“He did question her,” Foster broke in loudly as he glared down at Noble once more. By his posture the knight looked ready to fight, but Neph wasn’t sure if he was ready to attack him or Noble.
“I did,” Noble agreed with a quick nod. “See, I was drinking with her the entire time we talked and I made sure she was downing the fortified wine. It’s a trick I use at the gambling tables so I’ve gotten pretty good at slipping things into drinks.” “Why exactly do they call you Noble?” Neph snapped with a disgusted shake of his head.
“Kind of like calling a giant Tiny, I suppose,” Noble said with a shrug and exhaled slowly. “She answered my questions pretty easily and I think some of them she answered truthfully.” He paused and rubbed his neck again frowning. “Actually she spent more time bitching, once I got her talking than she actually did answering questions. She was pretty peeved with her boss.” “Who did she work for?” Neph prompted.
“Hemlock,” Noble answered softly. He stepped back as Neph’s glower intensified and Foster shoved him forward once more. “She, uh, was pretty upset that Hemlock was favoring her rival on their mission in Merro. Apparently the guy was a half-blood Soulreaver and had been spirit riding a scout during Valor’s briefing that morning in the garden. So he likely knows the truth about everything, but I didn’t realize that when I was spinning lies for her.”
“Bloody buggering hell. So Hemlock knows Jala is in Seravae with just Valor as back up,” Neph mumbled as he leaned back and rubbed his face.
“By the way she talked, I don’t think Hemlock wants Jala dead. She said Hemlock didn’t show her partner favor until she asked why they weren’t killing Legacy, and then she bitched because Hemlock wanted to keep Jala happy,” Noble spoke the words with obvious hesitation and by his expression Neph knew the man was feeling extremely guilty.
“So, of course, you arrested her after she admitted wanting to kill the Heir of Merro,” Neph said in a cold voice.
“I had intended to arrest her in the morning,” Noble admitted quietly. “She was pretty drunk and I didn’t see any way she would wake up before me,” he added.
“So you chose bedding the spy over arresting the spy,” Neph surmised with a faint nod.
“She was fit,” Noble sighed in remorse.
“Arrest him and take him to the cells, Foster. Vaze or Valor can deal with him when they return,” Neph ordered as he stood from his chair and carefully folded the map he had been examining.
“What?” Noble gasped his eyes widening. It was obvious the man knew he had screwed up, but he apparently didn’t realize how badly. “I’m not really sure what Jala will call your actions, but in Delvay what you did is called treason. Until they return, you will be treated accordingly,” Neph informed the knight coldly as he headed for the door. “If he isn’t imprisoned by the time I return, Foster, I will consider you guilty as well.”
“He will be in the cells, Lord Delvay,” Foster informed him coolly. “Are you going to support Lady Merrodin in Seravae, Sir?” he asked before Neph could close the door behind him.
“No, I am going to speak with Jail and see what we can discover about Hemlock’s motives. I believe the part about Hemlock wanting to keep Jala happy. If he had any other plans he would have acted on them while he was here. So Jala is safe enough for now. I’m not sure about the rest of us, though,” Neph answered with a shake of his head. He glared at Noble and shook his head with disgust before closing the door and turning down the hall. He would never understand people no matter how long he was forced to deal with their stupidity.
* * *
Neph paused as his transport spell faded around him and turned slowly in a circle staring at his surroundings in confusion. He had directed his spell to the Merro district and should have been very close to the main house, but that wasn’t where he had appeared. A large crowd of people milled around him and the area he stood in appeared to be some kind of holding pen. At first glance he had thought someone had managed to pull him out of his spell and he had ended up in slave pens, but that couldn’t be right. He recognized the city around him. This was Sanctuary. It was just the wrong part of Sanctuary.
“Next!” A man bellowed ahead of him and the crowd shifted as someone moved forward.
“What the bloody hell is going on here,” Neph snarled and the woman in front of him turned to regard him with an annoyed expression. “It’s a security check,” she informed him with a shake of her head. She rolled her eyes as she turned back to watch the line in front of her. “Haven’t been to Sanctuary since the Empress made her changes, eh?” an older man behind him said in a conversational tone.
