Bookworm III (20 page)

Idiots
, she thought, savagely. It was a weakness, she told herself, a flaw in their armour someone could exploit. But the oaths she’d sworn ensured
she
could never exploit the weakness for herself. Someone else would have to deduce its existence and use it for themselves.
And all the while, I’m trapped here like a fool
.

She paced the room restlessly, checking out the bathroom – it would have been spectacular, to a ten-year-old girl – and the tiny cabinet crammed with food. There were layers of protective spells everywhere, designed to ensure a safe environment for a child. Charity was sure that if she tried to drown herself in the baths, the spells would sound the alarm and prevent her from dying. A child, of course, might be drowned by accident. But the spells seemed to be designed to ensure the child’s safety without actually requiring anyone to interact with the poor child.

I think she would have been lonely
, Charity thought, wondering just who the child had been, before she’d presumably grown up. To the best of her knowledge, none of the Grand Sorcerers of recent times had had children. But if they’d had a child that they’d wanted to keep hidden, they could hardly have done better than craft the room for the child and leave her there.
I wonder if Johan felt the same way
.

She shuddered as she inspected the knives and forks. It was a dining set, like the one she’d been given when her mother had deemed her old enough to start practicing for the day she would have to host dinners, but everything was enchanted. A knife wouldn’t cut living flesh, the spells blunting it beyond use every time the child might have cut herself. The forks too were charmed, as if the child had been at risk of stabbing herself in the eye. Charity had grown up in a Great House and yet she had been exposed to more risk, largely thanks to her brother. What manner of child had grown up in these rooms?

A small cupboard revealed a cradle, a bassinet and a pram, all locked and warded against human contact. Charity shook her head, then closed the door and walked back to the bed, turning the mystery over and over in her head. It provided a distraction, at least, from her worries about what was going on outside. She sat down and tried to meditate, knowing she would not be able to go back to sleep. It was nearly an hour before the door opened, revealing a grey-haired Inquisitor. She couldn’t help the flash of guilt that rushed through her mind, remembering the last time she had met an Inquisitor. He had had some very sharp things to say about how she’d treated her Powerless brother.

“My Lady,” the Inquisitor said. He was oddly familiar, although she couldn’t place him. “You will accompany me.”

Charity nodded, then stood and allowed the older man to lead her out of the room and down the long corridor. Hundreds of soldiers ran everywhere, carrying weapons and looking alert ... although, if they had been alert, perhaps there wouldn’t have been a security breach in the first place. Behind them, a number of men in red robes paced from place to place, waving wands in the air and chanting loudly. They were sorcerers, Charity could tell, but they didn’t seem to have been trained at the Peerless School. But they shouldn’t have been trained anywhere else.

She puzzled over it as she followed the Inquisitor around a corner ... and stopped dead. The walls were blackened and burnt, although the Imperial Palace would hardly be without the standard fire-prevention charms. A handful of charred bodies lay on the ground ... she took a breath in shock, then gagged at the stench. Burning humans smelt like pork ... Heaving, she turned to one side and retched, silently grateful that she hadn’t eaten anything before she went to bed. It would have come out of her ...

The Inquisitor waited for her to finish retching, then picked his way through the scene and down towards a hole in the stone wall. Charity followed, breathing through her mouth, and saw the Emperor standing there, beside a pair of Inquisitors and a red-robed man. The Emperor looked furious, yet calculating. Her father had often shown the same expression, when he’d been preparing for a counterstroke against his enemies. The results had not been pleasant for his victims.

A man popped out of the hatch and prostrated himself in front of the Emperor. “Your Majesty,” he said, as he rubbed his head against the ground, “the building is sealed. We cannot break into the Great Library.”

“I see,” the Emperor said. His voice was very cold. “Summon all the wardcrafters you can find in the city and assemble them in the Peerless School. They will have the task of breaking down the wards from the outside.”

