by Ian Irvine
One woman was a tall, slender redhead, the other small and curvaceous, dark of skin and hair and eye, and both were remarkably pretty. Every servant in the chancellor’s palace was young, attractive and female. What kind of a man was he? Tobry had mentioned unnatural appetites, and if the chancellor caught her here …
‘Has he come after you yet?’ said the small servant.
‘Not so much as a sidelong glance,’ replied the redhead, with a regret-steeped sigh. She stopped at a cross-corridor only a few yards ahead.
‘Me either,’ said the small woman. ‘Mother will be furious. I’m the last hope of our family and it cost a fortune in bribes to get me a place here. If it’s all been wasted, I don’t know how I’m going to tell her.’
‘How could he not like you?’ said the redhead. ‘Your face and figure are perfect; you’re clever, but not too clever …’
‘Do you think he inclines the other way?’
‘If he does, why surround himself with women? There’s not a single man in his palace.’
Heaving another sigh, the redhead turned down the other corridor. The small, dark woman came on.
Don’t see me.
She passed Tali only a yard away and, though she must have been visible from the corner of an eye, the woman kept going and disappeared around the next corner. I’ve still got it, Tali thought. I can still hide in plain view, better than anyone.
Shortly, she caught a faint scent of the grubby child she had held in her arms for hours as they escaped to Caulderon. Rannilt! Her scent was coming from a door to the left.
Tali poked her finger into the oval catch, flicked upwards and it opened, revealing a large, bi-lobed chamber like two fused circles. The right-hand lobe was half filled by a curved table of dark red wood polished to a mirror shine. A series of scalloped shelves, partly in shadow, curved around the walls behind the table.
In the centre of the other lobe, scattering dirt onto pink granite flag stones, stood a battered set of wooden punishment stocks such as Tali had seen several times in the ride through Caulderon. Dirty hands and feet protruding through them belonged to Rannilt, who was fast asleep and apparently unharmed, though so pale, so wan. And no wonder, after finding Luzia bloodily murdered.
Tali rubbed her eyes, momentarily overcome. ‘Rannilt,’ she whispered, gently shaking her. ‘Wake up.’
Rannilt slept on. Was she drugged or bespelled? Her breathing was strong and, when Tali pushed her eyelids back, her pupils weren’t dilated. Tali was looking for a way to unlock the stocks when an amused voice spoke behind her.
‘I confess myself disappointed, Lady vi Torgrist.’
She whirled. A small man sat in the shadows in the far corner, high-heeled boots up on the table. His crimson pantaloons were patterned with sequins, the lurid yellow velvet coat had ruby buttons and the cravat was purple. But the chancellor’s commanding voice did not fit — that hollow chest should have supported no more than a breathless whine. Tali reminded herself that he was a brilliant and powerful man, and cunning too. And he would have guards everywhere.
‘Why?’ she said warily.
‘I never thought you’d walk into such an obvious trap. I don’t know that I can use you after all.’
‘Good! Then I’m taking Rannilt with me,’ said Tali, though she had no idea if she was ever getting out of here. Surreptitiously, she felt along the top of the stocks, found the catch, and pulled. ‘I trust you’re done with her?’
‘I could be persuaded to give her up as an exchange.’
‘For me.’
‘Why do you think I lured you here?’
‘You have an over-healthy ego, sir,’ she said in her best Lady vi Torgrist voice.
He chuckled. ‘I’m chancellor,’ he said, as though that were answer enough. ‘The best hope of my people in this dire war.’
‘And I love my country and want to help,’ she said passionately. ‘But I don’t know anything about the enemy’s alchymical weapons.’
‘I didn’t ask you about their weapons,’ he said softly. ‘Approach the table.’
She did so, trying not to creep, until she was brought up by its curved edge. The chancellor frightened her more than Lady Ricinus. Everyone said how ruthless he was, and he controlled a nation. What did he want? She felt that he was looking inside her, reading her strengths, weaknesses, capabilities and potential, and judging how he could use her. She squirmed.
