Covenants (59 page)

The room was as decadent in rich wood as was the one I shared with Groskin and Jeff. Groskin followed us carrying the wine decanter and goblets. He placed them on the table as we sat down, and turned to leave.

"Stay, Lieutenant," Suiden said, indicating the doorway, and Groskin stationed himself on one side, the leopard haunt moving to the other.

"Have you ever been told, Your Highness, the history of the People?" Wyln asked as he poured wine into a goblet.

"I know that Iversterre was once Borderland and that there are those who want it back," Suiden said.

"'Want it back'?" Wyln set the decanter down with a snap as he looked at Suiden, the fire in the fireplace echoed in his eyes. "It was my home, Your Highness, not something I lost out of my pocket. What is now Iversly was Morendyll, the jewel of the sea, and Loran the Fyrst ruled there as High Elf King. There are mosaics Molyu, my sister and his wife, placed into the walls of the palace with her own hands. Gardens, walks and arbors that she and my other sister designed and planted. My own wife was born and grew to adulthood there, as lovely as a sunlit rose, and there I married her." The flames in his eyes danced over the rim of his goblet as he took a sip of wine. "Ask me where my wife is now, honored prince. Ask me about my children."

No one said anything.

The Enchanter lowered his cup and gave his gentle smile. "I understand that the Royal Garrison stables sit on top of the pit where their bodies were thrown, with the other muck and trash."

Again, no one spoke.

"You say that the human does not trust me," Wyln said. "That he will not turn his back on me, with his sixty-four lines to the House of Iver. Iver who drove me from my home, who killed my family, whose vicars proclaimed their murder a purging of the land given to them by their God." The Enchanter shrugged. "Well, perhaps Two Trees'son is wise to be careful.” The wind gusted hard, once more rattling windows. Remembering what Jusson had told me he'd seen when I touched him, I traced my reflection in the polished wood with my finger, desperately hoping that I did not look like my distant ancestor.

"Do not worry, Two Trees'son. You don't," Wyln said, his voice light as he took another sip of wine.

"Have we been fools to come, Lord Enchanter?" Javes asked after a moment.

'The honored Faena doesn't think so, do you, Laurel?" Wyln asked, turning to the cat.

"You can lower the bucket all you want, Wyln, but that well is dry," Laurel rumbled. "I refuse to quarrel with you." He looked at Javes. "I've been accused of playing fast and loose with my promises, honored captain, but I've made just one covenant and one oath, and so far I've kept both.”

"When this High Council meets," Esclaur said, frowning at Laurel, "you may very well find your vows null and void.”

"I have never promised peace," Laurel said. "Not to any of you, not to your king. However, I have sworn to keep Rabbit from the Magus, and so I will.”

"And I have sworn to his fosterage," Wyln said as he prepared to rise, "no matter Two Trees'son's antecedents.”

"Why?" Suiden asked, returning to his earlier question.

Wyln settled back into his chair, exasperation crossing his face. "Why what?”

"If Rabbit's forefather killed your family and destroyed your home, if humans caused you such anguish, if you hate us so much, why have you taken Rabbit as Cyhn?"

Wyln sighed. "You are worse than a young one with your plague of 'why's.”

Suiden said nothing as he stared back and Wyln looked down into his wine goblet, a line between his brows. The Enchanter then shrugged, and finishing his wine, he lowered his goblet. But instead of looking at the captain, he turned his head to me, his eyes intense.

"There is a theory that human talent arises out of some strange alchemy of elf and human. That those mage-born have a touch of elfin blood—and the stronger the talent, the stronger the blood."

I found myself staring back at the Enchanter.

"Are you saying that Rabbit is part elf?" Suiden asked, he and Laurel the only ones whose eyes weren't stretched wide open.

"His Grace alluded to it at dinner your first night here, as you negotiated for Cyhn, Your Highness." Wyln leaned forward and, reaching across the table, took my chin in his hand with a surprisingly gentle touch. I was startled into meeting his eyes but the Enchanter was more interested in examining my features than enthralling me. "Sixty-four degrees to an elfin king, a king to whom His Grace may be related. To whom
I
may be related—”

Wyln broke off as we became aware of a disturbance outside the common room, moving towards us. He dropped his hand and we all shifted to face the doorway just as the curtain parted and Harbormaster Lin stepped into the room. Her wings, which had been pressed together as she moved through the doorway, spread out behind her. Eyeing the butterflies resting in her hair and on her shoulders, I realized that Lord Commander Thadro's question of who'd want to be a butterfly had just been answered: faeries.

