“That last part, at least, isn’t news to me.” Leisha swept her mind over his again. He believed his words and felt outraged someone would deceive her like this. “How could I ever know if you’re what you say you are?” she asked, curious how he would answer.
“I know you can read minds. You’re probably doing it now.” He waited to see if she would react, but she only watched him, her impassive face revealing nothing. Though he had secrets to keep, he remembered how Cezar betrayed him, and ambition urged him on. He saw her relaxing, willing to listen. “Read mine and see I’m sincere. I’ll submit willingly and completely.”
“That at least explains your attempts to calm me.” She allowed herself a small smile. “Very well done, master spy. And you aren’t afraid of what I can do?”
“No.” He meant it. His thoughts contained no trace of fear or loathing the way the minds of her nannies always had.
Leisha considered for a moment, mulling the idea over. Reading the shallow thoughts of people required no effort on her part, any more than breathing or seeing did. It reminded her of sitting in a room and listening to other people’s conversations. But delving deeper and sifting through their memories seemed much more difficult. She had never attempted it and barely remembered reading about it in the tiny book from the library.
She stepped back into her room and motioned the stranger forward. “Just inside the door, where I can see you. Stay there. Any movement towards me and I’ll call the guards and have you killed on the spot. This will likely be unpleasant for you. Do you still agree?”
“Absolutely, Your Highness.” He said it with such conviction, imagining he could gain her trust this way.
Focusing her attention on the man, Leisha tried to remember the lessons from the book. For a few moments, she just listened, hearing the chatter of his thoughts. He felt nervous, but confident and wanted to convince her, wanted to prove his abilities because he knew he could help her. She could find no trace of deceit or malice, no hint he did her uncle’s bidding.
Once she centered herself, she sank deeper into him, experiencing bright, swift flashes of memory as his mind responded to her prodding. She began digging, sifting through the things that made him who he was, thoughts and recollections. Memories did not sort themselves away in any organized manner, and she was not skilled or gentle. Ruthlessly, she hunted for anything to show he lied. Glimpses of training as a boy, then of a dying man passed before her. His mind reveal scenes of him begging, near starvation, which she felt with sharp intensity. She saw images of sneaking through a manor courtyard, opening a window and slipping inside, and then another memory of him in bed with a young woman flashed in her mind.
He whimpered and Leisha realized it had gone too far. She withdrew from his mind and saw the man collapsed on the floor, his breathing labored as he clutched at his head. Part of her wanted to apologize, but he had been warned. Nothing she saw pointed to any treachery on his part, which made this bizarre event even more confusing. People did not usually present themselves for jobs by sneaking in someone’s rooms.
As the pounding in his head retreated, Zaraki climbed to his knees and tried to reach his feet. His legs were not ready to support him and he toppled to one side, clutching at the wall.
In a quiet voice, Leisha said, “Be still. I believe you.”
It took him several minutes to recover while he crouched on the floor, his head cradled in his hands. “It didn’t hurt so much, as it felt like my head wanted to rupture, my queen. A truly unpleasant experience,” he said when he could speak again.
She grimaced, but still offered no apologies. “There’s water behind the door there if you need it.”
Water did sound good, so Zaraki staggered to his feet. Knees shaking, he walked over to the pitcher and leaned on the little table with both hands. He wanted to fall face forward and give into the urge to faint. But with his credibility as a great spy on the line, he resisted.
Clasping her hands in front of her, Leisha watched the strange man weave around on unsteady legs. He gulped down water and when he finally turned around, she inclined her head toward the chairs placed in the corner of the chamber. “Let’s sit down and talk, master spy.”
Grateful and a bit surprised, Zaraki made his way over and fell into the chair. This close, he saw how young the new queen truly was, with dark hair hanging in waves down her back and over her shoulders. He tried to collect his thoughts. “Are the defenders here your father’s men?”
“Yes, of course,” Leisha said with certainty. Then, she stopped and considered. “I believe they are. But I suppose I have no way of knowing.”
