Well of Tears (Empath Book 3) (4 page)

Sammah glanced behind him. As always, Neyv
followed, like an obedient sheep. He didn’t dare go about the place
without her, lest he come across someone like Obrenn, who needed to
be kept under heel. He hadn’t seen Vance now for a few days, and
Sammah worried that the truths he’d spun around the king were
beginning to slip. This meeting would take it out of Neyv, but it
was essential for Sammah to keep Vance convinced that he was ill;
that his life was in danger; that Shiver had betrayed him, and
framed Sammah for his crimes.

The guardsmen stood to one side and Sammah
stepped through the door. The chambers were as he’d feared. The
long curtains which Sammah held closed to keep the room close and
dark had been flung to one side, and daylight streamed in. Vance
was out of bed, clothed, and rifling through a mound of parchments
at his desk. As soon as he saw Sammah, he spun around, standing
from his chair, which fell to the carpet with a mute thud. Sammah
made sure Neyv had made it into the room before yanking the doors
shut. He didn’t want the guards to hear anything the king might say
in contravention to the lies Sammah had already spun.

“My guards won’t let me leave my own rooms,
Sammah. What’
s happening here? I
’m fine.
The poison is gone. My people need me. Why am I being kept in here
like a convict?"

“Your highness, we discussed this. You must
still be unwell, if you can’t remember. This poison, it is slow
acting, and stays long in the body. Some days you will feel fine,
but if you exert yourself you will become feverish again, and it
will take over your body again. It’s still there, sire, and we have
to keep you rested. Eleska didn’t take my advice, worrying over
you, and we know what happened to her, may the spirits rest her
soul.”

“Don’t speak her name.” Vance sat down hard
on the carpet at the mention of his wife, choking as a sob wracked
his body. Emotionally, the king was a mess, and Sammah wasn’t
surprised considering the influences of Neyv in the past weeks. It
had been a fascinating study for Sammah as the king had descended
into madness. Neyv had been part of Sammah and Vance’s relationship
for years. Apparently, increasing the girl’s presence had made him
hugely unstable.

“Sorry, your highness, I have to say such
things for your own good. Don’t let her sacrifice for you be in
vain. We know how to fight this, and you have to cooperate with me.
Your healers can’t fix this. It’s a Sha’sekian poison, and can only
be fixed by Sha’sekian hands."

“The tincture?” Vance blinked up at Sammah
through bloodshot eyes. “Did you make more of it?"

“I did your highness, it’s here.” Sammah
reached into a pocket, taking out a slender vial filled with a thin
brown liquid. It was a mixture of puddle water and a handful of
random herbs Maertn left behind in his rooms. Sammah had no idea
whether the mixture might actually poison the king accidentally,
though that would be no devastating thing. All he cared about was
reinforcing the story he’d woven about Shiver’s plot to poison the
king and take the throne. The tincture that only Sha’sekians could
brew, was the only cure for a poison that Shiver had been sneaking
into the royal meals over the course of the meet. Shiver had worked
with the help of Maertn, using his Sha’sekian skills. Queen Eleska
and their children had died of poisoning in the past week, though
not by Maertn’s hand. Mired in grief, Vance had succumbed to the
story without much of a struggle. Seeing the solution in Sammah’s
hand, he struggled back to his feet.

“Get me some water. You—girl—now.”

Neyv obeyed immediately. The first time this
had happened, she’d asked Sammah first whether or not she should
go, and Vance had been furious. Now, both Sammah and Neyv were used
to this. The king could never remember who she was, believing she
was a handmaid or some other subservient part of his retinue. Neyv
had lived in Everfell since she was under two years old, and the
king seen her countless times as part of Sammah’s household. Neyv
was a shadow, and the longer Sammah saw this, the more he realised
that all along, Neyv had been perfect. It was a shame Quinn
couldn’t have had this girl’s personality, instead of the fiery
temper she’d inherited from her parents. Testing the integrity of
his story with Neyv out of the room, Sammah ventured to discuss the
potential encounter with Shiver.

“The preparations go well sire, although
Erran and Obrenn are somewhat prickly about raising their
banners.”

