Glasswrights' Journeyman (37 page)

“We have our ways, my lord. The spiderguild brews a potion to keep from the spiders' own poison, to keep the octolaris in check. Nectar, we call it. Octolaris nectar.” Her face flushed, and her fingers curled about her belly, as if she were hiding something shameful. “It is made from octolaris poison, but it is diluted. It calls to the spiders, soothes them. When we have drunk it, they can sense it on our hands, on our clothes.”

Something about her tone made him understand. “You drank the nectar that day. When you came to me before.”

Her fingers twined before her, weaving, weaving. She did not meet his eyes. “Yes.”

His body seized as he remembered his mystifying passion, the all-consuming heat that
had blazed across his flesh. He had not been able to pull his eyes from her, had not been able to
step away. Every breath had brought him closer to her, filled his mouth with the scent of her, the
taste. … “You drugged me.”

“Yes.”

“But why? What could you hope to gain? I'm hardly a venomous spider that had to be subdued.”

She swallowed hard and started to speak, but stopped before she could voice a single, husky word. She closed her eyes, filled her lungs, and then she exhaled slowly. Carefully, bravely, she caught his gaze, looking into his eyes as if there were nothing more important in all the world. She said, “There was no reason, lord. I drank the nectar so that I could tend my spiders. It was a strong brew, stronger than I ever tried as an apprentice at the spiderguild. I finished with the octolaris, but the nectar still burned hot within my veins. I left my chamber and walked through all the hallways, waiting for the drink to exhaust itself. It was only happenstance that I was here when Rani Trader left your rooms. It was only coincidence that brought me to your chamber.”

He stared at her, remembering his conversation with Rani, remembering his desolation when the merchant girl announced that she was leaving. He had wanted to reach out for her, to forbid her to leave Liantine. And yet, he had known that she was right. He had known that she must go.

And then Mareka had appeared. Without a plan. Without a mission. By the pure happenstance of all the Thousand Gods. Warm and willing with the bewitching aura of her octolaris nectar.

He shook his head and forced away the memories. “So, you brought the spiders to Liantine.”

“Yes, my lord. And they have thrived! The brooding females have tended to their egg sacs, and the spiderlings are set to hatch.”

Brooding females. Spiderlings. The Order of the Octolaris hovered even closer.

“But then?” he prompted. “Jerusha?”

“Jerusha found me in my chamber. I was counting out my markin grubs, seeing how many remain to feed the spiders.” Mareka gestured toward the pot. “She found me. She learned about the spiders. And now she'll tell the spiderguild, and they will order all the octolaris destroyed. I won't be able to save them this time. None of them. The brooding females, the egg sacs. All those spiderlings, dead. Because I let Jerusha find me.”

“Unless. …” Hal trailed off, hoping that Mareka would complete his thought.

“Unless what? The guild will never let them live. Not when it condemned them once before.”

“Unless the guild cannot reach them.”

“They'll get them soon enough. Jerusha is a princess now, in the house of Thunderspear. King Teheboth can enter my chamber at any time. The guild will send a master, and the king will give him access to my spiderboxes.”

“Teheboth Thunderspear cannot enter every chamber in this house.”

“Are you mad? He's the king!”

“He's the king of Liantine. But I am the king of Morenia, and Amanthia, too. I can claim the right of embassy, and no one from the house of Thunderspear can set foot inside these chambers.”

The right of embassy was longstanding, honored for generations. Hal had been assigned these apartments by the king of Liantine when he journeyed east of his own free will. Now, the space within these walls functioned as an outpost of Morenia. Whatever transpired here was separate, apart from Liantine.

Hal waited for Mareka to trace through his plan. She could bring the spiders at once, before Jerusha thought to post a guard outside Mareka's chamber. Save them from certain destruction.

And, Hal told himself, once he had physical possession of the octolaris, he could take them for himself. It would not be theft, he quickly thought. It would be salvation. The guild did not want them; it wanted to destroy them. He could save the spiders. He could spirit them away to Morenia. He could sell them to his nobles, found the Order of the Octolaris. He would have his gold.

