Clara

by Suzanna J. Linton

  A blue-grey blur shot out of the murk toward her, swimming past at amazing speed. She jerked back as the creature twisted, returning to float just in front of her.

  It had the long tail of a fish, with a fin growing out of its back. The hands were so webbed as to barely deserve the name. More scales covered the stomach and chest. But the shoulders and head were like a person's. The eyes were large, round, and black. There was no nose. Gills opened and closed along the neck. The mouth opened, revealing rows of sharp teeth.

  Shuddering, she backed away.

  At the very back of the room were tall cages that stretched all the way to the ceiling. Trees had been made to grow, though how the wizards kept them alive, Clara couldn't even begin to guess.

  She stood and gazed into the leafy darkness but nothing moved. She remembered the strange bird she had seen on her first sight of Bertrand and turned away. She didn't want to see anymore. She couldn't bear to see anymore.

  Turning, she fled, but in her panic she turned down the wrong pathway. Stopping, trying to get her bearings, a grunt drew her attention to the side.

  In cages filled with rocks and on the rocks, shaggy, giant-footed men slept. The size of their feet in comparison with the rest of their bodies was almost comical and Clara wondered how they managed to walk. Dark stains covered their feet. It reminded her of the stained feet of the men and women who stomped grapes for wine.

  Jarrett's warning rang in her mind and Clara gagged, backing away. She remembered, suddenly, Asher talking about the sea people. Her shiver threatened to become a shake and she clasped her hands together. Gavin had lied to her–again. Why? To protect her? To aid Marduk?

  The door at the entrance suddenly opened and closed. Spinning, she listened to boots tromping along nearby. Was she supposed to be down here? If Captain Jarrett was a part of the Rebellion, then he made sure she would be down here, which meant there was something she needed to see.

  Turning, she raced away, her slippers barely making a sound on the stone floor as she slipped down yet another pathway. There were more sad-faced creatures–no, she corrected herself. There were more sad-faced people. Clara gulped back her bile as she tried to move silently.

  She stopped by a cage and listened. Two men were speaking but she didn't recognize either voice. The voices drifted past them along a different pathway and she edged down the aisle. Taking a moment to get her bearings, she found an aisle that bisected the room and eventually found her way back to the entrance without encountering the guards or wizards or whoever they were walking among the cages.

  The catlike guards turned to her curiously as she came out.

  “Are you well, my lady?” asked the one who had addressed her earlier.

  She nodded and, before they could ask another question, she walked away as quickly as possible. Later, Clara barely remembered her walk back to her rooms. But when she entered them, she immediately went to the bathing room and dry heaved over the hole in the floor meant for such refuse.

  What have I done? she wondered.

  It was some time before Clara's stomach settled and she splashed water onto her face. She had to leave. She had to escape. She needed to get back to Emmerich before–

  Someone walked up to the door of the bathing room. Turning, she looked frantically for a weapon when she heard Jarrett's voice say, “Lady Clara?”

  Her knees going weak with relief, she went to the door and opened it.

  He stared down at her, the dark shadows the room making deep wells under his eyes. “The menagerie is horrible, isn't it?” he said.

  Slowly, she nodded.

  “I think you need to sit.”

  Clara wasn't going to argue that. She let him lead her to the couch, where he sat her. “I would have taken you, but one of my partners objected. So he disguised himself as the King and ordered the guards to let you through if they saw you. And he cast a spell over me so I could follow you, see your reaction. I think it's safe to assume you aren't in the King's employ.”

  She shook her head, feeling disgusted with and hating herself. Whether or not Emmerich killed the Princess seemed suddenly irrelevant, knowing that Marduk was a monster.

  “All of those creatures,” he continued, “were once people. But Marduk changed them. He will use them in battle, when Emmerich gets here. There's a chest that he uses to do it. I've seen him use it.” He grimaced. “How it works, I don't know. We know he's working on some project that needs you, Lady Clara, but we can't guess how or why. Either way, he needs to be stopped.”

