Heir's Revenge (Return of the Aghyrians Book 4)

by Patty Jansen

  At the very bottom of the stack that had tumbled from the boxes, she found the book of author’s notes. It was a plain-covered, slightly frayed very old little book that didn’t give the appearance of having been opened since it had been printed.

  Some of the pages were stuck together with scorpion droppings. Someone really should do something about those pests.

  Ellisandra leafed through the pages that she could open. She would have to take this home and unstick the pages so that she could read through it. Many plays had these books, which were usually artistic instructions from the author. It was often the only hint at the author’s identity, because the plays had been commissioned by the council of that time, and it wasn’t customary for the author’s name to be known.

  Changing Fate was the second play in what the scholars called the classic period of Mirani theatre.

  The Invasion was the beginning of that era where plays reflected real and often violent events rather than re-told romantic mythology.

  Historians referred to the period as the time when Miran lost its innocence.

  Prior to the invasion of Miran by Coldi, the city had been prosperous, free of foreign influence, blissfully ignorant of both the existence of other worlds and the people on them. Miran had been run much like a city-state back then, because travel to the eastern coast or western agricultural lands was overland only. It was difficult and took days. The mountain tiyuk were good climbers, but were ill-suited to warmer climates.

  There was no need for travel and there was little trade between the various settlements: Miran, Estevan in the highlands, Bendara in the west and Kesilu on the east coast. The city still fitted inside the walls, the Nikala worked the fields, the Endri provided them with houses and protection, and the council debated the arts and building projects.

  And then one day, the sky filled with flying machines, bringing Coldi warriors from Asto, raiding Miran for riches and food with space machines and space technology. The people fought back, but many were killed. Miran lost more than lives that day: it lost its isolation, its innocence and much of its pride. Afterwards, it had hastily developed technology but according to some, its pride had never fully recovered.

  The great writers of that time had poured all their emotions into these texts, and at the time, their main emotion was anger. The Invasion told the original story, and was compulsory viewing for all school students. This was the theatre’s most-performed play. It was where Mirani children learned what Asto had done to them and why the Coldi should never be trusted.

  Changing Fate came immediately after The Invasion and was a combination of a love story combined with a vengeful streak of violent retribution. The combination was odd, didn’t add up to a coherent plot, and the only person whose character was seriously affected was the female lead, who had a change of mind about her lover.

  The antagonist Coldi prisoner wasn’t much of an antagonist. One, he was in prison for much of the play and two, he seemed nice and civilised.

  Maybe that was the problem with the play: It did awful things to people who, according to modern understanding, hadn’t deserved it.

  Father had said last night that the play had been last performed the night before Nemedor Satarin’s election to the High Council. Nemedor Satarin might have had a hand in choosing it this time, but no matter how much Ellisandra tried to think of a special reason why that had been done, she couldn’t find one.

  It was much later when Ellisandra looked up from her work and realised she had forgotten to take her midday break and she was so hungry that it made her dizzy. All the scripts were now sorted in little piles around the perimeter of the table, ready to be tied up and given out. Some pages were missing, but nothing problematic that couldn’t be copied or resupplied. She’d ask the printer to take care of that.

  She was also really cold.

  On a little desk in the corner of the room stood a reader hub. It was an oddly modern piece of equipment in this stuffy room, tucked away in the darkest part of the building, as if anti-technology people would come to look for it. She turned the reader on and fired up the link to the council printer, which held copies of all significant texts. She quickly ordered copies of the needed pages. With a bit of luck they would be delivered later today.

  Upstairs in the office, Sariandra still sat in the room next to Ellisandra’s office, bent over the table drawing designs for costumes. On the stage, Tolaki and the actors had stopped rehearsing. They sat in a circle with food trays between them.

  Ellisandra called to Sariandra, “Come on, let’s have something to eat.”

  “I’ll just finish this,” Sariandra said, still busily drawing.

  Well, if nothing else, she was a hard and independent worker.

  Ellisandra left the room and went down the stairs. Soft tones of music rose up from the downstairs stage assembly hall, where she found Aleyo conducting the theatre orchestra. The group held about twenty players: harps, lutes, bow-harps, horns and trumpets, flutes and drums. The part they were practicing was the sweeping and familiar rhythm of the Lovers’ Dance. Now there was a piece that was often played in bars and at parties. She didn’t realise that it came from this play. Fancy that, the dance was of Mariandra with Rana.

  Ellisandra stopped to listen. The music did not quite fill the space of the backstage hall. It was thin, insecure. The drums were slightly out of time, the lead harp missed an entry, followed by an ugly discordant note.

  “No, no, no,” Aleyo called.

  The music stopped.

  “The flutes are too early again. First the drum goes dum, dum and then the harp comes in, and then the flute solo.”

  The lead flute player said, “Wait, it says here we have two bars and two counts rest.”

  “Three bars,” Aleyo said in her Seriously? voice.

  The woman squinted at the page. “So it does, too.” She was one of a couple of players who used to play in the state orchestra, but were now too old for the relentless practice or whose hands were too sore to hold their instruments for long periods of time.

