"Are you in need of a doctor?" a woman's voice asked.
Derian looked into a painted face beneath an unplumed helmet and for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime thought of Doc.
"Doc!" he gasped. "Sir Jared. My companion. We were lured here. A man said he needed a doctor for his mother."
Seeing the woman's expression flow from genuine concern to complete confusion, Derian stopped, realizing he'd been speaking an incomprehensible mixture of New Kelvinese and Pellish. He started again:
"My companion, Sir Jared, is he all right? We came this way together, following a man who said his mother needed a doctor."
The guard shouted to her nearest companion.
"This one's alive. He says he had a companionùa foreigner like himself. See if you can find him."
As he hauled himself back onto his feet, Derian realized for the first time the extent of the damage. Numerous people lay unconscious or nursing a variety of wounds. No wonder the guard was uncertain about Jared.
Derian allowed her to escort him to a stone bench near the very fountain Wendee had thought so disquieting. Beneath the battling wizards and their amorphous foe, Derian repeated his story, then repeated it again when the many-plumed commander came over. Their experience at the Mushroom Stanza Inn with Captain Brotius had not prepared Derian to expect to be given the benefit of the doubt by New Kelvinese law, but this was a different situation.
"Several of the vendors confirm much of your account," the commander said. "They did not understand your foreign babble, but they confirm that you and your companion did nothing to incite the riot."
Derian asked hesitantly, "And my companion?"
"Sir Jared has an odd tale to tell," the commander said. "I have had him speaking to one of my company who speaks some of your language. Perhaps you could serve as translator in case we have missed something?"
In his deep relief, Derian didn't waste energy resenting that he hadn't been told sooner that Doc was well enough to talk, nor did he miss that the commander had taken care to get both of their accounts before letting them speak to each other.
"I would be pleased to assist, sir," Derian replied, trying to remember the appropriate formal gestures. "Could I beg the favor of a message being taken to our residence? News of this riot may have reached there and our friends may worry."
"This has already been done," the watch commander said with a slight smile, "at the request of Sir Jared, as soon as he was certain you were alive."
Doc looked far better than Derian did, and would have immediately begun on the redhead's injuries if the commander hadn't made quite clear that anything short of life-threatening damage would wait until he had his report. Doc's tale matched Derian's right up to where the riot began. Then it took an odd turn.
"I didn't know which way to go," he said, addressing the commander, though speaking through Derian, "and as I couldn't reach Derian, I went toward the man who had brought us here. I didn't really trust him, but I thought he could explain what was going on.
"As soon as I was within arm's reach, he drew me into a alley between two of the buildings bordering the marketùbakeries. I remember the scent of fresh bread distinctly. I thought something strange was going on and pushed away. It seemed like he wanted me to go into one of the shops."
"Perhaps he meant to keep you safe," the commander suggested.
"Perhaps," Doc agreed, "and I would have believed that myself if at that moment I hadn't realized I recognized him. Derian had tried to warn me there was something odd about himùodder even than his being our only patient todayùbut I hadn't listened. I guess I'd been too glad to have work. Now that we were close and I had no patient to worry about, I gave him a good look and that's when I realized that I did know him.
"Well," Doc paused to qualify, "not really know him, but that I'd seen him before. I'm absolutely certain that he was one of the men who attacked Firekeeper and Blind Seer at the Mushroom Stanza Inn."
Derian interrupted Doc long enough to explain. The watch commander frowned thoughtfully.
"I believe I read a report on that incident," he said. "Continue."
"There isn't much more to say," Doc shrugged. "Once I realized that this was likely some sort of plotùmaybe revenge for our being part of him and his buddies being sent to UrnaciaùI decided that the riot might be safer after all. When I reemerged into the market, you and your guards were already breaking things up. I started helping the nearest injured and looking for Derian."
"Very interesting," the commander said. "If I permit you to return to your residence, will I find you there if I have further questions?"
Derian answered for them both.
"Yes, sir, and if Hasamemorri throws us out, we'll make certain you know where to find us."
"I will take your word on that," the commander said. "Can you, Counselor Derian," he asked, surprising Derian by his awareness of his title, "walk or do you need a litter? In either case, I will delegate a few of my people to escort you safely to your door."
Derian wasn't at all sure he could walk the distance, but he'd rather collapse trying than admit it.
"I'll be fine, Commander," he said, "and thank you."
"Thank rather," the watch commander said with one of his quicksilver grins, "the keeper of the spice booth. Not only does she not wish to press charges for your theft of her goods, she has spoken most loudly about how you were attacked."
"I'll bring her my thanks," Derian said.
"But not now," the commander said, looking around at the still roiling throng. "But not now."
Derian, his head throbbing with the sudden release of tension, thoroughly agreed.
TORIO HAD HOPED that having Citrine learn to dance would break Melina's obviously sorcerous control over her daughter, but although the girl threw herself into the patterns of the Harvest Joy dance with a natural talent that would have had the Sodality of Dancers looking to recruit her had she been New Kelvinese, Citrine remained enslaved.