  She nodded, feeling her emotions beginning to settle and a strange calm stealing over her. She looked up at Jarrett.

  “Will you help us, my lady?”

  Clara nodded. A question suddenly occurred to her. She pointed to him, then downward, cocking her head and frowning.

  “Are you asking me about the menagerie?”

  She shook her head and pointed at him emphatically and pointed downward.

  “Uh. How did I come to be in here without raising suspicion?”

  She nodded.

  “Grappling hook. I climbed in through the balcony.” He nodded at the open door, which, in Clara's earlier panic, she hadn't noticed.

  Of course he did. That struck her as funny and she shook with silent laughter. If she had a voice, it would have sounded hysterical, she was sure.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Asher, exhausted, dropped into the chair, propping his feet up on the footstool. Leaning his head back, he breathed a deep sigh of relief to once again be back in his chamber.

  Though his status as Emmerich's First Captain allowed him to take a larger chamber, or even a whole set of chambers, he chose to room on the same floor as the other captains. His chamber was small but adequate. And since he had no lady to keep him warm at night, the small size of the bed was no problem.

  The thought of women reminded him of Clara and he hoped the young Seer was all right. Though he had barely known Clara, he recognized a strength and resilience in her quite like that of his own sister, who awaited his return to Seasong. It troubled him that Emmerich wasn't willing to at least send a spy to ascertain her condition, but he understood the wisdom behind it.

  At least, that's what he told himself when he defended the general to the other captains. Emmerich had been acting strangely ever since Clara had been taken. More and more of the responsibilities of bringing Candor under heel had fallen to him. In fact, he went all day that day without noting anything down to ask Emmerich, as he had done in the beginning. He knew that if he were to go see the General right then, he would be staring into nothing, morose and silent, unwilling to answer his questions beyond monosyllables.

  He must have loved her, Asher suddenly thought. He sat up more in his chair, suddenly feeling even more sorry for his general. It hadn't ended well the last time he had loved someone.

  Someone pounded on his door. Groaning, Asher got up and opened it. “Aye?”

  A soldier saluted him. “Captain, Haggard has just arrived.”

  “Haggard? He must have ridden night and day to get here so quickly.”

  “We believe he did, my lord. His horse died as soon as he dismounted.”

  Asher frowned. Any misuse of an animal detested him and he decided he would take Haggard to task for that. “Where is Haggard now?”

  “He was taken directly to General Emmerich.”

  “Thank you. You may return to your duties.”

  The soldier saluted again and marched off. Asher tugged on his tunic, ran a hand through his hair, and walked down the hall to see what news Haggard had brought.

  Someone knocked on his door and Emmerich slowly opened his eyes. He had been dozing and half-dreaming about Clara. He almost expected the mute Seer to walk in after he croaked, “Enter,” but it was only Haggard, grim and travel-stained.

  “I've come to give my full report, my lord,” he said. He had his hand on a pouch at his waist, and he shifted his weight.

  A prickle danced over Emmerich's
scalp and he struggled to sit up. The wound in his side pained him, causing him to fall back into the pillows.

  “Well,” he said roughly, “go on.”

  Haggard came closer to the bed, though he had not been bidden to do so. Again, there was that feeling of unease and warning, and Emmerich slipped a hand under his pillow, where he kept a dagger.

  “M'lord,” began Haggard, “it was a group of Captain Terrence's men. We think they may've been actin' under his orders.” His hand slid into the pouch.

  “Haggard, what do you have there?” He heard a commotion in the hall outside his door.

  Haggard lunged at him.

  Asher was halfway to Emmerich's chambers when Captain Wilhelm came running up to him.

  “Asher!” Patrick cried. “The spy, he's been found.”

  “What?” Asher grasped Wilhelm's shoulders as the captain came to an unsteady stop before him. “What are you talking about?”

  “The spy we thought had fled?”

  “Aye.”

