Path of Revenge (21 page)

It was Conal’s recurring vision: the queen receiving the essentials of faith from his hand, the devout priest of Hal. He knew his desire for this was partly selfish, and he repented of it. But he honestly wished for her redemption for her own sake, and for the sake of the thousands of Halite followers. If Stella Pellwen could be persuaded to receive the Fire of the Most High, who among men was truly beyond the Koinobia?

‘Our fervent hope is that the king does not suffer overlong,’ said the Archpriest, his words drawing careful glances from the physicians.
They do not understand,
Conal realised;
they think death is the end, and so fight it with their meagre resources.
Had Hal not shown the way beyond death?

‘Here we are, my lords,’ the servant woman said, knocking on the door. There was no response, not an
uncommon thing, apparently, since the queen had taken over the king’s care.

The Archpriest gestured, and Conal stepped forward. ‘Allow me,’ he said, and stooped to look through the small, grilled aperture in the door. He could see most of the room. There lay the king, eyes open and sightless, face drained of blood. Dead, clearly dead. And where was the queen? He craned his neck left and right, but there were one or two crannies he could not see into. A little further forward, perhaps…His head knocked against the grille, and the door unlatched.

‘Ah.’ Not barred, then.
Either she has accepted the inevitable, or
…He pushed the door open and stepped into the king’s high chamber.

‘The king is dead,’ the Archpriest announced.

At his solemn words the physicians rushed to the bedside, pulling their now-useless instruments from their bags.

‘Aye, the sainted brother of Hal has passed into the realm of fire,’ the Archpriest continued in his gentle, dangerous voice. ‘We will grieve for him, and the kingdom he leaves behind, at the appropriate time. Sadly, his queen has abandoned him.’ His voice dripped with feigned disappointment. The man had never taken the queen’s redemption seriously, in Conal’s opinion. ‘She has avoided those charged with setting watch on her.’

The servant woman turned to him and curtseyed nervously. ‘My lord, I came up to the door only an hour ago. The doctors came with me. They will tell you she commanded me to leave.’ She turned to them, an imploring look on her face.

The senior of the two physicians raised his head from whatever he was doing with the body. ‘We will say no such thing. We saw nothing, heard nothing but this woman bidding us return down the stairs, saying that the queen had waved us away.’

‘But…’ The woman seemed to shrink under their regard.

‘I will testify that I did not hear the queen speak. The Koinobia may draw any conclusion it sees fit.’

Fat tears rolled down the woman’s cheeks. ‘My lords, I want the witch to pay for her crimes just as you do.’ Her voice shook. ‘I would not…would never help her escape. On my life!’

‘As it shall be,’ intoned the Archpriest solemnly. ‘The Koinobia will determine the truth of this. You, woman, will accompany Conal here to his sanctum and answer his questions truthfully. We will know if you lie.’

‘I will say what you want me to say,’ the servant said in a flat voice.

‘The truth, no matter how much more might be achieved by falsehood.’

‘Yes, lord.’ This on the edge of hearing.

‘Are you sending me away, your eminence?’ Conal controlled his anger. World-changing moments were by definition rare, and he did not want to be excluded from this one.

‘You are a stubborn reed, for all you feign obedience.’ Dark, cold eyes held him effortlessly. ‘How far must I bend you before you become truly pliant, I wonder? You shall take the woman for questioning, but you may not question her yourself. Give her to Narl, with instructions to show more restraint this time. While he is busy you will retire to your sanctum and copy out the seventh scroll in its entirety, then burn your copy. You have many lessons to learn.’

‘Yes, my lord.’ His anger drenched in fear, Conal supposed he made a show of humility, but his lord would not be fooled. He made to leave the chamber.

‘On further thought, you will wait a moment longer. Search this room for any clue as to the queen’s
whereabouts. Thoroughly, with a single mind. Am I clear?’

‘My lord.’ Singlemindedness, the Archpriest’s lodestone.
Let nothing else distract from the task at hand, and the task will be completed successfully.
Conal began his search, feeling more like a servant than a senior figure in the Koinobia.

His lord turned to the physicians. ‘There remains much to be done. One of you must go to the Pinion and report King Leith’s death. The bell must be rung, the citizens must be told. A great man has left us today, and your services are of no use now.’
If they ever were,
Conal almost heard him add.