Studying her covertly when they were together, the Healed One wondered what the girl's childhood had been like. She spoke of it infrequently and when she did the subjects were inconsequential: a younger cousin who was apparently a favorite playmate, the pony she had left behind, dancing lessons with her sisters.
She never spoke of the things Torio really wanted to know about. What trauma had maimed her hand? Was it only her father's recent death and her mother's exile that caused the unease that lurked behind her eyes like fire behind a hearth screen? How did she feel about her family's dissolution?
Toriovico could not ask Melina these things. The one time he'd asked about Citrine's missing fingers, Melina had pushed his queries away with a light laugh and a suggestion that he think about something more intimate.
He obeyed, of course, though increasingly he was having trouble performing sexually with his wife. His pride had been stung when he realized that Melina didn't particularly care if he was able to bed her or not. All that mattered was her ability to order him to try.
One night, lying in the darkness with her lightly mocking laughter still ringing in his ears, Torio resolved that he would learn what it was that had cost Citrine her fingers. Perhaps it was somehow linked to how Melina controlled her victims.
Horrible images of ground bone dust and ointments made from blood and fat swarmed against the back of the Healed One's closed eyelids. It was too easy to imagine that omnipresent gemstone on Citrine's brow soaked in such potions before being bound onto the child's head.
If he was to learn what had happened to Citrine, he might find a way to ward himself against Melina's power. He was growing tired of fearing that some casual statement on his part might make her realize that her hold had slippedùand as he saw more and more the contempt in which she held him his deepest self was wounded. Toriovico might not have been reared with the expectation that he would be the Healed One someday, but all his father's children had known they were of a select line. That inherent pride did not care at all for
Melina's treatment of him.
True freedom might not be beyond him. He fell asleep with that hope keeping the more visceral horrors from becoming anything worse than nightmares.
A few days later, Toriovico decided to take advantage of another meeting with Xarxius, Dimiria, and Apheros on the question of Waterland trade to secure a private interview with the Dragon's Claw. As before, Xarxius was the obvious dissenter on a variety of matters. It was quite simple for Toriovico to request that Xarxius remain after the others had left.
If the other two had thought anything about the Healed One's request, it would have been to gloat that their rival was getting a dressing-down from on high.
What frightened Torio was that he didn't think they thought about it at all.
"How was your recent trip?" he asked Xarxius when they were alone. "You were in the south, weren't you?"
"That's right. Down near Zodara," Xarxius replied. "A matter of smuggling that needed to resolved."
"Ah."
Toriovico thought about asking more, decided that he was stalling, and went directly to the matter that really interested him. After all, he didn't know how long they would have before they were interrupted. He'd shifted the meeting to this room precisely because it wasùas far as he knewùimpossible for an outside observer to spy on what was said, but that meant that if anyone was curious, they would find an excuse to come in.
I'm getting paranoid, Toriovico thought with sorrowful pride. I don't think I ever was before. My father's death may have made me the Healed One, but it seems that it took Melina to make me a ruler like any other.
"I suppose you have heard about the arrival of Citrine Shield."
Xarxius nodded and there was a peculiar emphasis in his voice when he answered. "I had indeed. There is a matter related to Citrine's arrival that I had wished to speak to someone about, but I had not decided whether you or Consolor Melina would be best."
Toriovico was completely taken aback.
"Is the matter urgent or may I ask a few questions of you first?"
"It is urgent," Xarxius replied, "but not so urgent that a few questions will matter."
Toriovico almost told Xarxius to go ahead with his report, but he feared that he might become distracted. It was essential that he learn everything he could about Citrine in case her situation might shed some light on his own.
"Citrine seems a nice enough child, but neither she nor her mother will speak of certain matters," Torio began a touch awkwardly. "I thought it possible that with your knowledge of foreigners you might be able to brief me."
"I can only try, Healed One."
"How did the child lose her fingers? From how she holds her hand I sense that it is not an old injury but is one about which she is still sensitive."
Xarxius's hound-dog features sunk into even more mournful lines.
"The Healed One is correct," he said. "The injury is not old. It occurred last winter when Citrine was held captive by pirates in the eastern swamps of Hawk Haven."
"The pirates injured her?"
"After a fashion," Xarxius said carefully. "My sources say that the man who actually did the deed was the former Baron Wain Endbrook of the Isles."
"I believe I met him once," Toriovico said, wrinkling his brow in concentration. "He came bringing his queen's greetings. He hardly seemed like a man to mutilate a child."
"Men often are not what they seem," Xarxius said. "Women either, to be fair. Baron Endbrook was very deceptive. As you may recall, his diplomatic career in relation to our own land ended with him a hunted fugitive."
Toriovico thought he should remember, but his memories of that time were mingled with the cloudy imprecision that he was coming to associate with Melina's influence.
"Something to do with his treatment of my wife, wasn't it?" he asked.
"Yes, Honored One. Melina reported that one night when he had too much to drink Baron Endbrook attempted to seduce her. When she refused him he became violent."
Not too long ago, Torio would have failed to hear the emphasis on the word "reported." Now he did and found himself wondering if, like Columi, Xarxius was among those who had not fallen prey to the lady's charms.