  “He hadn't. He was imprisoned in a house near the Red Quarter.”

  “Who had captured him?”

  “Conspirators against Emmerich. They're Marduk's men.”

  “Was their leader there?”

  “No. The conspirators were killed but the spy was able to tell us everything. There was a plot, to kidnap both the Seer and Emmerich.”

  Asher felt the blood leave his face. “And did he know the leader's name?”

  “Their leader is the old swordsmaster, Haggard.”

  Asher swore and began running down the hall, yelling for guards.

  Wilhelm followed hard on his heels. “What is it?”

  “Haggard is with Emmerich now.”

  They climbed the last set of stairs, taking them two or three at a time. He yelled at soldiers in the hall to follow him. The guards flanking Emmerich's chamber door drew their swords in surprise.

  “Is Haggard in there?” demanded Asher.

  “Aye,” a few of the men answered but he was already dashing past them. He heard the tramp of nailed boots following him as he slammed open the bedchamber door.

  He was just in time to see a flash of light, then only an empty bed where Emmerich had laid.

  The portal opened in a burst blister of blue, depositing two figures onto the stone floor.

  The Rebel General, Emmerich rolled off of Haggard's body, a bloody dagger clutched in his hand. The old warrior gurgled as he choked on his own blood and Emmerich smiled grimly the sound.

  Erin gestured and black-robed wizards converged on Emmerich. He caught one in the groin with his foot as he twisted, rolled, and gained his feet. His teeth bared in battle rage, ignoring the wound at his side. Blood began to stain the white bandages. Emmerich raised the dagger, bellowing a challenge. But one of the wizards threw the sleeping dust into his face.

  He gagged on the air as his lungs constricted. Slowly, Emmerich sank to his knees, then slumped to the ground, unconscious.

  Erin smirked as he came forward. One of the wizards checked Emmerich's throat.

  “He sleeps,” he told Erin.

  “Good.” Turning, he nudged Haggard with his toe. “What of this one's brat?”

  “The White Sisters are tending her.”

  “Have her taken to the menagerie. His Majesty has been wanting to experiment on children.”

  “Aye, my lord.”

  When Emmerich woke again, he lay on a comfortable bed, dressed in new clothes, and he heard the distant twitter of birds. The room was small and the walls were stone. A fireplace sat to one side. He was also tied down with padded restraints.

  A maid was standing beside the bed, rolling soiled bandages.

  “Where am I?” he asked.

  The maid jumped. “Oh, my lord, you startled me.”

  “Where am I?”

  “You are in the Palace in Bertrand. King Marduk will be here shortly.”

  The maid gathered up the cloths and a basin of red water and left Emmerich. As soon as the door closed behind her, he started to pull at the restraints. But they were tightly tied and strong. He stopped when a sharp pain lanced through his side and across his chest.

  Looking around, Emmerich began to feel a little excitement. If he was in Bertrand, then he was near Clara. If he got free, he could find her and they could flee. Just as he started to pull on the restraints again, the bedchamber door opened and Marduk swept into the room.

  “Old friend,” he said. “I'm so glad that you've come to be my guest. And you gave me a guest-gift without meaning to do so! Ordering Haggard's death would have been annoying and you saved me the trouble.”

  Emmerich froze, feeling the old hatred stir in his heart. “Traitor,” he spat.

  “That, friend, depends entirely on what side of the battle you're on: the winning side, or the losing. From this side, I would say you're the traitor.” He picked up a cane bottom chair from where it sat by the wall and brought it over by the bed. Sitting, he crossed his legs and folded his hands over one knee. “Are you resting comfortably?”

  “Where is Clara? What have you done with her?”

  “Your Seer? All I've done is provide clothing, an entire wing for her use, a very well-trained lady's maid, and a heavy-handed dose of kindness from myself.”

  “She isn't some simpering whore you can pay off to do your bidding.”

