Sworn To Secrecy: Courtlight #4

by Edun, Terah

  A few minutes later, Lillian said, “Now that that’s settled, perhaps we should all get some rest.”

  A mumble of agreement followed. Ciardis wondered with unease where Raisa had disappeared to.

  “What about Raisa?”

  Thanar said, “It might take minutes or hours for her to complete the turn back. Depends on the dragon and most don’t share that information publicly.”

  “Right, so?” Ciardis said.

  “She’ll be fine,” said Caemon with a yawn, “She has teeth big enough to spear a human if someone messes with her.”

  Ciardis said with a patience she didn’t feel. “I wasn’t worried about her safety, I was worried about ours. We need to know why they came after us tonight and how she knew they were coming. Not to mention if anyone or anything else will be coming tonight.”

  Thanar grimaced.

  Lillian spoke. “You’re right.” Her tone held unflattering surprise.

  “Thank you mother.”

  “But there’s no predicting if or when she’ll come back,” said Vana.

  Ciardis said, “I know. At the least we can have someone wait for her. A servant maybe. Then they can wake the others.”

  “Not a servant,” said Lillian, “We need someone skilled in defense in case of another attack. A mage would be even better. It should be one of us.”

  “We should set up a watch then. Everyone takes a shift, so that we all can get some rest. We’ll keep an eye out for her and trouble that way,” said Caemon

  “Agreed,” said Thanar.

  Ciardis nodded.

  Then Thanar added, “Everyone sleeps in the parlor.”

  As one Lillian, Vana, Ciardis, and Thomas turned to look across the hallway at the destroyed parlor with cushion stuffing still floating in the air and chairs like kindling strewn across the floor.

  They looked back at Thanar with a range of expressions on their faces.

  He quickly amended his statement.

  “Everyone sleeps in their chambers with their door open so they can hear each other call out,” he said.

  “That sounds much better,” said Vana in a voice like sweet poison.

  Thanar grimaced and turned his eyes away with a grumbled, “I’ll take first watch. Lillian you’re second.”

  As they left the library and walked up the stairs, a hollow knock rang out from the massive front door. They all turned and stared at the entrance. A maid scurried from behind the curved grand staircase, where the entrance to the servant’s quarters lay, dodged a pile of nasty looking nail-spiked wood, and proceeded to open the door.

  She spoke to the gentleman outside quietly and then shut the door. Turning around, she addressed the haggard group gathered on the stairs.

  “Master Steadfast,” she said in a timid voice. “Two men from the magistrate’s court await outside.”

  Lord Steadfast frowned and climbed down the stairs, weaving around Ciardis and Caemon, and Vana, who stood with a sharp knife in each hand and an expression that said she was ready to disembowel someone.

  “It’s less than three hours to dawn,” he murmured. “What could possibly be so important at this hour?”

  “I didn’t even know the magistrate’s minions worked this late,” said Lillian in a sharp voice from where she stood at the base of the stairs.

  “Yes.” Thanar frowned. “Be careful, Lord Steadfast. It might be a trap.”

  The maid waited in the parlor hall for his instructions.

  The lord of the manor visibly straightened his waistcoat. He gave his order to the maid. “Open the door.”

  The maid curtsied and pulled it open wide. When the two men standing on the doorstep looked inside they saw the lord chamberlain standing in the hall foyer with a group of blooded and bedraggled individuals standing a few feet behind him. They took off their caps and smoothly bowed to their host.

  “What can I do for you gentlemen on this late night? Or early morning, depending on your preference.”

  The men got the hint. They hastily rose and stated their business.

  “We’re sorry for the late hour, your lordship. We’re here as wranglers on behalf of the magistrate’s court. Lady Lillian Weathervane is to be confined to the house immediately.”

  The second man licked his lips and handed over the sealed scroll he carried in his hands. The lord chamberlain said nothing. He merely took the scroll, unrolled it, and read it line-by-line.

  “It’s signed and sealed with the personal seal of the high magistrate, Lady Weathervane,” he said reluctantly, “I fear that this is a legitimate order, although quite unusual to be delivered at so late an hour.”

  The men shuffled.

  Lillian swept up the parlor hall as elegantly as if the floor wasn’t covered in nails, wood, stone, and assorted odds and ends from the destroyed chambers adjacent to the hallway. She silently took the scroll from the lord chamberlain. After a minute she let it snap closed.

  “What were the specifications of the house confinement as told to you?” she asked.

  “We’ve been given a tracking bracelet. It’s a second-tier model that will notify the courts not only of your whereabouts but will also render you unconscious and/or immobile if you so much as step foot outside of this manor,” said one man.

  “What exactly do you mean by the ‘manor’?” Ciardis called out.

  “The physical building, your ladyship,” he said. “Even the grounds are off limits.”

  That was what she had been afraid of. They weren’t joking around.

  “And how exactly, then, am I supposed to get to my trial a few days hence?” asked Lillian.

  “There’ll be someone here to escort you on the morning,” said the second man.

  “It seems we don’t have much of a choice,” said the lord chamberlain reluctantly as he adjusted his spectacles. “It was signed, sealed, and approved.”

