The Shadow Of What Was Lost (55 page)

The man looked at him in shock
for a few moments, then vanished from his doorway, retreating into the gloom of
his cell.

The jailor called out from his
desk. “Nonsense words, lad,” he confided. “Ignore him. That one’s scheduled for
the lower dungeons - he’s just here temporarily. We think his mind’s gone. Only
stands to reason the first thing he says since being locked up is gibberish.”

Caeden frowned. He hadn’t
understood what the prisoner had said, but the sound was too regular, too
structured to be nonsense. And the language was... familiar. As if, if he
concentrated hard enough, he might be able to ascertain the meaning of the
prisoner's words.

“Who is he?” he called out.

Caeden could hear the jailor
spitting on the ground. “Name’s Ilseth Tenvar,” he said. “He had something to
do with that bad business in the schools recently. Not sure what, exactly; they
don’t tell me much. But he’s supposed to be in here, don’t you worry about
that. Not a man you want to be making friends with.”

Caeden nodded, though mostly to
himself as he knew the jailor couldn’t see him. He stared at the cell across
the hallway, trying to see into the murk. He remembered Davian and Wirr talking
about this man. The one who had tried to send him the Vessel.

And Tenvar had seemed to know
him, to recognise him, despite what the jailor said.

He settled down in the corner to
wait, knees drawn up to his chest, all the while keeping a close eye on the
cell opposite.

Despite the two layers of thick
steel bars between them, he did not feel particularly safe.

***

It was hours later when someone
finally unlocked his cell door, escorting him back to the main tunnel.

He smiled in relief when he saw
Taeris waiting for him.

"What did they say?"

Taeris scowled. "Exactly
what Haemish said. There's no proof. There's no indication that the Blind are
anything more than men. Helping you is too much of a risk." He shook his
head in disgust. "Their theory is that the Blind are a race of people
descended from us - from the Andarrans that were trapped behind the Boundary
during the Eternity War. The Council agrees that they're dangerous, but not
that they are anything... worse. "

"So they won't restore my
memories?"

"They were almost willing
to, and then...." Taeris sighed. "I have a long history with the
Council, Caeden, and that has gone against us. I'm sorry for that. A few of
them argued that the risk was worth it. Some even believed me, but most of them
are just... angry, at the moment. They feel betrayed by the king. The argument
was, why take a chance restoring your memories for the good of the city, when
the city doesn't even seem to want their help."

"But they're in danger too,"
Caeden protested.

"They don't see it that way.
Tol Athian withstood everything Vardin Shal and the Loyalists could throw at it
during the Unseen War. They don't believe the Blind will be any
different."

Caeden was silent for a moment.
"So what now?"

"We go to the palace. I was
speaking to Aelric and Dezia earlier today, and they think there's a chance
they can convince the princess to help. With her influence behind us, we might
still be able to change some minds at the Tol."

Caeden gave Taeris a dubious
frown, remembering the disdainful way Karaliene had looked at him in Thrindar.
"Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"I never said it was a good
idea," observed Taeris dryly. "But it's the only option we have right
now."

They walked out of the Tol. It
was mid-afternoon, and the streets were busier now. Taeris appeared lost in his
own thoughts, but eventually Caeden tapped him on the arm.

Taeris turned. “What is it, lad?”

“I have something to ask you,”
Caeden said hesitantly. “I heard someone say something in the dungeons. I
couldn't translate it, this time, but... it sounded like the same language the
sha'teth use. Is that possible?”

Taeris frowned. “I don’t know.
Maybe,” he said slowly. “Do you remember what they said?”

Caeden screwed up his face,
trying his best to remember the words. “
Dreh Kaaren si, sha tehl me’athris
dar
.”

Taeris' eyebrows rose. “Honoured
lord, has the time finally come,” he translated. His expression became focused.
“Who said this, Caeden? This language is… old. Rare.” He stopped, forcing
Caeden to look him square in the eye. “It’s important.”

Caeden shook his head, suddenly
sick to his stomach. “I don’t know. I couldn’t see them from my cell, just
heard the words,” he lied.

