He was annoyed that his order to make the death seem an accident had gone unheeded, and if he hadn't had Devon baby-sitting Jezebel, he would have sent him to find out where the lapse in communication had been. As it was, he was simply too busy with damage control to worry about how it had all started. But at least that particular member was a threat no more. He had definitely been the most ambitious, not including Jezebel, of course. So Nathair could probably handle the other ones until he had a free moment to focus on them again.
The capital city seemed to have borne the brunt of the quake's power, and those larger cities around the barrier. Where the barrier had been. He corrected himself. As was to be expected, the places with bigger buildings had more destruction. Luckily, the farmers seemed to have fared fairly well, and it was a miracle that the grain storehouse here in the capital had been unharmed by the raging fires that had swept across the city in the aftermath.
With the plans that he had set in motion -yes, plans that I came up with and implemented, he thought angrily, thinking of the stories spread by the late councilman - the crisis should be properly contained. Though it would take some years to rebuild and restock what had been lost, there should be a minimum of unnecessary deaths.
His thoughts wandered once more to the girl. That Layna is a commoner. I wonder how many others there are like us who have escaped the Order's notice simply because they were common. All too often the commoners were underestimated and overlooked for the simple reason that they were common. It was a fault of his peers that Nathair did not intend to repeat.
There was no reason to discount those who were not noble simply because of their family name. The God's seed had been spread far and wide, and had many names now. Just look at my beginnings. He dashed the thought from his mind. No use pondering old memories now.
He donned his most elaborate robes, and set the gold-encrusted circlet upon his head. He disliked the cumbersome crown that the council tried to get him to wear. The circlet and his own strong presence were more than adequate to remind whoever he was with that he was King.
Satisfied with his appearance, he strode out of his suites towards the audience hall. His two body-guards fell into step behind him, and their familiar mind-touches set him at ease. Upon the announcement of his arrival, a hush spread over the crowded room and they rose as one to honor him.
He swept his gaze over his subjects, and sent out a magical probe at the same time, analyzing the emotions swirling throughout the room. He felt wariness, excitement, and tension. All emotions that were consistent with his proclamation that he would be performing a powerful display of old magic. There was some anger - Nathair guessed he had the former councilman to thank for this - but it was not enough for him to worry about. There was also a predominant feeling all across the room: Fear.
Good.
He raised his hands for them to be seated and bade them welcome. “Greetings, my people. Thank you for joining me on this historic day. Today will mark the beginning of a new age of magic. Too long have we squandered our powers for fear of repeating our dark history. Too long have we lived in the shadow of the past. And too long have we been isolated from our brothers in Treymayne. It is time to embrace our talents, and give thanks to the Gods by using these talents to the fullest and re-unite with our estranged countrymen!”
This was the cue for the priests in the ceremony to perform, and they stepped forward dutifully. Before the Order had realized that he was not the puppet that they thought him to be, they had set the stage for the Priesthood supporting his rule, and he had made it impossible for them to take away that support.
The priest-mages stood forward and called upon the power, causing a shower of coins to rain down upon the audience. The people gasped and scrambled around, grabbing at the coins greedily. When they had quieted down, he continued. “We shall rebuild our cities with magic, and come back from this disaster bigger. Better. Stronger!”
The priests flourished their hands once more and a dais was built before him, in front of the people's very eyes and seemingly out of thin air. He stepped out onto it proudly, demonstrating the strength and reality of the structure.
One of the priests was beginning to falter, Nathair could feel the man's energy fading, and he immediately lent him his own strength. It wouldn't do for one of the priest-mages to faint after such a small demonstration of power when he was promising the people that it could rebuild their city.
Nathair planned to utilize the priest-mages himself rather than allowing the temple to continue to waste their powers on performing false miracles and supposed acts of the gods. The nobles who had paid for training would have to be persuaded to join his cause by other means. No doubt the promise of advancement would draw many of them in, and if that didn't work Nathair would simply have to get more persuasive.
Nathair left a tiny channel open to the faltering priest, who straightened and did a final little flick of his wrist to burst flowers into being along the edges. Gasps went through the crowd again. Though this was little more impressive than the displays that the priests usually put on for their religious events, this was something out of the ordinary, and served to work the people into an excited frenzy.
He stood on the center of the dais, and waved a hand out over the crowd grandly, swinging it around to rest behind him where Jezebel stood. At his command she glided forward to stand to his right, and he presented her to the crowd as well. “My First Advisor, the Lady Jezebel.” They cheered for her with fanatical exuberance in their excited state. She had healed remarkably well, even better than he had thought possible given the mangled state she had been left in by her hounds.
Nathair looked to his left where he knew that Karl was sitting. The man hadn't done well in hiding his surprise at Jezebel's sudden reappearance. He met his eyes and Nathair's smile broadened.
Karl paled. Nathair could feel the fear emanating off the man. Nathair had heard that Karl had had another loss lately as well, and he was looking rather worse for wear with all the bad luck. It had been good luck for Nathair, however, as it had been the key to gaining some very vital information about the Order’s activities.
