The Fire Mages (23 page)

At long last, the light grew as the moon rose somewhere out of sight. The trees were dense, but even so enough light penetrated to allow me to remount and carry on. The moon was bright enough to enable me to determine the direction, so I rode north. I was fairly confident of my way, for I knew the maps of Bennamore quite well, however little I knew the lands beyond, but it was still a relief to emerge from the trees onto a solid Bennamore road, one of those funnelling on to the Kingswell road just west of the bridge.

I turned to the northwest but I had hardly gone any distance before I came to a small forest estate. Unlike Drei’s family home, it was neatly fenced, with lumber piled to one side, organised by size, and an array of barns and workshops and stables arranged on three sides of a yard, with not a weed in sight. On the far side was a modest house for the owner with an attached dormitory for the workers.

I saw a child’s face peering from an upper window, sent to bed but not yet asleep, and I judged it safe to stop, for where there were children, there would be at least one woman. A traveller, even a woman alone, had little to fear on Bennamore roads except perhaps the wolves or an occasional bear, but it was sensible not to trust to the good nature of men living out in the forests far from the nearest inn companion.

They were surprised to have a visitor so late, but the moon was not far from full and it wasn’t unusual for travellers to take advantage of the light, especially in winter when the nights were long. I paid three pieces for a huge bowl of stew, some eggs scrambled with beans and as much bread as I could eat. I drank a whole pot of a rather pleasant tangy brew, relieved myself in their latrine and went away with a bag filled with leftovers. They even fed and groomed my horse. They would have found me a bed for the night, but I wanted to keep going as long as there was light to see by.  I couldn’t escape the feeling that Zellanei would be hounding me down at any minute, and my fear of being dragged back to that cellar, perhaps to be bound or drugged this time, overcame any fear of the forest road.

After a while, the road curved round to the west and was joined by another road from the north, and after that there was quite an array of traffic on the road, taking advantage of brightmoon. I tucked in behind a couple of covered wagons, then another wagon joined the train and we rolled at a sedate pace out of the forest and into the northern hills. This was not good agricultural land, but the numerous streams and rivers powered watermills for a variety of industries, so we began to pass clusters of working yards, small settlements and mills, with groups of cottages gathered round tall chimneys like children at the feet of giants.

I was aiming for the small industrial town to the north of Kingswell, but the moon set before I reached there, and we all, wagons and riders alike, pulled into inn yards or all night board taverns or simply stopped at the side of the road, awaiting the sun. I took advantage of the latrines again, but I needed no bed or board. I paced back and forth, fretting away the interminable hour or so before I could move on. My only hope was that my pursuers would be forced to stop as well and wouldn’t gain on me.

It was an hour after dawn when I clattered over a metal bridge into Wemborth, a modest and uninteresting town with no scribery, no library and a Kellon’s hall no larger than an average tavern. I had taken the precaution of asking one of the wagoners about inns, and she directed me to a small, discreet place well away from the main road. There I left my horse, to be collected later, and enquired about the public wagon to Kingswell. They helpfully sent a boy to the office to purchase my ticket while I had my morning board. I had two hours to wait, and my only concerns were to keep out of sight and avoid falling asleep. I walked about until my legs screamed in agony, and my yawns seemed likely to crack my jaw. As soon as I took my seat in the wagon my eyes closed. So it was that I rolled into Kingswell and right into the square in front of the Keep soundly asleep.

I woke to see a matronly face peering at me.

“There, I thought you’d never wake. Are you feeling better now? You must have been worn out, poor thing.”

“Leave her, Mama,” said a sharp voice. “I can guess why she’s so tired.”

I doubted that, but amusement brought me fully awake, and the matron helped me out of the wagon. As I adjusted my scarf, she caught a glimpse of my earrings, and her eyes widened.

“Forgive my daughter, Lady,” she said. “She has a foul mind. Is there anything we can do for you? Are you looking for an inn?”

“No, thank you. I live in the Keep.”

She bowed respectfully, and I smiled and nodded to her. She couldn’t know how grateful I was to receive even such a small sign of human decency. Drei’s behaviour had dented my faith in humanity somewhat.

