Days Of Light And Shadow (30 page)

Chapter Forty Seven.

Iros sat at the table and pretended to be interested in the meal. But he just wasn’t, and he used his fork simply to push the fragrant pieces of rabbit from one side of the plate to the other. He had tasted a couple of pieces, and in sooth they were good, but already he felt ill. He felt the touch of Corpus himself upon his flesh. If he ate any more he knew he would be sick.

In any case there were more important things to discuss than the food. More important than even his dinner companions’ conversation. To them of course, it was the most important thing as they caught up on things not spoken of in months or years. And even for him it was good to hear.

In some ways it was hard to listen to them discussing family matters as if it was the most normal thing in the world. Of course to them it was. But in others, just the understanding that some still had families was a blessing from the Divines. It was the very reason he’d wed Sophelia, and she him. To let those families continue. Maybe later he decided, by the light of the full moon, he’d visit the graves of his own family again, and lay a few more fresh cut flowers on them as he whispered his prayers to the Divines. Soon enough he would be resting with them.

For the moment though, there was business to discuss. Things that his wife had to be told. That her family had to know as well. Just in case. He coughed, discretely, until he finally got their attention.

“You should know that my cousin has been found alive and well, and his family with them. I have of course sent for them to attend me in the coming days.”

The two elves, his wife and his brother in law as he silently corrected himself, stared at him, not understanding what he meant. They understood that what he had said was important. More so than just that he had found someone to call family and bring to the castle. But not why.

“Why have you sent for your cousin?” Sophelia seemed genuinely curious for once. Almost happy. Maybe there was hope that she was finding her stay in Castle Drake not so terrible any more. After all a woman couldn’t weep forever. Or maybe it was just the effect of having her brother with her again. Even if it was for only a few days.

“I must make plans for the succession.”

“Succession? But you are lord for life.”

It was funny how Sophelia’s sky blue eyes could become so wide when she was worried, and suddenly they were very wide. And she had good reason to be worried. Just when she was adjusting to her life among the savage humans, to learn that maybe she would no longer be Lady Sophelia of Drake for that much longer. She would become a woman of no status and no house at all. Neither Drake nor Vora.

Still she had to have thought of it. Her retinue should have discussed it with her. His position as Lord of Drake was tenuous. He was lord by default, his family dead. He should not have become lord for many years to come save for the war. And he had no heirs, and no prospect of any. That was enough to make many question his fitness. But worse, he was wed to an elf. To an enemy. No heirs would ever have been accepted by the people, and the moment even the suggestion that they were on their way had been made, there would have been protests.

And then there was the fact that he was dying.

He wasn’t completely sure that she understood that. He hadn’t spoken to her of it. It was a private matter. But surely the signs were obvious. The weight loss, so great that his bones now poked out everywhere. His inability to even stand on his own, he had to have guards to carry him everywhere. And the wounds all over him, only half healed. Whatever foul demon it was that had found a home in his flesh, some days he imagined it was Corpus himself, was destroying him day by day.

The physicians didn’t know what was wrong with him, and all of their potions and spells seemed in vain. But he knew. The reapers were calling for him.

“My life may not be that long.” He smiled at her, less bothered by the thought of dying than the idea of leaving her and her attendants in danger. Her family too. It was a matter of honour. He would not die in failure. So he had told her what he had overheard in the high lord’s chamber. Of what Y’aris and Finell had said. But she hadn’t seemed to believe him. “But you will be well cared for after I am gone. I have seen to that.”

“Your wounds are not healing?” Sophelia had stopped eating, her fork hanging half way between the plate and her mouth. And maybe there was even a trace of concern in her words. Maybe even for him as well as her.

“Not as they should, and the physicians say I will be unlikely to survive the winter. I must make plans for that day. The people must be kept safe, the town strong and well defended for when the war comes.” Actually he suspected he would be unlikely to even reach the winter. Fall was still some way off.

“But you will like Heriot and Estelle. They are good people, and they will not cause you upset. They are true Drakes, and they will uphold the law.” At least he hoped that they would. But he hadn’t seen his cousin in a very long time, and when he had Heriot had been less than keen on even setting foot in the castle, or Greenlands. He far preferred big cities and grand homes in the sun. He liked his sea views and days spent basking in the sun while servants brought him endless drinks. Not rustic castles and peasant farmers.