‘It’s said you claim that the Pale are slaves, not traitors,’ he said lazily.
‘It’s said you’re a clever man!’ she snapped.
He quirked a pencilled eyebrow.
‘Only a fool would believe that absurd lie about us. And you’re not a fool, Lord.’
‘What lie?’
‘That a group of noble child hostages would go over to the enemy.’
‘Hostages, if held long enough, often end up taking the side of their captors.’
He said it as a fact known to all, not trying to convince her. Tali felt the ground shifting beneath her feet.
‘Not us! All our tales say the same thing, and so do the enemy’s. They often gloat about it.’
‘What tales?’
‘That one hundred and forty-four children, from the noblest families in Hightspall, were given up to the enemy as hostages a thousand years ago — and never ransomed!’
‘All traitors seek to justify their betrayal.’
‘Hightspall abandoned its children to a thousand years of slavery. Why?’ she said furiously, leaning so hard into the table edge that it was bruising her.
‘If it did, it’s not in any history I’ve read.’
‘They would have covered it up!’ she cried. ‘Then justified their betrayal, the mealy-mouthed hypocrites.’
Her passion seemed to amuse him. ‘If they did, how can it be proved after so long?’
‘There must be letters, reports, all manner of documents in the city archives. You’ll find them if you bother to look.’
‘I don’t have time. I’ve a war to prosecute, one we’re losing badly.’
That shook her. Things must be really bad if he was prepared to admit it. She considered the man. Pleas for justice would never move him, but self-interest might. ‘There are eighty-five thousand Pale, Chancellor.’
‘So many?’ he said, and bright reflections drifted across his eyes.
‘And right in the middle of Cython,’ said Tali, improvising desperately. ‘If managed well, they might turn the war from the inside.’
‘Weaponless women and beaten men?’ It was almost a sneer, but not quite. Was he giving her the chance to argue her case?
‘If you offered them something to fight for, if you gave your word as chancellor that the Pale would be welcomed home and the truth told about their slavery — ’
‘And their ancestors’ property torn from its current owners and bestowed on them?’ he said harshly. ‘Is that why you’re really here?’
‘Is that why they were never ransomed? So the families would die out and their estates be given to others?’
‘I’m losing interest,’ said the chancellor.
Tali had to make a big concession, or lose. ‘The Pale must have some recompense, Lord. But there can be no justice in taking all from the present to restore to the past.’
‘Set the lead, then.’
‘I want House vi Torgrist’s plague manor. Nothing else.’
‘Satisfy me and you will have it. And for the other Pale?’
‘A tithe of what they once owned.’
He leaned back, the deep little eyes peering into hers. ‘A tithe divided among so many would hardly amount to a cottage each. How can that satisfy?’
‘To a lifelong slave, a cottage is a palace.’
‘Ah!’ he said, smiling. ‘Just so.’
‘You agree?’ said Tali, amazed. ‘You give your word?’
‘Would you accept it?’
‘I’m told you’re a man of your word, Lord.’
‘If only that were
all they say about me. Very well, you have my word. And in return, you will do something for me.’
‘Submit to interrogation about Cython?’
‘You’ll do that anyway, out of love for your country.’ He inspected her again, weighing her. ‘I wonder … if there were to be an uprising in Cython — ’
Tali had a sudden vision of Mia’s beheading and tunnels running with the Pale’s blood. What had she done? ‘But … but they’re weak, unarmed and cowed. They’d be slaughtered.’
The absurd little man sprang up, his nutcracker jaw working, and for the first time she saw the fervour in him.
‘I have no time! The enemy are at the gates and my people are being slaughtered right now. Pregnant women! Children! The frail elderly! Cython’s chymical weapons and incurable poxes and vile shifters are killing them indiscriminately.’ His tone moderated; he met her eye. ‘If the Pale wish to be accepted back as equal citizens, they have to fight. And yes, many will die.’
