Finally, he came to a crystal that was different from the others. It sat nearest to a window and a gold wire had been wrapped around it. Gently, he cupped the crystal with both hands, feeling a soft smile tug at his lips.
In the depths of the crystal formed the image of a young woman with long brown hair bound in a tight braid. Her large eyes were sad as she nibbled at her meal. She wore a beautiful blue gown, in the Southern style, but she plucked at the fabric every so often, as if she weren't used to it.
Clara. His Seer. Over the years, he had kept watch over her, keeping her safe as much as he could. And now, it was almost time. The apple was nearly ripe.
He looked over to the page. “That will be all for today, my boy. How is the book I gave you?”
“It's very good, your Majesty.”
“Have you gotten to the part where the hero forces his way into the tower?”
The boy's face split into a large grin. “Oh, yes, your Majesty. But I had to put the book away right after.”
“Well, run along, then, and finish it. You can tell me what you think of the end tomorrow.”
“Yes, your Majesty. Thank you, your Majesty.”
“Don't forget to take that list to the Finders.”
“Yes, your Majesty.” The boy bowed and left.
The door had barely swung closed when it opened again. Erin stepped into the room.
“Your Majesty,” he said, bowing. “I hope I'm not interrupting you.”
“No. No, not at all. In fact, come here.”
Erin crossed the room, carefully avoiding the crystals swinging slowly on their strings, and came to stand beside him.
“Look,” said Marduk. “Do you see her?”
Erin leaned forward, squinting. “Yes. I do.”
“Lovely, isn't she?”
“Very much.”
“I saw her when she was still a small child. Have I told you this story?”
“No, your Majesty.”
“Ah, well, my master loved to invent new spells and he charged me one day to invent a spell that would let me find those with strong abilities and aptitudes. It took me a long time but I perfected it. She was the first of such that I ever saw.”
“And is that why you chose her, your Majesty?”
“Partially.”
“It is an exquisite spell. It allows us to find more apprentices and make sure the Rebels don't get their hands on them. Truly brilliant. But if you've watched her over the course of her life, why do you need the bard?”
“Divide and conquer, my friend. You'd be amazed at what an ounce of broken trust can do, both to others and yourself. Her emotional turmoil and sense of abandonment are exactly what I will need.”
They stood in silence for a long moment. The shouts and laughter of children floated up through the windows. Marduk glanced at a candle clock and saw it was time for afternoon session to end at the academy.
“She looks sad,” said Erin, suddenly.
He sighed. “She does.” He dropped his hands. “She certainly does. Did you come to admire my crystals, my friend?”
“No, your Majesty, not just that. I have the report from the menagerie.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. The last batch of aerials is ready for flight.”
“Excellent. Schedule them for their first test in the morning. And make sure the Keepers aren't expecting me. I like surprising them.”
Erin smiled. “Yes, your Majesty.”
“Any other news?”
His smile slipped a little. “The Keepers are reporting a disturbing trend among the aerials.”
“What sort of trend?”
“They aren't as docile and easily controlled as we would like. And they are incredibly intelligent. The Keepers fear they may be developing minds of their own.”
Marduk frowned, considering this. “We'll watch them a while longer. They are beautiful creatures. I'd hate to have to destroy the whole breed.”
He started to weave through the maze of crystals, Erin falling into step behind him.
“Anything from our spy?” he asked.
“Yes, your Majesty. He expects them to be moving to Candor soon.”
“How soon?”
“He's not sure.”
He nodded as they reached the door. “Put our men in Emmerich's camp on alert. They will need to be ready to go at a moment's notice.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
Marduk looked one last time at Clara's crystal. “She'll be home soon. Make sure her room is ready.”
“Yes, your Majesty.”
A new slate sat beside her breakfast. Clara stared at it through one eye as she rubbed sleep from the other.
“His lordship,” said Cassie, “sent that up.” She looked her over, worry creasing her forehead. “Perhaps her ladyship should skip today's practice?”
Clara shook her head as she picked up the slate. Sleep eluded her last night. Every few moments, it seemed, she woke, staring into the dark as if searching for a face or answers. But now, in the bright, sane light of day, she couldn't hide in her chambers.
Walking away from the table, she started for the door.
“Don't you need to eat?” Cassie called after her but Clara was already out in the hall and striding away. Her guards hurried to catch up with her and she noted that Haggard wasn't among them. A small bit of angry joy bubbled up in her.
When she reached the practice area, she was surprised to find not Emmerich, but Captain Asher waiting for her.
“My lady,” he said, bowing. “The General has asked me to take up your practice sessions. He's drilling the new company and overseeing its new captain. Otherwise, I'm sure he would be here.” Asher smiled ruefully. “I know I'm a sorry substitute, but if her ladyship permits, I would be happy to teach you.”
She stared at him, feeling her plans for interrogating Emmerich fall apart. But there would be time later, she was sure. Straightening her shoulders, she nodded, and he led her into the nearest practice ring.
