“Are we done here?” Rinli asked. “I, uh…have things to do. Like packing and stuff.”
“Of course,” Lisen said, and Rinli shot up, leaving her copy of the investiture agenda behind on the table, exiting the room between one breath and the next.
“She’s strong,” Nalin offered.
“Headstrong,” Lisen countered, combing her fingers through her hair. “Creators. I’d celebrate that in her if it weren’t for…” She pulled up short, and Nalin turned to look at her.
“If it weren’t for what?” he asked.
She looked to Korin who nodded solemnly. “Tell him. He’s your Will. He should know.”
“Yes,” she murmured.
Korin rose. “And while you’re talking, I’ll go see if I can comfort our daughter.”
Nalin waited as Korin left and Lisen took a few deep breaths. When she still failed to speak, he sought words to encourage her but found none.
“Rinli,” Lisen began finally, paused briefly, then continued. “Rinli pushed her friend, Madlen, just before we left the mesa.”
“She inherited your gift?”
Lisen turned in her chair to look at him. “Apparently.”
“You’re sure she…pushed?”
Lisen blew a breath out. “Korin and I both caught it.”
“Her friend?”
“Didn’t appear to notice.”
“And Rinli?”
“In denial. I’ve been after her ever since we got back, and she refuses to admit it happened, much less to accept my help to keep it from happening again.”
“Because the Thristans distrust hermit magic. Of course.”
“That’s only part of it.” Lisen sighed. “You heard her. She sees me as the grand manipulator who stole her innocent self from the simple life. Or something.”
“I have a mad thought.”
“You, Nal? A mad thought?”
“First, does Rinli want to be Protector? No, don’t answer that. Just listen for a moment. Let’s say she doesn’t. What if she doesn’t become the ruler of an independent Thristas? She could stay here, or she could go there, but she wouldn’t be scrutinized the way she would as your Thristan Heir.” Lisen nodded, and he leaned in towards her. “So, you toss the Treaty out and give Thristas its independence without Rinli. Then it’s done, and she’s free. And we can stay here and avoid the damn investiture. Because I have to tell you, Bala’s skittish about my going, and I don’t blame her.”
“Wait. Wait.” Lisen held up a hand. “First, what if Rinli is Mantar’s Child?”
“You believe that? That silly Thristan prophecy?”
“I don’t know what I believe. But I have a treaty with the desert, and part of that treaty is the claim on both mine and Korin’s parts that she is Mantar’s Child. Can I just ignore that now? And if I do choose to toss it all out, where does that leave every Empir who follows? I gave my word, and maybe it’s foolish of me to keep it, but I can’t back out on it.”
“Now who’s being headstrong?”
“No, Nalin. Listen to me. Right or wrong, Garla and Thristas are preparing right now to implement an impossible agreement. But not impossible. Every step in the process over the years since the One-Day War has been forward. We may not see the progress from one day to the next, but if I were to produce just the agendas for this investiture as we’ve drafted and redrafted them over the last couple of years and laid them out here on the table, I think it would be clear to anyone that everyone is cooperating, and that is definitely progress.”
“Well, I did say it was a mad thought.”
Lisen laughed. “It was a good mad thought, but it’s about fifteen years too late. I’m sorry about Bala though. It’s a hard time for her to watch you run off to the desert. Why did you choose now to have another baby?”
“Simple.” And he knew. He knew what he hadn’t known before. It was simple. “We did it in case I don’t come back.”
Another day, and Lisen fiddled with her breakfast, watching as Korin did the same. Tomorrow, he and Rinli would leave for Thristas, and apparently he, like herself, felt the melancholy of this last day together. They’d said nothing, of course, shared none of their feelings about this, not really, but ever since the signing of the Treaty, they’d known this day was coming. And like reasonable people, they’d ignored it. Not the facts of it, of course. Those they’d prepared for. But Lisen floundered in the great wave of emotions that washed over her, consuming her in their imposing power. Korin was leaving.
Oh, pish. He’s left before.