  The woman scribbled on the music and then gave her pen to the younger woman next to her. A couple of others were also making notes.

  There was a lot of work still to be done here. It might be an idea if some members of the orchestra got glasses. Or maybe they should just retire and let the younger players have a chance to play. Maybe they should play by current ability, and not by past accolades, but try to get that past the council’s arts committee.

  Aleyo clapped her hands. “Everyone ready? Let’s play that part again.”

  Ellisandra took the opportunity to slip past the group in the darkness and curtained partitions of the backstage area, while the uncertain tones of the flute solo drifted through the open space.

  Every time when starting on a new play, she managed to forget how the orchestra was always a weak point in every production, and how hard it was to keep good players and how they looked like they were not going to get the pieces ready until the very last moment.

  The group of actors still sat on the stage talking and laughing. A tray stood on the stage in the middle of the group, but it only held a few crumbs of bread.

  “There she is,” Tolaki said.

  While Ellisandra crossed the stage, the people in the group turned around. Apart from Tolaki, there were Keldon, Tameyo and Liran, who played Rana and whom she hadn’t yet seen, and also the theatre’s caretaker. They sat at the very edge of the stage, facing someone who stood in semidarkness amongst the seats for the audience: a short and slight man with a sharp face, wearing a felt uniform with the insignia of the Mirani council embroidered on the chest.

  High Councillor Nemedor Satarin.

  He stood straight-backed, with his hands, free of jewellery, on the back of a seat. His cloak hung over the seat next to it.

  Every time she saw him, Ellisandra noticed how small and light-built he was. He was from the upper merchant—Nikala—class, and in the style of the army commander he had be
en, he kept his hair cropped very short. He had a sharp-nosed face with thin lips and penetrating dark blue eyes.

  He nodded a greeting. “Lady Ellisandra.” The military decorations on his chest glittered as he did so.

  “It’s an honour to have you pay us a visit, High Councillor.” Her heart thudded. Why was he here? The only time he ever came into the theatre was during performances, and then only to the important ones.

  “Excuse my presence. Don’t let me interrupt your normal preparations. I’m very excited. It’s a delight that after so many years, the theatre is performing my favourite play. I found your direction of Saving Grace last year most interesting, so that’s why I personally chose this play. It’s challenging, but I’m sure you will find a way to make it new and refreshing.”

  The little smile on his face, a smirk almost, brought a wave of anger.

  She was hungry. It didn’t look like there was any food left and she was not in the mood to smile about this horrible play. His favourite? Seriously? Challenging?

  All these men were playing with her. Don’t do this, you can’t do that, don’t talk to that person. So they went, let’s give her this play and see how she jumps. Well, she was going to jump. The play was badly written and everyone knew it.

  She knew how to do that ladies’ smile that was the equivalent of his patronising smirk. “I have some plans for this play that will make it unforgettable.”

  His eyebrows went up. “Now you make me curious. Do tell me about these plans.”

  “It will be a surprise for everyone. It will be shocking and controversial, and you’ll still be talking about it for years to come.”

  “Very, very interesting. I’m looking forward to it.”

  She spotted Tolaki looking at her with an uneasy expression.

  Nemedor Satarin continued, “Well, it looks like that is under control, so you can spend all the time doing costumes and stage props and music.” He glanced at the entrance to the backstage area.

  Could he hear the orchestra’s rehearsal from here, or how long had he been listening and watching?

  “We’re working on the music,” she said, trying not to sound prim, but her heart was thudding. If a non-musical person could hear the trouble, then they did have a serious problem. “We have time. We’ll get there. It will sound beautiful on the day.” If only she could find better flute players. Maybe she needed to shake the orchestra up. Like that was something to look forward to, on top of all the other things that needed to be done.

  The awkward moment was disturbed with the sound of heavy footsteps.

  Loret and his men tromped onto the stage with heavy thudding of their sturdy work boots.

  “Good aft’noon, lady. Here we are, as promised.” He’d taken his usual crew of three younger men. Selip, Dojat, and she kept forgetting the name of the other one.

  Loret bowed to Nemedor Satarin. “Good t’ see youz here, High Councillor.”

  “Greetings, Soldier.” Nemedor Satarin had a much more friendly smile for Loret than for her. “I see you are doing well.”

  “Better ’n ever. Haven’t forgotten th’ army, High Councillor.”

  “Didn’t I tell you? Once a soldier, always a soldier.”

  “Too right, commander. Glad t’ serve youz.” Then he turned to Ellisandra. “Where d’youz want us t’ start, lady?”

  “The plans are upstairs in the office. Have a look at them, I’ll be up there shortly.”

  Loret and his men tromped back off the stage, hammers dangling on the back of their belts.

  “Strange time for them to turn up for work,” Nemedor Satarin said, in a semi-offhand tone that she didn’t mistake for chattiness.

  “They’re also working on another site.” She suspected that he knew this already.

  “They were offered other work while everyone knows that you use them for the theatre?”

  “Their employer didn’t know that.”

