“You know, I found his lack of faith particularly disturbing…” she observed tartly, unable to help herself despite being well-aware that no one still present would have any chance of recognising a Star Wars quote.
Surprisingly made of sterner stuff, Silas rose from his seat but paused for a moment before De Lisle, pointedly throwing a caustic glare in Percy’s direction before addressing his superior.
“Your Grace, this ‘girl’ is as wretched and duplicitous a creature as any I’ve ever seen… I have… made mistakes…” he admitted eventually, forcing the words out through clenched teeth, “but I have nevertheless served you well these many years and you’ve always trusted my judgement. I implore you… do not trust this creature: she hides agendas of her own devising that none of us can see…”
“You will need this, Chief Quisitor…” the cardinal advised evenly, drawing a small, wooden box from a large pocket inside his robes. “Use it to heal that fool’s bones as you go out: he’s no use to us without both hands…” Silas took it from him and opened it carefully, finding within a Holy Pendant identical to the one he’d lost to Nev almost two days earlier.
“Your Grace, I thank you for your – !” The rest of the sentence was cut off as De Lisle slapped him hard across the cheek, sending the old man staggering backward as he fumbled to hang onto the box and its contents.
“Your incompetence is beyond measure!” He hissed softly, rubbing his striking hand with the other to ease the pain he’d felt in dealing the blow. “It’s only your ‘years of service’ that’s kept me from crushing your heart where you stand. I do not give you this as some pathetic symbol of forgiveness; simply that you’re no use to me at all without it: keep this one from falling into the wrong hands, and perhaps I shall forget the damage you’ve done here. Now, get out…!”
There was shame and embarrassment in the old man’s eyes, but De Lisle could also see a surprising amount of defiance as Silas clutched at his cheek with one hand and glared daggers in the cardinal’s direction. Just as had been intended, it was a lesson the man wouldn’t forget anytime soon, and the fact that the incident had occurred in the presence of a woman only served to make the whole thing that much more humiliating. Without another word, Silas stalked out of the room, his stiff, stilted footsteps sharp and clear as he continued on down the hallway and up the stairs at the far end.
“Much as a glimpse into Brother Silas’ psyche does sound vaguely interesting,” the cardinal admitted, forcing a wry smile, “I’m far more intrigued by the idea that you admit helping the witch and her accomplices escape, yet made no effort to go with them when the opportunity presented itself. Don’t think for a moment that my current focus on the mistakes of those other two fools in any way diminishes your failures,” he added, his expression and tone making it quite clear he was deadly serious. “In accordance with the will of The Shard, The Brotherhood persisted with its support of your operations in the other world long after it became apparent to me that there was no real likelihood of success: only twice have you actually returned with possible subjects and both occasions have now proved to be unmitigated disasters.
“I’m not interested in whining or excuses…” he continued, cutting off the protest she was clearly about to make. “The fact remains that you were on borrowed time before you were brought aboard Rapier, Mistress Persephone, and that situation hasn’t been improved in any way by your actions since. Amusing jibes and verbal sparring are fine diversions for a village tavern, but they won’t save you from the sword here… unless…” he added quickly after a momentary pause “…you have something to offer that is still of use…?”
Percy might’ve been more than a little crazy even by her own standards but she certainly wasn’t stupid, and it was patently clear at that moment that any sarcasm or disrespect in the words she next spoke would almost certainly result in her very quickly finding herself on the wrong end of a very terminal cure for dandruff. Much as it rankled that she ‘bend the knee’ to any man, she could see that discretion was the better option here.
“Cardinal…” she began, giving a textbook curtsey and affecting a picture-perfect expression of sincere obedience “…I helped the three of them escape for one reason and one reason only: revenge. She was my friend… I trusted her with the secret of this world, and she spat it back in my face… and I will see her suffer by my hand and mine alone…!”
“Now, revenge is an emotion I can understand…” De Lisle conceded after a moment’s thought, making his way slowly around the desk and sliding into the chair Silas had vacated. “It can be a powerful motivator, but only when used with judgement and control. Releasing the girl and her companions... that displayed neither. Did it not occur to you that perhaps, had they been recaptured, you might still have been allowed your vengeance?”
“Honestly…?” Percy asked in return, receiving a nod as she considered the question seriously. “No...” She shrugged. “Two men, both of them fools who’ve just been humiliated… no, I was pretty certain I wasn’t going to get a look-in there…” It was De Lisle’s turn to consider for a moment then, and he eventually returned a similar shrug along with a grimace of grudging concession.
“Possibly…” he admitted in the end. “Possibly… You’re a shrewd creature – that much is true. Are all the women of your world so aware at such a young age?”
“A lot of us,” she replied after another pause. “Not enough of us, but it’s getting better. Women have more rights in my world – more freedom – but it’s no paradise. Some men are still savages. There are too many of ‘em who think they can still treat women as possessions… who think they can hurt women whenever they please. There’s still a lot to learn…”
“A ‘lot to learn’…?” The Cardinal repeated with a wry smile, thinking momentarily on Phaesus’ misguided attempts so far to educate his own populace. “Do you think that better learning for women – better education – would make a difference?”
