Rennyn never once asked where anyone was as she progressed to being able to sit in bed reading and napping, and tottering about for short distances. She'd glance around the room each time she woke, but that was all. She knew as well as any of them that Sentene were incapable of leaving something like a Kentatsuki out there, no matter what country they were in.
When Rennyn finally ran out of newssheets, she had them clear one corner of the room and spent her time dictating sigils for Sukata to write in a circle that curved across both walls and the floor.
From Kendall's careful consultation of the Sigillic dictionary, this circle had something to do with making sounds louder, which was an odd thing for someone with a persistent headache to be caring about. Sukata and the Pest couldn't work out much more than that either, and Rennyn wasn't in an explaining mood.
It was all very dull. Kendall longed to go exploring, but the Kolans' silly language and Rennyn's babysitting needs made a jaunt more trouble than it was worth. And the longer the day wore on, the harder it was not to fret about bugs.
One sting. That's all it would take.
oOo
The scent of rain, and oil on metal. Damp wool. Hints of sweat and horse and leather.
"Illidian."
As Rennyn climbed from her blankets into his lap, the cold knot in her stomach finally unwound. She'd spent the past day pointlessly angry at him, for not being with her, for being in danger. And yet she would have wanted him to do exactly as he had, should she have been conscious enough to have any choice in the matter. The damnable weakness made her selfish. On the bad days her hatred of being so incapable splashed over onto everyone and everything, and all she could do was bite her tongue and endure.
Illidian could say a great deal without speaking. An initial close embrace. A soft breath stirring the strands of hair on the crown of her head. Then slight shifts, as he inspected as much as he could see of her without relaxing his arms. One hand smoothed a short distance along her spine, and then he moved her so she was not so tightly held, lifted her effortlessly, and took her out and down to a steam-soaked room on the lowest floor of the inn.
In the short months of their marriage Illidian had quickly learned that one of the things she hated most was the sense of grime that came with being bedridden. That and the humiliating necessity of being carried to the privy—or collapsing trying to get there alone. They'd had several discussions about Kolan bathhouses, and it was typical of Illidian that once the Kentatsuki was out of the way he'd reverted to their original plan for enjoying the first one they came to. They were certainly more convenient than a beaten metal tub manually filled.
If only she could revert to the physical condition she'd been in two days ago. At least with Illidian there the probability of passing out in the bath was not so great an issue. And it was wonderful being very warm and slippery clean and able to see that he was completely uninjured, only a little worn and tired. She fell asleep, woke snug in bed, and watched him reading for the short time before Kellian senses alerted him to her gaze. With him safely under her eye she finally felt able to question what had happened.
"Could it have been coincidence?"
"I lean toward the view." Illidian glanced briefly at the nearest window, which showed only that it was still night outside. "The Kolan commander we worked with told me that this is not the first Eferum-Get of unusually high calibre they've encountered in the past month. They may be remnants of the incursions caused by the Grand Summoning, since the impact of that stretched well past Tyrland's borders. Merely bad fortune that we encounter a Kentatsuki. Yet, given Prince Helecho's abilities, not impossible that he could arrange such a thing. I could not find any trace of him, amongst the swarm."
"How far did it spread?" The length of his absence had already told her that containment hadn't been simple.
"Two of the nearby farmsteads were completely lost. Three more with some survivors. When we could no longer track any roaming Kentatsuki, the soldiery recalled the small bands searching the area. They will commit a very large force and sweep the entire region to ensure none escaped. It's a methodical approach, and they'll clear any other Eferum-Get in the area at the same time. And the settlements have been warned."
There was a hint of dissatisfaction in his thin voice. It was one thing to be unable to find any Kentatsuki in the immediate area, and another to be certain none had escaped.
"What was the Kolan attitude toward your involvement?"
