch.
Geriko’s eyes lit up with amazement. “Tides, Kady, these are worth a fortune!”
“Do you think I can sell them for enough to buy a ticket out of Senestra?”
He nodded. “I’d say so. But . . . Tides, woman, you can’t walk around the street carrying this sort of wealth!”
“I don’t really have much choice.”
“Let me do it, then.”
“Pardon?”
“Let me sell ’em for you,” he offered. “You don’t know the city and don’t know enough Senestran to haggle with those thieves down the markets in any case. I can sell ’em, and bring you back the money.”
Arkady looked at him doubtfully. He had a point. He also had an uncomfortably avaricious gleam in his eye. “I don’t know, Geriko . . .”
“Give me only a few of them, then,” he offered. “So’s I can prove meself. I’ll bring back the cash once they’re sold and then, when you’re sure I can be trusted, I can sell the rest of ’em for you.”
Arkady debated the problem for a moment and then nodded. She figured if she only risked a few beads, there wasn’t much to worry about. Even if Geriko stole half the money, which she didn’t really begrudge him, she’d still probably have enough to be gone from Port Traeker by nightfall.
“Very well,” she said. “Take a dozen of them. If you bring me back a decent price, you can sell the rest and I’ll give you ten per cent as a commission.”
The big slave scooped up the beads, nodding eagerly. “Don’t worry, Kady. If there’s one thing you can be sure of, it’s that nothin’ gets between Geriko and a quick profit.”
Geriko’s words proved prophetic. Nothing was going to be allowed to get between him and a quick profit. What Arkady had failed to take into consideration was that the quickest profit he could make wasn’t the ten percent commission she’d offered him on the nacre beads, but the reward the Glaeban Embassy had put on her capture.
They came for her a little over an hour after Geriko left the clinic. She heard the knock on the clinic door, and thinking it was Geriko returning, she’d opened it willingly. Arkady was immediately overpowered, the embassy felines none too gentle in their handling of this former duchess implicated in the death of the King and Queen of Glaeba.
Arkady was put in an embassy waiting room, not a cell, by the felines who’d arrested her. She paced the room fretfully while she waited, wondering who would come for her next. Then the door opened and Arkady sagged with relief when Loriny Devale walked in, unaccompanied by any guards.
“Loriny?”
Stellan’s cousin hurried across the room to embrace her. “Tides, you’re all in one piece. I couldn’t believe it when they told me they’d found you. I thought you were dead.”
Arkady clung to Loriny for a moment, more grateful than she could find words to express her relief at such a warm welcome. Perhaps then, the letter from Loriny had been genuine, Geriko’s betrayal less devastating than it seemed. Other than the guards who’d brought her to the embassy, there was no sign that she was anything other than a guest.
She let the young woman go and smiled wanly. “On more than one occasion in the past few months, Loriny, I had cause to wish I was.”
“You must sit down,” Loriny urged. “Have you eaten? You’re so thin.”
“I wouldn’t say no to something other than bread and hard cheese,” Arkady admitted as she took a seat on the sofa by the window.
“Then let me organise some real Glaeban food, and you can tell me the rest of it.” Loriny quickly moved to the door, called a servant and ordered lunch brought to them immediately, and then hurried back to Arkady, taking a seat beside her. “When we heard the news about what Stellan had done . . .”
“Stellan didn’t do anything, Loriny. The charges against him were false.”
Loriny nodded. “We never believed he had a hand in the death of the king or queen. But the other rumours—the ones about his . . . choice of lovers. They’re much harder to deny.”
Poor Stellan, Arkady thought. How hard you tried to keep your secret. And how futile your efforts ultimately proved to be.
“Stellan is a good man, Loriny,” she said. “I won’t hear anyone say otherwise.”
She smiled and placed her hand over Arkady’s reassuringly. “Of course he is. And you know how we feel about him. But tell me, how did you finish up here in Port Traeker?”
“When the charges were brought against Stellan, I feared what might happen to me,” she said, telling Loriny the story she’d practised silently all the way from the Outpost. “So I fled Ramahn and made my way to Elvere. That’s where I took ship for Senestra.” It was the truth, albeit a heavily edited version of the truth.
“We’ve been so worried about you,” Loriny said, squeezing her hand.
“We?” she asked curiously, wondered who else there was left to care about her fate.
“Didn’t you know? Everyone has been searching for you, Arkady. That’s why we posted a reward, which, thank the Tides, that slave at the clinic remembered.”
