[fan] diviners saga 02 - diviners curse

by Nicolette Andrews

  After that, conversation turned once more to lighter topics beneath Jon's guidance. I was fortunate to have him. He seemed to be a natural at these social negotiations.

  After dinner, the countess pushed back her chair and announced, "Come, Duchess Sixton, I would have you admire a recent acquisition of mine. I believe it to be of Danhadine origin."

  "It would be my pleasure, my lady." I looked over to Hilliard. He continued to avoid my gaze no matter how I tried to get his attention. It was frustrating beyond reason.

  The countess linked arms with me and showed me into an adjoining room, where a series of paintings were hung. "I collect art from all over the realms. It gave me comfort after my dear Henre passed in the war."

  I nodded absentmindedly and watched Hilliard as he wandered at the far end of the hall, admiring a painting hanging there. The countess laughed again, and I realized I had missed a joke of some sort. I forced a laugh before sliding away down the hall toward Hilliard.

  I looked up at the painting on the wall that he was looking at. It was an oil painting of a tree set against a dark backdrop. The wide spreading branches were bare and reached towards an inky black sky. At the base were four figures. A man with hair that shone like the sun stood to one side as he battled with darkness, a replica of himself but in dark shades and black hair. On the ground a woman with pale hair lay slain, her golden hair flared around her, and in the shadows, a hooded figure waited, hands grasping around the tree.

  I stared at it, transfixed by the figures so familiar and yet completely foreign.

  "When the moon swallows the sun and the innocent lay slain, his time shall come, and we shall all feel his reckoning," I said in a disconnected voice.

  Hilliard looked at me with a perplexed expression.

  "That is how I would interpret the painting. The fight for good or evil, but here an even greater evil waits to sweep all the pieces from the board."

  "Aye, you could say that, I suppose. Though I do not have a head for fine things like this." He swept a hand towards the painting.

  "Yes. You seem to be a man more inclined to strategy, I would think."

  His jaw was clenched tight. "What would make you say that?"

  I shrugged. "Call it intuition, I suppose."

  A small frown wrinkled his brow and made him seem much older than I remembered. I held out my hand to him with the parchment in it. I turned my back; that way the countess and her guests could not see what I was doing.

  "If you are interested in a partner for a game of chess, please come call any time."

  I dropped the folded bit of parchment in his hand and walked away to join Jon and the countess. I had not signed my real name, but I hoped from our conversation he knew enough to recognize me. In the parchment was where to find me. I dared not reveal more than that. I did not know what Hilliard's place with the countess meant, but I did not want my whereabouts to get into the wrong hands. Now I could only hope he would deliver my message to Damara.

  Chapter Thirteen

  AFTER THE COUNTESS' dinner party, I had not heard from Hilliard or Damara, which was disheartening. I dared not reveal myself further for fear that they either were ignoring my hint or Hilliard had not understood the meaning of my words. There was also the possibility that they could not come to me.

  I distracted myself by trying to find out more about Sarelle's death. To do that, I needed to go to the royal archivist. Every noble-born birth, marriage and death was recorded and stored in the lower levels of the palace. There were other records of stores and trades as well, but what I sought was the record of Sarelle's death. I needed more details, even though I suspected foul play. The official decree had been an accident. The most common rumor was that during a hunting accident, she had been thrown from her horse. Who was with her and who the horse belonged to was in constant debate from everyone I had spoken to about it.

  Beau helped me with a plan to get access to the archives, and unfortunately, Jon had to be a part of it. The carriage ride to the palace was tense. I had anticipated problems with Jon. I expected him to make an advance on me, but he never did. We slept in separate chambers, and he was nothing but respectable to me. This was not a real marriage but a farce in which we both sought our own gains. Despite that, I thought he would try to abuse the situation. He had not even mentioned plans to use my powers to garner influence. He was a gentleman and accommodating to all my whims; he did what I bid without question. It made me even more suspicious of him.

  "You're staring at me," he said with a crooked grin.