"Relief, primarily. A little unease and surprise when witnessing our inhuman aspects, but the Sentene are not unknown outside Tyrland's borders, and of course the Grand Summoning has been widely discussed in many countries. The commander was also aware of the role we both played, and the recent debates regarding Kellian. Any hope we had of travelling unremarked is completely lost, but our reasons for journeying to Koletor are not openly doubted. They are unlikely to interfere with us, but will certainly keep us under observation. It is more the possibility that, trap or not, Prince Helecho will hear of our presence and come here. If that had been anything less than a Kentatsuki, I could not have risked leaving you so long with only Sukata as protection."
Her Wicked Uncle had already demonstrated that travelling via the Eferum made it easy for him to keep a step ahead of them, though the lack of Grand Summoning-related breaches from the Eferum might make that no longer so true.
"We leave at dawn, then?"
"Yes. A very large caravan, since this emergency has kept almost everyone from the roads. They were very careful to reserve space for us." His voice was dry, for Kellian were used to being seen as convenient. "What is it you're trying to hear?"
She shifted to look at the Sigillic barely visible in the muted light of the partially covered glows. "I don't know. Something magic-based, because if it was simply sound, it would be you, not me, trying to track it down. Three times now, since we approached port, there's been snatches of music too distant for me to properly hear. I've yet to construct something I would risk casting, since the subject is so vague to me, and I can barely stay conscious to concentrate. It is possible that it's simply area noise—part of the land's natural magic—but I don't like to ignore it."
The way Illidian's arms tightened told her that he didn't, either. She could only hope that the solution wouldn't be delayed too long by her interminable need to sleep.
CHAPTER TWELVE
"Very different from the Little Mutching house," Sukata said, studying the building that would be their home for the next week.
After five long days on the road, Kendall was more interested in stretching than looking, but glanced up and nodded. "You'd not guess it belonged to the same family." The Claires' house in Little Mutching was bigger than Kendall's own family's had been, but of much the same type. This place was something else.
"We won't be short on room," Rennyn commented, critically eyeing four levels of windows, every one of them lit.
There was only a low bit of fence separating the straight-up rise of the house from the paved walkway, and the houses on either side were all the same type, with little in the way of gaps between them, so at first glance it all seemed to Kendall like a single endless building stretching down the street. There were other entry doors to show that wasn't true, but it was still a proper huge mansion, very near to the centre of Kole's capital, Koletor. The kind of place a Duchess might live in.
The shrivelled-up turtle of a man of business they'd collected continued his endless Kolan gabble, leading the way up the nearest short set of stairs. He'd been acting like Rennyn was some long-lost niece, but with just a touch of deference, and a lot of twittery excitement only dimmed when he noticed how very hard it was to see some of Rennyn's companions in the evening gloom.
"Mr Witteseer engaged servants after Her Grace's letter arrived," Sukata said, translating. "The house has been fully turned out, although some of the linens had decayed and needed to be replaced." She paused, struggling to understand, then added: "He is glad to see it open
again after so many years."
"I'll be glad if he'd just get us inside," Kendall said, as the thin rain threatened to return. "Think these servants will have anything on hand to eat?"
"The agent said he engaged a household," the Pest said, coming up to them. "That will have included a cook." He was looking entertained. "Estimates of the remaining Surclere fortune have been over-modest. Do you suppose the library here is as extensive?"
"Probably," Kendall said shortly, though the Pest never could catch a hint.
Nor could he hide the avid note that crept into his voice whenever the Surclere libraries came up. Since one of the reasons Rennyn was here was to check this house for things she didn't want people to see, there was a good chance there would be some juicy magical secrets for him to poke his nose into. More fool Rennyn for giving him the chance.
The front door of the house opened almost as soon as the turtle put his hand on the shiny knocker, but Kendall hadn't a chance to do more than see how warm and welcoming the inside looked before Sukata abruptly moved to stand by Rennyn's carriage door. Captain Faille turned from where he was waiting at the turtle's elbow, and then came down the stair as a squad of uniformed people on horses clattered to a halt as close as the carriages would let them. A round dozen extra-fancy soldiers looked at them through masks of leather panels and loosely-swinging chain veils of black and silver. Their clothes were coloured the same, and even the horses were done up to show they were special and important.
