Stones Unbound (The Magestone Chronicles Book 1)

Home > Other > Stones Unbound (The Magestone Chronicles Book 1) > Page 14
Stones Unbound (The Magestone Chronicles Book 1) Page 14

by Richard Innes

The small woman paled further. “My name is Zazaril, head of the Dar'Shilaar Embassy in your fine city –“

  “We know who you are! Get on with why we shouldn’t arrest you four, and throw him back in his cell,” interrupted the First Chancellor with a heated look at the Dar'Shilaar, and a gesture at Hoyle. The Emperor didn’t see the look, or didn’t care. He laid a hand on the shoulder of the First Chancellor, calming him. With a look, the Emperor bade Zazaril to continue, heat in his gaze.

  “As I was saying, as head of the Embassy, I assigned these three to investigate the theft of a shipment of quafa'shilaar - magestones, from the Embassy. I have been since informed that the trail led to the Goralon Merchants' Guild. These three took it upon themselves to go investigate by themselves, without orders. It landed them in a difficult situation.” Zazaril had her hands on her lap, presenting a calm facade that Hoyle could see through. She was frightened.

  Hoyle actually could not physically stop himself from emitting a sharp burst of laughter. Being tortured for the better part of a week – a difficult situation indeed! Even now, still kneeling as he was, his legs were cramping badly. He did not know if he could stand if he was ordered to. He got a cuff across the back of his head for his outburst. The Emperor merely glanced at the guard, who immediately stepped back.

  “Continue,” ordered the Emperor.

  “My investigators managed to discern some possibly valuable information, other than the fact the thieves were Goralonian. One was a powerful warlock, who has managed to combine ancient Goralon blood rituals with quafa'shilaar - magestones. My investigators were lucky to survive.” Zazaril looked at the First Chancellor out of the corner of her eye.

  Hoyle was confused. Apparently, Celia had not brought her superior in on her suspicions of his part in the theft of the stones. At least, that appeared to be the case so far. He was missing some piece of the puzzle.

  The Emperor touched an earring on his left ear, and it flared briefly before settling itself back to its normal swirling appearance. The Emperor turned and faced him. “How did you escape your cell?” he inquired brusquely.

  “I had help, your Eminence. It was after an attack by the same warlock who attacked the three of us in the guild tower. He was freeing his ally in the other cell, who was captured in the raid also.” He had nothing but the truth to hide behind – at least in this particular matter.

  “How do we know what you say is true?” His voice was powerful, demanding. He had not moved from the foot of the throne.

  “Beg your pardon, your Eminence, but you’ll just have to take my word for it.” He ventured. He wouldn’t go back to the cell; he would rather die before that happened. I have nothing to lose. The Emperor looked at him with his penetrating grey eyes, locking eyes and wills. Hoyle did not flinch even though this man could order his death with a word. He did, however, look away after a short time, unable to stand the powerful, scrutinizing gaze. He felt as if his soul was being laid bare before this man, and he did not want to visit those memories.

  “But, you see, I don’t have to,” the Emperor stated. Hoyle flinched at those words, expecting the worst. He looked at the Emperor in confusion mixed with fear. The Emperor gestured to one of the guards, and then turned and sat back down on the throne, adjusting his robes absently as they waited. The Emperor, once settled, gestured to the First Chancellor.

  “I have had a brief discussion with these women here,” the First Chancellor started, gesturing at Celia, Hicks, Salrissa and Zazaril, who was apparently the head of Celia’s embassy, and therefore most likely her superior. “They have filled us in on your ‘investigation’, and feel it may be related to other incidents that have occurred in the City.”

  The guard returned to the room, ushering three figures into the audience chambers; Robart was walking stiffly using wooden crutches to support himself with the help of the healer that tended Hoyle’s wounds after each session of torture. Walking a couple of paces behind the pair was a smaller figure – Sathran. He looked at Hoyle and smiled, shrugging his shoulders. At his appearance, the First Chancellor started.

