by West, Shay
Senda's throat closed, and he bolted for the manor, fearing he now knew what Anali had meant with the gesture. There was a large gathering outside the home, crying and wailing.
“What happened here?” Senda grabbed a male servant who seemed to have some control of his faculties.
“No one is sure. Lady Jaenet ordered her lunch and said she wanted to eat alone. When her chambermaid went to take the dishes away, they found her dead in her solar. There was a large bulge in her throat so it's likely she choked to death.”
Senda closed his eyes, his mind conjuring the image of Anali pulling his finger across his throat. It's my fault! He turned and headed back to the castle, unwilling to stay and see her body as it was brought out. The guilt weighed him down, so much so that he had a hard time putting one foot in front of the other.
I should have stayed away. Suasor will never forgive me. Suasor. Senda realized the man's life was in danger now if he came back from the task Lucian has sent him on. If he isn't dead already.
Senda went to one of the storage rooms and shut the door, laying his head on the wood, trying to slow the beating of his heart. He didn't know what to do. His only ally was dead. And her husband would surely be next. Senda has no means of getting a message to Suasor. Any messenger leaving would have to be cleared through the guards, and that would alert Anali.
As he stood there, the sound of footfalls reached his ears. They stopped right in front of the door. He backed up when the person standing outside didn't knock. It's the Mystic.
Suddenly, the door burst in, and Senda cried out and flung his hands up to protect his face from flying wood splinters. He fell backward and back-pedaled as Anali walked calmly into the room, his face pale, eyes flashing madness and glee.
“I tried to get the lady to talk before I had to kill her. She refused to tell me what you two spoke about.” Anali placed his hands behind his back as he stared down at Senda. “Perhaps I will get what I want from you.”
“What are you doing?” said a voice coming from behind the Mystic.
Senda looked around Anali to see Lucian standing in the doorway to the storeroom, face drawn into a scowl. This scowl was one that Lucian wore when he thought someone was being wronged somehow. Senda felt a rush of hope.
“Just having a conversation with your manservant about what he was doing at Jaenet's home earlier today.”
“I told you I would handle this.”
“Just trying to help, my Lord.” Anali turned and brushed past Lucian.
Senda got up when the Mystic was gone. He kept his eyes averted. I have never been afraid of Lucian before.
“I had to take steps to stop what she was planning. You understand that, right?” Lucian pleaded. “I can't let Suasor gain support and take my kingdom from me.”
“The man is loyal to you. He has no desire for the throne.”
“He does! The scheming son of a rat has had his eye on my throne for some time. Anali opened my eyes to the man's treachery.”
“What proof does Anali have? If Suasor wanted to overthrow you, he could have done it while you were ill. Have the other Lords come forward accusing him of deceit?”
“Anali can see into the greedy hearts of men. He has shown me. That is all the proof I need.” Lucian grabbed Senda by the front of his tunic, pulling him so close their noses almost touched. “Now tell me true, what were you doing at Jaenet's?”
Senda couldn't breathe. Lucian's grip pulled his collar so tight he felt it digging into his flesh. He clawed at Lucian's fist. His vision darkened as his body fought for air.
“Answer me, blast you!” Lucian dropped Senda but stood in front of the terrified manservant, blocking his exit through the shattered doorway.
“I was afraid for my safety. I overheard you and the Mystic speaking about letting me go. I needed someone to talk to, someone I could trust.” Senda coughed and wheezed as he lay on the floor.
Lucian's jaw tensed, veins standing out on his forehead and neck. “You have always been able to trust me.”
“I always thought so,” Senda said carefully. “But when my Lord is talking with another about no longer needing my services, then it makes me wonder. If you were displeased by my performance, you should have talked to me about it.” He hoped guilt would finally get through.
“I am not displeased. Anali said…”
“I don't care what Anali said. You are my Lord, not the Mystic.”
Lucian paused, and for a moment, he looked like the old Lucian, the one Senda served faithfully and wanted to serve until the good Spirits came for him. “If you stayed to listen, you would have heard me say that I had no intention of letting you go.”
