The GodSpill: Threadweavers, Book 2

by Todd Fahnestock

  “Who?”

  “Kari’Dar was slain. Grimbresht died in a sailing accident weeks ago, though he was a vocal opponent of Sym. I think it was no accident that he died. I do not know about Rol’if. Baerst has been sick and was not at court, but Lady Ti’shiria escaped, as did Lady Mae’lith.”

  Vullieth went on to describe how Sym had solidified his power in the past days. His guards were posted at every crucial post in the castle. Practically nothing happened in the castle that Sym was not privy to. He monitored the city, creating patrols or guard stations using the soldiers of his loyal nobles. Vullieth explained that it was blind luck that he discovered Medophae was back in the city. One of the soldiers accompanying the official that stopped them last night was Balis’s man, but he didn’t like Sym and didn’t like what was happening in Teni’sia. He’d passed the word to Vullieth. He had served in the palace for a long time, and recognized Medophae.

  “And Sym thinks you are one of his loyal nobles?” Medophae said.

  “Yes.”

  “How? You opposed his father’s coup.”

  Vullieth’s face grew grim. “He believes that I am beside myself with rage at King Collus and his brother, the bastard of Bendeller.”

  “Are you?” Medophae asked, seeing the flush on that freckled face.

  “Not enough to betray my country,” Sym said. “He thinks me ruled by my emotions, and it is to my advantage to allow him to think this.”

  “Why didn’t you fight him? Why didn’t you stop the coup?”

  “It was over before I knew it had happened,” Vullieth said. “The king and his brother vanished, and Sym’s attack on the others came quickly. If I had fought him outright, I would have lost. But inside the palace, I foresaw that I could consolidate the lords who fled, and strike later from a position of stealth and strength. And now you have returned, which I take as a good sign. Even some of Sym’s lords might rally behind you. To many of us, you are an extension of the queen we dearly loved.”

  “I think you played it smart,” Medophae said.

  “And,” he said, “there is something else. I think there is an advisor behind Sym, someone giving him orders.”

  Zilok. Medophae frowned. “I think you’re right.”

  “The kingdom has been strange and tumultuous since you left. Have you heard of the Wave-altered?”

  “The inspector at the dock mentioned something. Are you talking about threadweavers?”

  Vullieth raised his chin at that, as though he didn’t like hearing the word. “Is that what they are, captain?”

  Medophae nodded. “The GodSpill has returned to the lands. With it comes threadweavers. Anyone exhibiting strange abilities is likely a threadweaver.”

  “Sym has quarantined an entire building for the Wave-altered.”

  “We’ll deal with that next. But first, we need to put a new ruler on the throne. A legal ruler. Not Sym.”

  “We may have an advantage yet. I do not believe the king is dead.”

  Medophae leaned forward intently. “How do you know?”

  “My intelligence reports that the king and a few of his loyal guards may have escaped into The Barnacles. Sym sent an entire troop of soldiers to recover them. I don’t know what happened after, but Sym has been scouring the city, so I think he must have escaped.

  “I wish to find the king and retake the throne for him,” Vullieth added, and his hard black eyes smoldered. “And I wish to erase Sym’s line from the Teni’sian royal scrolls. And from the lands, for that matter. Treason runs in their blood.” He paused a long moment, searching Medophae’s face. “Will you help me?”

  “Of course. But if I find that you are false, Lord Vullieth... If you are playing the wrong side of this struggle, I’ll see you pay for it.”

  Vullieth offered a thin smile.

  The two men stood and shook hands.

  “There are many within the city and the castle who are still loyal to Collus,” Vullieth said. “Sym wants to close an iron fist on the populace, but there is a good deal of confusion. It is possible there are messengers who sneak out at night to report to the king. We may be able to get a message to him, and while I do not believe Collus will trust me out of hand as I have publicly declared for Sym, those who protect him will trust you. Captain Lo’gan vanished the night of the assassination attempt, as did several of the royal guard. I would like to believe they are with the king. If we could join forces with him and the nobles who fled, we could remove Sym from power.”

