Casket of Souls

by Lynn Flewelling

  The drysian went to the child and pressed a finger to his wrist, then nodded sadly. “Astellus carry him gently. This one lasted longer than most, from what we’ve heard. Who knows about others left to die unnoticed in some hovel or tenement?”

  “How many others have you seen here, besides these?”

  “Two others. I think they must have made their way up from the harbor.”

  “Sister, when these stricken ones come to you, do you inspect them closely?”

  “We do, my lord, looking for any kind of wound.”

  “And you find nothing?”

  “Nothing unusual, just the occasional bruises or cuts, but not on all.”

  He thought a moment, trying to decide what Seregil would ask if he were here. “No markings?”

  “What sort of markings?”

  “Any kind. Guild marks, tattoos, brands.”

  “No, my lord, nothing like that.”

  “Are there more of these sick people at any of the other temples in the Upper City?” asked Alec, still kneeling by the dead boy.

  “No, but as I said, with us being so close to the Harbor Way, it’s us who finds them. The main temple down in Grampus Street is where most of them are being taken, as there’s more found on that side of Trade Street.”

  Only a few streets separated Trade from some of the lowest stews in Rhíminee. He took out his gambling winnings and gave them to her. “Thank you, Sister, and Maker’s Mercy.”

  Her eyes widened at the weight of the purse. “Maker’s Mercy to you, too, kind sir.”

  The whole household was awake when Brader arrived with the cart.

  “What happened?” Merina demanded in alarm, following behind him as Brader carried Atre to his room.

  “A foolish accident on my part,” Atre gasped. He made no objection as she helped him out of his clothes and into his ornate bed. “I found myself missing some of our former haunts—”

  Merina exchanged a doubtful look with her husband. “More fool you, then. What would we do without you?”

  “We’ll be doing without him for a few days, at least,” Brader told her, glowering down at Atre, then at the anxious people hovering at the door. “Go on to bed, all of you. I’ll sit with him for a while.”

  He closed the door firmly after them and pulled a chair up to the bedside. “What in the name of Soru were you thinking, going down there without me?”

  “You were off with your family, weren’t you?” Atre’s tone bordered on accusing, and not for the first time. Atre had never married, never cared enough about any woman to do so, though he’d had no end of romantic conquests. If it had been up to him, Brader would have done the same. “Someone has to go. We’re running low again, you know.”

  “It’s getting dangerous. You’re taking too many chances.”

  “What choice do we have, my friend? Unless …”

  Brader clenched his fists. “No!”

  Atre gave a maddening little shrug. “Well then. Fetch me a draught, will you, please?”

  Brader went to the wardrobe and took out the leather elixir box, selecting a milky phial at random.

  Breaking the seal, Atre drank it down greedily, hand pressed to his bandaged belly. “Ah, that eases it a bit. Another.”

  “You drank just yesterday. It’s too soon for so much.”

  “Not with a wound!” the other man snapped, holding out his hand.

  “You’ll still have to pretend to be hurt for a few days,” he reminded him as he went to fetch him another bottle.

  “Acting is so much easier when you’re not in pain,” Atre shot back.

  “Too easy, perhaps,” Brader muttered. “At least take warning from this.”

  At Reltheus’s villa, Seregil and the rest of their party from the Three Dragons settled down over wine and pipes in the smaller salon.

  Reltheus disappeared for a moment and came back without his coat on, he noted with interest. Seregil sat laughing over his wine with the others for some time, then announced a full bladder and walked a bit unsteadily from the room.

  Reltheus’s study lay just down the corridor. The coat was thrown carelessly over a chair and the pilfered letter was in the desk, concealed under a stack of other correspondence. Seregil hid behind the study door to read it, so as to be able to hear anyone approaching, and see who it was through the crack in the door. The letter was dated yesterday.

  Your Majesty, Dearest Aunt, I made sacrifices at the Sakor Temple for your success and safety yesterday. I hope the Immortal will continue to smile upon you.

