The Queen of Mages (14 page)

Viktor was stunned. How could something like
this happen? Some girl managed to kill one of the greatest knights
in the land? And how? The blood from his ears spoke of a blunt
strike to the head, but any such blow would have caved in his
skull, or broken the skin at least. Viktor had seen enough heads
crushed by maces to know that.

Edon came up behind him. “She must have
surprised him when he came in.”

The king pushed past him back into the
anteroom. He’d known Thoriss for decades. They’d fought together
against Vasland, and old Gerhard. Thoriss had taught Viktor how to
use a shield properly, as a lad. It was inconceivable that he’d
died this way. Old age, perhaps. An assassin’s knife, even, or
better yet defending his prince from such. But a girl, just a
girl…

“You are to never bring women into the
palace again,” Viktor bit out. “If you want to go whoring in the
city, fine, as long as you stay quiet about it. You wouldn’t obey
me on that count even if I did command you not to. But if you so
much as look at a woman on the palace grounds, I will have Lord
Ulin make you a eunuch, and your brother Luka will be the next
king.” His rage was cold inside, and he kept it tamped down. It had
served him well in battle in the past, turning him into an
unstoppable whirlwind of steel and death, but now all it could do
was fester.

He turned and barked at the door. “Captain
Portio!”

The guard captain poked his head in.
“Sire?”

“You sent your men to find this woman?”

Edon interrupted. “I took care of it,
father! They will find her. You needn’t be involved.”

“If you were capable at all, I wouldn’t even
have known about this,” Viktor spat coldly, and turned back to the
guard captain. “Well?”

Portio nodded. “I gave them her description
and told them to scour the palace, sire.”

The king sighed. There was no keeping this
quiet now. Guards would gossip even if you threatened to cut off
their thumbs. “You saw her yourself?”

“Ah… yes, sire. I, uh… I brought her here at
his highness’s command. And her
vala
, and the other lord and
his
valo
, too.” He grimaced, his eyes flickering nervously
between king and prince.

Red began to creep into the edges of
Viktor’s vision.
A lady. He brought a noble lady here.
He
turned to face his son. “You sit down in that chair, and if you
have moved so much as a muscle when I return, I will kill you
myself.” The rage made his voice waver, made his body tremble, but
he had to stay in control. He turned and stalked out the door,
resolutely placing one foot before the other.

In the hall, he took Portio some distance
away from the other guards. “You had better start at the beginning.
To leave out any detail would be an act of surpassing
foolishness.”

Portio gulped and licked his lips. He
glanced at the prince’s chambers and began to tell the story. The
prince had commanded him to retrieve this Lady Amira and Lord
Dardan. He took guards to their adjacent manses and retrieved them.
He brought them to the prince’s chambers, leaving them in Sir
Thoriss’s care, and later, at Thoriss’s instruction, escorted Lord
Dardan and the two
valai
to the coachyard, where he saw them
off again. Portio said that afterward he’d returned to the guard
office, only to be informed that the prince had been attacked and
that Sir Thoriss was dead.

“His highness commanded me to send my men
out searching for the lady. Terrible, that burn on his face was. I
found Lord Ulin and sent him up, and he cleaned it and bandaged it
well. The prince will be scarred, though.”

The shock had worn off and Viktor found
himself grimly accepting the details. His son was disfigured. Well,
worse had happened to better men and they’d thrived despite it. No
noble maiden would turn down a marriage into the royal house, not
if she had any sense, not even if the prince were a deformed dwarf
with mismatched eyes. Still, he knew it would always pain him to
see the scar on his son’s face, and recall this debacle.

But what seared it into his memory was that
his son had clearly tried to rape a noble lady. He vaguely
remembered this Lady Amira; she’d been with Count Tarian’s son in
the receiving line the night before. He only remembered because
after she’d knelt, she’d stared up at them for what seemed like
forever before her escort pulled her away. At the time he had
assumed she’d just been stunned by all the pomp and ceremony, but
why would Edon have her in particular brought to the palace the
next day?

