Storm and Steel (7 page)

“What is it?” he asked.

Byleth banished the handmaiden with a curt gesture and then crumpled up the scroll, throwing it on the table. “A caravan was attacked by a band of rebel slaves. They seized the gold that was intended for our royal coffers.” She glared at him. “Gold we need to fend off our enemies.”

“I am truly sorry. Was anyone hurt in the attack?”

“Hurt?” she yelled. “The soldiers guarding that convoy had better be dead, or they'll wish they were when I flay the skin from their backs and nail them to stakes along that road as a reminder of what happens to those who fail!”

Horace let out a silent breath, not sure what he could say that wouldn't fuel her rage. But she didn't give him the chance. “First Sword, you will issue an order in our name at once, pronouncing death for anyone who harbors or aids the rebellion.”

Horace frowned. Such an order would be a death sentence for Alyra and her associates, as well as, he suspected, thousands of Akeshian commoners. It would begin a persecution that could last months or years.
Not unlike what the Great Crusade intends for this empire. She doesn't understand what she's asking me to do.

Byleth stood up. “If you are going to remain in Erugash, you will obey our commands. Or you will face our displeasure.”

Defeated, he bowed his head. “As you wish, Excellence.”

As she left the room, Byleth called over her shoulder. “Rest well, Lord Horace. We depart for home in the morning.”

The beauty of the villa gardens was haunting by night, when the darkness blurred the outlines of blossom and leaf, and their lush fragrances rode the cool breezes. Alyra walked the narrow paths between the bowers with quick steps, down to the western edge where many secluded nooks and niches could be found. Her ears strained at every turn, half-expecting to stumble upon illicit lovers in fierce embrace or, worse, cloaked conspirators hatching nefarious schemes. But the luck of the Silver Lady was with her, delivering her without incident to the spot of her own secret assignation.

She found Sefkahet standing by a pond. Moonlight reflected off the still waters, bathing the woman in silver luminance. Alyra cleared her throat, and Sefkahet turned. Then she smiled. “I'm glad you reached out to me.”

Alyra came over and stood beside her, both of them looking down into the brilliant surface. “I'm sorry we haven't spoken in so long.”

“Don't worry, Alyra.” Sef bent down closer. “I'm the one who knows you best. Now, are you going to kiss me, or do I have to beg?”

Alyra was too distracted to really want it, but she hadn't seen her friend and confidant in weeks. So she allowed Sef to lean in for a kiss. After a few seconds, she pulled back. Sef ran her fingers up and down Alyra's arm. “I've missed you. I won't ask where you've been, but I'm glad you're back. Please say you can stay for a bit.”

“For a short while. I needed to see you.”

“I like how you say that.”

Alyra moved sideways to avoid another kiss. “Not for that, Sef. I need to talk.”

The other woman stepped back and composed herself in a flash. “All right. You got my attention, Alyra. What's wrong?”

“I've been investigating the massacre at the Chapter House.”

Sef's eyes widened. “In Erugash? Alyra, you shouldn't be poking around in that. The queen was livid when the news reached us. If she ever found out—”

“I've been careful. Trust me on that. But have you heard any details on the murders of the Order brethren?”

“Just a few things through the network. Every member of the house was killed in a single night. Sentries outside heard strange noises, but nothing to suggest a battle was being fought within the fortress until the Queen's Guard forced an entry and found the bodies.”

“I've seen the bodies.”

The revelation poured out of her, unleashed by the mountain of anxiety that had been weighing her down for the past fortnight. “They were ripped apart as if a pack of wild beasts had torn into them. But not with teeth or claws.”

“Weapons,” Sef said. “Knives and pinchers, perhaps.”

Alyra shook her head and looked back down at the pond. “No. Nothing made by human hands could've caused the wounds I saw.”

“You mean it was sorcery. But Alyra, most of the queen's court was here with us when the attack happened.”

“Indeed. And outside the court, what other group in Erugash has the power to slaughter dozens of men, most of them sorcerers to boot, without the neighbors noticing?”

Sef shook her head slowly, her recently won composure falling away to reveal deep concern. “If you're right, you realize what it means. Outsiders must have infiltrated the city. How is that possible? The wards on the wall and gates—”

“I know. It's crazy to even consider. But it's the only theory I can come up with. That's why I needed to talk to you. To get advice on how to proceed.”

Sef frowned as her head tilted to the side, allowing her hair to fall down from her face in a lustrous black wave. “You mean you wanted to talk to the network.”

“Before, I would have taken this directly to Cipher,” Alyra said. “But after what happened…”

“No, it's all right. I understand. But I can't pretend this came from me. My superiors are going to know someone supplied it, and I'll have to tell them the truth.”

“I accept that.”

“Does this information come with the price? Shall I tell them it's a peace offering?”

“No. Just say I thought you needed to know.”

Sef stepped closer again and caressed her arms. The touch was exhilarating, but Alyra fought it. She knew what Sef wanted, and some part of her wanted it, too. But things had gotten messy between them, mixing the mission and their personal feelings for each other. Alyra had tried to break it off, but every time she saw Sef, the feelings returned in full force.

“Stay with me tonight,” Sef breathed into her ear.

“I can't. You know the other handmaidens would talk, and it would mean a mess of trouble for both of us if the queen found out.”

