Raven's Ladder (29 page)

Brevolo walked to the table, and she gasped when she saw savorsweet syrup for the bread. “Thank you,” she said. Then she said it again several times as her gaze swept across plates of sliced meat, small cups of fish eggs, and bunches of seagrapes.

“My name is Emeriene.”

“I am Tabor Jan ker Tanner. And this is Brevolo kai Galarand.”

“In House Abascar I suppose I would have been Emeriene kai Myrton. My father is Myrton, the royal chemist.” The woman seemed genuinely pleased to greet them. “I’ve always appreciated that tradition of yours in Abascar, giving honor to a father or mother in your name. Bel Amica has no such tradition. Once people reach a certain age, they can change their name if they wish. Tabor Jan—what does it mean?”

“I was born Jan—named by my mother for a man from old stories. An invisible watcher. Apparently I was nearly silent as an infant. Then my father began to notice that everything I did, I did as if to a drumbeat. He was a firm believer in order. So he named me for a drum. They argued, but both names stuck.”

“You are King Cal-raven’s man-at-arms. And captain of the Abascar defenders.”

“I am.”

“Your people have survived some horrible ordeals.”

“We still suffer,” said Brevolo, and Tabor Jan restrained himself from silencing her. He did not want to hurry into complaints.

Emeriene shook her head. “I’m sorry. Some of us have wished to offer you more help. Others have made it…difficult.”

She turned then and addressed the whole company. “I speak for Queen Thesera, her son, Partayn, and her daughter, Cyndere, when I say this: You are welcome to House Bel Amica. Forgive us for our slowness in giving you the attention you deserve. We mean to help you forget your troubles, find rest and healing, and begin again.”

Brevolo looked up sharply, and Tabor Jan could sense her objection to the idea of forgetting what she had lost. But he touched her arm and then touched his lips to suggest patience.

“Enjoy the food. Enjoy the fire. Each of you will have an opportunity to express concerns, and we will respond as best we can.”

“We?” asked Jes-hawk.

“One of your own will be a representative who will report to me and advise me. Now, I would speak with Tabor Jan awhile. So, please, be at peace.”

She led Tabor Jan to the far end of the hall where a three-paneled tapestry depicted a king—most likely Helpryn—standing on the arc of a bridge and blessing a boat that passed beneath. The tapestry was upright, its panels folded to enclose a smaller portion of the hall with three cushioned chairs behind it.

Tabor Jan hesitated, then followed Emeriene out of sight of the company.

She sat in a high-backed chair that had bold wooden feet carved like eagle talons. She gestured for Tabor Jan to take the identical chair opposite her. Another fangbear fur lay between them—and this one had a head with jaws open, facing him. The floor beneath was made of flagstones smoothed as if by centuries of water and flecked with winding lines of bright crystals.

“I hope your people will enjoy relief from scrabbling for food and shelter in the wild,” she said. “We’ll give you work that’s more agreeable than the stuff of mere survival. At least for a while. That is the queen’s firm decision. The question of your future is still in play, of course.”

Turning, he found that he could see through the tapestry that separated him from his company. He could watch them whisper to each other as they devoured the delicacies at the table.

“You may be pleased to know that we found a boy belonging to Abascar. Wynn, he calls himself. We’ve put him to work on the docks under strict supervision.”

Tabor Jan shook his head. “Not really one of ours, but we took him in, and his sister, Cortie, after beastmen killed their parents. He must have run off on his own.”

She laughed. “You took him in even though you were struggling to survive? Is Abascar really that generous?”

“We have a gracious king,” Tabor Jan said. “Cal-raven is the best man I know.” He took a deep breath, then posed his first test to his questioner. “He’ll be coming for us soon.”

“Yes,” said Emeriene. “So I understand. Cal-raven. Explain that name to me, will you?”

The sisterly was certainly taking her time. He eased further into the chair to appear comfortable. “Cal-raven took his first steps toward an open window, and his mother found a raven feather there. It’s another tradition—take a name from the place where a child first walks. And then, the royal family can bestow a forename from among the first children of Tammos Raak. Ark, Har, Say, Cal—there are many children mentioned in the old stories. Royalty can give these names to anyone as an honor, as a badge of privilege, in gratitude. Only family may address them without their forename.”

