“We don’t have to kill him. He’s not the Mandrevecchian. All we have to do is expose him.”
“At which point he’ll be executed.”
“Justly, though, right?”
She looked at Jole. “I can’t. I… I need some time to think.”
Jole grimaced, then glared at Elaine, then pointed her shaking sword tip at the boy. Giving a groan of frustration, she whirled around and threw the sword at the wall. The point caught the wallpaper, tearing a gash in it as it clattered to the marble floor. Jole strode over to it, picked it up without speaking, and sheathed it. “OK, let’s go. I’ll get the message to Paric and Gird.” She crossed the room to the large double doors and laid a hand on the knob. “We’re pulling out.”
“I’m sorry, Jole,” Elaine said softly. “I know you’ve been planning this for years.”
“Lifetimes. I can wait while you think about this.”
Together, they left the palace in silence.
78
Elaine
“Well, that was quite a night,” Jole commented when they reached home.
Elaine laughed again, the sound surprising her. Behind the laugh, a sob threatened to rise up. She took a deep breath, dropped into a chair, and closed her eyes. The image of her father the last time she’d seen him came to mind. The real last time she’d seen him. Not the execution. She clenched her jaw and placed a hand over her eyes.
You lied to me. You lied to me and you let me think you were dead. And you left.
Images flashed across her mind’s eye. Her father being led away by the guard, her father apologizing for not being at the race. No wonder you didn’t go. You were planning an assassination. She wanted to reach into her memory, grab her father and shake him. You could have told me. A warm tear trickled down her face, and she sensed Jole hovering nearby. So what if I’m not a good liar? She clenched her fists. I could have helped.
Ironically, he had been a traitor. In the truest sense of the word, but he hadn’t been executed for it.
Jole disappeared, returning a few minutes later with tea, which she set on a table next to Elaine. Then she returned to her hovering.
The front door banged open and Paric and Gird burst in.
“What the thirteen gods do you mean by—” He stopped, seeing the look on Elaine’s face. “What happened?”
Elaine took a few deep breaths, trying to regain some sense of composure. “The Mandrevecchian is dead.”
“So… you succeeded then?” Paric asked, bemused. “I hadn’t even gotten to my main job yet…Then why did you—?”
“No.” Elaine picked up the teacup and took a sip. The heat scalded her throat, bringing her back to herself. “The Mandrevecchian was dead when we got there. My father—Coralie—killed her. Reincarnated in her place.”
Paric’s eyes went wide. “Yqtos’ balls,” he breathed. “I’d never thought the girl had the… balls.”
“Are you quite certain?” Gird asked.
“Yes,” Elaine said. “We went to his chambers, and he recognized me.”
“Wait.” Paric held up a hand. “You both went? That wasn’t the plan.”
Elaine glanced at Jole, whose expression was stony.
“We had a change of plans. We—”
“Don’t lie for me, Elaine. I betrayed you.”
“I knew it,” Paric breathed.
“Pardon me,” Gird interjected. “This may be a… foolish question… but if you betrayed us… then why are you still here?”
“She had a change of heart,” Elaine said.
“Oh, how wonderful,” Paric snapped.
“We are all alive, however, it seems,” Gird said. “The treachery must not have run very deep.”
“No,” Jole said. “It’s an accident that you’re alive. I sent a coded message to what I thought was the Mandrevecchian. Cormac didn’t know the code and so wasn’t able to read it. If it’d been Lilianna behind those doors, you would all be dead. Except for Elaine. If she’d listened to me that she should run.”
“Well, then perhaps my earlier question stands,” Gird said, pulling a thin, needlelike knife from her blonde up-do. “What are you still doing here?”
“I had to get Elaine home.”
“Stop,” Elaine said. “Yes, she was betraying us, but let’s just wait a minute.”
“Wait for what?” Paric growled.
“It’s fine,” Jole said. “I deserve it.” She looked at Paric. “This isn’t the first time I’ve betrayed you, either.”