Two butterflies took off and headed my direction as Wyln sighed again. "This is becoming a habit, Harbormaster. Why aren't you out looking for the escaped vicar?”

"Because we found Commander Pellan first, honored Enchanter," Lin said. "Or rather, he and his City Watch have found my wardens and your guards. I just managed to escape."

"What?" Wyln asked, frowning.

"A quorum of the High Council is assembled, and they've ordered His Grace the Fyrst held—"

Wyln stood up, knocking his chair over.

"—to answer charges of sheltering one human accused of the rape and murder of a fae—"

Groskin gasped and jerked as if he'd been hit.

"—of taking as Cyhn another human accused of practicing dark arts—”

"What?" I whispered as the wind rose to a shriek, banging on the windows.

"—of offering Hospitality to those who are guilty of running and slavery—"

"Why should we be left out?" Javes murmured.

"—all the while being aided and abetted by Laurel of the Black Hills clan, who not only has failed in his duty to the Council, but has turned reprobate, violating his Faena oaths." The harbormaster turned her head to watch as the butterflies landed on my shoulder, their weight connecting me to the earth. She then raised her violet eyes to mine. "The Council has sent Commander Pellan for all of you. He should be here any moment.”

"Commander Pellan is coming to take us into custody?" Captain Suiden asked, as we quickly moved from the sleeping chamber to the outer room. Wyln looked at the faerie with flame-filled eyes.

"Yes, Your Highness," Lin said, watching the haunts surround me. "He was the one who delivered the Fyrst to the Council. As Laurel Faena has discovered, trust is a potent weapon." She didn't wait for a response, but nodded at the butterflies resting on my shoulder. 'Two of my sisters, son of Lark and Two Trees. They followed the Magus' messenger bird and so found you in the Royal City.”

"Why?" I managed to get out, still working on Pellan's betrayal of his Fyrst.

The fae's wings rippled with her shrug. "Dragoness Moraina isn't the only one who can do farseeing, and we were both curious and wanted to make up our own minds.”

"Curious about what—" Javes broke off as the common room doors opened and Commander Pellan walked in. He stopped short when he saw us facing him, unsurprised at his appearance. Captains Suiden and Javes shifted to stand in front of us and were joined by the Enchanter, while Laurel and Groskin moved to my side.

"What are you doing here, nephew?" Wyln asked, his face calm but his eyes still ablaze.

Commander Pellan lifted a hand and several elves from the City Watch came through the open doors. He pulled a pouch from his belt, his face expressionless. "You all have been summoned to the High Council—”

"Before their appointed time," Laurel said, his tail lashing. "Without all the Council members."

"A special session has been convened—" Pellan began.

"Oh," Esclaur said. "I know all about those. Done in secret with no witnesses—I mean audience.”

"—to address accusations of murder, slavery, the practicing of dark arts, and other charges," Pellan finished.

"Did you truly deliver His Grace over to them, Pellan?" Wyln asked, sounding as if he really wanted to know. The two castle guards joined him.

Pellan met his uncle's gaze for the first time since entering the room. "What else could I do? It's by the Council's orders.”

"I see," Wyln said. "So you, who are the Fyrst's kin, felt no compunction in betraying him, while Harbormaster Lin, who isn't even of the same race, held true to her oaths.”

Reminded of the diminutive faerie, I started to look around for her, but was distracted by the wind howling and slamming against the windows. I turned my head to them and the windows shook harder, the latches rattling, and I frowned.

"You think I betrayed my oaths?" The commander gave me a cold look, and the haunts pressed closer until they were a dense ring about me. "The Fyrst made a human Cyhn, a descendant of the same one who murdered our families and stole our birthrights. Do you remember, my mother's brother? The flames and soldiers and anguished cries as our blood was spilled? How no mercy was shown and even the smallest was slain?”

"Pellan was a child when we left Morendyll," Wyln said to the rest of us, "but he remembers our leaving very well— and the fact that his parents did not.”