“I met Say-ressa,” said Emeriene. “So she was Ressa before she impressed the king.”

Tabor Jan would have told the story, but he was interrupted when a great rattling noise, like a parade of wagons down a rocky path, broke the silence, and he joined his companions in looking up.

A vast ceiling emerged from a sheath in the face of the rugged stone. The sound, he later learned, came from dozens of wheels hidden along its edges, which ran along tooth-lined tracks atop the chamber walls. The view of the rock above, its platforms and windows, its torches and flags, was replaced by an intricate network of glass panels that glimmered darkly with filtered light.

Emeriene shrugged. “Sometimes we must assemble here in the rain. And at night we must protect this chamber from the bats.” Lowering her voice, she said, “It will be better for us if it’s closed. Less chance of anyone else listening in.”

“We’re being watched?”

“Perhaps.”

The ceiling came to a jolting stop, and the Abascar representatives stood with chins raised, mouths open, gawking. It seemed so simple, so practical—and yet Abascar had never seen such a thing.

The panels were richly hued. Describing them later to the other House-folk, they would fumble for words, speaking more of emotions than metaphors. For what was it like, looking into that abstract collage of fragments and colors? Nothing like a night sky. Nothing like reflections on water. A field carpeted in bright autumn leaves? Perhaps, but these colors were so much brighter.

Tabor Jan returned his gaze to Emeriene and found her examining his company carefully.

“Jan, the invisible watchman,” she murmured.

“My lady, I am duty bound to command our people so they’re ready when the king returns.”

“You’re so sure that he’ll return. Is it not true that Cal-raven was born of a queen who abandoned her people?”

“Cal-raven has applied himself to the survival and restoration of House Abascar from the moment he became king. He is fixed upon one thing—raising that house again.”

Emeriene regarded him quietly for a long time. “Did you know that Cyndere extended an invitation to your king many moons ago? Before spring was fully awake? It’s true. She offered him refuge, resources, anything he might like. He never responded. In fact, he drove off her messenger. With a sword.”

Now it was Tabor Jan’s turn to press his lips shut. Cal-raven had shared Cyndere’s invitation with him. It had included the warning
Trust no one in Bel Amica but Cyndere
. But the king still had not divulged how he had received this message.

Emeriene continued. “There are those here who would exploit Abascar’s need and make slaves of you. Your king has enemies, it seems. More than you might realize.”

“I’m acquainted with some of those…enemies.”

“The same villains who would ruin Cal-raven have arrows ready for Cyndere and Partayn as well. This effectively unites us. If your king does come to Bel Amica, he will need to be carefully guarded by those loyal to him, just as Cyndere and Partayn now have guards everywhere they go. I
would assign you to patrol atop the walls that line and divide Bel Amica’s avenues and yards. What better way for you to freely move about the city and oversee your people?”

“Very well. But, Sisterly Emeriene, when Cal-raven arrives, it will be to gather us and go.”

“I think that the heir and his sister will support Cal-raven’s plan. But we will have to work quietly together. Or the Seers, who have ways of making things difficult, will interfere.”

Tabor Jan began to relax.

“I would ask a favor of you in return. Bel Amica is changing. You would think that devotion to the moon-spirits would unite its believers. But followers listen to their own desires, believing them sacred. They justify whatever they do, saying their behavior was commanded by a guiding spirit. This sets neighbor against neighbor, sister against brother, husband against wife. We flourish, for those believers strive mightily, and some fulfill desires for grand and honorable things. But the fact remains—they compete against one another. We are free here in House Bel Amica to pursue what is best. But in the name of that freedom, there are those who embrace and justify what is worst, undermining what remains of the queen’s hold on order. This evil spreads quickly and quietly, for no one has the right to call it what it is. Greed.”

“My lady, what does this have to do with us, with my being a watchman?”

“I would ask you to be eyes for Cyndere and Partayn as well as for your people. Study the Seers’ activity, especially those closest to the queen. You know who I mean. And if you breathe a word of this, I’ll ship you off to the islands faster than you can skin a… What’s easy to skin?”

He smiled. “Shockwyrms, perhaps?”