But this time would be different. Once he and their daughter left, he’d return with her, twice a year as usual, but for Council sessions only which meant a reunion of a too-short two weeks and then he’d be gone again. And this would last for a minimum of two years, probably longer.
“You feel it, don’t you,” she finally said, and Korin tossed his fork onto his plate.
“Like the Destroyer ripping at my guts.”
“It’s not as though we didn’t know.”
As pitiful an expression of justification as it was, he went along with it. “We knew.”
She dived straight into the deep brown of his eye. “But,” she said slowly, “we couldn’t see.” She sighed and twirled her fork around in her eggs. “Of course, we’ll see each other in September.”
“For a few days. With a thousand Thristans all around us. But I’ll be back in November for two full weeks.”
“‘Full’ is right. Two weeks of Council. And when you leave here in November, you’ll be gone for six months until May. After that?” She shrugged. “It might as well be forever.”
“But think how thrilling our reunions will be.” He smiled wanly.
“Even you don’t believe that one.”
A knock at the door stifled their misery, if only briefly, and Lisen looked up, grateful. “Yes? Enter.”
The door opened, and Commander Tanres stepped in. “My Liege, Korin. One of the guards we sent to bring Holder Dors back has just arrived. He says his companion and the holder should be coming in behind him within the hour.”
“Well, thank the Creators.” Lisen didn’t know how Tanres would interpret her words, but she could see by Korin’s expression that he understood. Anything to distract them from obsessing over tomorrow. With a nod, the commander left, closing the door behind her, and Lisen looked to her spouse. “Shall we?”
“What about Rinli?” he asked.
“If she’s not too overwhelmed.”
“Then you ask her. I think she’d appreciate the invitation coming from you.”
Lisen nodded, got up, leaving her food untouched save for the fiddling, and started to head out. “Oh, and let Nalin know.”
“Yes,” Korin replied. “I’ll see to it.”
Lisen left Korin there and went to Rinli’s room. She knocked softly at the door and said, “Rinli? May I come in?”
She heard a bit of shuffling, and then the door popped open revealing her daughter looking stressed. “What do you want?” she asked, though she sounded more tired than irritated. Lisen could see a couple of open satchels on the girl’s bed and a floor covered with clothes and other possessions.
“Tazori Dors will be here in an hour or so. I’d like for you to join us for his interview.”
The corners of Rinli’s lips curled up ever so slightly. A smile? her mother wondered.
“You mean interrogation, don’t you? And, yes, I’d like that. But if I’m not down there in time, would you send someone up for me? Packing, you know.”
Oh, I know, Lisen thought, the pain of loss nearly catching up with her, but she managed a cheery tone when she replied. “Certainly. I’ll see you in my office.”
“I’ll be there.” And without further formality, Rinli shut the door. Abruptly.
Lisen turned away and headed down the stairs. She entered Jazel’s office first and was greeted by two clerks instead of one.
“Good morning, my Liege,” Jazel said. “This is Chesa Ama
dor, my replacement.”
“Your replacement. Of course. Welcome Chesa.”
“My Liege,” the woman with hair darker and redder than wheat acknowledged.
“Jazel, Tazori Dors is on his way in. He should arrive in an hour. In the meantime, is there anything I should know about?”
“No, my Liege. Only something from Holder Tuane. I didn’t open it.” She handed a folded and sealed letter up to Lisen.
“For me?” she asked, thinking the letter must be intended for Nalin, but it was her name written neatly on the side of the packet opposite the seal. “Yes, I see.” She started to leave but stopped at the door. “I think it would be a good idea to have you in there, taking notes.”
“Aye, my Liege.”
“And your protégé as well.” Lisen nodded, then left the two clerks behind as she stepped into her office.
Alone for the moment, she sauntered over to the conference table as she fiddled with Bala’s letter. Looking at it, turning it over several times, studying the seal, then returning to her name written in Bala’s clean hand. Lisen envied anyone whose handwriting exhibited such mastery with the pen. Her writing had slipped abysmally down into the void of—generously put—the unreadable, thanks, she believed, to the fact that her clerks wrote nearly everything for her.