Pellan indicated the Watch standing behind him. "Not just my parents," he said, "but their mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, uncle. Just as your wife and children. Even the Fyrst's daughter. His only child killed, and yet he takes a son of Iver Bloody-Hand into his household.”

Wyln smiled at the commander. 'Tell me, did you ask His Grace why he'd done what he had?”

"I didn't need to," Pellan said. "I heard the Faena— cousin to a human king he says looks elfin." He shrugged. "Her Grace Molyu is unable to bear more children, or perhaps the lack is with His Grace himself. So he seeks to continue his line with human filth." He indicated the Watch again. "You can see that the city is not too happy about it.”

"So they'll be happy with you, kin-betrayer, as their new Fyrst?" Wyln asked.

Pellan gave the same gentle smile as his uncle. "Those who matter." He gave a signal and the Watch surrounded us, two going into the doyen's chamber. "You are summoned to stand before the Council,"

Pellan said once more.

The city guards returned to the common room, pushing the doyen before them.

"My lords, what's happening—" Doyen Allwyn broke off as a guard shoved him hard between his shoulders, causing the doyen to stumble against the table. He muffled a cry as one of the chairs caught him in the ribs.

"Any resistance will be severely dealt with," Pellan said.

Doyen Allwyn started to straighten but the second guard knocked him down on his hands and knees.

The guard drew back his booted foot to kick him.

Hearing scabbards rattling, I glanced over my shoulder to see Javes, Esclaur and Suiden all holding their swords as they advanced on the Watch. Groskin stood with a knife in each hand. "Come on, boyo,"

Groskin murmured to the city guard facing him. "Please.”

I pulled my own sword but the city guards paid no attention to me. The windows rattled again in a gust of wind, and I turned completely to face them, taking a couple of steps in their direction.

Laurel stalked over to the doyen, his rumbling growl echoing in my bones, while Wyln, bracketed by the two castle guards, moved towards Commander Pellan, his long fingers tracing fire in the air. "This will cease now—”

"Yes, it will," Pellan agreed, opening the pouch he'd been holding, and a glowing corpse green sphere with angry red and dull black streaks floated out. As it rose in the air, the haunts piled up behind Honor Ash and, ghostly eyes wide, they moved back—way back. Wyln skidded to a stop, all color draining from his face, while Laurel's growl stopped as if someone had shut a spigot.

The windows rattled once again and, still holding my sword, I slipped past city guards and haunts, and went around the embassy staff huddled together in front of the fireplace, all watching Pellan.

"My sister's son, her only child, what have you given yourself to?" the Enchanter whispered.

I reached the window and the wind gusted against the panes, the latch shaking. I lifted my hand.

"I wouldn't, human mageling," Commander Pellan said, and I spun around to find the sphere hanging in my face. I flinched back, the back of my head striking the fireplace mantel. "It's a slow, painful way to die.”

"Sorcery," I said, not bothering to rub the lump on my head as I glared past the slowly spinning abomination at the commander.

Pellan shrugged again. "You shouldn't have been so strong in your aspect." He glanced at the rattling windows. "Even now the wind screams its frustration because it can't get to you.”

"The Council," Laurel said, looking at the sphere. His paw came up in an automatic warding gesture, the rune bright. "They've blocked Rabbit."

I looked down at my own rune. It was dark.

"What is it?" Suiden asked, his eyes narrowed, still holding his sword in front of him.

"A glory sphere," Wyln said. "It's the corruption of pestilence and the grave.” Pellan gave another faint smile, once more looking like his Enchanter uncle. "If the human had stayed with his master, he would've recognized the block sooner, perhaps to overcome it. Instead you and the cat decided to keep him for yourself and what you couldn't teach him has become his undoing." The smile died as he looked at the city guards. "Take their weapons.”

The City Watch relieved us of our swords and knives (Groskin's had grown to eight), and Laurel's staff.

"You have been declared reprobate, Laurel of the Black Hills," Pellan said, "and all your appointments and privileges are so forfeit.”

"They've not that right," Laurel said, his claws unsheathed in his rage. He turned a snarling face on a guard as he reached for the staff.

The commander gestured and the sphere floated a hairs-breadth away from my nose, and I fought not to move or cross my eyes. "Your choice, cat," Pellan said. He shrugged once more at Laurel's growl as the staff was yanked from him. "You can take it up with the Council," he said as the guard passed Laurel's staff to him.