  My eyes darted away and out the window to the city whizzing by. "I was wondering why you've been so helpful."

  "I do not think I have ever been suspect for being helpful before." He laughed. "You still don't trust me, do you?"

  "And why should I trust a double-crosser?"

  He leaned back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest. "Why shouldn't you trust a double-crosser?"

  I forced a laugh to show him that I did not fear him. "I will acknowledge you are presumptuous. However, I know you crave power. You moved up quickly in Keisan, and I do not doubt you would see your star rise here in Sanore as well if you had the chance."

  "Is that what made you fall for me, Maea?" he purred, ignoring my assessment.

  Jon was the worst kind of trap, all honeyed words with fangs beneath them, waiting for the moment to strike at last. I will not let my guard down. "Don't think sweet words will woo me, your grace. I have been deceived before."

  His expression turned serious, and his mouth tilted down at the corners. "He really did kill the king, didn't he?"

  I studied the window to avoid meeting his searching gaze. I didn't want to talk about Adair. That's what I told myself over and over again, yet he continued to come up. Maybe he, too, was a piece in the puzzle just waiting to be solved.

  "He did," I said after a long stretch.

  "I am by no means a righteous man, but I would never kill a family member no matter what it would get me." From the corner of my eye, I saw him shake his head. "The Order is not what I thought it to be at first. There are deeper things at work that only the innermost circle is aware of, things I have only glimpsed but terrify me."

  That had my attention. I sat up a little straighter before leaning in towards him. "What kinds of things?"

  "I could not say, really. Dark magic, I fear, old magic long forgotten."

  The hairs on my arms stood up on end. The Order of the Oak may very well be tied into this as well, or worse, they were playing with something even more dangerous than the specter. That seemed unlikely if my visions were any indication of the true strength of the specter.

  "You should not tangle with them, Maea. Adair is powerful. He has already eliminated all that oppose him."

  "What do you mean?" Why are you telling me this now, a month after our sham marriage began?

  "Duke Magdale passed; they say from a weak heart. His son, who was my predecessor as ambassador, returned to Keisan to take his position as the head of House Magdale. Before I left, rumors flew that his father's widow had taken the new Duke Magdale to bed with her."

  I clamped my hand over my mouth. Lady Hana? She had married Damara's ally, Duke Magdale, shortly before I was tried as a traitor.

  "Do you suspect foul play?" I asked.

  "Mayhap. Duchess Magdale is ambitious, that is for certain, but I do not know if she is wise enough to orchestrate something so complicated. Besides, what could she benefit from the new Duke Magdale? No, I think she is trying to make sure she does not lose her position in court. She has become Queen Sabine's head lady-in-waiting."

  I looked away to hide my hurt. Of course, it would need to be done, but it did not make it sting any less.

  Jon continued on, not sensing my feelings. "Lord Thelron, Duke Florett, and Duke Wodell have all been given outlying posts. The Biski are attacking with more fervor just as they are in Neaux. I do not think these things are mere coincidence. We enjoyed ten years of peace under Ki
ng Dallin's rule, and now, we are set upon on all sides."

  "Even Jerauch?"

  "No, not from the north, Duchess Magdale assures that. She is the Jerauchian regent's daughter. I suspect she has King Adair's ear along with Duke Magdale's."

  My stomach sank, and I wrung my hands together. "How is Sabine?" It was the one question that had plagued me for a long time.

  He paused, and I looked up, imploring him. The question had been on the tip of my tongue for some time now, and I had not the courage to ask. I feared I would discover that my one true friend was not who I thought she was.

  "You really care for her, don't you?" he replied.

  His softened tone surprised me. I thought him a scheming courtier upon our first meeting. For the first time, I reassessed him. There was a crack in his teasing façade, and I saw a glimpse of the real man underneath.

  "Very much," I replied honestly.