The man looked surprised at not having been ordered to attend his own execution. “Your Majesty,” he said, “those wards are some of the strongest in the Empire.”

“I imagine they are,” the Emperor said. “But any ward can be broken.”

He turned to look at Charity, then the grey-haired Inquisitor. “Follow me.”

Charity hastened to obey, trailing behind the two men as they walked back up the corridor and into one of the conference rooms. Light Spinner might have ruled the Empire, her father had remarked more than once, but it was the bureaucracy that made it work, the hordes of men and women who did the actual paperwork. He’d noted that it was surprisingly easy to subvert the clerks, even if they
had
sworn oaths of loyalty. With the proper incentive, a bureaucrat would sell his mother for a handful of bronze coins.

“The wards should not have been broken,” the Emperor hissed. “No normal magician could have broken them. Nor could one have killed a dozen soldiers on the streets.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the Inquisitor said.

“But there was one magician who
could
,” the Emperor added, turning to face Charity. “Is your brother alive?”

“I was told he was dead,” Charity said, truthfully. After the ... incident at House Conidian, Johan had been declared dead. It was why the headship had fallen to Charity. “Lady Light Spinner herself told me he was dead.”

The Emperor glared at her. “And you believe everything you are told?”

He turned back to the Inquisitor before Charity could muster a response. “Dread, do you know if Johan Conidian is alive or dead?”

“I was informed he was dead,” the Inquisitor said, stiffly.

Charity studied him for a long moment. Her father had been good at hiding his feelings, but Dread was in a class of his own. His face was stony, betraying no hint of any feelings at all, while his body was perfectly relaxed. In a way, she decided, he was attractive, even though he would never be considered handsome.

“But someone broke through the wards in a very strange manner,” the Emperor said. “Do you think he may still be alive?”

“I have no proof of his continued survival,” the Inquisitor said. “I was informed that he was dead.”

But the Head Librarian could have lied
, Charity thought.
And Dread could only tell what he believes to be the truth
.

She looked at the Emperor. “Why not ask the Head Librarian?”

“The bitch has made her escape,” the Emperor hissed, angrily. “She has fled the room, after leaving one of my servants tainted with her curse.”

Charity blinked. “Tainted with her curse?”

“She passed the compulsion spell to him,” the Emperor said. “I would not have believed it possible.”

He swung back to face Dread. “Did
you
know it was possible?”

“No one has been able to hold out for more than an hour before,” Dread said. His voice was still stiff, but Charity thought she detected a hint of amusement in his tone. “The long-term effects of fighting such a spell for so long have never been studied.”

“Then it
will
be studied,” the Emperor snarled. “Round up a few test subjects from the Watchtower and cast the spell on them.”

“As you command, Your Majesty,” Dread said.

He turned and marched out of the room, leaving Charity alone with the Emperor. She found herself watching the retreating back wistfully, even though she knew Dread couldn’t have protected her if the Emperor had decided to take his anger out on her. Her father never had, but then her father hadn’t been spited so badly until Johan had developed his powers. And there had just been too many other problems for him to focus on his oldest daughter.

And if he had paid more attention to me
, Charity thought,
Jamal’s problems would only have got worse
.

“The Head Librarian has fled back to her library,” the Emperor observed. Surprisingly, he seemed calmer now that Dread had left the room. “And she has barricaded herself behind the wards. But she is also caught like a rat in a trap.”

Charity shuddered. The Great Library had powerful wards, but the Emperor’s forces could surround the building and wait for the fugitives to starve to death. She had no idea how much food and drink was stored within the building, yet she doubted they could hold out for more than a few days. The librarians had always reacted badly to
anyone
who brought food into the building. They wouldn’t store more than the bare necessities themselves ...

But they were preparing for the Conference
, she thought, glumly.
They might have stockpiled enough for a hundred guests
.