Taeris bit his lip. “I know
Ilseth Tenvar was in those cells,” he said, almost to himself. “But it sounds
like perhaps Athian has more than one traitor in its midst.” He started walking
again, lost in thought.

Caeden stared after him for a
moment, then trotted to catch up, grimly returning his attention to the road
ahead.

Perhaps the Council had been
right not to trust him after all.

Wirr stared up at the palace
gates with trepidation.

In times of peace they stood
open, an invitation for anyone, no matter their rank, to come before the king
or one of his Judges and have a complaint heard. They were shut today, of
course. Several guardsmen stood at attention in front of them, and assembled in
a vaguely threatening manner when Wirr and the others approached.

“Move on,” said one, a
grizzled-looking veteran that Wirr didn't recognise. His tone was firm. “Only
members of the court or those with appointments may enter today.”

Aelric raised an eyebrow. “Don’t
recognise me, Ethin?”

The man stared at Aelric for a
moment, then started. “Young Shainwiere!” He rescanned the group, his eyes
coming to rest on Dezia. “And your sister. Of course, of course." His
gruff manner had vanished, and he was all smiles now. "My apologies.
Princess Karaliene asked that you and your party be brought to her as soon as
you arrived, no matter the time, day or night.”

Aelric hesitated. “I’d... hoped
to get cleaned up first.” He indicated his clothes, which were showing the wear
and tear of travel, not to mention the odd bloodstain.

Ethin smiled. “No offense Aelric,
but if it’s a choice of displeasing you or the princess, you’re out of luck.”
He slapped Aelric on the back in a familiar fashion. “I heard you did well at
the Song?”

Aelric made a face. “Not well
enough, I’m afraid.”

Ethin gestured for another guard
to open the gate, then led them through. “Second's still an impressive
achievement, lad. And there’s plenty of years left in you, too,” he said
cheerfully. He glanced across at Dezia. “I trust you’re well also, Dezia?”

Dezia smiled. “Just glad to be
home, Ethin.”

The guardsmen closed the gate
behind them. “I hope we can keep it that way,” he said as they headed into the
grounds. “You’ve heard about the Blind, of course?”

Aelric inclined his head. “We
crossed paths with some of what they left behind. It was not pleasant.”

Ethin nodded, expression solemn.
“It will be a relief once General Jash’tar and the rest of our men have dealt
with them.” He glanced around, then lowered his voice. “Just a warning - the
Houses haven't been especially happy with things lately. General Parathe has
been having some issues keeping the troops that are still here in line, and the
king... well, let's just say that Karaliene will be glad to see you. She could
use some friends about now.”

Wirr listened with interest. That
the Houses were causing problems was hardly surprising, and certainly nothing
new... but Ethin's tone had indicated something more was going on. Something
serious.

They made their way through the
palace corridors. Little had changed; every time they rounded a corner Wirr
found himself reliving another childhood memory. He’d played with Karaliene in
these halls. He smiled briefly as they passed a large floral vase on a
pedestal. That was at least one thing that was different; as a child, such
decorative displays had been removed, lest they meet an accidental demise at
his and Karaliene's hands.

But those days, unfortunately,
were long gone. His smile faded as his thoughts returned to what lay ahead.

Ethin guided them to the
princess’ quarters, pausing outside to let Karaliene's attendant know who was
there to see her. After a moment inside, the woman returned.

“The princess will see them
immediately,” she said to Ethin.

Ethin nodded. “Time for me to go
back to my post, then,” said the grizzled guard. He nodded to Aelric. “Good to
see you again, lad.”

Aelric smiled. “You too, Ethin.”

Wirr, Aelric and Dezia entered
Karaliene’s chambers. Wirr was surprised to see that they were relatively
unadorned; the princess had been fond of decorations and finery in her earlier
years. Karaliene herself reclined, apparently at ease, in a chair over to one
side – but the dark circles beneath her eyes, covered though they were with
makeup, betrayed her. Wirr had never seen her looking so tired.