“I thought they would be. I can’t trust them,
can I? You were right Sammah, I shouldn’t have questioned you.”
Vance was putty in Sammah’s hands, believing any information the
baron supplied him. “What can we do about this? What other allies
do we have?”

“The only neutral land is Broadwater, sire,
and with Alec dead, they are near to useless to either side.”

“How is Broc doing with Regan?"

“He’s just a little boy. He’s not going to be
fit to rule in time, never mind be able to contribute men to our
cause. No one will follow him. The boy was never going to inherit,
and we are meant to be in a time of peace although Sevenspells
appear to have completely disregarded that.”

“Please, stop reminding me about these
things. I’m plagued by them in my sleep, only to be reminded of
them when my only visitor comes to call."

“I apologise, sire. Of course, we all know
that you need to be kept at rest. I’m filtering out the useless
noise from the lords, but some of this information does
unfortunately need to be passed to you.”

Snatching the vial from Sammah and holding it
tight in his fist, Vance wandered back over to the bed. His eyes
went distant. Not many men were aware of how it felt to be under
the influence of a gifted like Neyv, though Sammah knew, from his
own studies and the writings of his ancestor Sammen, exactly how
Vance would be feeling right now.

Whilst not quite as rare as the empath, Neyv
was unique enough amongst the gifted of Sha’sek. She was in effect
a glamour, adjusting the world around her to fit as she wanted it.
Sammah could control that world, like he’d controlled Quinn’s,
because Neyv’s ability could not penetrate his apathic barrier.
When someone in the same room as Neyv told a lie, others believed
it. The more convincing the lie, the more easily the glamour took
hold. Listeners wouldn’t think to question or reason with the lie;
a cloud would roll over their minds, a fog created by Neyv’s
ability, which was impossible for a mere man to overcome. This was
why no one remembered her name. When someone saw Neyv, they almost
instantly forgot her, her glamour made sure of that. Various people
had more of an inclination to remember Neyv, and the extent to
which they did, depended on their own mental fortitude. Some, like
Quinn, could even recall details about Neyv, and that was a
testament to Quinn’s own mental fortitude. Others, like Ross,
simply recalled, through seeing the girl so often, that she existed
in some form. If Quinn could resist Neyv, then she might go from
being an asset to being a challenge.

He had the throne. Shiver was a threat, but
could be controlled. If Shiver tried to use Quinn against him,
Sammah would have to kill her next.

Neyv trotted back into the room carrying a
plain wooden jug full of water. She placed it on the table and went
to move away, but within seconds Vance was bawling at the girl
again, “Put it in a glass, girl. What’s wrong with you? Are you new
here? What’s happened to my page?”

Neyv dropped the king a curtsey. “Apologies
your highness, the kitchens are a mess and I was sent up here so we
didn’t keep you waiting.”

“Yes, yes some things must be a state.
Sammah, you were talking about our preparations—what word from the
borders. Is Shiver showing any sign of attack?”

“
I don
’t think it
will come to that, not yet.” Sammah waved his hands dismissively.
“Shiver might have gathered a decent force, but I don’t believe he
has the balls to attack us directly. No, he’s already shown how
brave his is by trying to poison you. He is going to try and win
this from a distance. That’s why we have to keep you isolated, and
away from anyone that might cause you harm.”

“
You said
…” Vance
waved at Sammah, who threw the vial across the room. Vance caught
it with a desperate snatch, dropping a couple of splashes of his
special tincture into a glass of water. “Including those with
abilities, like Maertn. Tell me why I should trust you again?”

“Because sire," Sammah said with a laugh, “I
was born plain, remember? I have no ability. I come from a
reputable house, but compared to my elder brother I am nothing.
Therefore he sought to make use of me politically. Hopefully sire,
after all this time spent in your court, you can see the benefits
that has brought.”