  “That is no excuse. I am aware of the situation with the foreigner at the Andrahar house. Allow me to say this, lady. I think that you should have referred the matter to a councillor. As a lady of the Mirani Endri, you absolutely should have priority over this foreigner. The workers should know that, too. In fact, I am disappointed in them. Mirani interests should always come first. They should not have been offered this job.”

  “The foreigner didn’t know any of that. He seems to have a robust project, and he makes the men very happy. We came to a compromise—”

  “And they are not happy working for you?” His expression was penetrating.

  “I can’t pay them as much as he does. He employs a cook, too, and they get free meals. I can’t do all those things.”

  “You shouldn’t have to buy the men’s loyalty.”

  “Loyalty doesn’t pay their bills.” And it was due to the current council that there were some bills. In the past, the Endri would have provided everything and the Nikala’s wages were paid in food and housing. This council had introduced rent.

  “So what is he paying them?” He fixed her with an intense look.

  “I . . . don’t know.” Seriously, what was this about?

  “You know that the workers are paid more than you can pay, but you don’t know how much?”

  Damn it. “Someone mentioned two tirans a day.”

  He whistled. “That’s not bad for hauling a few rocks. Where do you suppose he gets the money?”

  “I don’t know.” She glanced at the backstage entrance, desperate to get out of here.

  “You were seen talking to him this morning.”

  “That’s when I arranged that the workers could come here in the afternoon.” She took a step back. He was standing far too close for her liking, and his expression had an intensity that made her afraid to breathe. “Surely the guards have asked him all these questions?”

  “They have, but he’s an evasive fellow. He will answer a question in that old-fashioned way of speaking of his, and then later you’ll realise he hasn’t answered that question at all.”

  That was not how Vayra had come across to her at all. If anything, she thought he’d been too open and naive. “I didn’t have a need to ask him any questions other than about the workers.”

  “I understand, lady.” He retreated a step, and the intensity of his gaze let up a bit. “Did he seem to like you?”

  What?

  “My apologies for this rather intrusive question, but a female smile may loosen information from him where a guard’s badge does not.” He winked.

  What, what, what, seriously? “Well, I have no reason to see him again. I—”

  “Then you could make a reason. Say, you wanted the workers for longer than half a day—”

  “But I don’t.”

  “That’s insubstantial. I tell you that you want the workers for a whole day, so you go over to the house and ask him. It doesn’t matter if he says yes or no. The important part is that you’d get to talk to him. You get to bat your pretty eyelids at him and he’ll answer your questions, like who he is, how he entered Miran, why he’s here and why he’s rebuilding the house.”

  Ellisandra felt sick. “His ID card should give you that information.”

  “Oh yes, but we have the information from his ID already. He’s Aghyrian, from Barresh. His name is Vayra Perling Dinzo. He was born in Barresh and lived there all his life. His parents are high-profile people in the Barresh Aghyrian community. His father Daya Ezmi used to be Chief Councillor of Barresh. His mother Anmi Kirilen Dinzo is one of the buried children of Asto. They’re both Aghyrian. Apart from his high-profile parents, he’s had a most unremarkable life, but incredible academic credentials. He’s got a legitimate Masterbuilder’s licence from Damarq. He completed the Masterbuilders course while he was studying gamra law and studying for his Trader licence. Three degrees in one, and not ones that normal people can combine.”

  “It seems you know a lot more about him than I do already.” She seriously did not want to agree to be a spy.

&nb
sp; “Yes, but we don’t know a couple of important things. We can’t track how he entered Miran. We have no idea what he wants. We don’t know who he’s working for.”

  “You think that he’s going to tell me those things?”

  “Lady, it is amazing what a pretty female smile will do to a man.”

  “Jaeron’s not going to be impressed.” With increasing sickness, she realised how that situation would bear resemblance to the dreadful play they were performing.

  “Jaeron knows. He approves.”

  Was he serious about that? “I’d like to talk to him about it first.” Because the last time the subject of her talking to another unmarried man came up, Jaeron had berated her for hugging Keldon Nirumar onstage after her last successful performance. And Jaeron had not even been at the theatre. Keldon Nirumar, a ladyboy, for goodness sake, why would he think there would be anything going on except friendship?

  And she was so not going to go there again.

  “Certainly, lady, I understand. It would be very advantageous for both of you if you could provide me with that information. Your husband-to-be would like to move to a more senior position in the council, wouldn’t he?” When she didn’t say anything to that, he continued. “This foreigner will have done something illegal to enter Miran. The sooner we can pin something on him, the sooner we can be rid of this spy. Let’s fight spying with more spying, shall we? You will be my special weapon.”

  He laughed, but Ellisandra could not have felt less like laughing.

  10

  THAT ENCOUNTER left Ellisandra so disturbed that she forgot what she’d come down for. She only remembered the lack of food and her empty stomach when she was halfway back up the stairs and she met Sariandra who was on her way down.

  “If you’re going down for the midday meal, don’t bother. They’ve eaten all the food.”

  Sariandra made an O with her mouth. She looked disappointed.

  Ellisandra grinned. “It’s the actors. They never have enough to eat.” The reality was that it was freezing cold in the hall, and after a full day of standing on the stage, she always ate lots as well.