The first octolaris outside the spiderguild enclave in generations, and they would be his in a matter of minutes. …

“That is impossible, my lord.”

“What?” He was astonished.

Her face was lined with pain, but she made her voice firm. “I cannot breach the spiderguild's monopoly. I must obey them.” Her voice quivered. “I am their apprentice.”

“How long will you keep that rank, once they learn that you have stolen octolaris?”

“If I return the spiders. If I keep the guild's monopoly safe.” She spoke the words like a prayer, like a child's chant against ghosts. He realized that she did not fully believe what she said. She was not certain that her guild would keep her. She was afraid. “Even if I let you have the spiders, they would starve. My grubs won't last forever.”

“I'll get them food.”

“Impossible. You need to feed them markin grubs. From riberry trees. Those only grow at the enclave.”

The enclave. Hal's heart beat faster. Rani was heading to the enclave even now. She was mounting her attack, plotting on his behalf, working for his nascent Order. “I will get you riberry trees.”

Her laugh was bitter. Hopeless. “Never. I must return the spiders, my lord. I must humble myself before my guildmasters and hope that they show mercy.”

Her resignation infuriated him. She was going to throw away his kingdom's hopes for her baseless dreams. “How will you kill the spiders, Mareka Octolaris? How will you execute them, back at your guild?” She flinched, and he stepped closer. “Will you poison them, give them a dose of their own venom? No? By fire, then.”

“By fire,” she whispered.

“Are you prepared to do that? Are you prepared to stand by the flames and offer up each spider?”

“I'll do what must be done.” Her voice shook.

“You will take them, one by one. You'll have to dose yourself with nectar, no? Your flesh will burn with theirs. Your eyes will see with theirs as you bring them closer, closer –”

“I have no choice!”

“You do!” He caught her arm, gripped her hard, even though he knew the pain that it surely caused her. He must have the octolaris. He could not let them slip away, not now. Not when they were so close. “Don't fool yourself, Mareka. The guild will use you until you bring them back their spiders, and then they'll cast you out forever.”

“They won't! They are my people!”

“You have no people. Not any longer. You betrayed your guild.” He shook her arm, looming over her and letting his desperate need scorch his words. “You will be alone. You will have no home. You will have no name. All you will possess is a memory, a thought of how you killed the spiders. How you followed their commands and burned your octolaris.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears, the first that he had ever seen from her. He tightened his grasp upon her arm.

“They can live, Mareka. Give them to me.”

Tears glistened down her cheeks, silent, silver.

Slowly, she nodded her head.

“Say it.” Her lips trembled, and he shook her, as if she were a wayward child. “Say that you will give me the octolaris.”

“I will, my lord.” She caught a sob at the back of her throat. “I will give you all my octolaris. To save them. To keep them from the fire.”

He sighed and let her go. Was he a madman? Was he a brutal, raving fiend?

No. He was a king who fought to save his kingdom. A man who fought for power in the Fellowship, for leadership in that strong, secret cabal. He was a man who had just broken the strongest monopoly his world had ever seen. “We have no time to waste. We must get them from your chambers before Jerusha thinks to lock us out.”

He was not completely heartless, though. He took his time collecting his cloak. He gave Mareka a chance to wipe her tears away, to draw herself up, to find her buried pride. He did not stare as she crossed his chamber, as she unlatched the door.

But when she stood on the threshold, framed within the doorway, he looked at her, and he remembered how she had first come to him. He remembered the power of the octolaris nectar, the stunning yearning it had raised within him.

He shoved aside those thoughts. There was no time for foolishness. He hurried through the hallways, eager to bring his octolaris home.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14

 

“Halt! Speak your name!”

Rani jerked awake, gasping for breath even as she scrambled to her feet. In her first dream-crossed moment of awareness, she glanced at the high walls of the spiderguild enclave, at the ominous gate that was closed until dawn. The guild was not attacking, though. The guild had taken no formal notice of the group that waited for admittance.

Instead, Crestman stood before her, his back lit by the low-burning campfire. He faced the darkness of the high plains with his Amanthian blade drawn, and he called again, “Speak your name! Identify yourself!”