  "She is a fair woman. I can see why you would admire her." He leaned back and did not continue for a moment. "She puts a brave face on her situation. She is excited for the child, but I know she does not love Adair. She heard rumors about your visions, and I told her what I heard you say at your trial. She fears for her child's future. She asked me to come here and find out about Sarelle's death. She and the princess had plans. They had corresponded, Sabine informed me, and she had convinced Sarelle to marry Prince Reynard. She is convinced her counsel is what led to Sarelle's untimely death."

  I was pensive for a moment, considering Jon's words. Beau had said the same thing to me, and unless they had corroborated stories, which I doubted, he had given me this story without prompting. I played my hand close to the chest and did not reveal my thoughts on his revelation.

  "Do you think Sarelle's death is linked to Sabine somehow?" I prompted him.

  He smiled. "That is what I have you for, Lady Diranel."

  I scowled at him, and he only laughed.

  "Be careful today. I would hate for you to incite an international war, once again."

  I glowered at him harder, but he only laughed harder still.

  When we arrived at the palace, Johai opened the carriage door for us. He was glaring at Jon, and I suspected he had heard parts of our conversation, if not all. His hair had been dyed again, this time to a deep ash color. He wore it braided down his back. He was dressed in his formal livery, maroon with six stars on the breast. I would rather not have had Johai along. His volatile moods and slipping control on the specter troubled me. He refused to leave me alone with Jon, insisting that he was going to try to betray me the moment we were alone. I agreed to it only to prevent an argument.

  Beau came around in matching livery to Johai's. He looked out of place dressed thusly. His shoulders were much too broad, even for the largest size at the villa, and it was taut across his chest. Beau had joined us for protection. After being attacked at the palace, I wanted to make sure someone with knowledge of swordplay was nearby, ready at the defense.

  We mounted the palace steps and walked past groups of courtiers chatting together. Ladies in airy gowns that fluttered in the breeze drifted past us. I wore a long-sleeved gown to fight the chill in the air, but those born to the mountain country seemed to consider the chilly weather summer.

  Jon smiled and called out to some of the young maidens who were walking under the sharp eyes of their chaperones. They giggled and whispered to one another behind their fans.

  "You are a married man," I hissed. He was drawing too much attention onto us. I wanted to slip into the palace with little fuss. It would be better to not arise suspicion.

  "Duchess Sixton, are you jealous?" He gasped and placed a hand upon his chest.

  I frowned at him and noticed the man, Eeland, whom I had met at the countess' dinner party, standing beneath a colonnade watching us. His gaze was hooded beneath his bushy eyebrows. A flood of courtiers bustled past after being let from their carriages.

  "Aoife?" Jon said as he offered me a bended arm. I stared at him, perplexed, before realizing he had used my false name.

  I took Jon's arm, and when I looked back to Eeland, he was gone.

  "We will need to make an appearance in the audience hall before heading to the archive," Jon instructed. "I am the Danhadine ambassador, after all. It would serve to at least make it seem that I am practicing my statecraft." He grinned and led me through the marble foyer and into a long hall beyond.

  The room was long and narrow. The ceiling was arched, and the room lined with thick colonnades, which also had squared stone arches. People gathered about from every social class, but the class lines were drawn. The nobles dominated the far end of the room by the throne, dressed in damask and silk, and behind them the merchants, and at the back of the room, some dressed just as opulently with flamboyant jewelry made of large gemstones and gold that I could see from across the room, and off to the sides and in the back, common folk milled about. They were swathed in rough-spun cloth and, more often than not, with dust clinging to their clothes.

  Jon cut us a path through the crowd, and we were advantageously placed beneath the throne. It was gold-leafed with a plush crimson cushion. And sitting upon it was Sabine's oldest sister, the despondent young woman with the strange cropped hair and a thin physique. Up close I could see she had the barest hints of curves, which she disguised beneath a loose gown that lent nothing to her willowy shape.

  "Where is King Reginald?" I asked Jon

  "The king has not made a public appearance in close to a seven-month," he whispered from the corner of his mouth. "More often than not, his daughter Princess Arlene holds audience on his behalf and brings him matters of great importance and settles smaller matters on her own."

