Blooded (Lisen of Solsta Book 3)

by D. Hart St. Martin

  “I wish she’d said something that would have allowed us to believe her. It’s not right, arresting a holder for treason.”

  “It’s even less right for a holder to commit treason,” Bala reminded him.

  “Yes. And that was the point of all this, wasn’t it.”

  Bala nodded, stood up, stepped over to him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You handled this well, Nal.”

  He patted her hand and then pulled it up to his lips to kiss it. “Thank you. That helps. That helps a lot. And now to prepare for the trial.”

  The day dawned crackling with fall, and Lisen swore she could smell the leaves turning color in the forest as she awoke. For the first time in days, she hadn’t dreamed last night—not of Korin, nor of Nalin—and this left her feeling empty inside. She lay on the ground, her head hidden under her blanket, and considered her options for the day. There were, of course, none.

  “My Liege?”

  After several mornings waking up on the road, Sergeant Kopol’s soft voice had become Lisen’s customary call to consciousness, and she grunted to let the guard know she was awake and would be ready to ride shortly. And, as had also become part of this ritual, Lisen heard the sergeant move away to give her Empir a few moments to greet the day first before greeting people.

  Lisen stretched, delaying pulling off the blanket because that would mark the end of another night, but at last she sat up and blinked at the light.

  Light?

  Hoping no one could see her, she passed one hand in front of her eyes. Light, then shadow, then light again. She wanted to whoop to the sky, shout out that Korin’s promise had come true, but she kept her silence. For now, until she was sure, she’d let the guards continue to treat her as blind. With only light and shadow, she was basically still blind anyway.

  She felt her way on her knees, found a bush and settled in behind it to do what she always had to do first thing in the morning. When she finished, she stood up, tied her leggings back in place and shouted out for assistance to help her join the others for breakfast.

  A simple repast—one of the apples the guards had picked yesterday from a grove just off the road and that old staple, dried and unidentifiable meat. As they all ate, Lisen enjoyed watching the shadows that sat with her. The simplest of their movements left her wondering what they were doing, but she reveled in knowing they were moving and that she could actually see them doing it.

  They set out after the guards had saddled the horses and reloaded their gear. Lisen celebrated the wind in her hair and the anticipation in her soul as Pharaoh cantered behind the others. One more night. Kopol had promised only one more night and part of the next day and then they’d reach home. Couldn’t be soon enough for her.

  They rode on for an hour or two, varying their gait from canter to trot to walk and back to canter again to keep the horses fresh. Then, abruptly, the shadows in front of her pulled to a halt.

  “Hold up, my Liege,” Sergeant Kopol shouted, and Lisen reined Pharaoh in.

  “What is it?”

  “A hermit by the robes. We always pull off to let hermits pass.”

  Lisen allowed Kopol to grab hold of one of Pharaoh’s reins near the bridle’s bit, and the sergeant pulled Pharaoh off the road. As they waited, Lisen made out a figure on a horse moving towards them.

  “Good day, my lords.” Lisen heard a woman’s voice.

  “Good day, hermit,” one of the male guards replied. “Where are you headed on this fine fall day?”

  The hermit pulled her horse to a halt in front of them.

  “Erinina. Thought I’d take the overland route and enjoy the scenery.”

  “And where have you come from?” Lisen asked.

  “Avaret. A very busy place, I must say, with the arrest and all.”

  “Arrest?” The hermit hadn’t recognized her yet, and Lisen didn’t expect her to.

  “Oh, you haven’t heard? Holder Zanlot. It’s all the people of Avaret can talk about. The mother of the baby Empir and they’ve gone and arrested her for treason.”

  “Who…who’s arrested her?” Lisen asked.

  “Why, the dead Empir’s Will, of course.”

  “Holder Corday?”

  “Aye, that’s the one. Story is the holder—Holder Zanlot, I mean—helped the ones who abducted Empir Ariannas. Poor girl. Hardly any time at all on the throne and now she’s gone.”