  “Very well,” Lady Lillian said. “Let’s get this over with.”

  She turned and sat down on the only piece of unbroken furniture in the hallway—a spare butler’s stool.

  Hiking up her dress, she displayed a bare ankle. The glare she leveled at the men said she was just as likely to kick them in the chin as let them attach the bracelet to her ankle.

  The two men looked at each other and then back at the lord chamberlain. He smirked.

  For once, he wasn’t on the receiving of the Lady Weathervane’s ire.

  Chapter 10

  The next morning dawned cool and peaceful. Or, well, as peaceful as it could be when the parlor had been completely obliterated, the dining room was no longer recognizable, and the library was a warzone of fluttering paper, broken shelves, and disarrayed furniture. Ciardis could hear the bustle of the servants in the hallway and their not so subtle chatter about the destruction and havoc that had been wreaked on their home. The conversations made her uneasy. She had no doubt that the emperor was aware that she and her family were guests of Steadfast Manor, but it wouldn’t do for the entire city to know about the state of their affairs. Gossiping servants would spread that news faster than wildfire.

  It might be time for us to find another home within Sandrin, she decided. One that was defensible, less ostentatious, and more private. Meaning few, if any, servants. That, of course, removed the Companions’ Guild hall from all consideration. She wasn’t even sure they would take Thanar in even if the need for privacy didn’t already disqualify the guild hall from the running. She also didn’t know what the members of the guild thought of herself and her mother. She had no doubt their actions wouldn’t rate very high in any of the Companion Council members’ eyes, particularly not those of the Rithmatist—the creepy man with the power to control the body and actions of another. He had been quite put out about her profound skepticism of the noble court and the Companions’ Guild before. And that was putting his displeasure with her mildly. He’d be even less inclined to like her now. Especially since the head of the Companions’ Guild wasn’t around to restrain his actions.
She remembered his ability to restrict her movements and vocals with dread. Having someone else control your body wasn’t pleasant. Ever.

  “I wonder whom they have appointed to replace Maree Amber,” she wondered aloud as she sat on the edge of bed to put on her boots. With a final tug she stood up and shrugged on her heavy cloak.

  “At least I didn’t have to change clothes,” she said with dark humor as she snapped the cloak fastened at her throat, “Having the last watch definitely had its benefits.”

  She gotten to rest longer and dawn had quickly arose. With the sun rising the servants had awoke as well, giving the manor a less creepy feel.

  Then a brilliant idea appeared in her head. It might not be the sanest idea, but it might solve at least one of the many problems that she needed to address while at court. With the death of Maree Amber, who had served as the head of both the Companions’ Council and the Companions’ Guild, a void in leadership had opened up in the most important positions for one of the empire’s largest guilds. The Companions’ Guild controlled fortunes and members across the empire. Ciardis smiled in glee, thinking she might be visiting the Companions’ Guild sooner than she had previously thought, because the council might be the key to persuading nobility across the empire to join their cause against the evil coming from the north.

  Putting the thought aside as she tugged on her gloves and walked downstairs she surveyed the dining room. Its walls were the only part of the room left standing, and they were barely there at all. Large holes the size of a frost giant appeared in odd places with fluttering scraps of wallpaper and plaster the only remainder of the once elegant space. Next to the dining room was the library, now a mass of broken wood, torn paper, and cracked marble floors. In both rooms, such as they were, servants were sweeping up the shattered glass and broken wood. As she emerged from the hallway overlooking the first floor, she was surprised to see someone waiting down below. Arms crossed belligerently and wings slightly spread, Thanar looked up at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

  “Something I can help you with?” Ciardis said lightly as she met him at the foot of the stairs.

  “Yes,” Thanar said. “Tell me how you knew about what happened in the Ameles Forest.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Don’t play coy with me,” he said flatly. “Right before that fiery harridan appeared...”

  “Hold it? Who?”

  He ground his teeth together. “Firelancer, the one with gift of controlling fires. She appeared in a firestorm and tried to kill me the moment she arrived.”

  “Oh! I do remember that. She certainly had surprise on her side when she threw that massive ball of flames at you before you could flee,” Ciardis said.

  “And as you remember – I happened to be fusing the hole in my heart at the time. Courtesy of your prince heir.”

  “I remember. One of our best moments actually,” she said, “Since you were about to tell me everything you knew about the coming god of destruction.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “You and I have different recollections then.”

  She shrugged. “Lucky you, I remember you surprising her as well. That shadow and mist trick you do comes in handy.”

  “I know.”

  Her lips twitched in amusement.

  “As I was saying on the battlefield after the defeat of the wyvern and Barnaren’s death, you asked me about what I saw in the Ameles Forest.”

  Ciardis narrowed her eyes and stuck her gloved hands into her own pockets. “And you said that ‘midnight fire and death flaming’ was what you saw. What did you mean by that?”

  A ghost of a smile flickered on his face as he leaned down. “Good memory, Weathervane, but even if I knew what it was I saw, I still wouldn’t tell you.”

  “That’s strange since I was under the impression that the daemoni prince knew everything, being a healer, a murderer, and a mage all at once. Could it be possible that even you can’t fathom what went on in the Ameles Forest?”

