Sworn To Defiance (24 page)

Thanar glared at them. “But I don’t want to die, either, and I know if he comes through it’s inevitable.”

Sebastian and Vana slowly rose.

“So?” said Sebastian. His eyes were oddly shiny, even hopeful.

Ciardis gulped. Hoping, praying really, that Thanar wouldn’t dash that hope.

“The trick is to make sure he never comes through that gate,” said Thanar. “Shut it down before he emerges and he will never be seen in these lands again.”

The three looked at each other and then back at Thanar.

“And how...do we do that?”

“The dragons,” said Thanar with distant eyes. “During the wars long ago, the dragons created a device which limited the powers of the gods. It was powerful enough to defeat the
blutgott
once before and banished him from these lands.”

“I would think not,” said Thanar, “since it took ten dead dragons the last time and they care a
lot
less about you humans now than they did three hundred years ago.”

Vana didn’t ask him, but Ciardis could see that her thoughts were whirling in her head. She knew something. Ciardis didn’t know how she knew, but she did.

Thanar sighed. “I’m suggesting we go to Kifar and retrieve it, defeat that nasty surprise the princess heir had stored there, and hopefully not die while getting to it.”

“Die?” echoed Sebastian and Ciardis.

“The Collar of Diamis,” whispered Vana.

Thanar ignored Sebastian and Ciardis while turning an impressed look on Vana. “Most humans haven’t heard of it.”

Vana smiled. “Most humans aren’t me.”

Ciardis asked. “So we get this collar and—”

“It’s not that simple,” Vana said hurriedly. “We need the collar
and
the wearer.”

“A volunteer?” Sebastian said.

“The person is special.”

“Wait,” murmured Ciardis. “Hibblebottom said she had an shaman who could lead us to a special person. Maybe that is what she meant?”

“Undoubtedly possible,” said Thanar. “Oracles, shamans, and mystics are notoriously unreliable.”

They all looked at him doubtfully.

“But we’ve certainly gallivanted off on a lot less substantial theories, so why not this?” the daemoni prince said.

“Besides,” Ciardis murmured, “that’s three.”

“Three?” Sebastian asked.

“Three times we’ve been told to go to Kifar,” Ciardis said. “I’m beginning to think it isn’t coincidence. It’s fate.”

A
few minutes later as they began to walk down the hallway, a man hurried toward them from the opposite direction. A man Ciardis recognized, followed by several people calling her name.

When Terris spotted Ciardis behind Vana, she said, “Thank the gods.”

Soon Ciardis was enveloped in a hug by both her friend and the lord chamberlain who followed close behind.

Immediately after Terris pushed her to arm’s length as she said, “We heard about the ambush outside the Duke of Carne’s castle. I’ve been searching high and low for you all day. As soon as we got to one location, we were told you have moved on.”

Ciardis smiled. “It’s been that kind of day.”

“You look exhausted, my dear, but well,” said the lord chamberlain.

“I am exhausted,” Ciardis replied simply. “But alive.”

Lord Meres said grimly to Sebastian, “Good to see you again, Prince Heir.”

“And you,” said Sebastian while straightening and wiping his face hastily.

“Did you come to escort us back to the underground city?” said Ciardis to turn attention away from Sebastian’s reddening face.

“Yes,” said Lord Meres.

“No,” said the imperial chamberlain.

“Well, which is it?” Lady Vana.

Lord Meres and the lord chamberlain exchanged glances while Meres held out a hand to cede the floor.

The lord chamberlain nodded gratefully. “I received a message from His Imperial Majesty. He requests an audience with you posthaste.”

“Another one,” Ciardis muttered, her shoulders drooping. She really was tired.

“Does it have to be tonight?” said Lady Vana sharply.

Sebastian raised an eyebrow at her but if it was Thanar who explained the tense situation.

“I would wonder what’s so urgent that the emperor requests an immediate audience,” Thanar murmured. “Whatever it is, can’t be good.”

“Did you both run this scenario before him?” Thanar asked impatiently. “The wedding, the call for support?”

Ciardis and Sebastian exchanged alarmed glances.

“Well...mostly,” Ciardis muttered.

Thanar snorted. “There’s your answer. Most emperors are intolerant of people instigating civil wars on their territories...and with good reason.”

