Cursor's Fury (12 page)

She had a husband. Love.

“I just bought you a brand-new girl, Attis,” teased a woman’s voice from outside the litter, the tone clear and confident. “You’ll be amused until I return.”

“She’s lovely,” said the man. “But she’s not you.” His tone turned wry. “Unlike the last one.”

The door to the air coach opened, and Isana had to call upon Rill to halt
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tears from filling her eyes. Isana’s fingers touched the shape of the ring beneath her blouse, still on the chain around her neck. Unlike her, it had remained bright and untarnished by the passage of years.

She shook away the remnants of the dream as best she could and forced her thoughts back to the moment.

High Lord Aquitainus Attis, who five years ago had perpetrated a plot resulting in the deaths of hundreds of her neighbors in the Calderon Valley, opened the coach door and nodded pleasantly to Isana. He was a lion of a man, combining grace of motion in balance with physical power. His mane of dark golden hair fell to his shoulders, and nearly black eyes glittered with intelligence. He moved with perfect confidence, and his furycrafting was unmatched by anyone in the Realm, save perhaps the First Lord himself.

“Steadholder,” he said politely, nodding to Isana.

She nodded back to him, though she felt her neck stiffening as she did. She did not trust herself to sound civil when speaking to him, and so remained silent.

“I quite enjoy my holidays abroad,” murmured the woman, her voice now near at hand. “And I am perfectly capable of looking after myself. Besides. You have your own work to do.”

The woman entered the coach and settled down on the opposite bench. High Lady Aquitaine Invidia looked every inch the model of the elite Citizenry, pale, dark-haired, tall, and regal. Though Isana knew that Lady Aquitaine was in her forties, like her husband and Isana herself, she looked barely twenty. Like all blessed with sufficient power at watercrafting, she enjoyed the ongoing appearance of youth. “Good evening, Isana.”

“My lady,” Isana murmured. Though she had no more love for the woman than she did for Lord Aquitaine, she could at least manage to speak politely to her, if not warmly.

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He rolled his eyes, gave her a quick kiss, and said, “Impossible woman. Very well, have it your way.”

“Naturally,” she said. “Farewell, my lord.”

He inclined his head to her, nodded at Isana, shut the door, and withdrew. He thumped the side of the litter twice, and said, “Captain, take care of them.”

“My lord,” replied a male voice from outside the door, and the Knights Aeris lifted the litter. The winds rose to the low, steady roar that had become familiar to Isana in the last two years, and unseen force pressed her against her seat as the litter leapt into the skies.

Several moments passed in silence, during which Isana leaned her head against her cushion and closed her eyes, in the hopes that the pretense of sleep would prevent the need for conversation with Lady Aquitaine. Her hopes were in vain.

“I apologize for the length of the trip,” Lady Aquitaine said after a few moments. “But the high winds are always tricky at this season, and this year they are particularly dangerous. We must therefore fly much lower than we usually would.”

Isana did not voice the thought that it was still a great deal higher than a walk along the ground. “Does it make a difference?” she asked, without opening her eyes.

“It is more difficult to stay aloft closer to the earth, and more difficult to fly quickly,” Lady Aquitaine replied. “My Knights Aeris must count the journey in miles instead of leagues, and given the number of stops we must make to visit my supporters, it will take us a great deal longer to reach our destination.”

Isana sighed. “How much longer?”

“Most of three weeks, I am told. And that is an optimistic estimate that assumes fresh teams of Knights Aeris await us at way stations.”

Three weeks. Rather too long a time to pretend to be asleep without openly insulting her patron. Though Isana knew her value to the Aquitaines, and knew that she could afford to avoid the usual fawning and scraping such powerful patrons required, there were limits she would be ill-advised to press. Consequently, she opened her eyes.

Lady Aquitaine curled her rich mouth into a smile. “I thought you would appreciate the information. You’d look rather silly sitting there with your eyes closed the whole way.”

“Of course not, my lady,” Isana said. “Why would I do such a thing?”

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Invidia’s eyes hardened for a moment. Then she said, “I am given to understand that you plan a small reunion with your family in Ceres.”

“After the meeting with the League, of course,” Isana said. “I have been assured of alternate travel arrangements back to Calderon if my plans should inconvenience you.”

Invidia’s cool features blossomed into a small, even genuine, smile. “Hardly anyone fences with me anymore, Isana. I’ve actually looked forward to this trip.”

“As have I, my lady. I have missed my family.”

Invidia laughed again. “I shall ask little of you beyond our visits with my supporters and the League meeting,” she said. Then she tilted her head to one side and leaned forward slightly. “Though you have not been apprised of the meeting’s agenda.”

“They should spend time running a steadholt,” Isana said, her tone wry. “It makes one acutely aware of the extended consequences of small but significant actions.”

The High Lady moved one shoulder in a shrug. “Perhaps you are correct.”

“Will Gracchus support the proposal?”

“He has never been a foe of the abolitionist movement. His wife, daughter, and mistresses assure me that he will,” Lady Aquitaine said.