  “See if you can get a message to the king,” Medophae said. “I will go to him.”

  Vullieth moved to the door and opened it. “I apologize that I must cut this short, but every moment I am away is dangerous. It would not take much for Sym to suspect me. I will send word to you tonight here at the inn.”

  Vullieth left, his long black cloak fluttering through the doorway behind him. The guards followed one after the other, leaving Medophae standing in the hallway with Casur.

  “With your leave, sir, I’ll get back about my duties,” Casur said. “I’ve never been part of a revolution before.”

  “Go softly, Casur. Take care.”

  With a flash of white teeth, Casur ran off into the darkness.

  41

  Mershayn

  Mershayn tried to get comfortable in the chair. It was late, and he wished he was lying down. Deni’tri had somehow managed to procure some cushions for him, but it didn’t make a difference. Every position he sat in sent a spike of pain to his head. Even lying down did not help much, but it was better than this.

  He right eye was still ruined, showing nothing but a light blur, and he tried to keep his eyes closed when he had no need for them. At least the vertigo was somewhat manageable. If he moved slowly and concentrated on keeping his head steady, the room only spun a little.

  He coughed, resenting again the smoke from the torches. The cave only had two entrances. They could not very well install a chimney. At least there was something of a draft to keep the smoke from choking them all to death.

  Deni’tri stood by his chair. It had been two nights since Collus died in that muddy basement, and she hadn’t left his side. Apparently, Mershayn had been unconscious for a lot of that time, but he wondered if Deni’tri had slept at all. Surely she must have, but every time he bubbled to the surface, groping for a hand to steady him, she was there.

  Mershayn felt like an old man, to need such constant attention. At moments, he found himself wanting to give up. He could not see himself storming the walls of the castle. He could barely walk from this chair to the distant mouth of the cave.

  But something had changed in him when he took Silasa’s hand and followed her to this place. When Collus died because of Mershayn’s mistakes, it was as though his soul—a molten blob of metal—had suddenly been hammered into a sword. Mershayn had a purpose: To wreak vengeance upon Sym. He would not give up. He would not lie down to accept his fate. If need be, he would crawl back to fight Sym. He would die to bring that murderer down, and that was the only place he would die.

  Even inside the constant pounding of his head, Mershayn saw what needed to be done, and he told Lo’gan what to do. Everyone seemed to sense his resolve, and they fed on it. Lo’gan stopped hesitating. He was back to his old self, taking Mershayn’s orders and giving orders crisply and confidently down the line. At Mershayn’s suggestion, he had been recruiting. For the last two days, many of Lo’gan’s loyal guards had joined this fledgling resistance. He still had people in the city who reported to him, and he let no one know about this cave, save Deni’tri and the two guards who had stood with them at The Gutted Fish. But he had created a hidden camp north of the city, up in the mountains, far enough from the cave to be unconnected, far enough from Teni’sia to be undetected. It had already grown larger than they could support with more than fifty soldiers ready to fight. Local farmers aided them, sending food and supplies, but if they became any larger, they would be noticed. Despite Lo’gan’s efforts, someone loyal to
Sym was going to find the camp eventually. They needed to make their move soon.

  And, as if destiny had heard them, they’d received a curious message today from Lord Vullieth. He had already tried to contact them twice, already offered to help them, but Mershayn did not trust Vullieth in the slightest. The uptight lord had been loyal to Collus, but Collus was dead. Once he discovered that Mershayn was the leader here, he would become an implacable enemy. How could the most powerful lord in Teni’sia support the bastard who had slept with his wife?

  And according to Lo’gan, the lord had already publicly declared himself in support of Sym, who had now officially taken the throne.

  So Vullieth’s first two messages had been ignored. The third, however, contained something different. In today’s message, Vullieth claimed that the legendary Captain Medophae had returned. The lord wanted to send Captain Medophae with a message, as he realized why Collus and Mershayn might not wish to trust him. Medophae would come with his companions and none of Vullieth’s men. Lo’gan himself had gone to meet them, to see if it was, in fact, Medophae and not some imposter. Deni’tri argued with him, saying that she should be the one to go, but Lo’gan would have none of it. In the end, he’d ordered her to stay with Mershayn and rowed off with two other guards in a longboat.