He paused. “What are you talking about?”
“Remember when you tried to assassinate her at sea? On the way to the monastery? You had that kid sneak poison into her drink?”
Paric leaned back, squinting at her. “Yes.”
“That was me.”
“Gods,” Gird breathed, still gripping the knife. A slight purplish sheen glinted on it.
Jole continued, and as she talked the tension drained out of her. “And the time with the horses, that was me, too. The time the city of Braetbridge was supposed to rise up and burn down her townhouse with her inside it…” she stared off into space, her turquoise eyes thoughtful.
“The… the time I hired those men to rappel through the—”
“Yeah, that was me, too.”
“That was three hundred years ago.”
“Yep.”
“Who are you?”
“Someone very close to the Mandrevecchian. Only a few on her staff know about me. Maybe twenty. But you were both in a different… category. She kept you segregated from me.”
“She did always like to have those closest to her pitted against one another,” Gird said.
“Clearly it worked for her. Only Coralie ever got through her defenses,” Paric said.
“So, if I am understanding you correctly,” Gird said. “You have been—”
“Leading fake revolutions for four hundred years.”
Paric cocked his head. “Four hundred? So, just around the time Coralie left?”
Jole nodded. “Not long after.”
“And you’ve just had a sudden change of heart? After four hundred years? At exactly the time the Mandrevecchian turns up assassinated?”
“At exactly the time I met someone who made me think the world didn’t have to be the shit place it is.”
“Well, how very nice for you. You’ll forgive us if we don’t feel like trusting you.”
Paric readjusted his grip on his blade and moved forward. Jole didn’t flinch, she seemed resigned to her fate, almost welcoming of it.
“Stop,” Elaine said, standing up and moving between them. “She’s told you everything.”
“I seriously doubt that,” Gird said.
“She’s on our side.”
“She’s a traitor with a death wish,” Paric said. “And I’m happy to oblige.”
“She didn’t have to warn me. She didn’t have to join me in deciding to kill the Mandrevecchian.”
“You weren’t around to see all the people who’ve died because of her. In horrible ways. Friends of ours.”
“She feels bad about it…” Elaine said.
“Does she look like she feels bad about it?” Paric scoffed, moving closer.
“Yes, she does.”
“That right, Jole? You feel bad about all the friends of ours you sent to their deaths?”
“Yes.” Jole said simply. “I’m a coward and a traitor.”
Paric scratched his head. “Gotta be honest with you, I wasn’t expecting that. Still, you kill hundreds of people but damn the consequences because you feel bad about it?”
“I’m fine with consequences,” Jole said.
“I’m not,” Elaine said. “Think about it. She’s on our side now; she knows a lot that we don’t know. My father is trying to impersonate the Mandrevecchian right now.” She swallowed down the anger and hurt that threatened to overwhelm her. “Maybe we’ll need Jole’s information. Maybe there’s more my father doesn’t know. Or… maybe we’ll want to expose hi
m and overthrow him, too.”
Paric considered this. “All right, you have a point there...”
“So, the question is, do we want to support my father?”
“Can’t think of a better person running this place, really,” Paric said, scratching his beard with his sword hilt. Gird gave him a superior look.
“We have not spoken with Coralie for nearly a hundred years, may I remind you. The Coralie who sits in the Mandrevecchian’s palace may not be the Coralie we knew. The Coralie we knew would never have betrayed Lilianna.” Her eyes fell on Elaine. “Or abandoned her daughter.” The well of pain in Elaine’s stomach widened, threatening to spill out. She tightened her fists and took another deep breath.
“She would have if it was the only way to make things better,” Paric said. “Damn idealist. She would have spent two hundred years trying other options, working to make things better despite her, but this place has gone to Yqtos. It’s rotten at the core and she would have come to the same damn conclusion we did.”