Neph half turned where he stood and shook his head slowly. The man was half-blood, if that, with a short squat build and garish colored clothing in blue and yellow. By his appearance, he likely was a merchant Neph decided. While he would have preferred to simply glare and turn away, he needed the information the man had, and apparently the merchant was willing to chatter. “The last time I was here you could use transport magic anywhere in the city,” Neph prompted in the most polite tone he could muster. It was difficult to keep the annoyance out of his voice. He hadn’t expected this kind of delay, and by the size of the crowd in front of him he was going to be here for hours.
“No one is allowed to simply come and go as they please anymore. All transport spells are directed here, and all ships must pass through customs,” the man informed him in a superior tone as if he were addressing a country bumpkin.
Neph nodded slowly and scanned the horizon once more, taking note of the buildings he could see. The arena was obvious enough, but he wasn’t sure what the massive building beside it was. It hadn’t been there the last time he was in the city. His eyes narrowed as he examined the twisting spires that lined its roof and the pale white marble it was crafted from. It had to have been created with magic. Nothing that big could have been built so quickly by hand. Its location didn’t make sense either. It sat to the west of the Arena, closer to the center of the city, and from what Neph knew of that part of Sanctuary, there simply wasn’t room for a building of that size. Its foundation would have covered the entire city market as well as the park and fountains.
“The Empress’s palace. I was here the day they raised it,” the merchant informed him in the same smug tones. “They shifted the entire city to make room for it. Quite the work of magic to behold.”
“What happened to the park and the city market?” Neph asked curiously. It wasn’t worth the effort to put the little man in his place. If he wanted to feel smug and superior then Neph was inclined to let him. It was obvious the stupid bastard didn’t realize he was addressing the High Lord of Delvay. People were generally a lot more subservient when a High House was involved.
“The little park that was there was leveled and rebuilt. It’s called the Walk of Heroes now, and the Empress has had statues placed as a memorial for all those who died to save the city,” the man answered with a note of pride in his voice.
“Really? Must have taken a lot of stone to craft images of all of the commons that were killed that night. I doubt there is any room for plants in her garden with that many statues,” Neph commented dryly and rolled his eyes. “It’s good to know, though, that the Empress is working on such important projects while the rest of the world rips itself apart.” He shook his head in disgust and started to turn away, but paused as he noticed the man’s look of outrage. He raised an eyebrow at the squat little merchant daring him to object.
“Do not dare to speak ill of the Empress. She saved us from the tyranny of the High Lords,” the merchant snapped in a tone filled with anger. His pudgy cheeks began to flush red under the sparse bristles of his graying beard.
“The tyranny of the High Lords, eh?” Neph mused with a slight nod. Taking a deep breath he rounded fully on the man and looked down at him giving him a full view of his face, and his obvious high birth. “Not all of the High Lords are tyrants and I think you might have your facts a bit wrong. Your Empr
ess did not save the city, the High Lady Jala Merrodin did. If not for her husband the barrier wouldn’t have fallen and if she hadn’t chosen to fight that night, the Fionaveir wouldn’t have won. So don’t puff up like a little frog to me about insulting your Empress when she didn’t do anything but build a pretty house and redecorate a garden.” His voice rose as he spoke and his last words were more a snarl than anything else. Everyone was staring at him now and he could see guards pushing their way through the crowd to reach him.
“It is against the law to speak ill of the Empress,” the merchant informed him as he took a hasty step away from Neph.
“Breaking the law, eh? How about I shatter it instead,” Neph growled and glanced toward the approaching guards. “This little security check wouldn’t be needed if the Empress were truly doing her job. Because she sits on her pretty ass in Sanctuary and plants roses, the world is still at war. Maybe if she took a moment to look beyond the city and came out of hiding, I wouldn’t have to stand here in this pen like cattle waiting for the slaughter. Or even better, how about the Fionaveir actually support the people that gave them power to begin with? Way to leave your allies to rot, fuckers!” he finished loudly as the guards reached him. Smiling coldly at the two men he held his hands out in front of him. “Go ahead, arrest me. At least it will get me out of this pen,” he snarled.
