Now, that was better. No true plan, but a plan for making a plan, and that was something. Lorain pulled on her undershift, then slipped her tunic on over it. She clipped her hair up on top of her head, the brown locks she normally left loose restricted. She would make sure nobody in that Council chamber forgot who the aggrieved one in the room was.
CHAPTER TWO
Never Say never
Ariannas sat patiently at her desk as a servant cleaned up the consequences of her impromptu braid hacking the night before. She wore a grey tunic she’d found this morning laid out for her in the room the servants had scurried her into last night. It seemed the Empir’s “official” bedchamber remained a crime scene. She sighed deeply at that one. Since vestiges from her past rose up to haunt her far less often these days, that very American term had surprised her. Her lack of breasts no longer hindered movement. Her pouch and furry belly no longer surprised her. She thought that she’d returned to Garla fully. But “crime scene”? Really?
She looked up when the door from the hall opened, and Nalin, looking as tired as she felt, stepped into the room.
“My Liege,” he said with a nod, and she gestured him forward.
Nalin sat down in the center chair in front of the desk and waited as the servant finished up.
“All right then,” Ariannas said, dismissing the servant with a flurry of fingers.
Once they were alone, Nalin stood up and started around the desk. “I have something to show you.”
“What?” she asked as she turned to watch him fiddle with the hidden latch on a door to one of the cabinets set into the wall behind her. This place must hold a million secrets.
“This,” Nalin replied as he accessed the secret panel to the back of the cabinet. It opened, and he smiled. “Good. Everything’s here. It looks like Ariel never found this.”
“What?” Ariannas stood up behind him and looked over his shoulder. She watched him pull out several scrolls and turned to see as he set them down on the desk.
“What are they?” she asked.
“Your mother’s musings on what lies in front of you.”
“A lot more than she could ever imagine,” she commented and started to shuffle through the ribbon-tied treasures.
“Wait. Wait,” Nalin cautioned. “There’s one in particular. Where’s the one with the black ribbon?” Nalin spread them out. “Yes. This is the one.” He lifted up the only black-ribboned scroll.
“What about it?”
“She said you must read this one first.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. She never told me.”
Ariannas picked up the scroll, considered it, then set it down again. “Later. Right now you have to tell me what to expect in there.” She nodded towards the door to the Council chamber.
So, as Nalin returned the scrolls to their secret hiding place and then leaned up against her desk, the two of them discussed what he expected would happen during this opening meeting. A long list of dos and don’ts confronted her.
“Oh, and don’t sit on the throne,” Nalin added as they finished up. “It will be moved later today or tomorrow to the grand hall for your throning, and until then, another chair has been set up for you.”
“All right,” she replied with a nod.
“Now, it’s time to get started, and I have to go prepare.” He straightened up. “Do you have any questions?”
“Who all is out there?”
She watched as Nalin’s thoughts shifted. “What? Oh, you mean who’s on the Council.”
She nodded. “Yes. I know all the holders are, but I saw far more than that at the dinner last night. And don’t tell me they were all spouses and family.”
“No.” Nalin leaned back on the desk again. “I’ll make this brief now and fill you in later. Each holding, except for the Empir’s, is allowed two councilors in addition to its holder.”
“Appointed by? The councilors, I mean.”
“The holder. They’re mostly lesser nobles, relatives of relatives and such.”
“And Prea and Forn?”
“Your two holdings get three councilors each, appointed by you. Well, for now, your councilors were appointed by your brother. I’d leave that alone until the end of the session.”
“Yes.” She nodded. “So, shall we get on with it?”
He smiled and headed out to the hall, and she stood up to wait for her summons at the door that led to the Council chamber. All of Nalin’s instructions and explanations blathered around in her head. He’d even mentioned a reception tomorrow afternoon, a meet-and-greet, as the Holts might have called it. All informal of course, though nothing in this world was informal to her.
