by Jaine Fenn
Nothing came of the initial shower. In the afternoon, with the city on the horizon, lightning began to flash through the clouds behind them. Rhia, watching from the back of the wagon, saw the storm roll up, distant grumbles becoming sharp bangs. Then, with only a few spatters to herald it, a torrent came beating out of the sky.
The road turned to mud in moments, and the wagons slowed. The militiamen whipped the horses on. Just when it seemed they would have to concede defeat and pull over to wait out the storm, they reached the paved section of road. With stone under their wheels they sped up. When they crossed the bridge into the city Rhia looked down to see brown water foaming; the air smelled of cold earth and dislodged sewage.
The rain had transformed the city. The soaking streets were full of half-crazy people, some singing praises to the First, some dancing in the downpour, some holding impromptu parties, some just staring up in wonder at the heavens. The wagons had to halt to allow processions to pass, or slow to weave through joyful crowds.
The carnival atmosphere persisted into the upper city, with gangs of youths singing and drinking, and more sedate household outings under awnings previously used to keeping the sun off. Children splashed through puddles and raced paper boats down overflowing gutters.
When they pulled up outside her house Rhia thanked the militiamen, remembering the three soldiers she had left the city with: two now dead, one First knew where. Then she, Etyan and Dej made an undignified dash for the front door. The first-floor shutters were closed and without her key Rhia was reduced to knocking on her own door.
Nerilyn answered, her initial confusion dissolving into amazed relief when she recognized her mistress. “I’ll fetch Markave!”
Markave bustled in and stopped short at the sight of the damp and poorly dressed trio hurrying into the hallway out of the rain. He gasped as he realized who they were. “Welcome home, m’lady, m’lord. I shall instruct Nerilyn to draw baths, and will make some supper.”
“Thank you. Where is Brynan?”
“This is his day off. We had no idea you would make such good time. The bedrooms are aired but…” his gaze settled on the skykin girl.
“Yes please, Markave, the spare one too.” She turned to Dej. “You’re free to leave whenever you want, and I will ensure you are well rewarded when you do, but I would advise waiting until morning, and better weather, before going anywhere.”
“Thank you, I will.” From the look she gave Etyan, Rhia had an idea the second bedroom might not be needed. She was not sure how she felt about that.
“I’ll be in my room.” Etyan started towards the foot of the stairs, then looked back and smiled at Dej. “Coming?”
She nodded and followed him.
As the pair disappeared, Rhia turned to Markave. “I’m so sorry about Fenera.”
Her steward’s gaze dropped to the tiled floor. “So am I. For this to happen in your household–”
“No, I mean, she was your wife, and now…” Now, at best, Fenera would be dismissed, whipped and branded; at worst, executed.
“Things had not been right between us for a while. She still wanted children of her own.” Markave’s two sons from his first marriage had been brought up by his sister after he was widowed. Markave continued, “I suspected there might be… another man.” Markave’s twisted expression said he was not comfortable discussing this, but then he added in a voice hard as ironwood, “I hear he fled the city before he could be apprehended.”
So they might never know who was behind Fenera’s treachery. “Please let me know if I can help in any way.”
“M’lady, do not make allowances for this unfortunate situation. It will not affect the service I give you.”
“Thank you, Markave. I know that. I just… I wanted you to know you have my gratitude and support. Now, while the water heats for our baths I think we will eat.”
“The, um, skyland visitor, will she require any special foodstuffs?”
“I don’t believe so, but you can ask her. She doesn’t bite. I’ll change out of these clothes, then I need to visit my study.”
“M’lady, about your study, there was–”
A sharp knock interrupted him.
Markave looked to Rhia, who nodded. He opened the front door. Beyond him, Rhia saw uniformed men. For a moment she wondered if Captain Remeth had come back for some reason. Then the militiaman wearing a captain’s insignia, a stranger, said, “We have a warrant for the arrest of Etyan Harlyn.”