“Ahh, Neph. Welcome to Sanctuary,” A musical voice rose from the behind the guards. More people shuffled out of the way as Victory Faydwer stepped into view. Sunlight glinted off his polished plate mail as he stopped in front of Neph and smiled. His green eyes danced with amusement as he regarded Neph and it was obvious from his expression he was trying not to chuckle. He shook his head once and let out a long sigh. Glancing over to the two Fionaveir guards he rolled his eyes. “Arrest Lord Delvayon and escort him to the holding cells,” he ordered in an amused voice. Glancing back at Neph, Victory smiled ruefully. “I will send word to House Merrodin of your arrest,” he informed him politely.
“What exactly is the penalty for insulting the Empress’s half-ass job of ruling?” Neph asked as the guards clamped manacles over his wrists.
“It varies depending on the severity. Yours will be monetary I’m sure. You haven’t actually threatened Empress Symphony’s life, so it should be a trivial matter,” Victory answered with a shrug.
“So there is a fine for speaking the truth. That’s cute. It sounds like something Avanti or Morcaillo would think up. Is the Empress using either of those houses as Advisors?” Neph asked in an overly polite voice.
“I hope you have a lot of money, Neph. I have a feeling your fine will be increasing the entire way to the holding cells,” Victory sighed. “I hope you have really impressive holding cells if you expect them to contain me,” Neph replied coldly.
Victory blinked a moment and shook his head slowly as he sighed. “On second thought, I will escort Lord Delvayon personally. Return to your posts,” he informed the guards with a mild look of annoyance on his pale face.
“You’ve got balls, Victory, if you think you can stop me by yourself. I have business in the Merro district. If not for your stupid security check I would already be done here and back home. As I recall, the districts belong to the houses and you should have no jurisdiction over me there,” Neph growled as he pushed his way through the crowd toward the gates.
“You haven’t been in the city since the changes were made, have you?” Victory asked quietly. Neph glared at him and Victory shook his head once more. “Neph, the old laws no longer apply in the city. Symphony deemed that the citizens of Sanctuary would be safer if she held power over all districts. They have been cleaning the city for the past three weeks and arresting anyone that is considered a threat.”
“Well that solves all of my problems, then. See, I was concerned about a certain Assassins guild in Sanctuary, but from the sound of it, your Empress has already taken care of the Nightblades so I shouldn’t have to worry,” Neph said with sarcasm dripping off his every word. “Oh, wait, we had Nightblades in our country two days ago. So I guess that means that rather than bothering with something as harmless as Assassins, the Fionaveir have been focusing on people being mean and saying nasty things about your Empress.”
“You are such an ass, Neph. Be sure and inform Jala that she owes me for helping you today,” Victory sighed. “We haven’t been able to locate the Nightblade guild house yet. We have managed to eliminate four thieves guilds, six slavers and at least thirty illegal gambling and fighting establishments.”
“Gee, I feel so much safer,” Neph responded dryly.
“Look, Symphony is doing the best she can considering the forces she has. It’s not as if we have an army to turn to. The entire Fionaveir barely equal one regiment of the Rivasan forces, and if we lose the city, we lose our power,” Victory explained in a level tone.
“You were there in Arovan so I can forgive you, Victory. You are an exception among the Fionaveir. What I want to know is this, though.
What is Symphony going to do when everyone that supported her dies? With her current leadership, everyone that she considers ally is losing, and when the dust settles she is going to be surrounded by enemies.”