The two physicians looked at each other. The older of the two nodded, then packed up his bag and left without another word.

The younger man turned to the Archpriest, a knowing look in his eye. ‘I know what you will ask,’ he said.

‘Oh?’

The physician’s confidence surprised Conal, causing him to look up from his search. Was the man really that clever?

‘Say on.’ The Archpriest wore an inscrutable look.

‘The answer is no, there is no evidence the king’s death has been hastened. We cannot be certain, of course, but none of the telltale signs are in evidence.’

A clever man indeed, knowing what his master sought and not making him ask for it. The Archpriest obviously thought so too. ‘Do you believe?’ he asked the physician.

‘I believe…a number of things, my lord. Not all of them are compatible with Halite teaching, but I do honour to the deeds and memory of the Mahnumsens, older and younger.’

Clever and brave. Talents wasted on a physician. Despite his anger, Conal found himself intrigued by
the young man, surely no more than his own age. He continued his search of the chamber, half an ear on the conversation.

‘Then you will know how important it is that we locate the queen as soon as possible. Not just for her sake, but for all those who might otherwise become your patients, or even end up beyond the reach of your arts, in this time of uncertainty. You are a physician. Do you see how you might save many lives in the next few hours?’

Conal watched the man rise slowly, saw comprehension spread across his pinched features.

‘I do, though I do not do the bidding of the Koinobia unless I believe it to be sound.’ Brave indeed.

‘I
bid
you to do nothing. I
ask
in humility. Please, sir physician, find the queen. Accept any aid the Koinobia can offer. Keep her safe from the mob, those who would take our teachings to the extreme and find themselves tempted to exact vengeance upon her body. And when you consider what should be done with her, keep the safety of my personal sanctum in mind.’

The man said nothing, just nodded intermittently as though working through the Archpriest’s words in search of fishhooks. No need for such hooks: men of principle were more likely to be lured and held by the truth spoken without guile. As this man had been lured and held.

‘You may hear from me,’ the physician said, and took his leave. Conal followed the man, pulling the frightened servant woman along by the hand. Of such business, distasteful as it was, the Kingdom of Hal was made.

A single bell began to toll as Robal led Stella through the Dock Gate and out of Instruere’s warren of lanes
and alleys. Six heartbeats between each peal. All around them dock workers, sailors, warehouse workers and other citizens of Instruere put down their tools and burdens and turned and faced towards the source of the sound, the Pinion’s great bell. The Pinion had once been a dungeon, but was now used as the city’s guardhouse, and stood a good half-hour’s eastward walk from where they stood. The silence and stillness increased between each tolling, until the only other sound was the faint murmuring of the Aleinus River surrounding the city.

‘We have to wait,’ Stella said as the guard made to move on. Though she knew how many times the bell would toll, she found herself counting. Thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three. On and on it rang, silence and sound intermingled, tolling out the sum of a man’s life. Eighty-five, eighty-six, eighty-seven. The last peal hung in the air long after it should have faded. A deep silence fell, stretching on as Instruere honoured its king, people all around Stella wiping tears from their eyes, holding each other, standing unnaturally still. The queen found she had reason to regret her uncharitable thoughts up in the tower chamber.

A touch to the shoulder freed Robal from the stasis. Stella nodded to the nearest dock, where a dark-skinned woman stood with three boys, their hats held over their hearts. They had the look of the Wodrani: leathery, outdoor faces, braided hair, narrow eyes. The queen decided to try her luck.

‘Madam?’ she called as she drew closer to the dock. ‘Would you accept a commission?’

‘Hush’m,’ the woman replied, speaking from the corner of her mouth. ‘Cain’t you b’seein’ and a’hearin’ respeck we b’payin’ the king?’

‘I’m sorry?’ Stella had no idea what she’d been told, but guessed the words had contained censure of some sort, given the look on the woman’s face.

‘My ma says for you to shut up until she’s finished paying respect to King Leith,’ said the youngest of the three boys, no older than ten. ‘So shut up.’

Stella closed her mouth on the ready retort she had fashioned, and signalled for Robal to do likewise. They waited patiently beside the Wodrani.