The name Estaile sounded familiar. Yes, that
was it. Valmir Estaile, that clever merchant he’d granted peerage
to last year. The man had done a fine job in Vasland, orchestrating
some ruse to disrupt their lumber trade. It had been one of Keller
Skarline’s schemes, he thought.

His late spymaster weighed on his mind. They
still had no idea who’d murdered the man. Captain Portio had
claimed that Skarline had ordered him to keep his men off the east
ramparts that day, claiming he had no idea what Skarline was up to.
Viktor had had Portio arrest a few suspects, making a show of it.
They might never solve it, but they couldn’t look like they hadn’t
the first clue who was responsible.

Viktor sighed. He’d missed the last several
things Portio had said, and asked the man to repeat himself. He
thought he detected annoyance in Portio’s eyes, but the man
wouldn’t dare criticize him for it.
Wouldn’t that be a nice
change, if someone for once had the guts to tell me to go fuck
myself?
Portio finished by apologizing profusely for having
been involved in this, but of course, he said, he couldn’t have
disobeyed the prince.

“You didn’t think to dispatch a man to bring
me this news? You know my son is impulsive and reckless.
Anything
he does out of the ordinary, I must know of at
once. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, your majesty,” Portio said, inclining
his head deeply.

“And call off your men from searching. The
lady has likely fled the castle already, and may have returned
home.”

“Should I return to fetch her again, sire?”
Portio asked.

The king glared at him. “The last time she
was
fetched
to the palace, she was nearly raped. I will
decide what to do about her later.”

Viktor spun on his heel and strode back into
Edon’s chambers, closing the door himself. Neither of them was
going to enjoy this.

For once obeying his father’s command, Edon
hadn’t moved from his chair. He stared sullenly at the floor.
Viktor came to a halt before him. “Get up, boy.”

Edon looked up, anger and fear in his pale
blue eyes. After a moment, he slowly stood, coming eye to eye with
his father.

Viktor stared at his son for a moment, then
slapped him so hard that he fell to the floor. “You are the
greatest fool I have ever had the misfortune to meet. More’s the
pity that you’re my son and I can’t have your head for this, or I
would.” Fury boiled in his veins.
Imprison the boy,
he felt
like calling out.
Off with his head. He is no good son of
mine.
Edon glared up at him.

“Be glad I didn’t hit you on the burned
cheek,” Viktor went on. “Maybe then you’d remember this and become
a man worthy of a kingdom.” This was no time to go easy on him.
“You will leave for our estate at Gravensford this very day, or
mark me, you will live to regret it. You will stay there until I
send for you, and you will not leave the grounds. There will be no
ranging out to find women to fuck, and Sir Mirlind will be going
along to ensure that you do not have them brought in, either.
Perhaps some time to yourself will teach you the humility and
discipline you so desperately need.”

He turned and left the room without
hesitation, without another word. Sir Mirlind stood just outside,
bouncing from foot to foot. He had no doubt heard Viktor shouting
and seemed relieved to see his king unharmed. “Sire?”

“My son will be travelling to Gravensford
today, at my command. You are to go with him and ensure that he
gets into no trouble, especially of the female kind. Keep him
penitent, but keep him safe. Sir Ilvin can take your place while
you are gone.” He glanced one last time at the door, then put it
behind him and went off. Sir Mirlind and several other guards
followed him. “By the Caretaker, I hope this makes him more the man
he needs to be. Kings cannot be coddled.”

“Indeed, sire. I will see to the
arrangements. If you will excuse me.” Mirlind bowed and turned back
toward Edon’s chambers.

Viktor addressed Captain Portio. “See to Sir
Thoriss, and alert the Citadel that I expect a full martial funeral
for him.” The Parilian nodded and turned back as well.