“I would bet most are loyal to your uncle, Your Highness. If pressed, I suspect most would admit to starting here either right after your father’s death or perhaps right before. I didn’t go to your castellan because if they’re not loyal to you, I doubt they’d be friendly to me.”
The castellan? Remembering Aniol when she threatened to relieve him of his post made her heart beat a bit faster. If Aniol’s loyalty fell with her uncle and he believed he held power in the castle, it put his thought in a more ominous light.
“If they want to kill me, why not do it now?” she asked, not sure any of this made sense.
Zaraki shrugged. “Why should your uncle act quickly? If these men are all loyal to him, he controls your castle and controls you.” He said this without apology or worry about how she might react, knowing she needed to understand the situation. “The guards are here to keep you in. If your uncle can manipulate or bully you, then he gains the power he wants without any real effort. He can spring his trap whenever he needs to.”
Leisha felt a shock race up her spine and she swallowed, nervous as the full impact of Zaraki’s words hit her. Staval controls the castle. No wonder he left without a fight. The illusion of her freedom shattered as she realized she lived as Staval’s pet – a bird in a lovely, large cage. He had left the doors open but, if he wanted, he could snap them shut and trap her here.
Now she nodded, seeing the truth and thinking hard about who she could trust. Perhaps only Symon? Zaraki’s memories did show a lackluster guard force, and it meant few people here acted on her behalf. Why, she wondered, did she just walk into Branik? Why did she ever imagine only men loyal to her father would be in the castle? Or that the people here would be loyal to her at all?
All the books she had read on theories of monarchy and political tactics did nothing to prepare her for someone trying to knife her in the hallway. She remembered Symon’s words. A pack of dogs, indeed. Was she truly this ignorant of her people, but also of people in general? Worse, Symon had tried to warn her, but she refused to listen. This near-fatal misstep shook her confidence to the core.
“Why come to me?” she asked, her voice sounding small. “If what you say is true then I’m nothing more than a silly, naive girl in trouble.”
Zaraki grinned at her. “Not at all, Your Grace. Everyone trades on information. You’re at a disadvantage because you don’t have anyone to bring it to you. You need someone you can trust and I want a challenge. I’m good and I don’t want to start at the bottom, playing courier for a lordling with a stable full of less talented men. I can prove my value to you now. And I like winning,” he admitted after a pause.
“You aim high,” she said. “All right, how do I get myself out of this trap? In my position, what would you do first?”
Without hesitating, Zaraki laid out a plan. “First, do you have anyone here you can trust, who is familiar with running the castle? Make him castellan and put him in charge of selecting a new guard captain. Within a week, we need to purge all of the lieutenants underneath him. We need to do it carefully. Most of the guards are likely not involved, just lazy.”
He paused and then another thought occurred to him. “Also, unless you hired them, any women assigned to you must be dismissed. Tomorrow if possible. They have access to you and your rooms. Once your uncle realizes what you’re doing and that he’s losing control of y
ou, he’ll retaliate. We have to identify new bodyguards for you, but for now, I’ll pull double duty and sleep here.”
Leisha sat back in her chair, steepling her fingers, weighing his words and her options. Securing her own safety had become a more pressing issue than taxes on wine and who received toll revenues. Her hands shook and she felt unprepared, having walked into Staval’s trap. Though a stranger, this man appeared sincere and put himself at great risk to get a message to her. For the challenge? The reward? She felt like a child in over her head and knew she needed allies.
She decided to trust him, for now. “How much for your services?”
Zaraki blinked in surprise and realized he had not prepared for the question. “Fifty tira a year,” he blurted out, knowing he should have asked for more.
She considered for a moment. “I’ll double it, as well as providing for your weapons, wardrobe, and horses. You’ll have rooms and will take your meals here, of course. But it means your job is to keep me alive now, not just to spy for me. Are you interested?”
A broad, triumphant smile lit on his face before he remembered himself. “Yes, of course, I am. Do you have anyone in mind for castellan, Your Highness?”