“But why? If Stellan is in Caelum agitating for the throne, as you say, I can’t imagine anyone would care about my fate, one way or the other.”
“Don’t be silly, of course people care. In fact, your arrival couldn’t have been more perfectly timed.”
“Timed for what?” Arkady asked suspiciously.
Loriny never got a chance to answer, because at that moment the door opened and the slaves arrived with lunch. They uncovered the serving cart to reveal a selection of cold meats and fruit, and a plate of pungent cheeses. A moment later the door opened again and another woman entered the room carrying a tray with a bottle of wine and three glasses. Arkady studied her warily. She was tall and dark-haired with dark, exotic eyes and an air of insufferable smugness. This woman was no embassy servant.
“You didn’t have to serve the wine yourself, my lady,” Loriny scolded pleasantly, as the woman placed the tray on a side table.
“Don’t be silly,” the newcomer said with a smile. “When I learned of your guest, Lady Loriny, I couldn’t wait to be of service. I mean, it’s not every day one gets to meet the elusive and notorious Arkady Desean.”
Arkady frowned. “You seem to have the better of me, my lady. You know who I am, but I’m afraid I’m unable to return the compliment.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Arkady,” Loriny said, looking embarrassed. “I didn’t realise you two hadn’t met. Arkady Desean, this is . . . Lady Aleena Aranville. She’s the new Duke of Lebec’s cousin and his fiancée. She came to Senestra looking for you. She’s the one who posted the reward.”
One look at the future Lady Aranville and Arkady was quite certain she knew where she stood.
And the foolishness of trying to fight it.
Loriny seemed to know it too. She looked down at her hands, unable to meet Arkady’s eye. “I’m sorry, Arkady. But my husband is loyal to the king.”
“And that means loyal to my fiancé, the King’s Private Secretary.” Aleena smiled. “My friends call me Lyna, by the way.”
Arkady hesitated for barely a moment, beyond being surprised any longer. Lady Aranville, by revealing her true name, had told Arkady all she needed to know about her future. She smiled at the immortal, determined not to give her the satisfaction of seeing her despair. “You have friends?”
Loriny gasped. “Arkady . . .”
“Oh, don’t worry about Arkady’s manners, my lady,” Lyna said, her eyes fixed on Arkady rather than on her hostess. “Our former duchess has nothing left to fight with but her wit. And I admire a woman who fights back . . . even when she’s unarmed.”
Bitch. Arkady had no way to fight this immortal, not really—except with the knowledge Cayal had given her about what was happening in Jelidia. “How’s your lover, by the way?”
“Lord Aranville is just fine, thank you. He’s very much enjoying being Duke of Lebec. And Private Secretary to the king.”
“I meant your other lover. Kentravyon.”
“Arkady! Please!” Loriny cried in horror.
Lyna didn’t flinch, however. She stared at Arkady for a long moment, as she realised the question was a blatant declaration of war. I know you, Arkady was telling her. I know who you are and what you are and what you’re after.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Kentravyon,” Arkady repeated. “I believe you thought he’d . . . gone cold on you? Well, my lady, I have it on good authority his brothers, Cayal and Lukys, have been down to visit him. He’s . . . thawed considerably.”
The immortal woman paled. Arkady had no idea if she’d made things better or worse, only that if this woman was now in cahoots with Jaxyn, knowing Kentravyon was back among the living might fracture that alliance.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Lyna said after a time. Then she turned to Loriny. “Please inform your husband, my lady, that I appreciate his hospitality, but now that I have Lady Desean in custody, we must depart immediately for Glaeba. If he could make the arrangements as soon as possible, King Mathu and Queen Kylia will be very grateful.”
Loriny jumped to her feet, spared Arkady a brief, worried look, and then curtseyed to her guest. “Of course, my lady. I’ll see to it immediately.”
The ambassador’s wife hurried from the room, leaving them alone. Lyna’s gaze hadn’t wavered from Arkady’s face the whole time she spoke to Loriny.
“What will you achieve by taking me back to Glaeba, my lady?”
“I’ll prove to Jaxyn that he can trust me.”
“Why do you even care if he trusts you?”
She shrugged. “I don’t fancy spending another High Tide fending for myself. And if you’re right about Kentravyon . . . well, all the more reason to find myself a comfortable place to wait it out.”
The Palace of Impossible Dreams Page 48