Senda bit his tongue and did not admit he had heard that part. He thought it best that Lucian think his fear of his job was all that brought him to Jaenet's door. Perhaps Suasor can still help.
“I had to get rid of Jaenet. She sent a secret message to Suasor. I know her man rode for the ferry this morning. What else could he be doing?”
The silence dragged on for what seemed an eternity. Lucian finally turned on his heel and strode out of the storeroom. “Have someone fix the door and clean up this mess.”
Senda sat on the floor long after the sound of Lucian's footsteps had disappeared. His sense of duty drove him to his feet. He had been doing Lucian's bidding for so long that the thought of not following orders ever crossed his mind.
He ordered several servants in the hallway to clean up the splintered wood and to re-arrange the messy stockroom. Senda went in search of someone in the village to make a new door. As he walked outside, he looked in the direction of Suasor's manor, and the full impact of what had happened that morning hit him like an anvil dropped from the sky. He shuffled into an alley between two rows of shops and slumped against the wall, tears flowing freely, his body wracked with sobs.
The tears eventually stopped, leaving Senda drained and exhausted. He stood on wobbly legs and made his way slowly through the streets. The home of the carpenter, Mikael, was near the shore, situated in a little stand of scraggly aspen trees that somehow managed to cling to life despite the less-than-ideal environment. He agreed to come to the castle straightaway to begin repairs.
Senda left before Mikael could think to ask why he needed to replace the door rather than just repair it. The manservant was too emotional to have a conversation about what had occurred in that room. Weariness almost overwhelmed him as he realized that he would be expected to serve at the feast this evening.
Surely Lucian won't have guests after the tragedy. Senda couldn't count on this so he hurried back to the castle to begin readying the banquet hall.
FIVE
RELIEF FLOODED SENDA when Neli informed him that the feast had been cancelled in light of Jaenet's death.
“Poor woman. Suasor is going to be devastated when he learns of this,” Neli said.
Senda merely nodded. He did not voice his concerns about Suasor even hearing of her death before Anali had him killed. “Is Lucian taking supper in his chambers then?”
“He and Anali left a short time ago to see to the burial arrangements for Jaenet. He didn't say anything about supper.”
“Have someone send for me the minute they arrive back in the castle. And be ready to fix a late meal.” Senda left, wondering what to do with his free time for the evening. The aches in his body decided for him. He shuffled to Lucian's solar and climbed into his pallet, not even bothering to change into his nightshirt. Lucian might require his services when he returned and he didn't want to waste time dressing.
Even though his body was exhausted, fear of Anali and Lucian kept him awake. He hated to admit that he was afraid of the man he had served for so many years. I have never feared Lucian before. Not even when he was at his most angry. Senda's imagination conjured images of Anali standing over his sleeping body, poisoned dart in hand, ready to strike. He wished he could sleep elsewhere, but he knew it could never be. As Lucian's manservant, he was required to sleep in his L
ord's chambers.
He lay in the dark, listening for the pad of footsteps outside the door or any sound to indicate that someone was approaching. His muscles thrummed with nervous energy. Senda wanted to weep. His body cried out for sleep, but his mind was too afraid. Perhaps I should run away, leave the island.
Senda wondered where he would go, how he would make a living. It was not easy for a man his age to find work. He was not built for manual labor; he was short and slight of build with hands more used to dressing his Lord than plowing or wielding a hammer. He sighed. If I go, who will save Lucian from the Mystic's clutches? Senda knew he couldn't leave his Lord behind to whatever fate Anali had in store for him.
His body's need for sleep finally won out, and Senda drifted into a restless doze.
* * *
Senda's eyes flew open, startled to see the sun shining in through the window. He jumped up and looked in the Lord's bedchamber. The bed had not been slept in. He opened the door, scaring the half-asleep guard out of his wits.
“Where is Lucian?”
“He never came in last night. I assumed he was about his duties.” The man yawned.