“I had no idea.” Her sky blue eyes fixed him with something akin to sadness. “In any case there will be no war. No one could want that. Not again.”

“Your cousin wants it.” Why did he keep having to tell her that? It should be obvious to all. “I heard him and Y’aris speak of it as I lay bleeding on the floor of his chamber. As I have told you. This peace was always only a stay. They seek to regroup, to find an answer to the cannon, and then to strike again.”

“And you seek to strike before him.”

“No.” He wished she might have known him a little better by then, to know that he spoke the truth, but her distrust wasn’t a surprise. In the month since they had arrived in the town they had scarcely seen one another. She stayed in her wing of the castle, he in his. It was easiest that way. They only ate together in the evenings, and then only occasionally, when he sent a servant to ask for her attendance. And usually that was to discuss specific matters. It was a strange thing to realise, but they’d probably seen more of each other in Leafshade before they were married than since.

“All my work is done in defending the people. Building walls and earth buttresses. Cannon emplacements. Since the fall of the more southern towns Castle Drake and Greenlands have now become the border between your people and mine. It will be held. Finell’s soldiers will come like the tides, and when they do they will break before our walls.”

“I am sorry if that causes you pain. But I promise you, if they do not come the armies of Elaris will not fall.”

“As do I sorrow,” Herodan responded. “But Lord Iros is right sister. Finell will attack again. Of that there can be no doubt. It is only the when that is in question.” Iros stared at his brother in law in surprise. For one not only of her people and her family but also of the diplomatic profession, to say such a thing in front of an outsider, surely that had to say something. Something that surprised Iros. Maybe it also spoke loudly of why Herodan was no longer Finell’s envoy in the realm. Why he had been dismissed so nastily. House Vora was no longer as united as they had once been. Regardless Iros was glad to have someone, anyone believe him. But still it was not what he needed to tell them.

“Sophelia, you will be safe here after I am gone. Greenlands will stand firm no matter how many attack, and I have seen to it that you will retain the title of Lady Sophelia. I have also ensured that you will keep your quarters in the castle if you so desire, and that there will be a regular income for you even if you should choose to leave. Enough that you should be able to live a comfortable life wherever you choose.” Iros handed her the papers, all signed and witnessed. She would need them soon he suspected.

“Thank you.” Sophelia nodded to him, her face carefully formal but perhaps underneath she knew a little sadness for him. It would be nice not to die unwept. And he noticed that she didn’t even glance at the papers, perhaps out of respect. Still she could probably do that later.

“No thanks are needed. You made a brave sacrifice in marrying a human without a house. You helped save many lives. And I understand some of what that must have cost you. I cannot restore your place in Leafshade. I cannot return you to your old life. But I can hope that this will help you to find a new life. One that you can find comfortable.” And after all it wasn’t as if the gold would be of any use to him. And he didn’t have any heirs. So he had given his personal wealth to those that might make use of it. Sophelia and Juna. It was the right thing to do. It was the only thing.

The silence stretched for a while after that, and Iros knew he had probably spoiled the dinner for them. He decided that it was probably time to leave. He had work to do and they had things to discuss. But before he could make his excuses, Herodan spoke up.

“I am sorry to hear of your illness. I did not think it so severe.” Maybe he was merely well versed in the diplomatic arts but Iros could almost imagine that he was truthful in his sorrow.

“It is a small matter. My family are gone and I will join them soon enough. But before then I need to be sure that the people are safe. The fields of Greenlands may well burn again, but the people will be safe and in time can return and rebuild. Your sister will be cared for. My duty will be done. That is all that truly matters.” In the end it was all there really was any more. Since learning of his family’s deaths on the ride home, his world had become a very bleak place. He had only his duty to sustain him and that wasn’t really enough.

But he was still doing it. Going through the motions every day as he prepared the town for war, training the soldiers, finishing the wall, buying the cannon and crossbows, endless crossbows. Seeing to it that the infirmaries were properly stocked and staffed. Replanting the blackened fields and providing artisans to help in rebuilding the houses and shops. Paying for all of that with the gold held in the treasury. Gold that was swiftly being spent. Still if by the time he was gone the town was once more back on its feet and the people prepared, he would have something to be happy for.