Rani snagged the long knife that she had set beside her saddle just before she fell asleep. She hefted the weapon and tossed her hair from her gaze. Mair materialized before her, swearing fluently and fingering her own blade. Tovin swept up from the darkness as well, his short sword glittering in the embers' light.

“Rani! Rani Trader!”

Before she could recognize the voice that called her name, Mair tensed beside her. “Farso!” called the Touched girl, and she rushed past Crestman, ignoring his curved and deadly blade.

Baron Farsobalinti stepped into the firelight. He held his hands clear at his side, conspicuously avoiding the hilt of his own sheathed sword, not even moving to embrace Mair. “Well met, Crestman. King Halaravilli would be pleased.”

“Who is this?” Tovin asked, as Rani sheathed her knife.

“Baron Farsobalinti. King Halaravilli's closest friend.” She stepped forward. “What is it, my lord? Has our king fallen ill?”

Farso reached a fleeting hand toward Mair's face, but he answered Rani immediately. “Nay, King Halaravilli is well enough. He sent me with a message, though.”

Crestman slapped his sword back into his sheath. He gestured toward their fire and said, “Come then, hand it over.”

Farso shook his head. “It is not written. My lord did not want to risk it falling into the hands of his enemies.”

“Then speak, man! We are all listening.”

Again, Farso shook his head, looking past Crestman. “I must speak with Rani. The king's words are for her alone.”

Rani's heart squeezed tight in her chest, and she barely managed to pull in a breath. What had happened in Liantine? Why had Hal sent Farso? Feeling as if another person moved her limbs, she made her way to the tall, pale lord. “Aye, my lord. Let us step aside.”

She noticed Mair's look of consternation, the protest that bubbled up to the Touched girl's lips. She heard Crestman mutter something, and she sensed Tovin on the edge of their group, separate, confused. Farso wasted no time; he pulled her into the darkness.

“What, my lord? What news could be so urgent?”

“He told me I must reach you before you enter the spiderguild enclave. I rode out nine horses.”

“Tell me, then. What message do you bring from the king?”

The nobleman glanced at the towering wall behind her, and he lowered his voice so that he scarcely breathed his words. “His Majesty has acquired spiders, my lady. Octolaris for your plan.”

“What?” Her yelp was loud enough that Crestman took a step closer. She forced herself to whisper to Farso, “How? How did he get them?”

“The spiderguild apprentice in Liantine, Mareka. She stole them from her masters.”

For just an instant, Rani pictured the woman's face, her high cheekbones, her calculating eyes. Mareka Octolaris had broken her guild's monopoly, then, smuggled out the spiders. Even now, Rani could remember the manipulative flash of the apprentice's eyes. “And riberry trees? Did she manage those as well?”

Farso shook his head. “No. There are grubs enough for another month, but after that the spiders will starve. His Majesty commands you to negotiate with the spiderguild for the trees. He thought your mission might be easier if you need not argue for the octolaris as well.”

“Aye,” she breathed. Easier. But still not easy. “You did well to ride so fast. This news will make a difference.” She shook her head, still wondering how she would negotiate, how she might manipulate the spiderguild. What could she say to them? What bargain could she offer that would convince them to part with the trees? Could she trick them into giving up the riberries, if they did not know Morenia had the spiders? And when would the guild learn that news?

“When did this happen, my lord?”

“Late in the afternoon, the day before yesterday.” Rani stared at the nobleman, her surprise transparent. He had not exaggerated about the nine horses – even so, he had ridden faster than she would have thought possible.

“Then the guild cannot know yet.”

“Not yet, but they will soon. Princess Jerusha will send them notice, and she will have royal riders at her disposal. They should be here no more than an hour after dawn.”

“And that will be an hour too late.”

“My lady?”

Rani realized that she had been speaking more to herself than to Farso. “Tovin Player has explained to us. The spiderguild opens its gate but once a day, to protect itself against marauders. Anyone who would enter or leave must stand before the gate at the moment the sun crests the horizon. After that, the gates are closed and all must wait until the next dawn.”