‘They can’t fight Cython by themselves.’
He sat, calm again. ‘Did I say they would be alone? The uprising must come at the moment we counterattack.’
‘When will that be?’
‘When we understand the enemy’s weapons and have developed tactics to defeat them. Months, perhaps years.’
‘Can Caulderon last that long?’
‘Not unless I can pull off some brilliant counterstroke.’ Again she felt that he was weighing her for a perilous task. ‘I fear we’ll have to abandon Central Hightspall and, in time to come, lead an army back here from over the mountains — if the ice doesn’t crush us first. Enough of tomorrow. Why are you really here?’
‘I came for Rannilt.’
‘Or did you come for this?’ said the chancellor.
He reached back over his head, plucked something off the lowest of the shelves and sat it on the table. It was an oval frame made from engraved silvery metal, enclosing a sheet of translucent, lustrous black mica. Two knobs spaced across the top of the frame were so worn that the knurling was almost gone.
‘This spectible,’ he said, leaning back with a self-satisfied smile that revealed small, perfect yellow teeth. ‘That’s what you really want.’
‘How — ’ Tali’s chest was so tight that it was hard to breathe. ‘How did you know?’
‘Lagger may have thought his inquiries were discreet, but if anyone asks about one of the seven devices brought here from Thanneron I will hear about it.’
‘The spectible was brought here?’ said Tali. ‘It’s that old?’
‘It came on the Second Fleet and it was an old device then. You want it to find your buried magery, I’m told.’
There was no point denying it. ‘Find it, and free it,’ said Tali. ‘Can it do that?’
‘It may be able to find it, since its purpose was to spy on magians from afar — ’
Tali leaned across the table, studying the ancient device. ‘How?’
‘By amplifying the subtle emanations that even the smallest magery creates.’
‘But if I’m not using my magery, surely it won’t be producing any emanations?’
‘I wouldn’t know,’ said the chancellor. ‘I don’t have that gift. Besides, the spectible can’t liberate your magery. All it does is see its emanations. You’ll have to find another way to free it, assuming you can get the spectible to see at all. My chief magian says it’s long dead.’
Yet you’ve taken the trouble to show it to me, she thought, though you’ve no time to waste on anything save the war. You must think it can be made to work, and you want me to do something no one else can do. If she could get the spectible to work, and wake the master pearl somehow, then let her enemies tremble.
‘I don’t know another way to free my magery.’
‘How did it appear the first time?’
‘It was after I smashed a sunstone at the Rat Hole.’ She started.
‘What?’ said the chancellor.
‘There are no sunstones here, but heatstones are stronger. So if I broke a small one — ’
‘Ingenious.’
‘Can I try the spectible?’
‘You can earn it.’
‘How?’
He was watching her, his eyes giving nothing away. ‘Make me an offer.’
What did he want? A liaison? The thought was revolting. ‘It’s said you have unnatural appetites …’
He laughed. ‘I spread that story myself.’
‘Why?’
‘The weak-minded need something to gossip about. And I like to be underestimated.’
‘But is it true?’
‘You’ve nothing to fear. In truth, I have no carnal appetites.’
‘Liar!’ she cried. ‘Your palace is full of beautiful young women. I haven’t seen a single man here.’
‘There are none, save me. Beautiful things are my particular joy, beautiful women most of all. Perhaps I should add you to my collection.’
She jumped, cracking her knee on the leg of the table.
He chuckled. ‘I ask nothing of them save a servant’s normal duties. It disappoints a surprising number of fortune seekers. How will you earn the spectible?’
Tali did not like telling tales. It felt underhand and dirty, but what choice did she have? ‘You said you know everything that goes on in Caulderon.’
‘Little escapes me.’
She took a heavy breath. ‘Then you’d know about the threat on your life.’