Nathair turned his attention back to his prize. “My First Advisor shall be my voice, my emissary, into the forgotten half of our country. While we rebuild our houses and our lives at home, she will work to rebuild the relationship between our two halves.” She smiled, and Nathair had the fleeting thought that her teeth seemed to be more canine than before. He reached out to take her hand and led her to the circle of flowers at the tip of the dais.
Her flowing gown scattered them as she stepped over, and Devon rushed forward to fulfill his part in this scene. He gathered the flowers back together, and knelt before the woman. Nathair thought it was a rather fitting picture of the two of them.
When they had taken their places, Nathair raised his hands for silence. He was given it immediately.
He withdrew his probes from the crowds and severed the channel to the priest. He gathered the power around himself like a blanket, drawing on the natural streams as well as taking power from the stones that were embedded into his belt, as well as the rather large blood-red one that now hung permanently around his neck. He had replenished their strength last night as he had prowled the streets to survey the damage to the city with his own eyes.
The silence was growing heavy over the room, and Jezebel and Devon stood like statues on the dais. Nathair took a deep breath and whispered the words of power, throwing his hands out theatrically. A column of bright blue light burst into being around Jezebel and Devon and a brilliant white flash blinded him for a moment as they were transported out of the circle.
The lights dimmed.
The dais was empty.
The crowd was silent for a moment more. Then they burst into applause. Nathair did not have the strength left to send another probe to gage their emotions, but the awe on their faces told him what he needed to know. They respected him, and perhaps feared him, but most importantly
would follow him. Satisfied, he left the ceremony.
The priests had been instructed to carry on a festival in celebration of the reawakening of the old magic, and make it a good one. The sounds of this merriment followed him to his suite, where he collapsed onto his bed. Just before he fell into slumber, a voice whispered in his ear, tickling him as the warm breath passed along his skin.
“Bravo,” his mother's voice mocked him. His lips twitched, but he was too tired to answer her.
*
Jezebel felt as though her insides were being pulled out of her, and then all at once stuffed back in. She sucked in her breath and struggled for control of her gut as her feet found solid ground once more. It was no longer the wood of the dais in the audience hall, but rather the soft feel of grass.
As soon as she was able, she opened her eyes and was pleased by the sight before her. King Nathair said that he had sent news of her impending arrival, and the people of Treymayne looked to have paid heed to her importance.
They had set out a circle of flowers like the one that had been arranged back home, and there were several large royal tents set up in preparation for her. Three ancient old men stood before her, looking rather dumbfounded at her sudden appearance, and she rewarded them with a beaming smile.
One of them regained his wits before the other two and he addressed her. “Welcome, First Advisor, and Emissary for Gelendan. We welcome you to Bakersfield on behalf of all of Treymayne.” Jezebel nodded her acceptance to him.
She had found it annoying that she would have to be transported all the way to Treymayne only to then have to travel to the capital of Endlyfta by foot, but Nathair had insisted that it would have been bad manners to pop her directly into their audience hall. Jezebel thought it would have been proper for her to show how strong she was to be able to appear right in their midst. But no matter, I am here now.
The man went on diplomatically. “You honor us with your presence. I am Lord Masterson; this is Baron Thebius,” he gestured to the other two men in turn, “and Lord Sumners. We form the current Triumvirate of the Ieldran.” Jezebel was slightly surprised despite herself that the three most important people in Treymayne would make themselves available for her arrival. She was gratified at their recognition of her importance.
She nodded to them, indicating that she was aware of the form of government that they now followed here. Another display of Gelendan's, and her, power that they were able to garner this information even whilst the border was closed. The man seemed unfazed, and she gave him credit for that.
He indicated the tents behind them. “We have refreshments and entertainment, and there,” he pointed to a closed tent at the end, “is where the rest of your belongings that were sent along were put. As we were unsure if you would want to travel right away after your passage, we have arranged to stay the night here if that is acceptable?”
Jezebel normally would have avoided spending the night outside, but given the great lengths they seemed to have gone to ensure her comfort, she decided that she could allow them this small favor as no doubt her tent would be at least satisfactorily furnished. Not to mention the fact that she was suddenly feeling incredibly light-headed. “That would be fine,” she consented and she extended her hand for him to take to guide her to the refreshment table.
As much as she tried to hide the fact that the passage had indeed affected her, she was unsteady on her feet and glad for the excuse that this gesture of politeness offered her. Devon trailed along behind them and as she reached for the food and drink, she gave him leave to do the same.
She exchanged a few idle words with the Triumvirate while they grazed the buffet table. “It has been some time since we've last hosted someone from as far away as you,” commented the man introduced as Lord Sumners. “Where in Gelendan are you from?”
“I was born and raised in our capital, Naoham, though I have traveled extensively and my family has manors all over the country. As I now have become First Advisor, my presence is very important at the capital so I fear that as of late I have seen little of the rest of the countryside. And yourself?”
