The Last Whisper of the Gods (39 page)

“Stubbornness at last! I wondered if there was a wolf somewhere under your sheep’s cloak. I applaud that you won’t make this too easy. And for your courage, I’ll let you make the choice: a finger or a toe? At least ta start with. We’ll whittle them away with each lie or denial. After all, you got fifteen of ’em. Throw in what’s between your legs, and that makes sixteen chances for you ta give up your secret before I get really creative! Gods, I love this trade!”

“Prelate Ferguson awaits your pleasure in your private audience chamber.” Toranim’s voice was a monotone and his expression blank, but Azarak could tell the chancellor was displeased with the high cleric’s presumption. It was one thing to
request
and audience, but the prelate had, of late, gotten into the habit of
demanding
them.

“I’m going to have to do something about this,” grumbled the king, dressing quickly. The assumption was that a midnight audience was too important to be delayed but, with Ferguson, one never knew. Azarak glanced at Myselene, who had awakened at Toranim’s discreet knock and was now looking at him through half-lidded eyes with a quizzical expression. “It’s nothing. Go back to sleep. Matters of state sometimes don’t wait until morning.”

She made a few sleepy noises before pulling the covers over her head.

“Did he say anything?” asked Azarak as they were on their way.

“No, Your Majesty, but his expression is grave. I think this time it may be more than a power game.”

“For his sake, I hope so. There was a time when I had to tread carefully with Ferguson, but his era has passed. If the gods have departed, as
everyone
now believes, the foundation of his power is gone. If he presses too hard, he’ll learn I can press back.”

“Men like Ferguson don’t ascend to the highest pinnacle of the clergy without having a strong secular base. He has highly placed friends and allies all around the continent. If you feel he’s taking liberties, make your displeasure clear but don’t antagonize him. Besides, at his age, how much longer can he have?”

“I remember my father saying something similar fifteen years ago. ‘Son, he’s a pompous ass, but he speaks for the gods and we must have a care where he’s concerned. At eight decades, it can’t be long before they call him home to be with them.’ Yet here he is, five years shy of the century mark, with every indication being that he’s going to outlive me just as he did my father, grandfather, and great-grandfather. One wonders whether all that faithful servitude imparted some echo of immortality. I’ve never known a man to live near this long.”

“Nor I, Your Majesty. And the few who came close lost their wits and acted like little children, needing to be wiped and cared for. Ferguson is sound of body and spry of mind.”

Moments later, the king entered his private audience chamber, shutting the door firmly behind him. Ferguson was already seated. As always, he was impeccably dressed and groomed, but his expression was troubled. Toranim had been right. This wasn’t a social call or a game. Something was afoot.

Ferguson didn’t procrastinate. Before Azarak was seated, he spoke. “The Lady Alicia has vanished. We’re almost certain she left of her own volition, although the means of her departure remains murky. It may be that she escaped through one of several secret routes, although how she might have learned of them isn’t understood.”

For a long instant, Azarak could only gape stupidly. Absorbing such unexpected news at this hour of the night wasn’t easy even for a nimble mind. But there was no missing the implication. So many of their hopes and plans were connected with having a wizard champion of Vantok. If Sorial was to be that man, Alicia was the key. To lose that key at such a critical juncture...

“Could she have planned this with Sorial before his departure?”

“No.” Ferguson shook his head emphatically. “She’s been monitored. While he was in Vantok, her actions were scrutinized and her words transcribed. I
personally
reviewed the daily reports. Sorial and Alicia met only once during her time in the temple, and nothing was hinted at about an escape or a clandestine rendezvous. Only when he was safely embarked upon his journey was she permitted a degree of freedom - too much, apparently. But I’m convinced Sorial wasn’t involved in any conspiracy to spirit her away.”

“You understand my concern?”

“I do, Your Majesty. It’s reasonable. But even if Sorial had planned something, he’s being watched by four men who have strict orders to bind him if he attempts escape. Sorial is an imposing man, but not the match of four seasoned veterans.”