She gave a brief smile when she
saw them, a glimmer of relief flickering across her face before her usual calm,
composed look was restored.

“You may leave us, Nelisi,” she
said to the older woman, her tone polite but firm. The attendant curtsied and
shuffled from the room.

As soon as the door had closed
Karaliene leapt from her chair, her smile returning. “You’re safe!” she
exclaimed, hugging first Dezia, then Aelric, then Wirr. “It‘s been so long, and
with the Blind coming….” She let out a deep breath.

“It was a near thing, Your
Highness,” said Aelric. He waited for the princess to sit, then sat in one of
the chairs opposite. He peered at her, eyes narrowing. “You look exhausted.” He
paused, reddening as he suddenly remembered who he was talking to. “I
apologise, Your Highness. That’s not to say…”

Karaliene, much to everyone’s
surprise, threw back her head and laughed. She quickly contained her mirth, but
traces of amusement still played around her lips. “That might be the first
honest thing I’ve heard in weeks,” she said, shaking her head. She gave Aelric
a rueful smile. “You can dispense with the formalities, Aelric. Nobody can hear
us in here. And, honestly, you’re no picture of health yourself.” She gestured
pointedly to Aelric’s torn and bloodstained clothes.

Aelric smiled back in relief,
happy she hadn’t taken offense. “I’m just glad Ethin recognised me.”

“That was a stroke of luck,”
agreed Karaliene. She paused, looking at Wirr. “What of the others you were
travelling with?”

"Taeris and Caeden went to
Tol Athian, to see if they are willing to restore Caeden's memories," said
Wirr. He looked at the ground. "Davian... didn't make it."

Karaliene's smile slipped.
"I'm so sorry, Tor."

There was silence for a few
moments, and then Karaliene glanced up at Aelric. "You know who this is,
now?"

Aelric just nodded, looking
slightly abashed.

"Good. Then I don't need to
tell you again how important it is to keep the details of your journey a
secret?"

"No. We won't say
anything," Aelric assured her.

Karaliene nodded her
acknowledgement, then looked at Dezia, smiling. "I'll hear all about the
trip later, I'm sure... but first I should catch up with Torin."

Dezia inclined her head, then
grabbed her brother and pulled him out of the room.

"So," Karaliene sighed
once they had left. "It seems I owe you an apology."

Wirr raised an eyebrow. "How
so?"

"You warned me about the
Boundary. Weeks before the invasion." Karaliene grimaced. "I should
have listened."

"You believe me now?"

"I believe at least some of
it - and I'd be foolish not to at least consider the rest. There have been no
signs of any dar'gaithin, but the things we've been hearing about the
Blind..." Karaliene shook her head.

"And my father?"

"Isn't sure what to think at
the moment. I told him you'd ended up in Desriel because you were investigating
the Boundary, and that you'd promised to explain everything to him when you got
back. That at least got him thinking about where the Blind might be from."
She looked him in the eye. "He's going to want to know everything,
Tor."

"I know. But I've already
figured out how to tell him most of the story, without letting on about Taeris
and Caeden." Wirr hesitated. "I assume you didn't tell him...?"

Karaliene snorted. "That you
were travelling with a man he'd sentenced to death? Of course not."

"Good." Wirr exhaled.
"Because I told Taeris to come here, if he wasn't successful at the Tol. I
told him that we might be able to help... convince the Council of Caeden's
importance, if necessary." He held up his hand as Karaliene made to
protest. "Only if they fail, in which case they'll have no other option. I
didn't offer without giving it some serious consideration, Kara. We both know
that there are ways you can pressure the Tol without ever having your name
brought into it." He stared at her pleadingly, willing her to understand. "Caeden's
key to all this; we need to help them any way we can. As long as they both stay
out of Administration's sight, it shouldn't be a problem."

"Except that I will
knowingly be giving one accused mass murderer, and one convicted one, free
access to the city!" Karaliene looked at him in disbelief. "I said
that I believed there was something to Sarr's claims, not that I thought he was
in any way trustworthy. I don't feel comfortable with this, Tor."