I walked slowly towards the Keep. This was the point where my careful plan would be laid bare for the sham it was. I had escaped, and in some style, I thought, but I had reached the same stone wall that thwarted me before. Where was I to go? Who could I turn to? Drei had betrayed me. Cal was gone. I had no other friends in Kingswell. Everything I owned was in Drei’s apartment. I had no work and no idea where to find any. I had nowhere to go.

But there was always the law. I had been wronged, and that must be exposed. I had no expectation that Drei would be punished, but if nothing else I could make his miserable little scheme public and thereby ensure it could never be repeated.

So I went to Yannassia.

She was holding some sort of party – an informal reception for the wives of various dignitaries, according to the minions outside her chambers.

“May I go in? I have some important information for the Most Powerful Lady Yannassia that cannot be delayed.”

They made me wait while they conferred, and then dispatched a messenger, while I paced impatiently but at last word came back - I was permitted to join the party.

As soon as I walked in I realised my mistake.

There at her side, smiling and holding her hand while she simpered, was Drei.

There was no help for it but to brazen it out.

A haughty servant announced me, his voice booming across the room.

“Lady Scribe Kyra of Ardamurkan.”

Well, it was as good a title as any other now that my drusse contract had expired, although the Lady part was a bit tenuous, no more than a courtesy title at best.

The tinkle of refined conversation stilled. Porcelain cups chinked against saucers. A score of painted faces turned towards me, eyebrows arched in polite surprise, looking like so many pale flowers on silken stems. Behind Yannassia’s gilt chair her bodyguard stood a little taller, eyeing me sternly, his hand straying to the hilt of his sword.

Drei was the only other man in the room, forest dark amongst these delicate hill country blooms, wearing a brocade coat I’d never seen before. When he saw me, he half started from his chair, a twin to Yannassia’s. His face filled with surprise, then reddened in anger before he subsided into watchfulness.

Yannassia showed no expression at all beyond polite attention. Years of training, no doubt, to achieve that level of control. She would need to teach Drei.

Lifting my chin, I strode across the room. I still wore the riding outfit I’d put on four suns ago, stained with mud and wet grass, and torn here and there by brambles as I’d walked through the forest. I was not much cleaner myself, and probably reeked of sweat and horse. My boots clunked on the marble floor, or fell silent when I crossed an expensive rug. I wondered how much mud I was dropping.

I stopped no more than three paces from Yannassia’s chair and made a low court bow.

“Thank you for receiving me at such short notice, Highness. I beg pardon for the intrusion.” I wasn’t sure what was the polite way to apologise for trailing mud over the floor, but it would have to do.

Yannassia bowed her head regally. “You are welcome at any time, Lady Kyra.” That seemed friendly enough. “You have urgent business, I understand?”

“I do, but...” I glanced around the room at the stately entertainment, the plates of cake, the polished silver pots standing on burners, the elegantly draped gowns and the curious faces watching me, whispering behind their hands.

“Then let us retire to discuss it.” Yannassia rose smoothly from her chair, and in a gentle rustle of silk everyone else stood too. “You will forgive me, ladies, but I must deal with this matter.”

She swept from the room, drawing a little train of fluttering attendants, her bodyguard, Drei and then me, while the guests bobbed and nodded at her passing like over-decorated hens.

We crossed a corridor adorned with glittering lamps – so much light in the middle of the sun! Then into another, smaller room filled with more comfortable though still ornate furniture. A score of marble-topped tables held vases of every conceivable size and shape and colour and style of decoration. On one wall a low fire burned, more for comfort than heat, for the Keep was never cold.

Yannassia chose a chair, Drei sat beside her and the attendants scattered themselves about the room. The bodyguard placed himself behind Yannassia’s chair again. I hadn’t been invited to sit, and so I stood in the middle of the room, as if I were on trial.

“Now, Lady Kyra, tell me your urgent business.”

I hadn’t rehearsed this, and for a moment my mind was blank. How to phrase it? A formal complaint? No, something more general. “I thought... I want you to know...” Blow it, just say it. “I’ve been kidnapped, Highness. I was held against my will. Locked in a cellar. By – him.” I pointed, not quite trusting myself to say his name even.

“Yet here you are,” Drei said, with an easy smile and a little laugh.

“Well, I escaped. Obviously. But you still locked me up.”

He shook his head, the little smile still touching the corners of his mouth as if he found my story amusing. I heard tittering amongst the ladies, and I could hardly blame them. It was far too melodramatic to be credible.

