her instruments 03 - laisrathera

by M. C. A. Hogarth

  “I could do such a thing?” he asked, low.

  “It was done before. Why not again?”

  So it was possible. God and Lady, that a man could be more destructive than a bomb! And yet, if there was nothing between death and all those he warded but his own mind.… “Will you teach me?”

  Urise sighed. “You already have the trick of it, my son, or you could not have used it in your own defense already. But let us practice other things that might be of use.”

  “Such as?”

  “Such as how to survive the effort,” Urise replied, dry. “For if you think striking out against ten men is taxing, wait you until you try a hundred.”

  “At your convenience, Elder.”

  “Then we begin now. Recall you the earlier teachings? The Now and the Quiet and the foundations?”

  Hirianthial inclined his head.

  “Keep those things in the forefront,” the priest said. “We shall begin.”

  “What am I to do?”

  Urise eyed him, then said, “Don’t fall.” And then a gentle pressure settled on his aura and began to push inward. Hirianthial wondered what the priest was about, but obediently kept the force at bay. Slowly, it grew stronger. He continued to hold.

  How strange it must have looked from outside: two men, sitting at their ease facing one another, eyes closed, silent, for hours. But as the time passed, Hirianthial began to sweat and then to tremble with the effort. When he collapsed at last, he was startled to find himself on the floor.

  Urise leaned over. “What have you learned, then?”

  “That I can be crushed by a man a third my weight?” Hirianthial said, bemused.

  “Not a bad beginning.” The priest pursed his lips. “Go on.”

  “That there must be a better way to resist than to endure.”

  “Better,” Urise said. “You already endure too much. Anything else?”

  “That you know something I don’t,” Hirianthial said, eyeing him.

  “How is this, then: you collapsed because you were hungry.”

  “I… beg your pardon?” Hirianthial paused, then frowned. “What time is it? We are past the hour? We are!”

  Urise chuffed a laugh. “We are expending physical effort, my son. Don’t forget it. Now go and find fuel and rest.”

  “And you?” Hirianthial asked, lifting his brows. “Have you not also expended physical effort?”

  The priest looked exactly as he had when they’d begun: pacific, unbowed, with a touch of merriment hidden in his eyes and swirled through his aura. “I have.”

  Hirianthial folded his arms.

  Urise grinned. “Your assignment is to figure why you are tired and hungry, and I am not. And to practice the renitence.”

  “A riddle!” Hirianthial said, amused. “Very well, Elder. I shall apply myself directly. To that and the renitence.”

  “After the meal.”

  “After a meal.” He bowed and withdrew… and stopped in the corridor, running a hand down the back of his exposed neck and finding it slick. A meal, yes. But after a bath.

  For a heartbeat, no one moved. Almost, Reese exhaled.

  And then Belinor threw himself at their prisoner with a howl of rage, and Irine and Taylor leaped after him. There was a tussle Reese knew better than to interrupt and then the foxine was dragging the youth off Val, still yammering away in his own tongue.

  Val was sporting a new bruise—or two—and seeing it, Reese sighed. “Taylor, why don’t you walk our native guide around the castle a bit? Take him to the roof, see what he makes of the town, maybe.”

  “That sounds like a great idea,” Taylor said, eyeing Belinor. “Yes?”

  “I will not leave a lady with that outlaw!”

  Irine said, “I’ll be with her, and I’m armed.”

  “It may not be enough!”

  “If it’s not, it’s too late already and you should get away so you can run for help,” Reese said, trying not to sound as acerbic as she felt. Her hired help was pushy and never listened to her, fine. But the biddable Eldritch acolyte assigned to her started giving her trouble within a day of being assigned to her? Apparently something about her inspired backtalk. No wonder her glares never worked.

  The acolyte was waffling, so she said firmly, “Please go, okay? I’d like to get this sorted without the interruptions.”

  “Very well, my Lady,” the youth said, though he looked distinctly rebellious. He did, however, allow Taylor to lead him away. Hopefully she’d keep him for a while.