Asher was a much gentler tutor than Emmerich. She always had to watch out for any dirty tricks with him. He seemed to delight in leaving her sprawled in the dirt. But Asher's style was more gentlemanly, though his footwork was a study in chess and he quickly put her into positions that left her unable to defend herself properly.
At the height of the practice, with anger and blood singing in her ears and her limbs trembling from fatigue, she thrust, over-reached, and Asher knocked her to the ground. Clara, from her place on the ground, glared up at him as she gasped to catch her breath.
“Her ladyship is very good,” he said, grinning, looking barely out of breath. “Shall we try again?” He reached out with his hand.
Scowling, she took it. The moment his skin touched hers, light filled her eyes, blotting out everything. She raised her hands to block it out but the light shined through them. When it faded, she stood beside a bed in a chilly room.
The fireplace sat cold and empty and from outside came the cawing of crows. Turning, she looked down at the bed. Emmerich, pale and still, lay on top of the thick quilt, his hands crossed over his chest.
No.
She reached out, tentatively, and touched his cheek. It felt like ice.
No.
Light flared again and she stood in a grand throne room, grander than any Great Hall she had seen. Marble columns soared to an arched ceiling and giant red and gold banners fluttered in the cold breeze. A crowned man in a long, ermine-trimmed cape stood before her. He began to turn around and she wanted to scream for him to stop. She did not want to see because she knew who it wasn't.
“Clara.”
Emmerich's voice wafted over her and she nearly burst into tears. Turning away, for the first time in her life, she wrenched herself out of the vision. Later, she wouldn't know how she did it, only that the pain tearing through her was more than she could bear.
Clara blinked her eyes open. Emmerich knelt over her, his hands on either side of her face.
“C
lara,” he repeated. “What did you see?”
Sitting up, she pushed away from him, stumbling to her feet. He stood, letting her go. She barely noticed Asher and other men standing around them in a loose circle. The air felt hot and heavy and she shook and gasped under its smothering weight.
“Clara.” Emmerich's sharp voice cut through her encroaching panic. His hands grabbed her shoulders and squeezed tightly.
She squirmed, trying to break his hold.
“Hold still, girl. What did you see?”
Clara brought her arms up, quickly, breaking his hold. Before he could react, she ran, barreling through the men. Emmerich yelled after her but she kept running. She didn't stop until she reached her rooms, going through the sitting room and out onto the balcony.
Bracing herself against the railing, she breathed deeply until the shaking eased. The day, though hot, felt lesser so than it did down in the ring. Staring out over the forest and toward the mountains, she could almost believe what she had seen had been a mistake.
The door to her chambers opened and closed and she heard familiar footsteps cross the room out onto the balcony. She didn't need to turn around to know it was Emmerich.
“I brought your slate.” He set it on the railing.
She took it and looked down at the smooth black. They didn't speak for a long time. He was the first to break the silence.
“What did you see?”
Her eyes slowly rose to meet his. He stared at her dispassionately, his mouth set in a hard line. Taking out the chalk, she wrote, “Did you murder the Princess?”
Shock flooded his face as he read her words. “Who told you that?”
She pointed at her question.
“Who told you?” he shouted.
Clara winced, but kept pointing.
Some of the anger went out of him and an emotion she couldn't describe filled his eyes. It looked like sorrow and regret and hate rolling together into some black and ugly.
“Aye,” he said. “I did.”
Shocked, unthinking, her mouth moved and formed the word, “Why?” Breath gushed from her lungs and nearly voiced it.
He stepped closer. “It doesn't matter. What did you see?”
She stared up at him, feeling herself shattering and going numb under the weight of this truth. Fumbling, Clara pulled out her handkerchief, scrubbed away her question, and wrote, “I saw your death.”
Setting the slate on the table, she walked away. He didn't try to follow.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Days passed. Emmerich didn't try to make Clara come down from her chambers and when her maid tentatively asked for bolts of cloth and patterns, he granted the request without thinking. Later, he ordered for books and writing utensils to be sent to her rooms. Maybe he shouldn't encourage her self-imposed exile but he didn't want to be the one to break it.
What little camaraderie existed between him and the other captains faded. Even Asher seemed distant.
A se'ennight after the incident, Asher pointed out that they hadn't heard from Gavin.
Guilt stabbed through Emmerich. He should have noticed. But he had thrown himself into getting the army ready to move out. That was what he told himself, anyway.
“We have to assume, then,” Emmerich said, “that he's been captured. Or killed. This changes none of our plans, however.”
“My lord,” spoke up Captain Owen, “we should send a spy to Candor and learn what has happened.”
“No. We'll just risk another man. Asher, how soon can we move out?”
“In three days, my lord,” came the reply.
“Then let's prepare.”
Cassie came to stand by Clara as the lady worked on a new dress at her table. The lady had not left her rooms except for late evening walks in the gardens. Cassie worried for her mistress. Something had happened between her and the Lord General. But she would not speak of it.
“My lady,” she said, “I have received word that the army will be moving out to Candor. His lordship requests that you come with them.”
Clara made no move to acknowledge her words. Her fingers moved with confidence over the seam of the undergown.