Yannassia was blandly impassive. At least she didn’t laugh at me. “Where was this cellar in which you were held captive?”

“My love, this is ridiculous...” Drei began, but she waved him to silence.

“At an estate in Ictharia about a half sun’s ride north east of here,” I said at once. “His mother lives there, and a brother and sister. The idea was to keep me there until I signed a new drusse contract.”

The room was silent now. I thought I saw the tiniest frown on Yannassia’s face before she smoothed it away. “Were you abused? Beaten? Injured in any way?”

“No, not at all. They treated me well enough, except for the locked door.” I knew what she wanted; an injury would be physical evidence, something solid to prove my story.

“It is some distance to Ictharia. How did you get back to Kingswell?”

“My horse was still there, in the stable. I rode back to the bridge over the Dissanthe and then cut through the forest to the Wemborth road. I left my horse at the Rising Moon inn there and took the public wagon back to Kingswell.”

She nodded thoughtfully. Drei was still smiling and shaking his head as if to say: what a crazy tale! To her credit, Yannassia was her father’s daughter, though, and she listened to me composedly without expression.

“Axandrei, what do you say to this accusation?”

I held my breath. If he denied it flat out, she would believe him and that would be the end of it. Only I could know for sure that he lied. But if he hesitated or prevaricated, she was smart enough to interpret that. Or at least that must be my hope.

“It is quite nonsensical, of course.” He licked his lips. “Kyra has quite misunderstood the situation. It is true that I took her to meet my mother – she is my drusse, that is a natural thing to do. But Kyra became quite irrational – hysterical, almost, and we deemed it best to restrain her until she had recovered.” A vivid blue flare betrayed the lie. Such a pity that only I could see it.

Yannassia’s eyes flicked from him to me and back again, no doubt struggling to reconcile the hysterical Kyra of the tale with the calm, rational version standing before her. She said nothing, waving him to continue.

“But there was no question of kidnapping, and, as you see, here she is safe and unharmed, if a little fanciful.” A smaller flash of blue.

“Indeed she is safe and unharmed, and we are all thankful for that.”

“I think we should ask her how she gained her freedom,” Drei said, with a sly glance at me. “If she was so securely locked away, how did she manage to escape all by herself?”

He must have guessed the answer to that, and he knew that I couldn’t possibly confess to using magic. Yet it was dangerous ground for him to step onto; if he tried to raise suspicions about me, I could just as easily drag him into trouble too.

“It was very easy,” I said, glaring at him. “
You
could have done much the same, if you’d been in the same situation.”

I hoped that would be enough to warn him away from risky subjects. Yannassia was sharp, though. Her eyes narrowed at the hint of evasion in my answer. “It is a good question. How
did
you escape?”

“The door was unlocked.” That was true, too, although I couldn’t be sure if I’d unlocked it myself or someone had forgotten to lock it. “I crept out when everyone was resting after the noon board. I found my horse in the stable and left.”

“And no one saw you?”

“Only the simpleton who tends the sheep. He thought I was just a guest.”

I could see her thinking it over, and realising that many of these details could be verified. There would be people at inns or the bridge gate or on the public wagon who would remember me. Even so, there was nothing to say that I really had been held captive. Undoubtedly the cellar would be restored to its usual state by now, and there would be nothing at all to prove that part of the story. I was simply visiting, panicked and fled. Just another crazy village rat.

“I will talk to Lady Kyra alone.”

There was a flutter of skirts as the attendants filed out. “You too, my love. No, no argument. Out.”

He kissed her hand with a flourish and left, but he had trouble concealing the scowl on his face.

“Now, Kyra, come and sit beside me.” A gesture towards Drei’s chair. “We must talk.”

She seated herself again, and slowly I made my way to the chair, perching on the edge. The bodyguard, the only other person left in the room, moved out from behind Yannassia’s chair to take up a position where he had a good view of me. His hand was firmly wrapped round his sword hilt.

“So,” she said, her voice devoid of all warmth, “you had better tell me exactly what game you are playing.”

I froze. I’d thought at least she was listening to me without prejudice, but now within a heartbeat she oozed hostility. Her voice was as chilled as winter rain.

“Game?”

“Why are you doing this? What is the point?”