  “What is that slave doing here?! Remove him immediately!” the First Chancellor ordered. The guard escorting the trio turned red in embarrassment, and grabbed Sathran’s shoulder and turned him from the room, smacking his head and kicking his behind to hurry him to the door. Hoyle noted the Emperor’s complete lack of interest. As things settled down, Robart and the healer moved to stand in front of, though several paces back from, the throne. The First Chancellor addressed Robart, “What have you to say about this man?” He nodded his head towards Hoyle.

  “Tough son-of-a-bitch,” Robart stated.

  The First Chancellor cleared his throat nervously and glanced sideways at the Emperor. “I meant towards his character,” he directed further.

  Robart turned his head a little, and looked at Hoyle from the corner of his eye. What he had to say was not something he wanted to admit, it was clear from his stalling, he was trying to avoid it.

  “Captain, you will respond.” It was an order, not a question.

  “He helped me and I lived, when he could have left me to die.” Robart looked like he had eaten lemons. He appeared to be having trouble standing steady. The healer was steadying him with one hand.

  The First Chancellor looked at the healer, a Daughter of Saveesha by her holy symbol – a crescent moon, and asked “Do you concur? Is that what happened?”

  “It is a little more involved than that. He not only bound the captain’s wounds, which would not have saved his life directly, he sent someone to fetch me. Had I not arrived when I did to heal him, the captain would not have survived,” the diminutive woman answered quietly. “There was also, of course, the other bodies that were found in the corridor, slain with magic of some sort. This also lends credit to the story, if I overheard correctly, that a warlock freed the other prisoner. I believe the captain will agree to this version of events.” The captain grunted.

  “That will be all Daughter.” The First Chancellor looked mildly annoyed. Hoyle suspected that he did not like making mistakes, much less having them aired in front of the Emperor.

  As the guards escorted the large man and small healer away, the Emperor made a subtle gesture, and the First Chancellor signalled to the guards. “Take them away!”

  Chapter 14

  At the First Chancellor’s dismissal, Celia just about fainted, clutching her quafa'shilaar amulet tightly in her fist. The guards surrounded the five of them, and helped them to their feet. The group was then led off through one of the many doors located in small alcoves around the perimeter of the room. Once through the door, they were herded down a short corridor with doors on each side to a ‘T’ intersection at the end, a hallway going both left and right. They were ushered through a door across from the hall from which they had come. Celia caught a quick glimpse of stairs down the hallway on the left, but no more, before she was led, not ungently, into the room.

  As soon as the guards left, locking the door behind them, Hicks and Salrissa immediately pulled Hoyle into a corner of the room and began talking in whispers. Celia looked him over. He looked different than she had last seen him; a little harder, less flamboyant. He had several new visible scars on his face, one from left ear to chin, and one from above his right eye down to his mouth. His right eye was still intact, but it was apparent that his nose had been broken at least once, and healed slightly off. She was surprised to find his new look lent him a heroic air.

  She had time to survey the room, as the two women did not appear interested in including her in the conversation any time soon. You would have thought they would be more grateful with Celia managing to get them up to the sky citadel, and an audience with the Emperor himself. Zazaril had only implied that they would be able to get to see the First Chancellor. She thought back to that morning after she had told Zazaril what she wanted.

  Zazaril had been speechless for quite a while, her mouth opening and closing without a sound. “You wan
t what?!” she exclaimed in disbelief when she found her voice.

  “I want you to help me and two friends get up to the Imperial Sky Citadel and talk to someone in charge to try and find a mutual acquaintance. I figured with your position as head of the Embassy, you would be able to find a way. Was I wrong?” Celia could not believe she was being so bold, and with her mentor to suit.

  Zazaril moved to the east window looking down the Trade Way towards the Eastern Trade Gate. She was tapping her fingers on the window sill, lost in thought. “You were not wrong.”

  “So you can get us up to speak to someone about our missing friend?” Celia sounded hopeful.

  “I thought you said he was an acquaintance?”

  “My acquaintance, but my acquaintances’ friend.” Celia rebutted in a neutral tone.

  “I will see what I can do. No promises. After the ruckus and alarms from the citadel last night, I suspect that it will be on lock-down, but I will try. I will have you sent for once I know more.”