“Faster than you can skin a shockwyrm.”

“I will not speak of it.” He was surprised to find he meant it. She was persuasive. And powerfully attractive. No wonder she had such influence in this house.

“Keep a close eye on Captain Ryllion,” she whispered. A more welcome command he could not have imagined. “He’s up to something. As the Seers’ favorite apprentice, he’s become a puppet, even as he flatters himself for the privilege.”

“You feel strongly about this.”

“It’s happening to Cesylle, my husband,” she said with sudden force and bitterness.

So there
, he thought,
is a thing worth knowing
.

“You’re the least likely person we’d set to spy on our own chief defender. We have no reason to trust you.”

“So it would seem.”

“But I’ve chosen an advisor who already knows your people well. An advisor who has always spoken highly of you.”

“You said you would choose an advisor from among our people.”

“Partayn has a company of agents, the royal brotherhood, who serve him discreetly, just as the sisterlies serve Cyndere. My advisor is a new officer in Partayn’s brotherhood. He’ll be the one to find tasks for your people.”

In the corner a curtain parted, and a woman with short yellow hair and a gown of green scales appeared. She wore a tiny emerald in the left side of her nose and silver slippers. Realizing that his surprise had brought him, slack-jawed, to his feet, he bowed. He had no doubt this was Cyndere herself.

“Are we ready?” the woman said to Emeriene softly.

“Only if you are still certain.”

“I am.”

As questions shouted in Tabor Jan’s head, Emeriene turned and cast him a worried smile. “We will speak again soon. For now, I leave you in the care of the queen’s daughter.” With that, the sisterly set aside the tapestry screen and departed.

Cyndere stood beside Emeriene’s chair. “Please, be seated, Captain.” Startled to be addressed by his title, he obeyed. “It is an honor and a privilege.”

“I’ve come to introduce you to a friend. I want you to trust him and not to pester him with complaints or questions.”

She reached down and threw back the fangbear rug. Then she slipped her fingers beneath a hidden seam around one of the flagstones. “My mother’s ancestors were very fond of secret passages,” she said. “We didn’t want Ryllion or the Seers to trouble or threaten Emeriene’s new advisor before he met with you. So we took rather drastic measures.”

She lifted the flagstone. Cold air breezed up through the open space.

A man in a robe belted with gold ascended from the concealed stairway. He moved cautiously, as if confused. He wore armbands similar to those worn by the men who had escorted Partayn on his visit to the survivors. But despite the uniform, he had a bruised and haunted look about him, as if trying to shake off a bad dream.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“You are in good company,” said Cyndere. “Thank you for accepting my invitation, at last, King of Abascar.”

The man, realizing a presence behind him, turned to face the Abascar company.

Behind him, Tabor Jan was the first to drop to his knees. “My lord,” he gasped. “My king.”

T
he ocean-vine apple sparkled like a green moon in the sunlight as Tabor Jan held it aloft. “Have you tried one of these?”

Cal-raven could see countless shining juice beads sealed within its translucent rind.

“They just came in on a boat from, oh, I forget which island. They’re the best.”

“The best what?” asked Cal-raven. At his side Hagah yelped in the hope that Tabor Jan would throw the apple. “Best fruit in the Expanse.”

Tabor Jan bit into the apple with such a sharp crunch that a watchman passing them on this west-facing wall looked back. “Is it one of the Coilsnake s?”

“That’s it!” Tabor Jan half bowed to the watchman, a scrap of the apple’s skin stuck between his teeth. “The island that looks like a snake all wound about. Master, you’ve seen it on the maps?”

“Stop by the shipyards tomorrow,” the other watchman called as he walked away. “They’re bringing in syrup from the Bracelet Isles.”

Cal-raven reached down to scratch Hagah’s head. “A new sensation every sunrise.”

“You say that like it bothers you.”

“How many days has it been since Cyndere gave me back to House Abascar? Twenty? And not a day has passed without the Bel Amicans chattering about something new that everyone must taste or see. These people are
like Hagah as a pup—everything is their new favorite thing.” He tugged on the hound’s ear. “Isn’t that right, friend?” The dog wagged both his tail and his tongue. He had been inseparable from Cal-raven since their reunion.