  Reese went to the Eldritch and paused. “To untie you, I’m going to have to touch you.”

  “And that should matter why?”

  Reese exchanged a look with Irine, and their captive chuckled. “I can feel your skepticism like a brick falling on my head. Yes, I know it’s hard to believe, but properly trained, you don’t have to feel anything through your skin… or floating in the air, either. It’s true that the Eldritch you’ve met would have you keep away because they can’t control it. But that’s what it is: a lack of control. Just like you couldn’t walk until you learned?”

  “Blood and freedom,” Reese muttered. “Can you stop with the shocks for a minute?” She started untying him. “Figures I’ve finally met an Eldritch with a sense of humor and the personality to go with it. There had to be one.”

  Val grinned as she released him and rolled, slowly and awkwardly, upright. “Thanks. You tied them tight.”

  “I’m good with knots,” Irine said.

  The Eldritch snorted, but said nothing, and Reese sat across from him with the fire at her back. Irine joined her and together they stared at him. She wasn’t sure what she was waiting for. Mostly she thought she was tired.

  Irine finally whispered, “He looks pretty normal.”

  Reese laughed and rubbed her face. To Val, she said, “So why are you trying to pull Belinor’s chain?”

  “Pull his chain?” the Eldritch said, puzzled.

  “Upset him,” Irine offered. “Tease him just to annoy him.”

  “Oh!” Their guest looked superbly innocent. “Was I?”

  “The reincarnation of Corel?” Reese prompted, dry.

  He looked at her, and suddenly she couldn’t tell if he’d intended it as a joke. Her heart fluttered.

  Val grinned. “Seemed like the thing to say at the time. Besides, it’s a good reason for me to be here, where he died.”

  “His castle,” Reese said.

  “His castle?” Val snorted. “Who told you that story? It’s the official one, I’ll grant you that, but it’s not the real one.”

  “Uggggh, just tell me already!” Reese threw up her hands. “You’re all so bleeding enigmatic! Get on with it!”

  He laughed. “Fine, fine. Have you wondered why Ontine is a palace, but this is a castle?”

  “No?”

  Irine’s ears were flat, though.

  “Yon tigress does, though.”

  She eyed him. “Well… it is weird. Architecturally.”

  “And she’s a tigraine, not a tigress,” Reese said. “Tigers are animals. Tigraines are people.”

  “He can call me ‘yon tigress,’” Irine said. “It’s kind of cute.”

  Reese covered her eyes. “Ugh, stop flirting with him, Irine. Back to the castle, please?”

  Thankfully, Val had let it pass. That was the last thing Reese needed: her Harat-Shar seducing an Eldritch she still wasn’t sure of. “This was the original capital. Corel lived north of here, but he occupied it—his solitary self, you understand—and when he killed most of the army that tried him, and finally died here, well… no one had the heart to stay. They moved south and started over. Palaces this time, not castles, because they saw for themselves just how useful castles were against the things they were really afraid of, so why bother with the false reassurances? Anyway. A few people remain in town, but nobody’s lived in this castle since. And I am here because it’s the furthest I could get from the bloodrobes, and distance is a good thing when peop
le have to ride horses to cross it.”

  “The whats?” Irine said, frowning.

  “The bloodrobes,” Val replied. He sat crosslegged, but loosely, with the soles of his feet pressed together in front of him. “What one calls our kind, the hunters of men and women and innocent children.”

  “Oh,” Reese whispered, struck by vivid memory. “Baniel.”

  Val glanced up so sharply Irine half-rose, brandishing the palmer. But all the Eldritch did was hiss, “Did you say ‘Baniel’?”

  “Please tell me he’s your enemy. That sounds a lot like he’s your enemy.” Reese looked up at the ceiling. “Please, I could use some good luck here.”

  “Have you come to this world to kill him? Dare I hope?” Val asked. “Because if so, oh, I am with you.”

  “What did he do to you?” Irine was, Reese noted, no longer aiming the weapon at Val, but trying not to play with her tail, which was her nervous habit.