Viktor’s foul mood persisted all the way
back to his study. When he got there his luncheon of ham and
potatoes was cold, his wine warm. He could have ordered
replacements, but he ate and drank anyway, wringing whatever little
pleasure he could out of the meal. And he thought.

Lady Amira. Something would have to be done,
but what? Summoning her back to the castle—to apologize on his
son’s behalf, to warn her to remain silent about this incident—was
out of the question. Viktor still wasn’t sure whether the woman had
actually killed Sir Thoriss, or if Edon had lied about that as
well.
If she didn’t kill Thoriss, who did? Edon? Why on earth
would he do that?
The only thing he knew for certain was that
the poor girl was probably terrified, wherever she was. Perhaps he
should have Lord Gessim send someone to quietly look into it. Or
perhaps he should go himself to apologize. No, he could not debase
himself so, not for an unlanded lady raised barely a year since,
not even if she had almost been violated. For a countess or a
duchess, perhaps he might…

Ah! The queen. He could send his wife. She
hardly stopped gossiping long enough to draw breath, but when the
need arose she could listen well, those big brown eyes so open and
comforting. She could listen to Amira’s story and apologize on her
son’s behalf, and most importantly convey that this was a story
that needed very badly to stay quiet. Threatening Lady Amira would
not do, but perhaps Alise could play up the importance of
protecting the royal family’s reputation, and by extension the
royal family’s ability to rule, and the stability of the
kingdom…

“We have to go get her!” Katin shouted.

“You forget your place, girl,” Dardan said
hotly. His fists were balled up and he looked about ready to
explode. Katin didn’t care. Amira was lost, Amira was gone, who
knew what the prince would do to her?
I know what the prince
would do. Men like him only have one use for women.

She ground her teeth, trying to figure out
how to make Dardan see reason. They stood facing one another in the
Tarians’ sitting room, while Countess Besiana sat on a couch
fanning herself. She’d been overcome when they’d explained what had
happened. Rose stood by, nervously patting Besiana’s shoulder and
murmuring soothing nonsense.

Liam leaned against the wall, tapping his
thumb against his lips. His hooded eyes stared off into nothing.
Katin would take support from any quarter, even from him, but he
was not likely to gainsay his master. He did not look half so
handsome now.

“I would curse the king to his face if I
thought it would bring Amira back,” she said. “I will not lose her,
not after—” She cut herself off and turned away, planting her hands
on the back of a couch to avoid beating it with her fists.

At the palace, the guards had put them into
the coach and sent it away. Dardan and the
valai
had all
been too stunned to speak, and besides, more guards still rode on
the runners, ready to overhear. The instant they’d arrived on
Willbury Street, Besiana had burst forth from her manse and
shrieked praise to the Aspect of Despair that Dardan was unharmed.
She’d ushered them all into their sitting room, even Katin, and
demanded to know what had happened.

Uneaten cheese and fruit sat on a shiny
silver platter on one of the end tables. Bertram, the Tarians’
fussy and high-strung house major, had brought it unbidden, but
none of them had the slightest appetite. The major had glowered
silently around at them when he returned to find the food
untouched.

Nobody said anything for a moment. The panic
and fear were draining away, leaving only exhaustion behind. Katin
gave in and sat down on the plush lavender couch.

She looked over at Dardan. He was staring at
his mother, and Liam was staring at him.
Do any of them have the
faintest idea what to do?

“Father must hear of this,” Dardan said at
last. “I will go myself. Edon may be heir to the crown, but this
insult will not stand.”

Besiana snorted. “Don’t be foolish. Insults
worse than this stand all the time, if given by kings and princes.”
She seemed to have gotten over her initial shock, and her eyes
narrowed shrewdly.

“Mother, he kidnapped us! He interrogated
us! And then he threw us out, keeping the lady who I had a duty to
protect! This is a stain on our house’s honor and we cannot ignore
it!”