“My father’s butler, Symon. He’s been here for years and he was always very kind to me before I was sent to live in Embriel.”
Feeling brazen, Zaraki asked, “You remember him from when you were two?”
“Master spy, where do you get your information from?” Leisha laughed, thinking she liked this bold stranger already.
“Drunks in Arnost, mostly,” he admitted.
Their first disagreement concerned sleeping arrangements. Leisha wanted to lock herself in the bedrooms, but Zaraki argued they were not secure and with the doors locked, he could not reach her.
“Isn’t that the idea? You’re a stranger to me.”
“Of everyone here, I think I’m the one you can trust the most. You’ve seen into my soul.” He understood her concern, a sixteen-year-old girl sleeping near a man she did not know. But he worried what would happen if someone did try to reach her behind the locked door.
“I’ve made my choice. Sleep here on a bench outside my bedrooms and I’ll bring you blankets for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll make better arrangements.”
After depositing a few blankets and pillows on his bench, Leisha shut the door and leaned against it. Just yesterday, she told herself she wanted people who would disagree with her. Now a strange man, a foreign spy of all things, had appeared in her rooms, convinced her to trust him and then begun arguing with her. She hoped she would not regret this decision because it seemed ludicrous.
Zaraki lay on the short bench, considering the turn his life had just taken. A hundred tira a year—it was more than he had any right to earn. His mind raced with the implications. That much money meant security and even savings. Moreover, he liked this aloof, reserved girl.
A few minutes after Leisha disappeared behind her door, he heard the tumblers in the lock turning again and the door open. When she did not emerge, he got up and pushing the door open, saw only a short, empty hallway with a carved door at the end. A few less ornate doors led off to each side. Opening the first door, he found an actual bed and lay down there, sleeping lightly all night with the door open.
***
The sun had barely risen above the horizon when Symon received the summons to attend the queen. An early morning request did not bode well. He paused as he stepped inside Leisha’s receiving room. Seated at her desk, with her hands folded in front of her, she looked like her mother when Shola had some plan or scheme in mind. Across from Leisha sat a stranger, a boy no more than twenty, with handsome features and a dangerous air. Symon recovered and bowed. “Your Majesty, you asked to see me?”
“Please sit,” Leisha said and indicated the other chair in front of her desk. “You served my father for a long time and now I need to know if you’re willing to serve me in a different capacity?”
“Of course, my lady.” He thought she looked very tired this morning and wondered what happened last night. Where had this boy come from?
“This is Zaraki, Symon. He believes the men here aren’t loyal to me. He feels Staval controls the castle and my life is in danger. What do you think?”
Symon considered as her words sent his mind racing. So focused had he been on his friend’s death, the funeral and retrieving Leisha from Embriel, he never stopped to consider what it meant to have Staval in charge of the castle. “My lady, I was gone from the castle for several months dealing with everything. During that time, your uncle did make changes. There are some new men in positions previously held by men I knew. He also has keys to doors and gates. But he was within his rights to do so as your regent.”
“He never should have been my regent,” Leisha snapped. “Either way, I need to reclaim what is mine and secure my safety. I need a new castellan to help me do that. Aniol will be dismissed as soon as we’re done here. Symon, I’d like you take his position.”
“Me?” he stammered. “Lady, I’ve never been anything more than a butler.”
“I think you know how to run my castle, though, and you know men who were loyal to my father.”
His mouth hung open for a moment as he considered. “Yes,” he said then, sounding sure of himself. “Your Grace, I’ve never aspired to more, but yes, I do know men and I do know the castle. I’ll do my best.”
The young man, Zaraki, laid out what he had observed roaming about the castle. He snuck into her rooms last night? And now she wanted to hire him? Symon thought he would never understand anyone in this family.
“Do you know anyone who could serve as guard captain?” Zaraki asked. “Your current one is Staval’s man.”