Through the door she could hear muffled voices. It seemed odd that the ruler of Garla had no access to hear what the Council said outside her presence. She looked up at the wall, searching for a peep hole or listening tube or some such, but she found nothing. Perhaps she’d ask Nalin later. He seemed to know a great many secrets about the Keep.
She jumped at the sound of soft tapping on the door. Her heart accelerated, and her lungs demanded more air. As she consciously slowed her breathing, the door opened, revealing the guard motioning to her to step through to meet her Council for the first time.
She hadn’t prepared for this. She’d written a little speech and all, but inside she had no idea what she was doing. She’d prepared for Ariel. She’d spent days working on her plan for him, and the only part that had come spontaneously was the shedding of her braids in a symbolic gesture, the symbolism of which she hadn’t quite grasped yet. This here, though, this entrance into the Council chamber to meet those who would govern with her—she’d never gotten this far in her plan. Even as she’d tried to relax in the bath last night, taking charge had remained an abstract, even foreign concept.
“My Liege?” the guard whispered, and only then did she realize she’d hesitated. She stood transfixed, unable to step over the threshold. All those people, dependent on her. And who was she? Just a kid from the Valley.
You’re being ridiculous, she told herself and boldly placed one foot into the chamber, then the other. She stopped as the shuffling sounds of the assembly rising as one echoed through the room. For a brief second she stood there, frozen in the realization of power and the scent of distrust. And then, she forced her feet to break through the icy fear they had momentarily slipped into and continued on to the chair where Elsba stood to welcome her.
Reaching the holder, she paused for a moment to study the room itself, to establish her bearings. She stood on a dais at the front. Before her, broad steps rose to the back with benches for the attendees set at each level—center and right and left sections, two aisles dividing them. At the back of the room, an enclosed space with wooden railings and enough space for perhaps a dozen hovered over them all, the steps leading down into the chamber beginning there. She assumed that the outer entrance lay somewhere beyond her view as she could see no door into the room other than hers. No tapestries, no decorations—only columns with finials built into the stone walls. If, indeed, Flandari had participated in the design of the Keep, she must have intended this room to offer no distractions.
“My lords,” Elsba said, smiling at Ariannas. “I present Empir Ariannas Ilazer.”
There was applause from some, nothing but silence from others. Ariannas smiled as though her support were unanimous. What else could she do? They continued to clap to the point where she grew uncomfortable, yet they still went on.
Finally Elsba whispered into her ear, “Sit down.”
She took her seat in the chair, the applause subsided and everyone settled back down on the benches. Elsba leaned down with a hand on her shoulder. “Nalin tells me you wrote a speech,” the holder whispered.
Did she dare reopen wounds but a few hours old? Yes, Ariannas decided and smiled up at the holder. “Yes. Yes, I did. A short one.”
Elsba patted her twice on the shoulder, then looked up again to those in the chamber.
“Empir Ariannas came to us in the guise of a hermit. Arrested and drugged by her brother in a failed attempt to silence her permanently, she escaped and confronted him last night in his bedchamber where the coward took his own life rather than face an accusation of attempted murder.” The older man turned to Ariannas. “My Liege,” he continued, “I should inform you that we have agreed to form a committee to validate your identity in advance of your throning.”
Ariannas nodded—Nalin had warned her to expect this—and Elsba turned back to the Council. “I know many of you have questions, and our Empir will answer them. But please,” Elsba implored, holding a hand up, “not this morning. This morning she will speak to you from her heart. My Liege?”
Ariannas stood, intending to step to the lectern, but as she turned, gazing down at her feet briefly, she heard that shuffling sound of everyone rising again. She whipped her head back to look at Elsba who mouthed, “Tell them to sit.”
With a nod, Ariannas took the last couple of steps to the lectern. She smiled to the assembly, feigning confidence, and then spoke. “Please. Sit.” She waited as they did so; then she began.