“You mean you fell asleep and are just now aware that your Lord isn't where he should be,” Senda said. He pointed a finger at the man's chest. “You had better hope nothing has happened to Lucian.”
The young guard gulped, his face turning pale. Senda turned on his heel and headed toward the kitchen. If Lucian had returned, he would have needed to eat. He found Neli and the scullions subdued and quiet. Normally, the kitchens would be bustling with activity, with Neli yelling over the banging of pots and the gossip and chatter.
“Where is Lucian? He did not come to his bedchamber.”
Neli turned to Senda. “He returned early this morning.”
“I left instructions to wake me!”
“Anali came and told us not to wake you. He told me Lucian would punish me for disobeying.”
So Anali gives orders now? “Where are they?” Senda gritted his teeth.
“Out in the courtyard. Senda,” Nali whispered, “they brought Suasor back with them. Lucian ordered his craftsmen to build a gallows. He said…” She paused here, barely able to speak the words. “He said, ‘Suasor would hang for treason within the hour.’”
“Treason? What treason? The man was on Lucian's errand!”
“I do not know. I only know what I overheard. Senda, I am frightened.”
“Me too.” Senda wished he had words to comfort the head cook but he had none to give. “I will find Lucian and try to stay this madness.”
If Lucian was going to hang Suasor, that meant he had stripped the minor Lord of his land and title. Lords and Ladies were beheaded when they committed treason. Hanging was reserved for commoners. Neli must have heard wrong. Perhaps Lucian is building something and a servant let their imagination get away from them. No one had ever been killed on the island. There had never been a need. The worst punishment Senda could remember Lucian meting out was cutting off the hand of a man caught stealing from Lucian's larders. Senda recalled that Lucian had been heartbroken but had let none of it show. He could not allow stealing to go unpunished.
Senda could only remember a handful of people that had been banished from the island. Lucian chose this penalty rather than hanging or flogging. He did not like the public spectacle of capital punishment
He ignored the rumbling of his belly and made his way out into the courtyard to see for himself what Lucian and the Mystic were up to. He found them standing before a large crowd. Suasor was on the platform, the noose already around his neck. The man looked as though he didn't have the strength to raise his head. His silvery hair hung down, covering his face.
The old Lucian would have never done something like this! He was ashamed of his Lord at that moment. Lucian seemed to be taking a perverse pleasure in seeing Suasor bound and the crowd was eager for him to hang.
“Senda! Did you hear? Suasor was planning on bringing back soldiers from Faerow to overthrow Lucian!” A young stable boy was practically jumping up and down in delight.
“There has to be some mistake. Suasor was going to take Lucian's gold to Laevanya.” Senda said the words as much to convince himself and the young lad.
He tried to make his way through the crowd but the people were packed in tight, all striving for the best vantage point to see Suasor hanged. Senda couldn't believe that these were the same gentle people he had known most of his life. Surely they don't think Suasor is capable of plotting and scheming! Senda knew the Mystic had to be behind this, but he wasn't sure how.
Lucian was walking up the stairs to stand next to Suasor. He turned to the crowd and held up his hands for silence. “Today is a sad day, a dark day. Someone I once trusted and called friend has betrayed me. I take no pleasure in what I must do.”
Senda wanted to rush to the gallows and demand to know what treasonous act the man had done, but his throat locked tight and he couldn't move. He walked toward the platform and stopped when he saw Anali looking right at him. Normal men would never have been able to pick out a man in that thick throng, but Senda knew the Mystic was keeping him from reaching Lucian. The minute he stopped moving, he could breathe again.
I must stop this folly! He tried to duck behind larger men, sneak around women's skirts, but each time he moved forward even the tiniest bit, his throat constricted. Tears of frustration and fear fell from his eyes. None of the people near him even noticed. They only had eyes for the spectacle taking place on the gallows.
Lucian moved away from Suasor. Suasor looked up and narrowed his eyes. “I wish to see this letter you claim my wife sent to me. If I am to die like a commoner, I deserve to face my accuser and to see the evidence of my guilt.” He looked directly at Anali as he spoke.