  “He was the one what swept in and made things more vile,” Val said. “And he was the one who turned everyone else on me when I spoke against it.” He glanced at Reese. “Called me a traitor to my race, and a renegade, and trust me when I say that the word from him is an epitaph, rather than the epithet it is from your boy.”

  “You make that sound as if you were important,” Irine said.

  “Oh, I was, a little.” He smiled. “He and I were the only possible candidates for the head of the order.”

  Another silence. At least this time, Reese was sure there wouldn’t be any bodies flying around to end it.

  “So do I hear right, that you might want something done about him? And that perhaps you might have compatriots with modern weapons who might be of aid?”

  “Your hearing’s not all that bad, but it’s embroidering things,” Reese said, feeling tired and suddenly cold despite the fire. Or maybe it was because of the fire; she peered at it and found it a lot lower than it was before. “Look, we have a billion enemies—”

  “More like fifty thousand, or maybe twenty-five thousand, depending on which population estimate was right,” Irine interrupted.

  “Fine, twenty-five thousand enemies, a lot of who seem to have plenty of modern weapons themselves, plus there are pirates here with a ship in orbit and possibly at least one Chatcaavan,” Reese said. “So getting you over to the palace for your revenge isn’t going to be as easy as ‘hooray, I’ve got a couple of aliens with palmers, I can go clean up the priesthood now!’”

  “No,” Val said, studying her with interest. “But it seems I have stumbled on something a lot more interesting than mere revenge.”

  “You might not think so when you’re done hearing the rest of it.” Reese sighed and said to Irine, “Call the others down? I think it’s time we contacted Malia, if she’ll answer, and start making real plans.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “There, my Lady,” Thaniet said, tucking a final emerald-topped pin into Surela’s hair. “You look radiant.”

  Surela studied herself in the mirror and said, silvering the words for gratitude, “Thank you. You have a way with the toilette.”

  The other woman flushed a tender peach at the cheeks. “Oh, my Lady. My efforts were only barely adequate before. Now that you’ve risen in station, you really do deserve a dedicated lady’s maid.”

  “A dedicated lady’s maid wouldn’t be you,” Surela said. She smiled wearily at Thaniet’s reflection. “I prefer your touch to a servant’s, and suspect I always will.”

  Thaniet lowered her eyes, but she was smiling. “You are too kind, my Lady.”

  All their words had been silvered and gilt; it was always thus with Thaniet. They talked and the world became a brighter, more beautiful place, cradled in the filigree of optimism and faith and gentleness. Would that she could tarry here and talk with someone sympathetic to her aims! But she could not. “I appreciate the effort you put into it today, particularly, as I now go to unpleasant duty.”

  “May I ask?” Thaniet said, hesitant.

  Surela sighed. She turned from the mirror and surveyed the bedroom she had claimed as her right as the new Queen of the Eldritch and still found it stamped too well with Liolesa’s mark for her taste. But there would be time to address that, after she had settled the realm, which was the matter that concerned her now. “I summon the detained, to see if they might be convinced to give me fealty.”

  Thaniet’s hesitation was obvious.

  “Yes, I know. The chances of it are low,” Surela said. “But what use killing them? They might not become good servants of the Crown, but they might be obedient ones, the way we were to Liolesa until she gave us unforgiveable insult.” She shuddered. “A mind-mage. Imagine it. And to think Jisiensire was harboring that seed all along! And that I tried to bring him suit!” She smoothed her sleeves over her arms, trying to still the gooseflesh that had run down them at the thought. Hirianthial was fair of face and manner, and had been well connected and well-moneyed… but if she’d known he was a sorcerer….

  Shaking herself, she continued in the shadowed mode, “I don’t need them to love or respect me. I just need them to agree not to spend their strength testing ours, and die for their pains.”

  “What does Athanesin say of this plan?” Thaniet asked tentatively.

  Surela snorted. “I have not asked him, for it is not his to opine. Besides, what would any man say of such a plan? He will want to kill them, of course, and install some of our own in their place.”

