“Put him in the chair.”
Before Lem could turn his head, he was lifted violently and painfully up, and shoved into one of the two chairs. A guard dragged the second chair in front of him and Lady Camdon took a seat, hands folded in her lap around the handle of his vysix dagger. She’d changed into a pair of soft blue trousers and a white blouse.
“You can wait at the top of the stairs,” she told the guards, waiting until they exited before turning her attention to Lem. “Now, then. What am I to do with you?”
“Where is Mariyah?”
Lady Camdon sighed. “You keep asking the same question. I told you: I don’t know where she is. But we’ll get to Mariyah in a moment. Right now, I want to know why you are here.”
“I told you. I came for Mariyah.”
She looked down at the dagger. “And what did you intend to do once you found her? Oh, that’s right. Free her from my sorcery. And you intended to do this by killing her, I presume.”
“I would never harm Mariyah,” he insisted, wincing at the pain in his shoulders. “You’re the one who imprisoned her.”
“So the dagger was meant for who? Me?”
“I was going to give it to Mariyah,” he replied. “To show her that…” His voice trailed off.
“Please continue.”
“It doesn’t matter. Do what you came to do.”
Lady Camdon placed the dagger on the floor. “I came to learn the truth. And if Mariyah’s life means anything to you, you will tell it to me.”
“What have you done to her?” More stabbing pain in his shoulder had him sucking his teeth as he struggled against his bonds.
Lady Camdon regarded him for a long moment. “I have done nothing. But I fear someone has.”
Lem ceased his struggle and took several long breaths. He needed to keep his wits about him. Find out what’s happened. “Tell me.”
“That’s better,” Lady Camdon said. “Now we can speak. Mariyah left the manor more than a month ago. I can’t tell you where she went. But I can tell you that she is long overdue.”
Could she have run away? Maybe she’d broken the spell that held her captive? “Why can’t you say where she went?”
“That doesn’t matter. What does is that I received word that she was returning home, and she should have been back a week ago.”
“This isn’t her home. This is her prison.”
“If you can’t control your temper,” she scolded, “we’ll be here a long time. But you are correct. This is not her home. Vylari is.”
Lem stiffened his back. “She told you?”
“Why wouldn’t she? Frankly, I didn’t believe her in the beginning. But she proved herself to be honest. Actually, Mariyah has proved herself to be a great many things. Which is why you should believe me when I say that I won’t waste time with you. I intend to find out what has happened to her. You can either help, or I will turn you over to the authorities.”
“So you’re going to let me live?”
She let out a sardonic laugh. “I value my life. I’m not about to tell Mariyah I killed her precious Lem.”
Lem was befuddled. He’d assumed Mariyah was bewitched. But with each word Lady Camdon spoke, he was wondering if he hadn’t misread the situation. He nodded. “I’ll help you.” He looked up and met her eyes. “But if I find out you’re lying…”
Lady Camdon was not cowed. “Save your threats. That Mariyah loves you is the only reason you’re not already dead. But this is my home and you will respect that fact. Or this conversation ends now and you can contemplate your foolishness from a prison cell.”
“I understand,” Lem said.
“Good.”
“Does she speak of me?” Lem asked.
“You need to focus,” Lady Camdon said harshly. “Love can wait. Mariyah cannot.”
Lem nodded. “You’re right. What can I do?”
“You can start by telling me why you have a vysix dagger.”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Lady Camdon sighed. “If you’re going to be difficult, I can always force you to tell me.”
“I was going to give it to Mariyah.”
“Yes. You already said that. But why do you possess one at all? They’re extremely rare, and made for one purpose only. How is it a musician has one?”
“It was given to me,” Lem answered flatly.
Lady Camdon raised an eyebrow. “A gift? Why would someone give you one of the deadliest weapons in Lamoria?”
Lem thought to be evasive. But there was no time for subtlety. “I was an assassin. The person who owned it before me was one also. She gave it to me because she could no longer bear to keep it.”