  It has been raining here, so Master Seneus has held our practices in the smaller ballroom. He praises my sword work and says I’m continuing to improve. I’m sure I will learn even faster when you return as my teacher. No one is your match. I miss your guidance so much!

  Seregil smiled to himself. He’d seen a great many young ladies’ letters, and it was clear that Elani was working up to something her aunt was not going to like. Seregil already suspected what that might be. He read on.

  Your Lily had eight fine pups two days ago, all healthy and nursing well. She’s a wonderful mother. Duke Reltheus has already asked me to ask you if he might have one of them when they are old enough to give away. I told him you would be back by then and he could ask you himself. I hope you will. The duke has shown me such kindness and I can’t help thinking of him as a sort of uncle. He’s already planning a grand autumn hunt to welcome you home. The deer on his estate are thick this year. He was so very pleased to hear that you speak well of his son, Captain Danos.

  Seregil wondered what Elani would think of the news that her swain had been suspected of treason.

  Duke Reltheus reads me all of Danos’s letters and it fills me with such excitement! I can’t wait until I can be tested on the field of battle myself. It has been so difficult this summer, being praised for my skills, but having no chance to prove my mettle against a real enemy! As much as I pray for victory to come soon, in my heart I worry that I will have no chance to see battle before it’s all over. I visit the tombs of our ancestors to give offerings, especially to Queen Gherilain the First.

  I have a favor to ask of you, dear Aunt. As I wrote to you in my last letter, I have had occasion to come to know Lord Alec and our kinsman, Lord Seregil and can’t help wondering at your refusal to appoint them to my entourage. They are such good men. Alec is the best archer I have ever seen, even better than my own master of archery, and he has taught me so much! I beg you to reconsider.

  Seregil frowned. The last thing he wanted was to return to court, and couldn’t imagine Alec wanting to, either. There was probably little to fear, though. Phoria might tolerate them being friends with her heir, but court appointments seemed very unlikely. It would be so awkward finding a way to refuse, and the last thing he wanted to do was hurt the girl’s feelings. If the wind did seem to be blowing that way when Phoria got back, he’d have to embroil himself in some suitable scandal and disgrace himself long enough to be banished from the royal presence for a while. Bothersome, but easily arranged.

  He replaced the letter in the desk and made a quick check of what was in Reltheus’s secret cache today, which turned out to be one coded document. A scan proved it to be another field report from Rider Caem, which must have been sent before he’d been caught. It was long and took several moments to puzzle out, but finally Seregil read Klia joined queen at Vremont. Heard shouting from royal tent. K chafes at her losses. Chided by queen, K vowed loyalty. K called her officers to her tent for secret talk. Repeat loyalty to queen. Battle tomorrow. Forefront again.

  The battle of Vremont had been reported by the royal heralds as a victory several weeks ago. He wondered how long it would take Reltheus to notice that no more messages were coming.

  Seregil put everything back the way he’d found it, and made a quick search of the rest of the large desk. In the locked drawer he found the beginning of a letter to the queen in which Reltheus expressed some concern about Elani’s evident “infatuation” wi
th Alec. He worried that it was unseemly for her to show feelings toward a young man known to be another nobleman’s lover.

  Well, well, you double-dealing old fox, Seregil thought with wry amusement. You think there’s a weasel loose in the henhouse and you’re not about to stand for it. Still, Reltheus must think he or Alec could be useful or he wouldn’t keep them in his circle as he had.

  He made himself a bit more disheveled and rejoined the company. Reltheus was playing bakshi with Selin while the others talked. Seregil caught Elani’s name.

  “That was a pleasant afternoon with Her Highness, wasn’t it?” Seregil drawled drunkenly, flopping down on the velvet tufted couch beside Stenmir just to annoy the man. “The more I see of that girl, the better I like her. Marvelous wise head on those young shoulders. What a queen she’ll make!”

  “There are those who disagree,” Count Tolin sniffed. “I’m surprised you don’t have more to say about Princess Klia being passed over, given your friendship with her.”