More gabble, as one of the riders dismounted and came to talk to Captain Faille. It was unfair that everyone except Kendall could understand. Still, she could read tone and gesture well enough. Stern statement. Polite question. Uncompromising command. Glance at Rennyn. Request. Grudging agreement. The upshot of all that was that their luggage was quickly unloaded before they all had to pile back into the carriages, leaving the turtle behind to explain to the wide-eyed servants.
"Are we being arrested?" Kendall asked, as soon as the carriage door was safely shut.
"Summoned to audience," Rennyn said. "Having waited for us to reach Koletor after making ourselves so interesting, it seems the Emperor's of no mind to delay any longer."
"He doesn't sleep," the Pest put in, sounding more excited than anything else. "He conducts Court business at any time of the day or night."
"Must be really annoying to work for," Kendall said.
"There is a Day Court and a Night Court," Captain Faille said, his creepy, whispery voice unexpected just because he usually didn't pipe up in the middle of conversations. "Two Chancellors, two Masters of the Guard, two Lords of Ceremony. The Night Court is smaller, but a great deal happens there."
Only one Emperor, though: getting on toward three hundred years old and probably meaning them no good. Kendall glanced at Rennyn, who was gazing out the lowered window. Was this summons just because of them helping out at the border? Or because the Emperor had heard of Rennyn's power and current vulnerability? What would they do if he wouldn't let them get on with chasing Rennyn's nasty uncle about, but instead wanted to use her knowledge for himself?
Since it didn't look likely that Rennyn was going to try to avoid the meeting, Kendall resigned herself to an uncomfortable wait. It had been too many hours since their break for lunch, and even though Captain Faille said the palace wasn't very far from Rennyn's mansion, Kendall really wanted a privy, and a nice big meal. And she was willing to bet that, though she had slept much of the afternoon, Rennyn could do with a long lie down. All these days of coach travel had done her no good, especially since they'd started out before she'd properly recovered from casting. Even the restrained jouncing of a spelled coach on an Imperial Road kept giving her headaches.
Grumbling silently about the Emperor's lack of consideration, Kendall felt the presence of a strong circle as they crossed it, and glanced past Rennyn to see they were in a tunnel or long gate. And then more rain-shimmering streets reflecting light from grand buildings. Kendall lowered the shutter on her side, and peered out curiously, trying to decide if this was the Emperor's palace or just a fancier district of Koletor. And had her answer when the coaches slowed, and rumbled to a stop.
A woman in a mask that covered only the left side of her face appeared outside Kendall's door, and waited for the man with her to open it.
"Your Grace," the woman said, looking past Kendall straight at Rennyn. "My name is Kishida Dzay. I will conduct you to the Waiting Rooms."
Caught between pleasure at someone speaking proper words and outrage that they'd been hurried up only to sit about and wait, it took Kendall half the first corridor to realise that the woman not only spoke Tyrian, but could recognise Rennyn at a glance. The implications of that weren't exactly comfortable, and Kendall turned them over until it became impossible not to just gaze about her.
Kolan palaces were just like Tyrian Court costumes: not an inch left plain. The floors were red and honey-gold wood, locking together in tricky chains. The walls were a dusty moss green below waist height, with red panels bordered with black above. Not simple swatches of colour, but shot through with thin lines of gold in patterns which seemed to be floral from what Kendall could make out without stopping. The black was a very dark wood, with little designs at the corners. The doors they were passing were made of the same stuff, and cut full of diamond and flower-shaped holes so that you could see the rooms beyond: some empty, some with little groups of people. And there were tables with bowls of flowers, and great big vases taller than she was, and furniture that was all curving lines and cushions. It wasn't cluttered, but because just about everything was scribbled on or painted, it meant that everywhere you looked your eye was caught and overwhelmed.