She sat down and broke the golden-wax seal, then paused, wondering. Why was Bala writing to her? Open it. She’d never know until she did.
My Liege,
Please know that I support you in all that you do, and that will never change. I must, however, ask a kindness of you. I do not want my spouse traveling to Thristas for your daughter’s investiture. Perhaps I am having more difficulty with this than anticipated because of my recent pouching, but I only know that I fear for his safety.
I accept that I cannot on my own dissuade him from this. He is loyal to you and serves you with honor as your Will. That being the case, I still beg. Withdraw your request that he accompany you.
Your humble servant,
Bala Tuane, Holder of Minol
Lisen stared at the letter, the pit of her stomach like lead. She would never deliberately do anything to frighten or hurt Bala, but she had hoped to have Nalin as a traveling companion on the road to a destiny both she and her daughter must learn to embrace.
She folded the letter up, took it to her desk and hid it in a drawer. Later. She would definitely consider Bala’s request. But, later.
She looked up from where she stood as Korin strode in. He walked directly to his place at the conference table but stood there, waiting. She grabbed the notes—the notes she kept readily available on her desk—and moved to join him. Once she’d sat down and set her notes on the table, he took his chair as well.
“I’m glad you’re still here,” she said.
“So am I, but what brought that on?” he asked, turning to her with a smile.
“Dors. It’s good to have both you and Nalin here to question him.”
“Good.”
She ached for an answer to the who in the assassination equation and knew that Korin shared her desire. The next few months were going to be difficult enough without having to worry about whether or not some hired sword awaited an opportunity to attack herself or anyone she loved.
The door from the hall opened, and Nalin entered.
“Nal,” she said simultaneously with her spouse’s “Holder.”
“My Liege, Korin.” Nalin made his way at an easy pace to his chair at the conference table and took his seat. “How long do we have do you think? Until Tazori arrives, that is.”
“Probably another half hour or so,” Lisen replied.
And with that, they slipped into casual conversation—about children and pouching and the state of the grapes in the Tuane vineyard. They continued talking until Rinli arrived, stepping into the room with her dark hair braided with orange and black ribbons. Orange for Korin’s heritage and the black of the “one-without-family.” Interesting.
Rinli headed to her spot across from the adults, but Korin rose and gestured to the chair to his left. “Rin, come sit over here. We want to give Holder Dors plenty of room across from us.”
Rinli nodded and silently took the chair her father offered. Lisen smiled. Korin knew what to do. Always.
Rinli’s arrival sucked the comfortable chatter from the room. Everyone sat quietly as they waited, startled from their silence when Jazel and Chesa entered, paper, stylus and ink in hand. Jazel set her things down on the table at the chair to Nalin’s right and announced, “Holder Dors is waiting in my office. The commander is with him.”
“Bring them in,” Lisen said and pulled out the notes of questions she wanted him to answer.
The new clerk…Chesa…left and returned only a moment later, Tazori Dors following behind her with Tanres coming in last. Dors held his head high and made direct eye contact with Lisen as he sat down as directed opposite her. Once Chesa and the commander had taken their places, with everyone facing the holder, Lisen spoke.
“Thank you, Tazori, for responding so swiftly.”
He smiled, showing off a fine set of teeth, and tossed his head, his thick black hair falling smoothly back into place. He was certainly a wonder of good looks. “My pleasure, my Liege, Nalin, Captain Rosarel. Oh, and the child who forced the union.” His blue eyes flashed with sarcasm’s wicked joy.
“Now, my lord,” Lisen began, ignoring his last remark, “my guards were instructed to tell you that an attempt was made on my life about two months ago.”
“And you immediately thought of me. How delightful.”
“Actually, we began with several suspects on our list,” Tanres informed him.
“Including my own daughter,” Lisen added. “But as you can see, we’ve eliminated her, along with all but you and another.”
