The Goblin War (14 page)

Jeriah was handsome himself; he knew exactly how to use it, and how little it really mattered. Koryn wasn’t even pretty, though he’d come to see a kind of beauty in her fey angular face, in the thin awkward body that was far too slight to hold a hero’s spirit. He’d see her soon. . . .

Jeriah shook off the thought. First he had deal to with the girl who rode beside him, this strange, half-wild girl commander who didn’t even seem to know she was beautiful. Perhaps it came from spending most of her life among goblins, but her utter indifference to her looks was more effective than the way most girls tried to flaunt whatever beauty they possessed.

He didn’t think the Hierarch would harm her, but just in case . . .

“I’m not going to put your chains back on,” said Jeriah. “But if I’m presenting you as a prisoner, and Master Lazur’s victim, it might be better if I tied your hands.”

He did so just before they reached the fourth gate, which admitted them to the palace grounds. The look she gave him before she turned her back and extended her wrists for the rope made Jeriah very aware that she was submitting to this of her own free will—he was not in charge.

It didn’t give him much confidence as he pulled her up the steps to the third-level terrace, which was the lowest level of the palace itself, and asked a clerk where Master Zachiros might be found.

It turned out that the secretary was attending the Hierarch, who was meeting with several councillors in a closed session on important Realm business.

“The Hierarch’s meeting with the council?” Jeriah tried not to sound incredulous. The Hierarch he had served had been incapable of meeting with anyone “on business.” The drugs Master Lazur had given him had befuddled his mind so thoroughly that the secret could be kept only by shrouding him in layer after layer of formality. He must have recovered far more swiftly than Chardane had expected.

“Yes,” said the clerk. “The Hierarch frequently meets with the council now. I think he decided to take more control over secular matters after that priest betrayed him. We’ve had to send most of the personal petitioners back to the lower courts, and the wait for a hearing with the Hierarch himself is backed up for weeks. Are you certain the lower court can’t help you?”

The Hierarch had recovered! He must have recovered completely, or almost completely, and a great burden lifted from Jeriah’s heart.

“Let me talk to Master Zachiros,” he said. “He’ll determine whether I should see the Hierarch or not. Can you let him know I’m here when they take their next break?”

The clerk admitted that they were due for a break soon, and he went off to inform the secretary’s assistant.

Makenna was watching Jeriah, speculation in her dark eyes. “If he’s meeting in closed session with the landholders, that means his mind has cleared, doesn’t it?”

“How do you know . . . Oh.”

“Aye, Cogswhallop told me everything as soon as he’d a moment to spare,” she said. “But he said that your herb-healer priest, Chardane? He said she wasn’t certain if the Hierarch would recover, or how fast.”

“Yes, but the fact that he’d been drugged for the last seven years is a state secret that . . . that . . . It’s a really big secret!” Jeriah told her. “You mustn’t mention it to anyone, under any circumstances, ever!”

The girl snorted. Given that she and her goblins had been fighting the Realm for the last five years, she probably didn’t care about their secrets.

“It would break people’s trust in the Hierarch, in the church itself, to learn that their ruler had been so badly incapacitated, and that we, ah . . .”

“Faked it,” said Makenna cheerfully. “I must admit, I was impressed by the tale.”

“Keep your voice down,” Jeriah snapped. “Even in the palace, only a handful of people know the truth.”

Fortunately the clerk came bustling back and told Jeriah that Master Zachiros would meet with him and his prisoner, in his own office, in five minutes. The clerk also sent a guard with them, even though he knew that Jeriah knew the way.

The secretary stood in his office doorway, watching for them, and greeted Jeriah with a beaming smile. “Come in, dear boy, come in. How was your stay with your parents? It must have been wonderful, since you were gone so long. We’ve been so busy here, I hardly noticed the time passing—though we could have used you, indeed we could!”

Looking from the spectacles that slid down his long nose to the floppy slippers on his feet, Makenna’s mouth quirked contemptuously. Jeriah noted the warning directness in the secretary’s bright gaze and answered cautiously.

“I didn’t spend all that time with my family, sir. I’ve got a lot to tell you.”

“Oh, I can see that,” said Master Zachiros cheerfully. “But perhaps we can discuss it in private. You and your, ah, companion?”

“I have orders to stay with the prisoner, sir,” the guard put in. “Until the others arrive.”