  “Thank you,” Celia offered as she left the room. Zazaril was still staring out the window as she eased the door closed.

  A short time later, Wendinard arrived at her table in the parlour where she was reading one of her tomes and drinking some tickleberry tea. It reminded her of home, and her mother. A home she could never return to, a home her father had banished her from when she had decided that she wanted to try her hand at magic rather than take over the running of the estate. Celia had assumed it might be Zazaril, but instead Wendinard directed her to the side of the main petitioner hall where two women were waiting for her.

  On the short walk down the hall, she smiled. At least this time, at her direction, they asked for Wendinard directly, a person who sometimes just shows up as soon as his name is heard, a person whom the clerks would not be afraid to call upon. When she found the two women, Celia did not recognized Salrissa at first in her white fur wrap and white, ankle-length, flowered dress with deep neckline and red bow in her hair. She had some rouge on her cheeks and something dark accenting her eyelashes. She looked about as deadly as one of the flowers on her dress.

  Hicks was still in her normal attire, cloak over leather vest, over tight, brightly coloured blouse, with dark, ankle-length, heavy skirt over black leather boots. She smiled at Celia’s reaction to Salrissa’s appearance. “That was my reaction the first time I saw her this way too,” she said gently lifting Celia’s drooping chin closed with one finger. “Didn’t even know she owned a dress.”

  Salrissa scowled slightly, but then transformed her face with a sweet, innocent smile, over which she batted her eyelashes. The effect was startling. “Easier to collect flies with honey, or some such nonsense,” Salrissa offered, her face returning to its now normal exhausted, haunted look. “Why anyone would want flies is anyone’s guess...” she muttered wryly under her breath as Celia led them back to the parlour.

  Celia sent to the kitchen for tea for the other two women, it still being mid-morning. Along with the tea, the kitchen sent biscuits and two types of jam. The women all partook of the repast, eating slowly, each still a little uncomfortable in the other’s company. Each woman watching the others without speaking, staying within their own thoughts.

  Celia could still not believe the transformation that Salrissa had undergone, from an unapproachable Valkiir leopard to this... this... garden flower. At least outwardly. She suspected this was all something to do with the fact she was a former Sister of Kass, and that there was a chance they would be travelling to the Imperial Sky Citadel. Maybe she was afraid of being recognized?

  The summons from Zazaril arrived a short time after the trio had begun, unsuccessfully, to attempt some small talk. The attempted topics were the spring weather and the closed Goralonian border. The clerk led them down to the lower level rather than up to Zazaril’s study; the lower level that which housed the vault, the small library archives, and the gate room. The latter was where the clerk led them.

  The room was large, about five spans each direction, and standing near one wall was the gatal'shilaar - the magegate. The magegate was a large, gold arch, a span and a half tall, a span wide, holding five quafa'shilaar the size of a person’s fist, glowing azure, garnet, vermillion, white, and violet. Standing just in front of the magegate was Zazaril in her stylish travelling cloak and gown. Several wood benches were set against the walls, and several closed wardrobes stood in one corner. These contained extra outerwear in case the destination seen through the magegate indicated foul weather.

  Celia turned to watch the other women’s faces as they saw a magegate up close for the first time, or at least she assumed to be their first time. Hicks seemed to be slightly awed, stepping a few paces closer, while Salrissa stayed near the door, wary.

  “Zazaril, may I introduce you to my acquaintances, Reegan Hicks and Salrissa?” Celia gestured to each woman in turn. “Hicks, Salrissa, this is the head of the embassy, Zazaril.”

  The women all nodded to each other without speaking. Celia went to one of the wardrobes and borrowed a light travelling cloak, as she had not returned to her room for her own.

  Zazaril looked at the inert magegate uncertainly, and then turned to the other two women, though her gaze included Celia. “You must be very careful where we go now. One improper word or gesture could have you imprisoned... or executed. I have made arrangements with the First Chancellor to meet with him to talk about your friend’s release, but he wasn’t very forthcoming. He seemed distracted. Based on the alarm bells from up there last night, I suspect something untoward occurred, meaning every word or gesture is potentially that much more dangerous. Does everyone understand?” Her gaze swept the group.