The lord chamberlain cleared his throat. “He seemed...disturbed but not upset. This was after he spoke with Lord Crassius earlier this afternoon. I was actually dispatched to find you an hour after that meeting. But I do know this: the emperor has given orders that he was not to be disturbed after his evening meal.”

“Which means now is far too late,” Sebastian said. His voice sounded almost delighted.

Ciardis was far less circumspect. “Fantastic, then we can bloody well see him in the morning! If he wants to eviscerate us, he can do it on a full night’s rest.”

She peered hopefully at the lord chamberlain. “Right, Lord Steadfast?”

“That would be correct, Madame Weathervane,” he said with a chuckle, “or should I call you Lady Companion Weathervane?”

Ciardis blushed with pride. “Lady Companion will do.”

“Very well, Lady Companion,” Lord Steadfast said.

“Oh, Ciardis, congratulations. You’ve joined the guild in full now?” said Terris.

Ciardis beamed. “Yes, I have.”

“Was that stuffy old bat there?”

Ciardis gasped. “You’ve met Lady Hibblebottom?”

Terris nodded. “She’s the one that administered my contract—”

Lord Meres cleared his throat. “Perhaps, my love, this is not the best place. Plus, our friends need their rest.”

“Oh yes,” said Terris with an affectionate squeeze of Ciardis’s hands. “We do indeed have a lot to talk about. But it can be done later.”

Ciardis’s shoulders relaxed gratefully. “Good, I look forward to it.”

Then her voice dropped. “Are we sleeping on those horrible cots again?”

“Cots?” asked Terris blankly.

“In the underground city?”

“No,” Lord Meres assured. “We made arrangements with a Ms. Marlstone to move to her palace apartments.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “She’s letting you?”

“She was a bit difficult at first,” admitted Lord Meres.

“Let’s be real,” admonished Terris, “She was a right bitch. But once we explained the situation, who we were and that we knew what was going on she grudgingly agreed.”

Lord Meres hastened to add, “There’s also a strategic factor to it.”

“Which is?” asked Vana curtly.

“The apartments in the former empress’s palace wing connect to the underground city through a tunnel,” Lord Meres said.

Ciardis’s eyes lit up. “So if we need to escape we have an evacuation plan.”

“Yes,” nodded Lord Meres.

“Great,” said Ciardis with a yawn and stretch of her arms. “Let’s go home then.”

The lord chamberlain bowed. “I will retire to my own quarters. If you would agree to be at the emperor’s apartments at dawn, I think that would appease him.”

“We will be there,” said Sebastian gratefully.

The lord chamberlain smiled, looked at all of them, and said, “It is good to see you all well. It is has been a tumultuous few days since we last crossed paths.”

Ciardis smiled. “We can’t thank you enough for your support, Lord Steadfast.”

“I am ever a supporter of the Weathervane family,” he said. Then he bowed and left.

Ciardis looked at the rest of the group. “Shall we?”

They left and retired to the empress’s quarters in record time.

The next morning came much too quickly for Ciardis. As she dressed with a tired yawn, she had to wonder what they were in for when they had their second meeting in two days with the man posing as Sebastian’s father.

Rubbing an aching muscle in her lower arm—residual effects from being slashed open by the griffin no doubt—Ciardis’s ears perked up as she heard the squall of an irritated creature outside. She wouldn’t have opened her door though if she hadn’t recognized the cry.

Skarar stood in her entranceway, feathers plumed, and an eager expression on his face. His father not too far behind.

“Feeling better, are we?” Ciardis said in a crabby voice.

She couldn’t help it. She wasn’t a morning person and seeing a bushy-tailed griffin kit in the hallway an hour before the sun had even deigned to rise was too much for her.

Skarar ignored her grouching and eased down on lower legs like a cat stretching in the sun’s rays. Skarar’s father caught up to him and said, “I apologize, Lady Weathervane. We were on our way to the servants’ kitchen for a morning meal.”

Then he turned to his son and said in a reproachful but loving voice that only a parent could manage, “I’m
sure
we didn’t meant to disturb the lady from her slumber.”