Victory slowed his pace and shook his head slowly. He glanced around them examining the crowds and then looked to Neph and shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. That point has been raised several times, and every time we have been told we have to hold this city. If I could be out there fighting right now, I would be. So would a lot of the others. Hell, Havoc never came back to Sanctuary after the battle in Arovan. As far as I know he is still fighting the Blights.” His voice was quieter and it was obvious that he didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation. “Look, I won’t repeat anything that you have said to me in private, but I can’t promise we aren’t being overheard. So please, Neph, watch your words. I know you are a close friend of Jala and I really don’t want you in deeper trouble than you are already in because of that.”
“So, everything Shade said about the Fionaveir was accurate,” Neph surmised with a nod.
“Don’t mention his name in the city, especially not in the holding cells, Neph. Shade has become the scapegoat for just about everything that has gone wrong for the past year. If you even hint that you might know where he is, not even Jail will be able to get you released before questioning, and the questioning is not pleasant even for an Elder Blood,” Victory warned in a hushed voice.
“Do you believe it, Victory? Do you think Shade turned on the Fionaveir?” Neph asked coolly, but kept his voice low enough for only Victory to hear.
“What I think matters very little, Neph. It’s what others think that is listened to,” Victory replied quietly and glanced toward the looming palace in the distance. “Maybe things will get sorted out at the council. That’s what we are all praying for anyway.” “The council is still two months away,” Neph pointed out.
“And it’s all we have as hope, so don’t take it away,” Victory returned gently and nodded toward the large stone building tha t had served as Sanctuary’s prison for as long as he could remember. “The holding cells are in here. I will take care of the paperwork as quickly as I can and get word to Jail that you are here. With luck I will have it done before they process you to move to the prison.”
“What?” Neph snapped whirling to look at Victory. “What do you mean move me to the prison? This is the prison.”
“This was the prison, Neph. There isn’t enough room in this building to contain everyone that has been arrested recently. As I said, Symphony is cleaning the city and making it a safer place. These are the cells where prisoners wait until they are processed. Then they are either fined and released or sent to the main prison,” Victory explained calmly.
“I thought you said mine would only be a fine?” Neph grumbled.
“Right now it is,” Victory agreed with a nod. “But I know you too well, and I don’t think it will remain just a fine for long. By the time Jail arrives here to get
you out, you will likely be facing a life sentence in the Black cells.”
Neph snorted in amusement and nodded faintly. “Ya, I could see that happening. So tell Jail to hurry.”
* * *
The smell of the cells was thick with mingled scents of urine and vomit. Holding his breath against the stench, Neph shouldered his way through the crowded space to the small window and leaned against the filth covered wall. He had only been waiting for twenty minutes by his best guess, but the idea of blowing a hole in the wall was sounding better and better with each breath.
“Delvay to the front,” one of the guards bellowed from the hall and Neph stifled a snarl as he pushed his way back to the bars once more.
“This better be a summons for release,” he growled at the guard as the man regarded him through the thick iron bars.
“Watch your words, Delvay,” the guard warned as he pulled a heavy set of keys from his belt and proceeded to unlock the door. He stepped aside as the door swung open and motioned Neph through with his free hand. “Wait there till I get this door closed and then follow,” the guard ordered in crisp tones that suggested any fuss would result in injury for one of them. Apparently the man wasn’t having a good day either.
Neph nodded and snapped his mouth shut. It wasn’t often he decided to hold his tongue, but he really didn’t want a personal war with the entire prison guard. He glanced back at his fellow prisoners who were watching him with sullen eyes and let out a disgusted sigh. Perhaps one in twenty of them looked to be actual criminals. The rest were nothing more than terrified commons. Now was not the time to point out the injustice, though. It could wait until he was in a position that offered more power.
The guard turned wordlessly when the door was secured and started back down the hall at a quick pace. Neph fell into step behind him, his gaze moving from cell to cell as he walked. Most of the people seemed to be from the lower class and their poverty showed in their clothing and health. Every once in a while, though, he spotted someone dressed well with the fine blemish free skin that spoke of an easy life. They were likely the ones arrested for speaking ill of the Empress, he decided, as the guard continued up a set of stairs to the main floor of the prison.
The Elder Blood Chronicles Book 4 The Blessed Curse Page 31
