Back From Chaos (13 page)

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When Sinnath requested to see her in the middle of the night, his choice of time gave her clues to his attitude. Messalia was no fool. She had not reached her position of prominence by luck. Before agreeing to see Sinnath, Messalia had quietly inquired how other persons of influence leaned. She found there was no agreement among them. Most were taking a wait-and-see attitude. Messalia knew she must tread very carefully if she wished use this meeting to her own benefit. One false step, anything that would implicate her, could topple her little empire, and she might find her head in a basket.

Messalia never took any detail for granted. She had located her large, well-appointed home just behind those of the most prominent and influential. Not beside, for that would lead her betters to believe she aspired to equal status. No, Messalia knew her place, and kept to it.

Her attire made the same statement. She dressed herself just as richly as the elite, but kept it ever so slightly understated, showing a preference for darker colours so as not to compete with the more richly hued court ladies. A woman in her late thirties, rather tall, with a slim yet mature figure, she carried herself with cool dignity. She kept her jewels and hairstyles similarly rich, yet understated. Everything was of the finest quality, but kept just shy of ostentation.

No one could say that she overstepped her position, yet her actual influence far outweighed that of her more highly placed neighbours. She knew not to draw too much attention to herself. Someone might notice just how far her reach extended. If her clients began to complain that she was rising too high, the advisory council might take too close an interest in her.

Messalia owned a walled stone house with a large double entrance at the front and two smaller ones at the back and side. These last remained hidden to all but those who had been made privy to their location. It was by one of these that she personally admitted Sinnath and led him through a private hall to a small, windowless chamber.

“
Welcome, Sinnath. My servant woman still sleeps. She does make better tea, but I sense that you prefer our meeting remain confidential.” She smiled as she closed the door.

“
Thank you, Messalia. You have indeed anticipated me.”

Her wealthiest visitors were afforded the utmost privacy. Many secrets had been revealed within these walls, never to leave the room. Many had sought Messalia’s advice. Until now Sinnath had not been one of them. Indeed, Messalia had been somewhat surprised by his request to consult her, so she had taken extra care to get her facts in order. She smelled high intrigue.

She followed Sinnath silently into the room and, indicating a comfortable carved chair for him, set about pouring tea. He had worn dark clothing and kept his face covered by a wide-brimmed hat and high collar. He entered furtively and did not raise his head until the door closed.

Interesting, a man with a guilty conscience … hmmm … Messalia observed Sinnath covertly as she poured. Rigid posture, on the edge of the seat, hands twisting, eyes darting about as though waiting to be discovered. She made sure Sinnath remained unaware of her appraisal.

“
We are quite safe here, Sinnath. No one will know you have come. I am proud of my record of privacy.”

Sinnath relaxed somewhat at this announcement and exhaled the breath he had been holding. He took the tea she handed him and with shaking hands added milk and sugar, which he stirred with absent-minded vigour.

“
Won’t you try one of these pastries? They are excellent. My cook is very good.”

Sinnath shook his head. “Thank you, Messalia. Perhaps later.”

Messalia set the tray back on the small, ornate table and sat opposite him in a matching chair. A small fire burned in the hearth. This inner room never quite lost its chill.

When Sinnath made no move to speak and did not meet her eyes, Messalia took the lead. This might require all her skill. She must get him to betray his real need without seeming to press him, so she started with the obvious.

“
There are many changes facing Bargia of late. I do not see any difficulties in your family that would bring you to me, so I must assume it is these changes that have prompted you to seek me out.” She observed him through the steam over her teacup as she waited.

Sinnath cleared his throat, glanced at her and lowered his eyes again. “Yes.” He groped for words. “Bargia has succeeded thus far, I believe, in large part due to the traditions we have honoured. Circumstances have brought these traditions into serious peril. I need to know whether the breaking of them will lead to the downfall of the demesne and of the ruling house.” He let out his breath again and leaned back into the chair, apparently relieved.

“
I see. Do you merely wish to know the future? Or are you asking if different paths may lead to different outcomes? You must ask specific questions before I consult Earth. Only one question at a time, but I will need them all before I start. A misleading line of questions will lead to confusing answers.”

Messalia waited again, observing Sinnath closely. He knotted his hands again and cleared his throat twice more before continuing. Messalia smiled inwardly. It amused her to see powerful men squirm. They took their power for granted, while she had had to work so hard for hers. So many came to her as Sinnath did now, unknown to each other, but all known to her. If they even guessed at the webs she wove with the knowledge they inadvertently supplied, they would see to it that she met a swift end.

Messalia let Sinnath lead where he wanted to go. She could see no personal stake in the outcome. Her position was secure. But she enjoyed intrigue, and it amused her to see where men’s minds led them. This new twist might prove very interesting.

As always, she made sure that her predictions could not be held to close scrutiny.

~ 23 ~

TREASON

In the end, Sinnath left Messalia’s house no more confident, However, he had become even more entrenched in his line of thinking. There are times when the way someone speaks about a thing affects the way others receive it. Sinnath could not hide his misgivings about Gaelen’s decision to join with Marja. His opinion carried considerable weight. So the responses he received to his inquiries tended to support what he wanted to hear, both from Messalia and from others.

The more Sinnath tried to get a sense of the mood of the people of Bargia, the surer he became that Gaelen had erred gravely in joining with Marja. And the more confident he became, the more his bias showed. It became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Sinnath reached the painful conclusion that Marja must be removed. He crossed the line.