“Others?” Jeriah asked.

“Whose orders?” said Master Zachiros.

“Wait,” said the girl. “I want to speak to the Hierarch myself. That’s why I came. To talk to him or whoever’s in charge.”

“Lord Brallorscourt’s orders,” said the guard. “He . . . Here they come now.”

Jeriah turned. Four more guards marched down the corridor and came to a stop before Master Zachiros.

“Is this the sorceress of the Goblin Wood?” their leader demanded.

“Why do you care?” Jeriah asked. This wasn’t going the way he’d planned.

“Yes,” said Master Zachiros calmly. “And as you can see”—he gestured to the girl’s bound wrists—“she’s my prisoner.”

A frown creased the guardsman’s brow. “Lord Brallorscourt put out the order that if she ever showed up, we were to take her prisoner. His prisoner.”

“Then I’ve beaten him to punch!” Master Zachiros said. “Jathan, take this young woman down to the palace dungeon. No need to be rough about it. She won’t make it necessary. Will you, my dear?”

“But I want to talk to the Hierarch!” Makenna protested. “I’ve got to—”

“You’ve got to go with Jathan now,” said the secretary calmly. “Or you’ll never get your chance.”

“Lord Brallorscourt said we were to take her to his town house,” Jathan protested.

“And if she was his prisoner, you no doubt would,” Master Zachiros said. “But since she’s my prisoner, she’ll be housed where I say. I’m sure when you explain it to him, Lord Brallorscourt will understand.”

This was clearly a matter above Jathan’s rank. “Whatever you say, sir.”

“As for you, my girl,” Zachiros went on, “I’m afraid you have to go with this nice guard, who’s going to show you to a comfortable cell. And Jathan? She’s not to speak to anyone along the way, and she’s not to have any visitors. Not unless I personally approve them.”

“But—” Makenna began.

“Come along, mistress,” Jathan said, taking her arm and leading her down the corridor. “I’ve orders to see to your comfort and treat you with proper respect—as long as you cooperate.”

“But—”

Next time she wouldn’t underestimate the mild-looking secretary. Jeriah bit down a smirk as Master Zachiros ushered him into the office, and the older man’s foolish cheer dropped away. “She knows about the drugs? Given who your helpers were, I thought she must, but it’s a great pity. We don’t dare allow her to reveal that to anyone.”

“Well, I didn’t tell her,” said Jeriah. “And without my helpers, the Hierarch might still be drugged and none of us would know the truth. But what in two worlds is going on with Brallorscourt? Why would he want to take her prisoner? I didn’t think he knew she existed.”

“I have no idea. But she’s safe in my custody, and I’ll soon find out what Brallorscourt’s interest is. In fact, he’ll probably be hammering on the door and telling me all about it as soon as he learns I have her.” The secretary shuffled to a chair and lifted his sore feet onto a stool, while Jeriah found another chair for himself. He’d once burgled the desk in this office, but he now felt amazingly at home. And the secretary’s foolishness was an act; Jeriah knew he was both kind and just, and had the Realm’s best interests at heart.

“I’m more concerned about what
she
knows,” the kind and just man went on. “This is a girl who once went to war against all humanity. If she’s still so inclined, she could do the Realm a great deal of harm simply by revealing our secret.”

“I don’t think she’ll do that,” said Jeriah slowly. “I think there’s something else she wants. The goblins didn’t try to free her, all the way here from the northern woods, and that has to have been on her orders.”

“So she’s up to something,” Master Zachiros summed up neatly. “But you don’t know what it is.”

“That’s true,” Jeriah admitted. “But if you ask her, she might tell you. She doesn’t like me, but she’s not much of a schemer. Oh, she can plan out a battle or a raid, but she’s really very straightforward.”

“Unlike the two of us,” said the secretary. “But you don’t have to dissemble with me. What
were
you doing on the border?”

Jeriah thought he was straightforward, though given how many lies he’d told lately . . . He told Master Zachiros everything he’d learned about the barbarians and handed over the army commander’s dispatch.

The frown in the bespectacled eyes deepened. “This is tricky. And the Bright Gods know it’s important, but I’m afraid it may do little good right now.”

“But his mind has cleared, hasn’t it?” Jeriah asked. “I mean, if he’s meeting with the council . . .”