Isana frowned. She disapproved of such manipulations, though it was the Dianic League’s first and favorite tool. “And the Senate?”

“Impossible to say for certain,” Lady Aquitaine said. “There is no knowing what debts may be called in on such an important issue. But enough to make a real fight of it. For the first time in Aleran history, Isana, we may abolish the institution of slavery. Forever.”

Isana frowned in thought. It was indeed a worthy goal, and one that would rally the support of folk of conscience everywhere. Slaves in most of the Realm faced a grim lot in life—hard labor and little chance of ever working their way free, even though the law required owners to sell a slave’s freedom should he ever earn his (or her) buying price. Female slaves had no recourse to the uses their bodies were put to, though neither did males, when it came to it. Children
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were all born free, legally at least, though most owners employed various forms of taxation or indenture for them, which amounted to outright enslavement from birth.

The laws of the Realm were supposed to protect slaves, to limit the institution to those who had been willing to enter bondage and who could, in time, repay their indenture and walk free again. But corruption and political influence allowed each High Lord virtually to ignore the laws and to treat slaves in whatever fashion each saw fit. In the time since she had become Lady Aquitaine’s ally in the Dianic League, Isana had learned more than she had ever dreamed about the abuses slaves suffered in much of the Realm. She had thought her own encounter with the slaver Kord was nightmarish enough to last a lifetime. She had been sickened to learn that in much of the rest of the Realm, his conduct was but marginally worse than average.

The Dianic League, an organization consisting solely of female Citizens of the Realm—those with status, influence, but little actual, legal power—had struggled for years to engender support for the abolishment of slavery. For the first time, they were in a position to cause it to be, for while the High Lords and the First Lord controlled the military assets of the Realm, the criminal codes of Alera, and the enforcement of civil law, it was left to the elected Senate to create and administer those laws.

Slavery had been a civil institution since its inception, and the Senate had the power to pass new laws regarding slavery—or to abolish it altogether. The Dianic League considered it the first step toward gaining legal parity for the women of the Realm.

Isana frowned. Though Lady Invidia had always been true to her word and her obligations as patron, Isana harbored no illusions that she had any personal interest in emancipation. Even so, it was difficult for Isana to resist the inherent lure in the accomplishment of such a dream, the destruction of such an injustice.

But then, she was hardly in any condition to think with the cool, detached logic required by politics. Not with a reunion with her loved ones so near at hand. Isana wanted nothing so much as to see Tavi again, whole and well—though the uncomfortable silences resulting from slips in conversation, when one of them mentioned something loosely related to politics or loyalty, made it a somewhat bittersweet proposition. She wanted to speak with her brother again. Between running the steadholt and the infrequent but regular voyages from her home on behalf of Invidia Aquitaine, there had been fewer and fewer opportunities to get together with her little brother. She missed him.

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The irony in traveling halfway across the Realm to break bread with them again—and taken there by the Aquitaines, no less—was not lost on Isana. Neither was the sobering reality that she had brought it all upon herself, by allying herself with her current patron, one with ruthless, ambitious designs upon the Crown.

Even so, Isana forced herself to push her family from her thoughts and regard the situation with detached intellect. What did the Aquitaines have to gain by outlawing slavery?

“This isn’t about freedom,” she murmured aloud. “Not for you. It’s about crippling Kalare’s economy. Without slave labor, he’ll never profit from his farmlands. He’ll be too busy fighting to remain solvent to rival your husband for the Crown.”

Lady Aquitaine stared at Isana for a moment, her expression unreadable.

Isana did not let her eyes waver from her patron’s. “Perhaps it’s just as well that many in the League do not perceive as much as I do.”

Lady Aquitaine’s expression remained detached. “Do I have your support—and confidence—in the matter or not?”

“Yes. As I promised,” Isana said. She leaned back in her seat and closed her eyes again. “Nothing I do can stop you from scheming. If some good can be accomplished along the way, I see no reason not to attempt it.”

“Excellent,” Lady Aquitaine said. “And practical of you.” She paused for a thoughtful moment, and Isana could feel the sudden weight of the High Lady’s full attention. “Hardly a freeman in the Realm would be able to recognize the situation for what it is, Isana. It makes me wonder where you acquired the necessary perspective for these kinds of politics. Someone must have taught you.”

“I read,” she said, not needing to falsify the weariness in her voice. “Nothing more.” Isana used years of practice and experience to keep any expression from her face, but in the wake of the dream, it was almost painfully difficult to prevent her hand from rising to touch the outline of the ring hanging over her heart.

There was another long silence, and Lady Aquitaine said, “I suppose I must applaud your scholarship, then.”

The weight of her attention passed, and Isana almost sagged with relief. It was dangerous, lying to the High Lady, whose talent for watercraft and thus for sensing lies and deceptions was greater than even Isana’s own. The woman was capable of torture, of murder, even if she preferred to use less draconian tactics. Isana had no illusions that those preferences were the result of practical logic
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and self-interest, rather than ethical belief. If necessary to her plans, Lady Aquitaine could kill Isana without batting a long-lashed eyelid.

Chapter 6