  “They can’t be sure about that,” Kopol commented.

  “She’s been gone nigh on a month-and-a-half now. Doesn’t bode well for her still bein’ alive, I say.”

  “So Holder Corday is all right?” Lisen’s greatest fear all along had been that Nalin had died during the kidnapping. If her friend and confidant were well, then everything was well.

  “I suppose. If he’s arresting other holders, he must be all right enough.”

  “Well, thank you for the information, hermit.” It was the same male guard who had spoken before. “May your journey continue in safety. For us, we have to make Avaret by tomorrow.”

  “Don’t want to miss all the excitement, I suppose.”

  And Lisen watched as the hermit rode past them, her eyes growing better with each new moment.

  They set back out on the road, and Lisen contemplated all the good news—her sight returning and, even better, Nalin alive and well. She smiled to herself and wished they could get there today. A car could do that, but she didn’t have one. Nobody here did. So she’d have to settle for what she did have—magnificent Pharaoh and a dirt road through a forest. Tomorrow would have to be soon enough.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Garlan justice

  Awaiting the beginning of this first meeting of the new Council session, an uncomfortable Nalin sat in a chair on the dais at the front of the Council Chamber. His right leg dangled, but putting his leg up on another chair seemed too casual in this setting. His notes for his welcome and opening statement in his hand, he waited as all the Council members arrived and took their seats. He watched as many of those who had not yet seen him since the abduction reacted to his stump with widened eyes and silent gasps. He’d grown accustomed to such reactions, and they, in turn, would grow accustomed to his missing foot, eventually.

  He saw Bala step in at the top of the stairs to the chamber opposite him and knew that every representative present in Avaret had arrived. He cleared his throat, and the room sifted slowly into silence.

  “My lords, thank you for planning your arrivals so you could assemble a day early,” he began. “As I stated in my letter, we will be setting aside the formality of the Opening Dinner tonight and moving directly to the pressing business of Holder Zanlot’s treason today.” He paused as a few murmurs and boos filled the air. Let them complain. Let them rage, for Creators’ sake. As legally bound, he’d made his decision, and it was going to stand.

  “As I put forth in my letter, we do not know if Empir Ariannas is alive or has already been murdered by her abductors. We will take up discussion of this matter later and will, for now, consider her still alive. Therefore, I, as the Empir’s Will, have taken her place in these proceedings. Now, to today’s business. Bring in the accused.”

  He waited as the guards brought Lorain in, wrists shackled but wearing one of the best tunics she owned, her shining hair cascading long past her shoulders. From the back of the chamber the guards walked their prisoner down to the front, Lorain holding her head high. The fact that Nalin had already determined her fate and that Lorain knew what he’d decided without being told didn’t appear to matter to her at the moment. She took her place proudly and stood opposite him at the other end of the table on the dais.

  “According to our law,” Nalin said, turning to Lorain, “I, as the representative of the Empir, have reviewed all the testimony and evidence assembled by the Emperi Guard and the Empir’s privy council against you. That documentation lies on the table beside me, but here are the salient points.

  “First, Empir Ariannas was abducted during a ride
she and I took together in the park on the ninth day of September, the first year of Ariannas.” Nalin had memorized the entire account. “Since then, we have found no sign nor any hint of what happened to her once she and her captors left the park.

  “Second, the two guards who had accompanied the Empir and myself had halted at some distance from us because, I believe, they saw we had paused to talk. The attack itself was a bold one, and it left both guards dead.

  “Third, when the investigation began into what those in the area knew about the attack and the events leading up to it, a pattern emerged. Holder Zanlot’s nurser, the guard at the Old Palace door and the hand grooming the Empir’s horse just before we left on the ride provided stories that put the holder’s actions in question. On further investigation, it became clear that Holder Zanlot had much to explain.