Symon thought the boy rather well-spoken and his accent hinted he came from Streza or Meszdra. “Yes, I think I do. Andelko is young, but the late king liked him quite a bit. He’s been a captain in the King’s Horse—the Queen’s Horse now—for a couple of years. I’d suggest elevating him to the position. He’s with the company at Moraval and can be back here in two or three days.”
“And the queen’s maids?” Zaraki asked.
“Ah, Queen Shola had a great deal of women in and out of her service,” Symon said. He struggled to find a way to explain that upon her death, all of Shola’s servants fled the castle, smiling and full of glee, pockets bursting with treasures.
“Because she was as awful to them as she was to me?” Leisha’s question came out with more bitterness than she intended.
Still surprised she remembered her mother at all, Symon tried to be diplomatic. “Your mother made life difficult for some of her servants. Any women here now were hired by Staval. Dismiss them. If what our new friend says is true, they can’t be trusted. We should act quickly.”
“Very good. Find me enough women to replace them, then. I don’t want them poisoning my breakfast. Also, Zaraki will need apartments. Find something large and suitable for my new spymaster. And send Aniol here immediately.” Symon rose and bowed, already making a list in his head of things to do.
Acting
Aniol appeared in her doorway looking annoyed, again. “You asked to see me, Your Highness?” he grunted, the veneer of respect he trotted out wearing thin.
“Yes. I’m afraid I’ve decided to hire a new castellan. You’ll be paid through today, of course,” she said, reading his thoughts and waiting for him to react.
The man did not disappoint, and Leisha stiffened as his hand dropped to the knife at his belt. Even as an unconscious action, it told her all she needed to know. Zaraki was right. Staval had a plan for her, and this was one of the men charged with seeing it through. With her uncle giving orders here, Aniol felt invincible.
Before his hand could stray further, he lurched forward, landing face down on the floor. Zaraki put a knee on the man’s back and yanked Aniol’s head to one side. When he pressed a light blade against the castellan’s throat, the smaller man stopped struggling and began whimpering into
the rug underneath him.
“Her Majesty was very clear, I thought. I hope this is equally as clear,” Zaraki said in a low voice into the other man’s ear.
“He’s planning on going straight to Cyril.” Leisha saw the intention flash through Aniol’s mind. At the first hint she was trying to seize control of the castle, Cyril would spring the trap and turn the guards against her. She would die before reigning more than a month.
Zaraki made a face, still holding Aniol’s head back. Fool, he thought. He could have walked out alive. “If you’ll excuse me a moment, Your Highness?” Kill to save yourself. Kill to save your employer. How many times had he repeated it? While he did not enjoy killing, he would do it, but he would not murder a man in front of a sixteen-year-old girl.
Pale and shaking now, Leisha stood to walk out of her apartments, knowing what Zaraki intended. Aniol would die on her order. Her hand touched the handle on the door leading to her bedrooms and then she stopped. “No,” she said, turning back. “I won’t flinch away from what needs to be done. Kill him,” Aniol began begging for his life. She would spare him if there were any place in the castle to hold him, but Cyril held keys to every room and cell. They had no way to keep him isolated and away from her enemies.
Zaraki hesitated, conflicted, but he has been given an order and his training took over. He plunged the knife into the side of Aniol’s neck and as he drew it across, blood blossomed, soaking into the rug. Standing up, he whipped off the light coat he wore and covered the dying man’s head.
Shaken, he looked at her and then away. Unlike Fellnin, he never got used to killing, never found it easy. He knew he would need an evening to put this incident to rest, and he hated Leisha had seen it. Queen or not, she was still a child.
All the color had vanished from her face when she moved to look him in the eyes. His distress pulsed in her mind and she felt guilty for forcing the act on him. “He was going to tell Cyril to kill me,” Leisha said in a quiet voice. “I saw it in his thoughts. You saved me. And I couldn’t order you to do something I wasn’t willing to watch.”
A Gift Freely Given (The Tahaerin Chronicles Book 1) Page 11