“I do not suggest we ignore anything, my
boy. And I know you will not listen, as you have the righteous fury
of unblooded youth, but I must try anyway. Challenging Prince Edon
to a duel may seem like the only honorable path, but I assure you
that there are many other weapons in the noble arsenal.” She
sighed, and clucked in disappointment. “This is what comes of you
spending all your time in the country. Noble society carries on
with or without you, and you disregard it at your own future peril.
I will not live forever.” Katin thought she heard Liam snort, but
when she looked, he was as placid as ever.

“Then what do you propose we do?” Dardan
said.

“For a start, we ensure that this is not
kept silent.” She glanced up at Rose. “Fetch the servants.”

“What… all of them, m’lady?”

Besiana nodded. “And send someone next door
for Lady Amira’s servants as well. Bring everyone in here.”

———

Within minutes, the dozen or so servants the
Tarians kept, and the half-dozen of Amira’s, had all been gathered
in the sitting room. They lined up anxiously in two ranks by the
wall. Amira’s servants tried not to gape at the opulence of the
room. Some of them even succeeded.

“Is this everyone? Good.” Besiana turned to
face Dardan again. “Dardan, my boy, I seem to have forgotten
everything you’ve told me about what happened this morning. Please
start again at the beginning, so that I may be certain I have
everything straight.”

Katin’s jaw dropped.
She means to ensure
that every maid, cook, and stableboy between here and the palace
knows about what happened to us.
This was bending the rules
almost to the breaking point. Servants overhearing gossip by chance
was one thing, but this…
Dardan frowned at his mother. He hesitated a moment and eyed the
servants, then began to speak. He recounted their abduction by the
royal guards and his curious interrogation by Edon. Liam told much
the same story: Edon asked whether Amira was unusual, leaving Liam
baffled. Katin’s interrogation had taken somewhat longer. She said
only that Edon asked her the same questions, and that she had no
idea what he was talking about.

But she did. She knew that Edon had been
trying to ascertain whether they knew anything about the silver
light, which he had no doubt seen in Amira just as she had seen it
in him.

A
vala
was supposed to keep her
lady’s confidence, though it would have been foolish to say that to
Edon, who clearly did not care about such things. Katin had had
plenty of practice lying to men far swifter and more vain than
Prince Edon, so instead she’d played stupid. When Edon had asked if
Amira was strange at all, Katin said something about wanting to eat
cheesecake in bed, as if this were the height of oddity. Edon kept
prodding, unwilling to directly mention the silver light, even
going so far as to ask if Amira ever had suffered a head injury.
Katin answered by talking about her lady’s poorly styled hair. Edon
had grown frustrated and dismissed her. But Katin said none of this
in the Tarians’ sitting room, as the servants looked on in
horrified fascination. Little Sara looked as if she were about to
faint.

When the retelling ended, Besiana stood up.
“How dreadful! Well, at least you are all safe, but I wonder about
Lady Amira. Surely she would come to no harm at the hands of our
noble prince.” Then she turned to look at the servants lined up
against the wall, as if they had appeared out of thin air. “Well
what is this? Has all the work of keeping this house been finished
forever and ever?”

The Tarians’ servants nearly ran from the
room. Amira’s servants lingered a moment, until Katin dismissed
them. “I’ll be back soon,” she murmured to Sara, and gave the girl
a reassuring pat on the arm.

When the servants were all gone, Dardan
rounded on his mother. “You know that they will spread the manner
of how they came to learn all that, as well as the meat of it. It
will get back to the prince and he will know what you’ve done.”

“That was my intention, dear. There is
something you may not understand about the royal family.” She
patted the seat beside her, and Dardan sat. “The king does not like
his eldest son. He thinks the boy is a brute idiot. He is mostly
right, except that Edon is more clever and cunning than he lets on.
He is impulsive and does stupid things with alarming frequency, but
when he sets his mind to a goal, he rarely fails to achieve it, one
way or another.