"Melina put Baron Endbrook off," Xarxius continued, "and he apparently came sufficiently to his senses to realize the implications of what he had done. He fled. Grateful Peace, who had arrived to escort Melina and the baron to Dragon's Breath, sent his escort after Baron Endbrook but they failed to find him. Apparently, Endbrook took refuge with the pirates. The Isles have long been a haven for their sort, and this has not changed since Queen Valora ascended to the throne."
"And Citrine Shield was with these pirates?"
"That is what I have heard."
"How did a noble-born child come to be with the pirates?"
Xarxius looked uncomfortable.
"I cannot say, Honored One."
"Cannot or will not?"
Xarxius took a deep breath and let it out in a shuddering sigh. Toriovico felt that Xarxius's indecision was genuine, but also that the Dragon's Claw was playing a part as he might in one of his negotiations.
"What I know is the result of rumors," Xarxius said after thoughtful pause. "Some little more than tavern tales."
"If I give you my word that I will consider your sources," Toriovico replied, "will you tell me what you have heard?"
Xarxius nodded slowly.
"Speak then."
"What I heard is that Citrine Shield was left with the piratesùor their agentsùby Baron Endbrook."
"And how did he come to have custody of her?"
Xarxius looked pleading, and again Torio felt that the emotion was genuineùand the portrayal theatrical.
"I heard that her mother gave the child to him as a hostage to assure her own cooperation in the matter of the artifacts for whose interpretation Baron Endbrook had recruited her."
There was no need to ask which artifacts. Torio frowned, remembering.
"Yes, I recall that when Baron Endbrook first came to New Kelvin it was for the purpose of soliciting our skilled assistance in awakening the power of those artifacts. He was sent away, though. I cannot remember if I ever knew why. Apheros handled the matter, not me."
"Baron Endbrook was sent away because," Xarxius said heavily, "he was an ignorant Islander. Someone had the thought that we needed a fresh point of viewùa new expertiseùin order to have the best chance of awakening the artifacts' power."
Toriovico frowned, sensing all manner of intrigue. It hardly mattered now. The artifacts were stolenùsome said destroyedùand only Melina remained. She was his current problem.
You are telling me," the Healed One said very carefully so that Xarxius would not think him either distracted or angry, "that Melina gave her own youngest daughter as a hostage for her behavior, that Baron Endbrook cut off that daughter's fingers as a threat, and that Melina did not act?"
"That is what the rumors say, Honored One," Xarxius said stiffly. "Of course, Melina may have acted in a manner of which we know nothing."
Toriovico thought, Yes. She remained here, seduced me, beguiled me into wedding her, and now is working on reigning through me and my ministers. I know. I wonder if Xarxius does.
Somehow, the Healed One thought he might.
"But the child is no longer with the pirates," Torio said, returning to safer topics. "Did her mother redeem her?"
"No, Honored One. Citrine was rescued from captivity by her sister, Crown Princess Sapphire of Hawk Haven, actingùso it is saidùon information brought to her by those perfidious criminals who were responsible for the theft of the artifacts."
"I see. And how came Citrine here, then?"
Xarxius drew in a deep breath.
"She was brought here."
"At her mother's request?"
Torio suddenly felt a rush of suspicion against the girl. What plans had her mother for her? Was she to inherit New Kelvin as Sapphire would Hawk Haven? Did Melina mean to set all her children on thrones? He'd heard
that Princess Sapphire bore no love for her mother, but that could be false.
Xarxius, however, was shaking his head.
"Not that I have heard. I have only just begun looking into the matter, but it seems that Citrine was brought here by a trade commission headed by a Lady Archer and Lord Kestrel, both heirs apparent to important houses in Hawk Haven. It is uncertain why the child came with them, but what is clear is that Citrine fled her guardians and came seeking her mother of her own accord."
"How do you know this?"
"Her guardians have written me"ùXarxius removed several sheets of paper from the sleeve of his robeù"explaining the situation and requesting the child's return. As I understand the matter, since her exile Melina is regarded as holding no legal rights to Citrine. Therefore, Melina's continued custody of the childùwho is a minor and therefore considered property of her Houseùcould be viewed as theft. If a stricter interpretation was made, the situation could be viewed as kidnapping."
"Even if the child ran away of her own accord?"
"Even so," Xarxius said, toying with the letters. "Our own legal code would view the matter in a similar light. Indeed, given that we have upheld Waterland laws regarding slaves and have asked that Hawk Haven do the same in the matter of our slaves who flee across the White Water, those who drafted this request are not only within rights granted by their own laws, they are also within reasonable interpretation of our own."
Toriovico was fascinated, and had to fight against being diverted into a discussion of legal matters.
"So what you wanted to speak to me about was whether or not Melina should be permitted to retain custody of Citrine."
"Yes, Honored One."
"If Melina wishes to keep Citrine, what can these guardians do?"
"They hint at taking legal action," Xarxius said, "and that could have very unpleasant ramifications for trade. You must recall that Citrine is the biological sibling of Princess Sapphire. There would be no delays in this case being heard. The only delays would be in the speed the messages could be carried. However, Citrine's guardians may choose another course."
The Dragon of Despair Page 53