“Who said anything about women…?” She countered quickly, a faint bitterness in her voice now. “It’s men who need to learn… who need education… in my world and here…”
“An interesting idea… and who would be the one to teach them…?” He asked with a raised eyebrow, very interested in what response might follow.
“Are you trying to trap me?” Percy shot back, raising an eyebrow of her own. “Do you want me to say I would do it, giving you some reason to fear me… to condemn me later, should the need arise?”
“I am Chief Primus of The Brotherhood of The Shard and subordinate only to The Shard Gods themselves,” De Lisle declared slowly, a faint tinge of iron in his words now. “I need give a single word to have you disposed of… I need no evidence. Your ideas intrigue me however, and I would know more of them… know more of your world so that I might better deal with this other ‘witch’ you’ve released upon us.”
“Well, she’s far more dangerous than I would be…” Percy admitted, hiding her disgust just as De Lisle hid the sudden stab of fear that lanced through his heart over that revelation.
“How so…?”
“She’s smart... way smarter than I am…” she shrugged again, seeing no point in denying it. “She’s smart and fit, and she really knows how to use a sword… spent the last five years learning from some crazy old ‘Samurai’ guy. I’ll bet you the only reason she’s not killed anyone yet is the fact that she’s so bloody nice. Now she has one of your crystals too. She doesn’t know what she can do with it yet – not everything, anyway – but that’ll come soon enough…”
“Use it to control others, perhaps,” De Lisle mused, considering worst-case scenarios and not at all pleased with the idea this new girl could be smarter than Percy. “Control a rebel force and make them rise against us.”
“That shows you’re thinking like a dictator to begin with,” She pointed out drily, moving to take a seat on the bed. “She won’t need the crystal to bring people together… to convince them to rise up against you lot…�
��
“And why might that be…?” He asked sourly, not at all pleased with her remarks either.
“Well… because she’s nice, like I said…” Percy replied, sounding as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. “She cares about people… she’s open and friendly and likes to help others…” she continued, spitting out each ‘compliment’ as if it were poison on her tongue. “The crystal might let her show others the truth of what your ‘Brotherhood’ is like, but if something like that does happen, it’s she who’ll inspire them to rise up… all by herself…”
“We shall need to stop this quickly…”
“Yes, Captain Obvious… you will…”
“You’re insolence will bring you undone eventually,” De Lisle observed sourly, too preoccupied to find serious insult in her sarcasm.
“But not before I catch Nevaeh for you…” Percy suggested, sounding almost smug.
“So sure of yourself for one so young…” The cardinal shook his head in exasperated amusement. “I have hundreds of brothers to command, all with a direct connection to The Shard and the power it holds… with a snap of my fingers, I could also order the mobilisation of thousands of soldiers from every kingdom across the Osterlands… what makes you so certain that it will be you who gives me what I want?”
“Because… Your Grace… unlike Nevaeh Anderson, I am not nice…” she began slowly, picking her moment to show respect as she rose from the bedside and stepped slowly, purposefully toward him, “and there is nothing… in this world or any other… so cold, vindictive or dangerous as a teenage girl…”
He paused for a moment then, their eyes locked as each dared the other to look away first, and in the corner of his mind, that terrible, all-powerful voice echoed faintly:
We will consider this…
“I will think on it…” he advised eventually, fighting off a shuddering wave of dizziness that rippled through him in the wake of those words. “It is sufficient for the moment for me to say that your execution has been postponed and nothing more. Much will happen in the next few days and I will not risk what is already in play by concentrating on diversions. Once this Huon matter is done, we will consider this other matter of the witch… if it too has not already been resolved. It may be that she’s already captured and disposed of by then.”
Good luck with that… Percy thought silently, but she knew when to keep her opinions to herself, and simply added: “Of course, Your Grace…”
Annabel Martin’s parents had worked in the kitchens at Cadle for many years, and she’d grown up surrounded by royalty and nobles alike as a result. She’d taken a job as one of the princess’ handmaidens at just thirteen and had been a valued and trusted member of the royal household ever since. Five years later, she’d developed into a reliable, friendly and down-to-earth young woman who, although never provided with any formal education, was nevertheless bright enough in her own way, had been provided with knowledge of at least basic reading and writing by her parents, and generally displayed a relatively level-headed approach to the performance of her daily duties.
Annabel loved working for the King’s family; she was provided all the comforts a commoner of her standing could ever hope for, and her days – filled with hard work as they were – were also generally filled with the pleasant companionship of her peers and the princess herself. That had all changed however with the revelation that Princess Charleroi had seen a Keepsake. She’d been sworn to secrecy and she’d never have broken a promise given to Matron Griselda, but that hidden, terrible truth weighed heavily on her soul.
Annabel loved her princess dearly, and truth-be-told, she also held Matron in the highest regard, yet she was a Gods-fearing person too and she’d been raised to respect and believe in the principles and the teachings of The Shard. It seemed impossible to believe that Charleroi could be evil – that she could be a witch – yet the evidence had been clear all who’d been present that morning: the girl had seen The Keepsake and stood accused by her own admission. To say that Annabel now felt conflicted would’ve been a significant understatement.