“Oh, his mind has almost entirely cleared,” said Master Zachiros. “It’s his spirit that concerns me. There are days, my boy, when I think it’s not safe to ask the Bright Gods for anything.”

This was the man, Jeriah remembered, who had prayed for the Hierarch to survive a terrible fever, only to see him do so with his mind—supposedly—destroyed. He must have prayed for the Hierarch to recover from the drugs too.

“Can I see him?” Jeriah asked. “I promised to deliver this report, and I have to try—”

“Oh, you’ll certainly do that!” said Master Zachiros. “In fact, your arrival is very timely. The council has been discussing these matters, and its break is about to end. Come along, dear boy.”

For a man with sore feet he moved swiftly, whisking Jeriah through the maze of marble corridors and down a servants’ stair to the big chamber where the Landholders’ Council met.

Jeriah had wanted to talk to Koryn, to get another intelligent view of what was going on in the palace, before he approached the Hierarch. Frankly, he’d planned to use that as an excuse to convince her to speak to him. To let him explain . . .

But Master Zachiros was right. This opportunity was too good to miss.

A number of men were milling about—influential landholders, clerks, courtiers, servants. Jeriah knew many of them by name. Even Nevin’s scowl, as he looked up and saw Jeriah approaching, was familiar.

But it was the man beside whose chair Nevin stood who commanded Jeriah’s attention. As he stepped forward and knelt before the Hierarch, sky blue eyes focused on his face. And recognized it.

“Jeriah! Jeriah . . . Rovan, isn’t it? I thought you were visiting your family.”

“Yes, lord,” Jeriah said. “I’m sorry I was gone so long.”

The Hierarch’s broad hand waved dismissively. It was covered with rings that Jeriah had placed on those fingers and later removed, as if their owner was a child. “I’m sure your leave was well earned, and I remember your kindness during my illness.”

My illness.
They’d had to admit that Master Lazur had tried to drug the Hierarch, in order to bring him to trial for it, but they’d concealed the fact that he’d succeeded in doing it for seven years. Jeriah knew that Master Lazur himself had never revealed that truth, in all the long days of his trial. It would have harmed the Realm. Even when that Realm was about to hang him, that had still been the priest’s paramount concern. Now, it seemed, drugs were no longer even being mentioned. Jeriah fought down a shiver. The Hierarch remembered his “kindness,” so perhaps . . .

“I’ve done more than just visit my parents,” said Jeriah. “In fact, I’ve gone from one end of the Realm to the other since I was here last. On your business, Sunlord.”

After that, they could hardly help but ask why.

Master Lazur had suppressed the information that the barbarians could heal themselves. The fact that the barbarians possessed magic that the Bright Gods’ priests couldn’t defeat undermined the very foundations of church theology. Having seen the situation on the border, Jeriah didn’t give a tinker’s curse about church theology.

He told the Hierarch and the council the full story of all he’d heard and seen during the barbarian attack, and also about the report from the army commanders he’d given to Master Zachiros.

“But you can read what they have to say for yourself, sir. And the council should also know exactly what our army is facing.”

“That the enemy uses black sorcery is hardly surprising,” said the Hierarch. “The Bright Gods will no doubt show us how to defeat them in due course. Though your report does raise some questions we should consider.”

“Helping the army overcome its challenges is the proper business of both the Hierarch and the council,” Lord Brallorscourt interposed smoothly. “Your assistance is appreciated, Rovanscourt, but I’m not sure it was necessary.”

A snicker ran through the room, and Jeriah flushed.

“It’s Rovan,” he said. “My brother’s still alive. You were wrong about that, just as you were wrong about—”

“My squire’s intention was to protect me, the Realm, and the church,” the Hierarch interrupted firmly. “He shall be given credit for that.”

Jeriah hadn’t been going to say anything indiscreet. But if the Hierarch decided to silence him . . .

“I’ve brought you more than information, my lord,” said Jeriah hastily. “Though that information comes directly from commanders who are fighting the barbarians on the border of our Realm. A border the barbarians have already pushed back once. As you would hear from the Southland lords, if they hadn’t lost so many of their numbers.”

The Hierarch frowned. “That does seem unjust. Perhaps—”

“The rule that to be a landholder a man must hold the land is the tenet on which the council was founded,” Lord Brallorscourt said. “I put it to you, Sunlord, that only a few weeks recovered from a devastating illness is not the time to change a law that’s been in place for over a thousand years!”