  Mershayn didn’t think it wise to risk it, but he had agreed with the plan. He kept his mouth shut and waited for events to unfold. The bait of Captain Medophae’s return was far too much for Lo’gan to resist. It was—very probably—the simplest trap in the world, and Lo’gan had rowed into the center of it. Even if this Medophae had returned, who was to say that he wouldn’t side with Sym as the kingdom’s rightful ruler?

  In addition, the camp’s scouts had reported strange sights during the night. No threats from Teni’sia to the south, but lights danced around the peaks of the Corialis Mountains to the north. They whispered that all of the lands were going to change again, that a second Wave was coming.

  “Have you not thought that Medophae himself may surrender us to Sym?” Mershayn grumbled to Deni’tri.

  “No, my lord,” she said dismissively.

  “The rightful king is dead. Sym’s bloodline is the most pure after Collus’s bloodline. If this Medophae knew that Collus is dead, he would back Sym.”

  “No,” Deni’tri said adamantly.

  “Excellent. A fine argument. Do you have anything factual to support this conclusion?” Mershayn asked.

  “First, Medophae would never side with someone who took the throne by such a means. He is a fair man, if nothing else. You would know this if you had been here when Queen Tyndiria’s parents died, when my queen claimed her rightful heritage. Grendis Sym’s father, Magal Sym, tried to assassinate her. It was Medophae who saved her. It was Medophae who slew Magal Sym. He would not support this man’s son under these exact same circumstances.”

  “If he knows that Collus is dead, he may look upon the situation differently than you do. He supported Tyndiria because she had the legitimate claim.”

  “No,” Deni’tri said simply.

  Mershayn clenched his teeth, then stopped because it made the throbbing in his head even worse. Instead, he focused on the mouth of the cave, staring into the darkness outside. It was only because of this that he noticed Silasa enter, silent as a shadow.

  “Ah, the vampire has emerged at last,” Mershayn said. “Why do you not come to see me except at night, I wonder? What do you do during the day?”

  “Your humor is brittle,” she said. “Give me something juicy.”

  Laughing would have been a bad idea, so he didn’t, but he liked Silasa’s dry wit. “We were having an argument about this phantom Captain Medophae and his supposed return—”

  “Medophae has returned.”

  Deni’tri perked up at this. “It is true then? You know?”

  “I have seen him.”

  “And how would you know him?” Mershayn drawled. “Teni’sia is not your home. You said so yourself.” He closed his eyes. The strain of arguing with her sent wave after wave of pain into his right eye.

  “I know Medophae from long ago,” Silasa said.

  “What, two years?”

  “Much longer than that.”

  “Did you know him as a baby? Because Deni’tri says he is barely twenty years old.”

  “Cultivate patience, Mershayn of Bendeller. It will be worth the wait.”

  “Unless this is an ambush,” Mershayn said. “I do not relish waiting for that.”

  To’miln came running to the back of the cave at that moment. He drew up short and bowed to Mershayn. Mershayn nodded to him and immediately regretted it.

  “They are here, milord,” the guard said. “Captain Lo’gan has returned. He comes with...strange company, my lord.” He glanced nervously at Deni’tri. “But it is Captain Medophae. His hair is long and wild, but he stands as ever the Captain did. I would know him anywhere.”

  “How is his company strange?” Mershayn asked.

  “There is a child with them. At least that is what I thought at first glance, but I doubt myself now. I think he may be...some other kind of creature. Perhaps a Wave-altered. He wore a hooded cloak, but pushed it back when they came close to the shore.” He hesitated, looking back at the mouth of the cave, then turned back to Mershayn, his voice lowered. “He has silver hair, shiny as a coin. Silver eyes, and pointed ears. I’ve never seen the like.”

  “And that is all?”

  “No, there is a woman. She seems normal enough, but she has a dog, if you can call it that. Nearly the size of a horse, and no fur at all. It’s... I don’t know what to say about it, sir, but I wouldn’t turn my back on the thing.”