Wirr grimaced. He'd hoped he
wouldn't have to do this - hated the thought of tainting Davian's name even
just with Karaliene, who hadn't known him. But Davian was dead, and Taeris and
Caeden needed help.

He took a deep breath.
"Taeris made a false confession, three years ago. He didn't kill those
men." He quickly, bleakly explained the true events of that day to
Karaliene, who listened to the story in silence.

"You believe him?" she
asked once he was finished.

"Yes. It all fits -
everything from why Administration thought he'd broken the First Tenet, to how
he got his scars."

Karaliene sighed. "It would
explain much," she admitted, still sounding reluctant. "It's hard for
me to make a judgment for myself - but if you honestly believe that's the
truth, then I will too. Should Taeris and Caeden require it I will reach out to
some of my contacts, see how much we can lean on the Council without them
knowing who's behind it." She frowned at him. "But before I do that,
I expect to speak to your new friends. My help
will
be conditional. And
I hope neither of our fathers find out, else fates save us both."

Wirr exhaled in relief.
"Thank-you, Kara. I owe you," he said sincerely. Then he leaned
forward in his seat. “How
is
your father?”

Karaliene looked sick. “What have
you heard?”

“That he's been ranting against
the Gifted. That it doesn't seem like he will be willing to change the Tenets,
no matter the cost.” Wirr frowned. “It doesn’t sound like him.”

Karaliene sighed. “It’s not,” she
said, pain evident in her voice. "He's... sick, I think. I can't explain
it. One moment he'll be fine - almost normal - and then the next he'll fly into
a rage. He's always tired, and paranoid about everything and everyone.
Especially
Tol Athian. When word of the invasion came, he thought it was a trick. A trick
by the Gifted to get him to change the Tenets.” She shivered. “That was his
first
thought.”

“Why would he think that?”

“I don’t know.” Karaliene rubbed
her forehead. “He refuses to believe the Blind are a real threat to the city,
despite what they’ve done so far. He virtually ignores your father, and I'm
finding it harder and harder to get past his guards to see him, too. He won’t
even listen to Laiman Kardai half the time, and those two have been friends for
near twenty years." She hesitated. "He sweats, his skin is grey, he
often doesn’t eat his meals. People are saying it's just stress, but... I'm
worried.”

Wirr felt a chill. “You think the
Blind have something to do with it?”

Karaliene gestured. “I don’t
know; that’s the problem. I tried talking to him about it, and he just laughed
it off.” Her face twisted. "And I daren't bring it up with any of the
Houses."

"Not if you don't want a
coup on top of everything else," agreed Wirr.

Karaliene nodded tiredly. “So
there you have it - it's been a long couple of weeks. But fates, it’s good to
have you back. I’ve missed you.”

Wirr grinned. “Missed you too,
Kara.” He raised an eyebrow. “So what now?”

Karaliene gave the ghost of a
smile. “Now, we get to have a feast to celebrate the return of Torin Andras,
back from his glorious triumphs in Calandra. I’m sure the generals here will be
dying to hear of your exploits.”

Wirr groaned. “Is that really
necessary? There
is
an army coming this way, after all.”

Karaliene shrugged. “The Houses
will think that more of a reason, not less. Partly because everyone wants a
chance to become your new closest friend, of course. And partly because most of
them are fools, and they’ll welcome any chance to ignore what is happening
rather than confront it.”

Wirr laughed. “It
has
been
a rough couple of weeks, for you to talk like that.”

Karaliene rolled her eyes. “You
have no idea. They’re vultures, Tor. You would not believe the number of
none-too-subtle offers I’ve already had to make me queen. At a price once it’s
done, of course.” She shook her head in disgust. “Regardless. They will all
want a feast. And it will look suspicious if you return to too little fanfare.”

"Wonderful," said Wirr
dryly.

Karaliene raised an eyebrow.
“You’re going to have to get used to this again, you know.”

 “I know.” Wirr bit his lip.
“Speaking of which... I should probably go and see my family. No-one else knows
I’m back except for you.”