“I see. So you were going to give it to Mariyah to show her that you were giving up a life of murder? Is that it?”
Her sarcastic tone and judgmental stare were infuriating. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Gentle Lem,” she mused, shaking her head. “She will be most disappointed.”
“I did it so I could earn enough to buy her freedom,” he blurted out. “To get her away from you.”
“Mariyah could have left here any time she wished,” she said. “She chose to stay. You may not want to hear that; I can see that in your eyes. But the night she forced you to leave, she made a choice.”
“What choice?”
“To fight.”
Lem was not believing a word of this. “Who would Mariyah want to fight? She has no enemies in Lamoria. Unless you somehow convinced her to help fight yours.”
“The enemy she fights is not mine alone,” she replied. “There’s a war coming. One in which there is little hope for victory.”
“Belkar.” The name escaped his lips before he realized he’d spoken it.
Lady Camdon tensed. “What do you know about Belkar?”
“Enough to know that Mariyah has no business being involved,” he snapped back.
“You will tell me how it is you’re aware of this,” she said.
Lem felt a steadily mounting amalgamation of panic, despair, and anger. Lady Camdon had involved Mariyah in something dangerous; something that would likely get her killed. “I won’t tell you a damned thing until you tell me where you sent her.”
The two locked eyes, neither relenting for almost a full minute.
“Very well, I will tell you,” Lady Camdon said, exasperated by Lem’s obduracy. “But if afterward you hold anything back, you’ll wish you’d never left Vylari.”
And if you’ve gotten Mariyah killed, I’ll see that you scream out your last breath. “I already wish that.”
“She went to the Thaumas enclave,” Camdon said.
“Why would she go there?”
“Young man, Mariyah is more than my personal assistant. She is my student.”
This hit Lem like a slap to the face. “That can’t be. Mariyah would never…”
“So you see,” she continued. “Mariyah is no longer the helpless young girl she was. She is quite capable of protecting herself. Which is why I’m concerned over her absence.”
It was subtle, but he could see it. The slightest contraction of muscles around her mouth; a tremor in her voice, barely audible through her confident, steady tone. Lady Camdon was more than just concerned—she was frantic. This was deeper than a relationship between master and servant, or teacher and student. Lady Camdon loved Mariyah. “You can cut my bonds now,” Lem said. “I’ll tell you everything. You needn’t fear me.”
“I don’t fear you,” she replied, with a haughty air of superiority, as if the idea were ludicrous. “Your bonds will be cut when I decide.”
The pain in his shoulders was gone, driven away by sheer will. The pieces had fallen into place. Though he did not have all the information he wanted, he knew precisely why the events unfolded as they had that night in Lady Camdon’s garden. He had suspected that she was protecting him. The stranger who entered Vylari … she’d thought the letter he carried was about her. And now he knew
why.
“I have a list of Belkar’s followers throughout Lamoria,” he said.
This clearly caught Lady Camdon off guard. “A list? How did you get it?”
“The Archbishop,” he replied. “I copied it from a ledger I gave to the High Cleric.”
Lady Camdon looked at him, searching for a lie. She then rose and crossed the room, exiting up the stairs. After a few minutes she returned, carrying a small knife. “It’s too dangerous to cut your bonds with your weapon.” She sliced apart the strap and returned to her seat.
Lem rubbed his wrists. “There are dozens of his followers here in Ubania. I have their names and where they live.”
“You will give me this list,” she said.
“You can have it … after Mariyah is safe.”
“This is no time to be bullheaded. If they have her, you will need my help to find her.”
“I’m not being bullheaded.”
The clinking of glass halted their conversation and a young man in his nightclothes entered, carrying a platter with a kettle and two cups. With no table available, Lady Camdon gestured for him to place it on the floor between them, and then dismissed him with a wave.
“Mariyah has been helping me discover which of the nobles have fallen under Belkar’s influence. I know of thirty-five here and in Ralmarstad. And you tell me there are dozens?”
“Most are not nobles,” he replied.