  Everyone nodded.

  Zazaril turned and faced the gatal'shilaar. Intoning words of activation, unique to each gate, the quafa'shilaar flared to life. Zazaril raised her hand and touched the stones quickly in a series, each magestone flaring brightly as it was touched. Celia made sure to commit the pattern to memory. As the magegate activated, she felt something draining her of energy and tried to brace against it. Hicks groaned next to her, and even Salrissa was gritting her teeth, she noted. The center of the portal wavered, clouds swirling in a vortex at the center and then it instantly stilled - clearing. It now showed a view of a courtyard as though through clear glass.

  Zazaril stepped through, followed by the rest of the women, Salrissa coming last.

  ---o---

  Now they were locked in a room in the Imperial Sky Citadel. Granted, they had left no guards within the room, but Celia was certain that several were posted outside. The room was octagonal, decorated in shades of grey and crimson, with simple striped tapestries hanging on the wall to dampen the chill emanating from the stone walls. A thick rug with geometric patterns in the same colors covered the floor. A fireplace stood quietly crackling on one wall, flanked by windows to each side through which daylight was streaming in, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air.

  Two armchairs were placed in front of the fireplace facing each other, and a divan large enough to seat three was arranged against one wall. A small desk was against another wall nearby. There were no other doors to the room other than the one they came through.

  Hicks and Salrissa were deep in conversation with Hoyle as far from the door as possible, in front of the right-hand window. Every once in a while they would look over at her, and less often Zazaril who by now was seated in the armchair on the opposite side of the fireplace from the trio. She was wringing her hands in her lap. Celia had never seen Zazaril nervous before, and it was scaring her.

  She stood by the desk, examining the two ornate stained-glass oil lamps sitting on each corner – she was too nervous to sit and it was apparent that the trio of friends did not want her interrupting their quiet conversation.

  Eventually the trio finished their discussion, which seemed to have turned into a debate by the end, and split apart. Hicks sat in the other armchair across from Zazaril, though did not look at her, but pulled out
a small notebook and began to make notations with a small stick of charcoal. Salrissa began pacing the room, again reminding Celia of the Valkiiran leopard in the cage. That was apparently her nervous habit. At that thought, she forced her hand down from her amulet that she was clutching desperately. Have I managed to get us into more trouble?

  Hoyle walked towards her slowly as she stood by the desk. She turned to face him, unsure of what to expect. He rubbed his hands down his now scarred face as he stopped in front of her.

  “Thank you,” he said quietly. “No matter what else happens, thank you for coming for me.”

  “You should be thanking Salrissa; she did most of the legwork to determine where you were not. She didn’t stop until Hicks and I confronted her.” She replied just as quietly, looking over at the pacing woman. The pacing looked out of place in her white flowered dress showing ample cleavage.

  “Yes, well I did,” he began with a small smile, “and she told me how you confronted her. I’m surprised that you aren’t wounded, actually.”

  "Well, yes, that wasn’t the smartest move on my part,” she confessed. Hoyle laughed loud enough that the others looked over at them. “But she was being a stubborn, pig-headed mule.” Hoyle’s smile was wide as he covered his mouth to stifle another laugh. “Well, she was!” Celia reiterated.

  “But you were the one that managed to get all of you up here, and turn the tables. I had escaped, temporarily, but I was trapped up here with no way down. Now, at least, I won’t be hunted as a fugitive, and have a way down. Assuming we actually survive the next few hours,” he finished wryly.

  “Yes, well... there is that,” Celia replied. By this point Salrissa and Hicks had moved to the middle of the room. Zazaril was still seated in one of the armchairs. Celia and Hoyle made their way over to the duo, and she stood so that the group was forced to include Zazaril in conversation.

  She looked at her mentor, who had managed to stop herself from wringing her hands. “What should we be expecting?” Zazaril remained staring into the distance, lost in thought. Celia stood in front of her and snapped her fingers.

 

‹ Prev