  “No.” He bared his front teeth in an approximation of a smile. “No, she isn't that. What she is, though, is hurt, confused, and just about ready to believe anything I tell her. And she was that way before she even got here! I usually have to manipulate people into believing me. But she came here already made, like a Nativity gift. All she lacked was the bow.”

  “You manipulated her plenty, I'm sure.”

  “Well. A little. I am the one responsible for dropping the knowledge in her ear that you killed Monica. I told Haggard to be fuzzy on the reasons why. And, there were other things but they hardly matter.” Marduk smirked as he took in Emmerich's expression and he made a tut-tut sound with his tongue. “Still with the anger issues, eh?”

  “Let me out of these restraints, and I'll show you anger issues.”

  “You're acting like I slaughtered your whole family. Oh, wait! That's because I did.” He chuckled. “I suppose they should have helped my master when they had the chance.”

  Emmerich shook with fury and the need to strangle the sorcerer with his bare hands.

  “You should be proud of yourself. Not every man starts a war over the desire for vengeance.” He made a show of adjusting the cuff of his right sleeve, smoothing the fabric before rejoining his hands over his knee. “You haven't asked me about Gavin yet.”

  Emmerich choked back enough of his anger to say, “You haven't given me a chance to, yet.”

  “Well, I beg pardon, then.”

  “None given.”

  “You are a hard man, Emmerich. But, anyway. Gavin is well. Or, as well as anyone living in my dungeons can hope to be. He isn't being tortured. No, I got from him what I needed. When I've achieved my goals, he'll get what he deserves: a long drop and a short stop. Or maybe I'll tie him down on the ramparts of one of my castles and have his guts exposed for the ravens to eat?” He sighed. “I can't decide.”

  Emmerich knew if he kept Marduk talking, he would tell him everything. The man was egotistical, that way. “What have you gotten out of Gavin?”

  He snorted. “A promise to help me.”

  “I don't believe you. He would never—”

  “You're right. He would never. Except he fell in love. And when men fall in love, they do things they would never do. Now, enough about me. Lets talk about you.”

  “I have one last question.”

  “Just one? Oh, all right. I'm in such a generous mood today.”

  “What are your goals? You have Lorst. What more can you possibly want?”

  A dark, hungry look filled Marduk's eyes and Emmerich shivered at the evil that suddenly peered down at him. “Oh, why shoul
d I tell you when you will very shortly see for yourself? You're a big part of my plans, dear friend, and I'd hate to ruin the surprise. Now, ask me why I brought you here.”

  Emmerich glared up at him for a long moment, thinking about telling him where he could put that smirk. But he swallowed back the urge. “Why have you brought me here?”

  “Because Clara must be free to choose. And in order for that to happen, you must be dead.” He stood. “Goodbye, dear friend.”

  Marduk walked away but stopped at the door and turned around. “Monica was my best apprentice. I swore I would get my revenge upon you, Emmerich. And today I will. Just as you took something precious from me, I take something precious from you.”

  He left the room and a moment later, two wizards entered, one of whom carried a small chalice. Emmerich began to struggle wildly against his bounds but it was no use. As the wizards closed in, he thought of Clara.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Asher stared at the place where General Emmerich had laid.

  “I'll have the city searched,” said Captain Wilhelm.

  “No need,” Asher replied. “Emmerich is not here. No, he's in Bertrand now, at the mercy of the usurper.”

  The soldiers behind them exchanged looks and low mutters. Asher knew it wouldn't be long before news of this spread to the entire camp, even if he ordered the men there to secrecy. He turned to Wilhelm.

  “Assemble the captains,” he said. “We will meet in the council room.”

  “My lord.” Wilhelm saluted and left.

  Asher reassigned Emmerich's guard and dismissed the other soldiers who had followed him before walking to the council room. He didn't wait long once he arrived.

  “What is going on?” demanded Herne. “Wilhelm is babbling about Emmerich being kidnapped.”

  The other captains gathered in a loose circle around him and Asher.

  “He has been,” Asher confirmed.