“Thank you,” she said and placed her notes on the lectern. She smiled and saw that some of these strangers smiled with her, including Nalin who sat directly before her in the front row. “Thank you. I was raised in Solsta Haven. I was told I was an orphan, left there by someone who couldn’t take care of me. But then, as she lay dying, Empir Flandari herself told me the truth. I am her daughter and her Heir.
“The Empir’s plan was simple. Bring me back to Avaret and tell my brother the truth. Unfortunately, the assassination of my mother instigated at Ariel’s behest complicated everything. He knew a necropath from Solsta knew the truth, but he never knew that necropath was me, his sister. I went into hiding to stay alive long enough so I could prepare to confront him.” She shrugged. “I think you’ll understand when I tell you that my life in the haven hadn’t groomed me for this life you all embrace so easily.
“That’s it. That’s my story. I’ll be happy to answer to your committee. I will also deal with any lingering questions you may have individually at the reception tomorrow where I look forward to meeting each of you. Thank you. Again.”
Before she could return to her chair, a lone figure stood up in the back. Ariannas recognized her. She was the woman they’d found in the bedchamber with her brother.
“No!” the holder shouted, and Ariannas stopped and turned to look at her. Brown hair pulled back from her face, grey tunic showing off the slight bulge of her pouch. She’d worked hard to establish the facade of the grieving spouse.
“Holder Zanlot? Is that correct?” Ariannas asked, granting the woman her full attention.
“I saw his body,” Zanlot declared, directing her comments more to the Council than to Ariannas. “I saw his poor, bloodied body. You claim he killed himself, but how did he stab himself in the chest and then pull the knife out? How?”
Ariannas felt herself falling down Alice’s rabbit hole. She had no answer for this.
“My Liege, if I may.” It was the voice of the commander from the back of the room, and as she strode up to the front and stood in front of the dais, Ariannas thanked the commander silently for rescuing her. “My lord,” she continued directly to Zanlot, “you and I both saw the same thing, and yet we each saw it differently. In defense of the Empir, my experience led me to conclude that given the angle of entry, the death blow was self-inflicted.”
“How could you tell the angle of entry?” Holder Zanlot demanded. “The knife was gone.”
“I found it after you left, my lord. It was on the floor beside the bed. I have yet to question our Empir, but it would be my preliminary guess that she withdrew the knife then dropped it on the floor. If that is the case, then that is what my report will show.”
“He was suffering,” Ariannas added in a soft voice, grateful to be able to tell the truth. “His wound wasn’t survivable, and yet he remained conscious and aware. I saw the fear in his eyes. I couldn’t…” She took a deep breath. “I couldn’t allow him to hurt anymore.”
Holder Zanlot glared at the commander, then back to Ariannas. The room remained quiet, only the sound of breathing and the occasional cough intruding, until finally the holder broke the spell. “I was a witness, before and after. I demand my testimony be included in the investigation.”
“It will be, my lord,” Ariannas replied, and she saw the commander nod in agreement.
And, her emotional discharge spent, Lorain Zanlot finally sat down.
“All of you,” Ariannas continued more robustly, encompassing the room with a glance, “take no one at their word under these grave circumstances. The reception tomorrow afternoon is for you to come and talk to me one by one. I promise to stay for however long it takes to speak with everyone who asks to meet with me. Bring me your questions, your concerns, your needs. In the meantime, form your committee and let them begin working today. I will be here and available to testify to anything that I know.
“Now, thank you for your time. I’ll leave you to the work you must do now without me.”
Ariannas turned and heard the Council rise behind her as she headed to her office door. Before the guard there opened the door for her, she noted Elsba speaking of a revised schedule, but she heard nothing else after stepping into the office, her shoulders sagging as the door closed tight behind her. She dropped to a chair at the conference table and sat there, breathing hard, feeling her heart race against her chest.
Oh, God, that was awful, she thought. Zanlot confronted me, and I couldn’t even answer her. Her chest ached, and she still had trouble getting enough air.