“Then I'll come to you. After the queen retires for the night, I can slip out and—”

Alyra took a long step backward, breaking free of Sef's touch. “No.”

Sefkahet looked as if she wanted to keep pursuing, but she held back. “Why not? You said you missed me.”

“I do. But this can't go on, Sef. You're still with the network, and I'm outside.”

“But it's not that, is it? It's him. Night was right. You've fallen for him. Alyra, he doesn't know you like I do. He can't love you the way I do.”

Alyra turned away to hide the tears forming in her eyes. “It doesn't matter. I know what I have to do, and I'm doing it. I can't have you in here.” She
touched her chest. “It's too painful trying to juggle everything. Please. This isn't easy for me, but it's what has to happen.”

She waited for a response, but there was nothing except the stirring of the leaves in the wind. Alyra turned back to find Sefkahet was gone. The darkness closed in tighter around her as if a blanket had fallen over the moon. Standing by the pond, she let the tears fall.

Horace looked both ways down the corridor as he knocked on the door again. It was late—almost midnight—but he needed to see her. His head was awhirl, and he needed to make sense of it all. And it started with her. He knocked a third time, but still no answer. He placed his hand on the latch. After a moment's hesitation, he opened it.

“Alyra?”

He pitched his voice low so it wouldn't echo out into the hallway. Her room was dark and small with only a narrow bed against the far wall. A bag with a carrying strap sat at the foot of the bed, clothes spilling out. Horace went over to the bronze lamp fashioned in the shape of a dolphin hanging by a chain and felt it. It was warm, but not hot. She'd been gone for a little while.

He left and started down the hallway in the direction of the stairs. Down the east wing corridor he saw a cluster of guardsmen outside the queen's suite, including the commander and his tall lieutenant. Horace went over to them. The soldiers saluted as he approached.

“Good evening,
Belum
,” Captain Dyvim said. The leader of the Queen's Guard was an older gentleman of the
hekatatum
warrior caste. Horace found him a bit stiff but a likeable fellow nonetheless.

“How goes the watch?” Horace asked.

“All quiet. If you're here to see Her Majesty, I would suggest waiting until morning.”

“No, no. I'm just prowling around. Have you happened to see Lady Alyra recently?”

“I have not. Lieutenant Orthen?”

“No, sir,” the lieutenant said in a surprisingly soft voice. “I could send out a detachment to locate her, if my lord wishes.”

“No. That's not necessary. Have a good night, Captain.”

Dyvim bowed again and was imitated by his men. “And you, as well,
Belum
.”

With a friendly nod, Horace resumed his search. He went downstairs and reached the villa's atrium without seeing anyone except a pair of guards walking patrol. He almost ran into a young woman in a short dress hurrying in the front entrance. Then he saw her gold collar and recognized her as one of the queen's handmaidens.

“Pardon me,” he said.

She kept her eyes on the floor as she moved out of his way. “Please forgive me, Great Lord.” Her words were pitched almost too low to hear.

“It was my fault. I'm trying to find someone. You know Alyra, right? She's not in her room.”

“She is in the gardens,” the woman said, almost whispering. She looked upset. “Down by the meditation pool.”

“
Kanadu.
Have a good evening.”

As he continued out the door, Horace looked back over his shoulder. The handmaiden was climbing the stairs. Her head was bent down, her shoulders shaking, as if she were crying.
I hope it's not something I said. Poor girl.

Outside, the night was cool with a fresh breeze. The drooping trees surrounding the villa's estate swayed to the rhythm of the wind. The gardens spread out on all sides of the main house, divided by stone paths and leafy hedges, broken by the rooftops of small pavilions like wooden islands in the greenery. It was quiet, except for the buzzing of locusts and the occasional birdcall.

Horace made his way through the winding paths. A few minutes later, he found Alyra standing beside a scenic pond. He held back for a moment to watch her, standing in the pale moonlight. She bent down to smell the petals of a broad, white bloom, and he wished time would freeze in that instant. She was the purest thing in his life.
She's a spy. Dealing in duplicity, and yet she's never false to herself. Why can't I be that way?

But he was torn between two worlds and two desires. He shifted his feet, the leather of his sandals scraping across the stone underfoot, and she turned. She kept her hands at her sides as she spotted him. Her eyes were hidden in deep shadows. “How long have you been there?”

All my life?

“I needed to find you.” He spoke in Arnossi.

She stepped forward, flower petals brushing against her legs. “Here I am.”

“I was hoping you'd be back soon. I have something for you.”

Horace reached into his sash and pulled out a small object. She took it in her hand. The carving was done in a light wood, polished to an amber sheen. “A sea turtle?” she asked.

“It's from Thym. You told me you and your family lived there when you were young.”

She held the carving in both hands, examining the detail. “That was thoughtful of you.”

“Things haven't been the same since you left. The job is…well, it's a lot more work than I anticipated.”

“It's an important position. You've come a long way since I first met you.”

“I'm still the same man. At least, I hope I am.”

“It's not so easy to tell.”

“You've been gone. I've had to hold things together here without you. Without Mulcibar. I tell you, Alyra, I feel like a fraud most of the time. People are making all these demands of me, and I don't know what to do anymore.”