And he had done right by his wife as well. Iros knew that she was every bit as much a victim in this as he was. And he knew that no matter what else happened, her life was ruined by their marriage. She would never be able to return to her home. If she even had a home to return to. He still remembered vividly the words spoken between Finell and Y’aris that day, and he knew that her family, the high lord’s own family were in mortal peril.

It was why he had sent for Herodan, the next member of her household to be sacrificed by an evil war-master and an angry child king. It was why he had sent him word of what had been said even earlier. Sophelia had lost her home, her status and her family name. She should not have to endure the loss of her family as well.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me. I have duties to attend to and you two surely have better things to speak about than my ill-health.”

“Of course.” Herodan spoke for both of them as he stood and bowed respectfully. A remarkably human custom. Clearly he had spent a lot of time in the city, learning his Court manners.

Iros gestured and the two men at arms quickly came to his side, grabbed him under the arms and helped him to his feet. It still annoyed him that he couldn’t do that by himself, but again as the sages said, it was necessary to remember what one could do, not what one couldn’t. And what he could do was prepare. In the end it seemed, that was all he could do. It had to be enough.

“The library.” Quickly they half carried him in the direction of his aides, and soon he was gone from the family dining chamber, and the awkwardness of the dinner was behind him. The difficulty of commerce and war lay ahead in the form of his captain and advisors, all of whom were patiently waiting for him. In sooth not that patiently.

But among them at least he knew what to say.

Chapter Forty Eight.

After Iros had left Herodan turned back to his sister, terrible questions in his heart.

“Lord Drake looks gravely ill.” In sooth he looked far worse than that. He looked to be opening the door for the reapers. But Herodan did not want to upset his sister, and he could see the worry in her. It could not be an easy marriage, but as hard as it was it was surely better than the alternatives. An elven widow trying to run a human province. Or an elven widow with a name not hers, trying to find a new life in Leafshade or elsewhere. Neither of those things could be allowed to happen. It could only end in disaster. Her marriage was a disaster and yet it was still the best fate for her. She needed Iros to stand by her.

“He is. And in terrible pain. Some days when he is alone he cries out as his bones burn, thinking no one will hear him. But they do and the servants mourn for him already. And in his sleep such as it is, he burns some more, and each morning the servants have to change the sweat soaked bedding. And the physicians here, they can do nothing for him. Not even for the pain.”

“Lord Iros has not recovered from his time in the dungeon?”

“No. He seemed to, for a brief moment. A few days early on perhaps. But it did not last and his wounds did not fully heal. They have still not healed.” It was exactly as Herodan had feared. Exactly as the whispers the other missions brought him had said. And that was a sad thing. Iros was owed a life debt by him, and it seemed that he might not be able to repay it.

“He loses weight with every day that passes. He grows more gaunt. He does not eat.” She looked at him, her eyes so wide with worry that it unnerved him. “How can he heal if he does not eat?”

“I am sorry sister, but it is as I feared. He cannot eat. If what I have been told is true, there was witchbane in the balm the healers rubbed on his wounds. A final farewell gift from Finell and Y’aris.”

“No! … No! … No?” Sophelia looked up at her brother, horrified by what he was telling her. “That cannot be. My cousin would not do such a thing.” But Herodan knew that she knew he would. That he had. She just didn’t want to admit it. Finell was not the innocent child he had once been. After the loss of his parents it seemed he had grown into a man of less and less decency. And with the death of Elwene it seemed that last spark of goodness had died. He had never had any honour to begin with.

“He would and he did. Iros’ death is assured. The poison just takes longer when applied to the skin. But he does not have many more months.”

“By the Mother! How few? It will be bad?”

“It will be very bad.” Herodan stared at the table, not sure if he should tell her. She should not have to hear such terrible things. But there was little else to do. “He has the night fevers now. They will get worse. His joints burn, and that will get worse as well. In a few weeks or a month, but not two, he will start bleeding from the eyes. Then will come the blindness and the unrelenting torment as all his bones catch fire, until the mercy of death finally takes him.”

“Sweet Mother, that is evil.” Herodan said nothing, there was nothing to say. But he was sure she knew his heart spoke the same words.

“Finell is the true utra. Troll blood through and through.” Sophelia was only speaking the truth of course, and of their own kin, but it didn’t help. He was still their lord. He still commanded the loyalty of the people. And worst of all he was of House Vora. What little of it remained.