“Yes, I…” Vance shook his head, trying to
clear his mind as Sammah’s story wedged its way in. “I still find
it hard that Shiver has gone to such lengths to try and take the
throne. I knew he was callous, but this? Forgive my rambling, I
don’
t feel well.
”

Sammah’s tale for Vance had been simple, and
repeatedly reinforced to not only the king, but those that might
encounter him. The royal guards all believed the same. Shiver was
the one to blame for the attacks. Shiver had killed Alec, and been
behind the plot to dethrone the king. Shiver had framed Sammah for
it all, using the baron’s position in court as the reason he could
get so close to the king and his family. The beauty of the story
was its simplicity: it had been easy to convince most, that this
was the new truth.

The king guzzled down the glass of water in
one go, shuddering only slightly at the bitter aftertaste. “We have
our grain stores, and what remains of the harvest to bring in from
the fields. We can preserve much, as well as the meats. We have
meagre water provisions, according to my notes, but we can dip into
the waters of the springs as a last resort.”

“Of course sire, I can review those for you.
Now sire, if I can implore you to please get some rest? You’ve
exhausted yourself. Look at you, your skin is flushed. Do you have
a headache? Are you feverish?”

Sammah shuffled over to the king, cushioning
him gently by the elbow and leading him to the bed. On hearing the
baron’s words, Vance lifted a shaking hand to his forehead.
“
I do, I do feel hot
, now that you’ve
mentioned it. Please, close the curtains. I cannot be dealing with
that bright light—
I don
’t know what
possessed me to open them. Leave me. Keep me abreast of the
preparations, but do not tire me with the small details. If Erran
and Calvin get out of line then just send them to me. I am still
the king; you, Sammah, are my vessel.”

Sammah bowed, “Anything for you, your
Highness.” Some advanced in the government remain tightlipped.
Vance rolled over, digging himself deeper into his luxurious
failings, forgetting they existed. Sammah waved Neyv out of the
room, and closed the door on the king behind him. This was the way
everyone in Sammah’s life should serve—with unquestioning
obedience.

“What King Shiver
expects is unwavering obedience.”

Quinn rolled her eyes, and Eden saw it,
failing to hide a smirk in response. They were seated together on a
horse at the head of Harn’s small caravan of soldiers and wagons.
They’d passed through Port Kahnel without incident, although they
managed to draw quite a crowd, slowing down their progress. Quinn
had been scared that they would be mobbed, but most had recognised
the soldiers’ garb in the green and gold of Sevenspells and called
out in support. The people of the port knew that war was coming,
and their lord had pledged his loyalty to Sevenspells. Harn had
declared they would ride for as long as it took to stay for the
night in the same place they’d broken camp that morning. He had
left a handful of guardsmen to hold the spot, which was tactically
easy to retain, he claimed.

Quinn hadn’t been interested in the details,
though Eden had. So had Ross, eager to know that they’d be safe
overnight in the hands of strange men. Harn had been telling the
truth, or at least Quinn knew that he
believed
they would be
safe, so she had let the soldiers get on with their chatter. With
that one quick gesture in Kahnel, Quinn picked up the faint thread
of so many nerves, and so much fear, that she hadn’t felt safe to
read anyone else until they were a long distance clear of the
harbour and its crowds.

In isolation, Quinn had quickly checked on
Eden and Ross. Eden was almost bouncing with tense anxiety and,
more worryingly, excitement. Ross was oozing calm, as he always
did. The man’s patience was infuriating. Quinn wished he could
teach her how to keep such a cool head, no matter how much seemed
to be going wrong around him. Quinn leaned back in the saddle,
closing her eyes. She hadn’t rested enough since the Sighs. Eden
was guiding their horse. She let him take her weight, and let her
mind drift away.

* * *

“How was your stay in Farn, my lord?”

Quinn opened her eyes slightly, waiting for
Eden’s answer. Harn didn’t seem like the kind of man taken with
small talk, so Quinn could only think that there were more subtle
reasons for the inquiry. Eden’s answer sounded cagey.

“It was as you might expect, given what we’ve
heard about the place. The city was a chaotic mess. I’m glad I
left.”

Quinn pressed her lips together quietly,
moistening them. The air was suddenly dry.

“I have heard some positive things about the
islands my lord, especially from Lynton over there. I hear the
ladies are quite beautiful, and their entertainment excellent. Were
you able to see any of that before you had to return?”