After a few moments Robal rose up on his toes, stared intently at something in the distance, then bent down to whisper in Stella’s ear. ‘Beg pardon, your majesty, but there are guards pouring through the Dock Gate.’
Looking for you,
he didn’t have to add. They both turned to the Wodrani woman.

‘Bester king ever of all,’ the woman said, and slapped her rumpled hat back on her head. ‘We river traders ha’ never had years like’n these, allpraise to the king.’ She spat something she had been chewing onto the ground, turned to the boys, nodded, then walked towards the end of the dock and the barge waiting there.

Stella tried again, panic edging her voice. ‘Please, madam, we would like passage on your vessel.’

‘Ma steers, and you’ll find none better on the river ‘tween here and the Gates.’ It was the youngest boy: the older two scurried after the woman. ‘But she don’t do the deals. Deals are man’s work. I do the deals.’ He fixed them with an intense stare, one eye screwed shut. ‘The hold’s full, but we could take a couple’a people upriver. That is, if they weren’t an Instruian Guard and the blessed Queen o’ Faltha.’

‘Oh,’ Stella said. She glanced over her shoulder: the guards had begun a systematic search of the docks and warehouses. She turned back to the boy, who winked at her.

‘O’course, what I know and what m’brothers and Ma know are different things. Where to, and what’re you offering?’

‘Upriver, as far as you’ll take us,’ Stella replied urgently, ‘and we’re offering this.’ She tipped the
contents of her small bag into her hand, then held up a diamond brooch between finger and thumb. ‘Far too much for the passage, as you can see, but I have nothing of lesser value.’

The boy shook his head slowly. ‘Ma will know something’s up if I show her that. Never mind. Come on board while I figger something out.’ He wiped his nose with his hand, then held it out. ‘Deal?’

Stella did not hesitate. ‘Deal.’ Relief coursed through her body as she shook the boy’s dirty hand.

The three boys untied the ropes, shifted the cargo and poled the barge into the Great River. Ma stood in the stern, hand on the tiller, a constant eye searching for anything amiss. Stella and Robal found a place amidships, hunkering down between bulky crates.

‘Always ready, slow and steady,’ the youngest boy cried as they eased the barge out into the tidal river. ‘Sun and moon, get there soon,’ the other boys replied as they poled.

Four pairs of Wodrani eyes swept the river ahead, while two pairs of Instruian eyes closed in grateful relief. So it was that six pairs of eyes did not see the small boat drifting up-tide behind them. Nor did they see the veteran guard finish his turn at the oars and hand them over to the young priest.

‘THIS IS EXQUISITE. A theological argument in the middle of a river. Are all the guardsmen in Instruere like you, or am I just particularly unlucky?’

‘Unlucky? Your majesty, had you chosen to seduce any other guardsman, you would be hearing a great deal about weaponry and the state of the Instruian walls.’

‘Seduce you?
Seduce
you?
You
were the one who made the suggestions. Since the moment you realised your mistake I’ve kept you at arm’s length, and you will not be getting any closer.’

‘And do you think by avoiding my question you will also avoid thinking about the issue?’

‘Why were you not appointed to the Council of Faltha by the King of Straux? You could have kept them amused for months.’ She smiled at him to take the sting from her words. ‘We’re only three days upriver from Instruere. I could always get this boat turned around, go back and exchange you for someone who makes sense.’

‘Avoiding the issue, my mother always said, is a sure sign the issue needs to be discussed. So answer my question, your majesty, if it please you. Whose son was Hal?’

‘All right. Hal was brought up by Mahnum and Indrett, my father- and mother-in-law. They found
him abandoned as a child. After Hal’s death we uncovered the identity of his mother. Tinei was a local woman who fell pregnant because of a particularly vicious abduction and rape. The father is unknown. How does this aid us in our discussion?’

‘Unknown, my Queen? That’s not what the Halites say. They say that Hal is the child of the Most High.’

‘Really? Do they really think that the Most High caused Tinei to be with child? I hope not, because she suffered abominably. The attack left her a cripple. She died before we ever left Loulea.’

‘Hal’s father is the Most High,’ Robal said stubbornly.