  "I am surprised they are allowing a woman to rule," I mused.

  "It is not without vexations. Many question her judgment, and often times matters are relayed through the princess to the king for his decision."

  I watched the young woman with interest. A farmer from south of the palace had come to beg assistance for his burned crops. A Biski raid had destroyed his entire harvest. She listened to the man, eyes intent upon him.

  Courtiers hissed mockingly and spoke her name with contempt. The man, desperate to have his pleas heard, was wringing his hands and raising his voice to be heard over the courtiers' jeers. The result was a cacophony of noise that rivaled a flock of shrieking birds.

  "Enough!" the princess said as she shot to her feet. Her voice reverberated off the walls and echoed back to her.

  "Good sir," she said to the man, "speak with the royal treasurer, and he will see you compensated for your lost harvest."

  "Thank you, Your Highness!" he cried and bowed low to the ground. A palace servant helped him away.

  Her voice tugged at my memories. It seemed familiar to me, but I could not say where I had heard it before.

  "The princess has much control if all correspondence to the king goes through her," I said to Jon.

  "In part but that is also why she is not well loved at court. Many do not trust her because she is a woman and with much influence over policy in Neaux."

  I nodded, thinking about Jon's words. The princess was certainly someone of interest to be sure. I would have to keep a close eye upon her.

  "Before we adjourn today's hearings, I have an appointment to announce," Princess Arlene said in a ringing voice.

  A gentle murmur rippled through the crowd.

  "With the sudden death of Lord Jioth, the council has elected a new lord of the privy seal. Sir Eeland Yette has served faithfully upon the king's council for fifteen years, and it pleases the king to make him his lord privy seal and, with it, the title of Marquis of Rentron."

  I spied Eeland across the crowd. He had his hands folded in front of him, and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

  "We should go now, before the hearings are dismissed," Jon whispered in my ear.

  I nodded, and we slipped out behind a group of knotted courtiers. We met Beau in an empty hall, along with Johai.r />
  "Everything is prepared," Johai said.

  "Good." Jon clapped his hands together. "Are you ready to use your players' skills, my lady?" He smiled at me.

  My stomach was a ball of nerves, and I did not honor him with a reply. The royal archives were down a long narrow stairway, lit by torches every few feet. The yellow light was cast over the stones, and our shadows were long across the walls.

  The archives were behind a pair of double doors, and a wizened old man sat beside a desk with a massive tome in front of him. He did not look up as we entered and continued to write on the parchment. The scratching of his quill was the only sound for a few moments.

  "Good afternoon," Jon said.

  The man startled and looked up at the pair of us. His eyes were wide and dark as onyx. His curling hair was sparse on top, and the sides curled around his ears and down his back. "Oh, visitors. Hmm."

  "You are the royal archivist?" Jon asked as if it were not obvious. The man wore a massive chain around his neck with a golden seal and a rearing horse upon it.

  "The boy usually greets visitors," the old man said to himself.

  I did not think he had all his wits.

  "I saw a young man slipping away up the stairs," Jon supplied. "Your apprentice, I presume?"

  "Off to drink in the middle of the day; it is difficult to find those who seek knowledge as we did in the old days," the archivist mumbled to himself.

  "I am looking for a copy of the old Danhadine ambassador's logs. It seems my predecessor was not a good housekeeper, and all the records of staffing are gone. I have heard all records are kept in the archives."

  "Yes, the written words live beneath the palace, and I am their keeper." The old man tugged at a forelock and stared down forlornly at his parchment.

  "Perhaps you could show me to the records?" Jon prompted.

  The man huffed. "The boy should be here to do the escorting." He rose with a groan. His hands were stained with black ink. "Down this way. They are kept deep in the archive, I fear. Such a long walk. An old man should not make such a walk."

  "If you could tell me where they are, I could search them out on my own," Jon offered.