"This room has been reserved for you, Your Grace," said the Kolan woman, pushing open one of the hole-filled doors. "You will be given priority in the audience schedule. Would you care for refreshments while you wait?"
"Very much so," Rennyn said, sounding more resigned than annoyed at being hauled off to the palace without notice.
Kendall forgot her own annoyance when Kishida Dzay pointed out several doors down where the corridor widened out, and she took herself quickly off to use a privy that was bigger, cleaner and even smelled nicer than many houses she'd visited. Along with a screen hiding a throne of a privy chair, there was a big mirror with a table and stool and a stone basin and towels. A low firm couch was set against the opposite wall, just in case you felt tired on the way to taking care of your business, and beside that an ornamental pillar with a big vase full of fresh flowers. Most unprivy-like.
Not one to pass up Kolan wetworks, which she'd found would deliver endless amounts of hot and cold water, Kendall gave herself a quick wash, straightened her travel-rumpled coat, and then sneered at herself for preening in front of the mirror. If what they looked like mattered to this Emperor, then he shouldn't have had them fetched the second they arrived.
Heading back, Kendall found that a new door in the long corridor had opened. She was sure that doorway hadn't been there when she'd gone past before, and cautiously poked her nose around the corner. But it was only a passage leading to the kitchens. A trolley laden with food was waiting, and Kendall was tempted to go nab something, but then a tall boy stepped into view and snaffled one of the plates himself. Pushing his mask up so it sat on top of his dark hair, he lifted something gooey and bit into it, eyes squeezing shut like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted.
A man came out from the kitchen to the left, holding two more plates. He drew himself up as if to say something sharp, but then paused and hastily shut his mouth. Putting the plates on the trolley, he turned and fetched another to add, keeping his head tucked down and his shoulders bent like a wary dog with its tail between its legs. The younger one just watched, and stuffed his face, then turned his head, and Kendall had to duck back or be spotted.
Not sure she'd escaped being caught staring, Kendall took herself back to their waiting room and peered innocently at the patterns and furnishings until Ca
ptain Faille brought Rennyn back from their own trip. Knowing how Rennyn hated being babied about privy visits, Kendall tried to decide if her teacher was closer to collapse than she'd thought, or if Captain Faille was worried about her being attacked. She did look tired, but greeted the arrival of their refreshments with considerable interest, and stuffed herself with almost as much obvious enjoyment as the boy in the passage. It was definitely a fine spread, with many new and sometimes-tempting Kolan dishes.
When it seemed that their audience wasn't going to happen immediately after food, Kendall sat back and said: "That lady's was the first mask I've seen that just did one side of the face. Do the different sorts have different meanings?"
"Very much so," Lieutenant Meniar replied. "One of the histories we brought along lists them out. Only the Emperor wears a full mask—a white one. Everyone in the service of the Emperor—all officials directly appointed to carry out his orders—wears a charcoal-grey mask marked with the sigil that represents Kole. That's not everyone who works in this palace or anything near as many—only what are known as 'delegates'—so anyone you see wearing that colour and symbol is carrying out the Emperor's will. They wear different masks when they're not representing the Emperor. And all masks break down into two groups. Those who have one side of their face covered are not of noble blood. Nobles cover both eyes, and differing amounts of their lower face depending on how important they are."
"And soldiers use those veil-masks," Kendall noted, trying to fit all the variations they'd seen into this system.
Meniar nodded. "Families have particular colours and wear their crests. There's some wonderful stories of deceptions played using masks, and Kolan mask farces don't lose much in the translation."
Before Kendall could ask what a mask farce was, their palace guide pushed open the door and said: "Please come this way to the Primary Waiting Room. His Excellence will have time for you shortly."
The Sleeping Life (Eferum Book 2) Page 11