“Who, then?”
“A few are commoners. But the clergy make up the largest portion.”
Lady Camdon looked stunned. “Are you sure?”
“I only know what was in the ledger. As for its accuracy, the Archbishop was … motivated to be truthful.”
Lady Camdon poured them both a cup of tea. “I think we should start at the beginning.”
Lem took a sip, mindless of the scalding heat. “I think you’re right. But I need you to tell me what you know first.”
“You are a stubborn one,” she said, with a tight-lipped frown. When Lem did not speak, she heaved a breath. “Very well.”
Lem’s impassive expression was a contrast to the boiling rage he felt while Lady Camdon told of how Mariyah had come to be in her household, how it had come to pass that she’d learned magic, and how Belkar himself had become enamored of her.
“You may have the list,” he told her once she was finished. “But there will be a few deletions.”
“I know what you intend,” she said. “I advise against it. Let me handle this. If any of them know where she is, I’ll find out.”
“How long will the numbness in my leg persist?” he asked.
“A day. I’ll have the wound treated properly in the morning. But I need you to remain in the manor until I’ve learned what’s happened.”
Lem placed the cup on the floor. “I will stay the night. But I will not remain in the manor.” He pointed to his dagger. “If you don’t mind? I can’t stand.”
Lady Camdon hesitated before retrieving the weapon. “You should heed my advice and stay hidden for now. If you’re caught, I cannot help you.”
Lem stared at the vysix dagger, speaking to himself in a faraway voice, now unmindful of Lady Camdon’s presence. “I swore I would only kill again if it meant protecting Mariyah. I thought when I saw her that it would wash clean all the blood I have spilled. Rothmore warned me about challenging fate.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “I should have listened.”
“I must know,” Lady Camdon said, “how is it you were able to speak with the High Cleric.”
“Adjouta,” whispered Lem, still speaking to himself. There was an audible gasp. He looked up to see Lady Camdon was covering her mouth, shock and fear replacing the poised expression she’d worn only seconds before. “Don’t be afraid.” Lady Camdon was clearly highly educated to understand what uttering that word meant.
“How is that possible? You can’t be.”
“I’m not the Blade anymore. And how it happened is a longer story than I care to tell. I will find out where Mariyah is. In the meantime, you should prepare to leave Ubania. I think war is coming soon.” He shoved the dagger in its sheath. “I had hoped to find a place for us to hide. Away from the world. I should have known better. Like Vylari, you can’t hide from the world forever. It finds you no matter where you go.”
“What happened to the Archbishop?” Lady Camdon asked in a low voice.
“There is no more Archbishop. No more High Cleric. No more Church of Kylor.”
“So they’re all dead?” she asked, horrified.
“Not yet. But I suspect they soon will be. Ralmarstad is under Belkar’s control.”
“How long do we have?”
“I don’t know. Not long, I wouldn’t think.” He rubbed his leg. There was no sensation at all. “Once I’ve seen your healer, I’ll be leaving.”
“You should stay. No one will know you’re here.”
“It will be easier if I’m within the city. If any of Belkar’s followers know where she is, I’ll find out by tomorrow night.”
“How?”
Lem gave her a dark look. “You’d be surprised what you can learn if you ask the right person … the right way. Don’t worry. I’ll let you know what I find out. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll need help until the numbness wears off.”
Lady Camdon rose and called for the guards. They were visibly shocked to see Lem free and wearing his dagger. But they did not question their mistress’s orders, and helped him up the stairs, this time with care, to be taken to a spare room.
* * *
Loria pressed her hands in her lap until the guards were well away. In a rush, she sucked in a trembling breath and wrapped her arms around her chest. The Blade of Kylor. She looked up at the now vacant chair. Adjouta. She had learned this word as a young woman. It was Felistal who had first told her the stories. But it was when she acquired a rare book on a trip to Ur Minosa that she discovered that they were more than mere fables.