  Seregil waved a dismissive hand. “She doesn’t aspire to be queen, as far as I know. Loyal as the day is long.”

  “The days are getting shorter though, aren’t they?” Stenmir mused, deep in his cups.

  Reltheus gave the man a sharp look, then smiled at Seregil. “I’m sure yours is the more valuable observation.”

  “Don’t tell me people are worried about her trying to take the throne!” Seregil exclaimed.

  “There are those who think she might.”

  Seregil pretended to swallow another mouthful of wine and shrugged. “Reckless, foolhardy gossip. Don’t they know that could rip the country apart?”

  “I told you he’s the queen’s man,” Reltheus said to the room at large as he pushed his last bakshi stone into place and defeated Selin.

  “To the queen!” Seregil raised his cup unsteadily and the others joined in the toast.

  Reltheus stood and held out a hand to him. “I need some air and you look like you could do with some, as well. Come take a turn in the garden with me.”

  Seregil wavered to his feet, still playing half inebriated, and took Reltheus’s arm. “Just the thing!”

  The rain had stopped and a light fog had risen from the harbor, pleasant against the skin.

  “I must say, it’s been a delight getting to know you, my friend,” Reltheus said warmly, patting the hand on his arm. “For all your reputation, I believe there’s more to you than you let on.”

  Seregil schooled his expression to a tipsy grin, wondering if Reltheus meant to slit his throat here in the darkness. “I hardly think so. As I’ve often said, most of what you hear about me is true.”

  “But I’ve heard a great deal, and not all of it scandalous. You were an important envoy in Aurënen, it’s said, threading the complicated politics of that country.”

  Seregil relaxed slightly. “I was glad to be useful to Skala. I love my adopted homeland very much.”

  “And you wouldn’t see it come to harm.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Then I may have a way for you to forestall that.”

  Seregil stopped in the light of a garden lantern and looked up at him. “Me? How?”

  “Oh, just a little thing,” Reltheus assured him. “As it happens, I have reason to believe that your friend Duke Malthus may be one of those wanting to put Klia on the throne in Elani’s place. I fear he might even be planning to assassinate Phoria and the girl. And I think our friend General Sarien may be in on the plot, as well.”

  Seregil gave him a horrified look. “That can’t be!”

  “I do hope for their sakes that I’m wrong, but I’m trying to find out for certain before I go to the vicegerent. And I think you can help me in that. You socialize with Malthus frequently. Has he ever said anything to you that would make you think he’s unsympathetic to Elani as heir?”

  “Never! Do you think it’s really possible?”

  “Yes, I do. If you could keep your ears open, even sound him out a bit, it would be a great service to Skala, the queen, and Elani, of course. I couldn’t bear to see that girl come to harm.”

  I’m sure you couldn’t, thought Seregil, although the man did sound genuinely concerned. After what Elani had told Alec about her feelings for Danos, Seregil was anxious to see her around Danos, to see if there was any real affection on the young man’s side, or just a dutiful son following his father’s wishes—or a mercenary desire to share the royal dais.

  “I’ll certainly pay attention to see if Malthus says anything about it, but he is a friend, and I don’t want to get him into any trouble.”

  “But you wouldn’t want anyone to think you were colluding with him, either, would you?” Reltheus asked mildly.

  Now the gloves were coming off. “Why do you think anyone would think that?” Seregil asked in alarm that was not entirely feigned. If Reltheus turned on him and Alec, he certainly had sway at court.

  Reltheus patted his arm again. “I’m sure you’ll prove your loyalty to Skala, Seregil. If you do hear anything compromising, it would be best if you brought it directly to me.”

  “Not Prince Korathan?”

  Seregil caught a fleeting look of exasperation in the other man’s eyes. Reltheus was quite the dissembler. “No, I think it will be better if you come to me.”

  “Very well. I’m sure you know best,” Seregil replied.

  They went back inside to find that Alec had arrived.