“I want you to know what happened.”

“Why? Do you think to turn me against Axandrei, is that it? Are you jealous, Kyra? Do you want him all for yourself?”

“Of course not!” I almost laughed, it was so far from the truth.

“Or are you trying to hurt him? Is this some kind of twisted scheme of vengeance?”

“
Vengeance?
What do you think he’s done to me that deserves vengeance? He’s always treated me well – until now.” Or at least until he forced pregnancy on me. Did Yannassia know about that? She might not be quite so doting if she knew what he’d done. But her relationship with Drei was not my concern.

“So why? Why come to me with this – this fantastical tale? Who would ever believe such a thing of a man like Axandrei? Why would he kidnap you? He could find himself a score of women willing to be his drusse, why would he want you? It is hardly as if he cares about you. Who could? You are nobody, nobody at all, an ignorant village girl with a damaged reputation. So I ask you again: why tell me this?”

I was on my feet, although I couldn’t remember getting there. It wasn’t her words that made me angry. She intended to insult me, but it was no insult to be called a village girl, for that was exactly what I was. I had no quibble with her reasoning, either, for I had asked myself the same questions over and over. Why was Drei so keen to have me as his drusse? I didn’t know. It made no sense to me.

No, it was her manner that roused me. I know she was far above me in status, but that gave her no right to treat me like dirt under her feet.

“You demean yourself, Highness, in talking like that. It isn’t worthy of your position or your father’s trust in you to be rude to one lower than you. I’ve come to you in good faith, and you sneer at me. But I’ll answer your question anyway. I’ve told you all this not because of vengeance or jealousy or some stupid game. I’m not trying to turn you against him. You can have him, and welcome, although I suppose you ought to know what he’s like. I don’t even want him punished. No, I came to you because I want someone – someone I can trust – to know about it so he can never do this to me again. If ever I disappear in the future, I want to know that there’s someone in authority who will think of Drei and ask questions and start looking for me. That’s all. And now I’m wondering if this was a mistake, and maybe I can’t trust you at all.”

I waited for her anger. She had only to say the word and I would be arrested, thrown into a cell somewhere in the bowels of the Keep. Somewhere less easy to walk out of, undoubtedly. What was the punishment for insolence to the Bai-Drashonor? A flogging, perhaps, if I were lucky.

She smiled. The warmth was as instant as the sun popping out from a cloud.

“Excellent, Lady Kyra. A good answer. If you would care to sit down again, we can talk properly about this.”

I flopped back into the chair, although I’m not sure whether it was intentional or my legs gave out.

“Good,” she said, patting my hand. Her voice radiated sunshine. “Now, I must explain one or two things before...”

“Wait.” She stopped, one eyebrow jinked in query. I licked my lips. “I don’t think I... Were you
testing
me?”

She laughed. “I am so sorry. That was very rude of me, but I had to be sure. If you were making the whole thing up or twisting it, you would have had some self-serving excuse – revealing his true nature to me, or some such. But no. You want me to keep you safe from him. I quite understand that. So...”

“You believe me, then?”

“Well, of course. There is not a jot of deception in you, Kyra. But I think you do not quite appreciate the situation, so I should like to explain. Oh, do you want some wine? Or food? When did you last eat?”

I couldn’t remember. The house in the forest, perhaps. I’d meant to eat the leftovers they gave me on the public wagon, but I’d slept the whole way and forgotten the bag – a perk for the wagoners, perhaps. Yannassia called for a servant and in no time had rustled up a platter of pasties and cakes and tiny cheesy biscuits. While she talked, I ate as if I’d not seen food for a moon.

“Now, Kyra, let me explain the situation to you. You appreciate, I am sure, that my marriage is not a simple matter. Bennamore – indeed all the sun-blessed countries from the northern coast to the southern – keep themselves free from troublesome wars by strategic alliances. The heirs inter-marry and their heirs inter-marry with a different set of countries, and we are now so interwoven that no country can declare war on another without involving their own cousins. And there are trade agreements and so on as well. It is all very complicated, but effective. So I must marry someone from outside to continue the pattern. I spent most of last year in the southern ports, but that was never going to work. Too many tiny little holdings, all fiercely independent. An alliance with one of them would cause dissent rather than harmony. And the men—! Not my type, shall we say.