  “To wit, she welcomed a visitor to her quarters, a visitor unknown to her nurser. The nurser overheard parts of the conversation from the bedchamber. His statement clearly places Holder Zanlot in the role of co-conspirator with this visitor who, according to the nurser, specifically mentioned the Empir’s coming ride in the park. Holder Zanlot was then seen by the Old Palace guard heading out of the palace and directly to the stable shortly before the attack. While in the stable, she was seen by the stable hand talking with the guards assigned as security for the Empir’s ride that day.”

  As he spoke, Nalin marveled at Lorain’s calm demeanor. She knew he was about to label her officially a traitor, and yet she showed nothing—no fear, no shame and certainly no remorse.

  “In addition, in one of her early visits to me after the attack while I was recuperating, she asked, and I quote, ‘Do you really think those filthy Thristans will let her live?’ At the time, only myself, Commander Tanres and the members of the search parties knew we suspected the Thristans. With the search parties miles away and the commander and I pointedly not revealing what we thought, a question emerges—how did she find out what we believed to be true? And, for those who may wonder if I remembered what she asked correctly, yes, I was on large doses of cilla nectar. However, Commander Tanres has testified under oath that I remembered everything she and I discussed over the many days I was ill, leading to the conclusion that my memory remained intact.”

  He paused. He wanted to stand and force his arguments home. Sitting felt powerless to him. On the other hand, he was about to commit one of the most powerful acts he would ever have the right to commit. If they thought him weak for sitting, let them look at his leg. This woman standing at the other end of the table had done this to him along with everything else that she’d done. He banged the largest piece remaining of his pink crystal on one of the piles of paper on the table.

  “After a thorough review of the evidence, guided by the laws of Garla and in the name of Empir Ariannas, I pronounce Holder Lorain Zanlot of Bedel guilty of treason against the throne and sentence her to death.” He swiveled on his chair to allow him to look at Lorain more comfortably. “At noon tomorrow, you shall be taken from the Keep to the plaza, and there, with the people of Avaret as witnesses, you shall be beheaded.”

  Lorain said nothing, did nothing. Did she have another plan? She always had a plan. Her mind couldn’t survive without planning. He made a mental note to confer with the commander right after this meeting to discuss the necessity of assigning only the most honorable members of the Guard to watch her.

  “In addition, as Empir Ariannas’ only living Heir, her son shall be transferred to the Keep for his security. Take her away.”

  The guards grabbed Lorain roughly and rushed her up the stairs and out of the room. Nalin took a deep breath as the Council members began feverishly discussing the merits of his actions. He didn’t care. Lorain had been nothing but trouble from the moment Ariel had ascended the throne, and he knew beyond doubt that she’d participated in this horrible event that had likely left his Empir dead and himself a cripple.

  Captain Palla approached him, and Nalin stood on his one good leg and allowed Palla to help him out of the chamber and into the office. There would be protests. Let them protest. Someone was likely to appeal. Let them appeal. Tomorrow at noon Lorain would die, and then they could move on to deciding whether or not it was time to declare Ariannas dead as well.

  Later that day, after a brief rest on the couch in the office, Nalin sat at the conference table working his way through various requests from Council members. Some had immediate merit; others could wait. He had neither the stomach nor the energy to face everything this session.

  “My lord?”

  He looked up at the guard who had spoken and the woman standing next to him, her wrists shackled, her mane of dark hair shorn to within inches of her head in preparation for the blade. He had sent for her, and now he would deal with her.

  “You may go,” he ordered the guard.

  “My lord?”

  “She might strangle me with her manacles, and I certainly can’t run away. But we’ll be all right.”

  The guard nodded and reluctantly backed out of the room.

  “Sit,” Nalin said, gesturing to the chair next to where she stood.

  “What do you want, Nalin? You’ve already sentenced me to death.”

  “So, no sitting. All right, then. We can do this your way. As you know, we’ve had your son and your nurser here in the Keep since your arrest. I had you brought here so I could assure you that I will not malign you to him, ever, and that I will keep what is happening now from him until he’s old enough to handle it.”