His small eyes narrowed. ‘Threats from fanatics and lunatics are one of the hazards of leadership. I’m well protected.’
‘Are you protected from a treasonous threat from a powerful family?’
That made him sit up and his nostrils pinch in. ‘If you know of such a threat, and seek to make capital out of it, you’re close to treason yourself.’
‘I don’t like you, Lord,’ she snapped, ‘but I will never stand by and allow my sovereign to be assassinated.’
The chancellor laughed. ‘I’m beginning to like you, Thalalie vi Torgrist.’ He pushed the spectible forwards a few inches. ‘If what you say is true, you shall have it. Who seeks to bring me down?’
‘Lady Ricinus.’
The smile vanished. ‘House Ricinus’s loyalty is not in question. It has just made Hightspall a mighty gift, one that could save Caulderon.’
Tali forced herself to stare into his eyes, hoping he would read the truth there.
‘Ricinus is so rich and powerful that even I have to tread carefully,’ he went on. ‘Do you realise what they’ll do to you, should they hear this allegation? Lady Ricinus will tear out your beating heart and choke you with it.’
CHAPTER 74
Lady Ricinus would do it, too. No wickedness was beyond her.
Tali’s stomach knotted, though not only from fear. If Rix discovered that she had informed on his parents it would destroy her friendship with him and Tobry. Well, she had started out alone; she would finish it alone.
‘I’ve so many enemies,’ she said, trying to pretend indifference, ‘I don’t see that one more matters.’
‘This one does.’ The chancellor steepled his fingers, which were as soft and smooth as a noble lady’s, though somewhat twisted, and stared at her over the tips. ‘Your evidence had better be good.’
She related how she had been hiding under Rix’s tub while the chancellor had given that ultimatum, and what Lady Ricinus had said afterwards.
‘The viper!’ he hissed. ‘I’ve always detested her. And Rixium heard this threat?’
‘I–I can’t say.’ She had not expected the question and knew her stumbling reply had betrayed him.
‘Of course you can. You’re trying to protect him and it won’t work.’ He met her eyes. ‘If he doesn’t inform me of this threat, he’s also guilty of treason and must suffer a traitor’s death.’
‘But you know, now,’ cried Tali.
‘Rixium doesn’t know I know.’
‘Why does he have to pay? He’s always defended you.’
‘He’s a good man!’
‘And I’m a swine who’ll enjoy seeing him squirm,’ said the chancellor. ‘But a tough swine, just what our country needs. What else do you allege Lady Ricinus said?’
Tali related the conversation she had overheard with Lord and Lady Ricinus through the peephole, and as she spoke, the chancellor’s thin face set in ever grimmer lines. He questioned her about every detail, then leaned back and studied his fingers.
‘The question is, do I believe you?’
Tali felt the blood drain from her face. She had not considered that, either.
‘A despicable Pale,’ he went on, ‘a habitual liar desperate to save herself, might make up false accusations against one of our noblest families. Accusations so incredible that no one could believe them.
‘Should I call Lady Ricinus over and give her the opportunity to defend her house?’ he said after a menacing pause. ‘She’s savage in protecting her own. She would tear your face off with her nails.’
Tali remembered how red her nails had been, and how sharp.
He looked her up and down. ‘You’re terrified, yet you neither defend yourself nor attack House Ricinus. Why not? You must have heard dirt on the lady of that house — everyone else has.’
‘I’ve told you what I overheard,’ said Tali, fighting to keep her voice steady. ‘I don’t smear my enemies’ names.’
‘I put my boot heel through their teeth,’ the chancellor said matter-offactly, ‘and grind them into the muck until they drown in it.’
Again she felt the weight of his regard, as if he were peeling away skin and bone to look inside her head and heart. Nothing could elude him. What was he going to do to her?
‘Extraordinary!’ He withdrew his boots from the table with a small thump. ‘I read much falsehood in you — hardly surprising in one who has lived as a slave — yet not an iota in this matter.’