No. She sat up straight in the chair and forced herself to breathe deep. Here’s how it was. Ariel was a cruel liar, and he’d murdered their mother. He’d tried to kill her, but he’d failed. He was the one who couldn’t handle the truth.
Ariannas Ilazer, Empir of Garla, stood up and walked to her desk, a veil of calm settling over her. She sat down and stared at the chaos that was her desk. First, she must get all this stuff organized. She’d always been good at that sort of thing, hadn’t she? If anything seemed absolutely immediate, she’d deal with it. Then she’d tackle her mother’s black-ribboned scroll. Prioritize, she told herself. I can do this if I just prioritize.
He’d ridden for nearly twenty-four hours straight, the taste of Avaret and the carnage he’d witnessed there bitter in his heart. He’d harbored no expectations that the child he’d pouched would raise his status beyond captain of the Guard, but he had expected that once the boy Empir was dealt with, he could offer his new Empir the promise of an Heir. Not to be.
He lay under the stars, the eastern sky hinting at morning. After all that riding and the poor baby jostling at the teat, he’d hoped sleep would overcome him. Instead, he’d lain awake all night, his mind worrying over truth and trust, lies and betrayal.
He’d never tell her. He couldn’t. He couldn’t allow what he’d watched happen to the fresh young woman he’d met at Solsta turn his child into a monster, too.
No, that wasn’t fair. Empir Ariannas was not a monster. She’d made a difficult, ugly and misguided decision. She’d consulted no one, neither himself nor the holder. And the reason she consulted no one, he reminded himself, was because she knew we’d try to talk her out of it.
But had it been such a bad decision? She’d had her reasons which she’d explained to him. She’d chosen to survive; it was either that or surrender to her brother’s tyranny. And yet….
And yet….
He shivered. He’d seen dead bodies and killing before, but what he’d seen when he’d stepped into the Empir’s bedchamber had left him unwilling to ever speak with the perpetrator again. A flood of blood from a wound that Commander Tanres had examined and deemed self-inflicted, so much blood that Korin had grown nauseously ill at the sight of it. Add to that the hermit braids the new Empir had left behind there, her hermit ring set atop them—clearly she’d aba
ndoned the best of her hermit training in that room. All the hermit ethics she’d espoused on that parapet rising high over Solsta Haven had fallen like so many leaves in autumn, drying up and withering away, to be brushed aside and then discarded.
He touched his pouch, no hint of bulge there yet, but it would come. I will never allow that to be your destiny. I will never let the pull of power wear you down. I will never allow the Empir to claim you as her own.
He sat up as the sun peeked over the horizon. No point in grinding down this stone within his gut any further at the moment. He hadn’t slept and couldn’t now that daylight was upon him. He rose, saddled his horse, mounted and rode towards the rising sun. Soon he would be home where he would be Korin of Thristas once again.
CHAPTER THREE
settling in
The committee determining the legitimacy of Ariannas Ilazer’s claim to the Ilazer heritage had questioned her the next morning. They asked question after question after question, most of which she couldn’t answer. She’d tried to explain how she’d known nothing of Flandari or their relationship before the night the woman had died and passed through famar under her daughter’s guidance, but for some reason, they didn’t understand her. They wanted answers, and she had few to give. So she’d referred them on to Nalin; he’d known all about her long before she’d learned about herself. Then they nodded, and she realized that it hadn’t been the truth they were seeking but some indication of her worth.
When they’d finally freed her to go, she’d ended up in the Keep’s kitchen where her presence had flustered all the servants preparing for the reception. She’d asked for fruit and cheese and had left with a pear, a small chunk of something resembling what she’d known as cheese on Earth and some sort of roll one of the cooks had forced on her, mumbling that a pear and cheese couldn’t possibly be enough. She decided then and there that she liked the servants better than the nobles.
Blooded (Lisen of Solsta Book 3) Page 2