  Boots crunched up to the entrance, and Lo’gan appeared. He came forward and knelt before Mershayn. As he did so, four figures hung back from the entrance of the cave—three people and the huge dog To’miln had described. The dog and the boy were too far away to see anything but silhouettes. The man was tall like Vullieth, well-muscled in the shoulders. The woman was covered by a cloak, and she wore her cowl.

  Lo’gan stood again. “My lord, Captain Medophae is here with his companions.”

  “To’miln says they come with giant dogs and silver-haired boys.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  “What do you think of that?”

  “His companions are odd,” Lo’gan said. “But I trust Captain Medophae with my life, and I would trust him with yours. Will you see him, my lord?”

  “Is that not what I have waited up for?”

  Lo’gan nodded smartly and returned to the cave’s entrance. He conferred briefly with the huge man who must be Medophae. He and the woman came within the light of the torches, and at last Mershayn could see them with his good eye. Medophae moved like a fighter, and Mershayn realized that the stories of his prowess were likely true. He had golden hair that hung past his shoulders and almost seemed to float of its own accord. He gave Mershayn a respectful nod. As Deni’tri described, he was unbelievably young for how much power and respect he seemed to wield. Twenty years old? Hardly. This boy couldn’t be to the end of his teens.

  The most startling of the four were the boy and the dog, though. The boy clearly was not human. His tall, pointed ears would have been comical if not for the stern expression on his young face. His cheekbones were almost square and his chin was very long. His eyes were large and as silver as the boy’s hair.

  The woman removed her hood. She was also young, and beautiful in that country girl kind of way that he had found so alluring so many times in his past. She didn’t flinch at his gaze, looked directly into his good eye as though studying him for a weakness.

  “My lord Mershayn,” Captain Medophae said, and he knelt as Lo’gan had knelt. “Thank you for agreeing to meet us. I realize that you are untrusting at the moment, but we are here to help you.”

  “So you are Captain Medophae?” Mershayn asked.

  “I am.”

  “You are...younger than I imagined.”
r />   “I am often told that.”

  “You are as enigmatic as my mysterious protector, whom apparently you’ve known for ‘a long time’.” Mershayn said sourly.

  “Your protector?” Medophae asked.

  “She was behind me, somewhere in the shadows. Look long enough, and you may find her. If you can’t see her, I don’t blame you. I rarely can.”

  “I am here, Mershayn,” Silasa said, stepping forward to stand next to him.

  “Silasa!” Medophae blurted in obvious surprise.

  “Hello again, Medophae. You look...better than when I last saw you,” she said.

  “You’ve been busy,” he said.

  “Belshra was a ruin. So I came here to help.”

  “It seems you’ve been helping all over the place.” Medophae glanced back at the silver-haired boy, who watched Silasa with reverence. He put his fist over his chest, then knelt to her.

  “It’s a long story for another time,” she said.

  Medophae seemed about to say something more, but held his tongue. A strange smile flickered over his face, then he turned back to Mershayn. “Fate favors you, Mershayn,” he said.

  “All evidence to the contrary,” he said. His head throbbed.

  “Lord Vullieth is behind you and the king,” Medophae said. “That’s what I’m here to tell you. He sent me because he knew, at least, those who protect you would believe me, even if you do not.”

  “Vullieth has declared for Sym,” Mershayn said.

  “As a ruse. He believes he can best help Collus recover the throne by working from inside Teni’sia.” Medophae paused. “Alas, Lo’gan informed me of what has befallen your brother. I am sorry, Lord Mershayn.”

  “As am I.”

  “But I am certain he would just as readily put his soldiers behind you instead of behind Sym. His offer still stands.”

  Mershayn gave half a laugh, then clenched his teeth as the room spun and he nearly lost his dinner. He swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. “I would not be so certain of that,” he managed to say. “And I am not king. I’m merely...orchestrating a way to bring Sym down. Once I’ve done that, the Teni’sians can choose their king. Lord Vullieth himself, perhaps.”