“My holdings are far to the south, by the mouth of the Great River. There is a city on your side, Avonmora I believe, that we have had limited dealings with in the past. There are some fine blacksmiths in that town. Do you deal much with merchant trading?”
“I own a lace shop in Naoham, and my father is the best-known gem trader in the country. My family is very well known.”
“Ah,” cut in Lord Masterson, “my wife would love to speak to you about the lace. She has just gotten into embroidery herself, she's always looking to expand her knowledge.”
Jezebel daintily took a bite of a pastry to cover her annoyance. “Now, of course, I am far too busy with matters of importance to spend too much time with lace myself,” she told him with an air of superiority. She added, “though I did just complete a business transaction where we took over another shop as well. Big business you know.” This, of course, was a lie, but how would he ever know the difference. It irritated her that he would presume that she was little more than a woman who fancied lace.
“I would imagine. I hope that you did not sustain much damage from the barrier's destruction?”
Jezebel smiled gamely. She was not about to enlighten them as to the country's affairs, and she put out a line of her own to try and get him to betray some piece of information instead. “No worse than yours I'm sure. Was that expected when you took it down?”
The Baron interrupted, “Now now, let's not talk politics quite yet, there will be plenty of time for that come the morrow. Tonight you are our honored guest, and it is our job to entertain you.”
Jezebel nodded at the man's pleasant smile, wishing for her talent to help read his intentions. He placed a hand under her elbow, and she allowed him to guide her to another tent where a small stage had been erected in front of several lavish chairs. He led her to the center-most seat, and she sat gratefully.
Devon shadowed behind her, unspeaking. As she watched the promised entertainment, a realization came over her. Her memory was returning. By no means was it fully back, but the answers to the questions about her life had come easily and naturally. So naturally that she hadn't even taken notice while it happened. She had been too caught up in the exchange of wits, careful not to reveal anything substantial while still appearing open and forthcoming. Many of the memories were still blurry, as though they had happened to someone else, and it was rather confusing to sort through. Some of it was just instinctively there. She knew who she was now, and could remember the vague direction that her life had taken her. There was something nagging at the back of her mind, tickling the edge of her consciousness, but it passed before she could concentrate on it.
Laughter broke out around her and Jezebel formed her lips into a smile as well, as though she was humoring the actors who were performing for her though she really had been paying no attention to them whatsoever. Moments later she let out a long sigh. She was very tired from her travels and was ready to give up the charade of being entertained and retire for the evening.
Devon made her excuses for her before she even lifted a finger. No wonder I kept this man around. She took his elbow as he offered it, and he led her to the tent which had been erected for her stay. He held open the curtain across the door, but did not enter with her, leaving her in privacy. A maid rushed forward to help her out of her dress and into a lovely silk nightgown that apparently was a gift from the Ieldran. The soft material slid across her skin like a delicate embrace and she sank into the billowy nest of blankets.
Perhaps whatever that thought had been would come to her tomorrow.
CHAPTER 7
Layna looked at herself in the mirror and pulled her brows together while tugging at the back of the dress. She could hardly breathe in the corset that had been snuggly tied around her middle. By someone else! It felt so awkward to have someone waiting on her, and though she tried to tell them she could do it herself, they
insisted on hovering over her, showing her deference that she was not comfortable with in the least.
Gryffon’s initial message had been brought to the council, but several members had been called away immediately so they had been unable to properly present it. Once they had realized that she wasn’t from Treymayne, however, she was moved to the guest quarters in the palace.
For some reason, she had been exalted to honorary guest status simply because she was from Gelendan. Layna half wondered if it hadn’t had something to do with Aileen’s interference as well. Echo’s association with her gave her significant clout within the council and Layna fervently hoped she wasn’t in there spouting nonsense about her being the world’s savior.
Gryffon had presented his information already to the higher-ups who ran the branch that handled Treymayne’s espionage, and Layna had been asked dozens of questions dozens of times about the events in Gelendan, but they still wanted them to present it - again - directly to the council. Gryffon had also gotten quite a tongue-lashing for having disobeyed their orders, but hopefully the importance of the information would outweigh his infraction. They had both been mercilessly grilled on and then scolded for their part in taking down the barrier. Luckily for them, Aileen, with Echo’s support behind her, bore the brunt of their irritation over this action.
Apparently the most important three members were currently on a special welcoming mission to greet the emissary from Gelendan, so they had to wait for their return before they could finally present their information formally to the entire council. Layna and Gryffon both were very curious who it was that had been sent, and what King Nathair may be offering or asking for by this invitation of peace when both countries were well aware of his former plans for war.
She made another face at herself in the mirror. The reflection in the mirror wasn’t bad, in fact, Layna had never felt more beautiful in her life - it just wasn’t her. She had been ambushed by the maids this morning and one had even gotten a coating of make-up on her before she could convince them that she really didn’t need them to wait on her hand and foot, that she was fully capable of getting dressed herself.
Those Who Fear the Darkness (BloodRunes: Book 2) Page 10