  Thaniet shivered. “I am glad you are not so bloodthirsty, my Lady. It would be a fell thing, to begin a dynasty with the slaughter of so many people.”

  “I know,” Surela said, the words muted. “And I will not, I pledge you. So I hope they will not prove too intractable. Will you come with me? You may, if you wish.”

  “I would, my Lady… but the priest has asked me to see him. Perhaps I can attend your next meeting? Or do you see them all at once?”

  “No,” Surela said. “Together they can give one another too much support. I will take them one at a time.” She smiled and returned to their silver-gilt world, the words glittering. “You have been a great help. Thank you for it.”

  “Oh, my Lady,” Thaniet said, blushing. “It is nothing beside what you have done for me and my family.” She curtseyed, her skirts rustling. “By your leave? I will see what the high priest wishes.”

  “Go on, then.”

  Liolesa’s office also still felt far too much like Liolesa’s office, and that was something Surela intended to rectify immediately. The private spaces could afford to wait. The public spaces had to reflect her new rule which, she thought with distaste as she glanced around the room, would be far less tainted by the notions of mortals. Tradition would serve them, as it always had. There was nothing out there for the Eldritch save danger and jealousy and the avarice of people who had not their talents, their beauty, or the wisdom afforded them by their lifespans. No… better to remain withdrawn, where they could live their lives in peace. Surela regretted deposing Liolesa in the fashion she had, but the former queen had brought it on herself; by Surela’s way of thinking, it was fated that weapons of the very cultures Liolesa had been unwisely courting should end her reign.

  All of this was a deeply sordid business, and she very much wanted to be done with it. And hopefully, this next interview would begin that process, so that the world could resume the normal rhythms of life. Surela did not look up when the guards announced Araelis Mina Jisiensire’s arrival, but waited until they’d withdrawn to consider her guest.

  Unsurprisingly, Araelis was infuriated, obviously so. She had never been deft at disguising her feelings, and in this instance Surela suspected she wasn’t even trying. What was to be expected of Hirianthial’s successor, though?

  “Lady Araelis,” Surela said. “Please, join me by the fire.”

  “You’ll have to kill me before I join you in anything,” Araelis answered, the words black as ashes.

  Surela sighed. “We need not begin this way. I don�
�t expect you to like me, Araelis, but surely we can work together to ensure the prosperity of your family.”

  “The… the prosperity. Of my family!” Araelis stared at her. “Are you in earnest? You expect me to believe that you care anything for the welfare of my family when your puppet priest delivered my cousin all but dead into the middle of the winter court, and for no aim other than to be sure he was denounced? So you could give everyone a reputable reason for having him slain for denying your affections?”

  Surela felt her cheeks warm. Maintaining her aplomb was difficult, but she managed. “I did not have him slain for spurning me.”

  “Oh, tell me a fresh lie,” Araelis snapped. “You are a vain and foolish and short-sighted woman. You have invited our worst enemies onto our soil, thinking that once they are paid they will never return. But if you feed the wolf once, Surela, he will be back… and he will bring all his kin.”

  Surela had hoped using Araelis’s name would invite the other woman to consider the same intimacy. She was now no longer certain she was glad to have opened that door. “I have been assured that the creatures we’ve bought have been paid already.”

  “Oh is that so.” Araelis snorted. “Yes, you continue thinking that. Idiot!”

  “That is enough!”

  “No, that’s not enough! Because you are an idiot! Do you think the slavers who were picking us off in the Alliance when we dared to leave our world will hesitate even a heartbeat before descending on us now that they know—now that you and that three-times-bedamned priest have told them!—where we lie? What do you think Hirianthial was spending his blood to investigate in the outworld before returning here? We have lost too many to dragons, and now you have given us all to them, and the worst of it is that after dragging a false crown onto your head you will still do not the first duty of a liegelady and find us protection against the very enemies you’ve bought us! Goddess and Lord, but to think that our downfall would be the doing of traitors! I had thought accident would belie us first but you have undone all that Jerisa and Maraesa spent their reigns erecting in our defense!”