“And not only Edon will hear of this little
gambit of mine. The king will, as well, and he will know that we
consider the insult to Lady Amira to be just as severe as the
insult to us.”

“Do we?” Dardan asked. “I mean, I do, but is
that the role we wish to play in this?”

Besiana hesitated a moment and eyed Katin.
“I believe Lady Amira would appreciate our support, and think all
the more favorably of us. Would she not, Miss Berisha?”

Katin nodded. “I believe anyone would,
m’lady.” She had to work to keep her expression neutral. How could
the countess think about impressing Amira at a time like this?

Besiana clapped her hands together. “There
is much to do. You ought to return home, dear, and rest. There is
nothing else for you to do but wait. We will let you know if we
hear anything about your lady.”

Katin curtseyed to the countess and turned
to leave. Liam came up beside her. “If I may escort you home,
miss,” he said calmly.

She could not think of an excuse to refuse
him, and so nodded silently. She took his arm and he guided her out
of the manse, down the front steps, into the afternoon sunlight.
“You must be distraught,” Liam said after a few moments.

“My emotions are my own concern,” she said,
and winced at the harshness of her own voice.

Liam seemed not to notice, or perhaps not to
care, for he stopped and took her hand. “I know how you feel,” he
said, leaning in close, as if in confidence.

Anger bubbled up, and before she knew it she
had slapped him full across the face. “How dare you!” she cried,
and pulled her arm from his grasp. She ran the rest of the way to
Amira’s manse, and slammed the door behind her.

She went immediately up to Amira’s
bedchamber, closed and locked the door, and collapsed on the bed,
sobbing. It was about Amira, perhaps lost to her forever; it was
about Liam, trading on her grief to gain favor, as if she were
merely some prize to be won.

She felt as if it would never end, but each
tear carried away a little of the sadness. Before long she had
cried herself out, and in defiance of a
vala
’s proper place,
she kicked off her shoes, crawled under the blankets of her lady’s
bed, and closed her eyes.

———

She woke in darkness, her mind and mouth
full of cotton. She crawled out from under the covers and poured
herself a glass of water from the pitcher that was always kept
ready. She drank twice, visited the privy, and changed into a clean
shift and dress before reality settled on her. She didn’t want to
think about Liam; instead she made herself focus on what she could
do about Amira.

The worst she considered first of all. If
Amira were dead, her manse and servants would likely fall to
Valmir’s nearest living relatives, whoever they were. She’d never
heard him speak of any kin, but no doubt they existed. Garovans
were fastidious about bloodlines, and a relation would be found to
inherit the property. If that happened, well, Katin would be happy
to serve whoever it was, in whatever capacity. A lifetime working
in a Callaston manse was better than most alternatives.
If
they’d let her stay on. The prospect of being turned out terrified
her.

If Amira were still alive and still in the
palace, though… had she fought Edon with her ember? What could she
really do with it? Burn him, perhaps, but then what? Amira was not
a stupid girl, but her intellect had always been applied more
toward frivolous pursuits and charming conversation than toward
anything one might refer to as cunning or strategy.

By now it had been half a day since she’d
last seen Amira. As much as it pained Katin to sit on her hands,
there was nothing else she could do.

At least she could avoid being completely
idle; a manse such as Amira’s never lacked for chores. She needed
something to distract her, at least until Countess Besiana returned
with some news.

It was still well before midnight. The other
servants stopped what they were doing when Katin came into the
scullery. She’d tied her hair back with a kerchief and rolled up
her sleeves. “Our lady will return to us, I am certain,” she
announced, her thumping heart belying her outward confidence. “You
all heard what the countess said. The way to protect ourselves is
to ensure that the word spreads. Your friends, your family,
everyone must hear of this.” The others all nodded slowly. Sara
looked frightened as she always did, but Katin thought she saw a
hint of determination in her eyes. Or maybe she was just seeing
what she wanted to see.

She picked up a washcloth and began to
scrub.