The Sleeping King (53 page)

“How did you kidnap a dryad, then?”

Selea shrugged. “It was not my first time to work in the Forest of Thorns.”

Aurelius stared, stunned.
To work?
Selea had been there before to assassinate someone? But who? The only known dwellers of the place were Boki—

“You assassinated a Boki?” Aurelius blurted.

Selea frowned sharply as if to say that Aurelius knew better than to ask such a thing directly. And indeed he did. His solinari mind raced.
Who among the Boki would rate an Imperial assassination other than a thane, and a high-ranking one at that? Who on Urth would contract and pay good gold to see a thane killed? Who could use internal strife among the Boki to his or her advantage—

Anton
.

If he asked any more questions, Selea might very well get up and leave, and Aurelius desperately needed Selea to agree to help him. Instead, he commented lightly, “You have known for a long time, then, the true nature of our governor.”

Selea said not a word, but very slowly, very subtly, nodded his head in the affirmative.

Unbelievable.
Anton had assassinated one of the thanes, either to sow discord among the Boki or to make way for a thane he supported. Was it possible that the governor had been in collusion with the Boki for all these years? How was any other conclusion possible? But, of course, there was not a shred of proof. Writs of assassination were strictly secret and stayed secret even after their execution. The guild would never cough up the writ, even to prove Anton's complicity with the Boki.

Aurelius's mind whirled over the scale and audacity of Anton's corruption.
And Selea had known about it all this time.
No wonder the nulvari had bent his ironclad rules of honor to protect Aurelius and to hang Aurelius's knight out to dry instead. Selea must have sensed Aurelius's deep disapproval of Anton right from the beginning and decided a Mage's Guildmaster who disliked Anton and would thwart him at every turn was more important than sacrificing a bit of his honor … and a knight. Aurelius, frankly, was humbled. He knew just how seriously the nulvari took their honor.

“You are silent a long time, my old friend,” Selea said gently.

Aurelius took a moment to trace back the thread of the conversation. They'd been talking about how they each gained entrance to the closely guarded Boki grove. He shrugged, “And then you joined us in the clearing. You know the rest.”

Selea wasn't about to let Aurelius get away with that. “Actually, I would like to hear your version of ‘the rest.' I saw several things I did not understand that day. I have wondered much about them.”

Rather than tell all, Aurelius took instead the tack of asking, “What didn't you understand?”

“We found the underground chamber and went in. What were those creatures that attacked us?”

Aurelius closed his eyes and saw the beasts as clearly as if it had been yesterday. Some resembled mythic creatures, but most were simply grotesque. He answered honestly, “I do not know what they were. The stuff of our worst nightmares.”

Selea frowned. “When we cut them down, they transformed into those ghost-like things.”

Aurelius winced. Here went another guild secret. But he could probably justify it to his superiors as the sort of information a top-flight assassin could conceivably need someday. “I believe those were phantasms. They took the shape of our worst nightmares and when they neared death, they reverted to their natural forms.”

“Dream creatures?”

Aurelius nodded reluctantly. Thankfully, Selea pressed no more on that subject. Instead, he asked, “They were calm at first, but then raged all of a sudden. What set them off?”

“We must have touched some trigger or set off some sort of trap.”

“What was that door on the far side of the room? I thought I saw writing upon it.”

Aurelius exhaled carefully. “Neither I nor Tiberius ever made it across the room to take a close look at it.”

“What did those creatures guard, then?”

“I do not know.” Another half-truth. The door—or more accurately the place it led to—was undoubtedly the thing they guarded. He changed the subject smoothly. “As you well know, the phantasms chased us out of there before we could do much besides fight, and then run, for our lives.”

Aurelius schooled his face to its most passive, relaxed, open expression. He dared not make eye contact with the oh-so-perceptive assassin, and stared into the fire instead.
Please, by the Lady, let him not ask any more questions.
The door might have been across the room, but the writing upon it had been large and clear. Only he and Tiberius out of the four men in the room had the skill to read the magical writing, and read it they had.