“What shall I tell his lordship?”
Clara's hands stopped. After a moment, she picked up her slate and wrote, “I must have an answer to my question, first.”
“My lady, I assume he knows what you mean by that?”
She nodded.
Cassie, feeling confused, curtsied and went to the soldier that waited outside the room. She relayed the message before returning to sit by the fire. As she watched Lady Clara, Cassie reflected on how this all began when Haggard visited her. She wondered if she should bring that to his lordship's attention.
After a long while, someone knocked on the door and Cassie answered it. It was the soldier. He handed her a rolled bit of sealed paper.
“Thank you,” she said. “Does it require an answer?”
“No,” the soldier replied.
Cassie took the paper to Clara, who broke the seal and read it.
“Are we going to Candor, my lady?” she asked after a moment.
Clara stood, laid the paper on the table, and shook her head before going into her bedchamber, closing the door behind her. Cassie, who had never before pried into the private affairs of her mistresses, picked up the paper.
It simply read, “It does not matter. What is done is done.”
When Emmerich left Candor, he did not look back. He did not turn to see if a familiar figure watched him leave. He did not send one last message to bid farewell. He mounted his horse, gave the signal, and led his army down the long stretch of road to Candor City.
But that night, when he undressed in the privacy of his tent, he took a folded, sweat-stained cloth from where it had been tucked against his heart. Unfolding it, he stared down at the round medal that caught the lamplight like a promise.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Gavin listened to the wails of the tortured and imprisoned as he stared at the grimy stone wall across from him. Long scratches and furrows marked the stone and he knew, if the light was strong enough, he would see blood in the deep cuts where people tried to claw out of the room. People, driven mad by torture or listening to torture, had dug at the walls to find a way out. He wondered how far he was from that himself.
I betrayed her.
The thought echoed through his mind and he tried not to shudder. He had been captured before, but this was the first time they possessed something he actually cared about. Marduk was a monster, but if Gavin cooperated, Clara would come to no harm. And if Emmerich defeated Marduk, then it would all end well. In the end, he hadn’t betrayed her, but protected her.
Or so he kept telling himself.
Heavy boots tromped down the hall and he looked over as they came to a stop at his cell door. Keys jangled and the lock clanged. The door opened to reveal Erin, Marduk's right hand and Headmaster of the Academy, as well as several guards.
“His Majesty wishes to see you,” said Erin.
Gavin stood as guards came forward to unfetter his feet and lead him out. They took him up several flights of back stairs and down a narrow servant's corridor. Stopping at a door, Erin opened it and stepped inside the room.
“Your Majesty,” he said. “I have brought the prisoner.”
“Bring him in,” came the soft reply.
He was brought into a spacious room Gavin recognized as the study King Tristan liked to use for his daily business meetings with guildmasters and tradesmen. It looked exactly as Gavin remembered.
Marduk sat at the large desk, papers scattered in front of him. At his elbow stood a young page and to the side were several men in rich robes.
“You may go,” Marduk said to them. The page and the men bowed and left the room, one of them glancing back as he passed Gavin.
Silence enveloped the room when the main door closed. Marduk looked much the same as Gavin remembered. A man of average height, he had dark brown hair dusted with
silver, which he wore tied back. His eyes were dark brown, his face was broad and his nose slender, and his palms were wide with long fingers. He wore rich red robes. When he stood and came around the desk, Gavin saw he wore an elaborate emerald studded belt.
“Gavin, how are you?” asked Marduk, coming to stand in front of him. One expected a rich, velvety voice to match the face and Gavin always felt a tiny bit of surprise at hearing a soft tenor instead. “I wanted to thank you for the information you gave us about Clara.”
“I don't want your thanks,” Gavin replied.
Marduk smiled. “I have something more to ask of you. In return, I will not execute you. When Emmerich is defeated, I will simply exile you. And Clara with you.”
Gavin stared at him a long moment. “Why would you do that?”
“Why wouldn't I? I have no need for a Seer save to end this war. Once the war is over, and my position secure, I have no need for her.”
Gavin thought about that, letting the ramifications roll through his mind. “And if I don't do this?”
“Then not only will I kill you, but I'll slit her throat in front of you beforehand.” He said it as pleasantly as a greeting.
A chill swept over Gavin. “What do you want, usurper?” he asked.
A guard punched him in the gut, making him double over. “Don't talk to his Majesty in that manner,” the guard said.
Straightening, he coughed. “I'm only speaking the truth.”
“The truth,” said Marduk, “as you see it. But it is truth that I came to speak to you about. When Clara comes here, she's going to be full of questions. You're to answer them.”
“You honestly want me to do that?”
“Honestly? When Clara arrives, she's going to want to know about the Princess and Emmerich and perhaps a few other things. I want you to make Emmerich the hostile party. Given his temper, and choices, that won't be difficult. The story is already there. You have only to leave out a few details.”
“You want to be the hero of the story?”
“No. Not the hero. Just a man doing his duty. Most of all, however, I want Clara to doubt. You're a bard. You can do that.”
Clara Page 18