There was a tap on the door. A tall man, wearing yet another red uniform – this one covered in gold braid and a handful of medals – bowed to her, then prostrated himself in front of the Emperor. Charity stepped backwards, wondering just why the Emperor encouraged such submission. Even the Grand Sorceress had never demanded that people prostrate themselves in front of her, unless they were slaves. But slaves prostrated themselves in front of everyone.

“Your Majesty,” the man said. He sat upright, but remained on his knees. “I have surrounded the Great Library with troops and combat sorcerers. They will be unable to make a move without being caught.”

Unless there’s another secret passageway
, Charity thought. She kept that insight to herself.
There might be another way out
.

“Just like a woman,” the Emperor sneered. He aimed his words at Charity. “She has run to a place she considers safe, without any idea of how to escape afterwards.”

“She has managed to save herself, for the moment,” Charity pointed out, stung. “And it will take weeks to bring down the wards.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the Emperor said. “She cannot escape, so all we have to do is wait for her to die, or the wards to fall, whichever comes first.”

Charity said nothing. She had the horrible feeling that he was right.

But the Great Library is full of knowledge
, she thought, slowly.
There might be a spell in there the Head Librarian can use to escape
.

The Emperor kept speaking, addressing his subordinate. “You will take command of the troops personally, General Vetch,” he said. “I will not tolerate failure.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” General Vetch said. He prostrated himself once again, then rose to his feet and backed out of the room. “I will not fail you.”

Charity frowned after him, then looked at the Emperor. “Why do they all prostrate themselves in front of you?”

The Emperor smirked. “It is good that you’re asking such questions,” he said. “It shows you are learning your place in the new order.”

And that I want you bragging instead of thinking
, Charity thought.

“Our society is based on the strong ruling over the weak,” the Emperor said. “It is a strong man who can protect his women and his servants, while a weak man will lose his wives and daughters to the strong. A strong man thus demands respect from the weaker men surrounding him, or they will start to think of themselves as his equals and consider how best to overthrow him. Prostrating themselves in front of me helps to keep them humble.”

He leered at her. “Not that I need that with you, my pretty.”

Charity flushed, darkly. The Emperor hadn’t
hurt
her, or forced himself on her, but he seemed to take an unholy delight in constantly reminding her that she had submitted herself to him. Perhaps it was that which had saved her from warming his bed, she considered, although she knew she didn’t dare ask out loud. Her submission marked her as weak and, as such, useless to bear the strong children he wanted.

But if they’re breeding their women into helpless docility
, she asked herself,
what is that doing to the male children
?

Magicians could determine the sex of their children, but – apart from the firstborn child – rarely bothered to make sure they had a male or female child. Mundanes preferred male children, yet could rarely afford the potions to ensure they birthed a boy. There was no real difference between male and female when it came to magic and a daughter could be just as useful as a son. And yet ... she had the feeling that the Emperor’s homeland had been specifically selecting male children, at least among magicians.

“A true man is constantly rebellious, constantly looking for a way to turn the tables on anyone who holds him down,” the Emperor added, breaking into her thoughts. “I have to watch my subordinates carefully, knowing that one of them will eventually try to put a knife in my back.”

“You don’t seem too worried about the possibility,” Charity observed.

“If I am overthrown and killed,” the Emperor said, “I will be replaced by someone stronger, because he was able to kill me. The prize, as always, goes to the strong.”

Charity shuddered. “Your son might kill you,” she said. “Or even a random slave.”

“I killed my father,” the Emperor said, almost casually. “Did your brother never consider killing
your
father?”

“I do not know,” Charity said. “I hope not.”

She scowled at the thought. Jamal ... Jamal
might
well have considered killing his father, but the Inquisitors would definitely have investigated. If caught and convicted, Jamal would have been executed, rather than been allowed to assume the headship. And Johan ... Johan
had
rendered both his father and Jamal powerless. Had he wanted to subject his tormentors to a fate worse than death?

But father could cow Jamal
, Charity reminded herself.
He only did it once or twice, but he could.