  “And how is your distressed friend?” asked Reltheus, pouring wine for him.

  “He’ll live,” Alec said with a smile, catching Seregil’s eye. “Got himself into a bit of trouble in a rough neighborhood. He’s gone home now.”

  He and Seregil stayed long enough for Alec to have a few games, and it was closer to dawn than midnight when they finally took their leave. The wind had come up, swirling the thickening mist and blowing out street lanterns. Even here in the Noble Quarter, the lamplighters had turned in for the night. It was the sort of night footpads crept into the finer streets, looking for an easy mark in the darkness.

  “Atre’s all right?” asked Seregil.

  “Minor knife wound from a girl cutpurse he tried to help, according to him. Brader came and fetched him.”

  “How did he know where Atre was?”

  “I didn’t think to ask,” Alec admitted. “Atre must have sent a messenger.”

  “No matter, I suppose, so long as he isn’t mortally wounded.”

  “Speaking of mortally wounded, I found a man with the sleeping death on the way back. I took him to a temple, and there were more.”

  “Up here? How many?”

  “Five in all. Tonight it was a god-touched young man, and—two little boys.”

  A small but clear stab of heartache slipped along his bond to Seregil. He reined in close beside Alec. “Is it because they’re mostly children, talí?”

  “Yes.” It was a hoarse whisper, and Seregil felt that tingle of pain again. Alec had always been good with children. Having Sebrahn for so short a time and then losing him had left a deeper wound than Alec would admit. Though he wouldn’t talk about it, every so often something would bring the sadness to the surface. It happened less often now, but the pain was still just as deep.

  “It’s not just that,” Alec added softly. “I was nearly that poor once, and played in the streets when my father left me behind in towns sometimes.”

  “At least he came back. You had someone who cared about you.” It had been a long time since Alec had mentioned his father, and although the man had sounded like a hard-bitten sort, Alec had clearly loved him and felt loved in return. At times he showed a bit of the man’s reticence, too, Seregil reflected.

  “This disease doesn’t just strike children,” he pointed out. “There was that prostitute we found, and your fellow tonight.”

  “That’s true,” Alec said grudgingly. “But the drysian said the bawd had been to her with various maladies. She might have been ill. It makes sense for a disease to take the weake
st.”

  “The poor don’t get as much food, especially this summer. They’re not as healthy to begin with, and they die younger.”

  Alec frowned. “If Korathan quarantines them, it will just make it worse.”

  “But keep it from spreading and killing even more, as it appears it already is. These things run their course, like a fever or a wildfire. Did you get a good look at them?”

  “Not a thorough one, but I asked about wounds and marks, tattoos and the like. There was nothing.”

  “Well done.”

  Alec was quiet for a moment. “The drysian told me there are a lot more sick ones at the temple down in Grampus Street. She said there are more falling sick in the Lower City all the time. That’s where she thought the ones she had came from. The man I found certainly looked like someone who could have been from the stews down there. I think he was a gate runner, from the smell of him.”

  “We already have our hands full, Alec.”

  “If it’s spreading up here, wouldn’t Valerius want to know?”

  Seregil sighed. “We’ll go to him early tomorrow, and see if he knows anything about all this. Let him have a look at them. Illior knows there’s nothing we can do to help them.”

  They rode on in silence for a few minutes. “The Skulpin seems a strange sort of place for anyone who loves luxury as much as our actor friend, don’t you think?” said Seregil.

  “You think he was lying about why he was there?”

  “I don’t know. It could just be a place he frequented when he and his friends lived there.”

  “I’m surprised he had the energy to go, after a performance.”

  “The Crane is dark tonight.”

  “It is?” Alec frowned at something.

  “What is it?”

  “He had a little cosmetic on his face.”

  Seregil chuckled. “He probably wanted to look as alluring as possible.”

  “No, not all over, just around the hairline.”

  “Not that surprising. It’s not always easy to get off, depending on what you use. It’s probably from yesterday.”