The door was definitely extra-planar in nature and involved transporting people to someplace … else. He and Tiberius had talked and talked about it on the return journey to Dupree. Their best guess was that the place behind the door was not the treasure itself. Rather, whatever—or whoever—was in that place beyond the door was the great and closely guarded secret of the grove.

And now, all these years later, every portent the fates could throw in his path pointed back at the grove.

“What do you propose to do, Aurelius? Broach the guardians and attempt to gain entrance to the grove once more?”

He leaned forward, looking intently at his companion. “We know what we're up against, now. Why not try it?”

“I am thinking of retiring, not embarking on heroic quests.”

Aurelius made a face at him. “Your skills have not diminished an iota. On that I would bet my life. You are not called the Emperor's Blade for nothing.”

Selea rolled his eyes. “I assure you, the greater part of my reputation is speculation and rumor.”

“Which makes your work that much easier.”

“I repeat. I am retiring.”

Aurelius leaned back, commenting sardonically, “Of course you are. Assassins are always left to their old ages in peace. Once you declare yourself out of the game, no old vendettas will come looking for you. You can let down your guard and relax. Why, I wager you won't even bother to carry a dagger, will you?”

Selea came as close to a glare as he ever did to any real expression.

Aurelius grinned unrepentantly. “As I was saying. You and I could do it. We could get into that grove again and discover its secret. Furthermore, I think we're supposed to. The hand of some greater power is clearly at work here.”

“And perhaps we are a couple of vain old fools, wishing to be in the thick of events once more, manufacturing portents and signs that tell us what we wish to hear.”

Aurelius huffed. “I'll grant you that we may both be vain, but when did you become old or a fool? The last time I checked, I was neither.”

Selea shook his head. “We were lucky last time to escape with our lives. Very lucky. Do you not remember the Boki guards ringing the grove? Or those trees snapping their branches back and forth like giant whips? How are we to defeat them? And once past them, how are we to vanquish the nightmares and phantasms?”

“I believe they will make way for us. I think they want us to find whatever's in that chamber.”

Selea exclaimed, “And now you are mad in addition to old and foolish!”

“Mayhap I am. But do you not wish to know the secret? To give it one last try?”

Selea shook his head. “No. I wish to live out a long and quiet retirement.”

In desperation, Aurelius threw his final argument at Selea's feet. “I may not know what is in that grove, but I know this. It is extremely valuable and powerful, else it would not be defended thus. Do you really want it to fall into the hands of Anton Constantine?”

“You are so sure he'll make a run at it?”

“I wouldn't bet a shaved copper that it won't be the first place he goes once he reaches the Forest of Thorns.”

Selea sighed heavily. “I wouldn't take that bet, either. My sources speculate that he has an agenda beyond defeating the Boki in this foray to the Forest of Thorns.” He was silent a long time. Aurelius waited him out. Finally, with deep reluctance, Selea said, “If Anton moves on the grove, I will stand with you.”

Aurelius nodded. There was no need for handshakes between them to seal the deal. A nulvari's word was given. While Selea stared morosely into the fire, Aurelius went to the door and called for food.

They talked of inconsequential things over supper. But when they had finished eating and pushed their plates away, Selea commented without preamble, “Why did you send the boy in that direction? Do you suppose Tiberius told him where the grove is? If so, why not let him have a go at the chamber? After all, he's expendable.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

Selea looked startled, which meant he was mightily surprised indeed.

Aurelius continued reluctantly. He hated to open up yet another touchy subject with Selea so soon after gaining a major concession from him on the last one. “The seer I hired said a few additional things in her forgotten trance. She said the son would fulfill the father's fate and the daughter would refuse the mother's fate. What if the son is Tiberius's boy?”