Rhia strode over. “You have a what?”
“A warrant. For Lord Harlyn’s arrest.” There were three of them, and they looked surprised, going on shocked. Then again, she must be quite a sight, with her travel clothes, emaciated body and scarred face. Perhaps he did not realize who she was.
“Let me see.” Rhia held out a hand.
The men exchanged glances.
“I’m Countess Harlyn. Who else would I be, in this house? But if you doubt it…” she thrust her thumb, with the signet ring on, in their faces. “Now, give me this warrant.” The captain produced a roll of vellum from an inside pocket. It was somewhat crushed, but dry, unlike the men themselves.
Rhia unrolled the vellum and read it. She had never seen an arrest warrant, but it looked official, and had the duke’s seal. This made no sense. Captain Remeth had no orders to detain Etyan. Unless something had changed in the last few days.
“This is unexpected and irregular. We have just returned from an arduous journey.”
“We have our orders, m’lady.”
They were not going to go away. “Come in, and wait in the parlour.”
“We were told to fetch the young lord–”
“You will wait in the parlour.” She nodded to indicate the parlour door. “No one is going anywhere yet, do you understand?”
“But, m’lady–”
“This way, please.” Markave shepherded the soldiers out of the hall. “Shall I fetch cloths for the furniture?”
“What? Oh yes. Let them sit.” Rhia climbed the first few stairs, calling Etyan’s name. After a few moments he stuck his head out of his room. “Uh, yes?”
“There appears to be a misunderstanding. Some militiamen have arrived with a warrant for your arrest.”
“What? No!”
“Stay calm! We have to cooperate.” Should she insist on accompanying him to the palace? But once within those walls they were out of safe territory. “You stay here, and I’ll sort everything out.” I hope.
“All right.” He made to close the door, looking pale.
“You had best wait with them.”
“I really don’t–”
“They’re just following orders. Please.”
“I suppose I don’t have much choice.” He came out of his room, then looked back over his shoulder. “Uh, Dej, it’s probably best if you stay here.”
Rhia didn’t hear the skykin’s reply, though Etyan had left the door ajar. In the parlour, the trio of soldiers were standing not remotely at ease. “This is Lord Harlyn. You, and he, can wait here, because no one is arresting anyone right now.”
“But–”
“Do not press me, Captain. My patience is all used up. So you can keep sight of him, Etyan will stay in this room with you. You can all sit down and wait in a civilized manner until I get back.”
“I’m sure there is nothing to worry about,” she said to Etyan as she left. He nodded but said nothing.
Markave passed her at the door, carrying cloths and towels. She thought of asking him to fetch a cloak, but decided not to; despite her weakened state a manic energy infected her. Let the rain come. Then she remembered what her steward had said earlier, “Markave, I’m going out, was there something else, regarding my study?”
“Yes. Someone came for your ironwood chest two days after you left.”
“What? Who?”
“Someone from the palace, I believe.”
“Were you in when they arrived?”
“No, m’lady, I was out settling ac
counts at–”
“Was Fenera?”
“I’m not sure, I think she may have been here.”
“No one is to leave this house until I get back!”
Chapter 64
“Where are my papers?”
“Cousin! You’re back!” Francin stood up from the table where he was conferring with one of his small councils. “And wet. Yes, I was told the rains had finally come, thank the First.”
“My papers. Where are they?”
“Leave us, please.” He gestured to the half dozen gentlemen around the table, who wore expressions ranging from shock to disgust to outrage. They stood, a couple staring at Rhia’s unmasked face as they passed. “My apologies, we shall reconvene tomorrow,” murmured the duke. “And kindly tell the guards that the countess and I are not to be disturbed.”
He gestured to one of the empty chairs. Rhia ignored it and began to pace. Francin resumed his seat and said, “Papers? Oh, you mean the ones in that great big chest with the awfully nice lock on it?”
“Yes!”