“In too many ways to count sister. It shames me that we are of the same house.” For a time they sat there in silence, neither knowing what to say, and the only sound was that of the servers as they took away their half eaten meals. But finally Herodan broke the calm to ask a question that he had been dwelling on for some time.

“Your marriage, it is not too hard?” No brother wanted to know that his sister suffered. In that elves and humans were completely alike. And Herodan was no exception. He was painfully aware that their marriage had been forced upon them. That it was no natural thing. He had known that the instant King Herrick had come to him and asked of it. But  like Iros himself he suspected, he had said to the king that it was a good thing. A sign that Finell truly sought peace. Even if he doubted it, it had to be said. But still he felt shame for those words. He would feel much more when his cousin did launch his next attack, and as to what his sister would feel he couldn’t even begin to guess. Her supreme sacrifice tossed aside by an evil child. Maybe it was lucky that Finell’s family were gone. So that they didn’t have to witness their son’s evil.

“Iros has treated me with nothing but respect. More than I deserve.” Sophelia meant every word he knew. It still shamed her that she had been so unkind to Iros as he suffered in the dungeon. And that she had known pleasure at his suffering. And more so when this very evening he had brought him to her, kept safe and well as he had said he would ask him to be. True to his word in everything he said and did. She had told him of her shame at length that afternoon, tears flowing freely with every word of her confession.

“And of the private moments?” By the Mother he wished he did not have to ask that question. He had avoided asking it all afternoon out of cowardice. He did not want to know the answer. But he had to. Their mother would demand to know.

“There are none.” Sophelia stared right into Herodan’s eyes taking him aback. “Iros has given me a wing of the castle for myself and my attendants. I have scarcely seen him since I have been here.” Her words caught Herodan by surprise, and his eyes widened more than a little. That there had been little between them he had expected. When Iros was so ill it was understandable. But none? That he had not considered.

“Then there will be no children?”

“There will be no children.” And maybe that was a good thing. After Iros passed, and assuming the castle and titles went to his cousin as planned, she would be free to leave. Free to return to their family, and with a little gold. But if she did he knew that she would still always be a disgrace to them. A woman who had once been wed to a human. An indecent affair. Children born to such a union would suffer terribly for their birth. And no others would ever want to marry her again. Worse House Allel would consider her presence in the city an insult.

She could not truly go home. They both knew that. Whatever happened with Iros and his plans for her future, her life had been ruined by their unfortunate marriage. It had doomed her to a life outside of Elaris. Herodan knew it. So too did their parents. And still none of them could have stopped it. None of them had even been able to argue against it, though they hated Finell with a passion for forcing it upon their family.

And now Herodan knew, he might actually have to make things harder for her again.

“Then I must ask your permission little sister.” Herodan suddenly couldn’t look at her, and that was unusual for him. He could normally hold his head high to anyone.

“Go on.”

“You know that a life debt is owed by me to your husband.” Sophelia nodded warily, obviously worried by what he was going to say, but still knowing it was true. Even if she had not told him of what her husband had told her he had done as he was being arrested, Herodan had been told the same by King Herrick himself. He had shouted it at him even as he’d made him read the message on that terrible night.

Iros had been the one to urge civility and respect for the codes even in the face of those who denied him all such law. Even when his people were being put to the sword, when their mission was attacked and burned, and when he was about to be dragged away to a dungeon like an animal, he urged civility. In large part because of Iros, Herodan and his mission had been allowed to continue their work.

It had not been easy. They had been guarded closely, escorted whenever they went out anywhere, prevented from carrying so much as a knife, and limited in the places they could visit. And of course they had been screamed at by a very angry king. But they had not been imprisoned and tortured. They had not been murdered and their mission had not been burned to the ground. For that a debt was owed.

“I would repay that debt if I can.”

“Go on brother.”

“There may yet be a way to save Iros. The witch, Trekor Aileth. I can ask for her aid.”

Sophelia stared at him, clearly shocked for a moment, and probably wondering why he was asking at all. If the swamp witch could help him then he should have asked for her help at once. It was honour if nothing else. She knew that as well as did he. But then she understood. He saw the knowledge growing in her eyes. He was asking her if she could continue to live like this, because if Iros lived, so too did their unfortunate marriage. If he died then she was free. Disgraced but at least free, and with a title and some gold. Still there was never a choice and he should have known that she would know the same. Honour did not allow for a choice. And even in disgrace House Vora would remember its ancient honour.

“Ask her.”