The griffin kit chittered at Ciardis in what she assumed was his version of assurances. She hid a smile behind a sleeved hand.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I was already up and am in fact starving. Would you mind if I joined you?”

“We would be delighted to have you guest with us for a meal.”

Ciardis smiled. “Just let me get something. I’ll be right back.”

She turned into her room and grabbed a knife and put it at her waist. It was a dagger that looked more ceremonial than functional, but she had tested its weight and found it handy. It doubled as both a jeweled piece to set off her attire and a defense mechanism, which was the best she could ask for as she wandered the imperial court. Plus, it was small enough to be allowed at court whereas her glaive would have to stay in her room.

She threw a hooded cloak on top of her pants and tunic just in case the weather was cold and she had to dash outside while running for her life and finished it off with a simple gold necklace around her throat. It would make her poorly dressed for a noble but she had found that the emperor wasn’t a stickler for attire where she was concerned. After all, she’d once showed up in his presence with her dirty hair wrapped in a falling turban.

Satisfied, Ciardis hummed and walked back to the door. As she did so she wondered when she’d get her official Companions’ Guild mark. When she had first met Lady Serena, she had the mark set just below her collar bone. It had been the emblem of the imperial court—a red lion rampant, encircled by the twisted vines of the Companions’ Guild symbol.

The door opened with a twist of her hand and she put it from her mind. The mark would be good to have as it would open doors all across the empire for her, but as long as she was traveling with Sebastian it should be a moot point. He outranked her and could commandeer anything he needed ‘in the name of the empire.’

Walking down the hall with a black griffin on one side and a golden griffin on the other, Ciardis had to chuckle.

“Something funny, my lady?” Skar said, puzzled.

Ciardis shook her head as they took the stairs to the lower levels. “No, just thinking about my life and how it has changed so quickly that my head is whirling.”

Then Ciardis turned to Skar. “What happened to your friend, by the way? The other griffin?”

“They elected to travel back to our encampment with Jason SaAlgardis and Seraphina,” explained Skar. “My son’s wing is still healing and I elected to stay here.”

Ciardis nodded. The latter made sense. The former, however...

“They just left?” said Ciardis, shocked as they entered the kitchens.

Evasively the big griffin said, “Jason has plans for you but he knows you are
limited
in what you can do now. He will prepare for now.”

“What plans?” she asked.

“Nothing he would wish me to disclose,” said Skar warily, “especially in the palace where there are ears everywhere—friendly and unfriendly.”

Ciardis nodded and noted that they weren’t alone in the kitchen. Skar was right.

Ciardis smiled at a kitchen helper and asked for a meal.

The woman flushed and looked around, a bit frantic. “We’ll prepare something immediately, my lady.”

She practically flew across the room to the cupboards as she started taking herbs down that were hanging in bunches from the ceiling. Ciardis frowned and looked at four footman sitting on a rough wooden bench and eating some kind of soup out of hard crust.

Quickly, she said, “That’s not necessary, I’ll have whatever they’re having.” She pointed insistently at the men.

The woman looked at Ciardis with a hesitant gaze. “Stew, my lady? That’s not proper. I’ll fix something. I promise it won’t take long.”

“Stew is fine,” Ciardis said.

“But...are you sure?”

“Quite so,” Ciardis said as she walked over to a chair and small table in a corner near a fire with enough space for two griffins to ease down in front of her.

The woman blinked. “Well, if you change your mind upon tasting it, I’ll be glad to prepare something.”

Ciardis smiled. “Why, does it taste so bad?”

“No, my lady!” the woman said with wide eyes. “I made it myself. Well, me and my mam. It’s quite good.”

She looked over at the men and they raised their bowls and chimed in their praise.

Ciardis nodded. “Then I look forward to trying it.” She was watching the young woman pleasantly. The woman still stood frozen on the other side of the room.

Then it was as if Ciardis’s words thrust her into the action.

She hurried to grab a fresh loaf of bread and cut it in half. Then she cored it, poured steaming soup inside from a ladled cauldron over the fire, placed the cored pieces of fresh white bread into the top of the stew, and hesitantly set it in front of Ciardis with a spoon.

“Fresh beef stew with carrots, potatoes, herbs, and hard bread for you, my lady,” the woman said as she backed away.