  Now, she sat, set her hands heavy with metal on the table and leaned in. “Well, thank you, Nalin. I suppose I should say that eases my burden at the moment.” She paused, narrowed her eyes on him and then continued. “But it doesn’t. Look at me, tied and clipped, ready for slaughter. I’m going to die, with you, of all people, as my judge and executioner. Mark my words. The chronicles of these times will be filled with condemnation of your actions on this day and praise for my willingness to work with you in the ascendancy of my son from the moment this all began. And what do you get? My son as Empir anyway. And you having manipulated the evidence to make me look like the villain.”

  “Oh, stop. You are the villain. You could have declined the Thristans’ offer, you know.”

  “And there you go, talking about offers from the Thristans. As if you know anything about it.”

  “I know enough.” Nalin did, however, question his sanity in his decision to speak with her one last time.

  “I have a proposition for you.”

  “What now, Lorain?”

  “I don’t want to die. How about this? I admit publicly to my part in the abduction, and in return, you allow me to live the remainder of my life at Rossla Haven. I’ll still be a prisoner with all those damn hermits, but I’ll find a way to adjust.”

  Nalin shook his head. “Seriously, Lorain? With your skills at making up plots as you go along?”

  “Aren’t there things that some hermits can do to bind a person’s mind? You could order some sort of mental imprisonment. I mean, it is a thought.”

  “Lorain, you’re right. I’d made up my mind in this case long before all the evidence was assembled and organized. If there’d been anything to mitigate the circumstances, I would have considered rethinking it, but there was nothing. You conspired with the Thristans. Did you even know what they planned to do? Did you even care? Or did you just want the Empir gone to avenge Ariel’s death?”

  Lorain made to answer, but Nalin put up his hand.

  “No, no. I don’t need to know your motivation. At noon tomorrow, Commander Tanres, who is sharpening her best sword at the moment to make this as painless as possible, will execute you. Guards!”

  “No, Nalin, please. There’s got to be something I can do, something I can say.”

  The guards arrived, pulled Lorain up from the table and started to lead her away.

  “Please, Nalin, listen to me. I can—”

  “You took my leg, Lorain. And the Empir is
likely dead. Now get her out of here.”

  She didn’t scream. She didn’t continue begging. She left with the guards in silence, and Nalin sat back in his chair. He hated this. He hated everything about it. And once Lorain was gone, they’d have to declare Lisen gone as well. Yes, he hated all of this.

  Korin had ridden hard from the Khared for days, and now, as he approached home, he pulled his horse to a halt. The moon was full and outlined the mesa in light and shadow, every outcropping and crevice made visible, creating dimension. The desert at night stole his breath, and he thanked Mantar for bringing him back home to his daughter.

  An ache arose in his chest. Lisen. In favor of his daughter, he’d left Lisen behind. He thought he’d left the feelings behind as well, but he hadn’t. He’d avoided this truth for his entire journey home, but he could avoid it no longer. It hurt to know she was back in Avaret with Council due to convene, and he was here without her.

  He shook his head, hoping to return to reason. The Bonding had captured him, that was all. He could overcome it. But the feelings remained, immutable, and as he stared at the mesa, her face rose up in front of him—her face with the dark, blind eyes. And she was why he’d left his daughter behind, cared for by Hozia and a nurser he didn’t even know.

  Hozia would be waiting for him. Having sent his companions on without him while he cared for Lisen, they’d likely arrived two nights before him. He could picture Hozia looking out from the base of the mesa, tapping her foot impatiently as he hesitated to immerse himself fully back into the life he’d chosen. He prayed that Hozia’s plan of sending members of the Tribe unfamiliar with Lisen had worked. He prayed that no one suspected that the child in their midst, his child, was Garla’s Heir. Whether they knew or they didn’t, he had to get back to her.

  He urged his horse forward, his ambivalence playing with his soul. His beloved daughter was already three weeks older than when he’d left, no longer a newly emerged infant but a child whose eyes had begun trying to focus on her world. But behind him, in Garla, another love called.