“Tell me what happened with Alicia.”

“Her absence was first noticed this morning when a priest brought a meal tray to her room and found it unoccupied. This didn’t create concern; she often rises early and goes for walks in the courtyard. Confinement for any length of time, even in a chamber as pleasantly adorned as hers, is anathema to her. However, when she didn’t appear for her noon meal and couldn’t be found after a cursory search of the common areas and grounds where she’s allowed to venture, the matter was brought to my attention. I ordered a complete sweep of the temple - room by room and inch by inch - and questioned the guards who were on duty last night. No one saw or heard anything unusual. She was known to be in her room an hour before midnight and hasn’t been seen since.”

“You knew about this nearly twelve hours ago and are just now bringing it to my attention? Didn’t it occur to you that, even though the Lady Alicia was in residence at the temple, her custody is a secular matter under my jurisdiction?”

“We completed the search of the temple grounds one hour ago. Once we were able to confirm she wasn’t on the premises, I elected to bring the matter to your attention personally.”

Azarak was galled by Ferguson’s choice of the word “elected,” but let it go. This was typical of how the man operated; he was only here because he could no longer justify keeping the situation secret. But having an argument with the prelate about jurisdiction and mutual cooperation would be counterproductive at this time. Considering how critical Alicia was in guaranteeing Sorial’s allegiance, securing her safe return was the immediate concern.

“You said she was being watched? How did she slip past her watchers.”

“We relaxed our vigilance once Sorial left. During the day, there are eyes on her at all times but, once she’s retired, we only perform occasional walk-bys outside her room, not wishing to intrude on her sleep. There was no way to suspect she had knowledge of an escape route, the locations of which are known only to a select few. We were always more concerned about someone stealing in to do her harm than her slipping out.”

“You’re certain she left of her own accord?”

“Reasonably so. There’s nothing to indicate she was abducted or went under duress. We believe she had at least two accomplices, neither of whom we’ve been able to locate for questioning.”

“Who?”

“Vagrum, the mercenary who served as her protector for most of her life, and Rexall, a disreputable rogue who’s Sorial’s friend and has been an occasional visitor. It’s safe to assume this was an orchestrated escape, but one not plotted until after Sorial’s departure. There’s one other person of note we haven’t been able to contact today and, although there’s nothing concrete to connect her to this, I’m not a great believer in coincidence. Sorial’s mother, Kara, wasn’t at her farmhouse, a place she rarely leaves. And Duke Carannan reported four horses stolen, which  lends credence to a supposition of her joining them.”

“You think their plot is to catch Sorial on the road? If they’re mounted and he’s on foot...”

“I doubt it.” Ferguson’s calm was maddening. “They’d be fools to think they had a chance of finding Sorial in the wide-open countryside. Warburm won’t use roads. Kara and Vagrum would know this. It’s more likely they intend to outpace him in a race to the portal and await him there.”

“And that doesn’t concern you?” demanded Azarak.

“Not especially. We need to retrieve the Lady Alicia so when her betrothed returns he isn’t confronted by an empty nest. That would be... unfortunate. But we needn’t be concerned about her turning him from his goal. If Kara is indeed their guide, they’re going in the wrong direction. The portal she knows about is in the far north. Sorial and Warburm are in The Forbidden Lands.”

“Did you plan for this contingency?”

“Truthfully, no. I didn’t send Sorial south to confound pursuit because I never expected there to be any. Kara’s loyalty is beyond reproach, or so I thought. She’s been my vassal for forty years. But I don’t trust that portal. The way it incinerated Sorial’s older brother has mystified me for decades. I wouldn’t risk our last, best hope at an unreliable site.”

“How far north?” Azarak felt scant comfort knowing that Sorial and Alicia were likely traveling in opposite directions. There were dangers aplenty in the North, where well-armed bands of thieves were becoming bolder and more numerous. Several protected merchant caravans had been set upon less than a hundred miles north of Vantok, their mercenary guards slaughtered, their women raped or taken captive, and their goods plundered.