“Why me, pray tell?”
“The clothes the woman wore,” Nalin said, “were made of wool from the caral, an animal that grazes only in the north and whose wool is prized for weaving by northern folk.”
“In other words,” Lisen added, “her clothes were of northern derivation.”
“Many people live in the north,” Tazori countered, “and there are several holdings.”
“We eliminated my cousins, the Sakals of Grimmal,” Nalin replied, “along with Elor Zanlot.”
“And how did that little spawn of wickedness manage to remove himself from suspicion, might I ask?”
Korin smiled. “His demeanor didn’t fit.”
“You trust him to tell you the truth?”
“No, my lord,” Lisen responded evenly. “I trust my spouse to read the movements and carriage of a person when questioned. It wasn’t him.”
“And now,” Tanres interjected, “it’s down to you and one other.”
“And who is that?”
“Irrelevant,” Korin declared.
“Captain,” Tazori said, his snide tone slipping out for all to hear, “I do not recognize your authority. I ask again, who?”
“Irrelevant,” Lisen stated as firmly as Korin had. “And I recognize my spouse’s authority, so show him whatever respect you’d accord me.” She knew his respect for her amounted to little, but he could, at least, pretend.
“Then, what’s my motive?”
“You had feelings for Lorain Zanlot, did you not?” Nalin asked.
“I did.” He turned to look at Lisen. “I did not, however, have feelings for your predecessor, my Liege.”
“Excuse me?” she asked.
“Why would I send someone after you? You didn’t kill Lorain. If I were to sink to assassination, it wouldn’t be you I’d go after; it would be your Will.”
“And you expect that alone to clear you.” Korin’s tone rang firm and dark through the room.
“Once again, I remind you, motive. Motive is everything. One doesn’t kill without reason. I certainly don’t.” He focused directly on Lisen. “My Liege, you know all about killing. You must understand this.”
Lisen looke
d to Nalin, then to Tanres, and finally to Korin. When they all nodded, she returned to Dors. “Thank you for coming all this way to answer our questions. I apologize for the imposition on your time.”
“And so it ends,” Tazori commented as he rose. “A long ride here, a long ride home, with but a few moments of conversation in the middle.”
“I am sorry,” Lisen repeated. “Your prompt response allows us to move closer to a resolution of our investigation. I’m sure you can understand the importance of that.”
“Oh, I do.” The black-haired holder started for the door but paused there and turned back before opening it. “And, Nalin, watch your head.” With a smile and a wicked blue flash from his eyes, Tazori left them. His words remained behind, bouncing from one wall to the other in the silence.
“Nasty little man,” Lisen mumbled.
“Was that a threat?” Rinli asked. “I mean, that sounded like a threat to me.”
“Yes, it was a threat,” Nalin replied with a sigh. “I’m surprised he hasn’t threatened me before this.”
“My lord,” Korin said, “the guards the Empir sent with you are still in Seffa?”
“Yes.”
“Commander,” Korin said, “perhaps we should consider doubling his security.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Nalin protested. “I’m—”
“I’ll see to it,” the commander said, interrupting him, then rose from her chair and exited the room.
Jazel stood up, her tools in hand. “My Liege, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go organize my notes now while they’re still fresh in my mind.”
Lisen waved a hand in Jazel’s direction, signaling her agreement, and in a hasty moment, Jazel, her trainee in tow, was gone.
“Do you need me?” Rinli asked. “I still have packing to do.”
“No,” Lisen replied. “You can go.”
Rinli jumped up and ran out of the office, as though she couldn’t put enough space between herself and this meeting.
Lisen sighed. “Just when I think I’m making progress.”
“You are making progress,” Korin reassured her.
“I want some wine,” she said and got up. “Anyone else?”
“No. Thank you,” Nalin replied as he stood up and grabbed his cane. “I have to get a note off to my spouse, prepare her for the arrival of additional guards.”
Protector of Thristas: A Lisen of Solsta Novel Page 17