Selea let out a long-suffering sigh. “What kind of nonsense is that? This is why I never deal with fortune-tellers or soothsayers. They babble enough to make you think your gold was well spent.”

Aurelius grinned reluctantly. “You're probably right. But still. To have Tiberius's boy emerge out of the blue, having crossed paths with the Boki … It was Ki'Raiden himself who led the raiding party if the boy's report is to be believed. You have to admit it does look more than a little like young Will is the son who would fulfill the father's fate.”

“And the girl?” Selea asked.

“I have no idea whom the fortune-teller spoke of.”

“De'Vir's boy has a good head start upon us.” Selea sighed heavily. “I hate having to travel fast.”

*   *   *

During a lull in the conversation, many of the young kindari made their way outside to smoke their long, thin pipes. Cicero, Kendrick, and Eben joined the exodus, and on their way out pried Will away from Rosana's side to join them.

Raina made her way to where the white-haired elder sat in a chair of bent wood, intricately woven. “I would ask you a question, good sir.”

He gestured to a low cassock at his left elbow and waited silently as she perched upon it and composed her thoughts. “What can you tell me of the Green Lady?”

The elder answered readily enough, “We are thankful to the Green Lady for all of her gifts.” He shrugged. “She is the living heart of our lands, the trees, the stones, the creatures all. She whispers in the winds. She paints in the blooms. How does a lady of pages come to know of the Lady Green?”

She spoke carefully. “I have heard this name in conjunction with other names. References to beings who would protect the land from … outside influences.”

“What beings?” he asked directly. Bluntly.

She sighed.
So much for delicacy.
“The Mythar, for one.”

“Ahh.”

She waited, but the elder added nothing more. Finally, she asked, “What can you tell me of him?”

“The words of my people are for my people alone.”

“Why not? Does not the land belong to all of us and all of us to it? Why would a guardian of the land not be the guardian of us all?”

The elder stared hard at her. She became aware that abrupt and total silence had fallen among all the kindari within earshot. He planted his chin on his fist and stared into space, deep in thought. An elf nearby cleared his throat and, when the elder glanced up at him, gave a tiny jerk of his head to indicate that he should get rid of Raina so they could talk.

She intruded upon the silent exchange with quiet determination, “This matter concerns me directly. I would prefer to remain for the entire discussion, if you please.”

Looking intently at the necklace she always wore around her neck, the kindari elder asked, “What have pages taught you of this Mythar, little flower?”

If she wanted answers, she was clearly going to have to come clean with this elf. She answered reluctantly, “I wish to find him and wake him up. I need to borrow some of his magic to solve an old and vexing problem within my family.”

Exclamations of shock and dismay erupted around the fire.

The elder's mouth twitched with suppressed humor. “We wonder if the flower can survive the storm that is to come.”

Someone said from the darkness beyond the fire, “She is not of the Green. This is not her path—”

Raina cut the voice off with a smooth diplomacy her mother would have been proud of. “But many paths can lead a person home. The problem within my family is dire and I will walk this path to the Mythar with or without your help.”

Silence fell, interrupted only by the quiet crackling of the fire.

“What ails your family, little flower, that needs the Mythar to cure?”

Raina winced mentally. “I have need of olde magick to wake someone who can release my family from an ancient promise. Until then, the women of my family are trapped into unwilling servitude to this promise. You can ask Cicero if I speak truly.”

The white-haired one replied mildly, “No need. I recognize clear skies when I see them and know full well that thunder follows lightning.”

“Will you help me?”

“If this be your path, little flower, we cannot walk it for you. But we can give you signs to guide your way.” The elder looked around at the gathered elves, who seemed to have increased greatly in number all of a sudden. “Speak now, Children of the Bear if you challenge my telling of the old words.”

The silence that followed was turbulent, disgruntled even, but no one broke it.

The elder gave a short nod. “It is settled.” He shifted to face her more fully. “From the time when the Green was new again pass the words of legends old.”