“It lies beyond The Broken Crags, in the ruins of Ibitsal, one of the ancient northern cities, about two miles off of the Obis-Syre trade road. On horseback, it could take up to five weeks to make the journey, depending on how hard they press the animals and what weather conditions they encounter.”

“Then we need to catch them while they’re still in the South. I can’t justify sending troops into other jurisdictions, especially not the one ruled by my future father-in-law.” That would be an unmitigated disaster. Not only would it kill his marriage to Myselene, but it would risk war with the most belligerent of cities.

“I would suggest reining in your militia. There’s nothing to be gained by sending them in force. By all means have them search the city in the unlikely event that Alicia has gone to ground here, but let the priesthood locate, track, and eventually apprehend her. We aren’t bound by local laws. We can move freely from territory to territory without being questioned. My fellow prelates across the continent will support me in this.”

Reluctantly, Azarak conceded the wisdom of this approach. It would have been different if they had known the location of the fugitives, but his soldiers weren’t experts at search and discovery. In their clumsiness, they might alert Alicia and her companions to their presence and scare them off. Priests could move incognito, blending in with the general populace. Soldiers couldn’t; even in “normal” dress, their bearing and demeanor frequently gave them away. Still, the king couldn’t allow Ferguson to assume command of the operation. And he had other, less obvious, resources he could call upon. The prelate wasn’t the only one in Vantok with an extensive spy network that spread beyond the city borders.

“This remains a secular mission, Your Eminence.”

“Understood, Your Majesty. With me as your go-between, you shall have ultimate control and final say in all decisions. I place the priesthood at your disposal. There’s also a matter of pride at stake. The Lady Alicia was in our custody when she escaped. Rely on us to return her to her rightful place.”

Azarak nodded curtly. But when Alicia was recovered, if she was recovered, her “rightful place” would be different from its previous location.

* * *

Myselene was waiting when Azarak returned to his bedchamber. Outside, the first rays of dawn were tickling the eastern skyline. It had been a long night. Following Ferguson’s departure, the king had spent hours strategizing with his chancellor. Toranim had agreed with his assessment that, although the priests could be at the forefront of the search for Alicia, this was too important a situation to be left entirely to a dying religious order. Azarak had sufficient non-military resources peppered throughout the South that he should be able to independently locate and intercept Alicia without having to be concerned about relying on Ferguson as an intermediary.

Something about Alicia’s escape bothered him. It had been too easy, too clean. According to Ferguson, she had no longer been viewed as a likely flight risk once Sorial left the city, but Azarak saw that as an example of inexcusably poor judgment. At the very least, Alicia should have had a constant shadow or minder day
and
night. He wondered if Ferguson was beginning to show signs of senility - something that, if true, could be an unfortunate turn of events during a time of crisis. The prelate harbored too many secrets that could ill afford to be lost to a failing memory.

Azarak poured himself a glass of wine from the bedside decanter and slumped into a chair rather than returning to bed. His days started early; catching a hour’s sleep would be worse than staying awake.

Myselene sat up, the coverlet demurely wrapped around her. Alone in the large bed, she appeared tiny and vulnerable. “Is it often like this?”

“Not as often as you might think; more often than I might like.” He drained the goblet and poured another, wishing he had something stronger on hand. He could ring a bell and ask a servant to bring a bottle of spirits, but that seemed like too much effort.

“Copper for your thoughts?”

He laughed. “I’m a king. Surely my thoughts are worth more than that? At least a silver, if not a gold.”

“I’m a poor princess.”

“You have other assets.”

With a twinkle in her eye, she dropped the coverlet, bounced a couple of times so things jiggled nicely, then covered up again.

“Where’s the copper?” asked Azarak.

She ignored him. “I want you to confide in me. I’m sure you know the saying, ‘A burden shared is a burden halved.’ You’ve borne too many burdens alone for too long.”

“I have Toranim.”