Deputy-viceroy of Taas and very distant cousin to the king, Edward Garrick also felt conflicted, although admittedly for less altruistic reasons than those affecting Annabel. Tall and athletic and in the prime of his life at thirty-three summers, he’s served under Prince Baal in one form or another for most of his adult life and during that time, the pair had developed an almost symbiotic relationship. That being said, Garrick was nevertheless as shrewd, conniving and ambitions as Baal had ever been, and having come across information that might now be valuable and – more to the point – useful, he was now of two minds as to how he should proceed.
Garrick, a man whose career connections provided many and varied sources of intelligence from right across the length and breadth of Huon and beyond, knew that something was going on with the princess. He didn’t know exactly what that was as yet, but the fact remained that something unusual was afoot and he was now torn between the potential to turn any unexpected revelation to his own, immediate benefit and the recognition that any such information would also likely be useful to Baal in their support of greater, overarching plans of The Brotherhood as a whole. Rumours that Prelate Roland was already keeping a watchful eye on the girl for unknown reasons only added to the confusion of the whole thing.
Garrick wasn’t even sure what he was looking for yet, but he was a clever man with a predator’s instinct for cunning and he could almost smell opportunity in the wind. His sources hadn’t been able to work out exactly what was about to happen, but they’d certainly been able to tell him who was involved (‘someone’ who’d be dealt with properly in good time), and that knowledge alone was enough to make it worth investigating further.
Garrick’s opulent quarters at the Longhouse were on the second level, not far from the stairwell up which Charleroi had escaped after having overheard the conversation between Silas and the cardinal. His two large rooms were spacious and well-appointed, with luxurious, hand-carved furnishings and drapes of the finest silk that overhung windows opening up onto a balcony similar to the princess’.
The sitting room contained a large desk, a number of upholstered armchairs, a large fireplace in one corner, a dining table in the middle with seating for eight and two doors – one as entry and the other, opposite, leading to an equally-large bedroom. A piled plate of fresh fruit stood atop a low buffet near the main door and beside that, a narrow rack held a small selection of swords of varying sizes, supplied for his practice and amusement.
It was through that door that Annabel was ushered, escorted by a pair of large and rather intimidating troopers from Garrick’s own, personal bodyguard. She’d been told nothing of why she’d been brought before him and fear of the unknown and the known-but-secret was painfully clear in her expression and nervous demeanour.
“Mistress Martin…” Garrick declared with all the welcome he could muster, “so kind of you to come and see me at such short notice… I know you’ve your duties to attend to…”
“Weren’t nothin’, sir…” Annabel replied instantly, bobbing her head slightly as a sign of respect keeping her eyes fixed firmly at Garrick’s feet as he walked casually toward her around the dining table, “…nothin’ of any importance, sir…”
“‘No importance’…?” He repeated with kindly, mocking scorn as he silently waved away the guards behind her. “Don’t sell yourself short, mistress: without the hard work of our servants, there’s not a keep in the kingdom that would last more than a day before falling into chaos!” He reached out and gently placed a finger beneath her chin, lifting her head until their eyes met. “There are some who might underestimate the worth of their staff…” he added, nothing but sincerity in his expression now, “but I am not one of them. There’s a great failing in anyone who confuses ‘subordinate’ with ‘inferior’…” …or with dangerous… he added silently in his mind. For her part, Annabel could only nod silently in that moment, although she was
n’t sure about one or two of the bigger words.
“Now, as you probably know, mistress, I am deputy-viceroy to Taas…” he continued brightly, as she again nodded mutely, “…and a member of the Namur family. It has come to my attention that something – and I stress the word something – may be lurking in the shadows regarding a possible threat to the princess…”
“I – I don’t know nothin’ about anythin’ like that, sir…” Annabel answered far too quickly, and all the denial in the world couldn’t hide the start she gave at the mention of the princess, or the quaver in her voice.
“No… of course you don’t…” Garrick nodded slowly, giving what he hoped was a reassuring smile as he lowered his head in acknowledgement of her words and stepped away, moving around behind her as she stood rooted to the spot, staring straight ahead and frozen with fear. “You’re a handmaiden… why should you know anything about the dangerous politics of a monarchy? I, on the other hand, know exactly how easily an enemy can rise from within to strike at the heart of a kingdom…” he added, barking out the word ‘strike’ loud enough to make her flinch and whimper faintly “…just as was the case when king’s brother was assassinated six months ago.
“The king is not his brother…” he continued, trying to keep the sneer out of his voice as he spoke. “Our sovereign is a mild and temperate man, who – in a sane world – should have no enemies at all…” He grinned then, dark and evil and unseen behind the girl’s back as he stared unfocussed at the door and wall before him. “This however is not a sane world. I’ve been advised that someone has requisitioned a ship from the Western Merchant Reserve in the king’s name, along with sufficient supplies for a small army. That same ship left Strahn a few days ago and docked at Sternley yesterday afternoon. Now I’m a close friend of the royal quartermaster and even he does not know who has set aside these assets... something I find very strange considering he is, after all, the man charged with the administration of those same assets in the king’s name…”
Dragonfire Page 34