Even before his meeting with Messalia, Sinnath had secretly contacted a man, who knew a man, who could be counted on to do certain things for a fee. Sinnath’s plan required speed and must be carried out before Gaelen returned to Bargia. Sinnath had arrangements to meet with this Rellin that very morning, before first light. Until now, Sinnath had left himself the option of backing out. This meeting would commit him to his course of action.

Instead of going home to his wife, Sinnath made another visit, still under cover of darkness. After he left Messalia, he sent a street urchin with a message to Rellin to confirm their meeting. Then, keeping to the shadows, he made his way to a small but well-kept stone house in the merchants quarter, discreetly set back among similar ones. Its outer wall had a narrow iron gate. A small private courtyard garden sat in the back.

This was Sinnath’s home away from home, where he kept his mistress, Kerissa, along with their seven-year-old son. In return for a comfortable life, support and tutelage for their son, she played hostess to Sinnath’s night time visitors and kept quiet about what took place there. Until now, Sinnath had given her no reasons to worry about these clandestine meetings. They had served Bargia and its ruling family loyally. Tonight would be different.

“
I expect company this night. Get dressed,” Sinnath told her when she came to the door. “He goes by Rellin. Show him into my meeting room as soon as he arrives. Leave the lamp covered when you answer the door. He wishes to remain unknown.” When he saw the worried question in her eyes he told her, “There is nothing to fear.”

When she showed Rellin in, Sinnath had Kerissa bring wine, cold fowl, bread and sweets, then told her to go to bed as he would not need her again.

“
I will see the man out,” Sinnath told her. He had noticed Rellin leering at Kerrissa and her look of fear as she hurried out of the room. Sinnath heard her check in on their son, Merist, on her way to bed.

Rellin left about a half span later. Once he had disappeared, Sinnath waited a few moments and slipped out himself unnoticed.

He had given Rellin a small sack of coin and hoped, not for the first time, that he had not made a grave mistake. Rellin had placed the sack in his breeches and grinned knowingly at Sinnath as he made it jingle. Sinnath also could not forget the leer on Rellin’s face when Kerrissa had shown him in and how he licked his lips when she had hurried out of the room. He would have to see to it that further meetings took place away from this house.

~ 24 ~

THE CITY

Marja’s heart ached as she toured the city with Brensa and Nellis. The fires had left so much damage. The two oily black spots on the cobblestones where the pyres had burned made her shudder with revulsion, but she forced herself to take it all in.

Yet, pride buoyed her spirits at the way her people had rallied, making the best of things. She saw repairs underway all over the city. Businesses offered their wares, even while roofs and windows underwent repairs. Her people showed determination and purpose. Their spirit had not been defeated, even if their lord had been.

Everywhere, citizens greeted Marja with deference, pleasure and pride. They extended the optimism generated by Gaelen’s amnesty to her new status as lady. Most spoke to her of new beginnings rather than of anger or loss. Marja could see them brighten when she showed them she had the freedom to speak with them. She hoped her words and presence reassured them.

“
Lady, are you well?”

“
You see, we have reopened the shop. We have bread again.”

“
He has truly joined with you?”

The last was impertinent, and the guards made to interrupt, but Marja stopped them with a gesture and answered, “He has, indeed. I am again your lady. I have faith he may be trusted. You may tell the people that for me.”

At her last words she saw the guards relax. Perhaps they could finally grasp that she, too, could be trusted. She hoped they would spread the word to the other Bargians. It might help them accept a Catanian lady.

“
That is good, my lady.” The concern in the man’s face gave way to relief, which she saw mirrored in the faces of the others who had stopped their work to gather around her.

Her guards had difficulty staying near enough to protect her. People pressed close to speak with her, and many wished to touch her. Marja did not miss the fact that Klast hovered near in his “I am not here” guise. She could tell that he knew she was aware of him, from the tiny nod of recognition he had given her. What an insufferable man. How could Gaelen show such complete trust in him? She must challenge him again on that when she got the chance.

~ 25 ~

GOOD-BYES

Two mornings later, the party, carefully chosen by Gaelen and Argost, left for Bargia. Argost, of course, stayed behind to govern Catania. For the present, the demesne appeared stable and recovering. The bulk of the armed men remained behind with Argost. In two eightdays’ time, if things continued according to plan, two more companies would follow Gaelen home to Bargia.

Marja mounted her mare in front of the stables across from the castle and took a last look at her home, willing the images into her memory. Earth only knew when she would see it again. The square had been cleared of debris, and only the two scorched circles, one for each people, still bore mute witness to the pyres that had turned so many to ashes and bones. Eventually, the rains would erase even this reminder.

Repairs had proceeded apace, and the other reminders of the battle had dwindled. Most homes and shops bore at least temporary roofs. Windows either gleamed with new glass or were covered with oiled leather that could be lifted to admit more daylight. Most shops had reopened, with the exception of a few too badly damaged or whose owners had been killed. Business as usual seemed the order of the day, albeit somewhat subdued. Small groups of soldiers patrolled the streets, but the people ignored them, seemingly by tacit agreement. The air no longer held the aura of fear or suspicion.

Marja’s eyes lingered on a large two-level building nestled between the stables and the castle that had mercifully escaped major damage. It housed many of the stable hands, gardeners and their families, most of whom had returned. Nellis had told her that Argost had found two small rooms there for her and Mikost, as their previous ones still remained uninhabitable. Though she would miss Nellis sorely, Marja felt grateful that she and Mikost would live among friends, and that Nellis would receive the care she needed. Nellis was very near her time now and needed a place to prepare for the child. Marja had bid her a tearful farewell earlier. Nellis had declined to see her off, saying she could not bear it. Marja had fought back her own tears watching Brensa weep quietly as she took her final leave from Nellis.