“Perhaps. So then the second question is, should anyone sit on the Mandrevecchian’s throne?” Gird paused. “Perhaps, despite her idealism, no matter what she does, things won’t improve substantially.”
“Let’s at least let him try,” Elaine said. “He succeeded in what we were trying to do. A bloodless coup. No one else even knows it happened. Stability is good.”
“Until he’s not the same ruthless, paranoid dictator everyone’s used to. There are plenty of power-hungry people around him who’ll want to take his place,” Jole said. “When I was around, the Mandrevecchian put down a coup a week. He was playing people off each other constantly. You sure this Coralie is up to that?”
“Unlikely,” Paric said.
“But if we help him…” Elaine said slowly. “He did ask me if I would help. Behind the scenes.”
Jole gripped the back of the chair. “I’ve been in that role. Trust me, you don’t want it.”
“Maybe things will be better,” Elaine said. “He’ll listen to us, right?”
Paric shrugged. “The whole reason she left Lilianna was that she wouldn’t listen to her.”
Gird groaned. “Can we please all agree on a single pronoun for the new Mandrevecchian? I’m getting a headache.”
“Sure, fine,” Paric said. “I’m going with she.”
Elaine wasn’t sure how she felt about referring to her father as ‘she’, but it seemed she was out voted. “All right,” she said, to Gird’s obvious relief.
“As I was saying,” Paric said. “Coralie can be pretty opinionated and inflexible. I doubt being supreme ruler is going to lessen that.”
“Let’s at least give her a chance,” Elaine said. And as she said it, she felt her heart realign. She was hurt, and angry, but she could at least try this. They had the same goals, and her father—Coralie—had clearly given up everything to pursue them. Everything including her. She wasn’t going to expose her father purely out of spite. She believed in more than that. She wanted to be better than that. She wanted to see what kind of world her father would make.
“Eh, all right, I guess it can’t hurt,” Paric said. “At least she’ll be easier to overthrow than Lilianna was. Sweet Numenos that girl was tricky.”
“Trust me,” Jole said. “You’re making a mistake. No one sitting on that throne can be trusted and getting out of the shadow of an immortal ruler is a lot harder than you think it will be.”
“No one asked you,” Paric said. “You’re just lucky Elaine won’t let us beat you.” He glanced at Elaine. “I’m assuming that’s off the table?”
“Yes.”
Paric sighed.
79
Elaine
A few days passed, during which Elaine alternated between periods of restlessness where she walked the now-familiar streets of Kreiss, and periods of despondency where she lay curled in her bed, thinking about everything she had been through the last four years. Jole brought her food and occasionally kept her company, but they didn’t talk much.
One afternoon, a polite tapping on her door interrupted her confused thoughts. Elaine pulled herself out of bed, attempted to smooth her hair, which had pulled out of its braids, and opened the door a crack. Gird stood there holding a tray and carrying a bag over one shoulder.
“May I come in?”
“Oh, sure, Gird, of course.”
The thin, elegant woman with her perfect posture moved into the room, set the tea things on a side table, placed the bag on the floor next to it, and stood, clasping her hands in front of her.
“I have worked for Lilianna a long time.” She paused. “I suppose I should say I worked for her a long time.”
“It must be hard for you that she’s gone.”
Gird considered this. “In some ways. Would you care for… a cup of tea?”
“Oh, yes, thank you.” Gird looked like she still had something to say. “Would you like to join me?”
“Yes, thank you,” the woman said, her back turned as she poured a measure of tea into the two cups.
They sat, Gird on the chair by the window, Elaine on the trunk at the foot of the bed.
“Is there something bothering you?” Elaine asked at last.
Gird absently stirred her tea with a tiny spoon. She tapped it gently on the rim of the cup and placed it on the saucer.