  He leaned back and an angry tic appeared at the edge of his mouth. He said nothing further.

  She folded her arms across her chest from where she stood a few steps higher than him with a satisfied look. “Then it seems we’re at an impasse. Because you have nothing of value to me without answering that query.”

  Thanar snorted and ducked his head. For a moment his raven-black hair fell in his eyes and his gaze took on a darkly intense look as he studied the crumbled marble beneath his feet.

  “If I tell you why I was there and what I saw before it turned to darkness, then you can at least exchange what you know,” he said.

  “Why? Why is the forest so important to you all of a sudden?”

  He hissed in anger as his eyebrows raised in ire. “There is no ‘all of a sudden’ about it. The Ameles Forest was once home to my people. Before they were forced to serve and...relocate.”

  Something about the way he said the last word made Ciardis uneasy, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why.

  “And? What? You went back to reconnect with your homeland?” She could hear his teeth grinding together in ire. But he refrained from anything more than tense words.

  “No. I went there to serve my people.”

  “How?”

  Apparently sharing time had ended though, because Thanar didn’t answer her as he stepped back with stiff shoulders. She could see it in his eyes that he wouldn’t give her any more information. But she had to press on, there was something there, something important, something Thanar was holding back and wasn’t sharing with her. So she lashed out at him, hoping for a reaction.

  “So you went to your old homeland to serve your people. And by ‘people,’ I assume you mean kith, right? Since the daemoni are such gracious benefactors of all the kith races.” He could probably hear the derision in her voice.

  Thanar didn’t answer her question. It was rhetorical anyway. Ciardis continued unabated.

  “The same people you needlessly slaughtered?”

  This time he bared his teeth in the semblance of a smile. He saw through her ruse and lashed right back with cruelty. “The death of a daemoni is always for the greater good. My subjects knew what they were doing, what they were sacrificing their lives for.”

  Angered, she came down the steps one-by-one. “Did they? Did they really know you intended to take their lives? The lives of innocent children, cowed women, and beaten men? They came for sanctuary and protection only to be led to the slaughter like calves in winter by the very individuals they saw as their protectors.”

  He was motionless. His face unreadable.

  She continued, “And you as their ruler should have stopped them and stopped yourself. You knew the penalty for your actions in the Sanctuary. You knew that countless lives would be claimed. And you pushed on. Not only sacrificing their lives, but also lives of your daemoni kin. And you can’t twist that around. When your death sentence was announced, you welcomed the killing arrows with open arms. You didn’t resist, and neither did your fellow mages.”

  “It was all for the true cause,” he said dispassionately.

  “And yet,” she said her golden eyes flashing in anger, “everyone else died for the true cause. And here you stand, whole and well.”

  He spread his arms and his wings. “And look what I accomplished. The first tests of the blutgott came forth. Proof that the god is listening to his subjects and proof to him that we serve his cause, sacrifice for him and will die for him.”

  She searched his eyes and whispered, “And what could the god of death and destruction possibly give you that warrants your absolute loyalty to him?”

  A chilling look of glee crossed Thanar’s face. “Revenge.”

  She swallowed and looked away and then back at him. “Revenge is nothing when you lose everyone and everything you would fight to avenge. Even if you can’t fight for your people, how can you stand here knowing that I intend to do everything in my power to stop the blutgott before he arises? To stop you if I mus
t.”

  Thanar laughed gently, as if she were a child challenging him, a giant. His gaze became darker. The rich tones of turmoil and passion flashing through his gaze.

  “Why am I here?” he echoed softly. “Because you fascinate me, Ciardis. Because I wish to possess you. And because you, being you, have yet to understand what that truly means.”

  Suddenly the room felt hot. It shouldn’t have. Not with the chill breeze that wafted across Ciardis’s body.

  Thanar smirked at the flash of want and fear in her eyes.

  Stepping back with a knowing look, he said, “Perhaps we’re not so far apart after all.”

  “I would think you were,” said a coolly elegant voice. It was like ice on the wind.

  Ciardis gasped and turned around. For a moment she feared that this was another illusion. A cruel dream she would wake from at any moment. But no, there he stood – Sebastian Athanos Algardis. Smiling, she choked back a sob and stilled her face. She didn’t know if she was welcome. She didn’t know if he would try to stop her return to court, thwart her family’s plan and she had to proceed with care.

  She might love the man, but he was the prince heir first. A lesson she had learned painfully in the north.

  “Ciardis,” he said as he walked forward. She came down the hallway towards him. Stopping just out of reach.

  “Sebastian,” she said.

  He smiled and opened his mind to her.

  And she felt what had been missing – his passion, his heartache and his desire to make amends.

  With tears that she couldn’t hold back she threw her arms around his neck and said, “I’ve missed you.”

  He whispered into her ear as he held her close. “I’ve missed you, too.”

  She leaned back and looked up into his face. This close, she felt more than his emotions. Before she could pull back and get their joint mind link under control she was thrust into his head. Not just hearing his thoughts, but seeing through his eyes and hearing through his ears. It was just for a moment, but the double vision gave her a splitting headache.