“They’re safe.”
“Safe where?”
“Safe here, in the palace. Now you’re back I’ll return them. It is lovely to see you, by the way; you’ve looked better, smelled better too, if you don’t mind me saying, but even so–”
“Francin! Why did you take my papers?”
“To protect them, which is what you would have wanted, I’m sure. After that break-in and with you running off to Zekt like that – I’m embarrassed to say I underestimated your persistence – I just thought they would be safer here.”
“You just thought. And you didn’t think to tell my staff what you were doing?”
“Well, no. Which turned out to be a good idea, didn’t it? Shame about your housekeeper. Are you sure you won’t sit down? All that pacing is making me dizzy.”
Now her initial fear and fury was spent, exhaustion crept back in. She pulled out the chair across the table from Francin. After weeks of wooden benches and bare earth the padded seat felt ridiculously decadent. As she settled into it the duke asked, “Where are my men?”
“Your men? Oh. The two corporals are, I’m afraid to say, dead. As for Captain Sorne: you tell me. He abandoned us on the Zekti border, on your orders. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me what he’s up to?”
“Nothing to concern you, cousin. How did his men die?”
“Lekem died defending us from the rogue skykin.” Rhia had no intention of incriminating Dej.
“Oh dear. I’ll make sure his family is well compensated. And the other one, Breen, wasn’t it?”
“He betrayed us. Captain Sorne executed him.”
“How awful.” Francin did a convincing job of looking shocked. Rhia was not convinced.
“You knew he was a traitor, yet you sent him with us! Why?”
“I didn’t know he was a traitor. I rarely know anything for certain. I do not see the world as you do, full of certainty and order. Every decision I make is a judgment, based on the facts I have at the time, and the likely outcome.”
“But you suspected Breen had his own agenda!”
“Yes, I did. And I am sorry to be proved correct. What form did his betrayal take?”
“He tried to take me hostage. Who was he working for, Francin? And what did they want with me?” She would get to Etyan, but right now she wanted to take advantage of Francin’s unusual candour. Which was due, she realized, to her having information he did not, for once.
Francin put his elbows on the table, and rested his chin on his hands. “I don’t know for sure why you were targeted. But I will say that you underestimate your own value.”
“What? As a political hostage? But Zekt and Shen hardly speak as it is! What leverage would the Zekti royals expect to gain by holding a Shenese noble?”
“Hhhmm. You’ve become rather more worldly wise since we last spoke politics.”
Rhia wasn’t sure she had ever spoken politics with Francin; his aunt had brokered her marriage to Mekteph, and his uncle had told her how it damaged Shen’s interests when the wedding was called off. Then again, her cousin’s definition of politics was somewhat wider than hers. “I’ll take that as the compliment you intended. But my question remains: what would the Zekti want with me?”
Francin gestured, taking in the room and everything beyond it. “The world is changing, Rhia.”
Don’t I know it.
“The droughts are more frequent. Unrest is building. Historically the Harbinger has always brought change, and often chaos. When it arrives, I want to be in the best position to serve – maybe save – my people.”
“Meaning what?”
“Meaning many things. For a start, we must not underestimate the value of knowledge. That chest I had removed for safekeeping is irreplaceable. In the wrong hands it could be used to damage Shen. It is a valuable resource. You yourself, with your quick mind, wide knowledge and ability to think laterally, are also a valuable resource. Even more so given your position.”
“My position? As a noble?”
“Don’t be coy, Rhia. We’re past that.”
“The natural enquirers.”
“Yes, the natural enquirers. As an enquirer you have access to a web of wisdom and expertise greater than any one shadowland holds. So, when you willingly if unexpectedly went to Zekt, it was an opportunity to be exploited. The Zekti could put you to great use.”
“When you say ‘the Zekti’ you mean Prince Mekteph, don’t you?”
Francin inclined his head.