The image of herself handing him the dagger chilled her to the core. Lem. Mariyah’s Lem. The man she claimed was so gentle as to not be capable of harming a soul. How could he have become the Blade of Kylor? Death in mortal form.
He had spared her guards. So clearly he was not lying about renouncing what he’d become. But in light of Mariyah’s disappearance … there was no doubt he would find out what had happened. She could see it in his stone-faced determination.
And what he had said about the church! How could the Archbishop allow Belkar’s followers to gain complete control? Fear was an emotion Loria had long been able to suppress. But having been inches away from what was one of the deadliest people in Lamoria, combined with the realization that Belkar’s influence reached well beyond what they had known, was threatening to turn her into a blubbering heap.
She remained there for a time until able to recover her composure. Mariyah would be crushed to learn the truth about Lem. Assuming she was still alive.
No. She lives. Don’t think like that.
Loria had initially been reluctant to admit that she had come to think of Mariyah as a daughter. Well, perhaps a younger sister. So much of herself was reflected in those defiant eyes; the way she attacked even the smallest problem as if everything were dependent on success. In a way, Loria could understand how a man who was by nature kind and gentle could set aside who he was and become something dark and sinister, if it meant saving her.
Still, the Blade of Kylor …
The expression on Lem’s face when he realized that his days of killing were not yet over made Loria shiver. She had met murderers before: people with blood on their hands who traded in death; assassins, heartless and cold. But never had she thought to be in the presence of the bringer of Kylor’s justice. A person with whom there was no negotiation. No mercy. Never stopping. Never failing. A black wind on which was carried the voice of silence.
He had left without offering the explanations she had asked for, without telling her how he’d come to be there, but she no longer wanted to kn
ow. He was there. People would die. And he would learn of Mariyah’s fate.
The tea was still warm, so Loria poured another cup and held it to her lips. Nervous laughter erupted. Tea with the Blade of Kylor. Not many could boast of such an experience. Though they would not dare speak of it. Knowledge of his identity was enough to warrant death. Of course, he was no longer Kylor’s Blade. To his enemies, he had transformed into something far worse. He was the Blade of Mariyah.
* * *
Lem lay in the bed staring up at the silk canopy. He could hear the muttered grumblings of the guards standing outside the door. The man he’d incapacitated was well loved among them, and their anger would not lessen until the sedative had worn off.
He went over in his mind the route from the outer fence of the manor grounds to Mariyah’s chambers. Twelve. That was how many guards he could have killed. The look on Lady Camdon’s face upon discovering he was the Blade told him that she was struggling to understand why there weren’t twelve dead bodies. She clearly did not appreciate what he was; what being the Blade of Kylor meant. No one could.
Like all members of the church, Lady Camdon regarded him as a relentless killer. A holy instrument of death. The righteous fury of their god. He considered that perhaps he should have taken the time to explain the truth, or at least enough for her to understand that even if he’d been sent there to kill, twelve guards would still be alive. He did not slay the innocent. It was this self-deception that kept him sane. It was what kept him connected to a world where Mariyah could still love him.
It was no longer important that Mariyah had decided to stay, or that she had forced him out. Nothing mattered except finding her. The Blade of Kylor was no more. Something else had risen in its place, for which there was no name. And if there were, he would not dare speak it aloud.
Lem closed his eyes. Twelve lives had been spared. Twelve lives. Theirs would be the last.
21
THE GATE
To my loving husband,
We have won. But victory comes at a great price. Belkar slaughtered more than half our number in the battle. But in the end evil was conquered. I write you in haste and brevity because I too am a casualty of this terrible conflict. My injuries are beyond healing, and I can feel my life ebbing. Tell our children that their mother died with honor. It was I who dealt the final blow that sent Belkar to his eternal prison. Tell them to be proud of who they are and where they are from. But most of all tell them I love them now, and ever after. As for you, my husband: You already know where my heart belongs. It will remain with you until we see one another again. But do not be eager to join me. I will be ever patient. And ever faithful.
A Chorus of Fire Page 32