“As you wish.” He held out his hand, and Anali gave him the rolled parchment.
Senda quaked. He knew what the letter contained. He had been there when Lady Jaenet had written it.
Lucian placed the letter under Suasor's nose so he could read it. His face blanched when he got to the end. “This is not possible. It must be a forgery. My Lord, I swear to you, I have no desire to rule the island!”
Lucian flipped the letter. “A forgery, you say?” He shook the parchment fiercely. “This is your sigil, is it not?”
Suasor's mouth worked, but no sound came out. The sigil was indeed that of his house. He had used the old ring many times to seal important letters.
“There must be some mistake…” Suasor's voice had lost most of its fire.
“The contents have been authenticated by three separate parties and they all agreed this sigil is indeed that of your house,” Lucian said.
“I was only going to check on the delivery of the gold, like you ordered. I wasn't planning on asking for troops from Laevanya, I swear it.”
“The words in the letter say otherwise.”
Senda knew the letter said nothing about troops or even mentioned Laevanya. As far as he could remember, Jaenet had written of Anali's wish that Suasor and Senda be let go and to warn him to be careful.
Dear Spirits, don't let this man die!
Lucian stood to the side and gave the hangman the signal to ready Suasor for his final moments. Senda didn't bother to move forward. He knew Anali would use his power to stop him. He wished he could signal the man somehow, to let Suasor know that he had a friend and ally.
Senda was stunned by the attitude of the crowd. They were poised, ready for blood. He wondered if the Mystic wasn't using his magic to make the people pliable. Suasor was well-loved; people should have been up in arms about this hanging.
Yet here they stood, faces pulled tight in anger and indignation, fists raised to Lucian, screaming for the hangman to get on with it. Even the children joined in.
A drum roll began as the hangman took his place next to the lever. A hush fell over the crowd. Senda wanted to scream at them, beg them to stop this madness. He looked at Anali. The Mystic stared back, a s
light smile curling one side of his mouth.
Anger burned in Senda's chest and radiated to his arms and legs. His skin felt flushed and his heart raced; his hands curled into fists and his eyes narrowed. No matter what I have to do, I will save my Lord from you, you bastard.
The drum roll abruptly stopped, and Senda forced himself to watch the scene unfolding before him. He would not turn away from the man whose death he had inadvertently caused. Suasor stood, regal and tall, refusing to show any weakness. Senda swore he could see tears on the man's cheeks. You will be reunited with Jaenet soon.
The hangman waited for a nod from Lucian before pulling the lever. The floor dropped from beneath Suasor's feet, and he fell, the rope going taut. Senda couldn't see the man; the crowd was too thick. As soon as Suasor fell, they had erupted in cheers that nearly deafened the manservant. All Senda could see was the rope twitching and jerking as Suasor slowly choked to death.
The movement of the rope ceased. When Suasor stopped moving, the crowd began to fidget and become restless. Many left, going back to their daily routines. Senda stood and watched them go, wondering how they could go back to operating their shops or working in their fields after watching a man hang. Most had never seen such a thing, and yet they behaved as though hangings were such a common occurrence that it hardly warranted a second glance.
As the curtain of people moved aside, Senda got his first look at Suasor dangling at the end of the rope, arms hanging limply at his sides, swaying slightly. The creaking and groaning sounds drifting across the square set Senda's nerves on edge.
He watched Lucian and Anali walk toward the castle. He hanged one of his most loyal friends, and he acts as though he were out for an evening stroll. Anali and Lucian both turned at the same time and locked their eyes on Senda. He refused to look away. The anger at the injustice he had just witnessed fueled this newfound confidence and strength. He was the only one that knew the truth; he had to find a way to prove the Mystic was responsible.
The undertaker carefully cut Suasor's body down, heaving and grunting as he maneuvered it into his cart. Senda watched as he picked up the posts and pulled the cart with Suasor's body toward his place of business. When there wasn't a need for coffins or burials, he made and repaired furniture.