“Yes. Thank you for asking. You see, twice in my life I have… failed those I cared for. In both cases I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was helping them. But, ultimately, I made the wrong choice. When Lilianna was first… crowned… she was very afraid. She was ready to give up. I… helped her. At the time, it seemed to go exactly as I had wished it would. She rose to the challenge, became the leader I thought she could be.” Gird stared down into her tea. “I thought I had finally done it, finally succeeded in helping someone I cared for overcome what they were struggling with.” She looked up. “Over time, though, I have begun to question my interpretation of those events. Because, while, yes, Lilianna did rise to the occasion, she also became more and more ruthless, struggling to hold on to what she had achieved, always afraid she wasn’t enough. Over the years, I began to think that instead I should have come to her and told her she didn’t have to do all that.” Gird’s throat bobbed as she swallowed a gulp of tea. “I wish that, instead, I had come to her and offered her a choice. A way out, rather than pushing her into what I thought she should do.”
“It sounds like you helped her a lot.”
“Perhaps. However.” She looked up, setting her tea aside and crossing one leg over the other. “I know you care deeply for your father. And for this country. And for every single person you come across.”
Elaine took a sip of tea, shrugging one shoulder non-commitally.
“No, I know that to be true. However. It is not your responsibility to fix everything. You can of course choose to try, if you wish. But. Should you not wish, I have taken the liberty of packing this suitcase for you.” She indicated the bag on the floor next to her feet. “In it you will find three hundred silvers, a week’s worth of food, several changes of clothes, and several suggested cities where I think you might find work, including some connections of mine who will aid you.”
Elaine sat back, lowering her teacup to her knees. She tried to think of what to say.
Gird watched her sadly. “If there is anything else I can do to help, I will. Whatever you choose, I will support.”
A lump formed in Elaine’s throat. “Thank you,” she managed to say at last.
Gird nodded, then stood, brushing her skirt smooth and collecting the tea tray. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”
When she had left, Elaine sat, holding her tea and contemplating the bag on the floor. It would be easier. And… Gird was right… none of this was her responsibility. At the very least, though, she would stay for the Krull, to see what her father had planned.
Finally, the day of the Krull came, and the four of them returned to the palace, this time as
invited guests. Paric was still there in his official capacity as captain of the guards.
They were the only ones who knew they had been invited by a usurper. They were searched carefully for weapons and then ushered into a large, golden hall. Rows of red seats looked down, amphitheater style, on a central stage with a golden podium. A marble block sat behind it: a stepstool for the child sized Mandrevecchian.
There was a lot of excited talk echoing throughout the large room. Elaine listened as she looked up at the frescoed ceiling. There above her was Onera, goddess of the wind, and golden Numenos, and Ava goddess of fortune, and Eclelia, a simple, laughing girl in green. She wondered what the gods thought of all this, if they truly had abandoned Mimros as some believed.
The room filled and a soldier came out, lifting his hands to the crowd, which quieted immediately. An expectant hush settled as the Mandrevecchian was announced, and out came the small boy, elegantly dressed. Her father, she thought strangely. But also Coralie. So many lifetimes that Elaine hadn’t known a thing about.
He addressed the crowd, his voice strong. Even those in the back rows could hear him as he spoke about new measures to help the clanless, to clear out the slums, to increase education. And new incentives for clan leaders who improved conditions for all their people. He hinted at a new secret police force: people who would be travelling throughout Mimros and evaluating the efforts to eradicate poverty. Those who did well would be given immortality, or more wealth and privilege if they already had it. Those who didn’t would lose their immortality, and likely join the ranks of the unfortunate when they died.
Next to her, Jole shifted in her seat. Elaine glanced at her, saw the grim set of her jawline. Suddenly, Jole gripped the edges of her chair and stood. Without looking at Elaine or Gird or Paric, she pushed her way down the row and out into the aisle. At first only the people she shoved past noticed, but as they made noises of annoyance the commotion began to draw the attention of the rest of the crowd. The Mandrevecchian stopped and stared at the red-haired, heavily tattooed girl looking down on him.
Death of the Immortal King Page 39