“I doubt he would be particularly well disposed towards me, given… past events. So why would I assist him now?” Even as the words left her mouth Rhia answered her own question. “Ah. He tried to take Etyan hostage too.” Which meant, she realized, that Mekteph could not have been behind their abduction from the caravan: far from coming after her, the rogue skykin had wanted Etyan, only taking her as well to ensure his good behaviour.
“Did he now? A logical move, I’m sure you will agree. People who refuse to cooperate with their captors, even when threatened with harm, often change their mind when the threat is to a loved one.”
“But Breen wasn’t working for Mekteph. He never met him.” Though he must have made contact with the prince’s agents in Zekt. Mekteph had found out Etyan was in the priory from Breen, and sent men to snatch him, to use against her. How well coordinated this was with their own infiltration she could not say; it was likely the two groups met by chance, both taking advantage of the regatta, prompting Breen to make his move. Which brought her back to the conclusion she had been hiding from ever since she left Zekt. She looked Francin in the eye. “Breen was working for Alharet.”
To his credit, Francin did not flinch. “An interesting assertion.”
“Who else could it be? She’s so fond of deflecting any discussion of her old homeland, so good at implying she wasn’t happy there. I chose to believe that, given it was my fault she had to leave it. But she was telling me what I wanted to hear. She was lying to me.” Rhia felt emotion break through, and fought to quash it. “I was fooled by her. But you aren’t so easy to fool.”
Francin looked at his hands, then back at Rhia. “I am also the ruler of this land.”
It took Rhia a moment to catch the implications of that statement. “You mean, you would allow a traitor the freedom to condemn themselves? Even when that traitor shares your bed?”
“I cannot act without evidence.”
“And now you have it. The duchess has acted against you, against us; against Shen.” Now she had acknowledged the truth – that her best friend had been using her, felt nothing for her, possibly even hated her – the pain was near physical. While she needed to bring the subject round to Etyan soon, she could not let this go yet.
The duke said nothing, but his silence was confirmation enough.
“You must arrest her, Francin!” Alharet’s betrayal hurt more than Polain’s had, when the boy she had mutilated herself for had said he didn�
��t really love her.
“No, Rhia. Not yet. I play the long game. A tipping point will come. Then I will act.”
“I can’t accept that!”
“I feel for you. But this isn’t about feelings. It’s about politics, about weighing costs against benefits.”
“And you would gain no benefit from acting now, so you won’t.” At that moment, she hated her cousin; or rather she understood him, and hated what he was, what he had to be. She had nothing to persuade him with except her pain, and pain was a weakness in his world.
Or maybe she did.
“Francin, what if I were to offer you access to more iron than you’ve ever dreamed of?”
She had never seen him look surprised. It was a comical expression on a face which rarely revealed his true thoughts. “What are you talking about?”
“Iron ore. There is a place, out in the skyland, where iron lies around for the taking. It is located in territory Shen has a claim to. I can lead you there.” She was reasonably sure of this; the route from the road had been hard, but not complex; Dej could certainly find the red valley again. Possibly the men who had rescued her and Etyan could, though it was unlikely, as they had travelled by night, led by Dej.
Francin sat back, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “Are you trying to bargain with me, cousin?”
“It appears I am, yes. I don’t like this game, Francin, but if you insist on playing it, I will participate.”
“So you could tell me where to find this source of iron, but you won’t unless I arrest my wife?”
“That’s right. It’s that simple.” She swallowed. “Unless you would have me tortured, or hurt Etyan to ensure my cooperation.” Given her other reason for being here, could Francin have predicted this whole conversation, and arrested Etyan as part of a deeper game? But his shock appeared genuine.
Francin’s gaze narrowed. Then his mouth twitched and he said, “I am an expedient, some would say hard, man. But I have boundaries. I do not hurt my own.”
Rhia hoped never to test that assertion. “So, will you arrest her?”
“Would the promise that Alharet will pay for what she has done when the time is right be enough for you?”
